The guy on the bus turned around and gave Robin a smirk. She tried to hold it to her mind on why this man was doing this but she could not readily understand the consequences at hand. She only knew that he had been taunting her all the way up to Bloomasis, California and now she was getting quite perturbed by his illicit actions. She gave him the finger and he quickly turned back around. Robin was always one of those people to stand up and be brave no matter who was in her way. She wouldn't let this reject of man taunt with her mind or her inner being. She had bigger fish to fry.
       She was on her way to Bloomasis to visit her sick great-grandmother. Robin knew her great-grandmother was soon to die as everyone else did. The last time she saw her great-grandmother was on Channel 4 during the weather segment. It was picture of her and underneath the picture read "113". How could someone live that long? Robin always admired her great-grandmother because she also didn't take crap from anyone else. She was the closest thing to Robin and now she was dying. Robin looked out the window and saw the huge "Bloomasis" sign. She was only ten minutes away. Ten minutes away from the final moment with her great-grandmother. Robin was thinking of the time her great-grandmother had sex with an oxen and...
       "You sure are pretty, ma'am," said the man who blasted her thoughts away.
       "Why don't you just leave me alone?" pleaded Robin. "What the hell is your f*cking problem, sir?"
       "I just want to love you in a way that you have never been loved before. I want to make love to you like a man would another man."
       "But I'm not a man," said Robin who couldn't believe that she was rationalizing with this lunatic on the bus.
       "I'm sorry," said the eighty-three year old man, "you are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my whole entire life."
       "No I'm not and leave me alone," said Robin.
       The man turned around again and ignored her. Robin always had men come up to her and try to hit on her. It was a curse to be beautiful. It was a curse to be twenty-eight years old, one hundred and five pounds, and quite big on the top. She once got an offer to model in this new magazine called "Death Models" but she turned it down when she found out that they took pictures of women in uncompromising positions and situations.
       The bus stopped at the curb and Robin got her suitcase and marched towards the door. She couldn't move towards the door, though, because two midgets drinking milk blocked her way.
       "Get out of my way," she said to the two midgets.
       "My name is Faldar," said midget one.
       "My name is Stephanopolous," said midget two.
       "I really don't care if you're the king of France," said Robin, "I have to get off this bus."
       "Are you kidding miss?" said Faldar. "This is not a bus, this is a mental institution and you're trying to leave."
       "No I'm not!" she screamed. "Stop messing with my mind and get me off this damn bus!" She screamed again and kicked the two midgets in their heads and ran towards the exit of the bus. The bus driver grabbed her thighs and tried to subdue her.
       "What are you doing?!" she screamed.
       "You are not going anywhere!" said the bus driver.
       She inspected the bus driver closely and realized it was not the same bus driver who picked her up. This was a different bus driver. She looked around and she didn't recognize any faces on the bus. She never saw the two midgets before and the man who had been talking to her wasn't there. She wondered what was happening.
       "You have the answer," said the bus driver.
       "Wha...wha...what are you talking about?"
       "You have the answer to the sixty million dollar question and we need it now, Martha."
       "My name is not Martha!"
       "Yes it is," said the bus driver, "and you know that if you don't answer the question we'll have to keep you here and you will have to live with us forever in our warped world of human dementia."
       Everyone walked closer to Robin and all of them stared at her. She couldn't take it anymore. She unleashed from her purse, her sub-machine gun and mowed down everyone on the bus to their grizzly deaths. She kicked open the door and fired on the crowd who had been witnessing the event. She screamed and kept running and shooting and running and shooting. She lost sight her mission to see her dying great-grandmother. She didn't even know who she was at that moment. She just kept running and running and shooting. The police lined up and fired their shots into her. Robin felt something hit her womb and then her right arm and then her chest. She told herself it was just internal pain and kept firing. She realized at this point on she had no more bullets and she was just firing blanks. The screams from all around her got louder and the sirens became maddening. She looked down and saw holes in her body and saw more holes appearing as if they were covering her body. She looked around and saw her great-grandmother holding a glass of water in her right hand and chicken with molasses in her left hand.
       "Great-granny!" screamed Robin.
       "Robin," said her great-grandmother, "you've been a bad girl. I must tell you the truth before you die, though. I'm not your great-grandmother. Do you remember when I was having sex with that oxen and you caught me. Well, well...that was a female oxen."
       Robin's great-grandmother pulled up her dress and Robin realized she her great-grandmother was not wearing any underwear. What Robin saw almost drove her to the point of madness where no one returns. Before Robin could conceive of what her great-grandmother was trying to tell her, she drew her last breath and fell.
       The policemen and policewomen gathered close to her to make sure that she was dead. Robin's great-grandmother screamed and fainted her head dead upon the pavement...