alarm clock on the floor by the bed clacked in the stillness. The tap in the kitchen cubicle dripped. Timbers, contracting in the cool of early morning, popped faintly.

"I need to marry you," the face said. "I was wrong tonight. Forgive me."

"Fred?" Miss Tapp gasped in sudden joy.

"Open the portal," Fred said.

Wrenching metal curlers from her permanently waved hair, Miss Tapp bounded to the door. She released the catch and threw herself at the figure on the landing. Fred purred, "I want to marry you. I was wrong tonight. Forgive me."

"Oh, Fred," Miss Tapp sighed. "I knew you'd come back! You just had too much to drink! I forgive you, Fred! We'll—"

"Yes. Bring your rayon crepe with tall tucking."

"What, Fred?"

"Bring your garb, your clothing. Hurry."

Miss Tapp skillfully fought a blush. "Oh, Fred! I'm sorry. I'll be dressed in a minute!"

Fred slowly stated, "I want to marry you. I was wrong tonight. Forgive me." He walked into the apartment and rapidly gathered and rolled together the dress and undergarments scattered on and about the chair. He stuffed the spike-heeled shoes into pockets of his black fur suit and lifted Miss Tapp in his arms.

"We're eloping!" Miss Tapp sighed as Fred carried her down the outside stairs. A Honeychile Bakery truck, with rear doors open, waited in the driveway. Fred tossed the roll of clothing and the slippers into the truck, and swiftly sprayed Miss Tapp.

An unearthly glow permeated the bedroom and cast the black shadows of heavy furniture against the faded papered walls. Within the glow, two dots of green flickered. The Reverend Enos Shackelford dropped on creaking knees and bowed his grizzled head.

An

A voice said, "Well done, good and faithful servant. Arise and follow me."

"Lord," said Reverend Shackelford, "I have served thee faithfully all the days of my life. Remember me when thou comest into thy 

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