Date: Tue, 20 Jun 1995 06:28:34 -0700
Title: Dead Ray-Bans

Both Sis and I were startled when the door to the conference
room opened.  Henry entered with several notebooks
piled in his arms, followed by Ron who was saying something
until he saw Yates lying on the floor.
"What the Hell...?"  Henry dropped the notebooks on the
conference table and rushed toward Yates who was lying
on the floor, face up, pale, eyes still open, drool coming from
the corner of his mouth.
"He just collapsed,"  Sis said.  "We tried to revive him but
it's too late."
I could tell Sis was trying to be .. concerned.
"Did you call .. anyone?  911 or Medical?"
"It's too late," Sis repeated with a hint of annoyance in her voice.
"God!  Yates gone?  He was complaining of some sort of...
pip, but nothing serious!  Is he really ... uhh .. dead?"  Henry
asked as he quickly surveyed the room for anything
which might lend more information to the situation.

pip n [ME pippe, fr. MD (akin to OHG pfiffiz), fr.
  (assumed) VL pipita, alter. of L pituita phlegm, pip; perh. akin
  to Gk pitys pine--more at pine] (15c) 2 a: any of various human
  ailments; esp: a slight nonspecific disorder b chiefly Brit: a
  feeling of irritation or annoyance.

Sis bent over and pried Yates' fingers from the pair of shades
he had torn from my shirt pocket during the melee.  They were
bent and one of the lenses was shattered with spots of blood on
it from his hand.
"He's dead.  He collapsed, holding his chest, gasping
for breath.  I tried to revive him but it was no use!  He-is-
dead!"
Sis added,  "I'll keep these if it's ok with you," and put the mangled
sunglasses in  her bag.  I knew they'd end up on her trophy
shelf along with the other keepsakes of dubious value she had
 acquired over the last couple years.



----------------------------------************----------------------------
Dick Ellis, Librarian
San Diego Supercomputer Center
(619)534-5171 (voice)
(619)534-5117 (fax)
dellis@sdsc.edu

        "Go Moan for Mankind..."
            J. Kerouac