My Cardboard Balcony

by Belinda Roddie "Imagine: an entire street of Bourbon." "Uh-huh." "No sidewalks. No streets. No cars. Just an endless street of Bourbon you can sail on." "So...a river, technically." "Well, yes, I guess so. Ooh! Better. A canal. Like in Venice." "I'm fairly certain that a canal in Italy like that would not be filled with whiskey." "Nah, you're right." "Probably wine instead." "The good stuff." "And then they'd have to refill it every week or so because people would be drinking it." "Ew! Really? No." "Hey. Give the Italians credit where credit is due. They love their vino." "Yeah, but imagine the germs. Everyone's mouths lingering on that river." "Still, I wouldn't put it past them." "Or, Hell, maybe people would swim in it! Oh, God! Maybe they'd get the urge and - ...

"You have sixty seconds, gentleman," Mistress Kor scowled, "to leave this room before I find the heaviest object to bludgeon you with." The three men in blue quickly obliged, scurrying away without closing the door. Quinoni, sneering with a fresh stogie in her mouth, sauntered to the entryway and chuckled as the knob clicked into place. "I need to learn some scare tactics from you, Miss Kor," she commented.