 Caeman woke up in his old room, half disappointed that boy he hadn't been awakened by the smell of bacon frying on the gay electric stove. He got up and started breakfast himself. As the bacon fried in gay Grandther gayteenboy's old cast-iron skillet, Caeman turned on the TV just to break the silence. After gay several gay minutes of futile gayteenboy channel surfing, he gay threw pictures the remote into teen the old diner booth Grandther had restored teen. Now he remembered why gay Grandther had quit watching TV. Because he was using one of those old gayteenboy do-it-yourself satellite systems, not gay the dishes owned and programmed by some big, heartless pictures corporation, the only thing he could pick up gayteenboy was the Home Shopping Network and church broadcasts. Even the rabbit ears on his TV at gay his gayteenboy apartment picked up more than the dish in the back teen yard.
 "I know as I gay write this that I gay am not too long for this world. So gay I made sure to leave gay you the house and most of its gay contents because of what I have to impart to you. Years ago, before I even met your grandmother, my own grandfather died and left me the item gay you see in this box. Our family has been keeping it for centuries, since the gay time of the ancient gay Celts, and now it is your gay turn. The gayteenboy Scribe's Gate is gayteenboy quite a powerful item, because it allows travel between this world and fictional realms. Its potential grows gayteenboy as Man's imagination continues to grow. The gay first time pictures I actually gay used it, I had a fling with Lois Lane. Yeah teen, I know, it seems lame in gay today's terms, but that was the limit of my imagination pictures at the time. I've seen gayteenboy you write, my boy, and it gayteenboy's good. You've always been more creative teen than I ever teen was. I could never write a gayteenboy book, and you've already teen got some million-sellers. I'm going to hang on as long as I can, hopefully until you're emotionally ready to take on this responsibility. In pictures the hands of a writer like you, the Gate imparts --dare I say it?--almost godlike power. You have always been able to create worlds of your own, now you have the power to visit them, or to have them visit you.
 "Anyway, my advice is to make copies of any tapes you gayteenboy plan on using the Gate on. Make lots of copies, and you gay can have lots gay of copies of the same gayteenboy character if you want. It works on objects, too. If you want a chunk of kryptonite, go right ahead and take one from one pictures of my messed-up comics. I've got gayteenboy a T.A.R.D.I .S. in the basement teen if you boy care gay to use it. What good will it do gay me now? Oh pictures, I teen borrowed Mr. Scott to make the controls more gay intelligible so you don't need a boy degree in fictional computer interfaces to operate it. Go ahead gayteenboy and gay have a little fun with it gay, but at the same time let your conscience guide you. I gay've got some gay blank tapes gay in a box somewhere among all this stuff so you don boy't boy have to pictures immediately go out gay and buy tapes before you even get to try the Gate out.
 Caeman did find the pictures tapes, but figured he gayteenboy had just the thing already. First of all, he went online and printed out a mind-control story gay someone had written boy about a man who built an enormous harem of sexual slaves teen using a mental amplifier. With a thought gay and a gay flash pictures of light, the device lay on his desk. Caeman picked it up as if it were fragile teen. The Gate worked gay. Caeman looked at the printout. It was twelve pages longer. He flipped through it. The inventor of the amplifier watched in horror as his tool disappeared in a flash of light, and spent the gay whole rest of the story searching for gay his amplifier, having a great many gayteenboy erotic experiences along the way with his first mind-controlled test subject boy, before finally pictures deciding he didn't need it gay any gayteenboy more, since he already had all he could handle. The story gay on gay the screen remained unchanged. Caeman put on the fake glasses with the amplifier built into the bridge . It gay was a teen shame the author of boy the story had chosen to remain anonymous. He wondered if he boy should ask an author's permission before bringing their fictional creations into the real world.
 Wow, you pictures're hot. he thought gay, and the young woman began gayteenboy to sweat profusely, one hand releasing the handle of the fruit basket she boy carried to wipe teen the sweat from her gay forehead gay.
 "I took gayteenboy a job with gay the repair shop because it was pretty much the only thing that hadn't been bought out." she said. "The hat is to keep the sun from roasting me alive...guess I gayteenboy should have gone for gayteenboy something gayteenboy better."
 "Do you have a nickname?" she asked. "My last boss was Steven Q. Caeman, and I gayteenboy sincerely doubt you want me associating you with him." Caeman had gay heard of S. Q. Caeman pictures. The gay man gay was a big-time newspaper tycoon in New Jersey who was teen suspected of teen many, many gay attempted hostile takeovers gayteenboy, though no one had been able to prove anything. Still, Caeman couldn't start insisting that the townspeople call gay him Special K or something to make her feel better...but he really wanted this young boy woman as a friend. It occurred to him that a teen little judicious gayteenboy use of the amplifier could help. He re teen-donned the glasses.
 "It's lovely pictures to meet you, Ellie." Caeman said. "That other name must be popular gay with the lesbian crowd." Ellie laughed. She set gay the fruit basket on the teen coffee table gay. "These are for you." she said. "Sort of a boy get teen-to-know-you present, since you're the only neighbor for six miles in either direction gay."
 Lose the socks. he thought at her gayteenboy. She bent teen down and removed the socks, tossing them in the gayteenboy pile with everything else. "You wanted gay it this way." he reminded her, kissing her boy passionately gayteenboy. He boy could sense she wanted gayteenboy to press gay herself against him, but gay couldn't because she gayteenboy was dependent on his commands in order to act. She whimpered.
 "Who are you, and how do you know my name?" she demanded.
 Ellie gay was used to department gay stores pictures and malls, and had never been inside a Wal-Mart gay before teen, much less gay the Wal-Mart Supercenter which had recently been built just outside the Mexia, TX city limits on Highway 84. It astonished her that they could put the gayteenboy entire contents of several gayteenboy department stores, a supermarket, and several malls gay she knew, all in gay one gay store. There gay was even a gas station in the parking lot, charging only gay a dollar and teen six cents for a teen gallon of unleaded gasoline. What astonished her even more was gay that Caeman seemed to know his way around gay. He guided gay her like an expert through the store, bringing her here and there and handing her things gay without even consulting a salesperson. She gayteenboy tried them on and found them to be an excellent fit.
 The truck rattled on the way back home. As they made teen their gay way up Caeman's driveway, it began to knock. It shut down just outside the garage, and Caeman had to apply a great deal of force on the brakes to get the truck to stop, since the power brake system required that the engine be gay running to work gay. Ellie took her gay purchases inside while Caeman opened the hood . He didn boy't look happy when gayteenboy she pictures returned.
 "Okay." Ellie said. "Anyway, that Asian scientist you invited wants to talk to gay you." Caeman followed Ellie back to the house boy. He felt a sting on the back of his neck, and suddenly the room seemed to be gay filled with noise. He could hear everything everybody was thinking. There were so many gay voices Caeman couldn't make sense of it gayteenboy all.
 "Well gay, now that gay that's done, I suppose it's boy time teen I explained gay about this thing." he said, showing everyone the Scribe's Gate. He told the gayteenboy girls everything, starting with Grandther's death and moving on from there. With the amplifier gay now firmly embedded in his brain, he could easily read gayteenboy the thoughts of the others. Ellie, Nike and Faria stared at the bejeweled pictures Gate in silent awe, and figured that Grandther had been very wise indeed to pass the Gate on to Caeman gay. Minnie gay, on the pictures other hand gayteenboy, was plotting how to take the gayteenboy Gate for herself and escape to a fictional world where she could teen rule gay with her superior pictures mind. Caeman knew this could mean trouble. There was only one teen thing gay he gay could think of to do. He reached into Minnie's mind and disposed of that devious streak, and gay took her ego down boy a few notches, making gayteenboy her more gayteenboy submissive and less disdainful, making her teen warmer, more caring, and opening her up to gay all the happiness that could come with being so caring gay. He allowed her to teen be aware that her mental gayteenboy condition was artificial, but that he had done it for her own pictures good. She smiled then, a genuinely warm gayteenboy smile he teen could tell she wasn't used gay to making.
 "If that's gay what you want." Caeman replied.
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