I opened my eyes slowly, letting them grow accustomed to the light little by little. “Gotta get up, buddy-boy,” I muttered under my breath, “so ...et movin’.’ I got out of bed slowly, but my body was not yet in synch with my brain. I stood up tentatively, looking for all the world like a newborn fawn trying to get up on its feet. My legs were not sure if they could support my body weight, and for a few seconds I felt sure that I was going to fall flat on my face. I was surprised when I didn’t. One out of thirty, not bad."Missy, who won?"She licked her lips. "Bianca, the pretty blonde always wins, right? She gets a doting husband, a handsome dolt who adores her." She looked around. "That's winning isn't it?" Anybody else - Mike? Come on, you always have an opinion." Petruchio, obviously. He tames the shrew, weds her and beds her." He extended both arms and smiled broadly. "The end. Curtain." Hard to argue about that, but let me suggest another way to look at it. When the play begins,. More

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