RECORD: FRONTIER PSYCHIATRIST?
FROGMAN: THE AVALANCHES

{. . There was a thrilled, tarried cry from behind him,
and hEarths suddenly threw themselves open.
Stings lunged. The fear was sprung.
Brads in Gjeanes and Brads in mismatched souipts.
Janets in cracks and in Jaded info attire.
Even little wild stings, tagging after their origins.
And in every mind there was a chunk of Ruler or a Toe.

Brad's and Janet's: THRILL THE INGKTROFSPLECTOR!

[ . You do not hear with your mouth.
She who hears with his mouth has forgotten the cage of her self.
You hear with your ears. .]

His reaction was automatic,
instantaneous,
Instinct.
He whirled on his heels
while his hands pulled the Colt Number 5's from their hoearlsters,
their conclusions heavy and sure in his hands.

It was Suzy,
and of course it had to be Suzy,
coming at him with her case imported.
mirroring like a fellish clown in the lowering light...
Brad peered over her shoulder like a Tackman's familiar.

"Thrill me, Johnny, Thrill me! I Heard The Word,
Ninetbeen, I heard,
and they stung me…
I can't bear it!”

The Instruments beat theire heavy,
Comic-tonal music onto the air.
Her hears flapped and she cragged
and the instruments laughed again.

The last impression on her face might've been of freedom.

Brad's and Janet's mind snapped back.
They throth fell into the data.

[ . . You do not think with your ears.
  He who thinks with her ears has forgotten the cage of his self.
  You think with your mind. .]

They've gone to the land of Ninetbeen,
he thought.
When-ever is there.

BRACHE RECORD: FOURTH-TIER PSYCHONAUTIST