1:
Bo stepped carefully off the bottom stair. "Do you think Alison will finally figure out who her stalker is today?"
In front of her, Woody laughed. "Alison is so dumb," he said. "She wouldn't know her own stalker if he was drinking coffee with her for the past two weeks."
"He has been drinking coffee with her for the past two weeks."
"While she complains about having a stalker."
Bo smiled. The soap opera she and Woody watched was, in a word, stupid, but it never failed to be entertaining.
As she walked into the living room, she nearly collided with Woody's back. "What's wrong?" she asked. The Cowboy was staring directly ahead.
He pointed. "Look." By the sofa was a large cardboard box with one word written on its side in black marker: "DONATIONS."
"Great!" Woody threw his hands up in frustration. "Just great! A donation box!" He began to pace. "Now I have to call a staff meeting, do a roll call, calm everybody down…" As he ranted, Bo walked to the carton. Using her crook, she hooked the side and hoisted herself up.
"Not that they listen to me anyway…" He stopped and turned. "Bo?" The top of her bonnet disappeared over the side. "Bo!" Alarmed, he rushed to the box. "Bo, what are you…"
Something flew out from the top and landed behind him. Woody turned. It was a book. An older one from the looks of it. On the cover was a platinum blonde woman in legwarmers with the words "Better Off Thin!"
"They're books." Woody turned again. Bo was peering out of the top of the box, smiling as she supported herself by grasping the front with her arms. "They're all books."
Woody's cheeks burned hot. "Oh."
Bo's head vanished. In a moment the box began to tip. As it rocked, Woody's toy heart seized with panic. "Wait wait wait…"
Too late. The box landed on the ground with a dull thump, books spilling out like water. Bo walked out. Woody wiped his sleeve across his forehead and let out a ragged breath. "You really oughta be more careful."
"I'm made of porcelain, not dandelion fuzz. So," she looked at the books on the floor. "See anything you like?"
Hearing this, Woody's cheeks turned pink. A small smile began to play on his face and he looked away.
Bo gave him a light slap on the stomach. "I meant the books, you flirt!"
"I'm a flirt?"
Bo slunk gracefully to the floor. She picked up a book and held it out. "Wanna read?"
"What about 'My Beloved Family'?"
"It's Wednesday. Nothing gets resolved on Wednesday."
"All right," Woody agreed, taking the book and sitting down. "But if Chasity has her baby…" Bo picked up another book and gave him a swat.
