Gorgon Zola's Baby

Gold chain. Bronze skin. Cheese brain. Holes. Yes, Gorgon Zola rules the

beach. She strolls, she kicks some sand - the mild man winces, clears his

eyes. Despises her. She's tall and cruel and cool as sour cream. His dreams

are dry. She'll paralyze - an icepick in his spine. She'll fine him when

his wheelchair's parked on double yellow lines. He takes it because he has

to... because he's built like stale spaghetti. Zola's pointing the machete

- so he jumps!