The Future Meats Here

Magically gracing the blue grass, the signature feature headlining Keene Land’s theatrical stage providing legendary hustler TCA, affordable money roll sponsorship power plays, before inviting the steak entree, encouraging beefcake, join Caesar’s salad bowl, making a late-night affair a rare tender endeavor.

“Since I was praying the winning numbers came through,” TCA, a fast-track seasoned resident explained, “I was not finished cooking up a scheme, when a vahra strong robust attitude returned putting everything into place.”

Looking down seeing patrons wearing Rolex and Longines watches, the contingent hinted the organized character ‘this was a zeitlos timeless show moment’ and her presence could be deemed, temporary.

“Vodka with a twist?” the bartender interrupted.

“If I did that,” TCA answered, “I would be out of the money.”

Walking away, leaving the alcohol laden cafe countertop, TCA breathed in an aroma, dispensed by the shrubbery underneath photographs, featuring pictures from Segesta, an archeology site place in Sicily, “ Choisya really shows here,” an affluent Mexican individual eating an orange retorted, eyeing the customer’s every move.

“In the same way, having out of the money status, and wrapped up in deep satin sheets warms one soul,”

“You know TCA you are the first lady ordering a steak in our carne de carnage establishment,”

“I just get myself simply in front, then scream, “I am a winner,” TCA replied, when reality hit her in the face, remembering the “Claiborne Breeders Futurity” theory, a winner Ted Noffey developed.

Taking a mental litmus test, results showed TCA reasoning, “just like a boundary of clover created from clay floral designs,” and without completing the sentence TCA passed out.

“Blackout time,” a seductive festive attendee proclaimed, within a second, “diciassette, TCA, diciassette, TCA, you were seventeen and out of the money only yesterday, remember.”

After making a big turn headed towards the hospital room Brillant Berti showed identification before proceeding into the private area.

“Berti Coolmore,” TCA shrieked, “it's your turf mile, not mine.”

“Well, I would walk it for a steak with you, TCA,” Brilliant Berti responded smiling, “what happened?”

“Standing next to a jonquil of choisya shrubbery bushes, they reminded me of how I was out of the money.”

“Program trading in the wrong place?” Brilliant Berti pulled out a notebook.

“Spinning rhetorical monologues about being a winner,” TCA quietly conversed.

A few weeks passed and warming temperatures teased a fall like setting, feeling much better TCA decided visiting a theatrical show about a rogue legend. During intermission TCA found out Beaver Bobrovsky was out of the money due to putting panthers on ice.

“Is there a market for ice panthers?” TCA asked.

“Not when your menu also has Indian Summer steaks,” the chilled source told TCA.

Taking a second, comprehending the obliteration, TCA pondered and puttered around the kitchen, “A black egg over easy then scrambled creating a casserole dish, could do the trick, I will call it the Schwarzenegger, and it will be a winner.”

Enjoying favorite fast-track treatment, a Juddmonte Spinster who always had something at stake, Thorpedo Anna found herself out of the money, following a dueling show with the Scylia multi headed Greek dog faced monster. “If I had one more second to put the nitrogen in my torpedo,” the military weapon bragged.

“Gin Gin, trust me I am a winner,” the invading warrior requested.

Smiling TCA working front line defense, accepted the order, you look like a winner, “how about a bourbon.”

Realizing the veteran server was talking in code, Thorpedo Anna agreed and ventured toward the neighboring castle, connected to the fine dining facility, “grab the key.”

Armed with the spirit and unlocking tools, Thorpedo Anna and TCA stepped into another dimension, discovering answers, “you know, once there was a nice place for me in history, when I was a turf star defending the firm ground.”

“I thought you were on the superhero fast track?” TCA tried clarifying.

“You know the B Gorden pass?” Thorpedo Anna asked, “well if I showed them credentials, they allow me to go between the dirt and the grass.”

“Impressive,” TCA noted revealing the decaying monarch mansion’s internal workings, “shall we have a toast?”

“Sure,”

After receiving an uplifting sensation from the small glass, a vision appeared, “Dr. Agne,” they both said in unison.

“You two have performed your services really well, TCA in the culinary division and superhero Thorpedo Anna,” Dr. Agne, proclaimed, “you know, I Dr. Agne once out of the money used to have champions and I wish you all the same memorable fortune.”

Upon hearing the inspirational message, TCA and Thorpedo Anna formed an alliance, committing themselves to feeding the poor and beheading evil.