HYPE THE HYPER
The Gingerbread Man comes forth; he is holding his
head in his hands. It would seem he can do nothing else.
The carriage behind him is wheedled now, crooked and
bent. Some raw tracks of tire stretch out 'cross the floor.
'I think I've lost my mind in Plainfield somewhere.'
While he is talking, firecrackers are popping, and -
once or twice - the enormous sounds of M80's or
whatever the big ones go as now, go off.
Might as well sit back and enjoy; relaxing is half the fun.