Stumpy and the Decision Tree         by Thorold May 

      page 6
Now the gawky kid, a mutant graduate
From the game-zone parlours of virtual death
Was really called The Electric Warrior
By his few friends on the claybound earth
Who feared and admired his acid play -
He flexed a finger at Stumpy's brow …

You think I'm a hoon with lowbrow tastes,
He rasped between sucks on the straw,
You think that I gossip on CB bands
With those brain-dead yobs of the tar;
But tell me this, and his glance grew sharp,
What sort of a deal can we cut?

The Electric Warrior

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"Stumpy and the Decision Tree" copyrighted to Thorold May 2002; all rights reserved