Get out of Dodge (OPEN)

They were standing, there, right smack dab in the middle of the popsicle stand.

She turned to him, with the moody dark eyes and siren-red mouth expected from that kind of story, and said in a sultry voice, "Let's get outta here."

"I'd like that," he replied, his handsome, stereotypically-chiseled profile as much at peace as handsome, stereotypically-chiseled profiles ever are, in that kind of story.

She grabbed her coat--he never took his off, as far as anyone could tell--and in one accord, they blew the popsicle stand, and got the hell outta Dodge.

The End

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