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                                 PED XING

                          by Vivian Darkbloom

   "PED XING" read the sign.

   Our automobile ground to a halt before the massive strips of
   paint stretching across the roadway, two horizontal bars
   delineating right-of-way. Tiffany sat next to me in the passenger
   seat as we watched from the right, an older man with an 11-year
   old girl cross in front of us, followed by an even older man and
   a 8-year old girl, then from the left an absurdly ridiculously
   old man accompanied by an assortment of girls ranging in ages
   from 4 to fourteen.

   As we drove on, the crossers having crossed, Tiffany's expression
   of puzzlement fermented, bubbled, and boiled over.

   "What is it child? Speak," I said, "and let your wise Auntie Viv
   answer the question that so vexingly troubles your brilliant and
   curious young mind."

   "The sign said PED XING?" she queried.

   "Yes," I replied.

   "And I saw the PEDophiles," she continued.

   "Yes," I replied.

   "But they didn't seem to be doing anything rated X. X-ing would
   obviously be short for `SEX-ing' or some other form of X-rated
   activity, but all they did was walk around a bit. Very
   disappointing. If they're going to tease you on with a road sign
   that clearly indicates you're going to see a bit of action, they
   should at least make sure someone is ready to put out first."

   "Silly girl," I chuckled. "They're waiting for X-mas."

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