Pinko finally got is neck brace off. I honestly don’t think he needed it because Sarah had stepped mostly on his face with the pointy heel of her stiletto on his neck. He told me I didn’t know the first thing about doctorism and that I should stick to baby killing because that’s what I’m good at. I let it go. Commie. Speaking of, my Captain America shield finally arrived in the mail yesterday! It’s a hard plastic, not the adamantium-vibranium alloy I had hoped for, but at least it won’t break when I throw it at things. I wore it on my back all day yesterday, and I’ve been in the backyard for hours today, throwing it against the side of the house. Cindy forced me to come inside and eat a Cheese Whiz sandwich and glass of milk before I could go back out. I was really sweaty but I wouldn’t take off my suit and tie. “Cap’ wears a uniform,” I explained to Cindy. “So must I.” Sarah’s really good at long distance accuracy. Better than me in fact, and she and Pinko put aside their difference in a bi-partisan show of patriotism while the three of us played WWII. At one point, stupid Pinko almost lost it over the fence, but since it was Sarah’s turn to retrieve, she was already there and she stage dived off one of the desert landscape boulders that borders our fence and caught it in her “mantis mandibles” as Pinko calls them. I saw the whole thing in slow motion and what I remember most was the American flag pin on her lapel shining heroically in the sun. I think I’ll make her my Bucky.