ĐĎॹá>ţ˙ ‹ţ˙˙˙‰Š˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙ěĽÁ7 řżÜObjbjUU Ŕ7|7|ÜK˙˙˙˙˙˙l       4Ô""""6TÔxś–:ĐĐĐĐ÷ůůůůůů$. N˛  #  ĐĐ;2###  Đ Đ÷#÷#Č#ë  ëĐŠ כ6ŒźŔÔN" ëë H0xë # ë#ÔÔ    Ů THE THINGS IN THE WALL PARANOID MR. NEIL? The small black and white TV set flickered lazily in the corner of the room. The tall candle flame cast eerie shadows onto the scarred wooden table. The chocolate ice cream slowly melted into the pattern of the bowl. The nervous wreck anxiously bit his fingernails waiting for the next visitation. The things in the wall watched him with evil eyes... It was only a matter of time now. * * * "How can I help you Mr. Edwards?" Doctor Constantine slowly sank back behind his walnut desk as the back of his green leather chair bent backs and adapted itself to his weight. He smiled gently at the nervous figure that faced him and tried to put him at his ease. "Cigarette?" he suggested, leaning forward and offering the new customer a silver box full of the small white sticks as he twisted on the chair slightly. "No, I don't. Thank you". "Very wise. I really shouldn't myself, but..you know". Constantine sat there and studied the man who was looking about him at the many certificates and diplomas on the walls. Mr. Edwards was in his mid twenties, about five foot ten inches tall and not the sort of customer he normally got at all. Oh sure he was nervous alright, who wasn't in a situation like this? But this man was -different. He seemed surer of himself than his normal kind of "patient". Hardly the sort to need psychiatric help he would have thought. Still, it took all sorts. As long as he got paid, he couldn't really care less. "It's not what you think!" blurted out the man facing the psychiatrist. "I'm here for a..friend" he continued haltingly. Constantine stared at him. A schizophrenic perhaps? He looked up at the camera hidden in the corner of the room and made sure the red RECORD light was blinking on and off. It was. "Really? Do go on,” said the Doctor as he lit his cigarette and blew clouds of smoke into the air toward the stained ceiling. "I have a friend who I think may be...well..." "Quite". Embarrassed silence. Edwards chewed his lip as he stared back at the Doctor who was twirling his cigarette casually about his fingers. Constantine's mind was reeling. A "friend" eh? More likely another aspect of Edwards' own personality that Edwards himself couldn't admit to in the open right now. A classic schizophrenic case if ever he saw one. Lovely. He would make his fortune on this one. It would explain the more relaxed than usual atmosphere that this man emanated. He was probably hiding his more normal tendencies under this calm exterior. He looked back at Edwards and beckoned him to continue. "It all started about a month ago. We used to play games together. Board games. You know. Sounds silly I know, but we were champions in our day. We won the local "Scrabble" tournament three years in a row. We had a team. Childish? Perhaps, but we were happy. Been doing it since school. We were experts at them all. We entered competitions. Won most of them. We even..." "Is there, errr, a point to all of this?" asked Constantine. He wanted to get to the "juicy" bits of the story. "I'm sorry?" "Look, I hate to interrupt, but you're paying for the time. Perhaps you'd like to tell me what the problem with your...friend is. Hmmm?" Smoke rose from his yellowed fingers as he stubbed the cigarette out onto the dark cratered desk. He lit another. "Errr, yes. Alright. My friend has, well; he's...flipped. Right out. He's totally gone beyond all reason. I want you to help me bring him back to me. Please." Edwards looked pained as he made his request and Constantine smiled inwardly. "Certainly Mr. Edwards. No problem." No problem and a small fortune to boot. * * * The man stood wrapped in the towel, shivering. The things that lived in the wall had just left and he was tired as always when they had visited him. He went to sit on the chair by the TV, but it was smashed beyond repair. He plonked himself on the floor and began to cry. This couldn't continue. Not like this. It had to stop. The things in the wall had to be stopped. * * * INCLUDEPICTURE \d "line2.gif" MR. NEIL'S FIRST BREAKDOWN Dave looked out of the window as he heard the tiny "beep beep" of the car horn. He waved to the occupant of the small Ford Fiesta and made for the door, scooping up his tie as he did so and draping it around his neck. They were late as usual and they would have to hurry. There was a movement out of the corner of his eye and as he turned and looked at what stood there he screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed... * * * Rob' had heard the screams but he hadn't taken much notice of them at the time. It was only when he next looked at his watch and realised that he had been sat outside in the car for over five minutes since he had seen his friend in the window that he thought there might have been a problem. He got out of the car a couple of minutes later and went to the door of his friend's apartment block. He rang the bell of number five and waited. There was no reply. He knew that Dave was in, so why wasn't he answering the bloody bell? Rob' went back to the car and impatiently tooted his horn again, looking up at the window for any sign of movement. Nothing. He suddenly remembered that his friend had given him a key to the block. It had been a couple of weeks ago. Where was it now? There. Under the passenger car mat along with the crumbs and the small pieces of paper that he never could adequately explain the presence of. Amazing how dirty cars get, he thought to himself as he rushed over to the door and got the key ready. It wasn't necessary. The door opened in front of him and his friend collapsed into his arms, his skin looking deathly pale. This was the first time he learnt of the things in the wall. He didn't believe it of course, but his friend certainly did and he was considerably shocked by whatever experience he HAD been through and SOMETHING must have happened to cause the trauma that Dave was now suffering. He totally refused point-blank to be taken to hospital, despite the cuts and bruises all over his body. He refused to talk to anyone else, even his mother over the 'phone. He would only talk to Rob' and even then he would only go on about the things in the wall. The things in the wall that had tortured him. The things in the wall that had abused him. The things in the wall that were still there. Rob' didn't know what to make of it. Had his friend suffered some kind of epileptic fit? Was he having a nervous breakdown? Was he quite simply, barking mad? Whatever it was, it had happened within the space of a few minutes and Rob' had always thought Dave Neil to be one of the sanest, most down to earth people on the planet. Obviously not. He had sat with Dave for three days solid, cleansing his wounds and generally being there as a shoulder to cry on and only after a lot of persuasion and a lot of rationalisation had he been finally allowed to leave for work, leaving an unhappy Dave alone. Quite alone. A ripe target for the things in the wall. * * * INCLUDEPICTURE \d "line2.gif" MR. NEIL'S APARTMENT It smelt terrible. Over a month had passed since the first "attack" on this Mr. Neil as Mr. Edwards had explained and Doctor Constantine was regretting his initial thoughts on this matter and his hurry to take on the case. Greed had overridden caution and he actually had to work for his money here. Bugger. Mr. Edwards really did have a friend after all and the friend wouldn't leave this stinking hole of an apartment, hence this little jaunt to go and see him. Oh what fun. They had entered the room slowly so as not to startle the huddled figure cowering in the middle of the room. They had tried to clean him up and open some windows but every time one of them went near the walls, Mr. Edwards friend had screamed the place down shouting about monsters and the fact that they should stay in the middle of the room to avoid being "caught". Hysterical. Constantine had tried talking to the man but he wouldn't respond and all he could do was look about him in horror at the room as Mr. Edwards tried the initial communication. The apartment was a mess. There was excrement smeared on the once tidy walls and a stench of...sweaty terror pervaded the atmosphere. The curtains were drawn and for some reason a pile of food was heaped up in the middle of the floor beneath a pyramid of cushions. Mr. Edwards' friend had been living here like an animal for over a month it seemed due to this totally irrational fear of whatever it was he thought lived in the walls. When they finally did get Mr. Neil to talk he would only talk to Rob' Edwards so all questions had to be routed through him. All they got from the shattered mind of the man was more crap about the things in the wall and the fact that they were there now, watching them and they weren't happy. Communication was slow. This man was severely dehydrated and in urgent need of medical assistance, but he fought like an ox despite his small weight and size if they tried to move him from his position on the floor so they didn't press that too much right now. Constantine spent a lot of time wandering about the apartment in between the long pauses. On a card table was a board with a map of the world. Black plastic shapes representing the armies of some fascist super-state were threatening the borders of Siam on the "Risk" game-board and leant against the table legs were such delights as "Monopoly" (normal and deluxe editions), "Trivial Pursuit", several versions of "Scrabble", the word reference books to go with them and other assorted games. One thing struck the psychiatrist. These items were the only ones untouched. The TV was smashed, fairly recently according to Mr. Edwards and all of the other furniture had been splintered into matchwood. Why had the games been left untouched? He posed this as his next question through Rob'. "What happens when the things in the wall appear Dave?" "Terrible things. Horrid creatures. Monsters. Evil". Mr. Neil squirmed in Rob's arms as he spoke. He looked haunted as his eyes dashed around the room, looking out for danger. His teeth were gritted and his hands clenched and unclenched into fists. "Yes, but what do they do? We know they beat you and cut you, but why?" Constantine was surprised to get a reply directly without Mr. Edwards posing the question for him first. "Don't know. Just a game to them. Game." "Game? What do you mean? Go on David. Tell me about the games." He held Dave's sweaty hand as he coaxed an answer out of him. Not the answer he wanted though. "No". The man screamed an ear-piercing screech and collapsed, asleep. "Shit". Constantine stared at Edwards. "I told you it was bad. It is bad isn't it?" "Yes. I've never seen anything quite like it. Obviously a paranoid delusion of some kind, but I've never seen one so bad. His injuries must be self-inflicted. He spoke about the games. Did you hear?" "No...he said it was a game to them. The things in the wall." "No, he means the games. The board games. The ones you played together. You have noticed that everything in the room has been destroyed EXCEPT those?" the Doctor pointed to the card table that stood there, intact in every detail with its huddle of games crowding round it like ducklings. "What are you saying? That these monsters come out of the fucking wall and play games with the guy? Do me a favour!!" "No. No. I think the games are a symbol of his stress..." "Oh, oh so it's my bloody fault now is it?" "No. I think he's just had some kind of tremendous nervous breakdown and he's suffering hallucinations of a nature so real to him that he's actually injuring himself in an effort to escape from these...these monsters. The things in the wall. He must have a degree of claustrophobia..." "Fuck the analysis. What do we do? We have to get him OUT of here!!" "You're right. I'll call an ambulance or something. Is there a telephone?" "Well, there was , but his mother rang up after the first attack and I had to fob her off with some excuse. Next thing I know, he's smashing the thing against the wall. We'll have to use the call-box outside." "Right. Let's go then." The two of them left as quietly as they had some, leaving the man on the floor to whimper in his sleep. * * * INCLUDEPICTURE \d "line2.gif" AN ATTACK ON MR. NEIL They had gone. He was alone. The things in the wall were watching him and they weren't happy at all. Visitors were not allowed. Interference was not part of the game. He stood up and faced them as they oozed out of the very fabric of the brickwork itself. Initially, shapeless silvery-grey blobs of protoplasm, they soon formed into the disgusting loathsome creatures he knew so well. Their teeth glinted in the dim light cast through the gap in the curtains and their shaggy hair was matted with blood. HIS blood. They laughed at him as they surrounded him and began to beat him with their huge limbs. He stood took their taunts and their abuse for as long as he could before he collapsed onto the floor with the pain. They scooped him up and threw him from one to the other in a ring of five creatures as two others brought forward the game board. It was going to happen again. He would never be left alone. Not while the things in the wall wanted him for their amusement. They could beat the shit out of him as often as they liked, but he was the best game player in the area and they knew it. This was one thing they would never beat him at. Besides, he had a surprise in store this time. * * * "Come on, come on" said Edwards impatiently as they waited for a connection. "Which service do you require?" said the pleasant voice on the other end of the line. "I've already told you you stupid bitch, I want an ambulance and I want one now!!" "I'm surprised you waited for so long before calling me in. I'm surprised you bothered with me at all actually, I would have called an ambulance immediately." "Yeah, well. I didn't want him committed for no reason did I? This is difficult for me you know? I wanted a second opin..,yes, it's 24 Terrace Gardens, apartment number five. Hurry please". He put the receiver down and they left the cramped cold booth and looked up and down the deserted street. Horrendous screams came from up the road. "Oh SHIT!!" cried Edwards and he pelted up the road, followed by Constantine. They reached the door of the apartment block and kicked it in, no time for using a key. The screams were terrible. They seemed...inhuman. Running up the stairs, Constantine stopped to catch his breath but Edwards continued regardless and he smashed down the door of number five apartment to be greeted with... A terrible sight. When he caught him up Constantine found Edwards stood there in the doorway, transfixed by the image of a dead creature slumped on the floor. The card table had overturned and the game of "Risk" was on the floor with its coloured pieces scattered all over the blood-soaked carpet. The walls heaved insanely as it appeared that something tried desperately to escape the man with the smoking revolver who stood in the middle of the room. "Jesus Christ" breathed Constantine as he moved past Edwards into the apartment. He put his hands to the wall. It was hot, fluid. He could press his fingers into it as it bubbled under his touch. As he watched, the turbulence stopped and the flowery pattern of the wallpaper reappeared and the wall was solid once again. "It was all true?" asked a shocked Edwards. Constantine nodded. "Something living IN the wall. Bonded to it. It comes out whenever it wants and we can't get to it until it does. Some kind of dimensional creature? I don't know. I'm no sci-fi freak." "I told you. I told you but you didn't bloody believe me did you?" Mr. Neil stood there panting triumphantly over the dead monster. His clothes had been ripped in some struggle and he had been blooded again. "DID YOU?!?!?!?!?!" he screamed at the two men who proceeded to examine the huge bulk of the dead monster that oozed blood as they watched. "Sorry man, but you must admit..." "Well, I won this time as well didn't I?" "You mean, they WERE playing games with you? ACTUAL board games? That's insane!" Constantine stood and looked Neil squarely in the eyes. "I'm the best in fucking town and don't you forget it, chum". said Neil and he went out of the room and into the bathroom. "What the fuck is going on?" asked Edwards. "I don't believe this. This is crazy. I must be dreaming". "You and me both" replied Constantine. "There's more to this than meets the eye. Where'd he get the gun from?" Edwards shrugged. Sirens. The ambulance was getting close. "What do we do? Do we let them take him or what?" * * * The orderly wheeled the stretcher into the back of the ambulance as the figure on it squirmed and struggled. He was strapped down and for some reason there was a bundle of long boxes on top of Dave's legs. "Ha!! I WIN AGAIN!! TAKE THAT YOU BASTARDS!!" shouted Mr. Neil as he tried to resist the straps. "Got a right loony here haven't you?" asked the ambulance driver, taking down some details from Constantine and Edwards who stood by the side of the road, shocked and dumbfounded. "Yes, it certainly looks that way." mumbled Edwards, surreptitiously clutching the gun, which he held in his pocket. "Guy actually believes he's got monsters attacking him!!" he laughed nervously as Constantine continued for him. "As his psychiatrist, I'm only recommending a short stay in hospital for a check-over of his immediate injuries and then he can be released back into my custody." "That's for us to decide mate." "But I've signed the forms, I'm his Doctor". "We'll see about that". There was a pregnant pause. "What the hell are you talking about?" Constantine looked up as the second Ambulancemen came out with another stretcher. "Found this in the bathroom Sir. Covered over." The first orderly went over to the figure covered in the white sheet and lifted up the top to reveal the hairy face of the dead creature. "Oh dear. So you two know then?" "What?" exclaimed Edwards. He suddenly realised what the boxes had been on top of Dave's bound form. They were GAMES and they had been loaded into the ambulance. "I think I know what's going on, GET OUT OF HERE!!" shouted Constantine and he pushed Rob' away as the orderly pulled a Heckler and Koch MP5 submachine pistol with silencer from the back of the ambulance. There was a series of slight thuds and Edwards turned to see Constantine cut down by automatic gunfire. He tried to pull out the revolver in his pocket, but he too was slammed to the floor by the impact of several rounds from the other gun. Pain filled his body as he hit the pavement and he looked up in agony to see the figure of the orderly in his white uniform appear in his line of sight. "I really am sorry about this old chap. But we can't have any witnesses you know" and the orderly fired the rest of the clip into Rob's prostrate form. After making sure the two men were dead the Ambulancemen closed the back of the vehicle up and got into the driver's seat. "Let's get to the institute. They've been waiting for this one." In the back of the ambulance, Mr. Neil screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed... END Andrew John Summersgill 26/07/94  ,—  č í  ÂĘ17ĚÍëîď ˜œĺóŽ­ŽŻ°ąÇŰ ß !!˘!Ľ!:$@$¸(ź() )*)9)Q)Y)×)ŕ),, ,$,-,0,ţ-.ď.đ.'/*/e/i/ü0ţ0×2Ú2%4&4ńčŕŰŐŰŐŰŐŰÍŰÇŰŐŰÂÂŕŰŐŰşŰÂÂľÂŰŕŰŐŰÇŰŐŰÍŰÇŰÇŰÇŰÇŰŐŰŕŰŐŰŐŰÇŰčŰŕۺۺŰÇŰ j U6>*OJQJ jU 6OJQJ56OJQJ >*OJQJOJQJ5>*OJQJ56>*OJQJ56B*CJ0OJQJph˙G+,yzÂĂYZ˛łşť^_yzą˛Ô Ő N O úúúúőőőőőőőőőőőőúúőőőőőőőőőő$a$$a$ÜOţO   ‚ ƒ ˛ ł ź ˝ D F ’“  úű !IJQRbúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúőőú$a$$a$bcš›ĹĆĚď  ÁÂČÉ€”•OPIJ‡ˆbcňúúúúúőőőőúúúúőőúúúúúúúúúúúúú$a$$a$ňó<=LMMN[\†‡ŽąĆÇÚŰý ţ §!¨!##$#%#Ó#Ô#†%úúúúúúúúúúúőőőőúúúúúúúúúúúúú$a$$a$†%‡%Ź&­&˛'ł'Ä*Ĺ*ý*ţ*÷+ř+Š,Ş,Ó,Ô,s-t-ş-ť-â-ă-..Ů.Ú.//90:0úúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúú$a$:0°0ą0ë0ě0117282}2~2É2Ę2œ33ľ3ś344%4H4^4_4|4}455e6f6úúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúőőőőúúúúúú$a$$a$&4D4E4F4G4H4_4Í8Ň8ß9ä9đ9ů9 : ::‚:÷:; >>[>_>ĺ>î>č@ę@1C7CZC_CqC|C…C‹CŽD“D—D›DƒF‹F HHII’I–ImKKŁK˛K´OšOŃOÜOúőúđčđâđâđâđâđÚđÔđÚđÔđÚđÎđÔđâđÚđâđâđâđâđÔđâđÚđâđĹđˇ­Ú56CJ0OJQJ56B*CJ$OJQJph˙56>*OJQJ 5OJQJ 6OJQJ56OJQJ >*OJQJ5>*OJQJOJQJ j@U jU6f6ľ7ś7Ô7Ő748589999e9f9ź9˝9::°:ą:Ů;Ú;<<S<T<Ţ<ß<‹=Œ=úúúúúúúúőőúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúú$a$$a$Œ=ž=Ÿ=R?S?”@•@Ő@Ö@AA`BaBíBîBCCa>í>î>?? … DzQ!đĽŔ´´€r0dŃL2ƒđß˙˙THE THINGS IN THE WALLAndrew John SummersgillAndrew John Summersgillţ˙ ŕ…ŸňůOhŤ‘+'łŮ0„ˆ°źÜčř $ @ L Xdlt|äTHE THINGS IN THE WALLHE Andrew John SummersgillndrNormalJAndrew John Summersgill3drMicrosoft Word 9.0g@vÝA@¨{œLž@âýŒźŔů >ţ˙ ŐÍ՜.“—+,ůŽ0 hp˜ ¨ °¸ŔČ Đ óäOrion Detective Agency… ŃL  THE THINGS IN THE WALL Title  !"#$%&'()*+,-./0123456789:;<=>?@ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ[\]^_`ţ˙˙˙bcdefghţ˙˙˙jklmnopqrstuvwxţ˙˙˙z{|}~€ţ˙˙˙‚ƒ„…†‡ˆţ˙˙˙ý˙˙˙ý˙˙˙Œţ˙˙˙ţ˙˙˙ţ˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙Root Entry˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙ ŔF xŁ6ŒźŔŽ€Data ˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙a1Table˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙i WordDocument˙˙˙˙ŔSummaryInformation(˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙yDocumentSummaryInformation8˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙CompObj˙˙˙˙jObjectPool˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙ xŁ6ŒźŔ xŁ6ŒźŔţ˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙˙ţ˙ ˙˙˙˙ ŔFMicrosoft Word Document MSWordDocWord.Document.8ô9˛q