"I'm not going to the beach, Sam.  Why would I go to the beach?" Toby 
asked  his Deputy in a tone that was decidedly grumpier than usual.

       "Because it'll be fun, Toby.  You are acquainted with the word 'fun', 
aren't you?"

    "I seem to remember engaging in activities that could be termed as such 
in kindergarten."

       "Well, my friend, take a nap and stop eating glue, because it's time 
to get reacquainted with the word."

       "I hate the beach, Sam."

       "How can anyone hate the beach?  It's beautiful.  There's all that 
sand and-..."

       "It looks like a big litter box."

       "The difference being that people don't urinate and defecate on 
beaches."

       Toby scoffed at that, "You've obviously never visited a New York 
beach."

       Sam wrinkled his nose in disgust and then changed the subject.  "Don't 
forget to apply sunblock generously."

       "Excuse me?"

       "You have fair skin.  You don't want to burn."

       "Who are you, my mother?"

       "Fine, don't listen.  Turn into a sundried tomato for all I care."

       "I need not worry about that happening, because I'm not going."

       "You're going."

       "I'm really not."

       "You haven't spent more than three minutes at a time outside since 
1974, Toby.  You're going."

       "And you know why that is, Sam?  It's because I hate the outdoors.  
And I especially hate the beach.  I hate the sand with its seaweed, beer cans 
and cigarettes strewn across it.  I hate the fat men who insist on squeezing 
themselves into Speedos.  I hate the children who hit me in the head with 
their stupid kites and then cry when I break it over my knee.  I hate the 
women who sit there in those big, dumb straw hats and read Danielle Steele 
novels."

       "You break children's kites?"

     "It was a one time thing and the kid was too old to be flying a Barney 
kite anyway."

       "You're a man who breaks children's kites and makes them cry.  Have 
you no heart?"

       "I didn't lose any sleep over it, if that's what you're asking."

       "When was the last time you went to the beach?"

     "Six years ago.  Andi dragged me there and then got upset when I yelled 
'shark!', causing everyone to vacate the beach in a most hysterical manner."

       "You're a terrible person, Toby."

       Toby smirked, "I hate the beach."

       "You're going and you will have fun."

       "When did you turn into Mr. Assertive?"

       "Something new I'm trying.  What do you think?"

       "I think you pull off bumbling and naive much more effectively," Toby 
grumbled, before walking away from him.

       Sam shrugged and yelled after him, "Don't forget your sunblock!"

* * * *
       
       Josh strutted down the halls of the West Wing, as Donna followed 
behind him with pad in hand.

       "Donna, did you write down potato chips? I need potato chips."

       "For the thousandth time, yes, I put potato chips on the list."

       "Good, because I need potato chips while at the beach."

       "I somehow think you'd survive without potato chips, Josh."

       "Don't even joke about that.  What's a day at the beach without potato 
chips?"

       "To a normal person, a day at the beach would be enough in its self."

      "Get the ones with ridges.  I like ridges," Josh said, as he ignored 
her comment.

       "Am I to assume we're still talking about potato chips?"

       "And get one of those big, long salami logs, too.  I like those."

       "I am not getting you a salami log, Josh."

       "Why not?"

       "Because I really don't think you need a big, macho hunk of meat to 
lug around the beach."

       "Macho hunk of meat?"

       "Yes, I do believe you are compensating for something."

       "Excuse me?" he asked, his face twisting in confusion.

       "Never mind."

       "Compensating for what?  Are you implying that-..."

       "What kind of beverages do you want?"

       "I simply like salami, Donna."

       "Okay. Fine.  Let's move on."

       "Do I get my salami log?"

       "Yes, my Lord, you do."

       "My Lord...I like that, keeping doing that."

       Donna rolled her eyes, "Anything else?"

       "I'm going to need at least one Pudding Snack Pack."

       Donna chuckled, "Okay, should I put that in your lunchbox with your 
peanut butter and jelly sandwich, carrot sticks and thermos or in the picnic 
basket with the grown-up food?"

       "Are you mocking the Snack Pack, Donna?  Never mock the Snack Pack."

       "I'm simply pointing out that you eat the same thing as kids who still 
believe in the tooth fairy do."

       "The Pudding Snack Pack is an ageless treat."

       "Whatever.  Anything else?"

       "Yoohoo.  I need Yoohoo."

       "Seriously, Josh, how old are you?"

       "Have you ever tried its chocolatey deliciousness?"

       "No, but then again I'm not nine."

     "Well, it's great.  Certainly better than those flavored waters you're 
always drinking."

       "Don't start with me about the flavored waters, Josh."

      "I mean, who drinks flavored water?  Why would you pay for water to be 
flavored?  If you want some flavor, turn on your faucet and drink some of 
that city water.  Now that's flavor."

       "It just so happens that I prefer my water not taste like it just 
finished doing a load of laundry."

       "See, now that's where we differ," Josh replied, as he grinned at her 
and entered the Oval Office.

* * * * 

       "Josh, could you possibly help me with all of this?" Donna asked in an 
irritated tone, as she struggled to remove an umbrella, two chairs, a picnic 
basket, a cooler and two towels from the trunk of the car.

       Josh took a deep breath and then turned around to face her, "I really 
am an outdoorsman now, Donna.  A couple of years ago, I wouldn't have noticed 
that faint smell of salt in the air or that gentle lapping of waves in the 
distance.  But now it's all so clear to me."

       Donna rolled her eyes at him and mumbled, "The only thing that's clear 
to me is that you're just as useless here as you are at work."

       "Did you say something?"

       "Yeah, little help here?"

       He looked over at her and smiled, "Why didn't you say anything?"

       "I just did...TWICE!"       

       Josh shrugged and proceeded to help her unload the trunk.  

      Sam's car pulled in next to theirs at the Chesapeake Beach parking lot 
a few minutes later and CJ, Toby and Sam jumped out.  

       "What happened to you guys?  You were right behind us until after the 
Beltway," Josh said.

       Toby rubbed at his forehead and was about to speak, when Sam cut him 
off, "We took the scenic route."

       Toby groaned, "No, Sam decided to use a crappy compass that he must 
have gotten out of a Cracker Jack box, instead of a map or, you know, all of 
those big signs with letters on them. Therefore, we ended up going northeast, 
not southeast, for nearly six miles before Magellan here figured it out."

      "I used that compass in Boy Scouts, Toby.  I found my way out of the 
forest with it."

       "Why were you in the forest?"

       "I got lost."

       Toby sighed, "Okay, can we all just agree right now that there are 
dogs with no sense of smell who have a better sense of direction than you 
do?" 
       
       CJ groaned, "Enough already!  If I have to listen to anymore of your 
whining, Toby, I'm going fling myself into the ocean."

       "You're like 9 feet tall, CJ, I'm thinking you'll survive," Toby 
replied.

       "Okay, then maybe I'll just drown you," she countered threateningly.

       Toby quieted after that and began to remove their items from the trunk.

       When everything was unloaded from both cars, they headed towards the 
beach.  

     Sam was leading the group and it seemed like they'd been walking for 
hours before Toby finally spoke up. "Pick a spot, Sam, any damn spot will do."

       Sam stopped, licked his index finger and held it up to the air.  

       Toby rolled his eyes. "What the hell are you doing?"

       "Checking the direction of the wind."

       "What for?"

       "We don't want to be downwind."

       "We don't?"

       "No."

       "Why not?"

       "I don't know, it just seems like a bad place to be."

       Toby muttered something beneath his breath and then allowed the things 
he was carrying to fall from his grip.  "This is it, folks.  I'm not moving."

       They shrugged and began to set up.  

     It was long, however, before CJ shrieked in disgust and pointed at 
something sticking out of the sand.  The others gathered around her to see 
what the fuss was about.

       "It's men's underwear,"  she said.

       Josh smiled, "Not mine.  I'm a boxer man."

       "Well, Joshua, I think that's more than any of us wanted to know," CJ 
replied.

       "Who would wear underwear to a beach?" Sam asked.
       
       "Apparently, someone who wouldn't miss it much," CJ responded.

       They all shrugged and turned back to setting up.  It wasn't long 
before the quiet shuffle of activity was again interrupted.

    "Hey, Donna, could you not try to poke my out eye with the umbrella?" 
Josh complained.

    "Hey, Josh, could you try to make yourself useful and help me?" Donna 
responded.

       "I am making myself useful. I'm unpacking the picnic basket."
       
      "Yes, if unpacking means removing a bag of potato chips, opening it and 
then stuffing your face."

       "Clearly, our definition of the word differs."

       Donna groaned and purposely whacked him in the head with the umbrella.

       "Ow!" he yelped and rubbed at his forehead.

       Donna smiled sweetly and said, "Oh, sorry, it was an accident."

       Josh rolled his eyes and muttered, "Real mature."

       The setting up and unpacking was soon completed and everyone prepared 
to engage in other more entertaining activities. 

       Sam turned to Toby, a large tube of sunblock in his hands. "You want 
me to do your back?"

       Toby eyes widened at him.  "Excuse me?"

       "Sunblock.  Do you want me to apply it to your back?"

       "Are you really asking me this question?"

       "It would appear that way," Sam replied, his brow furrowing in 
confusion.

       "Do I want you to slather sunblock all over my back?"

       "Yes."
       
       "I'm sorry, Sam, when did I become at all comfortable with you 
touching me?"

       "Um..."

       "Yeah."

       Sam sighed and handed the tube to CJ, "Here, you do it.  Apparently, 
I'm not worthy of touching King Stick-Up-His-Ass, ruler of UptightLand."

       CJ smiled, took the tube from Sam and told Toby to remove his T-shirt. 
He did so begrudgingly.  

       There was a silent moment of shock as the others caught sight of his 
bare back.  When that wore off a moment later, they dissolved into fits of 
laughter.

       Toby shook his head, rubbing at his beard in irritation. "Oh, grow up, 
will ya.  What, you've never seen a man with some hair on his back?

       Josh barely stifled a laugh as he replied, "Some hair, yes.  A bear 
skin rug, no."

       At that statement, they all burst out laughing again. 

       CJ finally recovered long enough to comment, "So this is where bad 
toupees go after they die."

       Toby groaned and shook his head sharply, "That's it.  I'm going home."

       He motioned to put his T-shirt back on, when they all began to 
apologize. 

     "We're sorry, Toby.  We were only kidding.  We won't say one more word 
about," CJ said.

       Toby sighed and nodded.  He had turned his back to allow CJ to apply 
the sunblock, when he heard Sam whisper, "She's gonna need a machete in order 
for that to do a bit of good."

       Toby whipped around quickly, glared at Sam and then ripped the tube 
away from CJ.  He then said tersely, "I don't think I'll be needing this 
after all."

       With that, he turned on his heel and stalked off down the beach. 

       They were all silent for a few moments before Donna said, "Don't you 
guys think you were a little hard on him?"

       They pondered that for a moment, before shaking their heads and 
replying with a resounding, "No."

       Donna shook her head at them disapprovingly.

* * * *

       Josh and Donna peeled off their clothes and headed towards the water 
in their bathing suits.  They waded in slowly, until they were yards from 
shore and the water was up to their shoulders.

       They were quiet until Josh shrieked, "Get it off me!  Get it off!"

       Donna turned to him with wide eyes, "What?"

    "I don't know.  Something touched my left big toe. Could've been a 
jellyfish, could've been a shark, hard to say."

       "A shark?"

       "They've been coming closer and closer to shore this year, Donna.  And 
I'm a nice, handsome, fresh piece of meat."

       "I can't believe you're actually boasting about being perfectly suited 
to be a shark's lunch.  I mean, that's taking arrogance to a whole new level."

       Josh was just about to respond, when he screamed once more, "There it 
is again!  I feel it on my toe!  Get it off!"

      He looked at Donna pleadingly. She shook her head, "You're not actually 
suggesting-..."

       "Look under the water and see what it is, Donna.  If it's jellyfish, 
please remove it.  If it's a shark, pray to God," he instructed through 
clenched teeth.

       Donna chuckled, "I am not doing that, Josh."

       "You're my assistant."

       "I guess I missed the part in my job description that said 'alleviate 
wussy boss's fears while at beach'."

       "Did you just call me a wuss?"

       "Wussy.  Adjective."

       "I'm not a wuss, Donna."

       "Okay."

       "I'm not...OH GOD, GET IT OFF!" he yelled, as he interrupted himself.

      Donna sighed in defeat and slowly lowered herself underwater. She 
returned a few moments later with a grin.

       "What was it?  It was a shark, right?  You saw a shark nipping at my 
toes down there, didn't you?"

       Donna laughed and held up a sopping piece of seaweed. "Here's your 
shark, Josh."

       "What is that?"

       "Seaweed."

       "It looks like spinach."

       "You don't know the difference between seaweed and spinach?"

       "I'm just saying I could have chicken served on a bed of seaweed and 
be none the wiser."

       "You're pathetic.  The fact that you are allowed to run around 
unsupervised, never mind help run a country, is simply frightening."

       "So I don't know the difference between seaweed and spinach.  What's 
the big deal?"

       "Haven't you ever seen 'Popeye'?  He ate spinach."

    "No, while you were watching cartoons, I was busy becoming a considerably 
powerful and exceedingly intelligent man."

      "And, might I add, a wuss."  Donna paused, ignoring Josh's glare in 
response, and then added, "You screamed like a girl, by the way."

       "I did no such thing."

       "You screamed like a little five year old girl who lost her balloon."

       "I voiced my concern in my normal, masculine voice."

       "You screamed like a little girl."

       "You know, that's a very sexist comment.  I expect more from you."

       "It's not sexist.  The only way it could be sexist is if it weren't so 
true."

     Josh shrugged, finding no hole in her argument, except his protest of 
not screaming like a girl, which had already failed.

* * * *
       
       Sam looked over from his spot next to Toby and watched the man reading 
peacefully.  He opened his mouth to speak and then thought better of it.  

      Lately, anything he said to Toby was answered with a curt response.  
And by 'lately' he meant since the day they'd met.

       A moment later, Sam decided to throw caution to the wind and propose 
his idea to Toby anyway.

       "Um, Toby, do you want to have a sandcastle building contest?"

       Toby slowly turned his head and stared at Sam. "I'm sorry?"

      "A sandcastle building contest.  You build a castle, I build a castle.  
CJ can help us by retrieving water and then judge, since she's not doing 
anything anyway."

       CJ overheard Sam and decided to join in the conversation. "CJ is most 
certainly doing something, Sam."

       Sam looked over at her, "You're reading a magazine."

       "And you think I'm going to wait to find out who my perfect mate is 
just so I can help you two schmucks build sandcastles?"

       Toby chuckled and muttered, "Yeah, wouldn't want to take that kind of 
risk, now would ya?"

       CJ sighed, "Fine, I'll help you."

       Sam smiled and turned back to Toby, "So, how about it?"

       "Will I engage in a childish attempt at architecture with you?"

       "Yes."

       "No."

       "Why not?" Sam whined.

       "Because I'm not six."

     "Building sandcastles is for all ages, Toby.  They have a huge contest 
in Atlantic City every year.  Of course for that, people can make anything 
out of sand.  One time, I saw this guy make the Statue of Liberty.  It took 
him six hours just to make the torch and then-..."

       "Sam," Toby interrupted softly.

       "Yeah?"

       "Shut up."

      "Okay."  Sam quieted for a few moments and then asked, "So wanna do it 
or not?"

       Toby groaned and threw his book down on the sand, "You're not going to 
shut up until I say I'll do it, are you?  You're going to go on and on and 
describe every godawful sand sculpture you've ever seen until I give in, 
aren't you?  I mean, this could go on for days."

       "Honestly, I'm not sure I have the stamina for that," Sam replied.

       Toby sighed loudly, "Fine, I will compete against you in a sandcastle 
building contest."

       Sam's eyes brightened and he practically leapt to his feet.  "Great!  
Okay, now there are a couple of rules. You can build any structure you want, 
but we strongly encourage you to build a castle."

       "Who is this 'we', Sam?  Are those the voices in your head speaking 
again?" Toby asked.

       Sam ignored him and continued, "You are not allowed to use any 
professional sand sculpting tools."

       "Thank God, because I forgot mine in my other swimsuit."

       Sam once again ignored Toby and clapped his hands together. "Okay, 
that's about it.  Let's get started!"

       Toby looked around them and then up at Sam, "Um, Sam, what are we 
supposed to use to build these things?"

       Sam smiled and picked up a bag at his feet, "That's what these are 
for."

       Toby's brow raised, as Sam removed some small, plastic children's sand 
tools.  There were little shovels, hoes and variously shaped buckets.

       "What the hell did you do?  Steal from a kid or did he gladly hand 
them over in exchange for you shutting up about sandcastles?"

       Sam grinned and shook his head. "Of course not.  These are mine."

       Toby's eyes widened.  "Yours?"

       "Yup."

       Toby laughed and said, "Now that's just disturbing."

     Sam's brow furrowed in confusion.  He decided to let it go and began to 
distribute the tools.  

       He handed CJ two big buckets. "Okay, CJ, you're in charge of 
retrieving us water promptly and filled to the top."

       "Yes, master.  If I am not prompt or I spill a bit, will I receive 
forty lashings?"

       Sam shook his head at her, "CJ, sandcastle building is serious stuff.  
If you don't think you can handle that, I kindly ask that you step aside."

       CJ had to bite her lip to keep from laughing, "Oh no, I'm serious.  I 
actually minored in sandcastle building in college.  I once carried four 
buckets of water in my hands and balanced two on my head during a pop quiz."

       "CJ," Sam said warningly.

       CJ forced herself not to smile, "Okay, I'm totally serious."

       "Thank you.  Now go get us some water please."

       Sam turned back to Toby and shook his head at him, "Can you believe 
her attitude?"

      "Yeah," Toby nodded in agreement, "Going by her, one might actually get 
the impression that we are engaging in some juvenile, simple-minded activity 
of shaping sand."

       Sam's eyes narrowed, as he tried to figure out if Toby was actually 
agreeing with him or simply ridiculing him.

* * * *
       
       "Watch, Donna."  Josh said, as they reached the shore. "David 
Hasselhoff in the opening of 'Baywatch.'"

       Donna watched as Josh ran in place in slow motion.  He moved his arms 
and legs as if he had terrible arthritis.

       Donna couldn't help but laugh.  She shook her head at him, "I don't 
approve of you mocking David Hasselhoff, Josh.  You know how I feel about 
him."

       "Don't get me wrong, I love the man.  He got to run around with 
beautiful women who had big breasts everyday and called it work.  He's my 
hero."

       Donna chuckled, "You are such a pig."

      "Come to think of it, maybe I should lobby to get the dress code 
changed in the West Wing.  I think it could only improve your job performance 
if you walked around in one of those cute little red bathing suits all day."

       "I'm sorry, I think I just offended pigs," Donna replied.

      Josh shrugged and picked up a Frisbee that he found on the sand. "Wanna 
play?"

       "Josh, that's not ours.  I'm sure some kid is looking for it."

       "Well, when and if he comes around I'll give him a little lecture on 
taking better care of his things."

       Donna reluctantly shrugged, "Okay, let's play."

      Donna walked a few yards away from Josh and then he threw the Frisbee.  
Donna missed it and it landed at her feet.

     Josh sighed, "The object of the game is to catch the Frisbee, Donna.  If 
the object were to stare at it blankly as it falls at your feet, you'd be 
really, really good."

       Donna simply glared at him and then flung it.  

       The game continued on, Donna eventually getting into a groove.  Josh 
was just about to throw the Frisbee again, when he felt a tugging on his 
bathing suit. He looked down into the eyes of a little six year old girl.

       "Can I help you?"

       "That's my Frisbee."

       "Actually, I found it lying over there on the sand."

       "That's because I dropped it when we were looking for a spot on the 
beach."

       "Well, maybe next time you'll be more careful with your things."

     By now, Donna had joined them. She whispered to him, "Just give her the 
Frisbee, Josh."

       Josh whispered back, "No, it's about the principle of the matter."

       "What principle?  You're withholding a child's Frisbee."

       "I'm teaching her a lesson."

       "You're making her cry."

       "She has to learn someday."

       "What are you gonna do next, Josh?  Tell her there's no Easter 
Bunny?!" Donna said more loudly than she intended. 

       The little girl looked up at Donna with a quivering lip and said, 
"There's no Easter Bunny?"

       Donna smiled weakly, "Oh no, I was talking about something else.  
There is most certainly an Easter Bunny."

       Josh nodded, "Yeah, and if you're good maybe he'll bring you another 
Frisbee.  Now take a hike."

       "Josh!" Donna scolded and slapped him upside the head.

       Josh rubbed at his head, but reacted quickly when the girl attempted 
to pull the Frisbee from his grip.

       "Nice try."

       "Give it to me!" the girl ordered with a stomp of her foot.

       "No!"

       "Give it to me NOW!"

       "Losers weepers, finders keepers!" Josh countered.

     Donna simply shook her head at him.  The little girl glared at him 
before stomping off down the beach.

       Josh smiled in satisfaction.  He then backed up a few feet and flung 
the Frisbee at Donna. It hit her stomach and fell to the ground.

       "Um, Donna, do we need to review the objective of the game again?"

       "I can't believe you, Josh."

       He smiled cockily, "I know, did you see how easily I handled that kid?"

       "She's six!"

       "So?"

      "Well, at least you didn't resort to any childish and immature 
arguments to make your point," Donna said sarcastically.

       "No, to my credit, I did not," Josh replied, totally missing her point.

       "Losers weepers, finders keepers?!"

       "That's a classic, Donna.  It's ageless.  Much like the Pudding Snack 
Pack."

       "You are a sad, sad man,"

      "Whose got the Frisbee?" he asked with a grin.  He paused and then 
said, "Come on, let's play."

       Donna shrugged in defeat, picked up the Frisbee and then threw it to 
Josh.  

      However, he was distracted by a beautiful eighteen year old female 
jogging down the beach in a bikini that was so small it looked as if it 
belonged in Barbie's wardrobe.  Josh was so focused on the beauty that he 
never saw the Frisbee coming and it him square in the forehead.  He stumbled 
backwards and fell flat on his back.

       Donna's initial reaction was to laugh, but she soon recovered from 
that and rushed to his side to see if he was okay.

       Josh was blinking furiously and attempting to rub at his head.  Donna 
was just about to ask him if he was okay, when the little girl from before 
appeared at their sides.  

       She bent down to pick up her Frisbee and scowled at Josh. She then 
turned around and waved at the woman that had indirectly caused Josh's 
injury.  "Thanks, sis!"

       She then looked back down at Josh and said, "That's what you get for 
stealing from children, you mean man!"

       She kicked Josh's side before walking away.

       Josh's eyes were now wide with shock and he was trying to rub at both 
his side and forehead.  

       Donna shook her head at him, "I have to agree with the kid.  You got 
what you deserved."

       Josh smiled as he sat up and then said weakly, "Did you see her 
sister?  It was totally worth it."

       Donna simply shook her head in disgust and then shoved him back down 
to the ground.

* * * *

       "CJ!" Sam yelled at the tall woman carrying two buckets of water. 
"This castle's not going to build itself!  Hurry up with that water!"

       CJ reached Sam and offered him an ire filled glare. "Yell at me one 
more time, Samuel, and I swear I'm going to sculpt your coffin out of sand."

       Sam swallowed hard, his tone now soft, "I apologize.  Thank you so 
much for the water." He peered into the buckets and then said softly, "I 
especially like how you've only filled them up a quarter of the way."

       He took the buckets from her and then dropped to his knees.  He was 
just about to start working again, when he caught a glimpse of Toby's work.  
He hadn't paid much attention to what Toby was doing until now.

       He walked over to Toby and stood over him.  

     He studied Toby's creation, his brow creasing as he did so.  A few 
moments passed before he asked, "What is it?" 

       Toby looked up at him, "It's a castle."

     Sam glanced down at the 'castle', which looked to be little more than an 
oversized anthill.  

       "It's a mound of sand."

       "Well, I'm not finished," Toby replied.

       "You have to do better than this."

       "Actually, I don't.  This is my castle and you're just going to have 
to live with it."

       "But this is any competition against mine."

       Toby stood up, brushing the sand off his knees.  "Well, why don't you 
show me this masterpiece of yours?"

       Sam lead Toby to his work of art. Toby's eyes nearly fell out of his 
head at Sam's creation.  It was a massive castle, complete with a moat.  
There were three towers and Sam had carefully decorated each with swags of 
seaweed.  Shells were strategically placed to add an ornamental flare.  

       "How the hell did you do this?" Toby asked incredulously.
       
       "It wasn't hard.  It just took a little patience and some creativity." 
Sam paused and bent down, "Look, there's more."

       Sam pointed to one of the little openings which served as a window and 
told Toby to peer in.  

       Toby did so and asked, "Is that a grand piano in there?"

       Sam smiled proudly, "It sure is.  And the floor is actually a mosaic 
of the Nativity scene made out of shells."

       Toby looked at the floor in amazement, "Is that baby Jesus made out of 
a starfish?"

       "Yes, that one did prove difficult."

       Toby shook his head, "Well, I'm not a Christian, but it looks pretty 
damn good."

       Toby stood up and glanced over at his own creation. "I think you win."

       Sam didn't hear him, however, because he was too busy yelling at CJ.  
"Come on, CJ!  That water's not going to carry itself!"

       CJ finally reached them and stood in front of Sam with her jaw 
tightened.  She then put one bucket down and used her free hand to guide the 
other bucket so that its contents emptied on Sam's head.  

       "That is for ordering me around, you castle-building-Hitler freak!"

       Sam stood dripping in front of her, his mouth hanging open in 
disbelief.

      CJ then picked up the other bucket and proceeded to pour it over one of 
the towers.  Sam looked on in horror and even Toby seemed to be taken aback.  

       CJ turned back to Sam, "And that is for being a castle building freak 
in the first place!"

       CJ and Toby watched as Sam dropped to his knees and looked sorrowfully 
at his destroyed tower. 

       "Oh no, not Rapunzel!"  Sam said in a tone that bordered on frantic, 
as he began to sift through the remains of the tower.  

       "There was a Rapunzel?" Toby whispered to CJ.

       "Apparently."

      Sam finally retrieved a soaked and tattered 'Rapunzel', which consisted 
of a paper Dixie Cup as her dress, a stick as her body and a piece of flowing 
seaweed as her hair.  And, as if that weren't already disturbing enough, Toby 
and CJ could tell that the 'hair' had been braided.

       Sam stood up, shaking his head and cradling 'Rapunzel' in the palm of 
his hand.

       CJ was attacked by a sudden pang of guilt as she watched Sam. "Oh, I'm 
sorry, Sam.  I overreacted.  I'm sorry I destroyed your tower and killed 
Rapunzel."

       Sam shrugged and said with a small smile, "That's okay.  I used your 
magazine for the floor of that tower.  It too is now ruined."
       
       CJ opened her mouth to yell at him, but then thought better of it and 
snapped it shut.

* * * * 

       Donna helped Josh get back to where they'd set up.  Everyone looked at 
him in confusion, noticing the red spot on his forehead and how he was 
favoring his side.

       "What happened to you?" CJ asked. 

       Donna spoke before Josh could, "He got beaten up by a little girl."

       "I did not.  I was distracted by her beautiful sister and the Frisbee 
hit me in the head."

       "And then the little girl kicked him."

       "Well, I was on the ground.  How could I have defended myself?"

       "Josh stole her Frisbee."

       "I found her Frisbee."

       "So the girl used her sister to get it back.  A six year old outwitted 
Josh by using his biggest weakness:  the fact that he's a heterosexual male 
with eyesight."

       Toby, Sam and CJ laughed, as Josh rewarded Donna with a glare.  

       Josh spoke through gritted teeth, "I was not outwitted, Donna."

       "She played you like a fiddle."

       "Can we just go home now?" Josh asked in irritation.

       "I'm all for that," Sam said sadly.

       "Me too," CJ agreed flatly.

       They all began to pack up when Toby said, "Well, I for one, have a 
newfound enjoyment of the beach.  I mean, Josh got his ass kicked by a little 
girl, Sam did CPR on a sad variation of Rapunzel and CJ was my water slave 
woman...I love the beach."

       They all groaned at him, as they continued to pack up their belongings.



THE END

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