those mud puddles seemed to pierce right into me , as if he was reading something written on the inside of my eyeballs . if you could please help , i will have your lunch brought to you . it was supposed to be a short story and i only had a manual typewriter . not sweaty or too much axe-y . `` how the devil can an idiot be useful ? '' `` what 's going to happen to your research now ? '' and through that , i forced out , `` mike , you do n't want kids . 