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CC
September 24th, 2005, 02:24 PM
I hope I'm not violating any rules here. But this is something I and three others used to do (while in captivity) when we weren't playing games of Spades with running scores into the thousands. Now I think this may be a bit different because all four of us were in pretty much the same boat.
The way this works is someone, (in this case me) starts a story line that involves their character as well as any personal information you may wish to include.
One rule is that if someone gets picked to pass along the story that they keep it done to what would be about equal to one page in a novel.
Since we are not in confinement we must have some order of who to pick. I think it would work well if we each pick someone who has a story in here. In other words, names off the list when you click onto the Writing Club. Someone can be picked more than once, but the general idea is to pass the story along. If someone is picked and they do not respond in 48 hours anyone who wishes can grab the story and then pass it around again.
If we can get it to take off then it truely will become "Everybody's Story.....here we go.]

Everybody's Story

I was duct-taped to his wheelchair, bound to it quite securely. He was wearing skateboard safety equipment. Knee pads, elbow pads heavy gloves and one of those goofy colored helmets the skateboarders wore them, those that did wear them.
I had just dropped off the half-pipe. The gravitaional pull was so strong and so sudden that it was like dropping off a three foot tall table onto a wood floor, only without the sudden crash one might expect if someone dropped in such a manner. Then almost just as quickly I was going up the other side of the pipe at such a quickened pace that I was virtually weightless. I felt my stomach churn as I watched the top of the half-pipe race toward me. I could hear some people in the crowd gasp thinking I was about to shoot myself over the top of the lip. No Way!
I did that only one time and had shot straight up into the air. The landing was not pretty. In fact I broke my collar bone by landing on a skater's board. The city officials had tried to ban me from the skateboard park claiming I was too much of a risk. I had set up a meeting with the city council to argue that I was at no more of a risk than the kids on the boards. Three days before the scheduled
meeting the mayors son was injured with two broken ribs because he landed too close to the lip of the half-pipe. I never even went to the meeting. I just started doing it again as soon as my collar bone had healed.
Just before I would have shot over the lip I grabbed the push-rim of my right wheel and locked it up. My chair spun around two and one-half turns. I waited for the rush I always got from the crowds yips, whistles and applause. I did a few more spins and then did a few jumps over the moguls then ramped up speed to get out of the bowl.
Not bad, I thought to myself. Not bad for a 52 year old. I began the tedious work of cutting the tape off of me and pulling it off the chair. There was still some tape dangling in back of the chair that I couldn't reach.
"Can I get that for you?" A pleasent voice. A woman's voice. I turned around to see a nice looking lady with curled hair down past her shoulders.
"Hi" she said cheerfully as she extended her hand. "My friends call me Happy Lady."
"Happy Lady" seen the puzzled look on my face.
"I know it's not everyday you meet someone with a name like mine." She smiled as she pulled the last couple of strips of tape off the back of my chair.
"Well, most folks call me 'CC' so it's nice to meet you. Now it was my turn to see a puzzled look on Happy Lady's face.
"Nevermind", I said anticipating her question. We shook hands then I balled the tape into a roll and pitched it in the trash can.
"Nice to meet you there Happy Lady, and thanks for the help." I told her as she smiled and waved a quick goodbye as I headed for my van.
(to be continued)
author's note: I picked HL cause I know she can't wait for her turn!......:O)

sylouette
September 25th, 2005, 09:33 AM
author's note: I picked HL cause I know she can't wait for her turn!......:O)

Oh HL, me next! me next! PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE!!!! :boogie:

CC
September 26th, 2005, 05:14 AM
hmm......err....if she doesn't respond in the time alloted for it then anyone can pick up the story. Happy Lady had until abouy 6 pm by the ODN clock.......happy lady, where are you?...........:O)

sylouette
September 26th, 2005, 08:49 AM
hmm......err....if she doesn't respond in the time alloted for it then anyone can pick up the story. Happy Lady had until abouy 6 pm by the ODN clock.......happy lady, where are you?...........:O)


I'll wait to see if HL want to input first.....I'm eager to see how she continues this story and I think I'd be able to continue off of hers a little easier. COME ON HL...HURRRRRRRYYYY!!!

HappyLady
September 26th, 2005, 10:34 AM
"Damn, that man is hot! He's on fire he's so hot. I envy his strength. He blows those little punks away. I wonder if he can get an erection..." I thought, as I sat on the park bench watching him. I was also watching my two girls chase each other and wrestle in the grass. I knew it would be just a matter of seconds before one of them was in tears for playing too rough, so I called them over to watch the man in the wheelchair turn his tricks. My oldest asked, "What's wrong with him?" I replied, "Absolutely nothing so far as I can tell." She smirked and folded her arms. I smirked that same 8 year-old smirk back at her.

She watched intently as he flipped himself up. But I stopped watching him, because I was watching her. She looked surprised and said, "Wow Mom, you're right! He doesn't act like people in wheelchairs act." I replied, "That's because he doesn't feel like people who are in wheelchairs usually feel." She agreed, "Yeah, he doesn't seem sad to be there." I said, "I'm sure he has his sad moments. But we all have sad moments."

Memory jolted me back to a sad moment. Not my own memory, but the memory of my 8 year-old and how sad she must have felt the morning before when her disorganization and cluttered mind caused her to forget to do her homework. I remembered how she stood at the door in tears with her head leaning against it, knowing she was heading for the bus empty handed, knowing she was heading into the classroom to face her teacher with her assignments incomplete, knowing she would be missing recess...the best part of the day...to finish the homework she didn't do. She faced so many days this way. Not just with unfinished homework, but with chaos, unable to get things done, unable to get control of herself, sit still, or get focused.

Memory jolted me back even further to her last therapy appointment when her therapist told me that by refusing to put her on medication I was writing her a one-way ticket to failure. Though she used therapist words and not the truth, I knew that is what she meant. I rolled my eyes thinking, "You just don't understand..." but I didn't speak. I just shook my head. But I understood. I understood that the medication would put out that fire in her, a fire kind of like that one burning in that man, and that it would be the worst thing that could happen to her.

The present returned to my field of vision. But now I was watching the man who had finished his show. He was unraveling himself from all the tape that held him in the chair. I looked again at my daughter and welled up with tears because I realized they were not so different...and that was a very good thing. The man had endured his challenges and excelled. It gave me hope that my daughter would know such excellence, too.

I saw the man struggling with the tape so I leapt to go help him. "Come with me, Annya, maybe you can meet him!" Annya ran by my side holding my other daughter's hand as I quickly jogged up to the man to see if he needed some help with some tape that was sticking to his wheelchair. I wanted to thank him for being strong, for finding a way to use the very thing that holds him back to propel himself forward and upward. I wanted to throw my arms around him and give him the biggest hug, cry on his shoulder, and thank him for being alive!

We introduced ourselves and touched hands. Tears were in my eyes, but I don't think he knew. All the things I wanted to say just wouldn't come out of my mouth without sobbing. So, I said as much in the touch of our hands with all the courage I could gather, and then I walked away. As I headed back to the park bench, tears streamed down my face and Annya asked why I was crying. I said, "Because I love you. You're an incredible little girl." I picked her up and gave her the big hug I wanted to give that man in the wheelchair who called himself "CC". And I gave her the hug I didn't give her yesterday morning when she needed it when she was walking out the door to face the world feeling a little weaker because of her own challenges. I gave her the hug I needed, too, not as much as she did, but needed all the same.

I put her down and as we walked back to the park bench, I noticed a woman sitting where I had been. She seemed like she was impatiently waiting for something. A group of men walked past me wearing strange name tags, "Pervirtuous", "Mr. Hyde", and "Xanadu Moo" were only three of them. I felt like I was in a dream. I wanted to call out to one of them and then the other, but I couldn't help but feel that the woman on the bench needed to say something or she'd go insane. I walked over to the impatient woman who was holding a Sylvia Browne book in her hand. I smiled and said, "You can have my seat now. Just let me get my stuff. And promise me that you'll let one of those three guys wearing the strange name tags have the seat next." She promised, did a cartwheel, and then....

*Okay, I only had about half an hour. I hope I did you proud, CC. Every word was the truth. :kiss: And sylje, in case you missed the reference...it's your turn now. ;) But don't forget what you promised, or I'll be very mad and :censor: your ass. hehehe.

sylouette
September 26th, 2005, 12:01 PM
sat down to continue reading...but couldn't help to watch the woman as she walked away noticing what a beautiful woman she was. Her golden hair flowing down her back against a sky blue silk blouse. Her body was beautifully proportioned. Her blue jeans seemed as though they were painted on her because I could see her every curve. The sandal heels she wore sensualized her stride...so feminine. The woman turned back as if she felt my eyes on her. She slowed her pace and continued to look back at me as though there was something about me she hadn't noticed before. I lowered my eyes feeling slightly embarassed but quickly looked up at her again. It wasn't long before she stopped and began walking back. She turned to her daughter and told her to wait there for a moment. My heart began racing with the feeling that she might have been insulted. When she reached the bench, she sat down beside me and asked "Do I know you from somewhere?" I smiled with relief and said, "No, I don't think so." I struggled with what to say next and at the same time feeling strangely erotic as I could smell the musk of her body. "My name is Syl" I said quickly trying to fill in the void. She smiled back at me and said "I'm HappyLady". She asked me what I was reading and I showed her my Sylvia Browne book. I asked her if she had heard of her writings. She told me she had but was not much into that kind of thing.

I noticed her looking off into the distance at a man in a wheelchair. Then her attention came back to me. She asked me, "Do you have any children or are you married?" I looked down as if not wanting to answer. I told her "There's a man I love very much in my life...but I can't have him." She looked at me confused and asked "Why"?

Just then her daughter yelled over....."Mommy, come on!!" I'm hungry!" HappyLady looked and smiled at me and said "I'm so sorry but I have to go. Here, let me give you my number and maybe you can call me sometime?" She quickly scuffled through her purse and pulled out a pen. I held out my Sylvia Browne book for her to write her number on. She scribbled down a number and got up and walked away waving goodbye. But I noticed she kept looking back at me until she disappeared.

As I sat back to try and get my mind back on my reading...I couldn't help but to think of this man I love so much...wondering what he was doing at that moment. Was he thinking about me? Does he think about me as much as I think about him? I began feeling aroused by the thought of him.

Just then a man walked up to the bench and said, "Excuse me, but is this seat taken? I looked up at him trying to bring my senses back and said "Oh, no....please, sit down." He introduced himself as Pervirtuous. I said "Hi, I'm Syl, nice to meet you" and gazed down into my book pretending to read.....

Perviruous.......tag, your it!

PerVirtuous
September 26th, 2005, 04:02 PM
PerV sat down and took a look around. He didn't really know where he was since nobody had bothered to describe it, but soon a large city park complete with squirrels and trees and hippies on blankets sprang into mind. It was a brisk autumn day and the air had a sense of playfulness.

"Do you mind if I ask what you are reading?" Perv offered.

"Not at all, go ahead." Syl replied, and looked at her book again smiling. After a pregnant pause, Perv said, "Ahhh." and nodded.

"What are you reading?"

"A book."

"A paperback?"

"Why yes. You've seen one before?"

"Only on TV. I thought people who read books were like locked up in a museum or something." Perv suddenly had changed to the most amusing surfer voice imaginable. Sly laughed heartily despite herself. As she laughed she noticed his nametag. P-e-r-V-i-r-t-o-u-s, Then underneath in tiny letters, Founding member of, "We don't lick asses." club.

"What does THAT mean?" Syl pointed at his nametag.

"It's a play on words. I believe in personal virtue. But it takes too long to say."

Syl giggled very hard. "No, not that. THAT!" And she stuck her finger into his nametag.

"Ohhh, THAT!" He feigned surprise. "Well, my skanky friend and I decided it would be shorter than naming the club after all the things we WOULD do. There certainly wouldn't be room for all of that on a name tag, for instance."

Sly was organically confused. This man was saying such silly, funny things, but his voice and demeanor were so serious that she didn't know whether he was serious or kidding. She looked into his eyes and tried to see if there was a clue there. His eyes were talking to her. She did not know how to put it any other way. Their eyes were having a conversation. She tried to speak two or three times. Finally she looked down at her book and said, "It's a book by Sylvia Browne. I like it because..."

"It is a positive book. A book that champions life and puts it into a positive perspective. Much like that man in the wheelchair has demonstrated this afternoon. I used to believe that myself."

"You don't believe that anymore?"

"I can't. Now I have proof and know it for a fact. Belief is not enough anymore. Life is the best. There is nothing bad about life. By the way, how long has it been since you have seen HIM?"

"Seen whom?" Syl's pupils dilated and she stiffened suddenly.

"Your eyes say that you've been pining for quite some time. I've seen that look before. I have mirrors." Perv feigned a look of great sadness that reminded Syl of a mime.

"Do not presume that you know me." Syl bristled a bit.

"Yes, everybody says that when I hit a nerve." He turned to face her squarely and leaned slightly forward. "Ever hear the paradox, 'eat your cake and have it, too?'" He asked in the gentlest voice. He was practically singing softly to her.

"Yes." She said timidly. She wondered where he could possibly go with this.

"You have your cake stored in a breadbox right here." He put his hand over his heart. "You are doing yourself an injustice by focusing on the fact that you can't EAT your cake, when you could focus on HAVING your cake, and enjoying it forever." He arched his eyebrows in a very funny way. Syl had never seen such an expressive face. In spite of her shyness around strangers, she laughed a big belly laugh at his histrionics. As she laughed she struggled to understand this strange statement.

"What do you mean?" She said when she finally calmed down. She was smiling broadly while trying not to. Perv stood up and stretched so that all of the bones in his spine snapped. Then he turned to her with kind and gentle eyes and said,

"She knows exactly what I mean." He pointed at Syl's heart. "If you listen to her and stop feeling sorry, she'll tell you what I mean." And he began walking away. As he walked he muttered something to himself over and over. Then he pulled a pen out of his pocket and wrote something on his hand. He put his head down, whistled and snapped his fingers to the rhythm. Syl thought he might be dancing as he walked away.

She sat in stunned silence. All at once she felt like laughing, crying, hugging somebody and joining a convent. She was lost in her own world. She put her book down. She wondered how this man could cause such feelings. She put her hands on her face. Laughed a few times. Stood up, took a deep breath, smiled, picked up her book and bounded off down the path. A step and a half along she smacks into a bicyclist, knocking him head over heals.

"Oh my God, I am so sorry!" Syl cried out as she rushed to the aid of the cyclist.

"Are you all right?" She said to the man, wondering if his eyes were always crossed or if he was hurt.

"Xanadu Moo. And yours?" He said and stuck out a hand with a bicycling glove on it. She shook his hand and watched as the eyes came into focus.

"Syl." She said sorrowfully. A crowd was gathering around. The man in the wheelchair came over.

"Let me have a look at him."

************************************************** **********************

Tag Xanadu, you're it!

Xanadu Moo
September 26th, 2005, 11:34 PM
All I could think of was flipping the bike, over and over in slow motion. There were suddenly a dozen buzzing voices with just one blurry face.

My last normal thought had been of a mysterious-looking woman in my psyche's rearview mirror with long, wavy hair, making her way across the lawn. My eyes must have wandered just long enough to take my focus off where I was riding.

Another female voice seemed to be attached to the face in front of me. "Are you dead or not?" she asked.

I looked at this face containing the soft but purposeful voice, and mustered a few syllables to demonstrate my consciousness, which at the moment was highly overstated. "Send a – to move... and hers," which I think was supposed to mean, "Get a paramedic... get me up..." followed by now omnipresent thoughts of the wavy woman. I did all I could to hold my hand up to shade the blinding sun, and for some reason this personified voice grabbed my hand and started shaking it back and forth. She mumbled something about my being an imbecile, which I thought was rather odd considering I had absorbed the brunt of the punishment. So I guess no sympathy from that corner.

And then came a masculine voice. I squinted and saw a guy bringing me a wheelchair, but then he wouldn't get out of it, and if I had enough energy then I would've said, "What are you doing in my wheelchair? I need it more than you." But instead, I couldn't make my mouth say what I wanted it to. There was a strange sensation that my intentions were not getting across. I tried motioning, but had little mobility and less strength. The man bringing me my wheelchair kept examining me while talking to the others, but he didn't vacate the chair. I was vacillating between being perturbed at him and managing the sharp twinges in my neck.

Would I ever see the wavy woman again? Was she getting away while I lie motionless baking in the afternoon sun? What cruel twist of fate would dance a dream in front of me one moment to but yank it away and taunt me the next? The dichotomies of life are the killers, I thought to myself. Nobody disagreed with me, locked in my cocoon. Then everyone went away. They had to go somewhere, but I couldn't go. I knew they'd be back, because the park would be closing before long.

In one version, I flip over the handle bars and the earth comes up to greet me. This is replayed often. In another version, a hairy beast grabs my bike and throws me to the ground, leaving me for dead. I can't stop the scene from unwinding. My mind races, but it can't get away. The repetition lends itself to full memorization of every detail, from every angle. I soon become a figment of my own imagination.

"You OK?" Now everybody has robes and gowns on. They must've gone away to change their clothes. "Huh?" What do they mean, am I OK? When are they gonna move me– oh, wait, I'm not at the park any more. This is a strange dream.

A woman with long, wavy hair is covered by a mask, and I have a mask too, but it's a bigger mask. This isn't right. I have to leave. But I'm not going anywhere. I've been strapped down and gagged. Meanwhile, a bear cub rides around the table on my bike. It looks in good shape. At least all is not lost.

"Xanadu, you've fallen and sustained significant injuries," the woman relays. "Get some rest." And then it was hazy again.

When I awoke, more people were standing around me. They looked at me like they knew me, half-smiling and half-pensive. A woman who looked sad approached me. "It's Xanadu, right?" she asked.

"Uhh... I don't know what you mean..." was all I could think of.

The woman came a little closer and leaned over. "You said your name was Xanadu Moo after you fell off the bike," she tried again. And she waited for some validation of her suspicions.

I just stared. I looked around for anyone who was offering clues. However, it was a cadre of empty faces. They were all in this together. It was then I figured that it was me against them. I had nothing to offer them, and they had even less to offer me.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I can't tell you what my name is." And that was all I said. Minutes passed, but one by one they filed out, in a sorrowful march for the damned. Heads hung low, casting long, dark shadows. I wondered where they were going. I wondered where they had just been. Everything still had a mysterious odor. Over the intercom, a soft but purposeful voice called out, "Doctor Jekyll to the critical ward." Only later was I to realize that there was no intercom.

Mr. Hyde
September 27th, 2005, 04:48 AM
I'll lay out something as soon as I get back from class.

Mr. Hyde
September 27th, 2005, 11:16 AM
Down the stairs to the ward where the new guy is Nev hands me his chart. "Xanadu Moo. He suffered some pretty serious injuries after falling from a bike." "What? DId he fall off a cliff or something?" "It's possible, that, or he was attacked by something and the bike is a cover story." "Well, whatever, I'll give a once over real quick."

I open the door to his room and without breaking stride on my way to a chair I say assertively, "Good afternoon Mr. Moo. I'm Dr. Jekyll, but everyone calls me Mr. Hyde. I'll be your doctor today." He doesn't reply. I can understand why. No one really wants help at first. I open a drawer and pull out goss and antiseptics and a few tools. He sits still. Stoic. Catatonic. Statuesque while I use clean the blood and cuts before packing goss on them and bandaging him up.

"So, my nurse-" "CO-WORKER....ASSHOLE!" "Co-worker tells me you sustained all these injuries in a fall of some sort?" He says quietly, "Bicycle accident." "Sounds like a nasty lil' spill. Now, I'm going to be honest with you Mr. Moo. If you cooperate with us, you will wake up and live to ride again. If you don't cooperate, you stand a very good chance of dying." He replies, "How good a chance?" And I to he remark, "How does one hundred percent sound?" He sits quietly for a few minutes.

"So I'm guaranteed to die if I don't help?" "Pretty much. Ya see, in cases like this, one hundred percent of the time half the people die." "That doesn't make sense." "That's because: A) you're asleep, and B) You hit your head so all my logic is screwed. Now focus for a moment and let's get you awake."

"So how do I wake up?" he asks.

I tell him, "It's difficult to explain. In every person's brain is what we call a mental hospital. Right now, you're in the critical world. It's like the real world ER except the plot twist is: if the patient dies, everyone dies."

"So how again do I wake up?"

"FIrst is getting you out of here, and since you're cooperating and showing interest in living, we can transfer you to the 'Comatose Floor'." I help him into a wheel chair and we set forth to the elevator and ride up three floors to the designated floor. He stands and several people from his own life are dressed as nurses, doctors, and other patients. Doctor PerVirtuous and CC were there as well with some woman I'd never met before.

They were all saying how they were going to wake up Xanadu. We had all grabbed a pack of smelling salts and dragged them under his nose until there was no question he was awake.

He sits up and stares over at me walking towards them there in the park. "HEY! Am I awake!?" I stop and look around. "I...sure hope...so." I stand next to him and help him to his feet before working my last cigarette into my lips and lighting it. I glance over at the elegant woman. The cat among dogs. And I ask, "So who are you?" It's a jerk way to ask, but she answers, "Sylj. And you?" "Mr. Hyde."

"And what do you do for a living young man?" she asks. Per smiles and says, "He upholds morality." "Oh let it go. I'm a writer." And she wants to know if I'm any good. "Have you ever heard of me?" She says no. "Then I guess I'm not that good." CC laughs and remarks, "Weirdest thing, half the time you can't tell if he's being modest or a smart ass."

"Who was that with you and the tape CC?" "Some woman named HappyLady. Nice woman, attractive." "Seemed familiar. In any case, have you guys and gal seen Slipnish today?"
******
Time for Slip to take bat.

Slipnish
September 28th, 2005, 06:28 AM
Slipnish ambled down the hall, occasionally glancing into the rooms to see what was going on in the hospital around him. Having just completed half his shift in the psych ward, he was ready for lunch, and a small amount of private time in which he could return to the book he was currently reading.

Passing by the last treatment room, he noted Dr. Hyde treating a man for various scrapes and bruises. In passing he caught a few seconds of conversation, but decided not to intrude. After all, he wasn't a doctor, and the man didn't seem to be a candidate for the rubber room ward.

Making his way down to the cafeteria proved more arduous than usual. The halls were packed, the elevators slow, and in general the hustle and bustle of the hospital seemed to be rollicking along at hyper-pace. By the time he got to the first floor, he was more than a little exasperated, and the constant delays were eating into his lunch hour.

"Jeez," he thought, "These people remind me of the folks in that old black and white movie..what was it's name? Metropolis. Yeah, that's it. Just like the factory workers. Lift that barge, tote that bale, turn that wrench!"

"Corporate drones, the lot of them. More worried about their jobs and covering their butts than doing anything fun or even out of the ordinary."

He half smiled as images of an impromptu orgy danced through his mind. Pictures of sploshing through the salad bar with a couple of the more attractive nurses made him actually smile as he invented interesting and novel ways to play "hide the olive."

"Excuse me?" came a voice from behind Slip.

"What?" he said a little too quickly, a shade of impatience betraying his minor annoyance at being broken from his reverie. Having been a large man all his life, he understood that movements and voice inflection had to be his stock in trade. Move too fast, speak too quickly, and people were intimidated by his large size, and interpolated "rudeness."

It made for some interesting interpersonal interactions at times.

He looked back and down at the form of a blonde female doctor. Her pink scrubs with kittens all over them identified her as someone who worked in the neo-natal or children's unit, and her badge identified her as Tinker Bell M.D.

"Oh, heh. Excuse me doctor. I was wool gathering there for a minute. Guess I need to move up and join the line, hun?"

Tink smiled, and nodded.

"Well, that would be nice. I would like to get something to eat eventually."

Slip moved up, and joined the rest of the line, noting that he was almost to the trays and silverware. No sooner had he placed his tray on the metal runners, when the power to the hospital went out.

A wave of dispair driven moans swept the room as people looked up, seemingly searching the ceiling for answers to the darkness. In seconds the hospital's emergency generators roared into life, sucking up the load, and sending out literally life saving electricity through the hospital's grid.

Slip turned back to Dr. Bell and said, "Figures huh?"

The attractive blonde pushed a stray wisp of hair behind her right ear, and replied, "I suppose. And of course today I am starving to absolute death..."

Her voice trailed off as her beeper and a couple of others in the room went off. Even as her hand reached for the device, another beeper went off, followed by another. And then another. Finally, as if some electronic conductor had raised an invisible wand, every beeper in the place was bathing the air with its electronic call to arms.

The cacophany was electronic, annoying, and scary as hell. What ever had happened, couldn't be good...

TAG TINK. YOU ARE IT!

tinkerbell
September 28th, 2005, 10:42 AM
Tink glanced down at her bubble gum pink beeper. Even though she was a 31 year old woman, there was something very childlike about her. This, no less included her wardrobe. Dressed in pink kitten scrubs that always brought cheer to the young patients, down to her favorite pair of sparkly pink clamshell toed Adidas. She continued to glance at her pager and then looked at her Baby-G watch that looked huge on her child sized wrists. The watch was always set at least 45 min. early because Tink was notorious for running late.
"Great!" She thought. There were several pages listed on her pager. Two from the Childrens Ward, 1 from her Husband and the last from her "friend" Happylady. She looked at the tall attractive man and was reminded of her own gianormous husband.. People had laughed at Tink over the men she had persued since High School. Even though she was hardly 5'2", she always liked her men well over 6 foot. She continued glancing at him, when she realized she was still standing there with an empty tray.
The room was busting with energy and chatter. Tink starting to float back down from her wandering thoughts remebered she had been paged from her ward.She glanced up a realized the man was looking at her like she was from outerspace. Tink had learned early, a cute blush and fake sweet innocent look could usually distract a man from what an odd ball she actually was. She tossed the tall handsome stranger her famous visage, and then tossed the tray down on an empty table and turned on one heel and took off in a semi-skip towards the oversized elevator, that would glide her quietly to her floor.
She bounced off the elevator. The floor was busy. Tink glanced around a noticed a small group of children playing at a oversized LEGO table, There was a mom sitting in the corner, lap covered in crumbled damp tissues.Her husband standing close by, talking quietly in a cell phone. Tinks heart went out to any parent that had to visit their child in a hospital. In her head she said a quick prayer for the family and their child. Then scanning her eyes to the left, her eyes fell on her dark looming boss, Apok.
Apok was standing there leering down at Tink. Apok always felt Tink was a flibertyjibbet, and she knew it. In fact many people saw her this way. Maybe she was a little too airheaded to care, or maybe she knew this was her secret weapon for getting the things she wanted out of life and people. It's not that Tink was stupid or silly, just a little unaware and spoiled.
Apok was pointing down at his watch. His overly blue eyes staring her down in judgment. Apok was a pretty boy, and he knew it. He had an ego the size of Africa.
"When I page you, you answer, We had a crisis, the main power turned off!" Apok grumbled
"I'm aware of that, I was getting lunch."..."Look, I'm sorry, I have been working 15 hours straight and haven't had a bite in over 10. Guess lack of sleep and food got to my head." Replied Tink
"There is always an excuse with you." Tink started thinking of all the times she had heard her own Father- give her the same line.
She gazed up at Apok and wondered how many hours this man spent grooming. The thick jet black hair, no split ends. She silently wondered what products he used.
Just then Dr. Booger, chief of surgeons, the most famous and accomplished of all the resident doctors strolled up.
Dr. Boog had a jovial nature. He was the type of man that kept all the female's on staff giggling. They all had little crushes on him. He ruled his Hospital with great wisdom and fairness. He was concerned with the patients and employees, not the Drug Reps, Insurance Companies, and the cash cow of modern medicine. Tink had an undying love and respect for Dr. Booger, He was her mentor.
"Good Afternoon Apok." Smirking at Apok. "Hello Tink, busy day?"
"Yes, I really could use a rest, and a phone."..."No problem, things seem to be back under control. Seems a new Janitor, I think his name is BF55, was playing down in the morgue, he thought it would be funny to see what would happen if he removed a fuse from the central power station down stairs." Just then Dr. Boog and Apok both were paged over the loud speaker.
Tink watched as both Doctors went hustling off to solve some crisis.
"
Just then Tink slipped her had into her pocket and looked.She could feel the envelope in her pocket....Worry about that later, she thought.."OH, The phone!" She knew this time of the day her husband was tied up with clients. SO she decided to call Happylady back.
"Hello..." Came a breathless Happy.
"Hoochie! Whatcha doing?"
"Thinking of you my sweet Tink....Can you get away tonight?"
"I believe so...Same place?' Tink sat chewing her pen, waiting for the answer she already knew.
"Of course...I need to tell you something....I saw her again today in the park. She was sitting on the bench reading a book. I know it was her." Happy said in a hushed, but frantic voice.
Tink could feel her pulse increasing..."Did you talk."
" I approached her, she looked a little different, I gave her my number."
"Do you think she will call?"
"I'm not sure, she tried to act like she didn't know me."
Interesting Tink thought.....
Then Happy said something that took her breath away.....

OK Go Happy, you are it! This was too difficult with 5 babies screaming behind me.

HappyLady
September 28th, 2005, 12:21 PM
As I walked away from Syl, I kept my eye on her. Not because I wanted to look at her, but because I wanted to make sure she was still watching me. I took my girls by the hands and said, "Your Dad should be here any second to take you guys to get something for lunch. I bet you both want chicken nuggets, don't you!" And the little yellow-haired four year old chimed in and said, "And fries! And a toy!" And I said, "And milkshakes!" They bubbled and hopped around smiling and giggling. I walked just a short way to the meeting place and there was Mr. Never Late. "You're late! I thought you were supposed to meet me a half hour ago," he lectured. "After all these years, you haven't accepted that yet," I lightheartedly replied. He rolled his eyes. I thanked myself for divorcing him.

He gave the girls hugs hello and then I gave them hugs goodbye. That always stings just a little. "I'll see you sweeties tomorrow morning. Have fun! Oh, by the way, hon, they want you to take them to Micky D's for Happy Meals." Julianne yelled, "And milkshakes!" He rolled his eyes at me again because he didn't like it when I used the kids to make him do things he didn't want to do. I smirked with an inner sense of victory as they all walked away knowing he'd be resenting every second of his lunch with them at a crappy fast food restaurant.

I breathed a heavy two-part sigh. The first part was because I was glad to be free for the day. The second part was because I knew what would be going down later that evening. I could still see Syl sitting on the park bench. She was sitting with one of those strange name-tagged men, the "Pervirtuous" man. At that moment, I wished I had looked at the name tags a little more closely, because there was more writing than just the names. He was looking at her book and they were chatting. He must have caught her attention because she seemed to forgot all about me. I observed them both until the man stood up and walked away. As he walked, he wrote something on his hand. I suspected that he took down my phone number. I felt a little violated so I decided to follow him...to find out what he wanted my number for without directly asking.

As I followed him, I passed by several men. There was one who stood out. A man cycling. He about broke his neck trying to check me out. I was used to men watching me all the time. I knew it wasn't because they liked what they saw, because I looked like every other 30-something mom. I thought maybe I made them curious about something that even they couldn't pinpoint and that not-knowing what it was intrigued them. At one time in my life I indulged in the thoughts that they just liked what they saw. When I was younger, I worked very hard on my body, on my look, on my vanity. But as I got older, I realized there were other ways of getting what I needed and I was so much better at those skills. Nature blessed me with curves in all the right places and I used them artistically. But nature also had another thing in the works for me. I was just beginning to learn it, but so much of it still eluded me.

When I say the man about broke his neck trying to check me out, I mean he literally did. I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he nearly ran over Syl. I realized that while I was following the guy with the "Pervirtuous" name tag, she was following me. I wanted to go to the man on the cycle, to apologize for capturing his curiosity. I wanted to tell him, "I know why you stare at me. It's not the cleavage or the painted on jeans. It's...something else. But I can't tell you what it is any more than you can tell me, because...I just don't know." I wanted to ask him if he could tell me, if maybe he did know, wondering if I was the only one who was clueless.

I knew I couldn't go to the man, though. He looked like he was severely injured. While I held his focus for that moment before he crashed, I probably instantly left his mind when he crashed into the pavement. I laughed at the thought and then stopped, because it seemed mean to laugh at an injured man. I couldn't go to him, because I had to lose Syl. The last thing I needed was her following me around, pretending like she didn't know who I was and acting like we never met. I laughed at that, too, but I didn't feel mean. I couldn't go to him because I had to keep up with Pervirtuous since he either didn't see the crash or just didn't care that it happened. I had to keep following him if I was ever going to find out what he was up to.

He was walking with purpose as I strolled behind him enjoying the beautiful scenery of the park. A man walking in the other direction approached him and they both stopped to talk. I moved up a little closer to try to hear, but I couldn't. Then the man continued in my direction. As he got closer, he made direct eye contact with me and smiled. He was wearing one of those strange nametags, too. It said, "Fruit N Nut". And underneath it said, "Member of the We Don't Lick Asses Club". I laughed in disbelief.

I reached in to pull my razor cell phone out of my pocket. It was a little hard to reach into my pocket, being that my jeans were so tight. I don't even know how I managed to breathe in them let alone get things into my pockets. I didn't usually dress that way, but I knew I would be seeing my ex that day, and I wanted him to remember just for a moment what he lost. And I knew I'd be seeing Tinker Bell later and I always liked to look good for her. That is who I wanted to call if I could just get the phone out of my pocket. I had to tell Tinkerbell what was going on.

Tinkerbell and I had been "friends" for a very long time. I don't know whether we had a lot in common or if we didn't, but what kept us friends was our mutual understanding and deep love and respect for each other. I knew that she was busy saving the world one child at a time, so I beeped her to give her time to call me back. She called and I was so happy to hear her sweet voice. I asked her if we were still going to go through with our plan and I already knew what the answer was. I told her about Syl, too. I knew she'd have a little laugh with me about it. Then I said, "Tink, have you ever heard of the 'We Don't Lick Asses Club'?" It sounded like Tink just stopped breathing and she didn't answer me. I didn't expect her reaction. Maybe she knew something I didn't know.

I said, "Tink, are you there?" But the phone went dead. "I must have lost signal," I thought. And then I suddenly felt someone's hand on my ass. Most women would be startled or, at the very least, offended by such a gesture. I kind of liked it. And besides, I already knew who it was before I turned around to see. He didn't take his hand off my ass. Instead, as I turned to see who I already knew was there, he just moved in closer, so that his arm was around my waist and his hand was still firmly planted on my ass.

I saw Fruit N Nut with a look on his face like a little kid who has his hand in the cookie jar and isn't afraid of getting caught, but instead is thrilled beyond belief to be getting away with it. I expected to see him. But what I didn't expect to see was Pervirtuous, President of the We Don't Lick Asses Club standing behind Fruit N Nut. "How did HE get there? I was following HIM," I thought. I didn't say it out loud, but the perplexed look on my face gave everything away to Pervirtuous as he looked me directly in the eye and smiled his own tender and devious smile. And then Fruit N Nut, whose hand was still on my ass, said....

CC
September 28th, 2005, 03:33 PM
OH! (if we run out of names in here we can also PM someone that it's their turn?)............:O)

FruitandNut
September 29th, 2005, 03:25 AM
“Don’t be confused HappyLady, Pervy our most esteemed President stands in front of you in all his cool magnificence because he is a Time Lord; indeed we are all Time Lords”. He looks intensely into my eyes, the hand on my waist caressing its way to the other cheek. Fruity looks at PV and smiles, saying, “Yes Perve, HappyLady seems like a sassy gal, I think we should help to get her ex steaming about what he is missing.” He winks and gives my cheeks a little squeeze. Letting go of my butt he turns to the ’Don’t Lick Asses Club’ President and suggests they take Tinks and me back to the 1950s for some serious Rock and Roll dancing lessons.

Fruity says, “I can feel that these guys are already hot, but we will have them so hot that HappyLady’s ex’s juices will sizzle with frustration. Just imagine HappyLady with Tinks doing red hot jives and maybe even an odd slinky Lambada in front of him. But first they must get the right gear, complete with bobby socks, then we will take them to dance in front of Bill Haley, Elvis and Jerry Lee Lewis. Heck Perve, I can feel myself getting real hot at the thought.”

It seemed like just the blink of an eye and there Tinks and myself were standing in front of the R and R giants of yesteryear, both of us looking like Olivia Newton John stand ins. “I must be dreaming”, I gasped. PerVirtuous grinned and whispered in a low voice that tingled me, “Remember what Fruity said about us being Time Lords”. Then Elvis and the Jordanaires get stuck into ’Jailhouse Rock’ and ’Teddy Bear’ and I found Tinks and myself dancing as if in a trance possessed. Then I noticed hundreds of couples on the dance floor moving back, to give us space, to stare and to admire. We were jiving away in front of The King himself. Elvis looked on with approval he turns to Bill Haley and Jerry Lee and winks, and in a low voice close-by my ear he says, "You ladies shor groovy, soon be time to make way for Time Lord Snoopy to show you how to dance a hot Lambada." And for a second time in one day I feel a Time Lord's hand on my butt. Snoopy's other hand is exploring ....

Snoop
September 29th, 2005, 05:18 AM
After the time dance was over we were transported to the future - on a flying pancake powered by maple syrup distilled from the roots of an exotic tree found only in this future time period. In the land of the future, games and their outcome ruled the masses. Baseball, football, basketball, hockey, ping pong, volleyball, tennis, golf - you name it, they played it. The only games that were outlawed were war games. Games were taught to the children as soon as they could stop drooling.

My day was to begin with a game of chess with the loser of the previous tournament. The loser of our game would be sent back to the past to do more research and to get more experience (and continue their sexual perversions).

It seems like I have spent my whole life preparing for this event. I have analyzed my opponent for weaknesses while enhancing my skills by participating in an Online Debate Network. Debating is very much like a game of chess - think about it.

The spectators were all there - HL, Tink, CC, PerVert, Fruity, Hyde, XM, Slip - the judge was a mysterious man with a name that no one could pronounce "Alollapakalopsis". My opponent was a religious zealot who would use the bible as his principle weapon. All his moves were based on biblical propheses. His name was Nanderson.

You turn Nandy.

nanderson
September 29th, 2005, 11:46 AM
Yes indeed, it was truly a high stakes game of chess. Neither myself nor the man they called “Snoop” wanted to be sent back into the past on the flying pancake of time to continue our sexual perversions. But this was the path I chose, I knew the risks of going into the future on that amazing maple-powered flapjack but I just couldn’t resist, PetV’s offer was just to great.

You see, it was only three months ago that I got married to my beautiful wife. I remember it like it was yesterday, seeing her walk down the isle with tears of joy in her eyes, both of us waiting with anticipation for the pastor to pronounce us man and wife. We got married that day, June 10th, and that began the start of our new life. It was only two short months later that I saw those same tears of joy come from her eyes, we were sitting in the car and she was showing me a pregnancy test that read “pregnant”. We were both so overwhelmed…we embraced each other and cried tears of joy, we were going to be parents and our family was already starting to grow, everything was going perfectly.

The next day as I pulled into work, I noticed that there was a man standing in the place I normally park. This man was looking intently at me as I pulled in…it was almost like he was waiting for me, like he KNEW I was going to be pulling into that spot. I started to pull into the parking space fully expecting the man to move, but he didn’t, instead he just kept gazing at me with an all knowing stare that sent a chill down my spine. I rolled down my window and politely asked the man to move, but he just shook his head. I inched the car even closer to him but he didn’t budge, not even an inch. So I got out of my car, walked up to the man and asked what he wanted, why he wouldn’t move. He then explained to me that he was the President of a league of liberal half-lizard time lords known as the “We don’t lick asses club” sent to “show” me something. I started to laugh but judging by the look on his face he wouldn’t have been too happy if I found humor in his statement. He called himself “PetV” (short for PetVirtous) and explained that if I traveled with him to the future on his maple powered pancake and won a game of chess, that he would be able to tell me my families future and armed with this knowledge I would then be able to change the future for my families benefit. He warned me however, that if I lost the game of chess I would be sent to the into the past and forced to indulge in sexual perversions. I tried to mask what I really thought of this man, that I thought he was crazy, but my facial expressions betrayed me. An evil smirk came across PetV’s face and just then, out of nowhere the maple powered pancake came flying down from the sky…at that moment he said “wanna go for a ride?” I couldn’t resist, the thought of being able to change the future for my family's benefit was too great, I just had to do it.

So here I am, in the future, down several pieces in a game of chess to the man known as “Snoop”. The room is dark, one single light high above me and Snoop luminates the chess board. There are other people in the room, I sense them though I do not see them. Snoop glares at me, smiling from ear to ear knowing that he has me in a bind…I am about to lose the game and I am beginning to realize that I might never see my wife again. Just then it hits me, Amos 1:15 “15 Her king will go into exile, he and his officials together,says the LORD”! I always use Bible prophecy when playing chess, and Snoops king was DEFINITELY in exile, hidden behind all his pawns. All I needed to do was remember the next verse of Amos….ah yes…Amos 2:2 “I will send fire upon Moab that will consume the fortresses...”. Remembering this verse gave me inspiration, I start positioning all my pieces to attack Snoop’s “fortress”…It worked…I had pinned Snoops’ king so that it could not move anymore…CHECKMATE! I lept out of my chair and began dancing around the room. Just then PetV stepped into the light and quickly led Snoop back onto the flying pancake to be exiled into the past…Just then a man called “Xanadu Moo” stepped forward, wrapped his lizard hands around PetV’s neck and said…

Xanadu Moo
September 29th, 2005, 04:26 PM
“The gig is up. You heard me, the gig is up.” No one moved for what seemed like eight seconds. Snoop, who had been staring at the ground trying to stay inconspicuous, looked up and asked sheepishly, “Just out of curiosity, what exactly can I infer from your declaration of the gig being up? And then later if there’s still time for some idle chit-chat, you could perchance enlighten us as to what all comprises a gig, in your humble lexicon, of course.” Xanadu Moo was not impressed. His eyes illuminated like a stoplight that had had one too many, and thick plumes of purple smoke began emanating from his flaring nostrils. “I absolutely hate when I get these sinus infections. It really gets my girdle in a bind,” he bellowed. “OK, you – the one who thinks he’s Gene Kelly – put down your umbrella and get over here.” <?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><o:p></o:p>

“The name’s nanderthal, sir,” he intoned.<o:p></o:p>

“Is that capitalized or not?” Xanadu inquired.<o:p></o:p>

“No capitalization required, sir.”<o:p></o:p>

“You’re lucky, because I’m a firm believer in capital punishment. It would appear that this is your lucky day.” He motioned for nanderthal to stand over by the rest of them.<o:p></o:p>

Meanwhile, PetV was remembering his previous breath like it was just yesterday. “Oh yeah, I forgot about you,” Xanadu sarcastically confessed. And he eased up on PetV’s throat enough to let through tiny wisps of oxygen, about one molecule at a time.<o:p></o:p>

“You don’t think I know the match was fixed? Snoop, you were duped.” Snoop, thereby having been duped, dropped his jaw melodramatically for effect. “No way.” “Yep. Tell ‘em, PetV. Oh, you can’t talk, can you? Hmm. That could be a problem...”<o:p></o:p>

Xanadu towered over the rest of them. His aura of supreme dominance resonated like a radio station on steroids. “You see, nanderthal here was being fed messages via a highly integrated signal containing various Old and New Testament scripture. We at first became suspicious when his knight captured three successive pawns in classic Tiberian strategy. But the clincher when we finally intercepted the messages six moves prior to checkmate came with the striking blow of 1 Peter 2:25: ‘For ye were as sheep going astray, but are now returned unto the shepherd and bishop of your souls,’ which was curiously followed by a bishop’s advance to the left flank, limiting the king to only two possible moves. Yes, it’s true, and–”<o:p></o:p>

A shot rang out from the stolid air, catching Xanadu Moo in his only Achilles heel – his Achilles heel. This sent him spinning to the floor, and PetV was released from his grasp.<o:p></o:p>

Syl sprang down from the rafters with technotronic highbeam maple-powered phaser – complete with gamma ray photon equalizer – in hand, and stood in front of Xanadu, who was lying in the fetal position and chanting passages from the Apocrypha.<o:p></o:p>

“So… we’re not so smart any more, are we?” She pointed her weapon at his forehead. “I’ll give you eleven seconds to reveal to me the location of your hideout,” she said.<o:p></o:p>

“Only eleven seconds? I can’t possibly–”<o:p></o:p>

“OK, we’ll make it fourteen seconds, but only because I’m in a good mood. You’re on the clock.” And all eyes were on Xanadu.<o:p></o:p>

“Ah– OK, you win. Our operation… is at a concealed location that you can only get to by–” <o:p></o:p>

Bang! And in an instant, Xanadu was dead.<o:p></o:p>

“Who did that?” Syl asked. “Who shot him? That was only twelve seconds by my watch. What did the rest of you have?”<o:p></o:p>

“I had thirteen seconds,” said Snoop.<o:p></o:p>

“I had twelve seconds,” said nanderthal.<o:p></o:p>

“Me too,” said PetV.<o:p></o:p>

“Well then,” said Syl, “it appears someone around here has got a bad watch.” And she looked around the room. Everyone was emptyhanded.<o:p></o:p>

Syl crouched down next to Xanadu. “Do you have any last words, my friend?”<o:p></o:p>

“He’s dead, Syl,” reminded PetV.<o:p></o:p>

“Oh, right.” Syl examined the wound carefully. “It appears that the shot was fired from that direction,” and she pointed toward the doorway. “It came at a 28° angle at a velocity of approximately 1100 feet per second. Based on those factors and the barometric reading on the wall, I’d say there are only two people who could have fired that shot.”<o:p></o:p>

sylouette
September 29th, 2005, 07:17 PM
Oh, I guess that means it's my turn??? Oh boy...you're going to have to give me a little time to come up with something. How many hours do we get? I've got an idea but I'm not quite sure where to go with it yet.

Mr. Hyde
September 29th, 2005, 07:27 PM
How many hours do we get?
You have 48 hrs. The clock is ticking Mrs. Sylj.

I've got an idea but I'm not quite sure where to go with it yet.
All eyes appear to be looking up, so we suggest going in that direction. ;)

sylouette
September 29th, 2005, 09:04 PM
.....so I ran for the door, opened it, and looked down the hallway. There were two guys hastly walking around the corner. I ran as fast as I could to catch up but realized that the long strap on my phaser rifle kept catching onto my high heel sandal. As I bent down to untangle the strap, I could feel the cold air on my cheek of my ass as it peeked out from under my shorts. The feeling almost distracted me from my mission but I quickly drew my attention back. I threw the phaser rifle aside.

As I turned the corner, I bumped smack into CC and Spartacus. In my sexiest voice I said, "Just what I thought". I then realized what an idiotic idea it was to have thrown away my phaser rifle. CC lifted his AK-47. "You're not getting it, Sylje", CC said. I turned to Spartacus, and brought my body close to his. I pressed my breasts up against his chest. I could feel my nipples erect as I leaned against his chest and brought my lips as close to his as I could so that he could feel my hot breath as I whispered "I want the Big Gun, Spartacus. And I want it now." CC grabbed Sylje around the neck and said "You'll never get it!" and at the same time turned to Spartacus and said "She won't be able to get it, right?" Just Before Spartacus's could answer....

another man came rushing from the other room in a camo, running like a wild beast. Sweat dripping off his HUGE burly frame! "Who are you?", I asked? "I'm SnoopCity", but I like to be referred to as "Rambo" sometimes. Snoopcity turned to CC and Spartacus and said "Did you reveal the hideout?" I looked at SnoopCity and said, "No, they haven't......yet! there was one other place I thought I could get what I came for. .....It was at CC's newly excavated shooting range, but I must have gotten there too late because you two were already gone." Snoopcity replied, "Oh thank God! Sylje, what would it take for you to stop going after the big gun?" I looked at SnoopCity and quickly turned once again to Spartacus and said........"Just give it me!"

Spartacus
September 30th, 2005, 06:29 PM
Happy came sauntering into the room, naked and in a slow sexy stride came over to Spartacus and Sylje. Her hair hung down covering most of her face and ended just above her nipples as her perfect breasts with larg upturned nipples bounced and jiggled with each step.

Happy approached them in the dim light and then opened her arms to hungrily embrace Sylje in a lustful decadent way. Spart could feel himself growing hard at the thought of the two women together. Sylje appeared to want Happy as much as Spart wanted both of them.

"This is getting interesting" Spart thought "But wait a second. This can't be. Happy's dead. Right?" Spart lightly placed his fingers under Happy's long blonde hair and gently pushed it off her face to reveal grotesque black empty holes where her eyes had been.

Spart awoke with a start. The dreams he had been having got stranger and more perverted the longer he was using the opium. "We got to get out of here" he mumbled to himself not wanting the others to hear.

Spart was pleased to notice that not only had the dream left him with a hard on, but he could actually feel it. Until now, the only thing he had felt below his waist in the last 10 days since the bird crashed was intense burning pain or total numbness -- Classic signs of a serious back injury. Spart knew at least one of his vertebrae was fractured. He could actually feel bone grinding against bone. But this morning's sensation of a hard on was the first positive sign he had had since the crash. They had been holed up in this cave for the last five days. He had spent those days lying still and smoking some of the opium and hashish they had taken off a small caravan of drug smugglers. The smugglers in this prt of the world made their livelyhoods supplying Europe's Heroin and Hashish habits with the only crops grown in the fields here on the high plateaus and muntain valleys in West Central Asia.

They hadn't wanted to kill the men in the caravan, They were escaping and evading here in Haji-land and on the run ever since the crash. They needed to keep a low profile if they were going to survive. Despite what Hollywood portrays, you don't do that by shooting up the enemy. It was what is known in military terms as a "meeting engagement" meaning the two groups just happened to bump into each other. It really wasn't much of an engagement though. Sure the drug runners were armed with Kalishnakovs and most no doubt were veterans of many years of fighting first the Soviets, then amongst themselves, and now amongst themselves and the Americans and their allies. But Spart, Fruity, Kevin, Clive and Chad were professionals, better armed and better trained. The 23 local tribesmen and foreign fighters guiding 32 donkeys through the mountain pass never had a chance. It was all over in less than a minute. The professionals' response was instant, automatic and violenetly overhelming-- the result of countless hours spent doing immediate action drills in preparation for unexpected events just like this. The brown men with black hair reacted with more bravery than any real practiced skill. Bravery is no substiute for training. Would Alah welcome them? Who really gave a sh&t? Team Apok 23. Bad guys 0.

The cargo the smugglers were hauling was worth several million dollars US. The team members though viewed it only as a little medicinal bonus. It had been two days since the crash, and the morphine Spart carried in his medic bag was packaged in autoinjectors that administered a pre-determined dose. A dose that would knock out a 200lb. man for 3-4 hours. He would never carry autoinjectors of morphne again Spart thought. They left no room for varying dosage aounts. Although he could medically justify giving it to any of the four members on the team - especially himself and Kev who had a compound fracture of his left forearm that was quickly trurning septic now despite the antibiotics Spart made him take every day-- tactically they could not afford it. They were on the run. Haji was on their tail.

Thy had found this cave five days ago by pure accident when Chad went to releve himself behind a boulder...and just in time. Fruit and Clive both had fractured ribs. They were all on their last legs. Chad only had a few bumps and bruises and was picking up everyone else's slack and was near the point of total physcal collapse carrying a rucksack that weighed 190 lbs plus his own weapon. They needed a place where they could rest, get out of the elements and hide safely while waiting for an allied aircraft to fly overhead so they could try raising it on the T-10 emergency radios they all carried. The two satelite phones they carried were damaged in the crash. Kevin had been trying to get one of them working ever since they had entered the safety of the cave. He had only a Gerber Leatherman tool -- the ubiquitous universal tool of every light fighter and spec ops operator. Kev was the team's comms man. But all his training had been with radios. It was not until he had signed on with the contracting company and been deployed here that a man named Padillamor, who spent 20 hours a day in a trailer somewhere in some secure base area hovering over several computer monitors while eating junk food all day in combat zone, handed hm two satelite phones and told him they would be usng these rather than the radios Kevin was trained on. The devices were entirely new to Kev and he felt uncomfortable about going into combat wth coms gear he could not take apart and put together again. You woldn't know he was stressed out by the wole situation. Holed up in a cave here in Indian Country with Haji combing the hills like opening day of deer season back home in Texas -- but instead of bucks Haji was hunting him and hs teammates. A useless busted foreamr on him and every member of the team except Chad banged up enough they should all be in hospital -- and their lives depending on him being able to fix two busted pieces of gear he had never seen until three weeks before. Kev had a strong faith in God that kept him calm when others would just collapse from the physical and mental stress. All he could do was all he could and that is what he was doing just then. "These are great guys. Couldn't be in a FUBAR situation like this with a better bunch," Spart thought. Kev looked up from the Sat phones and gave Spart a little "hi" sign with the Leatherman clutched in his one good right hand.

Through his pain and hazy, bleary, narcotic-dulled bloodshot eyes Spart silently acknowledged the greeting with his eyes.

"OK what will it be this morning? Hash or Opium?" Spart thought to himself. Wll he thought he only thought it...but did he actually just speak those words?

"Personally I recommend the blonde Afghani Hashish" Fruity said in his unmistakeable British accent. "Of course the black tar opium has a nice bouquet but I find its aftertaste is a bit much this early in the morning"

"So Fruity, what's on the training schedule for today?" Spart said as he held a hit of blonde Afghani Hashish in his lungs. The intoxicating smoke seemed to literally push the delitating pain out of his body.

OK..Fruity, Kevin, Clive, Chad somebody......

sylouette
October 3rd, 2005, 07:43 PM
Isn't anybody going to continue this story? We need an ending!!!! Come on Fruity, Kevin, Clive or Chad....get on the ball people!!!

Mr. Hyde
October 3rd, 2005, 09:45 PM
With a bloodied knife of unparalled fare, he entered Spart's hut with a six eyed vacant stare. The heads of Kev, and Clive and Chad, to Spart the sight was really bad. Rising from his seat with pipe, he glanced around with quite a gripe. No weapons here and no retreat. Would this be his great defeat? The heads they bounced, their bodies trounced, and the scene was looking grim.

But Spart was tough, aged and rough, and poised he was for the coming fight. The figure there with knife in hand, missed but Spart's fist connected. Land. The smack of skin and crunch of bone, a coffin would be the intruder's home. Standing over the limp man's body, Spart's muscles ached and he felt quite shoddy.

"How'd it happen?" was a question he'd pose. But with the new victim's face, an idea arose. The man he had killed was a man he had known. From back on the farm, fresh faced and home grown.

Whoever wants to can take it from there. Just don't let the story die.

Bf55
October 3rd, 2005, 10:12 PM
suddenly, the manliest yet kind voice said, wake up son, wake up son!!, b woke up back to his miserable existence, the trailer park smelled like shi* today, or in other words, it was smelling normal. He looked outside and saw his dogs, the only thing left to live for, this is why he was sad, well there was one thing coming soon the facist banquet, He didnt really hate the races but the bad mouthing and brotherism made him feel less rageful inside, and the other facists were like his family he didnt have. let the ni**ers have there gangs he had his own gang, besides they had the rite to peacfully assemble and it's not like they were linching like their (figurativley) cousins the kkk did in the 60's, and besides his mother was young if she hadnt have died he'd have been somewhere better, thats another reason his racism was ok sadly and with tears in his eyes he remebered the nite his mother died..........

PerVirtuous
October 4th, 2005, 02:35 AM
Slowly, a round face with dark hair came into focus. Xanadu looked and looked.

"That was quite a spill, are you alright?"

"All that was a hallucenation?" He muttered to himself. "Yeah. I'm alright."

He stood up and walked around a bit. He was sore and had a few scrapes, but all in all was not seriously injured. He looked at his crumpled and twisted bike, and tears came to his eyes. Syl was so relieved that she let out a huge sigh. She couldn't bear to see him cry, so she turned and watched down the path. There was the blonde woman following the funny man. She looked like a dog on the scent of a squirrell.

About a hundred yards down the path the man turned off the path into some trees. The blonde began trotting, her legs unable to stretch very far in her tight, tight jeans. In a few seconds she also disappeared off the path.

Happy Lady saw the man sauntering through the trees as if in a trance. In one little clearing he began turning little circles and looking at the ground. He reminded her of a dog about to take a dump. Suddenly he stopped and dragd his foot along the ground. Then he dissappeared behind a large tree. Syl jogged down the path. She had become very curious. Why was the blonde following the man with the funny name tag? She turned off the path and saw the blonde standing in a little clearing ahead staring at the ground. Just then the man popped out from behind a tree and pointed at the ground.

"Don't cross that line unless you are ready for the consequences."

HappyLady laughed. She knew melodrama when she heard it. She stuck her foot out, smiled and crossed the line. The man smiled broadly and stuck his arms out as if to embrace a lover. The blonde thought she had mesmerized the man. She stuck her arms out to hug the man. They embraced and she went to kiss him. He turned his face and she cought air. He reached around her and made a funny shape with his left hand, then put four fingers onto her spine and jerkked hard. HappyLady let out a gasp of air and went limp. He curled an arm under her armpits and supported her. She looked like a drunk on the verge of passing out.

Syl stood at a line on the ground. She watched the man turn and point at the line. He shook his head as if to say, "No." Syl was not listening. She was so curious that she stepped across the line to look at the blonde's face. As she did, the man extended a hand and smiled broadly at her. She reached out and took his hand in hers. He pulled it up like a dancer twirling his lady. Her feet seemed to know what to do. The twirled and found herself bumpping up against the man. He shifted the limp woman in his arms and wrapped his left arm around Syl. He made a funny shape with his fingers and put them on her spine. Snap! She went limp in his other arm. He began shaking HappyLady and she looked up at him.

"Where have you been?" She smiled. "I was beginning to lose it."

"No you weren't. You were fine." He turned and looked into some nearby bushes. "Hold her for me." He shifted the weight of the Syl so that HappyLady was holding her upright. Then he bent down and began gathering acorns.

Syl could feel warm arms around her. It was so peaceful and loving. Her breathing was so deep and full. She felt in awe of the world like a child. She lifted her head and saw a man gathering acorns. He stood up abruptly and began hurling them at some bushes.

Thewwwww. Thewwwww. Thewwwww. The acorns flew through the air. 'Oww." came from the bushes. A man named namblarson came out of the bushes holding his jaw. When he saw people looking at him, he began to run. Thewwww, thewwww. Two more acorns zing into the bushes. "Arggh!" A boy named biff scrmbles out of the bushes and runs off.

The man looks over at the two women wh seem locked in gaze, their eyes drinking the essence of their counterpart. They looked peaceful and Happy. He felt guilty that he would soon send them back to their own worlds and they would sadly only remember this happening during their dreams. The best of them could come out at any time if they knew how to reach it. They simply were not in a place to do so alone yet. He studied the dark haired woman. Such potential. This was long enough.

He walked over and put his hands behind their necks. He grabbed and gave a shake. Suddenly two women were standing in one another's arms, shocked as to how they got there. They giggled nervously. They turned adn watched as the funny man walked away from them towards the path. They had no idea who he was.

HappyLady turned to Syl and said...

HappyLady
October 4th, 2005, 01:52 PM
"Check out my dork brace. That's what I get for wearing heels in the park." (Hehehe.)

I will continue the story. I'll write something either tonight or tomorrow.

HappyLady
October 4th, 2005, 07:53 PM
HappyLady turned to Syl and said...

"For a man who claims he doesn't lick asses, his breath sure smells like he does. Was it just me, or did his breath REEK of ass?"

Syl's nervous giggle turned to a full belly laugh and she said, "No...you're right. Maybe that's why he didn't want us to cross that line. He knew he'd be found out." Happylady returned the full belly laugh and the women stood laughing themselves to tears. Just when they each thought they had control of it, the silly thought of a funny man with ass breath just revved them up all over again. They stayed in the moment a long time to the point that they forgot what they were even laughing about...or whom.

HappyLady was glad she got Syl to laugh. That's what she always did when she was nervous. At least with women. Say something witty and everyone will forget they are nervous. With men, she did a different thing when she was nervous. She shifted herself in one of two ways. One way, she would tell the man to bug off with only one look and one turn of her shoulder. Not a bold statement. Just something subtle to let her know she wasn't interested. The other thing she did when a man made her nervous was to make direct eye contact to pull him into her for just a brief moment. In the moment, she knew what they saw, so she knew she'd have no reason to be nervous anymore.

It didn't work so well with women, though. When women made her nervous, the usual tricks just weren't enough. So she helped them to laugh. Just long enough until she felt like she was ready to deliver. After Syl and Happylady had been lost in the moment for so long, HappyLady almost forgot that she and Syl had not known each other directly. She felt like she knew her for a very long time. And indirectly, she did. "Enough laughing," Happy thought. It's time to deliver.

As she looked Syl over, she wanted to be angry with her, she wanted to yell at her and make her feel small. But they were still standing in an almost embrace and Happy could feel the warmth coming from Syl. And suddenly, Happy wasn't angry anymore.

"Syl, right?"

"Yes...we met on the park bench."

"No, Syl...we met before that."

"No we didn't. I'm sorry. You must have me mistaken for someone else."

"No, Syl...I know who you are. What brought you to the park today?"

Syl stuttered a little, "I-I wanted fresh air just like all the other people who are here."

"Then why were you following me, Syl?"

Syl was running out of convincing things to say. So she stayed quiet to see where Happylady was going with this.

"Did you bump into my ex-husband while you were in the park," Happy inquired.

"Really, I don't know..."

"Save it, Syl," Happy said with the peace of the previous moments still flowing through her veins. "It doesn't matter. Remember a couple months ago, when you called, when he was still my husband, and I answered. You weren't expecting that were you. Me to answer."

Syl stood wide-eyed. It wasn't disbelief that she had been found out, but rather disbelief that any woman would be brave enough to confront her about it.

"Happy, I swear I didn't know he was married. When I met him...there was no ring, he said he was single. Once I found out...I just...I swear...I'd never be with him again. But...he just...had a hold, you know." Her voice was frantic and riddled with guilt.

"I know, Syl. Now listen to me. I don't blame you for what happened. That is the kind of man he WASN'T. He was a pig. I don't blame him either. You are a beautiful woman. I don't mean that I don't blame him because you were just too irresistible. I mean, I don't blame him because for a man like him to cheat on a woman like me...well...there's just something wrong with him in the head. I'm over it."

Syl didn't know what to say as she felt the guilt that she didn't own lift off her. But she wanted to make sure Happylady understood that she was just a victim in her ex-husband's twisted web as much as anyone was. "Really, Happy. I am sorry. If I would have known he had a wife...and those beautiful children...I never would have. I wouldn't." She welled up with tears at the thought that she somehow had a part in it all. Happy's eyes filled with tears, too. Not because she lost everything she lost, but because she wanted to take that pain away from Syl. Happy knew the hold he had over Syl, because he held it over her once, too. She had been where Syl was at that moment. But she had moved past it, and Syl still hadn't. So Happy felt the same emptiness that Syl felt and she wanted to fill it up for her. But she knew she really couldn't.

Happy and Syl were still just barely touching each other's arms. Happy reached her arms around Syl and hugged her. Syl hugged her back. Their whole bodies were pressed up against each other and their shoulders were wet with the other's tears.

In that moment, their tears changed from tears of sadness to tears of joy as they both realized not what they lost, but what they both gained. They pulled back from the embrace, looked each other in the eyes, smiled and breathed a deep breath as if a weight had lifted from both of them. The moment was interrupted by HappyLady's cell phone ringing. She struggled to reach into her skin tight pocket. Her fingers hurt as the outside lining of the pocket scraped them. "Damn jeans..." she said as the cell was going on the third ring. Syl laughed and said, "Yeah...worth every breath you struggle to take, though."

Happylady got her phone out of her pocket just before it switched to voicemail. She put her arm around Syl. They started strolling to no particular place when Happy answered the phone, "Tink! Hey chica!"

Tink was looking for an update. "You hung up so suddenly! I was worried." Happy assured her, "No Tink. I'm fine. I'll fill you in tonight. Hey...do you mind if I bring someone along tonight? I think you'll like her." And Tink answered,....

CC
October 7th, 2005, 12:36 PM
calling Tink.....or I'll write again when I have more time........:O)

Snoop
October 7th, 2005, 12:49 PM
Tink needs time to think. I hope she finds a way to work the chess match into the story ..

HappyLady
October 7th, 2005, 01:28 PM
calling Tink.....or I'll write again when I have more time........:O)

Well...CC...I wanted to hand the story off to you, since you started this great thread and haven't had the opportunity to make a second contribution yet...but I had too hard of a time working you in...unless you wanted ass breath, too. ;)

CC
October 8th, 2005, 02:00 PM
Hey happy. actually I am enjoying the way the story is morphing between fantasy and reality.............:O)

CC
October 9th, 2005, 10:40 AM
Tink was about to answer but did not. Instead the phone was cut off. Tink was not to be found ever again. Her disappearence is as confusing as it is unbelievable. The lovely Tinkerbell? Gone? No one would say yes but "no" showed in evereyone's eyes. Moo had already been extinguished by the bullet from no where. Spart stared around the group through THC laced eyes. He was smiling. PV was massaging his throat, happy and syl were embraced as if they were one. Hyde looked blankly all around, no words fell from his moving lips.
Suddenly the room and the sky outside erupted with the largest natural light show ever. Stars began streaking across the skys, colliding into another with a big flash. Trees began falling like limp spaghetti. The earth began to vibrate. It was dark then light again, as if the sun was at battle with the multitude of other suns in the galaxy. Suddenly PV noticed that Mars was nearly as close to earth as the moon. Suddenly one of Mar's moons colliding with earth's moon and both exploded into a cosmic fusion of sparkling dust and acrid smoke. Then the weather began oscilating, cold, hot, cold, hot. Nothing was explainable. Was it the end of time?
Suddenly all atheistic beliefs and religious beliefs vanished as if a cosmic magician was tricking all to believe something all together different than all had previously believed.
Happy Lady wished for her family only to realize that all others aside from those in attendance were also vanquished from the earth.
Syl looked at Happy lady as she too, realized what was happening. No one was fearful, no one was sad. The events occuring were so enormous as to wipe the mind of any other thought. Mars was now close enough to earth to make it appear as though it was directly aligned for a collision with earth.

Slip was running in circles agonizing over what had become a very real sureal world. F&N, ever the staunch one, was looking around as if he were trying to find a lost contact lens. Snoop was jumping for joy though slip did not know why. Nanderson was fading away like newspaper print left in the water, becoming invisable to the rest. BF55 was running around also, but he was jumping up and down in total awe of what was happening.
Then, just as suddenly as it had started, the trees righted themselves, the sun shown warm and bright, having won it's battle with all the other suns.
We all sat stunned. From Spart to CC, there were no longer any differences in their beliefs. To a one, everybody in the crowd was suddenly enlightened as to the makings of the universe and space and time. CC asked Spart for a toke off the pipe he held. Spart replied that CC should simply use his own. CC was astonished to suddenly realize there was a bong in his hand and a lighter in the other.
Somehow the survivors were filled with the knowledge that time had started over. They were the only ones left to steward the earth and to begin repopulating it.
Syl and happy lady both rushed to Spart, staking their claim to his gene pool. CC found that he could stand and walk again. He hit the bong and hit it hard. The pain CC had lived with for ten years evaporated as though it had never been. Spart felt the numbness that had replaced pain regained feeling but was also pain-free.
We all stood there in awe. Though we all understood that we had all just lost our families and anyone else we ever knew we also understood the gravity of our purpose.
Suddenly, in this group of independent thinkers, they all thought as one. There was no god. There was no heaven, no hell, only them. All other matters drooped in light of what had just happened.
They all knew without going anywhere that all the greatest of cities in the world were now nothing but ghost towns, the denizen's of each had vanished just as nandy had.
Spart appointed himself the leader. He after all have two women to begin repopulating the world with. He ordered that they all go find the nearest city and begin new lives there.
But CC was adamant in his refusal to return to any city. Instead he stood up. Once again relishing the fact that his body was once again as whole and as strong as they had ever been. "Not me" he said firmly but unchallengingly. "I'm heading for the rockies. I have always thought I was born 500 years too late. Now that I have the chance to live in a time I always wanted that's exactly what I will do."
PV stood up, clearling his throat. "I'm with Spart." He said it in a way that belied his belief that CC was an idiot.
Then, one by one each of them stood and announced that they placed their trust in spart to start a brave new world than they did CC.
But there was no animosity between spart and CC. They each knew they were qualified. They both knew that nothing they could do or say would change any minds. They firmly shook hands, the respect for each other obvious in their eyes.
CC could feel Spart's question before it came and replied, "No Spart, I can't force myself to return to civilization when the wilderness is what I know. You know city life very well. I know the wilds very well. It is time for us, both men of war and peace, to go our seperate ways."
The entire group suddenly began walking in one direction as CC walked in the other. There were no goodbyes. No pleading for anyone to change CC's mind or their own.
After about ten minutes CC could no longer see the rest of mankind as they made their way down a fractured highway. CC continued through the desert. Would he ever see them or anyone else again? He did not know. Nor did it bother him. The mountains, the trees, the streams and wild animals had been the source of CC's enlightment so now CC knew that he must return to his place of solace. There was no loniless for CC because he viewed the earth as his mother and all other things under his care. He believed that indeed Spart and the others would begin a new world, a better world. As for CC's world, he knew it lie among the highest peaks along with the wolves, eagles and bears that he cared so much about.
About twenty minutes later, (though elapsed time had seem to stand still) he heard a panting voice behind him calling for him to wait.
He turned to see BF55 running his way. CC waited.
BF55 caught up and CC stood silent as he waited for BF55's breath to catch up with him. Once it did BF55 took a toke from the bong that Spart had made appear in CC's hands. He coughed and gagged as the weed was stronger than either of them had ever had.
"Small hits" CC smiled. "So what's wrong? Why are you not with the others?"
Bf55 took just a nip of a hit from the bong, his eyes shot with blood.
"I'm going with you if you don't mind."
"Oh I don't mind," CC said. Heck I need help in keeping the wilderness wild." But what changed your mind?"
BF55 coughed up what smoke was in his lungs and said, "hmn.. let's think about wat the **** was just said!
They left, happy in each others company though CC was old enough to be BF55's father they both seemed to be on equal footing. Would they ever find anyone else? Would they ever see the rest of their group? Only time will or can know the answer to that.....................:O)

Xanadu Moo
October 11th, 2005, 12:48 PM
CC lived out his days in the Rockies, communing with nature and trying desperately to ditch bf55, who in his spare time had started a cult of nomadic paleontologists. One day, bf55 (which stands for "bf55") set an entire mountainside aflame with a lighter and some aerosol cans. He claimed it was an accident, however 384 aerosol cans were found strewn about within a 5-mile radius. He was to be sentenced to three years in prison, except that there were no police and no legal system, which got him off on a technicality. CC eventually decided to change his own name to Charlie Chaplin (no relation to Scott Joplin), citing the cane he was given by bf55 at his 80th birthday party as his inspiration.

Tinkerbell became a legend that was told throughout generations. Eventually, she reached the stratus of possessing magical qualities. Stories were told of a seductress who titillated her victims with pixie dust, and once this happened, they were in her power. Her modus operandi was to shrink herself so she could fit through a keyhole into the room of her next conquest, and then appear in all her glory. A true dust queen in every sense. Tink was said throughout the land to have been given wings by the gods, she was so highly regarded.

HappyLady started the Church of Tinkerbell, revolving around an ancient ritual of virgin sacrifice since the harlots were in such high demand. Hap became prophetess and prime seductress. This religion splintered out into the Church of Kinkerbell, the Church of the One Night Stand, and the wholly unrecognized Seventh Day Adulterers. The one common thread in each was the explicit invitation of temptation into their lives in order to fully appreciate its intricasies. The church proper's objectives included the conversion of every monk in the land, and they were quite successful. This also served to deplete the membership of competing religions, thus vaulting the Tinkerbell faith to Biblical proportions. Baptisms were prevalent throughout the land, with bath house shrines erected everywhere in honor of the revered Tinkerbell. Members volunteered to be born again and again and again.

PerVirtuous -- he went back to his home planet of Kolob, from where he found it was safer to observe his creations. Since hardly anyone believed in him, he figured there was no sense hanging around planet Earth much longer. His favorite pastime became the smite, which he carried out with reckless abandon, and often with great satisfaction.

Snoop started a ring of organized crime, which he successfully combined with youth soccer leagues -- that is, until the Church of Tinkerbell infiltrated it and had converted all the soccer moms. But Snoop persevered, personally bussing the children to their games while simultaneously masterminding racketeering schemes.

Syl and Mr. Hyde had gotten married years ago, and had sailed eastward never to be heard from again. Rumor had it that they had started a new colony in Antarctica. Syl called it the new world, though Hyde had been dubious, leery of their true navigational abilities.

Spartacus was one of the few remaining believers, and he grew weary of the ills of society. He wanted to join a monastery, but even those weren't immune anymore. He spent the rest of his days in virtual exile. On his deathbed, as a final protest against the decadence of the world, he shot nanderthal and then quickly repented just before taking his last breath. PerVirtuous then brought Spartacus into his kingdom, where all was glorious to behold. Spartacus experienced a peace he had only felt glimpses of before. PerVirtuous looked him in the eye and said, "Well, bud, looks like you and I are going to get to know each other pretty well, beings that no one else has bothered to show up, and it doesn't look like we'll have any more good candidates for a while...."

Xanadu Moo
October 18th, 2005, 05:03 PM
On another episodic inclement of days, the maiden turned reluctantly to her intermediate affection artist with the deepest of searing glances and stared for moments on end, bequeathing all sense of masquerading for the lack of a paltry introspective felicity that would permit such a contrivance, making her feel as though what formerly posed as a grandiloquent potpourri of mystical emotions had since turned into a rankled litany of furtiveness from which no single shred of humanity had been acknowledged to render, nor had any dared commit to, for once in such intensified clutches the woeful wills of an overly cantankerous aura relented to the more puerile sector, culminating in frivolous mirth heretofore uncovered via yon enraptured angst, mitigating the heartfelt for the imminence of a rapscallion curiosity at best, a mark left so indelible as to wring the inner sanctum with fervent clarity impervious to convoluted absorption while short-shrifted on hegemony in a fortuitous display of lethargic palpitations worthy of unadulterated catharsis to the optimum level, for which she languished amidst a backdrop of serpentine malfeasance beyond the reaches of literal serendipity without recompense for ageless self-governance, gently floating into the frothing briny of malice unto a mock haven foretelling the densest of fortifications as has been absconded to during erstwhile specimens of confluence, to pontificate breathlessly ad nauseum, to regenerate a glittered past now belonging stealthily in the servitude of portentous influx, and thus she ingratiates her churned reserve as a niggling respite of sorts, stolid practitioner of firm egocentric folly, her sinewy shadow at once swathing a smooth glide into the fecund rest of catatonic walls, and her hypnotic crescendo of mellifluous, iconoclastic recidivism juxtaposes the hint of anathema from her cryptic yet recondite abyss, ever truculent in her ways to exacerbate an agenda so engrossed in fraternal longings that one would someday emphatically recant without cause for enlightened mass euphoria, ameliorated only by jettisoned parsimony indigenous to the unfettered climactic improvisation of complicit and utter apoplectic pandemonium which permeates all she knows … whereby hers is an unending beginning into the inverted procession of lackluster dimensions, a quintessential entanglement methodically fortified sans the providential vicissitudes of cognizant earthly hinges.

PerVirtuous
October 18th, 2005, 05:03 PM
Sylvia took the ligter from the man in the wheelchair. She knew what to do. This had been a fun fantasy for a time, but no longer. She took all the words and the paper they were written on and set them afire. The squirrells, children, hippies, and all the other park users watched in amazement as their entire world simply vanished in a puff of smoke. End of story.

KB wrote an epilogue: "I knew it would end this way. Just like S & G. It was ordained."