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  • “Tina, I did not say that huffily!” Becky retorted. ... · ID #2312 (continued)
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  • #5798

    In reply to: Tart Wreck Repackage

    “Well one of you isn’t going either!” Rosamund shouted through the door, as Tara and Star headed out. “One of you better get back in here to hold the fort. Mum’s been on the phone, says she’s packing her bags for sure this time. It’s not just Auntie Joanie coming, Auntie April’s on her way too! I gotta go and calm her down.”

    “This is not the most salubrious start for a new employee,” muttered Star.

    “We can’t afford anyone else yet!” Tara whispered back.

    “You stay and hold the fort then. I’ll go and see to Vince,” Star replied.  “Might get more out of him if only one of us goes, know what I mean?” she said with a lewd wink.  “Here’s my password to the cult forum. See what you can find out. And don’t start making daft comments on there!  Neutral observations only!”

    “Rosamund,” Tara said sternly, “You have two days leave of absence only, I expect you back here on Friday.”

    #5797

    “This is the life, eh!” June said, stretching out on the sun lounger sipping a fruity cocktail. “Turquoise sea and a salty breeze, this is the life for me!” she said, kicking off her new deck shoes in nautical blue and white, and hitching her dress hem up to expose her thighs to the sun.

    The skipper raised an eyebrow and smiled sardonically, while simultaneously averting his eyes from the unappetizing sight of the doughy flesh. He could imagine this one rolling around below decks looking green as soon as the weather changed.

    “Sure beats that jail. That had me worried, I’ll admit it. I wasn’t sure we were ever gonna make it outta there,” replied April, smiling fondly at Ella Marie and giving her hand an affectionate squeeze.  “You saved our bacon, honey.”

    “If it weren’t for that there Lord Wrick turning up, even the money might not have got you out.” Arthur chimed in.  “Promising ole president Lump that land for the golf course if’n he pardoned you.  Jacqui, you done wonders there.”

    “Ah well, the young Lord Wrick owed me a favour, you might say. But that’s another story,” Jacqui replied. “The main thing was we had to get out of the country fast before Lump finds out about that land in Scotland.”

    June sniggered. “Can’t imagine him in a kilt, can you? I wonder if he’s orange down there as well.”

    “Oh, please! You really know how to lower the tone, dontcha? Gawd, what a thought!” April started to feel queasy.  Changing the subject, she said, “Hey, did I tell you our Joanie’s going to meet us in Australia too?”

    #5790

    In reply to: Tart Wreck Repackage

    “Rosamund’s Aunt Joanie is a vegan anti-vaxxer,” said Tara, frowning at the large piece of pizza being shovelled into Rosamund’s mouth.

    “That’s right,” Rosamund nodded enthusiastically. “Anti-vegan vaxxer and she don’t eat nothing with no eyes either. She drives Mum bloody mental going on about how the animals have got souls while Mum’s trying to enjoy a nice baccy fry up. Mum calls her Aunt Moanie.”

    Tara shuddered and turned her attention firmly to the laptop. “This is very strange,” she muttered. “Star, what exactly do we know about Mr Vince French?”

    Star smirked. “Other than his obvious attributes?”

    “Which are?” Tara’s voice was sharp and Star sighed. Tara could be a mardy cow sometimes.

    “You mean the fella with the voice like a bloody angel?” asked Rosamund, spitting an olive onto Tara’s sleeve. Tara swore under her breath as the olive bounced to the floor. Fortunately there was no mark; it was a new blouse and had cost Tara an arm and a leg. Worth the investment, she had reasoned at the time. One must look the part. And clearly, her Moulin Rouge ensemble wasn’t a good look for a Professional Investigator, even with fishnets and a feather boa.

    “He cancelled his appointment but he paid the, quite frankly exorbitant, deposit we asked for,” said Star. “He’s going to email us the rest of the details. Do we need to know more that that?”

    “Well, I’ve been doing a search and there is nothing anywhere online about him, or his world famous melodious voice. I suggest we pay this Mr French a visit.”

    “Oh bloody awesome!” Rosamund leapt to her feet and pizza boxes went flying. “Oops, sorry about that. I’ll clean it soon as we get back.”

    “You’re not coming!” shouted Tara and Star simultaneously.

    #5788

    The first thing the dwarf did was a finger of honor. “Take that darn blubbit queen!” he shouted before he crumbled butt naked down on the wooden floor surrounded by his former golden carapace. His skin was still glowing with a strange lucent light.

    “What did he say?” asked Fox.

    “What’s a blubbit?” asked Olliver.

    Glynis put her hands on the baby snoots eyes, but there were too many of them and she only had two hands.

    “Have you seen his skin?” asked Eleri.

    “Well yes, he’s butt naked,” said Kumihimo.

    Gorrash had had time to clear his mind and started to realise they were all looking at him.

    “I mean, he HAS a skin now,” insisted Eleri. “Smooth and… all that comes with it. Not his former rocky mossy textured whatever it was before even after daylight.”

    The dwarf who never had to worry about his own modesty before couldn’t quite grasp the meaning of that simple fact. “Am I still dreaming?” His stomach growled and he looked surprised at his belly. “Am I starving?” Fox laughed.

    Glynis brought the dwarf a blanket, and he marvelled at the roughness of it on his new skin. They all started to talk at the same time, wanting to know about the blubbits, about the new skin, asking Kumihimo and Rukshan how it was possible.

    “I don’t know,” they both said.

    “Well! I don’t know about you, but now that he has skin he can certainly appreciate some champagne with us!” said Margoritt, trotting to the kitchen. She came back with a bottle and a sabre. “Who wants to crack it open?”

    “Don’t forget the food,” said Glynis. “It’ll be his first time eating.” Olliver brought some leftovers of Jambalaya, salad and cheese among other things.

    “How can he eat so much?” would ask Eleri later.

    #5783

    “How in tarnation did ya do that?” Arthur looked at his wife suspiciously.

    “Do what, honey?” Ella Marie replied, feigning innocence.

    “This here lottery win! How did you do that? You aint been doing them there voodoo tricks again, have you? You promised…”

    “Oh heck Art, it’s pure chance,  a million to one, you know that! We just got lucky, is all.”  But she couldn’t meet his eye.  “Well I had to do somethin’! It aint for us, it’s for those friends of Jacqui’s. When I heard they’d been locked up in jail on cooked up charges, after being so excited about visiting the family, well I couldn’t bear it.”

    “You promised you wasn’t gonna do that hokey pokey stuff no more,” Arthur said.

    “Yes but it aint for us. This is different, just a one time thing, helping out friends.  We can pay the bail money for ’em now and get ’em outta that stinking hellpit.  Aint no place for decent ladies, Art.”

    “They’ll need some darned expensive lawyers to fight the Beige House, and fat chance of winning.” Art looked doubtful.

    “Oh they won’t stick around to fight the case. I had this idea,” Ella Marie had that old twinkle in her eye that used to get Art all fired up, back in the day. “We’re gonna buy them a boat. I been talking to Jacqui ’bout it. An old flame of hers turned up who can sail the boat for them.”

    “How big’s the boat?” asked Art, an idea brewing in his head. He’d always wanted to sail around the world.

    “Well we aint bought the boat yet, Art, the lottery check only just arrived.  How ’bout we go down to Orange Beach Marina and see what’s for sale? We could have a seafood lunch, make a day of it.”

    A big smile spread across the old mans face. ” Well, hell, Ella Marie, I guess we can do whatever we darn well please now!  Let’s do it! And,” he added, planting a loud smackeroo of a kiss on her forehead, “Let’s get a boat big enough for all of us.   I’ve got an adventure in me, afore I pop my clogs, I sure do.”

    #5761

    “Curiouser and curiouser” said Blithe after Hilda and Ric’s call led the improvised investigation to the doors of the Beige House. “It’s like those huge bills, I tend to find myself at the places I hate the most.”

    The clue trails were solid. Track marks led to the Carpet cleaning business, and by following the plates of the van, and interrogating the suspicious yet gossipy neighbours (once she produced her P.I. badge), it was just a matter of time before they tracked the van’s whereabouts into Washingtown.

    “I wonder what business they could have had there…”

    Ricardo was doing his part too, tracking the social media feeds for anything hashtagged. Difficult to sort through, yet something came up.

    “Hilda, what do you think?” he showed the distracted journalist his finding. “Two au pairs arrested for credit fraud and a French maid wanted in relation with illegal immigration & anchor baby case.”

    “I’m not sure, usually I would have jumped at the occasion…” Hilda was showing unusual restraint. Maybe the perspective of US prisons…

    Thankfully Blithe Gambol raised to the challenge. “Of course, we must check that out. Can’t be a coincidence. Just… Remind me what the case was already?”

    #5751

    “Why are you looking guilty?”  It was impossible for Godfrey to hide anything from Liz. She noticed at once the nervous tic in his left eye, and the way he was shuffling his feet around.  He was clearly rattled about something.

    “I’ve g g g ot a confession to m m make,” he stuttered. Liz had never heard Godfrey stutter before, and it was unheard of for him to make confessions.  Something was troubling her old friend greatly, and she was concerned.

    Liz sighed.  If only Finnley were here.  God knows where she was, gallivanting around and leaving Liz to deal with a demented Godfrey on her own, when she had so much writing to do.

    Moving the bowl of peanuts out of Godfrey’s reach, in case he choked on them in his stuttering condition, Liz gently suggested that he spill the beans and tell her all about it.

    “I put two of your characters in jail.”

    Liz gasped and her hand flew to her mouth.

    “And now,” Godfrey’s voice caught on a little sob,  “And now, I have to pay the bail money to get them out.”

    “Why not just get Mr August to talk Mellie Noma into paying it? She got the kid back ~ mysteriously, I must say, quite a gap in the tale there..”

    “Well it’s your book, so it’s your gap,” Godfrey retorted, reverting back to his old self.

    “Then what were you doing in it, putting my characters in jail?” Liz snapped back. “Go and get that bail paid so they can go to Australia. Otherwise you’re going to muck up another book.”

    #5750

    “I thought you said we were going to Australia,  April? This doesn’t look like Australia to me,” she said casting a despondent eye around the dismal cell. “Why do they always paint them grey?”

    “To make you suffer. You’re not supposed to enjoy it.”

    “Barbaric,” sniffed June. “And inefficient. I refuse to be rehabilitated unless they improve the accommodation.”

    “Fat chance of that” April snorted. “We’ll be sewing mailbags or being a guinea pig for the latest bolonavirus vaccine.”

    “What? No art classes and gym and choice of menu?” June was aghast. “You had better get us out of here! That latest scam was all your idea, anyway.”

    “Actually, no, it wasn’t.  It was that guy, what was his name? Godfrey? The one that comes to see Mr August sometimes. I was in the elevator with him one day and right out of the blue, I mean, I don’t know him personally, but he planted all these crazy ideas in my head telling me about how fool proof this credit card trick was…”

    “He can pay the bail money then.”

    “Now there’s an idea.”

    #5747
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      “Where the devil is Finnley, have you seen the state of my desk?”

      #5742

      The clay mixture was giving off a golden hue. Everyone had gathered to look at the miracle happen, especially the two kids and their Snootish pets.

      “I think there’s a word in the old language for what we are,” mentioned Glynis feeling that pregnant silence was too dangerously promising of unsilent babies. She was looking fondly at the odd looking family. “Tūrangawaewae. They are places where we feel especially empowered and connected. They are our foundation, our place in the world, our home.”

      Eleri whistled a tentative “whoohoo to that!” but she was starting to get inebriated with the fermented goat milk, and was wondering what it was all about.

      “We’re reviving Gorrash!” the kids Tak and Nesy were chanting, like a sort of strange memory spell for her.

      “I got news from Mr Minn,” Glynis said “Margoritt is going to be back for a few days. She said she wanted to write a novel about weaving clay and had to gather some proper material.”

      “Good for her,” said Eleri “although I wished you’d kept some of that magical clay for me, had experiments to make on that. Could help in the great fires recovery process down under.”

      “As a matter of fact, there was some left that I kept for you.” said Glynis. “I’ll give it to you later, but for now, just shush, and let the process unravel, or we’ll never catch up.”

      Indeed, the protective golden carapace around Gorrash embued with rebuilding powers was finally starting to crack as the last ray of light of the day were vanishing behind the horizon.

      #5740

      Norma was taking the sheets for a clean when she ran into the tall black figure of Mr August in the neatly carpeted corridors that Finnley had got freshly cleaned. Those odd people from Alabama that had brought Barron back had been all too pleased to help with the carpet cleaning, gaining a contract with the Beige House rather than a one-time reward.

      Norma immediately started to blush like a teenybopper feeling silly hidden under the mass of untidy sheets. She dropped the heap at Mr August’s feet and fumbled around in utter confusion.

      August was a gentleman, and offered to help, while exchanging some innocent small talk. He was a married man after all. “Those carpets sure do look cleaner than they ever were.”

      “Yeah, that Finnley knows her bossing around business, that’s a fact.” reluctantly replied Norma, jealous that the conversation had to mention the other maid.

      “You look distressed Norma.” he paused looking genuinely concerned. “It’s nothing to do with the sacking of June & April, is it? Or is that the stress of all that sudden responsibility falling on your shoulder? Taking care of Mr. Barron and all?”

      “Oh yes, but no!” she immediately answered. “It was such an honor that Mistress Mellie Noma entrusted me with her child. The Lord will forgive me for speaking ill of them, but these two were not fit and proper to raise a child, with all that partying and …” she stopped thinking she sounded like a bitter spinster.

      “Amen.” smiled August. “Not to mention all the gossiping around.” he giggled.

      He rose from the floor and gave her back the folded sheet in a neat package.

      “Good luck with the kid. Now he’s back, there’s no telling what goes in this head of his. I still wonder how he managed to get on this little trip. I have to go, work to do before Pres. Lump is coming back from his impricotement hearings. Seems he won once again and will be here in no time.”

      #5739
      Jib
      Participant

        “Is that even the same character?” she wondered, “or a character so similar that it seem to be…”

        It was too metaphysical for her this early in the morning, as if she was herself different. Her hand reached out to the granola cookie box, half empty and full at the same time, she hesitated to change the balance. But her hunger needed to be balanced too, so she simply transferred the energy from one box to another, keeping the overall balance of the universe.

        “How gorgeous is the rising sun this morning,” she thought looking out her window. “I’m so glad I have a view.”

        Her unformed thoughts followed a string of clouds to a red hot air balloon.

        “I wonder if they have a dog?” she asked looking at Fabio. The pekingese barked. She found him so cutie pooh. She clapped her hands, talking gibberish. Fabio put his little legs on her bigger legs, ready to play. She didn’t mind looking foolish as long as she was having fun.

        #5738

        In reply to: Tart Wreck Repackage

        Star was perusing the messages in the cults online forum, having joined the private group under the name of Writhe Mamble.  It was time consuming, and a task that Star hoped to delegate to Rosamund.  But first she needed to familiarize herself with the angle of the dogma and the leanings of the various members, as well as the physical data: photos, location, age and other affiliations.

        Star had to keep reminding herself that it was of no importance whether or not she agreed with some of the messages, or strongly disagreed.  Never the less she found herself liking some of the members as she read more, as well as wanting to slap others.

        She made a note: remain neutral and remember why you are there.  Star couldn’t help wondering uneasily how Rosamund would be at remaining neutral.

        Maybe easier than you can manage it, said Granola, the voice appearing as if from nowhere.

        “Easier than I can manage what?” asked Rosamund, crashing into the room with an armful of pizza boxes. Without pausing for an answer, she continued, “Mum’s having a fit, I might have to have tomorrow off work to go and calm her down. She’s talking about locking the house up and moving in with me. I can’t have that, I got a bit of business going on at the flat, you know what I mean?” Rosumund wiped the tomato sauce off her mouth with her sleeve.

        “But why is she threatening to do that?” asked Star, who wasn’t the least bit interested.

        “Her sister’s on her way over.” Misinterpreting Star’s raised eyebrow, Rosamund added. “Oh yes. THAT sister.”

        #5737

        April knew better than to ask where June managed to teaf the money needed for the plane tickets. Nothing she could have scrapped from their meager wages.

        The loud voice got her all startled.

        “Not so fast Ladies. Hands in the air!”

        An officer in uniform was standing there, his service taser pointed at them like they were two dangerous criminals. He was flanked by a trenchcoat acolyte inspector whose tiny glasses were shining in the dark.

        “Damn it June,” whispered April “they’ve caught up with us with your shenanigans; did you steal credit cards again?…”

        “Shhtt! Don’t say anything. They look daft enough, let me do the talking.”

        “Mrs June, you’re under arrest for multiple accounts of credit fraud, as well as unlawful impersonation with the intent to commit fraud. You can remain silent. Anything you’ll say may be held against you…” The inspector was speaking like a robot.

        “STOP RIGHT THERE!” the officer shouted, “hands up or I shoot! Last warning!”

        June was undeterred; she had eluded the police forces for so long and in so many States, she felt invincible and started to voice confused explanations while moving her hands in a frantic fashion and trying to sweet talk the police force.

        She never saw the taser come.

        Between fuzzy moments of consciousness, she realised she was being cuffed, and her and April taken to the police station.

        #5736
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Shivering, the two women stood at the bus stop, suitcases standing beside them.

          “What are we going to do now, April?” June was finding the abrupt dismissal unsettling, annoying.  It wasn’t their fault the kid disappeared.  “Why on earth are you grinning like that?  Where are we going to go?”

          “We’re going to stay with my sister in Australia,” replied April with a happy sigh.

          “What, now? Are you mad? The place is a disaster zone!”

          “Can’t be any more of a disaster than the place we just got fired from.”

          June couldn’t argue with that. “Does she know we’re coming?”

          April shook her head. “Oh no, it’s going to be a surprise. Oh my, she’ll be surprised.”

          “Whereabouts in Australia?”

          “Melbourne.  Melbourne, here we come!”

          #5735
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            It was a rhetorical question, and Lucinda chose not to answer it, at least not out loud.  Although it was possible for a character to remove their attention from a story as long as the writer wasn’t writing about them,  as soon as the character was mentioned again, they would inevitably be required to participate. Or would they? wondered Lucinda. Who really knew?

            #5693
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Aunt Idle:

              What that kid didn’t realize was that the dog showed me where every single camera was. That dog’s always been scared of cameras, you can always tell when someone’s got their camera out by Dusty’s reaction. I can’t for the life of me work out why they were there, though.

              #5692
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                “Not so fast, Granola,” Lucinda spoke the words aloud. “One you are in a story, you can never leave. And not only that,” she continued ominously, “No story is ever finished. No thread is ever snapped.”

                #5677
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  “You’re back just in time for the fancy dress party, Finnley.  Roberto,” she gave him a piercing look as if to say don’t contradict me, “Roberto is going to come as Falla Partland, the well known writer of romances..”

                  Finnley snorted. “And what are you coming as? One of your long forgotten characters, a neglected thread jumper?  A fraught character left dangling on a cliff hanger for months on end?  A confused character, wondering what happened to linear time? A frantic character with the still undelivered urgent message?”

                  “No need to go on so, Finnley. Do try and get a grip. Roberto and I would like a bottle of something, see to it please.”

                  “I’ll come as a downtrodden but surprisingly resilient and mouthy subordinate character, who secretly rules the roost,” replied the recurring character with a characteristic smirk.

                  Roberto turned away to hide his smile, pretending to dust the giraffe bookends.  He had been lucky so far in his role as one of her characters.  He loved gardening, and had always had a weakness for pink.  It could be worse. Much worse.

                  #5676

                  Ella Marie looked at the peculiar child sitting on the car seat next to her.  This was no normal kid, she knew that much. Looked like one, except that expression on his face, well! That was no baby looking out of those eyes. And the thoughts she was hearing coming from him! Ella Marie shivered and gave him another sidelong glance. He caught her eye and winked. Winked!

                  “Well if this all aint the darnedest thing,” she said aloud.

                  Echoing her thoughts, Jacqui agreed. “In all my years as a nanny I’ve never seen a wee bairn like this.  He’s giving me the creeps.”

                  “Rude old bag,” thought the child,  his face reddening. “Take that,” as he filled his disposable diaper.

                  Ella Marie gasped, reading his mind.

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                Daily Random Quote

                • “Tina, I did not say that huffily!” Becky retorted. ... · ID #2312 (continued)
                  (next in 20h 45min…)

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