Search Results for 'bottle'

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  • #3635
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Aunt Idle:

      Trying to get a conversation out of Bert was like trying to prise a can of beans open with a nappy pin. If he’d been a bit more willing to discuss it with me I might have told him about the note, but I didn’t. I suppose he was disgruntled because I was more interested in that medical team buying up ghost towns than his bridge, so we sat in silence for the rest of the trip. Not that I wasn’t interested in the place on the other side of the river, but there was something very odd going on, and I couldn’t put my finger on it. That note, made from old maps at the Brundy place, then Flora’s card with the same name on ~ what the dickens was going on? Should I ask Flora point blank, or would that alert her that I was on to her? Might be better to be more subtle, see what I could find out before confronting her. I even thought of getting the remote view team to see if they could find anything out ~ although the results were so sketchy that might just be a wild goose chase, lead me off in the wrong direction.

      “Take the next left, Idle, down this here track,” Bert said.

      Miles away I was, so I didn’t hear him at first and had to slam the brakes on a bit sharpish. I caught Bert rolling his eyes at me and glared at him.

      The track hadn’t been driven on for months, if not years ~ that much was obvious. We bumped along kicking up a cloud of dust for a few miles before the river came into sight, then the track followed the river for another half a mile or so, eventually petering out.

      “We’ll have to walk from here,” said Bert, getting out of the car. I passed Bert the rucksack with the bottled water and locked the car. “You don’t need to lock the car here” Bert snorted.

      “Habit,” I snapped, “Lead the way.”

      #3633
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Arona Haki, have we any nappies? Or something to feed this thing? Baby formula and bottles, that sort of thing?” Liz asked.

        The old woman shrugged. “How would I know?”

        “Well you had better beetle off down to the shops then and buy whatever we need. I’ll hose it down on the patio.”

        Shocked, Arona Haki wondered whether it was her place to tell the new boss that wasn’t the way to treat a baby. “Miss Liz, I really don’t think…”

        “I don’t pay you to think!” Liz snapped, not that she meant it, but she felt the need to establish some respect, after the fiasco with the last staff.

        #3604
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          The blast ricocheted throughout the town. It set the dogs barking, chickens squalking and babies crying. Folks dropped what they were doing, in many cases literally: dishes and beer bottles crashed to the floor, as the towns people ran outside to find out what was going on, or ran for cover.

          Bert, sitting on top of Plater’s Rock watching it all, slapped his thigh, whooped and then laughed until the tears ran like rain season creeks through the desert dry creases of his face. The unaccustomed unbridled mirth provoked a coughing fit: Bert balled up the phlegm that rose in his throat and catapulted gobs of it towards the creek below.

          Well, that’s finally got that off my chest, he said to himself with another choking cackle.

          The creek itself after the explosion was obscured from his sight by a thick pall of smoke, but the sputum projectiles were aimed with deadly accuracy at the bridge ~ or where the bridge had been.

          There was no bridge there now though, not that anyone would have noticed its disappearance if he hadn’t made sure they did. Years he’d spent making that bridge, a bit at a time, with what he could find or chance upon, working on it as often as he had time for. He’d found what he could only describe as a “special place” over on the other side of the creek, it spoke to him and seemed to call on him to bring others. The only way to it from the town was to swim the creek, or drive almost 200 miles by road, via the closest bridge at Ninetown. So Bert decided to build a bridge across, so people could go back and forth with ease and enjoy the place on the other side.

          Bert had finished the bridge three years ago during the dry season, and invited everyone over upon it’s completion. Four people turned up, even though he’d set up a picnic and brought coolboxes of champagne and beer, and a big bag of weed. Less than a dozen people used Bert’s bridge in the first two years, and he was the only one to cross over since the last dry season.

          Finding the dynamite in the old mine shaft a few months back had given him the idea. An impulse had seized him after the unexpected encounter with Elizabeth. He blew the bridge up. It was over. He could breathe again.

          #3586
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Aunt Idle:

            Well I’m not one to complain, as you know, and I’m not the competitive sort at all, but I did have to raise an eyebrow when everyone agreed to Mater’s suggestion of getting some help with the cleaning. It’s a wonderful idea, but it wasn’t her idea, I’d been planting the seeds for ages. She never would have suggested if I’d carried on doing it all myself, I had to let it go a bit, get in a mess. When they started talking behind my back about me drinking, I played along with it, splashing gin on my hair and leaving an empty bottle laying around. I had to keep retrieving the same bottle from the bin, so I could pretend it was another bottle I’d drunk. They were all easily fooled, and I started to enjoy it.

            #3548
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              The knock on the bedroom door awakened Crispin Cornwall.
              “Yes? Who is it?”
              “It’s Clove, I’ve brought your supper, sir.”
              Crispin eased his limbs into action and shuffled over to the door. As soon as he’d been shown to his room in the early hours of the morning, he’s lain down on the bed and slept like a baby, not stirring until the knock on the door. It had been seventeen weeks since he’d last slept, not that he needed sleep in the usual sense, but sometimes even the Great Travelers needed a complete break with the physical. Dragon’s teeth, he said to himself, it made a body stiff though, all those hours of inactivity.
              “It’s beans on toast, Aunt Idle said you weren’t fussy,” the girl said, politely enough, though she looked him up and down. “The laundry and shower room is down the hall, thataway, sir.”
              Crispin took the plate off the girl, the corner of his lip curling up in amusement. “Look like I need a wash, do I?”
              “Sorry sir, didn’t mean to be rude, it’s just that most guests ask for a shower when they get here, dust on the road and all. Will there be anything else you want? Pot of tea? Bottle of wine?”
              But Crispin Cornwall had already closed the door. Clove heard the lock click. Rude filthy old fart, she thought to herself.

              #3418

              “What a…” King Artie almost lost his smile after being dumped by Arona on the edge of the cliff.
              Fear not, little chipmunk, I will have you soon wrapped around my finger…

              He looked inside his bag for the precious bottled elixir. He’d managed to steal it from the P’hope’s apothescary. Among a bizarre collection of dried insects, the P’hope had some vials of pure waterbee’s royal jelly mixed with p’hopolis.
              Collecting the essence of flowers from all over the kingdom and distilling the mass beliefs into this life-sustaining elixir, the waterbees royal jelly and p’hopolis had many properties, a bit like a wish-fulfilling gem in liquid form.
              He knew using it would probably trigger some false notes in the mass belief organ of the P’hope, risking alerting him, but he had no choice, the damsel was already getting out of view, and he couldn’t spend days crawling down the shaky beanstalk.

              “Who said we couldn’t grow wings” he said after a gulp of the precious potion. That was the magic formula he needed.

              The smile returned as wings started to sprout out of his back, and without a second’s hesitation, he followed the sexy flying squirrel in mouldy cloak-wings.

              #3411

              Singing Marlborough s’en va-t-en guerre in the shower, Adeline reached for the bottle of hair conditioner, a special concoction to combat brittleness and to boost strength and durability, according to the label. After liberally covering her long dry hair with the product, she noticed that something wasn’t quite right when she came to drying it with the hair dryer.
              “Oh no!” she exclaimed, dismayed. “I have accidentally used the resin from my 3D plastic printer.”
              One look in the mirror and she burst into tears.
              “I can’t teleport looking like this!”

              #3400

              If the sabulmantium was to be trusted, the beanstalk was a tangle of many paths, and the main and easiest accesses down its dangling twirly greenish tentacles were all outside of the city walls, in a zone where some lords managed to rule pockets of mass beliefs and a bunch of unattractive mongrel mobsters.

              “Sounds potential adventure material” Mandrake had had the nerve to say when they’d packed.
              “No it isn’t” Arona had said.
              Then with more gusto “NO IT ISN’T” as though to convince all the sleepy tarts of the nymphouse below her rented room.

              More doubts had sunken their claws in her tender heart, and a gulp of whatever astral cup didn’t seem in hindsight a worthy deal for all her troubles. Nonetheless, she was a woman of her word, which was probably why she wasn’t of many. Too much trouble being of all of them, whatever that meant.

              “Honestly Mandrake, keeping you on track is worse than herding… dragons.”
              She would have said sheep, but she wasn’t so rude yet. Mandrake could have taken that too badly, and he would again prove useful to distract the guards of the Southern Post. That’s where she decided to go, as with all the heat, it had to be the one less guarded.

              Indeed, when she arrived, as planned, the gate was badly manned, and sleepy soldiers where reaching for the rare spots of shadow.
              She decided to make a run for it. The soldiers didn’t look very fit. She started to go, thinking about zigzagging between the air bottles littering the plaza, when she felt a tug pulling her back by the cloak, almost sending her flying off her butt.

              FUCK!” she shouted as silently as she could. “You again! I thought I told you not to follow me! Mandrake, attack! Go for the balls!”

              She was in a fury, but Mandrake licked his paw with a disgusted look on his face that meant “Hnhn, not going for that, sweetie. You’re on you own to herd that dragon, my lovely pooh.”

              “Shhht!” the guy said with a bit smile.
              “Don’t shush me, you… ninnyhammer!”
              She didn’t know where the last word came from, but they sure felt good, although not quite rude enough.
              “Oh, the lady is a pirate who knows her insults.” he answered with his cocky smile.
              “Don’t mock me, you mooncalf”
              “You were trying to sneak out, were you?”
              “Why do you care, hobbledehoy?”
              “The guards have aircon chain-mail and armours, see, look at those bottles on their backs… How could you beat them running with your heavy cloak?”
              “Maybe Mr Snollygoster has a better suggestion?”
              “Of course I have, if you care to follow me, Ms Mumpsimus.”

              Arona was almost speechless. Not keen on following any stranger, she asked her guts, and they seemed to have a liking for the handsome fellow. It stirred old remembrance of going with the flow tactics, and when she did actually follow him, it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he and Mandrake were already ahead in one of the alleys.

              “Oh, no, let him have the keys to some secret tunnel, I won’t go for another sewer escape!”
              As if her guardien angel has heard her secret prayer, it happened that the stranger had some strange stone key in his bag, opening a secret wall entrance.

              “Oh.” was all she conceded to the stranger.
              Nonplussed he offered her his hand “George” he presented himself still with the same broad smile.
              She took his hand haughtily, and entered the vaulted tunnel, not telling him yet her name, in case she felt like choosing a sexy and mysterious code name. She could trust no one…

              “Traitor” she hissed at Mandrake who was purringly looking at the strangers’ boots.

              #3390

              The heat wave on Abalone was making everyone sweaty and grumpy. With the recent ban of fans, considered a sign of sedition by the P’hopery, wind retailers were thriving more than in the last series of years.

              Arona, whose hair had a tendency to curl when wet, had found that the only solution was the “Dry air out of an oven” bottle.
              Before the last gushes of air were out, she asked : “ Mandrake, would you like some air ?

              #3334

              “Hence the importance of complimenting a child on his first poops” were the concluding words of the lecture by Choanna Doyle, PhD, under a loud burst of applause.

              Sadie was pleased to have joined the Happiness Institute alumni’s yearly conference and was handling leaflets to the parents who were thinking about enrolling their children.

              When everyone had left the blue and purple amphitheatre, decorated with pink ribbons and heart-shaped reflective balloons, she went back behind the pulpit to gather her bag, only to be startled by Choanna, who was still here while she was expected in the main hall for her book signing.

              “Interesting lecture” Sadie said, as a way to sound polite, as the doctor was probably more used to, and expecting over the top fan reactions.

              “Oh, not that interesting, but thank you for your polite protestations of interest” she said with a soft smile.

              Sadie couldn’t help but blush, being at a loss for words.

              “The crap…” Choanna said
              “What?!” Sadie was confused
              “I guess, that’s the crap that got you off. It does the same for most people. The poop comment is actually quite pertinent.”
              “I don’t doubt that.” Sadie didn’t know what to say, but was sure she wasn’t too keen on more poop conversation. When she’d came back to her apartment after being absent for more than a week in linear time during her network assignment, her pet rabbit had playfully hidden bits everywhere and it had taken her days to get rid ot them, and of the smell.

              But Choanna chose to ignore the cue, and continued “you have to acknowledge this is serious business for the children, it’s their first real creation. This is an important development step for the future adult.”
              Sadie nodded politely, dying to roll her eyes, but sending waves of hearts instead, to cancel out any potential poop jinx.
              “Later, you see, it also will help the adult to not throw in the towel at the first failure. Huhu, I like to quote this analogy, it’s like a sculptor who would throw a lump of clay on the ground and immediately complain that it didn’t turn out well at the first try…”

              Sadie wanted to leave, and butted in a timid “Sorry, but…”

              “Exactly. People are always sorry, but you see, I did something very interesting today. I have decided to only speak of it if it synched with the events of the day, and you provided me with the synch when I saw you flinch at the bottled water earlier during my presentation. Did you know that blind tests of the best tasting water consistently ranked tap water the tastiest ? Now, sewers and poop now seem relevant all of a sudden…”

              “I’m getting late for my signing, that was nice talking to you!” she concluded mysteriously before leaving in a huff “But think about it!”

              What a bizarre yet endearingly odd mad woman this one, bless her heart… was all Sadie could think after the dust had settled in her wake. And that blessed tart conveniently forgot to mention that interesting thing of hers…

              #3266

              When Lisa eventually came out of her altered state, she was tired and perplexed. The last words she had heard had been “ I’m sorry I’ve led you to believe it was important, but it’s not, not really. It’s just a ordinary object to lead the philistines astray.” How depressing! she thought. How unutterably depressing! If nothing was important, then what was the point ~ of anything? If being led astray wasn’t an opportunity for another voyage of discovery, then what was the point? If everything was wrapped up and tidy with no mysterious paths to explore, then where did Story fit into the picture? A dull story indeed with no tentacles.
              “We may as well just go home and water the garden. Come on Mirabelle.” Lisa’s shoulders sagged dejectedly and she sighed deeply.
              “Oh no, not so fast! This doesn’t sound like you, Lisa! Has someone put a spell on you? Snap out of it!” Mirabelle considered whether slapping Lisa soundly would help break the spell, but decided to throw some bottled water in her face from a safe distance instead.
              The shock of it, welcome actually, cool and revitalizing, made Lisa laugh at the absurdity of ~ well, everything.
              “Oh fuck it, we may as well go and get some octopus tapas while we’re here. Let’s just pretend we’re ordinary people on an ordinary holiday and go to the beach.”

              #3249
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                “Tuna wars!” Jack said as the alarm clock bleeped. “Tuna wars?” asked Lisa, but got no response; Jack was still asleep.
                There had been an impromptu gathering the previous evening, various friends had unexpectedly called round, some bringing their holiday visitors with them and they had sat drinking beer and wine on the patio until well after midnight. Lisa started clearing away the ashtrays and bottles, noticing the racket the sparrows were making ~ they seemed unusually agitated this morning, darting between the overgrown foliage flapping and shrieking. When Lisa had finished clearing up the debris, she kept looking around, wondering what was missing or out of place. Something didn’t seem right. What was it, what was missing?
                The tile! That strange convoluted tile shaped rock that she’d found on the beach was gone!

                #3226

                With years of intense Happiness training, and being herself a certified Happiness Coach™ in Rainbow Unified Bliss®, Lisa was reasonably adept at dispelling the occasional bouts of frustration that the six time travelers were experiencing while familiarizing themselves with the new time frame. Learning the new languages, both the local Spanish and the common language of the village tribe, English, was of paramount importance, and Mirabelle in particular was having difficulties. A basic vocabulary was easy enough, but when it came to grammar, Mirabelle was hopeless. Thus her communications were of a very basic and rudimentary nature, and she often felt unable to express her feelings, or her thoughtful observations on the many nuances, similarities and differences and overlaps of the current time and 18th century France. Not only was she obliged to learn two new languages, but was also learning to read and write. Often it seemed like all work and no play, too much pressure to perform, to learn, to do well at her studies, and yet play breaks were always frustrated in some manner because of her difficulties in communicating clearly. The fact that the others were progressing better with the languages made her feel alone, adrift in a sea of her own unexpressed thoughts.
                Adeline had a more relaxed approach to the language difficulties, less inclined to struggle with it and more likely to chatter endlessly to Boris instead, and ask him to translate when she needed some help. She had discovered an interest, and some considerable talent, in the art room, experimenting with the paints and materials, and spent many happy hours engrossed in her paintings and playful collages of mundane (but to her, bizarre) objects. She was like a magpie, collecting items that caught her eye. The bright colours and smoothness of plastic appealed to her, especially when transformed in shape by one of those odd little plastic fire making gadgets. Sunglasses were another favourite, especially the different shades of lens. It was not unusual to hear one of the villagers complaining that the lids to the tupperware containers were missing, or all the bottle tops had been removed, to find they had all been glued together, with the flyswatter, a few odd flipflop beach shoes and the mirror lenses out of someones shades. But the villagers were on the whole amused, generously indulgent, and good naturedley rolled their eyes at her creative curiosity.
                Boris was practical and capable, and true to form, was learning rapidly. He had no particular desire to express vague rambling thoughts (indeed, he was not a vague and rambling man by nature) and turned his attention to more practical matters. When he wasn’t chatting to Adeline, he was watching Jack tinkering inside car engines, or playing with Pierre’s camera and had quickly learned how to upload and play with the images on the computer. Often in the evenings Adeline would sit beside him and watch drowsily as the images changed in front of her eyes on the screen.
                Ivan and Igor were learning what they needed to learn while doing it ~ tending the goats and chickens, working outside on the land, or helping with various building projects. They had taken to the local bars like ducks to water, and spent the evenings downing copious amounts of beer and wine with the locals, all of them babbling and shouting incoherently, but seeming to understand each other in the camaraderie of inebriation.

                #3217
                EricEric
                Keymaster

                  On the cruise ship, an inebriated crew of hundreds of rich Italian tourists were popping Brachetto bottles of sparkling wine and having the time of their lives.
                  The cruise was organized by a section of the Happiness Bureau to provide strange sightings and spiritual encounters à la mode.
                  They had to resort to the sparking wine as to keep the excitement at its peek.

                  The Management at the helm was holding its breath scanning the horizon for bleedthrough signs of the famed ghost ship.

                  #3190
                  AvatarJib
                  Participant

                    Linda Paul, undressed and without make-up, was reading a book in his favourite rainbow couch. The book could be any of the ones in the bookshelves, actually he had picked it up randomly. His mind was musing about the last events and the last message he received on his e-zapper.

                    That someone was working against him and his teams was clear. It had always been like that since he first tried his mama shoes, dresses and make-up. He remembered the preparation of his first lip-sync when he was nine, for an x-mas eve. Grand ma ‘Paul almost had a fit; that’s when he realized how powerful his influence over people was. So a case of show cancelation and clogged sewer was by no mean worrying.

                    But the message was another piece of muffin. Linda Paul took his zapper on the crystal coffee table and checked the last entry. “Make preparation for next mission. Transfer elephant and soprano to sixth quadrant 4×2. Don’t forget the frogs, we’ll need them. Send queens asap.”

                    In his experience, asap usually meant tomorrow. The poor girls wouldn’t have the time to rest and recover from the sewer, which was still clogged by the way, and the frogs were useful with their slimy skin to go past it more easily. Which meant we wouldn’t have the time or the resources to unclog the sewer until the next mission. They’ll have to move in the time drag school as soon as possible.

                    Linda texted his professional shopper team, they’ll need new dresses, fake nails, make-up, and wigs tonight. She’ll organize a little soiree to introduce the team formally to the time (fish)network.

                    And with a blurry zoom effect, she looked at the bottle of blue glowing pills on the coffee table. She’ll need them sooner than she expected.

                    #3006
                    AvatarJib
                    Participant

                      The pond was full of black tadpoles. The creatures were wriggling restlessly, following invisible currents, connecting dark stains packed with thousands of them. Benjamin Goat immersed a small plastic bottle into one of the biggest node, it sucked the little buggers like a fat syringe.
                      “Such a small container won’t reduce their population too much”, he thought. Indeed, he had always wondered why there were so many of them in the early stages and why you would see so few frogs or toads. The remaining tadpoles were beginning to gather around his hand. He repressed a shiver. A new idea for a movie just sprang up from his subconscious. Something to do with man-eater tadpoles. That would certainly hit the box office for months.
                      He smiled. There were enough of them in the bottle.

                      “Yuck!” said a fat pink lady before licking her strawberry ice cream.

                      “It’s for my son”, said Benjamin just before realizing he was justifying again. His psychiatrist had told him there was no need for justifying, it was like apologizing, and he needn’t apologize, he was the great Benjamin Goat after all. He snorted and mimicked drinking from his bottle. This time, she was disgusted. She made the mistake to hold her ice cream too far from herself and one of those Gib’s monkey with the pink ass stole it. She was shouting now, people would pay attention to her instead of him. People always pay attention to what’s more annoying.
                      Paradoxically, he felt a pang of jealousy. He was not used to let go of others’ attention.

                      His cell phone vibrated, three long vibrations and seven short ones. The code for his secret society. It was a great idea to put it in his last movie, unfortunately it hadn’t had the desired effect. People were so gullible that they would believe everything that came out in a fiction movie.
                      “The Jesuit is in the place”, said a vocoded voice. That was all. It could only mean one thing. It was all going according to the plan. He smiled and handed out the bottle to a kid. He wouldn’t need that after all.

                      #3002

                      In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                      EricEric
                      Keymaster

                        world seen suddenly smiled, trip come realized
                        read beginning mean dead floor smell street
                        bottle quickly odd ground keep king moustache

                        #2997

                        After a few months travelling from Spain to France in their quest for the dragons, with already two visa applications for China rejected, endless unkind mocking laughs or condescending looks from strangers, and having had to pawn temporarily the sabulmantium to buy Vincentius a shirt, Arona and her motley family were thinking it was time for a turn of fate.

                        It didn’t take them too long hopefully.
                        Of course, the sabulmantium was recovered as soon as they had realized it was actually more lucrative in this dimension to have Vincentius take off his shirt in shady bars at night for a few meals and lodging, and some little extras. Mandrake had been kind to provide ample squeaking mice supplements, which Arona had politely declined, for which Mandrake faked each time the saddest of disappointments. All in all, so far their life on the roads had been easier than she would have thought.
                        Of course, they’d lost Sanso a few times as he couldn’t stay at one place for too long, and keeping track of his movements was near impossible. So they relied on trust that he would always find his way, which surprisingly enough, he did every single time.

                        He had been the one to provide them with the way to the island actually. One day, after weeks without news, he’d reappeared, hammering at the door of their little room at the top of their 9 storey hotel in Paris, near the St Honoré Market Place. He was wearing the quaintest bright violet velvet surplice, and was carrying a bottle of glowing green liquor.

                        To settle in a lovely island of the Ocean they called Pacific… It didn’t take too much convincing: Paris was starting to get boring, and far too cold. Arona missed the moist glowing warmth of Leormn’s cave, that was so good for her skin. She didn’t miss the riddles though.

                        The entry point of the tunnel was inside the catacombs, and they’d almost got lost a few times, she could have sworn, although Sanso was ever confident they were on track, even when a few dead-ends were staring at him in the face with toothless skulls grins. But after a few hours, the tunnel actually broadened, and glowed a lovely shade of orange.

                        It was funny, traveling through the Earth’s crust, made her almost feel at home. If all the dragons of this realm had left, and were hidden somewhere, she was certain it had to be to such a place. It gave her hopes again to meet one in this strange land which had forgotten magic.

                        #2991
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          “Early retirement!” Skye said, “Bloody cheek! Undercover operation, very hush hush, it was. The noteworthy case of the Welsh Leaves of Absinthe, a very interesting case indeed. Fifty Seven bottles in that case, and each one different. I had to case the joint first of course, then proceed with the utmost abandon. Absolutely crucial to work this one to the book ~ intuition and impulse, and absolutely no planning.”

                          “I can’t wait to hear all about it” said Pearl. “ I heard about the Rose surge while you were there, and something about a radioactive grafitti surge originating in an abandoned nuclear plant in the mountains?”

                          “Absolutely true, Pearl. I heard about that one on the way back to the airport, spontaneous radiactive grafitti appearing and it’s heading east. That’s the bizarre thing, it’s working its way across the country, and each new sighting is east of the last one.”

                          “Sounds nasty, what’s the plan to divert it?” asked Pearl.

                          “Liverworts.”

                          #2966
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            Unfortunately, Mari Fe hadn’t been specific enough in her intention to arrive in Baku in summer (and truth be told she knew that arriving in summer would be tantamount to time meddling, and even she wouldn’t dream of going to that extreme). Mari Fe and Pearl arrived at the Baku portal in Fountain Square during a blizzard, but there were hundreds of dogs in heat. Heat, said Mari Fe to herself, sheesh.

                            “What now Pearl?”

                            “We’re going to look at carpets.”

                            “Carpets?”

                            “Yes, carpets good old magic flying carpets”, Pearl said, wiggling her eyebrows. “All these technical gadgets lately, well there’s not the same kind of beauty or stories with them, they all seem so, well a bit passe and male energy, to be honest. A bit too common, perhaps. And all those dicks popping up everywhere! Madre mia! So, that’s why we’re going to look at carpets.”

                            “Yeah” Mari Fe agreed. “I see what you mean,” and then added, rather mysteriously “It’s the weave, you know. It’s in the weave.”

                            “And the warp,” replied Pearl, which unfortunately triggered the painful reminders of Ed and Riffraff that Mari Fe had been trying to bottle up. A geyser of tightly held energy erupted. Fortunately the nearby fountain provided a sort of outlet into physical form, and merely appeared to have suddenly had a surge of both electricity and water. But there were few bystanders braving the blizzard in the square, and the dogs were fully focused on other matters, so a surge diversion operation type 57, method 22.5 was accomplished with an absolute minimum of disruption.

                            “I think we’ve got time for cake first,” Mari Fe said with a grin.

                            “And a Guinness.”

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