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In reply to: Two Aunties au Pair and Their Pert Carouses
Truth be told, April was missing the US. She missed all their little coterie of maids living in the shadows of the powerful. Missed the drama most of all.
She’d been secretly texting Norma and May, while June was lazily sipping mojitos with Jacqui.
Norma was fine, but May and the other alien staff had suddenly disappeared when the Secret Services had started to investigate more deeply into the staff’s backgrounds after all the kidnapping fiasco. At least, August had been covering for Norma, such kind soul he was. Besides, the President’s wife could no longer live without her butter chicken. But May and the others couldn’t face the music apparently. Funnily, they couldn’t find “real” American maids nowadays suited to replace them. Good luck with that!April couldn’t tell June, obviously, since her friend harboured such hatred for the system that had them put in jail. As for herself, she couldn’t argue with the fact they’d deserved it. Nothing a good lawyer couldn’t fix though. That’s why she loved the idea of America. Guilty as charged, indeed. Those charges now vanished.
She’d thought first that it would fuel her inspiration nicely, but it was the opposite. The sudden extra time had distracted her entirely, and her inspiration seemed inaccessible.
She was starting to make up her mind. She would go back, to her family in Arkansas. That could only be temporary of course, as her mother, bless her soul, would start to have her meet all the gents in the neighbourhood in the hopes to finally get her only daughter married. Talk about drama. If that doesn’t kick-start her inspiration engine, nothing would.
Problem was, with the virus around spreading mass panic, there seemed to be no sure way to fly back. She would have to devise some circuitous plan.
In reply to: Tart Wreck Repackage
“Cartwright and Wrexham Private Investigators, can I help you?”
“Do you do missing persons?” Vince asked, getting straight to the point. “Good, well then can I speak to a detective; it’s a very confidential matter.”
“Speaking!” replied Star, elated to receive a business inquiry, but simultaneously feeling a spasm of irritation at the mans attitude. “Star Wrexham, what can I do for you, Mr…?”
“French, Vince French.” Smoothing his hair and glancing in the wall mirror, Vince added, “You will have heard of me and my world famous melodious voice.”
Star had not, but replied encouraging, “Oh, I see. You can be sure of the utmost confidentiality and discretion, Mr French. Our credentials are unimpeachable. The missing person is..?”
“My uncle Basil, he’s gone. He got in with that cult, and now he’s gone. They’ve seduced him with all that mumbo jumbo and hype and parlour tricks, I could see it coming, I tell you, I knew they’d take him.” Vince was becoming emotional. “And now he’s left me.”
“Well if it’s your uncle, he must be, how old? So what if he wants to join a cult?” said Star, wondering why he was being so melodramatic. “What?” she whispered to Tara who was pulling faces and shaking her head. “Oh, right!” she replied, getting the message.
“Now then Mr French, I’m confident that we can find your uncle. We have some experience with cults and know how they operate. If you’d like to make an appointment with our secretary to pop in to the office as soon as possible..”
Star handed the phone to Tara. “Ms Cartwright, if you wouldn’t mind? The gentleman caller would like to make an appointment.”
“I’m a senior partner, not a secretary!” Tara hissed, taking the phone. Her anger subsided when she heard his voice. Where had she heard that voice before?
In reply to: The Chronicles of the Flying Fish Inn
I wish now that I’d had the sense to open the letter in private. I can’t imagine why I didn’t think of that, but I didn’t. I tried not to make a drama out of it, I didn’t make an announcement or anything. One morning after breakfast I untied the string and opened the letter. It wasn’t any of the things I had expected. Clearly printed in large capital letters at the top was written DON’T TELL MATER.
Quickly I folded it over, dropping it discreetly into my lap under the table. “Any more nettle tea in the pot, Bert?” I asked and feigned a casual yawn.
“Well?” asked Mater.
“Well what?” I asked.
“I can read you like a book,” she said, to which I replied hotly, “Well then I won’t need to write one, will I.”
“What did the letter say?” she pressed on.
“What letter?” I said
“For crying out loud!” she said.
“Pass your cup then,” said Bert, giving me a piercing look. Over the top of Mater’s head he mouthed a word, with a questioning look. I’ve never been any good at lip reading, but it looked like he was trying to say Jasper.
“Who?” I mouthed back, but Mater saw me, so I pretended I had a bit of nettle stuck between my teeth.
“For crying out loud,” Mater said again which elicited an exasperated remark from Bert about broken records, open books, unread letters and lost marbles.
In reply to: Pop﹡in People Tribulations
“Well, where were we?” Jerk took the articles where he left them when he got up to check the price on one lacking a barcode.
The blip blip resumed, with the impatient twitching lady pouncing on the items as soon as they passed the scanning, to cram them into her compostable bag.Days were stretching in ennui, and he started to feel like an android. At least, the rhythmical blips and “Have a good day, thank you for your purchase” were now part of his muscle memory, and didn’t require much paying attention to.
He’d renewed the yearly fee to maintain his group website yesterday, but he wasn’t sure why he did it. There were still the occasional posts on the groups he was managing, but the buzz had died already. People had moved to other things, autumn for one. Really, what was the point of maintaining it for 3 posts a week (and those were good weeks, of course not counting the spam).
There was fun occasionally, but more often than not, there were harangues.
He wondered what archetype he was in his life story; maybe he was just a background character, and that was fine, so long as he wasn’t just a supporting cast to another megalomaniac politician.The apartment blocks were he was living were awfully quiet. His neighbours were still in travel, he wondered how they could afford it. Lucinda was completely immersed in her writing courses, and Fabio was still around amazingly – Lucinda didn’t look like she could even care of herself, so a dog… Meanwhile, the town council was envisaging a “refresh” of their neighborhood, but he had strong suspicion it was another real-estate development scheme. Only time would tell. He wasn’t in a rush to jump to the conclusion of an expropriation drama —leave that to Luce.
Friday would have been her 60th brithday (funny typo he thought). Their dead friend’s birthday would still crop up in his calendar, and he liked that they were still these connections at least. Did she move on, he wondered. Sometimes her energy felt present, and Lucinda would argue she was helping her in her writing endeavours. He himself wasn’t sure, those synchronicities were nice enough without the emphatic spiritualist extrapolations.
“Happy birthday Granola.” he said.
Another crack appeared on the red crystal into which Granola was stuck for what felt like ages.
“About time!” she said. “I wonder if they have all forgotten about me now.”
She looked closely at the crack. There was an opening, invisible, the size of an atom. But maybe, just maybe, it was just enough for her to squeeze in. She leaned in and focused on the little dot to escape.
In reply to: Pop﹡in People Tribulations
Lucinda handed in her assignment to Helper Effy with a satisfied smile. The first major confrontation, action, or dramatic event that came to her mind had surprised her. She had no idea where it came from, and only a vague idea about who the characters were, or indeed, where they were. But she felt the apple cart and bicycle scene was rather thrilling and had potential.
In reply to: The Chronicles of the Flying Fish Inn
It was good of them to do it I suppose, but you know me and new contraptions, it’s hard to summon up the courage to deal with a new one, no matter how seemingly simple it might be to a mind more attuned to that sort of thing. There were a couple of glaring spelling mistakes the last time I used it, that I know I couldn’t possibly have made, so I suspect the damn thing has gremlins, like all these contraptions seem to have. Always doing inexplicable things.
At first I was worried about those two women who hadn’t come back out of the old mine yet, and cursed old Sanso for blinking right out like that, but I had the feeling that Sanso was on the case and not to worry. What could I do about it anyway? I reckon one day we’ll hear the story, one way or another.
I’ve had enough to think about here with Mater’s latest drama.
In reply to: Pop﹡in People Tribulations
The creative writing course teacher, or “Helper” as they liked to call themselves to avoid any suggestion of hierarchy, was an arresting looking woman of indeterminate age and the most extraordinary red beehive hair do. The colour and style of it, and the aplomb with which Helper Effy carried it off, distracted Lucinda sufficiently during the first part of the lesson that she heard none of it.
At one point Helper Effy glared at her, and Lucinda quickly averted her gaze, realizing her mindless gaping stare had been noticed. She closed her eyes to better pay attention.
“What’s the first major confrontation, or action, or dramatic event in your novel that comes to your mind?” the Helper was asking. “Why? Because if it is the first thing you think of, then it’s your chimney poking through the hardpan.”
Not quite sure what a hardpan was, Lucinda never the less felt she’d got the gist of the thing, and hoped she wouldn’t be too distracted by the question of the hardpan.
In reply to: The Stories So Near
Newest developments
POP-IN THREAD (Maeve, Lucinda, Shawn-Paul, Jerk, [Granola])
Maeve and Shawn-Paul are travelling separately to the Australian bush, and end up together at the Flying Fish Inn where they discover they’ve been given the same coupons. Maeve is suspicious of a mysterious man following her.
Maeve has an exchange with Arona, and sketches her and the cat for her collection of ideas for new dolls. They discover that Arona has the key from her doll.
Little is said of what happened after Maeve’s Uncle Fergus appears in dramatic fashion.
After the collective black-out, all bets are off as to the next steps.In Canada, Jerk is killing time at the mall, and Lucinda is possibly taking care of Fabio who might be distressed as he’s peeing the doormat regularly.
Granola after hopping between threads and realities, detected a psychic blast from the Doctor and while trying to investigate, ended up trapped in a tiny red crystal at the Doctor’s lair.
FLYING FISH INN THREAD (Mater/Finly, Idle/Coriander/Clove, Devan, Prune, [Tiku])
After the dramatic arrival of Fergus and the guests, some flirting of Sanso and Idle, Mater’s fashion show, Prune has decided to get back to school after an indigestion of medicinal lizard.
Some of the guests, namely Connie and Hilda have gone to explore the mines. Possibly with Devan and Bert in tow.
Fergus has mysteriously disappeared after the black-out.
DOLINE THREAD (Arona, Sanso/Lottie, Ugo, Albie)
Arona, Ugo, Albie and Mandrake have left the Australian Inn, after a dramatic chase by unknown assailants, possibly the magpies sent by the Doctor. They reappear in the Doline, in Leörmn’s pool, having managed to get the magpies off their trail.
NEWSREEL THREAD (Ms Bossy, Hilda/Connie, Sophie, Ricardo)
The Doctor has managed a psychic event of dramatic proportions. He’s noticed a glowing red crystal that seems to have interfered with his machine. He’s starting to study it, and unravel its secrets.
Sharon, Gloria and Mavis, the dynamic trio is planning their escape from the nursing home. The psychic blast seems to have alerted Gloria somehow as to the fate of Granola (B), as she somehow guess it’s linked to the Doctor’s experiments (beauty treatments). They plan to go there to investigate (after a fashion).
LIZ THREAD (Finnley, Liz, Roberto, Godfrey)
Finnley has disappeared, Liz and Godfrey are to fend for themselves.
DRAGON 💚 WOOD THREAD (Glynnis, Eleri, Fox/Gorrash, Rukshan)
Muriel has left the cottage, and our friends are preparing their travel to the Land of Giant, while some tales are told.
Glynnis is teaching bits to a birds’ choir.In reply to: Pop﹡in People Tribulations
It took a while for Franola to get back to the sudden surge of activity. She had to use Finley as an anchor for awhile, since Tiku seemed to have moved out of the picture.
Franola shook the typo mergence out of her dusty cloud, and resumed being Garnola — — well, Granola.She’d picked up interesting stuff on her way to the now overcrowded inn.
Bits and pieces of a ragtag team of mag’spies on their way to fetch the engraved key, but they seemed to have been distracted by promises of gold on their way from their last known location. She hadn’t stayed too long to check on them, as she’d felt a sudden telepathic attack from the Doctor, and had simply popped out to avoid attracting him into her safe mental spaces.Well, without Tiku around the Inn to lend her body for spirit possession, it would be more difficult to verbally warn her friends Maeve and Shawn-Paul, especially caught up as they were in all that dramatic tension.
She quite liked her new vantage point though. Fisheye view, literally. She could see the whole company, hidden in the eye of the strange fish hanged on the wall.A mean looking cat was starting to hiss and snarl at her though. Or maybe that was her mind playing tricks. After all that backstage exploration, she might have been confounded as to whom was doing the snarling.
In reply to: The Precious Life and Rambles of Liz Tattler
In reply to: Newsreel from the Rim of the Realm
“I have to say,” Miss Bossy Pants took a dramatic pause for maximum effect “that you all have been incredulously industrious.”
“Is she insulting us again?” Hilda hissed at Connie.
“Shht! There’s no tellin’ with her…” Connie replied, as baffled as the other by the impromptu award ceremony.“Ahem-hem-hm!” Miss Pants melodiously hummed and cleared her voice making sure she had everyone’s attention, which was quite a challenge, if you’d asked her. Of course, she relished a challenge.
“As I was saying, you all have been busy, and delivered well…”“Aaah, that’s what she meant!” whispered Connie
“She should have said so, why all the confusing pistache?”
“You mean panache?”
“No, although I’d fancy a nice beer and lemonade.”Once they had finished their sideways discussion, Miss Bossy had already gone to explain the first award category : “Most Stylistic Synchronistic Article”.
“It’s going to take a while” Ricardo winked at them, “considering all the articles you’ve produced this week only. But I wouldn’t discard the possibility of Sophie winning one yet.”
In reply to: Pop﹡in People Tribulations
Granola felt a bit stupid in her squishy giraffe suit, lying deflated on the carpeted floor of the entrance.
“Ailill!” she called for her afterlife tech support guy in blue.
“Up here, darling.”
She looked up, and sure enough, he was there, a blue pompom ball dangling from the ceiling. It landed quite gracefully next to her giraffe, and turned into a small guy in blue overalls.
“Got yourself again stuck in rut, haven’t you?” he smiled at the giraffe, propping it up on its elastic legs.
“You can say that. It feels like days I’ve been stuck in a loop, observing the same people doing the same things. When I think I’m moving on, I’m actually just switching to the next one, but it’s always the same moment.
Lucinda blathering on the phone while I’m her cushion, and next I’m a paper roll in Jerk’s cash register, and the moment after, I’m the blank page that Shawn Paul stares at for hours, or one of Maeve’s unfinished dolls next. Actually, the giraffe feels kind of an improvement.”She looked musingly and a bit enviously at Ailill’s form: “I didn’t think it’d be that tough to graduate to human form. Blobs of red lights were fun enough, but… things! This!” The giraffe looked at its chewed legs and wobbled precariously.
“In actuality…” Ailill started loftily
“Oh dear… make it simple please.”
“It’s part of the evaluation of attachments. You need to move beyond them, then you’ll be free to do more things, to be more. For now, you still see yourself as a props in these characters’ dramaless lives. But try to think about that one: what if they were the props of yours? You are trying too hard to move around the wrong things. The journey is inwards, always my friend.”
Something squished into the small giraffe, as if it something in Ailill’s speech had made sense to Granola.
In reply to: The Precious Life and Rambles of Liz Tattler
Liz, who had been out in the garden, waxing lyrical about the glorious sun for this time of year, the colours of the flowers and at the same time regaling Roberto with tales of the places she had been, paled when she noticed Paul Anna writing notes into his phone.
She stopped dead in her tracks.
“It’s that powerful journalist, Paul Anna! I can’t possibly do an interview now!” she hissed at Roberto, “I’ve not even unpacked my case … I don’t have any clean clothes! Where is that maid .. what’s her name … Glynis? Oh no, that’s not right. Ah, Finnley!”
Liz looked frantically around.
“Here I am. All ears, as per usual,” said Finnley.
“Finnley!” Liz hissed. “It’s time to do some work for a change. Get me out of this interview and make no bones about it!”
“Oh okay, If i must,” said Finnley. She had been looking forward to the interview. She well remembered the last interview when Inspector Olliver had come to question Liz over the missing maid in the suitcase misadventure. Most entertaining.
She cleared her throat dramatically. “Oh Madam Liz!” she said loudly. “Your Great Aunt Lottie is on the phone and it’s very urgent indeed.”
In reply to: The Precious Life and Rambles of Liz Tattler
“You have NO idea!” announced Elizabeth, dramatically throwing the front door open, “No idea what I’ve been through!”
“We do have an idea,” replied Godfrey, a welcoming smile playing about his lips.
“You have NO IDEA!” Liz glared at him. “You think it was all about family, but no! Oh no!” Liz tried unsuccessfully to remove her long purple scarf with a flourish, but it caught on the hook of the hatstand and tightened around her throat. Finnley came to her rescue ~ rather slowly, if truth be told ~ by which time Elizabeth’s face matched the puce of her scarf. Liz coughed, and then took a few deep breaths.
“Roberto, take care of my suitcase will you? It’s heavy. It’s full of gargoyles. Finnley, put the kettle on!”
In reply to: The Precious Life and Rambles of Liz Tattler
“Where does that music come from?” asked Liz baffled that someone could play such unLiz music while she was there.
Godfrey and Finnley looked at each others rolling eyes and gulped another glass of tonic.
“Well, why. It’s Roberto,” said Godfrey. “He came to me the other day with an old VHS he had found in the cellar. Apparently an old French gym program called Gym Tonic with two girls hopping and stretching for one hour.”
“I didn’t even know we had a cellar here,” said Liz. More treasures to find, she thought, her eyes glittering.
“I recognise that look of yours,” said Finnley, “Don’t even think about it. You’ll come back and scatter spiderwebs and dust all around and I’ll have to find someone to clean your mess. Take another tonic.” Finnley handed a glass to Liz and Godfrey looked, one eyebrow raised dramatically, at her other hand hidden behind her back. It held a small vial that looked empty.In reply to: The Precious Life and Rambles of Liz Tattler
Liz left her bed at 8:30am, wearing only her pink and blue doubled cotton night gown, a perfect hair and her fluffy pink blue mules. She had been thinking about her characters while the sun was trying to rise with great difficulty. Liz couldn’t blame the Sun as temperatures had dropped dramatically since the beginning of winter and the air outside was really cold.
When Liz was thinking about her writings and her characters, she usually felt hungry. Someone had told her once that the brain was a hungry organ and that you needed fuel to make it work properly. She didn’t have a sweet tooth, but she wouldn’t say no to some cheesy toast, any time of the day.
She had heard some noise coming from the kitchen, certainly Finnley doing who knows what, although certainly not cleaning. It might be the association between thinking about her characters and the noise in the kitchen that triggered her sudden craving for a melted slice of cheese on top of a perfectly burnished toast. The idea sufficed to make her stomach growl.
She chuckled as she thought of inventing a new genre, the toast opera. Or was it a cackle?
As she was lost in her morning musings, her mules gave that muffled slippery sound on the floor that Finnley found so unladylike. Liz didn’t care, she even deliberately slowed her pace. The slippery sound took on another dimension, extended and stretched to the limit of what was bearable even for herself. Liz grinned, thinking about Finnley’s slight twitching right eye as she certainly was trying to keep her composure in the kitchen.
Liz, all cheerful, was testing the differences between a chuckle and a cackle when she entered the kitchen. She was about to ask Finnley what she thought about it when she saw a small person in a yellow tunic and green pants, washing the dishes.
Liz stopped right there, forgetting all about chuckles and cackles and even toasts.
“Where is Finnley?” she asked, not wanting to appear the least surprised. The small person turned her head toward Liz, still managing to keep on washing the dishes. It was a girl, obviously from India.
“Good morning, Ma’am. I’m Anna, the new maid only.”
“The new… maid?”
Liz suddenly felt panic crawling behind her perfectly still face. She didn’t want to think about the implications.
“Why don’t you use the dishwasher?” she asked, proud that she could keep the control of her voice despite her hunger, her questions about chuckles and cackles, and…
“The dirty dishes are very less, there is no need to use the dishwasher only.”
Liz looked at her bobbing her head sideways as if the spring had been mounted the wrong way.
“Are you alright?” asked Anna with a worried look.
“Of course, dear. Make me a toast with a slice of cheese will you?”
“How do I do that?”
“Well you take the toaster and you put the slice of bread inside and pushed the lever down… Have you never prepared toasts before?”
“No, but yes, but I need to know how you like it only. I want to make it perfect for your liking, otherwise you won’t be satisfied.” The maid suddenly looked lost and anxious.
“Just do as you usually do,” said Liz. “Goddfrey?” she called, leaving the kitchen before the maid could ask anymore questions.
Where was Goddfrey when she needed him to explain everything?
“You need me?” asked a voice behind her. He had appeared from nowhere, as if he could walk through the walls or teleport. Anyway, she never thought she would be so relieved to see him.
“What’s that in the kitchen?”
“What’s what? Oh! You mean her. The new maid.”
He knew! Liz felt a strange blend of frustration, despair and anger. She took mental note to remember it for her next chapter, and came back to her emotional turmoil. Was she the only one unaware of such a bit change in her home?
“Well, she followed us when we were in India. We don’t know how, but she managed to find a place in one of your trunks. Finnley found her as she had the porter unpacked the load. It seems she wants to help.”
In reply to: Eight Turns of the Wheel
random plot generator
A BOOK SHOP – IT IS THE AFTERNOON AFTER ALBIE HIT HIS MOTHER WITH A FEATHER.
Newly unemployed ALBIE is arguing with his friend JENNY RAMSBOTTOM. ALBIE tries to hug JENNY but she shakes him off angrily.
ALBIE
Please Jenny, don’t leave me.JENNY
I’m sorry Albie, but I’m looking for somebody a bit more brave. Somebody who faces his fears head on, instead of running away. You hit your mother with a feather! You could have just talked to her!ALBIE
I am such a person!JENNY
I’m sorry, Albie. I just don’t feel excited by this relationship anymore.JENNY leaves and ALBIE sits down, looking defeated.
Moments later, gentle sweet shop owner MR MATT HUMBLE barges in looking flustered.
ALBIE
Goodness, Matt! Is everything okay?MATT
I’m afraid not.ALBIE
What is it? Don’t keep me in suspense…MATT
It’s … a hooligan … I saw an evil hooligan frighten a bunch of elderly ladies!ALBIE
Defenseless elderly ladies?MATT
Yes, defenseless elderly ladies!ALBIE
Bloomin’ heck, Matt! We’ve got to do something.MATT
I agree, but I wouldn’t know where to start.ALBIE
You can start by telling me where this happened.MATT
I was…
MATT fans himself and begins to wheeze.ALBIE
Focus Matt, focus! Where did it happen?MATT
The Library! That’s right – the Library!ALBIE springs up and begins to run.
EXT. A ROAD – CONTINUOUS
ALBIE rushes along the street, followed by MATT. They take a short cut through some back gardens, jumping fences along the way.
INT. A LIBRARY – SHORTLY AFTER
ROGER BLUNDER a forgetful hooligan terrorises two elderly ladies.
ALBIE, closely followed by MATT, rushes towards ROGER, but suddenly stops in his tracks.
MATT
What is is? What’s the matter?ALBIE
That’s not just any old hooligan, that’s Roger Blunder!MATT
Who’s Roger Blunder?ALBIE
Who’s Roger Blunder? Who’s Roger Blunder? Only the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!MATT
Blinkin’ knickers, Albie! We’re going to need some help if we’re going to stop the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!ALBIE
You can say that again.MATT
Blinkin’ knickers, Albie! We’re going to need some help if we’re going to stop the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!ALBIE
I’m going to need candlesticks, lots of candlesticks.Roger turns and sees Albie and Matt. He grins an evil grin.
ROGER
Albie Jones, we meet again!MATT
You’ve met?ALBIE
Yes. It was a long, long time ago…EXT. A PARK – BACK IN TIME
A young ALBIE is sitting in a park listening to some trance music, when suddenly a dark shadow casts over him.
He looks up and sees ROGER. He takes off his headphones.
ROGER
Would you like some wine gums?ALBIE’s eyes light up, but then he studies ROGER more closely, and looks uneasy.
ALBIE
I don’t know, you look kind of forgetful.ROGER
Me? No. I’m not forgetful. I’m the least forgetful hooligan in the world.ALBIE
Wait, you’re a hooligan?ALBIE runs away, screaming.
INT. A LIBRARY – PRESENT DAY
ROGER
You were a coward then, and you are a coward now.MATT
(To ALBIE) You ran away?
ALBIE
(To MATT) I was a young child. What was I supposed to do?
ALBIE turns to ROGER.ALBIE
I may have run away from you then, but I won’t run away this time!
ALBIE runs away.He turns back and shouts.
ALBIE
I mean, I am running away, but I’ll be back – with candlesticks.ROGER
I’m not scared of you.ALBIE
You should be.INT. A SWEET SHOP – LATER THAT DAY
ALBIE and MATT walk around searching for something.
ALBIE
I feel sure I left my candlesticks somewhere around here.MATT
Are you sure? It does seem like an odd place to keep deadly candlesticks.ALBIE
You know nothing Matt Humble.MATT
We’ve been searching for ages. I really don’t think they’re here.Suddenly, ROGER appears, holding a pair of candlesticks.
ROGER
Looking for something?MATT
Crikey, Albie, he’s got your candlesticks.ALBIE
Tell me something I don’t already know!MATT
The earth’s circumference at the equator is about 40,075 km.ALBIE
I know that already!MATT
I’m afraid of dust.ROGER
(appalled) Dude!While ROGER is looking at MATT with disgust, ALBIE lunges forward and grabs his deadly candlesticks. He wields them, triumphantly.
ALBIE
Prepare to die, you forgetful aubergine!ROGER
No please! All I did was frighten a bunch of elderly ladies!JENNY enters, unseen by any of the others.
ALBIE
I cannot tolerate that kind of behaviour! Those elderly ladies were defenceless! Well now they have a defender – and that’s me! Albie Jones defender of innocent elderly ladies.ROGER
Don’t hurt me! Please!ALBIE
Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t use these candlesticks on you right away!ROGER
Because Albie, I am your father.ALBIE looks stunned for a few moments, but then collects himself.
ALBIE
No you’re not!ROGER
Ah well, it had to be worth a try.ROGER tries to grab the candlesticks but ALBIE dodges out of the way.
ALBIE
Who’s the daddy now? Huh? Huh?Unexpectedly, ROGER slumps to the ground.
MATT
Did he just faint?ALBIE
I think so. Well that’s disappointing. I was rather hoping for a more dramatic conclusion, involving my deadly candlesticks.ALBIE crouches over ROGER’s body.
MATT
Be careful, Albie. It could be a trick.ALBIE
No, it’s not a trick. It appears that… It would seem… Roger Blunder is dead!ALBIE
What?ALBIE
Yes, it appears that I scared him to death.MATT claps his hands.
MATT
So your candlesticks did save the day, after all.JENNY steps forward.
JENNY
Is it true? Did you kill the forgetful hooligan?ALBIE
Jenny how long have you been…?JENNY puts her arm around ALBIE.
JENNY
Long enough.ALBIE
Then you saw it for yourself. I killed Roger Blunder.JENNY
Then the elderly ladies are safe?ALBIE
It does seem that way!A crowd of vulnerable elderly ladies enter, looking relived.
JENNY
You are their hero.The elderly ladies bow to ALBIE.
ALBIE
There is no need to bow to me. I seek no worship. The knowledge that Roger Blunder will never frighten elderly ladies ever again, is enough for me.JENNY
You are humble as well as brave! And I think that makes up for hitting your mother with a feather. It does in my opinion!One of the elderly ladies passes ALBIE a healing ring
JENNY
I think they want you to have it, as a symbol of their gratitude.ALBIE
I couldn’t possibly.
Pause.ALBIE
Well, if you insist. It could come in handy when I go to the Doline tomorrow. With my friend Matt. It is dangerous and only for brave people and a healing ring could come in handy.ALBIE takes the ring.
ALBIE
Thank you.
The elderly ladies bow their heads once more, and leave.ALBIE turns to JENNY.
ALBIE
Does this mean you want me back?JENNY
Oh, Albie, of course I want you back!
ALBIE smiles for a few seconds, but then looks defiant.ALBIE
Well you can’t have me.JENNY
WHAT?ALBIE
You had no faith in me. You had to see my scare a hooligan to death before you would believe in me. I don’t want a lover like that. And I am going to the Doline and I may not be back!JENNY
But…ALBIE
Please leave. I want to spend time with the one person who stayed with me through thick and thin – my best friend, Matt.MATT grins.
JENNY
But…MATT
You heard the gentleman. Now be off with you. Skidaddle! Shoo!JENNY
Albie?ALBIE
I’m sorry Jenny, but I think you should skidaddle.
JENNY leaves.MATT turns to ALBIE.
MATT
Did you mean that? You know … that I’m your best friend?ALBIE
Of course you are!
The two walk off arm in arm.Suddenly MATT stops.
MATT
When I said I’m afraid of dust, you know I was just trying to distract the hooligan don’t you?In reply to: The Precious Life and Rambles of Liz Tattler
Liz was furious. She stormed into the living room of the manoir where she found Finnley, swishing her duster lethargically and rather randomly with one hand while she texted with the other. Liz frowned but decided to ignore this blatant breach of cleaning protocol. There were more pressing matters on hand!
“My fury knows no bounds, “ she said, rather dramatically, to Finnley.
Finnley grunted non-committedly. Liz was encouraged by the unexpected response.
“That child, Jingle — and what a ridiculous name — that child is the rudest person it has ever been my misfortune to meet. Do you know what she said to me?” She glared accusingly at Finnley.
“No”, said Finnley.
“I was kind enough to read her an extract from my latest novel and she had the audacity to say, in that awful german accent of hers, that I was getting on her nerves with my outpourings. That “I” was getting on “her” nerves! The cheek of it.”
“That is quite rude,” agreed Godfrey, who appeared from nowhere, as usual. “But don’t worry, dear Liz, it is just a projection of her own insecurities. It always is. Unless it is you being rude one, of course, in which case it is no doubt most profound and accurate,” he added hurriedly, wisely thinking it was best to cover his bases.
“Just get rid of her,” said Finnley.
In reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods
“You’ve been careless. The ghosts have been following you.”
The Queen had not moved nor spoken. It was her emissary who was talking in her stead, as customary.
In the morning, at the break of dawn, Rukshan had summoned the Court, by calling in an owl with the old speech of their tongue.
It was not long before he was found and guided to a careful ritual of purification before he was allowed in front of their sovereign.The idea struck him like lightening. Following me? Was that what happened?
“You look surprised. Another sign of carelessness. Now, they are wandering around our walls of magic fire, they are following you. As a result of our actions, we are exhausting our stores of magic to put defenses in place, putting our civilisation in peril. What have you to say for your defense?”
“Throw me in iron jail” a shudder ran through the small crowd “kill me if you think I deserve it.” Rukshan paused for dramatic effect “But it won’t solve your predicament, will it?”He felt a rush of defiance coursing through his veins. They couldn’t hold him against his will, there wasn’t any ban on improper use of magic, nor any punition for that, and if they wanted to get rid of the ghosts, they’d better let him go.
“Let him go.” The breaking of protocol made everyone fuss around, until the Queen silenced everyone with a regal wave of hand. “Let him go.” She turned her gaze to meet his. “You think you are better than us, by renouncing the old ways, trying to define your own, but you are not above natural laws. They will follow you until you find how to appease them. I do hope, for the sake of all, that you will find a way. Humans may think they have tamed the wild, but the wild is rising and cannot be contained. The forest will see to it, and you better hurry. We will give you what you need for your journey, and three days to prepare.”
In reply to: Seven Twines and the Dragon Heartwoods
It had been many years since Eleri left the service of Lord and Lady Teacake to make a life of her own in the woods, but she continued to visit Lady Jolly from time to time, arranging her visits to coincide with the Lord Mayor’s trips abroad. It was not that Lord Leroway wouldn’t have made her welcome ~ rather the reverse ~ in fact he found it hard to keep his hands off her. Eleri had no reciprocating feelings for the old scoundrel, but a great deal of affinity and affection for the Lady Jolly, a kindred soul despite their seemingly different stations in the life of a small rural township.
Lord Leroway Teacake had not been born a noble, nor had the Lady Jolly. Leroway had a dream one night that he had been made the Lord Mayor of Trustinghampton in the Wold, and in the dream he was asking his teenage neighbour, Jolly Farmcock, for advice on what to say to the villagers in his inauguration speech. It appeared that the pretty girl with the curious eyes was his partner in the dream, and the dream was so vivid and real that he set his sights upon her and courted her hand in marriage. Jolly was bowled over by his ardent attention, and charmed by his enthusiasm. Before long they were married and Leroway was ready to continue his dream mission.
Leroway was tall and broad shouldered, and prematurely bald in an arrestingly handsome sort of way. Despite his size, he had a way with intricate mechanisms; he had the manual dexterity of a watchmaker, and a fascination for making new devices with parts from old broken contraptions. Had it not been for the dream, he would have happily spent his life tinkering in the workshop of his parents home.
But the dream was a driving compulsion, and he and his new bride set off to find Trustinghampton in the Wold, as the feeling within him grew that the villagers were expecting him.
“Where is it?” Jolly asked.
“We will know when we find it!” replied Leroway. “Hold on to my coat tails!” he added a trifle theatrically. Jolly smiled up at him, loving his exuberance. And off they set, first deciding at the garden gate whether to turn right or left. And this is what they did at every intersection and fork in the road. They paused and waited for the pulling. Not once did they have a difference of opinion on which direction the drawing energy came from. It was clear.
They arrived at the newly populated abandoned village just as the sun was setting behind the castle ramparts. Wisps of blue smoke curled from a few chimneys, and the aroma of hot spiced food hastened their steps. A small black and white terrier trotted towards them, yapping.
“We have arrived!” Leroway announced to the little dog. “And we are quite hungry.”
The dog turned and trotted up the winding cobbled street, lined with crumbling vacant houses, looking over his shoulder as if to say “follow me”. Leroway and Jolly followed him to the door of a cottage with candle light glowing in the window.
The dog scratched on the cottage door and yapped. Creaking and scraping the tile floor, the door opened a crack, and a young woman pushed her ragged dreadlocks over her shoulder with a grimy hand, peering out.
“Ah!” she said, her face breaking into a smile. “Who are you? Well never mind, I have a feeling you are expected. Come in, come in.”
The door creaked alarmingly and juddered as it scraped the floor. Leroway scowled at the door hinges, suppressing an urge to take the door off the hinges right then and there to fix it.
“My name is Alexandria,” the woman introduced herself when the travelers had squeezed through the opening. She kissed them on both cheeks and gestured them to sit beside the fireplace. “We haven’t been here long, so please excuse the disarray.”
Noticing her guests eyes on the bubbling pot on the fire, she exclaimed, “Oh but first you must eat! It’s nothing fancy, but it is mushroom season and I must say I have never had such delicious mushrooms as the ones growing wild here. Let me take your coats ~ I say, what a gorgeous purple! ~ sit, do sit!” she said, pulling a couple of rickety chairs up to the table.
“You are too kind,” replied Jolly gratefully. “It smells divine, and we are quite hungry.”
“How many people live here?” asked Leroway.
“Twenty two now, more are arriving every day,” replied Alexandria. “Eleri and I and Lobbocks were the first to come and we sent word to the others. You see,” she sighed, “It’s really been quite a challenge down in the valleys. Many chose to stay, but some of us, well, we felt an urge to move, to find a place untouched by the lowland dramas.”
“I see,” said Leroway, although he didn’t really know what she meant by lowland dramas. He had spent his life in the hills.
He tucked into his bowl of mushroom stew. There was plenty of time to find out. He was here to stay.
