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  • #3273

    Consuela was always the more independent and adventurous. She didn’t realise at first that there was something not quite right about the perilous situation.

    Breathing under water was strange, and it felt like a not quite adjusted piece of garment (an ill-motherfucker-fitted thong Maurana would have said), as though her lungs were filled with a light yet mucous fluid.
    They’d all struggled and kicked the water in violent spams in the beginning, thinking they were about to die when the wetsuit automatic mucusbags went off, as a security measure for drowning, she’d guessed.
    But then, the magic happened and they realised they could breathe like fishes.
    Then the shark panic attack happened, which left them swimming for their lives with their prosthetic fins (and more or less graceful movements). But the shark didn’t seem interested after all, or it was driven away by a more juicy prospect, because they soon found themselves following a strange string of parallel lighted dots that dived deeper under water like an oddly placed seacraft runway. At least, that was what she thought at first, until she arrived at the cave’s entrance and realized nobody was actually following her.

    The others didn’t follow… She only had to hope that they would catch her later with a taxi or something…
    The thought of being able to discover the underwater cave trumped all sense of caution, and the lure of the prized crystal of exotic properties was enough to send her further down, despite the feeling of flashing tentacles creeping around in her peripheral vision, then gone in an instant the moment she turned the head around…

    #3272

    “There is a fine balance between touch ups and shoehorning”
    Jonbert was half-listening to the rant of his tailor and shoemaker, as he was trying on a new outfit and tartan kilt.
    Jonbert’s temper had improved slightly, and he was up to moderate amount of grumpiness as he’d learnt of the arrival of the elder whale, and of the throwing of his guests in the midst of the cetaceans. That explained how he could tolerate much of it.

    “You can’t just shoehorn any pattern under the pretext that you fancy it. It has to be in harmony with the moment, in pure synchronistic bliss.” His tailor, Erldrich Lumoncelli, was often prone to bouts of philosophical ramblings that Jonbert had to suffer to get the perfect tailored suits he wanted.

    “Oh, bugger that nonsense,” he suddenly shouted, unable to suffer more of the airy monologue. “You’ll give me that gold and orange tartan and those yellow dots on my green shoes if I tell you so. Orange will bring out my shiny hair and light complexion I reckon.”

    Color-blind Jonbert wasn’t obviously as savvy for colour matching as he was for time-travelling business, but Erldrich knew better than to infuriate him with aesthetic negotiations.
    “Very well Sir.”
    He finished taking the measurements quickly, folded back the swatches of textile, and bowed out as if his house was on fire.

    Jonbert pulled back his heavy mane of hair into a neat French catogan, truly a unapologetic snobbishness on his part, as it didn’t look very different from a usual ponytail, but somehow sounded more distinguished. Nobody likes to be compared to a pony, do they?
    He walked past the great central hall of the submarine, into the Sightseethroughing Dome Room, and considered for a moment to visit the butterfly nursery, in case the new butterflies were hatched yet. But if butterflies had taught him something is that you couldn’t hurry and cut open a cocoon before the butterfly was ready. There was no such thing as a mythical half-caterpillar half-butterfly creature, every change was a complete change, and it had its own timing.

    But now things were back on course, and the 22nd of February 2222 was still days ahead. Time again was on his side.

    #3269

    Gliding through layers of consciousness, Belen carried her precious cargo of the Santa Maria and its birds towards her destination.
    There were various variations of the same 2222, and she carefully adjusted the course along the 202 years gap, so as to swim to her favourite version of it. It required much love work on her part, addressing, piecing and peacing off many parts of human consciousness, while at the same time tenderly caring for the memories stored with her immense ghost body.
    The 2020 version they had just left, she knew, was already on the proper track towards global enlightenment. There were still horrors, concerns and anxiety about the course of the future, but with a greater perspective, it looked like the positive actions were gaining momentum and leaning towards a brighter fuller and richer future.

    She could feel the Contact Crystal pulsate steadily and it opened her blowhole chakra. Blowing her mind, as it were.

    The Big Island was like a beacon, with the flows of lava rippling heatwave signatures in the ocean, and it didn’t take long to enter the stream that would lead them to the pod and the meeting point.

    As she sensed they’d arrived in 2222, and that they were floating on the surface of a calm ocean, she gently opened the energy bubble sealing the ghost and alive cargo of birds and vegetation, so they could breathe in the pure air and enjoy discovering around.

    Belen, look at you, not a ounce more of blubber since we last met! You ought to tell me how you keep so fit”
    “Batshatsassani!” Belen was pleased the see the great female orca who’d come to greet her.
    “Still with your entourage, it seems” her friend said without a hint of malice, blowing a few rings of bubbles around in a relaxed manner. “Let me accompany you to the ceremony.”
    “With great pleasure, dear. Rest assured, I won’t carry my entourage along for the time of the ceremony.”
    “It would have been cumbersome, no?” Oftentimes humour (and irony in particular) were a lost subtlety on the orca’s mind. Belen just smiled to answer, revealing a great range of ghostwhite perfect baleens.

    As they swam their way along the beautiful clear ocean, they were greeted by a pod of joyously rambunctious great dolphins, a good half size bigger than their common dolphins cousins she’d seen swimming near the coasts of Portugal. The leader of the pod was doing acrobatics to retrieve and play with a funny scarf made of colorful feathers. It was no surprise the dolphins were playing games, really. That or chasing food took the best of their time. But the scarf was the strangest thing Belen had seen in a long time and it triggered some kind of forgotten memory. Odd thing for her to not remember a memory, unless it was from another probable dimension… She followed the urge to ask.

    “Were did they get that?”
    “Oh, it’s nothing important… Four strange aquatic thingies went down earlier this morning, making a whole lot of noise around. They looked like one of those aliens, but so clumsy we thought they were probably sickly and left there to die by their tribe. The ‘phins took the fancy red gills from one of them.”
    “Are you serious? Are they OK?” Belen huge heart felt panicky at the thought of the small creatures left to die without help.
    “Of course they are, I knoooow we have to keep our reputation, you know. Where they are now, I’m not too sure. But the octopi from the camouflage squad are on it, following them. According to the last I know, the aliens have been lost for awhile in the underwater caves. When they’re exhausted, we’ll send them somewhere else… Can’t attract too much attention to ourselves, with the ceremony and all…”

    #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.”

    #3262

    After they’d jumped in the robot (which had shapeshifted into a sand buggy big enough for them), they had to cling tight to the railing of the light vehicle, as the robot was driving recklessly into a jungle of unexpected leaves and green vegetation tentacles.
    It wasn’t long before they were back on the gorgeously rugged Hawai’ian beach, taken on an unexpected dune racing along the coast.
    The queens looked exhilarated, but Sadie was a bit overwhelmed, especially after what the Techromancer had told her.

    The wetsuits fitting session passed in a blur, as the breathable elastic material was made to adapt to their bodies. Really, the only thing left to choose would have been color, but it was able to change itself at will, with very little shades it couldn’t replicate to perfection, even the Bollywood shine and twinkle that was all the craze in the 2019s.

    “But we’re in the 2222s now!”, Maurana had voiced her disapproval of her choice of glittery fashion. Little did Sadie care about it. Her mission seemed to stretch to sidetracks and unneeded distractions on her path to Great Happiness.

    All four of them clad in their fancy bathsuits and looking more like hippy frogs than sassy mermaids, they followed the robot on the miles-long deck that led to the horizon.

    After half an hour of walking on the narrow bridge, they were at a good distance from the coast and Terry started to pant and breathe heavily in her green sardine scales costume.
    “Stop! I got to catch my breathe, how long it’s going to be now? We were promised a soirée! Not a walk on the wild side!”

    The robot, rolled back a few steps, and turned briskly.
    “Actually, Sir, this is a perfect spot for your whale training”

    And before they realized, the robot had opened the deck under their feet, plunging all of them in the ocean screaming.

    Thanks to her excellent training and natural sharp reflexes, Sadie was the first to realize a few things.

    • They were all alive
    • They were able to breathe underwater
    • Their suit enabled them to talk and understand each other in what sounded like whale-speech.
    • A looming shape was quickly closing on them, looking dangerously like that of a giant toothy white shark.
    • Her mind was a mysterious thing.

    Why? Simply because the previous thought was coinciding with another one which was saying unequivocally that she still hadn’t found a proper dragqueen’s name for herself, and yet another one, even more funny than all others, saying in between bursts of infectious laughter that her last words could well be whale speech, and would make a hell of an epitaph.

    She floated for a time moment stretched into an eternity, weighing all the rippling probabilities and wondered what her next move would be, as she was in the void of creation, hovering under a vortex of thoughts, with a sea of twinkling stars beckoning her further down the ocean’s clear bottomless depths.

    #3254

    Ten meters in the aforementioned direction, after the light drizzle had stopped back to a wondrous sunny blue sky and slight freshening breeze, the robot was waiting for them.

    “Ms Merrie, I am your hosts’ robot, also at your service for the duration of your stay in 2222.”
    Maurana whispered not very subtly “and how are we supposed to call the tin can?” unaware of the sensitive remote hearing function of said tin can.
    “Monsieur can call me anything he likes, but my master usually calls me among many rude manners simply Varjis.”
    All three queens looked a bit offended
    “Did it call you Monsieur? How rude, your queen bikini was so fitting.”

    “As Ms Merrie mentioned, we will be late for the wetsuit fitting and the soirée on the coast, before our trip on the master’s submarine. If you would follow me.”

    #3252

    It started raining lightly on the hut and the queens found themselves woken up from what had seemed a very long dream conversation.
    “What just happened? What did he tell you?” Consuela asked.
    “All in good time” Sadie answered still processing the information.
    “Let’s go back to the beach, we will be late for the wetsuits fitting.”

    The ezapper’s GPS started to send new instructions. “In 10 meters turn left…”
    Then it added ominously “… at your peril”.

    #3233
    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      Introducing Sadie Merrie (Queens Team and 2121 originated time-travellers)

      Sadie enters the story in 2121. She is a new graduate from the Happiness Training Academy.

      What can I tell you about Sadie?

      She used to work as a pet food taster before she entered the Academy. Now she works as a private contractor, currently contracted by Linda Paul to do time travelling missions.

      She has a bob haircut.

      Sadie is not particularly good at her job but she does try hard to put her happiness training into practical use.

      She may have a twin sister, who is yet to be introduced. I will keep you posted.

      Introducing Irina and Mr R the Robot (Management team)

      Irina enters the story in January 2222 in a rendezvous at a B&B with Sanso. The connection with Sanso is not quite clear.

      She is one of the elite class of that time period and leads a pampered life with many benefits. Irina, however, is under the control of the mysterious Management. Her mission when she is introduced in the story is to prevent the time travelling team (Sadie and the drag queens) from successfully completing their mission to retrieve the crystal.

      Irina has a robot called Mr R

      #3215

      So this is 2222, thought Sadie, relaxing back in the warm sand. Not bad so far! I wonder where we are. Further along the beach she could hear the sound of laughter and bickering as the boys and Sanso practised their moves for the upcoming show—the details of which were still under wraps. Linda Paul, now she had sobered up, seemed to have forgotten her strange request for Sadie to take on a drag queen identity. ”Thank Flove!” Sanso, however, with unexpected enthusiasm had taken on the non de plume “Miss Titters” and insisted that he was going to join the 3 divas on stage for their closing number.

      “Miss Titters! A bit childish,” Sadie rolled her eyes, then noticing that it did not feel good to be judgemental, chastised herself. That didn’t feel good either so she chastised herself for chastising herself. Fortunately at that moment a Juicy Lemon came through on her e-zapper interrupting her rampage of chastisement with perfect synchronicity.

      Oh just release that little bird

      ***

      Irina perched on the edge of her antique Rocchetti sofa—a beautiful piece of furniture over 200 years old, made from faux fur and crafted in the shape of a cartoon bull—and looked critically at the hologram of her mermaid outfit rotating in the centre of the room.

      “What do you think, Mr R?”

      ”It is an exquisite piece of design engineering, Ma’am. The organ you see in the chest cavity can operate as a lung or a gill enabling you breathe as a human or to extract oxygen from the water. The circulatory system has been engineered to withstand different water pressures. The skeletal system is light and pliable and designed for speed and agility under the water. The eyes have been designed to ensure you will be able to correctly focus both above and under water. The intricate design of the ears means that you will be able to hear as a human above water or use sonar communication under water.”

      ”Yes, yes, most interesting, Mr R. But do you think my bum looks fat in that tail?”

      ”Not at all, Ma’am. Your figure is beautifully proportioned and the tail only accentuates your womanly curves.”

      ”I think that shade of pink is much better. What do you think, Mr R?”

      ”The carmine pink suits the undertones of your skin most favourably, ma’am. It is preferable to the cerise pink you chose earlier. Although that was an excellent choice too, of course”.

      ”Wonderful! Print it out then, Mr R. And print out your Octopus suit at the same time. I feel an unusual emotion which may even be excitement. Hawaii, here we come”

      #3206

      How many ways to stab a pea with a syringe? Jonbert woke up from his nap with the most peculiar question on his mind.
      At 153, he’d started to get those annoying narcoleptic fits. He would go down in a blink of an eye into a deep dreamless sleep, and wake up to the most embarrassing of situations.
      He felt like kicking someone, and mumbled under his breath “Just bloody once, before it gets puréed”.

      He could have sworn he heard one of the butler robots titter silly. Those darn robots were getting smarter every day, he would have to get them a good canning.
      But more pressing matter were on his mind, and he blisslessly ignored the wondrous display of flying manta rays around the eight-flippered submarine.

      Time-landing around Big Island was always tricky, he was glad the darned bots got this one right, tittering notwithstanding.
      Why so tricky, he could hear minds wonder. Why can’t those minds just read the bloody Time Traveling Manual! he exploded. The Island is expanding, creating new land every day. One miscalculation, and your expensive submarine would be enclosed in molten lava! How many times he had to repeat it.
      True enough, his temper had not improved with age, but that kept him alive well, thank you very much.

      That’s were they were supposed to collect the travelers, to entertain and train them a bit before leading them to the whale’s hotspot.
      He would have to remain discreet for now on, and the prospect of having to refrain swearing loudly at ghosts seen by anyone but himself got him nervous all of a sudden.

      :fleuron:

      They’d felt the Time Sewer get cleaned up, although it took a time to reach them. The frogs were paddling like crazy, and then the bubble reached them, propelling the jelly-bean shaped carriage like a rocket to their destination.

      “Brace yourseeeeeeelves!” Sanso sung in the key of F, ending the frogs’ symphony with a perfect 5th.

      “The mind has a tendency to forget unpleasant things…” Sadie was saying to the queens in a way to soothe their increasingly worried faces “It will be over in a minute”.
      The last part didn’t get them any less worried.

      #3204

      Linda Paul was reviewing the leather-bound copy of the anthology of Walt van Wharff works she’d received weeks ago from an anonymous source. Van Wharff was apparently from XVIIth century in Newherland a leading authority in walvissen wetenschap or whalology as it were.
      Linda wasn’t really even remotely interested in whales, but the book had picked her curiosity, or more exactly, the pink post-it on it, signed with a glitter lipstick lips mark, on which was written in some mysterious handwriting PBWY AND BO if you see that dearie, you know what it means

      She had no clue what it was about, but the antique book had some interesting qualities, and she soon had found herself inexplicably engrossed in its reading.
      The theory behind it was baffling, dealing with whale sightings, aperiodic tiling and crystal diffraction, but she managed to intuit that it had to do with detection of whale migratory patterns.

      Given the literary quality of the book (or lack thereof) and his very confuse language constructs, its author was by no doubt dead in a state of miserable unfamousness. Notwithstanding, Linda Paul understood there was an unfinished equation that would reveal when they would appear next, which was likely to reveal a huge crystal of exotic properties.
      So long as it glittered, she was already hooked onto that quest.

      A few investigations and equations-solving on her ezapper later, she had found the next coordinates that she’d texted to her only current operatives, Sadie and her misfits.
      She hoped they wouldn’t sabotage this one, and thus offer them all a second chance to book a full season for their adventures.

      #3191
      Jib
      Participant

        The next morning, Linda Paul consulted her mailbox. Seventy three messages. She had a nervous laugh. ‘Incredible’, she thought as she sifted through the mails. More and more incompetence, that was all there was in the mails. The maintenance team had been unable to unclog the time sewers. They were writing mails after mails to show that they were working. Linda Paul felt an urge to answer back ‘Stop writing mail and work!’ But instead she remembered the Love and Shine training she went with Sadie last month. “Breath in, deeply, blink three times slowly, and exhale”, she said inwardly. Already she felt better.

        They didn’t have much time, which was a bit of a paradox considering that they had a time sewer at their disposal, but the more it stayed clogged, the more difficult it would be to find the precise way out.

        She put on her blue and silver work suit. It really fitted her. Doubled with artificial mouse fur, very warm and good for qi circulation. She had silvery stripes added to make it more queen-like. She chose her platform boots carefully, she didn’t want to get too muddy nor stay stuck in the time muck.

        The time sewer central hub was not at the bar. This was merely one of the numerous available entry points. It was hidden in the calanques near Aubagne. She had to drive her Subaru SUV to go there. Which was not an easy task with platform boots. When she arrived on site, she realized the work team was not there. She squinted her eyes. That was suspicious. Who was sending the mails if nobody was doing anything ?

        She went to the hub and almost puked before she could get close enough to see what was inside. The smell was terrible, all the scum of the ages seemed to have disgorged here. She found a gas mask, which fit perfectly once she had gotten rid of her Darco Barbane meringue wig. She saw her face in the side mirror of a truck. She looked a bit like Bobba Fet. She pushed away the irritation to have to go to such length with her pride to have the work done.

        It was much better with the mask, she realized. So it was a small price to pay to the drag-style. When she arrived to the hub, it looked worse than she had imagined. The edge of the sewer hub was covered in white moss, which seemed to be pulsating slowly. She thanked her Love and Shine training once again, it helped her keep her smile on as she went on. What she saw next alarmed her. A few people were lying there, unconscious. Yet, some of them were wearing masks. Not a good idea to go further.

        She’d always been proud of her quick wit. It had helped her a lot when guys were mocking her wigs at school. Now she needed it for another kind of life threatening situation. She looked around, trucks, barracks, more people on the floor, a ginger cat licking its balls… she laughed nervously. Strange that the cat didn’t seem affected. She noted that somewhere in her mind, she might need it later. Then she saw exactly what she needed. The dildo truck. She never remembered the real name, but it sure looked like a giant dildo in the front of a truck. She didn’t know what was its real use of course, but years of gauging the size of men’s attributes allowed her to see that it fitted perfectly the sewer hub.

        “Hard on, ladies”, she thought as she climbed in the front seat, saying a silent prayer to all the Queens of all ages. She started the truck and began to move. She had the weirdest impression to understand what it mean to think with your dick. She stopped the truck, facing the sewer hole with her dildo. She noticed a small red button on the dashboard, it had a tag on it which read “lubricant”. She pushed it several times and nothing happened. Go to hell, she thought.
        Then the queen revved up the truck. “Love and Shine, biiiitches”, she said as a mantra, and let it all go.

        The mind has a tendency to forget unpleasant things. All she could remember was that she had to get in and out several times. And that nasty suction noise. But in the end, she could clean wash the white moss with the water jet incorporated in the truck. She turned the sewer back on and threw the gas mask in the hole to check it. As good as new, and the smell was gone too. Her incredible memory allowed her to register that the cat as well was gone.

        #3190
        Jib
        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.

          #3181

          Out-of-body invisible to-anyone-but-spirits Geoffrey was looking amazed at the scene in front of him. He was back in the Chapelle near his body when he witnessed the fit, which translated to him in French like “merde, merde, merdasse, merdum, merdarum” and latin-like declination of the word.

          Some unspoken words of wisdom seemed to superimpose on the scene from many voices which roughly translated as “don’t say poop if you mean to say shit”.

          As an actor, this was easy, he just had to follow the script, but as himself, he often bit his tongue when he wanted to say to Lison that she was hamming up the play just for fear to hurt her feelings being the star of the play (or to avoid creating even bigger bickering amongst the troupe).
          When he’d wake up, he felt like encouraging Francette to be more daring on the stage and let her light shine bright. That should even the odds.

          #3174
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            “Frindle, is Geoffroy alright?” asked Trumble. “He seems to be muttering that peculiar gibberish again, is he having another one of his turns?”
            “It’s his control issues again, Trumble, he’ll get over it. I think he’s already seeing the green light. He’s having trouble seeing each moment as discrete, with it’s own back story, each story entry as a picnic basket, complete with it’s own history and associations. Each picnic basket is a piece of the puzzle, but they may not fit immediately together, and I think that’s what troubles him.”
            “As usual, you’ve hit the nail on the head, Frindle. Funny how it all seems like deja vu, doesn’t it?”
            “Trusting that the invisible connecting links are seamlessly interwoven even if they are not apparent is not for the faint hearted” added Jingle, “It would behoove us to remember that we all struggle at times to fit the pieces together. Which is why this is all such a beneficial exercise.”
            “True enough, Jingle” replied Trumble. “Many’s the time I’ve had a mad scramble to find a connecting link and make it fit.”
            “And many’s the time you’ve fucked up but by not paying attention, Trumble” Frindle pointed out.
            “Ah, but that’s because I’ve been paying attention to another aspect instead, you rude tart” retorted Trumble.

            #3156
            Jib
            Participant

              Sadie almost had a fit when she received the models for their party attire. Blue, Red and Yellow, cork bums bigger than whales’ head and, that was a surprise, instead of wigs, three cornered hats looking like a galley with oars. She sent a message to Linda Paul.
              “There must be a mistake, we are supposed not to create ripples through time by introducing…” she thought about the right words… “new fashion trends”.
              The e-zapper buzzed as the answer arrived.
              “Sorry sweety, those were the only outfits available at the moment. They came directly from China. Cheap, cheap. Crisis for everyone. I’m sure you understand, Sadie darling.”

              Sadie thought of a diplomatic way to tell the news to her proteges. The hell with China, she thought. They were in the very time period that inspired the Queens for all the wigs and the fancy dresses that would come with Marie-Antoinette. They just had to be creative and follow the thread of maids to help them steal some more interesting clothes.

              #3153

              Reginald gaped in amazement at the brainwave that had struck Sadie. Poor thing, he thought, she seemed to have these fits sometimes, where she would hang on a word, frozen in time for minutes, and then resuming as if nothing had happened.
              He snapped his fingers in front of Sadie, but she remained motionless. Pity, he thought, there would be none of the delicious crocodile eggs poached from the Menagerie left when she would come back to her senses…

              #3126
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                “Is this a breach of time travelling protocol?” wondered Sadie. “Strictly speaking timewise, cork bums aren’t fashionable for another twenty years or so.”
                “Well, I suppose that’s how trendsetters operate normally, how else would fashions change?” snapped Conseula, whose heart was set on a new Gilles Culeau bum. “And if you think I’m going to settle for the sheeps head wig currently popular, when those gorgeous elaborate confections of jewels and feathers are just a decade away, you’ve got another think coming!”
                “I do think it would be wise to wait until we get there first before deciding on costumes, so that we fit in, you know, stay inconspicuous. Not only that, but are all these bums and whalebone hoops going to fit through the tunnel?”
                “Incon fucking spicuous? Us? In this timeframe? Are you completely mad?” retorted Consuela. “Not fucking likely! Say, Chair, can you recommend a wig shop?”
                Sadie sighed, and hoped the tunnel was very wide, and very high.

                #3125

                Maurana was starting to feel queasy in the lurching carriage, and asked Sanso to rein in the zebras so that she could step outside for a moment. As soon as the steaming animals clattered to a stop, Maurana threw open the door and skittered down the steps, and issued forth a long mustard coloured ribbon of projectile vomit that draped the hedgerow like a garland.
                “Darling, that gorgeous mustard colour goes so well with the wild roses, I really must have a gown in those colours!” said Conseula, who was still planning her new oufits. “A rose gown with mustard ribbon garlands, and a whalebone corset and hoops of course. I say, Chair, where did you get your cork bum from?” she added, as the footman climbed down from atop the barrel of champagne to stretch his legs.
                “From the best bum cutter in France, Gilles Culeau. He has a secret recipe for the most comfortable bums you can buy, and in my job, you need a comfy bum. He uses a special outer casing of cork, and stuffs it with ferret fur, for extra warmth and comfortable padding ~ not like those cheap solid cork bums you find in Paris. Culeau’s bums are made from the finest imported Seville cork…”
                “Where is his shop, I simply must have one ~ do shut up that ghastly retching Maurana ~ where Chair, can I procure a Gilles Culeau bum?”
                “Well this is your lucky day, bichet, because he has an establishment in the hamlet at the entrance to the tunnel.”
                Maurana, if you’re quite done with that vile spectacle, will you get back in the carriage. We’re going bum shopping, toot! toot!”

                #3118
                Jib
                Participant

                  Maurana found it difficult to climb in the coach with her 6” Goochi platform shoes. Golden intricate patterns on a red velvet. The first time she saw them on Internet, she immediately thought of Dorothy. What couldn’t she do with these shoes, she had thought. Where couldn’t she go ? She hadn’t thought of time travel at the time. Now the when couldn’t she go question seemed to be part of the shoes. She sat on the narrow seat, the one in the back. Sitting in that dark little coach, knees almost touching her face, the proud drag armor began to melt away, letting appear the insecurity of a teenager through the cracks.
                  The teenager wondered for a moment if he had bumped his skull on the steel frame of the sewer and was dreaming, or maybe he was dead. He looked at his two friends, Consuela/Cedric was desperately trying to find the network with his phone, trying to reach his mother again. He was always trying to reach his mother when in doubt.
                  Terry was climbing in the coach, apparently still herself as a drag. She seemed to be quite comfortable.

                  “I can’t believe we’re going to meet the Queen”, she said with a thrill. She sat near Maurana, trying to make her false bum fit in the narrow seat. Her knees were also dangerously near her chin. “We’ll have to find new wigs and dresses, more suitable for the circumstances”, she said with glitter in her eyes. “I’m so glad we are in this adventure together, you, Consuela and meeeeeee!!” She kissed Maurana on the cheek and the lost Queen was back on her Goochies.

                  Sadie got back in and looked at her e-zapper for a few seconds. “Tell your friend to get in. We have company. The Russians have sent their own team to retrieve the ferrets.”

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