Search Results for 'glared'

Forums Search Search Results for 'glared'

Viewing 14 results - 41 through 54 (of 54 total)
  • Author
    Search Results
  • #3196

    “Are we nearly there yet?” asked Fanella, who was easily bored. The balloon had been drifting steadily westwards for almost two days. It had been decidedly chilly at that altitude, but the occupants had kept themselves warm with lashings of champagne and cognac and hard boiled eggs (much to HuHu’s disgust), thanks to Boris’s basket of provisions, but they had drained the last drops several hours ago.
    “We will have to land soon to replenish our supplies” said the practical Boris. “We have a long way to go yet, and we will soon be flying over the sea.”
    Perfect! thought Pseu, I will have an opportunity to acquire a bleu and white Quimper tile for my collection for the Folly in the City.
    “But it’s almost dark, Boris, can we land this thing in the dark?” asked Adeline.
    “It will be a perfect time to land, under the cloak of darkness. We don’t want to be attacked by superstitious peasants brandishing pitchforks.”
    “Oh splendid, will we be doing a spot of raping and pillaging?” asked Igor, cheering up at the thought.
    Mirabelle glared at him. “Pillaging, yes. Just the supplies that we need, and then back to the balloon!”

    #2715

    In reply to: Strings of Nines

    TracyTracy
    Participant

      “It has been metaphysically proven” (Mandrake snorted rather rudely, interrupting Arona’s retort) “That cheap copies sold in markets are just as effective as brand name products.” Arona glared at the cat and continued, “The only difference is in the mind of the buyer. In fact, one could go so far as to say ~ although one wouldn’t, normally ~ that buyers of brand name products are…”

      “Don’t say it!!” shouted Mandrake, looking anxiously over his shoulder, “Don’t say it!”

      Arona stopped in her tracks, wondering what on earth was the matter with Mandrake.

      #2690

      In reply to: Strings of Nines

      Evangeline Spiggot sat outside the DDT bosses office, nervously twiddling her pony tail. She had no idea why she’d been summoned, but the tone of the memo was ominous. Eventually her boss, The Right Honourable B. F. Deale, was ready to see her.

      “What ho!” said Evangeline, in an effort to sound breezy and efficient.

      B.F. Deale glared. “Can you explain yourself?” he asked grimly.

      “Why, yes, sir! Sumari belonging, Ilda aligned, politic….”

      “I’m talking about DDT!” he shouted. “You’ve been diverting all our disaster damage calls to that ridiculous channeling show!”

      “Ah” she replied, “Yes, well, it seemed much more fun.”

      “Ah” replied B.F. Deale, momentarily non plussed. When he’d finsished unnecesarily shuffling some papers around on his desk, he continued. “Well, what about the disaster damage team? Hhhm? How are they supposed to, er, deal with disasters if they don’t even know about them?”

      Evangeline paused, giving the impression that she was deep in thought. In actual fact, she was deep in no thought, due to the influence of the Dead Dick Tracy channeled messages.

      “Well, sir, perhaps this indicates a changing trend towards having more fun and less disasters? Perhaps we could diversify, start our own Fun Department?”

      “By George, I think you’re on to something, Spiggot! I will hire someone to investigate this trend.”

      “Might I suggest Blithe Gambol, P.I.? Very hightly recommended, so I hear.”

      #2269
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        “Any idea what this is all about?” Beattie asked, to nobody in particular. A crowd was gathering at the crossroad.

        The crossroad reminded Bea of a movie she’d watched some years previously, called, coincidentally enough, Crossroads. A symbolic sort of place, although real enough, a junction seemingly in the middle of nowhere. There was a large oak tree looming above the intersection, but nothing else could be seen in any direction but endless expanses of fields. There was a wooden signpost, the old fashioned kind, with two slats of wood pinned crosswise in the middle to a leaning post, but the place names had long since weathered away.

        It was an odd sort of place and not much traffic passed by. In fact, the only traffic to pass by the crossroad stopped and disengorged itself of passengers..

        “Is that a word, Bea?” asked Leonora. “Disengorged?”

        “Don’t butt in to the narrative part Leo, or the story won’t make any sense.” hisssed Beattie, “Wait until you’re supposed to speak as one of the characters.”

        “Well alright, but I don’t suppose it will have much effect on the making sense aspect, either way. Do continue.”

        To say it was a motley crew gathering would be an understatement.

        “You got that right,” Leonora said, sotto voce, surupticiously scanning the assortment of individuals alighting from the rather nautical looking yellow cab. Bea glared at Leo. “I suppose I’ll have to include your interrupions as a part of the story now.”

        “Good thinking, Batman!”

        “Oh for Pete’s sake, Leo, don’t go mad with endless pointless remarks then, ok? Or I will delete you altogether, and that will be the end of it.”

        “You can’t delete me. I exist as a character, therefore I am.”

        “You might have a nasty accident though and slide off the page,” Bea replied warningly.

        “Why don’t you just get on with it, Bea? Might shut me up, you never know…”. Leo smirked and put her ridiculously large sunglasses on, despite the swirling fog..

        “Oh I thought it was sunny” said Leonora, taking her sunglasses back off again. “You hadn’t mentioned weather.” She put her sunglasses back on again anyway, the better to secretly examine the others assembled at the crossroads.

        “Why don’t you go and introduce yourself to them and see if anyone knows why we’re here, Leo, while I get on with the story.”

        “Who will write what they say, though?”

        “I’ll add it later, just bugger off and see if anyone knows who sent us that mysterious invitation.”

        “Right Ho, sport, I’m on the bobbins and lace case” replied Leo. Bea shuddered a bit at the mixture of identities bleeding through Leonora’s persona. “Och aye the noo!”

        Dear god, thought Beattie, I wish I’d never started this.

        :yahoo_straight_face:

        #2609

        In reply to: Strings of Nines

        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          Tina sneezed loudly and Becky glared at her.

          Cover your face when you sneeze, she said snarkily. I don’t want your bloody flu.

          #1289
          F LoveF Love
          Participant

            Arona flung her paintbrush to the ground in a fit of rage.

            Oy Missy, you be careful with that! Talk about ungrateful! Don’t expect any more of MY whiskers for your next brush! tutted Mandrake disapprovingly.

            I’m USELESS! she shouted dramatically, I GIVE UP!

            Does that mean i can put my clothes back on? Vincentius queried tentatively. It’s a bit on the chilly side now the sun has gone.

            Arona glared at him. You stay where you are! she snarled.

            :fleuron:

            A moment later she sighed and, bending down slowly, picked up the brush from ground where she had flung it.

            Sorry Vincentius.

            And someone else you would like to apologise to perhaps? queried Mandrake, raising an elegant eyebrow. And, might I remind you dear Arona, I seem to remember you saying something about fun?

            #1006

            Bea sighed loudly, and dragged a tissue across her sweaty face. Leonora obviously hadn’t heard her, so Bea sighed loudly again.

            What’s up with you now? asked Leo, who wasn’t really paying attention to Bea’s incessant whining.

            Oh I dunno, I just don’t know what I want to do, Bea grumbled. My head’s in a fog. I’ve got hundreds of ideas, but I don’t want to do any of them badly enough to even think about starting anything. So then I try to sort a few thing out, you know, so I can bloody find things again, and I just end up with a big pile of bloody miscellaneous. It’s the bane of my life, all the miscellaneous stuff that defies categorizing. I should have been called Miss A. Laneous. I start to sort things out and then I get sidetracked; I never finish any sorting out, I just end up with more and more miscellaneous….her voice trailed off miserably.

            Leo swiveled round in the computer chair, took off her glasses and glared at Bea. Bea, you know you always find what you need by trusting that you’ll find what you need when you need to find it. You’ve told me that time and time again. You’ve droned on and on about that, how you love finding ‘just the thing’ and ‘by accident’ and now you’re sitting there moaning and groaning because for some inexplicable reason ~ Leonora rolled her eyes ~ you think that having things neatly ordered would be a better way.

            Well, it would be nice to be able to find what I’m looking for, Leo, Bea retorted.

            Well if you found what you were looking for right away, you silly cow, you wouldn’t find all those other magical bloody surprises by friggen accident, now would you?

            There’s no need to be rude, Bea said sniffily.

            Now it was Leo’s turn to sigh. Why don’t you bugger off outside and find something to appreciate, you grumpy old bat. “Oh! look at this, Bea!” Leo exclaimed, “Look what I just found by accident!”

            Leo swiveled the computer screen round so that her friend could see.

            Illi sat up and surveyed her surroundings. The sky was a deep azure blue, the sun was making twinkling stars on the waters of the lagoon, a warm gentle breeze rustled the coconut palm leaves, and birds sang and twittered in the foliage. It was indeed idyllic, and Illi decided to simply enjoy it, while her new ideas formed into a reality.

            Illi was enjoying a new found freedom in her contentment, in not pushing her energy in frustration, and meandered happily around the island taking mental snapshots of a thousand delightful and marvelous wonders, appreciating even the smallest most insignificant things. Time lost all sense of meaning: there were deep velvet indigo skies full of sequins, and there were abstract multicoloured sunrises and sunsets; there were cottonwool clouds in cartoon shapes suspended on a canvas of blue. It mattered not the day or night; there was no longer a sense of time passing, just a glorious collage of appreciation and beauty.”

            Bea read the excerpt reluctantly, and harumphed.

            Oh for Gut’s sake, Bea! Leo was getting exasperated. Try appreciating miscellaneous floundering fog then.

            #949
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              They don’t do much though Sam, do they? said Tina, looking quizzically at the sleeping infants and just managing to repress the urge to prod one of them in order to wake it.

              Sam did not appear to be overly bothered. He was making strange cooing noises and waving a toy Lemur in the air in front of the cribs.

              He glared at Tina. Shush Tina! Do you have no maternal instincts at all? Sleeping or not, they take everything in. Do you know that baby crocodiles talk to each other even from inside the egg? He shook his head in exasperation.

              Don’t mind that mean old Tinipooh, he said gently to the babies. Uncle Sam will play you some nice soothing didgereedoo.

              Tina laughed, kissed Sam affectionately, and made a hasty exit. Not that she didn’t enjoy the didgereedoo, of course.

              #818

              Veranassessee was not in a happy mood.

              The sight earlier in the day of Dr Bronkelhampton wearing his yellow wig, a bright pink dress which was several sizes too large for him, and carrying a chinese porcelain doll had disturbed her profoundly. She sighed, remembering how he had glared at her suspiciously and muttered to the doll he was holding in front of him as though it were some sort of a shield.

              He has totally lost it, but what to do?

              She had also spent much of the morning trying to avoid Sha and Glor. The pair seemed rather distressed about something … a missing dress was it? Veranassessee shook her head in annoyance. Good grief! She had neither the time nor the patience to deal with another of their foolish and pitiful concerns.

              Perhaps I should tell those stupid nincompoops that to get hit on the head with a coconut is another special beauty treatment.

              To top it off, Agent Gabriel kept slipping into her thoughts in a most disconcerting and bothersome manner. And where the hell is he anyway? she thought miserably, cringing at the memory of their last encounter. Avoiding me, no doubt.

              Bugger! she swore, suddenly remembering the arrival of the new guests and feeling a growing sense of foreboding.

              :fleuron:

              Twenty minutes later the disturbing vision of a fat woman in a tiny pink bikini waving at her gleefully did nothing to dispel her concerns.

              #751

              Why you supercilious little prout! said the Mummy

              Steady on Sasha, I don’t think I deserve that. I am a great believer in personal choice. You chose to be part of my experiments didn’t you? Did anyone force you to come here? His voice started to raise petulently. Are you a victim Sasha? Just because one small thing went wrong, an accident, no more and no less.

              If it wasn’t for these damn bandages I would laugh.

              Dr Bronkelhampton threw his hands in the air in vexation. Try and see the big picture Sasha dear. How many times have I told you now? My God we have been through this over and over again. Are you listening Sasha? All you can think about is yourself and your own petty little life. You are dead, you need to accept this and move on.

              Silence.

              Sasha? … Talk to me Sasha dear one.

              Dr Bronkelhampton? Nurse Bellamy tapped lightly on the office door, and entered cautiously. She could hear Chris talking to himself, again. It was nothing new, he spent hours closeted in his office lately. Though today she started in shocked surprise when she saw him, the yellow wig from the early days of the clinic was perched precariously on top of his bald head, garish make-up roughly applied, yet not hiding the dark blue circles under his blood-shot eyes.

              He glared at her. Can you not see I am with a client, Nurse Bellamy?

              She cast her eyes reflexively around the small office, although she did not need to look. It was bare save for a pot plant and that dreadful mummy propped up in the corner of the room.

              I am worried about you, Chris.

              He slammed his fist on the desk and turned away from her, staring moodily out the window.

              Nurse Bellamy’s face reddened with emotion, she struggled to hold back her tears as all the anxiety of the last week threatened to overwhelm her. She reminded herself of the words of her dear nursing tutor Edwardo Lemenox. Always remember your calling as a nurse. When the road seems difficult, take a deep breath and remind yourself you are perfect.

              She took a deep breath.

              I am sorry, I mean Dr Bronkelhampton … I need to inform you that three new clients are expected tomorrow …. and we have two here waiting for their treatment to start … and I can’t entertain them for much longer, they are getting restless. Veranassessee is up to no good, and, Nurse Bellamy pursed her lips for a moment in annoyance .. and now she has a gentleman friend here.

              Dr Bronkelhampton turned towards her quickly, the wig falling off in the process, She has a gentleman friend? Here on the island? Who?

              Nurse Bellamy’s face reddened even more as she remembered her encounter with the drop-dead gorgeous stranger, the way he had looked into her eyes as he asked where he might find Veranassessee, goodness, she had nearly dropped her coconuts.

              #596
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Poêléed foie gras, goat tagine, roquette fig salad, sherry trifle, serrano ham, lobster in ginger…..

                Manon was going over her holiday menu and lists, wondering how on earth she would manage to cater for all tastes. What a houseful it was going to be.

                …..scallion soy sauce, steak and kidney pie, wild mushroom soup, ostrich fillets with dauphine potatoes, rhubarb crumble….

                …..Cuthbert! OY! Manon grabbed the boy as he rushed past grabbing a hot mince pie on his way to the stables.

                Here, take this with you, she said, thrusting a basket towards him, crushing the pastry he was clutching, and spilling hot mince all over his hand.

                AAArrgghh! MaNON! Cuthbert licked his burnt palm and glared at the cook.

                Manon gave him a swift slap round the back of the head and said, That’s your own bloody fault for nicking it in the first place. Go and pick the mushrooms for the soup, and some rhubarb for the crumble, and bring me some greens, too.

                Cuthbert groaned, But MaNON……..

                Bugger off and do it! Ask that Bill to help you, he just went outside, hurry and you’ll catch him.

                #476

                Ted Marshall swaggered into the saloon and ordered a tequila. He adopted a casual pose against the bar, tipped his pith helmet back with one casual finger, and surveyed the scene. He cast a disninterested glance over the dancers, and tut tutted under his breath when he recognized Twilight. That girl was too big for her scuffed boots!

                A charismatic character caught Ted’s eye, a handsome man in a stylishly crumpled white linen suit, stretched taut against his bulging biceps. Success, drive and determination seemed to exude from his very pores, the slick sheen of raw power.

                Ted edged himself closer to the larger than life character, and glared at the tall lean man who had just walked in.

                #393
                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  ARONA MEETS THE NANNY

                  Dreamily Arona wandered away from the cave, gently holding the sleeping Yikesy close to her heart. Mandrake the cat followed, elegantly attempting to convey the impression he was there by mere chance, and by some stroke of fortune happened to be heading in the same direction.

                  Arona had no clear idea where she was going, or what her intentions were even. Still this was nothing new for Arona, who was a bit of an aimless wanderer really herself at heart. She pretended she was looking for magic, but really, she wasn’t so sure anymore what she was looking for.

                  Wooha!

                  Arona was momentarily rendered speechless by a vison up ahead. The most beautiful creature she had ever seen sat no more than 5 dragon-lengths up ahead.
                  .
                  Mandrake, she eventually whispered when she had regained her composure, What is this miracle ahead? Is this some maiden’s dream? A heavenly creature come to earth perhaps?

                  A miracle sent by God to save you? suggested Mandrake

                  His near naked body a masterpiece of bronzed skin pulled taut over rippling muscles.

                  Steady on Arona, said Mandrake

                  But you know I am no hapless fool Mandrake, to swoon over a handsome stranger.

                  No, indeed. And might I enquire why for art we art speaking so oddly? asked Mandrake

                  Buggered if I know, answered Arona

                  Despite the bravado she managed to display at times, Arona was very shy, and would never have had the confidence to approach such a godlike creature. However at that moment Yikesy started to cry loudly. The god looked up from his silent reverie and smiled.

                  Oh a baby, he said in a deep melodic voice. I love babies. He came bounding athletically over and gazed down at Yikesy. My, that is an endearingly ugly baby.

                  This is Arona, stuttered Arona, I mean I am Arona, and this is Yikesy, and this is .. Arona looked blankly at Mandrake

                  Mandrake looked unhelpfully back at her, with a rather sarcastic little smile on his face.

                  I am delighted to meet you. Vincentius at your service. May I hold Arona for a few moments?

                  Oh I am sure that could be arranged, snorted Mandrake.

                  Arona glared at Mandrake and decided the time had come to pull herself together. I am so sorry for the misunderstanding, she said charmingly to Vincentius. The baby’s name is Yikesy. And certainly you may hold him for a moment.

                  Vincentius held Yikesy in his strong arms as though he had been cradling little babies all his life.

                  Look this is probably a silly question but you aren’t after a nanny by any chance? Oh no of course you aren’t, said Vincentius, apologetically, seeing the amazed expression on Arona’s face. I am so sorry, just wishful thinking on my part. Please forget I said anything and forgive me for my impudence.

                  Well actually, said Arona, frantically attempting to remain calm, I really have no idea how to look after this baby and I did have a bit of an idea a nanny might be quite useful.

                  Well this is a fortuitous meeting indeed then!

                  But I can’t afford to pay you, she said sadly, unconsciously fiddling with her hair and fluttering her long thick eyelashes.

                  Oh don’t worry about that small detail. I am sure we can come to some sort of mutually beneficial arrangement, and Vincentius winked at her.

                  Arona drew herself up to her full height, firmly took Yikesy back and said; I will have you know if you are going to wink at me this can’t possibly work. I have no idea what a wink means. You will have to speak clearly if you have something to say to me.

                  OH bugger bugger bugger! thought Arona. What is it with me and winking. Now I have blown it. BUGGER.

                  But Vincentius just laughed good naturedly, and musically too of course. Perhaps we will just play it by ear then shall we? I am delighted to be your new Nanny :yahoo_big_hug:.

                  #362

                  Give it to me Arona. I’ll look after it. Sanso wondered if he was making the right decision.

                  (Becky wondered if she was making the right decision. Well never mind, she thought, I can edit it out later if I change my mind)

                  Arona glared at him, but handed the tiny bundle over to Sanso. He stared into the little blue eyes and fell in love with the baby. Poor wee mite, he said, bandied about like this like a baton in a relay race. I’ll look after you. The baby gurgled and Sanso had a strange feeling that the baby was in fact choosing to be with him, and that he had just agreed.

                Viewing 14 results - 41 through 54 (of 54 total)