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  • #6133

    In reply to: Tart Wreck Repackage

    “Will you look at these prices!” exclaimed one of the middle aged ladies.

    Privately, Tara called them the miserable old bag and the crazy old witch, or Mob and Cow for ease of reference. Anyway, it was Mob who was banging on about the prices.

    “Feel free to take yourself somewhere cheaper to eat,” she snarled.

    “Oh, no, that’s okay, as long as you’re happy paying these outrageous prices.”

    Cow cackled. “I’ve not eaten for a month so bugger the prices! Not that I need to eat, airs good enough for me seeing as I have special powers. Still, a raspberry bun wouldn’t go amiss. Thank you, Ladies!”

    Star sighed heavily and glanced reproachfully at Rosamund.

    “Sorry, I were trying to help,” she said with a shrug.

    Tara scanned the room. The only other people in the cafe were an elderly gentleman reading the newspaper and a bedraggled mother with two noisy snot-bags in tow. Tara shuddered and turned her attention to the elderly man. “Those deep wrinkles and wasted muscles look genuine,” she whispered to Star. “There’s nobody here who could possibly be Vince French. I’m going to go and keep watch by the door.”

    “Good thinking,” said Star, after covertly checking her Lemoon quote of the day app on her phone; she realised uneasily she was increasingly relying on it for guidance. “There’s a sunny seat over there; I’ll grab a coffee and look inconspicuous by doing nothing. I don’t want to blow our cover.”

    Tara glared at her. “I saw you checking your app! What did the oracle say?”

    “Oh, just some crazy stuff.” She laughed nervously. “There is some kind of peace in not feelign like there’s anythign to do.

    “Well that’s not going to get us far, is it now?”

    #6131

    In reply to: Tart Wreck Repackage

    “It’s Thursday today,” remarked Star.

    “Special subject the bloody obvious?” Tara replied rudely.   “You should be on Mastermind.”

    “Well, we were wondering what we were going to do to pass the time until Thursday, and here we are. It’s Thursday!”

    “Are you losing your marbles?”

    “Actually it’s you losing your memory,” Star sighed.  “Remember the case?”

    “What case?”

    “The case we were working on!”

    “Oh, that case! Well you can hardly expect me to remember that when it’s been such a strange week!” Tara was starting to get tearful and agitated.

    “Look, Tara, the tests came back negative. You can stop worrying about it now.  We can go back to normal now and carry on. And just in time for the rendezvous at the cafe on Main Street.” Star patted Tara’s arm encouragingly.  “And what timing! If the results hadn’t come back yet, or we’d tested positive, we wouldn’t have been able to go to the cafe.”

    “Well we could have gone and just not said anything about the tests,” sniffed Tara.  “Everyone else seems to be doing what they want regardless.”

    “Yes, but we’re not as morally bankrupt as them,” retorted Star.

    Tara giggled. “But we used to work for Madame Limonella.”

    “That’s an entirely different kind of morals,” Star replied, but chose not to pursue the issue. She was relieved to see Tara’s mood lighten.  “What are you going to wear to the cafe?”

    “Is it a fancy dress party? I could wear my plague doctor outfit.”

    Star rolled her eyes. “No! We have to dress appropriately, something subtle and serious.  A dark suit perhaps.”

    “Oh like my Ace of Spades T shirt?”

    This is going nowhere fast, Star thought, but then had a revelation.  A moment later, she had forgotten what the revelation was when the door burst open.

    “Ta Da!” shouted Rosamund, entering the office with two middle aged ladies in tow.  “I nabbed them both, they were lurking in the queue for the food bank! And I single handedly brought then back.  Can we talk about my bonus now?”

    Both Tara and Star were frowning at the two unfamiliar ladies. “Yes but who are these two middle aged ladies?”

    One of the ladies piped up, “She said you’d be taking us out for afternoon tea at a nice cafe!”

    The other one added, “We haven’t eaten for days, we’re starving!”

    “But neither of you is April!” exclaimed Tara.

    The first middle aged lady said, “Oh no dear, it’s September. I’m quite sure of that.”

    #6129

    In reply to: Tart Wreck Repackage

    “Clearly,what we do next, my friend, is free the middle-aged lady,” Tara smiled smugly.”First rule, notwithstanding that I hate rules, if you don’t know what to do, do what you do know what to do, even if you don’t want to do it because at least you’ve done something.”

    “Is that a Lemone quote?” asked Star. “Haven’t heard much of him lately.”

    “No, I made it up myself.”

    “Oh, well … I’m too tired to do anything.You do it, Tara.”

    “No, you do it! Lazy tart.”

    “I’ll do it!” says Rosamund, appearing from nowhere and bounding over to the wardrobe. “I want to borrow her lippy again.” She tugged at the door. “It seems to be stuck.”

    “Let Star try,” said Tara. “She goes to the gym.”

    “It does seem to be rather stuck,” said Star said after a few minutes of fruitless tugging. She knocked on the door of the wardrobe. “Excuse me, are you there? Excuse me … dreadfully sorry about all this.” There was no reply.

    “Dead,” said Tara. “Darn it.”

    Undaunted, Star tried again. After a particularly spirited tug, the door flew open and Star fell backwards. “She’s gone! But she left a note. Thank you, Ladies for your hospitality. This is a clue. At 4pm Thursday, go to the cafe on Main street. Vince French will be there..”

    Tara gasped. “Who was she? That seemingly innocuous middle-aged lady.”

    “Perhaps we will never know,” said Star.

    #6121

    In reply to: Tart Wreck Repackage

    “Now then ladies, what’s all this about?” The burly bouncer appeared, blocking the doorway.

    “Look!” hissed Tara, showing him the tattoo on April’s shoulder.  “This!”

    “Nice tattoo!” he said appreciatively.  “Why, I even have one myself just like it!”

    “On your buttock?” asked Star incredulously.

    “Why you cheeky thing,” replied the bouncer with a smile. “No, as it happens it’s on my ankle.  I left the cult before I reached buttock bell bird status.”

    “Wait, what? What cult?”

    “The same cult as you were in,” he said, turning to April. “Am I right?”

    “I don’t know what you mean,” stammered April, reddening.

    “What the hell is going on!” shouted Tara.  “Are we the only ones NOT in the damn cult?”

    “Looks like it” smirked the waitress, pulling her blouse up to reveal a bell bird tattoo on her belly.

    “That’s it, I’ve had enough of this! I’m going back to the wardrobe!” exclaimed Star.

    The bouncer and the waitress exchanged glances. “Unwoke sheeple losing their minds,” the waitress said knowingly.

    “Oh my fucking god,” Tara said, close to tears.

    #6111

    In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

    TracyTracy
    Participant

      thought cult ask nice

      soon lack aunt garden

      half understand tea fancy

      finger snoot boredom

      mad mind matter ladies

      young sun

      waiting crazy sorry

      worry seems nice rosamund

      fresh local mind

      mad strong character

      luck fact enjoy

      hardly sitting matter

      #6076

      “Let’s begin,” said the teacher. She was short and seemed around sixty seven. She walked around the room like a tamer surrounded by wild beasts in a circus. Her dark hair was tied into a long braid falling on her straight back like an I. She wore a sari wrapped around her neatly. “I’m Ms Anika Koskinen, your cryogurt teacher today. You’ve got the recipe in front of you on the benches right with the glass and a bottle of water. The ingredients will be in the cabinets on your left and everything is referenced and written big enough for everyone to see.”

      “Those benches look like the ones in chemistry class when I was in college,” said Glo. “I have bad memories of thoses.”

      “You have bad memories, that’s all,” said Sha making them both laugh.

      “But where’s Mavis?” whispered Glo after looking around the room at the other participants. A majority of women,  wrapped in colourful sarongs and a few older men.

      “How do you want me to know? I was with you since we left the bungalow,” said Sharon who was trying to decipher the blurry letters on the recipe. “Their printer must be malfunctioning, it’s unreadable.”

      “You should try putting on your glasses.”

      “I didn’t bring’em, didn’t think we’d need to see anything.”

      “Oh! There she is,” said Glo as Mavis just entered the room with her beach bag. “Mav! Weehoo! We’re here!”

      “I saw you! no need to shout,” whispered Mavis loudly. She muttered some excuse to the teacher who had been giving them a stern look.

      “I’m afraid you’ll have to go with your friends,” said Ms Koskinen, “We don’t have enough material for everyone.”

      “Oh! That’ll be perfect,” said Mavis with a broad smile. “Hi girls,” she said while installing herself near Sha and Glo.

      The teacher resumed her explanations of the procedure of making frozen yogurt, checking regularly if everyone had understood. She took everyone bobbing their head as a yes.

      “Is he good looking?” asked Sha, showing one of the men who had been looking at them since Mavis arrival.

      “You shouldn’t ask us,” said Glo, “our eyes are like wrinkles remover apps.”

      “I think he looks better without glasses,” said Mavis.

      After Ms Koskinen had finished giving them instructions, she told everyone to go take the ingredients and bring them back to their benches.

      “I’m going,” said Sha who wanted to have a better look at the man.

      “Don’t forget the recipe with the list of ingredients,” said Mavis waving the paper at her.

      “Oh! Yes.”

      She came back with the man helping her carry the tray of ingredients.

      “Thank you Andrew,” said Sha when he put the tray on their bench.

      “Oh you’re welcome. And those are your friend you told me about?”

      “Yes! This is Gloria and this is Mavis.”

      “Pleased to meet you,” said Andrew. “I’m Andrew Anderson. I suggested Sharon we could have lunch together after the workshop. I’d like you to meet my friends.”

      “Of course!” said Sha. She winked at her friends who were too flabbergasted to speak.

      “That’s settled then. We’ll meet at 1pm at my bungalow.”

      “See you later,” said Sharon with a dulcet voice.

      “What the butt was that all about?” asked Glo.

      “Oh! You’ll thank me. I pretexted not to be able to find everything on the list and Andrew was very helpful. The man is charming, and his yacht makes you forget about his Australian accent. We’re going to have lunch on a yacht girls! That means we’re not stuck on the beach and can have some fun exploring around.”

      Sha looked quite pleased with herself. She put a bottle of orange powder among the ingredients and said :”Now! Let’s make some wrinkle flattener ice cream, ladies. I took some extra tightener.”

      #5988

      Shawn Paul looked suspiciously at the pictures of the dolls in the Michigan forest on Maeve’s phone. He had heard about the Cottingley Fairies pictures, supposedly taken a long time ago by two little girls. The two little girls came out long after confessing they had staged the whole thing. Some said they had been coerced into it to keep the world from knowing the truth. It could well be the same thing with the whole dollmania, and Shawn Paul thought one was never dubious enough.

      He noded politely to Maeve and decided to hide his doubts for now. They were resting on sunbeds near the hotel swimming pool.

      “Do you want another cocktail?” asked a waitress dressed up in the local costume. Not much really, and so close-fitting. She was presenting them with a tray of colourful drinks and a candid smile. Her bosom was on the brink of spilling over the band of cloth she had around her chest. It was decorated with a pair of parrots stretched in such a way their lubricious eyes threatening to pop out at any moment.

      Shawn Paul, who had the talent to see the odd and misplaced, forced himself to look at the tray and spotted the strangest one. He pushed his glasses back up on his nose and asked without looking at the waitress.

      “What’s that strange bluish blob under the layers of alcohol and fruits?”

      Maeve raised one eyebrow and looked at her companion with disapproval, but the waitress answered as if she heard that all the time.

      “That’s a spoonful of honey from the blue bees. We feed them a special treat and they make us honey with remarkable properties that we have learned to use for the treatments we offer.”

      “Oh,” said Shawn Paul who did not dare ask more about the treatments.

      They had arrived to Tikfidjikoo just before the confinement had been declared all over the world, and they had a moment of hesitation to take the last plane with the other tourists and go back safely to Canada. But after the inconclusive adventure in Australia, Maeve had convinced him they had to stay to find out more about the dolls.

      They had met those three old ladies and one of them had one of the dolls. Sharon, Mavis and Gloria, they were called and they were going to a smaller island of the archipelago, one that was not even on the maps apparently. That should have given them suspicions, but it seemed so important to Maeve that Shawn Paul hadn’t had the heart to leave her alone.

      “I have a plan,” had said Maeve, “We’re going to follow them, befriend them and learn more about how they came to have the doll and try and get the key that’s inside of it.”

      “You’re here for the beauty treatment?” had asked the girl at the counter. “You’re lucky, with the confinement a lot of our reservations have been canceled. We have plenty of vacancy and some fantastic deals.”

      Maeve had enrolled them for a free week treatment before Shawn Paul could say anything. They hadn’t seen the ladies much since they had arrived on the island, and now there were no way in or out of the island. They had been assured they had plenty of food and alcohol and a lot of activities that could be fitted to everyone’s taste.

      #5965

      Mavis, Sharon and Gloria were looking like icy popsicles in their cubicles, with only their heads popping out.

      Berenice, still under training, was overseeing the process, daunted by the alarming number of blinking buttons from the apparatus. She tried to look composed, knowing full well her aunt Barbara wouldn’t make preferential treatment if she were to make a blunder.

      “BWAAAAHA!” blurted out Gloria coming out of what appeared to have been a very lucid dream.

      “WHAT NOW?! Bloody hell Glor’ you’re goin’ to get us all a tart attack!” Sharon shouted from the adjacent cubicle.

      “I just got meself the most horrid dream Shar’, you know wot?”

      “Don’t say, my Glor'” Mavis said, having left her ears on the nearby table with her shining teeth too. “It’s that about anuther wet dream with Flump?”

      “Good Lord no! WORSE even!”

      “WOT now?” Sharon couldn’t help but ask, shushing with a mean eye the poor Berenice.

      “NURSE TRASSIE! She was comin’ fur us!”

      “Oh bloody hell. Haven’t they confined her already?” Sharon dismissed with a shrug that made the whole concrete floor vibrate like a panzer washing machine in dry mode. “Look lassies, that’s more interesting.” She nodded towards the haggard Sophie lying on one of the tables. “Brought us some competition on the looks area it seems.”

      “What?” Mavis strained to hear.

      “Look dammit! The poor fashion-impeded soul that landed on a waiting list for one of our spots. Gosh, that latex thingy she sports makes me all blushy! But don’t you worry. She can’t be competition to us, ladies. That cryo-treatment is already working I can tell.”

      She felt the need to add and punctuate towards Berenice “And no thanks to you, young lady. You should learn from me. Never been afraid to push a button in my life!”

      #5837

      In reply to: Tart Wreck Repackage

      The nurse outfits were a good size too tight.

      “I didn’t realize that cult was short for horticulture,” Tara said, while struggling with the chafing elastic band of her… mask. She almost regretted that mission wasn’t risqué enough to warrant the Moulin Rouge ensemble.

      “Don’t be daft,” Star answered, not knowing what else to say. She clearly wasn’t expecting carrots either. Although it sort of made sense in a culinary continuity sort of way, now they were looking for basil, come to think of it.

      “Where do you think they’ll be keeping him?” whispered Tara.

      “With the garlic and butter?” guffawed Star Wrexham.

      “HEY! You two!” someone waved at them from the back. “Yes you two! About time you arrived!”

      It was too late to flee. Tara rolled her eyes. It wouldn’t take one minute for their undercover to be uncovered.
      But with Star’s luck, the guy could well guide them straight to the missing uncle Basil. Unless of course there was another side business of the cult which required scantily dressed as nurse ladies, and they could still hope to blend in… Either or, but in any case, they would figure it out pretty soon.

      #5783

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

      #5737

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

      The loud voice got her all startled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

      She never saw the taser come.

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

      #5637

      “Och aye, now that’s intriguing,” remarked Jacqui, looking up from her phone. “Well I’ll be darned.”

      “What’s that, honey?” asked her friend Ella Marie, looking up from her needlepoint. She was working on a cushion cover with an Egyptian theme.

      “How far away is Chickasaw?”

      “Why, that’s not far away at all,” Arthur said, and then went into some detail involving road numbers that neither of the ladies paid attention to.

      “What all is a happening over there in Chickasaw anyway?” asked Ella Marie.

      “Can you drive me over there? I have to kidnap a baby,” said Jacqui.

      Noticing the astonished looks on her friends faces she hastened to add, “Oh it had already been kidnapped. I just have to kidnap it back, the mother misses it.”

      Arthur and his wife said “Ah” in unison, recalling the time when the divorced father had snatched the neighbours children, causing poor Mary Lou no end of grief.

      “Of course we’ll help you, that child needs his mother,” Arthur said. “Where in Chickasaw are they holding him?”

      “That’s the tricky part, Art. The exact location isn’t known. In fact, ” Jacqui said, “In all honestly I don’t quite know where to go from here.”

      #5624

      Finnley

      It’s a funny thing what tiredness can do to a girl. I could have sworn it was daytime when I knocked on Mr August’s door. Turned out it was nearly midnight and Mr August wasn’t best pleased to see me. Judging by the giggling I could hear and the way he was trying to barricade the door, he already had company. It wouldn’t surprise me if he was a bit of a ladies’ man with his smooth chest and satin bath-robe. (Although, if you ask me, the embroidered dragon down the front is overkill). Mr August snapped at me that I had the job and he’d get the paperwork sorted tomorrow. The mix-up worked out in my favour; he was that keen to get shot of me and back to business.

      Not knowing what else to do, I made myself a possie under a large desk in the hall and tried to get comfy. Anyway, that’s when the fun really started. The maid, the rude one who took the baby, came tiptoeing out of her room wringing her hands and muttering that she had a doubt. Not long after that, two middle-aged ladies barged in, both off their faces I would say. “I’ll give that maid Alabama if anything has happened to our Barron!” shouted the short one, and they lurched their way into the baby’s room.

      Good grief.

      Finally, the maid tiptoed back to her room and the ladies went back to whatever hole they’d crawled from and I hoped that me and the baby would be able to get some sleep at last. Who was I kidding? I nearly managed to drop off when the doorbell rang again. The maid answered it—I’m starting to understand why she is so ill-tempered; she never gets any sleep. This time it’s some crazy looking lady who said she had come to help me! But I’ve never seen her before in my life!

      Weirdo, right?
      ,
      I’m pretty flabbergasted by the lack of security and all the comings and goings. Things are going to be a bit different from now on, I can tell you that right now.

      EricEric
      Keymaster

        Pitch: June and April are two au pair middle-aged ladies with a penchant for lavish parties and copious drinking, who after being sacked from many places due to their poor manners and laisser-aller in their duties, have finally landed a dream job at the Washingtown Beige House, to take care of the often vacant whereabouts of the Lump Family, and chiefly of their baby Barron, the pride of Pres. Lump. The pay is nice, so long as they keep the Boss happy.
        Their main concerns are the Indian maid Noor Mary (Norma) Chowdhury, who has a PhD in Social Studies, but has had difficulties finding a better job, and doesn’t see too well the intrusion of the new staff. They also have to deal with August, the chief of staff, who collects golf balls and pewter memorabilia from the Civil War.
        They are unaware, but there biggest trial yet to come is a dangerous Mexican cartel on their way to kidnap baby Barron…

        June felt like excitement, while April was more modestly quiet, currently absorbed in reading with horror the news about the fires; April had a sister there, married to an Australian and very fundamental Christian in her beliefs. Over the years, they’d stopped being able to communicate… Crazy to think about all the fires down there — and by down there, she didn’t mean down there, but rather down “down there.” Actually, it was a long time since there had been any fires there, if she didn’t count the last infection…

        “Hold that thought…” June interrupted, while sipping her cognac. It was medicinal, she kept repeating to nobody in particular but herself, Back Blossom infusions to calm her nerves. They had to be kept in something, so why not cognac. “You did mention something about a party tonight? But what are we going to do about the baby?”

        April did ponder for a second but the response was actually obvious. “Don’t worry about baby Barron, we’ll instruct the dog to keep guard, and I’ll put an EyeWatch on his wrist with your number on speed dial in case anything happens.”

        “Brilliant! I wonder why I didn’t think of it myself. Let’s get ready. Really, that family is a blessing; never on our backs, always travelling everywhere, leaving us partying to all the fancy places in Washingtown. Sure, the only bother is to take care of these pesky kids.”

        “True. All the maids and au pairs in the neighbourhood make for a good network. It’s a nice life.” April pondered and added. Although the Boss is a bit lewd, if you tell me.”

        “Really? With his orange face and his five orders of periwigs?” June sounded surprised, and a bit disappointed not to have been able to notice.

        “But the one we should really worry about is the maid, if you ask me. Good thing the boss can’t understand her English, otherwise she would have ratted us out long ago.”

        June smiled mischievously. “Oh, but she better watch her six this one, you’ll leave her to me.”

        #4810
        EricEric
        Keymaster

          Nurse Trassie sniffed the rubbish can. A day or two at most. The traces were not fresh, but neither were her preys. Yet, there was something unmistakable about the trail the three of them left in their wake.
          The pharmacist had been reluctant at first to share information, but a well-placed arm wrench extracted the truth out of him very efficiently. Those misbehaving lying eloping people needed to be corrected.
          “Yes, yes, I remember them three, very nice ladies!” he said in pleading tones. “They didn’t say where they lived, pleaase! But they were late for their plane!”
          “To where?!” Nurse Trassie was losing patience as much as the plot, and it made her angry.
          “To Finland I think, they were complaining about the cold, and they bought lip balm, and and…”
          Nurse Trassie had heard enough, she could track them through the flight agencies. How these three had managed to take a flight out of the country was a surprise. They’d surely had help.

          She growled to herself “I’m not going to be bested by these decrepit slovens, mark my words. I’ll bring them back to the nursing home by the rest of their hair if I have to!”

          #4801

          “Hyvää päivää hyvät naiset.”

          “Bwawhahahaa” the three ladies rolled in fits of hysterical laughter.

          “God dag damer?”

          “OOooooh, AAAhhahaha.”

          “I should have guessed they weren’t models enough to be Finns or Swedes.” muttered Barbara under her chin hair, readjusting her beehive ‘do. She almost regretted all the time spent learning the languages through the Fuertolingo app.

          “Come right this way ladies, there are some measurements to be done, and extension works needed on the machines. I’m afraid the cryogenic caisson wasn’t sized for… your accomplishments.”

          “Isn’t she a peach, bwahaha, wot nonsense! Let’s follow that moppet, your augustancies! Ooohuhuhu!” Sharon hooted all wobbly.

          #4780

          “B’s in trouble!” Gloria cried out, waking up the two other snoring ladies who almost fell from their rocking chairs.
          “Whatcha sayin’ my Glor’?” Sharon was the first to react once she put her hand on her teeth.
          “Sayin’ that our B’s in trouble!”
          “Can’t let that be, cannit?” Sharon retorted “But where daya think you got your intel’ love, ain’t our B dead last year?”
          “Sure thing but I got up one my brainwaves, t’was vivid as day, like when I got my cataract all strung up and the good doctors lazered my eyes aye. She was stuck in a big ruby!”
          “Ahaha, that’s got to be a big ruby fossur’, remember ‘ow big our B was!”
          “Oh shush Shar’, lemme thing alright. Think it all links back to our beauty treatments I’m sure, hasn’t anybody answered our advert’?” Gloria asked Mavis
          “Oh bleedin’ hell no, I forgot to check, lemme get my spectacles, dear!” Mavis answered.

          THERE, THERE!” Mavis jumped at the article. “A time and location for a rendez-vous.” she said suggestively. “When do we sneak out?”

          “Tonight, tonight alright, all my store of Stillnox is already in the water supply, everybody’s going to snore in no time.”

          Glor’, I think we’ll have a problem.” Sharon said plaintively. “I drank plenty of the ol’ water supply alright too, the doctor said I needed to drink plenty with my lady problems and all.”

          #4406

          In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

          TracyTracy
          Participant

            mansion away
            believe woke hut
            enchanted laughing ladies
            master matter
            rainbow carried approaching silence
            starting fact thoughts
            question turns wet
            breakfast

            #4403
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              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 ROADCONTINUOUS

              ALBIE rushes along the street, followed by MATT. They take a short cut through some back gardens, jumping fences along the way.

              INT. A LIBRARYSHORTLY 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 PARKBACK 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 LIBRARYPRESENT 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 SHOPLATER 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?

              #4104
              AvatarJib
              Participant

                “Is that lamb head on the menu?” asked Connie with a grimace on her face. “I can’t believe it.”

                “It looks like it, dear”, retorted Sophie offhandedly. “Don’t look at me like that, I’ve seen and eaten worse.”

                “Ewh”, said Connie, “I don’t want to know.” She was not quite honest, her reporter blood was thirsty about good and juicy stories. But she was not here to interview the temp, and the menu was leaving her perplexed. “What’s Hrútspungar ?”

                “You don’t want to know”, said Sophie, “Trust me.”

                Connie craved some vegan food and they didn’t seem to have any vegetables in the hotel restaurant. She pouted and finally gave up. “Take whatever you want, I’ll follow.”

                “You like to live dangerously”, said Sophie.
                “Whatever”, retorted Connie with a sigh. She put a hand on her round belly. “It may be an opportunity to begin that diet.”

                Sophie snorted. She never believed in diet. She had tried them all, just for fun, but she eventually found the rules boring and just forgot about the whole diet business.

                “Nice beehive hair Ladies”, said the waiter with an appreciative look at their heads. “What will you order?” he asked opening his small notebook.

                Sophie smiled at the compliment and closed the menu. “I’ve been told you had a special”, she said.

                The man tilted his head and looked at the old woman with a hint of surprise in his eyes. He shrugged as if it wasn’t his problem after all. Connie gulped, expecting the worse.

                “Two Svið with Gellur”, he said scribbling something in his notebook. “May I suggest some Brennivín?”
                “You may”, answered Sophie. “It can help us gulp the whole thingy”, she explained to Connie.

                “The common error is to go for the head and dismiss the eyes”, said the waiter. “They may surprise you”, he added before leaving.

                Connie looked murderously at Sweet Sophie, whom she would have renamed Sour Sophie in that moment. The old woman had an air of satisfaction on her face. “Why on earth would you pick that ?” asked the reporter.

                “Oh! That was part of the instructions in the letter”, answered Sophie with a shrug that made her beehive tremble.

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