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  • #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?

      #4350
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Those things people discard… in his life as the rubbish collector, Pepe had seen many. The unusual large package was just one of the highlights of the day; it’s like Providence meant for him to have this thrown away parcel.

        Curious they didn’t even bother to open it, though he thought as he put it on the front of the truck. He probably would keep it for awhile, to see if anybody claims it back. You’d never know with the lot of crazy hoarding people in this lot. It was not the first time their batty help threw stuff away.

        If not, whatever that was inside would probably join his large collection.
        Over 20 years of gathering discarded books, he could almost open a library. And it didn’t matter how much he would give away, more would come back. It was a blessed curse, he used to say.

        #4331

        “What was in the bag, Finnley, tell us!”
        Everyone was looking at the maid after the Inspector had left hurriedly, under the pretext of taking care of a tip he had received on the disappearance of the German girl.

        Godfrey was the most curious in fact. He couldn’t believe in the facade of meanness that Finnley carefully wrapped herself into. The way she cared about the animals around the house was a testimony to her well hidden sweetness. Most of all, he thought herself incapable of harming another being.
        But he had been surprised before. Like when Liz’ had finished a novel, long ago.

        “Alright, I’ll show you. Stay there, you lot of accomplices.”

        Godfrey looked at Liz’ sideways, who was distracted anyway by the gardener, who was looking at the nearby closet.

        Liz’, will you focus please! The mystery is about to be revealed!”

        “Oh shut up, Godfrey, there’s no mystery at all. I’ve known for a while what that dastardly maid had done. I’ve been onto her for weeks!”
        “Really?”
        “Oh, don’t you give me that look. I’m not as incapable as you think, and that bloodshot-eyes stupor I affect is only to keep annoyances away. Like my dear mother, if you remember.”
        “So tell us, if you’re so smart now. In case it’s really a corpse, at least, we may all be prepared for the unwrapping!”
        “A CORPSE! Ahaha, you fool Godfrey. It’s not A corpse! It’s MANY CORPSES!”

        Godfrey really thought for a second that she had completely lost it. Again. He would have to call the nearby sanatorium, make up excuses for the next signing session at the library, and cancel all future public appear…

        “Will you stop that! I know what you’re doing, you bloody control machine! Stop that thinking of yours, I can’t even hear myself thinking nowadays for all your bloody thinking. Now, as I was saying of course she’d been hiding all the corpses!”
        “Are you insane, Liz’ —at least keep your voice down…”
        “Don’t be such a sourdough Godfrey, you’re sour, and sticky and all full of gas. JUST LET ME EXPLAIN, for Lemone’s sake!”

        Godfrey fell silent for a moment, eyeing a lost peanut left on a shelf nearby.

        Conscious of the unfair competition for Godfrey’s attention Elizabeth blurted it all in one sentence:
        “She’s been collecting them, my old failed stories, the dead drafts and old discarded versions of them. Hundreds of characters, those little things, I’d given so many cute little names, but they had no bones or shape, and very little personality, I had to smother them to death.” She started sobbing uncontrollably.

        That was then that Finnley came back in the room, panting and dragging the sack coated in dirt inside the room, and seeing the discomfit Liz’ with smeared make-up all over her eyes.

        “Oh, bloody hell. Don’t you tell me I brought that dirty bag of scraps up for nothing!”

        She left there, running for the door screaming “I’m not doing the carpets again!”

        And closed the door with a sonorous “BUGGER!”

        #4005

        “Don’t fret about that silly paper, I think it comes from an old Balzac book” Prune said unhelpfully. “Couldn’t figure out for the longest time why it was cut out.”

        Everyone was looking at her. She shrugged.
        “I looked at the library to find it, it just said ‘On n’est jamais aussi bien servi que par le hasard’ “.
        “It’s French for One is never better served than by chance”.

        At the spoken words, the rather rigid Idle became uncrusted.

        #3938
        Jib
        Participant

          Roberto had just heard the end of their conversation. I want to hear about dear cousin Badul, the old tart had said to the maid. Something in his brain was triggered by that name, something he had been led to forgot by his handlyer in Vegas before… his mission. Yes he remembered now that he had a mission. But still all the little tickling wheels in his brain were catching up with the forgotten memories.

          He looked inside the house. The old tart was handling what looked like a sheep skull. Was she doing some dark magic ? Was she a bruja ? He was not particularly superstitious or religious, but he had learned to fear the brujas of his village in the desert.

          “Put that on the library between Byron and Baudelaire, will you?”
          The maid looked at the skull, then at her mistress with the same rollling eyes. Oh it was subtle, so very sutble that the old lady had certainly not seen it, but he had been trained to read people’s faces… well he had read an old book of Chinese face reading that his grand mother had when he was living there… That’s why they recruited him.

          The maid left with the skull, removed a few books from the shelf and put the skull unceremoniously in between. She shoved the remaining books randomly on other shelves and shrugged.
          “I’m going to make a banana yogurt cake… without yogurt”, she said to nobody in particular.

          #3568
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Flora came to her senses muttering something about a coachload of American tourists in Italy. Bert had been the first to arrive at the scene of the accident. Not one to flap in a crisis, he calmly picked up the injured woman and carried her to the sofa in the living room, instructing Prune to fetch the mop and clean the blood off the floor. By the time Bert had seen to the wound on Flora’s head, she was starting to come round, muttering gibberish and apparently confused.

            “Where am I? Is this Florence or Rome? Am I late?” she asked, telling Bert she was perfectly alright now thank you, although she clearly wasn’t.

            “No, you aint late, dear, it’s still quite early,” Bert replied soothingly.

            “But I must get to the Vatican Library, I must be getting on now,” she said, trying to stand up.

            Bert gently but firmly pushed her back down, saying, “Have a nice cup of tea first, plenty of time for that later.”

            “What the dickens is going on now?” asked Mater. “What’s all this about Rome? Anyone seen my reading glasses?” she asked, peering around the room from the doorway.

            Bert explained briefly, and asked Mater to sit with Flora while he went to make the tea.

            #3021
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              “That would be me,” said the cleaner, with a wry smile.

              Mari Fe jumped. “Oh my, you startled me—I didn’t see you there. Hasn’t your shift finished?”

              “Emergency clean. Some of the alphabet are jumping out of books in the library. Suicide, most likely, although I guess they could have been pushed. There are very few survivors. What a mess.”

              Mari Fe was looking intently at the cleaner. “There is something different about you; I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

              The cleaner ducked her head nervously as she gathered up her things. “I best get going. Duty calls.”

              “I know what it is!” said Mari Fe triumphantly, “You’ve grown a moustache!”

              #2993
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                Liverworts had done wonder at the Vatican, actually.
                That, and maybe the out-of-the-body sit-ins of the Occupy The Vatican Library Out of Body team too. So much so that the old cranky current tenant decided to leave his chasuble and tiara and go for more exciting adventures such as sky-diving and bungee jumping.

                The Surge Team’s game was about to change to a whole new level they soon started to discover when their screens started to light up at the same moment the first news report came out with the scoop. Well, the second one actually, because the first reporter spoke only in Latin.

                “So much red can only mean one thing,” a dejected Pearl mused out aloud at her screen.
                “Chinese Bloody New Year?” a distracted Skye answered tentatively.
                “Yes… but no, I mean, it’s not surges any longer… another Wave is on the making… And I fear they’ll overdo the religious stuff with that one.” she added gloomily.

                “Oh, and by the way, anyone seen Aqua Luna recently? I’ve never seen my keyboard so bloody dusty in ages!”

                #2887
                Jib
                Participant

                  Little Jeffrey loved going to the library. It was not far from home and he was allowed to go there on his own.

                  On his way, there were many treasures.

                  One of them was a big giant Tesla Coil. His father had told him it was a fake and the real one was in the science museum on the other side of the planet with all Tesla’s inventions up to the electricityairborn car. Nonetheless, there were always many people playing around and at times lights and electric sounds would give you the impressions as if you were near the real one. Little Jeffrey knew exactly when to go to the library to see the lights and he enjoyed seeing the look on people’s face who were passing by for the first time.

                  But most of all, his favorite was the ship. His father had told him she was a real one and she has been put there because it was the favourite smuggling place of his captain. Little Jeffrey dreamt of her every night. He dreamt he was a pirate, sailing in the oceans with Captain Yang Lang. In his dreams, the ship could even go to the Moon with one of Tesla’s inventions powering her.

                  The Aqua Luna library was named after her.

                  #2878
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    “The surge diversion is going well here, Pearl, for the moment. The energy has been channeled into street protests and the vibrations are being changed by an awful lot of banging on saucepans with spoons, somewhat noisy admittedly, but we’re a noisy lot here, and it’s going well. They’ve even adopted the word Tides to describe the surge diversion, and it’s alot more fun on the streets than some other surges I could mention.”

                    “No need to snort like that, Mari Fe” said Pearl. “We’ve just had word from the remote viewing team, and Ed Steam is in your neck of the woods, and one of your surges must be diverted to take him out.”

                    “The Three Kings Procession in a few days time might be an opportunity, leave it with me Pearl, I’ll see what I can do. I’d already planned to follow the Three Kings back home after the parade to ancient Tartessos, I’ve been collaberating with the time travel teleport portal people. Did you know that the Pope admitted that the Three Kings were from Andalucia? That was a result of the Occupy The Vatican Library Out of Body team. Anyway, maybe we can send Ed Steam back with them. He won’t be able to cause much trouble from thousands of years ago.”

                    Mari Fe, if you’re planning to go back to Tartessos too, you won’t be much help here, will you?”

                    “Ahhhh!” replied Mari Fe with a cryptic smile. “You wait and see what I bring back with me!”

                    “Well as long as it’s not Ed Steam, that’s all. Leave him there!”

                    #2844

                    In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Well trained by the dictates of his religion, Luigi was unaccustomed to listening to his intuition (it was the work of the devil and the weakness of his sinful self, he believed), but as he mopped up the spilled coffee, he had an impulse so strong that he was unable to control it, and picked the book up and stuffed it into the inside pocket of his jacket. He checked his watch ~ what! it was 7:57 already! Where had the time gone? Five minutes later he emerged into the rosy glow of the early morning sunshine, making his way accross the square to the cafe where he customarily had coffee after his night shift at the Library. The occupants of the tents in the square were rustling about inside the tents, some of the early risers were sitting on folding chairs brewing up coffee on primus camping stoves. As Petronella poked her tousled head out of her tent, dreams of banana puddings in polystyrene cups still in her head, an old man shuffled past. A flock of pigeons swooped down at that moment, causing the old man to lurch. A book slid to the ground from under his jacket but he didn’t notice as he carried on accross the square. Petronella picked the book up, and retreated back into her tent.

                      #2840

                      In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

                      White Panther
                      Participant

                        Falling…
                        Falling…
                        Falling…
                        Like an overdue meteorite that suddenly usurps the earth’s unaware atmosphere, Jennifer and her greatly interested boyfriend suddenly found themselves on the filthy ground, after the tree in which they were concealing their frivolous touches of childish passion gave in to the ground on account of an astonishing hole manifested the earth.

                        “Canaria,” Jennifer whispered as she dusted herself, resurrecting her fallen self from the earth. Jon had informed her that it was due to rise any moment after the great meeting of the Tw’Elves, but she wasn’t expecting it to occur so suddenly. Jon was the physical host of a channeled entity that synchronized itself with the initial dimension and the alterversity. She had first encountered this entity while wandering around in a dream, looking desperately for lucidity. It was like a vision: there was a blinding flash of purple light, and then when it fizzled, a gentle, yet booming voice manifested itself in the atmosphere and enlightened her of the shift in physical and metaphysical consciousness that was going to occur in the form of risen continents (five in total)- a shift in consciousness that would even out the blurring lines between illusion and reality.
                        The young, nameless one stood up, uttered an awkward cough and muttered: “What?” but Jennifer was already walking in the opposite direction, towards a large, circle rock she termed “Sepritrella”, meaning “place of silence” in the language of the Tw’Elves. “Jenni-” the young man called out hopelessly, thinking that somehow his voice would bring her back to him. Little did he know…

                        “I must call an emergency OOB meeting at the library,” she whispered as she placed herself upon the rock of Sepritrella and begun her meditative state. She fell into a relaxed trance, and suddenly her token colour of blue beamed itself loudly, zooming towards the Vatican Library to meet the others.

                        #2836

                        In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          Amarilla, the representative of the new eastern Atlantic continent of Canaria, called for an informal meeting in The Library. New S’elves would be remanifesting on the African continent, and indeed a new team would be remanifesting on the continent of North America too. The team of tw’elve there had disappeared into a fracking sink hole in Arkansas the previous week, and a consensus was to be agreed on the location of the next manifestation.

                          #2825

                          In reply to: Snowflakes of Tens

                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            Racy Mc Tartshall had been absent for so long that it was hardly any wonder that nobody remembered her, despite the importance of her mission which had long since been forgotten. Mc Tart, as she was affectionately known (or would have been if anyone had remembered her) was a tartist of the highest calibre, consistently producing hugh class tart (which was of course three grades higher than high, and 2 grades higher than hagh, and so forth). Mc Tart had been investigating Nosebook, sniffing out potential distortions, claritortions, connectortions and myriad other contortions, for the distortium, claritortium, connectortium and contortium, respectively ~ focusing mainly on the connectortium, naturally enough.

                            While researching something or other that was no doubt relevant at the time but had long been forgotten, Mc Tart met Alfred in the Library. ““Aha! Alfred in the Library with a Book, was it!” she exclamined. “I knew I’d find a clue here”. “It wasn’t me!” he retorted, aghast. “It was Albert in the Chapless Pants club with a Rolling Pin!” Mc Tart, feigning an all knowing expression, replied “Ahhhh” and made a mental note to investigate.

                            Mental notes, known as m’otes for short, floated like wisps in the air currents and occasionally sparkled in the sunbeams, although more often than not, they clumped together under the bed in bunny shapes, slowly dying of boredom. Thankfully the sheer pointlessness of mental notes ~ m’otes ~ made not a whit of difference in the grand scheme of the connectortium investigation because of the abundant nature of Fluce’s ~ (fucking lucky chance encounters), notwithstanding the heated debates continuing in the Distortium about the precise nature of Fluce’s and their relationship to M’Otes ~ or not, depending on the point one wished to make at any particular time.

                            And so it was by Fluce that Mc Tart met Blithe, Heck and Walty in “le Tunnel” one dreary grey Noremember afternoon. There was nothing to suggest, on first inspection, any thing of interest for the Connectortium mission, but Mc Tart was not discouraged. “Many a moth maketh maths marbles” she reminded herself as she perused the nenu (which, the reader will deduce, is a hugher class of menu).

                            [link: high class]

                            #2822

                            In reply to: Snowflakes of Tens

                            F LoveF Love
                            Participant

                              Just in case there are any mindful readers, and for further clarification and continuation, let it be noted that Alfred eventually realised he was not trapped at all. An old tunnel, once used by members of the Distortium for clandestine purposes, had an opening in Alfred’s yard. He was able to use this tunnel make his way out of his yard and continue his journey to the library.

                              {link Distortium}

                              #2821

                              In reply to: Snowflakes of Tens

                              TracyTracy
                              Participant

                                “Well, it clarifies one thing, if nothing else” Frond, the curator of the Murganian Distortium, said drily, “Cleary, this is nothing but a pack of seeds.”

                                :yahoo_rolling_eyes:

                                Alfred, preoccupied with worrying about his overdue library book, entered the door of the Murganian Distortium by mistake, which was next door to the Murgatorium Library.

                                {LINK: CLARIFIED, SEED}

                                #2818

                                In reply to: Snowflakes of Tens

                                F LoveF Love
                                Participant

                                  Alfred, the clockwork Murganian, suddenly remembered he had an overdue library book.

                                  He picked up the dusty book from the oven, took off his coat, rolled to the door and pulled a key from his shoe to let himself out. It was such a very long time since he had been out and he was most surprised to find that the seeds he had planted in the sky some time ago had grown to such an extent that his pathway was no longer accessible.

                                  What to do? wondered Alfred. He wondered for a few minutes then realised that wondering was getting him nowhere and action was called for.

                                  “Help” he shouted.

                                  {link – key}

                                  #2652

                                  In reply to: Strings of Nines

                                  TracyTracy
                                  Participant

                                    “We walk, Ia’eh and Minkah, Desher and I,” Elizabeth read the email from Hypatia, “ towards the dark ridge of stone where the books lie hidden, awaiting the day they should be found again…..When Cleopatra ruled, the books numbered 400,000…and this, I think, is true. By the time of Theon of Alexandria, an age in which the books were no loner in the Great Library of the Palace of the Ptolemies, which was also no longer, but housed instead the “daughter” library of the Serapeum, they numbered 360,000. Those lost to the Bishop of Theophilus amounted to a tenth of these. But no matter if full half were lost, that Minkah brought out from Alexandria so many amazed me then; it amazes me still. He not only carried them here, but brought back an account of where each cave was sited, and which jars were placed in which cave.”

                                    Godfrey, didn’t we know a Minky once, who was a sort of a servant?”

                                    “We did indeed, Liz, you were the one who inserted him into the story, surely you remember?”

                                    “Well, the name rings a bell, Godfrey, but where did we meet him?”

                                    Godfrey snapped his fingers and as if by magic, an excerpt from the Reality Play appeared:

                                    “Just then a funny little man with a huge cheeky grin appeared and held out a tray. Smoothies! Coconut and berry smoothies, and pink cakes, croissants”

                                    “Croissants!” interrupted Elizabeth.

                                    “… and oranges, and a box of cadbury’s chocolates…”

                                    “Don’t remind me about Cadbury’s” groaned Elizabeth. “I simply can’t bear it that they’ve blinked into another dimension”

                                    Godfrey continued: “ Dory slurped and munched and gobbled and slurped some more, and underneath where the chocolate was, she saw a brochure.
                                    On the front cover was a picture of a cave. OOHH A CAVE! Dory loved caves! Let’s go to the cave today, Minky! she said to the funny fellow with the impish grin. Minky winked.”

                                    “He was going to take Dory to the caves!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “Why didn’t I finish that story thread!”

                                    “There’s no need to wring your hands like that, Liz” said Godfrey soothingly. “You can continue it now!”

                                    #2778
                                    F LoveF Love
                                    Participant

                                      The myopic Finnley DIDN’T wear fishnet stockings.

                                      Unable to resist the library, and in a tutu, he was just hoping that he did the right thing in sending the staff before dinner to the stables.

                                      Finnley, in the library, before dinner, waited.

                                      “Damn it!” Finnley muttered. “I can’t do it alone”.

                                      A master in karate, a surge of adrenaline overflowed his mind and all he remembered was he was bald.

                                      NOTE : Well. By the time I took out all the pornographic stuff there wasn’t much left to work with. :yahoo_nerd:

                                      #2295

                                      “To be perfectly honest dear, I wouldn’t be very outwardly lovely if I were to be honest.”
                                      “Another of your convoluted ways to say it’s rubbish” Lavender said with a smile “But that’s fine, you know. It’s also meant as a test of honesty… And as I’m not sure you heard it properly anyway, a little honesty wouldn’t have hurt you know.”

                                      But it seemed Harvey’s attention had already gone somewhere else. “Are you even listening to me?” Lavender said with a lovely voice practicing the delicate guttural accents of Sloopernoff, snapping back Harvey’s attention to the conversation.
                                      “Oh, you were speaking… I’m sorry, I’m starting to worry that Ann’s narcolepsy is contagious.”
                                      “Always the worrywort…”

                                      As they were talking surrounded by the soft dusty specks of the library (which every time annoyed Lavender quite extensively, as she wasn’t so fond of the taste of dust bunnies and didn’t see with the same eye as Ann the archaeological value of burying useful things in dust), Gremwick the mad Dean of the Worseversity passed by with a yellow sticker stuck to the back of his trench coat.

                                      “Looks like mad old Gremwick isn’t doing so good recently hey… Seems like he was droning about taking the students’ courses to check on their quality last time we heard of him…” Lavender looked empathetic.
                                      Harvey was smiling “If you ask me, he might just be wanting to know if the rumor of Prof Gubby’s nine nipples were true or only sheer fantasy”
                                      “I wonder which perverted mind’s fantasy it could be” sighed Lavender unimpressed.

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