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  • #865

    Dr Bronkelhampton was eager to come back to the fridge to see if one of his patients had taken the bait.
    So far, his new discoveries have been promising. The use of honeycomb was a clever move, that would drastically lessen the need for expensive and cumbersome machineries. All he had to work out was the dosage.
    He was not sure the induced mutations wouldn’t be deadly…
    After all, that was what guinea pigs were meant for.

    MWAHAHAAHaaahAHha… cough cough… His Machiavellian manic laugh died in a raucous fit of coughing.
    That had almost ruined his eyeliner.
    Bugger it

    #791
    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      You booger! Finnley swore out loud at the Phooto-copy machine. Booger that Mr Arak, forcing her to work with this antiquated equipment!

      ( Technically, said Al, Finnley is only the cleaner, so why she is doing the photo-copying I really don’t know. )

      Finnley was still wondering who this Al was who kept mysteriously, and a bit rudely, interjecting. He sounds a little pedantic, she thought, perhaps he is one of those compooter gooks who have hired an office in the building recently.

      Mind you, she had to give him credit, he had a damn good poont, perhaps she should have a meeting with Mr Arak to discuss the terms of her coontract.

      #790

      It had been a moonth now that Elizabeth had got her first encounter with Pigoosus, her inner inspirer, on a dirty bench of the public park littered with pigeons droppings.

      A whole moonth, and yet, it had been so full that she had barely noticed it passing. Even Finnley, the ever grunchy grumpy one, had felt ubiquitously absent (Elizabeth was quite fond of Lemone’s profoond quotes, and his consummate uooze of exquisitively bizarre words; so, “ubiquitously absent”, oxymoronic as it was, for all matter and purposes felt deliciously adequate to her present mood).
      So, yes, even Finnley… who had felt recently so deeply absorbed by flocks of dust bunnies that went around the corners.

      As for her, the grandioosa noovelist, she had used the inspiration of that day to take a break from that strange story she was writing, and which had accumulated so many loose ends that she’d grown yucky at the mere sight of a dish of spooghetti.
      Instead, she had written a small unpretentious (as far as she could, that is) novelette, or children book as her publisher said. Of course, everything a little bit out of the ordinary was only good for children, and in fact, she couldn’t care less. She had tremendoose fun writing the Extra-vagrant Illustrated Tales of The Oogletoon Twins. Not only writing in fact, but also illustrating that intermission work (which was a first, as she had mostly the habit of doing coollages of various pictures teafed around, hence her fondness for Robert the robber magpie).

      Notwithstanding, this was an interesting adventure for Elizabeth. Life was full of surprises, and she wouldn’t have thought that in becoming more “down to Oorth”, as her parents would have exhorted her to do, so to spook, she would have indeed be really, really closer to Oorth, but nonetheless, still in fairy land. Ahaha, that was putting her in the greatest of moods.
      She smiled a broad smile to a fidgeting Finnley who was under the glowing neon light of the dark copy machine room, apparently in great conversation with some invisible being, as she went past the room, on her way to her office.

      :fleuron2:

      Checking on her compooter (her gorgeous iPear) she noticed an email from Barash… Another publisher that she was considering working with, when her current one had felt hesitant at publishing her illustrated book.
      Decidedly, everything was going well for her these days.

      #754
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        In the sparsely furnished room that V’ass had allocated him on the small building next to the clinic, Gabriele Ferrari, local Eastern Arch-Agent for the Confregation, was lying bare-chest on his bed. Despite the heat outside, the dark hair on his chest, and the lack of air-conditioning in the room, he was not sweating —the result of a total control on his chakras, a training the completion of which constituted the first requirement in accessing to the upper echelon of Arch-Agent.

        That Agent V was promising, he could tell. She was still a bit wayward and impulsive in her decisions, but spontaneity was an asset in their job. Mmm, better not get distracted now. Plan B was at stake.

        :fleuron: :fleuron: :fleuron:

        A few years before, Roma, Italy, at The Confregation Headquarters

        — I’m afraid this Dr B. isn’t very reliable. We got reports from the investigations you commissioned on his past, and upon further study of his Internet connections that we…
        — Spare me the details, Agent W.
        — Yes Principate, sorry Principate.
        — Thing is he has shown some mental instabilities, and early signs of schizophrenia.
        — Mmm… We both know schizophrenia is just a pathological sign of accessing other aspects of self… Nothing that can’t be dealt with with appropriate measures.
        — Yes Principate
        — Agent W, you know what is as stake, right?
        — Err…
        — Let me explain to you very clearly and simply Agent W. The artifact that we arranged for Dr B. to find and access the information sealed into it, this artifact, Agent W, is of utmost importance. That artifact is of course well encapsulated into the computer machinery we have provided the Doctor unbeknown to him… It is thus very important that you ensure the good progression of these works. But, despite his… de-ranged mind, as you may say… Dr B. is a brilliant scientist, and his works must proceed at all cost. If need be, send him a local agent to make sure of that.
        — Yes Principate.

        :fleuron2:

        Principate Haniel was quite concerned.
        It was a mere handful of years that thanks to the progress of computers they had managed to decipher parts of the encoded informations. The crystal skull that the Confregation had retrieved centuries ago from the greed and ignorance of Crusaders had waited long before they could start to be privy of its secrets. Centuries of patience would not be thwarted by mere negligence.
        Strangely the information they had deciphered were related to genetic encodings. The genome decryption of most of Earth species had not yet matched the pattern that was found inside the chunk of information until very recently, in an unexpected breed of spiders…

        Hoperfully Agent W would take the appropriate measures, Principate Haniel smiled ethereally. She would see to that.

        :fleuron2:

        Auckland, New Zealand, a week later

        — Agent V.
        — Agent W. Arch-Agent G.
        — We’ve be summoning you for some urgent matter that requires a local assistance. Arch-Agent G. here has advised that your service would be the most appropriate for this delicate matter. Are you aware of the dossier Operation Spider ?
        — Yes Agent W. Arch-Agent G has most kindly forwarded to me the details.
        — You’ll be leaving for the island at the end of the week, after you’ve been briefed on the most sensitive details.
        — Details Agent W? I thought everything was in the dossier?
        — There is a backup plan that has been devised from our best advised consultagents. Let’s call it Plan B for the moment. B as Bee-hive.
        — Very well Agent W.

        #653

        Mavis had not yet received any news from her friends Sharon and Gloria. She’d hoped she could have some postcard from them before she goes and join them…

        Nearly two months… Two months since they had all received the exciting email from that Dr. Bronklehampton and had decided to take a leap of faith.
        As a matter of fact, they had taken that leap of faith just before, and it was just a… “synchronistic confirmation that they were heading in the right direction”, that’s what old Harry had said… Or was it Joe? No, that was surely Harry.
        Fred wasn’t very pleased.

        Bored by all the variations of dominoes and dices games at their third-age club, the three inseparable ladies had decided, in a bout of delightful unreasonableness, to embrace all that modern technology had to offer. Sharon and Gloria, being the devil-may-care as they were, got their computer first. Mavis had to convince Fred that he could make his horse-racing bets with that computer without having to go to the city, now that the last pub in the village wasn’t taking bets any longer… and even play poker! she’d said, bluffing so vehemently that she’d almost blushed in shame for fear of being wrong. But that last argument had convinced old Fred. And now, she was connected too. A second-hand computer, with a dusty old keyboard, but she’d let it soak a night in a soapy basin, and it was now shiny as a brand-new one. Except that it now kept behaving strangely…

        In their club, they could boast that now they were connected all over the word, and all the old parakeets of the club had almost choked over their tea when they had heard all of what they had discovered.
        Sharon had won most of the glaring bedazzlement. Wearing newly bought sunglasses, she’d said whispering like a conspirator that she had searched her name on a website and she had seen more than 7 million pages talking of her! Imagine! More than seven million people talking of her! And she had not known she was so famous… Hence the sunglasses, she’d added with a wink… there were probably a slew of paparazzi hidden somewhere to discover all that was to know about her… But you can’t fool dear ol’ Sharon Stone.
        Gloria Fowles had been gathering almost 4,000 pages… But well, she had not the charismatic aura of Shah.
        And Mavis Staples had got a hefty 470,000 pages!… Of course, she had not told Fred, who was already so paranoid about all of this stuff. When they had received the machine, he was convinced there were miniature cameras and transponders from the MI6 inside the PC and had spent hours disassembling and reassembling it.

        Very soon after they had registered for their free email address (the reseller had explained patiently that she couldn’t electrocute herself while licking the envelop), the next day to be precise, at 5:33 —that was the hour when Mavis had finished her routine dusting and breakfast preparing for Fred, and just before taking Gulp, the dog for a news reading (that was what Sha was saying “butt sniffing for dogs, is like news reading for us”), she had granted herself a little peek into the emailbox— she had seen something in the recipe folder.
        She wasn’t sure why they had called that folder “meat” or “ham”… no that wasn’t “ham”… “SPAM” more like it… Anyway, in the recipes folder, she’d received her first email. She’d called eagerly Sha and Glo, and they had received it too, and had even answered it already, as they had spent the all night “surfing” as they said — which was a bit difficult for Sharon with her sunglasses in the dark.

        All three of them had received a free coupon for a massage and therapeutic rejuvenating treatments (and possibly some bonus organ enlargements free of charge) in Tikfijikoo Island!

        Well, now Mavis was ready to go too, now that Fred had been mollified and she’d gathered the money for the trip.
        In a sense, that was good she’d not received anything yet from Sha and Glo, it would allow her to imagine the wildest things!

        #495

        Narani was waiting patiently for her sisters to unfold their own desire. She had multiplexed their personal threads of desire for a new game to generate the magnetic field that was attracting the machinery of the 2 lEGGed creatures. She knew them well, as the oldest sister of her tribe, she was linked to all her “sisters”. And actually there were none of them that wouldn’t be a relative of sort. She had managed to maintain her own children on the island.

        Her cousin Ararog had also managed her own nest in England. She was connected to her through a strange egg, white with threads of pistachio in it. She could speak from very long distance with that object, that was merely helping her to focus her energy in the most probable direction. She was doing well and there had been lots of movements for her too.

        :fleuron:

        :mummy: smelled some chocolate cake in the distance… it seemed delicious and she was so hungry… :mummy: needed chocolate

        :fleuron:

        Aldous Mc Gaughran farted contentedly, causing some disgusted glances from the other customers, he smurggled puffing on his cigar. He was feeling aroused by that beautiful blond chick dancing on the stage of the saloon and was making his decision about their family.

        He :yahoo_pig: would have her.

        #234
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Becky noticed the round jars of coloured sand on the shelf as she went to look for some chocolate. She hadn’t known why at the time, but she’d followed the impulse to bring a little sand home with her from special places, usually scooped up quickly and a bit furtively in the clear plastic wrapper of a cigarette packet. They were all lined up in little round jars from a disused yogurt making machine in front of her unused cookbooks on the kitchen shelf.

          #182
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Dory drifted off to sleep, despite the sounds of the conversations going on all around her in the next rooms. She dreamed of camels and a washing machine that wouldn’t spin with a full load, and then it turned into one of those teeth falling out and rushing to the dentist dreams, and then strangest of all, she woke up with a dream snapshot image of a perfect heart shaped….well it looked like a heart shaped dog turd!

            BUGGER THISDory woke up with a start. Someone in the room on the right had turned the music up and was singing ‘Bugger this’ to all the tunes.

            #179
            Jib
            Participant

              The pebbles were on their way to Fiona… the postman was very kind and told him it would arrive in 10 days max. The funny thing is that when Yann entered the post-office he first went to the automatic machine that wasn’t working, and when he was queuing he felt that it would be to that man he would give the parcel.

              There had been lots of movements during the night, he could’t remember a single thing except that he was talking with Archie… weirdo!

              And when he woke up, a friend with whom he hadn’t talk for ages had sent him a mail. He had thought the day before that he would speak to her soon. Soon has been very soon indeed.

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