Search Results for 'meanwhile'

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  • #3017
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      meanwhile in South Africa, an alphabet slaughtering surge made landfall, scattering the inhabitants, celebrities and everyday heroes alike. Some suspected the elusive Wordblade

      “Alliteration ascends the assonance of abseiling abstract aspects of anterior antiquities from ancient altars,
      Bouldering down blocks of brooks that break the boring & bland borders of bondage,
      And blinking through bleak and black boxes of brisk bravery.
      Creeping into crops of crooked crocks with crotches of cockroaches cramming into cans of calamity, the crisp cat crackles the calling.
      Dreaming of damning devils and demons dancing in droplets of dreary darkness drags the drunken diligence from the draught’s damnation,
      Even the everlasting ethereal elves ebbed and eased into the effervescent eloquent estate of eternal elitism.

      For the feeble and fumbling fatuous frontiers, the folly frolicked and fornicated with the familiar friend from foes’ fervent fevers;
      Greater than gradient grand gestures of gestaltic granite grasses,
      The gruesome grizzle grabbed the gore by the gripped grunting.
      Higher than homelands of hands in horizons,
      Heavens and Hells or Hades hazily hear the honing of the horses and horns-
      In internal infernos of inflicting infringes of institutional insurrections Interrogations instigated imminent innate innovations.
      Jacknives of jaundiced and jilted jokers jabbed at the jumping jingles of the jesting jackals that jet over jerseys of jeering,
      For the Killer Krakens kelp the kites from kids who keep kaleidoscopes of kind and keen keepers.

      Longer than languid lads that laze in lost latitudes the lieutenant lounged behind lines of lingering losses-
      Maids mellowed around mazes of men and manners of mad moments and made for mates on mattresses on mothered matrimony.
      Noisy & never-ending neckties on nests of nicked numbers never nominated the nurses that nosed the nuns for nuns’ nihilism
      Beyond the Oligarchs of overt operations of obligating omnipotence ostracizing the omniscience & omitting its ownership to the omnipresent order.
      Pilgrims to pentagons by people from poached & palpitated places of placards of propaganda pondered their positions in this power polarity
      When quivering quills of quavering queens quelled the quarterly quests of the quaint quarrels.

      Because roving rivers of raging ravines and raving reviews raced to the rest of the ripped rampant ravages and revelled at the rambling randomness
      Structured subsiding and subsidized societies should string the strongholds of the supreme sultans of seeded senses.
      Taking the trusty treaty the trussed toppled truants took the trickling ticking of time to the tables of trampled trees of timber,
      For under the ubiquitous umbilical umbrellas of ultra-sounds from upper-level ulcers underground underworlds underestimated the union.

      Vivid visions of voracious vampires of vexing vacuum vortexes vilified the vindicated vindictives from the violent vapid vanity
      While wild & wily whiskers of whispered whisky whisked the wailing widows
      From the wells of wanting when the wanton warriors walked on waters.
      Yards of years of yearning the yesterday’s yonder yarns of yellow yolk yawned Into the youth’s yoked yams
      For zigzags of zapped zebras to zip the zest in zealous zones.”

      #2936

      Sanso loved old maps, and was eager to help Vincentius spread the map out on the living room floor and have a closer look. It extended to a full 8 meters in length when it was rolled out, and Sanso and Vincentius had to kneel down and crawl over it to examine it. The map was like nothing they’d ever seen before, certainly it didn’t resemble the current state of the globe, although it had confusing similarities in places. Some of the names were familiar, but not in the usual locations, and there were some familiar land masses, but many were quite different.

      Meanwhile, back in the kitchen: “Take the lid off and have a look inside” urged Janet.
      YOU take the lid off, what if the mouse runs over my hand?” said Pearl. “I know, let’s get Ed to do it.”

      Janet and Pearl were cackling and bumping into each other, Pearl holding the teapot outstretched in front of her, and neither of them noticed Vincentius kneeling just inside the living room doorway, hidden behind his invisibility cloak.

      Vincentius looked up but was unable to move in time. Pearl tumbled over his back and the teapot flew out of her hand. Vincentius managed to catch the teapot but the lid flew off and hurtled across the room, catching Sanso on the side of the head. Janet fell over Pearl and landed on Sanso, although of course she couldn’t see him, as he was wearing the invisibility cloak. Vincentius looked on in horror, clutching the teapot close to his stomach, upside down. Bee was able to slide down the spout, straight down into Vincentius’ shorts. Bee let out a long whistle. She wasn’t called Belle Endwhistle for nothing, after all.

      Pearl sat up and rubbed her knee, wondering why Janet was hovering in mid air, and the tea pot was upside down and apparently defying gravity too. “Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea to have a tea break after all”. She wasn’t able to see Arona and Mandrake rolling their eyes, hidden as they were beneath invisibility cloaks. Pearl wasn’t able to see Mari Fe either, as she was too small, and appeared as no more than a dog hair covered bit of chewed up toy goat leg on the floor.

      #2884
      benjaminbenjamin
      Participant

        Meanwhile, in a not to distant probable reality, Greenflow, the turtle, was hiding in his shell due to the loud racket that started just moments ago.

        Bang, sounded his shell once again, an this time even louder than the last one.

        “Holly Molly, that one was too close to be anything other than a sign,” said Greenflow.

        “I had better pop out and take a look about and see what the dickens is making all this racket!”

        Just then a tiny green snout eased out of a house, which was the brilliant green color, and with odd looking symbols etched into its body.

        Greenflow immediately noticed a silvery shiny ball just inches from his nose, and it was ever so slightly embedded into the brown mud. “What could that be?” he thought.

        #1306

        In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

        benjaminbenjamin
        Participant

          Meanwhile back at the ranch – and it was a true ranch with horses and cattle and mountains stretching as far as one could see – Neb was sighing in dismay. He had an odd scrunched look upon his face, and he was curled up in the fetus position.

          “How am I supposed to life like this!” Neb demanded.

          “All these bloody synchronicities, manifestations and freaking reality shifts are making me feel very uncomfortable.” Neb pouted. Neb tried to imagine his happy place, any happy place would do, but all he could muster was the thought of white buns and spider webs.

          “Is not this the point of The Shift?” asked a voice in Nebs head.

          “Why bloody not!”

          “You don’t know where I’ve just come from, and what I was doing, and what I’ve seen with my very eyes.” Neb moaned.

          “So your afraid yet once again, my friend. You fear a lot of things, and have many beliefs about your shelf, elf, I mean self.” said the voice.

          “My thoughts manifest in an instant, and usually not in a pleasant way. No not at all, and most uncomfortably obvious too.” said Neb.

          “That’s splendid!”

          “Sounds to me like your shifting right along, and from what you’ve said, you are allowing your reality to shift quite easily.”

          “With ease!?” shouted Neb.

          “Its a bloody mess, is what it is. I seem to attract just what I don’t want, and rarely what I do, and this is all to much for me to accept.”

          A pink poodle with twenty or so linked sausages in its mouth strolled up to Neb. The poodle grinned, and dropped the sausages in front of Neb, then strutted in a westward direction.

          Neb looked at the sausages, and cringed.

          #2156

          In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            “Who else?, as a matter of fact, Dr Whoohelz,” he winked unapologetically.

            “Oh, that?” he added knowingly to the glaring lady. “Did you know pink tutus made from pink panthers’ hides are a symbol of power in most old African countries.”

            Meanwhile, Luigi, the hapless driver and his scooter, and the land beneath them had moved and groaned a good few meters further away from the doctor.

            #2488
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              While in the other Eightic Dimension, Lilac —catching a new weebit of inspiration— suddenly went off for a good old clue-hunt and some air-fishing of these whoohoo sparkling flying goldfishes (her morning cup of herbal coffree smelt like concrete today) — meanwhile, in the Peasland Dimension, the aliens had indeed departed. Not without leaving behind a sweet smell of peer compote that nobody knew for sure whether or not it should be considered slightly ominous.
              As it should, the Saucerers who had been consulted on that matter had nothing better to do but further enhance the confusion. They all started to dread the arrival of a new species… Strawberries aliens.

              #2707

              In reply to: Strings of Nines

              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                “W-a-t-e-r-f-r-i-n-g-i-n-m-e-l-o-n … yes still way too short!” Yikesy wasn’t really the party type and felt ridiculous wearing a bowler hat. While the others were engaged in general merriment precipitated by the arrival of the champagne, he surreptitiously removed the map from Minky’s backpack.

                He scanned the map till he found what he was looking for.

                Meanwhile ….

                Arona giggled. “Look at that sign! Waakaawaakawaawaawaawaawaawaawahuhun! I want to go there!”

                Mandrake raised an elegant eyebrow. “I suppose it is as good as anywhere, considering we have no idea where we are going.”

                “I will run ahead and make sure it is safe.” announced Vincentius melodically. “You rest Arona, and eat these delicious sandwiches I whipped up earlier.”

                “And shall I lick her feet for you while we wait?” asked the sarcastic Mandrake.

                “Splendid idea. Thank you Mandrake!”

                #2465

                Meanwhile, however, the bridge tarts were very busy. There was plenty of tartying and bridging going on in the Elsespace arrangement, and out of it.

                #2463

                Meanwhile, Landelin was perfecting his blubbit duct-tape traps.

                Landelin was a quite reclusive man, some Peaslanders considered him even a bit mentally challenged with a reputation for having teafing as a secondary hobby. Yes, secondary. Before teafing, came duct tape ; duct tape always came first.
                Landelin had been fond of duct tape since he was a kid, since he’d glued his first nanny to the cellar door and then went off buying more duct tape at the local grocery store with the money he’d teafed from her. Teafing always came second.

                Plagued as all Peaslanders with blubbits, he’d reasoned, quite reasonably for someone as mentally challenged as him, that blubbits were like worries and warts (and he knew quite a bit about the former and the latter), and none could stand a chance if administered the right amount of duct tape. By right amount, he meant, as much as needed to cover them in silver linings and eventually, maybe erradicate them —but that was a bit besides the point anyway.

                Pity there wasn’t more than a few blue pelts’ hair to teaf from a blubbit, he thought quite reasonably again, as his last prototrap worked like a charm and had a few blubbits suffocating under a fair amount of stickiness.

                Well, from blubbits, perhaps not so much, but from Peaslanders waiting for naught but a savior, maybe… After all the other treatments have failed, they surely would turn, as they all do, willingly or forcibly, to the raw power of taping.

                #2440
                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  Meanwhile, Phurt was distraught.
                  Perhaps it was an unfortunate consequence of her experimental breading but the thing was… she didn’t seem capable of spawning anything else than little hot buns.

                  #2399

                  Meanwhile, in the orchard of Tilston Aches, where the travelling Peaslanders just arrived

                  “I don’t know what’s brewing in this dimension, but I get a reaaaaally baaaaaaaaaad feeling…” the Aunties kept repeating gloomily to each other.

                  #2396

                  Meanwhile somewhere else in the Eight’s, where the cuckoo sang the new year’s song

                  Harvey had been quick to wish his friends Aspidistra a merry new year full of reindeer pee by the gallon dripping from the roof. That’s how they wished the best to their friends here. And sure he wanted the best for Aspidistra.

                  Now he had to find the shaman, because that shadow leaping on the wall was that much he couldn’t bear. He had to buy that new light sprayer and have it cursed by the shaman of the Space Bar of the Fool Breadth (or was it Foul Breath?) to have it move to the light, and quick, that frigging bugger of a shadow.

                  In the meantime, he firmly believed that were he to keep being merry, it would repel it away further and further.
                  So, his mood was twittery, and he felt like singing, and dancing, and hoola hooping with all the furniture and cutlery available in the mouldy cupboards all finely balanced on his nose and appendages, all the way down to the metro.

                  #2291
                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    Meanwhile, Pr. Gub was preparing her new course in Artistic Making of Interdimensional Bleedthroughs (AMIB for short), which her alien origin made her extremely entitled to teach. The course was more commonly known as “Crop Circle Making” inside the Worseversity, and was quite a hit every year (and one could believe not only because of the mistaken association of ‘Crops’ with Special Crops :yahoo_hypnotized: ), so that only the most motivated and creative students could enlist.

                    Aaeiulie Gub’s new design was done. Among copious sacred and profane geometric, she had chosen for it the overall shape of her favourite animal on this planet, a glaring glamorous owl. Now that the design was almost done (there was always a little leeway for improvisation every time, especially when the farmers wouldn’t like it), they would gather in one of the serene spots of the Worseversity’s park to manifest it in other dimensions…

                    #2575

                    In reply to: Strings of Nines

                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Meanwhile, back in the Elsespace Arrangement, another probable Becky was pushing coloured pins in a map of the known physical world in an attempt to plan her next possible probable journey. The first pin had landed squarely on New York, but the pin had inexplicably promptly fallen off the map, landing in the dark green foliage of the potted Aspidistra. Probable Becky had a box of 100 little coloured pins, so she chose another pin, closed her eyes, turned round three times, and stuck another pin on the map.

                      :world:

                      #2564

                      In reply to: Strings of Nines

                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        Yoland woke up feeling lighter somehow. The sun was shining, the young puppy, Phunn, scampered about without a care in the world as she perused the morning mail. The random daily Circle of Eight’s quote once again delighted her, synchronizing with her recent meditation.

                        Fiona woke suddenly from a dream. In her dream she had been communicating with her online friends, through drawings and messages. She had been trying so hard to convey something, and the more she tried to say it, the more distant they felt to her.

                        She had woken feeling saddened. Her energy was greatly disturbed, and, unable to get back to sleep straight away, she meditated. She felt herself connect with the energy of a Snowy Owl, who invited her wordlessly to ask her questions. The Owl’s eyes seemed to have such a depth of wisdom and kindness, and no sooner had her thoughts begun to ask their questions, than she would feel the Owl’s answer merge with her own knowing.

                        She felt herself being able to say without words what she had tried so hard in her dream to convey, and understanding there was no need for any effort, she felt greatly comforted, and peaceful sleep swept over her again.”

                        Yoland had sent an email to her freind KX about her meditation, as her freind had unexpectedly popped up in it, in a wonderful pastel watercolour world:

                        The elevator stopped with a shudder and the doors slammed open. The landscape looked a bit too airy fairy for me (not real enough, haha!) and I nearly got back in the elevator. It was all aqua blue and pastel and floaty, like a watercolour world. Then I saw you, waving your arms around, painting the air with trails of pastel colours with your fingertips. You were smiling and wearing a pale blue shirt. You wrapped me round with spirals of colours from your fingertips and then I flew upwards into the dark blue. You tossed me a paper toilet roll to use as a silver cord, which I tossed back to you after a bit cos it felt a bit silly, and then you sent a burst of colours as an acknowledgement

                        KX had responded:

                        Yoland!!That is very very cool! I’ve been “out there”! I’ll bet you I was changing the toilet paper roll at the moment you were in the Watercolor World ! Meanwhile so many things are coming together for me in how to create and how to hold my attention where I want it… Imagination is a key ~ Love you! I will beam over in a minute. KX”

                        Smiling, Yoland checked the latest blog updates. Sahila had posted some Possum photos, and the first thing that Yoland saw was the white owl in the fork of the tree behind the possum.

                        :creating_magic:

                        #1252

                        Jobson Batt and Ernie Young were taking a vacation in between so called natural disasters, as the financial disaster claimed the populations attention. They knew that the result of the energy being pushed from pillar to post as everyone fretted and worried about the monetary system would manifest in some natural disasters, and they knew they would have their work cut out as highly skilled members of the DDT team (otherwise known as Disaster Damage Team) in due course. Meanwhile, they had the foresight to take a well earned break while the attention of the population was otherwise engaged.

                        Unable to settle on just one destination, they opted for a World Cruise.

                        :fleuron:

                        Evangeline Spiggot slammed the telephone down. Another call from someone wanting that other DDT company, Dead Dick Tracy Productions. Business was slow at Disaster Damage Team, with Jobson and Ernie on holiday, but Evangeline was left holding the fort, just in case a major disaster came in, in which case she would inform Jobson and Ernie on their cruise ship. It was boring sitting there alone in the office though, and Evangeline decided that the next wrong number she answered, she would pretend to be Dead Dick Tracy, just for a laugh.

                        #1242

                        “Bugger if that’s this itchy rug thingie, but I start sheddin’ ‘ere!”

                        But the two others were too engrossed looking at the tile to noticed Mavis pulling handfuls of hair off her back… :yahoo_at_wits_end:

                        Meanwhile in the captain’s empty quarters, while his dog Kay was playing remembrance games with the ladies who were more and more adept at configuring him visually, Akita was perplexed by the name on the maps of an unlikely sea towards which they were blissfully sailing…

                        #2155

                        In reply to: The Story So Far

                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          Tikfijikoo Island (continued)

                          (see this comment for previous part)

                          Mahiliki comes crashing down the island (with the pilot) having Veranassessee dumbfounded and speechless.

                          Rafaela leads Paquita and Jose through their dreams into acceptance of their facial conditions, and out of the island’s experiments through a secret passageway underground.
                          As well, Anita leads her parents away from the island, through a tunnel, thanks to the intervention of her favourite team of “invisible” essence friends. She bids Akita goodbye as he’s drawn to the impromptu fiesta by Mavis and tells him he shall see his spirit dog again.

                          Meanwhile, Sha and Glo discover some strange hairiness side-effects to their absorption of honeycomb.

                          [Fast forward a few weeks later.]

                          Apparently Dory and young Becky who were going to Tikfijikoo discover the island is placed under quarantine.
                          All clues indicate the vortex activities, cyclones, and mad spider experiments have put the international security at risk.

                          Veranassessee is reporting the situation at the local headquarters of the Confregation (likely to be fired), while Mahiliki and the pilot are under scrutiny to check their stories…

                          We find the three divas, Sharon, Gloria and Mavis with a little more hair, but not less slickness, in a military hospital on nearby Antarctica. Akita was brought there too, in solitary confinement because he pretends to be a WWII soldier and to be guided by a speaking dog (which is all real of course, but you never know). They soon plan to escape.

                          Madame Chesterhope, who was unwillingly rescued on the submarine of captain Pavel is placed in some sort of detention.
                          Meanwhile, Claude has visibly gotten back to Jarvis who had managed to get the crystal skull amidst the island’s confusion. They now both are on the submarine, toasting on the success of the operation of crystal skull’s retrieval.

                          Balbina, an old lady living in the future timeline in Venezuela (same timeline as Anita and her parents) is moved to her son’s home, nearby old caves were she expects Anita and her parents may soon resurface.

                          #1135

                          — “Dory?”
                          — “What, hon’?” a distracted Dory answered to young Becky
                          — “You’d better remove the magnets from the iron, or you’ll ruin another one…”
                          — “What are you talking about?!” Dory was perplexed, trying to find her way through the airport to Gate 57-¾, but only to find nothing but benches in between Gate 57 and 58.
                          — “Oh, never mind… It’s only a dream and you probably won’t remember it anyway.”

                          “There!” the suspicious bag lady of the Heathrow terminal had reappeared briefly just for Dory to spot her entering the restrooms.
                          Becky was already rolling the heavy bumper-stickers patched suitcase to follow her without question.

                          — “But why are you taking the suitcase to go to the bathroom, Beck’?”
                          — “What are you talking about Dory!” Becky was sometimes losing patience. “Can’t you see it’s the entrance for Gate 57-¾?!”
                          — “Uh?” A moment of clueless mystery on Dory’s face. “Oh…” Another mini-black hole on her face.

                          “Oh. Okay then. Let’s go…”

                          If there was something that her exotic life had taught Dory, it was to never question the moment. If the circumstances are here, if the impulse is there, then go for it. Explanations will follow. And in case they don’t, make them up as you roll and rock!

                          Becky meanwhile was rather surprised at how people, even her own step-mother, as tuned in ghostly stuff as she was, most of the time failed to see the things for what they really are. And if these big painted letters on the door “GATE 57 ¾” weren’t obvious enough, and people preferred to interpret them as restrooms, then… what else could be done? She sighed.
                          Later on, she would learn that it was a common, well documented trait in human consciousness; that people were sometimes psychologically (but not physically) blind to stuff outside of their current focus of attention, or simply blind to things too far off their beliefs; in other terms, it was a matter of energy reconfiguration. As long as it worked…

                          “Oh look at that… Yukailli Airlines counter is here! What bloody stupid idea to put a closet door at the entrance…”

                          After having made the departure arrangements at the counter, Dory came back to Becky who was looking outside at the planes.

                          — “Ain’t them beautiful?”
                          — “Yeah, and I suppose you’re seeing planes, aren’t you?”
                          — “Err, yes of course, what else, silly… Though now you ask me, they seem a bit weird… foggy or something”.

                          In fact, what Becky was seeing wasn’t conventional planes. It was more like “fly-boats”. Some sorts of hybrid ships made to fly with huge wings transparent and shiny like those of flies.

                          — “I hope they have crunchy coleslaw for meal, I’m starving” a contented and tired Dory said, when she collapsed into the comfortable seats.

                          #2149

                          In reply to: The Story So Far

                          ÉricÉric
                          Keymaster

                            Tikfijikoo Island (continued)

                            (synopsis)

                            It starts with the Dr doing some evil tests on that remote island; he’s with the nurse Bellamy, whose forte is coconut tree frog-leaping, and Veranessesseesessesses with her impossible name (V’ass)
                            We then learn the Dr is mad, and his researches are financed by an occult organization, who V’ass is working for, to check on their assets; he’s mad but brilliant.

                            He’s a bit of a transvestite too (fullname Chris Bronklehampton)
                            The organization has given him a machine in which there is a crystal skull, unknown to him. This crystal skull seems linked to spiders somehow and his researches on spiders genome (blue bonnet), but we only know it’s coveted by many people. It’s all happening in our dimension, roughly at our time.

                            (Where Leo and Bea are renting Jose’s house and they are Dory’s and Dan timeframe ie: now)

                            The first experiences give dreadful results; there is Sasha (mummified by the doctor) who’s dead, and now speaks with the Dr; and there is Claude, who gained super strength and madness, and escaped the island facility.
                            Claude is one of those working with the Mad Baron ; he’s on a undercover mission to get the skull
                            (The false Viscountess —lady in salmon— at the auction was also working for the baron)

                            So Claude escapes but there is another mysterious person looking for the skull; it’s Madame Chesterhope, and she’s sent the magpies to steal it. The magpies are from another dimension, they are famous stealers.
                            Claude encounters the magpies on their mission. He’s captured in an energy labyrinth they have set on the island temporarily, to cover their tracks.

                            Meanwhile, Sha and Glo have arrived. Dory wanted to go but she couldn’t find the airline (bag lady)…
                            And Mavis later explains in a comment (555) how they all got involved in that adventure. She takes some time to convince her husband, and get to go to Tikfijikoo too. During the flight correspondence, she gets to know Paquita and Joselito.

                            On the island, the Dr is losing it seriously. He talks to the dead mummy, and had blond wig and stuff.
                            V’ass is reacquainting herself with the Italian of her secret organization, to report on the Dr. (insert steamy sex scene :)) ) )

                            Dory is back at Gib, with Dan and young Becky and later, her friends Yurick and Yann came to visit; go see Salitre :)
                            She has knowledge of Leo and Bea (Fletcher) – at whose place there are skulls too.

                            On the island, everything starts to get crazy; since Sha and Glo arrived
                            The magpies are ready to strike as a cyclone is coming.
                            Claude has recovered his memory and is no longer mad; but he’s still trapped and tries to find an escape in a strange tree. He goes into another dimension, the giant spiders’ one.
                            In this dimension there are a few human survivors. There is young Anita, and her mummified parents, but still alive from a plane crash; and a stranded soldier from WWII, named “Akita”, who’s got a spirit dog with him he’d found on the spider island.
                            They somehow managed to survive in the giant spider’s jungle (the island is on top of a sort of Bermuda triangle).

                            Anita is in communication with our four essences, who can manifest easily in this spider dimension and our essences are aware of an dimensional gate opening (the cyclone).
                            All this people get together and succeed in escaping through the wortex.

                            So now, that explains the people around the campfire on Tikfijikoo. It was all relatively brief, during the storm, where the others were sheltered on the facility (thanks to V’ass who cared for the careless Sha and Glo)

                            Sha and Glo find out the magpies trying to pry the computer open where the skull is hidden; they crush the magpies with coconuts bra slings (exit the magpies in purple blood ;)) )
                            They find the strange crystal skull they mistakenly think is some apparatus like an UV lamp. They take it to the UV room and plug it; it starts to project all sorts of lights
                            They want to dance, because it’s like a disco.

                            Meanwhile, one giant spider has managed to sneak through the portal, and goes close to them, but she gets sidetracked by the lightened skull and gets shrunk to a small size… and gets crushed by Sha and Glo (they’re the heroines of the day, but they don’t know squat ;)) )

                            There is also a honeycomb subplot with a man named Jarvis on the island, with beehives.

                            Now: Sha and Glo are dancing, Mavis is going out attracted by the campfire, finding out the survivors (The campfire was there because it’s night, and Claude is wary of the island’s owners, because he was abducted and mummified). The Dr is mad as ever.
                            The skull is in the UV room, but they don’t know what it is — only Madame Chesterhope and Claude are knowing (possibly Jarvis and V’ass); but Mme Chesterhope is flung into the ocean crashing into Mahiliki’s plane recently :))

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