Search Results for 'sophie'

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  • #4744

    In reply to: The Stories So Near

    EricEric
    Keymaster

      Newer developments

      POP-IN THREAD (Maeve, Lucinda, Shawn-Paul, Jerk, [Granola])

      Granola is popping in and out of the stories, exploring interacting more physically with her friends through Tiku, a bush lady focus of hers.
      Luckily (not so coincidentally) Maeve and Shawn-Paul were given coupons to travel from their rural Canada town to the middle of Australia. Maeve is suspicious of being followed by a strange man, and tags along with Shawn-Paul to keep a cover of a young couple. Maeve is trying to find the key to the doll that she made in her secret mission for Uncle Fergus, which has suddenly reappeared at her friend Lucinda’s place. She’ll probably is going to have to check on the other dolls that she made as well.
      Jerk continues to administrate some forum where among other things, special dolls are found and exchanged, and he moderates some strange messages.
      Lucinda is enjoying Fabio’s company, Maeve’s dog, that she has in her care while Maeve is travelling.

      FLYING FISH INN THREAD (Mater/Finly, Idle/Coriander/Clove, Devan, Prune, [Tiku])

      The mysteries of the Flying Fish Inn seem to unravel slowly, like Idle’s wits.
      Long time family member are being drawn inexplicably, such as Prune and brother Devan. The local bush lady Tiku is helping Finly with the catering, although Finly would rather do everything by herself. The totemic Fish was revealed to be a talisman placed here against bad luck – “for all the good it did” (Mater).
      Bert, thought to be an old flame of Mater, who’s acted for the longest time as gardener, handyman and the likes, is revealed to be the father of Prune, Devan, Coriander and Clove’s mother. Mater knew of course and kept him around. He was trained in codes during his time with the military, and has a stash of potentially dangerous books. He may be the key to the mystery of the underground tunnels leading to the mines, and hidden chests of gold. Devan is onto a mystery that a guy on a motorbike (thought to be Uncle Fergus of Maeve’s story) told him about.

      DOLINE THREAD (Arona, Sanso/Lottie, Ugo, Albie)

      Mandrake & Albie after a trip in the bayou, and looking for the dragon Leormn’s pearls and the sabulmantium, have finally found Arona after they have emerged from the interdimentional water network from the Doline, to the coast of Australia in our reality, where cats don’t usually talk.
      Albie is expecting a quest, while the others are just following Arona’s lead, as she is in possession of a mysterious key with 3 words engraved.
      After some traveling in hot air balloon, and with a local jeep, they have arrived at a local Inn in the bush, with a rather peculiar family of owners, and quite colorful roster of guests. That’s not even counting the all-you-can-eat lizard meat buffet. What joy.

      NEWSREEL THREAD (Ms Bossy, Hilda/Connie, Sophie, Ricardo)

      Ms Bossy is looking to uncover the Doctor’s surely nefarious plans while her newspaper business isn’t doing so well. She’s got some help from Ricardo the intern. They have found out that the elderly temp worker who’s fascinated by the future, Sophie (aka Sweet Sophie) had been the first subject of the Doctor’s experiments. Sophie has been trying to uncover clues in the dreams, but it’s just likely she is still a sleeper agent of the Doctor.
      Despite all common sense and SMS threats, Hilda & Connie have gone in Australia to chase a trail (from a flimsy tip-off from Superjerk that may have gone to Lucinda to her friend journalist). They are in touch with Lucinda, and post their updates on social media, flirting with the risk of being uncovered and having trouble come at their door.
      Sha, Glo and Mavis are considering reaching out for a vacation of the nursing home to get new free beauty treatments.
      In his secret lair, the Doctor is reviving his team of brazen teafing operatives: the magpies.

      LIZ THREAD (Finnley, Liz, Roberto, Godfrey)

      Not much happened as usual, mostly an entertaining night with Inspector Melon who is quizzing Liz’ about her last novel about mysterious messages hidden in dolls with secret keys, which may be her best novel yet…

      DRAGON 💚 WOOD THREAD (Glynnis, Eleri, Fox/Gorrash, Rukshan)

      Before Rukshan goes to the underworld land of Giants, he’s going to the cottage to gather some of his team of friends, Fox, Ollie etc. Glynis is taking care of Tak during Margoritt’s winter time in the city. Margoritt’s sister, Muriel is an uninvited and unpleasant guest at the cottage.
      Tak is making friends with a young girl who may have special powers (Nesy).
      The biggest mystery now is… is the loo going to get fixed in time?

      #4738
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        “Perhaps it’s an anagram,” Ricardo ventured tentatively, “Look: INNFOODAWFUL is an anagram of “I found lawn of”, see?” He cleared his throat nervously, demoralized by the agitated energy in the room. Everyone was looking at him expectantly, so he bumbled on: “All we need to do it work out the rest…”

        Exasperated looks were exchanged around the room, making Ricardo feel a fool. He was just about to excuse himself for a trip to the lavatory to wring his hands in private (hangovers always had that effect on him), when Miss Bossy tart herself piped up excitedly, “Wait a minute, by George I think he might be on to something!”

        Sophie cast a skeptical eye in her direction, as Ricardo plopped back down in his chair with an audible sigh of relief. He reached for his water bottle with a trembling hand and took a swig. God, his mouth was dry.

        AHOYSICKICONGRIN is “shack in Congo!” the Boss Tart continued. “Of course!” she said, slapping her forehead.

        Ricardo tittered.

        #4736
        EricEric
        Keymaster

          “UN-BE-LIE-VA-BLE!” Miss Bossy was flustered. “The cheek of those two!”

          She was ranting, rather elegantly, with lipstick and all, as she’d found a little agitation to go a long way in expelling the sluggishness. Her meditation teacher, Lim Monk had told her “Abundance of quantity isn’t going to tempt you into a frenzy of delete, so long as you keep trying”; so she felt compelled to meditate the funk out of this no man’s plot.

          “They’ve been there for THREE DAYS, three bloody full days, with wifi and access, and they are only sending news now!”

          Ricardo was looking mutely at the scene, not daring to move a muscle.

          “Can you believe it, and to say I almost got worried about them!”
          “…”
          AND Look at the cryptic sheet they send me: QUOTE “Ahoy! Inn food awful, sick icon grin.” UNQUOTE. Now, what should I make of that?”

          She walked energetically to Sophie and planted her arms in front of her desk, waking up from her nap.

          Sophie blinked twice, and said:
          “I know you’re like me, fond about old-fashioned technology, but you should really consider throwing your pager to the waste bin; if you’d been on faecebrook, you’d see Hilda and Connie’s blog is pretty active. Look! They can’t stop posting stuff there, even when they were in the plane…”

          #4715
          EricEric
          Keymaster

            Miss Bossy Pants was losing patience. If it weren’t for the heat spell that made her cat-like reflexes duller than usual, she would have shredded the hippie yurt that Ricardo had built for Sophie, that useless temp too fast promoted.

            She had to reason with herself, although she didn’t like that. Mostly because she always agreed with the devil on her shoulder. “OK, I’ll give them a chance to fish for key information.”

            Truth was, there was already enough evidence that Sophie’s brain was mush, and probably heavily tampered with by the Doctor. Who knows what that maniac might have planted as post-hypnotic suggestions in such a suggestible mind. There was little doubt that if she’d escaped, she was actually probably still a pawn he could control.

            She liked a worthy opponent. It would be so much more satisfying to crush him in the end.

            Her phone buzzed.
            “in oz, on ourwya to hippicenter gto grdbraeknig inforamton keep cool hilda &c.”

            Well there was good news after all. She started to list them to give her heart:

            1. Hilda remembered how to spell her own name
            2. She had not lost or broken her company phone
            3. They were not dead or maimed or enhanced yet, so clumsy as they were, they’d probably managed to stay off the radar of the Doctor.

            Of course, the other things she’d learned in that short moment was probably outweighing the silver lining:

            3. She had probably an insane roaming bill to the company phone
            4. They’d continued to max out the credit card to pursue the topic
            5. Clumsy as they were, it was surely a matter of time before they alerted the Doctor to their investigation.

            She thought quick and fast, while waving her fan figorously (it was a modesty hiding fan). Punching the screen of her phone, she typed.

            “Had breakthru too. Sophie was one of the dolls – need to find keys to dirty secrets & coded map to intercept = hashtag bigger than wee key leaks.”

            There, that should keep them occupied and well on track with the wild goose chase, while she devised a plan B.

            #4711
            AvatarJib
            Participant

              The aircon was buzzing and Sophie walked in her pajamas through the open space to reach her dreaming base. That’s how she secretly called it. She could feel the eyes of her colleagues following her, and as usual she felt proud to be the center of attention. It didn’t matter that it was jealousy or anything else. People were looking at her and she was doing something different.

              Once in her base of operation, she settled on the couch and looked at the brew that had been brought for her. It was her second attempt at remote viewing the Doctor and this time she had requested a bucket and some padding around the sharp corners. She feared a little the unleashing of her wild nature, but in truth she had no idea what to expect. She had read on the Internet that there was nothing to fear and that there would be no side effects, and usually with her natural paranoia she would have double checked before using the drugs, but her obsession with the Doctors had rendered her a little bit… more reckless.

              She pinched her nose and swallowed the brew. One gulp. But some of it stayed in her mouth and nausea followed. She didn’t like the taste at all. Then she laid down the couch and waited. The effects weren’t long to come. Space lit up, soon followed by the usual geometrical dynamic animation and the strange floating spirits. One of them looked like her old nanny. She had a hair on her chin and Sophie couldn’t focus on anything else. The hair grew and multiplied on the face, it was soon a forest of wiggling glowing worms growing indefinitely.

              After what seemed an eternity to her, she saw the doors. A huge circle made of doors like a giant neckless. Sophie giggled at the typo especially that she could see the neckless giant now below the doors. It was definitely a male, with boobs covered by skulls.

              Find the door, she reminded herself. Her thought took the shape of a butterflowck —understand a flow of a flock of butterflies— that rippled in a pond of honey… suckles.

              It reached the door and she was sucked in.

              :fleuron:

              “Why are they doing this?” asked a male voice behind her. “They’re supposed to be magpies, not monkeys.”
              “I’m not sure,” said a bald woman with six fingers and an ethereal beehive hairdo. The strange thing was that she had a beard.
              “Do something quick. I need them operational soon” said the man, “You’re the one controlling them after all,” he added with poison in his voice.
              “Yes, Doctor.”

              Sophie startled at the name. She turned around and tried to look at the man, but he was headless, or rather pixelated. Shit! I watch too much science fiction, she thought.

              “Anyway,” he continued. What are the news on the dolls’ front?”
              “We are closing in on the next target, Doctor. It’s a small Inn in Australia where the vortex or probabilities converge. I took the liberty to send another sleeping agent there to steal the key and the list of other addresses from the dollmaker. He’s taking the same airplane as she is.”

              #4708
              AvatarJib
              Participant

                The thoughts of Miss Bossy asking him to torture sweet Sophie still bothered Ric while he went out to look for the reporter. Could he even call her that, he suspected most of her articles were fake news and even if they had at some point come from a seed of truth, they were so transformed by her retelling that it was impossible to prove them in any direction, be it false or true.

                Ric found sweet Sophie sleeping on the couch of the waiting room in a very unwomanly position. Fortunately she didn’t wear a skirt. Her mouth was wide open and a stream of saliva was dropping from her chin. She even snored. Ric was put off by her pink trousers and electric blue jacket. Did she colour her hair? he thought. They looked a bit purple.

                Sweet Sophie snorted and emerged from slumber totally unaware she was observed.

                “Oh! Dear time travel Goddess! What a dream!” she said. “Ric. You come at the right time. I have to tell you some revelations about the Doctor!”

                ***

                “What?” asked Miss Bossy when Ric told her about Sophie’s dream. “Nonsense! Sweet Sophie having precognitive dreams? Time travel wasn’t enough for that old hag. And you’re saying she requested a daydreaming room to continue her investigations, with ambiant music and ayahuasca? I’m not financing her drug cravings.”

                ***

                Sophie entered the dark room. She didn’t think it would work, to ask Ric for the daydreaming room. She tried the couch. Soft but not too soft, hard enough for her back. Oh! Sweet Time Lord, what a relief from the open space chair. An instrument of torture if you asked her.

                She had developed an obsession with the Doctor, and it all came from a dream she had just before Ric found her. In that dream, she was really attracted to the Doctor—who looked just like an old crush of her—, and he was showing her his amazing inventions, telling her about his superior mind, his poignant history and all the great things he did during his famous time. So…yeah. She kind of finally fell in love with him for the second time. Then he confessed her he was so sorry for what he did, it made her cry almost. He said it was stupid of him and he still thought she is his daughter— that’s when she thought she had lost track of the dream timeline and in another moment she found another crazy coincidence that turns every possible event to pure insane: The Doctor has a new body. Not in the literal sense. He hasn’t even given it a whole new look. Instead, it has a completely bizarre look with its entire body filled with…

                That’s when she had awaken. That’s why she needed the couch and the room and the plant. She had seen in a video that it could help.

                Someone knocked at the door and brought in a silver plate with a steaming muddy potion.

                #4705
                EricEric
                Keymaster

                  Ric knees were shaking. He fumbled with the door knob, his voice barely audible as he faced Miss Boddy —he meant Bossy.

                  “We, we, we… We’re not seriously torturing poor old sweet Sophie, are you?”

                  Miss Bossy looked at Ric quizzically. “That’s what you thought we were doing? Do you think me demented?”

                  “Surely not, no! You’re very determined, distinguished… But demanding,…”
                  “Demented, Ric, please keep track, will you.”

                  She sighed, and dropped the wires. “Of course! This is a line that can’t be uncrossed.”

                  “And surely Sweet Sophie doesn’t need torture to spill the beans.”

                  “Why do you keep talking about torture? I was just rewiring the dual light switch. The electrician did such a poor job, the wires were all crossed, and it was driving me mad, you know. Having one switch up, and the other down… One up, the other down… Aargh!”

                  Ric’s face was mixed with relief and complete puzzlement.

                  “Enough talking about my OCDs, why Sweet Sophie isn’t here yet? Of course, we don’t need torture to get her to talk. That’s all she does besides sleeping. The tricky part will be to get her to focus of course. Can’t have her babble about WWII now, can we. That and her endless talking about time travel… Speaking of time, there’s hardly any to waste, there’s a mad Doctor on the loose doing awful human experiments on unsuspecting frail women to flush out, need I remind you.”

                  #4696
                  EricEric
                  Keymaster

                    Ricardo!” Miss Bossy shouted from her office she was rearranging into an office cum interrogation room.

                    “Yes, M’am!”

                    “Any news from our two insubordinate scouts?”
                    “I’m afraid not M’am. Phone coverage isn’t that good in the bush I hear.”
                    “Stop that nonsense! What tells you they’re aren’t just squandering my newspaper’s money over unearned mojitos doing precious nothing like gator’s watching on a beach, hmmm?”
                    “I think they’d call that gathering clues M’am.”

                    If Ricardo hadn’t be so earnest, she would have slapped him in the face for his attempt at humour, but he was blissfully unaware of the unwanted irony and impertinence of his retort.

                    You’re going soft… she mused to herself, while snapping electrical wires together making a splash of sparkles in the air. The makeshift interrogation room was ready.

                    Ric’! Bring Sweet Sophie!”

                    #4687
                    EricEric
                    Keymaster

                      Ric was confused as to why he found himself flushed and vaguely excited by Bossy Mam’s sudden and attractive outburst.
                      He was so glad the two harpies were off to goat knows where, or they would have tortured him with no end of gossiping.

                      Still troubled by the stirring of emotions, he looked around, and almost spilled the cup of over-infused lapsang souchong tea he had prepared. Miss Bossy was the only one to fancy the strong flavour in a way only a former chain smoker could.

                      Thankfully, she was still glaring at the window, and while he had no doubt he couldn’t hope to give her the slip for that sort of things, she probably had decided to just let it go.

                      He took the chance to run to the archives, and started to dig up all he could on the Doctor.
                      Sadly, the documents were few and sparse. Hilda and Connie were not known for their order in keeping records. Their notes looked more like herbariums from a botanist plagued with ADHD. But that probably meant there were lots of overlooked clues.

                      He flipped through the dusty pages for a good hour, eyes wet with allergies, and he was about to bring Miss Bossy the sorry pile he had collected when a light bulb lit in his mind.

                      How could I miss it!

                      He’d never thought about it, but now, a lot of it started to make sense.

                      Thinking about how Miss Bossy would probably be pleased by the news, he started to become red again, and hyperventilate.

                      Calm down amigo, think about your abuela, and her awful tapas,… thaaat’s it. Crème d’anchovies with pickled strawberries… Jellyfish soufflés with poached snail eggs on rocket salad.

                      His mind was rapidly quite sober again.

                      Taking the pile of notes, he landed it messily on the desk, almost startling Miss Bossy.

                      “Sorry for the interruption, M’am, but I may have found something…”
                      “Fine, there’s no need for theatrics, spill it!” Miss Bossy was ever the no-nonsense straight-to-business personality. Some would have called her rude, but they were ignorants, and possibly all dead now.

                      “There was a clue, hidden in the trail of Hilda’s collection. I’m not sure how we have missed it.”

                      “Ricardooo…” Miss Bossy’s voice was showing a soupçon of annoyance.

                      “Yes, pardon me, I’m digressing. Look! Right here!”

                      “What? How is it possible? Is that who I think it is?”

                      “I think so.”

                      They turned around to look across the hall at Sweet Sophie blissfully snoring.

                      “I think she was one of her first patient-slash-assistant.”

                      “How quaint. But, that explains a lot. Wait a minute. I thought none of his patients were ever found… alive?”

                      “Maybe she outsmarted him…”

                      They both weren’t too convinced about that. But they knew now old Sweet Sophie was probably unwittingly holding the key to the elusive Doctor.

                      #4662
                      EricEric
                      Keymaster

                        “I have to say,” Miss Bossy Pants took a dramatic pause for maximum effect “that you all have been incredulously industrious.”

                        “Is she insulting us again?” Hilda hissed at Connie.
                        “Shht! There’s no tellin’ with her…” Connie replied, as baffled as the other by the impromptu award ceremony.

                        “Ahem-hem-hm!” Miss Pants melodiously hummed and cleared her voice making sure she had everyone’s attention, which was quite a challenge, if you’d asked her. Of course, she relished a challenge.
                        “As I was saying, you all have been busy, and delivered well…”

                        “Aaah, that’s what she meant!” whispered Connie
                        “She should have said so, why all the confusing pistache?”
                        “You mean panache?”
                        “No, although I’d fancy a nice beer and lemonade.”

                        Once they had finished their sideways discussion, Miss Bossy had already gone to explain the first award category : “Most Stylistic Synchronistic Article”.

                        “It’s going to take a while” Ricardo winked at them, “considering all the articles you’ve produced this week only. But I wouldn’t discard the possibility of Sophie winning one yet.”

                        Both Connie and Hilda’s faces turned woebegone.

                        #4654
                        AvatarJib
                        Participant

                          The door snapped open and made a hole on the wall. Sophie entered shaking plane tickets she brandished like a Viking trophy. She paused, looked at the wall and said :
                          “Oops! Sorry for that. I don’t know my strength since that Doctor experimented on me. I never asked for that,” she added trying to put on a sorry face, but her shining eyes betrayed her mercilessly.

                          “Well, what about those plane tickets ?” asked Miss Bossy. “I don’t recall validating the expense.” She kept her lips tight and didn’t say for you but thought it very hard.

                          “You didn’t need to, someone sent them to me. Apparently they want me to investigate the China doll production and are sending me to…” she paused and looked at the destination. Her excited look faded away so fast that Ricardo and Miss Bossy looked at each other from the corner of their eyes. It was hard to maintain, but not impossible if you practiced yoga regularly.

                          “What?” asked Ricardo, a tad irritated by the interruption.

                          “Well, I thought they were sending me to China, but apparently they are sending me to
                          Finland to investigate the Suomenlinna Toy Museum… about their china dolls… Someone can take my place if they want,” said old Sophie.

                          Miss Bossy took the letter and read it quickly as only a boss can do.

                          “They specifically ask for you. I’m sorry, dear old Sophie, but we can’t spare our resources at the moment, you’ll have to go alone,” she offered her best bossy smile face ever. Her aunt Marcella would have been proud of her.

                          #4653
                          F LoveF Love
                          Participant

                            “Come on now,” said Ricardo. “Nobody has put anything out there about the dolls. Come and sit down on this nice comfy office chair and tell us what is going on. You will do yourself an injury running in those heels. Lovely shoes of course,” he added quickly.

                            Miss Bossy Pants glared at him suspiciously but allowed herself to be coaxed to the nearest office chair while Hilda and Connie raised their eyebrows and Sweet Sophie snorted.

                            “That’s right,” he said. “Just let me wipe that chair for you before you sit. Now, you tell us what’s going on while I make the tea. One sugar?”

                            Hilda and Connie made gagging noises.

                            Slimy creep, hissed Connie.

                            “No hurry then,” said Hilda. “We’ve only been waiting half an hour for tea already.”

                            Miss Bossy Pants wiped her forehead with a tea towel, too relieved to question what a tea towel was doing on the desk. She pulled her phone out and scrolled through her messages.

                            “I received this,” she said. “Read it out will you, Ric. I can’t stand to look at it again.”

                            “Put a lid on the doll story or you will be sorry. And I mean very sorry Very very sorry,” read Ric. “Hmmm rather unimaginative as threats go, don’t you think?”

                            “Scroll through to the next one.”

                            “By the way, it’s the DOCTOR sending this, in case you think for one moment this is an unimaginative idle threat.”

                            #4645
                            EricEric
                            Keymaster

                              It had been a day of full work for Ricardo, rather than his frequently dull work at the paper.
                              Connie and Hilda were crazily busy bouncing off bits of odd news to each other and it was a sort of playful banter that even had Sweet Sophie come out of her pre-lunch-post-lunch slumber that occasionally trailed until tea time.

                              News of the Rim had been scarce, there was no denying. Honestly, he wondered how Bossy M’am managed to still pay the bills and their wages, however meager those (or his) were. He giggled thinking about how she probably scared the debt collectors off their wits with her best impersonation of Johnny Depp playing Jack Sparrow playing Tootsie meets Freddy Krueger.

                              Speaking of which, he couldn’t help but eavesdrop, while pretending to clean the coffee cups and the butter knives full of vegemite and scone crumbs.

                              “Dolls! Are you daft? What about all those crop circles in France instead?”
                              “Listen, you decrepit tart, I’m telling you there’s plenty to investigate about this Findmy stuff group. Secret dolls scattered around the world, masonic occult secret symbols…”
                              “Hardly matter for an insert on 4th page, dear. While on the other hand, elongated skulls, secret underground bases in Antarctica…”
                              “We talked about this! Conspiracy theories are off limits! We only want the real stuff, the odd happenings that hits your neighbour that you wouldn’t have known about without us reporting it! But dolls! that’s something, no?”
                              “Flimsy at best…”
                              “What else then?”
                              “I don’t know, seesh, what about Hundreds attending two frogs wedding in India ?”
                              “Already covered, too mainstream…”
                              “What about the Mothman of Tchernobyl?”
                              “We stopped cryptozoology, remember, after that pathetic chase after the trenchcoat ape that got us torpedoed in the other paper rags when we reported it without checking our facts?”
                              “Facts! FACTS! Don’t you get me started about FACTS!”

                              Suddenly, they both turned simultaneously at Ricardo, seemingly realizing his presence.

                              Ric’, this cuppa isn’t going to make itself, dear.” They both said like a couple of creepily synched automatons.

                              #4106
                              EricEric
                              Keymaster

                                “Look,” Ricardo pointed out to Bossy, “Seems you’re worrying too much, I just got a SMS from Connie, they’re all fine.”

                                “Glad they’re putting the newspaper subsides to good use…” snickered Bossy, thinking about the rather large phone bills Hilda used to put on her expenses. She could only wish that Connie would be more reasonable with overseas phone calls. “Anyway,” Bossy sighed “what is it exactly that she managed to say in less than 160 characters?”

                                Ricardo fumbled over his phone’s message history “She, she just replied… hang on, here:”

                                We're fine. Sophie is her usual weird, and we are following a lead to a nearby clinic.
                                PS: Food's horrid, and the latest fashion is from the 60s.

                                “You stupid boy!” Bossy jumped out of her chair. “Don’t you see she’s sending you a clue. Not is all fine. There’s only one explanation for that 60s fashion resurgence, and you better hope it doesn’t smell like coconut!”

                                #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.

                                  #4081
                                  AvatarJib
                                  Participant

                                    Sophie looked dubiously at the shampoo bottle. It was smaller than the ones she was used to in the US, and It was written kókosolía. She had no idea what it meant but the picture underneath looked vaguely like two big coconuts.

                                    She opened it, pressed the bottle to smell what was inside, then poured a bit of the white substance into her palm. No doubt there was coconut inside. She touched it. It was very oily. Maybe it was not shampoo after all. She looked at the other bottles. None smelled as good as the first one. She decided to give it a try.

                                    After her shower she felt rejuvenated. It was like the old times, with her husband Bob they used to travel a lot and stay in all kinds of hotel. She always loved that moment when she was drying her hair and Bob would sneak in behind her and take her into his arms. She sighed. Nope, that would not happen today.

                                    She almost jumped when she realized her hair was inflating. She had very thin hair usually and they were rather close to her head, but today it looked like they had a new life. She wondered if it would deflate as soon as she’d stop the hot hair. She hesitated but it looked almost done. She turned off the power and the hair stayed up.

                                    She heard a knock at the door. She wondered who that could be.

                                    Sophie. It’s me”, said Connie’s voice.
                                    “A moment said Sophie.” She put her old clothes on. She didn’t take much with her in her suitcase, she didn’t have enough room for clothes with all her apparatus. She checked her hair one last time, still up. Then she opened the door.

                                    They looked at each other and said at the same time : “Oh! You used the coconut shampoo too.”
                                    “Let’s have diner”, said Connie. “As for the hair, I bumped into other guests, and the ladies all seem to have the beehive haircut.”

                                    #4071

                                    “Thanks,” said Bossy taking her cup of tea.

                                    “So, tell me more about this evil fruit-loop doctor,” said Ricardo with an encouraging smile.

                                    Bossy looked intently at him. “It’s no joke,” she admonished him sharply.

                                    “Oh, no. No, of course not. I mean, yeah, I really want to know. It all sounds very … intriguing. And sort of creepy, to be honest. But definitely not a joke.”

                                    Bossy relented and gestured imperatively for Ricardo to be seated.

                                    The doctor could best be described as a mad genius. He believed he had found the answer to looking eternally youthful but didn’t want to go through the time and expense of clinical trials through the normal channels. So he set up a testing laboratory on a small and relatively unknown Pacific Island. Tifikijoo, I believe it was called.”

                                    “Uh huh. Actually I do vaguely remember something about that story.”

                                    “We got the story first,” Bossie said proudly, “but there was a media ban on publishing some of the information, unfortunately. The Doctor managed to get funding for his tests through an undercover organisation whose hidden agenda was to hide an ancient crystal skull while at the same time providing them with a facility where they could continue their own secret testing into spider genomes. I can’t tell you too much about that — it was all hush hush. So, you wouldn’t have read about that in the news, I bet,” she added with a smug smile.

                                    “Uh, no,” answered Ricardo, privately wondering if Bossy was the mad one. It was all starting to feel a bit surreal to him.

                                    “Did the doctor know about the skull stuff?”

                                    “No, the doctor was genuinely only interested in preserving beauty. Unfortunately, to this end, he killed one of his first guinea pigs. And tried to disguise his crime by mummifying the body. That’s when it all began to implode on him.”

                                    “What happened to him?”

                                    “He had some good lawyers and was found not competent to stand trial on the grounds of insanity. And the fact that all his clients had signed liability waivers helped a bit. He was sent to a high security psychiatric institution but managed to escape by reverting to his female identity—he was transsexual—and hiding in a laundry trolley.

                                    The doctor hated the way he was portrayed in the media and most of his venom was focused on our people. We had a guy working with us then, John Smith, and he covered the story with Connie. They got the brunt of the hate emails. John nearly had a nervous breakdown with the stress of it and moved to the country. Pity, he was a good writer.”

                                    “So what makes you think Santa Claus and the doctor are one and the same?”

                                    “Call it a very strong hunch. The Doctor was born in Iceland and had strong family ties there. And now I fear he has lured Connie and Sophie there in order to exact his evil revenge!”

                                    #4069

                                    “Where the devil is everyone?”

                                    Miss Bossy Pants looked around the empty office with a mixture of disappointment and confusion. She had been anticipating the surprised looks on her colleagues’ faces at her unannounced return —she had no illusions about her popularity and knew better than to expect a joyous reunion—but the room was disconcertingly empty.

                                    Hearing the door behind her, she spun around in relief. It was the new guy, Prout, carrying a brown paper bag and a take out coffee.

                                    “Hello!” he said, hoping he did not sound as awkward as he felt and wondering if he could back out the door again. He had only met Bossy a couple of times and found her bluntness disconcerting. Terrifying, even. There was no reply, so, taking a sip of his steaming coffee, he bravely persevered.

                                    “Welcome back. How are you feeling?”

                                    “Are you the only one here? Where is everyone?” snapped Bossy Pants.

                                    Ricardo took a deep breath and focused on a wilted pot plant on the window ledge.

                                    God, I hope I don’t start rambling.

                                    Connie and the temp, Sophie, went to Iceland … something about following a lead from Santa Claus and I’ve not heard from them since. And Hilda … I don’t know where Hilda went to be honest. She emailed me a few days ago wanting to know what to feed Orangutans.”

                                    Bossy had paled. She seemed to shudder slightly and put out a hand to steady herself on a nearby desk.

                                    “They eat mostly fruit,” he continued, “but other stuff too of course. Insects and flowers and stuff like that. Honey I think, if they can find it I guess, and bark. And leaves. Mostly fruit though.”

                                    That’s probably enough about the Orangutans. She is clearly not into it.

                                    “I got a bit held up actually; there is a young boy outside drawing maps. Quite young … youngish. I am not sure how old really but he was little.They are bloody good too—there is quite a crowd out there watching him draw.”

                                    “Iceland,” whispered Bossy, her face a deathly white colour.

                                    “Yeah, Iceland. Keflavik … Miss Bossy, are you sure you are well enough to be back? You don’t look so good. I mean, you look good … attractive of course … I don’t mean you look bad or anything but you do look sort of pale. Are you okay?”

                                    “Santa Claus.” Bossy sat down slowly.

                                    “Yeah … I know, a bit crazy, right? They seemed to think it was a really hot lead.”

                                    “Stupid idiots; the lead wasn’t from Santa Claus— I will bet my life that it was from that depraved scoundrel, Dr Bronkelhampton! I heard through the grapevine he had gone to Iceland with a new identity after the Island fiasco destroyed his reputation—we covered the story at the time and it was huge—and now he is clearly after revenge. Dear God, what have they got themselves into?”

                                    #4061
                                    AvatarJib
                                    Participant

                                      The hotel manager closed the red ledger in a loud flap, releasing a cloud of dark dust. Connie wondered if it was becasue of that volcano with the unspeakable name which had been fuming again since their arrival.

                                      “There is no vacancy”, he said.

                                      “But, we had a reservation”, said Sweet Sophie with her sweetest voice.

                                      “Maybe you had, but had is in the past. Now there is no vacancy.”

                                      Sweet Sophie took a deep breath in and tried to imagine the poppy ground of her hometown in Cornwall. It didn’t work. She didn’t feel relaxed nor did she feel bliss. She had no imagination for that kind of positive thinking, her mind only worked for conspiracies and time paradoxes.

                                      Connie had been looking at her watch repeatedly, and breathing heavily. They had been trying to get past this man for fifteen minutes. His face was as pleasant as a Gib’s monkey ass. Not as Maybe not as comfortable to sit on though. Sweet Sophie couldn’t think with all the noise Connie was doing. She knew there was a solution, and she didn’t want to go to another hotel, their instructions were specific, get a room at Diamond Suites hotel.

                                      “It’s no use”, said Connie. “Let’s find another hotel. I’ve been told there is one called Blue Lagoon part of a wonderful Spa.”

                                      “Shush”, said Sophie. “I’m thinking.”

                                      “That would be a first”, said Connie with a conniving smile.

                                      Sweet Sophie didn’t pay attention, she was used to rudeness. Instead she looked at the manager’s ugly face and suddenly had an idea that might have come from the past but could be applied in the present to get them a key.

                                      “Of course it was in the past”, she began, “We just forgot to take the key of our rooms.”

                                      “Very well”, said the manager, “What are your room numbers ?”

                                      Sweet Sophie smiled. There was some progress. What did the letter say again ?

                                      #4058
                                      TracyTracy
                                      Participant

                                        Connie noticed the old woman was frowning a lot this morning, and thought to herself, Not so sweet after all, the old trout. In a funny sort of way, it endeared her to Connie in a way that the endless cheery sweetness had not.

                                        “There’s no Elf School in the directory, but there is a Tw’Elf Centre, do you suppose this is the one?”

                                        “May as well check it out,” replied Sophie.

                                        “Representatives of the twelve continents of the earth?” Connie read, adding, “Sounds like some kind of mumbo jumbo fringe nutjob stuff if you ask me.”

                                        “What, less nutjob than an Elf School?” replied Sophie with a snigger. Connie laughed, beginning to warm towards the old dear. “I’d be interested to hear more about the anticipated merger with the Bermuda Triangle.”

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