Search Results for 'sue'

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  • #3308
    Jib
    Participant

      “Madame, a message from your mother. She’s waiting for you in her room.”

      Linda Pol, ensconced in a lumpy chair at the hotel bar, got confused at the mention of her mother. She had forgotten for a moment that it was the code for her meeting with Amber Graystone. The boy was wearing the hotel livery, the fur was a perfect fit on that young body. He must have been eighteen, at least, it was illegal in most states to employ underage personnel. He was presenting her a folded paper on a silver plate. That was so cliché, the Management should keep up to date with the latest unusual methods.

      She took the paper delicately. Thick, three hundred grams at least. Grainy yet satin-smooth. She thought the Management had money issues. She opened it and saw a single number inside. 88857.

      “There must be a mistake, mon ami. Certainly your hotel is big, but it doesn’t have so many stories.”
      The boy smirked.
      “Please follow me, I’ll show you the way. Oh, and keep the card with you.”

      Linda Pol had become cautious with age, but she had to admit the thrill of adventure and mystery was exciting. Especially presented on a silver plate by such a gorgeous minion. Something she hadn’t felt often lately.

      She smiled, stretched her left arm and fluttered her fingers. Those chairs were so deep that you could’t get up without looking like getting out of the armpit of a gorilla. The boy helped her out, a surprised look on his face when she appeared to spring on her feet like a young damsel. Those morning fitness sessions were paying off after all.

      “Show me everything”, she said with her best doe eyes.
      Come on, Pol. He could be your son, she thought. The youngest, added her mother’s disincarnate voice.

      #3293

      The whales’ dance on the dark bluish background lit by the tiniest reflection on floating seahorses and other sea creatures, made the scenery look like an eerie night skyline, full of moving stars.
      The added feeling of weightlessness was empowering, and soon, the three queens passed side glances, barely interested by the words of wisdom of the hologram, and catching each other’s mind, almost asked their question at the same time.

      Terry was the quickest this time, “Please, please, can you do a rendition of the Name Game with your disco ball lights, we’re all dying to do a dance! Please?”

      Interestingly, the Hologram didn’t show any hesitation as it started to sing, and the three queens were all glowing as they adjusted their wigs, fins and other appendages.

      The Name Game
      Terry!
      Terry, Terry bo Berry Bonana fanna fo Ferry
      Fee fy mo Merry, Terry!
      Sadie! Sadie, Sadie bo Badie Bonana fanna fo Fadie
      Fee fy mo Madie, Sadie!
      Come on everybody!
      I say now let’s play a game
      I betcha I can make a rhyme
      Out of anybody’s name …

      The lights were on, and the dresses glittered, Terry in the spur of the moment added kelp extensions to her wig to match the sardine tones of her suit, while Sadie’s only concession to fashion was a little glowing golden jellyfish that seemed to match her bob cut, and made for a funny pulsating hat.

      Adamus was on, and unstoppable

      The first letter of the name,
      I treat it like it wasn’t there
      But a B or an F, or an M will appear
      And then I say Bo add a B
      Then I say the name and Bonana fanna and a fo
      And then I say the name again
      With an F very plain and a fee fy and a mo
      And then I say the name again
      With an M this time
      And there isn’t any name that I can’t rhyme.

      A chorus of dolphins tried to join, having Consuela burst hysterically into peals of unstoppable laughter.

      Consuela!
      Consuela, Consuela bo Bonsuela Bonana fanna fo Fonsuela
      Fee fy mo Monsuela, Consuela!
      But if the first two letters are ever the same,
      I drop them both and say the name
      Like Bob, Bob drop the Bs Bo ob
      For Fred, Fred drop the Fs Fo red
      For Mary, Mary drop the Ms Mo ary
      That’s the only rule that is contrary.

      Maurana was shaking her head in seducing moves, pretending not to die of envy of the others, and expecting her turn.
      And the music went on…

      Okay? Now say Bo: Bo
      Now Belen without a B: Elen
      Then Bonana fanna fo: bonana fanna fo
      Then you say the name again with an F very plain: Felen
      Then a fee fy and a mo: fee fy mo !
      Then you say the name again with an M this time: Melen
      And there isn’t any name that you can’t rhyme
      Maurana! Maurana, Maurana bo Baurana Bonana fanna fo Faurana
      Fee fy mo Aurana, Maurana!

      And they continued with all sorts of names for quite a while, even some of the whales’ and dolphins’ who were obviously enjoying the interlude.

      :fleuron:

      “Did you get all that on video?” Maurana asked Sadie.
      “Of course I did, the ezapper got it all. Linda Paul and the network won’t believe their eyes, it’s some heavy material! Even better than gold bars!” Sadie could barely believe what had just happened.

      The whales seemed to have been so thrilled that after a moment of silence, a smaller one broke off the cycle, went to the huge crystal and took a heart shaped shard of it to offer them.

      “I guess that’s their way of burning a DVD, what do you think?” Consuela was blissfully hopeless with technology, but could also have some moments of brilliance.

      “We should go now” Sadie said looking up from the ezapper “it looks like some unidentified giant blue crab is coming at us, and we better let the whales handle it.”

      “Are we going through that awful sewer again?” Maurana was starting to get green at the idea.

      “I don’t think so, I had Sanso pick us up at the underwater cave thanks to Consuela surprise reconnaissance mission. He just arrived and he just texted me his location. It’s not far from here. He seems to have managed to herd a few octopi to carry us across. Always surprisingly resourceful this one, I might start to like him…”
      Snapping from her emotions, she continued
      “Time to say your adieus to 2222 ladies. Tonight, everyone’s a winner. We’re going to be famous.”

      #3285

      Secretly, Sadie had a beautifully laid out plan in her head, like a vacation plan with stop-overs at luxury hotels, and activities to entertain the children.
      That made her slightly miffed about the succession of sidetrack adventures and the lack of focus of her protégés.

      The plan was simple enough, they had to take the magical crystal from under the whale’s noses, and get back to the closest Time sewer, where they could funnel up (her fancy verb for “complete”) the special reboot edition of the Time Draggler’s show.

      Surprisingly, Linda Paul’s interest and instructions seemed to have weakened and her usually generous and unwarranted input have been inordinately limited. Maybe the summer heat wave had mollified her, or her projects had shifted since the pilot of the Time Draggler’s show had failed to grab the network’s attention and fulfil its promises.
      She couldn’t say. But something in what the techromancer told her had stuck, and she couldn’t quite shake it out. “A train will come for you, and you will have to catch it, this Time is your train.”
      The hell if she knew what Time that was anyway.
      But one thing was sure, this one-time gig was growing on her, and she didn’t want to get back to dog food tasting. So one way or another, she’d have to make it work, and move the drag’s lazy butts to make a heck of an entertaining show.

      “Look! I vink vey’re over vere!” Maurana was getting the gist of the telepathic conversation.

      It was lucky the interior of the cave was lit, as outside the night had fallen like a cold black carpet on a pack of dust bunnies, dropping the water’s temperature. Luckily, the suits seemed to have their own warming as well as glowing mechanism.

      Terry was over Consuela, who seemed unconscious and in a REM sleep.
      “Hey! Consuela learnt your eye rolling technique!” Maurana gleefully tuned towards Sadie.
      “Don’t be silly, I think he’s in shock, pass me that electric eel, to wake that bitch up.” Terry was always for a bit of drama. It seemed to do the trick.

      “Woah, you can’t believe the stuff I’ve seen…” Consuela’s pupils were dilated so much it was hard to see the whites of her eyes.

      “Classic case of red algae intoxication, no need to consult the ezapper for that” Sadie said. “It is known that dolphins use it as a shamanic tool to astral. The concentration in these waters is surprinsingly high. Nothing than some fresh water can’t cure.” Too much time under water, she started to babble like a fish.

      The Time window wouldn’t stay indefinitely open. She needed to get them move, and take back her authority. With children like them, one thing that worked was to shake some shiny stuff in front of them and let them follow it.
      “Anyone interested in a Whale Queen’s Race?”

      #3284
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Pooh
        – An Original Song
        by Consuela
        I get on with life as a writer,
        I’m a loose kinda person.
        I like basketball on Sundays,
        I like diving in the week.
        I like to contemplate scooter.
        But when I start to daydream,
        My mind turns straight to exercise mat.

        Boom boom shake da boom-boom-boom!

        Do I love exercise mat more than scooter?
        Do I love exercise mat more than scooter?
        I like to use words like ‘pooh,’
        I like to use words like ‘tart.’
        I like to use words about scooter.
        But when I stop my talking,
        My mind turns straight to exercise mat.

        Boom boom shake da boom-boom-boom!

        Do I love exercise mat more than scooter?
        Do I love exercise mat more than scooter?

        I like to hang out with Godfrey,
        I like to kick back with Flove,
        But when left alone,
        My mind turns straight to exercise mat.

        Boom boom shake da boom-boom-boom!

        Do I love exercise mat more than scooter?
        Do I love exercise mat more than scooter?

        I’m not too fond of italian bank,
        I really hate germans,
        But I just think back to exercise mat,
        And I’m happy once again

        Boom boom shake da boom-boom-boom!

        #3279
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Consuela’s eyes were as round and big as life savers as she tried to absorb everything she was seeing in the underwater cave. Every tile, every key, every shell contained layer upon layer of images and information like great piles of slippery transparent slides. Multiple luminous trails floated from each layered image, intertwining with other layers. Her three dimensional land vision struggled to hold on to something familiar, something to balance, and failed. Consuela lost all sense of direction and perspective in the cacophony of data, knew not which way was up, or down, or sideways or any of the other directions presenting themselves. She started to tumble and roll, gasping and flailing and snatching at the water but there was nothing to hold on to.

          #3278
          Jib
          Participant

            Terry had always been sort of a follower type of person. The trouble was when her friends were going in two different directions, or like now in one direction and one stay-still. Which one should she follow ? Consuela was a small dot of plancton in the immensity of the ocean, and yet she dared launch herself in the unknown. The others were sticking together, kinda. Sadie was desperately trying to send messages or to receive instructions, it wasn’t very clear, and Maurana was pouting since Consuela was gone.

            That’s not a real profession, Amar, she got startled when she heard her dad’s voice as if he was just behind. She turned with a jerk of her right hip, but no sign of him.

            That was as if she’d been stung by a bee. She’s been waiting all her life, now she wanted to move. Without warning to her friends, she began to follow the trail of bubbles left by Consuela. The others could follow if they wanted, but she wouldn’t left her friend alone in the dark water.

            #3276

            “Oh, fuck it” Maurana said when she saw Consuela darting ahead. “The bitch is going to tire and notice we’re all here waiting for the barmy robot to pick us up… I guess… eventually?”

            But Consuela was paying no attention, and continued until it would take too much effort to swim and catch her. Maurana felt a moment of panic. What about the others? Terry seemed still here, doing rounds and laps in her sardine colours, while Sadie seemed to catch her underwater breath. Maybe they should all wait for Sadie’s instructions, she always knew what to do.
            “Let’s just hope that darn e-zapper of hers is waterproof” she bubbled in giggles.

            #3275
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Pseu deciphered laughter and a rather strange phrase in the burbling language, wondering if she had translated “get your mermaid shoehorns here” correctly. She decided to remove the protocol blindfold for a moment, just to be sure.
              It was a strange sight that met her eyes, and she paused for a moment to get her bearings.
              Consuela appeared to be in an underwater cave, full of gurgling bubbling creatures the likes of which she had never encountered before. The cave was bright with thousands of crystals, filled with the sweet sounds of music from a multitude of conch shells, chandeliers dripped with hundreds of magical looking keys, and the furnishings were tiled with a million unusual tiles forming a mosaic of endless connecting links.

              #3274
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                This is a different kettle of fish altogether from my last diving experience, Consuela was thinking. Why, this is such fun, I can not resist exploring further. Bugger those elusive tentacles, I simply must see what’s around the next bend in this watery tunnel.
                Right or left? she wondered when a side tunnel branched off. She had a vague idea that turning left was perilous, so she turned right, and shortly came to a junction of eight cave tunnels leading up, down and sideways. One of the tunnels had a sign over the entrance crafted from purple limpets, saying “Get Your Mermaid Shoehorns Here”. Another tunnel entrance had a sign made of artificially manipulated pink coral saying “Willy Wave’s Wigs ~ new tentacle and seaweed designs” which was tempting, but it was the “Bloater’s Floater Bar” that seemed the most attractive choice of the moment. Consuela was curious to meet the inhabitants of this unexpected world, and the enticement of a “free cork floating bums with your first plankton smoothie” was hard to resist.

                #3273

                Consuela was always the more independent and adventurous. She didn’t realise at first that there was something not quite right about the perilous situation.

                Breathing under water was strange, and it felt like a not quite adjusted piece of garment (an ill-motherfucker-fitted thong Maurana would have said), as though her lungs were filled with a light yet mucous fluid.
                They’d all struggled and kicked the water in violent spams in the beginning, thinking they were about to die when the wetsuit automatic mucusbags went off, as a security measure for drowning, she’d guessed.
                But then, the magic happened and they realised they could breathe like fishes.
                Then the shark panic attack happened, which left them swimming for their lives with their prosthetic fins (and more or less graceful movements). But the shark didn’t seem interested after all, or it was driven away by a more juicy prospect, because they soon found themselves following a strange string of parallel lighted dots that dived deeper under water like an oddly placed seacraft runway. At least, that was what she thought at first, until she arrived at the cave’s entrance and realized nobody was actually following her.

                The others didn’t follow… She only had to hope that they would catch her later with a taxi or something…
                The thought of being able to discover the underwater cave trumped all sense of caution, and the lure of the prized crystal of exotic properties was enough to send her further down, despite the feeling of flashing tentacles creeping around in her peripheral vision, then gone in an instant the moment she turned the head around…

                #3252

                It started raining lightly on the hut and the queens found themselves woken up from what had seemed a very long dream conversation.
                “What just happened? What did he tell you?” Consuela asked.
                “All in good time” Sadie answered still processing the information.
                “Let’s go back to the beach, we will be late for the wetsuits fitting.”

                The ezapper’s GPS started to send new instructions. “In 10 meters turn left…”
                Then it added ominously “… at your peril”.

                #3232
                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  Queens Team and 2121 originated time-travellers

                  Reginald / Maurana Banana
                  Cedric / Consuela Winnie
                  Amar / Terry Bubble
                  Sadie Merrie
                  Linda Paul

                  Supporting team

                  Pseu, Maria del Mar, Janice (from the City, around 2257)
                  Sanso (from other dimension, multi-dimensional travel contractor)
                  Frindle, Trumble, Jingle (fuck knows who they are)
                  the Hawai’i techromancer

                  Management team (around 2222 and later)

                  Irina, mermaid Russian spy and parrot whisperer

                  Jonbert, the orchestrator of the time-travelling arcs, wanting to retrieve key information from St Germain which were collected in 1757. En route back to 2222 to intercept the whales’ crystal with help from Linda Paul’s team, and his luxury submarine

                  1757 King’s Versailles

                  The Queen
                  Madame de Pompadour
                  her maid Nicole du Hausset, coming from a line of time-smugglers
                  Mr Aliette the wigmaker and finger reader
                  Count de St Germain
                  Giacomo Casanova (pseudonyms Monsieur de St Galle / Jacques de Seingalt)
                  Father Balbi, Casanova’s travelling companion
                  Theater du Soleil actors (Lison Tailleur, Jean Pastisse, Geoffroy du Limon, Francette Fine)
                  Robert-Francois Damiens, the assassim
                  Jean-Pierre Duroy, the Grand Intendant, his wife the Pastry Chef Annie
                  Cook and Helper
                  ghost of Marguerite Isabeau

                  The 1757 originated time-travellers

                  Mirabelle the oldest and bossiest, Adeline the youngest (thief of the first ferret) and Fanetta, the French maids
                  Igor Popinkin, Boris and Ivan the Russian con-artists and saboteurs hidden with the Russian Ballet troupe visiting Versailles
                  Huhu the parrot
                  The Whale ghost, the ghost ship (died/sunk around 1600s) and time-travelling fin whales of 2020s
                  Belen, the whale
                  Santa Rosa, the galleon
                  the ghost obese gardener-captain Peter Pugh Petit Pois, from Peasland

                  The Spanish farm and fat mermaid dolphins

                  Lisa, Jack
                  Pierre and Etienne
                  The Italian cruise ship
                  pink Amazonian dolphins

                  #3208

                  While she was adjusting her bikini over her fake boobs, Maurana Banana felt a sudden pang of panic. Nothing that could be lipsynched away with bursting into some Name Game song

                  Everything was here, yet she didn’t feel fleshed out enough. She wasn’t talking about gaining some padding, she had plenty enough of that, but more about depth and character. At times, she even felt highly suggestible.

                  The sound of the waves crashing down the rugged black volcanic stones under the white sand was soothing. The others’ shrills of delight could be heard miles away, they were hoping for a dolphins’ pod sighting and had even abandoned the Goochi platform shoes to be more comfortable.

                  Sadie was very quiet, and at times felt almost like she was about to say hello and run out of conversation. However, she told something that had struck the Reggie inside the Maurana’s persona. That she should act on her highest excitement, and that there was no more to life than that.
                  Easy enough when in drags, but when out of the wigs, make-up and fake eyelashes and acrylic nails, it was like being an out-of-water dolphin. Nothing but a big fat stranded sardine without appeal, just good for an extra pouring of olive oil.

                  Before being a drag queen, Reginald worked a few jobs since a young age, mostly deliveries. The last one he got was more stable, a job as a security guy. He’d almost blundered at the interview, he laughed at it now, when he’d forgotten to remove the Gothic styled nails from the night. Instead of hiding them and look stupid, he had the good sense to invent those crazy stories like the ones he would tell his teacher when he forgot some homework deadline.
                  Security was better than delivery, there was no denying. Being in a position were people were not quite paying attention to you, but still eyeing you from the corner, as if you could do something vicious or bully them out of the building. She liked that.
                  There was always excitement as there were plenty of crazy people each day to be escorted out, so following excitement wasn’t difficult. Following yours was more of a catch.

                  She’d joined the drag contest to win her own highest excitement. She already got points for being the first pick-up of the jury before Consuela and Terry, and also for being the one to snatch the key.

                  She put the last touch of green on her eyelids with a hand flourish. She was perfect. For now, that was something to get excited about.

                  #3202

                  The three maids waited in the balloon for most of the night, in increasing agitation. Mirabelle’s face was like thunder, imagining Igor ravishing the Breton wenches as they slept in their beds. As is often the case during a long tense wait in the black of night, the maids thoughts turned increasingly murderous, worry transposing to anger and thoughts of vengeance.
                  The truth was that the Russians were having a great deal of difficulty finding any food. The peasants were starving and there was nothing to steal. Dreading returning to the balloon empty handed, they continued the fruitless search.
                  Meanwhile Pseu was leisurely perusing ceramic tiles in the Locmaria quarter, unaware of the difficulties of the Russians.
                  Eventually, the three men returned to the balloon, with nothing to show for their nights escapades. Mirabelle snorted derisively, resisting the urge to slap Igor.
                  “It’s getting light” said Boris, “We really must leave now, food or no food. Let’s go!”
                  The balloon rose just as the sun was casting a pinkish glow and the river mists were rising in ghostly wisps.

                  ~~~

                  Exhausted from lack of sleep, the occupants slept, taking turns to stay awake. Fanella was on the first watch, shivering and grumpy with hunger. Surreptitiously, she gobbled down a few foul tasting handfuls of lard. When it was Adeline’s turn to keep watch, she had a similar idea, and likewise swallowed some greasy globs of lard, thinking, as Fanella had done, that a few handfuls would not be missed. When the others took their turns on the watch, they also had similar ideas, erroneously assuming that nobody else had thought to do the same. By lunchtime, when they’d all had sufficient sleep, there was not a great deal of lard left. A dramatic and judgemental argument ensued with everyone accusing each other of monumental stupidity, but as Boris wisely pointed out, they were all equally to blame.
                  “But we’re over the sea now, and we’re losing height!”
                  Uh oh, said Pseu to herself. I can increase the wind speed to hurricane force, but that might be a bit too risky. Or I can allow the wind to resume it’s prevailing westerly course, but that wouldn’t help, they’d end up back where they came from and that would be catastrophic.
                  “Perhaps I can help” whispered Belen telepathically. “If you think you can land the balloon on my decks.”
                  It would be a tricky landing, but there was no other option. Quickly Pseu worked out the likely coordinates of the ultimate descent and beamed them to Belen.
                  “The homing parrot will help” added Belen. “Follow the bird and adjust the wind direction accordingly.”

                  #3200

                  Irina buzzed for her robot, Mr R. All the elite class had robots. Most nowadays were barely distinguishable from humans. However, Irina fancied herself to be someone who did things a bit differently. The design of Mr R was fashioned on the robots from classic twentieth century literature: his “head” a glass bubble sensor unit with moving antennae, his trunk-section a rotating cylinder with controls on the front, extending bellow arms that ended with mechanical claws and bellow legs with tread tractor units. He was able to move with deceptive speed and agility. Personality-wise Mr R was programmed to be the epitome of deference and tact.

                  “Did you have a pleasant time with Mr Sanso?” inquired Mr R politely. “I believe you have a spot of cucumber on your face. Allow me to remove that for you.” He did this with a deftness belying his dangerous looking extremities. “And how else can I serve you this morning?”

                  “Thank you, Mr R. Mr Sanso proved to be inscrutable as always. Please provide scanning assistance. Target 2121 Time travel mission 2222.”

                  “Delighted to oblige, Ma’am!”

                  Irina scanned the brains of the time travellers. The 3 drag queens were hypnotically sensitive and should be easy enough to manipulate. The girl, Sadie, was more problematic. Her motivation was happiness and her purity of intention meant that she would be difficult to manipulate successfully. Sanso, she knew already, was a law unto himself.

                  Irina felt a stab of fear as she thought of the 22nd of February 2222. (Fear was an unusual emotion for Irina—in fact all strong emotion was unusual—and it took her a moment to identify it.) All the 2’s in alignment. If the time travellers were successful in retrieving the crystal and decoding the information before that date, what would that fateful morning look like? Would Irina herself even exist? Doubtful.

                  Life was pretty good for Irina. In 2222 the Elite were free to pursue their goals—without the confines of the ethical and economic considerations of the old days. They were not confined to human bodies either; they could be robotic, animal or some other more exotic design or mythological creature. It really just depended on how the mood took them. Irina, with the expert assistance of Mr R, was planning in meticulous detail a mermaid-like body, complete with gills and a tail, so that she could travel to an underwater location for her next vacation.

                  It wasn’t like that for everybody though. And this “progress” had not come about without a huge impact on the environment. There were large pockets of people scattered throughout the world who had eschewed the new technology, instead choosing the way of Love.

                  “Looooooooove!” Irina rolled her eyes and Mr R chuckled politely on cue.

                  If Irina had her way they would dispose of the time travellers the moment they arrived. Or better yet, send a team back to 2121 and dispose of them there. Management had forbidden this route, not for any ethical reasons—there were few moral guidelines nowadays—but out of caution. The vote had been close. Apparently there were some documents from the early channellers foretelling disastrous consequences if the time travellers were unable to return to their century. Management had decreed instead that the time travellers must be diverted from their goal.

                  The crystal itself was closely guarded by the whales until the so called Chosen Ones arrived with the key.

                  #3177

                  “And how are we going to lip-synch?” Terry said in horror, realizing the XVIIIth century sound system left too much to be desired. No glittering disco ball, no laser effects, gosh it would be like being naked on stage…

                  “Well, glad you asked”, Sadie said looking at her ezapper. “You see, this little device can do wonders, such as projecting very convincing holograms to create the most amazing scenes with little props needed, but I’m afraid, it needs a little boost in our case.”

                  “It needs juice now?” Maurana wondered.
                  “No, that much is OK, thanks to some fish extract, its battery is now fueled back on for days. All it needs now is an amplifier. That was one of the use of the ferret key, you see.”

                  “So no key, no extravaganza?” Consuela said with tears in her eyes.

                  “If you must spell it out that way, yes… But of couse, you can still complete the show without any special effects.” she added mischievously

                  All three of the queens recoiled in horror at the heretic thought of them performing without any of those bare necessities. The thought of them singing acapella was enough to give them nightmares for days.

                  #3174
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    “Frindle, is Geoffroy alright?” asked Trumble. “He seems to be muttering that peculiar gibberish again, is he having another one of his turns?”
                    “It’s his control issues again, Trumble, he’ll get over it. I think he’s already seeing the green light. He’s having trouble seeing each moment as discrete, with it’s own back story, each story entry as a picnic basket, complete with it’s own history and associations. Each picnic basket is a piece of the puzzle, but they may not fit immediately together, and I think that’s what troubles him.”
                    “As usual, you’ve hit the nail on the head, Frindle. Funny how it all seems like deja vu, doesn’t it?”
                    “Trusting that the invisible connecting links are seamlessly interwoven even if they are not apparent is not for the faint hearted” added Jingle, “It would behoove us to remember that we all struggle at times to fit the pieces together. Which is why this is all such a beneficial exercise.”
                    “True enough, Jingle” replied Trumble. “Many’s the time I’ve had a mad scramble to find a connecting link and make it fit.”
                    “And many’s the time you’ve fucked up but by not paying attention, Trumble” Frindle pointed out.
                    “Ah, but that’s because I’ve been paying attention to another aspect instead, you rude tart” retorted Trumble.

                    #3169
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      As Sadie pulled open the seam of the crocheted ferret a dreadful smell wafted out.
                      “I’m not putting my hand inside there, key or no key” said Terry. “Smells like dead fish how revolting!”
                      “That’s because is IS dead fish, look!” exclaimed Consuela.
                      “Thanks for all the fish” muttered Sadie crossly. “The key must be in the other ferret. Someone must have tampered with the tags. It would appear that we’ve been hoodwinked and this is the decoy meant for the Russians.”
                      “Does that mean we can tie these actors up and gag them, then?” asked Terry hopefully.
                      “Yes alright” replied Sadie, distracted. “We may need some extra time after all.”

                      #3164

                      “Well, that was almost too easy…”
                      Despite his weight and the various layers of clothes, Reginald who had struggled to get back into Maurana Banana’s tight costume was the first to realize what had just happened, and had rushed to the statue to snatch the prized crocheted ferret, beating Consuela and Terry by a short hand.
                      Sadie looked with a slight hint of disapproval at his XVIIIth century apparent undergarments, but was glad that this was resolved so efficiently.

                      “The prize is inside the ferret, ladies.”
                      “Off with your grabby hands, you tart!” shouted Maurana batting her eyelashes ferociously at Terry Bubble who wanted a closer look at the intriguing tear in the fabric.
                      “Oh leave it there, you silly bitch, now you can gloat with your tarty breeches, you haven’t get half your costume ready” Consuela was starting to enjoy the argle-bargle.

                      “And what should we do now? Wasn’t there supposed to be another one?” Maurana turned to Sadie.
                      “We’re in luck. Obviously there always has been a plan B, dear. The second one was a decoy for the Russian team, I just got it confirmed from the tagging chip of the toy.”

                      Everyone was hanged to her words, which was a satisfying moment, not so much for the riveted attentions on her loving person but for the temporary silence. Sadie milked it for a few more seconds before adding.

                      “Let’s open it up carefully, there is a key inside we need. Then, you only need to do one thing before we go home. Get on that scene at the Opera, rock the audience, and we’ll get down the Time Sewer off to our time and your prize.”

                      She pause before adding, looking down at Maurana’s breeches. “There is obviously some prep’ work left to do.”

                      #3152
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        “I heard that” replied Pseu telepathically. “And you’re right, of course I’m connected to the Russians. So are you, for that matter, didn’t you know? Igor Popinkin’s little sister Faina ring any bells? The connection to the Russians is not what you think!”
                        Sadie frowned in puzzlement. The fact was that the name Faina did ring a few bells, but it was vague, almost as if she had dreamed about her.
                        “The thing is” continued Psue, “Not to take sides. There are connecting links everywhere. The Russians may be “on the other side” in one particular scenario, but behind the scenes, it’s another story.”

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