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  • #2413

    Fwick’s bladder was boiling, and pressing him for a release. That was that little minute of inattention that cost him the equally little spider, and nearly his life.

    While he was blaming and swearing at the bitter butter, he had not noticed that the amount of butter he’d prepared wouldn’t nearly have been enough to bread the spider, since the spider had already ingested the mighty yeast —as much by an insane curiosity as by bouts of bloody hunger— and as it happens, the yeast was starting to take effect.

    As the weather was still a tad on the cold side in Peasland, there was a sane amount of logs piled up against the stove, which was roaring in delight well-fed as it was. It was giving the little spider ideas, as well as a newfound strength and breadth (and some beard too, but it didn’t really matter… yet, at least).

    So while Fwick was moaning of delight at emptying said bladder into the loo, a bloody blunder was looming more than he could see.

    The little spider started to outgrow the little matchbox, which ceded without much resistance, nor any noise.
    The middle-sized spider then started to outgrow the table, which in turn ceded in a mild crack.
    Finally, the big-sized spider now dying for a breakfast the size of a cow jumped by the window which jarred at the impact and finally, as all objects learn in good time when dealing with the spider, ceded to release the hungry bearded nine-eyed now-not-so-little deadly spider with a squeaking mwahahing voice.

    That was the voice of the spider by the way, not that of the window, which didn’t have a voice to start with, even in Peasland.

    #2384

    The pop-corn rain usually laid a crunchy crusty yellow blanket on the lands of Peasland, a mild contrast with the pea-green tint of the lands in the season of Spea’ing.
    In late Summer, New Peasland’s weather used to be the season of subs-tractors, big-wheeled vehicles which harvested the blown up corn of the fields, one of the rare alternatives to pea soup and marmite. Sadly, with all the blubbits around, hardly a few popcorns were left for the noble people of Peasland to eat, spread in muddied pools tainted of blubbits poohs.

    “This has to cease!” Pee Stoll muttered after another raucous gurgling of his belly. The great portal of Nibabuz was a few days walk, and they would need all their strength to get there. Blessed was his dear Penelope, who’s been gleaning the few edible popcorn from the last shower and was feeding their heads on the mantelpiece.

    #2786
    EricEric
    Keymaster

      (#678) goodness Get out of lazy fuck
      The storm off his boots eyes with sleep.
      how cope with Years, when joined the Weather
      Rescue imagined easy life, spells inactivity

      poke his mates, and an occasional exciting incident.
      Little did realize that he was chronically short.

      ohfofucksakBeck!
      Where did that come from?
      Tina hysterically fun, muttTina.

      It is just fun, none of it matters.

      It would give Al something to do about,

      #2304

      The summer Holidays were nearly over, or the Hollow Days, as they were known to some. The last days of summer had been a bit hollow for Ann at any rate, rattling around inside her own head, not really knowing whether it was full or empty. Ann had spent most of the summer sleeping, and with virtually no dream recall, it seemed as if half of the summer was missing. Probably just as well, what with it being such an odd summer. She wondered if she would simply sleep through the shift, like Ned Young slept through the mutiny. Didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

      “Normally” the Worserversity students started rolling back towards Poubelleville round about now, but the word “normally” was becoming obsolete. What was normal, what could be expected? Ann didn’t know. She packed her coloured pencils, her detachable hand and her wooden men, and fished out her homework assigments for the holidays that she had only just remembered.

      Alliteration. Bugger bollocks and blast, blimey but what a bother, too bloody hot and bored.

      That’s a bit bloody depressing, she muttered to herself, try another letter.

      Sweltering summer of sweat and sand, sleeping and sleeping, sublime surruptitious snooze, sail away in the sunset swell, sunrise surrender, ships ahoy!

      Fan the flames, far sighted fellows! There’s a flash in the funnel for fast falling fishermen. Far flung, fun fueled, oh fast fleeting fantasies, follow the folks with the flags! Flounder not, fresh fishies, for fun feels fantastic!

      Ah, wallow in wisps of wordless wonderings, weather the winds of wandering whispers, while weighty wells of wishes work winsome wonders, woven with worn wool and worrisome white weathered windows. Whether we will, whether we won’t, who will win, what will work, will we watch it water the weeds….

      #2269
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        “Any idea what this is all about?” Beattie asked, to nobody in particular. A crowd was gathering at the crossroad.

        The crossroad reminded Bea of a movie she’d watched some years previously, called, coincidentally enough, Crossroads. A symbolic sort of place, although real enough, a junction seemingly in the middle of nowhere. There was a large oak tree looming above the intersection, but nothing else could be seen in any direction but endless expanses of fields. There was a wooden signpost, the old fashioned kind, with two slats of wood pinned crosswise in the middle to a leaning post, but the place names had long since weathered away.

        It was an odd sort of place and not much traffic passed by. In fact, the only traffic to pass by the crossroad stopped and disengorged itself of passengers..

        “Is that a word, Bea?” asked Leonora. “Disengorged?”

        “Don’t butt in to the narrative part Leo, or the story won’t make any sense.” hisssed Beattie, “Wait until you’re supposed to speak as one of the characters.”

        “Well alright, but I don’t suppose it will have much effect on the making sense aspect, either way. Do continue.”

        To say it was a motley crew gathering would be an understatement.

        “You got that right,” Leonora said, sotto voce, surupticiously scanning the assortment of individuals alighting from the rather nautical looking yellow cab. Bea glared at Leo. “I suppose I’ll have to include your interrupions as a part of the story now.”

        “Good thinking, Batman!”

        “Oh for Pete’s sake, Leo, don’t go mad with endless pointless remarks then, ok? Or I will delete you altogether, and that will be the end of it.”

        “You can’t delete me. I exist as a character, therefore I am.”

        “You might have a nasty accident though and slide off the page,” Bea replied warningly.

        “Why don’t you just get on with it, Bea? Might shut me up, you never know…”. Leo smirked and put her ridiculously large sunglasses on, despite the swirling fog..

        “Oh I thought it was sunny” said Leonora, taking her sunglasses back off again. “You hadn’t mentioned weather.” She put her sunglasses back on again anyway, the better to secretly examine the others assembled at the crossroads.

        “Why don’t you go and introduce yourself to them and see if anyone knows why we’re here, Leo, while I get on with the story.”

        “Who will write what they say, though?”

        “I’ll add it later, just bugger off and see if anyone knows who sent us that mysterious invitation.”

        “Right Ho, sport, I’m on the bobbins and lace case” replied Leo. Bea shuddered a bit at the mixture of identities bleeding through Leonora’s persona. “Och aye the noo!”

        Dear god, thought Beattie, I wish I’d never started this.

        :yahoo_straight_face:

        #2582

        In reply to: Strings of Nines

        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Yoland decided to have another go at the Pink Radio Exercise with a few online freinds.

          (I’m procrastinating over turning this damn radio on…) she typed.

          ~ special effects from Franz E ~
          (that’s what I just heard and we didn’t say START yet)

          (Later)

          (I’m procrastinating over turning this damn radio on…)

          ~ you see you weren’t listening. I said special effects from Franz E and you stopped listening immediately. ~ (well I was writing it down) ~
          ~ (mans voice) …..weather, and you don’t know whether or not to listen, do you… I didnt think so, off you go ~ (then a football match can you beleive it, can’t get off the football station) ~ and this is the whether station again, whether or not we want to listen ~ (mind wanders) ~ and the whether is changable ~ (mans voice sounds amused)

          (Its channel 46 FWIW, I just asked him. And his name is either Roy or Gilroy. Gilroy.)

          ~ Gilroy Spadhammer ~ (now he’s laughing)

          (ok lets see if I can move off the whether and football channels…..)

          ~ the whether is stabilizing ~ GOAL! ~ song: we’re all going on a summer holiday ~ Wakefield Pressman (solemn male voice)~

          Yoland was sidetracked then by Teleport Moll’s sudden appearance, and forgot all about Wakefield Pressman.

          #2549

          In reply to: Strings of Nines

          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Zhaana was 18 years old and outwardly beautiful as well as inwardly lovely. Nine years had passed since she’d last seen Sanso on that extraordinary excursion into The Elsepace Arrangement, or so it would appear. That is to say, Zhaana had no recollection of what might have occured during those nine years, and the general accepted medical opinion was that Zhaana had suffered amnesia. She was found wandering the streets of Amsterdam in the spring of 2009, wearing about her outwardly beautiful body a few outgrown shreds of dusty indigo fabric. Fortunately the weather was mild, and when passersby did a double take, it was due to her looks and not her unsuitable garments.

            When Taatje van Snoot saw the girl wandering aimlessly along the canal her left ear popped, indicating that she should pay attention. Taatje had been reading Lisp, the popular new magazine for new energy people with word issues, while sitting on a bench beneath the burgeoning green foliage, enjoying the warm spring sunshine. As the strange girl with the bemused and curious expression wandered past, Taatje rolled Lisp up and shoved it in her capacious carpet bag, and followed.

            :detective:

            #2495

            In reply to: Strings of Nines

            TracyTracy
            Participant

              ‘“It may have been the sudden change of environment, but Leörmn had great difficulty at staying focused.”

              Aspidistra Merryweather, suddenly disconcertingly finding herself in a completely different place, with a new name and an unfamiliar body, was marginally relieved to discover that the wonderful synchronicity of the random quote selector hadn’t changed.’

              Cordella wondered how many times, and with how many additions, this perfectly timed random quote would thread its way through the volumes. She had been trying to balance her universal celebration lettuce somewhat unsuccessfully, wishing she’d paid more attention to the lecture, when she spotted the orbs.

              #2181

              Aspidistra’s parents had thought long and hard about what to call her. In fact, until she was 5 years old they referred to her simply as “the sprog”. One day Mrs Merryweather, a keen gardner, was admiring her Aspidistra elatior plant which seemed to grow so abundantly despite the most adverse conditions. She mentioned this to Mr Merryweather in passing.

              Just like our Sprog, he chuckled, look at her. She is twice the size of the other kids her age, and we don’t hardly have to feed her at all.

              It was years later that her ability to glow in the dark was discovered.

              #2180

              “It may have been the sudden change of environment, but Leörmn had great difficulty at staying focused.”

              Aspidistra Merryweather, suddenly disconcertingly finding herself in a completely different place, with a new name and an unfamiliar body, was marginally relieved to discover that the wonderful synchronicity of the random quote selector hadn’t changed.

              “Thank heaven for small mercies” she muttered to herself, fully aware that mercies and heaven were self made, as were sudden changes of environment. “I’m not called Aspidistra for nothing, after all. I have in built capablities for growing well in the dark”

              #1231
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                “Uh Oh Godfrey, now we’re in trouble, there’s a typhoon in the random daily quote! We really must improve the weather before all hell breaks loose!”

                But Godfrey’s mind was on other matters and he wasn’t paying attention to Elizabeth.

                GODFREY!!” she shouted “This is serious! Pay attention, do!”

                “I really must say, Liz,” Godfrey shuffled the papers he was reading into a neat pile, “That when it’s too elaborate, it’s too weirdo, and when it’s pure delirium, it’s increasingly rubbish.”

                “Be that as it may, Godfrey, but I must insist that you pay attention to more pressing matters. We have an Ice Age, a Typhoon, and the 1111th entry looming over our heads and all you can do is shuffle papers around making nonsensical remarks.”

                “Oh pass the poonuts and stop worrying, Liz. And put another log on the fire.”

                #1018

                :bunny_head: :y_orly: :cat_happy: :goat:
                :yahoo_party:

                888 th comment
                :weather-clear: :heart: 8/8/8 @ 8:08 on the international date line :heart: :weather-clear: :world:

                #960

                New Venice, July, 1 st 2035

                The night was hot in New Venice at this time of the year. The weather patterns had been steadily shifting for many years, and the climate was now sub-tropical in the inundated Big Apple, as more and more people resented the usual coldness of winters, and had subjectively agreed upon a heightening of the temperatures of a few degrees.

                Though accustomed to tell his body to relax, and vibrate at a lower frequency to counteract the sticky and displeasing effects of the heat, Al was finding sleep hard to find. Usually, he would attribute those moments of twitching slumberness to mass accessing of subjective information and bringing them to the objective. With the eclipse that would occur in the next weeks, those were still time of great cosmic synchronistic congruence.

                Needless to say, he and Tina had been somewhat stirred by Becky’s sudden casualness, and relative abandon not only of the Reality Play but also of her three lovely first born to her friends.
                People of that mysterious facility that Becky had briefly spoken so highly of had been doing a fantastic job, considering the very early birth, but still, Al had soon noticed the babies were displaying some kind of emotionless state which was eerie to observe in children that young. He had first thought of a remnant from the birth trauma, but it appeared that they were all perfectly aware, and even more than that, accutely aware of their environment to the point of displaying qualities of awareness akin to telepathy or pre-sentience.

                Sam’s innate talent with the young ones had been very beneficial to them, and Al was hoping, would help them access their emotional communications as a guidance system to navigate within the immense and potentially overwhelming quantity of subjective information they were given such an easy access to.

                Finally after having spent so much time before the cyputer, Al was collapsing from tiredness. He threw himself on the tatami for a healthy dose of rejuvenating sleep. Or so he thought…

                :fleuron:

                Al woke up with a chill, sweat beading over his eyebrow.
                He remembered.
                They would come… Hybrids from their future… He remembered having met one a few years ago.
                A strange bald guy with piercing eyes and strange snorting twitches on his face. One moment he was talking to him in the middle of the ramp waiting for a condocab, and the moment after, he had forgotten all of this encounter.
                The guy had said intently to wait for the time when the Dream would remind them it was the Time of the Reunion.
                So what was next? Aliens coming in their aluminum flying saucepans making mosquito sounds?
                That sounded awfully like the outrageous rants that old Russian guy named Pasha was making years ago in the archives of Dory —which they had taken as a basis for their Reality Play…

                Gosh, that dream was so vivid, it couldn’t be a coincidence… Especially since the first Hybrids to make contact all looked like they were clones of Becky!

                #891
                AvatarJib
                Participant

                  His teeth had been nudging him for a few days, or maybe a few weeks actually. Last Wednesday, Yurick and him had a chat with their friends Michaela and Elias, and Yann told them about his questioning.
                  Now, he was wondering about what was the meaning of all that in his new understanding of his reality. He was having the impression that he was in a complex video game and that at the beginning he hadn’t been told about all the fun stuffs he could do in it. Many aspects of this video game were unraveling and still he was feeling cold feet about jumping ahead.
                  Yann was noticing that his teeth were nudging himself mainly when he was doing certain things, like judging himself, finding himself unworthy, trying to force himself in certain directions, or to force his body. It was like his body was an amazing communication device from him to himself. It was continuously giving him information, not only about his environment like temperature, smells, lights and images, but also about what would have been hidden like weather patterns, mass excitement or balance, mass tension or release…
                  Elias had told him and Yurick that their energy was constantly open to each other, in a continuous merging and exchanging process. They were quite aware of that now, and at the beginning of their relation it would have been overwhelming, but now it was really fulfilling in many ways. Even when they were not in physical proximity, they would be together and feel each other. But they were also more centered upon themselves and they were not as influenced by the mood of the other as they had been ;)) they had reached a more balanced relationship and were beginning to intensify the movement.
                  Yann had also begun to be aware of a humming tone, inaudible, but very present. It was humming under the veil of this reality and he had been told it was one of his language of communication. This was very intriguing and it was overlapping his interest in his body and his teeth, he was wondering about the effects of this humming tone on them.

                  #863

                  Blimey, Sha, them waves are huge! The sun’s gone in, an’ all.

                  It’s alot blimmen warmer than back ‘ome though, Gloria, replied Sharon. Wind’s picking up a bit, innit?

                  I’ll say! Did you ‘ear someone shout? asked Gloria. Oh bugger, it’s started to rain!

                  Oh give over, Glor, it’ll pass over in a minute. Keep yer knickers on, will ya? It’s a tropical island, the weather’s supposed to be nice and ‘ot, innit?

                  #848

                  This is a bloody odd place is you ask me, said Gloria. The weathers nice and all, but it’s all very ODD.

                  Yeah I know what you mean, replied Sharon. Some odd goings on around here, I can’t keep track of it all. My head just gets fuzzier and fuzzier.

                  ODD, now there’s an odd word if ever there was one. ODD, she said, savouring the sound of it. ODD. Odd…. ODD….

                  The more you think about it the odder it gets, agreed Gloria. She picked up a twig that was lying next to her beach towel, and wrote ODD in the sand. It’s like a tart and two half tarts, she said.

                  Sharon propped herself up on her elbows and peered at her freind. What? What tarts? Don’t tell me we’ve got competition arriving on the island.

                  Not that kind of tart, Sha, pie tarts. Look, look ‘ere at this word ODD. It’s like a pie and two half pies. If the pies weren’t halved it would be OO.

                  You soft ‘narna, Glor, Sharon giggled. What are you on?

                  #845

                  She put down the plate of honeycomb and turned round slowly, her calm exterior belying the fear which had suddenly gripped her insides.

                  He had called her Agent V!

                  She had to stay calm, think quickly.

                  And why is that, Jarvis?

                  Jarvis, what did she know about him? He had been employed by Dr Bronkelhampton, although Veranassessee had resisted the idea vigorously. The fewer people on the island the better as far as she was concerned. But the doctor had insisted he needed someone to tend the gardens, and in the end she had decided it wasn’t worth making an issue of.

                  I think I might be able to answer that question. Agent Gabriele entered the kitchen. His sudden presence had almost as disconcerting effect on Veranassessee as the revelation that Jarvis knew her identity.

                  A little sideline of our beloved Doctor is to experiment with honeybee mutations. Isn’t that right, Jarvis? And in the process he has discovered a way to alter the chemical composition of the honeycomb. It looks and tastes like honey, but too much of it is deadly.

                  Veranassessee turned to Jarvis. You knew this Jarvis …. but then why leave it in the fridge … and why warn me?

                  Wasn’t me left it in the fridge. I saw it there earlier. I figured the Doctor left it there. Buggered if I know why. He’s an odd one that one. Getting odder by the minute too.

                  A loud clattering outside and they all turned.

                  Winds getting up quickly, said Agent Gabriele in clipped tones. Secure the hives Jarvis. God knows we don’t need mutated bees on the loose. V tell the guests to stay in their rooms and away from the windows, and then meet me in my room. I’ll deal with the Doctor.

                  :fleuron:

                  Bloody windy here aint it. Thought I was coming to a bloody tropical paradise! Mavis was looking outside anxiously.

                  Oh this aint typical. The weathers been grand. We’ve been out bloody sun baking most days.

                  Oh we have! The sun and airs got special beauty qualities here. That Vessie told us that. Encourages us to get out and about.

                  Ere I know what will cheer you up. Lets get a snack from the kitchen. There’s some special ureu beauty biscuits in the pantry, and the chocolate brownies are bloody delicious. Who’d have thought chocolate had special beauty qualities eh. She’s a genius that Vassie. Oh I tell you what, I found some lovely honeycomb in the fridge this morning! Sharon licked her lips in anticipation.

                  Oh I’m bloody drooling here, Sha! You’re a bloody genius you are

                  #839

                  Veranassessee stared anxiously out the window of the compound kitchen. The sky was grey and threatening. The weather forecast was predicting strong winds and high tides asTropical Cyclone Ycart headed towards the coast.

                  She could hear an annoying high pitched chattering in the distance, Sha and Glor were clearly delighted to be reunited with their old friend. The other two new arrivals had declined all offers of hospitality and had slunk quietly to their room.

                  In her hand was the little jar of black stuff Mahiliki had sent her in his latest parcel. “This is full of Vitamin B. It will do you good” the note attached had read. She rolled her eyes. Ever the romantic, she muttered to herself. She put her knife in the jar and tentatively licked the gooey concoction.

                  TELE LEVU OULU COW!

                  She spat the disgusting stuff out and looked around for something to try and rid her mouth of the dreadful taste. To her suprise she found a plate of honeycomb in the fridge. Although there were bee hives on the island, Dr Bronkelhampton had always insisted upon tending them himself, becoming quite agitated if anyone else went near them,. Lately his mental state had not predisposed him to doing much more than shutting himself away in his office.

                  I wouldn’t touch that if I were you, Agent V, came a familiar voice behind her.

                  #1953

                  In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                  EricEric
                  Keymaster

                    Sounds talking ground slowly life,
                    Weather suddenly blog nothing ABOUT skulls.
                    News land call information ABOUT movie
                    Times FOR SOME light sync
                    Sitting STILL, try heard…

                    #2017

                    In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                    EricEric
                    Keymaster

                      connection notice(d )able
                      :big_rose: roses looks magic kiss :face-kiss: Franci girl love
                      nothing related stories:
                      village strange cave, weather °flove :heart: body office open …

                    Viewing 20 results - 81 through 100 (of 138 total)