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  • in reply to: Synchronicity #1825
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      A synch worth noting:

      A few minutes or hours after I had written this comment T.P. came back online and she told be that

      • she had received a phone call earlier in the morning from a Yolanda who had repeated twice her name, like it was something important
      • While she was driving with her guest, she mentioned loons (birds looking like ducks) and they discussed yodeling (loons have a cry similar to these sounds)
      in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1202

      “I can ‘ear someone comin’! Sha!” Mavis was pointing the door with an alarmed look on her face

      “But it’s their lunch break, nobody’s supposed to be ‘ere”

      “Then, that’s our chance! Prepare the ropes and the snet!”

      in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1201

      It wasn’t very difficult for Akita to have the door opened. Having Kay roam unnoticed in the rooms and corridors next to his cell made things very easy actually, giving him enough time to do his things.
      He’d known the art of lock-picking since he was a child, and he would have been able to open that door’s latch blindfolded, hands tied behind his back, with only his big toe and dental floss… so old this one was.

      So in a few minutes he was out; a few minutes later, he had found a proper military outfit in the lockers, Kay had been giving him the codes of, and as everyone was gone for the lunch break, the whole area was deserted.

      The greenhouse room was open, and a blinding light was pouring into it.

      “You didn’t tell me what made these watermelons special” Akita turned to the phantom dog.

      “Why don’t you have a try by yourself… Take a little one over there, and throw it on the opposite wall”

      Akita did as instructed, then backed off quickly blown off by the explosion .

      “Watermelbombs? are you kidding?”

      “Not really; it’s sad, but people have done lots of researches here to produce bio-degradable weapons easily grown. I think it wasn’t a coincidence you and the others have been brought here”

      “The others? You mean… Oh sh*t, I forgot the ladies, don’t tell me they’re still here?”

      “Yep, they are here. And they’re quite ready to fight for their survival too, believe it or not”

      “Oh, I don’t have any trouble seeing them as fierce warriors!”

      in reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud #2032
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Creating shifting themselves
        Tree feel sand reach whole ago
        Anita light closer step
        Jose closed near merely hill
        Far lots began

        in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1197

        “That’s so disgusting” Gloria was complaining, as their first ‘snet’ (that’s short for ‘snot net’) was nearly completed.

        “Not to mention ‘aving to knot with bloody chicken bones! How low can you go…” Mavis echoed with a snuffle.

        “Yeah, it looks mighty indestructible that knitting, ladies” an appraising Sharon said to the other divas. “Now, the ropes!”

        in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1196

        Sure I do ,” said Kay to a disbelieving Akita. “Did you notice the bio-hazard facility next to the psych-ward?”

        “That strange greenhouse sort of room where they seem to grow stuff?”

        “Yeah, not any stuff they grow…”

        “Try me?”

        “They grow very special watermelons there…”

        in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1195
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          “So, any of you noticed Becky Pooh at the party ?” Al asked Tina and Sam on their way back to their place, waiting patiently for a gondocab in the crowded chilly night.

          “Jeeze, with this temperature, they probably will have to get the gondoskaters earlier” Tina managed to say, blowing some air in the hands of her costume. “Well, I’m not sure, though there was some distinct feeling that she was around” she said, going back to the question.

          “I don’t know why, but I had that distinct feeling that she was a time-travelling goose” Sam said when their eyes asked about his impressions.
          “Well, sounds daft like her, if she tried to pop into that fat lady under the white goose costume with the big watch pocket at the hall” Tina said with a chuckle.

          “Don’t laugh at those pop-ins,” Sam said ruefully, “They can really be something!”

          Al chuckled with Tina as he was remembering Tina’s uncanny knack for projecting herself temporarily into unsuspicious Lewis-Writton-bags spy-ladies.

          “So a goose, eh… why not after all…”

          in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1194
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            “Barry the White Bear is the last person having seen Arky the missing Aardvark “ Mlle Mongoose reported back to the team of worried animals.

            “And did he say anything more?” Angela Goose asked, interrupting busy-looking Mlle Mongoose in mid-sentence.

            “Well, if you’d let the Director speak, perhaps we could hear what she knows” said Freaky the Ferret.
            “Don’t be zo mean to Angelipooh” Jobby the Hippo said compassionately “You know poor Angie is zo buzzy with Baba Yolanda coming over”
            “Who?” asked Weirdy the Weasel distractedly
            “Baba Yolanda the Loon !” answered Angela with a hint of exasperation “You’re not paying attention my dear? I told you ages ago she’d be coming this week to the Zoo to spend her winter here… I figure it’s getting too difficult for her in the wild given her age.”
            “Well, I hope it’ll be better this time; last time she came, she left you in a pretty bad shape, it took us months to get you back on your feet. It should be time for her to get over that old ugly-duckling complex…”

            “Ahem”, managed to say Mlle Mongoose who was however following the discussion with great interest
            She continued “As far as Arky is concerned, perhaps you should go see him yourselves. You’ll probably get more from Barry White than I did; He’s bearing the management a grudge since we decided to raise the temperature of his room because everybody around was catching colds after colds.”

            “Oh, great… my time of hitting the spotlight has finally come, and I’m stuck with dear ol’ Baba Yolanda” sighed Angela Goose.

            in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1193
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              Georges and Salome’s journal

              From Salome’s account of her introduction to the Turmak People (Part 3)

              Cil and I have stayed on the Murtuane longer than was required for the report on the events occurring here. Though it was not required, it proved invaluable for me to gather much information on both the planet itself, but more important, on the interconnections with the other planets and the Guardians themselves.

              A pivotal point in this exploratory mission was the impressive encounter with one of the few still focused Nirguals of this dimension. N’meôrl, as he introduced himself to us, out of concern for the current events came to contact Cil despite his looking askance at the Guardians on the whole.
              As it appears to be, due to their acute awareness of how energy can be manipulated to create one’s own reality, some of the Guardians became to view themselves as superior in knowledge and skills as to the other conscious creatures roaming on this dimension —most of whom already having far more understanding of things deemed “magical” in my own earthly dimension of origin. However, viewing themselves as such (though by no means the standards in the Guardians societies) had them manipulate some of these others; mostly to entertain themselves or to experiment, without concern as to the others’ reactions.

              Frown upon by many Guardians, this practice was tolerated notwithstanding, and had created a few pockets of what the Guardians called “slaves”. Inquiring to Cil as to how people with such thin veils between their subjective creative source and the objective realizations could become “slaves” to others, she had struggled a bit to explain to me at first. Allowing her to reach into my awareness for associations or analogies with similar energetic displays, she surprised me —surprised is even a mild word for my initial reaction— by telling me it was the same as our religions. Struggling initially to understand her point, I find myself, if not entirely agreeing with it, at least being able to explain what she meant by that. To her, people were ultimately free unless they themselves were tricked into bondage. But bondage could be of various nature, and she continued to explain, physical bondage was the less efficient of all. “Guidance”, on the opposite, with the proper construction of suggestions and beliefs, could yield very efficient results.
              So, those “rogue” Guardians were nothing else but priests? The difference between this association and Cil’s distaste for them seemed too strong. Perhaps I would have to reassess my own beliefs.

              So, apparently some of these Guardians had been responsible for disturbances. Cil seemed to understand that something grave was happening, but when she tried to explain to me, once again words or clusters of thoughts seemed to fail her. She found in my memory some analogy which seemed again quite besides the point, though very intriguing.
              She said it was similar to what our medicine men were doing with their needles. She probably had reached into my memories of traditional acupuncture medicine. She went on to compare the planets as a single body, with bumps and hollows in energy; usually, the body knows how to harmoniously balance both of these, and a bump can reflect into a hollow and vice-versa. Sometimes, when people create illnesses, the practitioner will move these to help. But something else was happening here: the flow was artificially changed, she said.
              “What was the point in that?” I asked. She pondered for a moment, then answered without judgment that it was probably for the sake of the experience.
              “The Nirgual is mostly warning us that this experience may not lead to an equilibrium before long. That it may profoundly modify the energy on the planets, and not for the better. The Murtuane and its Turmak people have mostly had a stabilizing impact on the very energetic events happening on the Duane. Modifying this could quickly take things out of our hands” she said worriedly.

              in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1191

              When the two strangers were gone, the silents observers were left with many new questions.

              “This was important for you to see,” finally conveyed N’meôrl to them. “Now,” he continued “let me bring you back to your own timeline, on that same location, many many years after these events; this will make it easier for you to rejoin your home. You will travel safely into my own awareness.”

              And as they had understood what was to happen, they all felt stretched around, and the scenery started to flow away like a purple sand dune moving under strong winds.
              Moments later, they were still on the Kandulim, though the scenery felt distinctly more focused than before.

              Leormn was back, at the place where the giant bird-like creature once was.

              in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1188

              — “I’M FRIGGINCOLD!”
              — “I have to agree with Glor”, said Mavis, as Sharon was about to object to the loud whines
              — “Oh, bummer, you two peas in a pod! How can you be cold with all that fur on you! And how do you want to break out this prison you whiners eh?”
              — “You’re the bloody genius Sha, you tell us! Had you not signed us up for those stupid beauty treatments…”
              — “Now that’s a bit late for what-ifs, init? Let’s make the best of what we’ve got; had it not always worked out that way?”

              The two others Yeah’ed in unison.

              — “Do you mean we’ll burn our fleece to make us warm?”, Glor asked sheepishly
              — “Don’t be bloddy silly! If we want to escape, better keep that fur as long as we’re in penguin land !”
              — “So what?”
              — “What ‘what’?! Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed?” Sharon’s voice trailed off with a hint of hopelessness

              WHAT?!”
              — “You’ve been snotting all around for hours, and you haven’t bloddy noticed?!”
              WHAT?!”

              — “Our snot, bloddy ‘ell! It’s sticky like those goddam spider webs! With a bit of training, I’m sure we can knit a solid net and ropes and stuff to get out of ‘ere!”

              in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1186

              Arona was fretting.

              “Now, what is this all about? Can someone explain me? The purple sand is pretty, the green sky too, however it looks just like an insane dream from a deranged mind having abused smoke of robjane leaves.”

              Framing Irtak —who was having a funny pout on his face— the dragons Heckle and Jeckle were too busy considering with an amused attention the new form and energy field that their progenitor had taken.

              No words were spoken to answer Arona’s plea for answers, but answers were starting to come to them in the form of a bundle of energy which would be difficult to translate in a linear manner.

              They started to understand a few things. That for one, N’meôrl the Nirgual was not here by chance, at this place and time. Again, they had travelled far in the past of the history of their dimension, and events of great importance were in motion, that they were given to witness.

              At first, the flow of information they were having was like a stream they thought they had no control of, but as questions were forming they noticed that it was altering the flow which was then encompassing the answers to those questions.

              Like when Jeckle wondered if he and his twin had big birdies counterparts like this one to merge with, and got the following answer “No. For you are quite new essences fragments, and thus do not yet hold focuses in similar extent to your progenitor.”

              Arona was quite pleased by this new mode of getting answers, especially as she could visibly get the answers she was genuinely looking for, not those coming from questions she was only remotely interested in.

              N’meôrl was showing them also, that unlike him, they were not quite physically focused into that environment, and were not noticed by the small surrounding creatures like the little red scrabs crawling in the sand. They were mainly there to observe and draw their own conclusions, as soon some events would occur.

              As they’d finished absorbing the information, they started to notice a feeling of expectation in the air. N’meôrl conveyed to them that they would have to stay quiet in his peripheral awareness for “they” were coming, and he was on a delicate mission.

              :fleuron:

              Footsteps on the beach.
              A man approaching. He looks like Irtak and Arona, as if he had just come into this alien world from the same door they had taken. But he fails to notice them.

              He stays, facing the deep green waters of the ocean brushing the shore, as if expecting someone.

              A strange buzz starts to fill the space. A point of focused light the size of a pinhole appears in front of him, expands quickly with an elastic quality, and pops with a soft sound, revealing an improbably tall figure under a cloak.

              The man greets the new-comer with deference
              “Master Sinadron”
              “Jarvis, my good friend.”

              They start to walk on the beach at the unspoken invitation of the one with the smooth voice named Sinadron.

              “So, I’ve been told our little matter is going very well.”
              “Yes, very well, Master; I am deeply grateful for your intervention; without your help I’ve been told, my dear would not have been allowed to…”
              “Let’s not talk of such things any longer; it was such a delight to help two sweet young souls so deeply in love”

              Somehow, despite the words of kindness which are slithering with ease, the invisible witness got the uncanny feeling that they are but a deceptive fragment of the truth.

              “Now. Tell me”, the one named Sinadron continues in a mellifluous voice “Why have you called me for?”
              “The settlement you have suggested us to start on this land…”
              “Yes, I am aware, please go to the point instead of labouring things I am well aware of.” The voice had sharpened a bit.
              “I am sorry Master.”
              “Continue”
              “There is a growing dissent that…”
              “And from who that shall come?”
              “Err… I hear Pelorus has spoken to the Zentauras…”
              “Pelorus is but a nuisance.” The voice wasn’t asking for contradiction, though an imperceptible grin was floating on the half-hidden face.
              He continued “But I shall help you, once again
              “Master, you are too generous…”
              “Let me finish. I will provide you with more men and women, willing to start a new life under your command, to help you grow your settlement. There are a few slaves on the Duane, that place from where you come who will do great.”
              “Master…”
              “They will be there in an hexade. Make sure you stand your ground until then, even if that means confronting those nasty Zentauras.”

              And without waiting for the confused thanks, he disappeared, grinning widely.

              in reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud #2031
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                It’s quite poetic today:

                Already expect work
                Shall black round focus
                Watermelons times
                Window night
                Movie hope
                Creation form
                Georges met hot Madame
                Theresa floor

                in reply to: Ancient Channeled Recipes – aka Tavern’s specials #2165
                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  And the famous “keeg soufflé” I shall add.
                  Definitely off menu ;))

                  Also “watermelon rind purée”

                  in reply to: The Best of Lemone’s Quotes #2160
                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    “When it’s too elaborate, it’s too weirdo, and when it’s pure delirium, it’s increasingly rubbish” — ID1776

                    “Clarify certain aspects, and take responsibility for how your energy is displayed, and do not rely on the machine to do it.” — ID1851

                    “You all notice a change in vowellness of your Ooniverse. Even those who are unaware notice a changing shift in vowellness. This is a new emergence into a wonderful vowellness that you have all agreed and decided to accomplish.” — ID1857

                    in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1185

                    “Did you see how Malvina went to her date?”
                    “Yes I saw it beloved” and she added with a giggle “though she probably wouldn’t like us to call that a ‘date’ huhu”.
                    “Ahaha” Georges was enjoying himself with various associations connected to his periphery. Associations with words like ‘date’, or with time-space connections, like the ones related to the dress Malvina was wearing.

                    Salome huddled herself up against Georges, and not looking at him, said in a dreamy gaze “I remember perfectly that first time we heard about the Zynder”
                    Georges answered, surfing on his own associations “I remember how people had so much trouble pronouncing it ‘right’ — Ze-In-dear, Zee-Indeer, Zaindher…ahaha it was so funny”.

                    Then coming back to Salome’s last sentence that had been hanging in the soft silence unanswered. “I think I heard about it before you did, but I was vaguely aware of it. You were the one to tell me the legend.”

                    “Yes, on that first day on the Kandulim, where the Zentaura told me about it.”
                    “I would love you to tell me again…”

                    The Legend of the Zyndre

                    as told to Salome by Zharon the 44th, of the Zentaura’s tribe

                    There is a legend among the people of this place, that people love to remind themselves of in times of despair. It’s the legend of this mythical creature named the Zyndre.
                    What the Zyndre looks like, nobody knows for sure until they see one. Because once you see one, you know what it is, without a shadow of doubt. It may be tricky because some people have seen one, and they get into fights about what it looks like, for such is the nature of the Zyndre that its form is diverse and it doesn’t show itself to two people the same.
                    That’s why my people have named it Zyndre, which means “the creature of a thousand forms”.
                    Some people have searched to catch it, but their attempts have always failed. For the Zyndre doesn’t show itself to the forceful people. The Zyndre is a peaceful creature that will find for you what you most desire.
                    That’s why many people have used to represent it with a large nose, for it is a seeker. It may find anything you want, but you have to desire it so much that it becomes the main focus of your attention. It burns in your head, not like a madness, but like a warm reinsurance, a soft knowingness that you will indeed find it, that which you desire most.
                    So that once you find the Zyndre, you know you’ve reached that thing that you desire, because the Zyndre is pointing you in its very direction.

                    “You know Georges”, she says “that night on the beach, I dreamt of the Zyndre”
                    “Really? And how did you perceive it?”
                    “It was beautiful, not like the classical representations we see, of that big-nosed creature; it was so elegant, like a small silver-shining spotted doe, with tall feet proportionally to its body, not unlike the Qilin of the ancient Chinese; and it was proposing me to ride it to escape its enclosure.
                    And I was thinking in the dream, ‘it must be strange and a bit uncomfortable when it’s galloping’ —because it’s small, and my feet will touch the ground.”
                    “So did you ride it?”
                    “Yes, and you were with me, and it was carrying us with ease and grace, like it was floating and gliding above the ground…” Salome looked at Georges with a smile “So that when I woke up, I knew without a shadow of a doubt, that I was exactly where I most desired to be.”

                    in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1184

                    “So we’ll be moving as soon as the others come back from their trip. Very well, that will be a great opportunity to see new environments for Yikes “ Vincentius acknowledged the news with his usual composure.

                    “Very well then, I hope you are not too worried about Arona, but she…”
                    “Not at all” Vincentius answered with a smile.
                    “Oh… Okay then. Perfect!”

                    Malvina added as if to make sure he had understood everything properly “So, I’ll be at my friend’s den for a few days. Georges and Salome will be here in case you need anything, and of course Buckie, though he might be a bit unpredictable…”

                    “Have a safe voyage” so Vincentius, who was not of many words when it wasn’t about saying something meaningful, ended the conversation.

                    :fleuron:

                    To go to see her friend Yimho, Malvina wanted to look pretty —not dashing, but not looking like a country girl either. She reached for the linen embroidered dress with the zynder patterns. She loved it, it would be perfect.

                    Yimho was a guy living nearby she had known briefly from her days of Sorcery training, who had a rejuvenating cave situated just under a hot spring, so that water was running almost everywhere inside the cave. On the walls, the floor, little pools everywhere. Yimho had this uncanny interest in golfindels and was telling all sorts of stuff to entertain people with; stuff that he got from tuning himself to the consciousness of the creatures.
                    Malvina was thinking she would have a nice time there, though the echoes of clicking sounds throughout Yimho’s dwelling were a bit disturbing…

                    in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1183

                    Inside the cave Malvina was considering to move again.

                    She couldn’t help but giggle softly at the thought of Arona fulminating at how restless that dragon of hers was. To tell the truth, she was one of high restlessness too. And her dragon, and his offspring were most of the time merely resonating to her high energy. Otherwise, they would be too happy to be left alone to dream in a corner of a cave glowing of glukenitch lights.

                    Now, she had to wait for Leormn’s return from his little vacation to be able to move swiftly. Granted she could do it alone, but it would be so tedious, with all those eggs hidden in various places. Perhaps she could do with a little vacationing herself. She was thinking, Georges and Salome would be certainly glad to take care of the cave in her absence, and of her guests.

                    She would go see them; she loved the little Ugling who was growing so fast he would now run in many places and ask funny questions. Vincentius (with the grumpy cat perched on his large shoulders out of reach from the bullying little one) was teaching him lots of things on the vegetation (mostly fungus and lichens inside) and on geology that the boy was eager to learn, with an unmistakable affinity for rocks though. He would be quick to learn how to summon the rock’s consciousness for many purposes.

                    She almost got lost in the tunnels again. “Someone should get those indications straight, dammit!” she swore as she entered a dead-end. A few turns right, and another left, and she was in front of the painted wall with the ‘PEACE OFF’ painted door. So that’s where they went… the door was visibly shut now…
                    A nearby snort suddenly caught her attention.

                    “Buckberry? What are you doing here little precious; hasn’t Arona taken you with her? Well, silly me, obviously not.” She added, seeing the floor covered with crushed buckberries juice. “Awww, you don’t even have the appetite for your cherished buckberries…”

                    Malvina knew of course that it wasn’t the closed door that kept Buckberry here, as he most probably could go wherever Arona was, if she summoned him properly, but it was rather the fact she had left without notice. Malvina laughed heartily “Aahaha, don’t be soft Buckie, she’s probably been tricked by your daddie and your little buggers of brothers, but she’ll come back…”

                    in reply to: The Story So Far #2155
                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      Tikfijikoo Island (continued)

                      (see this comment for previous part)

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

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

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

                      [Fast forward a few weeks later.]

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

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

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

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

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

                      in reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories #1181

                      “I told you, you shouldn’t have told them”
                      “Shut up! You’re not even real, none of this is real…”
                      “Well, I don’t know for you, but I feel real enough to be able to annoy you”

                      Akita wasn’t sure if those hallucinations were due to the shock of the freezing temperatures of the Antarctica base, or to the medications they’d given them since the military troops had landed on the shores of that island to place it under strict quarantine. All of that was a bit fuzzy afterwards.

                      He barely remembered how he’d been brought here. Someone had probably noticed the high energy vortexes occurring on the island, or perhaps someone in high places had been tipped about all the weird stuff that had occurred there. He couldn’t tell for sure.
                      However, something strange had occurred. He had started to be able to see Kay, his spirit dog, reappear soon after.
                      And that’s when everything started to go in a hellish downward spiral.
                      Perhaps he shouldn’t have tried to convince the medics in the first place. Now he wasn’t so sure the dog wasn’t all but a figment of his imagination, which was all fine for him, but he had to know.

                      “Has this… err… dog that you see speaking to you, has it ever told you anything you couldn’t have known yourself?” the medic had been asking him.
                      That’s what had the doubts start to creep. Perhaps he was just another traumatized war veteran, like a few others, creating funny speaking critters in his mind to cope with the amount of trauma he went through. That would be quite possible.

                      “Oh, come on Akita, you know I’m real, and everything we’ve gone through was real. Those friggin’ drugs they’ve given to you ain’t helpin’ you know”.

                      Kay was right about that. He was slurring his words, and could barely stand on his own. They had to escape from here; real, unreal, it didn’t really matter; but he was sure of one thing; it wasn’t feeling good. Not feeling good in the least.

                      “Kay?”
                      “What?”
                      “I suppose you got a plan, you sly dog?”

                    Viewing 20 replies - 1,241 through 1,260 (of 1,722 total)