Forum Replies Created
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Replies
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“I’m not sure this was a good idea,” said Shawn-Paul as the taxi driver sped away tooting and shouting, ‘good luck, you’re gunna need it!’
Maeve investigated the gate. “It certainly looks impenetrable … and the barbed wire fence is too high to scale… but, hey, who is writing this? Do you know?”
“Lucinda, I think … “
“Oh well In that case there is bound to be a propeller thingy somewhere and we can fly over the fence.”
“Brilliant!” Shawn-Paul rummaged in his duffle bag. “Here it is! A wooden topped beanie! Best thing is, as Lucinda is writing, we won’t even have to explain how the mechanism works.”
“Here you are then,” said the driver. They were parked outside of an imposing iron gate with a large padlock. “This is as far as I can take you. I dont have authority to go any further.”
“Authority? You mean this is it?” said Maeve. “All I can see are trees.”
“Usually there is someone here to open the gate when visitors arrive. Must be running late. That’s not like them.”
“Oh,” said Maeve. “They aren’t actually expecting us. I mean, we didn’t make an appointment or anything.”
The driver shook his head and laughed. He turned his head to look at them. “I might as well take you back then. You don’t get in here without being expected.” He started the engine.
“Wait!” said Maeve. “We haven’t come all this way to give up. Have we?” She looked at Shaun-Paul who, after a moment of hesitation, nodded.
“Damn!” shouted Agent X. “I left the water bottle behind! We can’t go back – the propeller thingy is malfunctioning! We’re coming in for a crash landing! Hold on tight V!”
Destination D pulsed and glowed like a giant pearl surrounded by dense green forest. To the east was the ocean and just inland were Doctor Bronkelhpampton’s original premises, now being developed into a small shopping mall.
“Wow,” breathed Agent V. “I had no idea … it almost looks alive.”
“Coming in to land,” shouted Agent X. He pointed with his free hand to a clear area just visible through the green. “Over there. Get ready—this propeller thing is brand new out of HQ and I havn’t had much practice with descents.”
“Better,” said Helper Effie. “I think it best not to attempt a sex scene too early on in your writing development. A most advanced skill. I did have one pupil … well you will have heard of her … the award winning writer, Finnley Moose? She wrote the most skilled sex scenes. Incredibly moving and … emotionally raw. The best sex scenes I have ever come across in a new writer.”
She smiled kindly at Lucinda. “I don’t expect you to all be Finnleys. Keep up the good effort.”
Agent V paused. “Okay, well, they are my sister’s kids. But I do see them … now and again anyway … horrid little rugrats really. And I’m not actually married … almost engaged though.”
“So there is hope!” said Agent X. “With this propeller thingy propelling us at the speed of light we have time for a quickie and we can still intercept the magpies!”
Agent V rolled her eyes. “Tempting though that charming proposition is, I suggest we concentrate on the job at hand.”
“It might be useful to do an indepth character analysis of Agent V,” said Helper Effy with a patient smile.
“You’re right, six kids … god, what was I thinking.”
“I’m a married woman with six kids now,” said Agent V dragging her eyes from his groin. “We are wasting valuable time. I suggest we use your propeller to intercept the magpies before they reach Destination D.”
“I see you are trying to sexy things up, Lucinda,” said Helper Effy. “Be mindful not to lose the plot in the process.”
Lucinda reddened. “I’ll fix it,” she said.
“You forget, Agent X, I have lived on *Tifi my whole life. It is most certainly not a local tradition to wear a beanie with a wooden top. Now, tell me? What’s really going on?”
Agent X leaned on the mangled bicycle and stared silently at V. “It’s good to see you. I’d forgotten how hot you are when you are being assertive,” he said at last.
- The locals call the island Tifi.
“Agent X? I thought you were in New Zealand,” gasped Veranassessee helping him up.
“Keep your mouth shut,” he hissed at her and then moaned in pain. “I’m working undercover. Where is my beannie with the wooden top?”
“Bloody hell,” said the driver. “Sorry about that. You fellas alright back there?”
“Don’t turn … just keep your eyes on the road … we are fine,” said Maeve. “Are you okay?” she mouthed to Shawn-Paul. He rubbed his temple tentatively and then nodded.
“Yeah, I couldn’t stop,” said the driver. “I’ve only just got my bloody licence back.”
“I’t‘s Agent V here.”
“For God’s sake, how many times, Agent V?”
“Sorry, forgot the damn code. Anyway, the magpies have landed. Or are about to land.”
As soon as the car was out of sight, Veranassessee stopped jogging. “Phew,” she said, wiping the sweat from her brow. “Couldn’t have kept that up for much longer.”
“Ah! There you are, my dear,” said Alessandro. “I have searched all over the house for you and now I find you in the laundry.” He shook his head and waggled a finger at Liz. “Where is that naughty maid of yours who should be doing this?.”
Liz leapt away from the laundry basket. “I was looking for something other than this … this obscenity,” she said flinging the pink satin garment to the ground. “And, who exactly are you?”
“I am Alessandro! Fashion Designer extraordinaire. I am rather surprised you do not know of me,” he said, pouting. “Your maid employed me to assist you with your fashion choices.”
“Cheek!” spluttered Liz.
Finnley limped into the room. “Oh you are here. Good,” she said flatly. “Sort her out, will you, Alessandro. She has done nothing but moan lately.”
“Finnley, what is wrong with your leg?” asked Liz. “Don’t bother answering. You are merely trying to garner sympathy.”
“Sure,” said Finnley. She bent down to pick up the pink satin with a loud groan. “I might cut this up for doll’s clothes,” she said mysteriously.
“Hang on. I just saw a friend of mine,” said the driver, skidding to a stop. “You don’t mind, do ya?”
Without waiting for an answer, he leaned over and opened the front passenger door.
“Oy, Veranassessee! You wanna a lift somewhere?”
“I’m out for the exercise. Thanks though. “ She waved them on.
She’s a good sort,” said the driver, narrowly avoiding a large pot hole. “Bloody roads are a disgrace. She’s been on the island for years. Since the upset.”
“What upset was that?” Asked Maeve, raising questioning eyebrows at Shawn-Paul.
The driver turned round and looked at them in the back seat. “I’ve probably said more than I should but …. “
“Watch out!” shouted Shawn-Paul.
“Speaking of philosophical …” said Godfrey
“Were we? Were we REALLY speaking of philosophical? Or were we talking about that … that … DERELINQUANT, Finnley. And SHE is anything BUT philosophical!”
“I was speaking of philosophical … it reminded me of something I read recently … about the great philoosopher, Lemone, who as we know is the epitome of philosophicalness. The gold standard, if you will. It seems he has had a change of heart recently.”
Liz wiped beads of nervous sweat off her forehead and sat down. “Do tell,” she said. “Perhaps he will soothe my troubled and long suffering soul.”
“He has derogated his previous sayings as rubbish and issued a public apology. ‘Sorry about the nonsense comments,’ he is reputed to have said.”
“Beautiful,” said Liz shaking her head in wonderment. “So succinct and humble. The man is a genius.”
“Can you keep the manic cackling down, you guys,” said Finnley strolling nonchalently through the living room. “I’m on the phone.”
She waved her phone at them to prove it. “A bit of a dust trap,” she mouthed at Liz and pointed to her prized rope reptile on the dresser.
“Sorry about that, old chap. Yes, so what were you saying about the book deal? Oh really? What a hoot!”
“What a hoot?” Godfrey whispered.
“This is a travesty of justice … or something,” said Liz. “Stop hooting and talking nonsense, Godfrey. And speak up! Shout! I insist you shout your HOOTS!”
Finnley rolled her eyes. “Got to go, old chap. There’s crazy shit going on around here. I’ll see you at the awards!”
“Wot you ‘oping for then, Sha?” whispered Mavis. “I mean, wot you bloody ‘oping for from the Doc?”
“Wot’s that, Mavis? Can’t bloody ‘ear you if you don’t speak up a bit,” said Sha.
“Keep your bloody voice down, Sha!” said Gloria.
“I said, wot you ‘oping for? Out of this beauty treatment?” repeated Mavis in a loud hiss.
“Oh, that’s a bloody good question, Mavis. You always were a thinker. I’m not thinking to look twenty again, or anythink like that. It’d be nice but I’m realistic, me. I dunno really … Thirty maybe? Wot you ‘oping for Gloria?”
“I’m thinking we should ‘ave bloody thought this through before! And now, ‘ere we are, sat ‘ere in his bloody waiting room. It’s too bloody late to wonder wot we’re doing ‘ere now! If we go back, that bloody Nurse Trassie will skin us for garters!”
“Blimey, Glor, wot’s got you in a ‘uff?”
“I’m sorry, Luv. I didn’t mean to ‘ave a go. I’m scared is wot it is. I read summink in the fine print just now, about the Doc, wot’s worried me,” said Glor.
“Oh, bloody ‘ell! I didn’t bother to look at them bleedin papers they gave us to sign. Couldn’t even read it, the writing was that bloody small. Wot’d it say then, Glor?” said Mavis.
Before Gloria could answer, Barbara walked briskly into the waiting room.