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Ann opened the letter from Morgana and read:
“The Fellowship congratulates and thanks you for your continuity work on the script. We acknowledge the extreme difficulties you contend with as you face erratic forces resistant to any form of continuity and seeking only to create meaningless threads. The Fellowship also advises the script will be even further improved if you could sexy it up a bit.”
“Good God” said Ann, momentarily nonplussed.
“Never mind the Fellowflip now Gordon” Ann said exitedly, brandishing a letter. “Or are you Godfrey? Well, whoever you are, look at this! It’s a letter from that fat A. Morgana from Anatrica!”
“And where, pray tell, is Anatrica?”
Ann looked shocked. “Why, it’s south of Antartica, eveyone knows that!”
nonsense real making write
gave seen girl heliptrope
known latest beautiful news
sense lilac waiting
attention ladies
tell ann
“You mean you’ve finished seeing the funny side?” asked Godfrey and Gordon in unison.
“NEVER!” replied Ann firmly.
“Godfrey resisted the urge to respoond…”
Ann was initially horrified to notice the Ooh dimension bleethrough manifested in an errant vowel.
“It’s the 57th Creative Challenge theme, so I have to do it,” Ann remarked to her editor. “Obviously”, she added.
“What do you mean, obviously?” asked her editor (Ann had forgotten his new name in the second book, and toyed breifly with the idea of making up a new one ~ perhaps Rumbold the Pale?)
“Well, I would have thought that was obvious, Godfrey!” Ann replied tartly, secretly delighted that she’d remembered the old boy’s name. Notwithstanding, Ann continued to make little ‘cuh’ and ‘tut’ noises, and rolled her eyes a bit, until Godfrey eventually replied.
“Spiggot on the spike freak, Lingenburg Dash”.
“I beg your pardon?” Ann looked at Godfrey in astonishment. “Holy Moly, I said that earlier myself, whatever does it mean?”
“I haven’t got a clue, dear,” he replied. “Just popped into my head, you know, how it does…” His voice trailed off as he stared into space.
“I’ll google it.” As Ann started the search, she realized she’d completely forgotten that she was doing the 57th Creative Challenge entry. “Blimey O Riley, what am I LIKE” she said to herself, with a wry grin ~ she wasn’t altogether sure what wry meant, but somehow she felt it was wry ~ “Now what was the theme again?”
“Misery Loves Company” Godfrey piped up. “And dare I say, it’s rather obvious what has occurred here.”
“What do you mean, obvious?” retorted Ann, somewhat snarkily, although nowhere near as snarkily as Lavender might have said it.
Godfrey resisted the urge to respoond with a few little ‘cuh’s’ and ‘tut’s’, and chose to simply smile enigmatically.
Ann scowled at her old freind and said “If you don’t spell it out, you maddening old coot, I’ll write you out of this story. I’ll delete you.”
“You can write me out of YOUR story if you wish, but I may continue to write YOU into MY story.”
“Oh Gawd, WHAT?” Ann said to herself. “Where did that come from?”
“Ann, let me explain.”
“You sound just like Elias, Godfrey!”
“Ha! Ha! Ha!”
“Ahahahahahahah”
“Now shut up and pay attention”
“Elias would never say that”
“That’s YOU saying that, Ann, to yourself,” said Godfrey.
“YOU said that Godfrey, it’s right here in black and white!” retorted Ann.
“It’s never black and white, Ann, and it’s only here in black and white as ME saying it because YOU wrote it.”
“Well there’s no answer to that” replied Ann. She went to put the kettle on.
Ann returned to her computer with a steaming mug of tea.
“Now, shall we get back to the point, Ann?” inquired Godfrey, with a wry grin.
“I must look up that word later”, Ann mused. “I seem to be inordinately fond of the word wry tonight, I wonder why. I Wonder Wry…”
“ANN!” Godfrey shouted. “Back to the point!”
Ann looked pained. “What point?”
“The point of this story, and the obvious occurence therein.”
“Welp, you’ve lost me there, Gordon, there was a point?”
“Oh My God, this could go on all night” Gordon was wringing his hands.
“Good God Gordon, didn’t see you come in!” exclaimed Godfrey.
Ann was giggling helplessly. She was rather pleased with the way she covered her faux pas over the editors name.
“‘Ann was giggling helplessly’; you see Ann, there is your clue!” Godfrey said excitedly, as he read aloud what Ann had just written.
“OH! NOW I get it! D’oh! Nonsense loves company! Giggling loves company! No wonder I couldn’t stay focused on misery!”
lavender stop story ~
exclaimed, “whole string needed!”
taking jorid present questions
sense lovely funny close create
creating patterns
possible game
Despite doing so well in Continuity Class, Ann had wandered off again. By the time she returned, she had forgotten what the thread was. I must sign up for that Thread Refresher Course, she told herself. I wonder if dear old Frantic can squeeze me in?
They’re all as mad as hatters here, Heliptrope said to himself, as he looked in on the snoring pair before making his escape. It was a blessing in disguise when old Lavvie left me for Oleander.
Before long Harvey was snoring like a wart hog too. Lavender had promptly fallen asleep again after reprimanding Heliptrope in no uncertain terms for waking her up.
Well, I may as well go out, Heliptrope decided. I think I’ll wear my new eau de nil shirt.
Oh, lifting cupbaords. For a minute I thought he was yawning about all the short comments.
What on earth are you on about now, Heliptrope? asked Lavender, a trifle crossly.
Lavender stormed off to her bedroom, and threw herself on the bed. The flu was making her irritable, and she knew she was being snarky but couldn’t seem to stop herself. She sighed, and tried to relax. Within minutes she was fast asleep, snoring like a wart hog.
Well, mused Lavender, nil means nothing, and eau means water, so it must mean nothing water. No water? Nothing but water? What on earth could it mean?
It was indeed a pickle that Lavender had gotten herself into. Cucumber Pickle Green, and two coats of it as well, and now the client was complaining that it was the wrong shade of green.
Lavender’s embrace had very nearly dislodged Heliptropes curly grey wig, revealing his bald head. The Messengers of the Fellowship were always carefully disguised as bossy old bats, cunningly concealing their true identity.
Heliotrope rolled his eyes and reminded Harvey for the umpteenth time of the correct pronunciation of his name.
“And as for you Lavvie, I’d have thought that you’d have remembered!”
“Oh bugger off” Lavender replied, affectionately, and ran over and hugged Heliotrope long and hard.
“I love it when you talk nonsense in that sexy voice, Tina!” said Sam, unexpectedly poking his head round the door. “Say something rude!”
Tina rolled her eyes again, and harumphed.