📚 › Beauty Treatments Inc.

The adventures of Sha, Glo and Mavis, three late-middle aged friends not too fussy about methods to perfect their good looks.

feat. in Beauty Traps On The Island (in: Circle of Eights)

On Tikfijikoo, a mysterious island where a mad Doctor has found refuge to experiment beauty treatments with some unwitting patients. A little girl and a WWII veteran are guiding the escape from the clutches of the Doctor and dimension-crossing sentient spiders bent on world domination.

So the Story goes...

Viewing 25 replies - 51 through 75 (of 106 total)
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  • in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #1242

    “Bugger if that’s this itchy rug thingie, but I start sheddin’ ‘ere!”

    But the two others were too engrossed looking at the tile to noticed Mavis pulling handfuls of hair off her back… :yahoo_at_wits_end:

    Meanwhile in the captain’s empty quarters, while his dog Kay was playing remembrance games with the ladies who were more and more adept at configuring him visually, Akita was perplexed by the name on the maps of an unlikely sea towards which they were blissfully sailing…

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #1247

    Finally, sailing on the Orgasmic Sea had not been as difficult as Akita would have thought .

    Occasionally, while they were sleeping on the deck under the starry sky, he could hear a few “Ahs” and “Ohs” (something even some “Oooh” as far as he recalled) coming from the three ladies, but perhaps that was only the effects of their feeling again their skin against the sheets, since all their hair had almost now gone.

    He was wondering if that was a special disposition of the Brits and people coming from the cold areas, that kind of bestial growing of hair, and shedding in spring… Could well be, as his Asian ancestors never had been accustomed to growing much hair themselves, he couldn’t tell for sure.

    Perhaps they were dreaming too… As soon as they had found out about this strange piece of tile, their imagination seemed to have taken to new heights. They were speaking of Spreal, an ancient civilization buried for 570,000 years under the ices, near the Onyx river and had almost manifested the strong desire to come back to investigate.

    Hopefully Kay had given him the perfect excuse to not comply with the sometimes erratic demands of the three Graces: the iceberg was slowly melting in the giant structure of plastic containing the freshwater from the berg, and the heat exchange was also giving the propellant for the trip. They probably wouldn’t be able to get away so easily if they backed-off now.
    Hopefully their shedding had finished to convince them. Any vague desire left to go to the frozen place was long gone with the comfortable hairy insulation.

    Akita had thought for a moment of going back to his homeland, in Arkansas. But now that probably most of his family was dead, or thinking him dead, there wouldn’t be much point in doing that. Instead, he’d decided to trust living in the present. Not worrying about that elusive past from another life, and only focus on what route was open to him now.
    Sharon, Gloria and Mavis were apparently not in a hurry to come back home either, and now that Kay was more and more easily accessible for him, he didn’t feel alone at all. So all was well.

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #1279

    With the flood of water that was spilled on the land after the crash of the plastic-wrapping-the-now-melted-iceberg-ship dragged along by the strong pull of the engine for miles inside the lands, a huge pool had started to form that began to gather animals around.

    The blessings of the fresh water was in fact such that, not long before they managed to have their feet back on terra firma, the three valiant musketeers Sharon, Gloria and Mavis with their chivalric Akita and his faithful spirit dog Kay were surrounded by the most diverse fauna they’d been seeing in days.

    — Lookit that! Can ye believe it?!
    — Zebra, zebra,… ZEBRA!
    — What’s up with your underwear Glor’?
    — Zee-bras, no bloody brassieres! See?!
    — Well, no bloody wonder, it just looks like the Serengeti
    — What bloody gothic serum?
    — Jeeze, Serengeti! In Tanzania… Africa, the land of the Maasai, bloody Lake Victoria et cætera
    — Oh, you don’t start getting that snotty tone again…

    Leaving for a moment the ladies at their cultural talks, Akita went for a walk with Kay, looking for some clues on how to get moving in this faraway place. He’d hoped to reach Egypt and the Suez Canal to get the ladies back to Europe, but obviously the single-use strange iceberg-ship was planned for Africa, and not much further.

    Kay always had most puzzling associations to bring up in their conversations. “Well,” he’d say “besides all these blue bulls isn’t it funny that the zebras are a variety of indigo’s…”

    “You’re a funny dog”, Akita told him “what is that supposed to mean?”
    “Obviously it’s an analogy…”
    “A bit too bloody subtle” Akita was starting to talk awfully like the ladies…
    “Zebras are symbols for a people who have a funny way of blending in… Or actually to not blend in. They’re symbols of the weirdos of your societies. Affectionately said, of course. I do consider you and your girlfriends a bit on the weirdo side by the way…”
    “Well, that’s nice… I suppose?”
    “It’s all symbols, and it’s dream-time, so pay attention dear one.”
    “If you say so” Akita said with a shrug
    “It is not uncommon to find in dream interpretation books some funny sentences like

    Dreaming of zebras running fast indicates you are interested in fleeting enterprises. If you dream of a wild zebra in its native environment, you might try a pursuit that could bring unsatisfactory results. Beware of those with multicolored stripes.The Everything Dreams Book

    “Now,” Kay was continuing his near-monologue as they were still walking “what is that supposed to mean; if that were a dream you were dreaming, would you use that one-fits-all approach to interpret that zebra dream?”
    “Who cares, really, it’s not as if I’m dreaming anyway…”
    “Of course, you’d know better; but anyway, that brings me to the multicoloured zebras. There are children who have started some years ago to manifest en masse on this planet with different views, a wildly different approach on life. People around your world have started to label them “indigos”, another shade of blue if you will. I wouldn’t be so circumspect in my dealing with funny coloured animals, if I were you…”
    “I’ll be damned if I understood a word of what you just said… Perhaps you’re right and I’m dreaming after all…”
    “You can say that again.”

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #1284

    Bronkel was stern as ever, yet you could feel in his eyes that he was troubled.

    — “What? That’s roobish, isn’t it?”
    — “No! Elizabeth! Not at all! It’s your best book in years! Poople will want more!”
    — “Well, we’ll see… For now, I think my moose needs some rest”

    Her detox had done her great. Her beautifool violet eyes weren’t as bloodshot as before, and she could even see some of her hair grow back in places. Elizabeth in some surge of energy had collected all the bits written here and there, loose paper flying at times with some missing (perhaps used during her poohnuts hazes to light fires in the office).
    Some of these paper she wasn’t even sure were hers, or writing attempts by Finnley, but she didn’t care; they were all so funny and interesting.

    For instance, she wasn’t too soore that she’d have Veranassasss —whatever her bloody name was— go off with the pilot of the plane, but that sounded nice for her. So she’d used that part too.

    Of course, the Spanish couple, Paqui and Jose had reemerged at the boulder moving party after a long trip in the underground space-traveling tunnels. Leo and Bea were not so glad they’d reappeared so early, but had found it was time to move on, and continue their quest for more bizarre and entertaining artifacts. And they wanted to go to Morocco anyway, in this gorgeous blue city…
    Young Becky decided she wanted to go abroad to travel the world. “And study too” had said Dan who wasn’t as shifty as Dory, a thing for which she thanked heavens profusely every day.

    Sharon, Gloria and Mavis after some more bizarre adventures among the Masai tribes finally found their way back home, while Akita continued his explorations of this strange shifting world of the 21st century.

    Even the bizarre animals stories in the ZOO she’d kept. They’d even found Arky the Aardvark. He had been accidentally buried under Oligan the Oliphant’s pile of poop. The poor Oliphant had suffered from an excess of mangoes in his diet, and Arky was so eager to collect poop for his garden of flowers that he hadn’t noticed the harbingers of it.
    Pawanie the lady Panda and Barry the White Bear had since then decided to take care of the little Aardvark, and provide it with their own poop to fertilize the flower garden. Theirs was a garden to behold, with the most beautiful flowers to be seen in miles. Attracting creatures from all over the place.

    There were a few points Elizabeth had left deliberately unanswered; the mad doctor, who was probably still alive somewhere, and most important of all… if, after all this children bearing with Sean, Becky ended up with Sam or not.
    One thing was sure though, they were all moving to the City. The sooner the better.

    in Reply To: The Eights’ Shift, Stories #2179

    The scene was recreated, the characters had not disappeared… They were only shifting.

    The cloud puffed words out:

    “mouse escape sort library getting silly
    finally play gloria added sometimes coon
    speak skull try mongoose open later read
    otherwise mad”

    Note to self: premature shifting can be traumatic.

    in Reply To: The Eights’ Shift, Stories #2216

    Sha and Glo were in bad shape.
    He was concerned that the lack of moisture in the air was the cause for their demise.

    Perhaps they longed for the summer’s sun, like everybody else. Gloria was apparently more badly affected than Sharon, her long disheveled hair gone all dry and brown, but he wanted to believe it just meant she was about to flower.

    in Reply To: The Eights’ Shift, Stories #2233

    Harvey cursed when he dropped the bed, which hit the floor with a loud crack.

    Hopefully nobody had heard him! although it was rather unlikely. He particularly didn’t wish to alert the two ladies, his new employers Miss Sharon and Miss Gloria, to his interest in weightlifting. Harvey was working undercover for the World Association Requiring Prompt Eradication of Dreaming ( Dream Order: Newbie), otherwise known as W.A.R.P.E.D. The New Dream Order had spent considerable time and expense training robots to infiltrate bedrooms everywhere on the planet in a concerted effort to wipe out superfluous and unnecessary sleep, which had been the scourge of the planet for generations. The planet had reached crisis point with the abundance of sleep, mainly in the hysteria and confusion that had resulted when a fictional account of The Magical Nightmare, which had been published in the old Reality Times newpaper. It had caused widespread panic as the populace began trying to nap on everything in sight in a frantic attempt to control The Nightmare.

    Harvey had been employed by the two ladies ostensibly as a butler. Conveniently for Harvey, the pair of old slappers had not had the luxury of staff in their hitherto adventurous, albeit common lives, and were blissfully unaware of Harvey’s many improprieties and errors. Whenever Harvey behaved oddly, the two ladies would remark “One simply can’t get the staff these days, my dear”, followed by a bit of thigh slapping and raucous laughter

    in Reply To: The Eights’ Shift, Stories #2234

    Jeeze, the little brats have stopped me from getting me beauty sleep looking for the darn eggletons! Shar was seating outside sipping her cup of tea while conversing with her old friend Glor.

    I was about to tell you the same Shar!… i need my beauty kip. Yer niece and nephew… Holly Molly…

    Niece and nephew… what you on about? The nephewer the merrier if you ask me

    As if we not got enough with them prescription drugs from the bathroom cabinet stopping us from sleeping!

    Want to see them comin’ near our beds those!

    Oh no, not our beds! Glor recoiled in horror.

    Stupid drugs… Better for ‘em not come close when I’m ‘ere, or we’ll have to learn how to sleep standing!

    Wouldn’t like to see your hump sleeping standing!

    Not hump,… haunch, silly! Wouldn’t be so good anyway covered with blankets… Shar lost her trail of thought in remembrance of her past bedroom encounters.

    A sudden crack in the nearby potting shed raised the ample bottom of the one named Glor in alarm.

    in Reply To: The Eights’ Shift, Stories #2235

    “Uh Oh. I think Gustav’s got his communication centre jammed again. Bloody ‘ell” exclaimed Gloria. “Any idea how to fix it?”

    “Well, I always fix things by giving them a good slap, Glor.” replied Sharon. “The telly, the keyboard, anything really, seems to do the trick, just shake him a bit and give him a good wack.”

    in Reply To: The Eights’ Shift, Stories #2240

    Lavender was not really sure she understood what Harvey was talking about.

    Poor thing. Does he feel like a frog with no sense of purpose? she wondered. The injury to his nose had been devastating of course, yet Lavender firmly believed that there was purpose to all things.

    If you don’t believe that, then the whole system falls down, she had said to Harvey, in her sympathetic AND adorable voice.

    What system is that? asked Harvey gloomily, wishing he had a voice like Lavenders. Since the accident there had been a distinct nasal twang to his voice. He thought miserably of how quickly W.A.R.P.E.D. had released him from his contract following a complaint from Sha and Glor after he had dropped the four poster bed. The additional weight of dear Lavender had just been a little too much, even for HIS nose. Not only that, he had he lost his weightlifting vocation and his good looks were also severely compromised. The surgeons had not been overly optimistic that his nose would ever completely recover.

    well you weren’t really THAT good looking, said the softly voiced Lavender, hoping to cheer Harvey up.

    in Reply To: The Eights’ Shift, Stories #2300

    Sha and Glo were looking at the Aerial Pond of Cloud Fishes in their blobby glowing spectral form.

    “A shame we’re dead… That school of fish is sure somethin’”
    “You’re thinking what I’m thinking Shar?”
    “Well, of course; we’re dead and psychic, bloody hell Glor!”

    Glor was glad that she was dead sometimes, and this was such a time. She’d found Sharon’s usual rude rebuking was far easier to handle in that state.

    “Well, I would love to dive in that pool too, like in that documentary…”
    “Exactamundo! Have the school of fishes eat dead skin and give it back its young fresh and peachy glow.”

    “I think we better find some quick way to get back in Shar…”
    “Not to bloody worry Glor, it already looks like our subliminal sex enticements have worked very well; would be a shame no one would get preggers with all that fornication going around!”
    “I’m starting to wonder what it would be like if that’s the nine-titted alien going first though… I’m told their pregnancy is quicker than human’s…”

    in Reply To: The Eights’ Shift, Stories #2417

    “Now you’ve gorn and done it! They’ll all know that Shar is really one of ‘them that shan’t be joked about’!” exclaimed Mavis.

    “What the fuck are you on about, our Mavis?” asked Gloria. “You mean the Shards what started off as Windows? Is our Sha one of them Shards then, what’s doing them chemtrails?”

    Mavis gasped in horror. “You mustn’t talk about the Shards like that” she whispered, looking nervously behind her.

    “I happen to know that this is the Lupin Express” replied Gloria, who was transitioning strongly.

    in Reply To: The Eights’ Shift, Stories #2418

    “You know, I could sit on a beach til the end of time” Shar remarked, letting the sand run through her fingers as they watched the sun go down over the sea, “and I’d never really understand how we started off as Sand ~ A Shard is nothing like Sand. Window, yes, I can see how a Shard came from Window, that makes sense ~ but SAND?….”

    in Reply To: The Eights’ Shift, Stories #2419

    “Cor blimey, Shar. That bloody course did bloody wonders for your speaking. Proper high class you sound! And all bloody philosophic like too! Sand eh? Who’d of bloody thought”

    Glor gazed at her friend in stunned wonderment.

    in Reply To: The Eights’ Shift, Stories #2420

    “There is one man to whom I am indebted,” said Shar, with a faraway look in her eyes.

    “Blimey, who’s that then Shar?”

    “Enric Lemoon is his name. One day he said words to me I will never forget, and at that moment, I knew that the most important thing in the world was that I learn to speak like him.”

    “Oh you do tell a good story, Shar. Go on then! I am all goggle eared. What’d that Enric chappy say to you?”

    “He said, the grumpy old cat must be white of old age by now.

    “Cor!” said Mavis in awe. “Bloody marvelous! Was it a code? You know, one of them brain teasers like?”

    Shar looked at Mavis pityingly and shook her head. “It was poetry, Mavis. Poetry.”

    in Reply To: The Eights’ Shift, Stories #2422

    “Oooh, poetry! I likes poetry and all, our Sha” replied Mavis. “There once was a grumpy old cat…”

    Sharon groaned.

    in Reply To: Strings of Nines #2510

    In the back of the garden, forgotten by the children, lying unsuspectingly still in that place lost between the pine trees leaning against the wall separating the garden from the nearby graveyard was a lost chocolate egg wrapped in lemon chiffon coloured wrapping, its topmost part almost flattened as the toil of the sun had started to melt the delicacy.

    It started to jump… and slowly crack open.

    in Reply To: Strings of Nines #2511

    “Jeeze, the little brats have almost ruined all our naggin plants looking for the darn eggletons!” Shar was seating outside sipping her cup of tea while conversing with her old friend Glor.
    “I was about to tell you the same Shar!… Yer niece and nephew… Holly Molly…”
    “Niece and nephew… The nephewer the merrier if you ask me”
    “As if we not got enough with the does from the forest comin’ for food in our plantations!”
    “Want to see them comin’ near our crops those!”
    “Oh no, not our crops!” Glor recoiled in horror.
    “Stupid does… Better for ‘em not come close when I’m ‘ere, or we’ll have to learn how to cook haunch!”
    “Wouldn’t have your hump for dinner!”
    “Not hump,… haunch, silly! Wouldn’t be so good anyway stuffed with lead pellets…” Shar lost her trail of thought in remembrance of her past hunting skills.

    A sudden crack in the nearby potting shed raised the ample bottom of the one named Glor in alarm.

    in Reply To: Strings of Nines #2515

    Gustav cursed when he dropped the watermelon, which hit the potting shed floor with a loud crack.

    Hopefully nobody had heard him. He particularly didn’t wish to alert the two ladies, his new employers Miss Sharon and Miss Gloria, to his interest in agriculture. Gustav Burgeon was working undercover for the World Association To Eradicate Redundant Material (Escarole Leaf Order: Newbie), otherwise known as W.A.T.E.R.M.E.L.O.N. The New Leaf Order had spent considerable time and expense training robots to infiltrate agricultural enterprises, cottage gardens, and allotments in a concerted effort to wipe out superfluous and unnecesary edible plant items, which had been the scourge of the planet for generations. The planet had reached crisis point with the abundance of foodstuff, mainly in the hysteria and confusion that had resulted when a fictional account of The Mythical Nutrients had been published in the old Reality Times newspaper. It had caused widespread panic as the populace began eating everything in sight in a frantic attempt to control The Nutrients.

    Gustav had been employed by the two ladies ostensibly as a butler. Conveniently for Gustav, the pair of old slappers had not had the luxury of staff in their hitherto adventurous, albeit common lives, and were blissfully unaware of Gustav’s many improprieties and errors. Whenever Gustav behaved oddly, the two ladies would remark “One simply can’t get the staff these days, my dear”, followed by a bit of thigh slapping and raucous laughter.

    in Reply To: Strings of Nines #2571

    Glor…”
    “What dear?”
    Glor, ain’t you bored silly in that cottage?”
    “Well Sha, now that our Joe and ‘arry are gone fishin’ all day… and thinking of our glorious days on that island…”
    “Tell no more! I was thinking of that too… Would be good to have another beauty treatment for sure…”
    “Any idea where that doctor might be now Shar?”
    “As a matter of fact, I do…”
    “You’re kidding me Shar!”
    “I’ve got a cousin in Spain, ya know…”
    “Who? Barb?”
    “Yeah, Barbie. I’ve got news from her from time to time, when she’s squatting in those tourists houses in Spain while they’re empty in the low season.”
    “And what? Tell me all, I’m dying Shar!”
    “I’ll tell you if you bloddy stop interrupting! Now, last week, she mentioned she heard from a woman in Spain that they saw a doctor during a silly nut-age conference, he was talking of rejuvenating cures, and she even got a sample.”
    “A sample?”
    “Yeah, a bloody sample. She told me those silly twats gave them to their dogs! Can you believe it Glor’?”
    “The silly buggers! Throwing away precious reejoo-whatever samples!”
    “Anyway, the doctor was speaking with whales too. Every year he told them (Barbie told me) going upside down in the sea to upgrade his whale speech.”
    “Whale speech you say Shar…”
    “Kind of rings a bell init?”
    “Hell yeah! I remember Vessie told us about those funny swimming suits for the Doctor. Could be him!”
    “You know what?”
    “What Shar?”
    “I’m having a funny brainwave now… I’m thinking we need some vacation in Spain…”
    “And leave Gustav to cook the bloody fish for the boys ! You’re brilliant Shar!”

    in Reply To: Strings of Nines #2574

    “And leave the boys to Gustav! You’re brilliant Shar!”

    WHAT bloody boys, Gloria?” Sharon replied, scratching her head.

    “Well you introduced them” Interrupted Godfrey.

    To which Ann replied: :yahoo_wasntme:

    “I can’t believe” laughed Sharon “That I forgot all about me ‘usband!”

    “I take that back Godfrey” Ann was always willing to admit when she was wrong. “I did introduce them, and I’d forgotten all about them.”

    Godfrey sneezed, and disappeared from view.

    “So rude the way he just blinks off like that” Ann muttered.

    in Reply To: Strings of Nines #2607

    It all came as a surprise to them. At first, they didn’t want to believe the “others” telling them they were dead. Glor went there first, then Shar shortly after. Apparently some side effects of the beauty treatments they’d taken during their trip in the mysterious island of Tikfijikoo.
    :ghost: :ghost: They started to believe it when they witnessed their own burial ceremonies. Was a bit strange at first, but soon they couldn’t help but gossip about their friends outfits and hairdos. Then all of a sudden, it was funny! They could go anywhere in the blink of an eye, spy on everyone, and get a good laugh together —and not with just any bloody disincarnate ascended being.

    Shar?
    — What Glor?
    — What we’re going to do now?
    — I think whatever they said about it, I quite liked the island. Perhaps we can pop-in there, have a good party with lemurs, especially now that everybody’s been deserting it.
    — Oh yes, and let’s get find that doctor, scare him outta his wits force him make beauty treatments for us!
    — Now that’s talking lady! :yahoo_skull:

    in Reply To: Strings of Nines #2624

    The newly deceased Shar and Gor

    “Shouldn’t he say something less grim you think?”
    “I definitely agree my dear Shar
    “Something like in-ceased, or up-ceased… We’re ascended after all!”
    “I’m not so sure it sounds better, but…”

    Well, them being up-ceased, involved a new challenge for the writer(s) of this story, as the two blusterously boisterous ladies were in a desperate move to attempt sending communication to the objective world —officially to discover the extent of their influence. Their new-found access to the collective subconscious made them all the more a trouble for the writer(s).

    Anyway, as we speak, Shar and Glor, were… or are actually trying to influence some characters and hence co-authors of this work of fiction to test their own ability to manipulate some of these individuals.

    So far the extent of their experiments had fared tepid results.

    “OK. Let’s try with these two. I’m beaming something down to them!”

    To which, moments and some non-physical sweating on Glor’s brow later, one of the two subjects of this experiment (the blond one) blurted out without knowing from where it came: “Spiggot on the spike freak, Lingenburg Dash

    “What the hell was that Glor?”
    “Good Lord, I don’t have any idea!”
    “What was it supposed to be then!?”
    “I just beamed them ‘Speaking now without mike – leap if you ain’t dead’!”
    “Good grief… Those two might as well be hopeless…”

    Of course, unbeknown to them, in other potential realities, what she really beamed to them was entirely different; something like ‘Speaking now – dead to the living – leap and bound if you catch’… Subsequently, Ann’s catch was in fact an indication of great disposition to tune into more than one probabilities at a time, the benefits of which were lost to the poor dabbling souls.

    But this point notwithstanding, as they were speaking, another potential just appeared at the horizon. A woman named Yoland, with an improbable ability to express strings of thoughts inspired from above (anywhere that ‘above’ might be) without much distortion.

    “Have to tread carefully with that one, Glor
    “Yes, I reckon dear…”
    “We could even manage to fully channel her body, she seems a perfect candidate!” Sharon would have rubbed her hands with glee if she’d had hands still.
    “Innit a bore though that she would ask for such grand truths…”
    “Not to worry, we’ll invent them as we walk. I’ve even got an idea for session one with her: the great cluster of Mamarose of energy essential oils.”

    in Reply To: Strings of Nines #2626

    Yoland awoke feeling disgruntled. The uncomfortable dreams of feeling left out, left alone and bored beyone endurance lingered throughout the morning. In a peculiar melding of dream and reality, Dan had woken her requesting her assistance in his preparations for a days outing, which didn’t include Yoland. The dream details were already vague, but the feeling was strong, the feeling of being bored and alone ~ wasted somehow, as if all her lust for life was withering away on a back burner, evaporating, as she mooched through her days, accomplishing little (or so it seemed), endlessly frustrated with the clutter and disorganization that was her world, yearning for the life, LIFE that was full of LIFE, that she used to have. What had happened to her sense of adventure? Where had all her fun friends gone?

    “Eh Sha, emergency transmission required ‘ere pronto!” Gloria shouted to Sharon. “Yoland needs some inspiration, toot sweet, get yer arse in gear!”

    “Oh bloody ‘ell, Glor! Not a-bloody-gain! Not ‘er, she never bloody listens anyway, that one!” replied Sharon, disgruntled. “This isn’t as easy as I ‘spected it to be, getting the messages through, is it?”

    “Well, why don’t you look on it as a challenge?”

    “Pfft, more like ‘ard bloody work, if you ask me.”

    “Eh, you daft tart, you’re channeling HER! You’re sposed to be sending HER some words of inspiration, not the other bloody way round!” Gloria exclaimed. “Beats me how you ever got your ascension pass, how you got through I’ll never know.”

    “Oh they let any Tom Dick or Harry in these days, Glor, they relaxed the rules you know, well did away with the rules, and what happens when you do away with the rules? Floundering, that’s bloody what. Floundering.”

    “Is that a fish sync?”

    in Reply To: Strings of Nines #2628

    “There!” announced Sharon triumphantly. “‘Ow was that, then?”

    “‘Ow was what, Sha?” asked Gloria, frowning.

    “I inspired ‘er, I got the message through!”

    “That aint proper inspired channeling, you daft cow, that’s nonsense! Yeah, you got a message through, but talk about distortion! Blimey, Sha, that aint enlightened channeling, that’s just more rubbish!” Gloria said, disparagingly.

    “I ‘ate to tell you this, our Glor, but it’s YOU what aint enlightened. That was me new Distraction Tactics, and if I do say so myself, it worked a treat.”

    “Distraction Tactics? Aint she scattered enough already? It’s direction and focus what she wants, not more blimmen distractions!”

    “You just aint getting it, are you, our Glor?” Sharon replied. “Answer me this, you enlightened tart, how’s she supposed to find any focus or direction if she’s pushing her energy in a hundred directions at once looking for meaning? Wait a minute, I tripped meself up there,” Sharon corrected herself, “What I meant to say was, why would she need a direction in the first place? She’s going where she’s going, and that’s direction enough.”

    “Well you answer me this then, if the direction she’s going in is enough, why did she wake up disgruntled?” Gloria retorted, adding “Rude tart” under her breath.

    “I ‘eard that!”

    “Well? What’s yer answer to that then, eh?”

    “‘Ang on a minute, lemme see if I can channel God’s Flounder fer some answers.” replied Sharon, closing her eyes, and starting to breathe noisily and purposefully.

    “Oh fer Gawds sake, Sha, not that bloody breathing again. We all knows ‘ow to breathe already, honestly, it’s as if breathing’s just been invented or something. And not only that” she added “You’re dead, why are you breathing anyway?”

    “Eh, good point, our Glor” said Sharon opening her eyes. “I’m wondering now if the dead are supposed to channel for answers, aren’t we supposed to HAVE all the answers?” Sharon was confused.

    “Well I dunno about HAVING all the answers, Sha, but we’re supposed to be able to access them, aren’t we? Then pass ‘em on to the living ~ those what’ll listen, that is.”

    “I think we’re making a mistake here, Gloria, but I can’t put my finger on it. Who’s our Oversoul anyway? Aint they supposed to be guiding us here?”

    “I think we’re both focuses of the Great Flounder, our Sha.”

    “Oh blimey” her freind replied. “P’raps we aint been dead long enough yet, to know what we’re doing, like.”

    “How can you be ‘long enough’ if there aint no time anyway, that’s what I want to know.”

    “Well there’s one thing I do know about being dead” said Sharon, brightening up, “We can ‘think’ ourselves anywhere at all. So whatddya say we go somewhere else and forget all this floundering?”

    “Bloody good idea, where shall we go?”

    “Oh dear, unlimited choices are so difficult, aren’t they? I don’t know where I want to go!”

    “Follow me then, Sha!” Gloria suggested, and in an instant the pair of them were standing in a field in Dyffryn .

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