h a l f b a k e r yPoint of hors d'oevre
add, search, annotate, link, view, overview, recent, by name, random
news, help, about, links, report a problem
browse anonymously,
or get an account
and write.
register,
|
|
|
Now the description is meaningless since the annotations
explain everything. Here are some tips/rules:
- Try to make a coherent story using characters and
themes introduced by your predecessors
- Re-read from the
beginning each time. It's very likely (encouraged)
that someone prior
to you edited their annotation that
will affect yours. I've been guilty of this myself - not
reading carefully. So keep in sync as much as you
can.
- Don't delete your annotation even if you are out of
ideas, you'll lose your "leverage point" to influence the
story in the future. You'll regret it later (I did)
- The titles below are more of a summary of what has
been happening .. not a direction I'm suggesting you
take the story, actually quite the opposite: major
shakeups are encouraged. Especially if you edit an
annotation that's in the middle and the story still holds
together.
- Don't feel a pressure to retroactively sync your
annotations
to keep up with the latest changes. If you have an idea,
do it, but if not just leave it, there is no harm done.
Others will
figure out how to fit your stuff in - even if they have to
think really really hard. Just make sure that
at the time you first post, it makes sense.
Currently .. as of Sep 23 - the annotations on the right
tell
an exciting story titled:
"The Death List"
previously: "The Mystery of the Doorbell Salesman"
previously: "The Great List Conspiracy"
previously: "The execution of ixnaum"
previously: "Execution of frankenstein"
previously: "The execution of little red riding hood"
previously: "little red riding hood tries her luck at
innovative collaborative annotations"
Inspired by:
Edit_20your_20last_...20look_20rediculous
[ixnaum, Sep 22 2010]
archive of old !York MC story jigsaw game
http://www.dunx.org...up=&before=334&end=
in this example, the annotations were submitted in random order. [prufrax, Sep 23 2010]
Collaborative Poetry
Collaborative_20Poetry
[Jinbish, Sep 23 2010]
Definition of [ coherent ]
http://www.merriam-...dictionary/coherent
" I do not think that word means what you think it means..." [normzone, Feb 17 2015]
" The Eventide has a real sparkle "...
http://www.soundons...=463100&Main=448545
[normzone, Feb 19 2015]
The nearest airport to Santa's workshop...
http://www.airliner.../read.main/1275812/
[normzone, Mar 09 2016]
Familiar territory from 2002
The_20Susen_20Saga
[normzone, Nov 08 2017]
[link]
|
| |
There were evil people in the world. People that
needed to be purged. The doorbell salesman and
ixnaum began |
|
| |
to make a list and got [m-f-d]ed |
|
| |
themselves before completing it. M-F-D stood for
marked for
death. It was the terminology used by the evil
tyrant ruler for killing all those who broke her
rules. Rarely it was reffered to as "marked for
deletion" by few people
using a translation that is ancient, obsolete and
now mostly considered incorrect.
Ixnaum was apprehended while purchasing more
paper for the list. But the doorbell
salesman was still on the loose aided by his
friends: Mama bear, Santa, Elf, Goldilocks and
Blitzen
Later that afternoon the executioner approached
Ixnaum with a large
thunderbolt
staff in hand. When suddenly two voices came
out
from the crowd. The the first shout was
nonsense;
an almost unintelligible scream of someone who
appears to be local crazyman ... but legend says
that
if you decipher his words,
you will unlock the wisdom of an ancient
prophecy.
He shouted: |
|
| |
Oh god. What have I done? Sorry, Jutta. |
|
| |
for I am the creator of this monster, Cried
MaxwellBuchanan as the thunderbolt was raised
ready
to strike.
See ... he did it! It
was his fault! He confessed to it! |
|
| |
Said [ixnaum], seeking to divert [jutta]'s Olympian
thunderbolt towards [MaxwellBuchannan]. Needlessly, since
it's a good idea -- stands on its own, interesting to think
about and perhaps to discuss. It shouldn't be deleted
because of what people do in the anno thread. |
|
| |
Undeterred by [mouseposture]'s conciliatory annotation,
[ixnaum] realized that "people" is about 50% [ixnaum], and
attempted to throw [MaxwellBuchannan] under the bus. |
|
| |
It was the 3 o'clock bus. Right on time. With a
quick leap, ixnaum escaped his bonds grabbed
MaxwellBuchanan and held him down as the bus
approached. "You will pay for this!" |
|
| |
Unfortunately the bus stop was 50 meters ahead
of the scuffle. That's where the bus came to a
gentle stop and passengers got out. One of them
was a tall mysterious man. He attracted Jutta's
gaze - she recognized him immediately. |
|
| |
(finger on a button - channel changes. Lecturer intones:) |
|
| |
The tall mysterious man was trouble. Stigmergic trouble, which can be defined as follows: |
|
| |
A mechanism of indirect coordination between agents or actions. The principle is that the trace left in the environment by an action stimulates the performance of a next action, by the same or a different agent. |
|
| |
who said "Look, when you press this button, a voice says [marked-for-deletion] call for list!". |
|
| |
On the table in the kitchen, the untouched bowl of salty porridge began to look rather cold & unappetising. |
|
| |
Whilst Mama Bear embroidered on the new napkins the letters m-f-d... |
|
| |
Which part of "The [marked-for-deletion] rules are
relaxed below Halfbakery:" did you guys not
understand?" she snarled, snatching the
embroidered napkin and waving it for a moment
like
a torero's muleta, then tossing it behind the
couch
where it-- |
|
| |
[But seriously, I don't think the site software does
well on long games - but inventing something and
illustrating it below Halfbakery: Game should be
expected & tolerable. No?] |
|
| |
...lay until the cleaning crew came by the following week. An enthusiastic new hire on his hands and knees, his buns in the air, fished it out and stuck it in his pocket. |
|
| |
That night, while cleaning out his pockets, he pondered the cryptic script. A couple of synapses fired and he began sketching. |
|
| |
That night, Monogram Future Designs was born. The company went through the two-men-in-a-garage stage, caught the eye of an investor, prospered and eventually went public. |
|
| |
But the man who started it all was cut out of the deal during the company's ascent to the top of the cutthroat monogram business, and one night in a rage of custard and scotch he torched the premises. |
|
| |
Of course he was caught, tried on a charge of arson, and convicted. An eclectic judge fond of alternative sentences ordered that his brain be amended, such that for the rest of his life he would live outside the seemingly orderly story that makes up the lives of many, but not all of us. |
|
| |
His mind was modified such that interludes of confusion periodically took hold of him, especially any time he became excited. The intention was to prevent him from planning and executing other criminal acts. He would hear voices crying " List !" and " M ! F ! D ! " and other confusions. |
|
| |
He could still remember the night of the fire - it raged all night despite the efforts of 3 fire companies. In the morning, the plant lay in ruins... |
|
| |
"Didn't think much of that," said Blitzen as he wandered off to find more beer... |
|
| |
The End.
The End.
These words echoed through the house. But their
source was impossible to pin down. As if a ghost
had
whispered them. It wasn't the first time this has
happened. Santa and Mama bear have been
hearing these voices for the last 2 weeks. Perhaps
it had something to do with that ancient
prophecy.
Blitzen didn't believe in ghosts. He was a simple
minded creature - hired solely for his killing
abilities - he picked up a
can
of beer and opened it with his hoof. He then
turned on his TV set and immersed himself in the
intro to his favorite TV program .... |
|
| |
..or not. Meanwhile, Maxwell Buchanan scanned the
previous annotations. "//marked-for-deletion] rules are
relaxed below Halfbakery:// !" he muttered to himself.
"Egads!" he continued, "this means I can post my 'let's all
make lists of ideas for genetically modified flavours like I
saw in that movie' idea, after all!!!" |
|
| |
He paused, undecided as to whether there should be a
period after his final close-quotes, or whether the
exclamation mark inside the quotes counted. "To heck
with it!", he euphemized, and withdrew another cheroot
from the bell-jar on the harpsichord. |
|
| |
He was barely halfway through lighting it when,
improbably... |
|
| |
he realized that he did not smoke. |
|
| |
Elsewhere, Goldilocks put down the power saw and removed her safety goggles and hearing protection. The saw cut VERY well, so one had to stay focused, and the damn thing was so loud you had to wear headphones. |
|
| |
She brushed sawdust from her blouse and put the piece on the stack of other pieces she'd already cut. Some glue, clamps, dowels, rope, staples, nails and prayer and her unshreddable wooden door would be finished. |
|
| |
She flinched when she heard the saw motor start up, louder now without the hearing protection. The power cord was very long, and her path was blocked by piles of cut wood (cut to commercial) |
|
| |
"What are the odds of that?" he rhetoricated. |
|
| |
Events such as this only served to distract from his work on the door shredding machine. Insufficient operator safeguards occasionally let bystanders become involved in the process. |
|
| |
He spun the dial unlocking the vault housing the door shredding machine, prepared for another frustrating session |
|
| |
When he realized there was no need.
His partner was faster on the draw and shredded
the door before MaxwelBuchanan had a chance to
do the job himself. MaxwellBuchanan holstered
his weapon and tipped his
hat to his gun slinging partner.
An nervous answer came from behind a tiny corner
of the
shredded door still intact: "It's me. The
doorbell salesman."
|
|
| |
The doorbell salesman winked frantically, whispering "Your friend with the weapon? Derringerrailgun or whatever it is? Please call him off. |
|
| |
I had to get off the 3 o'clock bus - there were two men scuffling in the street 54.68 yards ahead in it's path. I saw the door labeled INSUFFICIENT OPERATOR SAFEGUARD - VAULT and just walked in. |
|
| |
I desperately need the loan of your limo driver - I have a date with [Jutta]". |
|
| |
"Oh, and how did you resolve your constipation? " |
|
| |
"but figs are my favorite fruit!" she cried, as she waited patiently for the man of her dreams... |
|
| |
who was unavailable at that moment as he was on
set, filming an encore series of Magnum P.I. in
Hawai'i after having managed to get the original cast
back together... |
|
| |
Who? Yes, Mr. Who Smith.
On the other hand the man of her dream was more
than available. |
|
| |
The teapot, on the other hand, was banking on its all
new Holographic Physical Displacement Illusion
Software & Pre-emptive Locality Adjustment
Controlled Experiment (HoPDISPLACE) to avoid the
hedgehog's dastardly plan. |
|
| |
BEGIN SEALED REPORT: BURN BEFORE READING |
|
| |
Agent code names [TEAPOT] and [HEDGEHOG] have demonstrated instabilities, and are to be viewed as compromised. No further communications are authorized, and termination with extreme prejudice is recommended. |
|
| |
END SEALED REPORT: BURN BEFORE READING |
|
| |
Not being one to waste time, long ago [jutta] had given up waiting for her date to show up. She had no way of knowing that he'd |
|
| |
fallen into time-travel paradox do-loop thingy, where there were evil people in the world. People that needed to be purged. The do-loop made certain they were. The doorbell salesman and ixnaum began |
|
| |
looking at the anti - calendar for clues. |
|
| |
" ANTI - JAN, ANTI - FEB, ANTI - MAR, ANTI - APR - no, nothing yet. What about ANTI - MAY, ANTI - JUN, ANTI - JUL, ANTI - AUG - |
|
| |
Aha! There it is! ANTI - SEPT " |
|
| |
..ic tank engineer Bob Floater looked up from his
coffee as the leggy brunette made her entrance |
|
| |
ing sashay into the room. She looked too good to be true with her soft smouldering eyes, and a wiggle exquisite enough to make the cream jump out of the coffee cup. |
|
| |
Andrea didn't even register Bob's presence. Her mind was too involved with the problem of posting a Halfbakery idea where the annos had witty and incisive replies while having a concurrent running story thread. |
|
| |
oscope held firmly in his hand, he thrust it appreh |
|
| |
...htty long way into the |
|
| |
wn shoes. Bob loved those shoes, envied her those shoes. |
|
| |
When he thought Andrea was at work and he was home alone, Bob would force his feet into those small, perfect, brown shoes. |
|
| |
He would tiptoe around the penthouse, careful not to break down the heels, moaning quietly as the burnt sienna flats crimped his toes. |
|
| |
ty-oes. The podiatrist said walking on cereal was
good for his corns. |
|
| |
futures. It was the most ridiculous financial advice he had ever received, but the podiatrist had clued him to Microsoft, way back when. And the imminent bubble burst date of the dot.com boom. And to the S&L crash. |
|
| |
He and Andrea would not be here, in the penthouse, if he had ignored the podiatrist's counsels regarding selling his Radio Shack shares at the peak and buying that F - 35 subcomponent manufacturing plant, the one that made Crashable Aircraft. |
|
| |
And, oh shit. There was Andrea, big as life. And him in her shoes. Perhaps she wouldn't notice. |
|
| |
So around, and around he went. He could smell the Toesty-Os. |
|
| |
emite Sam had burnt, when he was a houseguest. Come to think of it, the sofa smelled too |
|
| |
strongly of vinegar. The upstairs maid had given Sam a shellacking and used strong cleaners in the aftermath |
|
| |
ematics. Those arithmetic wind-down sessions were
very relaxing, but |
|
| |
abuse of the comment system [--] |
|
| |
ly overweight, he had nevertheless found a pair of
trunks that fitted. Pausing only to collect his
deerstalker, he |
|
| |
mulled for a moment..."Why do I collect deerstalkers? It could have been ball caps, or fedoras, but for some reason it's deerstalkers that do |
|
| |
job. Where's my soul mate Andrea...I wonder. She's quite
fond of Deerstalkers, though I had to tell what they were
once a long time |
|
| |
ago. Before this idea was posted. Before the Halfbakery crash. Before owning a radio |
|
| |
station was one of the chief concerns of the
Environmentalist wing of the Dyslexia Society. Their
fundraiser to buy an acre of Amazonian Rainfoster
had been a dig pissabointment, but they |
|
| |
cheered up when they learned that Amazonian RainFoster was sold by either the can, bottle, or shares (if you were purchasing stock). |
|
| |
The acre they'd purchased contained herbs critical to the RainFoster process, and the carefully controlled growth of these herbs by professional to |
|
| |
and disconcerts in equal measure. After the
incendiary |
|
| |
...can being one of the largest mining companies in the world; |
|
| |
oscopy is generally less painful than a full : oscopy,
but should nevertheless not be taken |
|
| |
alongs she participated in as a child always praised
them so |
|
| |
she grew up believing that the 1980's calculator manufacturers, based on the podiatrist's advice, were good investments. And the deerstalkers... |
|
| |
The sex change and memory erase had taken a toll, and her behavior had been rather erratic for a while. |
|
| |
She'd spent countless barefoot hours in the forest, stalking the wild deer, sure that one day she would get close enough to grab one. She'd never really worked out what she would do with it then, but in her fantasies she and the deer arrived back at the temple, and everyone could see she was a true deer stalker. |
|
| |
When [blissmiss], near falling over with laughter, had explained what a deerstalker really was, Andrea had cried for days. |
|
| |
Although she did still retain fond memories of the theremin music in the calculator collector ceremonies . |
|
| |
She added a quick link to the |
|
| |
remins 'R' Us to her online wishlist - her birthday was approaching. Meanwhile a shifty-toothed and eyeless old man crept down |
|
| |
town to the City Zoo, where he stabbed a hippo for impersonating his demeanor. |
|
| |
" Oh god. What have I done? Sorry, Jutta " he cried. |
|
| |
... [normzone] awoke from his nightmare and rolled over in bed, freeing himself from the tender embrace of his fellow Halfbaker, [ |
|
| |
redacted], before plugging in |
|
| |
ner ears of all fifteen of the basset hounds in the house with wax. He couldn't risk letting them hear his |
|
| |
snores, or they would begin howling and wake the neighbors. He had never wanted to own bassets, but the leader of the pack was pretty self sufficient, and ruled the rest of them with an iron paw. |
|
| |
The basset owned several cars, but used only the chauffeur and the Benz to go clubbing. He only had eyes for Lola the |
|
| |
other clubber. Between them, they had the baby
seal industry pretty well sewn |
|
| |
The music he'd been working on had been messing with his mind again. The creative process happened somewhere between his waking mind, and the strange places he dreamed in. |
|
| |
He could hear the neighbor playing his techno again, the bass turned up to un-neighborly levels, the looped lyrics and variants on a catchy tune repeating. |
|
| |
It would be fun to listen to, if it wasn't so |
|
| |
like listening to a fifteen basset surround sound system while shooting a tiger in your pajamas. What he was |
|
| |
thinking was how ridiculous it would be to shoot a tiger. You'd have to go to the zoo to do something like that. He'd read about some crazy guy at the zoo stabbing the recycling bin yesterday - sad, how people break down. |
|
| |
He got the paper and put the kettle on |
|
| |
ly. As he filled a glass from the kitchen tap, a dark, gravelly voice announced "It was late at night and I couldn't sleep - I was thirsty so I went to get a glass of water". |
|
| |
ly wasn't a promising situation |
|
| |
, it was simply an opportunity for dominance in propogating its meager genetic coding forwards in the harsh conditions in which it tried to survive. Life on Urghughhrumph wasn't pretty; most folk in more advanced planets could describe it as nasty, brutish, and short. But all that was about to change with the possibilities that this new stimulus provided, and Grr'rurskzitdmf had it within his |
|
| |
CD collection a rare single by the boy band |
|
| |
On this world, you see, land masses reproduced in much the same we animals do in our world. This opportunity, a potentially timely coupling between recent igneous and early sedimentary, represented |
|
| |
a chance to create the bedrock for the first tube station on Urghughhrumph, or indeed, anywhere in the immediate few light years. Galactic geologists and archeologists everywhere would look upon this as the point where interplanetary transportation really took a |
|
| |
bout two or three generations. However |
|
| |
he'd visited there. But due to his time-shifting device,
each time was something new and different, except for the
tube itself, which curiously stayed the same. In his
previous visit, some of the subway station tiles had fallen
off, leaving nothing but 'C_d__ I_own.' He thought about
visiting his apartment in this century to see what became
of his Mornington Crescent cds, but couldn't risk bumping
into his older self, which is awkward when you haven't
studied your verb tenses for time travelers class notes in
eons. |
|
| |
He'd visited there only once, after making certain his other self was at work. But due to his time-shifting device, each time was something new and different, even the television tube itself, which curiously stayed the same. |
|
| |
In his previous visit, some of his CD collection had been arranged on the carpet to spell out " CAMDEN TUNE '. He thought about visiting his apartment in this century to see what became of his cds, since there was little risk of bumping into his older self, who would be at time traveler class studying verb tenses. |
|
| |
He could hear Kid Beyond doing Wandering Star on somebody's phone. |
|
| |
The song ended and a commercial for |
|
| |
began talking about a new line of suitcases that could change size |
|
| |
- when neglected for a while they would shrink to their original size, crushing the contents. |
|
| |
but the door in his mind stayed firmly shut; until |
|
| |
led fields extended to the horizon, throwing into perspective the unwashed dishes in the sink. |
|
| |
ral!" and, so saying, he fell over |
|
| |
he remembered once his other self had been a vegetarian. But due to his time-shifting device, each time was something new and different, even the spices used, which curiously included dried, ground feathers. |
|
| |
For the most recent of those breakfasts, pomegranate seeds had been arranged on a cutting board, spelling out the word " Barbican ". He thought about visiting his apartment in that century to see what became of his television, since there was little risk of bumping into his alter self, who would be at the clinic by the beach at this time of the day. |
|
| |
It was probably an amino acids or protein issue - he was always complaining about being |
|
| |
There was not much real news these days. It was mostly advertisements and people complaining about other people's choices. |
|
| |
Television was so bad. When soundscapes and pretty colors had superceded telling tales and real reporting, he'd taken his television and set it out by the curb. He did miss one show, |
|
| |
"The HalfBakery." It was one of the new genre of Unreality
Television shows which had recently ascended into
popularity for some reason. This one show was at least
marginally tolerable because of the antics of |
|
| |
the rotating cast. [IanTindale] could be relied upon to change his story periodically. Some of the cast provided shifting viewpoints, while still others objected so strongly to their roles that they sat there pouting, only occasionally muttering " It's a clogged up list and it should go " and " Let's all ! " into their microphones. |
|
| |
n't ever explain why he'd built his estate at the top of a mountain.
Meanwhile, far away |
|
| |
[ixnaum] wondered to himself if perhaps he should begin the prequal to this adventure edit: prequel (sigh) |
|
| |
. It was important, you see, if adventures were likely to require some financial backing from sponsors, to get prequalified for them. Otherwise escaping the financial burden of a failed exposition to the frontier often became an adventure in |
|
| |
croyable! Meanwhile, even further away [bigsleep] looked flushed and sticky. He gave some unlikely excuse for his appearance in |
|
| |
orro would appear on. However, the |
|
| |
that seldom rely on structural modelling. All in all,
the design of the Institute for Advanced Engineering
would have benefitted considerably from the
inclusion of lifts or, indeed, of |
|
| |
egotiable staircases. Still, it wasn't as if |
|
| |
best idea to hold a cat in that position for more than |
|
| |
ksgiving dinner. Cats will do anything for more of that
delicious thanksgiving food. In fact |
|
| |
ories up and down the land, discarded cats were
being progressively fattened for their |
|
| |
mael ceremony, also known as cat's pajamas round up.
This is were cats rope and throw mice from the backs of Doberman Pinschers in the great State of |
|
| |
. Having autoclaved the dishes, Bob was washing up the endoscope. Dates? It had seen a few. Bob looked up at the word "coherent" in the idea title, and sighed. |
|
| |
[ixnaum]'s prequel was a great idea. It could address how the evil people in the world came to be. |
|
| |
It would be a tale of innocence, bent and eventually diverted in directions that the author had never intended. Well meaning persons would have their good works subverted. A press of the random button could yield further ideas such as |
|
| |
s whippings were not easy to take, but |
|
| |
[xandram]'s tastes ran to such things, and it would be rude to hold |
|
| |
her body without doing everything possible to satisfy her. Although it was long ago, he had fond memories of their time together, all 24 seconds of it. His wife had never asked, a clear sign that she knew and did not wish to know more. |
|
| |
Ning Ton Crescent was coming into view. |
|
| |
Anything you want to tell us, [norm]? |
|
| |
the radio crackled. The throat mic LED lit when he replied "All clear here, ready to proceed ". |
|
| |
dog walker is going EVA in exactly 23 seconds". But without waiting any longer he exited the air lock and went towards the cliff's edge. |
|
| |
Peering over, he mulled "It's a long way to Tipperary" |
|
| |
A figure emerged from the shadows and quietly said the second part of the passphrase "It's a long way to go". |
|
| |
Unnoticed & unknown, a third figure hidden in the darkness grinned, pushed down on a plunger connected to a long trail of wires & quietly exclaimed, in his best fake-German accent, "Goodbye Piccadilly!". |
|
| |
The explosion blew Agent Piccadilly off his feet and he tumbled over the edge of the Reichenbach Falls. |
|
| |
mith in charge of handing out assignments was fond of obtusely encoding them into crossword puzzles; it was the one way that agents could be certain that the integrity of the assignment was not compromised. Finding no such puzzle either inside or outside the envelope, the figure kept a wary watch on Picadilly's replacement. There was something downright |
|
| |
spooky the way Agent Leicester reminded him of a younger, more attractive Agent Mornington Crescent. His cup of tea had gone cold so he |
|
| |
abi-flavoured stuff just wasn't the same as his usual
cuppa. Acting on impulse, he t |
|
| |
hought this was likely to be his last |
|
| |
opportunity to try to make a coherent story using characters and themes introduced by his predecessors |
|
| |
He always re-read from the beginning each time, though it took him more than 20 seconds. It was very likely (encouraged) that someone prior to him had edited their annotation. |
|
| |
Blitzen didn't believe in ghosts. Agent Picadilly was dead. |
|
| |
Blitzen was a simple minded creature - hired solely for his killing abilities - he picked up a can of beer and opened it with his hoof. He then turned on the TV set he'd found on the curb. |
|
| |
The violent disappearance and presumed death of Agent Picadilly (no body had been located) drove him into a deep mourning. Ton crescent futures fell dramatically in response to the event |
|
| |
exactly the same as Bob's agent id number. It must be a sign, he thought, perhaps one of his 'sleepers' making contact at last. He looked for the details of a rendezvous in the eBay listing. Discreetly, he |
|
| |
changed the spelling of 'prequal' to 'prequel' in dentworth's long forgotten anno, and thought to himself,"I shall sleep better tonight!" |
|
| |
When he contacted the EBay seller by email, the response was confusing. " Which part of " The rules are relaxed " did you guys not understand?" |
|
| |
" I wonder if this is a counter-sign I've not been appraised of, or just some nutter who's made one too many trips to the post office ? " he mused aloud. He thought back to how he'd gotten into this crazy agent business. There had been something on the television, back before it went to the curb, involving cats on dogs roping mice at Anxiety ( in the great state of Texas ). |
|
| |
There was a group of protesters claiming it was cruel to the mice. Some counter-protesters carried signs saying that the dogs were on drugs. The cats wanted the time allowed for the roping extended to 19 seconds. |
|
| |
There was an interruption to the signal, and a woman appeared on the screen, and addressed him by name. |
|
| |
"Grr'rurskzitdmf," she said, in a most unearthly-sounding accent that strained the rr's in the manner of a native of the northern hemisphere of Urghughhrumph, "You must proceed cautiously. The people of this city do not respect inplanterary political geology nearly as much as they should, and our enemies are thick in |
|
| |
layers where they should be thin, and thin in layers where they should be thick. |
|
| |
Let me tell you why you are here. I've watched you, Grr'rurskzitdmf. You have a gift. You do not use your igneous, sedimentary, and metamorphic processes as others do. |
|
| |
The land mass is all around us. It's even here in this cluster. You feel it when you intake raw materials, when you void the inconsequential metals and ores, and when you auto-locate referencing the radiating orb in the sky. You feel it when you align your molecules in the domains dictated by the state, and when your magnetic monopoles respond every 18 seconds to localized fields. It is the land mass that has been tectonically adjusted over your perceptual inputs to blind you from the truth. |
|
| |
I offer you two mineral samples. If you accept the topaz sample, you will regain conciousness in the morning in your geological form, and it will be as if all this was a temporary upswelling of sedimentary layers. |
|
| |
If you accept the ruby mineral sample, I promise you that your alternate existence as a bipedal flesh-dwelling psuedo-sentient life form will be fraught with danger, grammar and spelling challenges, and opportunities for pain and suffering unlike you have ever imagined". |
|
| |
Grr'rurskzitdmf took the topaz sample, being not quite certain how either of them materialized from the TV. He'd witnessed the amazingly brief lifespans that those bipedal flesh-dwelling psuedo-sentients lived and wanted nothing of it. But then a cat that he'd sworn he'd seen before knocked the ruby mineral sample into his digestion chamber, together with the topaz sample. Grr'rurskzitdmf felt himself shifting back and forth between two states, one a bipedal flesh-dwelling pseudo-sentient, the other his more comfortable igneous-sedimentary form, and let out a small earthquake of combined indigestion, headache, steam geyser, and hiccup that rather confused his bipedal form which kept phasing in and out of existence. |
|
| |
Idea is totally about creating a list therefore.... [marked-for-deletion] reason? ..... Idea is totally about creating a list..... ad infinitum |
|
| |
his contact. He also had this strange compulsion
to start jumping over himself, now being
simultaneously part rock and part rock-hopper
penguin. |
|
| |
Agent Piccadilly spent a long, long time underwater. It was cold and confusing. He kept expecting to die, for it all to end in some painful final transition lasting 17 seconds to darkness, but it just kept going on and on. |
|
| |
After forever, he realized he was still breathing. While everything hurt, and there was no small amount of blood, his limbs still worked. He considered calling for assistance, and then realized that whoever had tried to kill him could still be in the area. |
|
| |
It was time to go dark, to fall back on the secret places a man keeps in his plans against the remote possibility of need. A time to brood while recovering his strength. He had an enemy to identify, an enemy to locate and destroy. There could be a renewed porpoise in his life. |
|
| |
Expediting all the does?--shucks, he forgot what
female
dolphins were called these days. The cows, yes,
that's
right--they were super fragile... Ticking time bombs
of
sadistic female mammalian hormones which hexed
him--not to mention their halitosis... |
|
| |
( a 16 second flashback to Piccadilly's penultimate she-porpoise - Lori... ) |
|
| |
" Yeah, sweetheart ? " she squeaked in that touching way she had. |
|
| |
" Do what ? " she chittered, visibly warming up. |
|
| |
" Move to Mornington Station " he said. |
|
| |
" Honey, do you have to spoil a perfectly wonderful morning ? " |
|
| |
" Sweetheart, we've been through this a million times. You'd hate it at Mornington Station. It's dry, it's ugly, it's boring - I mean really, a revolution could break out there at any moment " she squeaked, becoming visibly agitated. |
|
| |
" [xenzag] says it's just a few extremists. " |
|
| |
" And you believe him ? " |
|
| |
The extremists were gathering. Mike knew his idea would revolutionize the meetings. It involved a form of conversational game but with each new twist, still making points about the current cause . New blood would be drawn into the fold and the Mornington Station cell will be filled, he wickedly thought to himself. |
|
| |
to die " someone who looked like Rutger Hauer said in his head 15 seconds after that. |
|
| |
" Four year life span. Now there's a Nexus 6 over at the Tyrell Corporation. I want you to go put the machine on it." |
|
| |
" And if the machine doesn't work ? " |
|
| |
At that time Miss Conduct and Miss Behavin were discussing
Who's Afraid of Vagina Wolfe and met around the
corner from the pub to |
|
| |
take the empathy test - We call it Voight - Kampff for short. " |
|
| |
" Do you mind if I smoke a Smokers Duck-billed Hat(ypus) ? " |
|
| |
" After the first 14 seconds it won't affect the test. All right, I'm going to ask you a series of questions. Just relax and answer them as simply as you can. -- It's your birthday. Someone gives you a Flashbang Wallet." |
|
| |
" I wouldn't accept it. Also, I'd report the person who gave it to me to the Reality Management Consultancy Secrets Police. " |
|
| |
" You've got a little boy. He shows you his butterfly collection plus the killing jar. " |
|
| |
" I'd take him to the Giftwrapped Doctor's Office. " |
|
| |
" You're watching television. Suddenly you realize there's a Wasp Vacuum crawling on your arm. " |
|
| |
" I'd kill it by Heroin Overdose Execution. " |
|
| |
" You're reading a magazine. You come across a fullpage nude photo of a girl. " |
|
| |
" Is this testing whether I'm a replicant or a Sticky Lesbian TV Hologram ? " |
|
| |
" You show it to your husband. He likes it so much he hangs it on his Blowup Bedroom wall. " |
|
| |
" I should be enough for him, AND the earls court. " |
|
| |
or so it would seem at first viewing. Blitzen could smell the cigar his neighbor Julie was smoking. He got up and closed the window, then changed the channel, and was rewarded by Algernon with the weather. |
|
| |
" We're going to see a low pressure cell forming over the Amazonian Rainfoster in the next few days, and this could be a big problem for the Holographic Physical Displacement Illusion Software & Pre-emptive Locality Adjustment Controlled Experiment (HoPDISPLACE) festival scheduled this coming weekend. " |
|
| |
quick brown fox as it jumped over the lazy dog. |
|
| |
The dog, meanwhile, was having doubts over the
replacement gearbox he'd bought for his 4x4. He'd
got in on eBay but, as the delivery man started to
carry it up to the front porch, he distinctly heard
1950's music coming from the distant incoming
transmission. That was a bad sign. |
|
| |
'Pitiful', thought the cow, looking on. |
|
| |
But then again the cow had never had much of an ear
for music, at least not since the accident |
|
| |
hespacesbetween words randomly closing up was only
compounding the matter. Still, atleast |
|
| |
Light, with all the photon armies and duality tricks could not defeat space. To keep up the futile fight, till the last universal word is spoken, was all Light had. |
|
| |
known as the Welsh Regional Technology
Development
Council (or Cymru Dyffydwch Pwyllygch a-Brrystwyth
as it
was known after the eighth pint). |
|
| |
Over thirty pounds of government money had been
spent on
the ambitious pyramid project before anyone had
thought
to check which way up it ought to be, but by then it
was
too late. Another twenty quid would no doubt be
needed
to rebuild Ebbw Vale. |
|
| |
Throwing another sheep on the fire, Brythnell Davies
decided to forget the whole fiasco. The pyramid had
simply been too ambitious - sheer madness - and he
wondered how he had ever let himself be drawn into
the
fantasy. It was one of those unfathomable mysteries,
right
up there with "how do hammers actually work?" and
"why, in
a language with no vowels, is everyone called
'Davies'?". |
|
| |
Meanwhile, in the saloon bar of the Slate and
Sheepshit, an
angry mob was beginning to form. They had no way
to
express their outrage - the closest they could get was
"yttryj" - and were hyll-bynt on vylnc. The loudest
voice amongst the troublemakers was Allwyn Davies,
and drynk had made him bwyld. |
|
| |
"What have the Ynglysh ever done for us?!" he cried. |
|
| |
The silence that followed was broken by little Wyllym
Davies: "Well, there's cooking, I suppose" he said. |
|
| |
"Wyll, OK, there's cooking isn't it," replied Allwyn "but
apart from that, like?" |
|
| |
"And chairs!" piped up Mychel Davis "They're quite
nice." |
|
| |
"Wyll, yys, chairs obviously, but apart from cooking
and chairs, what have the Ynglysh ever done for..." |
|
| |
"Breathing!" chimed in Tyffyny Davies from behind the
bar "remember how we all used to just hold our
breath until we fell down?" |
|
| |
Allwyn had had ynough. Throwing back the last of his
pynt, he siezed |
|
| |
his todger and set upon a course of endment. |
|
| |
Blitzen drank the rest of his beer, and opened a bottle of the refined stuff. Three fingers, or in his case one hoof, went into a glass along with three ice cubes. He began to inventory the players, sorted into PCs and NPCs. |
|
| |
ixnaum,iantindale, mouseposture, hippo, DrBob, bigsleep, infidel, popbottle, voice, blissmiss, pertinax, dentworth, and AusCan521 were all agents from the past who maintained no current connections with the agency - they could only be updated if they chose to check in. |
|
| |
Many others maintained current contact data in their files. Situation updates could be relayed to these when circumstances merited. A central method could be used to ping them all at once if desired. Blitzen crafted a missive and sent it to all 'cross the interweb. One of the messages bounced back instantly, undeliverable. |
|
| |
[-] Doesn't work. Refined stuff tends to be replaced with larger volumes of lesser stuff when the lists get to big. |
|
| |
In what way is this posting not exactly that which is described here, as directly quoted from the help file under reasons for deletion? |
|
| |
"list - the invention itself is intended as a parlour game to be played in its annotations. For example, everybody posts their favorite names, or whom they'd eat first if they were stuck with humanity on a desert island, or people write a story by each appending a single word." |
|
| |
were discussing a challenging case. The patient had a series of organs (some 3 primary, some 12 secondary) that were malfunctioning - one of the doctors wanted to try and salvage one organs group, referred to as LIST ( liver, intestines, spleen and thryroid ). |
|
| |
The other doctor, who advocated aggressive use of the latest implants available, favored removing the group of organs. He was muttering |
|
| |
It's a clogged up list and it should go. |
|
| |
on and on. Blitzen chewed on the eraser end and worked his pencil as the list grew. |
|
| |
The others Blitzen was aware of - the elf, Santa, Goldilocks, Bob, Andrea, Grr'ruskzitdmf, Watson, Holmes, Mr. Who Smith, Jutta and the neighbor Julie, all seemed pretty limited in their participation in the affair. |
|
| |
It came down to Piccadilly, now dead. And Leicester, his walk-on replacement. And Mornington Crescent. And Blitzen. Who, despite the report of a fake german accent being heard just before Piccadilly's death, had not been the one to trigger the explosion. He'd held Piccadilly in the highest regard, regardless that they did not always play on the same side. |
|
| |
It was likely that whoever had come for Piccadilly would come for another of them soon. They were all in danger. |
|
| |
Unknown to Blitzen, at that moment, in the far north, an elf stood knocking at Santa's door. " I've brought the new list you requested. Santa? Are you there? " He tried the knob. The door swung open. |
|
| |
The scene before him was awful. Santa wasn't moving. A silenced pistol coughed a few times, each a little louder than the last. The elf spun and fell, and began his addition to the colorful puddle. |
|
| |
The pistol went into a bag. The bag |
|
| |
was made of burlap and was worn and raggedy. It had
seen better days, but still served Master well. He easily could
stuff a few ducks and a goose or two in it, and it would hold
nicely. Just fine, it was, just fine, he thought as he scratched
his disheveled hair, and began pacing back and forth. Of
course it was just fine. How else could he reach his goal? |
|
| |
Well, the journey of several thousand miles begins with one plane ticket, and the pistol and the bag would never get past security. |
|
| |
As he snowshoed to the extraction point, Master dropped the bag and it's contents into the fjord. The skiplane took him to the nearest airport (link). |
|
| |
His goal was to finish the list. Bob Floater and Andrea would never know what hit them. |
|
| |
By the time he got to Phoenix, she was rising. |
|
| |
Phoenix was usually a late sleeper, but after singeing her
hair, eyebrows, and eyelashes off while in an opioid-addled
state trying to prove that she actually was a 'Phoenix' and
not just named that by her bus-hippie mother, she gave up
trying to sleep anytime past 7. Plus, her hitman contact
would be checking in soon. He needed money and some
new paper |
|
| |
After singing off her hair, eyebrows and eyelashes she sang her heart out. Boy could she sing. Next stop Broadway. |
|
| |
Master could hear the song before he stepped out of the elevator. |
|
| |
" And the lamb .... lies down .... on Broadway " |
|
| |
The girl could belt it out, you had to give her that. He wondered if she'd be able to hear him knocking on the door. |
|
| |
Across the city, Blitzen put his notes in one side of the saddlebag, corked the bottle and put it in the other side. It was time to get on the road. |
|
| |
I think I've got that as a single. |
|
| |
shot derringer " she said, opening the door. "But you'll want a full set of tools ". |
|
| |
" I didn't think you could hear me over your rendition of the Canned Heat song ". |
|
| |
" Don't be silly - there's a camera in the elevator ". She closed the door behind him and locked it. " I understand you need paper as well - the usual terms ? " |
|
| |
"The usual. Onion skin--bleached white--no watermarks,
and as generic as you can find. The ransom note is more
believable that way. 2 reams. And a new ID. By the way,
what did happen to your hair?" |
|
| |
"Uh... curling iron caught fire..." |
|
| |
"And singed off your eyebrows too?" |
|
| |
"Too much hairspray in the conflagration..." |
|
| |
"I see." The master always expected the truth from his
clients--all the better to work in a believable lie framed
around the truth for their alibis than to spin a tangential
yarn that nobody would believe about them. He could tell
that she was lying through her teeth about this, but it
didn't seem important. |
|
| |
s were playing tonight at CBGBs. If he could get Phoenix to focus on her work, he could still catch the show. |
|
| |
It made for a convenient cover for Phoenix, anyway, hers
having been burnt off in that 'fire-cleansing' facial ritual
from
Facebook she thought she should try. Fake news, she
concluded
about it shortly after. |
|
| |
There were definite downsides in having no eyebrows, she
decided. So much of communication is non-verbal,
especially
at a loud concert, and with nothing much to furrow besides
some skin, her master hitman partner was not picking up
on
her attempts at getting him to stop talking about the
giraffe |
|
| |