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Shady Stoat
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 Posted: Wed Dec 02, 2009 7:24 am Post subject: The Liar, The Snitch and the Wardrobe |
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Since I'm old school and this section used to be called 'Humor and Experimental', I'm going to post my SG here. If any of the higher ups think it's more of a fantasy story and decide to move it to there, then I'll accept their decision in a mature and sensible fashion, as befits my dignity. *wobbles lower lip* *pouts* *sulks*
Anyway, here it is. Enjoy.
====
Chapter 1: White Snow
“When's the shipment due, Sammy?”
“What's the name of his supplier?”
“Where does it come from? Names, Sammy, we need names!”
Sammy squirmed in the hard, plastic chair. He was uncomfortably aware of the three bean burrito he'd had for lunch, and the way it was trying to escape from his sphincter. Just at this moment, he would have given anything for a good five minutes in a bathroom. Or even a bad five minutes, he wasn't picky.
The box-room stank of fear and anger. His fear. Their anger. The two police officers sat on the opposite side of the table, watching him as a grandmother with extremely big ears and sharp teeth watches the girl in the scarlet cloak. Expecting him to squeal in the same high-pitched pigtail voice too.
Well, it wasn't going to happen. Sammy Glommit was made of sterner stuff. He was a man's man, a stand-up-and-be-counted man, a rule breaker, a freedom fighter, an oak standing in the face of the hurricane.
Who was he fooling? Give him a basket of goodies and a forest to walk through and he was wolfbait!
“Look – guys!” Maybe reason would save him. “If the Shark finds out I've even been here with you two, he'll...”
“Break every bone in your body?” Suggested the larger of the two officers, gleefully.
“Hand you over to his Rottweillers for playtime?” The sharp-nosed one added.
Sammy heard the click in his throat as he swallowed. “He'll... be upset.”
Sharp-nose leaned back in his chair. “Here's the deal, Sammy. You're going to tell us everything we want to know. Or we might just get upset too.”
Fatty stood up, walked around the table and switched off the tape recorder. “We know someone's been stealing money from the Shark's bank accounts. We don't know who – and we don't care. Not our problem. But, if you stay schtumm, certain friends of ours are going to deposit some money in your bank account. Just about the amount he's missing. How 'upset' do you think old Sharkie will be then?”
Sammy uttered a quivering groan. Forget the five minutes in a bathroom. He was going to need a mop!
~
Lia knew, the moment Sammy walked into the warehouse, that something was up. His round face was flushed and sweaty. He was doing the weird drummy thing with his fingers - the thing he did every time he had a losing hand at the poker table. His straw-coloured hair was dishevelled, as if he'd been clutching at it, and he had a trapped rodent look in his pale eyes.
That dumbass never could fool his own sister. How he'd managed to tie his own laces, never mind break into business with the Mob, was beyond her. Yet, by some miracle he had. The Shark had even taken on Sammy's recommendation to hire Lia. And so here they were, waiting in an empty auction house for one of their regular meetings with the big man himself.
And her brother was going to louse it up. She could just tell.
“What have you done this time, Sam?”
Her brother twitched, his complexion turning from white to green in an instant. He swiped at his forehead with his shirt cuff.
“N-nothing! I haven't done a thing! What makes you think I'd do anything? I would never – never – dream of...”
He trailed off under the force of her stare.
“Sammy. There's a reason mum and dad called me Lia, and not you.” She sighed. “C'mon, give it up. Truth now.”
He sank back against one of the antique wooden bureaus, stacked against the walls for the perusal of the next auction crowd.
“I'm in trouble, Li.”
She rolled her eyes. “So what's new?”
“I – I think someone's been stealing from the Shark.”
“What?” In a second, she closed the distance between the two of them and grabbed him by the front of his shirt. “How do you know that?”
“Gerroff! The police told me!”
“The police?” Lia felt the strength go from her legs. She sat down on the cold stone floor. “Tell me everything, little bro. Right now.”
He blurted out the whole sad story, from when the police had taken him in for questioning, to the part where he'd told them at the deal going down next week, by the docks. The part where they'd let him go, and he, like the star role in “Britain's Dumbest Criminals” had come straight over here. The cops were probably crowded around the auction house like flies around a...
Her nostrils wrinkled. “What's that smell?”
Sammy grimaced. “Three bean burrito.”
“What?” She shook her head. “Never mind. Look – this is bad.”
“I had to tell them, Lia! They were going to set me up for it!”
“You idiot! Whatever they did, I could undo. I'm his accountant, remember?”
“But... all that money...”
The slow misery of comprehension dawning on his face would probably make her feel sorry for him at some point. Just after she'd kicked him up and down the auction house a few dozen times, most likely.
“I stole the money, okay?” She watched as her brother's eyes goggled. “Yeah, me.”
“But... why?”
“I was doing it for m... for our future. We can't keep running errands for the mob until we're riding around in bathchairs Sammy! This way, twelve months of skimming and we'd have enough to buy ourselves a little island somewhere. Retire with all the luxuries a few million can buy. Think of it! All the beer you can drink. All the women you could entertain yourself with.” Her face screwed up anew as Sammy chose again to express his nerves rectally. “All the toilet paper you could handle.”
“You?”
“We've already covered that bit, bro. Try to keep u...”
The doors of the warehouse crashed open. Police radios crackled as Lia grabbed her brother and tugged them both into the shadows.
“The police? How did they get here?” asked Sammy, eyes wide.
Lia rolled her eyes. “You brought them here, Mastermind. Quick, we've gotta hide!”
“But... they'll catch the Shark.”
“Sharky will take care of himself,” she hissed. “We have to do the same. Quick! Into that wardrobe!”
“What?” But Sam allowed himself to be shoved into the darkness, his objections becoming muffled.
The police were closing in fast. She could see the shadows advancing on their hidey hole. The wardrobe was a chance. Not a good chance, but she'd take what she could get. Closing the door behind her as quietly as possible, she slipped inside.
The auction house was so dimly lit that even the keyhole didn't provide a chink of light. It was pitch dark in here.
“Sammy. You okay?”
No answer. Lia felt her heart hammering against her ribs, like a drummer who'd managed to convince the band to pay him by the note instead of by the hour.
“Sammy?” she tried again, reaching out this time. He wasn't there. Neither was the back wall.
Her brows drew together and she took a tentative step backwards. Still no wall, still no Sammy. Step by step she searched, each pace becoming a little colder, a little less woody underfoot. She could smell something now. Something potent and sharp, like toilet cleaner and old hamster cages.
“I'm gonna kill you, little bro,” she muttered in a shaky voice. Then she saw it ahead. Something like a curtain of gauze, with light shining through it from beyond.
Was it some sort of hoax? No. Sammy didn't have the brains for that. And the Shark didn't play with his food. He just devoured.
Forcing herself, she reached forward and twitched the curtain aside. It dissolved in her hand, leaving her to blink, stunned.
In front of her was a whole different world. One of tall, gnarled trees and cold, powdery snow. At last, she recognised the scent. Wood and decaying leaves. There was no call for a City girl like her to have made the association. And no way she could have guessed at it being here within the confines of a wardrobe! It wasn't like you got the bloody Nile flowing out every time you opened the oven door to stick a chicken roast in! Or found a swamp inside your shower curtain! Well, in Sam's case, the inside of his shower was pretty much like a swamp, but even so...
She realised she was giddy with hysteria and forced deep breaths. It was then that she heard the shouts in the distance. Sammy's shouts.
Without the intervention of her brain, her feet started running. The snow kicked up powder around her knees and she strained her eyes to see any signs of her idiot brother.
Rounding a thick clump of undergrowth, she found him, rolling around on the ground, yelling and cursing. The reason for this was fairly plain. There was a... a something... wrestling Sammy, its mouth buried against his hip. It was the most bizarre creature she'd ever seen in her life – and this was from a girl who'd been to three Accountants' Christmas Parties!
The thing had hairy legs. Really hairy! Bright orange fur spread from waist to ankles, stopping at its cloven hooves. Its knees were joined the wrong way around, like an animal's. Above the waist, it was human, apart from the horns that sprouted from its forehead and the bright lilac of its blazing eyes. It was also naked. Bare chested wasn't so bad, but Lia found her eyes being drawn hypnotically to the... well, let's call it the pelvis. When God had been handing out the meat and two veg, this guy had got an all-you-can-eat buffet! Complete with aperitifs, fish course, choice of tea or coffee and after dinner mints!
It was only Sammy's repeated screams for help that drew her attention away again. As she took another step toward the two of them, the goat-man gave a triumphant growl and tore away her brother's trousers at the seam. Springing to his feet, he pranced away with them in his mouth.
“My trousers!” yelped Sam. Then his brow wrinkled. He dipped a finger into the snow and touched it to his tongue. A slow blink later, he started to smile.
“Lia,” he slurred. “This isn't snow.”
She was about to ask what it was, then she realised she didn't need to. She'd been working for the Shark long enough to recognise the hard stuff when she saw it. And Sammy was swimming in it, trouserless. A dope in a sea of dope!
She bent over to drag him to his feet when a sound made her straighten up. It was coming from the opposite direction to the one the creature had run off in. It took her a moment to recognise the sound for what it was.
“Sleigh bells?” She muttered. “What next?”
Last edited by Shady Stoat on Wed Jan 27, 2010 3:19 am; edited 6 times in total
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Crunchyfrog
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| Posted: Wed Dec 02, 2009 9:01 am Post subject: |
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FIRST POST!!!! Nyah!!!
*makes lots of footprints in the dubious chemical snow-like stuff* 
Lovely twists there, nicely delivered!
Is this a what next DP, or a decision for Lia? Hmm. I wonder whether the Shark knows about this Wardrobe, the world beyond being covered in the white powdery stuff, and the Wardrobe being in the very place the man likes to hold his mob meetings. But she might not be thinking about that yet, things are happening too fast.
Judging by her reaction to the goat man, her instinct might just be to follow him and get a closer look at his credentials. I mean, wow.
The creature has her brother's trousers, so that's a good enough excuse as any to go after him. Although she'll have to get Sammy up out of the snow prompt-ish or he'll be stoned as hell and no use to anyone.
That's my first thought anyway. After Goat-man!
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Wed Dec 02, 2009 9:08 am Post subject: |
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Thanks Crunchy
Yes, the DP is meant to be a 'what would you do in this situation'. I suppose I should have made that clear
It can be for either Lia or Sammy, or for both. If you have any thoughts on their next moves, either individually or together, here's the place to put 'em!
*grits teeth and waits for the chaos to ensue*
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DeadManWalking
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| Posted: Wed Dec 02, 2009 9:20 am Post subject: |
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lol This could turn out VERY interesting. I'm waiting to see what else you do with this series!
My suggestion, since Crunchy has already suggested following the Goat-man, is to hide somewhere. Wait for whatever's making the sleigh sounds, and see what's going on. That seems like something Lia would do, being a crafty broad and all.
Alternatively, you could combine the two options. Lia hides and tells her brother to follow, but he decides going after his pants is a better idea.
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Thunderbird
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| Posted: Wed Dec 02, 2009 12:06 pm Post subject: |
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Awesome! Another Shady-Lady tale begins and I'm able to be there for its beginning .
(Nice av CF!)
Written brilliantly as befits such a veteran SG'er as yourself. Makes me wonder if it was the three bean burrito that had attracted the faun to his trousers... ugh.
As for the DP, I'd say they should hide under the snow and watch what comes their way.
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 CHAPTER 25: Near-Light Speed (NEW CHAPTER! (12/4/2011))
Zephyrrr! And...  
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Smee
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| Posted: Wed Dec 02, 2009 1:25 pm Post subject: |
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*giggles... stops... giggles a little more.*
Diving under the 'snow' to hide sounds dangerous. Things are bizarre enough without a nose full of powder and Lia certainly doesn't want to encourage Sammy to play with the stuff.
There's mention of a thick clump of undergrowth - I suggest hiding in there. And once Santa Crack has gone by, it's a convenient place for Sammy to ... empty himself.
Loving it so far,
Happy Writing 
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Amichan
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| Posted: Wed Dec 02, 2009 4:28 pm Post subject: |
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I sense a slight trample on a CS Lewis story possibly but i Think Ol Stoat won't do that ... ( at least i don't think she will )
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Wed Dec 02, 2009 11:50 pm Post subject: |
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Well, some people say satire is the lowest form of wit.
So what on earth makes you think I won't stoop to it? Stoats are pretty low, you know
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Chinaren
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| Posted: Thu Dec 03, 2009 6:03 am Post subject: |
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Ah, there's the Stoat I know!
Lovely. Mmm. Well, greed would probably kick in about now. Finding a bag and collecting some 'snow' would be high on the list.
If I recall correctly though, time passes faster in the wardrobe, so they'll need to hang about quite a while before they can safely exit. Unless there's another way out...
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scissorkitty
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| Posted: Thu Dec 03, 2009 7:02 pm Post subject: |
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I agree with Cren about "saving" some of the "snow".. I wonder what the pants heist was all about? Once some of the white stuff has been saved and safely hidden away, I think splitting up to follow the goat man, and also wait for Santa Drugs sounds totally plausible.. and follows the rough story line of the classic tale.
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Lebrenth
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| Posted: Fri Dec 04, 2009 6:07 pm Post subject: a winter wonderland |
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Well, if we're satirizing closely enough, we're not going to run into Santa Drugs, we're going to have an unpleasant meeting with the White Witch. I personally think we want to learn more about Narcotia (sorry, I wanted to try a few dumb puns too) from more benign characters. I think we'd best run away from the sleigh bells and not try to spy. We'll just end up getting caught.
Maybe we can find a hemp forest? There ought to be nice chilled out folks around there.
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scissorkitty
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| Posted: Fri Dec 04, 2009 7:12 pm Post subject: |
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HAAA! That's getting into the spirit of things. Narcotia, the White Powder B... Witch of.. not Narnia.. then where?
Shouldn't there be other fuzzy wuzzy denizens of the forest running around? I see your point about asking around for more info on the Witch.
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scissorkitty
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| Posted: Fri Dec 04, 2009 7:17 pm Post subject: |
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((bob))
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Wed Dec 09, 2009 1:21 am Post subject: |
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Poll's up for 5 days. Cast your vote or forever wonder what would have happened if you had 
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Crunchyfrog
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| Posted: Wed Dec 09, 2009 1:29 am Post subject: |
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Difficult choice between 1, 2 and 4 for me - *discards 4 due to the fact there's enough snow for it not to be a priority*
Mmmm. Hide under the snow and get stoned, or follow meat-and-2-veg?
Ummm.... and voted. 
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Nshade
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| Posted: Wed Dec 09, 2009 2:26 am Post subject: |
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| I voted, both seem to split up! It would be a good choice to make. since then the brother can find his pants, or new clothes for that matter. And the girl wait for that something to appear.
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Mirel
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| Posted: Wed Dec 09, 2009 7:38 am Post subject: |
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I'm currently debating over wheither to be extremly angry at the author for a satire based on my favorite childhood (and to be honest, Adulthood. *smiles* Hey what can I say, I love children books! *shrugs* That fact among others have people convinced I'm an eight year old hiding behind an adult body) book or being highly amused. While I'm deciding, I figured I vote for one option that didn't have a vote...and wait for the general chaos to ensue. Either way, I'm finding rottent tomatoes and some popcorn...just in case  .
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Wed Dec 09, 2009 8:09 am Post subject: |
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A revenge vote. I like it!
Welcome to the party Mirel. Mmmmmm, popcorn....
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Crunchyfrog
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| Posted: Fri Dec 11, 2009 6:37 am Post subject: |
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| C'mon guys, meat and 2 veg! Meat and 2 veg!
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Lebrenth
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| Posted: Mon Dec 14, 2009 5:04 pm Post subject: |
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Shucks, I missed the vote. Well, let's split up then. Maybe we'll lose our snitch (he's dead weight. We can rescue him later).
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Wed Dec 16, 2009 9:10 am Post subject: |
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Chapter Two: Splitting Headache
Goat man or sleigh bells? Lia froze, trying to weigh up the options. Her instincts were to run after the creature and find out what the hell was going on here. If he was half as smart as he was well endowed, there'd be plenty of profit in a long, hard talk with him. And if he wasn't... well, other things than conversation could be made long and hard. Especially if he had a brother or a cousin to make it into a real party.
On the other hand, the goat-man was leaving tracks. Ones that she could follow at a later date if she chose. If she didn't head for the sound of the sleigh bells, they would disappear for good. That opportunity would be lost forever. This place, crazy as it was, really existed – and that meant possibilities as yet unimagined! Dreams of Caribbean islands suddenly seemed small and insignificant compared to whole worlds of well hung natives and all the happy dust you could sell.
Talking of happy dust...
"Sammy, get up!"
"I am, I am."
"I mean up out of the snow, not up high out-of-your-face!" she snapped. Reaching down, she grabbed him by the arm and hauled. Then, when that didn't work, she took a handful of his hair and pulled his face out of the snow.
He yelped and scrambled to his feet. She made a snap decision.
"Come on, we're going to see what that noise is."
"But my trousers..."
"Shut up. Follow me."
Lia took off, head low. She kept behind the undergrowth as far as possible, ducking and weaving between the trees as she sprinted toward the sound of the jangling bells.
The tree branches twisted into and around one another, obscuring her view and making progress tough. She tried not to inhale as the passage of her body dislodged the snow from the boughs. The last thing she needed was both of them unable to count how many fingers they had on each hand, or holding conversations with their invisible squirrel friends!
Meanwhile, the bell sounds seemed no closer than they had been. She found herself wondering if they were real or whether she was just imagining them. Perhaps they weren't sleigh bells at all. In a world that came out of the backside of a wardrobe, who was to say anything made sense? The noise could be two birds mating. The fruit of a bell-tree, blowing in the breeze. A festive badger with a boom-box and an accompanying choir, even!
Just as she was beginning to doubt her initial choice, the woods ended. Not in a gradual thinning out of the trees, though. As sudden as one step to the next, she found herself in long, turquoise grass up to her knees. The smell of it was sharp, almost bitter. Like the aroma you got when opening the types of wine bottles that came free with cheap indian takeaways. Through watering eyes, she looked around.
There was a path ahead, running parallel to her and wreathed in thin mist. A brightly painted wagon was edging along... backwards. There were seven rather grubby looking dwarves harnessed by intricate livery, to the front of it. They backed up, a step at a time, straining against their leather harnesses with sweat-slick skin and bulging muscles. At the back end, an eighth perched on the tail end of the wagon, a stick with bells on in one hand, a wooden megaphone in the other. He repeated the same routine, over and over, with all the joy of someone facing major root canal surgery.
Jinglejinglejingle.... "This vehicle is reversing"... jinglejinglejingle... "This vehicle is reversing"...
Meanwhile, the top of the carriage was being ridden by another creature of sanity-stretching description.
Lia gaped, trying to work out what she was seeing. The... thing!... had a muscular body and large frame. It was clothed in boots and loincloth and looked mostly human, except for the thin covering of sandy fur over its flesh. But its head was not human. It was... a moose? No – a reindeer, maybe – complete with long nose, soft brown eyes and antlers. As it turned in her direction and opened its mouth, she was reminded of the horrible singing trophy-heads you got from joke shops. She just knew it was going to burst into some horrible Bing Crosby rendition at the drop of a hat. Complete with the buh-buh-buh-buhms!
Instead, it said, in a peevish and squeaky voice. "Well, don't just stand there! Come help me unload the cargo!"
"Err... what?" was the best Lia could manage on short notice.
"Come. And. Unload," it repeated. "Really – what do they pay you people for anyway? Are you new?"
"I... I don't know what you're talking about," she said. "We just got here. Wherever here is."
"We?"
Lia looked around. She rubbed at her eyes, feeling the first signs of a major headache emerging.
"Sammy!" she muttered. "You idiot!"
There was no sign of him. And behind her, she could see the first flakes of snow falling, beginning to cover up her prints.
~
"Three hours."
Morris gulped. The Shark was speaking in a low, pleasant voice. That was never good.
"Yes Sir. I'm sorry Sir. They wouldn't even confirm you were in the cells for the first two of them. Then they wanted us to fill in paperwork and..."
He smiled, showing off the wealth of gold fillings. Oh, someone was going to die today. Morris hoped it wasn't going to be him.
"They had me sitting in an eight-by-six for three hours, Morris. Asking me questions. Personal questions." Those cold eyes bored into the lawyer and he shivered, despite himself. "Remind me, son. What do I pay you for?"
"The time wasn't wasted, Sir," babbled the lawyer. "While I was trying to get you out, we managed to get to the security tapes in the warehouse. The cops never even knew they were there."
"Nor did anyone else, my boy," said the Shark. "And I would prefer it kept that way."
As the limousine driver finally pulled into the driveway of the Shark's mansion, the car slowed to a halt. Without the expression on his face changing even a little, the Shark drew out a gun from its hiding place in the car door panel, and shot the driver in the back of the skull. Morris yelped, the thwupp of the silenced bullet echoing around and around his brain. The sight of blood and brains, dripping down the windscreen, was an image he knew would wake him up at four in the morning, for years to come. And yet a sneaky part of him felt relief. The Shark rarely killed twice in a row. Better the limo driver than himself!
"There." The Shark said. "A secret once more. You were saying?"
Morris forced his lips to move. "The... the tapes. Umm.... yes. I went through them personally. There's something you should see."
"Then let us see, by all means. I shall be with you directly, as soon as I find Henry."
"H-Henry?"
"My butler." At Morris's blank expression, the Shark raised his eyebrows. "Someone has to valet my car."
~
Half an hour later, Morris and the Shark sat in the mobster's viewing room as the tape told its tale. The Shark took the remote control and, with steady hands, wound it back.
"... stole the money, okay?" He press rewind, sending the pretty accountant a little further back this time. "Whatever they did, I could undo. I'm his accountant, remember? I stole the money, okay? Yeah, me."
Morris watched as the Shark replayed the same scene. Six, seven, eight, nine times. Then he went back to the part where the shifty guy – Sammy, was it? - had admitted telling the police where next week's dock run was taking place. He viewed that with similar fascination. Oh yes. Someone was going to die – if not today, then very soon.
"This saddens me, Morris."
"Yes Sir. I mean, me too Sir."
"Disloyalty. It's a terrible thing."
"Yes Sir."
"When will they be free from their questioning?"
Morris opened his mouth. "Err... questioning?"
"They are with the police, are they not?"
"No Sir. My informant tells me they never came out of the warehouse."
"And what does the tape say?"
"Sir, I only had time to watch it to the point of the girl's confession. With you being in police custody, I felt it prudent not to..."
In a single economical finger gesture, the Shark conveyed to Morris two clear options. Either stop talking or lose the tongue. The same finger came down to press the play button on the remote control. This time, the tape ran on to watch two muzzy figures disappearing into one of the cabinets.
Morris and his boss watched as the police scoured the auction house, inch by inch. Not a stone was unturned, not a piece of furniture left unexamined. Including the hiding place of the accountant and the snitch.
"Either they bribed someone to overlook them," breathed Morris, "Or..."
"Or something requires a closer look." The Shark clapped his hand against the arm of his chair, making Morris jump. "Have the police finished their business in my meeting room?"
"They're still at the auction house, Sir. I think they're searching the place for signs of drugs. And stolen property. And..."
The Shark smiled indulgently. "I'm sure they'll tire of their entertainment presently. Please inform me when they have ceased activity there. I believe I'll take a look into this matter... personally."
Morris found himself wondering whether the Shark hired warehouse valets too.
~
"My trousers," repeated Sammy at Lia's retreating back.
He blinked, wondering whether to follow her.
Get up Sammy. Follow me Sammy. Shut up Sammy. You can't do anything right, can you Sammy?
His jaw set. She didn't respect him. After all he'd done for her – the job he'd secured for her, the success he'd made of his own business, the powerful friends he'd acquired – she still thought he was nothing.
A man deserved better than that. He deserved a sister who looked up to him. He deserved to be told about operations involving stolen money before he got picked up by the police and questioned about them. He deserved...
He looked down at himself and frowned, trying to focus. A pair of pale stalks with knobbly knees was all the reward he got for his efforts. Even he couldn't respect a man with milk-bottle legs poking out beneath his shirt.
"Trousers," he said, with wobbly certainty. "That's what I deserve. Yes indeedy. Trousers. Then reshpeckt."
With an involuntary giggle, he began to weave a path in pursuit of the goat man.
Snow came up past the top of his shoes and nestled on the fabric of his socks as he stumbled on. It should have been cold, but it wasn't. It had all the chill of English beer, and all the flavour of English cooking. Just to be sure, though, he checked the fact, frequently and conscientiously. The trees got more populous and denser as he ran, although that could have been down to the triple vision. He was pretty sure the balloon-waving orang-utans in football shirts were just in his imagination – but he waved as he passed, just in case.
It is said that fortune favours the young, the innocent and the terminally stupid. Sammy was definitely at least one of the three. At no point, however, does it say how long it takes for Fortune to get her act together. Sammy zigzagged back and forth, shouting alternate pleas and threats about his trousers for what seemed like hours, before a new smell came to his attention. It drew him, screaming at his stomach juices like an overzealous Sergeant Major at Boot Camp.
Something was cooking. And Sammy hadn't eaten in... well, it had to be hours!
He stumbled toward the smell and found himself standing outside three log cabins. He blinked hard, and it became, momentarily at least, just a single cabin again. The delicious aroma was coming from in there.
He raised a hand to knock, and paused. A reluctant brain cell fired into life, and an idea sparked. He crept, as quietly and not-falling-over-his-own-feet-ly as he could, to the side of the cabin. High on the side wall, there was a round window, with strangely sparkling glass. Blue shutters were open on either side, standing out at right angles to the wall.
Holding onto one of the logs for balance, Sammy pressed his eye into the gap between the wooden shutter hinge and the log wall it was attached to. He peered into the cabin and his eyes widened.
The goat man was there – and he had company. Stirring the cauldron in the corner of the room was an orange furred goat lady, with curly hair and a pointed chin. Like the goat man, she didn't wear clothes. Her breasts were unfettered and perky – all six of them! A smaller goat-child suckled at one of the lower ones, and other young goatlings played with each other on the floor.
For the first time, it occurred to Sammy that he might just be dreaming. Was he still in the police cell, having suffered a major nervous breakdown from the questioning? Or had he got on a bad high and imagined even that? He reached down, patted at his legs and then pinched himself hard on the thigh, just to make sure.
Ouch! Pain, and still no trousers. It was real, sure enough.
So what did he do now? He weighed the lure of getting his trousers back, and possibly getting some of whatever smelled so delicious, against the risks of becoming an bit part in Seven Goats for Seven Udders.
Where was a big sister to boss you around when you needed her?
===
In case people were wondering about what vote won, it was for Lia and Sammy to split up, with 3 votes out of 8
Just to be clear here, the DPs are for Lia and Sammy, not for the Shark. There will be two separate DPs, one for each since they're now separated. So, what do they do next?
Last edited by Shady Stoat on Wed Dec 16, 2009 2:04 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Crunchyfrog
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| Posted: Wed Dec 16, 2009 9:32 am Post subject: |
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Haha, well for Lia, she must be dumbstruck beyond belief. Well, if she ignored him and carried on through the turquoise grass who knows what else she'd encounter. Plus, whatever needs unloading might be more useful contreband of another description.
If I were Lia, I'd be saying 'What the hell' and go along with it. Running back towards Sammy might not achieve anything, and she's not sure whether or not Reindeer Man or his eight dwarves might follow. Sounds like the dwarves are having a tough time of it though! Plus, if she helps Rudolph, she might gain an ally, something she could probably do with, right now.
For Sammy, well, he's currently out of his tree, and has the munchies. I should imagine he'd like nothing better than to sneak in unnoticed, take a ladle full of stew, steal his trousers back and sneak out again. However,whatever he attempts to do is likely to attract the attention of Goat man and his family. His brain is not exactly working well right now, so knocking on the door, or attempting to lure one of them outside or some other devious plan might not be obvious to him.
So with the jingle bells and snow still fresh in his mind, the most logical and sensible approach to his cunning plan, at least in his opinion would be to sneak in down the chimney. 
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scissorkitty
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| Posted: Wed Dec 16, 2009 10:16 am Post subject: |
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I think Lia, cocky and headstong like she is, should put on airs, and pretend to be some sort of overseer- sent to investigate the "hold up" of the Reindeer-Man and his Dwarf-driven wagon. She's hoping she can act enough like the Shark to bully her way into the contents of the wagon, without having to do any dirty work herself. I think Lia is much more of an "instructor" type, rather than a grunt.
Sammy.... i F5 Crunchy, he's probably not thinking very clearly. He might offer something else in TRADE for the trousers and some stew- perhaps he's thinking that his dress socks, or shirt, would be a better loss than his pants?
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Thunderbird
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| Posted: Wed Dec 16, 2009 4:46 pm Post subject: |
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What an excellent SG Stoat! Loving every word!
I agree with CF that Lia would do best to just work her way into this world as an employee, for now. Who knows what wonders that might bring? (Funny to think of the reindeer driving the sleigh... awesome!)
As for Sammy, I'd say he's thinking so UNclearly that he forgets all about the trousers and the goat-people inside the house and notices his breath on the window, which prompts him to start drawing smiley faces in the condensation, which draws the goat-people's attention to him unwittingly. (though I like the idea of going down the chimney too!)
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CHAPTER 25: Near-Light Speed (NEW CHAPTER! (12/4/2011))
Zephyrrr! And...
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DeadManWalking
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| Posted: Wed Dec 16, 2009 5:49 pm Post subject: |
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I do like the idea of him going down the chimney. It has fantastic potential for fun times.
And I do have to agree with Skitty that Lia would do better as management. She should try, anyways.
Sadly, I have nothing else to add. :-(
But good job Stoat!
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Fri Dec 18, 2009 3:24 am Post subject: |
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Loving the suggestions so far guys
I'll be putting the first poll up on sunday, so if anyone else has any suggestions, feel free to add them 
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Lebrenth
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| Posted: Fri Dec 18, 2009 8:13 am Post subject: Maybe not |
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I don't know, separate decisions for both? That sounds tricky. I would make the suggestion to reunite the two just for the convenience of the author... but then again, she's the one who decided to follow both characters at the same time.
All right, I'll just wait and vote. I'm curious how this will be managed. Anyway, if the reindeer actually pays the dwarves, I suppose it's not too humiliating to pretend to be an employee. Frankly, the snitch can end up in the stewing pot and I wouldn't mind, so he can go ahead and jump into the cabin and demand his pants back or search around the cabins. Maybe there's some kind of larder where they keep pants in food storage.
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Tikanni Corazon
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| Posted: Fri Dec 18, 2009 11:27 am Post subject: |
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Great SG Stoaty!
I think Lia should work for the reindeer for a while. Though he seems to be a bit of a miserable git, he doesn't seem totally unfriendly. So mabye she could find out a few things from him.
As for Sammy, if I was Lia, I'd ask the reindeer to help to look for him, then tie him up in a sack, and hang the sack up in a really high tree. He is such a pain in the arse, I'd just want him safely out of the way!
And that trick does work. I know from personal experience!
No, I'm just kidding! Or am I? 
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Smee
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| Posted: Fri Dec 18, 2009 3:31 pm Post subject: |
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Excellent chapter, Stoaty, I enjoy several hearty chuckles, especially at the badger!
Lia I think isn't going to be interested in any hard labour, as has already been mentioned. I think, given the strangeness of what's happening, she'll subconsciously fall back on her training as an accountant, and declare herself here for an audit, demanding the Rudolph unload the cart himself and be quick about it, she doesn't have all day.
Sammy is going to think it's an excellent plan, given his recent experiences, to head up to the door, knock assertively, and then declare himself a policeman investigating a theft.
As the door opens and he reaches for his wallet in his trouser pocket, to flash it failingly as a police badge, he's going to then remember what had been stolen, doh! If only his squirrel friends had reminded him.
Happy Writing
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Chinaren
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| Posted: Sun Dec 20, 2009 3:17 am Post subject: |
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Nice chapter Stoast!
Well, I can't really add anything to the suggestions already made. Lia may as well stay on, but as Smee said, give herself a promotion!
And knocking on the door is the way to go for Sammy, maybe asking if they'd seen any miscreant with an extra pair of pants recently!
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Mon Dec 21, 2009 9:17 am Post subject: |
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Poll's up for Sammy. Vote or he dies! (Lebby, come back here right now!) 
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Chinaren
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| Posted: Mon Dec 21, 2009 4:36 pm Post subject: |
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| Thunderbird wrote: | | Ho ho... broke a tie! |
Ha! I'll see you break and raise another tie!
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Lebrenth
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| Posted: Mon Dec 21, 2009 4:46 pm Post subject: |
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| Shady Stoat wrote: | | Poll's up for Sammy. Vote or he dies! (Lebby, come back here right now!) |
Only because I want to see what trouble Sammy gets into. You can count on me to sabotage Sammy at every opportunity!
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Tue Dec 22, 2009 2:06 am Post subject: |
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I can work with that as a voting concept Lebs. Bring it on
And remember, even the lowliest worm has the capacity to churn silk out of its bottom. Sammy may yet turn out to have all the potential of that worm
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Lebrenth
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| Posted: Tue Dec 22, 2009 10:05 am Post subject: Sammy the Snitch |
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| Shady Stoat wrote: | I can work with that as a voting concept Lebs. Bring it on
And remember, even the lowliest worm has the capacity to churn silk out of its bottom. Sammy may yet turn out to have all the potential of that worm |
That's true, and they can also become the wonderful product at this link: Sammy
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Thu Dec 24, 2009 1:38 am Post subject: |
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Right. Sammy's going to knock on the door and demand reshpeckt. And his trousers. And a ladle full of that delicious smelling stuff as well while you're at it. And maybe a bit of what that young goat's having... or maybe not.
Next poll's up over Christmas. What will our fair Lia do next? All yours ladies and gents.
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Judge Frollo
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| Posted: Thu Dec 24, 2009 7:39 am Post subject: |
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Delightfully mad, I like it.
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Thu Dec 24, 2009 8:20 am Post subject: |
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| Thanks Frollo - and welcome to the asylum
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Lebrenth
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| Posted: Thu Dec 24, 2009 10:23 am Post subject: |
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I like the idea of using Lia's talents. She's accustomed to working with difficult ... people, but I'm sure there isn't too much difference between a homicidal mobster and a talking reindeer.
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D-Lotus
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| Posted: Wed Dec 30, 2009 7:30 pm Post subject: |
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I thoroughly enjoyed reading this story, Stoat. I think the best parts are all the funny descriptions of smells, sights, and sounds which make the story quirky and slightly surreal but worth a good chuckle. The archetypical Abbot and Costello characters are also quite amusing and provide a great foil for each other, as well as some snappy, fun conversation. Personally I dislike that they have been separated from each other-- I hope they will be reunited soon. What a great read.
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Wed Dec 30, 2009 11:23 pm Post subject: |
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| Thanks D. Glad you could join us
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Mon Jan 04, 2010 3:47 am Post subject: |
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Christmas is over, writing begins. It looks like Lia is going to dazzle the reindeer with her accountancy skills *rubs hands in glee*
Chapter 3 on the way soon (ish)
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Thu Jan 07, 2010 9:25 am Post subject: |
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Chapter Three: Soup and Coffee
Pride or food? Sammy's stomach rumbled. Okay, no contest there.
Trousers or pride? Could you even have one without the other? He doubted it.
Food and trousers and pride?
Now that sounded more like it. Sammy tottered back around to the front of the cabin, his mouth set in a line of firm and stupid determination. He raised a hand to knock at the door, lost his balance, stumbled back a few paces and windmilled his arms like the world's last dodo trying to escape the cookpot. Somehow he managed to stay upright and tried again. This time he was rewarded with a solid rap on the door.
A few seconds later, it opened. He drew himself upright.
"A man has a right," he said, poking his finger toward the goat in front of him, "to demand..." he paused. "... food. I mean... trousers. A man has a right to cover his legs. You... you goat-faced goat... are nothing but a thief who steals things that belong to other people that rightfully own them! You stole my trousers. My dignity. My pride. My... my dignity. That's what it's all about. If you don't have dignity... you don't have anything." He ignored the small voice within – the voice that was telling him that if that was true, he was really sunk – and pressed on regardless. Another phrase clung to the sticky recesses of his mind. "My human rights have been violated. Violated! I demand compensation. I want food. And... and... a place to sit down. And more food. And I want my trousers back! Reshpeckt, sir, that is what I demand! And I will not settle for less."
The goat peered at him, and the air became still between them. Then:
"Daaaad!" he bellowed over his shoulder, "I think it's for you!"
Sammy blinked hard. The goat in front of him disappeared, to be replaced by a larger, more solid model. Despite a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he took a deep breath.
"Listen," he said. "A man has a right to legs... and to cover his food... and violation of his dignified lefts... I mean rights... I mean..." he gave up. The moment was gone. "Where are my trousers?"
"Oh," said the goat. "It's you. Well, you'd better come in, I suppose."
The goat man gestured and Sammy stumbled inside. He sat down on one of the stools before he could fall over, aware of at least seven pairs of eyes watching him.
"Why" spoke a voice that could have put the edge on razor blades, "have you invited that human into our home, Binny?"
"Sorry, my love, my sweet, it's just that he..."
"Yes?" With a single slice of a word, the pert-breasted goat woman silenced her husband. He looked down at the cabin floor.
"He stole my trousers!" Sammy piped up, and then leaned back in his seat against the force of the she-goat's stare.
"Is this true?"
"Not so much stole. Not really. Just... borrowed, my sweet," mumbled Binny, his skin turning an uncomfortable-looking red.
"I see. You borrowed them. And you were going to give them back when? After we'd eaten our trouser soup?"
"Trouser soup?" Sammy clutched the table as he stared at the cauldron. "You put my trousers in that pot? That's outrageous!"
"Indeed," snapped the she-goat. "Who knows what germs you've got all over them!" With Sammy cowed, she turned back to her husband. "Binny Tum'n'Ass, you promised you'd foraged those trousers from natural resources! I should have known you wouldn't be capable. Should have suspected you'd lie to me! To your family! You're nothing but a low-down, no-good sneaking, slinking..."
"Natural resources?" Binny's voice had risen, high and desperate. "What, you think trousers grow on trees?"
"They did in the old land!"
"Not here, Nan! Not here." Binny ran a hand through his mane of wild hair. "Look, I'm sorry. I just saw a perfectly good pair of trousers and I thought... well, what did you expect me to do? I've got a wife and six kids to feed! Would you rather be eating from the popcorn bushes? Or seeing the little ones popping handfuls of snow into their mouths? I had no choice!"
"Let me just get this straight," said Sammy. "You put my trousers in the soup? You were actually going to eat my trousers?" He was feeling a little sick – at least as much from the fact that he was still as hungry for the soup as he'd been before he knew the ingredients. He imagined he could even smell the faint aroma of three bean burrito coming out of the steam-pot. On the other hand, that might just be lingering from his boxers. Better not to mention it, just in case.
"I saved some," replied Binny. "For breakfast," he added, shamefacedly. "You can have them back if you like."
His wife glared at him. Nevertheless, she produced a bundle from the cubby behind her chair and held it up for Sammy to see.
He stared. And grimaced. What was left of his trousers looked more like brown corduroy bermuda shorts now. He leaned forward to take them, aware of a weight on his foot as one of the little goats clung to his leg, gurgling with delight.
"Take them and get out," Nan said.
Sammy struggled into the shortened version of his trousers again, blushing as two of the kids giggled in one of the corners. "Uhh... don't you have anything to eat that isn't trouser related?" tried Sammy, as his stomach gurgled in impressive five-part harmony.
"What do we look like – a home for snow-eating morons?" she snarled.
"You really shouldn't get involved in that stuff," said Binny, sounding apologetic.
Sammy blinked. "You mean you don't? But man, it's all around you. It's everywhere! How come you all aren't raging junkies?"
"Junkies?"
"You know, addicts!" Sammy's stomach gave a distinct pyoioioioing!!! and he winced.
Binny's brows furrowed. "It isn't addictive, human. And it might taste good for a while – it might even feel great – but it rushes through your system like pupu root and comes out the other end like glue. You wouldn't catch me taking so much as a sniff of it!"
"Ah." Another horrible protestation arose from his stomach and he began to sweat. He was suddenly aware that, just as the delightful haze of narcotics was fading from his brain, the dreadful volcano of gas was beginning to build up in his bowels.
"Do you guys have a bathroom I could use?" he asked, his face a bright mask of perspiration.
~
"Well?" Came the peevish voice from the wagon.
Lia made a decision. She was on her own. Well, it wasn't the first time, it wouldn't be the last. The most important thing now was to take advantage of the situation.
"Do I look like a grunt to you?" she snapped. "Unload them yourself. I need to inspect the cargo."
"Inspect the cargo?" The reindeer cocked its head, antlers askew, making it look like the world's most drunken hatstand.
"Surprise audit," she said, drawing herself upright.
"Nobody told me."
"That pretty much covers the word 'surprise'," she fired. "Now get unloading. And shut that dwarf up!"
"... this vehicle is reversing... this vehicle is reversing... this veh... urk!
A swift blow with the butt of the whip sent the jingling dwarf sprawling onto the path. A second later, the wheels of the wagon rolled over him, crushing his body as he yowled and screamed. Finally, his body went limp and he fell silent.
Lia felt bile rise up in her throat. She hadn't seen anything that callous and inhuman since the Shark's last birthday do.
"What?" demanded the reindeer. "It's only a dwarf! Plenty more at the depot."
"Wh... Uhh..."
With a final crack of the whip, he brought the wagon to a stop.
"Look," he said, his voice assuming an almost kindly tone. "You're new here. That much is obvious. So here's a word of advice. Don't go up against the corporation. You'll end up in worse shape than the reverse-dwarf. It's bigger than me, and it's definitely bigger than you. Got it?"
Lia dragged her eyes away from the dwarf-kill. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Audit? Please! Everyone knows the Swamp-Biggles deal with the corporation's financial business." The reindeer sniffed. "You're certainly not a Swamp-Biggle. You smell way too good for that. You're just a human – and we all know what happens to humans around here."
Lia didn't like the sound of that. It was time to get back some of the momentum she'd lost.
"Look," she said. "I may not be an official auditor, but if there's one thing I do know about, it's corporations and employees. Chances are they're ripping you off, and you don't even see it. For example, the company employs you, yes?"
"Well, of course."
"And is this their wagon, or yours?"
"It's mine – but I really don't see..."
Lia nodded an clicked her tongue. "Just as I thought. You know, I'll just bet you're not claiming for wear and tear on your vehicle?"
"Uhh..."
"Do you have a contract?"
"A contract?"
"I thought not. Then wagon wear and tear is up for negotiation. And if they refuse, it'll be a matter for the union to sort out."
"Union?"
"We'll come to that later," she waved it away with one hand. "Trust me, they'll crumble."
"Wagon wear and tear." The reindeer's nose wrinkled. "You know, that dwarf left an awful mess on my rear wheel. I'll have to have it cleaned. Maybe even replaced. All out of my own pocket."
"Exactly." Lia tried to keep the triumph from her face. "And the whip. The harnesses. All yours?"
"Yeah." The petulant note was back in the reindeer's voice now. "Do you reckon they'll pay to have the whip cleaned too? I've got dwarf blood all over it!"
"Absolutely. And we haven't even got into pension plans, stock options, health insurance..."
"Right! Some of those dwarves have diseases! You think I could get hazard pay too?"
Lia paused. This creature had a one-track mind. Still, when in crazy land, you might as well nod and smile until you found your way to the nearest source of strait-jackets.
"Hazard pay," she said. "Sure. Why not!"
"You know," said the reindeer, "you could actually be onto something. Tell you what – the other wagon will be along any minute. It's late already. If you like, I can put in a good word for you and the driver will give you a lift to the corporation. And then, if they like you, maybe you could come back to the depot some time. I'm sure the other lads will be very interested in what you've got to say."
Lia hesitated. She'd been looking for a way to turn this state of affairs to her advantage – but was this really it? If this corporation was as big and ugly as the reindeer claimed, she wasn't even sure she wanted to run into it, never mind talking to 'the boys' afterwards. Then there was Sammy, back in the snow somewhere, probably getting himself into all manner of trouble.
Still, Sammy was like a rubber ball. Whack him and he bounced right back. He'd survive. And, really, if this world had anything to offer, maybe the corporation was her chance to get right into it.
A faint sound of rumbling wagon was coming from the distance. She made her choice.
"Why not," she said. "I've got nowhere else to be."
~
The phone rang. Morris snatched it up.
"Yes?" He listened, then nodded. "Right. Keep on it, just in case."
Putting the phone back on his belt, he walked down the corridor, each footfall uncommonly loud against the mosaiced floor. The hallway was silent and watchful, almost as if unseen faces viewed him from vantages invisible to him. Come to think of it, that was probably true. There'd be cameras everywhere. And easily washable stone tiles and walls, in case blood needed to be shed.
Shivering slightly, he crossed the hall and knocked on the oak door opposite.
"Enter."
Morris took a deep breath and went in. "Sir," he said. "The auction house is empty. The police are gone."
"Ahh," said the Shark. "The dogs have not found their bone. Very well."
"Yes Sir. And if you need anything else, Sir, just call."
"Morris?"
"Yes?"
"Yoohoo."
Morris blinked. He cocked his head.
"That," said the Shark, "was me calling."
"S-sir?"
"I do need you, Morris. You will be accompanying me to the auction house."
"Yes Sir. Of course Sir. But – why?"
"Because two pairs of eyes are better than one. Because you're already here, and already fully apprised of the situation. Because, if the police decide to show their faces again, it might be useful to have someone by my side who can talk fast and think faster. Because bodies are the proverbial bitch to dispose of single-handedly. And, son, because I asked you to. Any questions?"
Morris gulped. "No Sir," he squeaked.
Together, they entered the limousine on the front drive. There was no trace of blood on the windscreen or the upholstery, and the chauffeur looked too bright and perky to have worked with the Shark for long. Morris looked out the car window at the passing scenery and tried not to think of things red and splattery.
Being almost midnight, the traffic was nonexistent. They arrived at the auction house less than fifteen minutes later. The parking lot was deserted. A couple of faint security lights were weak additions to the full moon above.
Full moon. At midnight. Great. Just the perfect time to be going into a creepy warehouse with a psychopath in tow. He might as well put on a cheerleader outfit and wait for the nearest chainsaw to start up.
"Morris?"
The lawyer yelped and rubbed his head, where it had hit the car roof. He fumbled with the seat belt, wishing he dared to tell the Shark not to creep up on him like that. Somehow, while he'd been dreaming, his boss had got out of the limo, walked around the back of it, opened up Morris's side door and prodded him on the arm. There was no sign of impatience on the Shark's lean face, but then there never was. It didn't stop Morris's heart from pattering like a troupe of drunken tap dancers.
He stumbled out of the car and followed the Shark to the auction house. One locked door later and they were inside. With the lights on, the lawyer's fear somehow subsided. This was more like it. More normal. At least until they found those two traitors. Then the Shark's fun – and Morris's therapy bills – would begin.
"Have your men been watching the building?" asked the Shark.
"Of course."
"Are they watching it still?"
"Yes Sir."
"Then nobody has got in – or out? You are certain of that?"
Certain. It was such a... contractual... word. So final. So condemning if he was wrong.
Morris grimaced. "Yes Sir. They're still here. They must be."
"Yes." Incredibly, the Shark inhaled. "I can smell them."
Was his boss crazy for talking that way? Or was Morris crazy for actually believing it? Resolving not to think too deeply about it, the lawyer followed in the Shark's wake.
They looked under tables. They searched in the gaps between bookshelves. They opened every cubby and drawer as they went. But it was obvious they were heading toward the place that the camera had shown those two unfortunate employees hiding.
Within minutes, they were there. The Shark raised a well-manicured finger to his lips and grinned a gold-toothed grin. Then he closed his eyes and inhaled one more time. Nodding to himself, his eyes snapped open at the same time as he flung open the wardrobe doors.
"Ow! Bloody hell!" Morris held both hands over his nose and tried to hold back the pounding pain of a wardrobe door hitting him in the face. His eyes watered and he prodded carefully, trying to work out whether the nose was broken or not.
The Shark raised his eyebrows. "Do try not to get in my way, my boy. You might get hurt."
Through clenched teeth, Morris ground out, "Yes Sir."
"Come here."
He stumbled forward, reluctantly.
"What do you see?" asked the Shark, pointing at the wardrobe.
"Umm... an empty wardrobe?"
"And yet..." The Shark sniffed again. "They are here. Get inside."
"P-pardon?"
"Must I repeat myself?"
I wish you wouldn't. He didn't say it though. He just padded into the wardrobe's interior and tried not to whimper as the doors shut him in. He's always hated enclosed spaces. Ever since the Eton Chess Club had made him play pairs-hide-and-seek with Lenny the Lech. As darkness enclosed him, he found his back pressing against the wood of the cabinet, and heard the sound of his own panting, echoing back on him from all sides. Then, suddenly, there was no wood against his back and he was stumbling, falling...
... onto cold, hard ice.
He looked around and shrieked in a tone that would have made a concert soprano proud. On either side of him was a polar bear, rearing up with snarling mouths and great claws at the ready. His hands and feet moved, pushing him backwards. But the floor was slippery and he was already sat down. He went nowhere, and the polar bears loomed, silent and still.
Still?
He took a closer look and gasped. They weren't bears. They were statues – made of ice. Huge, crystalline models, carved by someone who either had genius or way too much time on his hands.
Even though he knew – he absolutely, positively knew that they weren't real, he still couldn't move. He could only stare, his gaze locked on those powerful jaws, until a voice broke him out of his reverie.
"Well well. What do we have here?"
The Shark had found him. Morris didn't know whether to be delighted or even more horrified than before.
~
“Daaaaad! He's been in the outhouse for two hours now!”
“I know, son.”
“But I want to go!”
“Look - just go in the forest, okay?”
“I don't want to go in the forest!”
“Binny Tum'n'Ass, you get that human out of our privy, right now!”
“Yes, my sweet.”
There was a knock at the door. Sammy looked up from between strands of his sweat-dampened fringe.
“Look - man – you have to get out. I'm sorry about your trousers and all, but this is too much!”
“Is he gone yet?”
“No, my love, but...”
“Can't you even do one simple thing without me? Just break down the door!”
“You don't want to do that.” Sammy was surprised by the hoarse croak his voice had become. Grimacing, he stood up, using the walls as supports. “Brace yourselves.”
He unlocked the outhouse door and pushed it open. The goat man and surrounding young ones all stepped backward, as one.
“I've changed my mind,” said the kid, wrinkling his face up. “I'll go in the woods.”
He trotted off. Sam walked out on wobbly legs and brushed the hair back from his face. His head felt clear now. His stomach felt like there was a civil war going on in there. And his mind? Well, he was still trying to get it around the fact that he was in a wardrobe-world, talking to mutants who thought trousers were part of their five-a-day! I mean, yeah, goats were supposed to eat anything, but...
“Look,” he said to Tum'n'Ass, “you owe me an explanation.”
“I-”
“Binny! Have you got through that door yet?”
“Dad, I'm hungry!”
“Dad, I'm bored!”
“Daaaaddeeeeee!”
The goat man looked around, a trapped expression on his face.
“Let's walk,” he said. “I'll answer your questions... but not here. Okay?”
“Fine.” Heading off at a ginger pace, the two of them put some distance between themselves and the cabin.
“What do you want to know?” asked the goat-man at last. “And make it quick!”
Too many questions, too little time. Sammy opened his mouth, unsure of what he was going to say until the words emerged...
~
"How long until we get there?"
It was the first question Lia had managed to inject into the conversation. The new wagon driver – some sort of silvery ferret creature – a stoat, perhaps – was a champion talker. They'd been driving for twenty minutes now, and the word-to-breath ratio was truly remarkable.
"Not long now, Missus, not long. 'Course you can't see through the mist on these roads, don't know what the authorities are up to, all this mist, turrible driving conditions, why only last week I got lost at the junction south of Cor's Crossin', took me two hours to find the right road again, had to replace two of me best dwarfs AND re-grease the suspension on me wagon, and then me shipment was late and ... oh, will you just look at what that one's gone and done now!"
Grumbling to himself, the weasel creature halted the wagon and slipped down from the driver's seat.
"Well, don't just sit there. Hand me the bags!"
Lia blinked. Following the line of the pointing finger, she pulled out a handful of bright orange tight-weave sacks from the crack between two wood-planks, and threw them down to the wagon driver. The creature caught one, stumbling back as it was almost as large as he was. Grumbling, he knelt down and began to scoop up a patch of something solid and malodorous on the path.
"You see what they make us do now?" moaned the stoat. "We've only gotta clean up after these flamin' creatures! They do the dirty in the middle of the road, suddenly us drivers are on us hands'n'knees pickin' up whoopsie off the ground. Does that sound fair to you? No it does not! Flamin' Dwarf and Safety regulations!"
"Uhh... Dwarf and Safety regulations?"
"Aye. It didn't used to be like this y'know." The ferret slunk back into his seat, hauling a knotted bag in its wake. "Back when we had different wagon-teams, there was none of this regulation muckery. Then that lot became extinct and we had to use dwarves instead. Suddenly it's 'mind you feed em' this and 'gotta give em legal amounts of rest' that, and business is right down the pan before you know it."
"You made a race extinct?" Somehow, Lia had been expecting more from this place. Its fairy-tale settings – even with the narcotic snow and the meat-and-two-veg trouser robbers – had taken her in. Somewhere along the line, there should have been stallion-riding Princes, and girls who danced through the forests, attracting small rodents with the sound of their ukelele-playing, and things like that. Not the same sort of crap that went on in her own world, with slavery and mega-corporations, and genocide! She felt a pang of disappointment, even as she mentally thwacked herself for being a stupid idealist.
"Only one, Missus," replied the stoat, sounding defensive. "Only the elves."
"So you had Dwarf and Safety, but never any..." she groaned. She wasn't going to say it. Wasn't even going to think it!
"When will we get there?" she repeated.
"Right... about... now." The weasel cracked the whip and the wagon began a laborious turn. Bells began to jingle, and this time the familiar refrain of "this vehicle is reversing..." was met by a number of figures emerging from the mist.
As they came closer to the wagon, Lia noticed they were all human. She found herself smiling, more in relief than true happiness. It was nice to be reminded that normality existed. If not here, then at least somewhere.
And then the reindeer's word came back to her.
We all know what happens to humans around here.
As they proceeded with unloading the cargo, she got a closer look. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with them. Sure, they were all dressed the same – in red shirts and black trousers, with peaked caps on. And yeah, none of them smiled. But they seemed to be getting a way better deal than those poor sods of dwarves on the wagon!
"Well, this is it, Missus," said the weasel-thing. "Time for me to be off. I've gotta get over to the fort by nightfall, and these dwarves'll want bedding up with a soft blanket and a bleedin' cuddly toy no doubt. Dwarf and safety indeed! I'll give 'em dwarf and safety."
"Is this it?" asked Lia, peering through the mist. "Is this the corporation?"
"Local branch. Just follow the workers, you'll be fine. See you next time... if you make it."
And with that cheery remark, the stoat cracked his whip and sent the dwarves trotting off again. Lia found herself alone in the mist, with only the faint outlines of humans on one side and the faint shape of a wagon on the other.
Not seeing any other choice, she followed the road in the direction of the crate-carrying humans. For fifty paces or so, there was nothing but road, mist and turquoise grass. Then the shape of a building began to emerge from the fog. It was large, but certainly no sky-scraper. Lia hurried toward it, straining to see more details.
There it was. The orange brick facade, the soft light spilling out from large, square windows... the green-painted sills and guttering, and the shape of lettering, high on the front face, above the shadowy shape of the door.
So this was the corporation. Lia stopped, her eyes scrambling to make sense of the letters as they finally emerged from the mist.
For a moment, she forgot to breathe. Then the air rushed from her body, along with a single word.
"Starbucks???"
=====
The DP is for Sammy: What is upmost in his mind now? What question/questions does he most want to ask of Tum'n'Ass?
And Lia: Now that she knows more about what's going on, what's she going to do next?
Suggest away. Have fun. Create chaos. I'll be the one in the corner, curled up into a fetal ball, sobbing quietly
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Smee
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| Posted: Thu Jan 07, 2010 11:43 am Post subject: |
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*giggles, mutters elf 'n safety to himself, and giggles again*
I'll be back with a proper comment at another time.
Happy Writing
_________________
The path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the Devil's own Satanic Herd!
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Thunderbird
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| Posted: Thu Jan 07, 2010 7:43 pm Post subject: |
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Well, Sammy should be getting some history on the place, the lowdown on its inhabitants and where he might be able to acquire new trousers.
Certainly Lia should just keep to the path and find out more about the Starbucks corp... approach with caution.
_________________
CHAPTER 25: Near-Light Speed (NEW CHAPTER! (12/4/2011))
Zephyrrr! And...
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scissorkitty
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| Posted: Thu Jan 07, 2010 8:03 pm Post subject: |
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Awesome! ((i agree... "elf and safety"! EXCELLENT!))
Sammy: needs a drink of water, or whatever beverage is around, and some answers. He's going to ask where this land is- the name of it- and how it came to be attached to the wardrobe.
Lia: Order a hazelnut mocha latte, non-fat, hold the whip, with chocolate sprinkles. And perhaps one of those good chewy gingerbread molasses cookies (unless this land uses REAL mole-asses.).. or continue her charade and enter the staff area as a Worker's Health and Safety Liason, and try and ask a human for info on the Company.
_________________
......back and forth.....
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Crunchyfrog
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| Posted: Fri Jan 08, 2010 4:32 am Post subject: |
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Haha, 'elf and safety!
Some excellent comedic writing there, brilliant stuff!
Right ho. Well, we never did find out where they do harvest those trousers from. The Nanny-goat said that trousers grow on trees in the old land. So I think Sammy will ask directions to the old land.
For Lia - well she's going to welcome human company and she needs to know what happens to humans so that she can be prepared for the worst.
But she's alone in the mist, with the faint shape of humans on one side and the faint shape of a wagon on the other.
Your use of the indefinite article suggests that this is not the wagon that is being pulled off into the distance, but another, unknown one.
I wonder if this is the wagon the humans are loading or unloading the crates from.
I'm going to suggest the not-so-obvious - and investigate the wagon.
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Tikanni Corazon
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| Posted: Sat Jan 09, 2010 12:17 am Post subject: |
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Great chapter Stoat!
For Lia, I'd say talk to the humans, before doing anything rash. You don't go into the belly of the beast without knowing what you're getting yourself into. She should be able to blend in with them well enough, just to root out a little info.
As for Sammy, same sort of thing. Just try and find out more about the strange land that they are in, and what they have got themselves into. Though mabye, he would benefit from a babysitter of some kind! A stoat perhaps?
_________________
.... there is no religion without love, and people may talk as much as they like about their religion, but if it does not teach them to be good and kind to man and beast, it is all a sham....
Black Beauty by Anna Sewell, 1887
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The White Blacksmith
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| Posted: Sat Jan 09, 2010 10:23 am Post subject: |
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Well, for Sammy I would say ask why he hasn't seen any other humans around. Questions about where this land is and how it became attached to the wardrobe and suchlike aren't going to get any good answers - imagine if a dwarf or something came up to you in the street and asked how this land got attached to a wardrobe. Tum'N'Ass isn't likely to know even of the existance of our world, so try to ask something which might not seem too out of place, while getting as much info as possible.
For Lia, I would say sneak around the building. Climb up the outside and break into an office or something - it doesn't sound like a human wandering into reception and bossing people about will be well recieved, and the humans aren't likely to know much beyond what they do and who they answer to. She needs to know a lot of things, and the high-ups might have the answers.
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Tea Cures All.
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D-Lotus
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| Posted: Sun Jan 10, 2010 3:17 am Post subject: |
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Another entertaining chapter, but I am not getting a strong impression of this weird world. I feel as though there needs to be something defining about the landscape, something suggestive which will imprint upon the reader's imagination a sense or organic completeness. The snow that is cocaine is a good beginning and it illustrates the picture clearly in my mind, but you need more. The elements in this world are disconnected. They are fractured because the only thing that holds them together is their strangeness. I get more of a sense of perceiving an environment that has shape but not form. What made Lewis' story great, I think, is that it all fit into place and held up rather well. The unifying element in your tale, at least descriptively speaking, is lacking in my opinion, although I am aware that this is more about a good laugh than anything else. On the other hand, it's rather late as I write this, and I might have not read very attentively. Nonetheless, that is my immediate perception after reading your latest chapter, for whatever it's worth.
The good news is that the characters, at least the two protagonists, are fleshed out and interesting. I'd prefer them to be together, but you are handling the separation decently. For the DP, to put myself in the brother's mind: I think that because of his nature and his incapability to think for himself, he would cling to people for help. Thus, I would think that he'd see our man-goat as a possible friend. The questions he would ask would vary from: "Did you know that when you found me I had just fallen there from a wardrobe in another world?" to "Do you know where my sister is?" or even the classic "Where am I?"
Whatever he asks, I think he won't let the goat go, he'd feel too insecure left alone, at least at this point.
His sister, on the other hand, is more cunning. She sees this new world as an opportunity to make money. Hell, she would have quite a business just by selling all that free coke back in her world for exorbitant prices. Who know, maybe snow is crack in this world, and she'd make profit as a middle woman. Anyway, before she rushes into anything I think she'd be sneaky and try to infiltrate the corporation to find out what's going on. Just like she was sneaky when she worked for the Shark.
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Chinaren
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| Posted: Sun Jan 10, 2010 4:16 am Post subject: |
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Catched up I have, and it was a wonderful chapter, Stoaty even!
I say Lia stays in character, as such as it is, and march in there and demand a latte.
Mind you, I dread to think what they use for money.
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Shady Stoat
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Strata-gems
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| Posted: Sat Jan 16, 2010 12:17 pm Post subject: |
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| First part of the poll's up. Decide Lia's fate, if you please. And if you don't... I might cry
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Shady Stoat
Elder
Joined: 02 Oct 2005
Posts: 2950
Location: England
Items
Legends
Fables
Strata-gems
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| Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2010 3:20 am Post subject: |
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Lia will go searching for Colonel Mustard in the conservatory with the candlestick... or something like that. She'll sneak around and find out what she can anyway.
As for Sammy, what question is foremost on his mind? Your choice, as always.
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Crunchyfrog
Honorable IFian
Joined: 12 Dec 2006
Posts: 3998
Items
Legends
Fables
Strata-gems
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| Posted: Mon Mar 08, 2010 2:23 am Post subject: |
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10 votes! When's the next chapter coming?
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Masterweaver
Honored Citizen
Joined: 21 Nov 2006
Posts: 1463
Location: Look around
Items
Legends
Fables
Strata-gems
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| Posted: Tue Aug 17, 2010 5:15 pm Post subject: |
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Broke the tie, and I want Sammy to have a breakdown.
As for Lia, I suggest she do the SENSIBLE thing, and steal a history book.
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Ingrothechundyer
Royal Arch-Mage
Joined: 22 Aug 2010
Posts: 484
Location: Wandering the streets of IF since 10/21/2005
Items
Legends
Fables
Strata-gems
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| Posted: Sun Aug 22, 2010 8:59 am Post subject: |
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I was extremely temped to tie it again but...
I'm looking forward to seeing more of this crazy world.
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| What's the question burning on Sammy's lips? |
| Who else lives around here - and for the love of god, why? |
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23% |
[ 3 ] |
| Why do you all live in the back of a wardrobe? |
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7% |
[ 1 ] |
| Where can I find me a good tree harvest? And what's this about the old land? |
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15% |
[ 2 ] |
| I want history! Wars, Kings, major disasters, annual rainfall. Tell me everything! |
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0% |
[ 0 ] |
| Why is everyone in this land a freak? Sorry, I mean, where are the other humans? |
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15% |
[ 2 ] |
| No questions. Just stay with me, I can't handle this alone! |
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30% |
[ 4 ] |
| Stoaty's corner, do not pass go, do not collect £200 |
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7% |
[ 1 ] |
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| Total Votes : 13 |
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