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Solomon Birch
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 Posted: Mon Feb 06, 2006 5:13 am Post subject: |
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No, but I created a tie at the moment. 
That's what counts 
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Thesopholis - A Noir Sci-Fi Story - Chapter 8 is up! Read it here
The End of the Voyage - Chapter 9
Shady the Furry Goblin! [Demon's, Satan and Slobadan Milosevic!] - Chapter 3
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| Posted: Tue Feb 07, 2006 1:45 am Post subject: |
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Yes, me very bad.... 
Must go eat soil now.... 
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"Humankind cannot stand too much reality" - T.S. Elliot
Thesopholis - A Noir Sci-Fi Story - Chapter 8 is up! Read it here
The End of the Voyage - Chapter 9
Shady the Furry Goblin! [Demon's, Satan and Slobadan Milosevic!] - Chapter 3
The Quest for the Legendary Rubber-Duckie! - Chapter 3
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Green Eyes - Chapter 5
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Tue Feb 07, 2006 2:28 am Post subject: |
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Oooh, misread p.m. as a.m.
There's another 12 hours to wait on this poll 
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Mother Goose
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| Posted: Tue Feb 07, 2006 12:48 pm Post subject: |
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| I'll break the tie!
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Wed Feb 08, 2006 1:48 am Post subject: |
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Thanks, Mother Goose!
'Theme' wins it. Narrowly. I'll get scribbling...
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| Posted: Wed Feb 08, 2006 3:29 am Post subject: |
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Yay! My first vote in this SG won! I'm....so pround
*sob* I'd like to thank my mum, my sister and all my fans........
Wow.... What the hell was that....? I sincerely apologise for that outburst..... I have no idea what came over me.....
*wanders off looking worried*
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"Humankind cannot stand too much reality" - T.S. Elliot
Thesopholis - A Noir Sci-Fi Story - Chapter 8 is up! Read it here
The End of the Voyage - Chapter 9
Shady the Furry Goblin! [Demon's, Satan and Slobadan Milosevic!] - Chapter 3
The Quest for the Legendary Rubber-Duckie! - Chapter 3
One Last Bullet.... Chapter 3
Green Eyes - Chapter 5
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| Posted: Wed Feb 08, 2006 7:24 am Post subject: |
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CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Hell Hath No Fury…
Lenny was trying his best to forget that he had just Frenched his own Mother. It wasn’t easy, though, with the image of her standing in front of him like that. She had the same quiet smile, the same tilt to her head, the same way of standing, even the same exquisite knees!
With difficulty, he dragged his gaze away and focussed intently upon the envelopes instead. Theme. Activity. Sight-Seeing. Which one would a lizard shape-shifter go for?
He released a grateful breath as she snatched for the silhouette of the cowboy and the dinosaur. Theme! Great! He had been dreading that one!
“This one looks like fun,” lilted Contestant Two. She began to open the envelope at the same time as the voice-over leapt into action again.
“Anasia Slew, you have won an exciting date in HellWorld – the first entirely Demon-run Theme Park. Visit the Eternal Flame-Pits and see the tortured souls roasting there. Take a tour around the Crypt Labyrinths and take your chances against what lies within. See the world’s biggest collection of torture implements at the Museum of Suffering. Ride on the Mighty Scythe of Death, or take a Handbasket to Hell. Then afterwards, you can watch the Virtual Apocalypse Show, while dining at Spiderbob’s Barbecue Palace. There’s no shortage of good roasting in HellWorld! Thank you for playing… Intergalactic, Inter-dimensional Buh-liiiiiind Date!”
Before the shape-shifter could respond, a litany of complaint rose from the other side of the partition.
“HellWorld? HellWorld?? How can some jumped-up reptile possibly enjoy HellWorld? It’s not even like she’s a salamander! I’ve been trying to get a ticket for that place for months and you’re telling me that she’s queue-jumped herself a double-date there? Make her pick another date, give that one to someone who can truly appreciate it. I’m telling you…”
The Producer gave a nod to the grey-green ogre thing in the wings. It immediately clomped out of site. Lenny had a dreadful idea that he knew what was about to happen.
He was entirely wrong, as circumstances would have it. After a few more sentences of incessant complaining, there was a sudden change in Contestant Three’s tone.
“Try to touch me, would you? You miserable slug-smear, let’s see how you like this! And this! Annnnd…. this!”
The audience howled its delight, stamping and cheering… and ducking out of their seats as a grey-green ogre came flying past the partition and into the midst of their seating. Lenny winced, knowing that, in a moment or two, he was going to have to get up-close-and-personal with whatever had just made the stage Bouncer do his best impression of a skimming-stone.
Contestant Three spoke again, its thunderous voice returning to normal tones. “If you try that again, I shall be very cross.”
As the ogre was picked up and carted away by the alien medical team, the crowd gradually seated and settled itself again. The lizard-woman (still stubbornly remaining in the form of Lenny’s mother) looked at the envelope and shrugged noncommittally.
“Oh well. It could be entertaining enough, I suppose. Pity I’m not going with you, sugar.”
With that, she blew him a final kiss and sauntered off the stage. Lenny’s relief was short-lived. With a gravity-defying effort, the Producer once more lifted his saggy features into a smile.
“And finally… come forward, Contestant Number Three!”
What appeared from behind the curtain was even worse than Lenny had imagined. In fact, his imagination, confronted with this vision of awfulness, promptly declared itself on strike, went to see its union leader and picketed the rest of his brain for extra danger-money.
It – she – was eight feet tall, at least. Her flesh was dark and wrinkly, like the leather on an old couch. A pair of gigantic wings sprouted from her shoulder blades. They were folded back on themselves, otherwise, it was doubtful whether she would have fitted past the partition. She was all sinew and tendon, with blood mottling the blackness of her flesh, and her face was that of the gargoyle whom other gargoyles referred to as ‘the ugly one’. Her hair was a, upon closer inspection, not hair at all, but a writhing mass of black worms, maggots and caterpillars. She stank of carrion and her eyes glowed dark crimson.
All clothing was completely absent. Although Lenny had often fantasized about seeing naked females in the flesh, he had always rather hoped it would be the girl of his dreams – not of his nightmares! He shuddered and tried not to look too closely; He had no intention of suffering from Post-Traumatic Flashbacks this early in his life!
To Lenny’s unutterable relief, the creature did no more than pay him the brief courtesy of a nod and an dismissive:
“Pleased to meet you.”
Then, her burning gaze fixed on the Producer.
He held out the two remaining envelopes. “Blight Mowlder, congratulations on surviving a round of the show. Two envelopes left. Yours to choose,” he said, jowls quivering. “Activity or Sight-Seeing.”
“Well, I don’t know,” she pondered, “Are either of them something to do with Opera?”
“You won’t know until you pick,” he said, jolliness oozing from every wrinkly pore.
Contestant Three moved eerily fast, gliding forwards, grabbing him by the shirt front and pulling him within breathing distance of her fetid breath, all within a heartbeat. Dozens of spikes rose abruptly from her flesh as she hissed into the cowed Producer’s face:
“Let me put it this way, filth! One of them had better be something to do with the Opera, otherwise I will eat your spleen for my afternoon snack. Do we understand each other?
Just as abruptly as she had transformed, she changed back. She gently placed the Producer back on his own patch of the stage and dusted off her leathery claws carefully.
“Oh, do excuse me.” she murmured, apologetically. “My temper tends to get the better of me at times.”
She examined the envelopes in the Producer’s now trembling hands.
“Now, which shall I choose?”
Last edited by Shady Stoat on Sat Feb 11, 2006 8:24 am; edited 2 times in total
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Idea master
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| Posted: Wed Feb 08, 2006 8:35 am Post subject: |
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Hehe.
I think that the more likely one to get her to an opera would be sight seeing.
Of course, I'm probably wrong...
And I love the idea of HellWorld! Good work Stoat!
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Ingrothechundyer
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| Posted: Wed Feb 08, 2006 9:49 am Post subject: |
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Hmm she'll probaly choose Sight-Seeing and demand a back stage pass to watch the rehersals 
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ethereal_fauna
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| Posted: Wed Feb 08, 2006 10:05 am Post subject: |
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Whew...we're gonna miss Hellworld. 
Go for the activity. Better chance at getting something she likes with that one.
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The maker of a sentence launches out into the infinite and builds a road into Chaos and old Night, and is followed by those who hear him with something of wild, creative delight. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
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Smee
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| Posted: Wed Feb 08, 2006 11:02 am Post subject: |
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Excellent
At the moment I'm glad we went for the appeal to the auidence - not exactly a trio of beauties you manifested there
However, that instantly makes me fear for what she'll be like. 
Back to the decision point...
If she is that desperate for Opera, then activity isn't the way to go.
She'll go for Sight-seeing and the producer will see that last minutes of his life flash by.
Happy Writing.
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| Posted: Wed Feb 08, 2006 4:45 pm Post subject: |
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Hellworld eh? There's a story just in that.
Ahh, I have forgotten the option details, so I will wait until the poll!
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| Posted: Wed Feb 08, 2006 9:40 pm Post subject: |
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Truly inventive, stoat.
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Solomon Birch
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| Posted: Thu Feb 09, 2006 5:35 am Post subject: |
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| Shady Stoat wrote: | | “Oh, do excuse me.” she murmured, apologetically. “My temper tends to get the better of me at times.” |
Sorry to point this out, but I think you meant to make this second bit of speech from the lovely demon lady red.
Great chapter Stoat, although you got Lordy moaning over the fact that she was an ugly demon (Personaly I thought that it was quite amusing).
I think that going for activity would have a higher chance of having something to do with opera, although both could really. She could do a little participation thing and sing along, killing everyone in the auditorium..... 
Can't wait for the next bit! :biggrin:
*holds breath*
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"Humankind cannot stand too much reality" - T.S. Elliot
Thesopholis - A Noir Sci-Fi Story - Chapter 8 is up! Read it here
The End of the Voyage - Chapter 9
Shady the Furry Goblin! [Demon's, Satan and Slobadan Milosevic!] - Chapter 3
The Quest for the Legendary Rubber-Duckie! - Chapter 3
One Last Bullet.... Chapter 3
Green Eyes - Chapter 5
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Thu Feb 09, 2006 5:38 am Post subject: |
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Thanks Soily. Fixed
Last mini-choice coming up. I'll put the poll up in a few hours, so if anyone has anything exciting or disturbing to say, get those comments in fast
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Solomon Birch
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| Posted: Thu Feb 09, 2006 6:43 am Post subject: |
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I think that [insert witty reply here]. Yeah, that would be cool....
.........What? WHAT? 
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"Humankind cannot stand too much reality" - T.S. Elliot
Thesopholis - A Noir Sci-Fi Story - Chapter 8 is up! Read it here
The End of the Voyage - Chapter 9
Shady the Furry Goblin! [Demon's, Satan and Slobadan Milosevic!] - Chapter 3
The Quest for the Legendary Rubber-Duckie! - Chapter 3
One Last Bullet.... Chapter 3
Green Eyes - Chapter 5
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Thu Feb 09, 2006 12:51 pm Post subject: |
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| 3 day poll is up (less if it's a walkover again). Thanks for voting everyone
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Solomon Birch
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| Posted: Fri Feb 10, 2006 8:04 am Post subject: |
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Voted for activity. :biggrin:
*resumes breath holding*
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"Humankind cannot stand too much reality" - T.S. Elliot
Thesopholis - A Noir Sci-Fi Story - Chapter 8 is up! Read it here
The End of the Voyage - Chapter 9
Shady the Furry Goblin! [Demon's, Satan and Slobadan Milosevic!] - Chapter 3
The Quest for the Legendary Rubber-Duckie! - Chapter 3
One Last Bullet.... Chapter 3
Green Eyes - Chapter 5
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| Posted: Sat Feb 11, 2006 2:03 pm Post subject: |
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Caught up...and voted.
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Sat Feb 11, 2006 3:11 pm Post subject: |
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| Welcome back Powers
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| Posted: Sat Feb 11, 2006 11:58 pm Post subject: |
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| I voted for the volcano...
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Sun Feb 12, 2006 8:09 am Post subject: |
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| It's beginning to look like a bit of a foregone conclusion. I'll start writing and hope 8 people don't come along to spoil my fun
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| Posted: Mon Feb 13, 2006 10:19 am Post subject: |
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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Beast and the Beauty
Lenny was not the only one looking nervous this time. The Producer, devoid of his bodyguard, was glancing longingly at the exits. From personal experience, Lenny didn’t rate Saggy’s chances at getting out of here – at least not with his spleen intact!
Blight, meanwhile, was stroking a long, black fingernail thoughtfully over the envelopes. After long seconds, she picked out the volcano. Her crimson eyes burned into the Producer, daring him to find anything but opera within it. Then, as she tore the slip of paper from its recesses, the voice-over began, its cheerful tones completely out of step with the tense atmosphere on stage.
“Congratulations, Blight Mowlder. You have won a trip for two, to the thriving Port-Planet of Olfulalon. Reputed to have the best parties, the best cocktails and the largest range of entertainments in the Aldebron Range! Spend your time drinking in the culture… or simply drinking in the many taverns, clubs and theatres and gaming-pits. The weather is paradise, the natives are friendly and the fun doesn’t stop until your money runs out. And when it does – don’t worry! Olfulalon also has the best loan-sharks in the known galaxy. Trying to avoid repayment of debts can be a whole world of fun and games. Just don’t get caught! Enjoy your very special date, and thank you for playing… Intergalactic, Inter-dimensional Buh-liiiiiind Date!”
Saggyface looked almost comically relieved.
“There you are, my… my dear,” he said, even daring to pat her leathery shoulder. “I guarantee that you and your date will be given special passes to every operatic show on the circuit.”
“Well then,” conceded the demon, seemingly mollified, “That will do, I suppose. The rest of it sounds dreadful, but I’m sure the opera will make up for it.”
With a final, disinterested nod at Lenny, she stalked off stage into the wings. The Produce sagged even further (if such a thing were possible) in relief. He leaned over in Lenny’s direction and muttered:
“With any luck, she’ll be safely on-planet before she realises that the Olfulalons have a planet-wide ban on all forms of operatics.” He shuddered. “Can’t blame them really. Dreadful stuff!”
Lenny barely heard him. He was looking at the one remaining envelope, with the picture of sandbags silhouetted on it. His heart was busily burrowing its way into the pit of his stomach, while his stomach contents were in severe danger of escaping through his bowels.
Activity. The worst of all possible choices. His father had had quite a lot to say on the subject of adventure-based dates! His recollections had included such romantic prospects as Dragon-Rodeo, Giant Scorpion Wrestling, Surfing on Solar Flares and The Great Annual Cannibal Hunt (which, just to be quite clear, did not mean that the cannibals were being hunted!).
The only silver lining was that he didn’t have to endure it in the company of either Contestants One, Two or Three! Given the Producer’s glee over his choice of Alia though, he couldn’t help but wonder whether the silver lining was, in fact, a rapidly descending lightning bolt!
As if reading his thoughts, Saggyface pulled him back to reality with a booming voice.
“Only one envelope left to be revealed, Mr. Cludge. But first,” his eyes disappeared into yet another smile, “you have to meet the lucky lady that you chose. Do we have her? Yes we do – Lenny Cludge, Meet Alia Ali’aye!”
He held out a heavy paw in the direction of the wings. Lenny caught his breath as his choice of date appeared and wandered towards him. She really was beautiful. Still dressed in black robes, her creamy skin was accented still further by the waves of dark curls that flowed lustrously down her back. She had looked tiny and frail on the satellite screen earlier, but she seemed only a couple of inches shorter than Lenny himself. Her eyes were dark and limpidly expressive, and there was a sadness in the line of her mouth that made Lenny ache to see a smile.
She seemed weary but unsurprised at being here. She looked him briefly up and down, taking in the near-nudity and huge boxer shorts without notable reaction. As she gazed into his face and smiled forlornly, he began to wonder how many blind dates the girl had been on before. Certainly this did not seem like her first experience with the show – but surely she wasn’t such a veteran as his father had been?
He looked to the audience, who were standing and cheering to the last man, woman, it, thing and other. Alia’s name was being chanted, in a manner that suggested, not only that they knew her of old, but that she had been magnificent entertainment in the past.
Facts: She was breathtakingly beautiful. She seemed sweet, upon first impression. She had been on the show multiple times. She was still single.
Oh, he was in big trouble!
“Alia. My love. This is Larry Cludge’s son.” The Producer pushed her a step forward, sounding for all the world like a professional match-maker. Lenny tried to lift his features into an expression of intelligence and poise. Unfortunately, since his nerves had decided to do the fandango in his facial muscles, what came out was more of a lop-sided leer. Alia’s expression became vaguely less distant.
“Larry Cludge?” she asked, her voice clear and soft. “I’ve seen the re-runs.”
And that, apparently was that. The Producer cleared his throat, looking from one to the other of them with concern that seemed unmatched by the occasion.
“Well,” he rumbled, “It’s time to see what special date you two have cho… have been left with.”
He held out the envelope to Lenny, who took it with shaking hands. He hesitated, then handed it over to Alia.
“You open it,” he mumbled. “I can’t look.”
Alia peeled open the envelope with no discernable enthusiasm.
“An action-packed adventure in a Gouiskan Haunted House,” she sighed, as the audience went wild.
“Yes indeed,” crooned the voice-over. “Lenny Cludge and Alia Duw, you are destined to be sped to Gouiska – the legendary Planet of the Dead where, at virtually no expense, the show has gained access to one of their Spooky Mansions, in the centre of the Cemetary District! Learn the perilous arts of ghost-hunting, stumble through the gore of the zombie hordes, get the blood pumping with a good old-fashioned vampire workout… and, who knows, maybe you’ll find time for a bit of romance in the process. Anything is possible when you play… Intergalactic, Inter-dimensional Buh-liiiiiind Date!”
Lenny ran a hand over his face. When the people on this show talked about a haunted house, the chances were they weren’t talking about spooky music and a few creaking floorboards. It was about as passion-inducing as… as wearing an over-large pair of someone else’s undershorts, come to think of it. Then again, perhaps he should be grateful at the lack of romantic prospects. It was less of a chance to fall flat on his face with a pretty girl - again! The last thing he needed was yet another best friend to use his already over-soggy shoulder!
Alia looked no happier about it as she was dragged in the opposite direction to him. Her head turned to track Lenny as a many-legged stage assistant started to lead him away. Buoyed by her attention, he looked back and gave her a hopeful smile which lasted right until he walked into the side of the front curtain. Tangled and flustered, he struggled with the thick red velvet and felt the shorts slipping into a rapid descent.
He finally got himself unsnarled, blushing furiously. Listening to the delighted whoops of the audience, he could only hope that Alia had not been paying attention.
‘Smooth, Lenny,’ he thought, furiously. ‘Real smooth!’
The caterpillar-like creature was still waiting patiently for him. Lacking anything else to do, he followed it off the stage.
A rather grim-faced lady was waiting in the wings. Her pale hair was tortured back into a tight bun and there was a clipboard in her hands. She had ‘Legal Department’ written all over her. No, really! Her grey dress had a repeated motif of scripted writing, in multiple languages, all of which translated into her job description. Only able to read the Earth languages (and not all of them), Lenny nevertheless got the idea.
Lenny wasn’t sure which was worse – facing the mouldering rage of the undead masses, or going head to head with one of the show’s lawyers!
“You need to sign the waiver,” she snapped, briskly. “Let’s see… I think we can cross out Eaten by swarms of angry fish… and Burned to a crisp in outer atmospheric freefall… and Tidal waves, sand storms, lightning strikes, earthquakes… no, on the other hand, I think we’ll keep lightning strikes and earthquakes. You never know, with ‘Activity’. The rest can stay in as well. Sign please.”
She thrust the pen at Lenny, who hesitated, until he caught a glimpse of a spiky-furrred foxoid with a syringe and a bottle of pink liquid. He muttered something that turned the air a faint shade of blue, then scrawled his name on the bottom of the sheet.
“Very good, Mr. Cludge. Now, if you’d like to follow S’lee to the costume department,” ordered the woman.
Lenny turned to find a three-legged guppy waiting expectantly for him. It turned and walked away. As Lenny followed, he glanced nervously at the fox-thing, only to see it injecting a full syringe of ‘pink’ into one of the pot-plants in the corner. As he watched in amazement, the plant’s stem began to rustle and three of its leaves unfolded. Finally, a bud burst forth on a new, green shoot.
He was still furiously kicking himself for being intimidated by plant food, when the guppy stopped, nosing a spangly door to his left. Lenny opened it, hesitantly.
He had arrived, as expected, at the costume room. It seemed to be run by a golden-skinned man with a penchant for clothing in skintight tinfoil with sequins added for extra glitter. Despite his eye-dazzling fashion-sense, the man seemed almost normal, compared to what his father had had to put up with.
To Lenny’s relief, he was given quite tasteful alternative clothes to wear. White cotton shirt, brown trousers and tunic, made of soft and pliable leather. Rather camp knee-length boots, but at least they were comfortable. If the worst he could say about the date was that he looked like a pantomime version of Prince Charming, then he would be lucky indeed!
He was rather more ambivalent about the other accessories. Vials of ‘holy’ water (an effect rather spoiled by the trademark logo on the bottom of each vial, and the 15% discount sticker on the side), various holy symbols (made of rather cheap-looking plastic, probably as holy as your average Big Mac), throwing daggers, a knife for close combat, a sword that fit into his belt-scabbard (and would probably stay there as long as Lenny wanted to keep both feet attached to his ankles), something that looked rather like a ray-gun (which he was assured was a genuine, authentic anti-ethereal death ray), a rather kinky looking whip, a mallet, 3 stakes, a necklace of garlic and a slingshot with three silver bearings as ammunition.
His knees were close to buckling by the time he walked out of the door. He resolved to dump as much of the equipment in the shuttle, as soon as he could. At least that way, he wouldn’t be clunking around like Robbie the Robot, drawing out every hostile killer wraith in the Mansion of Undead Ghastliness!
The guppy was waiting for him outside in the corridor. He followed its ambling progress as slowly as he dared. Prisoners walking to the electric chair had been known to go faster. Any minute now, he would be expected to get into the transport shuttle. A delay would be nice. Any delay. Personal intervention by God, swarm of locusts, nuclear explosion – he wasn’t fussy.
He was surprised, therefore, to find himself being led into a room where two pillars of light were shimmering from floor to ceiling. Three people were already there. Alia, dressed in black leather trousers and a bodiced tunic that made his eyes bulge, an android behind a control panel… and the Producer himself.
“Err…” began Lenny.
Saggyface’s wrinkles deepened into an inquiring frown. Alia glanced at him with polite disinterest.
“Err…” he tried again. “Where’s the shuttle?”
“The shuttle? Oh my dear boy, you’re behind the times,” laughed the Producer, jovially. “It’s all done by teleporter now. Much quicker and more economical. One blink and you’re there. Look – my boy – I just wanted to say… good luck on your date. I’m sure the two of you will do just fine.”
He stretched his features into an unlikely smile. Lenny watched carefully for any signs of malice or cunning. None were obvious… but, with a face like that, who could tell anyway? A moment later, he was gone, leaving Lenny alone with one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen. She was staring after the Producer with a look of resignation on her face. Lenny wanted to tell her not to worry, that together they could tackle any obstacle that was thrown at them, that he would do his very best to make her forget her glumness.
He took a step forward… and promptly fell over the tip of his sword. He staggered and lurched, brushing past Alia’s startled face and right into one of the light-beams. Instantly, there was that feeling of hell’s furnaces. Light and heat blinded him for a fraction of a second, then he completed the last step of the tumble and landed on his knees on a completely different world.
There was damp stone beneath his hands and feet, and an impenetrable mist swirling all around him. After a second or two, he realised that he had landed in a cemetary and jumped off the grave-marker with a non-too-manly shriek.
“Oh, don’t worry,” said a gloomy voice from behind him. “They don’t come out until it goes dark.”
Lenny whirled around, his heart thudding in his chest. As it turned out, his heart had gone to a lot of effort for nothing. What stood behind him seemed to be the least convincing Werewolf he had ever seen. It appeared to be nothing more than an oily-skinned humanoid with fake fur glued onto his cheeks, the backs of his hands and his eyebrows. He also wore a set of wolf ears that were attached by a plastic headband, and a set of the most fake-looking false teeth he had ever seen outside of a kid’s joke shop.
As he tried to think of something appropriate to say, there was another stab of light from behind the fake wolfman. Alia stepped daintily out of the beam and looked around with infinite weariness.
“Ah, good. You’re both here. If you’ll come this way,” droned the man. “I’ll take you to the house.”
Lenny looked doubtfully at Alia, but she was already trudging along behind the guide. He shrugged and fell into step beside her. She gave him a cursory glance then returned her attention to the werewolf-thing in front of her. He seemed to be having a problem with his fake ears, and there was a muffled curse as his attempts to straighten it caused the headband to snap in half.
“Look,” began Lenny, “I’m sorry about before – when I…”
“I know,” said Alia, giving him the faintest of smiles. “I’m sorry too. When we get to the house, maybe we should split up, go our separate ways? It might be better for both of us.”
“I… well… I… do you think so?” stammered Lenny, perplexed.
“Why did you pick me?” she countered.
Lenny floundered. “I… you looked… uhh… I mean, why not?”
She looked briefly disappointed, as if he had failed some sort of test. Before they could continue the conversation, a huge house rose up out of the mist. The guide led them up the path and opened a highly-squeaky door, gesturing them inside.
“Now don’t forget,” he gloomed at them, “if you’re in trouble, there’s plenty of cameras in the house that you can send a distress call through. I doubt anything will be done about it, but it improves the ratings no end.”
“But…” protested Lenny. It was too late. The guide had shut the door behind them and there was an immediate clunk of a lock slamming into place.
Resigned (for the moment) to his fate, Lenny looked around. He was in a huge entrance hall with floors of polished red wood. A huge marble staircase led up from the centre, splitting at the top to a balconied landing. There were age-darkened paintings hanging at regular intervals, an occasional suit of armour and a large chandelier which hung stylishly from the ceiling. The windows were stained glass, depicting various creatures of the night, devouring very put-out-looking adventurers. Heavy black drapes gave an even more gothic feel to the mansion; an effect which was spoiled somewhat by the perky little bowls of petunias on the windowsills.
A signpost stood in front of the staircase. It looked incongruous, almost embarrassingly so – like a Shakespearean actor who has been reduced to selling laxative pills on Live TV. Lenny read its markings torn between a sense of dread and a sense of the ridiculous!
One post pointed up. It read:
Our Lady’s boudoir. Lair of the dreadful chattering twins. Elias Grimm’s bedchambers. WC and restroom.
Another pointed straight down. It read:
Dungeons of extreme torture. Pits of the forgotten. Crypts and caverns. Tea-shoppe.
The one to the left read:
The venomous arboretum. Courtyard of lament. Arena of doom. Vehicle parking.
And the one to the right read:
Hell’s kitchen. Laboratories of Mudric the Insane. The sanitarium. Gifts and souvenirs.
He heard Alia heave a deep sigh beside him.
“Any preference?” she asked, doelike eyes gazing deep into his own…
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Solomon Birch
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| Posted: Mon Feb 13, 2006 10:47 am Post subject: |
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ROFL!! 
Well, you've done it again Stoat! Hilarious chapter!
| Quote: | | Dungeons of extreme torture. Pits of the forgotten. Crypts and caverns. Tea-shoppe |
I think we just have to go with this one! :biggrin:
I mean; Dungeons of extreme torture and a Tea-shoppe! Hilarious!
_________________
"Humankind cannot stand too much reality" - T.S. Elliot
Thesopholis - A Noir Sci-Fi Story - Chapter 8 is up! Read it here
The End of the Voyage - Chapter 9
Shady the Furry Goblin! [Demon's, Satan and Slobadan Milosevic!] - Chapter 3
The Quest for the Legendary Rubber-Duckie! - Chapter 3
One Last Bullet.... Chapter 3
Green Eyes - Chapter 5
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Chinaren
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| Posted: Mon Feb 13, 2006 11:28 am Post subject: |
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The Boudoir seems to be the least dangerous!
Nice chapter Stoaty! Now, what is wrong with his date? Mmm?
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Mon Feb 13, 2006 11:33 am Post subject: |
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Insomnia attack, China? You're not usually up at these ungodly hours!
And how could you possibly imagine something to be wrong with so perfect a creature as Alia? Really! I'm shocked. Smirking a little... but nevertheless, shocked
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Chinaren
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Ingrothechundyer
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| Posted: Mon Feb 13, 2006 2:07 pm Post subject: |
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 very nice chapter!
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Solomon Birch
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| Posted: Tue Feb 14, 2006 10:17 am Post subject: |
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| chinaren wrote: | Ya. Can't sleep. I am all over the place lately.  |
Poor orange capitalist.....
Maybe all that fur is keeping you from sleeping?
_________________
"Humankind cannot stand too much reality" - T.S. Elliot
Thesopholis - A Noir Sci-Fi Story - Chapter 8 is up! Read it here
The End of the Voyage - Chapter 9
Shady the Furry Goblin! [Demon's, Satan and Slobadan Milosevic!] - Chapter 3
The Quest for the Legendary Rubber-Duckie! - Chapter 3
One Last Bullet.... Chapter 3
Green Eyes - Chapter 5
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Suneila
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| Posted: Wed Feb 15, 2006 1:01 pm Post subject: |
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It's gotta be either the Boudoir or the Tea-Shoppe.
Also: They should stick together. The location is more dangerous than what Lenny doesn't know about his date.
~sunny
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ethereal_fauna
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| Posted: Thu Feb 16, 2006 1:08 am Post subject: |
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We think he should head into the dungeons/ tea shoppe first...then on up to the boudoir/ bedchamber, and where the restrooms are...perhaps prevent his pissing his pants.
Happy Writing
Smauna
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| Posted: Thu Feb 16, 2006 7:37 pm Post subject: |
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Great chapter. I read it a long time ago then I forgot to comment. Hey, maybe he could ask her what she wants, or at least ask her which way will keep him within the limits of mortality.
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| Posted: Wed Feb 22, 2006 8:24 am Post subject: |
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| Poll's up again. Vote vote vote
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Solomon Birch
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| Posted: Wed Feb 22, 2006 3:09 pm Post subject: |
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TEA-SHOPPE!!
*holds breath*
_________________
"Humankind cannot stand too much reality" - T.S. Elliot
Thesopholis - A Noir Sci-Fi Story - Chapter 8 is up! Read it here
The End of the Voyage - Chapter 9
Shady the Furry Goblin! [Demon's, Satan and Slobadan Milosevic!] - Chapter 3
The Quest for the Legendary Rubber-Duckie! - Chapter 3
One Last Bullet.... Chapter 3
Green Eyes - Chapter 5
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