Thread: Silliness Convenient Lies
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Old 03-11-2010, 12:20 PM   #64
kindlekitten
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Join Date: Sep 2009
Location: The Olympic Peninsula on the OTHER Washington! (the big green clean one on the west coast!)
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careful with those fezs' guys!!! some of the heads were pretty putrid. (it's not gas from the broccoli you're smelling)

Quote:
Originally Posted by mvisconte View Post
I do not KNOW any words with more than one syl a ble. Oh wait, may be I do

You don't have to use the candle, you purist. Look in the kitchen. There a microwave.

:-D


OK, can the brocolli. We'll go with taffy. Hot taffy is, well, hot, and then it's sticky. NOBODY is going to want to fight when they're hot AND sticky.

:-D
ewwwww! canned broccoli!!!
Quote:
Originally Posted by mvisconte View Post
Woohoo! Actually, I decided to go a softer route. My extensive training in defensive ballet, and offensive square dance will certainly tide me through. This never works the way I think it will.

if you would have followed through with the Highland dancing lessons like your defence team told you to, this wouldn't be an issue! those old highlanders were pretty savvy and knew how to train their warriors! at least master the sword dance!!![/B]
A good combination, yes, but I cannot encourage fraternization between the troops.
Actually, I happen to know that they are both loyal and patient, so when I screw up, I don't have to worry about winding up in a Fez being shipped to Algiers.
Quote:
Originally Posted by mvisconte View Post
Catching Deb's eye, I ask her if she can escort our guests to the interiour lounge while I find some gold boullion for our visitors. Gee, suddenly they understand me very well. Just get them to an interiour room for a little while. These ships are extremely stable and you don't notice they're moving unless you're at a window (or we're doing evasive manuvers -- loop-de-loop?).

Deb and KK smile a very beeg smile. Yes, indeed, can we get you something? Coffee? Tea? I know that look... that's the look that the female praying mantis gives the male when she decides his insurance money will put the kids through college quite well. Uh-oh, I also know THAT look. Buddy, inspite of having women on the staff, this is not a 50's secretarial pool. If you try that, I'm thinking you might wind up missing limbs.

Listen, guys, I could save you trouble and just shoot you outright, but then we'd be short a plot point, and a lot of fun.

Deb and KK giggle, girlishly, and take our friends by the arm and lead them to one of the lounges. Drinks for everyone, pshrynk is serving, so I know they'll be heavy. dvsick is hovering, but just to provide less privacy lest our friends get too frisky too soon. Pshrynk is serving the better booze, against my better judgement, but hey, I trust him to know how hard to hit. You want attractive bait before the hook is set.

Hanger door is open, and we're easing out just over the water. The wash from the fans making a nice froth on the surface of the water. Makes me want espresso.

We're at the edge of the harbor, still well within comfortable distance to land, but far enough that we're more grey than visible. In the lounge, a light flashes. Deb stands up and says "well gentlemen, its time to go." Not understanding, the big guy smiles and reaches a hand out for her wrist. He moves a fraction of an inch forward and stops. Well, kind of. There is a sharp pain in his throat, an inch above his sternum. A sharp pain that he can't quite get away from. Deb has one hand on his tie, reeling him in, and one hand on a very sharp stilletto, the tip pressed just against his neck. He notices that there's warm liquid pooling in his belly button. KK has done a dosey-do on her friend and has his arm twisted so far up behind his back that he can scratch his head. A bit melodramatic, yes?

Sputtering, torn between wounded ego and not wanting to get wounded further, he resorts to implied theats, "you don't know who you are deeling weeth".

"Oh, I'm sorry, what was your name?" He didn't think it was funny, but I did. I watch on the monitor as the women frog-walk the goons from the lounge down the corridor into the wheel house. Released to glare as us, they men are sizing up the situation. One guy reaches up to his shoulder, and looks puzzled. Deb tosses a couple of cheap pot-metal semis on the chart table. KK notes "You boys don't have a very big budget, these are crap".

"Gentlemen, would you step out on the patio for a second?" Nobody's got guns, be these guys are not really comfortable with the thought of not being the main muscle. They're eyeing the hatch to the corridor, the chart table, the hatch, Deb, the door to the open patio, me, each other. They turn, slowly, facing the patio. You can see their shoulders tense as they get ready to spring...

And a deep growl comes from the hatchway. You know, a dog sounds a LOT larger when you can't see it. Their shoulders drop and they move toward the patio. Deb follows them out. They look back inside the wheel house and WD(E), KK, and I head out, closing the hatchway.

They go from puzzled to sly. They step apart and forward, moving so that Deb is more in line betwen them. They've ganged up on victims before. They look like the fox, for a little bit.

It's not a good feeling when your target knows they're a target, and they're smiling.

Deb faces one, and takes a step forward, and in a quick sweep, grabs lapels, pulls him close, and pushes hard, out and up, as she continues forward. I wish I had been there in person... I've never seen someone jetisoned so cleanly.

The man shot backward off balance, caught his legs on the top of the railing, and tumbled over, disappearing in the gloom. A spash followed quickly -- the wheel-house observation deck was just a couple dozens of feet above the water.

The second man panicked and rushed forward, whether to avenge his friend or try to safe him, I don't know. Deb turned half-way right, pushed off with her left foot, and dropped her right knee, and then stood up suddenly. And caught the man about two feet from the railing, and executed and perfect shoulder throw. The man followed his friend into the surf, and soon joined him yelling at the tops of their lungs.

KK ask "why don't I ever have any fun?" Patience, I'm sure you'll get to shoot something, hit something, or blow something up.
"Soon?" I promise.
Molified, she stepped to the chart table, scooped the guns up and joined Deb on the patio, where she tried to bean one of the men with the guns.
"He said I'd get to hit something soon... he promised. I'm just practicing."

It's a quiet, moonless night... take a little altitude, set the auto-pilot, and step out to the mess for a light dinner.

Geoff has several pounds of steamed broccoli, and no main course. The crew is sullen, except for Shortncuddly, who has chocolate. I decide to step to the lounge and drink my dinner. Tomorrow is another day. In about 9 hours.

----

So, anybody up for pirates? Energy weapons? Deeds of daring-do?

Any ideas?
gosh darn it! if I can't fraternize, at least let me play with the victims a little longer, 'k boss?

Quote:
Originally Posted by dsvick View Post
Doesn't that make it more gaseous?



Oh sure, on a floating ship full of geeks, bookworms, and other irresistibly inquisitive people that'll be next to impossible.... hmmmm

maybe if I just confine everyone to quarters... then I can go help shortncuddly finish the taste testing....
no confining to quarters! they self implode!!! you wanted the hard job!!!
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