Unutterably Silly The 2-sentences-per-post story (starring a mysterious blonde psockpuppet?)

[Bilbo1967]

"The first week was uneventful; few guys tried to hit on me, but no more than usual. It was the start of the second week when things started to get weird".

[dreams]

Here is the story to this point while we wait for costume and set change for the flashback sequence.

I put the story, to this point, in a spoiler tag for those who just want to skip it.

Spoiler:

The four-word-posts story has grown into a monstrous size and threatening to devour us all (which is definitely a good thing, for certain values of 'good', and certain values of 'thing').

There have also been some people in here that are eager to be rich and famous, so maybe this is their opportunity to make it big. Or not.

I find that four words are a bit too restrictive for all those brilliant creative minds in here. So I now propose the two-sentences-per-post story. You now have enough room to complete that train of thought, but not enough to monopolize the plot. Let's see if this makes a bit more sense (ha!)

I go first:
******************** Case Of The Ape Stalker

The door creaked open, and in strolled a stunning blonde. There was an unmistakable mysterious air about her, and a mischievous glint in her black button eyes.

She sat on the proffered chair and removed one of her six-inch spiked high-heeled shoes, and massaged her ankle.
"I need your advice on a delicate matter," she said.

"It's important that word doesn't get out," she continued. "Can I count on your discretion ?"

"You can count on anything you like," I replied. "As long as I can count on your payment when the job is complete."

"Very well," she said. "I think I'm being followed by a very large and hairy ape."

"You're not sure?", I asked.

At that moment I caught a glimpse of reddish fur through the grimy window, but with the amount of whiskey I had in me my senses were not to be trusted, so I ignored it.

Meanwhile, somewhere in the city, a large and hairy ape had found the trail of a nice tidbit again. It was a bit old, but still he was able to trace it.

"Tell me more about that alleged ape stalker, then".

She fidgeted nervously with her handbag, avoiding my gaze.

My sharp eyes noticed a coarse reddish hair clinging to the seam in her silk stockings. It gently wafted to the floor as my antique desk fan unexpectedly came to life.

"I think he is the doorman or security guard or something at this place I've heard about. There was some trouble there recently, a murder I think."

"I started noticing a faint aura of banana around my windows last week. Then the phone calls started."

"The phone kept ringing at all times of the day, and night. It became unbearable," she said as she started to faint.
I tripped over the fan cord as I lunged forward to break her fall. As her purse hit the floor, the clasp opened and spilled the contents all over my filthy rug.

As can be expected, out fell all the usual cosmetic stuff. And also a tuft of red hair.

Various items covered the floor, the most interesting of which came to rest by the lamp. "Now, what would a lady be doing with one of those?", I wondered.

Picking up the miniature samurai sword, I quickly examined the blade. Hmm, I hummed, "Made in China."

Hmmm, I hummed once more. "What's this, erm, trace of blood?"

'What,' she gasped. 'I've never seen that knife before in my life!'

"Not blood", said the blonde, who had come to and was woozily attempting to sit up. "Tomato juice; it's a long story".

I sat down by her side. "Okay Doll, spill the beans, the whole story, from beginning to end, no messing me about, time is money you know."

"But, it is my money buying your time." She responded, having regained her wits.

"Which reminds me," I replied, "that we have not discussed payment yet". And that was only one of the many frustratingly vague things in this Case Of The Ape Stalker.

"I understand your rate is $300 a day, plus expenses" she said without batting an eyelash. Well, well, the dame had done her homework.

She handed over a brown envelope with the cash and a photo of her. As I looked back at her, she said, "That photo was on my doorstep this morning, and it's exactly what I was wearing the day of the Mystery Contest."

Or, rather, wasn't wearing. I'd never seen so little fabric used to contain assets of this size.

I waited for her to go on. "Do you think I look better in purple?", she asked me a little anxiously.

'Doll face,' I wheezed, 'you'd look sensational in anything.' 'Or nothing at all.'

She seemed a little reassured at that and gave me a tremulous smile. Then she said: "So, what are you going to do about the gibbon?".

"What gibbon was that?"

The lady looked at me, raising her eyebrows.

She stuttered for a moment, stumbling over her words, then pointed.

"That gibbon!"

We both watched silently as the ugliest hariest beast I had ever seen crept past the window. "That's him?"

"I..I..I'm not sure", she stuttered. "All gibbons look a bit alike, don't they?"

"But that one's quite distinctive", I said.

"It's wearing a fedora and carrying a book by Nietzsche"

"That's amazing! I never notice such things - that's why you're a PI and I'm not, I suppose", she giggled.

"That's right", I told her. "The thing I can't figure out though, is how he crept past the window when we're 4 stories up"!

"Maybe he used a bat-rope from his utility belt," she mused. "Not the sharpest knife in the drawer, is she?" I remembered thinking.

And did a double-take; why was I remembering something as it was happening? The answer was obvious.

I pressed the reset button, removed the cable from the back of my skull, and the direct brain insertion virtual reality simulation ended. But to my amazement I found the buxom blonde and the angry ape standing in front of me, looking quizzically in my direction holding, respectively and surpisingly, a banana and a pair of stilettos.

"Who are you, how did you get in here, what are you doing in the Private Investigators Training School and is that banana loaded?" I asked. (And yes, we do call this place the pits.)

Luckily I knew how to defend myself against fresh fruit. But wait...had we done bananas? (and was it fresh?)

"No," said the blonde but the rest of her words were drowned out by a gunshot and pain ringing in my ears. Damn, I thought as I collapsed in front of the smoking stilettos the ape was holding, I really should have done the course on how to protect yourself from a stiletto in the hands of a primate.

As I drifted out of consciousness, two mad images drifted in and out of my mind. A newsprint photo of a man in uniform, under the headline "REGICIDE!" and Groucho Marx singing Lydia, The Tatooed Lady."

Some time later, don't ask me how much, I ungummed my eyelids and looked up into the ugliest moniker I had ever seen. Then I turned from the mirror and there she was again, minus the ape.

My superior powers of observation also noted that she was minus her dress."Uh oh." I silently quipped, "This can only mean one thing!"

"Laundry day again?" I asked.

Passing her my spare, in case of emergency, super fluffy, travel robe.

While I scrounged around for quarters for the dryer, she began to scrounge around the room. "Oh, what a beautiful set of etchings you have!" she exclaimed.

I knew this line would only lead to trouble, so I abruptly changed the subject by asking, "Say doll, what happened to the gibbbon? And why are you wearing my house slippers?"

"Never mind the gibbon and the slippers; what the hell is that woman doing with that snake? That is a snake, isn't it?"

"Nope," I replied with my best Crocodile Dundee impression, "-- this is a snake."

She had a far more powerful right hook that you might think to look at her, I thought as I flew through the air in the direction of the industrial sized tumble drier.

I had been shot at by a stiletto heel and punched by a mysterious dame and confused by life, the universe and everything, and in general I was suspecting it was not my day. I really needed to take control of the situation asap.

So I calmly climbed out of the drier, crawled under my desk and began to phone for back up. Unfortunately the ape had pulled out all the wires.

As I started to crawl (man, I hope this doesn't become a habit) back out, I found myself staring at a pair of slippers, which, I have to admit, looked better on the end of her legs than mine. It was just my bad luck the other end of those legs were attached to the Dame with the mean right hook.

And then I had to admit, she does look cute, really cute, really really cute.

And then I started to think, 'do I have I concussion, does the World normally spin this way round? huh!"

And as the world started going dark, all I could think about was getting into that pair of slippers again....
Bright sunshine plucked at my eyelids.
Dark shadows and hallucigenic colours clouded my mind.

"Are you alright?" said a calm, sexy voice somewhere over the rainbow that was shining brightly behind my eyelids.

It was The Dame, shinning a flashlight on my face as she babbled something about a gibbon or ape or something.

"Apppppeeee, theeeee Gibbbbboooon", I babbled incoherently, "can you still see it?" I asked.

"No."

I squeezed my eyes tighter as I shouted "turn that damned light off!". She responded with a quick smack of the torch across my face and babbled "the gibbon, he's over there!" whilst pointing over my shoulder.

"But you just said" .....

"Never mind that !" .....

I tried to stand up, but I was a little woozy. She started babbling again!

She was still babbling and then pointing out a large shadow on the wall.....

"He's here !"

The shadow gradually took shape and became three-dimensional - and hairy.
"Hello", it said in a baritone, dignified voice.

The Dame fainted. I caught her, just before the ape, gibbon - whatever could.....

"Could what?" asked the dignified baritone voice.

The voice eventually ended the silence (I was too distracted by holding the really, really, cute lady to even try and answer) with the explanation "Your internal monologue leaks."

I felt my face redden at the comment. "Say, you're pretty eloquent for an ape", I told him while I carefully deposited the blonde on my creaking couch.

"It's a useful attribute for a psychiatrist," replied the ape, confusingly. "If the young lady that is the subject of your Freudian monologues has not yet engaged your services, I have a proposition that may be of interest."

remembering that private eyes are always hard up for dough, i decided to play it cool and see where it led. "i'm listening," i said to him (coolly).

"I have reason to believe a secretive organisation with the acronym AWL wishes ill on some very good friends of mine and that this young lady knows something about it. Find me details and evidence and I can offer you $300 a day, plus expenses."

intriguing ; could it be the dame wasn't as sweet as she looked ? for 3 large a day i was willing to try to find out, especially if i played it close enough to the vest to keep an eye on the hairy guy for the dame, as well.

"Excellent. However, might I suggest you have your monologue leak looked at before it places you into an uncomfortable situation--some might object to being called a hairy guy."

"Is it the 'hairy', or the 'guy' that worries you?" I said. He looked at me with the strangest expression I had seen on a big hairy guy.

"Well, what would you like me to call you?" I shot back at him (I was getting a little irritated with this fancy-talking big ape).

Just as he opened his big, hairy mouth, I heard a delicate (and might I say, very sexy) little cough from the Dame on the couch.

"Guy," said the ape as the dame raised the banana and pointed it meancingly at the ape who proceeded disappear, dropping an envelope as he fled.

"That's him; he's stalking me," screamed the dame.

She screamed again!

The shadow across the wall drifted onto, and then slowly across, the ceiling before it disappeared as the light flickered and finally extinguished with a fizzle and pop!

"Yes, that was him," I confirmed, then, in a flash of capitalistic insight added, "I manged to fend him off this time but I'm afraid my rates will have to be adjusted due to size of ape, errr, situation I mean."

"What do you mean, 'YOU managed to fend him off this time?", she shot back at me. "I'm the one who remembered to get the banana!"

"Besides, don't you think there might be a tiny conflict of interest if you accept a job offer from him?" she added.

Things were beginning to get a bit tricky.

"Errrm, you heard that part did you?" Thinking quickly, I added, "I only said that in order to get closer to him to find out why he is stalking you."

Thinking to stop this line of conversation, I picked up the envelope that had fallen to the floor. 'Hmm,' I mused, 'a distinctive odor of almonds.'

I carefully turned the envelope over to see who had sent it. My eyes popped open at the name!.

I suddenly found it hard to breathe. This is definitely turning into one of those days where I should just shoot myself and save everyone else the trouble.

"But then you wouldn't be able to protect me," said the blonde in a voice that got my blood flowing in all the wrong directions.

Damn my leaky internal monologue, I thought.

"We still have the small matter to discuss of my fee, " I said, trying to keep my cool and not think about the source of the letter. Of all people, why would she send me an ape-couriered letter?

Some dames just hang around your neck ... like last Christmas' necktie. Or like that sad haunting song you can't forget no matter how many shots of rotgut you pour down your throat.

Now to settle on a fee to save the lady in front of me from the ape, who said he needed to be saved the dame. After that I can concentrate on the letter, even though it was burning my fingers to hold it without opening it.

"My normal fee is $250 a day, plus expenses. But I charge an extra $50 a day if I'm likely to get shot at," I added, chancing my stiletto-shot arm.

She batted those cute little button eyes at me and said, "I thought we settled that earlier. You did take the envelope of cash I gave you."

"Took it. Spent it." "But, hey, you can't blame a guy for trying. So, tell me about the ape."

It all began in a smoky night club in Paris. I was hired for a two week gig, singing and swinging in the Rue de la Rouge.

"The first week was uneventful; few guys tried to hit on me, but no more than usual. It was the start of the second week when things started to get weird".

Now, what to wear for a smoky night club in Paris?

[poohbear_nc]

Cue in the Intermission medley and serve the refreshments now!

Cigars, cigarettes, cigarillos? Gum? Cocaine?

[Bilbo1967]

Originally Posted by poohbear_nc

Cue in the Intermission medley and serve the refreshments now!

Cigars, cigarettes, cigarillos? Gum? Cocaine?

....Stormy Petrel on a stick!

[poohbear_nc]

Originally Posted by Bilbo1967

....Stormy Petrel on a stick!

No I don't think we're offering any of that.

And no chicken on a skewer either!

[dreams]

Oh, dear. Am I very late? I just couldn't decide what to wear.

Why is it so smokey in here? What's all that powdery white stuff? "Gesundheit!"

And who is that chicken running around yelling, "I said NO chicken on a skewer!"

Well, anyway...

Do you think the dots are too much?

[poohbear_nc]

Originally Posted by dreams

Oh, dear. Am I very late? I just couldn't decide what to wear.

Why is it so smokey in here? What's all that powdery white stuff? "Gesundheit!"

And who is that chicken running around yelling, "I said NO chicken on a skewer!"

Well, anyway...

Do you think the dots are too much?Attachment 52204

Your bow sort of combines the old axiom: "basic black with a rope of pearls"

[dreams]

Originally Posted by poohbear_nc

Your bow sort of combines the old axiom: "basic black with a rope of pearls"

Oh, dear. I so didn't want to look like my mom. Humm, maybe something different?

Do you think this would catch the eye of those Parisian men?

[LazyScot]

<FX: Shaky, wavey camera effect indicating flashback. Voiceover.>

"So there I was on the Wednesday, almost wearing the little black dress and singing some sultry french chansons when two socks walked in, one wearing a safety pin, and sat by the bar and proceeded to order fabric conditioner doubles. A few minutes later they were joined by a tall dark, sunglasses-wearing man carrying a violin case."

[poohbear_nc]

I was in the middle of my first set, and directed my most soulful gazes towards them. They were so busy chatting together that not one of them noticed when the song was over.

[dreams]

I wasn't use to being ignored, so I signaled the band for a song change and walked to the edge of the stage.

As the first notes began, I leaned my back against the post, and slowly drew my hand up my body, and grabbed the post behind my head.

[SneakySnake]

The chattering suddenly stopped. A few glassy clinks could be heard over the dripping noise of spilt drinks.

[dreams]

That's more like it, I thought to myself, even the tall dark, sunglasses-wearing man with the violin case is staring at me with his mouth hanging open.

I gave a little flip to my hair and began the first notes of the song.

[SneakySnake]

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the violin case move swiftly up onto the bar. I took a deep breath and hit the floor hoping it would all be over soon.

[dsvick]

After rolling around in cigarette buts and peanuts shells for a minute I noticed a distinct lack of the gun fire I had been expecting. Looking up I saw the patrons still staring at me, although for a completely different reason now, and man with the violin case showing some thing in the case to his sock companions.