Aha! Thought I

  • by Kentdescribed in orientation documents as “human lasagna.”
  • a ritual in which
  • how sarcasm works
  • no one wants to hook up with a lemon-scented lizard-person
  • All claws and teeth

Tune in next time part 892      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Aha! thought I, that confirms that Yolanda is there. But not alone. I remembered a bit of detail then about yodeler subculture, something that didn’t actually come up in my time at Enigma Fortress but was described in the orientation documents as “human lasagna.” It was a ritual in which the yodelers would layer themselves and then “bake” together in a sweaty pile. I wondered, would an airship journey be an appropriate occasion to observe this custom?

“I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to see you no matter how you’re dressed,” Fleur said haughtily.

I was drunk, but not too drunk to know how sarcasm works, so I shot back, “And I’m sure no one wants to hook up with a lemon-scented lizard-person no matter how you’re dressed.” Evidently I was too drunk to know when to just keep quiet.

Fleur did sometimes seem like a lizard-person. All claws and teeth and cold, shimmery scaly armor plating. As she gazed at me with intense calmness, I wondered what it would take to make that cold blood of hers boil.

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“Of Course They’re Super Flattering!”

  • by jenfeel like an enchanted goddess with a delicious secret
  • glittery bedazzled applique shirts
  • You are your mother’s daughter.
  • tenderly kissing her father-in-law
  • bizarre and frequent tradition

Tune in next time part 891      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Of course they’re super flattering!” I said of my pleated pants. “They make me feel like an enchanted goddess with a delicious secret.”

Fleur’s eyebrow could not go any higher.

I drunkenly went on. “The only thing more flattering, in fact, is my collection of glittery bedazzled applique shirts.”

My wife sighed. “You are your mother’s daughter. I’ve never known a president to wear more rhinestones. Hell, I’ve never known a country singer to wear more.”

The bubbles popping in my brain made me reckless. “How rude! Are you the kind of girl to be tenderly kissing her father-in-law with that mouth? I know your country has a lot of bizarre and frequent traditions, but c’mon!”

“Just how drunk are you?” Fleur huffed. “Wear the damn pants if you want to. We’ll see how impressed Yolanda and the others are.”

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Radiant Is the Blood of a Vibrant Writing Partnership

We’re big fans of the Venture Bros, and recently completed a binge of the entire series plus Radiant Is the Blood of the Baboon Heart including the extras. Our favorite extra was John Hodgman’s interview with series creators Doc Hammer and Jackson Publick.

Other writing partnerships fascinate us, so hearing Doc and Jackson describe theirs was a treat. (Pretending we’re on a first-name basis with those two is also quite a kick!) In their case, each episode was written entirely by one or the other of the duo. That means that both partners could do the show’s voice. No matter which one did the honors for a particular episode, from the audience perspective it always felt like the same show. That stuck a chord with us, because Jen and Kent have both learned how to do Rune Skelley’s voice. Back in our very early days, our process included a step where we’d edit each other’s stuff. That step was there explicitly so that the voice wouldn’t be “too Kent” or “too Jen” in the finished product. We no longer need to do that.

Another thing that felt familiar was the zany complexity of the plotlines and of the characters’ myriad backstories. In our novels, we always wind up with intricate situations involving complicated people. Tonally, those novels are nothing like Venture Bros. But, Tune In Next Time, our gonzo flash-fiction chain story, comes a lot closer. And listening to Doc and Jackson tell stories about producing Venture Bros reminded us of what it’s like to do Tune In Next Time. Lots of weird shit gets thrown into the mix, and it’s hard to predict which stuff will turn out to matter later on. It takes a lot of agility to sustain something like that. For us, it’s just a whimsical way to keep adding content to our blog. But for Jackson Publick and Doc Hammer, the stakes were considerably higher. Our hats are off to them for delivering a show that stayed true to its insane internal logic.

A writing partner is someone who knows when the two of you should and shouldn’t be working without a net.

“He Better Be Dead”

  • by KentScandinavian alternate universe versions
  • built like a brick catastrophe
  • sly, evil smile
  • tap-dancing, yodeling, you name it!
  • “Those pleated pants aren’t super flattering.”

Tune in next time part 890      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“He better be dead,” Fleur said, still in that same sing-song voice she’d decided was the best way to communicate with me. She leaned way over the bar to address the supine bartender. “Otherwise he’ll need a good flogging for lying down on the job. But Gulliver knows that, doesn’t he?”

The fragrant bubbles in my brain were beginning to pop, each one releasing a strange thought. One of those thoughts was that there must be Scandinavian alternate universe versions of Gulliver’s Travels where the tiny people glue him down with frozen piss. I doubted that it would suffice to restrain this Gulliver, though. He was built like a brick catastrophe, lumpen but in a powerful way. The smurf mask’s expression seemed to change as I stared at it, the grin evolving into a sly, evil smile. Was it not a mask after all? Or was my over-nogged noggin making me see things?

Fleur announced, “Time for us to leave. We’re awaited in steerage.”

I was sure I’d misheard her. “You’d never willingly go down there.”

“That’s what you think. They have the best parties. There’s always bullriding, tap-dancing, yodeling, you name it!”

At the mention of yodeling, another bubble popped in my brain, making me wonder if Yolanda might be there. To my horror, I heard myself ask my wife, “Will Yolanda be there?”

Fleur shot me a sharp look, but she didn’t seem irate. She said, “Probably, which means you’ll probably want to stop off along the way for something else to wear.” She tsked. “Those pleated pants aren’t super flattering.”

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“Why is the Bartender Wearing a Smurf Mask?”

  • by jenflair for the outrageous
  • routine handling at the post office
  • Now you know.
  • a maze of twisty little urine puddles
  • diamond-scented bubbles

Tune in next time part 889      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Why is the bartender wearing a smurf mask?” I asked.

“One must have a flair for the outrageous to work in my speakeasy,” Fleur explained, as if to a child. “Nothing about this enterprise is normal. It’s clandestine! Procuring quality eggnog is not as easy as assuring your letter gets routine handling at the post office by simply affixing a rodent pelt to the corner. It requires finesse and connections and a penchant for the dramatic.”

“Rodent pelts? I guess that explains why my letters never get delivered.”

“Now you know.”

As Fleur filled a mug for herself from the nozzle, I noticed something else about the smurf-masked man on the floor. “I think there’s something wrong with him,” I said. “See all the pee?” The man was in the middle of a maze of twisty little urine puddles, all frozen to the icy floor. All the eggnog I’d ingested had filled my brain with diamond-scented bubbles, and I was pretty sure I was still officially stupid. Perhaps this was all normal? Or… “You don’t think he’s dead, do you?”

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Tune in Next Week

Ever have one of those weeks?

We here at SkelleyCo Amalgamated Fiction Enterprises LLC know that you count on us for your twice-weekly dose of thrilling suspense, swoon-worthy romance, and uncomfortable sexual situations, and we know that you are disappointed in us for failing to deliver this week. But not half as disappointed as we are in ourselves!

Our chain story, ridiculous and sprawling as it is, is like family to us. It’s the third leg of the triangle that is our writing partnership. (Better than the third rail, amiright?) And this week our beloved chain story needed a vacation. It’s been trapped on that damned zeppelin for about 5 months now!

Rest assured that all (else) is well at SkelleyCo. We’re beavering away in the Writing Cave, adding scenes to As-Yet-Untitled Ghost Novel #2, and we’ve used our dog-walking time to talk through some minor snags. Apart from the chain story, it’s all going swimmingly.

So, tune in next week to see whether these writing partners get their act together. Same bat time, same bat channel.

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Specter-Vision

Our WIP is a ghost story (perhaps we’ve mentioned that) and as it happens some of the scenes are ghost-character POV. Our take on being a ghost is that it has a definite effect on one’s outlook, and indeed upon the physical reality of one’s surroundings. Dying changes a person’s entire take on life.

Of course we always remember that when we’re doing their scenes. (Eye-roll)

Okay, there’ve only been a couple of times that we actually had to go back into the text and account for that. It tends to happen when the locale has been previous rendered in ordinary human terms, which would make another detailed description feel redundant (if the current POV character had ordinary human perceptions). It’s just one more aspect of “wearing the right head” to tackle a given character. Likewise if one member of the cast were a dog, meaning they can’t see what’s on the kitchen counters but they can smell and hear lots of stuff that the human characters can’t. So even though it’s the same house everyone’s living in, it can feel like a whole different world for certain characters. (Spoiler: the ghost POV character is not a dog.)

We don’t do real spoilers around here, so we can’t say anything too specific about what it’s like to be a ghost in our story. We asked one of the specters to sum it up for us, and here’s what we got back: “There’s some interesting scenery, but overall it’s kind of a hassle.”

A writing partner is someone whose point of view helps you express your characters’ POV.

My Wisest Option

  • by Kentbetrothed to the prophet
  • “Oh, that rhymed!”
  • Take my hand
  • viciously accurate shot
  • a fixed and unnatural grin

Tune in next time part 888      Click Here for Earlier Installments

My wisest option would have been to spit out the nog that had already gone into my mouth and then clamp my lips shut to protect myself from additional incursions of the creamy intoxicant. This was evident to me in the moment on some level, but it was not a level where decisions are made. Besides, Contrarian eggnog is delicious and I could rationalize that it offered far more nutritional merit than most strong drink. It’s also very fast-acting, especially on someone in my weakened condition, so by the time it might have dawned on me to expel the stuff, enough had been absorbed through my mucous membranes to render me officially stupid.

Fleur was aggressive with the nozzle, giving me the nog faster than I could swallow it. But she was also mindful of my wellbeing, at least enough so that she let up for a few seconds when I began spluttering.

“I’m on the eggnog train, and I don’t wanna get off it,” I mumbled.

“Slow down, or you’ll end up betrothed to the prophet,” she replied. “Oh, that rhymed!”

The business about betrothal was a Contrarian euphemism for alcohol poisoning.

“You’re driving, toots.” I opened wide for more, and she delivered. Apparently the prophet didn’t seem too infatuated with me yet. But after just a few seconds, she cut me off.

“Take my hand,” she said. When I ignored the command, she picked up the keg nozzle again and made a visciously accurate shot up my right nostril. That jolted me enough for her to get me on my feet.

“Who’s supposed to be tending this bar, anyway?” I wondered aloud. My speech was very sloppy, so Fleur’s shrug could have meant that she didn’t know, or didn’t care, or didn’t understand the question.

I peered behind the bar and saw a man lying there, his skin abnormally blue, and his face frozen in a fixed and unnatural grin.

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Fleur Straightened the Styrofoam Toilets

  • by jenideal winter drink for people
  • how to shave his back hair
  • Probably between sips
  • main delivery method: squirting
  • speak nicely to the elephant

Tune in next time part 887      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Fleur straightened the styrofoam toilets, then said, “Come on. You look like you could use a drink.”

I wanted to protest that what I needed was food and a good night’s sleep, but I knew she wouldn’t listen.

My wife grabbed my elbow and tugged me over to the back wall of the bathroom. She rotated the toilet paper holder back and forth like the dial of a combination lock, and when she was done, a section of the wall swung open like a vault door. I hoped I’d memorized the combination correctly.

The room we entered was an ice bar. Every surface was carved from ice, and the lighting was all blue. I’d heard rumors that some Royal Contrarian Airships housed eggnog speakeasies, but I hadn’t believed it. Eggnog, despite being the ideal winter drink for people who enjoy nutmeg and warm alcoholic custard, was forbidden in Contraria. Legend had it that William Penn IV got so drunk on the stuff on the eve of his wedding that he forgot how to shave his back hair. Not only that but he proposed to three other women. (Probably between sips of his favorite boozy beverage.) The next day he was viciously hungover, and married all four women in a single ceremony. His new wives were very upset (more about his hairy back than the polygamy) the honeymoon was a disaster, and the beverage was banned in Contraria forever. At least officially.

Fleur plunked me down on a chunk of ice, reached behind the bar, and grabbed a keg nozzle. That’s the other thing about Contrarian eggnog. The main delivery method: squirting directly into one’s mouth.

I shook my head. The last thing I needed right now was alcohol. I needed to keep the few wits I had about me.

“Come on,” Fleur cajoled. “Open up and speak nicely to the elephant.” Which is what Contrarian’s say in place of ‘here comes the airplane’ when they’re trying to get a child to eat.

I opened my mouth to protest that I was not a toddler, and instantly had a mouthful of warm, boozy, eggy froth. My wife, it turns out, had a lot of experience with elephants.

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Tuning In This Time

We encourage people to read our “Tune In Next Time” chain story from the beginning all the time, and guess what we just started doing? What? No! But the fact that you think that of us means you must be familiar with our work.

We plan to do a read-thru of the thing in its entirety. (This will be the first time we’ve actually done that, at least since it grew beyond about a dozen installments.) As always, when Rune Skelley says “we are reading the thing” that means “Kent is reading the thing aloud for Jen’s edification and enjoyment.” And Kent has so far read aloud the first 60 episodes.

The chain story, for those who don’t know, is a long-running gonzo epic made up of writing prompts. Each unit is typically about 200-300 words, and we mainly rely on our state-of-the-art Stichomancy Writing Prompt Generator to provide the raw materials. Most of the time Jen and Kent take turns, with Jen’s posts going up on Mondays and Kent’s on Wednesdays. On special occasions, we team up to do super-size combo prompts. It’s something we mainly treat like a game, and a way to keep the writing muscles limber. We do not take any of it seriously, except that we do take great pride in screwing each other over with awkward cliffhangers and preposterous situations. And, we make an honest effort at continuity (but we also make an effort to spend the minimum amount of time on the episodes, so sometimes we skimp on research).

So, now that we’ve embarked on this journey, how does it make us feel? Amused, largely. We crack ourselves up. The tone is wacky. We’re amazed at how quickly certain tropes and running gags showed up. Secret organizations and outrageous cornball conspiracies, for example. The tone came into focus right away, but not necessarily the flavor. Very early episodes tend to have a pronounced noir feeling about them, which isn’t something that gets maintained. We expect to get a better idea of the continuity by binging it, but it’s too soon to really say much about that. (We’re only about 7% of the way into it!)

By the way, revisiting the chain story is not our only recent trip down memory lane. Not too long ago we reread our Divided Man trilogy. That material we did take seriously, and we remain extremely proud of it. There’s danger in spending too much time looking back, but there’s also value in being reminded of how far you’ve come.

A writing partner is someone who’ll sometimes help you tame the chaos, and sometimes join you in embracing it.