Tagged: ambassador

It All Clicked into Place

  • by jenon a golden velvet couch
  • I could both smell the cheese and hear
  • but his movements are robotic
  • chewing gum in public
  • I know you are but what am I?

Tune in next time part 905      Click Here for Earlier Installments

It all clicked into place. The medical fellows Fleur mentioned were representatives of a Contrarian pharmaceutical company looking for countries with lax drug testing laws. Three of them had been carried from the zeppelin into the summit facility on a golden velvet couch so that they could legally say they’d never set foot in Colloquillia. Contrarian pharmaceutical reps are disgusting. All three were scarfing down hors d’oeuvers. As we approached, I could both smell the cheese and hear their smacking lips.

Once the formal introduction ceremony had been completed, the woman who was the head pharmaceutical rep said, “Ambassador, you may have noticed that my colleague eats hors d’oeuvers just as smoothly as I and my assistant do, but his movements are robotically controlled! Impressive, no?”

The ambassador said, “As impressive as chewing gum in public,” which is a quite a Colloquillian compliment.

The pharma woman held out her phone for the ambassador to see. The screen showed an app for controlling the nanobots in the pharma man’s body.

I whispered to my wife, “You can’t let technology like that fall into foreign hands! That’s crazy!”

Fleur smiled. “I know you are but what am I?”

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While My Fellow Triangular Deathmates Laughed

  • by jenpresident of Poland for only one day
  • almost deserted landscapes
  • unmarried rodents
  • Maybe I’m a food snob
  • like American Ding Dongs

Tune in next time part 903     Click Here for Earlier Installments

While my fellow triangular deathmates laughed, I wracked my brain for any clue as to who the mysterious Ursula could be. It felt important to know who the ambassador loved enough to mention during an important summit such as this. Was Ursula a fellow ambassador? Was she the leader of some diabolical new Guild of, say, Stiltwalkers? Did she win a contest that allowed her to be president of Poland for only one day instead of the usual five years?

It seemed impossible that I did not already know numerous Ursulas, but that seemed to be the case. The parts of my mind where I would expect to find Ursula-related facts were almost deserted landscapes, populated by nothing but a few murky ideas that skittered through the shadows like unmarried rodents at the lab picnic.

The utter lack of anything about “Ursula” was so remarkable that I suspected my memory had been altered. While I tried to work out who my mind-tailor had been, and what their nefarious purpose might be, I heard Fleur say, “Maybe I’m a food snob, but I find Harmonious desserts to be cloying, like American Ding Dongs and the American ding-dongs who eat them.”

Was she *trying* to get us killed?

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Fleur Elbowed Me

  • by jenthe funniest women alive
  • for ever suggesting such a ridiculous trip
  • highly absorbent pants
  • not enough room for a person underneath
  • built like a municipal building

Tune in next time part 901      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Fleur elbowed me in the ribs and I blurted out an introduction. “Ambassador, I’d like you to meet one of the funniest women alive: Warlord-Apparent Fleur of Contraria.” Normally I would not describe my wife as funny, except for ever suggesting such a ridiculous trip with no preparation, but this was Colloquillia, and it was as traditional as the ambassador’s highly absorbent pants.

Fleur nodded once in acknowledgement, and the ambassador curtsied so low there was not enough room for a person underneath his outsplayed elbows. “I enjoy,” Fleur said, “how this summit facility is built like a municipal building.”

Oh dear. Her Colloquillian was very rusty. I hoped she hadn’t just created an international incident with her silly faux pas.

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Over 900!!! aka I Recognized the Colloquillian Ambassador

In honor of this milestone, we pulled our stichomancy ingredients from cat-related sources. Why cats? Because cats have nine lives, and this is number nine-hundred in the chain story. Also, we happen to like kitty cats, despite having puppy dogs as assistants. They like cats too. Lady Marzipan in particular loooves them so much that she gets too excited and the kitties get too scared. So she’s really never actually gotten to meet one. It’s tragic, really.

Anyway, enjoy this team-up installment constructed with snippets from the official site of the Cat Fanciers Association as well as an assortment of Wikipedia entries purr-taining to all things feline.

As usual, Jen goes first and only relinquishes her grip on the keyboard once the first prompt phrase has been incorporated. Then Kent takes his turn, and so on, alternating until the deed is done.

  • the same as 15 years ago, but in a different order
  • baffles everyone
  • pretty heavy for a youngster to pick up and carry around
  • has a malevolent attitude toward Stuart
  • earned the right to bear a name
  • inflicting harm on his roommates for perceived injustices
  • who ran for mayor
  • regularly post photos of him climbing into rental cars
  • napping in unusual places
  • notorious for being an expert night cat burglar

Tune in next time parts 899 & 900      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I recognized the Colloquillian ambassador from a scandal more than a decade ago. To save face, he’d changed his name, but he hadn’t done a very good job of it. All the letters were the same as 15 years ago, but in a different order. The details of the scandal make even less sense, a story that baffles everyone while actually scandalizing very few. I hoped the ambassador didn’t have any children, though, because speaking from experience, any sort of scandal involving one’s parent is pretty heavy for a youngster to pick up and carry around in their mind.

Fleur stepped back to my side and helped me get the chaos inside my clothes under control. While stabilizing the final few persistent bells and whistles, she covertly whispered to me, “Our intelligence reports that the ambassador has a malevolent attitude toward Stuart, so don’t bring him up. Whoever he is.”

According to my Colloquillian former lover (the one who taught me what I know of the language), her countrymen had very, very strong opinions about how a person earned the right to bear a name as grand and revered as Stuart. One of their folk heroes was the main figure in a legend about a lonely plumber inflicting harm on his roommates for perceived injustices, which was how he earned that right. The only other man deemed worthy of the Stuart sobriquet was my lover’s brother, who ran for mayor of the capital and was elected at age 14. His term in office was defined by scandals of his own, as the press would regularly post photos of him climbing into rental cars when the whole populace knew he wasn’t old enough to drive.

Both Stuarts were known for napping in unusual places, but it wasn’t clear to me if that was a requirement of the “job” or a perk. A final detail popped up from deep in my memory, that one of the Stuarts was notorious for being an expert night cat burglar. But which one?

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Like Any Good Bureaucracy

  • by jen(read: glitter storm)
  • visited the forbidden basement
  • I almost gasp
  • murmured to the trembling creature
  • “Gimme a fucking break, girlie!”

Tune in next time part 455      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Like any good bureaucracy, Contraria makes liberal use of red tape. But only in the low country during the week of the new moon every other leap year. The University of Pittsburghistan offers doctorate level studies in proper tape usage, and without a degree from that hallowed institution it’s impossible to enter the diplomatic corps.

This being the Paradoxica Mountains, and the moon being a waxing crescent, with the barometric pressure falling, I needed pale blue tape with multicolored sparkles (read: glitter storm). Enigma Fortress kept their tape in an underground vault behind a door marked “No Admittance: Authorized Personnel Only.” Being the highest ranking officer in the fortress I decided I was authorized, and so visited the forbidden basement to get the consecrated tape and other stationery supplies to file my report.

I almost gasped when I flipped on the fluorescent lights and beheld a shaggy white bear-like beast huddled in the corner. It looked for all the world like a yeti, but that was obviously ridiculous. I approached slowly and murmured to the trembling creature, hoping to get a better look and determine if it was actually a dog or what.

Its growls sounded like a person imitating an animal more than an actual animal. I screwed up my courage and tugged on the furry head. It came right off, exposing the pink bald scalp I had hoped to never see again.

“Arlo!” I spat. “I knew you were behind the poisoning attempt. Why are you disguised as a mythical creature?”

“Gimme a fucking break, girlie!” my nemesis cried. “Everyone knows that yeti are real!”

“I’m assuming you don’t know what they do with yetis here in the mountains.”

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Lyudmila Speared Me With Her Gaze

  • k-avatarescape from one calamity
  • in a variety of frownings and snortings
  • I’d like to have another kiss
  • no longer aimless
  • “I screwed up. I screwed up bigtime.”

Tune In Next Time Part 39                             Click Here for Earlier Installments

Lyudmila speared me with her gaze through the sights of her pistol, and I could tell she recognized me instantly. Secret service agents began diving on top of Freya, thinking they were protecting the president. Soon they were heaped up to the ceiling. Aunt Züg flung herself behind the dogpile.

That left just Lyudmila, the phony Tessa, and me.

The strange noise coming from Not-Tessa climbed in pitch and volume, then she bolted for the exit, moving with superhuman speed. Rather than give chase, Lyudmila kept me squarely in her sights and approached. “Forget her,” she said, still training the weapon on me. “Let’s go, back steps.”

Story of my life, to escape from one calamity by being engulfed in another. At least this meant the conspirators in the White House didn’t have the real treasure, which was with the real Tessa. I hoped. As she directed me along the passages, Lyudmila finished ridding herself of cake and toothpaste in a variety of frownings and snortings. “You don’t need the gun,” I told her. “I should be thanking you.”

“Shut up,” she said. “Do you know what I’ve been through to track you down? And where the hell is John?” I shrugged, my thoughts and concerns now aimless. Much as I worried about Tessa, I couldn’t help thinking how I’d like to have another kiss from Lyudmila. “Well? Where is John!” she demanded.

“You told me to shut up,” I said. “And anyway, I have no idea where he is, or Tessa. And I think we need to find them.” My concerns were no longer aimless. “Something’s going on here, and one or both of them are mixed up in it.”

Suddenly Lyudmila collapsed in tears. She holstered the Glock and said, “Don’t you think I know that?” After three great, heaving sobs, she said, “I screwed up. I screwed up bigtime.”

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Tessa Lowered Her Hood As Directed

  • by jenShe trembled and twitched
  • throb of blood-vessels in my ears
  • worms were in a frenzy
  • the nude celebrity site
  • Others were silent.

Tune In Next Time Part 38                             Click Here for Earlier Installments

Tessa lowered her hood as directed, and stood. Something about her seemed wrong, her movements were not the fluid, graceful motions of the girl I knew so long ago. She trembled and twitched, her skin seeming to crawl across her frame. The throb of blood-vessels in my ears sounded as if my head were packed full of worms and the worms were in a frenzy. I hadn’t been this disturbed since the time I saw my father’s scandalous pictures on the nude celebrity site.

“Never mind about those ninjas and pirates,” I said, forgetting to employ Jason’s trademark lisp. “That’s not Tessa! That’s an impostor!”

Not-Tessa twisted her head to look at me, emitting a faint keening sound. Some of the secret service agents began muttering into their radios. Others were silent.

“Then I suppose we are all impostors!” The voice came from the direction of the birthday cake on the table, which suddenly erupted, pelting us all with chocolate crumbs and minty blue frosting. On the platter, Lyudmila, contortionist and John’s sister, finished unfolding herself and stood, brandishing a Glock.

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The Body of Water Mother Was Pointing At

  • k-avatarother worker won employee of the month
  • please put your hood back on
  • we’re trying to make our own luck
  • bedeck me in the other world
  • posted images of a coded note card

Tune In Next Time Part 37                             Click Here for Earlier Installments

The body of water Mother was pointing at was officially known as the Sea of Imbroglio, which was the nearest my father would ever come to a memorial. It formed in the same cataclysmic events that expanded and merged the Great Lakes, eradicated Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Michigan, and took Father’s life. Mother wept at its mere mention. Now it was to be the staging ground for her next big scheme?

The truth struck me like a jai-alai serve to the head. This wasn’t Mother, it was her twin sister, Aunt Züg! That was why she failed to recognize Freya or me. I squinted at Freya, trying to read her awareness of the ruse. Without the sitting president to back my play, it was too risky calling out Aunt Züg’s deception.

“Tessa, darling,” the ersatz Ambassador to South Dakota said, “have you seen Jason’s brother at all lately? I promised him to Jorgensen when this is all over.” Tessa shook her head. “I see. Now, please put your hood back on. Listen up, all of you. The recipe for revolution is three parts chance and two parts ideology, and we’re trying to make our own luck. None of us can afford to slouch like some other worker won employee of the month. It’s no use crying, ‘Let them bedeck me in the other world with ribbons and medals,’ for it’s in this world that the Ambassador to North Dakota posted images of a coded note card showing, we believe, the only weakness in his citadel’s defenses. It’s these ninjas and pirates whose alliance we must exploit. And it’s the precious treasure brought to us by Tessa — please lower your hood now — that makes it all possible!”

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“That’s All Very Impressive, I’m Sure, Jason.”

  • by jenon this green, almost transparent sea
  • Whenever she wore pants
  • we could be dead by morning
  • makes me want to move to South Dakota
  • bloodless cheeks

Tune In Next Time Part 36                             Click Here for Earlier Installments

“That’s all very impressive, I’m sure, Jason,” said my mother, the former president and current Ambassador to South Dakota. “But do you really think this a time to be spitting mad flow? We could be dead by morning, all of us.”

The fact that my own mother couldn’t tell me apart from my twin is not something that makes me want to move to South Dakota, that’s for sure. But I didn’t say that out loud. Out loud I said, “Word,” and crossed my arms over my chest in my best imitation of Jason’s ludicrous posturing.

If Tessa’s bloodless cheeks were any indication, she had not expected Mother’s arrival. The poor girl was trembling. That was good news for me, as it kept her attention off of me.

Whenever she wore pants, my sister Freya was practically indistinguishable from her brother Thor, but that should not have fooled our mother, so her next statement surprised me. “Thor,” she said, turning her withering gaze to Freya, “the Pirate-Ninja Alliance are in formation on this green, almost transparent sea.” She indicated a swath of ocean off the South Dakota coast.

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I Think This Paragraph

  • k-avatarthis paragraph is about the plot
  • A feeling of dreamy peacefulness
  • Hot punch is a pleasant thing
  • The ambassador has a good nose
  • ruined it all at Homecoming

“I think this paragraph is about the plot against the ambassador,” Herman said, pointing to a passage of gibberish. “If we could decode it, you’d see. I mean it must be something nefarious, otherwise it wouldn’t be written in such a fiendish code.”

“The ambassador has a good nose for plots, and he doesn’t look worried,” I replied. “In fact, he looks quite relaxed. A feeling of dreamy peacefulness came over me, just from seeing the expression on his face. He was that calm.”

“I blame the punchbowl. Although I should blame all those invited to the soiree, who all failed to show up. The ambassador and his silly sense of duty not to let all that punch go to waste.”

“Hot punch is a pleasant thing, and it was cooling off. Besides, the desertion of the entire guest contingent is your fault.”

“Me!”

“Yes, Herman, you. With your alarmist rhetoric about plots. Just because of one cryptogram. Really, you might have kept your voice down.”

Herman chewed his mustache. “You’re right, Max. I always overreact, and it ruins things. I ruined the ambassador’s fete with my fretting, just like I ruined it all at Homecoming.”

I tutted. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. Remember, someone really did release porcupines in the ductwork at Homecoming. You should have been hailed a hero.”

Herman shrugged. “Do you know, the ambassador was there? Well, he was just the jester in the Homecoming court at the time, but he hung around the gym after everyone else stormed off.”

Of course he did, I thought. There was an unattended punchbowl.

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