Tagged: zeppelin

Frantically Winking Only Did So Much

  • by jenthe ancient experiment of pinching
  • back to the Gauntlet of Brazen Hussies
  • no idea how much blood
  • my impression of Ben Affleck
  • could not be expected to evince surprise at *anything* that was done at the funeral

Tune in next time part 817      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Frantically winking only did so much to mitigate the horror of being surrounded by my nightmares. If only the ancient experiment of pinching oneself would awaken me! In a moment of weakness I glanced back to the Gauntlet of Brazen Hussies we’d just traversed, and saw Petit Julien enter the sculpture garden.

You have no idea how much blood was spilled while I perfected my impression of Ben Affleck, but it was a lot, and even so it was nothing compared to the blood spilled by the monstrous mime. Tessa once told me about his ruthless rise to leadership of the White Faces, and how he trapped his rivals in an invisible box, cut off their oxygen supply, then insisted on the same invisible box being used as their joint coffin. After hearing that much, you could not be expected to evince surprise at *anything* that was done at the funeral, but in the name of decorum, I’ll spare you the details.

Huge and hulking, with the ground bones of his enemies smeared on his cheeks, Petit Julien barreled toward us and pantomimed yelling Tessa’s name like a lovesick beau running through the airport after his departing lover. I had the distinct impression that there was something about Tessa’s relationship with Julien that she had never told me.

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The Pirate Ship Descended from the Stage Rigging

  • by jenno regrets at all
  • dude must have extremely strong butt muscles
  • all while looking incredibly handsome
  • friends don’t let friends have mullets
  • the phrase “mild sexual shenanigans”

Tune in next time part 815      Click Here for Earlier Installments

The pirate ship descended from the stage rigging, festooned with sock pirates, and I could tell by the smile on Jim’s face that he had no regrets at all about raiding the zeppelin’s laundry when he built the prop.

I risked a glance at Petit Julien, who was still engaged in the mime classic, Bumping Enormous Hotdogs with One’s Derriere. I signaled to Jim, “That dude must have extremely strong butt muscles.”

Jim lit the fuses on the pirate ship’s cannons, recited the next few lines of the play in his southern-fried slavic accent, and signaled that on our cue, Tessa and I should sneak out the side door, all while looking incredibly handsome. I asked him once what his secret was and all he told me, with a wink, was that friends don’t let friends have mullets.

Just as the first sock-cannon boomed, Jim said the phrase “mild sexual shenanigans”, which was our cue. I gripped Tessa’s hand and we darted for the door, with Jim right behind.

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Jim was the Kind of Guy

  • by jenplayed the piano occasionally dressed only in a towel
  • sweet but also slightly tart nectar
  • we mapped our hometown carefully
  • by an unidentified hand with red ink
  • as far as my layman’s eye could see

Tune in next time part 813      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Jim was the kind of guy who played the piano occasionally dressed only in a towel, so it only made sense that he named his dog after himself. His ego knew no bounds. He once told me that women craved him like a sweet but also slightly tart nectar. And mostly they did. When Jason and I were kids we mapped our hometown carefully, and one day we found that our map was covered with hearts drawn by an unidentified hand with red ink. Jim later admitted to marking the homes of each of his girlfriends. As far as my layman’s eye could see, he had one on every street.

And he also had a dog named James, so when I called that name out in the puppet theater, it got his attention. He looked startled to see me.

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Apart From the Man in the Front Row

  • by jendressed in an all-black suit
  • suede and velvet
  • and tenacity and
  • cutest earmuffs he’s ever seen
  • make this videoconference party special

Tune in next time part 811      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Apart from the man in the front row who’d demanded to know my identity, there were only two other people attending Jim’s pornographic sock puppet show. I didn’t recognize them. On stage, Jim was dressed in an all-black suit as puppeteers often are, but his suit was made of suede and velvet and tenacity and snakeskin. On his head were what he calls the cutest earmuffs he’s ever seen. They’re shaped like penguins, and I have to admit they are adorable. Jim adopted a squeaky voice for the female sock puppet and said, still with his southern-tinged slavic accent, “Tonight we make this videoconference party specialest videoconference party ever, da?”

Tessa and I smirked at each other. That was the start of the raunchiest part of the show. Before it could really get good, though, the door behind us slammed open and an irate Petit Julien lurched into the puppet theater.

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I was in the Same Airborne Dinner Theater as Petit Julien

  • by jenmade with real human bones
  • everyone acted like you’d pooped on the floor
  • assortment of exotic jerkies
  • while grunting like a zombie
  • (and in denial)

Tune in next time part 809      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I was in the same airborne dinner theater as Petit Julien, the most dangerous mime in the world, (and in denial). All I wanted was to have a few peaceful hours alone with Tessa, the woman I loved, but our lives were too complicated for even that simple pleasure. Tessa had commandeered the theater’s sound system and was blasting Deuce Pamplemousse’s disco anthem Hop on My Caboose in what I hoped was an effort at distracting the deranged mime. Her attempt was moderately successful. While grunting like a zombie, swaying his hips, and occasionally thrusting one finger to the sky, Julien was still lurching toward me. Hearing a mime of such high calibre making any noise at all was as unexpected as finding an assortment of exotic jerkies in a vegetarian buffet. Mimes are mercilessly shamed into silence early in their schooling. If you so much as sneezed, everyone acted like you’d pooped on the floor.

The audience seemed baffled, and the actors on stage opted to wing it and pretend this was part of the show. I wished them luck as Tessa exited the control booth and the two of us ducked out the back door. I didn’t know what would happen when the song ended, but I did know that Julien had a secret recipe for his white face paint. It was made with real human bones ground into a powder and mixed with petroleum jelly. Contrarian thespians are made of stern stuff, but I wasn’t sure they were up for this particular adversary.

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“Don’t Look Now, Enzo”

  • by jenburly man with a thick neck
  • appears to be a sequined ballgown
  • fondness for partying, drinking, and womanizing
  • photographic evidence of the handholding toilet experience
  • they had a civil marriage

Tune in next time part 807      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Don’t look now, Enzo,” I whispered, “but there’s a burly man with a thick neck creeping up behind you. He’s wearing what appears to be a sequined ballgown.”

She whispered back, “It sounds like he’s the sort of guy who has a fondness for partying, drinking, and womanizing.”

This was a game we played, our own variation on What’s Their Story. Only everything we said was in code, so that we could relay important information to each other without anyone becoming suspicious.

I nodded. “I think he’s a salesman for Hizzenherrs Toilets, and always carries photographic evidence of the handholding toilet experience they try to promote.”

Her eyes went wide. “His parents founded the company. They liked to poop together because they had a civil marriage. Their motto was ‘Never go to the bathroom angry.'”

If that were true, it was worse than I thought, and the man sneaking up behind her wasn’t just any old mime. He was the most ruthless mime of them all, their king, Petit Julien.

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Rosenkrantz and His Tall Companion

  • by jencreated a lot of real headaches
  • hungry yet oddly belligerent
  • medieval nonsense from an old song
  • world’s least-sexual use of lips
  • as though by magic

Tune in next time part 805      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Rosenkrantz and his tall companion ceased being polarized in perfect synchronicity, as though by magic. The final stage before normalcy resumed had their facial features squirming around like an organic Rubik’s cube, truly the world’s least-sexual use of lips. Nonsense words sprang from those writhing lips, sounding like medieval nonsense from an old song.

“Better get some pickles ready,” Tessa said.

I nodded. Polarization makes one hungry yet oddly belligerent about eating. If you weren’t able to cram some food into a recent polarizee’s mouth pretty immediately it created a lot of real headaches.

Then I had another thought. “We could just leave.”

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Choosing a Code Name

  • by jenyou rapacious bird of prey
  • ever seen an old lady with a secret
  • using a plain old corkscrew
  • room-quaking vocal performances
  • not even her children knew

Tune in next time part 803      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Choosing a code name is something you shouldn’t overthink. Everyone wants something badass, something that will inspire one’s enemy to gasp, “Night Talon, you rapacious bird of prey! I surrender!” But it rarely works out that way. Mostly they laugh because you tried too hard. For that reason I was leaning more toward the seahorse or spaghetti end of the spectrum. I opted for Seahorse because it seemed the most innocuous. I mean, have you ever seen an old lady with a secret pasta recipe? They are vicious! My own grandmother once pinned my Aunt Züg’s hand to the table using a plain old corkscrew when Züg tried to guess the secret ingredient in her infamous buttered noodles. Züg gave one of the most room-quaking vocal performances I’ve ever heard, screaming in pain and outrage. That was the thing about Granny. Not even her children knew what might set her off.

So anyway, code names chosen, Enzo and the Seahorse were finally ready to make their next move.

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“Whatever Jason and Lyudmila are Up To”

  • by jenNot Machiavellian, but
  • a highly unusual practice
  • I’m beginning to think
  • Two coffees and four lagers later
  • illicit parrot-smuggling operation

Tune in next time part 801      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Whatever Jason and Lyudmila are up to can’t be good,” Tessa whispered in my ear. “Not Machiavellian, but probably close.”

“Whispering in front of your hostages is a highly unusual practice,” Tallman complained. “I’m beginning to think you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Tessa and I nodded at each other and turned the polarization controls up halfway. While our guests dealt with that, we sat at the bar to make plans over pickle beverages. Two coffees and four lagers later we were both queasy and had come to the conclusion that my twin and John’s sister were probably not involved in an illicit parrot-smuggling operation.

That left a lot of other options. We had to sober up and figure this out before the polarizing sofas’ batteries ran out.

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“I’ve Never Even Met Uranus”

It’s our chain story’s octocentennial! In keeping with tradition, Jen and Kent will write this entry together. Also traditional is our use of a unique source for our prompt phrases. This time we pulled them from the Wikipedia entry for Runic Magic, in honor of our pen name. Jen goes first, writing until she incorporates the first prompt phrase. Then it’s Kent’s turn. Lather, rinse, repeat.

  • shaken and thrown down like dice
  • including nine symbols
  • cut off a branch from a nut-bearing tree
  • The same curse
  • his own original method
  • ale served by the host’s wife
  • apparently meaningless utterances
  • This act of singing
  • marked on one’s fingernails
  • has a certain sound to it

Tune in next time part 799 & 800      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“I’ve never even met Uranus Pamplemousse,” I said. “He has no influence over me, evil or otherwise.”

“That’s not what Rosenkrantz said,” Tallboy said, nodding at the dude on the other sofa, who, due to his ongoing polarization, looked like he’d been shaken and thrown down like dice. “He knows all about your ‘secret’ clubhouse, and he saw the note on the whiteboard. You know, the one including nine symbols, as in nine planets! He saw how you and Uranus were connected.”

Was Jason somehow in league with Uranus Pamplemousse? Or had this guy’s ancestors neglected to “cut off a branch from a nut-bearing tree” as my Uncle Jinx used to say. Maybe his family was afflicted by hereditary stupidity. The same curse was said to have hung over my father’s line, until it was replaced by a different curse when he met Mother. It would certainly take a monumental amount of stupidity to align oneself with Uranus, but if any of my brothers would do it, it was Jason. He always had his own original method for making things worse. Like the time he performed at a mansion and threw up in the pool after drinking far too much of the ale served by the host’s wife (aka, the bride).

Rosenkrantz tried to say something, but the polarization made whatever it was into a series of apparently meaningless utterances. We all waited quietly while he tried again, and then again, but still none of it made any sense. On his next attempt, Rosenkrantz varied the pitch of his voice. This act of singing seemed to allow his meaning to come through.

The gist of it was, “Help!”

“Can’t you stop that crazy contraption now?” Talldude said. “I told you the message.”

I shrugged. Tessa pouted a little, but turned the polarization down to the lowest level. Rosenkrantz slowly took on his usual shape, all except for his fingertips. Once one has been severely polarized, it is marked on one’s fingernails forever.

“Now what?” Rosenkrantz warbled. Another side-effect of polarization is that one’s voice has a certain sound to it. Tessa and I were both trying not to laugh, and even his tall friend was smirking at him.

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