Hi
I'm sure it is not a big deal for anyone else, but I miss the fun SJ and I had with that Shovel thread.
Sniff Sniff *wipes at a tear*
MDG
The adventures of S.J. and Mike - Part two - looking for Mr. Goodshovel
Hi
I'm sure it is not a big deal for anyone else, but I miss the fun SJ and I had with that Shovel thread.
Sniff Sniff *wipes at a tear*
MDG
*shuffles awkwardly* *mumbles* I miss you, too, Mike... And Jack. And his rattlers. And CW's cat. I DON'T miss the desert. Or the roasted rat. Or the horse burgers - how is your aunt, by the way? And I ESPECIALLY don't miss that @#*%ing seagull.
Or the Shov-
Um, can we call it a 'Spade' or 'Digging Implement'? Otherwise I'll be in trouble with my Therapist. Again.
www.sjhigbee.com
Ooo... I have an idea! Let's take a holiday together! Are you up for that? Nowhere near a desert, of course. Or the Colorado. And particularly nowhere near Las Vegas or slot machines... In fact I'm feeling slightly allergic to the US of A generally.
No disrespect to any Americans, of course. But as some of you might recall, I've had a few rather hairy moments - well... days, weeks and months, really... *deep calming breaths - think of daisies on the lawn*
But... what about hopping on a plane and coming over to the Big Smoke, eh? Let me show the London sights. And... we'll go for nice soothing walks by the sea. Collect shells. Eat ice cream. Take it easy. Very gently and easy. Not an adventure in sight. Or a therapist...
What about it, buddy? C'mon. You'd love it!
www.sjhigbee.com
Wow an Invite to England!
Can we see castles? I wanna go to Wales. Can we go to Wales? Can we see castles in Wales? Whats wrong with Dahtoe?
I haven't been to England since I was 18, which was obviously just a few years ago. I went to Rome earlier this year, but since I don't speak Italian, I had less conversations than usual. Also the beer was nasty. Now mind you, English beer is not as good as American beer, but I'll give them a honorable mention and since they did discover hops and IPA they...
Oh wait where was I? I'm going to England! I had better start packing. See you later. I'm going to fly over the pond!
CrystalWizard, Maybe you should change the title of this post to
England Dreaming
MDG
If anyone needs to reach me my email is Alexbone17@aol.com
I did find myself wondering whether I'd made a mistake inviting Mike over, as I drove up to Heathrow to pick him up. I mean - I sort of thought I'd have a couple of weeks to get things ready... air out the spare room... buy in a few tins of baked beans, spaghetti hoops, fish fingers, chips, sausages, tomato ketchup - you know - push the boat out - provide the best English cuisine on offer at Tescos.
But no - I get a quick text last night to say he's just boarding the plane - and will be landing at 5.45 am... Will I pop over to meet him??? He's looked at the map at where I live and reckons that I'm just down the road from Heathrow airport, so it shouldn't be a problem... Well, distance-wise, he's right, of course. Let's face it, no one's very far from anyone in England. The catch is, the traffic. There are people who have spent two thirds of their summer holiday sitting in a traffic jam on the M5 - why do you think we all fly off to Spain??? It 's not the weather - it's the fact that once we've been dumped at the Costa Mosta by ScamAir, we don't have to drive...
So I get up at stupid o'clock this morning to pick up Mike, having spent most of the night clearing out the spare room as best as I could. The black bin liners full of clothes can be piled up in the corner to make quite a comfy seat... And I personally think you can never have enough reading matter - although I have stuck a warning label on the stack of books that collapsed on Aunty Gertrude when she stayed. She's due for her hip replacement operation early next year, courtesy of the National Health Service fast-track system. Blames me for the accident - which is just not fair. I mean - what idiot would try to prise a book out of the BOTTOM of a pile that touches the ceiling??? Which is why I put a PostIt note, warning Mike only to choose books from the stacks that are 6 feet high, or less.
I have to say it was a bit of shock when he finally ambled into the Arrivals Lounge. For starters, he was an hour later than everyone else on his flight - Airport Security were a bit twitched about his hair. Figured that he might be hiding illegal substances in it. I didn't say anything to him, of course. Wouldn't want to hurt his feelings. But... it seems to me that Little Wax Head Boy has invited the rest of the family to come and live on Mike's head - and results aren't pretty. It wouldn't be so bad if his hair wasn't so long. But he reckons the last time he went to the barber, the guy tried to sue him for damages as the scissors got stuck, so he's given up trying to get it cut.
And you know he was talking about quaffing expensive beer? Well, judging by the size of his belly, he's been overdoing it. I might have to put him on a diet while he's here - for his own good, of course. Good job I got some packets of low-fat crisps in...
And then, as we're loading his duty free drinks, toothbrush and spare sock (apparently he could only find one...) into the trunk of my car, he mentions that he's going to need an orthpedic pillow... WHERE am I gonna find one of those in Littlehampton?
Still... it's great to see him. He's just unpacking and getting settled in. It's ok about the pillow - I suggested that he uses some of the bin liners, instead-
WHAT was that crash?? Oh, Hell's teeth! He's only gone and knocked down one of the book stacks - and it's the one I was reading for SFReader, which I'd sorted in ISBN number order... Yeah - hang on, Mike. Stop yelling - I'm getting the books off you, but I can't go too quickly or they might get damaged... Oh no - look at this! You've bent my copy of the latest Terry Pratchett...
When did you say you were going home?
www.sjhigbee.com
Huh
SJ is all sweetness and punch and then I check SFR and she is telling everyone I have a big belly. Hey I rode my bike to work all summer to make sure my beer belly didn't-oh never mind.
What SJ isn't telling you about is her secret plan to have me do about 10 years worth of 'upkeep' on her little cottage that she 'might have let go for a while.'
For a while, in her case, means since her granny owed the place. I barely finished my fish and chips before she asked for my help with a little something. That little something was a reshingling the entire roof.
I still haven't recovered from jet lag and now I'm working on zero sleep to try to finish this before the dark clouds overhead over up. I know Crystalwizard will kill us if the books SJ is supposed to review get wet.
Oh shot I gotten go. My break is over and she is telling me to get back onto the roof, since it has already started to rain. Dang I didn't even finish my porter yet.
MDG
If anyone needs to reach me my email is Alexbone17@aol.com
Ok... This visit has already gone to Hades in a handcart and Mike has been only been here a day.
I have to say - I'm feeling really let down by you SFReader guys who Mike hangs out with. WHY didn't someone PM me to give me a heads-up that the situation had gotten so serious??? We're into a world of wierdness, here. I mean, I'd never have called Mike lazy - he does far too much writing for that... But he used to be able to relax... Chill out...
No longer. Ever since he's been here, he's been buzzing around the place, hammer in hand, fixing the place up. I mean, six hours into his visit, once I'd dabbed some witchhazel on his bruises after the bookslide, he was up a ladder, busy stripping the roof off cos he reckoned it looked 'hinkey'. I had to talk a mile a minute to persuade him that the sag in the middle was cos the roofbeams had settled that way - it's an English method of building. So then, he's up there in a thunderstorm, replacing them all... While I'm getting drenched at the bottom of the ladder, wondering what I'll say to his Mom if he gets zapped by lightning...
He was all set to dig a swimming pool in the back garden this morning. With a trowel. Seeing as I don't have a shov- I mean, spade on the property.
Last night, I took him to the local pub for a slap-up home cooked meal of bangers, mash and mushy peas. So, there he is shovel- I mean *gulp* pushing the food into his mouth - and then he just freezes. There's this waxy look to his face - and a lock of grease-caked hair slithers down his cheek, wraps around a sausage and as his whole hair-do sort of writhes around his scalp and re-settles with a disgusting sucking sound - I realise the sausage has gone... And no wonder he reckons beer is expensive - I watched his hair slurp at least two pints, last night. It didn't help that a couple of the neighbours set him up with several drinks - just to watch his hair do its thing. They reckoned it was a crazy Yank trick brought on by eating too many McBurgers (they're not the shiniest tools in the box, this pair. Caught last year trying to glue-sniff a Pritt stick...)
Whereas, once Mike snaps out of this trance-thing, he hasn't got a clue what's been happening. WHY didn't anyone warn me he'd gotten into this state?? How come Little Wax Head Boy has got such a grip on Mike? Anyone contacted Scotty to find out what he knows about this problem? (Come to think of it, it does explain a lot about 'Fear and Trembling'...)
So, I'm appealing for information. Urgently. Only... try to keep it away from poor old Mike, guys. You know how he panics when things go wrong. And I'm going to keep him occupied - and away from here. My neighbours reckon I'm peculiar enough, as it is. Without Mike finally hosing the last of my reputation down the plug-hole.
Starting tomorrow, I'm taking him out and about. We're visiting London on the train - they're broader-minded up there. Thought I'd take him to see the Tower of London and the crown jewels and then go for a nice peaceful ride on the London Eye...
What could possibly go wrong with that itinerary?
www.sjhigbee.com
I don't know why SJ keeps bugging me about my hair.
I mean didn't the English invent the mohawk anyway? Once we get to London and see all those punks, SJ will realize that my hawk is actually pretty tame.
Other than the food, London was great, at least at first. I did want to go to the Tower of London and see the Giant's suit of armor that would actually fit me quite well and also see where my ancestor Prince Griffith the second to last Real Prince of Wales, fell to his death trying to escape that bastard, King Henry. So yeah, I was excited.
But she, (just like a woman) wants to see the crown jewels first. I had already seen these with my folks, but I thought I would humor her, even if I did just want to see the weapons and stuff. Everything was going well except the boring part. (Ooo ahh, so shiny) When I think all the excitement caused me to drift off.
Next thing I now, the alarms are going off and these guys are grabbing me. I look over and see SJ's face redder that the swirling security lights. The men kept screaming something about missing rings or something. Half the time I can barely understand these guys and I thought they invented English?
I was searched about 14 times, but when they didn't find anything they had to let me go. One guy even ran a metal detector over my very trim stomach, but of course found nothing there.
SJ was so freaked we had to leave before seeing the armor or at least I think she was freaked. It is hard to tell how someone is feeling when they are concealing their entire face with a scarf. So now I have been left as an Internet Pub, while SJ, 'makes a few phone calls.'
I wonder if she will be willing to go to a Punk Rock show with me?
If anyone needs to reach me my email is Alexbone17@aol.com
The things you get in the mail!
Just opened my email to find a short note from Mike, who is supposed to be working on PR for Abandoned Towers, telling me he's going to be a little late getting home, and can I arrange transport to get him and SJ off some deserted island they've wound up on. Sent from his Blackberry, of course, so there's not much information. Deserted island? Maybe I can send that stupid seagull out to fly them off. Wish I knew just how close to Borneo it was.
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What a disaster! We are in SOOOO much trouble...
There we were, admiring the Crown Jewels - I know he's got this 'I'm a Yank, you can't impress me' attitude, but even Mike was awestruck into stunned silence at the sheer gleaming magnificence of some of those jewels.
When his face goes all waxy again and his hair does that slithering thing. A wax-blobbed lock seems to sort of dissolve as it reaches the glass of the display cabinet - and the next thing, Mike's hair is waving around inside the display cabinet, fanning out a bit like the tentacles of an anemone. Then this little waxy hand stretches out and a gloopy voice mutters, 'Ooo, pretty. So shiny.' It gave me the shivers, I can tell you.
By now, we're attracting a LOT of attention. A bunch of Chinese tourists are snapping away - even though you're not s'posed to take pics. I tried thumping Mike a couple of times to snap him out of his trance, but nothing doing. He was gone... All rigid and waxen. That's when the alarms started. And when I swung round to check out the display cabinet, The Orb was gone. I mean, I sort of caught sight of the diamond-studded cross as Mike's hair thickened into a wriggling mass as it wrapped around the jewel. The glass shivered and creaked as his hair retracted in a ball - but didn't break. Meantime, Mike is still out of it, with his head resting against the glass cabinet. And The Orb is gone, as his hair writhes around and settles back into its customary spiky style.
By now, security is swarming all over us. Some child is screaming that the 'bad man has the jewel hidden in his head.' And this is when Mike finally comes to - all dopey and protesting his innocence.
Well, that's our day out down the drain... Rest of the time was spent in a stinky little room where I was searched, every little nook and cranny. And asked over and over what happened. Not that they were very happy with my answers. They must've done the same with Mike- though he didn't say very much about the whole thing. Except complain that he didn't understand what they were saying. It didn't help that the security guy interrogating us had a North country accent thick enough to spread on toast. Never mind about Mike having problems working out what he was saying - I was having a struggle.
Finally, they decided to let us go. Well, as I kept pointing out - if we've stolen something, find it and then charge us. I felt horrible walking out of there - so guilty. So I wrapped my scarf around my face, just in case the news cameras camped outside covering the sensational disappearance of The Orb, caught sight of us. Aunt Gertrude never misses the Six o'clock news and I'm in enough trouble with her, just now...
As we stagger off toward the nearest Tube station, I get the feeling we are being followed. So I dodge into an Internet Cafe. But Mike is being all awkward (even more than usual...) and won't come in. The only good thing about it is that he finally decides to do something about the torrent of e-mails and calls he's been getting from CW - he sends her a message telling her that we've been abducted and taken to a desert island.
So guys, don't let on that Mike is here on holiday with me, if you see her, please. He's frankly a mess and I don't think slaving over a hot Abandoned Towers is the best thing for him, right now.
I'm hoping tomorrow to take him on another outing. Somewhere his hair can't possibly cause any problems. We're off to Bovington Tank Museum - what could possibly go wrong, there?
www.sjhigbee.com
Wow
SJ sure has a lot of cool things in here guest room. I guess since her family has lived her for so long these old artifacts just sort of pile up. Still, why does she let her place go when she has all these old jewels laying around. She could probably just sell a few of these off and be fine.
This Orb is the best though. I can't stop staring at it. SJ is off making tea again. Does she have to do that like eight times a day? I must have dozed off. Where was I? Wow this orb thing almost seems to be glowing. Hmm that is strange. Wasn't I sitting on the other side of the bed?
Huh, what is SJ all worried about now? She is all in a tizzy about the long drive I asked her to go on. Shoot after that stupid tank museum, I feel like taking a break. Chepstow Castle in Wales. I don't remember asking her to take me there at all. She must be drinking too much tea. But it does sound cool. Oh it's in Wales, even better!
Sheesh she acts like it is so far. Driving from here to Wales is like going on a wood run back home. Big deal. She says she can take me in the morning. Sweet. It is about time we saw some real castles. Now where did I leave those Samual Smiths?
MDG
If anyone needs to reach me my email is Alexbone17@aol.com
Took forever to catch that stupid seagull. wound up having to put out 3 cans of cat food and let it gorge itself. Caught it while it was sleeping off the cat food and outfitted it with a GPS unit.
It's off and away now. Here's hoping it knows how to find Mike. I've got the GPS unit hooked up to a retransmitter and the cost guard is standing by to rescue him and SJ once the gull finds them.
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Thank goodness our day out at Bovington went off smoothly - no 'wax' incidents, I'm pleased to say. Altho' Mike wasn't in the best of moods.
I thought he'd enjoy seeing all those cool tanks, with their riveting history. But he grumbled constantly about the car journey. Kept telling me to 'open her up' and 'put the pedal to the metal'. Whatever that means. I've got perfectly respectable mats in my little Ford Fiesta, I'll have you know. And as for 'opening her up' - as I kept telling him HOW??? There were always cars ahead of us. So then he'd jab me in the ribs and yell, 'There's a space, go on, just zip by...' When we'd have been smeared across the radiator grill of some 42 tonner coming towards us.
And halfway around Bovington museum, when I'd just got onto explaining to him the crucial role of the Sherman T in WW2, he got all fidgety and wanted to know whether there were any swords or suits of armour. So we had a nice cup of tea and went home again. With him still moaning about the traffic, all the cars, the speed I was driving at... Meaning, I was obeying all the speed restrictions (there's lots and lots, by the way.) I was taking extra care to make sure I wasn't breaking any rules, because there was this black SUV four or five cars back. It tailed us all the way to Bovington and all the way back...
So when we got home to a tasty, nourishing meal of spaghetti hoops on toast (Mike grumbled about that too. Bit of a cheek from someone who served up rat burgers night after night, when I was his guest...) my jaw grazed the floor, when he announced that he wanted to drive to Wales the following day. Wales! He'd been nearly cross-eyed with frustration on the drive to Bovington. Wales was a whole lot further... But - nope, I couldn't talk him out of it. Mike wanted to go to Chepstow Castle. When I mentioned the price of fuel, he just sniggered and said I should think about selling some of the cool stuff in my spare room.
I smiled and said it was too precious. I mean, I know my signed copy of Terry Pratchett's 'Hogfather' would be worth a bit - even with the crayon drawing little Johnny did of the pig arriving at Crumley's all over the first 30 pages... But I couldn't part with it. I don't ever part with a book...
So, this morming we set off. And now... here we are. Finally arrived in Chepstow. Thank goodness. If I'd had to spend another hour in the car with Mr Why-aren't-we-there-yet, one of us would have ended up on the grass verge. And it wouldn't necessarily have been Mike...
And after raising a second mortgage on the house to pay for the fuel to get here - Mike threw a tantrum cos I wouldn't take us to St Justinans Country Hotel for our stay. Accused me of being mean! Well, then I lost it. Parked on a double yellow - hauled him out've the car and took him to the nearest hole in the wall, punched in my PIN number and showed him the extent of my wealth. He had the grace to look a bit ashamed, but still went on muttering about the 'stuff in my spare room'.
So, we've ended up here, at the Rat and Dog Inn on a 'bargain' package. Meaning our rooms would make the average wardrobe look spacious. Never mind. I'm too tired to care. And tomorrow, we're off on a proper tour of the Castle. I think *yawn* Mike's headed down to the bar. Maybe Little Wax Head Boy will keep them all amused with his beer-sucking trick... Hope... it'll... be... ok...zzzzzzzzzz
www.sjhigbee.com
*<standing by the road waving and grinning like an idiot>*
Why is SJ all mad.
It wasn't like I asked her to take me to Chepstow, I thought it was her idea, but then she keeps belly aching about it. Sure she doesn't have a lot a money, but at least the guy in the pub let me drink all night when I gave him one of those rings I found.
And who was that weird person jumping up and down when we drove by today?
So anyway what is it with this counrty and they bed and breakfasts? I go out to have me a few pints and then try to get back into out room and find the place all locked up. It was only 2am sheesh. I tried to bang on SJ's window to get her to let me in, but would she...no. You would think that she was the one drinking.
As I headed back into the dark wet streets a light fog began. Everything was oddly deserted and the fog grew thicker. Surrounded by the ancient buildings, my mind almost felt like I had gone back in time or entered some creepy horror movie, so naturally I thought that was super cool.</o>
Then I heard it. Clip, clop, clip clop. That was that, I wondered? Clip, clop, clip clop. It was growing closer. Clip, clop, clip clop. I looked around; there was no one on the street. Clip, clop, clip clop. </o
Then I saw it. Out of the mists, coming strait at me, was a wild-eyed black horse. Clip, clop, clip clop, clip, clop, clip clop. I could see the whites of his rolling eyes as it gazed at me. The blood froze in my veins and I felt like I couldn't move. The black beast stared strait at me as it drew nearer. It was only then that I saw that it had a saddle on, but no rider!
What had happened to its master? </o
Was this a ghost horse? </o
Had it killed it rider?</o
So after this unnerving event and a night of sleeping under a few soggy newspapers in the alley, she has the nerve to tell me, "I look a fright."
I was about to tell her what's for when I heard a familar squawk overhead. It was Dahtoe! I was pleased as punch, as the English would say, but SJ started weaving a string of curses that would have made one of those tank drivers she loved so much, blush.
Strangely enough Dahtoe didn't land and instead began to fly towards Chepstow castle. Before long I lost him in the fog. It looked like a storm could be brewing, but with all the fog around these parts who could tell?
We were about to head to the castle,when my cell rang. It is Jack Primus of all people. Sorry I need to take this. He doesn't sound happy.
MDG
If anyone needs to reach me my email is Alexbone17@aol.com
WHAT was I thinking, inviting Mike over to England???
Listening to that dreary woman droning on about how I had to 'emote my experiences in order to come to terms with them' must've softened my brain! I'm holding that dratted therapist responsible for this mess...
Well I'm up to my elbows in, now!! I've had NIGHTMARES about that seagull, I'll have you know! And there's Mike - who looks like something CW's cat sicked up - crooning and calling to the psychotic bag of feathers like it's some pet! Doesn't he know it's related to dinosuars? It's certainly got the cuteness factor of a velociraptor.
I wouldn't mind - but it's only Dahtoe that gets to see the softer side of Mike this morning, that's for sure. He's in FOUL mood. Apparently I'm the hag from Hell for not opening my bedroom window at 2 am and letting him in. It's all very well for him - he gets to go back home after this car crash of a holiday. But there's my REPUTATION to consider. Aunt Gertrude's first cousin's husband's niece and her family live in Chepstow. What if word got back to Aunt G. that a man was seen climbing thro my window at night? I'm in enough trouble with the Family as it is. It was one of the reasons I didn't want to come to Chepstow, by the way. Although Mr I-don't-know-what-you're-talking-about is squirming out from taking any responsibility for THAT dreadful decision...
And now, Jack is on the phone. And Mike also reckons that CW must've tracked him down. All the people I most don't want to see in the world, since that awful time with the Shov- Digging Implement.
*Deep calming breaths and focus on the positive* We did see a really nice lady yesterday, smiling and waving at us as we crawled by in yet another traffic jam. Mike thought it was wierd, but it certainly cheered me up as Mike stopped nagging me to mount the grass verge and drive up the inside of the car queue for all of ten minutes while he rambled on about how peculiar the English are.
Anyway - onwards and upwards, as Aunt G would say. Well, before she got buried by the books in my spare room, anyhow. These days she's rather grumpy...
We'll go and see the castle - and I'm going to ignore Mike's groaning about the weather. You'd think he was made of sugar the way he's moaning about the drizzle. It's only a bit of misty rain, for goodness sake. We'll have a nice time tramping around the ruins and - maybe - I can cheer him up by getting him to imagine what it was like when Edward Longshanks had it built... The knights clumping around... the peasants toiling... the women embroidering...
C'mon, Mike. I've got my National Trust card and we've travelled all this way. Put away your phone - you can chatter away to Jack any old time. Let's go and see us a castle...
www.sjhigbee.com
Okay, this is strange. That seagull just landed on my back porch and it had an odd coin in its beak. But what's even stranger is the note that was tied around it's leg. I guess it must have ditched the GPS unit in the ocean somewhere, which would why the coast guard called last night and said there wasn't anything at 'that location' but a school of dolphins.
Of course I couldn't get to the note until it gorged itself on cat food again. Now it's too fat to fly. I've carted it off to the local zoo, I'm tired of the thing. The note's a mess. The gull pooped all over it, or something, and all I can make out is
....ack........with a sh..... and ...... SJ sa.... but we'll......tomorr....
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Why did she have to mention Longshanks? That bastard killed Lwellyn Ap Griffiths and William Wallace, two of my favorite people in History. Did you hear about the time the English soldiers cut the tail off of Willaim Wallace's horse, well he--- Oh sorry Jack I forgot you were there. No, I don't think we are in trouble. What are you talking about? We are just here on a holiday. Yes,we are in Chepstow.
Shoot Jack told me to stay away from the castle and that he was heading to Wales. I better not tell SJ, she is barely holding it together as it is. Seeing Dahtoe sent her in a tizzy and now I feel bad. I wanted to come over here because I missed her so much, but I think our presence is bringing back some really bad memories for her. Ihope she is okay. Still, I'm a guy so I can't tellher that. "Hurry up, we are going to be so late they will close the place down before we get there!"
---Typing on my phone now--- This place is great! I love it here. Wales is the coolest. Hold on, SJ just shrieked! "SJ what's wrong?"
SJ: "I just saw a huge cat and I thought it might have been Crystalwizards! My goodness it is so big."
MDG: "Yeah it sure is. I've never seen a cat that big, but it is solid black so it can't be her's. Oh wow, where is it going. Cool this place has a dungeon!" Pause, "Come on SJ it is okay. I'm sure people come down here all the time."
Wait, what is that light? It seems to be a glowing circle. It is right here on the wall. It looks about the size of that orb I found in the guest room. This is really strange! I wish I had brought that with me. Oh, I'm getting dizzy. My head feels all tingly. There is the Orb! Where did that come from? Something is moving it, moving it towards the blinding light, like a key fits a lock.
Oh I feel faint. Maybe I should have listened to Jack!
LWHB: He he he
If anyone needs to reach me my email is Alexbone17@aol.com
Mike? Mike - where are you? C'mon, this isn't funny. You were the one who wanted to come down here in this smelly old dungeon. This hide and seek biz is just childish...
Ow! You'd think Health & Safety would do something about the height of these tunnels, wouldn't you? I mean - I'm nearly bent double, creeping along in the gloom. Old Longshanks can't spent much quality time down here, is all I can think...
Mike? Is that you? Oh... there you are- WHAT is going on with your hair? It's whipping and thrashing around like a nest of snakes- and what is that? Floating just in front of you? It's- oh no! It's The Orb! One of the Crown Jewels. Hells teeth - Mike! This is no time to go all zoned out and waxy on me! Pull it together! If you're found down here with THAT, they'll fling the pair of us in a prison and throw away the key. Mike! Get your hair to do it's thing and hide it, again... Please! Right. I don't like doing this, but...
Ow! My hand! It's like hitting a plank of wood, smacking your face... Please - you've got to make that Orb thing disappear back in your hair.
Oh no... it's moving. Towards the swirling blue light in the far corner of this crypt. Mike? Hey, wait for me!
Ahh! My leg! Tripped over a boulder or something in the dark. Stupid lumps of stone and whatnot down here. You'd think they'd keep it tidy. Someone should sue...
Mike? Hey, I'm here. Got your hand, now. Maybe... we shouldn't be going towards the light. It's... very bright...
Mike - what's that? What're you whispering, buddy? Hey - what's that - tears rolling down your face... and they're wax! Leave? I'm not leaving - it's ok... No - it's not dark. It's light, Mike. No, it's not darken, Mike - it's bright... too blinding... Mike - don't let go! Don't... Ahhhh!
www.sjhigbee.com
Oh Man...what happened?
I feel like I hamburger exploded inside my head. Were am I? I can't see a thing. Oh wait, the Dungeon. Something weird must have happened.
Ouch oh man, it felt like I left my brain on the floor when I sat up. Maybe I can use my cell to see a little bit. Oh wait, I have a text. It is from Jack. It says to get to "get the *bleep* outta there!"
Maybe we should. I'm going to try to stand. Why is this part of the floor so soft? Oh wait, I'm standing on SJ. I hope she won't mind my big footprint on her back. But I need to get her up and outta here, I don't know what is going on, but I have a feeling we might be in trouble again. Oh man, she sounds worse than I do. I hope-
Wait, what is that? People are heading down the stairs towards us. Lots of people. This can't be good. I'm going to take SJ and head deeper into this tunnel. Maybe there is another way out.
Huh, what is this doorway? This wasn't here before. I don't really have a choice, I have to take her this way. What is that light up ahead? It looks like that Orb. Not only is it glowing...it is floating! Well we've seen stranger, right SJ? Come on we have to follow that light, at least it will help us see, although I don't like any of this. Those footsteps are still coming. I think we are in trouble again. Why does this always happen to us?
Dang
If anyone needs to reach me my email is Alexbone17@aol.com
Huh? Whassup - ow... My head... oooo my back... feels like my spine has been majorly redesigned - and not in an improving sort've way. Ahh... I'm floating - in a - jerky sort've way-
Mike! Hey - put me down. I'm not a sack of spuds - and you're no fireman. Why did you sling me over your shoulder? Yeah - well I'm awake now, so you can stop moaning.
I had this really creepy dream - this guy with glaring slanted eyes and a creepy voice that bounced around the inside of my skull was talking... Something about the dark - darken... And Jack! Jack was with him - seemed really upset about something...
Where are we? Yeah - I gathered we were still under the castle. It being dark, narrow, muddy and stinky sort've gave it away. But, where - exactly? I mean - I've got the Guide Book, here. And there's nothing about this underground passageway in it. Or that crypt we were in when everything went blank...
Orb? What Orb? Ha, ha... You and your yank humour. What say you that we find a way to the surface & get ourselves a nice cup of tea before we head back home? People - after us? There! What did I tell you - trying to pass yourself off as an OAP! It was bound to get us in trouble. Spect the Security guys are after us to get us to pay the full fee.
Oh - hang on, Mike. That's my mobile...
Hallo? Oh - Miss Snodgrass! I'm sooo sorry! You see, I've got this friend staying with me from the States... And what with all the excitement, I clean forgot about our appointment and-
Where are we now? Hm... Good question. When I know, I'll let you know, ha ha... Excuse me? 'Demand to know?' Just a minute Miss Snodgrass - you might be my therapist, but I don't see how that gives you the right to yell at me! As soon as I can, I'll get back to you and reschedule... What d'you mean, you're sitting outside my house right now - so you know I'm not there? That's outrageous-
Mike! Give me back my phone - I was just about to tell her where to go - checking up on me like that. What a nerve! Hmm? Well, it is a good phone... but you're right - there shouldn't be any kind of signal down here. And... she did sound really, really clear. So... d'you think that maybe... she isn't a therapist?
Yeah... maybe you're right. We should keep going. Before they catch up with us. And - Mike? Um... could you hold my hand. Please? Just in case the other torch goes out, as well...
www.sjhigbee.com
It is weird that our phones are still working way down here. I'm not sure how deep we are, but these tunnels go on forever.
Even with me helping, SJ and I need a break, but we can't wait long. I hear those people moving behind us. Lucky thing we still have this helpful glowing Orb or we-
Wait SJ is shhhhhing me (again).
"Alright Bone, we know you are down there! You needn't bother running anymore you fools. You already did what we needed from you. Only a Stalwart can use the Orb and open the Midas Room. Since you have already done so, resitance is now meaningless."
SJ doesn't look so good, but I'll be tripled damned if I'll ever let these Xemmoni scum get there hands on her again.
"Come on SJ, let's keep moving. As long as we are free we can fight back. Maybe we can find what they are looking for, becfore they do. Besides they are in for a surprise when Jack gets here." Boy I hope Jack gets here!
MDG
If anyone needs to reach me my email is Alexbone17@aol.com
Right. I've had enough. If I walk another bleeping step, my feet will fall off. Apart from anything else, I have the strongest impression we've just been walking around these horrible dark tunnels in large circles. Not that Mike wanted to hear THAT one. However, there wasn't much room for debate because the one thing he was right about, was that we were being followed. He seemed to know exactly who they were. Not that he wanted to share that with little old me.
And a couple of times, he had long whispered conversations with Jack on his mobile. I think that's SO rude, don't you? There you are, spending some of your precious quality time with a friend, while they're chattering away to ANOTHER special someone...
The Orb reappeared. You know - the one Mike stole- I mean - borrowed from the Tower of London. THE Orb. Symbol of ancient power and responsiblity of the Throne... And started floating around in front of us. Leastways we didn't have to hold hands anymore. Or worry about the dark. But, whenever I tried to ask him what exactly was the deal with this - he just kept shhing me. Ended up sounding like Thomas the Tank Engine...
'Shh, SJ. Don't worry. Shh! They'll hear you... Shh!' You get the idea.
So why am I talking aloud here in complete darkness - without a care in the world WHO hears me? Because whoever was behind has gone, that's why. Along with the Orb - which suddenly winked out like a thrown light switch. Don't ask me exactly when. I don't know. I can't see my watch. And why aren't I discussing any of this with Mike? Because he's gone all weird and waxy on me again.
So, I've come to a complete halt. Trying not to think about what'll happen if we don't get out of here in the next day. Trying not to think of being tired and thirsty and scared. Mike's sort of slumped in a heap and I'm sitting on his legs to keep out of the mud. Being waxy means he doesn't feel anything. Although he does go a bit greasy with my body heat.
Maybe I'll try a little song. To keep myself from screaming. Or going mad...
'You are my sunshine, my only sun-shine... You make me ha-ppy, when skies are grey...'
www.sjhigbee.com
Odd story on the BBC news this evening. Something about a pair of dirty lunatics found hiding in a wine cellar. One of them was crooning some sort of song about sunshine and grey skies.
I think I'm glad I live in the USA. AT least here we only have nut jobs that climb up school clock towers and shoot people.
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Mm... Uh... Where am I? It's light. We're not underground anymore. A soft bed - yipee! Hey - Mike! Mike?
*Deep calming breaths* Of course Mike isn't here. Someone rescued us & put me to bed. Don't know about the flannelette nightie, though. Bit depressing that someone reckoned I was a flannelette female, rather than a baby doll gall... Let's go and find Mike. Probably in a room next door, or something.
The door's locked! Hey! Open up! Mike! Are you there? MIIKE!!
Miss Snodgrass? So - you're definitely not a therapist, then. I think it's outrageous you impersonating-
Don't you tell me to be quiet. It's fraud, you know. Taking my money like that. Pretending to be all concerned... And where's Mike?
Don't you give me that 'need to know' balderdash - I need to know what you've done with my buddy. I invite him over for a holiday and-
Lover?? Typical. Minds like sewers, you lot. We're just very close friends, I'll have you know. Talking of which - exactly which 'lot' are you from - MI5? MI6? I know my rights - I demand my solicitor. Give him a ring - It's Mr Greene of Messrs Greene, Greene & Lovett, Goring-on-Sea. He was the executor to Grandma's Will when she left me the cottage 22 years ago. Of course he'll remember me - he told me so. He said, 'Ms Higbee, acting for you has been an unforgettable experience. I'll have nightmares about it till my dying day.' Go on. Ring him. You'll see.
Get dressed - in that? It's a paper suit! Hope it doesn't chafe. I get a skin condition when I'm stressed - not as bad as Mike's. But bad enough...
What d'you mean? Tell you where he is? I mean... you got Mike. Haven't you? You must have!
No... It's not an act. I was singing in the dark - that's the last I remember. Sitting on his legs to keep out of the mud. For ages and ages. Till my voice went... And then I fell asleep. And woke up in this bed.
Oh Mike... where are you? Please... I need you - I've missed you so much. And now you're gone, again.
www.sjhigbee.com
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