BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel

Subject: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 08 Aug 11 - 01:41 PM

We had last left our characters in an irredeemable mess.

Or so we thought.

Will Jake convince the authorities to lets him out with his statements about talking chimps as a matter of public record?

Will Chongo be released for one last case?

Will the Flood return to the penthouse?

And most importantly, do we really care?

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Little Hawk
Date: 08 Aug 11 - 02:12 PM

NO! (We don't) But don't let that stop anyone from posting here...

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Don Firth
Date: 08 Aug 11 - 02:51 PM

CLICKY.

Don Firth

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 08 Aug 11 - 02:57 PM

Ever read a story that you knew just had to be written by a beagle on psychotropic drugs?

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Amos
Date: 08 Aug 11 - 03:13 PM

I think this one was written by a psycho on beagletropic drugs.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 08 Aug 11 - 03:23 PM

LOL LOL LOL!!!!

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Little Hawk
Date: 08 Aug 11 - 03:25 PM

THAT's what the Dachshund needed! Too late we discover what we should have known all along.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: GUEST,999
Date: 08 Aug 11 - 03:29 PM

Horrible Dresses, The Sequin

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 08 Aug 11 - 03:31 PM

mmmmmm shiny mmmmmmmmm

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 08 Aug 11 - 03:50 PM

It was a dark and stormy day. A board of headshrinkers had convened in an board room of the Black Walnut Mental Hospital. Jake was much humbled in approaching this meeting. Or was he.....

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Amos
Date: 08 Aug 11 - 04:03 PM

HE left the meeting shaking his head sadly, and occasionally shaking his sad Hedley. His presentation on why he was sane had been sternly rejected by the board, who had answered everyone that he continued toneed help. He knew they were right; he needed help but it wasn't goping to come from the good doctors.

That night he waited, awake until just before sunrise, and in the quiet hours when others were dreaming of an unreachable state of normality, he slipped down the back stairwell to the massive laundry bins and buried himself under a week's worth of filthy, urine and feces stained sheets waiting for expeditious pick up and transport to the laundry service plant on the other side of town.

He felt the cart jolt and start to move; he held his breath and prayed silently to the great ConfettiMonster.

An hour later, he felt the cart being pushed off in a long line of identical carts and rolled into the giant recieving bay at the Glad Hand Fungu WHite Man Laundry building. Then it was still. He dared a brief peek from under his stinking disguise and saw the staff of the laundry flocking into the break room for breakfast. Seizing themoment, he wrapped himself inthe cleanest sheet he could see and rolled out onto the floor behind the cart. Three bounds and he was on the loading bay where the empty laundry truck was parked, keys still in the ignition.

In minutes he had backed the unwieldy truck into a large semicircle and was speeding down Fourteenth Avenue, a free man at last.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 08 Aug 11 - 04:11 PM

Suddenly he saw blue lights in the rear view mirror.
"I'd like to see you talk your way out of this one sunshine." Said officer Hernandez Ginsberg. "I got you for in decent exposure, theft of city property and grand theft laundry truck. I'll give you a choice. Do you want to go to jail or back to the looney bin?"

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: GUEST,999
Date: 08 Aug 11 - 04:21 PM

'Do you want to go to jail or back to the looney bin?"'

Please say looney bin. You can get some bucks there.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 08 Aug 11 - 04:24 PM

You know, If you want you can just say.

"Jake chose the looney bin. He was always fond of Canadian money."

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: GUEST,999
Date: 08 Aug 11 - 04:27 PM

"Jake chose the looney bin. He was always fond of Canadian money."

Consider it done.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 08 Aug 11 - 04:28 PM

LOL!!

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Ed T
Date: 08 Aug 11 - 04:32 PM

Fiction:

"Bobert Cracks the Women Code!!!"

The sequel:
""Bobert,lost in women's time in the mall""

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 08 Aug 11 - 04:45 PM

"We need Jake let out of here right now!" Said the representative of the Patriachal Arseholes Paternal Association, commonly known as PAPA. His unique qualifications make him the only one qualified to crack........................................................... Wait for it...........................................................................................................Here it comes,............................suspenseful music rising.................................................................................................................................................................

The women code!!!

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 08 Aug 11 - 04:48 PM

Jake Tillington & the Women Code Copyright 2011 Mudcat Coop Co-op productions all rights ignored.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Rapparee
Date: 08 Aug 11 - 05:00 PM

"Looney bin? Officer, I am an inmate of the Mudcat Cafe!" he said.

"Waddaya know? So am I!" replied Officer Ginsburg, getting in the truck. "Let's go!"

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 08 Aug 11 - 05:33 PM

The outskirts of Charlotte NC, a lovely home, in the woods near a lake. It is trash day. As the gentleman of the house leaves the recycling at the curb an shadowy figure lurks in the shadows, shadowing the man, figuring what to do next.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Ed T
Date: 08 Aug 11 - 05:59 PM

""If the BS pressure reduces in an actual mudcat emergency, oxygen masks will drop down. Immediately place the mask over your face. Be patient, there is oxygen in there. If over BS, a BS floater vest is under your seat. Before you depart, take a moment to chart your direct course to the nearest exit, walking over others if needed. If you're sitting next to a mudcatter who is acting like a small child, you may choose to exit first"".

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 08 Aug 11 - 06:03 PM

If you are sitting to a Mudcatter NOT acting like a small child you are very likely on the wrong side of the line.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: GUEST,999
Date: 08 Aug 11 - 08:08 PM

Guys, the plane is still on the ground!

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Little Hawk
Date: 08 Aug 11 - 11:28 PM

Dawn crept silently over the hills like an abandoned Lamborgini with no fuel in its tank freewheeling gently down a descending incline....

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Rapparee
Date: 09 Aug 11 - 12:31 AM

Then, the sudden turn to avoid the canyon appeared and the car plunged over the edge. As it bounced from rock to boulder to tree, the occupant awakened from his drug-induced stupor and muttered, "Shit, but this is gonna hurt."

And he was completely correct in that.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 09 Aug 11 - 08:45 AM

"I hurt myself today, to see if I still feel." The occupant said.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Rapparee
Date: 09 Aug 11 - 10:32 AM

"And oh boy, do I. Ouchy ouchy ouchy ouchy...." The the darkness came, and the light, and there was no more.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 09 Aug 11 - 11:25 AM

The shadowy figure figure outside Bobert's house was none other than Anne Coulter. Many many times she had exposed the real and imagined foibles of "liberals" but being a member of WIGS (Women In Good Standing) she had sworn an oath to protect the ultimate secret of human females, The Women Code. Had this unassuming man of music, recently moved to Gods own State (albeit the least Godly part in the Middle between the majestic mountains and the glorious coast) actually solved the mystery of the ages? If he had, he would have to die!

Coulter fingered her BEAN (Bearing Energy Activated Noose) and waited for him to go inside then dove into the recycling like a hungry raccoon onto a thick verdant bush covered with full plump muscadine grapes.

She found a clue. A picture of a fish jumping out of a banjo.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 09 Aug 11 - 11:31 AM

Inside Bobert saw the P-Vine was watching TV. She saw this clip and her eyes light up as if in an epiphany. "It's going to be a long year." thought Bobert.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Amos
Date: 09 Aug 11 - 11:44 AM

(Jack, I wish to hell you would stop foiling my plot lines!! Let the poor bastard out fer crissakes!! :>D)

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 09 Aug 11 - 11:55 AM

(I was having too much fun, sorry.... From the point of view of the arc of the character, if he simply escapes, he has merely proved himself resourceful. If he is released with a clean bill of mental health dependent on him accomplishing a greater goal, such as solving THE WOMEN CODE, the audience, the male half at least, is much more likely to root for him. Personally, I am looking forward to him defeating Anne Coulter, defender of the dark side, in some clever way which is probably beyond the ability of my imagination to conceive.)

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: GUEST
Date: 09 Aug 11 - 12:45 PM

"(Jack, I wish to hell you would stop foiling my plot lines!! Let the poor bastard out fer crissakes!! :>D)"

Like, uh, all of a sudden we have a freakin' plot line?

Plot
Setting
Character
Theme

and a partrige/parrtridge/partriddge chicken in a pear tree.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 09 Aug 11 - 12:56 PM

(There is no reason not to have a plot line. Just establish a goal and have character move toward it, putting obstacles, characters, or situations in the way for the character to overcome on the way to that goal. The characters and setting are morphed and adjusted by each writer's post. Theme is more tricky if not impossible. But maybe the exercise will uncover one. BTW Amos, I was not as calculating as I may seem from my previous post. My thought process was, "now that he is out, what is the most fun thing to do with him. Twice that answer was , put him back in. Also I could not resist the pun with the football player's name. )

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: MMario
Date: 09 Aug 11 - 02:08 PM

c'mon guys - you haven't managed to drop down to the level of the book of m*rmon yet;

plumb the depths of horrible fiction!

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Ed T
Date: 09 Aug 11 - 02:53 PM

He must go on! Forward, even though every muscle ached with each new stroke. He must reach the other side, where it is safe and the water is calm. As the water becomes shallower, the swell becomes higher and steeper. As they intensify, the foamy waves splash across his face. Taking a deep breath, some water enters his lungs, forcing a gaging cough.

He heard a faint voice yelling his name. "Bobert".

Though it was faint, he recognized it as the P-Vine.

"Rescue", he yelled out with joy.

"Dinner is ready,Bobert, come down stairs. Havent' you spent enough time in the bath", she quipped. You will look even more like a prune"

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 09 Aug 11 - 03:37 PM

As the shadowy figure lurked in the linen closet.....

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 09 Aug 11 - 03:44 PM

Mitt contemplated religion. He was sure that he was born into the best ones. While Cruise and Travolta were busy expunging Aliens from their bodies and grieving about mistreatment in the womb, he was thinking about the millions of loyal Mormon women he would have as slaves when he ruled his own planet. Phah! 72 virgins! He exclaimed! I will get a whole virgin planet to exploit.

As Richard Gere plumbed the depths of his own belly button, Mel Gibson complained that the pope was Catholic enough and Michelle Bachman complained that Sarah Palin was too soft on liberals, Woody Allen was minding his own business, playing the clarinet.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 09 Aug 11 - 03:45 PM

pope wasN'T Catholic enough

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Rapparee
Date: 09 Aug 11 - 03:59 PM

Spinning down, her shroud lines spinning her beneath the canopy like a top spun by a child's whip or a hydroelectric turbine by the current from a penstock, she realized that she should have really packed her own parachute. HALO jumps into enemy territory were bad enough without decorating the countryside below by projectile vomiting.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 09 Aug 11 - 04:03 PM

The Womens Code. The ultimate weapon in the battle between the sexes. As an object of a noble quest it makes the Holy Grail look like a Tim Horton's coffee mug. And oh no! not the nice porcelain ones you steal from the store. No no no like one of the crappy plastic ones they sell you! This mug. Will Jake find it? Or will the secret code of the fairer sex remain secret forever?

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 09 Aug 11 - 04:05 PM

...decorating the countryside below by projectile vomiting.

She also realized she shouldn't have had all that Jello before she jumped.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Little Hawk
Date: 09 Aug 11 - 04:31 PM

I don't see anything secret about the women's code. Matter of fact, I think they've got things better figured out than men do most of the time...although one does meet the occasional exception to that...as to any rule or generality. I would be in favor of a world run by women, given the choice. I think it would work out far better than the present social order does.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Amos
Date: 09 Aug 11 - 04:39 PM

Anne Coulter leaned over the laptop in her darkened multi-million dollar home in the high hills looking out over Boulder, Colorado. A greenish glow from the screen cast satanic shadows under her over-sharpened cheekbones, made more ominous still by an unconscious leer contorting her mouth, an evil glow of destructive lust in her pale eyes, and the tip of her pale white-coated tongue flicking over her lower lip from time to time. She laughed. "Stupid liberal!! He's never going to get out of that damned funny farm!! Ha!! HA!!"

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 09 Aug 11 - 04:43 PM

(You are in the wrong thread. Serious discussion is next door. This is a STORY. Have you not heard of "suspension of disbelief? In real life nothing is better than a Tim Horton's mug. ;-))

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 09 Aug 11 - 04:44 PM

amos lol!!

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Ed T
Date: 09 Aug 11 - 05:51 PM

""If you are going to fall for a girl outside your looks range you better have something they want more than looks.""
Quote, possibly Roger and Jessica Rabbit?

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Little Hawk
Date: 09 Aug 11 - 06:00 PM

How about....money! And lots of it. Or you could have what Chongo has: style, fearlessness, chivalry, and nerve.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 09 Aug 11 - 06:21 PM

And small forehead disgustingly hairy body and small brain

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Little Hawk
Date: 09 Aug 11 - 11:22 PM

Chimps do not find a hairy body disgusting. Sean Connery, for example, is thought by most chimps to be considerably more attractive than the average male human.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Amos
Date: 10 Aug 11 - 09:48 AM

This time, it wasn't going to be easy. A strait jacket of sturdy canvas bound his arms, and a long chain locked to his right ankle kep him within a certain radius of the bed. He could walk into the loo, over to the window, and back to the bed, no further. He knew he was in trouble. A three-hundred-pound nurse with the psychology of a Mongol cavalry officer sat at his door, and knit a purple Afghan all day, listening to Rush Limbaugh on a small distorted Japanese transistor radio. He was in hell, and there was no way out. Jake sighed.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 10 Aug 11 - 10:57 AM

"Turlington, Visitors!" said Ghengus Carney. The three hundred pound nurse, undid the the ankle lock, straight jacket and the 'Hannibal Lecher face mask, She removed the kevlar mittens from his hands an removed the duct tape from his prehensile toes which he had once used to pick a lock. She also removed the dark wrap around glasses that were theoretically to keep him from using eye blinks to communicate in Morse code with some outside agency. She then took off the Senhouser DB92 noice canceling headphones which hand been used to pipe the soothing, healing tones of that marvelous artist, Kenny C# into his head.

"We have to get you cleaned up little buddy. The gentlemen form PAPA are here. Maybe they will take you out of our hair and I can go back to using those head phones to listen. to Rush."

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 10 Aug 11 - 11:00 AM

"Just when all is darkest, hope!" Thought Jake as they led him into the visitor's lounge. In times of trouble, Jake tended to think like a Victorian era narrator.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Little Hawk
Date: 10 Aug 11 - 11:41 AM

That's a fine way to think. It helps maintain a stiff upper lip and a cheerful outlook even in the face of unmitigated disaster. It makes unmitigated disaster look like mitigated disaster.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Amos
Date: 10 Aug 11 - 12:03 PM

The video relay from the wireless cameras far away flickered as a burst of random interference from a distant star cut through the atmosphere above the Colorado mountains, and resolved again to show the odd scene in the far-away looneybin in Connecticut. She noticed the manly cut of his jaw as the mask came off, the still-perfect shape of his chest and shoulders revealed when the nurse took off the strait jacket. "Curse him!!", she thought. "Those left-wing bozo pussies are going to ruin everything!!" She thought a series of inchoate, rabid, hate-filled thoughts, and picked up the smart phone lying on her computer table, and using her extraordinarily long and bony thumbs, began a scorching text message.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 10 Aug 11 - 12:12 PM

To Other Anne Coulter outside Bobert's house.
They are getting close! Kill Bobert now!

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Little Hawk
Date: 10 Aug 11 - 06:48 PM

But...if one political enemy is killed, another one must be found! That is a basic principle behind maintaining military production. So...if Bobert is eliminated, then what? Another "Bobert" will have to be found in short order. Just like this thread has found Anne Coulter #1 and Anne Coulter #2.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 10 Aug 11 - 06:54 PM

Will you people please pay attention? Bobert is a target because he is believed to have cracked The womens code. and at least one coulter has been assigned to protect the secret.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Amos
Date: 10 Aug 11 - 07:38 PM

Wait...how many of these bony ugly psycho harridans ARE there floating around on this godforsaken planet? I KNEW I should have taken that left turn at Deneb 3!!!

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Amos
Date: 10 Aug 11 - 08:39 PM

The Implementer was finishing a tall glass of watery beer when the text message arrived. He wiped his wide, dark-lipped mouth with the back of a dirty peacoat sleeve and threw a couple of bucks on the table for Janice, who knew what he looked like.

Stepping through the cheap double doors into the dank cold evening air, he buttoned up the shabby peacoat and pulled a shaby woolen watchcap over his thinning hair. "If 't were done then 't is best 't were done quickly..." he muttered to himself, and took out his pocket smartphone to check the address of the Silveminded Friendly Sleep Mental Institution. ABout twenty miles. He might even be back in time for Judge Judy if he timed things right. He checked his inside pocket for the comforting solidity of the silenced .44 and stepped up to a worn-down Honda Hawkwing 650 parked in the alley. It started on the fourth kick, and he sat astride it for a while, catching his breath, and then purred off into the darkling evening.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Amos
Date: 11 Aug 11 - 10:55 AM

The gates of the Silveminded Friendly Sleep Mental Institution were tall, rusty, and sturdy. The Implementer rolled his motorcycle into a thich stand of ivy and kudzu by the road's edge and studied things out. Climbing would be risky, and blowing it ioen required plastique. He had no vaulting pole or helicopter within reach. He leaned against the ancient towering gates in thought, working the puzzle out, and it swung inward, noiseless on well-oiled bearings, dumping him unceremoniously on the asphalt driveway winding up the long hill to the loony bin.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 11 Aug 11 - 12:51 PM

All of a sudden, the gate swung open. It was Jake, flanked by two known PAPA operatives.

"What kind of a game is Coutler #1 playin?" Thought The Implementer. "She told me that this guy was a liberal pinko, but here he is with the Grand Dragon of Misogynists Unanimous, William Shatner #21 and his oriental sidekick Beer Me. I never would have expected to hear Anne Coulter say something that was untrue."

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 11 Aug 11 - 12:55 PM

2 years later, Its the London Olympics, Anne Coulter 43 is captain of the women's beach volleyball team. George W. Bush pats her on her flat little fanny. No reason. He just likes doing that evry four years.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Amos
Date: 11 Aug 11 - 02:14 PM

Ach, Jack, you make it MUCH harder than need be!!!

WHat is PAPA? THese sudden jerks are disruptive to the tranquil imaginings of the poor reader.


A

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 11 Aug 11 - 02:18 PM

I give up.....

WHat is PAPA?

From: Jack the Sailor - PM
Date: 08 Aug 11 - 04:45 PM

"We need Jake let out of here right now!" Said the representative of the Patriachal Arseholes Paternal Association, commonly known as PAPA. His unique qualifications make him the only one qualified to crack........................................................... Wait for it...........................................................................................................Here it comes,............................suspenseful music rising....

The women code!!!

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 11 Aug 11 - 02:27 PM

From: Jack the Sailor - PM
Date: 08 Aug 11 - 03:50 PM

It was a dark and stormy day. A board of headshrinkers had convened in an board room of the Black Walnut Mental Hospital. Jake was much humbled in approaching this meeting. Or was he..

From: Amos - PM
Date: 11 Aug 11 - 10:55 AM

The gates of the Silveminded Friendly Sleep Mental Institution

---------------

From: Jack the Sailor - PM
Date: 09 Aug 11 - 11:25 AM

The shadowy figure figure outside Bobert's house was none other than Anne Coulter.

From: Amos - PM
Date: 09 Aug 11 - 04:39 PM

Anne Coulter leaned over the laptop in her darkened multi-million dollar home in the high hills looking out over Boulder, Colorado.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Amos
Date: 11 Aug 11 - 03:54 PM

Ah, SO. Clearly you have invested more time in tracing this overheated fugue than I have.

I transferred him to Silvermind because I used to ride by a similar place on my bike as a kid. :D


A

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: GUEST,999
Date: 11 Aug 11 - 06:26 PM

And now dear reader it is time for a commercial break.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: GUEST,999
Date: 11 Aug 11 - 06:26 PM

Breaks over.

We return to our story.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Amos
Date: 11 Aug 11 - 06:41 PM

Chuwannah Dewe stepped gracefully and mysteriously out from behind the large and wrinkled suits who were known PAPAs. The aim of their icey blue Berettas never wavered from the Implementer's ribcage as she shashayed up to him, absentmindedly stroking Jake's firm posterior in passing (which at the moment it was not).

"Ah so!! The Coulter-beast hopes to terminate our friend while he is under the protection of Silvermined?" the svelte and curvaceous bimbo purred. "I am so sorry to interrupt your leedle mission. But we have other plans in mind for this man. You can tell your neurotic boney boss that she can look forward to her own doom. For you see--we intend to break the Women's Code. And when we have done that, you faux-feminine fuehrer will be the first to be broken in her turn."

The Implementer smiled, but his guts were making a rapid transformation to ice water. He knew this woman by reputation. What Chuwannah Dewe said she wanted to do, she did. And what she did she never did half way. You did not mess with what Chuwanna Dewe wanted.
He bowed his head in an acquiescent sign, and one of the PAPA men stepped forward in his large and wrinkled suit and relieved him of his silenced weapon. Then the man raised the gun and brought the butt down hard on the back of the Implementer's neck, and he crumpled into a dark night of his own.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Rapparee
Date: 11 Aug 11 - 06:41 PM

In a dingy downtown Dayton former department store, Sister Susie (of the Sisters of the Divine Figure) was sewing silly sloppy silk shirts for soldiers, just as her order had always done. Suddenly, the Red Line telephone rang.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Sister, ich bein der Pope. You must go immediately to Sylvester, Montana und dere you vill get furder instructions. Ja, dis ist vetwork. Ein "Implementer" has been found und needs to become ein "Eliminated" mach schnell."

"Jawohl! I mean, I'm on my way," she responded, grabbed her always-ready "tool kit" and left without turning off her sewing machine.

As she ran down the stairs she ripped off her wimple and shook out thick locks of auburn hair. Pausing, she stepped out of her dress and continued on in a very, very chic simple black business suit.

And why not? She was all business, now: trained as an assassin by the crack Swiss Guards.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Don Firth
Date: 11 Aug 11 - 07:04 PM

". . . he crumpled into a dark night of his own."

Good line!!

Don Firth

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 11 Aug 11 - 07:09 PM

"Sister, ich bein der Pope."

LOL

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Amos
Date: 11 Aug 11 - 08:01 PM

There are not many who qualify for the Coulter Implementer network. Not more than three, actually, have ever been known who possessed the rare qualities of stamina, resourcefulness, tactical brilliance and political idiocy to even want to join this elite corps. Coulter knew one was out for the count in the scrub brush alongside the manicured lawns of Silvermind. And she knew from the sounds relayed from his lapel camera that he had not gone down lightly. She had no choice. Jake was on the move, and she knew the Code was at risk. It was time to call in reserves. She dashed off another heated, neurotic text message using her bony thumbs, and dispatched it with a click to a remote area code in Montana. SHe paused briefly, staring satanically into the pale light from her laptop. If they ever break that code, I'm done for! DONE FOR!!! Her tortured thoughts screamed inside her bony, scrawny skull, and the green evil within her glittered and splashed out into the world through narrowed eyes. She would not allow it!!

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Rapparee
Date: 11 Aug 11 - 10:43 PM

Sister Susie, now working under her nom de guerre of "Mrs. Peel," boosted the speed of the night-black F-35 fighter. She had to get to Montana -- the key to the code, the code thought to be unbreakable -- rested in her bag. She had to get it to Jake. It was tough, but Opus Dei had come through again: A=3, B=4, and so on until Y=1 and Z=2. No one would stand in her way, no one. There was Evil here, and she had taken vows of poverty, obedience, and Death To Evil. The first two were relative, the last absolute. That was why she was equipped with the finest assassination tools the world had ever known and those, coupled to her own keen, trained, focused, and enlightened mind, made "Mrs. Peel" so deadly that she had been given, by the Pope himself, total exemption from all of the Ten Commandments.

The lights of the Sylvester Aerodrome winked at her from the cavern's mouth. She went in on the beam and the plane braked to a stop. The Lamberghini, as dark blue as the midnight sky, was waiting; she threw her tool kit into the passenger's seat, climbed in, and roared off in a silent burst of speed.

At 280 kph she called in.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 12 Aug 11 - 02:16 PM

Coulter Clone #2 was beginning to suspect that Bobert did not know the Women Code, after 5 minutes of watching him interact with his wife. She was convinced.

"This one is a dead end." She tweeted on her blackberry. "He hasn't even figured out how to keep from pissing off the missus."

She bunny-hopped in to her way too large, way too shiny, way too black and chromy SUV and drove off into the dark night.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Amos
Date: 12 Aug 11 - 03:40 PM

Bobert watched the fading tail-lights. He hoped he had succeeded in throwing that stupid Coulter lookalike off the trail. Thank god Peavine was willing to play along. Ever since he had cracked the Code, she'd been willing to help him out any way he needed, but it was hard to reconstruct what their fights used to sound like when setting up the show for the spy-clone's benefit. Looks like they done it though. He grinned in the shadows as the SUV disappeared on its way back to Colorado.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: GUEST,999
Date: 12 Aug 11 - 03:49 PM

We take this momentary opportunity due to deathless prose that will expire on its due date to remind our faithful reader that this shit is really difficult. Thank you.

Back to youse!

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Rapparee
Date: 12 Aug 11 - 04:04 PM

The motel was pure sleaze and was, in fact, named "Sleazy Motel." She cruised past it twice and then, on a dark street, punched the button that changed the car's appearance from a Lamborghini to a 1992 Buick Century with just the correct touches of rust, including USMC and NRA stickers fading the back window. She quickly modified her own appearance to something more like that of the car, and then pulled a cover over her toolkit to cover the Gnucci custom work that it was. Pile her hair on top of her head and she looked like the sort who would stay at the Sleazy Motel.

She knew that this was where her prey would eventually come, like zebras come to a waterhole where the crocodiles wait for that moment when the zebras' attention is distracted long enough for the kill machine to move in an do its job. And she was the killing machine, the crocodile.

"Bobert must be saved," she muttered to herself, "but this place literally stinks."

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 12 Aug 11 - 04:55 PM

[modified her own appearance to something more like that of the car]

"Nice headlights!" said the desk clerk. "Let me put you up on the ramp so that I can get my grease gun on those nipples!"

"I would like a room for the night." She sighed.

"We only rent by the hour."

"How much for 8 hours?"

"$24.00."

"I'll need to take a shower."

"Towels and sheets are $10.00 extra." Then he turned and opened the night window and yelled. "Igor, fire up the boiler! this one has a clean fetish!"

She handed him 30 dollar bill and said, "Keep the change."

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Amos
Date: 12 Aug 11 - 07:45 PM

Igor put down the F-head pipe wrench used to force the rusty valve that fed fuel oil into the motel boiler. Clean fetish? Here? At this hour of the night? He was suspicious. It was trained into him, years before, when he was a young recruit for the NKVD, long, long ago. He raised his graying, bushy eyebrows. Maybe this was the one he'd been told to look out for. He peeked through the aged crack in the cheap siding between the boiler shed and the reception area and observed the dishwater blonder in the sleazy outfit. Something didn't add up.

He slipped to the back of the filth-encrusted boiler room and brushed the grime and dust off an antique Bakelite rotary telephone. He dialed a number, patiently waiting for the crusted rotor to return slowly to its home setting after each number was dialed, and listening to the far-off ring somewhere in Colorado. He whispered a few words into the handset, and hung up, and returned to his sagging overstuffed EZ-Boy, vintage 1961, next to the boiler.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Rapparee
Date: 12 Aug 11 - 09:50 PM

Inside the room -- it definitely wasn't her room -- she pondered on the appearance of the blonde who had suddenly come in from the night.

She sighed, undressed, and washed the road grime off her lithe body. She hoped that she'd taken off more dirt than the shower put on, at least a little more.

There was a knock on the door. She emptied a magazine from the suppressed MPSD through the hole that someone at some time in the past had kicked in the door. Tossing the now-empty weapon on the bed, she took up her suppressed 10 millimeter and carefully opened the door. There lay Igor, dressed as a pizza deliveryman, the "frisbee grenade" still harmless in the pizza box. She took the grenade and tossed the body over the railing and into the dumpster.

Why, she wondered, weren't they looking for that blonde?

She turned, reloaded, dressed, packed, and left the motel in the car.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 12 Aug 11 - 10:47 PM

Igor felt a little guilt about setting up the Pizza boy. But there was work to do. His 1978 F150 changed into a 2008 F150 with JADO rocket assist and he followed the woman into the night. And the Blond followed him.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Amos
Date: 13 Aug 11 - 02:23 PM

HE had been rushed into a darkened Jaguar saloon and blindfolded, and trying to tell where they were going as the overpowered vehicle tore through the twists and turns of the small blacktop roads of rural COnnecticut was useless. He heard young voices making drunken jokes in one house they passed, so he figured they had crossed the state line into New York but he had no other clues until the car came to a screeching halt.

CHuwanna Dewe hauled him out of the leather seat and ontohis feet--also leather covered. She pulled off the blindfold. He guessed from the stars it was about three in the morning.

"Into the jet." she hissed. He saw through the gloom the shadowy outline a small powerful business jet, and was hastily guided up the steps into the cabin.

"WHen you get to Montana," she whispered in his ear, "you will know what to do. The Code must be broken!!".

She slipped out the door into the NEw York night, and the cabin door slammed. Turbines whined, and in moments he was pressed back into his seat by the thrust of an accelerating set of twin jet engines, lifting off for a long run to the West.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Rapparee
Date: 13 Aug 11 - 05:17 PM

From somewhere amidst the dark of the Kansas prairies, a shoulder-fired ground-to-air missile locked onto the jet like an Irish Setter on a pheasant. Smiling maniacally, the kid in the punk hairdo squeezed the trigger and sent the missile on its mission of destruction.

"That's that," he whispered into his microphone. "I saw the explosion. No chutes, all dead."

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 13 Aug 11 - 07:36 PM

Which was a really stupid thing to say considering he had shot down a pelican.

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Amos
Date: 13 Aug 11 - 11:01 PM

The pilot grinned as his fingers danced on the yoke. He had danced around the missile with deft bursts of his turbines and dropped a headload of shredded aluminum dead in front of it, making the little jet stand up on its tail end and bookie like a drunken hummingbird. Now he settled back on to a normal flight pattern. The missile, confident that the target was on its nose, had obligingly discharged 500 feet below the jet and disintegrated into smithereens. The pilot nodded to the shapely young woman strapped into the seat next to his. "That's that," he smiled. "Recharge the decoy packets and tell the passenger he can climb down off the ceiling."

Subject: RE: BS: BS: Horrible Fiction, The Sequel
From: Jack the Sailor
Date: 14 Aug 11 - 01:45 AM

The Passenger, tried to climb for the ceiling three times. It was simply too difficult. As soon as he sat and looked for his seatbelt he ended up back where he started.

"Lil Help?" said the passenger.

"My bad!" Chuckled the Pilot, "I was flying up side down to disguise the heat signature."