BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Janie
Date: 04 Mar 07 - 07:47 PM

"Ah, Dundee! I haven't danced like that since the last time I saw you!" panted Josephine, completely winded by their romp around the bar.

They had wrecked the place with their prancing. Chairs were upturned and tables knocked asunder by the vigorous swirling of the two old friends. The sound of their revelry had drawn more people into the bar, and the clothes were piling up by the door. A mandolin player, a fella with a big Taylor guitar strapped to his back, and a petite woman with a fiddle strapped to hers were straightening the tables and chairs--this time leaving room in the middle for a dance or a singaround. Two women-one very tall and one very short, started handing out drinks to all who wanted one. From their accents, it was clear they had travelled all the way from Britain to attend the Mudgather. A short guy with a gray beard and a long, lanky one with a Maine accent joined the women in passing around the libations.

Some one sat down at the piano and began pounding out a lively tune. A voice started up with the lyrics, more joined in on the chorus, and before long it was clear that the first event of the gathering was happening-a pub sing!. The voices were so full and robust that no one but the bartender heard the sound of the bike as it pulled up outside the bar.

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Lonesome EJ
Date: 04 Mar 07 - 06:23 PM

ramble on for another paragraph, he remembered the plot.

The bottle had nearly been drained, and Dundee's face had taken on the bright red of a stop light. The rest of the group of musicians were sweaty and out of breath from trying to keep up with him and play loud enough to be heard. Yet none had left the circle. In truth, they felt a bit like children who sat at a dinner table where a very intimidating Father glowered at them whenever one so much as stopped playing for even part of a song. They were also quite drunk, since Dundee ordered another round of drinks each time a song stopped and wouldn't begin the next until they had, to his expression "here's to yer old Granny's sudden death and Grampy's relentless whorin' what done her in", drained their drinks.
Suddenly, Dundee stood up, tossing the bodhran unexpectedly to York, took in a deep breath that stirred the curtains, and sang "The Lass of Glenshee." Great tears came from his eyes, he gazed at the ceiling as if the Lass her own self had been tacked up there, and truly all of the group became quite moved, because Dundee's singing, while not at all fine, was quite heartfelt.
As he finished, and before he could raise the bottle to drain the dregs, a buxom woman poked him in the ribs and leapt onto his back, saying "Dundee you rotten mick! I've been looking for you seven years to get the child support you owe on the wee bastard you left me carrying!" Briefly, the others saw what a Dundee in the grip of fear might look like, but then he grabbed the woman, swung her 'round, and gripped her like a Kodiak bear would have. Several distinct pops were heard as vertebrae in her back came under the tremendous pressure. Then he held her in front of him and shouted "a dance!" He spun to look at York. "You! Play the Irish Washerwoman!"
York trilled an intro and all dove into the song as the oak-planked floor boomed under the feet of Dundee and Josephine.

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Georgiansilver
Date: 04 Mar 07 - 05:56 PM

He was the quintessential English gentleman, who was strolling along the embankment of the Thames river in London, when he saw her. She was laid on the grass in just a skimpy skin coloured bikini which first made him believe she was really naked. It was only as he came closer that he realised there were strings to her skin. He became immediately besotted with this lithe, slender bodied, blonde haired beauty whose only blemish seemed to be a wart on the end of her nose.
Roderick approached her and gently whisperd to her, "I am Roderick and I would really appreciate a conversation with you". She sat up quickly and carefully looked him up and down, not missing any feature of his strong male body. "Are you that schwarzenegger guy" she asked him and he disappointed her by replying "Sorry no". "I guess you just look a lot like him in build and looks" she said with an air of knowledgability. He now felt proud and decided to make a move on her, as she was by far the most attractive woman he had ever seen.
However just as he was about to......................

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Janie
Date: 04 Mar 07 - 05:14 PM

Josephine moved quietly along the walls, unnoticed in the dim shadows. She had been delighted to see Malcolm come banging into room. Realizing he had not seen her before he moved to the circle of musicians, she thought she'd sneak up and give him a start before he started banging on that confounded drum. She watched the circle of men as she prepared to approach, ready to pantomine a 'shush' if one of them spotted her as she crept up behind the big man. Something about that York fella gave her pause. His eyes were as cold as his posts on Mudcat. And there was something about the way he was studying Malcolm that made her feel unexpectedly suspicious. When she had a chance, she'd mention it to Dundee. Right now, though, she was going to poke him in his nekked ribs and give him a big hug and howdy!

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: katlaughing
Date: 04 Mar 07 - 05:00 PM

Now that LindyLou's skin had shriveled tight until she looked like a tall, tanned prune, she slowly rose up out of the steamy water and shook out her long, now purple hair. She made sure to retract her small antenna up on top of her head, and also covered her third eye with her bangs/fringes. It was usually closed, anyway. She didn't need to open it to *read* anything.

All in all, her time on this planet had been interesting and fulfilling, though she could have done without the experience of "falling in love" and losing that love. She supposed it was an important part of her assimilation and would write up well in her dissertation when she finally went for her Mistress of the Universe degree from the Institute of Flying Kestrels and Whatnot of the Divine. In the meantime, she was enjoying finding out just what a Mudcat was and how to produce the kind of music they seemed to favour. This would be her first time ever meeting them in her Earthskin without the safety barrier of a communication device.

Eschewing her dusty clothing, she straddled the bike, once more, fired it up with a swift kick, felt the sensuous rumble between her legs and down shifted. Climbing back up the hill, she headed over to the long, low building where they all seemed to be gathering. Her x-ray vision showed her she would fit right in, style-wise; it seemed it was de rigeur to go skyclad today.

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: katlaughing
Date: 04 Mar 07 - 04:16 PM

(Bravo, chaps!! LOL!!)

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Lonesome EJ
Date: 04 Mar 07 - 01:32 PM

The naked red-haired man, his skin nearly fluorescing in the dark corner into which he had retired to nurse his Molson's, drew a quick breath as the bearded giant entered, There was no doubt about it...this was Malcolm Dundee. The red-haired man had studied this bluff, ruddy countenance many times in numerous suspect photos provided him by the RCMP. An under cover Mountee himself, he had even mastered the Uillean Pipes in an effort to infiltrate the Folk Circles that Dundee liked to frequent.
Undercover RCMP Detective Curtis York lowered his voice an octave as he ordered another beer, in an effort to avoid Dundee recognizing him. How Dundee would know anything about him, York was unclear on. And in fact Dundee seemed to take no notice of him but only unslung his bodhran, dropped his pants (which caused a collective gasp and flinch among all of those present), stared at the snarling dog and gave three tremendous barks which caused Bannock to seek quick shelter behind his master's right leg.
Dundee then gave a near-deafening roar of laughter and said "Irish Whiskey!" The bartender quickly poured a glass, which Dundee quaffed in a single gulp, slammed down, and said "I'll have the bottle". At which the bartender quickly handed the bottle over. Dundee gripped it, strode over to the circle of musicians, stood the bottle on the floor, sat down and said "I assume ye all know Whiskey in the feckin Jar?" Several of them nodded."Well, play the damn thing then!" he laughed.
York opened the bag that held his Uillean Pipes, glimpsed the handcuffs in a side pocket, and decided it was going to take more than that to get Malcolm Dundee to Toronto.

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Amos
Date: 04 Mar 07 - 12:35 PM

The stranger scruffed Bannock's flat black ears, and reluctantly started unbuttoning his road-stained shirt. He was about down to the fourth button when the door swung open and a large figure blocked the entire doorway. The strains of "Angelina Baker" faded on the air as the figure stepped into the room. He was big -- maybe 6'4, towering over the stranger's own six-foot frame. He was hefty -- easy 280, maybe more, the stranger thought. ANother far-flung misfit finding solace among his kind, the eccentric, the too-strange, too-gifted or too-beautiful who came to the world of folk to seek respite from the mad and ugly world.

But then, he noticed the large figure's beard -- long, untamed, black with silver streaks, waving in all directions. And his arms -- thick with muscle and as big as oak trunks. Then he noticed something else. The huge man was carrying a bodhran as big as West Australia, and he looked ready to use it.

Bannock, the friendliest dog in the world when among friends, polled back his left front lip and snarled a low, throaty growl.

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Georgiansilver
Date: 04 Mar 07 - 12:19 PM

I guess it's one of those things that happens Amos...someone borrowed mine......I don't have a problem with that.

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Amos
Date: 04 Mar 07 - 11:37 AM

(GS;

Are you projecting again? In your last remark you found other's writings irresistible and had to borrow them!

A.)

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Georgiansilver
Date: 04 Mar 07 - 09:18 AM

Is no-one going to have an attempt at writing something imaginitive on this thread...seems a shame to waste it.

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Georgiansilver
Date: 03 Mar 07 - 08:39 PM

Having just returned from the Folk concert of all Folk concerts, he decided to down a couple of glasses of whisky as a celebration of his life and his love of Folk music........

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Georgiansilver
Date: 03 Mar 07 - 05:53 AM

Awwww frogprince...thank you from the bottom of our heart....ROFLOL.

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: frogprince
Date: 02 Mar 07 - 11:01 PM

GSIJDNWMP

(Georgiansilver, I just damn near wet my pants)

That is the most pitiful, sneaky, underhanded, hilarious thing I have read in I don't know when.

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Georgiansilver
Date: 02 Mar 07 - 07:41 PM

We stepped out into the freezing night air together, never having felt so close before. I asked him if he wished to come home with me to spend the night and he replied that he would with a great air of anticipation. We walked slowly along the road, engrossed in deep conversation and often his hand would brush against my leg, sending shivers down my spine.
We arrived at the house and I poured him a large whisky, which was his favourite tipple before inviting him upstairs to the bedroom. He sat with me on the edge of the bed, nervously fingering his whisky glass so I took it from him and placed it on the pine bedside table.
I slowly undressed him in front of the mirror, gently caressing each part of his body as I did so, and then I went to bed alone again for yet another lonely night on my own.
Schizophrenia is such a strange affliction.

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Amos
Date: 02 Mar 07 - 09:42 AM

Bannock sniffed the cat, but mainly out of courtesy. The barn cat curled a lip, hissed in a sort of subdued manner, and arched its back. Bannock had seen this crap before, and knew it was a bluff. He shook his head at the cat, growled once, and let her know her head would be breakfast if she didn't stop acting like a twit. The cat, dignity intact, turned and started investigating other parts of the room with great interest, thinking about it.

The stranger stepped in and closed the door, hauling in his big Dreadnought case, and stamped the dust off his boots. Looked like there was a dress code. Hell. He hoped no-one pretty was gonna be there.

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Georgiansilver
Date: 02 Mar 07 - 02:55 AM

The fiddle competition was about to begin and there was an air of optimism and anticipation amongst the crowd of Folkies who had gathered to witness it.
The first contestant appeared in hisw slick black suit with quality collar stitching and fitting him perfectly, obviously tailor made for him. His silk tie stood out in stark contrast to the suit and his snakeskin fiddle case looked incredicle. He drew his Stradivarius from the case, put it to his shoulder, raised his bow and began to play and .....he was crap!!!!!!
The second contestant arrived in a neat sports jacket and tweed trousers, drew his old German violin from its black leather case, raised it to his shoulder and began to play and ....he was crap too!!!!!!!
The last contestant arrived in a ragged old pair of jeans, a dirty looking shirt with a red and white scarf around his neck and holes in his well worn shoes. He lifted a battered old violin which only had three strings from its even more battered old case and raised it to his shoulder and began to play and...............................................................................................................................................He was crap too!!!!!!

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Lonesome EJ
Date: 02 Mar 07 - 01:32 AM

"Whiskey Before Breakfast!" called the banjo player, and the fiddler immediately played a trill in D that led into the first line of the tune. As if they had played it 100 times before, as if they were participating in the 100,000 time that the melody had been played, the fiddler began the melody line, the guitar player banging the accent chords, the strains echoing in the room as feet tapped. Not as if it were being replayed, but as if the song was taken up at the exact point it had left off on the front porch of a soddy on the Kansas Plains 125 years previous.
Outside the room, strains of the music rolled out across crisp remnants of snow banked against the low log structure, and could be heard clearly across the lake upon whose banks the cabin had been raised. Others were summoned by the strange communion offered in the music. These came, approaching the circle of sound with reverence and respect. Instrument cases were unsnapped, the rich red-brown of objects held within, disclosed to the rays of sun that poured through a skylight to kindle the room. One by one they fell to their parts, a great momentum gathering in the sound.
The visitor, having finished a long tale peppered with jokes, paused and sipped the whiskey, felt the sunlight warm on his cheek, heard the music synchronizing the wheels of the past and the future into a melody that said all there was too say about this very moment.
He stared into the circle of smiles, moving hands, and tapping feet, among which the sound moved like spirit made manifest. At that moment, the fiddler began a complex variation of the melody, one which caused his lips to clinch, his eyes to close in concentration, completing the phrase to fall swiftly into the flow of the chorus. The clenched mouth of the fiddler relAxed into a smile, his eyes opened to behold the guest's eyes staring into his, and the fiddler gave a quick nod and wink, as if to affirm that this was a moment worth the keeping, a shared rapture.
With his right foot raised, the banjo player brought the tune to an end, a flourish of sound, and following it the sudden dignity of silence, the pause of fingers upon strings, then the sudden needy meow of a skinny old matron cat who arched her back against the fiddler's shin, filling the room with laughter.
Then, with a slow and dramatic creak, the cabin door opened and a wary dog entered, sniffing curiously at the mingled aromas of cat and folkies in the room. A man appeared behind the dog, doffing his dusty hat, saying "it's ok Barney. Just an old barn cat...and a roomful of naked folk singers..."

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: katlaughing
Date: 01 Mar 07 - 07:54 PM

Absolutely! Don't Bogart that joint, m'friend!

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Lonesome EJ
Date: 01 Mar 07 - 07:27 PM

I thought it was freaking hilarious! A very interesting little side excursion, y'might say. That's the very stuff that makes these little stories worth playing in, GS.

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Georgiansilver
Date: 01 Mar 07 - 06:19 PM

Hey if you think that's bad you should read some of my poetry.

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: katlaughing
Date: 01 Mar 07 - 04:17 PM

(WHOO!)

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Georgiansilver
Date: 01 Mar 07 - 03:13 PM

So sorry but just my vivid imagination coupled with memories. LOL

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Amos
Date: 01 Mar 07 - 02:50 PM

(GS, old chum, what the hell are you smoking over there?)


A

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Georgiansilver
Date: 01 Mar 07 - 02:09 PM

He left his local with a long face but no sooner had he passed through the door than he met his ex-wifes gynaecologist, a clever man,who always decorated his hall through the letterbox. He invited the man back to his office and as they sat in deep conversation, a tall lady passed the window. She must have been tall as the office was on the second floor. There was a tap on the door so he rose, thinking, 'what a strange place to put a tap'. He opened the door and a big blonde rolled her eyes at him, so he picked them up and rolled tham back. He kissed her but she screamed, so he removed his cigar and kissed her again. They quickly descended the stairs and went out onto the street, where a taxi pulled up with a jerk...the jerk jumped out so they got in. As they headed for the lake he told her how much he wanted her body..........but only as it was younger and fitter than his. On arrival at the lake they planned to hire a boat but as the attendant was tied up at the time....yellow rope I think....they went to a nearby hostelry. Before he entered the door he said "Look at those shores"
"What shores"? she asked..."Mine's a pint" he replied.
She said "I hope they have one of those machines in here, I love Johnny Cash" so he broke into the condom machine and got her some.
"Would you like to smoke"? she asked him and he replied that he would so she lit his jumper. He suddenly had the urge to rip all her clothes off but refrained as he had nothing else to put on.
A man sitting next to him said "Have ye got a light Mac"...he said "No but I have a heavy overcoat" I don't think the man was amused as he hit him in the face. "I would like some helicopter flavoured chips" he said to the barman but the barman explained that he only had 'plain' left.
They left the hostelry and as he stepped onto the road he slipped on some doggy do's and fell flat on his back...got up and shook himself down just in time to see a 6'6" man do exactly the same thing. "I just did that" he said and the man got up and hit him in the face saying "You dirty sod, couldn't you wait?". Again he ended up on his back but this time he looked up and saw a shooting star...'What's Clint Eastwood doing here'? he thought to himself. Anyway, Clint helped him to his feet which you could say 'made his day'. They walked quickly away until they came to a fork in the road and wondered who had left it there.
Suddenly the night closed in on them so quickly and they sat pondering where the sun had gone for many hours, until it eventually dawned on them.
They approached a house and rung the bell. The female occupant opened the door in her nightdress and he thought "What a great place to have a door". Her husband was at home with badly damaged teeth from biting his nails...he was a a carpenter........

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: katlaughing
Date: 01 Mar 07 - 02:02 PM

LindyLou shook her hair out from under the helmet, wiped her brow with her bandana and looked down into the small valley. Well, she thought, looks like I found the spot. Off to the west she saw the first place she wanted to visit before meeting any of the Folkies of whom she heard so much about.

Gearing down, she headed down to the west end where there was a big pond with a haze hanging above it. She could smell the sulphur long before she reached the pool. Kicking the stand down for her bike, she turned off the engine, then threw a leg over in a slow dismount. The long ride had left her stiff and sore. She began by pulling her t-shirt off over her head, then ripped off the binding bra she hated to wear. Next came off the long blue jeans. Left in her practical, but brief, cotton undies, she waded into the hot mineral spring. Sitting down along the edge, she let out a long, slow breath, then immersed herself in the steaming hot water. With the fresh crisp breeze above her, she took in long gulps of refreshing air, then stretched out, head back, soaking up the healing relaxation of the minerals in the natural spring. Ah, she thought. I have missed this so much. I should actually be human enough to meet a few folks after an hour or so in here. Wow...this is great!

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Amos
Date: 01 Mar 07 - 01:29 PM

The grizzled stranger romped the aged Rover over a rise, the road only a faint memory and all four wheels powered to grip the rolling grass hillside. He looked down on an unusual sight -- a grove, evidently the natural outgrowth of a spring, with a long, rustic log cabin in it. He stopped the Rover on protesting springs and resentful brakes, and clambered out to take a better look at the vale. The dog leapt happily out the door and galloped around him, making large circles of snuffy delight. The two of them studied the scene below.

Around the cabin were scattered a handful of smaller ones -- perhaps just bunkhouses for two or four. The main cabin, though, was remarkably long, as though itheld a large community kitchen, an array of meeting rooms, and what looked from the distance like a bar or perhaps a delicatessen at the far end. Another unusual thing was that, at that particular early afternoon hour, the only place that had people walking in and out of it was the bar extension on the eastend of the main structure. He could make out folks leaving the bar, and heading for the smaller cabins or one of a handful of scattered tents. He could make out other folks coming in toward the bar and ducking into it. It didn't look formal. The folks going in seemed to be wearing jeans and flannel shirts or tee shirts, nothing fancy, and workboots, running shoes or cowboy boots.

The only other odd thing is that the ones leaving seemed to be carrying all their clothes instead of wearing them.

The stranger pushed his bush hat back on his brow and reached down to pat his dog thoughtfully.

"I dunno for sure, Bannock. But I think this is the place."

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Georgiansilver
Date: 01 Mar 07 - 12:21 PM

Folkies!! The butt of all jokes eh?

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Janie
Date: 01 Mar 07 - 06:48 AM

Upon hearing that exchange, Josephine sighed with relief and stepped over the threshhold into the bar. "This has got to be the Mudcat gathering," she said by way of greeting. She looked around the room, taking in all the naked denisons. "Seeing so many people show their butts in one place cinches it!"

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Georgiansilver
Date: 01 Mar 07 - 05:36 AM

"If it was a stiff drink I wanted, I would demand an egg flip" quoth the guest with an air of juvenile defiance. "I'll have a 1940's beer barman". The barman now unsure how to handle the situation poured a normal beer (if there is such a thing) into a pint glass and handed it to the guest...."Pour me another 1940's beer while you're there" said the guest so the barman poured him a further pint of normal beer.
"That will be £5($10)" said the barman haughtily. "No it will not" said the guest, "I asked for 1940's beer and you pulled me two pints and 10p(5 cents) is all you're gonna get for the two".

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Lonesome EJ
Date: 28 Feb 07 - 04:22 PM

Behind the bar stood a large and very stout naked man of about 50 years of age. He smiled at the newcomer and called out "welcome to Paradise Valley Bar and Nature Club!" The bartender polished out a nice spot on the bar for the guest, then smiled saying "what'll it be?"
The guest was still a bit non-plussed as he caught the eye of a rather statuesque nude woman at the end of the bar who smiled and sipped a martini. Just behind her a teenager clad only in dirty tennis shoes and Red Sox ball cap was playing a Pac Man machine, and behind him sat two aging folkies; a banjo player in the buff and bareskinned mandolin player, playing the B section of Red-Haired Boy. A third folkie stood nearby rather uncertainly, violin case unsnapped and open, shirt removed and trousers just being rolled beneath the knees. This person's face flushed very red before she looked away, then the other two stopped playing, the bearded banjoist calling out "strip down and come on in! We could definitely use a guitar player!"
The guest turned, his jaw still hanging slack, to look at the bartender, who had a drink poured for him. "I just give you a whiskey," said the barman. "You look like you could use a stiff drink."

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Georgiansilver
Date: 28 Feb 07 - 02:43 PM

Having just arrived home from picturesque Dingle Bay in Ireland, where he had partaken of such scenery as he had never borne witness to before, he decided to go to the local hostely for a quiet pint or two to refresh his long term friendships with the locals.
This would be in stark contrast to the Irish pubs where men in old fashioned style clothes quaffed Guinness with an air of belonging and a boldness befitting wild teenagers and fiddle music filled the air with the occasional accompaniment of the pipes. This would be like stepping into a quiet barn after a night in the chicken coop. This would be like entering Joes cafe after a meal at a top restaurant.
He walked through the doorway of his local with an air of superiority and like he had tales to tell but shock, horror, what met his eyes filled him with disbelief and anguish.......

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Georgiansilver
Date: 28 Feb 07 - 02:46 AM

Sorry Amos but your eloquent writings just got my imagination working overtime and what was written just arrived in my head!
Will begin with another character when I return. Best wishes.

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: katlaughing
Date: 28 Feb 07 - 12:15 AM

(LOL...actually I had Wyoming, high plains with mtns. in mind, from my early Mudcatting days, but anything you folks want to make it works. There could even be a magic doors opening from one to another. We've had Shangri-la, outer space, steamboats and more...let your imaginations go wild. My character is not me, but she does know Mudcat and it will be her first time meeting any of them in 3D!:-)

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Janie
Date: 27 Feb 07 - 11:32 PM

(High Desert with a Bay....Somewhere along the west coast of South America?:^)

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Janie
Date: 27 Feb 07 - 11:28 PM

(Uh...guess I'm making assumptions that since Kat lives in Colorado or someplace like that, the description was of high desert or the foothills of the Rockies....Kat?)

Janie

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Amos
Date: 27 Feb 07 - 11:04 PM

(Are these folks heading down toward a bay or up into high desert? Or is it a high desert with a bay in it? :D)

A

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Janie
Date: 27 Feb 07 - 10:38 PM

Josephine was beginning to wonder if she were at the right location. It was 2:00 and no one else had arrived. She had gotten there early, found a little grove of tall shrubby looking plants that offered a wee bit of shade, and had pitched her tent. She realized camping out here in the high desert was going to be a bit different from camping up the rich, forested hollows in the mountains in the East, where she was from. She'd never had the opportunity to see the West before, and had flown out here early so as to have some time to tour a bit of the region. She was looking forward to meeting these people that she had only known in cyberspace, but was more than a little nervous. She often felt awkward around crowds, especially with people that she really didn't know.

Right now, the way the wind was blowing and the dust was flying, she was wondering if she had made a good choice to spend her limited funds touring. If she had waited and just flown out for the Mudgather, she could have afforded to stay in one of the cabins at the site.

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Amos
Date: 27 Feb 07 - 07:29 PM

(GS...if you can't come up with a proper character of your own, and you really must take one of mine, go ahead, I'll make another. But 't would be more sooth and suiting and all that for you to design your own. I suggest Fotheringill for him or her, as the case may be.)

A

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: katlaughing
Date: 27 Feb 07 - 06:18 PM

(oops! Forgot to name her! Let's see Pansy Rue is taken. How about, Lindy-Lou? I think I like it. Let's make her Lindy-Lou.Thanks, guys.)

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Georgiansilver
Date: 27 Feb 07 - 06:03 PM

Suddenly!!! Katlaughing realised there was something wrong. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and that butterflies feeling reared itself mercilessly in her abdomen. 'What the hell are they doing now'? she thought to herself....this is not at all what I had planned.
Just then a pick up truck stopped and a man leaned out of the drivers window, which was iced up due to the inclement weather, shouting to her as he did so "Hey Mrs, can ya tell me where I can get fuel for my truck"? His old dog was barking in unison which made his request hard to understand so she had to ask him to repeat it. He ordered the dog to be quiet and repeated the question whilst the dog delicately licked his orange, nicotine stained fingers.

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: katlaughing
Date: 27 Feb 07 - 04:23 PM

(Ewww, spooky, I like that! Just a note: usually in story threads, each person comes up with their own character/s. Once in awhile, if their character/s interact with another's, they will write for both characters, but usually just for their own. I am NOT complaining...I LOVE what you guys are doing, just making a note in what I hope is an early faze of a long and fun thread. Thanks!)

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Wesley S
Date: 27 Feb 07 - 03:45 PM

The hairs on the back of her neck suddenly began to stand on end. Now why was that she wondered ? It was as if a connection had been made. And suddenly the old juice had begun to flow again down a long forgotten line. She shivered - as if cold somehow.

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Georgiansilver
Date: 27 Feb 07 - 03:19 PM

The faithful old dog, shoved his greying muzzle across the seat and his pink steamy tongue gently teased the mans orange, nicotine stained, fingers as they rested on the gearshift. With no heating in the car, the warmth of the dogs tongue brought a refreshing newness of feeling to his whole hand. Their breath formed patterns of condensation as in itself it battled with the cold to stop its rivulets from becoming ice on the once clear windows of the car.
His lack of confidence in the accuracy of the fuel guage caused the hairs on the back of his wrinkled neck to stand on end as he knew the fuel level must be low. To run out of fuel in such a Godforsaken place would mean certain death unless, by coincidence, some other fool had sallied forth into the wilderness, against all advice.

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: katlaughing
Date: 27 Feb 07 - 01:06 PM

(beautiful, fellahs! Keep 'em going! and thanks for joining in!)

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Wesley S
Date: 27 Feb 07 - 12:40 PM

Some of her old fears rose to the surface. The ones he'd planted in her brain years ago. Would she be good enough ? Would the wood and strings dance under her bow like she knew they could? Yes - dammit - they would this time. The weeks and months of concentration, practice , the sore fingers - the ridges in her fingertips. It would pay off this time. They would be shown - and the air would sparkle with the music she knew was in her heart.

It would be right this time......

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Amos
Date: 27 Feb 07 - 12:38 PM

A stranger slowed a weather-beaten Land Rover on a country road, shaded by deciduous trees from the cold early-SPring sunlight. He squinted at a dilapidated road sign, down-shifted with a couple of startling clunks and grinds, and wheeled the old but robust partner of his best days on the road into a rutted dirt one-lane road that wound back and down toward the distant banks of the bay.

A black retriever in the seat next to him yipped cheerfully as fresh smells swept into the car -- rabbit, a whiff of yesterday's horse, squirrels, aspen...a delight to the nose. A trace of felled oak, a touch of...instrument polish? The dog made a mental note. This was a smell he understood from long experience.

He lit a thin cheroot with one large and calloused hand, nodding agreeably at the dog's remark, and with the other wrestled the Rover through dried puddle-holes, over exposed buried rock ridges, and through beds of blown sand and gravel. He was getting close...he could smell it in the air. There would be music.

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: katlaughing
Date: 27 Feb 07 - 12:22 PM

Her arms around his waist, he felt so solid, her anchor, her rock, her reason for being. They soared through life on the back of his prized vintage Indian, the roar and vibration of the engine flooding her with recent memories of his touch of their completion to ecstasy back home.

She shook her head, mentally dislodging the old and focussing on the new. She revved the engine, torquing it in an effort to blow out the carbon and the memories. It had been a long time...now he was gone, forever. She made sure her fiddle case was secure across her back and let out the clutch. Gotta get a fix, gotta get a fix...off to meet those 'cats in 3D, after all these years of cyberjamming!

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: GUEST,Mingulay at work
Date: 27 Feb 07 - 04:16 AM

The acetylene headlamp on the old tandem still burned brightly but was the chain now too old and stiff to move. With trembling fingers she reached out and grasped the now tarnished handlebars, flung her leg over the machine and settled on the old worn saddle. Memories from long ago came flooding into her mind as her foot reached for the pedal.

Subject: RE: BS: Once a Mudcat, always a ? (Story thread)
From: Georgiansilver
Date: 27 Feb 07 - 02:48 AM

Today of all days was the day when the car, with a mind of its own, failed to start. She tried and tried to get the thing to rumble into life but to no avail so she allowed it a little time to settle, as her father had taught her, in case she had flooded the carburettor.
She tried again but still it failed to come alive. What should she do now? Should she set off to walk the seven miles for her fix in this abominable weather or wait till it settled?.
Then she saw it. There it was,large as life, standing in the field and gazing at her with a frightening glare.