blather_story oren The sun was low in the western sky. Leaves rustled as Jim walked through the city park, watching families loading up their cars, bringing an end to a day of recreation. He stopped, pulled his lighter out, and lit a cigarette. The nicotene felt great as it filled his lungs. This moment of calm was not to last though, as his senses suddenly piqued. What was that noise? It was faint at first, but it increased in volume until he could wrap his thoughts around it, separating it from everything else. Instinctively, Jim dove for the ground... (your turn) 051108 ... andru235 ...but, unfortunately, he missed, and crashed into a wall. From the standpoint of an onlooker, this perhaps looked quite ridiculous. To Jim, however, it was no laughing matter. His elbow was now hurty and he chipped a nail. The distant clamor continued to build, and Jim, becoming increasingly skittish, decided to enact... 051108 ... oren ...a new law. But, that would require becoming a legislator, and he didn't have time for that now, as the din from impending doom was building steadily. The law he was contemplating, however, was one to allow people to dive into walls without fear of being hauled off to the looney bin. Jim, reset his dislocated arm, then began searching for his cigarette... 051109 ... (_) but it turned out some well-meaning trash-patroller had thrown it out. "damn it," joe said, and continued on his way to work. joe was a life insurance salesman by trade. it paid decently, but he felt bad that he was selling people something that they were never going to see the benefits of. although that was hardly on his mind today, what with his shoulder and . . . 051109 ... Death of a Rose suddenly Joe's mind formed that little click, that happens every so often to bright, but gravity challenged young insurance salesmen everywhere. He was able to deduce that the impending doom sound was coming from overhead. He carefully tilted his head upwards and stared at what seemed to be a piano falling towards him. This called for immediate.... 051109 ... oren ...the fact that he was having trouble remembering his name, which was Jim, not Joe, and that, as an insurance salesman, he kept normal daytime work hours and should really be heading somewhere other than work right_now since the sun was low in the western sky, but the sound once_again pulled him from his reverie, and he dove, yet again, for the ground... 051109 ... oren hmm ... doar, we posted simultaneously! 051109 ... Death of a Rose and blatantly managed to miss the ground once more. As he scraped himself off of the wall, he heard and felt the piano smash into a thousand pieces behind him. He thanked the gods above that he didn't chip another nail this time. Jim began to think that maybe "Joe" was his alter ego. Maybe he wasn't really an up and coming insurance salesman. Maybe he was a super hero. "Joe the Gravity Man". He thought wow, that might be exciting, except for hitting all these damn walls. 051109 ... oren (nice save) Jim pulled another cigarette out and lit it, pulling the toxins deep into his hungry lungs. Maybe super heroes shouldn't smoke, but Jim couldn't care less. He walked over to the remains of the piano, and noticed a pair of feet sticking out from beneath... 051109 ... Death of a Rose He was mildly surprised not to see big, ugly red boots on those feet. But he did recognize the wooden clogs. "Oh my God! Dial 911. Hurray!" He recognized the varicose veins of the old ducth woman. She was always wondering around the neighborhood aimlessly and yet no one knew her name. He quickly started to clear away the debris hoping against hope that she might still be alive. 051109 ... oren Jim realized at that moment that he had yelled "hurray" instead of "hurry," and hoped that no one noticed. He bent down and began clearing away the splintered bits of piano, hoping that it wasn't too late. That's when "she" walked up. Jim didn't notice at first, but then he smelled something very feminine... 051109 ... oops (sorry 'bout the repeat of the clearing the debris) 051109 ... Death of a Rose yeah well, I can't seem to spell "Dutch" or "wandering", so no worries. . 051110 ... Death of a Rose (Another Aside: Oh God, I just realized what I did. I yelled "Hurray!", instead of "Hurry!". I'm not really a heartless bastard, reallay. Although it was damn funny.) Please resume your current blather_story. 051110 ... oren (It certainly was funny!) I posted last, so someone else needs to pick up the story here... 051110 ... Death of a Rose (hopefully there will not be any more breaks for station identification so let the story continue) Jim caught that familiar scent of "Her" perfume, that expensive cologne that smelled like dead skunks. He knew it's name but was having trouble remembering it since his gag relfexes were going into high gear. How could Jim's day/night get any worse? Did she have to pick this moment to bump into him? Jim also wondered why he was asking so many questions and not doing anything about the nameless & crushed old Dutch lady? Should he have worn black today? But it was too late, before he spewed forth the contents of his hastily eaten seaweed wrapped mozza balls, he found the old womans wrist and quickly ascertained that the piano had played her final song. He then proceeded to empty his stomach to the side. Hopefully when the paramedics arrived they would maybe understand that he had tried to help but had been overwhelmed by the severity of the situation. Instead of being gagged by the incredibly bad perfume of his ex-lover. He turned towards her and..... 051110 ... oren ...and promptly tossed the remainder of his cookies, so to speak. "She" saw it coming and stepped aside, not wanting to get any of it on her high_gloss black_boots. "What's the matter, Jim? Did you really think you could get rid of me for good?" Jim wiped his chin and began breathing through his mouth, just like old_times. "It certainly would have been, Kim." "What do you mean?" Jim just chuckled, knowing the joke was lost on her. "Here." She tossed an envelope at him, then turned and walked seductively away. Her stench began to dissipate. He wondered how he'd ever fallen for her. Then he remembered his skunk_fetish, and mentally slapped himself for ever letting it get out_of_hand. In_the_beginning, it had all been so innocent. He picked up the envelope. Three_words were written on_the_outside... 051110 ... Death of a Rose It said, "Open the envelope" and it was done in glaringly bright red felt marker. He couldn't help but feel a little apprehension in obeying the instruction. "Maybe I'll wait until I get home after dealing with the paramedics." "Yeah. That's what I'll do. I'll put off opening this envelope until later." "Meanwhile I think I'll talk to myself." "But wouldn't that mean that I'm crazy?", Jim asked himself. "I'm not sure. This wouldn't be Joe talking to me would it?", Jim asked rhetorically. "No, its Suzanne.", Suzanne replied. Jim realized that he had been talking out loud to himself and had inadvertantly attracted the attention of a waitress who had come out of the restaurant across the road to see what had happened. Tucking the envelope into his personal organizer, he stammered "Um_hi, my names Joe...erm...Jim...it's Jim. Definitely Jim. Not Joe. Just Jim. Yeah." Jim realized he was stammering again. Those damn speech therapy classes had done nothing for his apparent lack of interpersonal skills. Suzanne asked, "Geez mister, you seem to have lost alot of your supper here." Suzanne quickly detached her serving apron and handed it over to Jim, motioning for him to maybe get himself a little cleaner. Jim thought..... 051110 ... oren ...Nice tits. And, she doesn't smell like a skunk. He wiped himself with her apron, which smelled like grease, but oh, what a glorious scent it was. "What's your name, kid?" he asked. 051110 ... oren "Suzanne," she repeated. "Oh. You already told me that, didn't you?" "Yeah, it's okay though. You've obviously been through a traumatic experience, what with the piano and all. Hey, do I smell a skunk?" 051110 ... andru235 A passing cologne vendor smiled to himself, pleased to hear the huddled masses discussing Gucci's 'Gag Reflections', which he had applied to himself liberally. Hurray, thought the vendor. Glancing at the carnage, he saw Jim talking to the big-titticized woman. Hurry, thought the vendor, trotting away [the vendor was a horse, FYI], before that man has a titterific experience. Pausing for a moment to forget the task at hand, Suzanne turned to Jim and... 051111 ... andru235 ...said, "Were you psychicly paying attention to that equine cologne vendor? His thoughts made, like, totally no sense." "That's the most profound thing anyone has ever said to me," said Jim, gazing into Suzanne's eyes. "Uh..." began Suzanne... 051111 ... Death of a Rose What the hell is this guy thinking? But he is sort of cute, in a mentally challenged sort of way. "Would you like a cup of coffee?", she asked him, with no overt tones of instant sexual gratification, for she had noticed that he had taken a good long look at her sweater puppies. She really didn't mind except when men (and some women) always seemed to talk to the twins instead of her face. Jim coughed, dislodging some more flecks of half digested seaweed. "I sure could use some coffee while we wait for the paramedics. I'll take you up on your offer. Thanks." Besides her magnificent endowments, she did kind of have a kind looking face. Maybe this would be a lucky day after all for him, he thought. The slightly audible sound of sirens began to reach his ears. "Well Suzanne, after you. It sounds like it won't be a long wait." Suzanne began to turn back to the diner when...... 051111 ... oren ... she realized Jim hadn't returned her apron. She turned back to inquire about it, only to find that Jim had... 051111 ... oren ... tripped over the poor old woman's feet. "You okay?" She asked while rushing to him. Jim was getting up when he noticed something amidst the debris. Suzanne saw it too. "Is that yours?" she asked. "Um. Yes. Yes, it's mine," he said while pocketing the item. How did THAT get here? he thought. "C'mon. Let's go get that cup of joe," he said, taking her by the arm. As they crossed the street, a man went running past. "My piano! NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!" They entered the coffee shop and Suzanne left him at a booth while she got the coffees. Suddenly, the sky lit up outside and a loud electrical buzzing began to build. Jim could feel the electricity surging through his blood. There was an enormous explosion, rocking the cafe. Screams and the sound of glass breaking replaced the buzzing noise, then everything was still. Silence. Everyone in the cafe slowly got up from their impromptu hiding places, and began assessing their surroundings. "Hey," someone said quietly, "look outside." Jim looked out and froze in his seat. Nothing looked the same! No streets, no cars, no people. Nothing but trees. Big trees! Suzanne slid next to Jim and stared in wonder. "Where are we?" she said. 051111 ... andru235 "Jim," cooed Suzanne in a concillatory voice, "I am actually a mystical druidic sorceress, and I just cast the spell of instant_reforestation. that's what the piano was all about..." "But...but...why?" stammered Jim. "Well, I was 2 experience points away from reaching level 3702, and I knew that if the piano landed in the right place..." she trailed off. Jim did not understand, and taking a travel size bottle of mouthwash from his pocket, began to gargle. "Jim," said Suzanne. "Let's get serious here, shall we?" What Suzanne didn't realize was just how serious Jim *was* about gargling. This led her to conclude her 60,005 page treatise on the organization of intergalactic donut rhomboids. All this was too much for Jim, who just kept gargling and gargling, until... 051112 ... IGG ....his alterego Joe decided that, enough was enough. 'Stop gargling' snapped Joe, 'and instead check out that fine intergalactic piece of ass that calls itself Suzanne.' Jim obediently stopped gargling, letting dribbles of now seaweed-flavoured mouthwash trickle out of his mouth and onto someone's head, who just so happened to be sat on his knee. 'WHAT THE....?" shouted Jim in ecstasy, spraying mouthwash everywhere. It glowed a brilliant, radioactive blue before burning holes in everything it touched. The small child on his knee(he'd assumed) swivelled it's head 360 degrees around, then back 180 degrees to face Jim/Joe/It menacingly. It's black eyes sparkled malevolently, and it started... 051112 ... oren ... to sing. A tune so melancholy, yet alluring. Jim started, but Suzanne held him fast, assuring him that it was okay. "It's okay, Joe," she said. "Joe? You know about Joe?" Suzanne smiled. "Of course I know about Joe! I'm the one who planted him in your subconcious!" Jim stared at her. Then he noticed her heaving bosom... 051112 ... IGG and the hole from the mouthwash that had dissolved right through her body! "Oh Em Gee!" he shouted, spitting in her face. Suzanne looked suitably puzzled until he pointed out that Oh Em Gee was Earthspeak for OMG!. She nodded, enlightened. Then she looked down at Jim, who was busy poking his fingers through the hole in her chest, when a tentacle snaked out of said hole in the magnificent bosom and... 051113 ... oren ... started tickling Jim/Joe. "You like that? Huh? You like that?" she said teasingly. Joe/Jim, giggling uncontrollably, noticed Suzanne's gaping holes were not so gaping anymore as smaller tentacles were busy with the regeneration process of which they, quite apparently, were capable. By the time Sue--Jim/Joe had decided to drop the formal moniker--stopped tickling him, she was whole again (no pun intended). 051113 ... andru235 "Do you think these drapes look good with that wallpaper," asked Suzanne in a plaintive, wailing voice. "Lady," said Jim/Joe, looking her squarely in the tits, "I'm not even sure if my name is Jim or Joe, these days. How would I know if those drapes go with that wallpaper?" It was at this point that Jim/Joe realized there wasn't even any wallpaper or drapes to be seen! SUZANNE WAS TRYING TO TRICK HIM! But the question was, ... 051113 what's it to you? who go blather from