status report from the mystic:interlude on life support
the newspaper girl stood, turned and while exiting the chinese soup and noodle dish house directed to the waitress call 9 1 1 - people fell into the river!. leaving her cold weather wear behind, the newspaper girl took full stride towards the bridge. she had distanced some 200 yards when a brilliant light deadened her progress. her arms raised she produces a pair of sunglasses dangling from the neckcut of her newspaper gown. she adjusts...noting that she apparently had left the shadow of the bridge.
she resumes her sprint and completes the remaining 250 yards to the river's edge. halting, she counts three adult males casually mixing backstrokes and simple floating techniques. somewhat confused, she somewhat urgently inquires are you hurt??? - pause - where are the others??? and as she concludes she notes an old boat nearby being boarded by a person leaving the water.
all's fine here, young lady. is the response from the water. thousands of years of swimming in the fjords have made us impervious to the cold!
The Captain scowls and tightens the sash on her terry-cloth robe as she turns on the stove to start a kettle of tea.
Nine damn survivors, all completely unscathed; this I did not need; and the biggest fish is not among them. How on earth am I going to keep those cult-induced carpet cleaners safe from this polar-bearing cross-dressing Scandinavian lot? And vice-versa now that you mention it.
Something occurs to her and quickly she shuffles over to the speaking tube and calls out:
Walfus, drop some depth charges; on the off chance that frog's still down there. Actually drop them all; we could use the space, and won't be needing where we're heading.
"Depth charges 500 meters astern!"
"Direction?"
"She appears to be circling the pickup vicinity."
"Steady as she goes."
Mutex sipped his coffee reflectively.
Inspiration struck Mutex. "Put up the antenna and switch to the Coast Guard emergency frequency."
"Ready sir."
Mutex keyed the mic. "Coast Guard, come in Coast Guard. This is motor yacht Charlie the Tuna"
"This is the Coast Guard. Who am I speaking with and what is your situation?"
"Terrorists are trying to blow up the Harbor Bridge! They're throwing some kind of bombs in the water!"
'Who am I speaking with?"
"This is Stanley Miles. I'm the captain"
"Thank you captain Miles. You say it's the bridge? We have reports of explosions but not the location."
"The bridge, definitely. They're circling one of the supports."
"Can you describe the vessel? Do you see any markings?"
"It's a long, low vessel. Some kind of barge I guess. I can't see any markings. They might be painted out. The ship's all gray."
"Thank you, captain, we've got ships on the way. You get out of there!"
"I'm way ahead of you on that one, sir. Charlie the Tuna out."
Mutex replaced the mic in its clip. "That should make things interestering for our old friends. Antenna Down!"
the newspaper girl shrugs and turns to walk away. it is only then she notices a pen clutched in her left hand.
look at me she exhales. i keep thinking something big is going to happen and i'm going to be there... she raises her right arm and extends it in aim, following through with her left. the pen travels with speed.
she momentarily follows its flight but loses her sight line as the bridge's shadow intercedes. slump shouldered and head downward she walks.
aaaaaaagh! damn it! who threw that?!
startled, the newspaper girl assumes her pen has struck someone. she runs ahead and into the shadows. some 20 yards ahead is an adult male rubbing the back of his head. she continues and offers heart-felt apologies along the way.
she stops within an arms length of the pen-plunked man. he looks at her and is set to comment on her unusual attire. she looks at him and notes he is dripping wet.
are you hurt?
he looks at the pen in his hand i don't know...this could be permanent and hands her the pen.
Comments
the newspaper girl stood, turned and while exiting the chinese soup and noodle dish house directed to the waitress call 9 1 1 - people fell into the river!. leaving her cold weather wear behind, the newspaper girl took full stride towards the bridge. she had distanced some 200 yards when a brilliant light deadened her progress. her arms raised she produces a pair of sunglasses dangling from the neckcut of her newspaper gown. she adjusts...noting that she apparently had left the shadow of the bridge.
she resumes her sprint and completes the remaining 250 yards to the river's edge. halting, she counts three adult males casually mixing backstrokes and simple floating techniques. somewhat confused, she somewhat urgently inquires are you hurt??? - pause - where are the others??? and as she concludes she notes an old boat nearby being boarded by a person leaving the water.
all's fine here, young lady. is the response from the water. thousands of years of swimming in the fjords have made us impervious to the cold!
Nine damn survivors, all completely unscathed; this I did not need; and the biggest fish is not among them. How on earth am I going to keep those cult-induced carpet cleaners safe from this polar-bearing cross-dressing Scandinavian lot? And vice-versa now that you mention it.
Something occurs to her and quickly she shuffles over to the speaking tube and calls out:
Walfus, drop some depth charges; on the off chance that frog's still down there. Actually drop them all; we could use the space, and won't be needing where we're heading.
eye eye cap'n comes the tinny reply.
And then the thumps start.
"Direction?"
"She appears to be circling the pickup vicinity."
"Steady as she goes."
Mutex sipped his coffee reflectively.
"Ready sir."
Mutex keyed the mic. "Coast Guard, come in Coast Guard. This is motor yacht Charlie the Tuna"
"This is the Coast Guard. Who am I speaking with and what is your situation?"
"Terrorists are trying to blow up the Harbor Bridge! They're throwing some kind of bombs in the water!"
'Who am I speaking with?"
"This is Stanley Miles. I'm the captain"
"Thank you captain Miles. You say it's the bridge? We have reports of explosions but not the location."
"The bridge, definitely. They're circling one of the supports."
"Can you describe the vessel? Do you see any markings?"
"It's a long, low vessel. Some kind of barge I guess. I can't see any markings. They might be painted out. The ship's all gray."
"Thank you, captain, we've got ships on the way. You get out of there!"
"I'm way ahead of you on that one, sir. Charlie the Tuna out."
Mutex replaced the mic in its clip. "That should make things interestering for our old friends. Antenna Down!"
look at me she exhales. i keep thinking something big is going to happen and i'm going to be there... she raises her right arm and extends it in aim, following through with her left. the pen travels with speed.
aaaaaaagh! damn it! who threw that?!
startled, the newspaper girl assumes her pen has struck someone. she runs ahead and into the shadows. some 20 yards ahead is an adult male rubbing the back of his head. she continues and offers heart-felt apologies along the way.
she stops within an arms length of the pen-plunked man. he looks at her and is set to comment on her unusual attire. she looks at him and notes he is dripping wet.
are you hurt?
he looks at the pen in his hand i don't know...this could be permanent and hands her the pen.
she reads "sharpie" on the pen and laughs.