Weekly Short Stories Contest and Company! discussion
Brainstormin' Help
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Get to Know Your Character(Popcorn Served)
LoL! Neve: But did she kiss him back?!
Guy: What's that got to do with anything.
Neve: Well, everything. If she doesn't it's sexual assault, dummy.
Guy: Yes, I know that. [Neither speak.]
Neve: Who's Richard, Brent, Harris?
Guy: I don't remember Richard or Brent, but Harris makes me think of M's mice. But I don't think that's right. I'm sure they must be in the popcorn thread, but I am too tired to check. [He gets up from the cushion he was supposed to be meditating on.] Good night, everyone.
Sigh. I'll blame it on this getting older thing. Sounds lame, I know. And I am glad 'she' kissed him back. Now I am going to bed. Night!
Terry: Septimus and Temperance have decided that it is too loud on board and that they should vacation in some seculded house in a lonely back wood. Meanwhile, I'm having way too much fun. Y'all're completely bonkers.
Nikara: (taking a deep bow) Yes, I know. Thank you so much, Terry.Sara: (warmly) You're bonkers, too.
Kyra: (still laughing at Al) Good job, Richard!!!
Ralph played the drums. “It’snot nice,” he sang, “to make fun
of the shipboard mice.”
Rita, Harriet,
and Delores lined the rail
and sang the chorus
while Narvis let loose
on the sax. “You diss the mice,
you’d better make tracks!”
:-))M, when I read Ralph playing the drums, I wondered if he was hidden away, ghost in the machine, of this piece: Nagoya Marimbas.
:-)So glad. For me it always makes me smile and feel glad to be alive. I don't know why. Here are two more that are amazing to hear and watch. Drumming-Pt1 and
6 Marimbas.
I’m glad I’m not the only one who’s silly.
Neve: Alex has called you silly. I wonder what Pandora would say about that?Guy: [Chuckles.] I think she'd think that I've made 'progress,' whatever that means. Well, that's what I'd hope she'd think. I think. Maybe.
Neve: Are you making fun of me? Why do you find that funny?
Guy: [Laughs.] I find it funny that you feel the need to validate your thinking with what someone else thinks. Pan—
Neve: That's not what I was doing!
Guy: [Shrugs.] If you say so.
Neve: Stop mocking me!
Guy: [Shrugs.] That I have joined M I consider a huge honour!
Neve: But that's being just silly!
Guy: [Smiles.]
Terry: *moves about restlessly*Me: Would you calm down?
Terry: When's the last time you wrote something new with me?
Me: I dunno. Since the end of Demon of Decay, I guess.
Terry: So - what now? I'm getting restless.
Me: And it's making me restless.
Terry: Well, that's ominous.Me: Why are you the one commenting? I just put you through the ringer, rewriting a scene so that you're even more brutalize.
Terry: Yeah, good luck not justifying the hospital in the wrap up. But Septimus and Temperance are on vacation, remember?
Me: No ...
Terry: ... Well, they are. What do you think about Frank's new development ... I ask as you walk away ... Hey!
(M is in the carport, working on the lawn mower. He hears the sliding door open. A girl with dark, reddish-brown hair walks over. She stands and watches for a few moments without saying anything.)M: Hi, beautiful.
Alison: (Smiles, then looks around.) It’s a lovely morning, isn’t it?
M: (Nods, disassembling the carburetor.) Too pretty to enjoy.
Alison: (Sets a cup of coffee on the slab near him.) By that, I suppose you mean that the yard expects attention?
M: That’s an Alison-like way to put it. (He looks at her gratefully.) Thank you.
Alison: I’ve been thinking about your philosophy of writing.
M: Do I have one?
Alison: Uhm hmm.
M: (Dropping carburetor parts into a pan of gasoline.) I have a philosophy, and I didn’t even know it.
Alison: It’s part and parcel of your your whole approach to living, of course.
M: (Picking up the coffee mug.) Avoiding yard work at all costs?
Alison: (Laughs.) No. I mean that the things you like and don’t like about what you read are related to your tastes in other things, as well.
M: I hesitate to request a for instance, but I seem to be cornered. (He takes a sip of the coffee and sets down the mug.)
Alison: Think about your taste in people.
M: (Cleaning small parts with a brush.) Oh, you mean that I don’t like being around people who are loud or talk a lot?
Alison: (Arches an eyebrow.) For the most part, you like writing that’s quiet and introspective.
M: I guess that’s true. I’ll have to think about it. There’s plenty of good writing that isn’t that way, though. (He removes a small, wire screen and cleans a part with a toothpick.) In the Yacht Club, there’s a lot of talk about how a poem should show, not tell.
Alison: You don’t entirely agree with that.
M: I think I might, if all but a handful of the members weren’t helpless to generate examples.
Alison: That isn’t what I mean.
M: (Shrugs.) I don’t think it’s that simple.
Alison: You think that people who are more in touch with their unconscious write better poems and stories.
M: Not in touch in a way that can be learned. (He sorts the screws and starts reassembling the carburetor.) I think a person can become more effective at writing, of course--learn to tighten up sentences, use active verbs, throw in carefully-chosen images, that sort of thing.
Alison: All that’s superficial stuff, though?
M: (Nods.) It seems that way to me, I guess. What makes writing great is an intuitive knack for what can be left out, what can be implied, in a way that only the unconscious knows how to do, and for the really vivid, complex images, that come up on their own from the deep dark. My impression is that you have to be born wired that way. (He puts oil on the threads of a couple of bolts.) How did we get into this discussion?
Excellent popcorn M. What happened in the Yacht Club that prompted this interesting fugue?
When I started this fugue, I had planned for it to go somewhere, but I never got past the toccata.
Nikara: How long do you think it will take before this thread becomes active again?Sara: (without taking her eyes off her book) Well that depends. How long does it usually take for Al and Frank to get into trouble?
Kyra: NIKARA! SARA!
Sara: (still not looking up) Or until Kyra gets down here.
Kyra: (storming into the room) YOU GUYS FLOODED MY ROOM!!!
Nikara: Actually, Sara did that. And it's not your room; you share with the other female crew members.
Kyra: (still fuming) The water got into all my books! My entire personal library is ruined!!!
Sara: (finally looking up from her novel) Well, that sucks. But isn't that library your mental one? So go read from your actual one when you get bored.
Kyra: (staring at her incredulously) My mental library contains almost every book I've ever read! Sara, do you know how many books that is?
Nikara: (checking Goodreads on her phone) Um... one hundred and fifty-seven?
Kyra: (snarling) No. Those are just the ones I've bothered to hunt down and put on my "read" shelf. We're talking hundreds, maybe even thousands of literary pieces here!!!
Sara: (still indifferent) Don't worry, I'll get them back for you eventually. For now, just raid my library. The great thing about my library is, since I'm fictional, I can even make up literature. Just conjure nonsense out of thin air. See? (turns her book's cover to face Kyra) I injured this one about an hour ago. Might be my best work yet.
Kyra: You really don't get it, do you? My mental library is gone. I'd committed entire passages to memory, and what I didn't memorize, there were still scenes and images from the books. I could revisit them whenever I wanted, but now? Nothing.
Nikara: (slowly feeling sympathetic) Hey. It's all right. Alright? We'll go get you some more books, replace your library.
Kyra: (still angry) How?
Sara: Yeah, how do we do that, Genius Girl?
Nikara: Her subconscious.
Kyra: (catching on) Oh. I see. Very clever.
Sara: (confused) What?
Nikara: We go to her subconscious. There are traces of her every memory imprinted on it. If we can find the remnants of her memorized passages and scenes, she can bring them back to her conscious state of mind. We can build up her library.
Kyra: (excited) So, what are we waiting for, then? Subconscious, here I come!!!
Sara: (sighing)(swinging her legs over the side of her hammock) I'm going to regret this, aren't I?
Where can I get this book? Is it on Amazon? Or do I need to go to a physical book store? If so which one?
I would of thought amazon would have automatically filled that info in for you J.B., now that they own G.R. ...or did they?
J.B. wrote: "Anna Nigma wanders through. She's a ghost of a thirteen year old who, although not able to eat popcorn herself, still enjoys its aroma.Anna: Mmmm... Nothin' bettery than buttery.
J.B.: (approachi..."
An enigma?! So funny J.B.! Loved it.
Terry: Wow, it's been a while since we've been here.Me: Thank you, Captain Obvious - I'll be sure to talk to the Colonel about your promotion.
Terry: You know why you're grumpy?
Me: Don't get me started.
Terry: Oh, no, it's none of that stuff. Sure, your exhausted and your job is insane for tiny pay, plus your two closest friends are always on the edge of throttling each other, but the real reason your grumpy is that you haven't done any real writing in well over a month.
Me: ... Congratulations on your promotion, Major.
Mouse #14: The reception out here in the Caribbean isn’t very good, is it? (Glancing at the snowy picture on the television screen, she sets a tiny, steaming tray in front of him.) It’s Sara Lee.Mouse #1: Thank you, Harriet. (Raising his eyebrows.) The cold storage must be holding out.
Mouse #14: (Nodding.) What’s bothering you, dear? Is it that mission the captain and Miss Gray Eyes have undertaken?
Mouse #1: (Shakes his head.) I just don’t like the idea of attacking a defeated country.
Mouse #14: Hardly defeated, dear. It has a standing army of something like eight thousand.
Mouse #1: (Picks up a tiny bib and hooks it around his neck.) That isn’t what I mean. There are civilized people there . . .
Mouse #14: Don’t think about it, Phil. (She walks to the little television set and adjusts the antenna.)
Mouse #1: (Sitting up in anticipation.) There he is!
(In black and white, on the tiny screen, Lawrence Welk bows and addresses the audience: “Welcome to tonight’s show . . .”)
Mouse #6: M got into it last night in that “Soggy Cup” thread, didn’t he? (With an expression of distaste, he spits out a piece of a Twizzler.)Mouse #2: He’s in his bunk, sleeping it off.
Mouse #8: Loretta says you can hear him snoring clear out in the passageway. (He sniffs a Jolly Rancher wrapper, then glances at Phil.) How was the show?
Mouse #1: (Grunts.) Batteries went dead on the damned thing.
Mouse #2: Not during Lawrence! (He glances out, beyond the railing. It’s a pleasant morning, with a breeze that makes the waves sparkle.)
Mouse #1: Yeah, right in the middle of Jack Imel playing “I’ll See You in My Dreams” on the marimba.
(The mice watch seagulls diving for a beignet one of the crew has thrown overboard and that bobs on the waves.)
Mouse #6: (Contemplatively.) That two-inch screen takes a lot of juice.
Mouse #2: Four D cells. They aren’t easy to come by, either.
Mouse #1: I had saved the peach cobbler to eat when Norma Zimmer did her number.
(Mouse #6 nods commiseratively, nibbling a broken pretzel.)
Mouse #8: I get sick of those Geritol ads.
LoL! M, these are so funny! At first I read 'I get sick of those Gerbil ads'.
Thank you, Kat! The conversations among the mice are a lot of fun to write.
You're welcome, M. Can't wait for more.
Leslie is sitting on an old wicker chaise lounge, just outside the ship’s tavern, munching popcorn while reading the haiku thread, when Andy walks in, holding a bag of cheddar and sour cream flavor Ruffles.
Leslie stares at the laptop screen, ignoring Andy who sits beside her. Andy gets annoyed and starts to make grunting sound.
Andy: Your time’s up.
(Leslie slowly turns her head to Andy’s direction)
Leslie: What do you mean?
Andy: Your leave of absence. Your one month is up.
Leslie: I don’t remember filing a leave of absence.
Andy: You did, in your mind. I have an access.
Leslie: Who gave you the right to access my mind? As far as I can remember, I thought of filing an indefinite leave, not just one month.
(She gapes at Leslie)
Andy: You can’t do that. I’m going to miss my fiance. (She frowns while Leslie giggles. When Andy’s words sinks in, Leslie’s eyes widen before she gasps)
Leslie: How did you know that? I haven’t written that part yet! (she throws a handful of popcorn at Andy, which the latter evades)
Andy: I accessed your mind, remember? (She snorts. She looks around the ship and starts to act nervous) What are you doing here anyway?
Leslie: err, reading?
Andy: In a ship like this?
Leslie: What’s wrong with the ship? The people here are nice, funny and brilliant. I have the tavern all by myself in the morning and the popcorn is always free.
Andy: Why have popcorn when you can have Ruffles?
Leslie: Why do you ask a lot of questions? You’ve never done this before.
Andy: Well, we’ve never done this before, haven’t we?
(Leslie huffs and continues reading the haiku thread)
Andy: Come on, let’s go.
Leslie: To where? I’m having fun here. Stay for a while and you’ll have a grand time.
Andy: No. I don’t think I can stay here another minute. (She looks around and spots the mice)
Leslie: Why?
Andy: Because I’m a heiress, I don’t belong here. Besides, there are too many rats here. I can’t stand it. (She hugs herself, maintaining the look of disgust on her face)
Leslie: Don’t call them rats, call them mice…See, there’s Mouse 1 and Mouse 14. Say hi to them.
(Leslie takes Andy’s hand to wave at the mice but the latter snatches her hand away)Be nice or they'll inject you with something that can make you constipated.
Andy: They can do that!?
Leslie: Hmm, They're M's, so yeah, I think they can do that.
Andy: Whatever. (She tosses her hair off her shoulders) Come on! Let’s go. Write something.
Leslie: Slave driver. (she grunts) I’ll write whenever I want. That’s what I want.
Andy: How about what I want?
(Leslie looks annoyed and refuses to look at Andy.)
Leslie: Fine, what do you want?
Andy: I want world peace.
Leslie: That’s what you always say.
Andy: It never gets old.
~I thank you. *bow* :)
Leslie stares at the laptop screen, ignoring Andy who sits beside her. Andy gets annoyed and starts to make grunting sound.
Andy: Your time’s up.
(Leslie slowly turns her head to Andy’s direction)
Leslie: What do you mean?
Andy: Your leave of absence. Your one month is up.
Leslie: I don’t remember filing a leave of absence.
Andy: You did, in your mind. I have an access.
Leslie: Who gave you the right to access my mind? As far as I can remember, I thought of filing an indefinite leave, not just one month.
(She gapes at Leslie)
Andy: You can’t do that. I’m going to miss my fiance. (She frowns while Leslie giggles. When Andy’s words sinks in, Leslie’s eyes widen before she gasps)
Leslie: How did you know that? I haven’t written that part yet! (she throws a handful of popcorn at Andy, which the latter evades)
Andy: I accessed your mind, remember? (She snorts. She looks around the ship and starts to act nervous) What are you doing here anyway?
Leslie: err, reading?
Andy: In a ship like this?
Leslie: What’s wrong with the ship? The people here are nice, funny and brilliant. I have the tavern all by myself in the morning and the popcorn is always free.
Andy: Why have popcorn when you can have Ruffles?
Leslie: Why do you ask a lot of questions? You’ve never done this before.
Andy: Well, we’ve never done this before, haven’t we?
(Leslie huffs and continues reading the haiku thread)
Andy: Come on, let’s go.
Leslie: To where? I’m having fun here. Stay for a while and you’ll have a grand time.
Andy: No. I don’t think I can stay here another minute. (She looks around and spots the mice)
Leslie: Why?
Andy: Because I’m a heiress, I don’t belong here. Besides, there are too many rats here. I can’t stand it. (She hugs herself, maintaining the look of disgust on her face)
Leslie: Don’t call them rats, call them mice…See, there’s Mouse 1 and Mouse 14. Say hi to them.
(Leslie takes Andy’s hand to wave at the mice but the latter snatches her hand away)Be nice or they'll inject you with something that can make you constipated.
Andy: They can do that!?
Leslie: Hmm, They're M's, so yeah, I think they can do that.
Andy: Whatever. (She tosses her hair off her shoulders) Come on! Let’s go. Write something.
Leslie: Slave driver. (she grunts) I’ll write whenever I want. That’s what I want.
Andy: How about what I want?
(Leslie looks annoyed and refuses to look at Andy.)
Leslie: Fine, what do you want?
Andy: I want world peace.
Leslie: That’s what you always say.
Andy: It never gets old.
~I thank you. *bow* :)
This high-grade Popcorn Served dialog goes perfectly with my first cup of coffee!
Thank you, M! I'm learning from the experts :) Good morning!
Boss and I are going to the big city today, on a book safari. It’s one of my favorite things to do. The largest Half Price Books store in the country is on Northwest Highway in Dallas. We usually bring back a loaded box.
Wow, that's exciting :) I missed doing that, going to book sale. Though it might not seem obvious (since I'm always wandering here), I'm always out and about doing things, simultaneously. My phone is just handy.
Have fun :))
Have fun :))
Excellent Leslie! Great start to my day. I've been wanting to popcorn for a while, so a quick pre-work one.Professor: Harrumph!
Neve: What's wrong?
Professor: It looks like another odd ball has joined the popcorn.
Neve: [Raises highbrows.] So? That seems norm—
Professor: It frustrates me when women take on male names.
Neve: Huh? [The raised eyebrows become compressed in suppressed anger.] What did you say?
Professor: I have come to understand that people with these kinds of intersexed names have gender issues. [He takes out his empty pipe and with a small flourish puts it to his mouth. He sucks on it hard enough that it softly whistles.] Interesting new case here.
Neve: [Laughs.] You really are a moron!
Professor: What?!
Neve: Never mind. You wouldn't understand. [She finishes buttoning up her blouse, carefully adjusts her skirt before touching up her soft red lipstick.] Well, time to get back to the halls of academe.
Professor: Don't tell anyone!
Neve: [Pause to turn back at him.] Seriously? [Leaves.]
Lol! Thanks Guy! I didn't expect the name would be noticed by the professor :))
Prof: I notice everything! Who does this Leslie person think I am?Guy: Who are you talking to?
Prof: [Jumps. Drops his pipe, then clatters it around picking it up.] Where did you come from?
Guy: I was sitting here. [Laughs.] What, didn't you notice me? [Laughs.]
Andy: I think I need a lawyer.
Leslie: Why?
Andy: I want to file a restraining order.
Leslie: Huh?
Andy: (whispers)I want to file a restraining order against Him (points at the Professor)
Leslie: Huh?
Andy: Nevermind. Just go back to sleep.
Leslie: Huh?
Leslie: Why?
Andy: I want to file a restraining order.
Leslie: Huh?
Andy: (whispers)I want to file a restraining order against Him (points at the Professor)
Leslie: Huh?
Andy: Nevermind. Just go back to sleep.
Leslie: Huh?
*Kirilee: Andy, don't worry. Everyone wants to file a restraining order against the Professor.
Kat: *gasps* Kirilee, don't say that, it's rude!
Tyan: *pokes his head in* It's true!
Kat: But you don't need to say it out loud. The Professor has a delicate ego.
Kirilee: Yeah, I think Al broke it the other day.
Kat: SHHHH!
Andy: See, Leslie. I'm right, my instincts are still working.
Leslie: It's too early to talk about instincts.
Andy: Kirilee said that everyone wants to file a restraining order against the Prof. I have a feeling he's a stalker.
Leslie: (gasps) You just jump in the ship yesterday and now you're judging people?
Andy: I have proof and it gave a merit to my assumption.
Leslie: Huh?
Andy: While you were reading, I did some snooping. The Prof seems to appear out of nowhere. I saw a discussion of Pandora, Neve and Guy--and don't ask me what the discussion was all about, because I didn't understand it--and the Prof just showed up, uninvited.
Leslie: (stares wide-eyed at Andy) Don't start, Andy. I won't tolerate you bullying the Professor.
Andy: I'm not!
Leslie: Fine.
Andy: Can you just tell him that Andy is just a nickname? I don't want to be called Andrea.
Leslie: It's too early to talk about instincts.
Andy: Kirilee said that everyone wants to file a restraining order against the Prof. I have a feeling he's a stalker.
Leslie: (gasps) You just jump in the ship yesterday and now you're judging people?
Andy: I have proof and it gave a merit to my assumption.
Leslie: Huh?
Andy: While you were reading, I did some snooping. The Prof seems to appear out of nowhere. I saw a discussion of Pandora, Neve and Guy--and don't ask me what the discussion was all about, because I didn't understand it--and the Prof just showed up, uninvited.
Leslie: (stares wide-eyed at Andy) Don't start, Andy. I won't tolerate you bullying the Professor.
Andy: I'm not!
Leslie: Fine.
Andy: Can you just tell him that Andy is just a nickname? I don't want to be called Andrea.
Terry: So -Me: Please shut up.
[silence]
[Septimus walks in.]
Terry: Like she said, M's mice.
Septimus: What are you two talking about?
Me: Nothing
Septimus: O...kay.
Mouse #14: (Sniffing among crumbs left that afternoon on the galley floor.) Thank heavens for Herbert and Narvis! (She stops a moment and adjusts her tiny bonnet.)Mouse #13: (Nods.) Harriet, I honestly don’t know what we would do without them. (She picks up something chocolate coated and nibbles it.) Ugh! Simply contemptible.
Mouse #15: (Looks up, icing on her nose.) What is is it?
Mouse #13: (With an expression of disgust.) For a moment I thought it was Black Forest cake. (She flings it away.) It’s the end of a damned Ding Dong.
Mouse #14: (Finishing off a morsel of strawberry.) I’m not sure just how the boys managed it, but Phil’s TV works good as new, and just in time. Lawrence Welk comes on tonight.
Mouse #15: (Daintily wiping her nose.) Clyde told me they managed to scavenge batteries from some of those devices the crew uses. Apparently, they had to hook several of them together to get enough power for Phil’s TV.
Mouse #14: Sometimes I wonder if there’s anything our husbands couldn’t do.
Mouse #13: (Scowling.) Narvis learned the hard way about electricity.
Mouse #15: You mean the time they tried to get a blender to run on flashlight batteries? (She raises an eyebrow.)
Mouse #14: (Her brow furrowed.) Phil isn’t always forthcoming, you know.
(The other two nod sympathetically.)
Mouse #15: Neither is Clyde. (She rolls her eyes.) I’d guess that clams have better conversational skills.
Mouse #14: (Scanning the floor.) I can’t remember exactly what Phil told me, when I finally got it out of him, but they figured out from the label on the blender how much juice the motor needed, and I think he said they hooked together about fifty of those batteries the ship has in storage . . . (She laughs in spite of herself.)
Mouse #13: You mean, used to have.
Mouse #15: Uhm hmm. For flashlights and such.
Mouse #14: Apparently, something went wrong.
Mouse #15: (Licking icing off her paw.) I think Clyde said they hadn’t connected them together right.
Mouse #13: (Nods.) Narvis’s whiskers have been twitching all on their own ever since.
Lol! I'm starting to love those mice :)
Kyra wrote: "Nikara: How long do you think it will take before this thread becomes active again?Sara: (without taking her eyes off her book) Well that depends. How long does it usually take for Al and Frank to..."
Kat, I was re-reading the popcorn tonight, and this made me laugh. And I had a small odd fushigi while doing so: Laurie Brown on The Signal tonight asked her radio audience 'Do you have in your memory every song and lyric you have heard in your life? Well,' she laughed, 'I don't!'
Pandora: [Stands up and stretches after a long zazen. Yawns. Through the thin walls she hears Sophia and the Professor arguing. She very slowly performs a few standing asanas.]Sophia: … you are despicable!
Professor: That's not fair. Nor is it accurate! Neve is her own woman! She—
Sophia: B.S. She's just—
Professor: A college age woman who has every right to see me! Every night! I mean, every right! And she isn't taking any of my classes, so we're not breaking any rules.
Sophia: What about the moral rule against manipulating young and impressionable girls—
Professor: Hey! Aren't you being the hypocrite?! Full of piss and vinegar for women's rights on the one hand, and here you are, denigrating Neve as if she were a child! It is the epitome of condescension that you would feel the need to step in as if she didn't have the intelligence to understand the—
Sophia: Stop! You're just rationalizing away the fact that you are nothing more than a little, petty academic lecher!
Professor: I am not!
Sophia: [Pause.] Do you remember when you were young?
Professor: Of course! Many people think of them as their salad days, but I am just glad they're done. [Shudders.] They were horrible!
Sophia: Meaning you didn't get the girl.
Professor: No! [He is practically shouting.]
Sophia: Huh-huh.
Professor: Really!
Sophia: Yeah. Right! With their hormones raging, all you would have had to do was say 'Hello' to the right girl and… Well, Bob's your uncle.
Professor: That's not true!
Sophia: What would you know? Here you are, a middle aged professor with thinning hair and a fear of diminished libido surrounded by frustrated academics and the only way you are getting anything is with college students who can't find their batteries.
Professor: I can't help it if they find me attractive! Women, especially young women, are looking for mentors and I just happen to—
Sophia: Make me want to puke!
Pandora: [Laughs from her room.]
Professor: Hey, who's there?! This is a private discussion!
Pandora: Not in a monastery, it isn't! [Laughs.]
Sophia: Sorry!
Professor: [Hissing.] We're not done, Sophia! We're not done. You're not going to humiliate me without consequences!
Sophia: No? Well, just make sure you check your condoms before using them. You wouldn't want any of your 'girls' to get knocked up. Now that would be embarrassing. And a sad day for state of man, in general.
Pandora: [Laughs from in her room, again.] Nice!
Professor: Hey! Aren't you supposed to be be nice and setting some kind of spiritual moral example?
Pandora: [Walks into the hallway.] And it would be a denial of spiritual truth to not laugh. Would you like to make the argument that 'laughter' is a sin?
Andy: I think the Professor needs a cold shower.
Leslie: (arches an eyebrow and lets out an exasperated huff) Andy, please..just let the Professor be..
Andy: Fine. Anyway, do you know that women talk at least 20,000 words a day?
Leslie: So, are you trying to justify why you keep on blabbing today?
Andy: No, not really. Another interesting fact though, in rodents, the male species talk or communicate more than the female.
Leslie: So?
Andy: So...it makes me wonder, you know, the mice here?
Leslie: Huh? (stares at Andy for a few seconds) Oh..
Leslie: (arches an eyebrow and lets out an exasperated huff) Andy, please..just let the Professor be..
Andy: Fine. Anyway, do you know that women talk at least 20,000 words a day?
Leslie: So, are you trying to justify why you keep on blabbing today?
Andy: No, not really. Another interesting fact though, in rodents, the male species talk or communicate more than the female.
Leslie: So?
Andy: So...it makes me wonder, you know, the mice here?
Leslie: Huh? (stares at Andy for a few seconds) Oh..
Seagull #1: (Perched on a spar.) Vergil, I’ve been hanging around this ship a long time, snapping up half-eaten sweet rolls . . .Seagull #2: French fries . . .
Seagull #3: (Nods sagely.) Tater tots . . .
Seagull #4: (Sighs.) If if it weren’t for the occasional tater tot, I think I’d go somewhere else.
Seagull #5: “If it says Ore-Ida, it’s all righta.”
(The seagulls break out into laughter. Walking along the deck, M looks up at them.)
Seagull #2: (Looking down.) Hector, are you thinking what I’m thinking?
M wrote: "Seagull #1: (Perched on a spar.) Vergil, I’ve been hanging around this ship a long time, snapping up half-eaten sweet rolls . . .Seagull #2: French fries . . .
Seagull #3: (Nods sagely.) Tater tot..."
Haha!
Me: Gugrich, you've got to get out of bed.
Gugrich: (groans) Why?
Me: The story can't go anywhere without you.
Gugrich: Sure it can. My leg hurts.
Me: Sure it does.
Gugrich: Look, last time I listened to you, I ended up walking waist deep in human feces to rescue another man's woman.
Me: True, but she found it noble of you.
Gugrich: Screw noble. Give me a few days where I'm not cleaning up someone else's mess and /then/ I'll get moving.
Me: ....the more time you give me to sit here thinking, the worse your future is going to become.
Gugrich: .... (sighs and gets out of bed)
[Silence. For a long time. Guy starts getting restless, and starts looking around for a newspaper from which he can abuse the crossword. But he only finds unsatisfactory paper remnants, fit for little more than blackening hands, wrapping fish, cleaning windows or becoming some hack's 'creative' papier-mache art pieces over-exaggerated, overvalued and over subscribed. When he does find one, it is mostly filled in and thus lacking in challenge. Now he flips a pen in his fingers.]
Guy: How is M going to be given a chance to live? [But there isn't anyone there to answer.] Am I an island?! [No one answers.]