A continuing story.........

RJB, that's part of the fun! Don't scare off the new talent!!!
Glad to have you on board, gustavratzenhofer!

(Hmmm, this certainly changes things! Let me think...)

Nick, despondent, took a shotgun and disconnected his brain. His GMC Jimmy was taken to the carwash where they washed away his mind. The coke machine was broken and the attendant wasted his 50 cents.

Ah, Dys! There you are! Thanks for reminding me...
----------------------------

At the abandoned hanger near Palo Duro Canyon, General Mander and his Defense Department colleagues from the Pentagon are assembled. The videoconferencing links have been checked and are functioning perfectly. The meeting is about to begin.

"Where's Flowers?" Mander bellows. "He was supposed to bring the CI documents. How the hell are we supposed to demonstrate the device without the papers? Does anybody here know which button is which?" Mander stares down at the top-secret Chronosynclastic Infidubla device, then looks up at his colleagues. "Anybody here know how to operate this damn thing?" No one responds.

"Perhaps ve can make ze device work after all," a voice says from the telecom link. It is "Kaminsky", from an undisclosed location in Eastern Europe. "My azzociate here, Stefdnia Federkiewicz, ees an expert on ze device. Stef, vill you explain it to zem?"

As Stefdnia gives Mander's assistant a quick course in CI operations, Mander gets Rumsfeld on the phone at the White House. "Hell, yes, I want to see it!" Rummy yells. "Why do you think I've been waiting here all evening? A press conference?!"

"Okay, I think I've got it now," Mander announces. "This is the moment we've all been waiting for. We're going to do a small demonstration of the device's effects, which will be limited to a 50-mile radius. Following this, we'll take questions. Then Mr. Rumsfeld will tell us his plans for deploying the device in the Middle East. Is everyone ready?"

Holding his breath, Mander presses the yellow button on the device, which begins to whir and spin. The room begins to get very warm. Suddenly, the general's assistant whispers in his ear. "Sir, you DID push the red button just like I told you, right?"

Mander looks at the crowd of top Pentagon officials. Then he looks up at the teleconferencing screen and sees Rumsfeld's smirk. Sweat pours from Mander's brow. "Umm, yes, of course. The red button," he says as the walls of the hanger begin to dissolve...

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

The black Ford pickup pulls into the parking lot of a Denny's restaurant outside Amarillo. The "facilitator" hasn't said a word during the half-hour drive, and Gothboy is sweating bullets. He is still tied up and blindfolded.
"Don't move until I tell you," the sniper says, then opens the truck's door. Removing a large manila envelope from behind the truck's bench seat, the sniper slams the door shut and heads for the restaurant.

Once inside, the "facilitator" spots Hiama, Missy and Howard Nussbaum, head of the CIA, in the corner booth. "I believe these are the papers you want," the gunman says, handing the envelope to Nussbaum.

"And the operative?" Nussbaum asks.

"Eliminated," the facilitator answers.

"Good work." Nussbaum hands the gunman an envelope full of cash and a new passport. "Enjoy your vacation." The facilitator leaves.

Hiama and Missy are speechless. "B-b-b-but what did that mean, 'eliminated'?" Missy asks. "Never mind," Hiama interrupts. "We don't want to know."

"Don't ask too many questions," Nussbaum smiles and taps the manila envelope. "The important thing is, we now have all the evidence we'll need to stop Rumsfeld and his friends from carrying out their plans for world domination."

"What are you going to do with that information?" Missy asks.

"Oh, I think you know what to do," Nussbaum winks at Missy. Missy leans over the table and plants a big, wet kiss on Howard's cheek. Then she takes out her cell phone and calls several of her media friends in Europe to give them the news, thus simultaneously saving the free world and, more importantly, her own career.

Once Missy has finished her calls, the three friends rise to leave. They find a dazed and confused Gothboy sitting on the curb outside the Denny's. The black pickup and the "facilitator" are long gone. Nussbaum removes the blindfold and unties Gothboy's hands. Gothboy is mightily relieved to be among friends again.

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

As the effects of the Infidubla-gone-wrong reach Amarillo, the bodies on the kitchen floor of the Flowers home return to life. Sadly, Officer Jenkins is now dead. In his pocket, they find his notebook and discover the news that Jenkins had come to deliver. Neither is particularly sad to lose Gerald. In fact, no one in the world will miss him. Candy knows Gerald's government pension and life insurance will be more than enough to sustain them. Blossom will certainly not miss the father who beat her regularly. Candy decides to make an exception to her no-alcohol-for-teens policy and she and Blossom toast their good fortune with bottles of the Flowers' favorite beer, Ratzenhofer Brew.

And then the phone rings.

"Uh, Mom?" It is Sylvia. She is calling from a car wash somewhere in New Mexico, freshly traumatized by the loss of Nick, a man she barely knew but for whom she had developed a certain fondness.

"It's okay, honey. Everything is okay. It's all over. You can come home now."

NOTE:

This is all going well. And I will be participating. But I may not be able to do so right away. I'll be back soon. (But do we really have to kill off Candy and Blossom? I liked them. Why don't we kill off all the news reporters and government weirdos instead? And I object heartily to the death of Nick. So, that's my two cents.)

Trevor Burdock slowly lowered the manhole cover and retreated to the depths of the sewer to think about what he had just witnessed. He knew Officer Jenkins; he knew the man was deadly with a gun and that people just don't walk away from a close assault by Jenkins. Yet he had witnessed it firsthand -- Jenkins was dead, and the people he had shot were somehow, miraculously, still alive. There were evil forces at work here. Something beyond what Burdock had ever seen in all the years working as a private detective.

He had been tailing Blossom for several weeks. She was accused of embezzlement by a former employer and Burdock had been hired to dig up some dirt. But this was getting out of hand. Dead people don't just come back to life. Burdock spun his finger in the brackish water of the sewage system and tried to come up with a plan.

He knew what he must do. It was time to call the "Dark One"

The Dark One would know what to do.

Burdock pulls out his cell phone and dials the familiar number.

"Dark One here," the voice answers. "How may I help you?"

"I'm having another of those spells, Dark One. Tonight I saw two dead people return to life, and, I'm following a fifteen year old girl who's never held a job in her life but was accused by some company of embezzlement, and, and, I'm sitting in a sewer in Amarillo, Texas, and..."

"You've forgotten to take your meds again, haven't you, Trevor?" the voice says. "We'll be right there."

The Dark One realizes that Blossom is an honor roll high school student with an over sexed attitude. embezzlement is hardly in the cards for our girl Blossom.

DARK ONE: Gus, whattayadoin? Read up! Blossom and Candy are mother and daughter and their father/husband has just been shot and, as a human being is past tense. Now.............Richard next door is finally getting the idea he has an interest in taking Blossom up on her offer for an "all night slumber party," just the two of them. And Nick, who only dreamed he had given up his life suddenly awakens in Silvia's arms in a motel in Roswell, N.M................ Let's see if we can take it from there, crew, ok? ;-)

Trevor? He went back to New York City with Lola several chapters back.

Fine by me, Lola! I will take it from whatever point you like. Do hate to lose Candy & Blossom, though. Lotsa time spent on character development there.

Um, we can have two characters named Trevor, though, can't we? This is Trevor Burdock. I don't remember "your" Trevor having a last name. Don't want to discourage the new writer, y'know, and besides, I kinda like the idea of a P.I. in this story.

ROFLMAO at your comment about Gerald. Yeah, as a human being he's past tense alright. Waaaaaaaay past tense...rather limp by now, I suspect. (heh heh heh...)

Ratzenhofer slowly drained the contents of his Bushmill bottle and tossed it into the wastebasket of the motel room. He hung his head in despair. Booted out of another story. Life was cruel for Ratzenhofer. Moving on from one town to the next, one story to another, never finding a home. "Get him out of here!" they always screamed.

Gus snapped his briefcase shut and walked out the door.

Now, now, gus..........no need to go home mad. The Dark One didn't throw you out. Nooooooooo. Come on back and play a bit. You were doing so well. But please don't kill Blossom. If you really want to kill someone, kill Candy, she's expendable.

And Nick is an absolutely "must stay" guy.

Nick, waking from one mighty bad headache but in the arms of a fine lady, downs a large V-8. Whew, he says i gotta stay away from that Mumm. Stickin' to straight shooters of sour-mash from now on. Tossing in a CD of Hank Williams, Nick revs up the Jimmy and is on the road again.

Gustav: Please don't go away. I've been admonished several times about getting grumpy when the story lurches in a direction that I hadn't anticipated "Roll with it" was the latest suggestion.

That being said, it isn't necessary for each posting to end with death and destruction; like some teenager's video game. Some of these characters go back a long way (Nick and Mona, for example, go back perhaps to Abuzz, although I may be exaggerating about that). Please don't be too quick to kill off characters that their creators have invested time in fleshing out, little by little.

Finally, Lola (the schoolmarm of this site) asks that we write in the present tense. That can be tough, and I may have fallen off the wagon in my posting on 6/6 @8:37 pm.

Yes, yes...stay, Gus! Just read up! Lotsa interesting possibilities with this story.

To Dys...I figured Nick was your character, and if you were tired of him, it was your right to kill him off. But I sure am glad to see him back! Funny thing, that chronosynclastic infidubla...never know where it will strike...

Richard is sitting in his room. He's not draped over an unmade bed at noon on a Sunday. Quite the contrary. Richard has been awake since about 8 this morning.
The bedspread matches the curtains, of course. Richard's mom faithfully subscribes to anything Martha Stewart publishes.

Richard has just turned 16. I think his birthday was May 29th. He's a really good student: all A's except for that one inexplicable "C."

Richard's dad says that Richard would be first in his class if it wern't for the Asian kids.

Richard went to soccer camp last summer. This year it's lacrosse.
He certainly enjoys getting away from home . Last year, he asked his friends to call him Rich. This summer he's going for Rick.

The Lighthearts' phone rings. Mrs. Lightheart, known as Marylee to her friends, picks up the kitchen phone.

It is Blossom. "May I speak to Richard, please?"

"Certainly, honey. I'll go get him..."

Marylee shouts up the back staircase. "Richard? I'm sorry, Rick? It's Blossom. For you."

Richard bounds down the stairs three at a time and grabs the phone out of his mother's hand. "Yes?" he says.

"Um, Richard, we got some news today...." Blossom begins, then remembers to add a note of sadness to her voice so Richard won't suspect anything fishy. "It's bad news. About my dad. Could you come over right away?"

"Sure! Be right there!" Richard says, and he's out the door in a flash.

Going through the Flowers' back door, he sees Blossom and her mother sitting at the kitchen table drinking (!) beer. "What's going on?" Richard asks, amazed at the scene. He knows that Blossom's folks are just as strict as his own parents.

Blossom twists the cap off another bottle and hands it to Richard. "Sit down," she says. "This is serious."

Richard sits down and takes a small sip from the bottle. It is the first time he has ever tasted beer, and it tastes nasty to him. But he will certainly not admit this to anyone, much less Blossom.
"Okay, shoot," he says.

"Dad's dead. Somebody shot him, we don't know who. Or why," Blossom says. "All we know is, he's dead."

"Th-th-that's awful!" Richard says, genuinely shocked. How could Blossom and her mother sit here drinking beer calmly at a time like this?! Richard backs his chair away from the table, then starts pacing around the room.

"Well, what are you doing to do about it?" Richard asks, hopping up and down as he paces. "Are the police looking for the killer? Is this gonna be on the news tonight, or in the newspapers? Are you gonna offer a reward for information?"

"No," Candy says. "We're just happy he's gone. You may not have known this, Richard, but Blossom's father was not a very nice person. I don't want to get into the details, but let's just say our life will be a lot easier now."

Richard stares at Candy, then at Blossom, then at Candy again. He can't believe what he is hearing. He begins to wonder if the two of them had anything to do with Gerald's death...they are just too calm about this....

Nick and Sylvia decide to stop for dinner at a small little roadside diner outside of Colorado Springs. B.W. Stevenson is playing on the juke box, My Maria......................

My Maria, don't you know I have come a long long way
I've been longin' to see her
When she's around she takes my blues away
Sweet Maria, the sunlight surely hurts my eyes
I'm a lonely dreamer on a highway in disguise.
Maria
Maria, I love you.
My Maria, there were some blue and sorrowed times
Just my thoughts about you bring back, my peace of mind
You gypsy lady, you're a miracle worker for me
You set my soul free like a ship sailin' on the sea.
She is the sunlight when the stars are gray
She treats me so right lady, take me away.
Maria
Maria, I love you
Nick orders a cheeseburger, chili frietos and a Dr. Pepper, Sylvia has a chef salad with skinless chicken breast. Heading up into the hills past Manitu Springs and down into the South Park. The temp has dropped 30 degress and Sylvia looks thru her pack for a shirt with sleeves. Just coming into Buena Vista Nick spots "cabins for rent" along the Arkansas river and pulls in. Its a one room sort of affair with a corner walled off for a toilet, basin and a shower stall. Across the room is a mini-kitchen and in the center of the room is a large brass bed. 2 chairs sit under the front facing windows looking down on the river. Its getting along towards dusk as Sylvia opens up a bottle of Maker's Mark, takes two glasses (not plastic) off the shelf, tosses some ice into one with a splash of water and pours the other glass neat. Nothing is said between the two as they watch the last of the kayakers moving downstream towards town. Only the shadows of the pines are moving. Its a night for long and slow lovemaking.

Sylvia and Nick decided to say for a few more days............

This is certainly getting confusing: "Viz" suddenly becomes "Eva" and retroactively puts that moniker on all of her previous postings
(I do prefer Eva, though). And Dyslexia, who only a couple of postings ago "disconnected" Nick's brain with a blast of a shotgun in about twelve words not only has reconsidered but has gone on to write a nice set up for, possibly, yet another thread in our story. It has no adjectives in it, though, which, if intentional, was very clever.
So many threads to pick at. Thanks. -johnboy-