Poopie Loopsgreenspun.com : LUSENET : FRL friends : One Thread
This story, as with all of the author's previous related stories, is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious way. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Author’s Note to new readers (if any, assuming we ever un-password the forum): Although this story continues where the last left off, you don’t really need to read any of the previous stories to understand what this one will be about, though you may want to read the last two stories anyway since there will be some references to them. They are in the “Story” Section of the archives.
The first is called “The Siblings” and tells how Pat and her siblings saved the Earth from the KL9 Asteroid using Poopie Loops in what was called the Big Toot. The link is: http://hv.greenspun.com/bboard/q-and-a-fetch-msg.tcl?msg_id=009kXb
The most recent story was just called “Story” and told what happened to Pat after the Big Toot. In it, we met a new character called Carol Oz. The link for that one is:
Well, as promised, here it comes...the sixteenth story in what has become known as “The Saga”.
-- Rob Michaels (firstname.lastname@example.org), May 14, 2003
Arnold Duff was the president of a very special company called Poopie Inc., makers of both Poopie Puffs and Poopie Loops cereals. His plant was larger and newer than the surrounding factories in Gympie. There was no mistaking it, even from a distance. A huge plastic Poopie Loop sat proudly atop the roof and was the most visible thing for miles.
In fact, the factory had become a landmark and tourist attraction. People came from all over to visit the plant. And they spent a surprising amount of money on his Poopie Merchandise.
Tomorrow was expected to be a very special day for Arnold. He was having a couple of very important government people over to the factory and wanted everything to be just so. They were from some international agency called the Advanced Defense and Research Organization (ADRO). One of the guests was flying all the way from the States. They were to take a private factory tour and then present him with an award for his role in helping save the planet from the KL9 asteroid. He couldn’t wait to meet them.
In his late sixtees, Arnold liked to be called “Pops” by everyone. He had no idea that his employees secretly called him “Poopie Pops” as a sign of their great affection for him. He was like everbody’s favorite grandfather, and was the type of person who, despite their success, hadn’t made any enemies.
As he drove from the outskirts of Gympie he smiled with pride. There it was: his plant; the only Poopie Loops facility in the whole world. Poopie Loops, together with Poopie Puffs, were the most popular cereal of all. People everywhere loved them. Or so he thought.
But there was someone who didn’t like Poopie Loops at all. And as “Pops” drove into town, smiling towards his factory, he had no idea that this person was about to do something to show his displeasure---
-- (FRLian@fiction.writer), May 14, 2003.
furiously popping popcorn, mixing lemonade ...
-- helen (email@example.com), May 14, 2003.
Carol Oz looked at the monitor one last time. Flight 2453 had just arrived at Gate 45. She walked over to the waiting area and surveyed the passengers as they disembarked.
There! That must be her. Carol approached a young woman who looked about 25 or so, and was obviously pretty despite the very long flight from the States.
“Julie? Julie Eden?”
Julie turned to see the woman who had just called her name.
Carol Oz was in her mid sixties but looked almost a decade younger. Julie shook the hand that was extended to her and returned the older woman’s warm smile as she nodded her head.
“Welcome to Australia, Julie. I’ll bet you can’t wait to see Pat.”
Julie laughed. “Thanks Carol. There’s nothing in the world I’d rather do. I miss Pat so much!”
“Lovely. Well, let’s be on then, dear. We’ve a drive to get where we’re going you know.”
The two ADRO agents started off together, neither one realizing they were about to start yet another crazy adventure.
-- (firstname.lastname@example.org), May 15, 2003.
LOL Rob. I think you must have been to OZ at same stage. "A huge plastic Poopie Loop" fits right in with our other tourist attractions such as the "Big Pineapple" and the "Giant Lobster" etc. I can't wait for the next bit.
P.S. Where's Aunt Bee with the fudge?
-- Carol (looks@decade older.com), May 15, 2003.
We're having a crazy adventure!
-- helen (email@example.com), May 15, 2003.
Gympie, Australia outskirts
Alexander Lawless thought back to his escape from the Alien vessel and smiled. It wasn’t a pretty smile either. He reflected on how he had managed to survive these last few hot summer months in Australia; a testament to his own brilliance, he was sure. In actuality, he had done quite well for himself, living just outside the small ugly town, sneaking in just often enough to steal food and the other things he required.
And all despite the fact that that stupid, smelly Dog he held for a hostage had run off and got away. But it didn’t really matter now; it wouldn’t stop him from what he had to do. Nothing would. He knew that now, knew it with absolute certainty.
He may not have the Dog, but he did have something of extreme value...
something that belonged on the Alien’s vessel but he had the good luck to have put in his pocket...
something that was useless by itself, but when combined with one other thing---a thing that he could build---would be just what he needed to carry out his plan.
And he had plans.
He only needed a couple more parts for the Thing he was building. He started walking towards the electronics store in town. Stealing what he needed was easy. In a few days all should be ready.
His smile widened, distorting his features. Anyone seeing that smile- --that face---would have shuddered.
I’ll show them. Ha Ha Ha! I’ll show them all---
-- (firstname.lastname@example.org), May 16, 2003.
Oh boy! A story, and popcorn too! :-)
-- Gayla (now@where's.the fudge?), May 16, 2003.
Gasp! Alexander bin Lawless! I'm shuddering!
What's he building, huh? HUH?
-- Gayla (email@example.com), May 16, 2003.
Julie and Pat’s reunion was something to behold. The bond between the golden retriever and her master was evident right from the start. Julie couldn’t thank Carol enough for taking such good care of the pooch, and it was clear that Pat had developed a friendship with Carol too. The three sat in Carol’s kitchen and had a late- night snack of---what else---Poopie Loops cereal. Carol finished her bowl first and looked around her kitchen with a slight frown.
“I’m sorry the place is so untidy, but my Mum is away for awhile and she usually is the one who does the straightening out. Guess I’ll just have to get head down and bum up to set things right in the meanwhile.”
Julie giggled. “Oh, that’s ok, Carol. I think it was really nice of you to have me stay here with you, instead of at a hotel, and Pat certainly looks happy too.”
Both women laughed at Pat’s sign of agreement.
Julie looked at her dog lovingly. “Eat up Pat, we have a big day tomorrow. We’re going to be on Television! Right, Carol?”
Carol smiled. “Yes, national coverage no less. Anything having to do with the Poopie Loops factory is always big news. Why, people come from all over to gander at the 'Big Loop' and take the plant tour. It’s as popular an attraction as our 'Big Pineapple' or even the 'Giant Lobster'. So, when we present the award it will be covered by the press. Besides, everyone likes a feel-good story.”
Julie's eyes widened. "Wow, I can't wait. It's going to be so exciting!"
-- (hungry@FRLian.writer), May 17, 2003.
Alexander Lawless had just about walked out of the electronics store-- -the two stolen items hidden under his clothes---when something caught his attention. It was a scene on a television. Actually there were a dozen TV’s, all tuned to the same news channel, all with crisp, bright-colored pictures, and small tags with their prices hand- marked “Sale.” Just steps from the store exit, he stopped walking and turned to face one of the larger screens.
There it was: The Poopie Loop factory, with its 'Big Loop'. He actually grimaced at the sight of it; then smiled when he thought of what he was about to do. He listened to the announcer’s voice for the next fifteen seconds, grew increasingly excited, and then, with a quick look to his side, disappeared out of the store and walked quickly away; the words of the newsman still echoing in his head...
and the Award will be presented by Carol Oz, representing Australia, and Julie Eden, of the United States; both employees of the International Agency that took the lead in destroying the threatening KL9 Asteroid over a year ago...
This was to be good to be true! Alexander couldn’t believe his great luck. If that girl Julie was going to be there, you could bet that The Dog would be there too. They were inseparable. He chuckled to himself. This was going to be more fun than he thought. He would have to work all night to complete the Thing he was building, but it would be worth it. He had everything he needed now, and nothing could stop him. Once again a hideous smile covered his features.
This was going to be so exciting!
-- (firstname.lastname@example.org), May 17, 2003.
LOL Rob. I feel like you've been been in my kitchen. My dog and I love cereal and we eat it for a snack, not just for breakfast.
I wonder what kind of electronic mischief that Lawless is up to? Being a man, I'm sure it will be something with a remote control. I can't wait to take a gander at the next episode.
-- Carol (email@example.com), May 18, 2003.
OMG Rob, I can just feel the evil in his smirk!
Here's a plate of millionaire fudge, for a little sustenance! Rich with Caldebaut chocolate from Belgium and toasted pecans from a nearby grove. Help yourselves!
Anything to keep the writer going...
-- Aunt Bee (Aunt__Bee@hotmail.com), May 18, 2003.
Arnie Duff’s phone rang, waking him up. He glanced at his alarm clock: 5:45 am. Who the hell is calling at this hour? He picked up the phone. It was his company’s Public Relations manager, who told him to turn on his TV.
Arnie couldn’t believe what he was seeing. There was his factory, and in front of the main gates, pacing back and forth, was a mob of people. Most were carrying signs and shouting. The camera went in for a close up on a couple of the protesters. One sign read “ Save our Air”, and another said “Stop Farting Now”.
Arnie knew, along with everyone else, that Poopie Loops (unlike Poopie Puffs), made people fart. Ever since the Big Toot there had been an ongoing debate about the effects on Global Air Quality resulting from the consumption of Poopie Loops. He also knew there were some people who were against the continued manufacturing of the Loops, mostly some die-hard environmentalist groups.
But poor Arnie was totally unprepared for this; an actual organized protest against his product. And of all days for this to happen! Today he was going to get an award from Julie and Carol.
What rotten luck and timing. He turned off the TV and got ready to do the only thing he could. Go to the factory. Hopefully, things would calm down by the time he got there.
But unfortunately for Arnie, things were not going to calm down. They were going to get worse.
- - - - - - - -
Alexander had worked all evening and through the early hours, going on pure adrenaline. But his home-made Signal Amplification Transmitter was complete. All he had to do was see if it worked.
He took the Remote Piloting Device from the Alien scout vessel out of his pocket and started to hook it up to his home-made transmitter. The piloting device was almost all he needed to steal and remote- pilot the unoccupied Alien vessel in Earth Orbit, used by the Aliens only as an emergency shuttle. The one other thing he needed was something to boost the weak signal from the remote device and transmit it far enough to reach the vessel. And now he had it.
The award was set to be presented in only a few hours. Plenty of time to remote pilot the ship to where he was hiding on the outskirts of town. And then... well, then he would show them all, especially that bitch Julie----and her little dog too.
-- (sonofdust@yummy.Belgiumchocolates), May 18, 2003.
Carol, Julie and Pat were sleeping soundly when all of a sudden Pat stirred awake. The pooch looked up at Julie and heard Carol’s soft breathing from the adjacent room. They were both sleeping, both seemed fine, but something had awoken her. No, it was more than that. Something was wrong. Very Wrong. Pat could sense it.
Less than 50 miles away, Alexander started his test. He turned on his remote control and began transmitting the signal.
The test worked! The signal was very strong and the remote device was working flawlessly.
In almost no time, he would have the ship!
And then, at that very instant, Pat knew what was wrong. She could see it in a vision. It was Alexander. He had some kind of machine, and was pointing it up into the sky.
Pat didn’t know much else, but understood that she needed to tell Julie. And tell her NOW.
-- (firstname.lastname@example.org), May 18, 2003.
Washington D.C. The Pentagon
Helen Bee Mebs, head of ADRO, was working late again. Her job was very demanding, yet very rewarding too. She was one of a handful of upper-level “senior officials” that knew things many people had no idea about.
She knew that Osama and Saddam (who’s name spelled backwards was madd ass -;) were both dead, and the dates and places they were killed. She had seen the photographic proof from on-the-ground assets. She knew the truth regarding the latest space shuttle disaster---that it was no accident; she knew the truth about the SAR virus, that it was man-made, and also, who made it, and why. And she knew, and agreed with, the reasons why in each separate case, these things could not be openly disclosed.
In short, she knew a great many things and could keep secrets secret. It was for this reason she got Intel that she wasn’t exactly authorized to get, in the form of hints and innuendo’s. But she was smart, and could read between the lines. She was reading a brief on some environmental extremist group called Alu Bin Dudu when her secure telephone unit rang.
Hmmmmm, that’s strange. Not many had the secure number, and usually she wouldn’t be in the office this late. She picked up the phone and heard a familiar voice.
“Oh! Helen! Thank God you’re still in. It’s me, Julie. Pat just sent me a telepathic vision!”
“Helen spoke softly into the phone. “Now, calm down, Julie. Tell me what’s happened.”
She could hear Julie let out a deep breath as she answered. “It’s Alexander. He’s back. And he’s up to something. Something terrible. And that’s not all. To top it all off there's some kind of protest march going on in front of the Poopie Loops factory and the police just called and said we can’t go there unless things get back to normal! Carol and I are worried. Especially about Alexander. Pat couldn't tell me anything else. I... I don't know what to do. But I thought you should know.”
Helen Bee Mebs frowned. This was trouble. "Ok, Julie. As far as the award presentation, just stay put until you get the 'all clear' to go and do it. But Alexander being back is a whole different matter. A serious matter. Let me look into that from this end. I'll be back in touch as soon as I have something."
-- (email@example.com), May 18, 2003.
ACK!!! He's BACK!
-- helen (firstname.lastname@example.org), May 18, 2003.
By the time Arnie Duff arrived at the front gates of his plant, things had turned decidedly ugly. Many of the protesters were lying down in the street, blocking the factory entrance, and waiting for the local police to come and physically remove them.
Extra ‘detention wagons’ and police were already on the scene, along with several ambulances, fire trucks, and other emergency vehicles. Riot police had already been alerted and were at the ready on a moments notice from the local police, who still held jurisdiction so far. The news media was out in force, carrying the scene to anyone with a TV. It quickly became the lead story.
At the sight of Arnie Duff arriving, some of the protesters started cursing and threatening him, shouting and yelling their demands; “Stop making Poopie Loops. Save our Air. Save the Planet. No more Farting!”
Several protesters started to press towards the elderly President. The chief of police grabbed Arnie by the shirt-sleeve and placed him in a police car, with orders to ‘get him out of harms way’.
Arnie didn’t know it yet, but that was the worst of it. In only one more hour or so the police managed to break up the protest. Several dozen were arrested and then taken away in the detention wagons on various charges: refusing to disperse, marching without a permit, disorderly conduct, and several acts of property damage and violence. The remaining protesters, having apparently felt they had made their point, decided to go, feeling victorious
-- (email@example.com), May 19, 2003.
Two hours afterward, Carol got a call from Arnie’s Public Relations manager, apologizing and saying the protest was over. Arnie was at the factory now, and they could stick to the original award presentation schedule. The only remnants of the earlier circus were some of the news media, who decided they may as well just stay there, have a bite, and then cover the award ceremony which they intended to do anyway.
Helen had also called and said she had made some connections in terms of who organized the protest march, but so far had drawn a blank on coming up with any information on Alexander. Helen felt the best thing for them to do was just stick to the original plan. They were to go and present the award as scheduled. To not do so---especially after this mornings protest---would have only made matters worse. Everyone was expecting the ceremony to be on time, with Live TV coverage.
When Carol put down the phone and told Julie what Helen had said, Pat became very agitated and barked.
Julie turned to her Carol. “Two barks. That means ‘No.’ Pat doesn’t want to go.”
Both women noticed that Pat just wasn’t herself. She was jumpy and nervous. Something was still not right, but they no idea what. Pat had not sent any more visions to Julie either.
But they had to go and present the award. It had all been arranged previously.
Carol and Julie and Pat got into Carol’s car and started off on the drive from Carol’s house to the Poopie Loops factory. Pat sat nervously in the back, growling so softly that neither of the women heard her.
-- (thanks.@unt.bee), May 19, 2003.
WOW Aunt Bee, your fudge sure gets results. He's writing like a man on a mission. Your recipes sound so delicious, I always go to bed wanting chocolate after reading your posts.
That Lawless fellow doesn't stand a chance now that Helen Bee Mebs is on the case.
-- Carol (firstname.lastname@example.org), May 19, 2003.
“G’day, Arnie, it’s been a time and for sure. What a row!”
Arnie looked at Carol and smiled. “Bloody drag, that. Thank God it’s over.”
He turned his attention over to Julie. “And who’s the lovely young lady?”
Julie couldn’t help but smile. Arnie was just as Carol described: the perfect picture of a kindly old Grandfather.
Carol gestured towards Julie. “This is Julie Eden, my mate from ADRO. We’ll both be presenting you with the award. And this wonderful pooch is Pat, whom you’ve no doubt been aware of.”
Julie looked down at Pat, who looked to be back to normal. Hopefully whatever was bothering her on the drive here was no longer a concern.
Arnie laughed out loud. “Well then, no dilly dally, lets be about it. Off for the tour is what.”
With that, the President of Poopie Inc. led his two guests on a tour of the manufacturing plant, which had been temporarily closed as a common sense security measure due to the award presentation. The ceremony would start in about twenty minutes, up on the roof of the building. They were to stand directly under the “Big Loop” for the show. The news crews were already up there setting up. What a great time it would be!
Half a world away it was just about midnight. Helen had called in her remote viewers to work on finding Alexander. This was always a hit or miss thing. But this time, they hit pay dirt.
Helen had given each of them a photo of Alexander and asked for any information they could glean. It took a while, but both viewers came up with something at about the same time. Each was at a separate end of the long table in the Pentagon’s conference room. Their were no words spoken between them; each was in some kind of mild trance---yet they had each drawn the same thing: a picture of the Poopie factory with it’s unmistakable giant Poopie Loop, and over the plant, hovering in the air, a small round flying craft of some kind.
Helen looked at the pictures and gasped. “Oh, No! He’s got hold of an Alien ship and is going to attack. I’ve got to call off the award ceremony. Shit!”
The Head of ADRO looked at her watch. The ceremony had already started.
She was too late.
-- (email@example.com), May 19, 2003.
Uh, Aunt Bee, I think you'd better feed Rob again. Have you noticed that as soon as he gets hungry, Julie and Pat end up in trouble? You've got to do your ADRO duty and come to the rescue. I'd help, but I'm all cleaned out except for a bit of left over birthday cake and icecream... no chocolate, though :-( However, Rob, you're welcome to it until AB can rescue us all again :-)
-- Tricia the Canuck (firstname.lastname@example.org), May 19, 2003.
Here Rob, I just finished a Chocolate Brownie Cashew Cake covered with silken Chocolate Ganache. Carry on! We must KNOW what happens next!
-- Aunt Bee (Aunt__Bee@hotmail.com), May 20, 2003.
Helen Bee Mebs turned on the TV in the conference room and set up the Aussie news channel. There on the screen, framed by a Giant Poopie Loop, was a smiling, slightly overweight, elderly man holding up a plaque engraved with gold lettering. Carol and Julie stood on either side of him, and Pat was at Julie’s side. Everything appeared to be fine.
Suddenly Julie’s expression changed as she rubbed her temples. Helen had seen that expression and that movement before, and knew that Pat was sending Julie a vision. The Head of ADRO was really excited now. Helen couldn’t warn Julie, but evidently Pat was going to. Helen lost momentary control of her emotions and yelled out “Go Pat go! Warn her! Hurry!”
Alexander saw the Alien ship as it descended slowly to where he stood. His transmitter had worked perfectly. The craft landed and he used his remote control to open the entryway. Glancing to his left, then right, he stepped into the ship. The seamless doorway closed silently behind him. The only noise coming from the craft was a low hum.
He walked excitedly over to the control panel and pressed several buttons. The craft instantly responded. It went up and away in a flash. Estimated time of arrival at future Ground Zero was mere seconds. The most hideous smile yet decorated his face.
He opened the latch on the weapons pod to charge the laser. Man are they all in for a surprise! Hey Juuuuuulie, bend over and kiss your ass goodbye! HA HA HA HA HA.
He was almost there; ten seconds, nine, eight, seven, what?
What the hell?
Alexander’s legs had given way underneath him and he lay paralyzed on the floor. His eyes were the only part of him that could move. He could sense the ship accelerate faster and faster. What was happening? He managed to look up and saw someone looking back down at him, frowning...
and who he saw wasn’t Human.
-- (email@example.com), May 21, 2003.
Helen continued to watch Julie carefully. The vision must have been a very short one. Luckily, Julie didn’t faint or anything. In fact, the ceremony had just ended and people were shaking hands and smiling. All but one of the news crews cut back to their home stations, completely unaware of what was abuot to happen. But Helen noticed that Pat was acting very nervous, and Julie was looking up into the sky.
No, she wasn’t looking into the sky, she was looking at the Big Poopie Loop that they all stood under; and she looked very worried. Julie grabbed both Arnie and Carol by the arm and was whispering something to them, when it happened.
BOOM! The Largest Poopie Loop in the world fragmented into a million pieces and fell like shrapnel to the roof of the building, covering everyone in the area in a heap of dust, ash and debris.
Helen’s mouth gaped open and tears ran down her eyes. Oh My God! They’re dead. They must be dead. All of them. No one could have lived through that. And her final thought, before she collapsed onto the floor of the conference room, was that it was all her fault.
-- (firstname.lastname@example.org), May 21, 2003.
OMG! :-O But... but... if Alexander Lawless was paralyzed on the floor, who fired the laser? Who/what was frowning down at him? Why was Pat so nervous? Is everybody/anybody still alive?
Can Helen Bee Mebs please tell US about SARS and the Space Shuttle, etc.? I would love the answers to all of that stuff. :-D
-- Gayla (email@example.com), May 21, 2003.
Helen didn’t faint very often, in fact, she couldn’t recall ever having fainted before! When she regained consciousness she was still a bit disoriented. Her first thought was that Alexander had zapped them.
He finally did it... the bastard.
It would be several days before she uncovered the truth... before she found out that an Alien had stopped Alexander in the nick of time; that the atrocity was the work of someone else...
someone who absolutely hated Poopie Loops Inc...
someone who had organized a last-minute protest as a distraction so that the C4 explosives could be placed while the factory’s security staff was pre-occupied...
someone who was not just one person, but a group; a group of extremists whose common sense had been replaced with misguided blind zeal to Save the Planet’s Air...
a group that Helen was familiar with already, and that called itself Alu Bin Dudu.
But Helen didn’t know any of this yet, though she would be the first to put the pieces together. Right now she only had one thought---one overriding concern---and that was for Julie, Carol, and Pat.
Did any of them survive? She knew that only time would tell. Helen believed in miracles. She closed her eyes and silently, fervently, prayed for one.
For she understood a great truth; that sometimes praying is the only thing left to do.
-- Rob Michaels (sonofdust@The.End), May 21, 2003.
Amen and Bravo Rob!~ You have no idea how much you make me oohhh, ahhh, gasp and smile with your stories! :)
Good job, and here is a plate of deep dark chocolate fudge toasted with Arizona pecans as a reward!
Thanks so much for sharing your talent with!
-- Aunt Bee (Aunt__Bee@hotmail.com), May 21, 2003.
-- Aunt Bee (Aunt__Bee@hotmail.com), May 21, 2003.
Rob, what do you mean "The End"? Has my 'net missed a post again? It can't be "The End". The villains haven't got their just desserts yet. The good guys haven't been found alright at the last moment. No-one's hugged the dog. They haven't all had a BBQ and beers together. And I definitely can't hear a fat lady singing. So it can't be the end, can it? Over to you.
-- Carol (Not over@'till it's over.com), May 22, 2003.
Thanks for the very kind words and all of the great snacks Aunt Bee, these stories wouldn't be the same for me without your replies ;-)
Now, Carol, I wrote 'The End' because I finished this chapter of the story, but remember that it's a 'Saga' and kinda goes on and on (so there'll be more punishment (uh, I mean writing) in the future.
Aw poopie! I'll do one last post for this story. Stay tuned. ;-)
-- (firstname.lastname@example.org), May 22, 2003.
Two weeks later
Helen Bee Mebs walked into the jail to take a good look at the scum that bombed the factory. There were three ringleaders responsible for the horror, and all of them were in the same cell in this maximum security facility. She gave them all the once-over, followed by a look that would have curdled fresh milk. They cowered in response. The two guards at her side looked at her expectantly. She smiled, then motioned with a nod of her head for the torture to begin. They were about to get their just desserts.
As the guards went to get the instruments of torture, Helen thought about the fact that miracles do happen, that prayers are answered; Carol, Pat, Julie, and Arnie all survived the incident with nothing more than bruises, sprains, and a few fractures. Bad enough, but a miracle none the less.
It turned out that a relatively large section of the ‘Loop’---the uppermost curved portion--- came down almost in tact and fell directly over where they all were. Picturing the half-circle shaped remnant of the loop and all of them under it, Helen had to laugh. If a flat part of the loop had fell on them they would have all been crushed. Luckily, they were found all together huddled under the loop with debris piled high all around them. Pat's vision had come just in time to warn Julie and she had the good luck to have moved in exactly the right spot to avoid catastrophe.
Helen, waiting for the guards to return with the instruments of torture, let out a deep sigh as she continued to remember what happened. The first thing Arnie did was give Pat a big hug. Then Carol hugged Pat. And then Julie hugged and kissed her pooch saying “What would we ever do without you, dearest Patricia?”
After this, all of the rescuers began hugging the dog, and started a BBQ right there on the roof. People were throwing shrimp on the barbie like there was no tomorrow since Julie had told them it was one of Pat’s favorite things to eat, and kegs of Foster’s beer was brought up too.
Helen's reverie was interrupted with the return of the first guard. He arrived with the instruments of torture. Helen watched, a smile forming on her face to see the prisoners dismay.
The first guard came up to the cell with a plate of millionaire fudge- --rich with Caldebaut chocolate from Belgium and toasted pecans that the prisoners could smell but never would taste. Their eyes began watering so much it looked as though they were crying---and perhaps they were---since their torture was to see and smell these yummy desserts but never get so much as a mouthful.
The next guard came right up to the cell, displaying a whole tray of Chocolate Brownie Cashew Cake covered with silken Chocolate Ganache. Freshly baked, the delicious smell wafted through the jail cell's iron bars. Now the prisoners openly wept and cursed, pulling at their hair and gnashing their teeth in remorse.
Finally, Helen herself unwrapped the package that she had brought to complete the torture: a plate of deep dark chocolate fudge toasted with Arizona pecans. The three extremists howled as one and fell groveling to the floor of the jail cell and began pounding their heads against the hard cold floor until they were senseless.
Helen turned to the guards now, with a look of complete contentment on her face. "Well, I guess you can say that now they have got their just desserts."
And as she walked out of the jail on her way to her car, she heard something sweet fill the air. She turned back to the jail and saw a lady coming out---
A lady that was very fat---
and was singing loudly.
-- (okCarol@how's.that!), May 22, 2003.
'm gonna hafta print it out, my online time is over!
love your stories, rob!
-- helen (email@example.com), May 22, 2003.
Ah Rob, you're the sunshine in my day. I love a happy ending. Thank you. I know just how those prisoners felt too because that's how I feel every time Aunt Bee mentions one of her fabulous treats.
Surely all you wonderful writers could get together and publish a book of stories and poetry. You all have such talent.
-- Carol (firstname.lastname@example.org), May 22, 2003.
ROTFL! Rob, that was a great ending!
It certainly would have been torture for ME to see and smell those desserts and not be able to have any. ;-)
I'm glad everybody is OK! Alexander is still out there somewhere, though. YIKES! I wonder what he'll try next??? :-)
-- Gayla (email@example.com), May 26, 2003.
Well Rob, looks like you neatly tied up all of Carol's requests-LOL! You really are a writer extraordinare! I have to tell you folks, there isn't a day I come here, that someone doesn't bring a giant grin to my face, if not an all-out hysterical fit of laughter! Thanks to each of you! Oh, and instruments of torture you say? You ain't seen nothing yet! Wait, just wait until the next story starts!!! Yep, just you wait and see....
-- Aunt Bee (Aunt__Bee@hotmail.com), May 27, 2003.
Carol is all tied up down all over under...
(All over down under?)
-- Robert & Jean Cook (RobertCook@GA.herewith Lon), May 28, 2003.
Rob. I'm not sure if your "how's that" was meant to be an Aussie cricket reference, but if it was, then you definitely scored a hat trick.
I loved the ending too Gayla. I hate any kind of violence, so I thought the punishment was just perfect.
Aunt Bee. I agree entirely. I was having a lousy time at work last week and it was lovely to come here and chuckle at Rob's inventiveness.
Yes Robert, it's "all over down under", but I'm sure Alexander will re-appear. Perhaps it will be up-over in Canada with Tricia. You never know, he may even be coming to a town near you!!
-- Carol (firstname.lastname@example.org), May 28, 2003.
Glad youz guyz found it entertaining ;-) I always look forward to reading your replies...that's what makes it all worth doing for me!
BTW, Carol, I'm familiar with 'hat tricks', what with being a sports fan, but more so with ice hockey (love them New Jersey Devils!!!) than with cricket.
And speaking of our Sweet Princess, has anyone heard from her? It's unusual for her to miss a story (unheard of, actually). Maybe she's still mad about that war? ;-(
-- (sonofdust@where's.Tricia?), May 28, 2003.
Refreshing Rob.. good job! Grin.
There's an aura of chocolate chip cookie now wafting through the ethers... begging to be baked.
Psychic cookies? Formidible fudge?
Could be the makings of another edible story, eh?
-- Diane J. Squire (email@example.com), May 30, 2003.
(((Rob))) Not ticked, just busy. Carla's grad, mother's day, work, Mom's B'day, work, business seminar, more work and Miriam's b'day. May has been non-stop running - well, non-stop enough to prevent writing here. I've always got an eye out for a RobStory and always have time for a giggle at his horrible tortures. I'm getting used to suffering with the non-goodie eaters... and it's paying off. I'm down a dress size since Christmas and hope to be down another before I have to meet folk in July. I've also been getting a business off the ground (that's why the seminars and why the extra work time). I'll be attending another seminar in Nashville in September... maybe meet some of you there?
-- Tricia teh Canuck (firstname.lastname@example.org), May 30, 2003.
Diane & Tricia THE Canuk
Wasn't there an old TV series witht he tagline, "Just the fax, ma'am."
(Or was that "Tell it to the fudge!")
-- Robert & Jean Cook (RobertCook@GA.herewith Lon), June 02, 2003.
Hey Robert, you up late tonight. It must be near 2 a.m. in Dixie now. You haven't started working nights like Trish, have ya? It makes you crazy, you know.
And speaking of Trish - you lost a dress size, huh? Well ain't that SPESHUL? (Oops, did I say that out loud?) What with hospital food, crawfish boils, and good old fashion gluttony, I think I have GAINED a couple of dress sizes lately, and it is just making me a leeeeetle bit grumpy. I think I done got to the point that me and Robert won't be able to trade tu-tu's anymore.
(Trish, you know I love you, poor little skinny thing that you are!)
-- Lon (email@example.com), June 02, 2003.
Lon. Lon in a dress. Lon in a dress two sizes larger.
Gee, I wish my modem were fixed...
-- helen (firstname.lastname@example.org), June 02, 2003.
Good Sir of the Tu tu; Tag line? I think the TV show was called something like "Dragnut".
No, that wasn't it. Was it "Nuts in Drag"?"
No that wasn't it either.
I know, it was called DRAGNET!!!
-- (email@example.com), June 02, 2003.
Robbie Red Socks, I forgot to tell youse what a great job you done on the story. You are several ahead of me now - I gotta get busy!
Remember the candy bar called "Zagnut". I loved the name, but never bought one, because I think they were white. WHITE! for cryin out loud. Who would want a candy bar that was white? I usually got a bigarnge and a bumpy round. (I bet Helen knows what a "bumpy round" is.) But if the bottle hunting was slow, all we got was a couple of licorish twists to share, and maybe a pack of hot tooth picks. Man, it was easy to be rich back then.
-- Lon (firstname.lastname@example.org), June 02, 2003.