Originally posted by rwingettWhen PS awoke from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic pawn. He seemed to be quite stiff lying there and when he looked down he could see his legs had been replaced by a white, shiny base. His torso likewise was white and smooth, and tapered up toward his head which he was unable to see for the moment. He appeared to have no arms or legs at all.
It was late in the evening when PS arrived at the inn. The village of Redhotpawnia was deep in snow and by now was veiled in mist and darkness. PS had completely lost his bearings in the maze of narrow alleys and side streets, plus his way was made more difficult by the heavy wooden box he had to carry with him. The box that contained the bomb. PS set down ...[text shortened]... earily picked up the box, trundled up the stairs to his room, and fell into a deep, deep sleep.
What has happened to me? He thought. It appeared to be no dream. PS’s eyes (he did appear to still have eyes, or was somehow still capable of sight) turned next toward the window and looked at the overcast sky. The raindrops beating on the gutter made him quite melancholy. What about sleeping a little longer and forgetting all this nonsense about blowing up the RHP server, he thought, but it could not be done, for although his new, hard, white exterior seemed to be resistant to injury, he was unable to get into a comfortable position.
Oh God, he thought, what an exhausting business this has been! Getting rousted from his bed by the central committee of the RHPLF, lugging an unwieldily box with a bomb in it all over Redhotpawnia in a quest to blow up a server he had no idea how to find, and finally getting lost and ending up at this inn where his presence was not exactly welcome. The devil take it all! This getting up early makes one quite stupid. He had half a mind to take the box, throw it in the river and go back to his own bed. But he recalled that the RHPLF appeared to have agents within the inn who might observe such a move and report him. Better to just complete the mission and be done with it. PS was certain that with a little more rest he would recover from this silly pawn malady and be able to go on about his business normally.
All this was running through his mind at top speed without his being able to decide to leave the bed when there came a cautious tap at the door behind the head of the bed. “Sir,” said a voice –it was the innkeeper’s– “It’s a quarter to seven. Aren’t you coming down to breakfast?” PS tried to answer that he would be right down, but his voice was strange and unintelligible. His response seemed to have caused some concern with the innkeeper for now he could hear a bustle of activity and whispered voices outside the door. At the door on the other side of the room someone else began gently knocking. “Comrade,” a man with a thick accent called, “what’s the matter with you? Open the door. You must get up and complete your mission.”
PS wanted to tell them all that he was all right and would be up very shortly but for some reason they no longer seemed to be able to understand him when he spoke. He was convinced that if he could just get out of bed and clear his thoughts that his sudden transformation into a pawn would clear right up and all would be well. But how to do it? As he no longer had any arms or legs to lift himself up with, he was going to have to come up with something else. He began to rock himself from side to side in the bed in an attempt to roll out onto the floor, but as he wasn’t used to having a generally cylindrical body he found it more difficult than he’d expected. Plus, although he now appeared to be made out of some type of hard enamel or ivory, he was afraid that he might injure his head if he rolled onto the floor too suddenly. But the knocking and commotion outside his doors drove him to distraction and with one last big push he rolled himself out of the bed and hit the floor with a loud thump.
Originally posted by rwingettBitchin' cool, Rob. Reminds me of a story I heard once about a cockroach. 😉
When PS awoke from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic pawn. He seemed to be quite stiff lying there and when he looked down he could see his legs had been replaced by a white, shiny base. His torso likewise was white and smooth, and tapered up toward his head which he was unable to see for the moment. He appeared to have n ...[text shortened]... nd with one last big push he rolled himself out of the bed and hit the floor with a loud thump.
Originally posted by rwingettno, you're allright. Keep going! I love it!
I thought somebody was sure to catch onto my method with this episode. The previous two aren't as recognizable. Perhaps I should have strung you on a little longer with some adaptations of the more obscure stuff.
AS I walk through the village on my way to the shop to make some more cookies, I hear an arguement in the viollage square. I walk that way out of curiosity, and I find Sheriff Phlabbit in a heated debate over baseball. He, natural science and several other rabid baseball fans are agruing about whether it should be the SOx, Cubs, Braves, Yankees, BoSOx, etc.. They are face to face spiting as they talk
fingers pointing accusingly.
Bobla45 and Sundown316 are screaming loudly at each other as turtlex and eagles54 begin wrestling in the grass. rwingett and darvlay are laying bets on who will win the wrestling match, as Sheriif Phlabbit begins to arrest anyone not in support of his Sox.
Watching all this from a nearby tree is shaniatwainaddict, who is known for his obsession with wasps and bees. He has a stick in hand and is poking a wasp nest in the tree. Suddenly we hear loud cries and screams as he drops from the tree and jumps up running at top speed, heading for the nearest body of water followed by about 1000 angry wasps. he will never learn.,......
Originally posted by elvendreamgirlThis is perfect. 😀
AS I walk through the village on my way to the shop to make some more cookies, I hear an arguement in the viollage square. I walk that way out of curiosity, and I find Sheriff Phlabbit in a heated debate over baseball. He, natural sc ...[text shortened]... heriif Phlabbit begins to arrest anyone not in support of his Sox.
*grabs the hose and sprays Sheriff Phlabbit*
In the pub, there is a large crowd gathered, all whispering loudly and heatedly about the strange man with the box who wandered into the village the night before. Who is he? what does he want? what's in that box?
Ivanhoe and Bbarr are angrily debating the man and the box. Shavi is taunting them with wild tales about the man, saying he is a Russian spy for Gray Kasparov, here to steal the village's chess secrets. As each new person enters the pub, the room goes silent until they are sure it is just one of the village people. In the corner sits shaniatwainaddict, soaking wet and covered in wasp stings.
Originally posted by elvendreamgirl
[b]Watching all this from a nearby tree is shaniatwainaddict, who is known for his obsession with wasps and bees. He has a stick in hand and is poking a wasp nest in the tree. Suddenly we hear loud cries and screams as he drops from the tree and jumps up running at top speed, heading for the nearest body of water followed by about 1000 angry wasps. he w ...[text shortened]... sts with sticks, i shoot 'um! And im not obsessed with bees, im just addicted to a country honey!
in a thunderous night in the otherwise tranquli village, a hooded figure descends slowly down a thin rope, tightend and strung around the highmost tower of Castle Pawnia.the persons breath condenses in the icy air and the wind rips at their billowing black coak, now tatterd and shredded by many years of wear and tear.
a single spark of lightning comes down from above, striking the spot that had been vacated by the figure only moments before.
after a long and grueling slide to the bottom, the shadowy apostle heads for the nearest in, upon which kirksey takes of the black clothes and enjoys an evenings respite in front of the oven with his feet up and 3 humps of beer.
Originally posted by rwingettWhen PS finally came to he saw both the innkeeper and the bearded man from the previous evening kneeling over him. “Look, his eyes are open,” the innkeeper exclaimed, “I think he’s going to be all right.” PS looked down and saw that he had arms and legs again. He hadn’t really turned into a pawn after all. Or if he had, then he’d recovered since he bumped his head. The innkeeper, satisfied that PS was not seriously injured, returned to his business, leaving PS alone with the bearded man, who was now sitting on the box which contained the bomb.
When PS awoke from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic pawn. He seemed to be quite stiff lying there and when he looked down he could see his legs had been replaced by a white, shiny base. His torso likewise was white and smooth, and tapered up toward his head which he was unable to see for the moment. He appeared to have n ...[text shortened]... nd with one last big push he rolled himself out of the bed and hit the floor with a loud thump.
“The final preparations are all in place,” said the bearded man, “your application for a star has been approved on a provisional basis.“ He held up a shiny yellow tin star for PS to see. “To complete your mission you will need to go to the Redhotpawnia internet terminal and log onto the RHP website. All you need to know will be contained in the General Forum. This is a difficult segue, I admit, but it must be done to bring things to a successful conclusion. I must go now, I don’t want to miss the next meeting of the RHPLF central committee. Solidarity, comrade!” Before PS could say anything, the bearded man had thrust the star into his hand and quickly departed from the room, leaving PS all alone.
Feeling a little disoriented from the morning’s events, but hopeful that things were now nearing their conclusion, PS once again picked up the heavy box, made his way down the steps, and ventured back out into the streets of Redhotpawnia in search of the town’s internet terminal. Much to his surprise he quickly found it. It was a shabby building, with several layers of cracked and peeling paint, and a single open portal with no door. Above the opening was a faded sign which read INTERNET.