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Experiment: Let's write a (TB) story!

#61
"Did you hear about the upcoming war between the chimps and the ducks? It promises to become a great event. Even 20th Centurey Sox are there to capture the action". "Well", the waitress said, "That is because it is not going to be a war as we know it. According to the media they voted democratically for a more humane way of settling the problem". Meanwhile the ticking of the warhead had stopped without further consequences and the Aristoc(r)ats died on poisoned food. "What solution did they come up with?", Earl wanted to know. "Both groups have chosen a representative fighting for them". "Who? Do I know them?". "Maybe, the ducks contracted By-tor and the chimps went for the Snow Dog". As both were square for battle...
 
#62
A condolence card arrived in the mail, delivered by a female mailman. Upon opening reading it, it said, "Oh, Earl, you read such deep poetry, and you wear such fine suits," Earl realized this wasn't a condolence card, but one of the new, dreaded cajolence cards.

He needed a way out now - "Why don't you step on the scale in the kitchen, and get a weigh?" suggested Ms. McEasy.

Earl sat and thought for a moment; if he did go into the kitchen, he might have to...
 
#64
Weight indeed, or wait or think.

Earl was a deep thinker; sometimes he would lie awake at night and wonder about so many things.

He would also feel sorry for the things he could not change, and for the people who couldn't tell the difference between things.

People who got confused between vernal and autumnal, ventral and dorsal, polyester and polly want a cracker, partly cloudy and partly sunny - YO, WHAT'S UP WIT DAT???

He also thought of why in his short life had he never heard anyone say the toilet's going forward, when he had heard so many people say the toilet's backing up. :rollno:

"Here's your food, hon." Mary bringing his food to him had broken his trance. He could stop deep thinking for a while. Now there would be a chance to eat, relax and change the prices on the menu, something he so loved to do.

But the prices would have to remain unaltered for now, because the car that had just pulled up in the parking lot...
 
#65
was driven by an outrageous duck with a newly grown head. "Revenge, revenge!", it quacked. "Annihilate the chimps!". It clearly didn't know about the decision taken by the leaders, to have it fought out by By-tor and the Snow Dog. The quacking duck clearly irritated Earl. He asked Mary to bring his...
 
#66
. . . duck tape. Before you could say "flippidygibbet", the quacker, Jack, had his giblets flipped.

"Nice work. How about a gimlet, honey?" Mary offered. As much as Earl wanted to honor her offer, he was intrigued by the two identical blondes serving another brother, who appeared to be splitting them apart.

"I'll halve what he's halving. And by the weigh, who are they?"

"Those are the twins, Bluster and Panache, I'd say each of them are around 110. It's a Tom Collins, but he goes by Bootsy."
 
#67
Mary brought the side of scrapple he had ordered with his dinner. When he had sopped up every last little bit of grease from the plate, Earl lit a cigarette.

"Can I smoke in here?" he asked, puffing out a cloud of smoke.

"Is the Pope Catholic?"

With that, Earl sat and smoked, watching
 
#68
As Billy Sheehan played a bass solo on stage. Earl was amazed until something happened. Billy raised his bass over his head and brought it down. The bass was smashed to pieces. Billy then let out an inhuman growl and leaped from table to table, knocking drinks and food to the floor. When he got to earls table, Billy said
 
#69
"The precipitation over the Iberian peninsula usually falls over the non-mountainous area of the country."

Earl replied, "That's the worst play on words/encryption of The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain I've ever heard!"

Earl then looked for a box of pancake mix to whack Billy with, but just then Billy curled into a fetal position and said that the diner wouldn't be wanting for toothpicks for a very long time as he looked at the remains of his bass.

Earl would have to hurry now if he wasn't going to miss the train.

Earl had been thinking of backing out of the agreement he'd made with Mr. Atkins earlier that month, but Earl did so love riding on trains, and keeping count of all the red Volkswagons he'd see as the train whooshed through the Norman Rockwell-like towns he liked so much. Earl was colorblind.

Yes, a few hours on a train and he would be where he was not now. He paid Mary, then left.

The train's whistle announced that it was less than a mile away as Earl reached the station.

Earl thought to himself, "Drat! I've completely forgotten to...
 
#70
feed the Latvian leg lice."

After pondering the conundrum a moment he reasoned that the bipolar polar peacocks would consume them any way so all was right in grand central station.

As he made his way to his coach he was run into by a young man attempting to dash headlong into a brick column. That's odd. Earl thought. Just then a over sized rabbit hopped on his foot as he said something about being late. At this point Earl knew without a doubt that his Scrapple had the "good stuff" in it.
 
#71
Because stuffing scrapple with the good stuff wasn't allowed those days, Earl had to be careful, not to run into a stuff detector team. Such teams consisted of a special officer who had learned to read and write an a mature gnork, nown for its ability to sense stuff by the smell of the body liquids of the user.
 
#73
Arr, lads, but it was not a dream.

Earl made his way to his seat, and settled in.

He didn't settle in like the pioneers did out in Wyoming in the 1800s, he merely sat down.

Then, a man in a dark uniform with a cap came and asked Earl for his ticket; Earl asked if he was the conductor.

The man replied, "I have led the Boston Philharmonic once or twice, but for the time being, I'll just take you ticket."

Earl hated sarcasm.

Earl's compartment was very nice, and finely appointed. It had leather seats made from the finest Corinthian leather, exquisitely carved oak molding around the windows, a brass spittoon, but no place to mount a machine gun. He thought this quite odd.

There was a gentle nudge as the train began to move. He felt himself starting to doze. Doze, doze. He liked that word; it was so much less boring than sleep. He had also thought many times how doze became twelve if you added the letter N at the end.

Earl's light sleep was ended, as the conductor returned and said, "I hope you don't mind a traveling companion; there was a mix up in the tickets, and this is the only compartment with an open seat." Earl sleepily replied, "Sure, why not?"

Earl was thinking to himself, " I hope I don't get someone who's going to yap all night about the difference in tone between rosewood and maple." :p

Just then, the conductor escorted Earl's new traveling companion into his compartment. His companion entered with her back to him, the conductor helping her place her luggage in the overhead rack.

She then turned around.

Earl felt his face and body go into a torpor. He could not move or even open his eyes wide in disbelief as the most beautiful face he had ever seen now sat down opposite him.

She was a little taller than average, with an hourglass figure.
She was wearing a Victorian-era dress complete with a high lace collar, which only accentuated her beautiful face all the more. And what a face it was.

Large, green, almond-shaped eyes separated by the most perfect nose he'd ever seen. Olive skin, with long, slightly wavy hair the color of pitch.

More beautiful than Helen of Troy.

He knew she had noticed his reaction to her beauty, because she said nothing, and did not look at him for the next half hour as the train slipped through the night.

He tried as much as possible not to stare at her, but it was difficult, and he knew that she she knew he was constantly looking at her.

She then looked directly at him, and said, "Can you watch my bags for a moment, please? I have to go...
 
#76
"I'm sorry for staring at you before, but..." the green-eyed woman interrupted Earl's apology by saying, "It's not necessary."

"Where are you from," asked Earl.

"Samarkand," replied the woman.

"You're from Uzbekistan?" asked Earl.

"Yes," replied the woman. "My mother is an Uzbek, and my father was from Ireland or England or Germany; one of those countries. He abandoned us when I was very young."

"I'm sorry, I..." Again the woman interrupted Earl with the same, "It's not necessary."

Now, they were no longer strangers...
 
#77
After a short time, she looked up, straight into Earl's eyes and said, 'I need to tell you something. Something important. You don't know me, and I'm not sure that I know you, but you must listen, you must pay attention to what I say.'

Earl attempted to respond but, after a few moments of stuttering, decided that it would be better to shut his mouth.

She continued, 'What I'm about to say may change the course of your life, it may change the way you look at things for ever. It certainly did for me.'

Her perfect eyes seemed to be burning into Earl's soul. Now that he had an excuse to openly look at her, he realised that she really was incredibly beautiful; almost inhumanly so. The curve of her jawline, the spacing of her eyes, the way her fingers rested on the table all whispered that she was not of this earth.

Earl realised that he had zoned out. She continued,

'...was such a revelation that I've never really seen things in the same light, and now I feel that I need to share it. Share it with you.'

There was a moment of suspense. Earl was unsure of how he should recieve this piece of information, this news, this epiphany. She continued to stare deep into his eyes, seering away at his already charred soul. Earl sensed that the moment had arrived. She sat up slightly, looked away for a moment, and turned back with a look more intense than Earl had previously thought possible. She broke the silence between them with a new voice; deeper but still femenine, stronger, but still controlled;

'stop posting in threads you haven't read all the way through.'
 
#80
but quickly stopped again when he realised what a fool he'd just made of himself. 'Your band SUCKS!' Yelled a drunk from one corner of the carriage. Jon hung his head in shame. Unable to escape the train, he found the most secluded seat he could, and sat down quietly to think about what he'd done.

Two seats over in the same car, Earl was still sitting opposite the mysterious lady. He
 

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