Pillsbury + 1 year:

[Hansontoons]

OI! HANSONTOONS! Get that jacket off, hang it in the closet and get to WORK! Got things to do and places to be - get to it!

RIGHT, SAH!!!!

Just after I finish this beer...

[Dave]

again, why relocate the HQ into a hydraulic ram?

Plenty of pressurized and/or gravity-fed cooling water that way, to help moderate Glytch's experiments. If he were a Furry, his name would be Roger and his natal element would be thorium.

[Sgt. Howard]

again, why relocate the HQ into a hydraulic ram?

Plenty of pressurized and/or gravity-fed cooling water that way, to help moderate Glytch's experiments. If he were a Furry, his name would be Roger and his natal element would be thorium.

And I would be a large white bruin with a BIG hammer...

[FreeFlier]

again, why relocate the HQ into a hydraulic ram?

Plenty of pressurized and/or gravity-fed cooling water that way, to help moderate Glytch's experiments. If he were a Furry, his name would be Roger and his natal element would be thorium.

And I would be a large white bruin with a BIG hammer...

Mad scientist airsmith bears . . . and the paintball at the end of the universe.

. . . a hydraulic ram?

. . . Now I have a vision of a Robosheep . . . with the curly horns . . .

--FreeFlier

[Sgt. Howard]

Al-study the schematic of the chambers of the great pyramid- feed line, air compression chambers, waste line and spigot line. There's even the point for the flopper valve- and there was one there at one time.

Do you want an office in such a thing?

[GlytchMeister]

...I'm confused. How is the great pyramid a... Hydraulic ram? And what is a hydraulic ram? And what... What's the point of putting a hydraulic ram in the middle of a desert? It seems a bit too far from the Nile to have any water to work with.

In short... Wtf?

[Sgt. Howard]

...I'm confused. How is the great pyramid a... Hydraulic ram? And what is a hydraulic ram? And what... What's the point of putting a hydraulic ram in the middle of a desert? It seems a bit too far from the Nile to have any water to work with.

In short... Wtf?

It is a means of pumping water uphill that uses the flow of a river (the Nile) to accomplish this task- water is slammed into a sealed reservoir with an airspace (ullage) which then propels the water through a flop gate. The interior of the pyramid is set up to do this- it is milled out of granite and rather airtight... supposedly by a people who only had copper to work with. The great pyramids were made by a civilization prior to what we know as 'ancient Egypt' and used to irrigate the plains around the Nile.

[Just Old Al]

Al-study the schematic of the chambers of the great pyramid- feed line, air compression chambers, waste line and spigot line. There's even the point for the flopper valve- and there was one there at one time.

Do you want an office in such a thing?

Don't look at ME - not MY idea...talk to the punster who's about to deal with an annoyed Brit engineer...

Rer: Hydraulic ram - interesting thought.

[jwhouk]

Building #2 works because of the "hide in plain sight" principle.

[Just Old Al]

Building #2 works because of the "hide in plain sight" principle.

Until the old git got stupid and put up that flag - which will be decorating the interior wall of RE as a wall hanging. A MUCH smaller one has been ordered.

One nosy reporter is six too many.

[DinkyInky]

"You must be Annie. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Sterling. The girls have told me so much about you, I just had to kidnap you too." She said, smiling, unsure if she was the hug or handshake type, so she held out the robe instead.

"Hello Sterling- I want to ask what inspired this, but that might involve explanations that would delay pampering. Oh! I see the two ... characters... here that saw fit to smooch my husband," she attempted to sound a little stern, "... well, I can't fault your tastes- but he IS mine, remember."

"Oh, now - they were never any threat," Daisy chimed in as Monica and Jet blushed, "besides, it probably does that fellow good to puff up his ego on occasion."

"Not hardly- he has enough ego as is. And with him I don't worry much- not in his nature to stray. Well girls- what's on the agenda?"

"Here is your robe, and a pamphlet with everything you can get listed. When you're ready, we'll go down and begin complete and utter relaxation.

I have reserved massage therapists, wraps, facials, mani/pedis with paraffin treatments, hair stylists, makeup artists...the works.

Pick one, or pick them all. Get as spoiled as you want. The name of the game is to not worry.

Afterwards, I have French Champagne, and French raspberry liqueur to spike it with to complete your day. The Crystal flute you get to take home is adorned with pink camouflage ribbon charms on a sterling silver bracelet that can stay on the glass, or be worn...Cinnamon said you ladies would understand the joke, so there you go.

Welcome to Club 'Spoiled Rotten'."

"So... what are we waiting for?" Annie asked.

"I was told you are all familiar with magic, so this reveal won't be shocking. I'm a mage.
Being that Jet and I are "paparazzi bait"...er, well-known public figures, I tend to cast spells to obscure us from prying eyes when we hang out.

With your permission, I'm going to cast a spell to hide you from prying eyes. The spa folk, and people not trying to take supermarket funny papers sleaze shots will be able to see this troupe of women determined to have fun, but the paparazzi won't.

Drawing energy into her, she murmured the incantation, then spread her arms wide, as though she was going to gather them into a hug. Each person felt a fluttering of warmth briefly envelop them.

"So that's what you did when we were having lunch, though you didn't do the hand gestures." said Jet, realisation dawning.

"Yeah. Silent ones just need belief, and since you believed, it stuck. No need to hide it here, all are either familiar with it, or use it themselves. One minute, then we can go."

Sterling quickly performed a short form exercise, grounded and centered herself, returning the unused energies to the ether, and balance to herself.

"Okay. Time to get our glam on."

They all got on the elevator, selecting the spas floor, then walked in. An attractive lady with honey brown hair and lavender highlights greeted them.

"Welcome to LifeSpa. How may I help you?"

Sterling handed the lady at the desk her Visa card with custom image on it stating, "Sterling Damhnait and her party of six. Spoil them rotten. Anything they want. Sound good?"

She got close whispering: "Even if your gals aren't needed, I'll pay them a generous gratuity for standing by."

"Very good. Follow me ladies."

Lots of giggles, grins, and bounciness followed, while they were shown around, until they broke up into groups to begin getting pampered.

[Just Old Al]

All was noise, movement and chaos – and that’s the way Al liked it.

Superficially there seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the almost-Brownian motion of the people and objects – but a few minutes observation showed the truth of the matter. A stream of boxes was flowing from old to new, along with deliveries of materials straight to the new house.

The foot traffic was beginning to diminish, Al observed, so the unpacking and arranging already begun would increase. Time it seemed to stir about and see what trouble he could cause…er help resolve.

The kitchen was the first team to experience his presence – though the impact to productivity was minimal. Rosalita, presciently, had made her first task to prime and set in motion the industrial Bunn coffeemaker Al had provisioned in the budget. With cream, sugar and paper cups provided anyone looking for a short break or a beverage to take along was well served.

Armed with a cup and a biscuit, Al consulted with Rosalita – and was pleased with the progress he saw. Pot and pan rack up and equipped, appliances arrayed, contents of box after box jumped out of their containers and were arrayed on the shelves and in closets.

What perishables were coming over from the old house had come over and gone on the shelves, and cold trays were going together for those who hadn’t already gone out for burgers or the like.

“I love efficiency, lass – and yours is as always stunning.” Al rumbled, truly impressed at the progress.

“Don’t let it fool you – we have a long way to go.” Rosalita warned. “It looks good, but the details aren’t there yet. God willing you might have dinner here, but I’m still not promising.” Al was amused to no end that her accent, usually evident when she was having him on, was completely absent when discussing technical details in her domain.

Suitably fortified, Al wandered back to the old house to check on the status of the move into the tower. From the sounds he heard as he entered, things were not going quite as well.

“No, SCRATCHING THE FLOORS IS NOT ACCEPTABLE. USE THE DOLLIES DON’T DRAG IT! Oh, hello, sir. Can I help you?”

Al sighed. Old habits simply would not die, it seemed. “No, but I can help you. I take it some of the folks aren’t paying attention when it comes to how to move things?”

“Yes, sir. Speed is being taken as a primary concern, much to the detriment of the flawless finish of the rooms’ floors. I have tried…”

“All RIGHTY then..”

“OI, YOU LOT! OUT HERE, NOW!” The patented stunning call worked its magic, and the movers all trickled out.

“These floors are FLAWLESS. I have no difficulty repairing accidental damage, but SLOPPINESS is NOT acceptable. Use the furniture dollies, use the sliding carpets, PICK THINGS UP AND MOVE THEM – ANYONE I catch dragging things is going to be very unhappy they did.

Any questions?”

Turned out that some of the press-gang had no idea how to use the moving equipment, so after a few quick tutorials on the use of dollies, hand trucks and a moving rug (plush carpet with pile side down – slides like a dream on hardwood with no damage) the moving began again – much more smoothly.

“Edward, make very sure the crates of Rock’s photo albums and cameras are kept out – Buck is going to want those, and we’d piled them in before.”

“Yes, Al. Very good, sir”

Al stopped, stunned. It was like the rocks had begun to talk, or the first time he saw a centaur.

“Very good, Edward. Thank you.”

“Very good, sir. “ Edward replied with the faintest hint of a smile.

Problem solved, Al went off in search of further logistical dragons to slay…and perhaps another biscuit or two

[DinkyInky]

AN: Forgot my credits to Al and Sarge for dialogue clean-ups...

Gathered together, Sterling gave a spa-day 'pep talk'.

"Since I don't know if there are rookies here, I'll lay out some suggestions, and make an arse out of myself.

I recommend wrap, facials first, waxing if you're in need. Hair cut, colour if you want, then massage. Hairstyling, makeup, then mani/pedi."

“This all sounds WONDERFUL to me – but why the makeup? Not that I’m complaining – I know what Greg’s reaction is going to be (“and so do we”, stage-whispered Monica to the snickers of the other women) but I don’t get it.”

"You're here for day of hedonistic relational exercises...er, glamourous pampering, like Hollywood's A-list. Afterward, go give your beloved a smooch all glammed up, complete with a bold, red lip. He'll be putty in your hands, completely under your spell." Sterling grinned, and winked at Annie for the last part, causing her and Cinnamon to giggle.

Jet’s look changed very subtly, assuming a barely sly, almost wicked look. Monica, never one to miss a cue where her squeeze was involved, noted it.

"Jet, whatcha plotting? I know that look." Monica queried.

"Nothing really bad.” Monica snickered but held her silence. Like her appetite and her lust for life in general, Jet’s idea of “bad” could have some interesting interpretations.

“Al and Sarge both have had...issues with green eyed wifeys because of me, so I'm plotting another "apology" by making presents out of their wives by wrapping them up in pretties.
Katherine is getting spoiled as a thank you to Buck for helping Sterling so very fast.
I'm really not at all sorry about anything that's about to happen." That grin getting even more wicked.

"I have thousands of dollars in credit at VS and a few other stores. I think it's about time to spend some.

Daisy and Annie will get the most expensive Angel lingerie set I can get...probably in red hot red.”

“Oh, not going to go with black silk so she’ll match Al’s crash-test dummy?” Monica snarked, causing Jet to blush a fetching shade of crimson.

“Noooo…that would get me killed once Al stopped laughing in nervousness.”

“To continue, Kathy will get an ultimate sparkly Angel set, and Cinnamon, just a simple flirty rhinestone Angel set, and Sterling, a practical Angel, little sparkle and lots of lace, just so nobody suspects a thing.

You and I will get lacy, sparkly, but more sedate, because Little Miss 'my rack snacks on expensive bras', we both know it won't last long.
Top it off with them all getting simple LBD, except for Sterling, who will never wear one, Black sparkly clutches, black wedge wrap sandals to show off the pedi's."

"Damn, babe. You've been plotting. I love it. How are you...wait, how did you sneak that...oh, right."

Jet scrolled down and started calling in numbers...and favours. That nobody other than Sterling knew she snuck her phone into the spa was a credit to well, Sterling.

"Christine. Hi, it's me. I'm calling in favours...but everyone in your location is going to make a killing on commissions.

Pull up the 'Gilchrist(Alexander)' file, and Cindy Alexander, and Sterling Damnhait for sizes to bring. All Angels, from simple to sparkly.

Also need you, yes you. You're never wrong, so I need you to sight measure for two others, larger busts. All the larger busts are going to be the most expensive glittering Angels...bras, corsets, panties, fishnets, sheer, and in the most salacious red you have. I have a third, but she's...well, she's so far out of VS range, so call Dottie over at C.K.'s lingerie dept. Tell her 'Miss M' needs some pretties.

Call up Iris next. I'll need LBD wrap dresses for six, and the black palazzo set in Sterling's size. Tell Squeak...yes, I know her name is Jerica. Tell Squeak I need comfortable wrap sandals, scratch that, make them Christian Louboutin espadrilles, yeah, gauzy, silky wrap up the leg kinds. Black. Bring small to large size ranges, including wides. Oooh, and seven identical Black clutches, lotsa bling.

What's it all for? A spa day, we're having a girly girly spa day..."

While the sneaky conversation was going on in the background, Sterling was captivating her audience at the front.

"...paraffin wax treatments on hands and feet for extra pampering. We're getting 'the Minx' package mani/pedi.

A classic French manicure...with a twist. Chantilly lace overlay on the French pink in pearl dust, glassy topcoat. "C.A." stenciled in diamond pearl white and Sapphire blue, with a tiny diamond and sapphire set in on pinkies and pinky toes...designs and colours were picked out by Daisy."

“I think everyone here knows the colours, but not sure that our kind host...” Sterling took a small bow at this point “...realizes it.”

“These are the colours of Alexander Harvesters – I’m sure you know the family connection.

But there’s another connection – and all of us here but you are tied to it. A year or so ago we went head-to-head as a group against a gang of lowlife scum that wanted us all dead. I’m sure the dorks told you about the Battle of Pillsbury--“

“I heard. That is why we are working the project we are – this is Jet’s reaction to it.” Sterling wondered why she was bringing this up now.

“The group that fought them was called “Club Alexander” – that’s what we called ourselves. We survived – and it’s a common connection with us, now – and all of us would be there for each other again if need be. I think a few of us still remember how to use a Lee-Enfield, or a Mosin-Nagant.”

“You’re the same kind of person – the same type of tiger stripe to the soul. I don’t think we need to ask the muggers – or the Minneapolis police – to vote on it.” A chorus of chuckles from those who knew the story, and a puzzled look from Annie coupled with an “I’ll explain in a minute” from Katherine answered the sally.

“I think we need you as one of us. All in favor?”

“AYE!” came a chorus from a half-dozen throats.

“Well, damn. I’m in.” Sterling was tearing up a bit – there was a lot more to this than she was seeing at the surface. There was a lot of emotion floating in the air - not all of it happy – and this meant a lot to these people, and was not a trivial spur-of-the-moment decision.

“Hell, I’ll happily wear the badge…and the commitment.” Daisy smiled – Sterling got it.

“ALL RIGHT – Enough of this serious stuff – let’s get to some PAMPERING!” A chorus of whoops answered this, as they filed off to begin the process, with all but Sterling heading in to get a warm paraffin wrap.

********************************

Sitting in the salon chair, Sterling got the royal deep cleanse and scalp massage, deep condition, and trim. She reserved the stylist to style her hair after she saw how it reacted to all the steam and other treatments today.

She opted for the shorter session wrap so she could keep up with the rest of the group, as this was more for them.

"What kept you?" a few voices queried in unison.

"Sterling's hair gets pood-ley if she doesn't set it up right", teased Jet.

"You're one to talk, 'Duchess'," she teased right back, givng as good as she got.

"Yanno, I bet Al and the boys would pay dearly to see you guys wrestle in a vat of wax..." teased Monica, looking pointedly at Jet's robe.

Blushing furiously, they got quiet, making the rest wonder what was so interesting about the pile of robes.

"Ooohhhh..this wrap is wonderful. I can see why you wouldn't want to drink, though...it does...raise the body temperature." Annie admitted, while luxuriating in the paraffin wrap. "Greg would never understand this - and I'm not going to try and explain it to him."

"What WOULD the boys do for a spa day, anyway?" Daisy uttered the question, at which point the room erupted in laughter at the thought of Al, Greg and Buck padding around in flip-flops and robes and getting manicures.

"They do it all the time - it's called drool over machine-shop catalogues and gun manuals - then go to the range and run through a couple hundred rounds of ammo." There was a chorus of "You GO, Gurl!"s and "a "Go, Momma!" from the assemblage.

"Now, if you could combine the two that would SELL! Picture Greg getting a mani-pedi while discussing combat techniques with an ex-marine drill instructor..." The room erupted in laughter at the thought of Greg, in a fluffy camo robe, getting his nails done and arguing knife fighting at the same time.

"Nah, it would never work with Al. He's never comfortable unless his hands are busy..." and she stopped in horror at the set of catcalls she got from the other women.

"Oh, DO tell...busy hands, eh? And what would they be busy AT, luv?" Sterling said, a wicked grin on her face that went unseen under the masque. The laughter and occasionally ribald commentary echoed around the room.

********************************

Facials are an indulgent, sinful treat, and everone there made the most of it, with mild exfoliation, steam pore treatments, seaweed and clay masques, paraffin treatment, then the cooling massage. Nobody spoke as they were fighting the urge to sleep. Pure bliss.

********************************

Waxing was amusing, especially the ribald commentary on whether or not they were getting a "Brazilian"...

"Okay, so who's going to admit to...what, here? This is grounds maintenance for people."

"Yes, it is. Never a bad thing - clean and smooth looks so much nicer against a healthy skin glow. You are going to come out of here looking like a GODDESS - and you will have Greg worshiping at your feet once he gets a load of you."

Daisy was more uncertain. "I've never had a waxing before - you know why. Never felt the need of it."

Sterling was quick to reassure her. "This will leave you with glowing, clean skin no stubbgle or any silliness. They can even tidy up...everywhere."

Daisy looked puzzled, then blushed as only a redhead can. "Everywhere? Oh my word..."

Once they went in though, it was quiet...ish.

The younger women took the waxing stoically - they were used to the process and repeated waxings had made the process nearly painless. Daisy, however, didn't think much of it.

"Ow. OW! This hurts!"

"Price of beauty, luv."

"Oh, Momma, stop being a wimp! Oh, wait, I forgot, you ARE a wimp..." Cinnamon laughed - obviously enjoying a little role reversal.

********************************

Once the waxing was finished, the time for hair and makeup was nigh. Each obediently trooped to a salon chair, and consulted with a stylist. Not to neglect a single thing, Sterling had booked the top hair stylists, of which she had already gotten her wash and trim...

Jet and Monica went to get split ends trimmed off, and royal cleanse, deep condition and scalp massages, and convinced Daisy and the rest to treat themselves to a regal wash and trim to refresh and pamper their tired tresses.

Daisy then opted for a slight colour rinse to emphasize her red tones, and a quick trim to perfect her style. Annie did the same, a rinse adding red highlights to her perfect hair.

********************************

Jet alerted Christine with a quick sneaky call before going into the massage.

"Christine, mani/pedi in about ninety minutes, so yeah. LifeSpa at the Grand. Yeah, we're even, though you guys are gonna make out like fat cats on this. I've already been assured that even if I spend my credits, you guys still earn the same commission. It was the only reason I took the offer of credit. See ya then! Kiss kiss!"

Sterling decided since jet had a grand sneaky plan, she would add to it, and summoned her phone whispering, "Flashburn".

"Watcha want?"

"Heya, get over to the Grand for a quick buck. Private singles and a group portrait...this one is personal. I'll pay double plus if you sign an NDA. Group size is seven. Love ya cuz'."

"Just help me find me someone who can fix my 'birds T-top from leaking..."

"If ye shut up and hurry up, not only will I introduce you, I'll bloody pay for it."

"On my way cuz."

********************************

They all went in and had the recovery and relaxation massage, feeling boneless and sort of floating afterward.

Ninety minutes of having every sore, overworked muscle 'beaten'...massaged into submission will do that, along with the soothing lavender, teatree and mint oils used, realigned the body into its most relaxed, comfortable position.

Styling went pretty quickly, as their hair had been primed before the massage.

********************************

Onto the makeup session...

Sterling went for the simple powdered foundation, and her go-to NARS Red Lizard...just to blend in. She wasn't trying to impress anyone.

Monica and Jet went runway neutral on everything but the red lip.

The two older women and Katherine threw themselves into the hands of the makeup artists with instructions to “Make me glamorous”. This meant subtle but complete makeup jobs – Dramatic changes, but nothing that could be pointed to as makeup. Cinnamon went full tribal - bold strokes of colour in the most modern style. With her looks it was a natural.

The only exception to subtle was the bold red lip.

[DinkyInky]

AN: More credits to Al...sorry!

********************************

Sterling announced, "And now for the mani/pedi's. Time to unleash your inner minx. Now Cinnamon tells me you're an expert at that Daisy. Care to share?"

Daisy blushed furiously, glowering at her daughter, while Cinnamon just giggled and grinned.

“She’s reminding me that I should have stopped at two sons – having a daughter was a BIG mistake..”

Cinnamon mock-pouted and whined.

“You never loved me….” while the other women laughed at the interaction.

“My darling soon-to-be-disinherited daughter is laughing at something from the battle days – all of us were fitted with what we ended up calling 'Elven Kevlar' – scale lamellar armor within fabric bodices.”

“THAT is why you twitched!" Sterling said to Monica. “You’ve seen scale armor like the stuff my friend made. AHA! Your reaction was bothering me – makes sense now.”

“Yes – I have a bodice just like that – damn happy to have it, too!’

Daisy continued after the exchange.

“Yes, all of us were happy to have them."

My daughter said, “'Why Mom, you MINX!' when she first saw me in mine – which is why I am SURE she felt the need to tell you about it.”

“But Momma….” she whined, making the ladies laugh again.

********************************

"So have you decided on a design for your Minx mani's and Pedi's?" asked their lovely 'tour guide', which had everyone double over laughing ahain, until they were warned not to ruin their makeup.

"Here it is. The basic part is a traditional French manicure, but we want the micro Chantilly Lace overlay on the pink. Same with the pedicure. On the pinkies and pinky toes, this is what is desired."

Sterling handed her a paper with an elegant calligraphic print of "C.A." with a notation that they were to be sapphire blue and diamond pearl white, and the dots were to be a diamond and a sapphire.

"This is lovely, and just the sort of challenge we like. Step this way and be seated.
Much like the special paraffin body wrap Miss Damnhait requested we give you, it helps to lock in moisture to leave you glowingly refreshed and hydrated. As before, during your other treatments, ice water bottles on request, to hydrate you inside and out.
This treatment targets the most abused parts of the body--your hands and feet.
Then we will be doing the manicures and pedicures, and while they dry, you'll be given over to the secret final step from Miss Sundahl's team of experts."

This caused everyone to turn and stare at Jet, who shrugged and gave an enigmatic smile.

Each one sat ladylike...until the tickle of the warm paraffin on the ankles sent both Monica and Cinnamon into gigglefits, and then it snowballed to the rest of the group.
Laughter really was the best medicine, as all the cares and stress were gone, and only contented sighs and smiles were seen.

Massaged hands and feet, cuticles pushed back, trimmed and slathered in moisturisers, they moved onto the next step.

******************************

Feet stuck in those funny little sponges, the nail artists went to work, making exquisite French pedicures with the tiniest Chantilly lace wrapped over the pink, then a shiny topcoat making it look like it was under glass.
After that, the pinky toes got the special lettering and gemstones, which were embedded in the glassy topcoat.

"Worth it at double the price," thought Sterling, happy she could do this for others. "It's more fun in large groups. The conversations can be...rather ribald, risque, or sweet. They will learn more about each other this way...I'll just sneaky start it..."

"So, how are you all feeling? I don't know about you, but this reminds me of weekends at Jet and Jill's, eating pizza, watching silly movies, painting our nails, putting our hair up in rollers..."

"...you were almost like Snow White, such long dark hair...we must have used fifty rollers on it... then the talking about our current crushes..." Jet said dreamily.

"Wait, so you dye your hair?" asked Cinnamon while her nails were buffed then pinked.

"Nope. Right around the time..." Sterling began, hoping Jet was ready.

Jet continued, remembering everything as a wistful happiness flooded her. "...my parents died. Neither me, nor my sister, nor Sterling, can remember what happened, but her hair just turned snowy white."

"Monica really is so good for me," Jet thought, smiling at her.

"It doesn't take a dye either," Sterling prattled on, sharing the painful memories of losing people so close, they were like family. She often wondered if it wasn't the grief that caused it, but as she had accepted all of it, her hair never regained it's colour.

Whispering, she said, "If I ever decide to go in disguise, it has to be a synthetic wig, or synthetic extensions, or it turns white."

"Wow."

"So ever since then, seeing friends stressed out or unhappy drives me bonkers, and since you were all friends of Jet's, it made you mine by association...hence my kidnapping you for a spa day."

"Hooray for spa day!" echoed six voices in unison.

The conversation continued onto each member, sharing bits of their lives as they all got their manicures, strengthening the bonds of friendship and sisterhood that began in the unlikeliest of places.

[Just Old Al]

Third – or was it fourth – round of biscuits and coffee later Al was pleased.

The tower was nearly complete, at least for the initial stages. Most of the furniture was back in place, and the work of mounting wall hangings and arranging countless pieces of family memorabilia was well in hand. There had been some mishaps and a few minor problems, but in the main under Edward’s firm hand the move had gone far better than expected.

With the large pieces in place, the work of filling the storage spaces, bookshelves and other places was spinning up. A detailed set of photographs made this easier, along with the picture hanging and furniture placement. Edward wandered the rooms with a tablet loaded with the total photo-essay, and correlated the contents of boxes to the shelves and mantels they were supposed to be on. Where necessary the pictures were transferred to a phone or other wireless device so Edward could move on.

All of the move was like this – Edward and the press-gang under him were as tireless as army ants – and far more productive. Other than the initial issue with experience with the moving equipment Al had had nothing to do in the tower refit – and was completely comfortable and frankly thrilled with it.

The kitchen and support spaces had been the smoothest of the lot. Rosalita with Daisy’s active support had been instrumental in designing the “below-stairs” part of New Alexander House, and her work had been flawless. Al had realized early on that the Senorita was Daisy’s strong right hand as Edward was her majordomo – and that the three of them had laid this out with exacting detail. If Daisy had let people do what they knew how to do it would have gone more smoothly- but hindsight was always 20/20.

With Daisy getting pampered and Rosalita having a free hand things went like clockwork. The kitchen was a living, breathing, functional food preparation space for the first time - and a better organized, logically designed such space would be found nowhere. The shelves, larders and spaces were all arranged, and Rosalita had kicked into preparing the first meal in Alexander House - with great pride and infinite satisfaction. GLytcxh was still there, enjoying the ambiance and generally relaxing - a well-deserved rest after the hard work he'd put in.

Al made a personal note to give Rosalita a bonus for her work - she and Edward both deserved time off and a place to go for it.

In the whole move, there was only one problem…

[GlytchMeister]

Oh, you just HAD to cut off RIGHT THERE. Of course.

*tapping foot impatiently*

[Just Old Al]

AN: And this surprises you? Suspense is part of the package. All part of the Richer Engineering service.

Al’s phone rang early on in the move – Greg was attempting to get his attention.

He pulled it out of his pocket, thumbed the call on and asked “What’s up, mate?”

“Don’t MATE me, you miserable useless excuse for an organizer. I wouldn’t let you organize the movement of a rubber duck across a BATHTUB, never mind a move of this magnitude.”

Al was momentarily dumbstruck. Greg was ANNOYED. He’d better figure this out before the collateral damage began to mount.

“Where are you and what’s wrong?”

“What’s WRONG? WHAT’S WRONG? I’ll tell you what’s wrong you moron – I can’t read your damn notes – and what I CAN make out makes NO damn sense. I can’t tell if you’ve given me an organizational map for the London Underground or a move map for this house – there are no REFERENCES!”

Oh, bugger. Bugger, bugger, bugger, bugger….he’s right. He is sooooo bloody right. Living this one down was going to be a long time happening.

Al immediately realized the problem – he had written those notes for himself – and he’d been on the site from the day the construction gear had broken ground for the foundation. Greg had never even seen New Alexander before today, never mind seen the construction blueprints he’d lived with nearly every day.

“Where are you?”

The tirade started again, mostly revolving around Al’s ancestry, probable place on the food chain alongside the cockroaches, number of functioning brain cells and suitability as a mate for perhaps a Denebian slime devil rather than the dam he was married to, along with a sincere wish that said dam would allow him to be shot as an example to the others.

Ignoring the invective Al moved the phone away from his ear and moved from the kitchen into the main hall. His now-sharp hearing soon picked out the echoes of the tirade coming from the right wing somewhere on the second floor. Al sprinted up the stairs and down the hall, his ears letting him home in on the bellowing that also echoed from his phone.

“All right, ALL RIGHT, I hear you. Shut the hell up and we can fix this.”

Greg glared at him, surrounded by most of the Alexander move team. The move had continued smoothly until the crew had finished the tasks they were embarked upon, then the coordination was lost.

“Al, what the hell do you expect me to do with this!” Al was tempted to tell him, but rolling it up and shoving it where the sun didn’t shine would no doubt slow progress further.

“I can barely read this! Where did you learn penmanship – from a CHICKEN? You couldn’t for heaven’s sake TYPE this mess – noooo, Mr. Old School has to handwrite things. I was tempted to call in an Egyptologist to decipher it-“

“SHUT THE HELL UP YOU MISERABLE REDNECK!” Having retired as a WO1 and gotten there by working his way through the ranks Al knew what a command voice was – and how to shatter glass with it if necessary. The hapless Greg caught the full blast of it – which momentarily rendered him speechless.

However, only momentarily.

That was all Al needed.

“Greg, my sincere apologies. I never considered the audience when I wrote those – I never expected to hand this to anyone else and I made a mistake. Please forgive me.”

Greg blinked, all momentum lost. “No problem. What the hell do we do from here? You need to be elsewhere, and I can’t work with this mess.”

Al thought furiously. Selecting one of the move crew, he said tersely, “Construction shack. Painter’s tape. Sharpie NOW.” The man left rapidly, having experienced the periphery of Al’s command bellow.

Al pulled an overview floor plan out of his notes, studied it, and using his Cross pen began to write numbers on it. “OK, here we go. I’m going to assign numbers to the rooms – 100 series – ground floor. 200 series – second floor. Third level at the atrium has little connected to it that the move will effect, so I won’t bother numbering it.

He dug though his notes again – pulling out the correlations between the rooms being occupied and their corresponding rooms in the old house. Consulting his notes, the annotated plans and the room lists he built a quick chart detailing the old and new rooms and what went where.

Within two minutes the man was back, and after assigning the crew rooms to be working on Al and Greg left on a whirlwind tour of the house. Slapping painter’s tape on each door each was adorned with its number from the plans – a solid record for the crew to work with.

“So, you have a plan. The old to new correlation chart tells you what goes where, and the numbers on the doors tells you the actual rooms without having to do dumb show in the air. Think this will work?”

Perfect. This I can work with. Al, I’m sorry about…”

“Sorry for what? You were absolutely right – an Egyptologist might have been your only hope to decipher that mess. I’m only sorry I didn’t realize it. You get one swift kick at my arse for it – AFTER we get this mess done.”

With that, Al headed off to deal with the next crisis – and hoped it would be less stressful.

[lake_wrangler]

Squealing with delight, Annie scampered off to the bedroom leaving the towel at Greg's feet- he watched her naked 200+ pounds with a pride and admiration that he found so natural for this woman.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but inasmuch as admiration is, well, admirable, I thought it was customary to never divulge that kind of information about someone of the female persuasion...

[Just Old Al]

Squealing with delight, Annie scampered off to the bedroom leaving the towel at Greg's feet- he watched her naked 200+ pounds with a pride and admiration that he found so natural for this woman.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but inasmuch as admiration is, well, admirable, I thought it was customary to never divulge that kind of information about someone of the female persuasion...

Depends on how comfortable said individual is in their own skin. If you're talking your usual neurotic, celery-stick-nibbling heroin chic fruitcake of either gender perhaps not. Real people don't care - or at least the ones I know don't.

I think it was Monica herself who said she was "4 foot 11" and 102 pounds soaking wet" and with a 28J rack. Not figures the insecure would reveal.

[Sgt. Howard]

Squealing with delight, Annie scampered off to the bedroom leaving the towel at Greg's feet- he watched her naked 200+ pounds with a pride and admiration that he found so natural for this woman.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but inasmuch as admiration is, well, admirable, I thought it was customary to never divulge that kind of information about someone of the female persuasion...

Depends on how comfortable said individual is in their own skin. If you're talking your usual neurotic, celery-stick-nibbling heroin chic fruitcake of either gender perhaps not. Real people don't care - or at least the ones I know don't.

I think it was Monica herself who said she was "4 foot 11" and 102 pounds soaking wet" and with a 28J rack. Not figures the insecure would reveal.

Miss Annie is a big woman- her hands are bigger than mine, which allows her the privilege of handling a .44 magnum that bruises my middle finger and cuts the palm of the off hand. She is part sasquatch. She makes it look good, and she knows it. Men look at her wherever we go. She is very comfortable with it and I am very proud to have her on my arm- she is shorter than I by a margin, and heavier by the same... when we dance together at Walmart because we like the music being played, people smile... occasionally, others join in.

It's not what you wear as much as how you wear it that makes the difference.