Doing it right...

[TazManiac]

I don't know yet...
(I'm currently watching 'Bound', which is on pause while the other guy in the room hits the head. I think the film may inform her character a bit...)

Consider, I was looking for Sucker Punch...

[Dave]

Who the blathering frogwarts is this?

Dunno, but she almost certainly has to be paranormal. Blathering frogwart was declared extinct some years ago, after the last patch known to mortals was illegally harvested and shipped overseas. I think somebody thought it could be mixed with powdered rhino horn to make an aphrodisiac

[FreeFlier]

/noselick/ There is more . . . about two flakken reftwards. But only for those who walk the way of the wolf.

/sigh/ She's being inscrutable again.

Still.

--FreeFlier

[TazManiac]

As the line had wound down, Stan glanced behind him and saw there weren't any more patrons waiting to order so he took the chance to indulge in a French Press w/ Sumatran beans.

"Um, excuse me, but is Becky working today? Stanley asked as he strolled casually by the pastry display.

He was getting better at ignoring his hunger pangs. True be told they were actually diminishing, but he'd come to find out about Chocolate Éclairs and this was no time to back out...

[TazManiac]

"Are you the guy she held the Tanzanian Peaberrys for?, I have them right here..."

Stan was shaking his head No when he noticed the young barista's face more closely; she had slightly tilted eyes and one was a clear water blue, the other was a very light green in colour...

[TazManiac]

"Your eyes..." Stan muttered.

Behind the counter the young lady grimaced and squoze her eyes shut.
"Go ahead, get it out of your system..."

"No, it's just that, damn- you must get this all the time. Look, I am sorry, but they are striking and..."
"I'm doing it again, aren't I?"

"It's OK, at least you're talking to me. Its the ones who just stare or worse, start trying to 'Save Me' that really creep me out.
"Hey, wait one..."
and she half-skipped over the French Press on the back counter, pouring the resulting liquid, with emphasis, into a to-go cup without checking first, and whipped back around to present her results, asking
"Can I get you anything else with that?"

Stan- who was teetering between befuddled and bemused, hadn't yet given up on éclairs, but found himself replying "No, that's OK... Thank you." nonetheless.

Turning to go, he paused in midstride to ask one parting question-

"Excuse me, but do you Bake?"

[TazManiac]

Driving through traffic, Stan reflected back on the delightful conversation he'd just been through, it was fun remembering little tricks to make a great puff pastry and real cream filling and the debate between round vs rectangular. He hadn't worked with an oven in such a long time, other than to just heat something up, and he missed it.

Now that new coffee-girl, She'd never really answered his question. Still, it seemed pretty obvious, while maybe not a professional Baker, the kid knew her way around a kitchen.

Coming to a stop at a red light, he remembered he had a few items to pick up and he flipped his Left Turn signal to blinking...

[TazManiac]

The light turned Green and Stan's 4x4 advanced out into the intersection in preparation to make a left turn.

As the last on-coming traffic cleared he gave it some gas, rotating the steering wheel and looking left- he missed the drunk driver, running the red light to his right side, that came barreling down the snowy street and bashed right into the back corner of his car...

With a terrible crunch and a sickening lurch the vehicle started to spin, spinning, spinning as it mounted the curb and crashed into a shopfront.

The older car didn't have air-bags, but Stanley made a habit of using his seatbelts every time he got in. This was one of those times the routine had payed off, as he rose up and pushed away from the steering wheel the constant blaring of the car's horn immediately faded to silence.

He hadn't even notice it working until it was conspicuous by it's absence, and there was a breif moment of calm before the bedlam came crashing back down upon him with pedestrians who'd had a chance to scambel out of the way climbing to their feet, and good samaritans checking on and ultimately restraining the s.o.b. who'd hit him, and one guy who reached in to the interior to start asking him all kinds of questions- "Hey Buddy?, are you OK?", "I saw the whole thing", and "Man!, that was crazy!, right?"

As Stan tried to take stock of the whole situation, checking himself for injury and turning off the, surprisingly, still running motor he got the distinct impression that the main thing he didn't like about this setup was the knuckelhead standing in his open car door with the non-stop jabber-jawing.

It was at this point the the new barista pushed her way through the gathering crowd and took it upon herself to evaluate his condition, asking him questions like

- Do you know where you are? and
- Do you know what today's date is?

She leaned in real close, studying both of his eye's reaction to light and whether they where tracking properly, he was trying his best not to be distracted by her amazing irises, and he found himself replying,

"Yes, it's Friday. Friday the 13th..."

[GlytchMeister]

Thank goodness he wasn't driving the Sunbeam.

...

What are you getting at, Taz? *narrows eyes suspiciously*

[DinkyInky]

It "was" Friday the 13th, and I snuggled my mostly black kitty(the neighbours all black one was having none of my friendly shenanigans, despite his siblings claiming me best friend, and the tasty treats I left them), opened umbrellas in the house, walked under two ladders, and called six people with extremely low volume of grey matter(which is prolly pickled by beer beeer beer anyway) and copious quantities of brawn, smeg-heads.

Stupidstitions aside, hopefully folks had a fun and funky Friday. I had to "Adult" all this past week amongst the most dull people(how do their funny little brains work?) and now I plan to tell the world to smeg off until Monday.

Except for you gorgeous people. You're not boring.

[Just Old Al]

It "was" Friday the 13th, and I snuggled my mostly black kitty(the neighbours all black one was having none of my friendly shenanigans, despite his siblings claiming me best friend, and the tasty treats I left them), opened umbrellas in the house, walked under two ladders, and called six people with extremely low volume of grey matter(which is prolly pickled by beer beeer beer anyway) and copious quantities of brawn, smeg-heads.

Hell, that's just good clean fun...

Had to get on a server at work and help the operations team do an upgrade for a customer (unscheduled - I love those). The build number was 666....as you can imagine I was greatly amused...

I am tempted to load some Ozzy on the thing's disk and see if I can use it to open a hellmouth.

[DinkyInky]

It "was" Friday the 13th, and I snuggled my mostly black kitty(the neighbours all black one was having none of my friendly shenanigans, despite his siblings claiming me best friend, and the tasty treats I left them), opened umbrellas in the house, walked under two ladders, and called six people with extremely low volume of grey matter(which is prolly pickled by beer beeer beer anyway) and copious quantities of brawn, smeg-heads.

Hell, that's just good clean fun...

Had to get on a server at work and help the operations team do an upgrade for a customer (unscheduled - I love those). The build number was 666....as you can imagine I was greatly amused...

I am tempted to load some Ozzy on the thing's disk and see if I can use it to open a hellmouth.

ROFLMAO

This one?

[Just Old Al]

Re: I Don't Want To Change The World" was thinking "Crazy Train" myself, but that will do nicely....very nicely.

[Sgt. Howard]

Sixteen and a half hours of orthopedic surgery yesterday with two breaks. Spent two hours plus wrangling a leg as big around as me (Arthroscopy- knee scope). Originally the Army taught me how to break bones... now I spend my Fridays putting them back together. Talk about karma...

[Dave]

Talk about karma...

Hey, its not as if you couldn't hear the warnings about that on the radio at the time...

And, in the end,
the legs you break
are equal to the bones
you bake.

("Bake" for "cook, treat, season with curative substances"... not very good at all but it was the best rhyme I could come up with at this hour on a weekend.)

[DinkyInky]

Re: I Don't Want To Change The World" was thinking "Crazy Train" myself, but that will do nicely....very nicely.

Thanks. It's part of my Sunday morning "I'm on my way to church" playlist.

Includes:

Diabolic Waltz-Taku Iwasaki
The Devil's Trill, Sonata in G minor-Giuseppe Tartini(Joshua Bell version)
Dancing Mad-Nobuo Uematsu
Nocturne-Michiru Yamane
Dancing Madly Backwards-Noriyuki Asakura

As a side note, Ozzy is the only vocalist in said playlist.

Talk about karma...

Hey, its not as if you couldn't hear the warnings about that on the radio at the time...

And, in the end,
the legs you break
are equal to the bones
you bake.

("Bake" for "cook, treat, season with curative substances"... not very good at all but it was the best rhyme I could come up with at this hour on a weekend.)

Berwyn!

Sixteen and a half hours of orthopedic surgery yesterday with two breaks. Spent two hours plus wrangling a leg as big around as me (Arthroscopy- knee scope). Originally the Army taught me how to break bones... now I spend my Fridays putting them back together. Talk about karma...

Much sympathy. My sister's surgeon decades ago had a 24 hour round to set a double open fractured femur, and reassemble a shattered kneecap on the opposite leg. She surprised him by standing upright shortly after waking out of anesthesia, and by walking again barely after the bones healed. Showed the stupid head doc why you don't talk about the patient in front of them when you think they are unconscious. I bet you're awesome...you'd get them up and at 'em as soon as they could stand.

[Sgt. Howard]

I am not the surgeon- merely a tech. I stand next to the surgeon and hand stuff to him, hold retraction, provide extra hands and tell bad jokes. When I crumped in Ranger school with a broken leg, THIS is what the Army taught me to do. I graduated in December of 1977 from Army Academy of Health Sciences and have been doing it ever since.
In the next few years, I am looking at retirement. I turn 62 next August, but there are a couple of debts I will pay off before I hang up my scrubs... if it seems reasonable, I will continue work until I am 66 once the debts are paid. Law Enforcement, Military and Mercy Providers... it takes a toll. I am ready to give it up soon and enjoy a simpler pace.
The Surgeon puts you together, the floor Nurses let you heal- I am just another part of the team.

On another note- this tale is now almost as many pages as the whole "Visit to Phix", "the Elixir" and "A Very Happy Wedding" trilogy minus the 'red wedding' portion... And I think that 'Elixir' has about four pages of adolescent pyromaniacle ramblings as well... and we haven't even started the Wedding... wow... what a tale...

[jwhouk]

Talk about karma...

Hey, its not as if you couldn't hear the warnings about that on the radio at the time...

And, in the end,
the legs you break
are equal to the bones
you bake.

("Bake" for "cook, treat, season with curative substances"... not very good at all but it was the best rhyme I could come up with at this hour on a weekend.)

Please insert one CD of Abbey Road in the Pun Vault to continue....

[jwhouk]

Thing is, Stan's about two weeks behind the rest of us with his accident thing...

[GlytchMeister]

{Credit to Al for writing and assisting}

Seeing John standing there, Neil realized that if anything he was far more dangerous than any of the paranormals here save the golems. Tall, lean, looking strikingly out of place in this scene of domesticity, he waited for someone to say something.

Neil and his sergeants had discussed this in advance. Rather than Neil’s taking point in welcoming the visitor, the three of them stood, cups in hand and came over to John and his escort, holding hands out in greeting.

Neil, as was his place, was first, welcoming the visitor. John shook hands, bemused-seeming at the custom. Greg, bonecrusher handshake and all, found his strength equaled by the wiry strength of the stranger. Al, prudently, reserved his strength and avoided the test of wills, settling for a firm shake and release.

“Would you like a cup of coffee or some breakfast before we talk?” Neil asked, wanting this first meeting to be on a casual level. “There’s a good selection at the buffet, and coffee or juice if you like.” To Monica he suggested “Why don’t you hang out with Jet while we talk? I’ll be sure to give your friend here back in one piece in a little while.”

Monica, somewhat annoyed and a little concerned at her being separated from her charge, wandered up the table, grabbed a chair and slid in next to her girlfriend.

As Monica walked away, John, responding to the courtesies in the perfunctory manner of one not understanding the need, answered “Yes, please.” Stepping to the buffet he filled a cup with piping hot tea, adding a bit of honey, and returned to the group. With that the four men walked to the currently-unoccupied great room and distributed themselves. Neil to his wing chair, Al to his couch corner, and Greg to the other end of the couch, and John took the fourth spot in the conversation group and settled down, taking a sip of the tea.

Neil led off. “John, let me tell you what I know of you, and then if you could correct me and fill in information we don’t have.

I am told that you are a salamander – one who can convert dark energy into normal matter and energy. In short, you have power over fire, smoke and fire’s products like ash. With this your power is effectively unlimited as long as you can find dark energy to convert – which is pretty much a given. Is this correct?”

John nodded, sipping a bit at his cup. “Yes, that’s about it. I’ve spent a very long time learning to control this so I can do it without destroying anything I don’t choose to. That took a very, very long time.”

Greg asked the next question. “From what we’ve also heard you were a vigilante – trying to protect people with your powers. Is this right as well?”

John sighed. “Yes and no... Yes, I used to be a vigilante, but that was long before my power got anywhere close to critical mass. I... I think I left when the police cleaned up their act. It's... a little hard to remember...”

Al then spoke up. “And are you dangerous now?”

John hesitated a few seconds at this, attracting a piercing look from Neil. Summoning up his candor he replied “Yes, I am very powerful. No, I am not out of control as I was before I was trained. I can keep the power in check.”

Al asked, more gently, “Are you sure? Not all of the lads and lasses here are tough immortals like your MIB friends and Monica. Some of us are just plain mortals.”

Another sip, and the answer. “Yes, I am sure. I could bring down this building in a second, but only if I want to. I am under control. The only piece of my training remaining is achieving Mushin... And I'm beginning to suspect that can't happen when I'm stuck in the Hole.”

Neil seemed satisfied by this answer, and took back control of the conversation.

“Gentlemen, I’m satisfied by his answers. Now, he needs to know about us.

This whole situation has come about because two of our group got between drug dealers and their prey. The drug ring was brought down, but in the meantime bounties were put out on many of the people here. This was dealt with and the drug ring head neutralized by your two MIB friends Liily and Suzie, and a gentleman you haven’t met named Joe Houk.

In the meantime a new crisis popped up on the radar – a golem who took over the leadership of the drug gang and is in the process of consolidating that and other groups into a power bloc to use against us. He is well aware of the paranormal nature of the group here and has similar resources.

We need a ringer – a ringer with considerable power to give us the advantage when the golem moves against us. That, if you are willing, would be you. However, there are issues here – we expect that this conflict is going to take place in situations where we cannot reveal the supernatural nature of our forces – nor can the golem on the opposite side. As such, obfuscation and point-contact application of power will need to be our operational stratagem.”
John nodded, taking another sip as Neil spoke. "I can create enough smoke and ash to blot out the sun, and I can enshroud myself to the point where not even my fire will shine through. However, it's much more difficult for me to enshroud others... I can make it so the whole room is filled with smoke, but then everyone is fighting blind. And a key part of my training involved precision... Not only can I keep the fire from coming out, I can perform surgery with it. Unless the place is packed with flammable beings and mortals, collateral damage shouldn't be a problem with me. Beyond that, I'm pretty good with hand to hand and simple melee weapons... Blunt and sharp. I've also always been a natural with scoped rifles. Give me some practice time and I can increase the maximum effective range of a good rifle and scope by 50%."

Greg said “You didn’t tell him the worst part. There’s a wedding being planned in the middle of all of this, and that takes priority.” He grinned, not completely serious but not completely joking either.

John, who was still not quite reattached to the human race, took the statement at face value.

“I don’t see anything you’ve said as a problem. I don’t get why the wedding is an issue, but the battle should not be a problem.

I understand the limits – they’re going to be difficult to work with. I assume our enemy has no such restraint – he’s going to come at us with everything he has? I will not be able to keep this under wraps AND survive against a golem for any length of time. I can't beat a golem anyway... We need a way to kill something that can't be killed."

Neil nodded, then asked “So, are you interested? There’s not much of a paycheck at the end of this, because the win is we take out the golem and a lot of people here now don’t get killed – including the bride and groom who are supposed to be getting married in a few weeks.”

John nodded and took a swig of tea. "Of course I'm interested. A hostile golem is a global threat, and a unified crime syndicate is a major problem too. In any case, friends of my senseis are friends of mine. And finding out a way to kill a golem? That will be some very interesting knowledge to have. I'm in."