The End
Moderators: Bookworm, starkruzr, MrFireDragon, PrettyPrincess, Wapsi
Re: The End
The great rotunda of the Bibliothiki was designed to impress new visitors with the scale and import of the greatest collection of knowledge in the world. And today, it was fully doing it's job as the new visitor stood awestruck, arms limp at his side, as he slowly drifted backwards in circles with his mouth agape. Very much the college professor type, his graying red hair and trim Van Dyke accented his slightly portly 50-some years. His ensemble included a natty hounds tooth jacket, with obligatory leather elbow patches, khaki pants, and penny loafers, also with obligatory pennies installed. Not ordinary ones, though – he used the 1943 Steelies (Denver), which was actually a hilarious juxtaposition if you were familiar with certain aspects of Political Science and Organic Chemistry. And, if you made the mistake of asking about them, he'd tell you. At length.
He adjusted his glasses, then shifted the leather strap of the light brown attache bag over his shoulder – the type with the flap over the top – itself well worn from research trips to a great many lesser libraries over the years. Light filled the great space evenly, accenting the beautiful carvings, stonework, statuary, and railings as he looked up at six levels of pillars and bookcase ends above him, and then the glorious dome above. And, somewhere during the third circle to the rear, he met another patron, who, as it turns out, was distracted for an entirely different reason. The current month's copy of Hoof and Mane fluttered to the ground.
“Oh dear! I completely didn't see you! I'm sorry! Are you OK?” A hand reached out to help him up from his seat on the floor.
Catching his breath, he adjusted his glasses again, and looked up toward the hand, and then the face commanding it. The young, freckled face was framed between firm pair of bare breasts, also freckled, separated by a pale blue strap connected to a flap-top satchel hanging at her hip. The face, with bright jade eyes, was surrounded by a halo of light auburn hair, almost blond, some of which floated over her shoulder towards his face as she stood over him.
“Heh, ahh...” He struggled for words for a moment, then composed himself. “I see we share a taste in accessories!” he finally said, and grasped her hand.
“Ha, yes, so I see!” she replied. “But you have the pockets advantage, eh?” She pulled him up and apologized again.
“No, no, my dear, entirely my fault.” he stammered and adjusted his jacket. “This is my first visit here and I was quite taken by the architecture! I do hope you are well. Please forgive my clumsiness.” He said with a bow, then continued down to pick up the magazine. On his way back up he noticed her four horse legs. Completely flustered, he concentrated on the magazine instead.
“Oh my! Hoof and Mane! 'Are your fetlocks beach ready?' 'Sumerian archery – 5 essential tips!' Heavens – those Sumerians were certainly some fine archers.” He was composing himself. “I wonder how they would compare to, say Comanche, or, or, ah, Japanese cavalry? Interesting to, ah, think about.” He offered her the magazine with a slight bow. She swept back her loose hair over her shoulder and smiled.
“Indeed!” she replied, taking the magazine with a slight curtsey. “Oh, I'd pay money to see a competition between the Sumerians and the Mongols. That would be a blast!”
As they exchanged courtesies, he noticed the red Hello Kitty booties on her feet. Hooves, that is. He stared at them and grinned. She looked down.
“Ha – that's probably why you didn't hear me. I was busy reading and didn't see you. They're quieter and much more comfortable on tile floors like these. I have a bad case of clop on stonework. And don't get me started on slate or flagstone – slippery when dry, and they chip easily.”
“I can only imagine! Makes complete sense though. I'm happy for you!” He looked up and found himself staring at her breasts. He swallowed and looked up to make eye contact again.
“Umm, forgive me, please,” he was stammering again. “This is my first trip here and I've only just arrived. Am I, ahh... overdressed, or am I missing something? I'm trying not to be, ahh, rude or anything. It's just, umm... it's a bit overwhelming.”
“Oh no! Not at all!” she smiled again. “Everybody dresses for comfort around here – it's pretty much a come as you are sort of place. Just be decent – tidy, really. There are folks here in everything from full armor and ball gowns, to their basic forms, such as myself. Keep to general courtesies and you'll be fine. Just remember that even though this place swarms with Alpha predators at times, there are Apex predators ready to keep them in check. Nobody starts a fight they aren't willing to die from.” She scrunched up her face a moment and stepped back, hands to mouth. “Ick. I just realized how horrible that must sound to you.”
“Oh heavens, yes! I mean no. I mean...” He caught his breath. “On the one hand, this place is the pinnacle of knowledge, and worthy of enormous respect. At the same time, I'm worldly enough to know that the universe operates by force. Forces in balance, forces in action, and forces deflected. There are times you must use force. You don't negotiate a stuck lug nut off of a flat tire, after all! Indeed, if all men – people – were angels, we wouldn't need laws.”
“Quite!” she laughed. He chucked as well.
“Oh dear, where are my manners! I've completely forgotten to introduce myself. I'm Joseph,” he said, bowing again.
“How do you do, Joseph! I'm Aquila,” she replied with a bow.
“Joe will do, and may I say, you are the very first centaur I've ever met!”
“And I'm Nudge, one of the Head Librarians,” said a tall, pleasant voice behind them. “Aquila, your reserve is in. You can get it at the desk.”
“Finally!” squealed Aquila with a bounce. “I've been dying to read Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants!”
He adjusted his glasses, then shifted the leather strap of the light brown attache bag over his shoulder – the type with the flap over the top – itself well worn from research trips to a great many lesser libraries over the years. Light filled the great space evenly, accenting the beautiful carvings, stonework, statuary, and railings as he looked up at six levels of pillars and bookcase ends above him, and then the glorious dome above. And, somewhere during the third circle to the rear, he met another patron, who, as it turns out, was distracted for an entirely different reason. The current month's copy of Hoof and Mane fluttered to the ground.
“Oh dear! I completely didn't see you! I'm sorry! Are you OK?” A hand reached out to help him up from his seat on the floor.
Catching his breath, he adjusted his glasses again, and looked up toward the hand, and then the face commanding it. The young, freckled face was framed between firm pair of bare breasts, also freckled, separated by a pale blue strap connected to a flap-top satchel hanging at her hip. The face, with bright jade eyes, was surrounded by a halo of light auburn hair, almost blond, some of which floated over her shoulder towards his face as she stood over him.
“Heh, ahh...” He struggled for words for a moment, then composed himself. “I see we share a taste in accessories!” he finally said, and grasped her hand.
“Ha, yes, so I see!” she replied. “But you have the pockets advantage, eh?” She pulled him up and apologized again.
“No, no, my dear, entirely my fault.” he stammered and adjusted his jacket. “This is my first visit here and I was quite taken by the architecture! I do hope you are well. Please forgive my clumsiness.” He said with a bow, then continued down to pick up the magazine. On his way back up he noticed her four horse legs. Completely flustered, he concentrated on the magazine instead.
“Oh my! Hoof and Mane! 'Are your fetlocks beach ready?' 'Sumerian archery – 5 essential tips!' Heavens – those Sumerians were certainly some fine archers.” He was composing himself. “I wonder how they would compare to, say Comanche, or, or, ah, Japanese cavalry? Interesting to, ah, think about.” He offered her the magazine with a slight bow. She swept back her loose hair over her shoulder and smiled.
“Indeed!” she replied, taking the magazine with a slight curtsey. “Oh, I'd pay money to see a competition between the Sumerians and the Mongols. That would be a blast!”
As they exchanged courtesies, he noticed the red Hello Kitty booties on her feet. Hooves, that is. He stared at them and grinned. She looked down.
“Ha – that's probably why you didn't hear me. I was busy reading and didn't see you. They're quieter and much more comfortable on tile floors like these. I have a bad case of clop on stonework. And don't get me started on slate or flagstone – slippery when dry, and they chip easily.”
“I can only imagine! Makes complete sense though. I'm happy for you!” He looked up and found himself staring at her breasts. He swallowed and looked up to make eye contact again.
“Umm, forgive me, please,” he was stammering again. “This is my first trip here and I've only just arrived. Am I, ahh... overdressed, or am I missing something? I'm trying not to be, ahh, rude or anything. It's just, umm... it's a bit overwhelming.”
“Oh no! Not at all!” she smiled again. “Everybody dresses for comfort around here – it's pretty much a come as you are sort of place. Just be decent – tidy, really. There are folks here in everything from full armor and ball gowns, to their basic forms, such as myself. Keep to general courtesies and you'll be fine. Just remember that even though this place swarms with Alpha predators at times, there are Apex predators ready to keep them in check. Nobody starts a fight they aren't willing to die from.” She scrunched up her face a moment and stepped back, hands to mouth. “Ick. I just realized how horrible that must sound to you.”
“Oh heavens, yes! I mean no. I mean...” He caught his breath. “On the one hand, this place is the pinnacle of knowledge, and worthy of enormous respect. At the same time, I'm worldly enough to know that the universe operates by force. Forces in balance, forces in action, and forces deflected. There are times you must use force. You don't negotiate a stuck lug nut off of a flat tire, after all! Indeed, if all men – people – were angels, we wouldn't need laws.”
“Quite!” she laughed. He chucked as well.
“Oh dear, where are my manners! I've completely forgotten to introduce myself. I'm Joseph,” he said, bowing again.
“How do you do, Joseph! I'm Aquila,” she replied with a bow.
“Joe will do, and may I say, you are the very first centaur I've ever met!”
“And I'm Nudge, one of the Head Librarians,” said a tall, pleasant voice behind them. “Aquila, your reserve is in. You can get it at the desk.”
“Finally!” squealed Aquila with a bounce. “I've been dying to read Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants!”
Last edited by Atomic on Mon Nov 07, 2016 1:10 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: The End
I saw that!...a tall, pleasant voice behind them...
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Re: The End
(I just want to go on the record that I own absolutely zero houndstooth jackets, and I have yet to meet a bare-breasted centaur in the Library.)
"Character is what you are in the dark." - D.L. Moody
"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin
"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin
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Re: The End
Aquila? "Eagle"? There's a group of stars and two navy vessels by that moniker...
Rule 17 of the Bombay Golf Course- "You shall play the ball where the monkey drops it,"
I speak fluent Limrick-
the Old Sgt.
I speak fluent Limrick-
the Old Sgt.
Re: The End
“Ah!” smiled Joe. “The Head Librarian! Just the person I've been looking for!” He fumbled in his attache and grimaced. “Bah! I know it's in here somewhere.” He kept digging.
“Well anyway,” said Aquila, “nice to meet you, Joe! I hope to see you around again. Enjoy your research!” With that, she turned toward the call desk and walked away. She made a point to look over her shoulder and swirl her light auburn tail in a large circular fan as she departed.
Joe stopped his digging and watched the display. “Errr, hrmm?” He looked at Nudge.
“Consider yourself winked at!” smiled Nudge.
“Ahh, hmm, I think I shall, ahh, need some guidance on etiquette,” he stammered. “I shouldn't wish to blunder and wear out my welcome.” He gathered himself and dug in the attache again. “I had a letter of introduction in here somewhere.”
“Quite all right,” soothed Nudge. “We can sort that out at the desk. We have a variety of orientation pamphlets and so on. Just keep to the basic courtesies and you'll be fine. If you wouldn't do it in the street or a friend's presence, you probably ought not to do it here.”
“Umm, yes! Quite reasonable. Thank you!” He gave up on searching his attache, and looked up at Nudge. “Oh heavens you're tall!” He stood mouth agape for a moment while Nudge smiled. “Ehhh – oh, I'm doing it again. I do apologize. This is rather, ahh...”
“Tell you what. How about you tell me about your line of research? Something to focus on will help, I think.” She pointed the way toward the desk and they began walking.
“Yes, quite! Thank you. Heavens, I must appear a doddering old twit. Well, my research. Yes.” He straightened his jacket as they walked.
“I'm looking at the origin stories of the various deities and major, ah, characters of the various pantheons. In particular, I'm searching out where mistranslations and biases have colored or flavored, so to speak, the tales, thus changing various aspects of the characters in question.”
“Interesting!” replied Nudge. “We have a great many sources for origin stories by region and type. For example, there's an entire section devoted to the various progeny of Zeus, or Jupiter if you prefer.”
“Well yes, exactly!” smiled Joe. “But in particular, I'd be checking the various sources in comparison, where one author may have extended or deleted some or another details, due to translation. I'm hoping to see a variety of original language sources.”
“Absolutely! And we have staff on call who can translate everything from Aramaic to Zebelee if needed.”
“Excellent? Ah, Zebelee? Where is that spoken, if I may ask?”
“Oh – it was the tongue of a maritime culture, now long gone. Today the place is called the Celebes.”
“Ah! Yes, yes! Exactly what I'm looking for! It's the lingual shifts, such as from Zebelee to Celebes that can play havoc with the most honest of translations. And it's even worse when the author is writing allegorically, or using colloquial speech. It can completely botch the meaning when filtered through the translator's work, and further complicated by limited familiarity with the topic at hand!” Joe was smiling broadly as they walked. Now he was in his element.
“Yes, I do see your point,” replied Nudge. “I do think that your focus is very original, and should yield some interesting alternatives to common views of various stories. I look forward to seeing your work!”
“Oh, thank you, thank you!” his smile got bigger. “For example, a case of familiarity, or lack of it, is a well know mistranslation, though the error didn't really affect the import of the story in question. It seems ancient Mediterranean sailors used various ropes from various sources. Sisal, hemp, and in particular, camel hair. It seems camel hair was reserved for the very thick ropes used to tie a ship to the mooring or dock. Accordingly, the rope was referred to as a 'camel' – In modern parlance, it would be a hawser. But the translator of the famous tale had only the words in front of him at the time, and so the story became to have 'a camel pass through the eye of a needle.' The allegory is thread, of course, so the meaning is kept, just the detail is off.”
“Yes,” nodded Nudge. “A translation error, but on target. But, there are those that change the meaning, and you're searching for those?”
“Quite!” Joe nodded back. “Now what if the storyteller is trying to use a pun, or tell a joke. Colloquial speech would foul things up. Consider – in the Hawaiian language, a'a is a type of lava rock with sharp edges, and so difficult to walk on – hence the name. Ah ah ah – from hurting your feet!”
“Yes, I see.”
“So now you have a translator trying to convert a bawdy tale from Hawaiian into another tongue. The tale unfolds, and you get to the punch line: 'Suddenly, she cried – Lava!' Completely misses the point.”
Nudge slowed her pace, then stopped while she pondered the joke. A moment later her puzzled look became a grimace as she got the joke.
“Yes,” she giggled, “that does change the meaning.” They were both chuckling as the arrived at the desk.
“Well, sir, at any rate, welcome to the Bibliothiki! Happy to have you here.” Nudge stepped behind the desk go get some paperwork.
“So then, Joe, what's your full name, please?”
“Faeroe. Joseph Faeroe, at your service!”
--------------------
The end.
Some spelling edits
“Well anyway,” said Aquila, “nice to meet you, Joe! I hope to see you around again. Enjoy your research!” With that, she turned toward the call desk and walked away. She made a point to look over her shoulder and swirl her light auburn tail in a large circular fan as she departed.
Joe stopped his digging and watched the display. “Errr, hrmm?” He looked at Nudge.
“Consider yourself winked at!” smiled Nudge.
“Ahh, hmm, I think I shall, ahh, need some guidance on etiquette,” he stammered. “I shouldn't wish to blunder and wear out my welcome.” He gathered himself and dug in the attache again. “I had a letter of introduction in here somewhere.”
“Quite all right,” soothed Nudge. “We can sort that out at the desk. We have a variety of orientation pamphlets and so on. Just keep to the basic courtesies and you'll be fine. If you wouldn't do it in the street or a friend's presence, you probably ought not to do it here.”
“Umm, yes! Quite reasonable. Thank you!” He gave up on searching his attache, and looked up at Nudge. “Oh heavens you're tall!” He stood mouth agape for a moment while Nudge smiled. “Ehhh – oh, I'm doing it again. I do apologize. This is rather, ahh...”
“Tell you what. How about you tell me about your line of research? Something to focus on will help, I think.” She pointed the way toward the desk and they began walking.
“Yes, quite! Thank you. Heavens, I must appear a doddering old twit. Well, my research. Yes.” He straightened his jacket as they walked.
“I'm looking at the origin stories of the various deities and major, ah, characters of the various pantheons. In particular, I'm searching out where mistranslations and biases have colored or flavored, so to speak, the tales, thus changing various aspects of the characters in question.”
“Interesting!” replied Nudge. “We have a great many sources for origin stories by region and type. For example, there's an entire section devoted to the various progeny of Zeus, or Jupiter if you prefer.”
“Well yes, exactly!” smiled Joe. “But in particular, I'd be checking the various sources in comparison, where one author may have extended or deleted some or another details, due to translation. I'm hoping to see a variety of original language sources.”
“Absolutely! And we have staff on call who can translate everything from Aramaic to Zebelee if needed.”
“Excellent? Ah, Zebelee? Where is that spoken, if I may ask?”
“Oh – it was the tongue of a maritime culture, now long gone. Today the place is called the Celebes.”
“Ah! Yes, yes! Exactly what I'm looking for! It's the lingual shifts, such as from Zebelee to Celebes that can play havoc with the most honest of translations. And it's even worse when the author is writing allegorically, or using colloquial speech. It can completely botch the meaning when filtered through the translator's work, and further complicated by limited familiarity with the topic at hand!” Joe was smiling broadly as they walked. Now he was in his element.
“Yes, I do see your point,” replied Nudge. “I do think that your focus is very original, and should yield some interesting alternatives to common views of various stories. I look forward to seeing your work!”
“Oh, thank you, thank you!” his smile got bigger. “For example, a case of familiarity, or lack of it, is a well know mistranslation, though the error didn't really affect the import of the story in question. It seems ancient Mediterranean sailors used various ropes from various sources. Sisal, hemp, and in particular, camel hair. It seems camel hair was reserved for the very thick ropes used to tie a ship to the mooring or dock. Accordingly, the rope was referred to as a 'camel' – In modern parlance, it would be a hawser. But the translator of the famous tale had only the words in front of him at the time, and so the story became to have 'a camel pass through the eye of a needle.' The allegory is thread, of course, so the meaning is kept, just the detail is off.”
“Yes,” nodded Nudge. “A translation error, but on target. But, there are those that change the meaning, and you're searching for those?”
“Quite!” Joe nodded back. “Now what if the storyteller is trying to use a pun, or tell a joke. Colloquial speech would foul things up. Consider – in the Hawaiian language, a'a is a type of lava rock with sharp edges, and so difficult to walk on – hence the name. Ah ah ah – from hurting your feet!”
“Yes, I see.”
“So now you have a translator trying to convert a bawdy tale from Hawaiian into another tongue. The tale unfolds, and you get to the punch line: 'Suddenly, she cried – Lava!' Completely misses the point.”
Nudge slowed her pace, then stopped while she pondered the joke. A moment later her puzzled look became a grimace as she got the joke.
“Yes,” she giggled, “that does change the meaning.” They were both chuckling as the arrived at the desk.
“Well, sir, at any rate, welcome to the Bibliothiki! Happy to have you here.” Nudge stepped behind the desk go get some paperwork.
“So then, Joe, what's your full name, please?”
“Faeroe. Joseph Faeroe, at your service!”
--------------------
The end.
Some spelling edits
Last edited by Atomic on Mon Nov 07, 2016 1:15 am, edited 2 times in total.
Don't let other peoples limitations become your constraints!
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- Sgt. Howard
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Re: The End
?... who in the name of blinker fluid is Joseph Faeroe? I knew it wasn't Joe Houk when Nudge was pleasant with him...
And I want to go on record that I never met a bare-breasted centaur I didn't like...jwhouk wrote:(I just want to go on the record that I own absolutely zero houndstooth jackets, and I have yet to meet a bare-breasted centaur in the Library.)
Rule 17 of the Bombay Golf Course- "You shall play the ball where the monkey drops it,"
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Re: The End
Methinks I know who Faeroe is.
"Character is what you are in the dark." - D.L. Moody
"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin
"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin
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Search…
You, Sir, have just stretched my suspension of disbelief to the breaking point! Why, you might ask? Simple: you have depicted Nudge as being cordial, friendly, pleasant AND efficient at her job as head librarian...
I have to admit, I'm not sure I know either who Joseph Faeroe is, or the relevance of his search in the library to the rest of the story. Is it just me being thick, or something?
I have to admit, I'm not sure I know either who Joseph Faeroe is, or the relevance of his search in the library to the rest of the story. Is it just me being thick, or something?
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Re: The End
... another form of 'High Tailing'- ya gotta love Centaurs...Atomic wrote: “Well anyway,” said Aquila, “nice to meet you, Joe! I hope to see you around again. Enjoy your research!” With that, she turned toward the call desk and walked away. She made a point to look over her shoulder and swirl her light auburn tail in a large circular fan as she departed.
the end.
Rule 17 of the Bombay Golf Course- "You shall play the ball where the monkey drops it,"
I speak fluent Limrick-
the Old Sgt.
I speak fluent Limrick-
the Old Sgt.
Re: The End
OK -- first hint to the ending:
Say his Name!
Say his Name!
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Re: The End
*/facepalm*Atomic wrote:OK -- first hint to the ending:
Say his Name!
How colourful is his coat?
Yanno how some people have Angels/Devils for a conscience? I have a Dark Elf ShadowKnight and a Half Elf Ranger for mine. The really bad part is when they agree on something.
Aphyon chu kissa whol l'jaed.
--Safyr Drathmir
Aphyon chu kissa whol l'jaed.
--Safyr Drathmir
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Re: The End
THAT Joseph?!? Soooo... what might HIS bearing in this story be?DinkyInky wrote:*/facepalm*Atomic wrote:OK -- first hint to the ending:
Say his Name!
How colourful is his coat?
Rule 17 of the Bombay Golf Course- "You shall play the ball where the monkey drops it,"
I speak fluent Limrick-
the Old Sgt.
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the Old Sgt.
- jwhouk
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Re: The End
They're missing it, Atomic.
"Character is what you are in the dark." - D.L. Moody
"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin
"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin
Re: The End
Second Clue: Forces in balance...
Sgt. Howard is getting close. I'd bet DinkyInky is even closer!
Sgt. Howard is getting close. I'd bet DinkyInky is even closer!
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Re: The End
Alright... Joseph, son of Jacob, who was sold into slavery by his brothers, who suffered more and more while in bondage then became the Pharaoh's right hand? THAT is the only Joseph that comes to mind with that name- and I suspect DinkyInky had the same fellow in mind. jwhouk seems to have a clue that he has not shared yet... any hint please?
Rule 17 of the Bombay Golf Course- "You shall play the ball where the monkey drops it,"
I speak fluent Limrick-
the Old Sgt.
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the Old Sgt.
- jwhouk
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Re: The End
Maybe you should ask Catherine the Great.
"Character is what you are in the dark." - D.L. Moody
"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin
"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin
- Sgt. Howard
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Re: The End
Her horse?!?jwhouk wrote:Maybe you should ask Catherine the Great.
Rule 17 of the Bombay Golf Course- "You shall play the ball where the monkey drops it,"
I speak fluent Limrick-
the Old Sgt.
I speak fluent Limrick-
the Old Sgt.
Re: The End
The conversation!Sgt. Howard wrote:Her horse?!?jwhouk wrote:Maybe you should ask Catherine the Great.
Don't let other peoples limitations become your constraints!
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- Sgt. Howard
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Re: The End
The thick one figured it out... actually, Joe cue'd me. Warden Thacker dropped cues about it in conversation with hades- he's now this Joseph Pharaoh... er, Faeroe.
Rule 17 of the Bombay Golf Course- "You shall play the ball where the monkey drops it,"
I speak fluent Limrick-
the Old Sgt.
I speak fluent Limrick-
the Old Sgt.
Re: The End
Congrats! Two chocolate chip cookies and a bowl of gummy bears!
And now that the final shoe has dropped, thank you all for enjoying my silly story. Happy to have made you smile!
Now -- to get to work on that Bibliothiki Visitors Pamphlet....
And now that the final shoe has dropped, thank you all for enjoying my silly story. Happy to have made you smile!
Now -- to get to work on that Bibliothiki Visitors Pamphlet....
Don't let other peoples limitations become your constraints!
My Deviant Art scribbles
The Atomic Guide to Basic GIMP Stuff
My Deviant Art scribbles
The Atomic Guide to Basic GIMP Stuff