A Texan Comes To Visit

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Just Old Al
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A Texan Comes To Visit

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Once upon a time...
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Re: A Texan Comes To Visit

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/wanders away singing "Too much time on my hands . . ."/

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Re: A Texan Comes To Visit

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BRAVO BASE THIS IS BRAVO CHARLEY!!! WE HAVE INCOMING!! I SAY AGAIN, WE HAVE INCOMING!!! TAKE COVER!!!
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Just Old Al
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Re: A Texan Comes To Visit

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Chapter 1 – Irony Is Not Restricted To Ferrous Metal

The Cadillac Eldorado coughed and sputtered its way up Chesnut, the curl of smoke from its exhaust contrasting badly with the black-and-gold paintwork and the steer horns mounted jauntily to its front grille. Lumbering, it pulled into the gate space to the AHI compound, finally dying off to the side.

A tall, lean man in a Stetson exited the vehicle accompanied by a mutter of imprecations and a kick at the front tyre.

"Damn fat Bessie BITCH - ya gotta do this NOW?"

The car, of course, did not answer, but sat impeturbably with the last wisps of smoke curling from its tailpipe into the clear morning air..

Looking around, he spotted the unused guard shack, the sign labeled RICHER ENGINEERING, and the call box, and with a few strides walked over and pressed the button on its surface.

“Can I help you?”
came Ari’s voice from the speaker after a delay of thirty seconds or so.

“Ah hope y’can. Muh car jus’ died out here on yer driveway and I’m hopin’ yew kin lend me a phone so’s I kin call a garage.”

Somewhat baffled by the nearly-incomprehensible accent coming from the tinny speaker, Ari looked at the camera image on the security screen. Muttering a quick “Please wait a minute” to the pickup, she grabbed her cellphone and said “Al”.

“Hi, Ari. What’s up? I’m in the back shop.”

“Al, there’s a…Texan at the gate. Car broke down, and he wants to use a phone to call a garage. Plate on the car is Texas, so he’s not a local and likely knows no one in the area. He also doesn’t seem to have a cellphone, so it’s not like he can just call someone to come and get him. What should I do? “

“How do you know he’s a Texan?”

“He’s wearing a hat dopier than yours, boots and his car has a set of steer horns on the front. If that’s not a Texan it’s doing a good job pretending to be one.”

The sigh on the other end of the phone was loud and long.

“Get a hold of Smokey and send him out to talk to him. If we can help him, let’s do it. Declare Condition Mundane 1 in the facility – no exposure of the paranormal anywhere. Light up the lights.”

“OK, boss.”

After terminating the call, Ari walked to the door of the office area and flipped a switch installed after the reporter incident. This lit a set of blue lights on stanchions along the walls of the front shop, and similar lights outside the doors of Building 2. This declared there were non-paranormal-aware people in the facility and to be aware of the issue – so nothing paranormal visible.

Nodding, she then picked up the plant phone and pressed the button for Smokey’s bay. The phone buzzed one, twice then clicked and the drawl of the elder mechanic made itself plain.

“Whadda y’awl want?”


“How RUDE! Smokey, you’ve been taking lessons from the Sergeant-Major!”

“Oh, Hi, Ari. Sorry, been thinkin’ ‘bout a problem an’ got in the zone. Whut kin I do fer ya?”


“We have a Mundane 1 – there’s a Texan at the gate with a broken-down car. Al wants you to go out and talk to him, and see if we can help. He’s all yours.”

Smokey’s voice sounded eager. “Damn, sounds good. Be nice to hear someone whut talks raht.”

“Oh, you two will get along JUST fine.” Ari smiled to herself.

“I’m on muh way. Grabbin’ the Series I – not gonna be able to do much with it out there. Watch fer me and git ready to open the door if I have to yank it in.”


“Will do.”

Within a few minutes Smokey was at the garage door, and using the remote in his pocket rolled up the door and out into the parking lot. As he headed for the gate and got his first glimpse of the stranded motorist and his vehicle, a sick dread filled him.

“Awwwww…damn.”

As he pulled up to the gate and examined the Cadillac and its owner, he knew.

They’d found him. Damnit, they’d found him.

Resisting a serious urge to turn around and head back to the shop, he pulled up to the gate, stepped out of the car, and addressed the figure standing there.

”Uncle Briggs.”

To say the man on the other side of the fence reacted was an understatement. He looked at the mechanic in his white coveralls, at first uncomprehendingly, then recognition slowly dawned. With that, his face paled, and a huge smile lit up his entire face.

“Leslie? Leslie Stratton? DAMN, boy, is that you? DAMN! Open the gate, boy, and let yer ol’ uncle slap yer back. This’s a miracle, praise the Lord.”

“Uncle Briggs – what’n the Hail ‘re yew doin’ up here in Yankeeland? Y’all swore yew’d never leave Austin.”

“Nephew, ah’m up here lookin fer yew. Now, y’all gonna open that damn gate so I kin say hello proper?”

Smokey pushed the gate access in the security booth, and the gate irised open and then he stepped through. He was immediately engulfed in a ferocious hug by his uncle, and returned it after a second, fiercely.

“Missed you, boy. It’s been a damn long time since you were home – since yer Momma died.”

“Ah know…not much fer me ta go back fer, after Momma and Daddy were gone.”

“”Ah git it. Ah do understand, though yer Auntie and me missed ya. Whut the hail ‘re you doin’ workin’ in a factory – last I heard y’all were workin’ for AHI?”

“This isn’t a factory, Uncle, this here’s Richer Engineering. We do all sorts ‘a thangs – from restorin’ antique cars n’ trucks, to buildin’ custom machinery, to whatever y’all might need.” He carefully didn’t go into the paranormal side – that was not a discussion that he was ever going to have with his uncle. He could hear it in his mind.

“Wayllll, y’see, uncle, the lady whut runs the office is an angel – wings n’ all. And the ol’ gent who owns the place, well he’s married to a centaur – prettiest dam y’ever set yer eyes on.”

No, that discussion would NOT be happening.
"The Empire was founded on cups of tea, mate, and if you think I am going to war without one you are sadly mistaken."
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Just Old Al
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Re: A Texan Comes To Visit

Post by Just Old Al »

Chapter 2 – The Past Always has Complications

“Damn nice car y’got here, Uncle. Ah take it this here’s Bessie IV?”

“Bessie VI. Damn good ol’ girl, but she’s poorly raht now. I was tryin’ to get ta AHI Corporate ta see if I could track yew down, and she jes’ dropped out on me comin’ off 12. Alexander Parkway’s damn busy, so I headed ‘er up Chesnut – they spelled that wrong – an’ ended up here.”

Smokey nodded. The strangest damn things happened here – somehow he had NO doubt that one of Al’s Gods was laughing him-or-herself sick over this one. Said God and he were going to have a long talk about irony one of these days – with a baseball bat.

“Wayll, let git ‘er hitched up to the Landy, and I’ll pull yew inta the shop. Not much we’re gonna be able to do with ‘er out here.”

“Y’all sure yew wanna do that? Won’t yer boss mind?”

“Hayll no, he won’t mind. He’s the one sent me out here – he figgered I’d be able to deal with another Texan.”

“How’d they know I was a Texan?”

“Uncle, y’all are wearin’ a Stetson and boots, and y’all are drivin’ a Caddy with horns on it. Y’all sureashell ain’t from Rhode Island.”

Briggs laughed long and hard. “Boy, you do have a point. Let’s git ‘er hitched up to yer little tractor there – whut IS that thing, anyway?”

“That there’s a 1954 Land-Rover Series I – she come out of Australia with a stop in Pecos before she ended up here. She belongs to mah boss, Al Richer.”

“Surprised yew don’t have a good ol’ Ford fer service.”

“First off, Uncle, we don’t do service calls – we’re not a garage. We’re an engineering works – custom and high-ticket. Al sent me out here ‘cause he’s got a thing fer strays. This truck’s one o’ his collection – it’s not a workin’ vehicle.”

“Well, damn. I’m beholden to ‘im – and I’ll hafta shake his hand and say so. Let’s get ‘er done – shouldn’t be standin’ around jawin’ all day on yer boss’ nickel.”

With that, Smokey extracted a nylon bridle from the back of the truck and attached it to the Cadillac’s tow points. From there, a short chain with D-links attached the bridle to the Land-Rover’s tow hitch.

After instructing his uncle to please-God-pay-attention-to-the-brake-lights-and-don’t-hit-my-boss’-truck the two men, one towing the other, headed for the main rollup door of RE. As they approached the door opened, and seconds later the two vehicles were inside as the door closed.

Continuing unabated, Smokey towed the Cadillac down toward his bay. Stopping gently, he turned off the Land-Rover and stepped out, bending to unhitch the link to the Cadillac’s bridle. Gesturing to his uncle to undo the bridle, he drove further and parked the Landy, walking quickly back.

“Damn, boy – got ALL the toys here. Quaht the place yer workin’.”

“Yep. Quaht the place in-deed. Al’s built this place over a lotta years – used ta be in Minneapolis, but came out here when ‘e married his wife – Rosalynd Alexander.”

“Alexander as in AHI? Done good fer himself.”

“Y’all got that right. They’re in love so bad you can feel it fifty feet back. He’s gonna come out and visit here in a bit – I’ll introduce ya. Raht now, let’s get Bessie in muh bay so we can figger out what ails ‘er.”

And then we can get you on your way before I have ta find out why yer here Smokey thought. Family complications would never be good.

Attracted by the long, lean lines of the Cadillac rolling past his work area, John wandered over.

“What’s with the Caddy, eh? We take to doing old American iron now, are we?”

“Nope, this here’s a stray that washed up on our beach. John, meet mah uncle Briggs. Strangest damn thing – he come up here from Austin lookin’ fer me, ‘n his car died outside the gate.”

“Damn strange. Pleased to meet you, sir.”

“Pleased ta meet yew, too. Bessie here was runnin’ along fine till I come off 12 on ta Alexander, then she started lopin’ and backfirin’ and smoking – damnedst thing.”

“Sudden power loss?” John thought for a second, then walked to the driver’s side of the car and opened the hood with a pull at the latch.

Opening the long expanse of metal was the work of a second, and he peered down on an immaculately-kept Cadillac V8. Huge in the large front end of the car, the 8.2 liter V8 breathed competence and a desire to run.

With John’s help, Smokey and Briggs gentled the big car into the service bay. A touch of the key caused the 500 CID V8 to light off, after installation of an extractor pipe on its exhaust.

On start, the engine idled smoothly, and Smokey and John looked at each other puzzled. Briggs spoke, just as puzzled.

“Ah’m not a liar – she was buckin’ and lopin like nobody’s business. No power at all till she revved, and then I’d get some but not much.”

John motioned Smokey out of the seat of the big car, and settled himself behind the wheel. He locked the parking brake and put his foot on the broad brake pedal, then put the Hydra-Matic in gear and pressed down the gas pedal.

The engine started to stutter rather than forcing the torque converter to stall. More fuel caused he car to shake worse, clattering and rattling the big car on its suspension.

Back in park and key off, John exited the car.

“It’s what I thought – points or the condensor – likely the condenser – are breaking down. No load, she’s fine, but any load and she misfires.”

Smokey nodded, as his uncle looked on. “Yep. Heard that one before mahself. So, set o’ points from NAPA out on 494 and she’s back on the road.”

“Yes, that’d do…but it’s not the best way, eh?”

Briggs spoke up. “Waal, never let it be said that ah don’t do the best fer my mounts. Whut’s on yer mind, son?”

Smokey looked alarmed. He knew where this might be headed, and the thought of his uncle being in town for an extended period of time filled him with panic.

“Naow, John, this isn’t one of our custom jobs – mebbe we’d best just get mah uncle fixed up- “

”Naow, hold on Leslie. I wanta hear what yer friend here’s got to say. Y’all know I want nuthin’ but the best for Bessie – and if he’s got a better idea fer her ignition I wanta hear it.”

“Leslie? Leslie?” John’s grin turned almost feral as he turned on Smokey, eyes flashing.

“Yep. Leslie. Mah nephew here’s proper name’s Leslie Hope Stratton – his momma was fond o’ Bob Hope, and named her boy here after ‘im.”

Blushing fiercely, Smokey advanced on his co-worker, hand raised and finger extended. “Ah do NOT want to hear it outa you you damn Canuck – just because yer momma named you after a bad mystery writer’s no reason for you to be makin’ fun o’ mah Christian name.”

“Fine…Leslie. “

John grinned again and turned back to Briggs.

“Mr. Stratton, the solution here if you want to put a bit of money into her is a simple one.”

“Do tell, son – and don’t call me Mister. Ah work for a livin’ lahk everybody else. Name’s Briggs iffen I can call you John.”

“Briggs Stratton?”

Briggs made a wry face. “Yep. Momma and Daddy had a damn strange sense of humor. If they could’a managed to make mah middle name And they’d ‘a done it. Please do go on.”

“So, we could just give Bessie a tune-up, but you’d be back in the same place in 10,000 miles. Instead of putting in the same old items that are there, we should convert her to an electronic ignition.”

“Idn’t that kinda fancy? Ol’ Bessie here’s nothin’ but a plain old 73 Caddy – nuthin’ electronic ‘cept the radio – and that’s modern.”

“Not fancy at all – GM did the same thing a few years later, and fitted them out with the GM HEI ignition system on that exact same engine. Barring that – which on that engine would need a swap of the air conditioner clutch and the crankshaft pulley for clearance issues – we could fit her with an uprated coil, better wires and a Pertronix Ignitor. It would go in exactly the same place, and she’d look just as she does now but your tune-ups would be a thing of the past.

Plugs would go 25-30,000 miles, no points or condenser, and even the cap and rotor would last longer. Likely give the old girl an extra few miles to the gallon on the highway – open the plug gaps out to .045-050 and she’ll burn very efficiently.”

Briggs was intrigued.

“Wayll now, son,. yer makin’ a lotta sense. Gittin’ good parts for Bessie here’s been a problem the past five years ‘re so – been orderin’ NOS parts and payin’ big for ‘em. Never thought ‘a convertin’ ‘er like that. How much we talkin’ here?”

“Well, the Ignitor’s less than a hundred. The coil’s likely fifty or so, and a cap, rotor and new set of wires and plugs likely a hundred fifty or a bit more. With labor at our standard shop rates you’ll likely be in and out for five hundred or so. Say the words and I can go order the parts and you’ll be off and running tomorrow.”

“Be a damn fool not to. That means I’m stuck in town till she’s done, though.” Briggs turned to Smokey. “Leslie, y’think yew maht give yer uncle a ride to mah hotel? ‘M stayin’ near here at a place called the Spring Hill.”

“I somehow don’t think that will be necessary.” Al stepped into the bay, having lurked outside it for the past few minutes after having been briefed by his ever-handy angel who’d been listening via the intercom.

“Leslie, er Smokey – didn’t you say that Edna was out of town from tonight to Sunday? I know your place is a bit on the small side, so why don’t you and your uncle come up to Maple Grove for tonight? With the new house and the old one we’ve plenty of room for you both, and Rosalita loves cooking for guests.”

He strode up to the tall, rawboned man. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Stratton. Al Richer – welcome to my humble facility.”

Smokey felt trapped. John’s kindly suggestion for the upgrade, and Al’s wish to make his uncle feel at home left him trapped like a rat.

“Al, kin I talk to yew outside fer a minute? Uncle, be back in two shakes – gotta talk ta m’boss here.”

They stepped out of earshot.

“Boss, he ain’t gentled. We cain’t take him out ta the estate – he ain’t gentled. He’s gonna see stuff he ain’t gonna understand – and then we’re gonna have to get the back-shop people in to fix ‘im.” The stress of dealing with his family had forced Smokey even further into his drawl – a sign of the disquiet in his soul.

Al stopped, and considered his mechanic’s words.

“Smokey, I think for one night or two we’ll be fine. We’ve had non-paras on the grounds before, and never had a problem. He won’t be with us that long, and I can call Daisy before we go out so that she knows to shoo away anything or anyone that might cause questions.”

Smokey looked dubious.

“Waaaalllllll, boss, Uncle Briggs is the nosy type. He’s not likely ta take no or a quick answer – he’s gonna look ‘round and figger stuff out.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine. It’s not like we’ll have centaurs around – we’ll lock off the centaur quarters and everybody can just stay human for a day or two. It’s not like we haven’t done this before – we’ve had AHI parties out there and had no problems.”

“Boss, this here is a man that it is im-possible to keep a secret from. If there something y’all don’t want him to know he’s gonna find it.”

“Leslie, relax. It is for one night, maybe two. The centaurs can manage, and the rest can be warned off easily enough. Things will be fine. What could possibly go wrong?”

“That there’s whut scares me.”

“Worse to worst we call in MIB. Period, full stop. Until then, I think we’re safely justified in taking the chance. Relax. I would have thought you’d be happy to see your uncle – you seem to be on good terms.”

Smokey pondered – how much should he say? Throwing caution to the winds, he decided he needed someone to talk to – and Al was trustworthy.

He spoke, accent effectively gone. “Al, can we talk a minute? I gotta…situation I need to talk to somebody about – and I’d like to talk to you.”

Al was nonplussed. While they’d had a very convivial working relationship, Al had never considered himself Smokey’s confidante or friend – obviously he’d been wrong.

“No problem. One thing, first.” Al stepped back into the bay where John and Briggs had been exchanging care and feeding notes on the big Caddy.

“John – I heard what you were saying about the upgrade to the Cadillac. Please order that immediately and ask for morning delivery tomorrow. With luck we can have Mr. Stratton’s Cadillac in perfect condition by noon – so he can do as he wishes with no more delays.

Talk to the local NAPA and see if you can get the wires and plugs there – if not order the proper parts with the same caveat as the Pertronix parts. Get top quality – a car this well-kept deserves nothing but the best.”

Briggs started a bit – he’d expected less convivial a reception, not knowing Al or his fondness for taking in strays.

“Why thanks, Mr. Richer. Ah hate to be takin up the time o’ yer folk, ordering’ parts ‘n all. Kin ah at least prepay fer the orders? Don’t want ta be a problem just showin’ up lahk ah did.”

“Mr. Stratton, any relative of Smokey is a friend of mine. Don’t concern yourself over the ordering – we do this all of the time and our suppliers know us well. It will be a bit odd for us to be ordering vintage Cadillac parts, but this is well within the capabilities of our works here. Relax, and John can settle you down in the office with a coffee and some chocolate biscuits. We’ll meet you there – if you’ll excuse me.”

With this, Al excused himself and went to find Smokey in a bay opposite.

Pulling up two bench stools, he sat on one and pointed Smokey to the other.

“Smokey, I’m here to help. What can I do for you – or not do that I’m doing? Please, tell me.”

Smokey proceeded – almost accentless which indicated his level of control.

“Al, I haven’t seen my ant or uncle for years – since my Momma died. Daddy had passed away a few years before, so that was the last of my family down there – I was a lone child in the family.

My ant and uncle were nice as pie – great folks – but they insisted I had to stay there and go into the family business. If you read up on the world of deep-well drilling the name Stratton is in it from the beginning. My grandpa started the business in the early 20th century, and we went from strength to strength.

You want a hole drilled that’s impossible, you call us.

Only thing I can figger is he’s here to twist my arm – hard – to come back – and that’s the last thing I want.”

“Why not? Not trying to be difficult here, but the life of a retired mechanic working for me can’t be all that interesting.”

“Helluva lot more interesting than listening to a bunch o’Texans goin’ on about rock and sandstone and drill heads." His accent was back with a vengeance.

“Damn, Al, I love it here. A career with AHI, then here – it’s a big family. You, that damn crazy angel, yer buddy the sergeant, the mad scientist, the mages…all of this is fun. Anyway, Minneapolis is mah home – I don’t wanna go back to Texas. I love it here.”

“Fair enough. I feel the same way. I don’t ever want to leave here.”

“With yer missus, I cain’t POSSIBLY understand that.” Smokey grinned.

“Mind your place, there churl…gazing on the Mistress is against the rules. “ Al grinned as well, then sobered.

“What do you want me to do? I can renege on the offer of a place – think of some excuse. You’re more important –“

“Naw., don’t do that. Yer raht – there’s nothin’ he can see if y’all prep fer it. Whut I need is that ya never leave me alone with ‘im – he ain’t gonna press me if there’s folk about. Y’all do that an’ I’ll be OK till he leaves.”

“Deal. I’ll take him out to Maple Plain in the Aston – you can stop home and pick up some clothes and your traveling kit and meet us out there. Now, I need to phone ahead and declare a Mundane 1 out there. I’ll get Rosalita to get in some beer as well – assume your uncle drinks?”

“If he don’t, ah do…and ah’ll need it. Anything good will do – he’s not fussy and neither am I.”

“Anything else I need to know?”

“Not a thing. He won’t talk politics or religion – very well-bred gentleman he is. Y’all ‘ll like ‘im – he’s great folks.”

“If he’s anything like you, I’m sure of it.” Al rose, and clapped his engineer on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Leslie. We’ll keep your uncle off your trail.”

“Thanks, Al.”

With that, the two men left for the office.
"The Empire was founded on cups of tea, mate, and if you think I am going to war without one you are sadly mistaken."
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Re: A Texan Comes To Visit

Post by FreeFlier »

Oh, this cannot end well . . .
Wolf-who-watches wrote:One suspect that uncle knows things already. )()()()()()()()()(
Yes. Drilling in odd corners of the world . . . and some are odder than others.

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Re: A Texan Comes To Visit

Post by Just Old Al »

FreeFlier wrote:Oh, this cannot end well . . .
Wolf-who-watches wrote:One suspect that uncle knows things already. )()()()()()()()()(
Yes. Drilling in odd corners of the world . . . and some are odder than others.

--FreeFlier
Hell, there's NOWHERE odder than Texas.....

{runs and hides from a half-ton of feline killing machine}
"The Empire was founded on cups of tea, mate, and if you think I am going to war without one you are sadly mistaken."
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Re: A Texan Comes To Visit

Post by lake_wrangler »

You know, I didn't say anything at the time, but I was wondering why a photo of a horned Cadillac was posted under Fan Art, rather than under the Photo Album or the More Stuff threads... Now it all makes sense.
Just Old Al wrote:Declare Mundane 1
Ha! That's precious!

Just Old Al wrote:8.2 liter V8
...
500 CID V8
:shock: :shock: :shock:
That's bigger than the engine in my full-size, nothing-but-metal, built-like-a-tank Suburban! (6.5l diesel...)
Why, that's even bigger than the gas engine in the truck of the guy who used to rent us 12 horses for the summer (all pulled in a single goose neck horse trailer), at the camp I worked at, long ago (I think his truck was a Ford F-450, with a 460CID gas engine...)

Just Old Al wrote:“Al, I haven’t seen my ant or uncle for years
She lives on the farm... You know, between the two glass panes, so people can see all the tunnels and such... :P

Just Old Al wrote:My ant and uncle were nice as pie
But we don't let her near the pie... otherwise, people might call health services on us... :lol:

Just Old Al wrote:Things will be fine. What could possibly go wrong?
I thought Al was more genre-savvy than that... :shock:

It has now been invoked! Prepare for the worst! All hands to stations! Batten down the hatches!

:lol: :lol: :lol:
Last edited by lake_wrangler on Wed Sep 28, 2016 11:53 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: A Texan Comes To Visit

Post by Sgt. Howard »

The five most frightening words in the English Language-

"What could possibly go wrong?"-

BTW- the bulk of this is pure Al, with only trimmings and suggestions here and there from the rest of the asylum lunatics.
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Re: A Texan Comes To Visit

Post by lake_wrangler »

Well, they're in for quite the ride, now... They just don't know it, yet.
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Re: A Texan Comes To Visit

Post by Just Old Al »

Sgt. Howard wrote:The five most frightening words in the English Language-

"What could possibly go wrong?"-

BTW- the bulk of this is pure Al, with only trimmings and suggestions here and there from the rest of the asylum lunatics.
Sorry - should have mentioned that in the beginning - it is going to be on the title page of the PDF.

My bad. Mind is not what it used to be - which n some ways is a kindness. :)
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Re: A Texan Comes To Visit

Post by AmriloJim »

Just Old Al wrote:Hell, there's NOWHERE odder than Texas.....
Hey! I resemble that remark!

And Caddies with custom hood ornaments are nothing new here. This photo is of about a quarter of the Big Texan Steak Ranch fleet... if you're visiting Amarillo, they'll send a limo to your hotel for a ride to the restaurant.
big-texan-opry.jpg
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lake_wrangler
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Re: A Texan Comes To Visit

Post by lake_wrangler »

I can't help but wonder how many accidents occur because the horns obstruct the view...

I'm guessing that it's an acquired skill...
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Re: A Texan Comes To Visit

Post by FreeFlier »

lake_wrangler wrote:I can't help but wonder how many accidents occur because the horns obstruct the view...
I wouldn't expect very many . . . it's far enough out and low enough it shouldn't be an issue.

--FreeFlier
Warrl
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Re: A Texan Comes To Visit

Post by Warrl »

Sgt. Howard wrote:The five most frightening words in the English Language-

"What could possibly go wrong?"
Sorry, there are five more frightening words, that come a bit later:

"It couldn't get any worse."
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Just Old Al
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Re: A Texan Comes To Visit

Post by Just Old Al »

Chapter 3 – No Problem, He Says, No Problem At All

While walking across the shop and ascending the stairs, Al and Smokey chatted on the work at hand, and his uncle's rather stereotypical taste in cars.

"Smokey, what posesses a man like your uncle to drive something like he does? It seems rather a stereotype - the Texas oilman with the Cadillac decorated with bull horns. It's a beautiful car, indeed, but I do wonder at the motivations."

"Al, that's mah uncle raht there. With him it's no stereotype, but the honest-to-God truth all the way down to the silver on his Stetson.

Bessie I was his ol' Ford pickup truck he had when he was young. Still got 'er, too - tucked away in one o' the barns on his place. He started drivin' Caddys when he had ta start totin' businessmen around and lookin’ like the executive he was turnin' inta. When'e did, he jus' kept puttin' horns on 'em - just his way 'a showin' he wasn't some stuffed shirt but a real driller."

"Interesting. So, there's no act there at all - it's all true."

"Yep. He's what he is - and nothin' else."

By then they'd reached the top of the stair, and Al badged in through the lock, Smokey in tow. What he saw as the door opened shocked him.

Briggs was dozing over his coffee - it had been a full day for the man, and Al could sympathize. However, the rest of the scene was utterly intolerable.

Creeping up behnd him, silent pace by pace was Ari - fangs and claws completely out, and wings folded to her back. Step by stealthy step she approached the sleeping man.

"ARI!" Al yelled - utterly shocked.

With that bellow many things happened at once. Ari started, and in miliseconds resumed her fully human form. Briggs started as well, jerking back in the comfortable armchair he'd esconced himself in in front of the conference table.

"DAMN! Whut happened? Ah musta dozed off. Sorry, kinda comfortable an' ah didn' sleep too well at the hotel last night."

"Mr. Stratton, no problem whatsoever. I didn't realize you'd dozed off and called for my office manager - she and I have some things to speak of." Al shot her a warning glare that indeed there would be some things spoken of - stalking the customers for practice was simply NOT on.
"I need to make a phone call or two, but after that you and I are going to head out to my home in Maple Plain. Smokey - that's what we call your nephew Leslie - will meet us there - he has a few things to tidy up here and he has to go home for clothes & toiletries before he meets us out there. Is that acceptable for you?"

"Waal, there is one thing ah want ta address first. If yew keep callin' me 'Mr. Stratton' we're gonna have words - mah name is Briggs and ah'd prefer it if ya use mah Christian name, Mr. Richer."

"Well, Briggs, I will do so only if you call me Al. I work for my living as well, and the words 'Sir' and 'Mister' are anathema to me." Al extended his hand again, and said "Briggs, I'm Al."

"Likewise, Al. Ah'm Briggs. Ah do want ta talk to yew about puttin' me and mah nephew up, though - ah don't want ta be any trouble to yew and the missus."

"Nonsense. We have plenty of room, and Rosalita is the best cook anyone could ever want. I would be honored to have both of you as guests. As I said, you make yourself comfortable. Smokey and I have a few things to talk over, then we'll go."

"Thanks. Ah do 'preciate it." With that, Briggs settled back in his chair, set his Stetson over his eyes, and again headed for somnolence.

Al, Smokey and a chagrined-looking angel headed for his office, and Al closed the door against prying eyes - and ears.

"And what was THAT about, young lady?" Al asked in a quiet voice. "Do we make a habit of stalking the customers when I'm not around?"

"Uhhhhh, no. Not just the customers...you guys, too." She stood in front of him, uncertainty in every line of her posture. " I dont get to get out and use my skills much for obvious reasons, so I stay sharp by doing a little stalking during my day. It helps a lot."

"Well, young lady, this will cease and desist fortwith. DO NOT stalk the customers - ESPECIALLY the mundane ones. All we need is one quick customer with a cellphone camera and we willl never escape the tabloid papers - and I for one will not be subjected to that.

Do you understand?"

"Yes, Al. I won't stalk the customers anymore. Pity, though...it's so much FUN!"

"Let me think on it - we'll find you someone to play hide-and-seek with. Just...please don’t stalk the customers. One weak heart and we're in deep trouble."

"Okay...awwwwww...." She turned away and slipped out of the office, dejection showing in her posture. As she left, she muttered, "I never get to have any fun..."

When she left Smokey turned to Al, and said "Still think this is a good idea, boss?"

“Yes, I do. As a matter of fact, if that’s the worst thing we run into then we’re in fine shape. Ari was just yielding to a bit of angelic biological imperative, and it was entirely harmless.”

“Thass raht, yew just keep tellin’ yerself that.” Smokey was unimpressed and unconvinced. He smelled disaster in this, and wanted nothing to do with it – but this time he’d been overridden.

“Very well. You go do a quick cleanup and check with John on the parts for the Caddy – let’s make sure we get them in and get him mobile ASAP. This way he has a bolt option if he chooses to use it – or if things become too difficult.

Now, I need to call Daisy and let her know we’re having company – and to shoo the elves and everything else off to the woods.”

Smokey left, and Al picked up the phone. Tapping the speed-dial, the phone burred, and then the voice of his dearest picked up.

“Hi, Al! What’s up? You never call during the day unless something’s going on.”

“I need to declare a Mundane 1 – I’ve been a bad boy.” In several sentences he detailed the unlikely events of the morning, and his extension of an invitation to Smokey and his uncle.

“Damn, Al. With the way this place is laid out I’m sure we can keep this under control, but, really, sometimes your soft-heartedness amazes me.”

“Dear, it’s the best way to keep Smokey and his uncle in a controlled environment – this way Briggs can’t put the screws to Leslie” he snickered “and harass him for whatever reason he’s here. Smokey’s asked for my help on this, and it seemed the best idea. Again, I do apologize, but it seemed the best.”

With a heavy sigh, Daisy acquiesced. “I agree, but we really do have to talk about your tendencies in picking up strays and this whole Sir Galahad thing you seem to engage in on a regular basis.”

“If it wasn’t for my Sir Galahad tendencies, dear – we’d have never met.”

“And there are days, love, where that sounds like a good idea.”

“Now, really, dear, that was entirely uncalled for…”

Her laugh tinkled through the phone, and Al’s mind dropped into neutral, the ire gone. She’s lucky I love her so damned much… Al thought.

“I’m sorry, dear, but you left yourself wide open to that. So, two more for dinner and breakfast at a minimum, two rooms, and I’ll have Rosalita get in some beer and bourbon – not sure what they drink.”

“Sounds perfect, love, and I really am sorry I did this. I apologize.”

“We’ll be fine. You need to go out and talk to the dryad, though, and get her to warn the other residents – we’ll have to keep it quiet. I’ll call Buck and warn him to let Atsali and Castela that we have mundanes on the property. Rowdy’s out of town, and Cindy can be bribed to stay at a girlfriend’s or stay two-legs, so it’s all good. See you soon…love you!”

Soon after, Al loaded Briggs into the Aston-Martin, and with a stop by his hotel for his bags, the pair headed for Maple Plain and the source of all of Al’s happiness.

As they pulled away from the hotel, Al studied his guest. Tall, lean, rangy, with the bowlegs of one who’s spent more than a little time on a horse, he was as Smokey described – ‘nothin’ but himself’. He sprawled back in the comfortable cockpit of the Aston, settling bonelessly into the leather seat.

Al spoke up. “Quite the trick, you running across your nephew like that.”

Briggs, enmeshed in his thoughts, started slightly at the statement, then settled down. “True ‘nuf, and the damndest thing. It’s lahk ol‘ Bessie knew where ‘e was, and brought me. Never seen anythin’ lahk it.”

Al chuckled. “Briggs, that type of thing is par for the course for me and mine. The unlikely happens on a regular basis, and the utterly improbable pops in regularly as well.”

Al went on to tell the story of The Great Beef Giveaway – carefully not mentioning what the pucks were being made for.

“..and then – then, mind you, a truck pulls into the facility with two tons of ground beef on board. If you figure it out, that is 16,000 – SIXTEEN THOUSAND – of the little beefy monsters, all frozen solid in 10-pound boxes.

My wife’s family runs a charitable foundation and gathered names of charities that could use the food, and we moved 2/3s of them – by HAND, mind you – out of that trailer and into cars and trucks in three hours.

My partner Greg’s charity in helping out the packing plant fed a lot of people that day and for a time to come – those were very good food, and they went to people who could appreciate them.

The last third became the burger bash to end all burger bashes for AHI – we set up commercial grills in Chesnut Park – next to my building, there – and it was a glorious feed.”

Al can tell a story, and by that point Briggs was thoroughly enmeshed in the tale. “Damn! Must’a hurt, though, eatin’ if yew’ll pardon the expression – all that meat. Must’a cost yew a pretty penny.”

“To be honest, mate – it wasn’t about the money. We needed some of them for that customer anyway, and we did get a good price on them. If we had left them with the packer it would have broken them – they’re a small place, and an order like that would have been the straw that broke the camel’s back.

This way everyone benefitted. I have a loyal supplier, the customer got his training baits, and a lot of people got a really good meal or more out of the whole thing.

Let’s be honest – you’d have done the same thing, if you’d been in my shoes.”

“Weeeeellll, naow I will admit to doin’ things lahk that a time or two meself.” With this, he launched into a story regarding a small engineering firm, a modified hydraulic pack and a slightly erroneous cost estimate on a modification.

“They ended up makin’ good on it, but I didn’ hold ‘em to the estimate. The stainless they quoted was right expensive for what they were doing with it, but we wanted it to last – and it did! Near as I know that pump is still runnin’.”

“You and your nephew have one thing in common – you start speaking technically and your accents disappear.”

Briggs laughed, slapping his knee. “Sure ‘nuf that’s true. It’s hard to make yerself understood and taken seriously if y’always talk like y’got a lip fulla dip.”

“True enough. Briggs, I have to ask. How is it that Smokey and you are close to the same age?”

Briggs pursed his lips, and an internal discussion took place. Finally, it settled out and Briggs began to speak.

“Waaaallll, Al, Leslie was my oldest brother’s boy – and Momma had five of us, ‘n we were spaced apart. Momma had trouble carryin’, and some of us didn’ make it. So, Leslie an’ I are ‘bout 5 years apart.”

Right then, Al was suffering from an internal discussion himself. He so wanted to ask why Briggs was looking for Leslie, er Smokey, but he decided finally that that would not be an acceptable question, no matter how kindly asked. Pulling in to the access road to the estate, however, he was spared asking the question by arriving at the estate’s gates.

“Ah guess y’all meant it when y’said y’had room fer us.” Briggs said, tongue firmly implanted in cheek. “Quite the spread y’got here, though of course it’s tiny compared to Texas…”

Al glanced over and caught the wicked grin, and responded in kind. “True, but here we have these things called trees, and lakes, and grass on the ground. I’ve been in Texas, and see the horticultural beauties there – with three-inch thorns!”

“True ‘nuff, Al, true ‘nuff. When were yew in Texas?”

“A few years ago. Friend of mine has a small spread down there around Monahans, and I went down for a week for a busman’s holiday to work on his collection of rare Rovers. Lovely area – never really appreciated high desert before – but it has a beauty all of its own.”

“Yessir, it is nice there – hot and very dry – but sometime Al ya gotta come to Austin. It’s beautiful there – with the Colorado River runnin’ through the city and all the lakes. It’s a paradise. Where you’re temperate climate here, we’re subtropical.

The museums, clubs, music – you name it we have it. It’s a fantastic place.”

Al grinned. “Your accent’s slipping again.”

“Not a surprise – I get excited when I talk ‘bout home.”

“Speaking of home, this is mine. Smokey should be along soon, and we’ve time for a drink or two before dinner if you care. If you’ll excuse me I don’t imbibe, but the house is not dry – and I think we’ll find my cook has gotten in beer and we have a good stock of liquors if you prefer.”

Briggs was only half-listening, being more occupied looking at the houses and the surrounding area. “Beautiful. Whay’re there two manors?”

“Simple enough. The original to the left was built by Ebbie Alexander way back when the family first came to the area – 1870s, if I recall correctly. Beautiful house, and served its owners well. Amusingly, parts of it were built from the timbers of Ebbie’s paddlewheel steamer – the “Queen City Belle”. I’ll take you over and show it to you later if you like.

However, when my wife and I married the old place was showing some serious issues with rot and structural anomalies – and because of it she and I decided that the Alexanders needed a new manor.

It turned out that the issues with Old Alexander were repairable after all, and we did so – the tower is all new as it was the worst hit with rot. With that done, we’ve basically declared it a guest house for friends and family.

We live in New Alexander – and you’ll be staying here with us.”

I want you where I can keep an eye on you…nothing against you, there me bucko Al thought.
"The Empire was founded on cups of tea, mate, and if you think I am going to war without one you are sadly mistaken."
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Just Old Al
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Re: A Texan Comes To Visit

Post by Just Old Al »

Chapter 4 – The Play Begins

With that, they pulled into the parking circle and dismounted. Walking toward the house, Briggs stopped and whistled.

“Yer architect did a fabulous job, Al – from here the two houses fit the landscape well, n’ don’t clash with each other a’tall. Bravo.”

“Thank you.” Al smiled.

Briggs nodded. “Ah figgered as much. Y’all hired a good architect and stayed with ‘im on the design – y’knew what y’wanted.”

“We did. My wife and I had very firm ideas of what we wanted for a house, and what we didn’t want – which was ostentation. This is the family seat for the clan Alexander – her eldest son and his wife and children live in a house on the estate built for them, and her two younger children live with us in New Alexander for the present as neither has families of their own. The son who still lives with us runs the Alexander charitable organization, and my stepdaughter just graduated law school and is deciding what she wants to do with it.

This doesn’t mean it’s a big empty place – we have guests frequently, and often for periods of time. My business partner Sergeant Howard often comes by with his wife and stays as suits him, and of course the youngsters have visitors as suits them.”

Briggs nodded, the infodump confirming his thoughts on the situation. “Am ah gonna git to meet yer kids?”

“Sadly, not the younger ones. Cindy is out of town as is her brother. They live pretty active lives and just base here as suits them. My oldest stepson and his wife may drop by in the evening – they often do.”

By this time, they’d reached the front door. It opened, and Edward, in full pomp and forewarned as to the presence of a guest, greeted him with “Master Al. Mr. Stratton, may I take your bags? I will convey them too your room – please see me when you wish to retire and I will guide you.”

Briggs looked a bit lost – while not at all unfamiliar with servants being confronted with a majordomo of the classic mold was a bit disconcerting. Al was secretly amused – he remembered all too well his own first meeting with Edward and the feeling of bemusement it engendered.

“Thanks…what’s yer name agin?”

“You may call me Edward, Mr. Stratton. Please feel free to call on me if there is anything you need or desire.”

“Thanks. We heard anythin’ from that nephew o’ mine?”

“Yes, sir, we have, the young Mr. Stratton” Edward said this without the slightest flicker of amusement “is on his way here, to be expected in twenty minutes or so depending on traffic.”

“Great. Thanks.”

After divesting themselves of hats and bags into Edward’s care, they walked into the entry – and Smokey whistled.

“Damn, Al – I’ve seen smaller barns even in Texas. This’s impressive – is the whole house built on this scale? Ah could ride a horse up those stairs and down those halls without duckin’!” He looked around eagerly – noting all of the architectural details – and no doubt seeing but not commenting on the security features.

Smothering his amusement at the equine comparison on the architecture, Al answered. “Yes, it is. While we do discourage horses in the house and don’t have any on the property but for boarders, the house is built wide and open.

A lot of that’s a reaction to the old place – fine for the 1870s, it was cramped by modern standards other than the great rooms. Rosalynd – my wife – wanted an open house that had plenty of room. I concurred – decades of living in military quarters, and then my place in Minneapolis left me wanting room.”

They walked through into the great room, and Al noted with relief that the LCD screens were up on the weapons display. Daisy had obviously been through the house with Edward and things of a non-mundane nature had been dealt with.

Edward walked in after them. “Dinner will be at seven, gentlemen. The Mistress will be joining you shortly. May I serve beverages?”

Briggs looked at Al, then at Edward. “Any chance y’all have got a cold Bohemia Obscura in a chilled mug?”

Edward answered. “I’m afraid not. We do have Negra Modelo, however, and Bohemia Lager. When we were informed we were having guests we brought in a sampler.”

Briggs smiled. “Negra Modelo will do damn nicely. Ah Figured it was gonna be Corona or Lone Star or something ‘Texan’. Damn glad to find a good solid dark beer.”

“Briggs, I may no longer imbibe, but we’d never have the ill grace to inflict fizzy lemonade on our guests who drink beer. I think you and Smokey will find the selection to your liking.”

”And what would the Master care for?” Edward asked, with a slight wink in Al’s direction. So, we’re playing at Jeeves with a guest in the house, are we? Very well, then.
Al answered loftily. ”My usual tipple, please, Edward. A ginger ale with an orange slice, little ice.”

“Very good, sir.”

Edward left rather than accessing the bar in the room – the beer was obviously in the walk-in, though undoubtedly during dinner the small bar fridge would be stocked now that Briggs had expressed a preference.

They walked to the alcove, looking out on the fields.

“So, other than your little escapade with ignition systems, how are you liking our part of the world? From what Smokey said, you don’t do a lot of traveling. ‘Swore you’d never leave Austin’ are the words he used, if I recall correctly.”

“Ah’m not a traveler – he’s raht on that. Really, rather stay home on m’spread and let people come ta me – happier that way with me and the wife. The kids come and visit, I go to work at the office ev’ry day – don’t do much work at sites anymore at mah age – and just enjoy life.

Seems ta me you kinda do the same there, Al. Business ta run, folks ta work with, and home to the wife – though yer spread’s a bit fancier’n mine.“ Briggs chuckled.

“Indeed I do, Briggs – though I can’t take the credit for my ‘spread’ here. This is all the Alexanders – I married into the family a few years ago when Rosalynd and I met. I’m nothing more than an old soldier – traveled the world as a soldier in Her Majesty’s Army – and finally retired here in Minneapolis rather than back home in England.

One thing led to another – and here I am.”

While they were talking, Al’s gaze wandered out the window, as was his usual habit. His eyes detected a shape in the sky – swooping, diving, playing with currents and cruising back and forth across his field of vision – and the shape looked entirely too familiar.

Atsali. She was home from school, and diligent as she always was, doing her mandatory exercises for Flight Team – as she always did.

DAMNIT!

Providentially, Edward returned bearing a tray. Offering a chilled stein to Briggs, he then provided his place at the coffee table (thankfully facing away from the window) with a stone coaster and then served Al his beverage in an English pint glass.

“Edward, have you seen Miss Atsali since she’s back from school? I know she usually does her sports exercise at this time of the day.”

Edward, never slow on the uptake, looked out the window and his eyes widened slightly as he took in the scene – and the possible consequences.

Briggs, seeing the two men glancing toward the window, turned around and looked out as well. Noting the speck in the sky, he squinted and said “Damn! Y’all have got some big buzzards here’bouts!”

Thankful Briggs was nearsighted and hoping his luck held up, Al hastily said, “Yes, we do. It’s the lake at the southern end of the property – Lake Independence. We’ve got all sorts of wildlife in the forests here, and some fish eagles.”

“Edward, would you give Miss Atsali a call about her exercise regimen? I don’t mind her using the equipment in the gym, but just warn her we have guests before she comes traipsing through the house in her exercise togs.” Al sincerely hoped that Edward caught the subtext of Who in Hades forgot to warn Atsali? CALL HER NOW AND GET HER THE HADES OUT OF THE SKY! and dealt with the problem.

“Very good, Milord. I will do so immediately.” Completely oblivious to the glare Al shot him on the ‘Milord’ comment, he turned and leisurely left the room.

Picking up his drink with a sweaty, slightly shaky hand, he held it out to Briggs with the toast “To new friends”. They clinked glasses, and drank.

As they sipped their drinks, Al surreptitiously kept an eye on the sky. Within a minute or two the figure in the sky hovered, dropped slightly then arrowed for the earth, landing out of sight of the window.

Al breathed a sigh of relief. Now, if they could keep any other untoward paranormal visitations from happening then they might get through the next day or so without having to get MIB to intervene.
"The Empire was founded on cups of tea, mate, and if you think I am going to war without one you are sadly mistaken."
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Re: A Texan Comes To Visit

Post by Just Old Al »

lake_wrangler wrote:I can't help but wonder how many accidents occur because the horns obstruct the view...

I'm guessing that it's an acquired skill...
My Land-Rover has the spare tyre on the bonnet - believe it or not it matters little for visibility. I doubt horns would do anyhing other than frighten pedestrians.
"The Empire was founded on cups of tea, mate, and if you think I am going to war without one you are sadly mistaken."
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Re: A Texan Comes To Visit

Post by lake_wrangler »

Just Old Al wrote:
lake_wrangler wrote:I can't help but wonder how many accidents occur because the horns obstruct the view...

I'm guessing that it's an acquired skill...
My Land-Rover has the spare tyre on the bonnet - believe it or not it matters little for visibility. I doubt horns would do anyhing other than frighten pedestrians.
What's truly frightening, is seeing a bush guard on a transport truck... :shock:
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Re: A Texan Comes To Visit

Post by lake_wrangler »

HA! I love that bit about Ari... and her admission that she didn't stalk only the customers... :D

Big buzzards indeed... :lol:

Just Old Al wrote: I’ll call Buck and warn him to let Atsali and Castela know that we have mundanes on the property.
You were missing a word, there...
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