Doing it right...

[DinkyInky]

Her phone rang – "Let's Do The Time Warp Aga-aaain" came warbling out of the speakers.

Bwahahahahahaaaaaa! Why am I not surprised? It was either that, or I could see two tunes from Queen being set for it...bet you guess them in two seconds.

"Killer Queen" is Lily's ringtone for Suzie, yes.

Not what I was thinking, but good one.

[FreeFlier]

Her phone rang – "Let's Do The Time Warp Aga-aaain" came warbling out of the speakers.

Bwahahahahahaaaaaa! Why am I not surprised? It was either that, or I could see two tunes from Queen being set for it...bet you guess them in two seconds.

"Killer Queen" is Lily's ringtone for Suzie, yes.

Not what I was thinking, but good one.

. . .

Now I wonder what the other tunes were . . .

--FreeFlier

[DinkyInky]

Her phone rang – "Let's Do The Time Warp Aga-aaain" came warbling out of the speakers.

Bwahahahahahaaaaaa! Why am I not surprised? It was either that, or I could see two tunes from Queen being set for it...bet you guess them in two seconds.

"Killer Queen" is Lily's ringtone for Suzie, yes.

Not what I was thinking, but good one.

. . .

Now I wonder what the other tunes were . . .

--FreeFlier

Hint: both tunes deal with immortality.

[Sgt. Howard]

The two ambled across the snow-covered alfalfa field to Greg's 2/3 acre plot- the main structure being a 24' x 48' double-wide, circa 1969. There was an interesting collection of outbuildings surrounding it, the largest being a garage with the word "GUNSMITH" painted over the door. Right next to it was a western-style false-fronted structure with the outline of an anvil displayed on the broadfront. Another ramshackle structure was hidden behind these two- a quick glance told John it was not completely square. Off to the back side yard stood a northern style greenhouse with a small shed just beyond- between these two sat a short range. There was a trashed-out singlewide on the property as well, but it was clearly being disassembled for other purposes.
Greg Ushered John into the Suburban (no way he would fit in the Subaru) and they were off to Riverside, a pleasant half-hour trip. On the way, he started John's education on firearm safety and marksmanship... and a little bit about gun etiquette. Pulling off 97 into the small township, it only took a minute to park in front of 'Dave's Gun and Pawn'.
"Hello, Chris- where's that... oh... " Greg stopped dead in his tracks-
Terri, daughter of the man who's name graced the shop (who had been dead four years now) stood glaring at Greg.
"I OUGHT TO THROW YOU OUT RIGHT NOW!!!" she bellowed at him, "I HAVE TOLD YOU NOT TO HAGGLE WITH CHRIS, AND I HAVE TOLD HER TO STAND FIRM WITH THE LIKES OF YOU!!! IF YOU WANT THAT GUN, YOU WILL PAY FULL PRICE!!! SHE DOES NOT HAVE THE AUTHORITY TO SAY OTHERWISE!!! ARE WE CLEAR?"
There was a brief moment of surprise, but quickly enough Greg responded with, "Of course, dearheart- I..."
"AND DON'T YOU DEARHEART ME YOU SCOUNDRAL!!! Twelve hundred or it stays!!!"
"Ah... yes... of course... and three boxes of ammo, please,"
"Very well- who's yer friend?"
"John- John Smith, believe it or not... Once I finish the alterations, it will be his gun,"
"You're 'straw dogging' this thing? Do I want to know why?"
"You're transferring it to my FFL- after that, you cannot be held accountable,"
She looked at him warily- "You're a scary, dangerous man, Mr. Howard,"
"So they tell me... so they tell me- but then, we all know why, don't we?"
She continued to look at him while Chris wrote up the sale and finished the transfer paperwork.
"What the hell are you?" she finally asked.
"Just an ordinary gunsmith, Terri- one who pays most of my bills by working in a hospital... nothing more,"

Once back in the car, John commented, "You really have a way with the ladies there,"
"Noticed that, did you? Yea, she's always been a bit ... testy.. with me. Long story, not worthy of concern... and don't pull that thing out of the box- if a cop sees you holding it, he has 'probable cause' to pull us over and can have you arrested for 'brandishing',"

[Warrl]

Reading the pdf...

There's a section starting on page 93 (credited to DinkyInky) where Glytch switches from third person to first person in midstream. If and when a cleanup pass is done, it ought to be one way or the other.

I also think someone needs to study the timeline of this thing. It seems like an unusually large amount of time is being crammed in between mid-October and mid-December; I'd guess three to four months. But I haven't logged all the details to confirm that impression, so I could be mistaken.

After story and story-telling problems (such as the above, any continuity errors anyone spots, sections out of place, et cetera) are dealt with in whatever fashion seems appropriate to the authors, I volunteer to thoroughly copy-edit 50 pages for typos, inappropriate grammar glitches, and the like - which I will point out for the authors to examine. Maybe more than 50 pages if that goes well. If said service is desired.

(Hey! That one sentence was something I tossed in as a joke! Squee!)

[jwhouk]

Reading the pdf...

There's a section starting on page 93 (credited to DinkyInky) where Glytch switches from third person to first person in midstream. If and when a cleanup pass is done, it ought to be one way or the other.

I also think someone needs to study the timeline of this thing. It seems like an unusually large amount of time is being crammed in between mid-October and mid-December; I'd guess three to four months. But I haven't logged all the details to confirm that impression, so I could be mistaken.

After story and story-telling problems (such as the above, any continuity errors anyone spots, sections out of place, et cetera) are dealt with in whatever fashion seems appropriate to the authors, I volunteer to thoroughly copy-edit 50 pages for typos, inappropriate grammar glitches, and the like - which I will point out for the authors to examine. Maybe more than 50 pages if that goes well. If said service is desired.

(Hey! That one sentence was something I tossed in as a joke! Squee!)

You got it. And believe me, you're NOT the only one to notice that we've seemed to cram four months of stuff into seven weeks of time...

[Sgt. Howard]

Reading the pdf...

There's a section starting on page 93 (credited to DinkyInky) where Glytch switches from third person to first person in midstream. If and when a cleanup pass is done, it ought to be one way or the other.

I also think someone needs to study the timeline of this thing. It seems like an unusually large amount of time is being crammed in between mid-October and mid-December; I'd guess three to four months. But I haven't logged all the details to confirm that impression, so I could be mistaken.

After story and story-telling problems (such as the above, any continuity errors anyone spots, sections out of place, et cetera) are dealt with in whatever fashion seems appropriate to the authors, I volunteer to thoroughly copy-edit 50 pages for typos, inappropriate grammar glitches, and the like - which I will point out for the authors to examine. Maybe more than 50 pages if that goes well. If said service is desired.

(Hey! That one sentence was something I tossed in as a joke! Squee!)

You got it. And believe me, you're NOT the only one to notice that we've seemed to cram four months of stuff into seven weeks of time...

There's been more than a little commentary between us authors on that particular issue...

[Just Old Al]

Re: Four months in 7 weeks:

Though if you look at the number of characters and assume some simultaneity it's not impossible...

[jwhouk]

By the way: Minneapolis and Saint Paul are currently getting hit with a snowstorm.

http://hb.511mn.org/#cameras/albumView/ ... rs=cameras

[Sgt. Howard]

On the drive back to the house, John's curiosity got the better of him-
"Why does she consider you dangerous?" he finally asked.
Greg considered the question before he responded- "This county was hip deep in Meth labs when I moved up here from California. People were being poisoned... the land was being poisoned by their cooking... I got in a pissing contest with one of the gangs. At the time, I lived in a house where the water pump was right at the street and nearly a quarter mile from the house. The local meth heads put their mark on the pumphouse to indicate where to meet for transactions. I painted over it. They painted it again. I painted over it. This went on for a while... one night I heard the rattle of the spray can- I took a .22 rifle and shot the can while it was in the asshole's hand. Covered him with paint. They declared war and shot out some of my windows. Then their lab blew up... no warning, just blew up. Killed their cooker. Then another lab blew up... killed THEIR cooker and few of their goons. Meth labs all over the county started blowing up... killing cookers and other miscreants. Drug crime dropped off the map. Robbery nearly came to a standstill. Sheriff's Department thought it was mighty coincidental, them all going up like that,"
"OK... what were you doing?"
"Carb cleaner- rig a can to activate at a critical time... almost pure ether. They breath it in, it nullifies their thinking, they do something stupid... kaboom!... when they find the can, they assume it's part of the process,"
John thought about this for a bit... "Greg, I've been a minor eternity in limbo with a semi- insane fire god... and in truth, I've forgotten a lot about my existence, about the world, about... everything... and yet, I know at a gut level that cops can't really be that stupid... can they?"
Greg drove in silence for a few miles before he spoke-
"John... in 2004, the Sheriff's department of Okanogan County found an illegal crop of Marihuana growing in a blind box canyon.... they decided to burn it on the site, rather than haul it in... four hours later, they called in to dispatch because they could not find their way out of the blind box canyon... probably wanted pizza delivered as well..."
John sat there absorbing this information for about two miles.... then he started to laugh out loud.

By the time they reached Omak, they were both laughing...

[Warrl]

With the size of the cast, the amount of *stuff* going on is not absurd... but I'm looking at the number of *days* and I suspect things don't line up right.

[lake_wrangler]

With the size of the cast, the amount of *stuff* going on is not absurd... but I'm looking at the number of *days* and I suspect things don't line up right.

Maybe the Time Forest is bleeding through...

[Sgt. Howard]

With the size of the cast, the amount of *stuff* going on is not absurd... but I'm looking at the number of *days* and I suspect things don't line up right.

Maybe the Time Forest is bleeding through...

With five writers, it achieved critical mass and was self-sustaining for a time- judicial editing will correct that-

[Sgt. Howard]

Once back at the house, Greg took John into the garage and again studied his hand- then he went over to an old apple bin full of odd chocks of wood. Choosing one, he removed the grips off the smith and traced a pattern of the grip frame onto the flat side in such a way that the front of the grip had little to no wood overhang. He then spent a few more moments with pencil and erasure getting the profile he wanted. From there, the chock of wood went to a band saw where the profile got cut out. Then Greg set a gate on the band saw table and split the chock left and right. Next, he drew the line of the back and bottom of the grip frame onto the inside of each grip blank, using the frame for a guide... he also marked the space taken by the mainspring. From there, it went to the milling machine, one grip at a time, inside up. Greg measured the width of the frame with a caliper, and then cut half that distance into the wood following the outlines he had drawn. He then put the other grip blank in and repeated the process, found the position of the screw hole and moved it back and down, clamped the two pieces together and drilled them, found the necessary hardware and mounted the whole shebang on the gun. There he appraised his work, took it apart and did some fancy work with a set of chisels before putting it back together, again disassembled and this time drilled the blind stud holes in the lower back for the lock pin, re-assembled, tried the grips for solidity.. then finally took them off and shaped them on a belt sanding table. From there, he simply did some hand sanding and mounted them on... then handed the finished product to John.
The oversized grips were nearly twice as long and four times the mass of the originals. It felt a little small even so... but at least it did not feel like a toy and was comfortable to hold. John pointed it out the window, careful to leave his finger free of the trigger.
"Check it," Greg stated- John opened the cylinder and examined the empty chambers.
"Now- close it and try the trigger,"
"But you said... "
"I need to see if you can- that's why I had you check it,"
He closed the action, pointed it again out the window and found the trigger... and pulled it...

The Hammer rose and fell with a snap while the cylinder turned.

"How was that? Was your finger cramped?"
"A little... not bad... I could get used to it,"
"Good- now, let's take this thing out and see how loud it gets,"

[Sgt. Howard]

A mile and a half away from Greg's property, Joyce Bruemmer was out finishing the Winterization of her property down on the flats. Her house was situated directly between Greg's place and the bustling metropolis of Malott (a family run convenience store, a general contractor, a Methodist Church, a post office, a Grange Hall and three failed businesses). Suddenly, an explosion that evoked an "I WANT MY MOMMY" response in all of her horses startled her and rattled her windows. Looking up the hill, she saw the red flag that indicated the range was in use. Another blast sounded, and this time she noted how it echoed down the valley for quite some time.
"DAMN YOU GREG HOWARD!!!" she bellowed as loud as she could.

[GlytchMeister]

I WANT MY MOMMY

Nothin' like some handheld artillery to make everything wake up, pay attention, and fear for their lives.

[Dave]

Heh heh...

[DinkyInky]

Hand cannon!

[FreeFlier]

I believe I know someone with a S&W .500 . . . though he might have just wanted one really badly.

I know he has a .454 Casull, which was interesting to shoot.

--FreeFlier

[GlytchMeister]

"HOOAAH! HAH HAH!" John grinned ear to ear as he took off his earmuffs and listened carefully. "You can still hear the echoes!"
Greg furrowed his brow and frowned. "Somehow, you still have younger ears than mine... All I h-"
"DAMN YOU GREG HOWARD!"
Greg chuckled. "At least I can still hear Joyce... She must be all kinds of angry at me now..."
"I'm amazed she's put up with you this long... I don't think this is the first time you've pissed her off." John cleared the revolver and placed it on the counter. "And it doesn't seem like people around here take too kindly to what we used to do." He leaned up against a post, which creaked in protest. "If I could remember the damn name of my old hometown, I'd tell you to visit and mention my name a few times. You'd probably get a free steak dinner and a free tank of gas, maybe even an ice cream cone and an invitation to a fishing trip."
"I think she might just put up with me because of that." Greg stroked his chin, smirking.
"You're that irritating, huh?"
"You've got room to talk, boy."
"Point."