Pillsbury + 1 year:

[Warrl]

“You might be correct. My name is Buck Alexander, Miss Damhnait, (she smiled at this, noting the perfect pronunciation of the middle name she used as her surname)

Okay, I gotta ask: what's the correct pronunciation?

[GlytchMeister]

DAV-net, I believe. Or didn't someone mention DEV-naw or something earlier?

[DinkyInky]

“You might be correct. My name is Buck Alexander, Miss Damhnait, (she smiled at this, noting the perfect pronunciation of the middle name she used as her surname)

Okay, I gotta ask: what's the correct pronunciation?

DAV-net, I believe. Or didn't someone mention DEV-naw or something earlier?

Not in public, I didn't, Glytchie.

Damhnait(pronounced Dev-nawt), in addition to being a saints name, also means bard. So Sterling is sainted in her mother's eyes...
The spelling of it, for anyone nosy enough to dig that far to find it(like say, Ocifer Jackwagon), is amusing when people in a position of power or prestige say it wrong.

[GlytchMeister]

Whoops! My memory crossed the streams.

[FreeFlier]

Whoops! My memory crossed the streams.

So did mine, but I didn't say anything when I couldn't find it.

--FreeFlier

[jwhouk]

The Alexander Harvester Timeline

1877 Ebenezer Calvin "Ebbie" Alexander makes port at Fort Snelling, Minnesota. He purchases a tract of land slightly down-river from the Fort, with the intent of farming it to produce goods for the mill upriver in Minneapolis and Saint Anthony.

1879 After two unsuccessful years of planting, Ebbie decides to purchase land on the northeast side of the railway tracks from Saint Anthony (opposite what is now the University of Minnesota's main campus). The building, known internally as "Main Building #1", would be the main offices and assembly plant for Alexander's Harvesters until it burned in a fire in 1951. The same year, Ebbie founds "Alexander's Harvesting and Threshing Manufactory" as a company.

1881 Ebbie establishes a second plant in Minnetonka, Minnesota, along the railway line connecting Saint Paul with the Plains states. The complex, which would become the main home of AHI in the years to come, began with the construction of Building #2. The railway right of way connecting the plant to what is now the BNSF line was converted to the Interstate 494 Twin Cities bypass; the AHI main complex is located at the interchange of I-494 and US 12, Wayzata Boulevard.

At the same time, Ebbie discovers and falls in love with a plot of land on the Northeast side of Lake Independence, in Loreto. Here he constructs the Alexander Estate over a sprawling land area, with room and privacy to roam.

1892 "Alexander's Harvesters" are displayed at the Columbia Exposition in Chicago. The exhibition gives the company its long-time slogan, "We Plow The Earth."

1914 AH produces their first gasoline/diesel powered tractor.

1923 The Theodore Alexander Foundation is formed as a non-profit community benefit association. The Foundation helped create YMCA Camp Iduhapi near the sprawling estate of the Alexander family, north of Maple Plain, Minnesota.

1930 Alexander Harvester becomes AHI with the opening of a factory and assembly plant in Winnipeg, Manitoba.

1951 On the same day that AHI opened its UK branch outside of London, the original Building #1 in Minneapolis burned to the ground. Arson was determined, and a suspect was named – but never arrested, as it was later determined he was killed in the fire.

1953 Lands owned by the Alexander family were sold to the city of Bloomington for the purpose of constructing a sports stadium and arena, ostensibly to attract a major league baseball team to the area. The land sale keeps AHI afloat.

1956 Horace Stoneham and Crawford "Crowbar" Alexander reach an informal deal in July that would result in the Giants moving to the new ballpark in Minneapolis for 1957. A few weeks later, however, Stoneham informs Crowbar that he is instead moving the team to San Francisco, and selling the rights to the Triple-A Millers to Clark Griffith of Washington.

1970 While at a Trade Expo in Las Vegas, "Crowbar" Alexander and his son "Rock" discover that Sean Connery and Broccoli Productions were filming the latest James Bond film, "Diamonds Are Forever", at the Las Vegas Hilton.

1975 Rock Alexander marries Rosalyn Churchill in a private ceremony. A year and a half later, their first son is born: Buck Alexander, the current Chairman of the Board of AHI.

1998 AHI introduces the new Biodiesel-fuel AH8700 tractor and harvester.

2005 AHI introduces the i8900 hybrid-powered tractor and harvester.

2011 The i9000 solar-electric tractor is introduced.

[GlytchMeister]

"Where the hell did that ring go? I know I had it in here somewh-" Glytch paused in his rummaging in the Bag of Tricks as his fingers closed around a USB drive. "Oh? What's this?"
Glytch pulled out the little memory stick and furrowed his brow, glaring at it from under his hood. "Now, what the heck are you?"

Five minutes later, Glytch was looking at a virus he had written during the siege, in preparation for the Battle of Pillsbury. There wasn't enough warning, however, and he never got a chance to activate the virus before the fighting started.

"That's not an explosion... It's lasting too long."

Glytch closed his eyes, letting the memory wash over him.

Looking back one last time to make sure Castela was gone, Glytch drew and arrow and kicked the door open.
The sight was... Beyond Glytch. He couldn't comprehend it entirely. John was... Shrouded. A whirlwind of fire and ash surrounded him. A few enemies tried to punch through, but were ground up and cremated by the razor fire. Within glowed a hot, shifting light... Spitting and roaring and... Laughing. "What the hell?"
Glytch looked around at the rest of the hall... Phix was fighting three Griffins and a... Bat... Thing.
Above, in the rafters, the two elves were arguing with each other between spells and arrows in their own tongue.
And all around the room, his friends... His family, the family he chose... Were fighting desperately for survival or for the survival of their ilk. Monica was grim and terrible - her fire and her claws were hot and fast, and several enemies took one look not at her, but right next to her... And ran away gibbering. Glytch did not want to see what they saw.
Brandi was nearly as frightening - Glytch could have sworn he saw flashes of a black panther where she should have been... The two of them were teleporting around the room constantly, as well as teleporting enemies high up and upside down, letting them fall on their heads. If it wasn't for the screaming, it would have been comical.
Sarge and several others was picking off what targets they could - bullets were quickly becoming ineffective.
Tina was with them, firing her bullets millimeters away from her targets - scaring the bejeezus out of them. Several criminals got free haircuts courtesy of Tina and her rifle.
On high, the centuartillary (Glytch chuckled at his pun) rained down a hail of massive cannon fire, splattering some enemies while simply knocking a tooth loose from others. Whenever an enemy exhibited great durability or capability, their position was called out, sometimes a basic description too; "FAR LEFT CORNER - BIG BLONDE MAN!"
Glytch looked and saw as Brandi teleported directly behind the troublesome enemy and ripped his heart out from behind before poiting it away.

A bullet punched into Glytch's gut - it felt like little more than a solid punch to the gut to him. Another grazed his head, catching on his chainmail...
And putting a big hole in his silk hood.
"DAMNIT!" Twang! Twang!
Glytch got back into action, shooting and moving, running circles around everyone... If he could dodge a Phix, he could dodge a troll... Though the enemies weren't just trolls and humans... No, there were other things... A manticore posed Glytch a particularly vexing problem until he managed to shoot the tail, nailing it to a wall for someone else to deal with. Another creature, this time some sort of slime thing, paid Glytch's arrows no heed... He had to resort to the Puke Ray, which was much more efficient on the slimy being... It puked,then reabsorbed the disgusting pile... Horrified that it had just eaten a pile of its own puke off of a floor, the creature barfed again... Repeating the cycle until they faded into an emaciated figure and fled for their life.

Opening his eyes, Glytch realized the sun outside was visibly lower. He glanced at the clock on the screen... He had lost some time to the memory. He needed to get this under control... Maybe Doctor North might be able to help. His madness, contained as it was, seemed to... Feed off of the Battle.

Shaking his head to clear the remaining cobwebs, Glytch glared at the code for his unused virus, typed a few commands in, and pressed "Enter."

[GlytchMeister]

The virus sped through the networks, infecting, testing, multiplying, and burying into code. Innocent computers were spared due to Glytch's careful filtering code...

But any computer that belonged to a criminal affiliated with the owner of the stubborn hard drive Glytch was originally brought in to crack open... They were all infected, exploiting the inherent holes in their security caused by their use of illegal software and programs. It spread like a plague, waiting until it had a chance to multiply several times before killing its host.

Death came violently for the criminals' computers. The virus gave them all a fatal fever. The CPU was set to over clock as much as was allowed, while the fan and any other coolant systems were turned off. Then, it was a simple matter of telling the computer to calculate the exact value of pi.

Around the country, and frequently in several other countries, computers melted, caught fire, some even exploding. Many dens of scum and villainy burned down as a result of electrical fires.

Law enforcement agencies, arson investigators, white hats and blackhats around the world were baffled by the occurrence. The program was sent through such a roundabout channel, and it was split and reconstituted so many times in so many places before actually infecting Patient Zero, it proved to be untraceable.

Glytch sat back in his chair, grinning wickedly. He felt much better now. After a moment, he decided to work on one of his drawings.

[lake_wrangler]

I'm glad these hacking abilities reside only in the fictional GlytchMeister...

Right?

[GlytchMeister]

I'm glad these hacking abilities reside only in the fictional GlytchMeister...

Right?

...

[Sgt. Howard]

We did? Maytbe that's where I read it.

Oh, that bit about the three-stage marine engines? I thought that was Greg joshing Al...Belle was double acting and single stage.

Just caught this... TRIPLE EXPANSION is what I said... totally non-existent during the Civil War, this was a 1880's development-

Three sets of cylinders, each one with a progressively shorter stroke and larger diameter with the same total displacement- the exhaust of steam from one drives the second- the exhaust of steam from the second drives the third- there's quite a bit of pressure to absorb this way, it allows more torque.
Belle would have been a walking beam two-cylinder double action single stage on Stevenson gear and "D" valve. 30 psi was considered redline... and often exceeded.

I actually have driven a steam locomotive professionally- they are all the same and they are all different

[FreeFlier]

. . . Three sets of cylinders, each one with a progressively shorter stroke and larger diameter with the same total displacement- the exhaust of steam from one drives the second- the exhaust of steam from the second drives the third- there's quite a bit of pressure to absorb this way, it allows more torque.

Also more efficient use of steam, though the engines I'm familiar with used the same stroke and increased the bore because that was simpler to balance. Doubling the cross-section of the bore at each stage was fairly common, IIRC.

Belle would have been a walking beam two-cylinder double action single stage on Stevenson gear and "D" valve. 30 psi was considered redline... and often exceeded.

Which is why sometimes Bad Things(TM) happened . . . . like boiler explosions.

The greatest shipwreck in american history was a boiler explosion.

. . . Ten pounds was all the pressure then - eh eh - a man would drive,
An' here our workin' gauges gi' one hundred sixty five! . . .

--FreeFlier

[GlytchMeister]

Bub scratched his beard, confused. Someone was giving the criminal elements a seriously bad day... John had been missing for over a year. Since his disappearance, the River Rats had been getting more confident with every month the Demon was gone without a trace. They weren't much of a threat back when John was still around, but now with the competition weakened, they had surged to the top of the power structure.
Then, without warning, nearly all of their computers caught fire. Just like that.

The river valley was ablaze, but the town on the hill... Dis, as it was called back when the Demon was still in residence, was safe.

"John, if you're out there, keep doing what you're doing. That just saves us a lot of trouble." Bub shook his head in disbelief. John wouldn't let a little thing like death keep him from keeping his town safe. Of course not.

[Just Old Al]

Just caught this... TRIPLE EXPANSION is what I said... totally non-existent during the Civil War, this was a 1880's development-

Yes, it was. Titanic was triple expansion, which is what amused me when I saw what you wrote initially.

Yesa, Belle would have been walking beam. Very simple, not at all sophisticated, and a horrendous steam user - but quite effective for the level of technology, fits and finishes.

I've worked on such engines.

[jwhouk]

The AHI timeline has been altered to reflect an accurate timeline.

Also - The Wapsi Square Anthology is now available for perusal! Ten short stories set in the WapsiVerse, about characters and stories not quite affecting the main plotline.

[DinkyInky]

AN: Thanks to Al for tweaking the dialogue a smidge...and the phone call.

"Ugh!" Sterling said, stretching before running through her forms. Now that she didn't need to hide, she did the full workout, including her full draw and release forms, seeing both Monica's and Jet's 'associates' watching her. They didn't seem aware that she could see them, so she appraised them while working on draw and release of energy.

"Those jackwagons made me waste how many days again?"

"Between getting busted and dealing with the aftermath, you were down five days."

"FIVE DAYS. What a bloody awful waste. No wonder I was twitching."

"It was long enough anyway," said Monica, rolling her eyes. "You're out now, and while you were recovering, Jet got the news that they completed not only the first dress, but the other three as well.
The students were very glad to get these to be counted by the professors as part of their grade. You were right.
They also loved the fact that while it wasn't a paid gig, they got paid in materials for the whole class for finals, so that's two right.
Ditto the love of using both of you on their professional resumes makes it three."

"They also made a deal for killing all of their social lives until we launch--they get to watch live video feeds of our test runs.
Our friend and resident geek Glytch set it up to be run from this laptop, and he said to have you check the security on it before we set up on the range. The Alexanders are having a mini, which means it's probably massive, area set up for your sparring. Glytch will have cameras set up there too so they can see the practicals. We have professional martial artists willing to wear them, and the team is willing and ready to spot alter them."

Jet handed over a laptop, which she quickly scanned for the secure feeds and raised an eyebrow.

"Hey Monica, what branch did you say he was from again?"

"I think he mentioned Peoria, why?"

"I actually meant military...this clever setup is just a little too familiar."

"Well, you'll get to meet him. I've invited him to live fire," said Jet, grinning.

"He's got this wicked compound bow, and I said he could try to pincushion the samples."

"Oooooh, an Archer. Is it my birthday?

What is the draw on it, do you know?

What about the stave...maybe a recurved compound...ooh, or laminated...no, nobody outside of Asia does those anymore...Wood, Aluminum, Carbon fiber...Mmm...single, dual, quad cam...no, wait, don't tell me. Then there are also the arrows to consider..." Sterling rattled off in a single breath, grinning.

"Down, Tiger!" Jet said through a laugh. "You didn't even ask me if he was cute."

"Don't care. Archer. He's athletic. Strong too.
Prolly has a lean build, most likely a boy scout in his youth...that's where a lot of guys get their start with archery...well, that and some martial artists learn archery, but since you've not voluntold him to wear one of the dresses and then mention it to me, I'd wager he's not...unless you thought of the absolute fit I'd have at you embarrassing him..."

Jet and Monica giggled a little at the thought of their hooded friend in a couture dress - with or without a hood, but Sterling steamrollered on.

"You dislike braggadocio, so he's prolly quiet and well spoken.
He's a nerd, gamer too I bet with this inexpensive, yet beefy new laptop he's made you buy that is convertible to Penguin OS, that's Linux to you two dorks, which would make this thing a beast, but also frugal, just in case some idiot makes slagging it a necessity.
He's practical, because if it doesn't get slagged, it can be set up for you to use again for another live demo, for the investors maybe?
You don't associate with arserags outside of professional functions, luv, so he's gotta be a gentleman.

Cute is so far down the list of what my mind is processing right now, Georgette dear."

Pausing for breath, she said, "I want my car. Gimme Al's number, I'm going to let him know we'll be heading out to collect her soon."

Snagging her phone, Monica punched in Al's number as Sterling opened her Bluetooth.

“Miss Damhnait, I presume?” Al answered his phone, which Caller ID had warned him was Sterling. He knew she’d been sprung by his stepson – what an odd term - and had been expecting the call.

“So, have you been taking care of my baby, and has she behaved for you?”

”Baby? Sorry – not sure what you’re talking about….”

“My CAR, you evil old man!” Sterling laughed – she’d been warned by Buck about Al’s slightly odd sense of humor.

“Harrrumph! I am NOT old, thank you very much. Yes, your car is here. Come down whenever it suits you and get it - she’s ready to go.”

"Right. We'll be off shortly. Thanks much." and clicking her Bluetooth closed, she finished her workout.

Whirling fast, she released all the drawn energy back into the room, being unnecessarily flashy for her audience, scrubbing the air clean as a final move, feeling refreshed and relaxed for the first time since the incident.

[Just Old Al]

AN: Dinky, as always thanks for the dialogue...

The Quad4 purred, with a subtle whining undernote when it was revved and the turbo spooled. John was smugly pleased with himself – the work to remove the manifolds, clean, refit studs and lock the fasteners had gone smoothly. At the same time a few minor issues (chafed hoses and wire braiding) had been dealt with, and the timing, plugs and general condition of the engine checked along with a fluid service.

Al was pleased as well – the car sounded smooth, quiet and was an even more impressive sleeper than it appeared to be with its muted red exterior and blacked-out windows. A good brush-up and wash-up and it would be ready to go back to Sterling.

However, one more thing needed to be done. The door holsters needed to be fitted – and Al had a few particularly sneaky ideas for those.

“John, once you’re done admiring your work – I want the door cards off the front doors. We have a few modifications to make before Miss Damhnait comes to pick her baby up.”

“OK, boss. Going to fit the security boxes?”

“Got it in one. I don’t know why they say you’re dumb.”

Tick…tick…tick…

“Who says I’m dumb?” The old joke passed yet again, and laughing, John started to remove the door cards. Al was ready for him at one of the benches, with a drill and his measuring tools.

The door pocket inserts were carefully removed from the panels, and the openings measured and the contours of the holes plotted on graph paper. The depth available for the weapon pocket was also measured, to allow best use of the available space. With these measurements in hand Al stepped over to the sheet-metal shop and housings to fit were soon sheared from aircraft aluminum sheet. These were carefully TIG welded to provide watertight housings, and a rim to seat them in the panel openings welded on. Welds dressed, they were ready to have their weapons pockets fitted.

Using his own Walther as a model, Al used a 3D CAD package to generate a cradle to fit the interior of the pocket and the outside of the weapon – making it easy to access for quick pick-up. This was carved to shape in poplar on a CAD milling machine, the contours smoothly carved in the acid-free soft wood.

This was then clothed in a layer of closed-cell neoprene, then the neoprene covered in vegetable-tanned leather, the contours fitting snugly enough to the weapon to prevent movement, but loosely enough to be easily removable.

The opposite pocket had a foam insert crafted to take magazines for the Walther and a small cleaning kit – Al hated wasted space, and this way the vehicle’s armament storage was unobtrusive.
The construction done, the boxes were sent across the highway to the AHI anodizing shop for a hard anodized finish along with the requisite payment in choccy biccies.

With John running the errand Al laughed, rubbed his hands together, and said, “Now begins the fun…”

------------------------------------------

“Miss Damhnait, I presume?” Al answered his phone, which Caller ID had warned him was Sterling. He knew she’d been sprung by his stepson – what an odd term…. and had been expecting the call.

“So, have you been taking care of my baby, and has she behaved for you?”

”Baby? Sorry – not sure what you’re talking about….”

“My CAR, you evil old man!” Sterling laughed – she’d been warned by Buck about Al’s slightly odd sense of humor.

“Harrrumph! I am NOT old, thank you very much. Yes, your car is here. Come down whenever it suits you and get it - she’s ready to go.”

"Right. We'll be off shortly. Thanks much." and clicking her Bluetooth closed, she finished her workout.

Soon after, Al heard a *POIT!* and smiled, correctly surmising that the mage and her friends had popped in behind him.

Smiling wickedly, Al yelled to Smokey, "Dudley Damhnait's on her way in - battle stations!", knowing full well she'd heard him.

He was answered by welcoming chuckles, both from his mechanic and the female voices behind him. These were followed by a wickedly accurate imitation of Dudley Do-Right saying, "Always willing to help a citizen in need“, followed by more laughter.

Al turned around to see the trio standing in his shop, grins on their faces."You’re looking splendid, dear. Glad to see the offenses of the local law enforcement didn’t leave any lingering issues. Jet, Monica – good to see you two as well.”

“Sterling’s been twitching over her car – we figured we’d pop in and get that off her list. We’re about ready to start testing, as well – we have a few things to set up and then we’ll set a time.”

“Where’s my Baby? OOOOoooo You're such a lovely girl– she looks so clean! Did you wash her?”

“Washed and a few other things, as well. Let me get you the keys.” Al walked over to the locked keystore, opened it, and extracted Sterling’s car keys. He walked back and decorously handed her the keyring and fob with a small bow. "Milady, your keys.”

Sterling, falling into Al’s obviously playful mood, executed a curtsey and said “Thank you, kind sir!” to the giggles of her friends, and a general sputtering from Al for the 'sir' jab.

“Before you get in, a few things. We took the opportunity to fix the intake manifold issue – it should never give you trouble again.” Al went on to detail the work John had done, carefully giving the mechanic full credit for the flawless execution.

“Start it up – let’s see what you think.”

“Let’s see what it looks like, first.” She unlocked the car, stopped dead, looking quietly, then unlatched the bonnet, opened it, propping it up with the prop rod.

“You’ve done a lot more than just the locks, under here.”

“Yes. All the manifold hardware’s been replaced, a new gasket, the locks and locking nuts to boot. It’ll never come loose again. John also went through her – she seemed due for a fluid service, so he did that up, and dealt with several minor issues that he found as well. All part of the Richer Engineering service. If you want to thank him yourself he’ll be back soon – and I’m sure he’d appreciate it.”

Sterling sat down in the driver’s seat and started the car. The quiet thrum of the Quad-4 with the skirling of the turbo was heard in the shop, with a muted thrum of power from the exhaust.

“Sounds absolutely wonderful – now that’s the way she’s supposed to be. Thank you. Now, are you going to explain what the bloody hell you did to my doors?”

“Doors? OH, you mean the new stereo speakers. John had those from some prototype work that he’d done at GM Canada and figured Baby would be the best place for them.”

He stepped into the door opening and pointed at the angled grills, covered with black speaker cloth. In the center of each was a chrome and red Pontiac logo, offsetting the stark blackness. Partly visible behind the cloth were the three silver disks of piezoelectric tweeters.

“Damnit, Al, I appreciate the speakers, but Baby already had good audio. Anyway, I wished you had talked to me about that first – I really don’t like things done I that I don’t know about.”

“I think you’ll like them. Twist the Pontiac logo.”

Puzzled, Sterling did as she was told, pushing the bottom of the logo forward with her thumb. Obediently, the latch clicked and the “speaker assembly” flipped up under spring tension, showing a leather covered pocket containing her Walther in its welcoming grip.

Sterling’s reaction was gratifying – the SQUEE was nearly supersonic.

“Oh, LUV, What a WONDERFUL bit of trickery!” She closed it again, the lid/speaker assembly clicking into place, held by the latch on its back. Opening and closing it again the glee in Sterling’s face was evident.

“You beautifully sneaky, sneaky man! It's absolutely BRILLIANT!” Looking over on the other side, she leaned over, twisted the logo and the other container opened, showing the cleaning tools and spare magazines.

“You two - come over here! You have to see this – talk about concealed carry!” Sterling demonstrated the pockets for the two – who were suitably impressed.

“Damn, Al, guess you do know what you’re doing with all these toys.” Monica snarked. Jet not-so-gently slapped her in the back of the head, prompting a “What?!” from her partner.

Al smiled, the pleasure Sterling showing making him quite pleased with the amount of work that had gone into them.

”The trick with these is misdirection – make the lids look like anything but. The tweeters do work, but honestly I’d leave them off – they’re not really balanced to the system. Only reason I hooked them up was to make the lids even more invisible.”

“Good point. Is there any way to secure the lids completely?”

“Yes. If you look at the logos there’s a small pin hole just under the top of the logo – in the red part. There are matching titanium pins with jewels on them in the glovebox in a bag – if you screw one of the pins in each they can’t be opened without a crowbar – and the decorative top makes it look like part of the design.”

“The material of the containers themselves is heavy gauge aircraft aluminium that has been anodized for weather resistance, and the lids seal down onto a gasket on top. They’re completely weathertight – not for immersion but nothing that a car will go through should let anything in with your weapon. However, don’t just leave it in there – have it out and oil it periodically just to keep it in top condition. The leather is a reasonably benign surface but nothing is perfect for a lining.”

“Any questions?”

“Yes – what do I owe you for this splendid bit of misdirection?”

Al hesitated – then named a figure.

“STUFF AND NONSENSE!” she roared.

Taken aback, Al sputtered, then said, “I hardly think that’s an overcharge – there was a fair amount of work that went –‘

“Exactly. What absolute rubbish. That is far too low for a bit of work that intricate, never mind all the work John did under the hood. Now, do you want to try this again?”

“No, I do not want to try it again. The price named is the price desired. Considering the grief you got put through I hesitated to charge you at all.”

“Al, that would just not happen. There’s no part of that that was your fault. However, if you are certain that is what you want, that is what I will pay.”

“Let’s go up to the office. I have your paperwork there, and we can have a cup of tea, if that suits you.”

"Tea sounds lovely - and you and I can discuss ths further."

Car closed and locked again, the four trooped up the stairs to the office.

[lake_wrangler]

Splendid bit of writing, as usual. However, I do have to ask:

Code: Select all

[/quote][/quote][/b]

???
(I had to use the "code" tag, just so the quoted text would not close the quote early... )
I'm thinking some leftover stuff from somewhere, which you missed...

[ShneekeyTheLost]

The tannin in the leather from the tanning process will eventually corrode metal if it isn't taken care of, so Al was quite right about pulling it out and giving her a cleaning every once in a while.

[Just Old Al]

The tannin in the leather from the tanning process will eventually corrode metal if it isn't taken care of, so Al was quite right about pulling it out and giving her a cleaning every once in a while.

There is no good material for a liner like that, between abrasion, particulates and every other damn thing, which is why Al went with the leather. Part of the attraction of the leather is that it won't generate too much crap all by itself, where fabrics or felts will.

Alan