Just Old Al wrote:
And this is why they sent it to us... Bright young men are all well and good when you don't have to shoot them, but old, sneaky and paranoid is the name of the game when it comes to investigating unknown technology.
Just 'cause yer paranoid doesn't mean they aren't going to be coming to take you away.
Yep - they can try...but we have low friends in high places...
Brilliant!
Yanno how some people have Angels/Devils for a conscience? I have a Dark Elf ShadowKnight and a Half Elf Ranger for mine. The really bad part is when they agree on something.
Sgt. Howard wrote:THIS thing is four anti- gravity pods at 45 degrees off the axis- rather like a quadricopter drone. It is armed, but nobody has yet developed the huevos to pull the trigger and see what happens
And this is why they sent it to us... Bright young men are all well and good when you don't have to shoot them, but old, sneaky and paranoid is the name of the game when it comes to investigating unknown technology.
Just 'cause yer paranoid doesn't mean they aren't going to be coming to take you away.
Paranoids are never lonely . . . because they know they're always the center of attention . . .
"I'm not paranoid . . . the universe is trying to kill me!" -anon
lake_wrangler wrote:Looks like you may remember more than you first let on... And half of those errors can probably be traced back to having a US English keyboard, and an English-based grammar and spell check...
Also, it is a very rare event that anyone would call me "petit" anything...
Axctually, i haven't had to actually write French more than a bit for 30-odd years, so what you're getting is the remains. Spoken i do OK.
I call the man a little cabbage, and he complains about the little...the French are WEIRD.
"The Empire was founded on cups of tea, mate, and if you think I am going to war without one you are sadly mistaken."
lake_wrangler wrote:Looks like you may remember more than you first let on... And half of those errors can probably be traced back to having a US English keyboard, and an English-based grammar and spell check...
Also, it is a very rare event that anyone would call me "petit" anything...
Axctually, i haven't had to actually write French more than a bit for 30-odd years, so what you're getting is the remains. Spoken i do OK.
I call the man a little cabbage, and he complains about the little...the French are WEIRD.
... that's why they are French...
Rule 17 of the Bombay Golf Course- "You shall play the ball where the monkey drops it,"
I speak fluent Limrick-
the Old Sgt.
lake_wrangler wrote:Looks like you may remember more than you first let on... And half of those errors can probably be traced back to having a US English keyboard, and an English-based grammar and spell check...
Also, it is a very rare event that anyone would call me "petit" anything...
Axctually, i haven't had to actually write French more than a bit for 30-odd years, so what you're getting is the remains. Spoken i do OK.
I call the man a little cabbage, and he complains about the little...the French are WEIRD.
A) I'm not French, I'm French-Canadian. More specifically, I am a Québécois. There's a difference. Learn it!
B) I'm not complaining, just finding it amusing that anyone would call me a "small" anything. You must not have seen any photo of me, then...
(Hint: I am no feather-weight...)
C) While calling someone a little cabbage may seem odd, when reading it in English, it is indeed a term of endearment, in French. Mostly used for kids, unless used for adults in a condescending manner. But given that I had just made an appeal to "mom", complaining that the story was finished, the reply was in kind, and most appropriate.
D) If that's "the remains", then you must have had a decent base to start with. Many people wouldn't get that far.
Sgt. Howard wrote:DC-3...Paint it OD green with zebra stripes and the star target, Paint 'Jenny Bell' on the nose... THIS thing is four anti- gravity pods at 45 degrees off the axis- rather like a quadricopter drone. It is armed, but nobody has yet developed the huevos to pull the trigger and see what happens
Hell, paint the DC-3 Olive Drab and you've got a C-47 troop transport/paratrooper. If it wasn't hauling cargo, it was hauling people. And on occasion, those people would jump out mid-air. One hell of a workhorse there. There's a reason they're still flying to this day. Would make an excellent mobile base of operations, under the cover of 'corporate jet'.
Sgt. Howard wrote:DC-3...Paint it OD green with zebra stripes and the star target, Paint 'Jenny Bell' on the nose... THIS thing is four anti- gravity pods at 45 degrees off the axis- rather like a quadricopter drone. It is armed, but nobody has yet developed the huevos to pull the trigger and see what happens
Hell, paint the DC-3 Olive Drab and you've got a C-47 troop transport/paratrooper. If it wasn't hauling cargo, it was hauling people. And on occasion, those people would jump out mid-air. One hell of a workhorse there. There's a reason they're still flying to this day. Would make an excellent mobile base of operations, under the cover of 'corporate jet'.
... uh... yea.. that's what I was alluding to... the 'Zebra stripes' were a identification marking instigated with 'Overlord'... that's 'D- Day'... and no, I didn't jump out of one, I was over Benning in a C-130... You DO know that the control surfaces of the C-47 were fabric covered, right? Had to be re-done every so many thousand hours of flight, considered consumable like brake shoes on a car...
Rule 17 of the Bombay Golf Course- "You shall play the ball where the monkey drops it,"
I speak fluent Limrick-
the Old Sgt.
[quote="Sgt. Howard" and "Shneekey"] 'Zebra stripes' were a identification marking[/quote]
All too true - seen one painted like that and it was gorgeous.
However, if one is going to fly a DST it really needs to be in 1930s Eastern Airlines colours. One of the hybrid later ones with seats in the front and berths in the back. Take people where they want to go overnight and put them down rested and refreshed.
Just Old Al wrote:[quote="Sgt. Howard" and "Shneekey"] 'Zebra stripes' were a identification marking
All too true - seen one painted like that and it was gorgeous.
However, if one is going to fly a DST it really needs to be in 1930s Eastern Airlines colours. One of the hybrid later ones with seats in the front and berths in the back. Take people where they want to go overnight and put them down rested and refreshed.
(BTW: Episodes 1-6 in our little "Expanded Universe" would be Wapsi Me, Visiting Minnesota, The Centurion And The Sphinx, Fearless (The Expanded Version), Another Day At The Works, and 1865 (150 Years Ago).)
"Character is what you are in the dark." - D.L. Moody
"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin
(BTW: Episodes 1-6 in our little "Expanded Universe" would be Wapsi Me, Visiting Minnesota, The Centurion And The Sphinx, Fearless (The Expanded Version), Another Day At The Works, and 1865 (150 Years Ago).)
I excused myself from the fray after dinner had been served at the Alexander household, and wandered into the kitchen.
"Senorita Rosalita," I said, somewhat quietly, poking my head around the corner to where she was beginning to load the serving dishes into the commercial dishwasher/sanitizer that the kitchen held.
She turned and saw it was me - freezing a moment, she grabbed something from her apron before realizing that my face wasn't about to give her sunburn.
"Mister Joseph! What can I do for you?"
"I was wondering if you'd made some of that yummy Tres Leches today?"
"Two of them, Senor - why do you ask?"
"I... I'd like to share one. With someone. For you - for us."
She raised her eyebrow at me, then noticed I was looking at the Rosary she was holding in her hand.
"Ohhhhh..." She smiled.
---
I stepped through the portal and into the Library proper. The place was quiet. I had a brief thought go through my mind - not even a mouse.
I wandered into the stacks, not really headed in any particular direction. My eyes kept searching skyward, as the stacks gave way to the balcony overlooking the Great Hall.
I found myself outside the place where Tina's temporary coffee cart had been placed. There was a cover over the cart, and a sign saying "Reopening in the Twin Cities on Monday - See you there!"
The tables were still set up, with the chairs atop them. I went over to one near the cart itself, and pulled the chairs off the bistro-style table.
I put the bag which Rosalita had given me on the table, then pulled the container out. She had lovingly frosted the top with home-made vanilla creme spread.
"I know this wasn't something that I made," I said to no one in particular as I placed the container in the middle of the table. "Rosalita had been so shaken that last time, I wanted to do something to help soothe her fears."
I looked down at the simple 9x9 pan.
"I know, it's trite. And there were no written records that say exactly when it happened - heh, not even Neil could remember exactly when his birthday was, so he had to guess, too."
I took in a deep breath, then looked up toward the ceiling - which seemed to extend onward into infinity.
"Happy birthday," I said quietly. "And - thank you."
I held my gaze up to the very top reaches of the ceiling of the Great Hall for a moment. I thought perhaps I'd seen a light shine briefly near the top, but it faded shortly after.
I looked back down at the cake, satisfied, and took the bag, walking away and back to the portal.
"Oh, and Nudge - don't even THINK of eating it," I said, almost over my shoulder.
I thought I heard a grunt of dissatisfaction in the background as I headed back to the portal leading to the Alexander estate.
---
Nudge put her hands on her hips with a look of annoyance as she watched him disappear into the exit portal.
"That man is almost as annoying as Nicodemus," she said to herself.
"Not as annoying as you, Trickster," came a voice behind her. The old goat clopped up behind her. "Shalom, Nudge - what brings you over here to Tina's cart?"
Nudge got a twinkle in her eye. "Oh, someone left some cake for you on one of the tables," she said. "I think it's from the Alexanders' Christmas party."
"Oh, yes, that would be today, would it not? I had intended to perhaps drop in and pay my respects, but I had some research to do... A cake, you say? I remember that recipe that Rosalita made for Buck's wedding - it was Mazeltof! So where is this cake you speak of?"
Nudge pointed over to the table by the cart. Nicodemus wandered over, looking on expectantly - then soured.
"What is this, you Trickster?" he said, gesturing at the table. "There is no cake here! Only an empty pan!"
Nudge's eyes went wide. She clopped over to the table herself, only to see exactly what Nicodemus had described - an empty cake pan, with only crumbs left.
Under the pan, sticking out slightly, was a piece of paper. Nudge pulled it out and read it.
The cake was wonderful.
Nicodemus read the note several times after Nudge stormed off, and still could not quite understand what happened.
"Character is what you are in the dark." - D.L. Moody
"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin