"Welp, come on feet..." Sterling said, trudging through the snow.
In very little time, she came to the garage, and saw things were quiet.
"Halloooooo!" she cried.
"I'm looking down, P-P-Pooh." said Jet, smiling weakly.
"Well, you lot feel a bit better. Can't sense much magic from anyone but Miss Monica, but that's due to lack of training. Get it all sorted?"
“Well, yes.” Jet was recovering. “We survived, though there was a serious “BWAH?” moment when you spelled us.
You have to realize, though, that there was nothing I could say – and that I didn’t really have the right to blow your mind the way we thought it would be blown. We had NO idea you were a magic user of any level.”
Monica picked up the conversation. “Jet has gotten used to what I am and can do – we thought you were a normal human – with no idea that you held that kind of power. We should have had some hints, especially in hindsight, but again we couldn’t risk it.”
"Jet, I'm really not angry. I was frustrated you hid that from me while knowing about mine, but then I realized it was not your tale to tell."
Jet nodded soberly. "Yeah, pretty much, though I thought it was all smoke and mirrors mostly, and the longer you were away, the more dream-like it seemed. Still sorry about that...it could have been handled better."
“Monica, I apologize about earlier. I'm sure your reason was made in ignorance, and out of respect for my sanity, unaware I was aware about it. If you like, I'll show you a trick or three later for "covering your magical arse" if you are interested.
That's seriously a huge power dump. With refinement, you could possibly control "takeoff and landings" smoother, as well as increase distance and number of teleports or numbers of persons tagging along.
Monica was intrigued, leaning forward. "Really? Not sure about needing to CYA, but the rest I won't say no to."
Sterling then turned to the older couple, standing there to the side, arms around each other’s waists.
"Look...Miss...ah, Daisy, is it? I'm sorry only for the way I interfered. I hate quarrels, especially about ridiculous things. I won't blame anyone if you decide I am more trouble than it's worth. I did lose my temper and magically assault you on your properties after all."
Daisy smiled, a little weakly. “Sometimes you just need to “be sent to your room” to know what an arse you’ve been. I was stupid, plain and simple, and your interference stopped me before I said and did things that we both would have regretted.”
“I have to confess, you caught us both off guard with your powers – neither of us picked you out as a magic user and when you went off…it got interesting.”
“Indeed. I thought I was dealing with a nice normal gearhead, then you showed us…another side of the coin.” Al grinned, also a little weakly – magic of that level reminded him very strongly of Emerauld and the runes on her hands – and the anger behind them.
“I can only echo what my wife said. Thank you for stopping us before we said things we would regret. We do need to learn to talk.”
“In any case, I would be more than happy to cooperate with you as you wish, both on Jet’s project and the items you wanted for your Pontiac. One of my mechanics is GM trained, and he’d be just the gentleman to do the work on it. I’ll handle the gun safes myself – that’s a nice stretch of the engineering legs.”
"That's...interesting.
The manikins are yours regardless. With as much as you do here in that vein, they will hold up better. I humbly beg forgiveness as well. I...feared a magic quarrel, and those are far worse.”
By your leave, friends, I'll retrieve my car, and let you think on these things."
“Nonsense.”
Sterling stopped, not sure that she’d heard what she thought she had.
“Pardon?”
“Nonsense. You are NOT going to do what magic users do – which is kick over the table, apologize and then run off. I say you are welcome here, as does Daisy” who nodded, completely unforced “and I am sure that the “dorks” agree with me as well.”
“Actually, I want to talk to you about a statement you made while we were..hors de combat. You said I use magic on a daily basis – and I’d been around some serious magic as well. This is a discussion I want to continue…at another time. However, you do not need to leave, nor do we want you to. As a friend...
Please stay.”
"Oh. Hah. Hahahaaaa!! No, you're serious? You thought I was going to..." Sterling laughed for a bit, wiping away tears. "Al, ask Jet. I don't run away from things. I was just going to go out and get a very crazy high protein meal before the adrenaline crash.
Because I don't store magic like most mages, adrenaline crashes are a rather nasty side effect. I could sleep for a couple of days.
One thing my Mom taught me was eating well after stressful encounters. She's...ah, also afraid I'm an empath. I say it doesn't take an empath to put two and two together. She also forgets I took Psych as a minor in college. Anyway, 'Aisle bee Bach'." the last spoken in a very exaggerated impression of a famous actor/politician...not that she thought there was a huge difference between the two jobs.
Pillsbury + 1 year:
Moderators: Bookworm, starkruzr, MrFireDragon, PrettyPrincess, Wapsi
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DinkyInky
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Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:
Yanno how some people have Angels/Devils for a conscience? I have a Dark Elf ShadowKnight and a Half Elf Ranger for mine. The really bad part is when they agree on something.
Aphyon chu kissa whol l'jaed.
--Safyr Drathmir
Aphyon chu kissa whol l'jaed.
--Safyr Drathmir
Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:
So true . . .DinkyInky wrote: . . . the last spoken in a very exaggerated impression of a famous actor/politician...not that she thought there was a huge difference between the two jobs.
--FreeFlier
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Just Old Al
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Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:
With the stress-test dummies stowed, Sterling off in search of a grilled cow with a side of pork and chicken and Jet and Monica poited off the property, Al decided to leave the shop in the hands of Smokey and John once they returned from lunch.
That being said he and Daisy headed home, she in her Bentley, he in the Vanquish.
On his part, there was some thinking to be done.
The prank with the pictures was nothing but that – a prank. Daisy realized how badly she’d messed up, and that was not likely to happen again no matter how silly whatever was in the shop looked. He’d mention the non-disclosure issues (which she would understand very well given her corporate background) and that would be the end of it.
This jealousy, however, was another issue. Even the old bachelor Al was at heart realized this was not a normal level of reaction of a dam with younger fillies in her paddock – there was a deeper problem here.
The only problem is Al couldn’t figure out a way to deal with it. All he could think to do is love her even more – and he wasn’t sure that – or he – could ever be enough to overcome it. This was not a problem that could be overcome with a brace of spanners or a Lee-Enfield – and because of it he felt helpless.
They needed to talk.
-----------------
Ensconced in the cockpit of the Bentley Daisy was flat-out disgusted with herself. WHY the Hades had she reacted like that? Al had never given her the slightest reason to act the way she did – he was a gentleman of the old school – and that didn’t mean a philandering moron.
He was upright, honorable, a right son-of-a-bitch when angry, but never false or duplicitous to anyone but an enemy. She wasn’t his enemy – why didn’t she trust him? What the hell was wrong with her – it wasn’t him. She could drop him in a room full of naked supermodels and other than being terminally embarrassed he’d do nothing but enjoy the show.
She needed to talk to someone – and it wasn’t Al right now.
“Call Lily”
-----------------
Lily met her at the door of Katherine’s place – she’d been waiting to see how the confrontation with Al went. After the conversation Lily and Daisy had had on her way over, she’d made sure Katherine and the kids were out.
“You look like hell. What happened? Was Al that big a bastard about the pictures? It was an honest mistake – well, not taking them but them getting sprayed out like that…”
“No – the problem wasn’t him – it was me. I got stupid. I don’t know what to do – it was insane…I was insane.”
Over the next 20 minutes and a pot of tea Daisy poured her heart out to her ancient friend.
“I know what the problem is – it’s old – and long standing.”
“It can’t be old – you’ve only known Al for a little over a year – and it’s your first anniversary. I don’t get it.”
“It’s my first marriage. Rock was a sweet man – all I could ever ask for in a husband and father. Kind, smart, strong…he was a great husband, leader…you name it.
He did however have an eye for a well-turned buttock. He appreciated the ladies…a little too much. I never caught him at it and don’t know if he ever did – but it was one of the things in our marriage that was a burr. I never felt I could completely trust him.”
“So you think he fooled around on you?”
“No, honestly I don’t think he did. However…the feeling was always there, and no matter how much I told myself it wasn’t true…it was always there.”
“Daisy, I don’t have to tell you this – but Al is not Rock. He’s a lot of kinds of an idiot on different things usually involving sane approaches to technology, but that kind of stupid…no. Would I trust him with my life and my honor – yes. We all have.”
I don’t know how to tell you how to get rid of it, but you have to. He’s not going to be able to take that forever – not that he would do anything stupid – but that’s got to be wearing.”
“I know – but what can I do?”
“Don’t know, Seabiscuit. Not much I can do for you here. Haven’t ever had this problem.”
That being said he and Daisy headed home, she in her Bentley, he in the Vanquish.
On his part, there was some thinking to be done.
The prank with the pictures was nothing but that – a prank. Daisy realized how badly she’d messed up, and that was not likely to happen again no matter how silly whatever was in the shop looked. He’d mention the non-disclosure issues (which she would understand very well given her corporate background) and that would be the end of it.
This jealousy, however, was another issue. Even the old bachelor Al was at heart realized this was not a normal level of reaction of a dam with younger fillies in her paddock – there was a deeper problem here.
The only problem is Al couldn’t figure out a way to deal with it. All he could think to do is love her even more – and he wasn’t sure that – or he – could ever be enough to overcome it. This was not a problem that could be overcome with a brace of spanners or a Lee-Enfield – and because of it he felt helpless.
They needed to talk.
-----------------
Ensconced in the cockpit of the Bentley Daisy was flat-out disgusted with herself. WHY the Hades had she reacted like that? Al had never given her the slightest reason to act the way she did – he was a gentleman of the old school – and that didn’t mean a philandering moron.
He was upright, honorable, a right son-of-a-bitch when angry, but never false or duplicitous to anyone but an enemy. She wasn’t his enemy – why didn’t she trust him? What the hell was wrong with her – it wasn’t him. She could drop him in a room full of naked supermodels and other than being terminally embarrassed he’d do nothing but enjoy the show.
She needed to talk to someone – and it wasn’t Al right now.
“Call Lily”
-----------------
Lily met her at the door of Katherine’s place – she’d been waiting to see how the confrontation with Al went. After the conversation Lily and Daisy had had on her way over, she’d made sure Katherine and the kids were out.
“You look like hell. What happened? Was Al that big a bastard about the pictures? It was an honest mistake – well, not taking them but them getting sprayed out like that…”
“No – the problem wasn’t him – it was me. I got stupid. I don’t know what to do – it was insane…I was insane.”
Over the next 20 minutes and a pot of tea Daisy poured her heart out to her ancient friend.
“I know what the problem is – it’s old – and long standing.”
“It can’t be old – you’ve only known Al for a little over a year – and it’s your first anniversary. I don’t get it.”
“It’s my first marriage. Rock was a sweet man – all I could ever ask for in a husband and father. Kind, smart, strong…he was a great husband, leader…you name it.
He did however have an eye for a well-turned buttock. He appreciated the ladies…a little too much. I never caught him at it and don’t know if he ever did – but it was one of the things in our marriage that was a burr. I never felt I could completely trust him.”
“So you think he fooled around on you?”
“No, honestly I don’t think he did. However…the feeling was always there, and no matter how much I told myself it wasn’t true…it was always there.”
“Daisy, I don’t have to tell you this – but Al is not Rock. He’s a lot of kinds of an idiot on different things usually involving sane approaches to technology, but that kind of stupid…no. Would I trust him with my life and my honor – yes. We all have.”
I don’t know how to tell you how to get rid of it, but you have to. He’s not going to be able to take that forever – not that he would do anything stupid – but that’s got to be wearing.”
“I know – but what can I do?”
“Don’t know, Seabiscuit. Not much I can do for you here. Haven’t ever had this problem.”
Last edited by Just Old Al on Fri Jan 15, 2016 10:06 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"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: Pillsbury + 1 year:
Feeling not particularly better after her talk with Lily, Daisy went back to the house down the shoveled path. Around her the sights and sounds of her home should have been a comfort, but they did little to dispel the sense of foreboding.
Entering the house, she shed her coat and hat, then walked into the main room. Al was where she expected to find him – in front of the fireplace with a mug of tea and a small plate of cookies. He had taken well to domesticity, and was content with a fire, cookies and tea in the evening – and her company.
Her heart melted, and she was angry with herself. This was not a man who was interested in chasing other women – what was wrong with her? Rock was Rock bless his soul and Al was uniquely himself – an old warrior, engineer and utter madman but nothing else.
She sat down next to him on the couch, and slid over to nestle into him. He gladly accepted her intimacy, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. They sat that way for a while, absorbing the warmth from the fire and from each other.
Al started the conversation, the rumble of his voice a comforting feeling in her chest.
“Today was a helluva day, wasn’t it, dear?”
“Yes, it was. Way too crazy.”
“Some of it was…interesting. We do meet the most fascinating people – not like before we got together. Back then, the oddest thing I met were MIB agents. Now, a mage wanders in the door, freezes us, yells at us and stalks off and we don’t even blink. Are all paranormals as lucky as we are?”
“No. We’re kind of lucky that way – I think it’s because of all the apex types we know. Phix, Brandi, Jin…yes…it’s interesting.”
“I need a favor from you, dear. When you get the idea to take a picture of something in the shop, please just check. Today was not a problem – no NDA. I do sometimes do things I can’t disclose.”
“I know. I should understand that considering how much in the way of NDA materials I dealt with when running AHI. I won’t do that again. I’ve been bad on boundaries between RE and AHI and I understand that.”
“Thank you, dear. I appreciate it.”
She waited for him to read her the riot act about the pictures being sent out, or about the green-eyed fit that she had – and he said nothing. The time stretched on…and on…but he was content just to sit and watch the fire. As far as he was concerned, it seemed, the episode was over and done.
Then why the hell did she feel so awful? She almost spoke up, then cowardice froze her tongue to the roof of her mouth. She settled further into his embrace and tried not to cry.
Entering the house, she shed her coat and hat, then walked into the main room. Al was where she expected to find him – in front of the fireplace with a mug of tea and a small plate of cookies. He had taken well to domesticity, and was content with a fire, cookies and tea in the evening – and her company.
Her heart melted, and she was angry with herself. This was not a man who was interested in chasing other women – what was wrong with her? Rock was Rock bless his soul and Al was uniquely himself – an old warrior, engineer and utter madman but nothing else.
She sat down next to him on the couch, and slid over to nestle into him. He gladly accepted her intimacy, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. They sat that way for a while, absorbing the warmth from the fire and from each other.
Al started the conversation, the rumble of his voice a comforting feeling in her chest.
“Today was a helluva day, wasn’t it, dear?”
“Yes, it was. Way too crazy.”
“Some of it was…interesting. We do meet the most fascinating people – not like before we got together. Back then, the oddest thing I met were MIB agents. Now, a mage wanders in the door, freezes us, yells at us and stalks off and we don’t even blink. Are all paranormals as lucky as we are?”
“No. We’re kind of lucky that way – I think it’s because of all the apex types we know. Phix, Brandi, Jin…yes…it’s interesting.”
“I need a favor from you, dear. When you get the idea to take a picture of something in the shop, please just check. Today was not a problem – no NDA. I do sometimes do things I can’t disclose.”
“I know. I should understand that considering how much in the way of NDA materials I dealt with when running AHI. I won’t do that again. I’ve been bad on boundaries between RE and AHI and I understand that.”
“Thank you, dear. I appreciate it.”
She waited for him to read her the riot act about the pictures being sent out, or about the green-eyed fit that she had – and he said nothing. The time stretched on…and on…but he was content just to sit and watch the fire. As far as he was concerned, it seemed, the episode was over and done.
Then why the hell did she feel so awful? She almost spoke up, then cowardice froze her tongue to the roof of her mouth. She settled further into his embrace and tried not to cry.
"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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DinkyInky
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Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:
Driving towards that barbecue haunt she saw leaving the Grand, Sterling began to think.
"That...certainly was an...uncommon reaction. I think it might be a bit of fun to work with him...if his mate would calm down. Something tells me that is not typical of her, but I can't wave some magic wand to make her see it."
Pulling in, she walked in and finding a seat, sat down and ordered.
"I'll take a platter of pork ribs and a plate of brisket, let's skip the bread..."
and as an afterthought, "...I'll also take an order of catfish bites, minus the fake and not spicy wasabi crap, and a 5th avenue Red Velvet."
"Coming right up."
In no time at all, he was bringing a very large tray full of yummy smoked goodness and dessert when...
A greasy voice slithered just behind her.
"Damn, girl! Shouldn't you have a skinny salad? The portions are rather...large...unless you like them that way."
"If I had wanted rabbit food, I'd have gone to a raw bar. I'm just waiting for you to move, so go beaver someone who really builds a dam. "
"Hey baby, I'm just trying to be friendly, and you're not cooperating."
"Look chum, I have had a really bad day. Do you really want to push your luck, mate?"
"I guess so. Does this mean I get lucky?" as a hand snaked over her shoulder.
"Yeah," she replied, reaching up and grabbing his arm, then throwing him over her shoulder and slamming him into the table, the stunned waiter taking her food back to the back. (Noooo!)
"You're lucky I didn't break your arm. Next time I won't be so friendly. And if you pull either the knife or the pistol, you'll be dead, because then I won't hold back."
Raising her gloved hand, she caught the knife whistling towards her head.
"Really?" she said, rising and pivoting slightly so both idiots were in view.
"If you throw the next one, this one will hit you before it reaches me." Sterling replied matter-of-factly.
"Are you gonna use some ninja crap?" said idiot one, before she knocked him unconscious.
"No, it's far worse."
Idiot two never saw her coming before he too decided to take a nap.
Touching her bluetooth, that had miraculously stayed on amongst the insanity of the day, and said, "Cuchi-cuchi".
"Hi, you feeling better?"
"Funny thing. Yanno what? Nevermind. Get over here to Market bbq. Yeah, that one. I'm about to beat two hooligans more than senseless if you don't. Call for backup. I'm either going to get fed, or visit the greybar motel."
"That...certainly was an...uncommon reaction. I think it might be a bit of fun to work with him...if his mate would calm down. Something tells me that is not typical of her, but I can't wave some magic wand to make her see it."
Pulling in, she walked in and finding a seat, sat down and ordered.
"I'll take a platter of pork ribs and a plate of brisket, let's skip the bread..."
and as an afterthought, "...I'll also take an order of catfish bites, minus the fake and not spicy wasabi crap, and a 5th avenue Red Velvet."
"Coming right up."
In no time at all, he was bringing a very large tray full of yummy smoked goodness and dessert when...
A greasy voice slithered just behind her.
"Damn, girl! Shouldn't you have a skinny salad? The portions are rather...large...unless you like them that way."
"If I had wanted rabbit food, I'd have gone to a raw bar. I'm just waiting for you to move, so go beaver someone who really builds a dam. "
"Hey baby, I'm just trying to be friendly, and you're not cooperating."
"Look chum, I have had a really bad day. Do you really want to push your luck, mate?"
"I guess so. Does this mean I get lucky?" as a hand snaked over her shoulder.
"Yeah," she replied, reaching up and grabbing his arm, then throwing him over her shoulder and slamming him into the table, the stunned waiter taking her food back to the back. (Noooo!)
"You're lucky I didn't break your arm. Next time I won't be so friendly. And if you pull either the knife or the pistol, you'll be dead, because then I won't hold back."
Raising her gloved hand, she caught the knife whistling towards her head.
"Really?" she said, rising and pivoting slightly so both idiots were in view.
"If you throw the next one, this one will hit you before it reaches me." Sterling replied matter-of-factly.
"Are you gonna use some ninja crap?" said idiot one, before she knocked him unconscious.
"No, it's far worse."
Idiot two never saw her coming before he too decided to take a nap.
Touching her bluetooth, that had miraculously stayed on amongst the insanity of the day, and said, "Cuchi-cuchi".
"Hi, you feeling better?"
"Funny thing. Yanno what? Nevermind. Get over here to Market bbq. Yeah, that one. I'm about to beat two hooligans more than senseless if you don't. Call for backup. I'm either going to get fed, or visit the greybar motel."
Yanno how some people have Angels/Devils for a conscience? I have a Dark Elf ShadowKnight and a Half Elf Ranger for mine. The really bad part is when they agree on something.
Aphyon chu kissa whol l'jaed.
--Safyr Drathmir
Aphyon chu kissa whol l'jaed.
--Safyr Drathmir
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DinkyInky
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Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:
Sterling, standing over the two prone troublemakers, was waiting. If she didn't get to eat soon, there would be backlash. She couldn't afford to sleep for days.
The resulting *POIT* she felt eased her mind a bit.
"Hey, how are you? Got what you asked me to bring..."
"Sit far away. Dumb and dumber here are both packing."
Taking the packet from Monica, she quickly secured their hands shackle style, then to each other, and then bound only one of each foot...the opposite one.
"Pink and fuzzy...cute. I see you decided to not get the Ty-Raps from my case."
"This was quicker...and...more appropriate."
"Now, while I do have them secured, I cannot guarantee rabid stupidity will not happen. I am not touching those," she said, pointing out all the weapons, "...so no one can accuse me of more than some "fancy ninja trix."
The waiter brought out Sterling's food, and a drink for Monica. While eating, two squad cars pulled up. Out stepped four of Minneapolis’ finest – none of which was particularly the top of the officerial food chain.
The officers entered the restaurant, looking from side to side for the source of the disturbance – and were shocked to see the two bodies on the floor restrained with pink furry bondage handcuffs, and the two ladies having lunch over in the other corner.
One officer came over to talk to the seated pair, while the other three went to deal with the secured individuals on the floor.
As he approached, the officer identified himself, trying and failing to project a Jack Webb-ish feel of solidity. “I am Officer Obi. We had a report of a disturbance called in to the station by a” he consulted a notebook “Monica Vill-uh-real.” Would either of you be that individual?”
“Yes, I am, officer, but I just phoned it in. The individual assaulted is Sterling D. – this lady.”
The officer turned his attention to Sterling, who was still sitting there shoveling for all she was worth to offset the adrenaline shock she was riding for.
“Ma’am” *twitch* “can you tell us what happened here?” He gestured at the floor where the other three officers were collecting the weapons the unconscious pair were littered with and replacing the pink furry handcuffs with proper officerial restraints in preparation to removing them.
"I just came in to eat. I am here on a working holiday. These two hooligans interrupted my meal, this one touched me...inappropriately after being warned off twice. I threw him over my shoulder. I knocked him out after he signed to this guy."
“Do you have any corroborating evidence to back up your part of this…story?” The cop was taking notes, obviously not believing a word of the tale of this young woman flattening these two…citizens.
"This one threw this at my head," showing the knife. "It is poisoned, don’t touch it. Yes, the knife is called a diamondback. The wrap is snakeskin. Blade is coated. Hooligan ruined my new driving gloves. After he threw it, and moved to do so again with another, I put him in a chokehold until he took a nap. I then secured them...tight enough to not escape, loose enough to not be cruel."
“Ma’am *twitch* we take assault very seriously here in Minneapolis. You have just admitted to assault on these individuals, and strangling one of them until he became unconscious. We have no evidence of your story that they began the altercation. Again, were there any witnesses to the events at the beginning of this altercation?”
"Bloody stupidity. Can you not smell how drugged they are? They are oozing that stink from everywhere. Intoxicated too. Look, those workers back there are scared. I am not a local, so I called my friend to call the authorities. I could not leave these two for even a second. She arrived seconds before you did. She thought I had gotten food and gone back to my hotel."
Obi was obviously not buying it, even having been provided the knife and the ruined gloves as evidence. “Ma’am, I’m afraid that you are going to need to come with us to the police station until we can corroborate your story.”
"Okay, just let me pay and tip the lovely folks for trying to feed me. Monica, here are the keys and key card. Looks like I am going for a ride. Can you pack that up and take it to the room?"
“Hold it one damn second.” Monica was beyond annoyed – this was ludicrous. “This lady was assaulted by those two morons – and you’re ARRESTING HER? What kind of nonsense IS this?”
“The lady is not being arrested, ma’am. We just need to correlate the stories here, and that is not going to happen till the other involved parties are treated at the hospital. At a minimum, there is a serious question of assault here against these two individuals that has to be answered for.”
“Where are you taking her?”
“She’ll be taken to the First Precinct on 4th Street.”
“OK, it’s lawyer time. Let me round up the troops and I’ll meet you there.”
With that, Sterling was escorted out to one of the police cruisers by two of the officers, while the others waited for EMTs to deal with the remains of the brawl.
Monica reached for her phone and started punching numbers. Putting it to her ear, she said, “Yeah, it’s me. Red alert. Sterling just got busted for clocking and locking two morons who assaulted her while she was trying to have dinner. Call out the lawyers.”
******************
"No officer, I guarantee you I am not, 'yanking your chain'. I do not have the keys. I handed everything but my car keyfob and hotel keycard to you on surrender. You must have misplaced them."
Sterling was amused. She knew damn well Monica still had the keys, but after not being allowed to eat, or make a phone call, she was offering nothing. Unless someone else assaulted her, she was going to let nature run it's course. She had, an hour, tops, then goodnight Gracie.
Adding insult to injury, they printed her, ran her information(which of course was still classified unless you were Bureau or Military), tried to unlock her phone, which popped up a razzie smiley face for the trouble. They stuck her in an orange jumpsuit, despite being told she was only being questioned. She already knew those two idiots were awake, she heard one of the others say it, and that she just needed to "sweat it out".
"They'll be sweating it out in one hour," she thought wearily, and sat in a lotus position, back leaning against the wall to prevent injuries, breathing slowly and deeply to conserve energy.
The resulting *POIT* she felt eased her mind a bit.
"Hey, how are you? Got what you asked me to bring..."
"Sit far away. Dumb and dumber here are both packing."
Taking the packet from Monica, she quickly secured their hands shackle style, then to each other, and then bound only one of each foot...the opposite one.
"Pink and fuzzy...cute. I see you decided to not get the Ty-Raps from my case."
"This was quicker...and...more appropriate."
"Now, while I do have them secured, I cannot guarantee rabid stupidity will not happen. I am not touching those," she said, pointing out all the weapons, "...so no one can accuse me of more than some "fancy ninja trix."
The waiter brought out Sterling's food, and a drink for Monica. While eating, two squad cars pulled up. Out stepped four of Minneapolis’ finest – none of which was particularly the top of the officerial food chain.
The officers entered the restaurant, looking from side to side for the source of the disturbance – and were shocked to see the two bodies on the floor restrained with pink furry bondage handcuffs, and the two ladies having lunch over in the other corner.
One officer came over to talk to the seated pair, while the other three went to deal with the secured individuals on the floor.
As he approached, the officer identified himself, trying and failing to project a Jack Webb-ish feel of solidity. “I am Officer Obi. We had a report of a disturbance called in to the station by a” he consulted a notebook “Monica Vill-uh-real.” Would either of you be that individual?”
“Yes, I am, officer, but I just phoned it in. The individual assaulted is Sterling D. – this lady.”
The officer turned his attention to Sterling, who was still sitting there shoveling for all she was worth to offset the adrenaline shock she was riding for.
“Ma’am” *twitch* “can you tell us what happened here?” He gestured at the floor where the other three officers were collecting the weapons the unconscious pair were littered with and replacing the pink furry handcuffs with proper officerial restraints in preparation to removing them.
"I just came in to eat. I am here on a working holiday. These two hooligans interrupted my meal, this one touched me...inappropriately after being warned off twice. I threw him over my shoulder. I knocked him out after he signed to this guy."
“Do you have any corroborating evidence to back up your part of this…story?” The cop was taking notes, obviously not believing a word of the tale of this young woman flattening these two…citizens.
"This one threw this at my head," showing the knife. "It is poisoned, don’t touch it. Yes, the knife is called a diamondback. The wrap is snakeskin. Blade is coated. Hooligan ruined my new driving gloves. After he threw it, and moved to do so again with another, I put him in a chokehold until he took a nap. I then secured them...tight enough to not escape, loose enough to not be cruel."
“Ma’am *twitch* we take assault very seriously here in Minneapolis. You have just admitted to assault on these individuals, and strangling one of them until he became unconscious. We have no evidence of your story that they began the altercation. Again, were there any witnesses to the events at the beginning of this altercation?”
"Bloody stupidity. Can you not smell how drugged they are? They are oozing that stink from everywhere. Intoxicated too. Look, those workers back there are scared. I am not a local, so I called my friend to call the authorities. I could not leave these two for even a second. She arrived seconds before you did. She thought I had gotten food and gone back to my hotel."
Obi was obviously not buying it, even having been provided the knife and the ruined gloves as evidence. “Ma’am, I’m afraid that you are going to need to come with us to the police station until we can corroborate your story.”
"Okay, just let me pay and tip the lovely folks for trying to feed me. Monica, here are the keys and key card. Looks like I am going for a ride. Can you pack that up and take it to the room?"
“Hold it one damn second.” Monica was beyond annoyed – this was ludicrous. “This lady was assaulted by those two morons – and you’re ARRESTING HER? What kind of nonsense IS this?”
“The lady is not being arrested, ma’am. We just need to correlate the stories here, and that is not going to happen till the other involved parties are treated at the hospital. At a minimum, there is a serious question of assault here against these two individuals that has to be answered for.”
“Where are you taking her?”
“She’ll be taken to the First Precinct on 4th Street.”
“OK, it’s lawyer time. Let me round up the troops and I’ll meet you there.”
With that, Sterling was escorted out to one of the police cruisers by two of the officers, while the others waited for EMTs to deal with the remains of the brawl.
Monica reached for her phone and started punching numbers. Putting it to her ear, she said, “Yeah, it’s me. Red alert. Sterling just got busted for clocking and locking two morons who assaulted her while she was trying to have dinner. Call out the lawyers.”
******************
"No officer, I guarantee you I am not, 'yanking your chain'. I do not have the keys. I handed everything but my car keyfob and hotel keycard to you on surrender. You must have misplaced them."
Sterling was amused. She knew damn well Monica still had the keys, but after not being allowed to eat, or make a phone call, she was offering nothing. Unless someone else assaulted her, she was going to let nature run it's course. She had, an hour, tops, then goodnight Gracie.
Adding insult to injury, they printed her, ran her information(which of course was still classified unless you were Bureau or Military), tried to unlock her phone, which popped up a razzie smiley face for the trouble. They stuck her in an orange jumpsuit, despite being told she was only being questioned. She already knew those two idiots were awake, she heard one of the others say it, and that she just needed to "sweat it out".
"They'll be sweating it out in one hour," she thought wearily, and sat in a lotus position, back leaning against the wall to prevent injuries, breathing slowly and deeply to conserve energy.
Yanno how some people have Angels/Devils for a conscience? I have a Dark Elf ShadowKnight and a Half Elf Ranger for mine. The really bad part is when they agree on something.
Aphyon chu kissa whol l'jaed.
--Safyr Drathmir
Aphyon chu kissa whol l'jaed.
--Safyr Drathmir
-
jwhouk
- Posts: 6053
- Joined: Wed Aug 01, 2012 7:58 am
- Location: The Valley of the Sun, Arizona
- Contact:
Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:
Gee, that was fast...
"Character is what you are in the dark." - D.L. Moody
"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin
"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin
-
DinkyInky
- Posts: 2382
- Joined: Tue Jul 31, 2012 9:38 am
- Location: Where there's more than Corn.
- Contact:
Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:
"So, what do you think folks? Still interested in being part of the experience? Your professor thinks you are the best of the best. I have made sure this will count towards your grade as part of "Learning to work with others designs", though only the professors that sign the NDC will be able to see it." Jet said, pitching the idea.
"The NDC, of course, is a formality, but just until we are ready to announce it. I am not permitted to pay you outright for your work...yet.
However, I will be giving a check to your professors for your classes budgets towards materials for your finals, and you can use me and my associate as working references after you graduate. Any questions?"
One guy raised his hand after looking at his classmates.
"Yes?" Jet said, smiling.
"When can we start?"
"The NDC, of course, is a formality, but just until we are ready to announce it. I am not permitted to pay you outright for your work...yet.
However, I will be giving a check to your professors for your classes budgets towards materials for your finals, and you can use me and my associate as working references after you graduate. Any questions?"
One guy raised his hand after looking at his classmates.
"Yes?" Jet said, smiling.
"When can we start?"
Yanno how some people have Angels/Devils for a conscience? I have a Dark Elf ShadowKnight and a Half Elf Ranger for mine. The really bad part is when they agree on something.
Aphyon chu kissa whol l'jaed.
--Safyr Drathmir
Aphyon chu kissa whol l'jaed.
--Safyr Drathmir
-
Sgt. Howard
- Posts: 3394
- Joined: Tue Jul 31, 2012 11:54 pm
- Location: Malott, Washington
Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:
OK... right address?
Monica immediately contacted Billens and filled him in- Billens contacted Pratt- Pratt contacted McBride, then contacted Buck. In the meanwhile, Monica then wondered about Sterling's need for meat, remembering the warnings she hinted at before she left- she knew that Emerauld would know the particulars and that SHE was at the Alexander-Richer estate.
She called the house- Edward picked up the line. He handed the phone to Al... Al brought Emerauld into the house. By now, another half-hour had passed. Emerauld quickly filled her in on the particulars of Sterling's condition and what it might mean- with THAT, Monica AGAIN called Billens, who AGAIN called Pratt, who AGAIN called McBride and Buck
Police Captain Judd Thompson was NOT having a good day- the little doxie picked up for prostitution last night proved to be a councilman's daughter doing tricks to pay for her cocaine habit, the three car thieves got sprung by a crooked judge out of Minnetonka without bail, several picketers of the BLM movement were still floating around outside (in SPITE of the terrible blow delivered to that organization) and the coffee machine finally gave up the ghost leaving the whole precinct at the mercy of the local Starbucks.
Just when he thought things couldn't get worse, he was given information that a suspect in his custody had gone into coma... and what was worse, she had been brought in for assault while claiming self-defense. Information seeping into the department regarding this was rather ambivalent at best- the officers who conducted this claimed there were no witnesses and the two victims were both still out cold.
Enter Theodore Alexander the IV, Esquire, in the company of Billens, Pratt and McBride- the day now has been completely destroyed.
"Hey Judd- this is becoming a habit all of a sudden," Pratt jauntily offered.
"Nice office here- one of your perps do the décor?" McBride asked.
"Ladies," came the stern tone of Billens, "that's enough- we're here on business,"
"I am to understand you have in custody one Sterling Damhnait?" asked Buck, " May I speak with her?"
"You are her Attorney?" ("perfect... just... perfect..." he thought to himself)- "... and... how did she contact you?"
Buck put his face right up to Judd's in a threatening manner- "We don't have time for games, here- she's comatose right now, unless I miss my guess- and you have no means of figuring out why... am I correct?"
Judd's face lost color rapidly.
"I will take that as a 'yes'- her two... 'victims'... both have extensive rap sheets for sexual assault, which you would have been aware of had you bothered to check- they are prohibited by the court from having contact with each other as a condition of their probation- again, information you had access to,"
"Here is a partial from your own records on 'victim' Bernard Henderson, " Pratt shoved a sheaf of papers onto Judd's desk, "fourteen counts of attempted sexual assault, three of sexual assault- all dropped because of witnesses dropping charges- there's strong evidence of witness intimidation but nothing proven, so he got off scott free every time,"
"Victim Eddy Mathewson has five dropped statutory rape cases and one pending," McBride added, "and that's just what happened in your precinct. Billens has sent to other law enforcement agencies and the stuff keeps piling in- including a description fit in about eight sexual assault cases- there are four states that want extradition and one wants a DNA sample,"
Buck continued, " We have a signed statement from one waiter who denied seeing anything out of fear of retaliation- it seems these boys play rough- and he corroborates everything that Miss D. told your officers,"
"How- how is it you- you know what she- what she told my officers?" stammered Judd.
"The same witness also heard the conversation and was astounded at the actions taken by your officers- as was a Miss Monica Villarreal, who's name was never mentioned in the report... sloppy work there, by the way... now as it stands, Miss Damhnait suffers from a rather rare medical condition that treats cholesterols and proteins the same way diabetes treats sugar- which is why your medical types have no clue what is going on,"
Judd slumped back in his chair- he was ready to hand over his badge and work at a Les Schwab as a tire knocker.
"Can I safely assume that Miss Damhnait is still alive?"
Numbly, Judd nodded.
"Will there be any interference should I get a medical team to transfer her to a proper facility?"
He shook his head and started writing the necessary orders. Once finished, he handed the paperwork to Buck, acting like a man in a trance.
"Excellent- once Miss Damhnait recovers... assuming we're not too late (here he gave Judd a stern look)... she and I will discuss further actions regarding this incident. Your co-operation in this matter will provide for ... some... leniency regarding your involvement, but I cannot guarantee how much. Should she die- well, a lot of that depends on whether or not her surviving family wishes to press criminal charges in the matter I suppose, in which case I have little say if any. Thank you for your time," and with that, Buck and company turned one by one and strode out to the main desk where Miss Damhnait's release paperwork could be brought to function. Last out the door was Billens- he turned just before exiting and said,
"You ever consider selling insurance?"
Judd Thompson sat stunned for quite a spell at his desk- any hope he ever had of an honorable retirement from the force just went up in smoke. He knew there were problems in the precinct, he knew that performance was substandard in many cases... but he did nothing. He did nothing because that might have upset his soft little job, might make enemies in City hall, might mark him as a troublemaker screaming for more money and attention.
It also might have made him the one who rooted out the trouble... unfortunately, it was only now that he understood this.
Finally, deliberately, he pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and started writing his resignation from the force...
Monica immediately contacted Billens and filled him in- Billens contacted Pratt- Pratt contacted McBride, then contacted Buck. In the meanwhile, Monica then wondered about Sterling's need for meat, remembering the warnings she hinted at before she left- she knew that Emerauld would know the particulars and that SHE was at the Alexander-Richer estate.
She called the house- Edward picked up the line. He handed the phone to Al... Al brought Emerauld into the house. By now, another half-hour had passed. Emerauld quickly filled her in on the particulars of Sterling's condition and what it might mean- with THAT, Monica AGAIN called Billens, who AGAIN called Pratt, who AGAIN called McBride and Buck
Police Captain Judd Thompson was NOT having a good day- the little doxie picked up for prostitution last night proved to be a councilman's daughter doing tricks to pay for her cocaine habit, the three car thieves got sprung by a crooked judge out of Minnetonka without bail, several picketers of the BLM movement were still floating around outside (in SPITE of the terrible blow delivered to that organization) and the coffee machine finally gave up the ghost leaving the whole precinct at the mercy of the local Starbucks.
Just when he thought things couldn't get worse, he was given information that a suspect in his custody had gone into coma... and what was worse, she had been brought in for assault while claiming self-defense. Information seeping into the department regarding this was rather ambivalent at best- the officers who conducted this claimed there were no witnesses and the two victims were both still out cold.
Enter Theodore Alexander the IV, Esquire, in the company of Billens, Pratt and McBride- the day now has been completely destroyed.
"Hey Judd- this is becoming a habit all of a sudden," Pratt jauntily offered.
"Nice office here- one of your perps do the décor?" McBride asked.
"Ladies," came the stern tone of Billens, "that's enough- we're here on business,"
"I am to understand you have in custody one Sterling Damhnait?" asked Buck, " May I speak with her?"
"You are her Attorney?" ("perfect... just... perfect..." he thought to himself)- "... and... how did she contact you?"
Buck put his face right up to Judd's in a threatening manner- "We don't have time for games, here- she's comatose right now, unless I miss my guess- and you have no means of figuring out why... am I correct?"
Judd's face lost color rapidly.
"I will take that as a 'yes'- her two... 'victims'... both have extensive rap sheets for sexual assault, which you would have been aware of had you bothered to check- they are prohibited by the court from having contact with each other as a condition of their probation- again, information you had access to,"
"Here is a partial from your own records on 'victim' Bernard Henderson, " Pratt shoved a sheaf of papers onto Judd's desk, "fourteen counts of attempted sexual assault, three of sexual assault- all dropped because of witnesses dropping charges- there's strong evidence of witness intimidation but nothing proven, so he got off scott free every time,"
"Victim Eddy Mathewson has five dropped statutory rape cases and one pending," McBride added, "and that's just what happened in your precinct. Billens has sent to other law enforcement agencies and the stuff keeps piling in- including a description fit in about eight sexual assault cases- there are four states that want extradition and one wants a DNA sample,"
Buck continued, " We have a signed statement from one waiter who denied seeing anything out of fear of retaliation- it seems these boys play rough- and he corroborates everything that Miss D. told your officers,"
"How- how is it you- you know what she- what she told my officers?" stammered Judd.
"The same witness also heard the conversation and was astounded at the actions taken by your officers- as was a Miss Monica Villarreal, who's name was never mentioned in the report... sloppy work there, by the way... now as it stands, Miss Damhnait suffers from a rather rare medical condition that treats cholesterols and proteins the same way diabetes treats sugar- which is why your medical types have no clue what is going on,"
Judd slumped back in his chair- he was ready to hand over his badge and work at a Les Schwab as a tire knocker.
"Can I safely assume that Miss Damhnait is still alive?"
Numbly, Judd nodded.
"Will there be any interference should I get a medical team to transfer her to a proper facility?"
He shook his head and started writing the necessary orders. Once finished, he handed the paperwork to Buck, acting like a man in a trance.
"Excellent- once Miss Damhnait recovers... assuming we're not too late (here he gave Judd a stern look)... she and I will discuss further actions regarding this incident. Your co-operation in this matter will provide for ... some... leniency regarding your involvement, but I cannot guarantee how much. Should she die- well, a lot of that depends on whether or not her surviving family wishes to press criminal charges in the matter I suppose, in which case I have little say if any. Thank you for your time," and with that, Buck and company turned one by one and strode out to the main desk where Miss Damhnait's release paperwork could be brought to function. Last out the door was Billens- he turned just before exiting and said,
"You ever consider selling insurance?"
Judd Thompson sat stunned for quite a spell at his desk- any hope he ever had of an honorable retirement from the force just went up in smoke. He knew there were problems in the precinct, he knew that performance was substandard in many cases... but he did nothing. He did nothing because that might have upset his soft little job, might make enemies in City hall, might mark him as a troublemaker screaming for more money and attention.
It also might have made him the one who rooted out the trouble... unfortunately, it was only now that he understood this.
Finally, deliberately, he pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and started writing his resignation from the force...
Rule 17 of the Bombay Golf Course- "You shall play the ball where the monkey drops it,"
I speak fluent Limrick-
the Old Sgt.
I speak fluent Limrick-
the Old Sgt.
-
jwhouk
- Posts: 6053
- Joined: Wed Aug 01, 2012 7:58 am
- Location: The Valley of the Sun, Arizona
- Contact:
Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:
ALEXANDER HARVESTER INTERNATIONAL
A Brief History
Taken from http://www.alexanderharvester.com
And now, a short history of the third largest manufacturer of farm implements in the world:
For those of you who didn't follow the story about Ebenezer Calvin "Ebbie" Alexander elsewhere, the Pinkerton detective cum riverboat magnate attempted to ply his trade along the mighty Mississippi after the Civil War. Unfortunately, his Queen City Belle was not well equipped for the larger, more competitive market of the Big Muddy.
Sensing it may be time for him to consider other avenues of business opportunity, he began a long jaunt up river to the mill town of Minneapolis. Setting port at Fort Snelling, at the confluence of the Minnesota and Mississippi Rivers, he immediately sought out some way to turn his engineering acumen into a living.
It was completely accidental that he came upon the idea of farm implements. He had worked briefly for Charles Pillsbury and his family, helping to assemble his milling business up river at Saint Anthony. Pillsbury had made comment to him that his wheat providers were having problems with production; Ebbie developed a plowing system that was based on his platform screw-driven propulsion system for his beloved Belle – and the rest, as they say, is AHI history.
The original plow, used by a team of five centaurs (plus one "driver") is still on display at the Alexander Harvester Headquarters Building in Minnetonka. The ubiquitous white-with-blue-stripes of Alexander Harvester equipment was a throwback to Ebbie's riverboat – which was decked out in the same colors as he pulled into Fort Snelling in the 1870's. It's suggested that the AHI color scheme may have been influenced by the colors of the flour and river that his machines helped produce.
Ebbie's first construction plant was located on the north side of the railway yards, along Como Avenue in what was then Saint Anothony. (Minneapolis would later merge with the smaller municipality.) Building Number 2, built in 1916 – produced plows, harvesting equipment, and tractors of all shapes and sizes until January of 1951.
Crawford Bartholomew "Crowbar" Alexander had taken his grandfather's business international, opening the first AH plant in the United Kingdom on the River Thames. He was overseas at the plant's opening in Runnymede when he received a telegram: the main plant had burned to the ground.
There was a long and in-depth investigation into the fire, mostly as to the possibility of espionage on the part of competition. It was finally determined that a disgruntled employee had set the fire, knowing exactly where the plant would be damaged the most. The plant was a complete loss for AHI, and plans for a new production facility in Wayzata were ramped up, along with upgrades to Building #2 – which was spared from the flames.
The site of the plant was donated by Crowbar and AHI in 1954 to the city of Minneapolis, who was looking for a place to potentially build a baseball stadium to attract a major league franchise. Crowbar had offered Horace Stoneham of the New York Giants financial support if he moved his baseball club to the city, but Stoneham declined – and, instead, moved the Giants to San Francisco.
It was in the post-war era that AHI expanded its operations to include a research-and-development facility in the University section of Minneapolis, in Como. AHI's plant proved to be the cutting edge of farming technology – pardon the pun – as new and more energy-efficient means of bringing food to the table were foremost on their minds. One of the most recent successes of AHI's "Skunk Works" was the i9000 Electric Harvester: an all-electric tractor and harvester that could be used in the field all day and charged up overnight – and maintain charge with solar cells on the cab's roof.
A Brief History
Taken from http://www.alexanderharvester.com
And now, a short history of the third largest manufacturer of farm implements in the world:
For those of you who didn't follow the story about Ebenezer Calvin "Ebbie" Alexander elsewhere, the Pinkerton detective cum riverboat magnate attempted to ply his trade along the mighty Mississippi after the Civil War. Unfortunately, his Queen City Belle was not well equipped for the larger, more competitive market of the Big Muddy.
Sensing it may be time for him to consider other avenues of business opportunity, he began a long jaunt up river to the mill town of Minneapolis. Setting port at Fort Snelling, at the confluence of the Minnesota and Mississippi Rivers, he immediately sought out some way to turn his engineering acumen into a living.
It was completely accidental that he came upon the idea of farm implements. He had worked briefly for Charles Pillsbury and his family, helping to assemble his milling business up river at Saint Anthony. Pillsbury had made comment to him that his wheat providers were having problems with production; Ebbie developed a plowing system that was based on his platform screw-driven propulsion system for his beloved Belle – and the rest, as they say, is AHI history.
The original plow, used by a team of five centaurs (plus one "driver") is still on display at the Alexander Harvester Headquarters Building in Minnetonka. The ubiquitous white-with-blue-stripes of Alexander Harvester equipment was a throwback to Ebbie's riverboat – which was decked out in the same colors as he pulled into Fort Snelling in the 1870's. It's suggested that the AHI color scheme may have been influenced by the colors of the flour and river that his machines helped produce.
Ebbie's first construction plant was located on the north side of the railway yards, along Como Avenue in what was then Saint Anothony. (Minneapolis would later merge with the smaller municipality.) Building Number 2, built in 1916 – produced plows, harvesting equipment, and tractors of all shapes and sizes until January of 1951.
Crawford Bartholomew "Crowbar" Alexander had taken his grandfather's business international, opening the first AH plant in the United Kingdom on the River Thames. He was overseas at the plant's opening in Runnymede when he received a telegram: the main plant had burned to the ground.
There was a long and in-depth investigation into the fire, mostly as to the possibility of espionage on the part of competition. It was finally determined that a disgruntled employee had set the fire, knowing exactly where the plant would be damaged the most. The plant was a complete loss for AHI, and plans for a new production facility in Wayzata were ramped up, along with upgrades to Building #2 – which was spared from the flames.
The site of the plant was donated by Crowbar and AHI in 1954 to the city of Minneapolis, who was looking for a place to potentially build a baseball stadium to attract a major league franchise. Crowbar had offered Horace Stoneham of the New York Giants financial support if he moved his baseball club to the city, but Stoneham declined – and, instead, moved the Giants to San Francisco.
It was in the post-war era that AHI expanded its operations to include a research-and-development facility in the University section of Minneapolis, in Como. AHI's plant proved to be the cutting edge of farming technology – pardon the pun – as new and more energy-efficient means of bringing food to the table were foremost on their minds. One of the most recent successes of AHI's "Skunk Works" was the i9000 Electric Harvester: an all-electric tractor and harvester that could be used in the field all day and charged up overnight – and maintain charge with solar cells on the cab's roof.
Last edited by jwhouk on Mon Jan 25, 2016 7:26 pm, edited 3 times in total.
"Character is what you are in the dark." - D.L. Moody
"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin
"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin
-
Just Old Al
- Posts: 1693
- Joined: Tue Jul 31, 2012 4:43 am
- Location: Wilderness of Massachusetts
- Contact:
Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:
Addendum to above on the remains of the "Belle":
A good part of her went into Old Alexander House - some of which was unearthed during the rebuilding of the North Tower. It also turned out that the remains of her engine - a low-pressure double acting beam engine - was unearthed ino one of the long-disused outbuildings from the original farm. The beam and tower are gone, but the cylinder block and valvegear are still there and seem to still be usable.
Al has taken as a long-term plan rebuilding said engine as an auxiliary source of power for the mansion - and his lineshaft shop...oh, the plans, the plans...
A good part of her went into Old Alexander House - some of which was unearthed during the rebuilding of the North Tower. It also turned out that the remains of her engine - a low-pressure double acting beam engine - was unearthed ino one of the long-disused outbuildings from the original farm. The beam and tower are gone, but the cylinder block and valvegear are still there and seem to still be usable.
Al has taken as a long-term plan rebuilding said engine as an auxiliary source of power for the mansion - and his lineshaft shop...oh, the plans, the plans...
Last edited by Just Old Al on Sun Jan 17, 2016 8:54 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"The Empire was founded on cups of tea, mate, and if you think I am going to war without one you are sadly mistaken."
-
Sgt. Howard
- Posts: 3394
- Joined: Tue Jul 31, 2012 11:54 pm
- Location: Malott, Washington
Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:
Low pressure? as in "D valve? THOSE last forever... when your cylindrical valves are falling apart, your "D" valves are just breaking in... couple it to a flywheel with walscharts instead of a Stevenson's and you have a lovely donkey...Just Old Al wrote:Addendum to above on the remains of the "Belle":
A good part of her went into Old Alexander House - some of which was unearthed during the rebuilding of the North Tower. It also turned out that the remains of her engine - a low-pressure double acting beam engine - was unearthed ino one of the long-disued outbuildings from the original farm. The beam and tower are goone, but the cylinder block and valvegear are still there and seem to still be usable.
Al has taken as a long-term plan rebuilding said engine as an auxiliary source of power for the mansion - and his lineshaft shop...oh, the plans, the plans...
Last edited by Sgt. Howard on Sun Jan 17, 2016 8:55 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Rule 17 of the Bombay Golf Course- "You shall play the ball where the monkey drops it,"
I speak fluent Limrick-
the Old Sgt.
I speak fluent Limrick-
the Old Sgt.
-
Just Old Al
- Posts: 1693
- Joined: Tue Jul 31, 2012 4:43 am
- Location: Wilderness of Massachusetts
- Contact:
Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:
You got it. The old bucket was pushing 50 PSI max on a good day if they wired the safeties down - and at those pressures it would have run forever if the bearing brasses got done. The column and beam are of relatively little import - the sizing for those can be read from the rest of the mechanism - and let's face it, anyway, it's not like the thing is ever going to work hard again.Sgt. Howard wrote: Low pressure? as in "D valve? THOSE last forever... when your cylindrical valves are falling apart, your "D" valves are just breaking in...
"The Empire was founded on cups of tea, mate, and if you think I am going to war without one you are sadly mistaken."
-
jwhouk
- Posts: 6053
- Joined: Wed Aug 01, 2012 7:58 am
- Location: The Valley of the Sun, Arizona
- Contact:
Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:
We... did mention that back a few pages, did we not?
"Character is what you are in the dark." - D.L. Moody
"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin
"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin
-
Just Old Al
- Posts: 1693
- Joined: Tue Jul 31, 2012 4:43 am
- Location: Wilderness of Massachusetts
- Contact:
Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:
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.
Oh, that bit about the three-stage marine engines? I thought that was Greg joshing Al...Belle was double acting and single stage.
Last edited by Just Old Al on Sun Jan 17, 2016 9:08 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"The Empire was founded on cups of tea, mate, and if you think I am going to war without one you are sadly mistaken."
-
Sgt. Howard
- Posts: 3394
- Joined: Tue Jul 31, 2012 11:54 pm
- Location: Malott, Washington
Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:
“Those sons of whores!" Roared Al, " Those miserable, chancre-ridden pustulent vermin. That is IT! I have had enough! Edward! EDWARD! Need your help, lad, we need to load up the ammunition pods on the Vanquish and I can’t do it alone…” Edward, prudently, ensured he had something to do elsewhere – he’d heard that tone of voice before and wanted nothing to do with it.
Daisy calmly picked up the phone, dialed a familiar number and waited for the other end to pick up.
“Annie, it’s Daisy…yes, it has been a truly spectacular day. Would you put Greg on the phone? One of our friends has been arrested – wrongly – and Al is getting ready to load up the Vanquish and ride to the rescue guns blazing…..Who? Friend of Jet and Monica’s named Sterling….Yes, I’ll hang on.”
“Greg, talk him down. He is well and truly angry – and you know how the LEO types here feel about him and that car….I’ll put him on, yes.”
“Phone – for you.”
Al took the phone and listened for a bit, then spoke. “Greg – I was just about to call you – Get your arse-kicking boots on, me bucko, we have some cops to deal with….”
“No, we are NOT going to go riding in on a whole precinct of innocent police officers just because a couple of them got stupid. If stupid were a crime, most of our Senators and Congressmen would be behind bars and the Vice President would be facing life without parole- Now, settle down and tell me what happened.”
"These illegitimate sons of Belial have arrested one Sterling Damhnait for properly trashing a pair of mouth-breathing mashers!!! What's more, they interrupted her rather carnivorous lunch to do so, and if I am to understand what Monica just told me she's likely to pass out completely!!!"
"Carnivorous?... is she feline?"
"HOW THE BLOODY HELL SHOULD I KNOW?!? I SAW NO WHISKERS OR TAIL ON HER!"
"Proteins and cholesterol... adrenaline fatigue! She'll need an IV of sweet ringer's lactate with a slow adrenaline drip. Once she becomes lucid, get her to a kosher deli and give her a large knife and a small shovel! And keep your hands away from her mouth! Who arrested her?"
"Same wretched people that kyffed Jin and Alan's wedding photos, remember? Captain Thompson's lot,"
"Oh, yeah... the bucket head brigade... right... I'm on my way there,"
"Don't bother there if you're looking for her, find Buck-he went there with Billens and the two parasites armed with more paperwork than Thompson can read without pictures- find Buck and you'll find her- but meanwhile, I need you here with me,"
"But... you were going to the precinct armed? what for?"
"Proper and honorable retribution, m'boy- nothing less,"
"Al... let me get this straight... you were about to declare war on the Minneapolis Police Department? Over a false arrest? AFTER the victim has been sprung?"
There was a long pregnant pause-
"Hmph! Yes, when you put it that way, it does sound a little silly... oh well, I agree- let's call off the war..."
"Al... you realize we just agree'd on something, right?"
"No need to make a fuss over it, that sort of thing happens on occasion you know,"
Down in the lower depths of Hell, one imperial Demon turned to his subordinate and asks,
"Did you just feel a frosty daught?"
Daisy calmly picked up the phone, dialed a familiar number and waited for the other end to pick up.
“Annie, it’s Daisy…yes, it has been a truly spectacular day. Would you put Greg on the phone? One of our friends has been arrested – wrongly – and Al is getting ready to load up the Vanquish and ride to the rescue guns blazing…..Who? Friend of Jet and Monica’s named Sterling….Yes, I’ll hang on.”
“Greg, talk him down. He is well and truly angry – and you know how the LEO types here feel about him and that car….I’ll put him on, yes.”
“Phone – for you.”
Al took the phone and listened for a bit, then spoke. “Greg – I was just about to call you – Get your arse-kicking boots on, me bucko, we have some cops to deal with….”
“No, we are NOT going to go riding in on a whole precinct of innocent police officers just because a couple of them got stupid. If stupid were a crime, most of our Senators and Congressmen would be behind bars and the Vice President would be facing life without parole- Now, settle down and tell me what happened.”
"These illegitimate sons of Belial have arrested one Sterling Damhnait for properly trashing a pair of mouth-breathing mashers!!! What's more, they interrupted her rather carnivorous lunch to do so, and if I am to understand what Monica just told me she's likely to pass out completely!!!"
"Carnivorous?... is she feline?"
"HOW THE BLOODY HELL SHOULD I KNOW?!? I SAW NO WHISKERS OR TAIL ON HER!"
"Proteins and cholesterol... adrenaline fatigue! She'll need an IV of sweet ringer's lactate with a slow adrenaline drip. Once she becomes lucid, get her to a kosher deli and give her a large knife and a small shovel! And keep your hands away from her mouth! Who arrested her?"
"Same wretched people that kyffed Jin and Alan's wedding photos, remember? Captain Thompson's lot,"
"Oh, yeah... the bucket head brigade... right... I'm on my way there,"
"Don't bother there if you're looking for her, find Buck-he went there with Billens and the two parasites armed with more paperwork than Thompson can read without pictures- find Buck and you'll find her- but meanwhile, I need you here with me,"
"But... you were going to the precinct armed? what for?"
"Proper and honorable retribution, m'boy- nothing less,"
"Al... let me get this straight... you were about to declare war on the Minneapolis Police Department? Over a false arrest? AFTER the victim has been sprung?"
There was a long pregnant pause-
"Hmph! Yes, when you put it that way, it does sound a little silly... oh well, I agree- let's call off the war..."
"Al... you realize we just agree'd on something, right?"
"No need to make a fuss over it, that sort of thing happens on occasion you know,"
Down in the lower depths of Hell, one imperial Demon turned to his subordinate and asks,
"Did you just feel a frosty daught?"
Rule 17 of the Bombay Golf Course- "You shall play the ball where the monkey drops it,"
I speak fluent Limrick-
the Old Sgt.
I speak fluent Limrick-
the Old Sgt.
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jwhouk
- Posts: 6053
- Joined: Wed Aug 01, 2012 7:58 am
- Location: The Valley of the Sun, Arizona
- Contact:
Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:
Yep, I knew it:
jwhouk wrote:---
The best part of the new plan was that it meant minimal intrusion into the daily life of the Alexanders. Since EC had built the North Wing to be accessible through two portions of the house, it was easily sectioned off from the main building. The plastic sheets over wood framing minimized the dust from the construction, and sound dampers were erected in places where the noise needed abatement.
There was one interesting find in the teardown of north wing, however. One of Jacob's diggers had uncovered inside one of the joists a set of odd-colored planking, that appeared to have something painted on them under a coat of grime. The planks were taken out to the livery, and given a light wash-down.
Buck had come home for his lunch hour, having been notified that there had been a find in the basement. As he pulled into the grand circle in front of the main house, he saw the workers standing around the planking, putting the last piece together on the lawn.
"It was Jerry who saw it first," Jacob explained as Buck got out of his Bentley. "I know a bit about the history of the construction of the house from what Al gave me, and..."
Buck stopped him, looking down at the planking that was laying on the grass to dry.
The paint was faded, and there were distinct marks where the boards had been cut to fit the floorplan, but the words "QUEEN CITY BELLE" were clearly visible.
He gave Jacob a side hug. "I think I know a couple of people who are going to really want to see this..."
"Character is what you are in the dark." - D.L. Moody
"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin
"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin
-
jwhouk
- Posts: 6053
- Joined: Wed Aug 01, 2012 7:58 am
- Location: The Valley of the Sun, Arizona
- Contact:
Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:
And I think I figured out where I come in on the story...
---
Buck had e-mailed me a while back about a little "find" he wanted to show me and Neil, next time I could get to his side of the Twin Cities. Sadly, two things had conspired to prevent that from happening: first, my schedule, which was going from bad to horrible on a regular basis; second, the distinct lack of any portal anywhere near the Alexander Estate.
The first, I could work around (Dave, stop that! I am NOT feeding the pun vault anymore!). I had some vacation coming up in late July, so a visit to Maple Plain wouldn't be too bad - except for the second problem.
The Library had, in its ultimate wisdom, decided to close the temporary portal to the unused paddock at the Alexander estate. Phix claimed that it was for "security purposes", mostly because of what Al had planned for his basement workshop - and because there was going to be a plethora of paranormals on the site for most of the summer.
Nudge, however, gave me the real reason: it was all because of that Arania chick. The portal at the old Abbott Apartments had been reactivated, and there was a limit to the number of portals that could be active in a given area at a given time.
"Besides - Phix doesn't want her to accidentally stumble upon a portal," she told me as she looked up from her latest edition of Cosmo. "And since she works for Al, now..."
"Wait - that woman I saw, chained up at Phix's wedding. The former sphinx who was forced to live at the Abbott - how the heck did she end up working for Richer Engineering?"
"Funny story..." Nudge began.
---
Buck had e-mailed me a while back about a little "find" he wanted to show me and Neil, next time I could get to his side of the Twin Cities. Sadly, two things had conspired to prevent that from happening: first, my schedule, which was going from bad to horrible on a regular basis; second, the distinct lack of any portal anywhere near the Alexander Estate.
The first, I could work around (Dave, stop that! I am NOT feeding the pun vault anymore!). I had some vacation coming up in late July, so a visit to Maple Plain wouldn't be too bad - except for the second problem.
The Library had, in its ultimate wisdom, decided to close the temporary portal to the unused paddock at the Alexander estate. Phix claimed that it was for "security purposes", mostly because of what Al had planned for his basement workshop - and because there was going to be a plethora of paranormals on the site for most of the summer.
Nudge, however, gave me the real reason: it was all because of that Arania chick. The portal at the old Abbott Apartments had been reactivated, and there was a limit to the number of portals that could be active in a given area at a given time.
"Besides - Phix doesn't want her to accidentally stumble upon a portal," she told me as she looked up from her latest edition of Cosmo. "And since she works for Al, now..."
"Wait - that woman I saw, chained up at Phix's wedding. The former sphinx who was forced to live at the Abbott - how the heck did she end up working for Richer Engineering?"
"Funny story..." Nudge began.
"Character is what you are in the dark." - D.L. Moody
"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin
"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin
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jwhouk
- Posts: 6053
- Joined: Wed Aug 01, 2012 7:58 am
- Location: The Valley of the Sun, Arizona
- Contact:
Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:
---
The penultimate Saturday in June was a typically warm one for the Twin Cities area. Sarah wasn't thrilled with having to drive all the way to Minnesota, of course – the injection given for her hip issues had helped out somewhat, but they hadn't diminished the pain completely.
And a long drive on a hot summer day wasn't high on her list.
I'd suggested that, perhaps, I could drop her off at our portal, and escort her to Tina's. She didn't want to wait the ensuing three hours it would take me to get there. So that meant a three-and-a-half-hour drive out to Maple Plain.
We turned at the Holiday Stationstore on the east side of Maple Plain, and wound our way around to the entrance to the Alexander Estate.
"Never saw these gates," Sarah commented.
"I'm just hoping your step-dad never finds out we were visiting the competition," I replied as I rolled down the window of the HHR – and was greeted by the 90 degree central Minnesota heat. I groaned for a moment, then pressed the call button on the speaker.
"May I help you?" came a distinguished reply. Edward, obviously.
"Yes – Two friends from Wisconsin for a visit?"
"Password?"
"Badger, of course. C'mon, Edward! The way Glytch and Stan upgraded the security system, you should know what I had for dinner last night!"
There was a brief pause, before the grand gates with the scythe-wielding centaurs opened.
"Thank you!" I said, pressing the window close button and driving into the estate.
"Do you think he'll know we had hot dogs?" Sarah asked quietly.
The penultimate Saturday in June was a typically warm one for the Twin Cities area. Sarah wasn't thrilled with having to drive all the way to Minnesota, of course – the injection given for her hip issues had helped out somewhat, but they hadn't diminished the pain completely.
And a long drive on a hot summer day wasn't high on her list.
I'd suggested that, perhaps, I could drop her off at our portal, and escort her to Tina's. She didn't want to wait the ensuing three hours it would take me to get there. So that meant a three-and-a-half-hour drive out to Maple Plain.
We turned at the Holiday Stationstore on the east side of Maple Plain, and wound our way around to the entrance to the Alexander Estate.
"Never saw these gates," Sarah commented.
"I'm just hoping your step-dad never finds out we were visiting the competition," I replied as I rolled down the window of the HHR – and was greeted by the 90 degree central Minnesota heat. I groaned for a moment, then pressed the call button on the speaker.
"May I help you?" came a distinguished reply. Edward, obviously.
"Yes – Two friends from Wisconsin for a visit?"
"Password?"
"Badger, of course. C'mon, Edward! The way Glytch and Stan upgraded the security system, you should know what I had for dinner last night!"
There was a brief pause, before the grand gates with the scythe-wielding centaurs opened.
"Thank you!" I said, pressing the window close button and driving into the estate.
"Do you think he'll know we had hot dogs?" Sarah asked quietly.
"Character is what you are in the dark." - D.L. Moody
"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin
"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin
-
GlytchMeister
- Posts: 3734
- Joined: Wed Oct 16, 2013 2:52 pm
- Location: Central Illinois
- Contact:
Re: Pillsbury + 1 year:
[NON-CANON TO THE FANON]
Among the many security screenings performed on those who pass through the gates into the Alexander compound is a breath sample, sucked through the microphone grille and collected in a small test tube, which is then delivered via vacuum tube to a mass spectrometer.
[/NON-CANON TO THE FANON]
Among the many security screenings performed on those who pass through the gates into the Alexander compound is a breath sample, sucked through the microphone grille and collected in a small test tube, which is then delivered via vacuum tube to a mass spectrometer.
[/NON-CANON TO THE FANON]
He's mister GlytchMeister, he's mister code
He's mister exploiter, he's mister ones and zeros
They call me GlytchMeister, whatever I touch
Starts to glitch in my clutch!
I'm too much!
He's mister exploiter, he's mister ones and zeros
They call me GlytchMeister, whatever I touch
Starts to glitch in my clutch!
I'm too much!