Jenifer (Zarknorph)

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The Special Room - Origins PART 1   Oh the Absurdity!

Started 4/29/18 by Jenifer (Zarknorph); 30788 views.
In reply toRe: msg 46
PTG (anotherPTG)

From: PTG (anotherPTG)




I have to admit, I'm not entirely clear on the concept of a quantum nexus. My practical experience has always been with apertures and the local universum. But what happened at the Chapel entrance was something different yet again - no tangling or untangling of strands of time, no tear in the local universum, and no simple pyrotechnic explosion. But I am positive that, however briefly, we were in a little stone cell, and then we weren't. I saw snow globes!

i settle in for some serious web surfing and research.

Randy sits down in a corner to gnaw on a - wait, where did he get a raw potato?

Wickerbat and Cash are having a serious riot in a ball pit that has arrived from somewhere. I feel a chill.

I check on the Tree Hole, where Jenifer is currently hanging out. From the sound of it, she is holding another of her critter liberation rallies. A different monitor shows PTG sitting in a stairwell, conversing with an owl. He lifts his broom aloft and - shimmer, whoosh - is gone. Huh.

Sudden shrieks fill HQ. I look at the ferrets, then at Randy, then at the monitors. It's Jenifer, screaming "HOPPY, HOPPY, HOPPY!" Jenifer clutches at the rabbits of the Tree Hole, still screaming. The rabbit in her arms vanishes. She reaches for another but it too is gone before she can touch it.

As I watch, every single rabbit disappears from the HOS.


I stop betwix bits of potatoe peel phweeeeeeeee I hate dat more so dem eyes that seem to stare atcha and say bite me I bite back,,, yes I am THAT hungry I will eat a raw potatoe,

could use some of dat der salt and buccker but sigh to fer away,, I stop mid munch and look at Grim wiff a still broken ear poor poor bunnie have to fix dat fer her when we gets back home,, I look at Grim like she is bewitched, bewithered or bothered not sure whitch one just yet , then I notice we BACK IN A CELL?????????????? ok ok ok wat hoppin??

last thin I remember is ??? what ?? where?? why??? who??? oh craponacracker how in da heck ya all want me to remember what I don't remember, now what was I saying?? oh yeah remember now ,, I thunck,,, wait , crunch not bad not bad at all even raw,, Grim throws me a look.... ok ok ok fur burns rot rouh thunckin to hard downnnn a notice der ya go picure clear now, last thin I remember I was in Atlantis trying to sneek past good oe Medusa, when I got flattened like a pancake ,, oh P A N C A K E wiff maple syrup snaps back to where I was, ??? oh yeah flat I tell ya by PTG and goof Jenifer now you and I are here??? WTH????? NOW I remeber what I was trying to do ,, rescue you blumbering ijidits and get ya back to camp where we would be safe and I know yes I said KNOW what I am doing not being floped out of an air ship, slapt on a bridge,straped in a white coat wiff me arms behind me back and stuck like a pin cushion by nutso Nurse Krachen,, having me tussie burnt to a crisp lie an overdown steak on a pit,,or having to listen to all tis garbage about CEO's in Armaniy suits, or head hunter ASSASINS Chris be long gone ya know oh and those god awfull black vines and lava spitin flowes,thos e I remember well, and da FOG and da Black Cloat villian, all Murks and Arabella doing, da fog is the reason you all lost yer cotten pickin minds and are having these illsions THIS IS NOT REAL PEOPLE,,,no Grim listen cmere ,,closer so ya kin hear moi,, I grab her good ear and whisper,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,


A world without bunnies is a dystopian nightmare of bleak unending hopelessness.

I feel the sudden urge for a pink pill.

No. We've all kicked the habit.

I look to PTG with helpless tears in my eyes. "Hoppy?" Is all I can say.

"Grim!" PTG shouts.

"Well of course I am! There are no bunnies!"

"No, you insufferable psychopath! Grim! If all the bunnies are disappearing - they must be after her!"

I wipe my tears. I have to think before PTG can say-

"I have a cunning plan!"

"Oh, for crying out loud!"

"We disguise ourselves as castle officials, infiltrate the group and find out who is doing this and now."

I sigh. "One small problem... We've already done that, so they are no doubt on high alert to catch cloaked impostors."

"Well what's your cunning plan?"

I sit down and cuddle the duckling. It's not the same, but it does give me some comfort.

"Okay... protecting Grim is useless, as she'll just slip through our fingers if they take her... Getting caught trying to infiltrate the inner circle would get us immediately back on wanted posters - or worse... so there's only one conclusion..."

"Which is?"

"We have to let them take Grim."

I march up to him. With both hands clutching his broom, he swings at me with all his strength.

"THERE'S A MESS IN HQ!!" I shout as I catch the bristles. The broom vibrates and PTG tries to wrench me free of it before we can teleport. But I'm holding on, despite the pain.

We shudder and lurch and fall in a heap at HQ.

PTG jumps up. "She wants to let them take you!"

Grim looks alarmed. Randy spits a mouthful of raw potato on the floor. PTG sweeps it up.

"Is it true?" I ask her. "ALL the bunnies?"

I see The Interrogation Room on the monitor behind her. No Hoppy 3.

"It appears so..." her voice is quiet.

I don't care what she thinks. I rush over and cuddle her and stroke her fur and kiss her on top of her head.


"Just TAKE IT!" I won't let go.

It takes PTG and Randy both to pry me away from my enforced cuddling, that could be deemed as a form of assault.

"She said 'Let them take her'!" PTG continues beating me with his broom.

"It's the only way!" I cry between bristled thrashings. If he really wanted to hurt me, he should turn the broom around and use the wooden end! "She'll be sent to wherever they're holding all the bunnies and can contact us to rescue ALL of them!"

The bristling stops. All are thinking. We smell burning. Randy apologises.

We all look to Grim. Even Cash and Wickerbat have stopped playing. I wonder if it would be inappropriate to join them in the ball pit for a frolic.

Probably yes.

Grim scratches her fur where I kissed her. "She's right."
...[Message truncated]
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In reply toRe: msg 47
PTG (anotherPTG)

From: PTG (anotherPTG)




Two voices:

"…I tried adjusting the marble, but that just offset the dustering so that I couldn't read the grids at all.

Crouching beneath the hutches, I see two sets of legs come into the room and approach the workstation.

"Dude, I could have told you that. Did you try increasing the taurine empathizer?"

"The realtime nantuck plug-in doesn't have that, but I'm hoping it will be included in the next upgrade. Until then, it just means extra overtime 'cause I have to log all the weeviling jigs manually. Man, the coffee is off today!"

"Dude! Did you leave the recall apps running when we left? You know Mackenzie said we have to be extra careful around this chick. I mean rabbit. She's apparently one crazy hack. Oh, sh---!"

I shrink further into the recesses. The cooks and chimneysweeps quietly rearrange themselves to give me as much cover as possible. I don't trust the look in the eyes of one baby girl, though.

"How'd she get out this time?! The alarms didn't go off!"

"Quick, just recall her again before anyone else notices." A strike on a keyboard, and a relieved exhalation.

Then banging of a wire cage, and a new third voice: "What the -----!"

And one of the original voices: "Oh, sh--."

And the other: "CEO? Sir….?"

I am about to open an aperture in order to travel elsewhere, but I hesitate. The CEO himself? And as per usual, several things happen simultaneously.

"Yes, sir! Get you out right away, sir!" The unfortunate computer nerds fall over themselves to extract the most recent occupant from my wire cage.

One also has (the Dude, perhaps) the sense to call for back up. So as per usual, we have various alarums blaring. My poor beleaguered ears!

"…. Major crises to deal with… half-assed assassin's brother threatening a lawsuit… need to run damage control on the dust bunny cafeteria situation… contract awards for weed control, black vines should not be invading the non-tourist areas of the Castle… need to re-establish trust with the residents, especially the three twizzers, we need them… Why am I still in this cage? I don't have TIME for this!"

"Immediately, sir!" And sotto voce hissing----- Dude, where are the wire cutters?

Even more new voices: "Grim, be ye here! Can ye hear! Yur pur ear!"

"Hey, that's decent rhyme and meter! You know, I'm thinking of starting a poetry appreciation class. Alternate Saturday afternoons only, of course, because it's so difficult to get time off from our adventure otherwise. The Rocksville public library has agreed to let me use one of the common rooms as a professional courtesy. You should sign up!"

It's Randy and Jenifer.

And just when I think things can't get any worse, the baby girl bunny tosses aside her rattle, rips off her rabbit skin, and rises up in the awful guise of Lily Munster. Or at least, someone wearing the Ghost Bride avatar.


Gasp, gasp, pant, pant! I scrabble backwards beneath the bleachers of staff gymnasium 2 faster than you can say "antidisestablishmentarianism."

Okay, maybe that wasn't the best comparison for my speed.


I GLARE at Jen and grab spidie man box whip out a P B&J crusty bread sandwhice and scoofs it down I am that hungry and shake the juice box uh huh half gone and looks at her when she wants the cookie , oh the one I ate already with the big bite mark?? that cookie? here take the apple or should I say da core and please tell me ya found it that way inside da box,,, snarls yeah right uh huh sureeeeeeeeeee yeppers and I have a swamp to sell ya,

We head off to find and rescuse Grim as I hold up da Key rings and show Jen da bunnie fur all over it, when I stop dead in me tracks and Jen crash's head first into me shoulder owwwwwwwwwwwwwwww she say ya broke me nose wiff yer stupid shoulder what ya got under dat torn shirt IRON, nope idjit dem der be what yall call musculces..we stop da creakin stops, I raise my finner to me mouth and look at Jen shhhhhhhhh listen,, I raise my right foot no squeke step foreward, nuffin, I follow wiff my left foot and creak squeekkk,step foreward and the boards groan, I look at Jen I knew it I knew it was na me RobKnee that crack came from under me left foot NOT my right ,I motion fer Jen to back up slow like and hug the wall as close as she kin get , summthin feels not right here, I look at the floor dirt and dust covered oh PTG would have a heart attack seeing this and poor boy wiff out his broom to clean it , look close Jen dem der slats are crooked and look there be nails stickin up and does dat not look like a handel over der ? thunck we found us a secret room or a cellar, whatcha thunck?

You still have dat screwdriver wiff ya?? she pulls out of her corset a stick of dynomite , a Bomb, a pistal and looks at me wiff puppy dog eyes and shrugs her shoulders can't feel it

well what in tar nations is going to help me wiff you blooming idjit??

Well good thin I still have me Bowie knife hid in me boot well what's left of me boot,

stay right there DO NOT MOVE I slowly bend on one knee me good one and swipe off some dirt till I kin see an outline and the handle is clear now , scary lookin thin it be a Lion holding a ring in his snarling mouth, I look at Jen iffin this thin bites me I am going to throttel you,, what what says Jen as I cut her off mid way HUSH WOMAN do ya want someone to hear us find us and drag us back to da Special Room hog tied chained shackeled and drugged out of our skulls??

This might be a way out of here and down to da tunnels and back to SANITY

But but what about the others PTG Grim, Hoppy Wicker and I Gibbs slap her hush calm da H*** down iffin this is an escape we will come back for them armed to da toofies and with reinforchments , Jen snaffels at me yeah right Randy you still in La La Land there is NO other outside here,,, Look you ding bat you have not heard a word I have been telling you THIS my arms fly all over da area IS NOT real OUT >>>>>> der is and iffin dis be da way out you will see fer yer self what I have been tryin to tell you all is da truff and ya know what else?? over der I speak normal,,am the Leader of a troop of ver
...[Message truncated]
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In reply toRe: msg 48
PTG (anotherPTG)

From: PTG (anotherPTG)




There is a hustle and bustle of wings, and an owl settles on the workstation near me. It's PTG's owl, it tells me; further, that my three friends were in the export lab when the fireball hit, but the owl is certain that they escaped and are alive somewhere. Then it asks if I have any mice handy.

I ask the owl, what does it expect, with two ferrets already on the premises? The owl ruffles politely and removes itself to a nearby coatrack.

When did HQ acquire a coatrack?

Cash finds a png named "note to self" which proves to be a screenshot with the words "password: sKybit33x."

An envelope flutters to the floor. Inside is a letter:
Dear Grimwald,
I understand you may be in need of my assistance in the near future. When you are ready, leave a message for Rudolph at the Customs Office.
PS ~ Do you think your friend Jen would agree to accompany me to dinner at the Rapscallion? My treat.

A little pinging from the computer announces email from Skull Pete. My shipment of smuggled goods has finally arrived.

I massage my temples. Everything at once!


I watch Captain Randy carefully while PTG threatens Tarquin with Boggle.

"We're not leaving." I announce.

"What?!" PTG is outraged. He slaps Tarquin. "There's nothing here!"

"Yes there is." I pat Captain Randy on the shoulder. "Randy's sanity."

"My what now?"

I turn back to PTG. "And we're NOT leaving without it!."


Using a term current in common parlance: “I am gob smacked”!

I just cannot believe the naivety of this flibbertigibbet
Does she not remember why we are here, in this place, on this planet, wandering around the environs of this Castle.

Furthermore, it is only recently that our esteemed medical staff deemed us insane, to such an extent that we wear lovely white padded jackets with long arms.
To emphasize this opinion of her "weirdness", she has adorned hers with whatever she has been able to forage from the nearest HOS (or failing that the rubbish tip).

I realize that “diamonds are a girl’s best friend” but she will stick anything onto her clothing that glitters.

I have always been dubious about the 100% quality of Carp’ Bob’s soundness of mind but he is at least functional, especially if he thinks that he is the “alpha male”.

Jenny Wren needs to explain herself and quickly concerning her current intransigence to move from this bleak place.

At least Cap’n Bob has the means to do so, whether or not he has all his mental faculties, and thence the ability to communicate with Grim and let her get us all out of this hell-hole.
I turn to face the stubborn face and expression of my female partner


I sigh and slap Tarquin. "LET'S GO!"

We all walk towards the cobweb covered munitions tent.

"This is a parallel universe! It involves 'A call To Arms'! Have you heard of it?" I forage amongst the neglected arsenal.

"Of course, but no one can read it!"

"I KNOW! It's been invaded by advertising!"

PTG vomits on Tarquin.

"My sentiments exactly!" I'd slap Tarquin, but I don't want to get my hand messy.

"WHAT HAVE THEY DONE?!" Randy stumbles towards the billboards for skin cream, male enhancements and movie ads. "MY WORLD!"

"If we want to get our Captain back - fully sane and fully capable - we have to kill every last one of these insidious motherf-"

"-Can I go? I have a job interview at a newspaper!"

"WHY DID YOU BRING US HERE?" PTG demands, while keeping his distance.

"SHE LIT A STICK OF DYNAMITE!" We're not sure if Tarquin has soiled himself again or if it's just his current smell.

"So? I always do that." I shrug.



"Sorry… As I was saying, I didn't have time to relocate us individually, so I had to do a group transfer. They can only be done by mystical means. And then those portkeys-"

"Oh! Now J.K Rowling's gonna sue us! I can't kill her! She's a Goddess!"

"Okay, those… uh… 'magical keys that open dimensional portals'…"

"Oh, we so need a shorter word for that!"



"Those 'keys' are constricted to Official Midnight Castle objects."

"My broom!" PTG softly weeps.

"And that big impressive desk with all the fancy buttons and lights…" I muse.

"Computer consol, yes." Tarquin nods.

"So can you get us back?!" PTG still doesn't want to touch Tarquin - especially now that his crying has progressed to the 'snotty nose' stage.

"Not till the job is done!" I stare PTG down with a steely conviction. The titanium, however, is appealing.

Randy is staring angrily at a pathetic little maggot holding up a sign. It is advertising a free download of a new movie still in cinema release.

"Hold on." I aim the bazooka and fire.


The bazooka shell shoots on wards and upwards until it disappears into the mist.

It finally gives up seeking a target and we get a firework display before a stillness reigns over the landscape once more.

Only the sounds of Randy sniffling and Tarquin sobbing break the silence

I can imagine Jenny Wren being a very popular opponent at all sports as she has absolutely useless aiming skills!I presume that the wriggly maggot with the large advertising hoarding was her aim.

Sadly, I have to say that we were the closer to it.

All of a sudden out of the heavens an electrical discharge zooms downwards, and the maggot and its ad
...[Message truncated]
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In reply toRe: msg 49
PTG (anotherPTG)

From: PTG (anotherPTG)




"So... I've been thinking about 'Plan B'." I muse aloud.

"Does it involve explosions?" Grim frowns.

"Sadly, no."

"Alright, let's hear it." Grim folds up the 'cunning' floor plan and passes around kibble, carrots and salmon for everyone's lunch.

"Well. this is a 'staff' gymnasium..."


"Tarquin is at a job interview for the local paper, plus he works as a guard..."

"Or he's reporting everything that happened to him to MC officials, who will immediately retaliate with more wanted posters and arrest warrants..."

"Agree... either way he's a loose end with a fancy watch we could use to rescue PTG."

"Only if we can catch him."

"Well, he strikes me as one of those insufferable healthy types, always banging on about 'runner's high' and gluten and how quinoa and goji berries changed their life."

"A git?"

"Precisely." I nod. "Meaning he'll be here sooner or later."

"And then what?"

"Well, there's a saying that applies here - as we are trying to rescue a friend. The saying goes;

A friend will pick you up from the airport

A good friend will help you move house.

But a great friend will help you dispose of a body."

I watch Grim as she is lost in thought, sifting through and categorizing all her friends. Then her eyes widen.

"Wait, WHAT?"

I pat her on the paw. "I'm a great friend to have."


"I know a variation of that, too: A good friend will bail you out of jail at 3 am, but a great friend will be sitting beside you saying D*, that was fun!" Jenifer and I grin at each other. "I think we should go for drinks next time we reach a lull in the plot. I can even smuggle in some Bundaberg!"

We sit under the bleachers. Jenifer teases Bell with a bell, while I sort through time threads. Unfortunately it seems to be all or nothing: either the gym is a smoking ruin of rubble, or it was never used to hold the rabbits in the first place. And I really wanted that custom workstation and database!

"Plan B it is," I say at last. "What sport or activity would lure Tarquin here?"

"Certainly not wrestling or boxing! He was a wuss!" Jenifer declares. "Racquetball, maybe? Yeah, racquetball sounds like something someone named Tarquin would play"

"Racquetball it is." I 'borrow' some careless admin assistant's account, find Tarquin's email address, and type up an email:

To: All Staff

From: Castle Health and Wellness Committee

Round one of the Midnight Castle Racquetball March Madness Tournament will begin in 10 minutes. First matches up:

Staff Gymnasium 1: Mackenzie versus Javier

Staff Gymnasium 2: Tarquin versus Maguire

Latecomers will forfeit their chance to advance to the next stage. Go get 'em, boys!

"That's it?" says Jenifer.

"It's all we need. Well, that and two disguises. Tarquin will come. He'll change out of his uniform and into gym clothes. If he doesn’t voluntarily take off the watch, we tell him it's tournament regulations to take off the watch, and we bolt."

"Ooh, what disguises?"

"Gym clothes and a referee's uniform."

"Two House Of Schpadoinkle originals coming up!"


We sneak into the Staff changing room and find Tarquin's locker. I have to jimmy it open. His civilian clothes are already there, but no watch. There is, however, a notepad with some ideas for news stories. He must have got the job.

"He still has the watch." I announce. "So plan A of plan B is a bust. Move on to Plan B of Plan B."

We move to Maguire's locker. It is unlocked.

"Handy!" I open it and pull out his sports wear. "Oh this is just hideous! Plain white! Where are the adornments? The accessories? The accoutrements? The appurtenances?"

"It's a disguise, not an outfit!" Grim points out, rather firmly.

"I know!" I grumble, "But I don't have to like it!"

I change into Maguire's uninspiring ensemble while Grim carefully tucks her ears under a referee's cap and hangs a whistle around her neck.

"Hi Ref!"

We turn sharply to see a jaunty young fellow sipping a pomegranate, kale and chia seed smoothie. I slap him and shove him into Maguire's locker, then lock him in.

"How did you know that was Maguire?" Grim is amazed.


We head out to find Staff Gymnasium 2.

We see Tarquin warming up alone in one of the courts.

"Okay, Grim, he's never seen you. Plan B, of Plan B is go!"

Grim opens the door and officially walks into the court in a very official way. Especially for a bunny.

Tarquin turns. "Hi Ref! Hey! Why are you a large rabbit with an owl on your shoulder?"

I smack myself in the forehead. There is still an ice cream cone there.

When it comes to disguises, we do tend to forget the little things.

Grim ignores his query, and carries on in a very official way.

"I'm sorry sir, Health and Safety regulations prevent you from wearing any jewelry on the court."

"Of course." Tarquin takes out his hipster earlobe hole earrings. You know the ones - the see-through black rings that get bigger and bigger and bigger until finally the sight of them makes you vomit. But it is, of course, very important that a latte swilling, inner city food blogger gets in touch with their tribal African roots. As it is, apparently, with blonde haired, blue eyed Tarquin.

Grim, however, resists the urge to vomit. I am impressed.

"And the watch."

Tarquin laughs. "Is this a test?"

"I beg your pardon?" Grim's voice takes on an uber official tone now.

"Rule Seven. Never let any mystical technology you are in possession, or control, of out of your sight. Rule seven. Nice test! You almost got me!"

Tarquin turns back to his warm up and practices a serve. The sight of his floppy, dangling earl
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PTG (anotherPTG)

From: PTG (anotherPTG)





After reminding people to put their clocks forward, this one here in The Valleys, did all the clocks and forgot the timepiece on her arm.

Can I come in and play, please.


Welsh Shelley


 I continue where PTG leaves off. "The ferrets and I have been accumulating a fair bit of stuff too. The main two things I want to bring up now are PTG's broom, and also some potential allies."

PTG perks up at the mention of his broom. "Yes?"

"I've searched, and Cash and Wickerbat have searched, and we just can't find any evidence of something called a Union of Mystical Objects or Magical Facilities Union Panel."

"But what if they've changed their name?" asks Jenifer. "UMO is a boring acronym, and MFUP is difficult to pronounce."

"And don't forget the Branch of Wooden Paraphernalia," adds PTG. "BWP doesn't even have a vowel."

"Could be Welsh. I don't speak Welsh."

"Tarquin might be able to. You said he got that job at the Cloud City Times."

"Tarquin can barely handle English! Did you read yesterday's paper?"

"I think Branch of Wooden Paraphernalia is a supposed to be a pun. Gah, forget about the acronyms!" I clutch at my ears. "I think that someone deliberately pulled away PTG's broom and bench to hinder us, and this so-called union is just diversion."

And very diverting it has proved, so far! There is a knock on the door, diverting us even further.

"Tell them we gave at the office," says PTG, but unexpectedly it is Shelley standing there, asking to come in and play.

"Please do," says Jenifer. "Hey, how do you pronounce BWP in Welsh?"

"Branch of Wooden Paraphernalia."


Shelley stands outside the door, wondering what on earth is going on behind that Green Door. Does she knock twice and ask for Joe or was it Nurse, she can't remember.

Shelley knocks once, the door is opened, Shelley is asked one question, hesitates and says

"Noson fy ffrindiau 'I' Cangen Paraphernalia wooden".

Silence from within room, then "what did she say"?

Is this a test Shelley thinks, silly test, just to get a room, and all because I forgot to put my watch forward 1 hour. What will become of me in October when the clocks go back 1 hour. I think I will become a cuckoo and climb into that clock on the wall up there.


My first thought on seeing the apparition that has just entered the room is that here we have yet another lunatic who has escaped Nurse’s clutches.

In front of me there is a stranger clad in a long sleeved white jacket.

This is just visible, but it is obscured by leeks and daffodils pinned onto some old bits of lace (which I recognize as coming from the Broken Statue HOS) and all arranged in a haphazard fashion. What is really amazing is the fact that this apparition is wearing a tall black hat (which could only have come from the Elfish Bas Relief HOS)!

Without even blinking Jenny Wren goes over and rearranges the greenery (+ some yellow) into some sort of order. Then stands back and admires her handy work.

I am bemused. I had not realized that other people could access the HOS Returns Repository and even borrow its contents.

So this apparition must be someone worth admitting to our coterie if only to counter-act Ms Wren’s outlandish attire.

Grim meanwhile has sniffed out the leeks and expresses a desire to eat some of them. Jenny Wren tells her that is rude!

My first thought is to pass over an application form and a pencil (specially sharpened for the occasion). Once filled in we three can then decide on how to address him/her and which room and corridor he/she has escaped from.

(There is one corridor in the medical wing) where the seriously deranged are housed and we already have had one partner from there. I don’t think we can absorb a second!)

I look up in my book of strange words (as housed in the Dark Tower Library) and find a suitable greeting:


No reaction!

“Guten morgen!”

No reaction!

“Ni hao!”

No reaction!

Jenny leans over and snatches the book from me. She rummages through the pages until she finds the Index of defunct languages and says:

“Ah! Bore da!”

The apparition bows and doffs said hat. We have “lift off!”


"One final test!" I whip out my scrutinizing fife.

"Oh, welcome Shelley,

You're certainly not smelly

Would you like dome jelly?

I've never been to Delhi"

"Yup! She's in." I nod.

I feed Hoppy her leek. "HEY!"

Shelley stares at us all blankly. "I just came in to check the time."

"Oh, you poor pet." I pat her shoulder while Bell pounces on her dandelion. "You have to realise by now that anyone who strays into this thread becomes trapped forever."

"Anyone spoken to Bing lately?"

"No, but Tarquin's just reported that Jack's been recaptured."

In the distance we hear screaming from a locked pantry.

"Oh, PTG that reminds me, your owl made a mess of Fletcher's hideaway."

PTG sighs and focuses on his new broom. Nothing happens. "Broom! Respond!!"

Grim frowns. "Maybe it has to be enchanted?"

"As in Officially?" I honestly dread going anywhere near any official headquarters without some seriously heavy artillery.

"Could be a good cover." Grim ponders. "After all, PTG is still technically the official head sweeper-upperer."

PTG catches on. "I go in under the guise of official business, distract the CEO, you sneak in and rummage through his office."

It all sounds very official.

We all look to Shelley. I adorn her hat with a bright blue rose. Now the outfit pops. "So! Up for a poorly planned, terribly executed covert mission that's guaranteed to go pear shaped withing five minutes of starting, followed by incarceration and a 97% chance of a large expl
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PTG (anotherPTG)

From: PTG (anotherPTG)




"Well I was a little off in the timing of when everything would go pear shaped, but we are pretty much on track." I wave to Grim and PTG as they are manhandled out of the elevator. Or bunnyhandled, in the case of Grim.

"You four are guilty of trespassing!" Guard number 1 shouts.

"Hi Mike!"

"Hey Jen."

"I'll handle this." The CEO laces his fingers together and surveys the four of us. "You four are proving to be a major thorn in my side."

"Actually I'm new here." Shelley raises a tentative hand.


We all look to the floor and toe the carpet sheepishly. However I have never seen a sheep toeing carpet, so am unsure of the validity of that last sentence.

"You!." The CEO turns to PTG who is surreptitiously sweeping some dust bunnies into a pile. "Such a loyal and hard working member of our team. Why would you associate with such idiotic criminals?"


"I've been asking myself that question for months now." PTG nods.

"And you…"

"I told you, this is my first time" Shelley holds up her hands.


"And YOU!"

I Sigh. "I don't think we have to discuss me."

"Every single department from maintenance to medical has complaints, charges and outright calls for your incarceration or banishment!"

"Which is why I said not to discuss it."

"And YOU."

Grim's nose twitches.

"The most dangerous of them all."


Grim seems pleased.

The CEO eyes us all with quiet rage. "What to do with you..."

"Give us all an ice cream and let us go?" I offer.


"Worth a shot."

After careful consideration the CEO speaks. "It is obvious that detaining you in our…. err… Wellness and Recuperation Spa-"


"-is not in the best interests of the safety of the MC community at large."

"We do tend to escape a lot."

"So therefore, it is with a heavy heart that I must insist you be incarcerated in our maximum security prison."

"You mean that one in Cloud City with the mystical handcuffs where you're pretty much left unattended in an open room and people can visit you as often as they wish and even perform tasks for you?"



"But it's my first offence!" Shelley cries.

"As that is true, you will be let off with a warning on one condition."

"Which is?"

"Sing 'Burn My Candle'?"

We all watch Shelley knock it out of that park and applaud. She is let go. We can't even be angry.

"We so need to take the show on the road."

"As for you three!"


The mystical handcuffs do have the advantage of not chafing the wrists.

PTG, Grim and I stand side by side on the ledge of the Cloud City Prison, watching the local denizens doing the rounds. An occasional puzzle is brought up in the room and we all try to offer our help.

"No, the same hand! Hey! Watch the twitch! He's changing hands! OHHH! Wrong hand!"

"So what now?" PTG mopes as his bench and broom have again been confiscated.

Grim still has her watch, but using it may result in a splinching - where she teleports away, but her cuffed paws remain.

"I guess this is the final test." I shrug.

"Shelley?" PTG perks up.

"Will she rescue us? Or will she flee and start her own one woman Shirley Bassey tribute show?"

We await the dawn.

Or the announcement of ticket sales


We hear the Town clock chime in the distance . Our meal is delivered: three avocados and a slab of raw steak

This may suit Grim for culinary reasons and Jenny because she obviously has a weight problem at the moment. But moi, I don’t like raw steak; the avocado takes about ten seconds to consume and I still feel hungry.

I continue to mope with the loss of my lovely paraphernalia.

I look round at my two companions.

Grim appears to be having a conversation in rabbit language with the local inhabitant and begins to look less like a lost soul by the minute.

Jenny Wren is smacking her lips in an effort to persuade herself that she is full. But she is failing miserably.

It is then that I notice that her figure is slightly more rounded, more corpulent.

That is all we need in our incarceration!

I turn to her and ask:

“I don’t quite know how to put this. But are you by any chance, you know, pregnant?” and retreat hastily under the stairs as it is a very personal sort of question to ask a lady.

Instead she smiles and shimmy’s a bundle of papers out from under her redesigned smock and gives them to Grim who is at the moment dancing a little bunny dance with his new-found friend.

There in front of us are the plans for the entire Castle site, in details down to the last stone, nook and cranny.

Her eyes light up (if a giant bunny’s eyes can light up, that is) and she finds the sheet for where we are detained at the moment.

“There!” she announces: “that is our escape route. Now all we have to do is to free ourselves of these mystical handcuffs”

I don’t know who it is that smiles first: Jenny or I but it seems we both have a Cunning Plan!


"Top Of The Morning to All of our "Special Room" Inhabitants/Inmates!" Fresh from the paws of our very Own Panda Bear Cub Jr. Reporters, (they work for Bamboo Ya Know) I've been handed some very Special News Indeed!!! According to the Cub's report, we have a "Brand Spanking New" Guest/Inhabitant/Inmate by the the name of "Shelly" and "Guess What!" She's a "Welsh Rabbit!" According to The Jr. Cub's report, Shelly was found just wandering around "The Special Room's" grounds looking kinda Dazed and more then a little Bewildered...."RING!....RING!...RING!" "Special Room New's", Gus Gus Speaking....Oh Hi there Salty, how can I help you? "WHAT!!" Your telling Me that My "Great Late Bre
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PTG (anotherPTG)

From: PTG (anotherPTG)




And as April 3rd dawns across the globe, the ferrets slink back to their hidden havens. Some don't even make it home but sack out wherever they happen to be. For hours afterward sleeping ferrets are found in HOSs: the Metro cars, the Guest Room, the Fabric Shop - anywhere warm or dark with a cuddly bit of fabric to snuggle under.

My own ferrets have yet to return. PTG sweeps the already immaculate tap room, while Shelley studies the cocktail menu and Jenifer improvises a stunning toga from the licensed-character quilting cottons she mistakenly brought with her. I fiddle with my phone to see if I can do an all-call without going back to HQ. "Testing, testing."

We four wince as squeeeeees of feedback resound through the Tavern. "Sorry!" I make an adjustment. "Wickerbat. Cash. It's time for little ferrets."

Wait five seconds, and -- shuffle, shuffle, shuffle.

Wickerbat and Cash arrive from somewhere. Cash has a little padded collar on his neck and is rather the worse for the past 24 hours of ferret rough-housing. Wickerbat grins. I am reminded of my recent conversation with Jenifer about good friends and great friends, and wonder if I need to check for bodies in the ball pit or under the couch.


Shelley, is just looking at the cocktail menu in Salty's, but isn't taking on board what is listed. She is still nursing the sore bottom and broken ego, after landing with a big thump on the broken carriage, after a gust of wind blew her there. Humphhh she says to herself all those years in the Paras, and I still get it wrong.

"What yer say, Shelley" says PTG

"Oh nothing just hurting that's all. So all this fabric that Jen has got, is it really silk? She can make a fortune selling that, from the fabric counter" I bet Grim didn't realise that when he made up our parachutes"?

"hey Shelley" says Salty "give us a song"

"No" says Shelley "you don't pay enough, I'd get more from busking in Cloud City"

"Bored now" says Shelley, "Isn't about time we caused mayhem somewhere else in the Castle"..........................

......................The other 3 look at each other, with glints in their eyes and huge grins appear on their faces..............oh oh "something is afoot"................PTG is about to say something, when one of Grim's techie thingies starts to flash and make warbling sounds............looks like THE 4 ARE OFF AGAIN................


"DandyDog!" "Come to My Office Right Now Stat!".....OMG!......What Now! .....All kinds of thoughts raced through my mind as I Boldly entered The "Cloud City Times" inter Sanctum/ Offices...where I could hear "Editor in Chief Joe J Jones" known fondly by His MC Cronies, as J.J.J.,( Triple "J" for Short), Bellowing,...."Ive gotta stay one Step ahead of those Finagling, Dastardly so called "Do-Gooders" best known now as the "Four Musketeers!" HuH! ......So heres what your gonna do DandyDog! Your gotta keep that Bloodhound "News Sniffing Nose" of yous to the ground ya hearing Me? And bring back to "Yours Truly" any Dirty Dirt ya find on Those 4 Kapish?!" .......Noooooo! Spy on..........My Heroes!.......My Friends....... ?! For a few more Doggy Biscuits a Week?? Hummmmm? ..


I adorn my toga with my vast shell collection. There appears to be one in every 3rd HOS. As PTG has once again eaten the crab from the Game Table, I fashion the bright red shell into an elegant hat.

"Now, we need to find out who shot us down." PTG announces.

"Well it looked like another blimp." I frown. Why was that significant.

Grim attends to Cash's overexertion, while questioning Wickerbat sternly. Bell pounces on everything in sight, in order to see what it will do and Hoppy does some filing. Shelley pouts that we never got to Bermuda. I pout a bit too. It sounds lovely.

"KNOCKERS!" I suddenly scream.

"Language!" PTG chokes on his Singapore Sling.

"The door knocker! Where that clandestine cloaked committee met! It was a blimp!"

"So there are two blimps?" Shelley perks up. Bermuda may be on the cards after all.

"There's always one above the Cloud Pier. Even after I've sent the other off with my swiftly dwindling airship inventory."

"So how do we get to it?" PTG asks.

"We have a watch and a broom, but no bench." Grim finishes tending to Cash.

"We need a cunning plan." PTG absentmindedly twiddles his drink umbrella.

Bell leaps out from the bar counter in full upright pounce mode and attacks PTG's arm.

"OWW! Get it off!"

I show him my own scratched and punctured arm. "Yeah, she really goes to town."

Bell becomes instantly distracted and races across the bar and game table before climbing up the drunken skeleton and perching on top of his head.

"Right, we have ten seconds before she gets bored. Let's plan!"

"Wait, what are we planning?"

Bell leaps onto the dice table and proceeds to bat the dice onto the floor.

"Oh good. Now we have forty seconds!"

Grim sighs. "We need to get PTG's bench back and sneak onto the second blimp above Cloud City Pier. Then see what we find."

"The boss is always watching." I quote from my time undercover in full cloaked clandestine garb.

Bell pounces on my arm. "OWW! Get it off!"


That small black bit of fur and needle like claws has decided that leaping onto us and holding on with her little paws is an excellent game.

Unfortunately neither Jenny Wren nor I think so and I remonstrate with my partner.

“Keep your little cur under control, or I will do something about it!”

A look of horror crosses Jenny’s face and she furiously exclaims:

“Animals have rights too!”

I see in the corner of my eye a twitching of that little body in anticipation of another leap and casually place my broom in its line of sight.


And then gets impaled on the stiff bristles of my broom.

Now my broom is a mystical one and is programmed to tidy or clean everything up.

It was only a little whoosh, but o
...[Message truncated]
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PTG (anotherPTG)

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However, in the back of my mind I am worrying about what disaster my partner Jenny Wren is about to spring on all of us, so there is some urgency in our reading of this ancient text.

While I stumble over some of the language, Shelley seems to be totally familiar with it and is soon nodding as if she uderstands all of it.

I turn to her: "Well, what now?"

But before she can answer>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>


Spot the Ladybird is having a great time with broom, they are playing tag. Then Spot announces she's hungry and decides to fly off in search of her favourite munchies, won't be long she says, there are some great plants by the statue in the thicket, ought to be lots of munchies there.

Atishoo, sneeze, snort, where are my hankies says Shelley, back in a mo, it blew up into the Statue. Racing down the stairs, Shelley stumbles and falls head first into the Labarotory.

Dusting herself down, checking for broken bones and suchlike, she finds a rather nasty scratch on her knee and shin, in the medicine cabinet is a bandage, "sorted" she says.

OOOOO, I like Alchemic Converters, says Shelley, reminds of the time back in the school Lab and our science teacher, oh he was a dream.

"PTG", Shelley shouts, "Can you come here and ring that book with you as well, please"

"Cor" says PTG, "I love experiments"

"That 1st page" says Shelley, "is it really blank or has is it been written in invisible ink?

"I can decipher some of the words on the 2nd page, but I feel we need the help of one Grim's techie thingies for that."

PTG, your the brains, can you make up a potion, so if we paintbrush it over the 1st page, it will reveal all".

"I'll have a go" says PTG,

Just as PTG, is about to look at all the lotions and potions to mix up, we both hear a strange whirring noise and crunch, then the familiar voices of our comrades in arms............. "Spot Spotted us" says Jen and told us where you were, so me and Grim crash landed near the Tower. All for One etc Guys.............Where are you? PTG ? Shelley?.................


As I ponder my current predicament, one thing is overtly apparent. Chain mail itch really is an annoyance.

I shift with discomfort in my stolen suit of armour and try to peer through the eye slit. But my stature, though better than Grim's, is insufficient for the task of proper surveillance.

"Ah, Guard. Are the intruders locked in the cell?"

I cannot nod, so have to answer. I try a deep voice. "Yes, my Lord."

"Good, now onto- … wait. What's wrong with your voice?"

Panic. Think. Respond. "Uh… I'm transitioning. And I ask that you respect my life choice."

A small round of applause is my response. "So brave."

Thank you Caitlyn Jenner.

"Now, on to business. I trust the Spring Event is sufficiently delayed?"

"Yes, my Lord. The update was rolled out days ago. We have kidnapped the pets of the developers and made them wait until the following week to activate the Event."

"Excellent! And the puzzles?"

"We made sure the denizens became complacent that they were financially secure, before ripping it away. We had to kidnap family members for that one."

"Marvellous! Now, onto our problematic people."

"Patient One is missing. There are rumours he has been hospitalised."

"By us?"

"Sadly, no. He was last seen back at his military camp."

"Unacceptable! We cannot reach him there!"

"We could use the capture of his friends to lure him out, my Lord."

"Watch your place, number one. I devise the nefarious schemes around here!"

"Of course, my Lord."

"We will use the capture of his friends to lure him out of hiding!"

More applause. "Excellent plan, My Lord!" "Genius!"

The sycophantism is making me nauseous. Or it could be the sweaty smell of the guard I king hit. Either way, the sooner I get out of this suit, the better.

"Find the Sweeper!"

"Yes my Lord."

"All surveillance teams on it! Him and anyone who associates with him!"

"Should we capture Shirley Bassey too?"

"Hmm… Yes, I could do with some entertainment."

There is a bubbling excitement among the clandestine cloaked coven at the idea of a free concert.

"Now leave me!" The Evil Overlord barks his command.

Through the slit in my helmet I watch red, black, purple, blue and green cloaked figures walk past me in single file. I guess the doctor survived the explosion. Or he was replaced.

I turn to clank out after them.

"Wait, guard!"

I sigh, turn back and stand in tippee-toes to catch any glimpse of the leader. I can only see the top of his hood. It is a splendid shimmering gold. He is seated in the captains chair on the bridge of the airship, looking out through the glass.

"Why is the Griffin loose?!"

We both watch Gary fly past.

"I'll check on it right away, my Lord."

I clank out and head straight back to the cells where I find Grim. The guard is still unconscious. I gratefully remove my helmet and hand her the phone that was strapped to my head.

"Great. I was getting worried." Grim starts tapping the little pictures on the screen before the whole bridge event begins to replay on the phone.

"They know Gary is loose."

"Maybe that will distract them for a while." Grim studies the phone carefully.

"Can you see any faces?"

"No, and the leader never turns around." Grim frowns. "But we do have proof of interference in the MC realm."

"Do you think the pets are up here too?" I feel antsy at the thought of a poor poodle in chains, or a pitiable parakeet bound and gagged.

"I don't know." Grim sighs at her broken watch. "But we have to get out of here."

"You think Gary will help?"

"The second we got the shackles off he bowled us over and flew awa
...[Message truncated]
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PTG (anotherPTG)

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PTG does not explode literally, fortunately, but he does manage to spray the remains his foul concoction all over me. I am also annoyed that he lumps my very successful one-rabbit rescue of Jenifer in with the cunning group plans that so often gang a-gley.

With great enthusiasm Jenifer offers to assist with the clothing fail, and she and I retreat to the secret passage for privacy. Our best efforts result in something unfortunately like a Little Red Riding Hood getup. I put my new top hat away, as it looks rather silly with the hood.

Jenifer studies me critically. "Yeah, we're getting you a replacement doublet and vest

"I can't go back out there looking like this!" I protest. The corset and little skirt come to my knees, and the red cape to my ankles. The much-anticipated release of the House of Schpadoinkle is just not working for me.

"You can't go out naked!" exclaims Jenifer. "Well, maybe you could…. You are covered in fur all over.

"We are SOOO not going there! Can't you take me over to Kaley's now?"

"But we just got the gang all back together," pouts Jenifer. "Except for Cap'n PogoRandy. Maybe I should write him another get well poem." She opens the secret door into the Library. "PTG, do you think I should write Randy another poem?"

The response appears to be an explosion of green smoke.


With Jenny Wren and Grim temporarily out of the room as they rearrange their dress (or whatever serves for clothing) I turn back to Shelley and say:

“Well, what does it say?”

In her excitement she has reverted to her mother tongue and a stream of gibberish pours from her lips.

Fortunately I still have the little Babelfish in my ear and so:

"There are many things to tell you PTG and really we should wait until the other two return before I continue”

I snort! In my experience any two females in a dress shop can spend the day there, including coffee and tea breaks, without purchasing anything at all!

It is their “hobby” or “vocation in life”. I have even known them to do such “shopping” without any money at all to buy anything with.

“Let’s just begin and I’ll repeat anything important when they return, OK?"

“Well”, she continues, “It is stated here that the Castle was built on old ruins of a preexisting mystical structure. There are in fact some of the remaining old stones around the front of the Source Gates. There are tunnels behind that barred door. There is another entrance to these tunnels behind the door with the fluorescent Runes and these are even today guarded by the floating Avengers.”

“These are ancient – much older than the Castle itself.

And in these tunnels are dwellings that house (or have housed) the Ancients”

I nod and begin to form a Cunning Plan!

If the Ancients are still there they will be able to tell us how to defeat the evil that has permeated the Castle and so restore peace and harmony to all its citizens!

But how to gain access to them?

I smile as the other two members of our little coterie return once more all bedaubed in the last year’s sale items from a jumble-sale. These were even rejected from the HOS storeroom.

Jenny once more knocks over the retort and the few drops remaining in it touch the floor and sputter in a cloud of obnoxious vapour.

We do now have a demolition expert with us and we do have a tunneling expert with us.

We can probe with our pets until we find where they are or were.

“Grim, have you any idea where we can find some explosives?”

Jenny Wren’s eyes light up like Christmas tree baubles and all her adornments on MY hammock begin to sway, until the baby crocodile pinned to one sleeve begins to escape its shell.

Grim, ever the logical one asks: “Why?” And is sharply elbowed it her ribs (as rabbits also have ribs which cause sudden pain when elbowed?)

She follows this up with another pertinent question: “Where are we going?”

Shelley replies: “To the deep tunnels in Cloud City”

Grim frowns, which is an unusual sight in a large rabbit, and usually means that it is hungry.

“There aren’t any, I’ve explored all round there and there are only surface tunnels”

Shelley grins and points to Page 666 of the Book of Knowledge: “As it is in black and white, it is bound to be right, and it is all written down…..”

Grim brusquely interrupts her: “Where’s the map”

Shelley and I both look at one another somewhat discomforted, and then at Page 666. In minute handwriting at the bottom of the page, however, is an Addendum: Map on page 6666.

I sigh and return to the laboratory!>>>>>>>>>>


Hey y'all--Randy really is sick because he finally posted-----but it's in the wrong place. Check out my Friends of Eastendteddy thread! Hilarious!!!!!!!


I slowly open one eye muttering WHAT THE H*** is that noise, jingel bells?? in April, it is April no?? I try to sit up and notice me hands and footies are bound,,handcuffed to a bed?

Wait a cotton picckin minute , last thin I remebers is doing a walk about trying to figure out how to bust out of this crazy jello 3 d world we stuck in,,I tug wiff all me might and snap

goes on cuff, grunt groan and one footie free,, grunt groannnnn and stop mid air for I hears footie steps heading me way, my eyeballs bulge outs me head what the H*** Larry,

Curly, Moe comin at me wiff a hugmungus syringeie thinie takes two to carry the D*** thin

OH NO WAY IN H*** are they stickin moi wiff dat der thin I wait till they get close then wham bang boom round house kick scoreeeeeeeeeeee twoferone,, dat leave Curly fast like a bunnie I start a joke and Curly laughs so hard he falls over and clunck on da door ,,

out like a light,,I resume me grunts and break me otter footie loss, and jump offs dat table and yep you guessed it BANG on me face you #$%^&*( idjit the otter hand still cuffed ,, no matter I take off like a bat out of H*** and not thinking as I go through da door the table is sideways and as I fall sliding face first down da hall the otter cuff breaks
...[Message truncated]
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PTG (anotherPTG)

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PTG hands out shovels.

"Can we PLEASE get back to the plot?"

I frown. "We have a plot?"


The three females of the species: Jenny Wren, Shelley and Roo look at the garden implement with wonder as they have never indulged in any actual digging before.

Such matters had been left to the male of the species.

Grim is exempt from the hand out as she is fully experienced in the art of excavation and tunneling.

I explain, if only to get their open mouths shut and quiet for a while. The last thing that I want is a chorus of “Heigh-Ho, Heigh-Ho, it's off to work we go”.

“Grim has correlated the set of maps we ‘borrowed’ from the CEO’s office with the ancients scroll revealed by the magical ink.

“Where we are standing in the Library are TWO sets of tunnels - one under the other.

“If we move the lectern with the Book of Knowledge and dig underneath it we will reach first the upper one and then below it the older one.

Grim sighs. She points out: “There is no need to dig down to the upper one as there is an aperture to get us there”.

The other three are now slightly more impressed as they rest on their pristine shovels.

Jenny Wren asks: “What then?”

I smile: “You dig!”

There is an explosion of the disgruntled female members of the now SIX Musketeers

“All for one and one for all!” I remind them.

“I am the planner and Cap’n Bob, in that abomination of theatrical attire that passes for Aussie fashion, is not fit to hop on one leg and dig with the other”

“You are the grunts so start digging! I cannot find a JCB in the HOS inventory so it is spade-work in its most literal sense!”

I may have been abrupt in my last remark as I am felled by at least one of the others, but it may have been due to their lack of expertise in wielding this tool.


"Aah "says Roo."I'm sorry but I couldn't possibly use this shovel.Its a right handed one & I'm left handed".


I'm feeling perverse. I grin, take Roo's shovel, invert the handle and give it back.

"Here. Now it is a left-handed shovel!"

(In an alternate world I am the odd one out in a house of lefties. I know how to make do!)


Meanwhile I am completely unable to do any manual labour as I am on the ground laughing at PTG's hilariously genuine remark.

“I am the planner..."

Just recalling those words has me doubled over in hysterics.

I finally manage to compose myself to ask the ultimate question.

"PTG? Do you have a cunning plan?"

From that point onward no-one can do any digging whatsoever.

Oh, the joy of laughter...


How about we get the captain to press gang the gnomes, they're a lot closer to the ground than we are & digging should be easy for them.


I go over to da corner #$%^&**()_+_)(*&^ all da way and tearing off da <<<<I'am with stupid>>>>>>> T shirt and PINK I mean PINK cumberbutt really Jen?? I am nw in me Tarzan outfit bare chested and loin clothed yeahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh a few adjustie and I get a banger of an seeing we no longer have da Moles ,, how I miss dem wittel fur balls, but that gives me an ideara.

I start ripping apart da book stands the desk da chairs and neatly pile up da wood.

Now I need nails, gears, chains,oh oh and man could I use dat mine cart PERFECTTTTTT

Ummmm what kin I use fer a scoop??I need to lay down da wood fer a track thinie,, oh oh oh gots it I kin get da Blacksmitie to weld all kinds of metal itno a scoop yeahhhhhh now I is cooking wiff gas, oppsie sowwie wrong gas I feel Jen breating over me shoulder, whatcha doing Cap robot Tarzan Randy?Go away you female lunnie toonie you would not understand and iffin ya smuck me I will throw you in dat worm hole .

Perfect plan Roo PTG and Grim join me in da corner and all of a sudden ROO says oh oh what a great idea ,,, what is it???? PTG gives me da cause he gots it what I plan to do,,,, I look at da otters and say with a huge sigh**** okay iffin you be that much of a gang of idjiots and thunck more about cloths and craponacracker , let me clue you in,

See da wood layed out like tracks?? they all say uh huh and I get the otter stuff I need I will build a plow,,you do know what a plow is right????dat way we will be dugged outahere in no time


"excuse me "said Roo. "Me & the girls ain't moving an inch 'til we know who's going to pull that big old plough"


I am mortified at what Randy has done to his outfit, but at least he's keeping the glittered cod piece.

In the distance we hear a megaphone.


"Heavens to Betsy!" I cry. "That sounds mighty ominous!"

While PTG straightens the tracks, Randy start barking out instructions on how to build a plow. Grim, however just Googles it, then shows us all pictures with handy instructions involving household odds and ends.

"Ohhhh!" All the ladies are far more impressed with these instructions, than Randy's nonsensical ramblings.

Within four and a half minutes we have lashed together every spade we can find and attached them to the front of Randy's Rocket Wheelchair.

As we know Randy has the perfect amount of ballast necessary to break through any stone surface, we strap him into the chair and point him in the direction PTG suggests.

"Is this safe?" Roo inquires.

We all shrug and Grim and I take an axe to each regulator in perfect unison.

Captain RoboRocketRandy plows through the floor, leaving a Captain RoboRocketRandy-in-a-Rocket-powered-Wheelchair shaped hole.

The noise seems to take forever to stop. Though it does become quieter over time. PTG gathers books and ink while we wait. I turn Randy
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