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Thread: The Amp, the Guitar and the Studio

  1. #41
    Name Manglin' Putz alantig's Avatar
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    "Damn it," Gilmour screamed, "I hated that talking over the track crap when Waters did it, and he was technically my bandmate. Granted, sometimes I think he was in a different band than the one I was in, but that's beside the point right now. So what makes you think you, a bloody engineer, can just insert a 'Help me' into MY track and think it's going to be okay? On top of that, you did it into the talkbalk mic, so it didn't even get rec..." Gilmour stopped.

    The control room was empty.

    A mouse farted, but Gilmour missed that.
    Alan

    "I watched approximately 45 seconds of 'Rock Of Ages'. It was like getting punched in the soul." - Abby Krizner

  2. #42
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    The Leprechaun was plotting his next move...



    But, meanwhile, Bennett called Buck Dharma, whom he knew would enter the story as a subplot and somehow be figured into the arc...someway....somewhere....



    While this was going on, a great Dave Gilmore solo was playing in the background...




    Having posted little or nothing to do with the current story line, Bennett slunk into the corner, convinced that Opraman was another sign of age....he last saw Saturday Night Live when Sam Kinnison was guest hosting and John Belushi was pitching "Little Frosted Donuts".

  3. #43
    Author to Author note:

    Hey Alan, we have a story conflict going! I think we cross-posted while I was still editing.

  4. #44
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    Quote Originally Posted by LSchefman View Post
    But he did not consider himself a collector of cars.

    "Nick Mason has one of the world's premium car collections", Gilmore whispered to no one in particular, not realizing how jealous he was, as he continued to drive off.

  5. #45
    Quote Originally Posted by rugerpc View Post
    Bite me
    So Les reared back on his haunches. His mouth stretched back toward his long tufted ears. It was an evil grin -- bearing a fresh set of fresh white razors -- claws raised high -- each pointing down -- hanging from his paws like black icicles.. It was a hungry winter and there was nothing boney to dull his grin. Bill's nostrils flavored exposing every gray strand. "You wouldn't dare" he snarled. But this pleased Les more than a Jersey shrink dressed as a meat-Popsicle. "A Chocolatecoco fence post would complete your look, Oppraman" be chuckled to himself. "As a matter of fact, Bill" Les replied as he snapped back to the moment "I would!"

    Les' ears pulled back and his brow tightened. His eyes opened wide. He was wild at the prospect of a bloody battle. But Bill knew something Les did not. He had a nickel .45 with pearl grips in his waist. But just when things were about to get good, in walked the Leprechaun.
    One Life

  6. #46
    A♥ hoards guitars ♥A rugerpc's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by alantig View Post

    The control room was empty.

    A mouse farted, but Gilmour missed that.
    Gilmour terminated the video feed from the studio control room into his dash display as he sped along in his Vantage...
    Thbbbt...
    Gork what your need to gork.
    Lexicon

  7. #47
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    A New Jersey Shrink dressed as a meat-Popsicle. Thanks for that. A phrase I will never forget for the rest of my life.

    When we were young, fooling kids we would make up our own "Mad-Libs" for fun....we were nerds. Anyway....somehow, the noun, verb, adverb and celebrity character turned out to read: "The Bloody Washcloth of Porky Pig". Two phrases I am doomed to remember for the rest of my life.

    Back to the story.....

  8. #48
    A♥ hoards guitars ♥A rugerpc's Avatar
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    Doc Bill slid the pearl .45 from his waistband and put two straight through the brain pan of the Leprechaun. His dog Les, named after Ell Chefman, had been trying to warn him all along, not bite him. "I simply have to get that dog's teeth fixed," he thought to himself as he went through the pockets of the Leprechaun.

    Pulling out a mix tape with the words "more cowbell" scrawled almost unreadably on one side, Doc Bill Ruger picked up the phone and dialed Hands Mantic.

    "Hands, I repaired your pimp gun and was about to go to the range to test it when I had to drill a Leprechaun."

    "Holy Goldtop! The Leprechauns are back?" Hands said instinctively reaching for his wallet.

    "Yes, they are. Call Mike Three."
    Last edited by rugerpc; 02-24-2013 at 11:26 AM.
    Thbbbt...
    Gork what your need to gork.
    Lexicon

  9. #49
    A♥ hoards guitars ♥A rugerpc's Avatar
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    Bennett grinned an evil grin.

    Chefman managed to just make it to the bathroom.

    Doc Ruger stared at the neon Ravens sign.

    The dog Les was asleep under the Roland drum kit.

    Hands Mantic searched for his wallet.

    Mike Three sharpened his scissors.

    Rango lay passed out on the nail salon floor.

    Sergio stared into the red bloodshot eyes of the Leprechaun.

    The Leprechaun stared back.

    Linda died.

    Gilmour drove.

    Davy Knowles rolled over and kissed Autumn Sky awake.

    A mouse farted.

    Paul Reed Smith heard it.
    Last edited by rugerpc; 02-24-2013 at 11:27 AM.
    Thbbbt...
    Gork what your need to gork.
    Lexicon

  10. #50
    As he raced along on the way to Heathrow, Gilmour heard his iPhone ring. "Gilmour," he said. The phone's display did not register a number, but Gilmour knew who the call was from. "Yes, M," he said, that text with the picture was sent to you within seconds of the man's death. No, I am not certain what the "O" shape means, but I have a suspicion I'm going to fly to the US to check on.. Yes sir, thank you. I'll report in once I have a better idea."

    Gilmour took the leather gig bag with his new PRS from the cubby behind his seat, and grabbed a small Tumi suitcase. He slung the guitar over his shoulder, locked up the car, and walked into the airport. As far as onlookers were concerned, he was just another rock star. But he was in actuality 009 of Her Majesty's Secret Service, MI6.

    And with his guitar in hand, he was licensed to thrill.

  11. #51
    Cream Crackered Mikegarveyblues's Avatar
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    The mouse farted again.
    "That damned mouse!" Paul muttered to himself. Pauls hearing was the stuff of legend, but this was a legend built on fact, not myth. From the tiny whisper of the mouse's guff Paul could detect exactly what breed - In this case a house mouse (Mus musculus). A small rodent, a mouse, one of the most numerous species of the genus Mus. he knew it's size to within a fraction of an inch and he could calculate from the reverbarations exactly which direction it was facing.
    "South East. I've got you in my sights!" He whispered as he crept towards where he believed the mouse to be hiding.

    As he got closer he suddenly realised something wasn't quite right. There was another sound accompanying the mouse fart. Clearly human.
    "Come out now!" He growled. From behind a crate of neck blanks appeared the girl with the Dragon Guitar. Paul eased as he realised the girl was no threat.
    "I'm sorry Paul. I know what's going on and trust me... You're gonna need me. By the way, can you sign the scratch plate?" "Sure." Paul said as he fished out a gold Sharpie.

    Meanwhile...

    Sergio was now face to face with the Leprechaun. Just minutes before he'd been thinking about his career. Few people knew he was also a prize winning author of high brow erotica. His previous trilogy of books (Which he wrote under a pen name) had gone straight to the top of the book charts. 'Fifty Shades Of Blanc' had sold by the millions and was on the verge of being made into a Hollywood film. It was an erotic story based on love, sex, desire and re-building and re-finishing a PRS guitar the lead character had recently aquired.

    His latest series had run into some problems though. A mix up at the printers meant the latest novel had been titled Fifty Shades Of Chaltecoco Pernambuco. This had caused merry hell and had forced PRS Books to issue a press release setting the story straight. Thankfully that little issue had been resolved but he could have done without it.

    Now he had other issues. He was face to face with the Leprechaun.
    "I'm here for the lucky charms" it said menacingly....
    Modified SE Bernie Marsden, Fender Strat
    Laney Lionheart L5T-112, Fender Mustang 1, POD HD 500X
    Wishing for a U.S. made Blue Bernie!
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  12. #52
    Cream Crackered Mikegarveyblues's Avatar
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    After signing the girl with the Dragon guitar's scratchplate Paul placed a call To Gilmour.
    "We're going to need 0010 as well. Call the Knopfler!!!" With that Gilmour placed the call.
    Last edited by Mikegarveyblues; 02-23-2013 at 06:22 PM.
    Modified SE Bernie Marsden, Fender Strat
    Laney Lionheart L5T-112, Fender Mustang 1, POD HD 500X
    Wishing for a U.S. made Blue Bernie!
    Click here for SE Bernie Marsden demo!
    Lessons, covers, backing tracks, etc...www.youtube.com/mikegarveyblues

  13. #53
    Name Manglin' Putz alantig's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by LSchefman View Post
    Author to Author note:

    Hey Alan, we have a story conflict going! I think we cross-posted while I was still editing.
    No worries - we'll just explain it away with a trite parallel universes joining motif!
    Alan

    "I watched approximately 45 seconds of 'Rock Of Ages'. It was like getting punched in the soul." - Abby Krizner

  14. #54
    Name Manglin' Putz alantig's Avatar
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    Knopfler listened as Gilmour explained what was going on. "Hmmm...." He pondered for a moment and said, "Sound like you're in dire straits, mate."

    Gilmour held the phone at arms' length as he shouted into the phone, "DAMN IT, 0010 - THAT #@% WASN'T #$#@ING FUNNY THE FIRST MOTHER#$&*(@@ 6397 TIMES YOU #$@(% WELL SAID IT!!!!" Gilmour paused and realized he had just done what no secret agent should ever do - he'd drawn attention to himself. Luckily, he was in a Starbucks filled with the self-absorbed, so the only person who noticed was a diminutive pink-haired lass who whispered, "My boyfriend can probably fix your problem." Gilmour just shook his head and pulled the phone back to his ear. He said, "I need your help, 0010 - I wish you were here." The pink-haired lass could hear the muffled sounds of outrage through the phone - she made a mental note to ask Paul about it later, figuring he'd probably heard it. Her thoughts were interrupted by Gilmour speaking into the phone, "Yeah, not so funny on that end, now, is it?"
    Alan

    "I watched approximately 45 seconds of 'Rock Of Ages'. It was like getting punched in the soul." - Abby Krizner

  15. #55
    Quote Originally Posted by alantig View Post
    No worries - we'll just explain it away with a trite parallel universes joining motif!
    Way to think, there, bro. Way to think!

  16. #56
    Name Manglin' Putz alantig's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by LSchefman View Post
    Way to think, there, bro. Way to think!
    My long-lost evil twin taught me that!
    Alan

    "I watched approximately 45 seconds of 'Rock Of Ages'. It was like getting punched in the soul." - Abby Krizner

  17. #57
    Ell Chefman got off the Russian helicopter that had ferried him from the airport at Vilnius, Lithuania to Lida, in Belarus, formerly Soviet territory. The helicopter ride had been a bit uncomfortable, but he was now where he needed to be to complete his research. Chefman remembered something he'd personally experienced, but had to return to the original documents to understand fully what had happened and why. And to find an answer.

    Lida had been the scene of countless invasions for hundreds of years, where communities had grown and in turn been destroyed by wars, by Teutons, Poles. Russians, Tatars, Lithuanians, Princes, Dictators, and Khans. As such it was a treasure trove of European history. And it had secrets. One of them was the involvement of Belarus in the disposition of French Army POWs taken during Napoleon's Invasion in the War of 1812.

    You see, in Lida's library were the Archives of Belarus. Chefman knew that the archives included "Lists of the French army POWs of medical ranks left with the wounded in the military hospital in Minsk, 12 January - 22 November 1813" as well as "List of the French POWs who died in the Minsk hospital. 8 April - 15 June 1813."

    Chefman spoke with the library's director, and asked to see the manuscripts. As a lawyer, and a person who'd lectured at the University of Michigan, he was accorded access to them, accompanied by a library employee. As he sat with white cotton gloves on, so as not to damage the delicate paper leafing through the 200 year old contents with a magnifying glass, he found what he wanted.

    His own name - or shall we say, a pseudonym he'd used while serving in the French Army as a Medical Officer - was on the first list of Medical Officer POWs. Searching the second list, of French officers who'd died in the hospital during this period, he saw his own from his faked death, but that was not what he was looking for.

    He wanted to find something else, the name of the man who'd told him of a secret cache buried beneath the old 14th Century fortress of Lida Castle. He needed the man's name, and hoped for burial information, because he knew that his comrade of those days had been buried with a map inscribed on a gold coin he'd made Chefman place in his trousers before his death. Typically, the Russian captors had stolen the French boots, coats, and hats, primarily for their buttons and decorations, and the men were buried in their trousers and shirt. The coin had been cleverly hidden.

    Chefman knew that all that would be left of this burial would be the skeleton and the coin, which being gold, would not decompose or deteriorate. Maybe there'd be a few buttons and fragments of leather. But how many other skeletons might be in the pit, on top, in other layers? It would, he knew, be like finding a needle in a haystack. And it would be on the outskirts of Minsk, where so many battles had taken place in 200 years.

    But if he could find the burial, he could find the map. And the hidden secret he, and the world, now badly needed.

    After several hours with the manuscripts, he believed that he understood the burial locations of several of the men, including his friend. He might get lucky. But he needed help. It was a bit vague, and the appearance of the area had changed radically in places over 200 years and several wars. But he had enough information for a good guess as to the location, if he could recognize the topography. He had been in many armies; he was very good with a map.

    An awful lot of prisoner and civilian killing had taken place between 1180, when the area was first settled, and 1945, when WWII had finally ended. There would be much to sort through. There could be layers of mass graves.

    He walked from the library to a nearby bookstore; in the Belorusian he dredged up from his now-200 year old memories. he called to someone behind the counter and asked, "У вас ёсць карта горада?". He was handed a map, and gave the woman at the counter a few rubles. He looked up and noticed that the woman appeared to be nearly fifty, but quite beautiful. He was taken aback, very impressed.

    "Why do you want this?" she asked in English.

    "Oh," he said, still somewhat startled by her appearance and fluency in English. "I'm a tourist."

    "You don't appear to be much of a tourist," she said, "without a camera, or luggage except that instrument bag and a small backpack."

    "Clean underwear and socks, a guitar, a pair of jeans, and a toothbrush," he replied with that grin that only Americans have. "I won't be here that long. I'm doing some camping."

    "It's not that warm yet," said the woman. "Camping with no tent or blanket in only your underwear? That's not such a brilliant idea for a man your age."

    Again with the "man your age," he thought. "Well, if I were young like you, I might get by then." He walked toward the door.

    "You're talking to an old lady," she called back.

    "Some old lady," he said. He left wondering if he could think of an excuse to buy another book, and went looking for a place to have a drink.

    He needed to go to Minsk, and he needed some local help for the dig; he would also need to poke around Lida Castle when he got his hands on the map on the coin. It was not going to be easy. Belorusian laws about war graves were strict, and required academic permits for digs. This would have to be on the QT, because the chances of the authorities believing him as to the purpose of this wild goose chase would be less than zero.
    Last edited by LSchefman; 02-23-2013 at 09:55 PM.

  18. #58
    Name Manglin' Putz alantig's Avatar
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    In Vegas, Red Romen packed his gear with help from his semi-trusty if somewhat dim assistant.

    "Ratchet."

    "What?"

    "Ratchet!"

    "What???"

    "Take this RATCHET, moron, and put it in the bag. We're almost done. Hatchet."

    "What?"

    "HATCHET!"

    "What????"

    "The hatchet, dolt, put it in the bag."

    "Oh, okay."

    "Now latch it."

    "What?"

    The sound of Red Romen's head bouncing off the ancient tabletop sounded much like a coconut being struck with a cricket bat.

    In Maryland, Paul's head snapped to attention. "That wood! That glorious wood! I must have it!!!"

    A mouse farted.

    Paul picked up the phone. "Nutzall - put Beano on the next kitchen order."
    Alan

    "I watched approximately 45 seconds of 'Rock Of Ages'. It was like getting punched in the soul." - Abby Krizner

  19. #59
    Senior Member sergiodeblanc's Avatar
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    "Um, what exactly are you planning on doing with these two dudes tied up in the back of your RV?" Ratchet asked the creature.

    "Well I know what you're gonna do with 'em Ratchet! Move 'em into my lair! snarf snarf." replied Red "and do it quickly! I don't have all day, I think that those korean ladies I ate at the nail salon are pushin' through if you know what I mean! snarf snarf."

    Ratchet had been running errands for the beast all day with no appreciation from the leprechaun, it was in fact because of him that the creature had been released earlier that day. Ratchet was obsessed with perfectly book matched maple top guitars and after being told a thousand times that there will never be a "perfect" book match, he unwisely set into motion a series of events that led to the re-animation of the ginger menace.

    "When are you gonna teach me how to do a re-top on this Rosewood ltd. Red? I think it's a great guitar but it could look better... if those dudes weren't so lazy at the PRS factory! I mean how hard can it be?!"

    "Snarf snarf. I told you Ratchet! Yous gets what yous wants when I gets what I needs! snarf snarf" Red hissed.

    While Ratchet dragged the bodies of Rango and Sergio out of the RV and into Red's lair, he thought to himself; "What am I doing? How did I let things get so bad? who the hell is gonna clean up this place, and why does this troll keep saying "snarf snarf" all the time? I mean he does kinda look like that weird dog/gnome creature from the "Thundercats" cartoon, but what the F#$k is wrong with this dude?"

    Sergio awakened to find himself and Rango tied up in in the lair. Both men were bound to a middle seat from a 1989 Dodge Caravan that was repurposed as furniture in a space that looked like an episode of "Hoarders" had collided with the left over inventory of a thousand NAMM shows. There were piles of unfinished Schon guitars, stacks of Trans-trems, and general musical instrument parts hanging off of shelves like icicles from gutters. In the corner was a stack of old apple II C CRT monitors hooked up to a CCTV system that had live feeds from every TJ Maxx dressing room in the Las Vegas area, if Segio wasn't creeped out enough already, the dull sobbing from Rango would get him there.

    "What is happening to us!?" Rango said, "Why are we wearing Snuggies? and what kind of psychopath braids his own hair into rope? Please God! Turn off the TV's!!!"

    Sergio could not blame Rango for his temporary break-down, he had once rolled up into a fetal position and cried himself to sleep after going to Ikea one Christmas season, he knew the pain Rango was feeling, and after seeing the unidentified stains on his Snuggie, he could fight back the tears no more... The men cried, but it was a manly kind of crying. The kind of crying that men only do alone in the shower when nobody is looking, but there would be no steam to combat the puffiness of their eyes.

    "I'm glad we didn't get facial's" Rango said, "It would've been a waste of money."

  20. #60
    Senior Member sergiodeblanc's Avatar
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    Buck Dharma drove his Honda Element across town to his favorite park at about ten thirty PM later that night. Buck loved his Element for the same reason every dude that owns one tells you at party's... "You can hose it out Bro!" He backed into his favorite parking space, turned on his fog lights while turning off the main headlights as is custom, and sat and waited.

    Buck noticed a blue BMW circling the lot slowly. The car would come up to Buck's Element, stop, and then peel out. On the third go round, after an especially impressive neutral-drop (if you go in for that sort of thing) the BMW backed into the spot next to him and parked.

    Buck knew the deal. Tonight was his night. He did what he always does for these occasions and started the hour long BOC playlist on his iPhone and sprayed some Jovan "Sex Appeal for men" to set the mood.

    The BMW window rolls down to expose what at first glance appeared to be SRV, but younger, and less dead. "Hey bro! whasup?"

    "You know whasup!" Buck said, "Nice car, what'll I call you?"

    "My name is Johnny, Johnny Turbo" the man in the BMW said, "What's your name?"

    To which Buck replied; "My name is Buck, and I came to"...............
    Last edited by sergiodeblanc; 02-24-2013 at 06:43 AM.

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