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Thread: The Amp, the Guitar and the Studio (book 2)

  1. #1
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    The Amp, the Guitar and the Studio (book 2)

    If you think this thread is boring, you should read these:
    Unicorns-Rainbows-Guitars
    The-Amp-the-Guitar-and-the-Studio

    This is a collaborative story. You are invited to enjoy the story or even add to it. Feel free to add characters and plot twists. Please be careful not to completely derail or end another member's developing story line. Let people have most of the control over characters that they introduce. As a general rule - don't kill off characters you have not introduced, unless of course it is a minor bad guy someone put in your way. The main bad guy(s) will require a team effort to kill. If you have a doubt or suggestion, PM the author handling the character in question at the moment. Make sure you have read the whole story before jumping in. Refer back to posts as an author may have edited his storyline a bit in an important way. Have fun. I'll update the cast of characters as we go along in post #2

    ****

    Hands Mantic shuffled through the Kohl's store with a selection of wallets. Mike Threeseven was coming for a visit and experience told the revered sword maker that that could only mean trouble in the retention of his billfold. As he checked out with his Kohl's charge he got 10% off for using the charge.

    The wallets were already marked 40% off and he had a coupon he had gotten in the mail for another 30% off. On top of that, the cashier handed him a stack of instant coupons and asked him to select one and rub off the covering to reveal another discount. Hands pick the fourth one and, rubbing it with his fingernail, revealed another 20% off. The charges were applied sequentially, not all at once, but the total was still quite small.

    In the end, for five wallets originally priced at between $25 and $32 each, Hands paid only $42.83 instead of well over $140. "I don't know how you guys stay in business…" Hands remarked to the cute little cashier.

    "Volume." she replied with a wink.
    Last edited by rugerpc; 03-22-2013 at 11:22 AM.
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  2. #2
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    Please see the guidelines in the OP. Characters introduced in previous episodes should stay under the chief control of the authors who originally introduced them.

    Cast in order of appearance:

    Hands Mantic - ♥K - walletless enforcer and sword smith
    Mike Threeseven - ♦3 - AKA Thee Mike - Armed Special Forces
    Sergio - ♥Q - Rapper Extraordinaire
    Bennett - ♠8 - retired head shrinker
    El Chefman - ♦J - aging studio engineer and highlander
    Doc Bill Ruger - ♥A - dentist, small studio owner and beginning guitarist
    The Dragon
    Paul Reed Smith - guitar luthier and dragon master
    Shawn Nutzall - head of the PRS Special Forces Unit
    Paul Miles - Private Stock Team
    Roger Dean - Artist
    Last edited by rugerpc; 04-15-2013 at 12:12 PM.
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    Hands Mantic stopped at the Post Office on his way home. He maintained a P.O. Box to insulate his family against new people he met until they could be thoroughly vetted. Currently the most suspicious people he had contact with were the members of the PRS Official Forum. His wife was constantly telling him that he needed to quit as a mod because "Those people are clearly crazy."

    Upon opening his box, Hands saw that there was a small package. He took the package back to his Unimog and inspected it. There was no return address and his name was misspelled. He passed the package under the portable detector Mike Threeseven and given him, but the detector was silent.

    When Mike had given him the detector many months ago, Hands had asked how it worked and what, exactly, it detected. "You don't want to know," was all Mike would tell him. Hands had passed the detector over many objects over the past few months to try to discern its secrets, but it never made a peep. He had even covertly scanned his wife and the toys left behind by Sergio. Nothing. He decided to wait to open the package until he got back home and into the controlled environment of his Hattori Cave.
    Thbbbbbt...
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    In a large ballroom, in an elaborate mansion that was constructed deep below the Earth's surface at the North Pole, lived the 7 "Immortals". They had been known by various names over the eons. From the gods of Mount Olympus who caused the Greeks to cower in fear, to the Protocols of the Elders of Zion, these semi-mythical beings had influenced all of history for millennium.

    In their palace, furnished in art-deco glitz, with chairs made of emeralds and hallways cut from solid diamond, they ruled the world and were the sole proprietors of the planet. Possessed of incredible powers, they held great power and even greater responsibilities. Their charge was to ensure that humanity progressed forward in a coherent manner, towards the ultimate evolution of the human race. They were responsible for the Great Wall of China, The Hanging Gardens of Babylon and Pet Rocks. The Great Pyramids of Giza were built under their direction and architectural guidelines.

    Now, a turning point in history was about to occur. On their giant monitors, they noted that Hands Mantic had received a package...a package that could only have been sent by a Highlander...someone who defied the rules of mortality, and who had lived on this Earth for centuries.

    Checking their monitors, they noted Hands Mantic had received an unmarked package. Recognizing the telltale markings, they understood at once that it had been sent by El Chefman...ostensibly an aging studio Engineer/attorney living in Michigan and producing commercials for McDonald's and Dunkin' Doughnuts.Chefman had sent the package without return address, and without a clue as to where it came from. Knowing Hands' curious nature, he understood that the package would be opened and his plan would begin to germinate.

    Unbeknownst to others...even his own wife, Lester was a highlander...having been born 787 years ago, in a small cottage in Bulgaria, he had migrated West over the centuries, adapting to each society as need be.

    El Chefman had been plotting for hundreds of years. He was waiting for the ideal time. He witnessed the birth of the Printing Press. He was around for the Declaration of Independance. He fought in WW1 as a Russian Soldier, and in WW2 as an English Sergeant. He was in the audience in 1967, when Jimi Hendrix opened for The Monkees. He still had nightmares from that experience.

    Now, it was 2013. The critical date of 12/21/12 had passed. It was time! He had been waiting long enough. He had retrieved the sacred object...stolen from the Immortals in 1535 during a brief stay in what was to become Cozumel, Mexico. Having saved it for over 475 years, he now knew the time was right to implement his diabolical plan. By sending it to Hands, his plan could begin to materialize.

    The immortals, recognizing what was about to transpire, huddled together.

    "We must call Bennett" said the leader. "He is our only contact in that region. He will coordinate the plan of attack. We must prevent Chefman from unleashing the......" He could not bring himself to say it.


    In a basement in New Jersey, as Bennett was scrap-booking all of his guitar ephemera, his phone rang. No one else was home. Bennett never answered the phone....he always screened his calls, and let the machine pick up. But, this time was different. He never saw a Caller ID that said "pick up the phone, you idiot" before, so he gave into temptation and answered the phone. He was to regret that action in the days, weeks and months to follow.
    Last edited by docbennett; 03-23-2013 at 11:48 AM.

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    Hands made his way home from the post office, eager to determine the contents of the package. He was normally an excellent driver. As he drove his Unimog homeward, he nearly broadsided a Volkswagen Beetle in a 4-way intersection. He cursed as he realized he had gone right through a stop sign. 2 miles later, he pulled over, drenched in sweat, having run a red light without realizing it, and nearly being wiped out by a Semi 18 wheeler.

    "What the hell is going on" he said to himself. Two near accidents. This was not only out of character..it was unprecedented. Twice, Hands had almost been killed due to his inattention to the road.

    Luckily, he was almost home. As he pulled into his driveway, parking next to his Range Rover and turned off the engine....he realized that a low humming sound was coming from the package. It was also vibrating slightly to the touch.

    10 minutes later, he realized that he had been in a trance, transfixed on the package with a glazed look on his face, and some drool coming from the corner of his mouth. It had seemed like 5 seconds.

    Studying the package, he realized that his near accidents were the result of the same phenomenon...the package was emitting a strange drone, with an accompanying vibration. It had caused his attention to lapse twice while driving and had just put him into a trace-like state for the past 10 minutes.

    "This package is weird" he thought as he made his way out of the car. he had to concentrate intently to get inside the house. Holding the package, and feeling the vibration, he had to fight off the desire to just nod out and let the vibrations and tone pulsate over him.

    "This thing is stronger than the best exotic they are selling downtown" he said to himself. What the heck could be inside this thing? He looked forward to opening the package when he was safe in his Hattori Cave.


    The immortals knew that Bennett was their only hope. Realizing that Hands had taken the package inside his house...and recognizing that even close proximity to it could result in a total takeover of a weak person's psyche...they were prepared to provide Bennett and his team with all the tools at their disposal to prevent Armageddon.

    Back in Colorado, Hands was inside the house and preparing to open his package.
    Last edited by docbennett; 03-23-2013 at 10:26 AM.

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    Sergio hung up the phone. Bennett's words still rang in his head. Could it be true? Could this be it? Bennett had heard from his handlers....Sergio was a key member of the "mortals" who were given the awesome responsibility of implementing the Immortals' plans whenever human interaction and intervention was required. Obviously, a new team had to be recruited each generation. And, the true nature of the team could never be revealed. They only thought that they were part of some fraternity or group that had similar tastes, hobbies and preferences. For this generation, the Immortals had created an innocuous guitar forum. Those mortals who had been designated as members of the elite team were given an artificial "feel good" memento or talisman, to make them think they were special. In this case, they were all "card holders" or "plank members".....supposedly the "special" members of the group. For the Immortals, it provided relatively fast access to a group of individuals who had no social skills and lacked the talent to engage in normal social intercourse. But, given the anonymity of the internet, they presented themselves as various experts, intellectuals and otherwise "special people". Little did they know that those who knew them mocked them on a regular basis. They were referred to as "Nerds" and "Geeks" by others. They didn't mind. They felt that they were special. It was part of the Immortal's master plan. You get maximum cooperation and assistance when your protagonist does not know they are being manipulated.

    The Immortals didn't care. Whatever it took to manipulate the morals in order to get them to implement the tangible tasks...that is all that mattered.

    So...Bennett had called Sergio and brought him up to speed. Sergio was to call Bill....the team was being assembled.

    In a Dentist's office in Maryland, the phone rang. Bill was waiting for the amalgam to harden. His patient was enjoying the NO2. Bill left his patient unattended, to pick up the phone. It was Sergio. Sergio began with, "Bill...just got a call from Bennett...you're not going to believe this...."
    Last edited by docbennett; 03-23-2013 at 10:34 AM.

  7. #7
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    Sitting in the Hattori Cave, drenched in sweat, Hands knew that there was a great problem, a disturbance to his Chi. He tried the portable detector again. Nothing. It was only then that Hands noticed a small switch recessed in the side of the otherwise unadorned object. The detector Threeseven had given him was completely smooth on all of its 6 sides being shaped somewhat like a brick of platinum, but much lighter.

    The switch had excaped Hands' detection all these months and Hands berated himself for not paying attention to Mike when he was talking about how to use it. He had been thinking instead of how to instruct the PTC in the completion of his 'Raven' and realized now that he had missed a salient point.

    Hands switched on the device and it immediately began a soft beeping. The beeping intensified as he passed the detector closer to the unopened package. Hands was sweating even more.

    He made a quick decision not to open the package until Mike Threeseven arrived in 10 days. He set the package on a shelf far away from his work and tried to busy himself at the forge and with his current sword project. Still, he could not help glancing at the package. Eons of Samurai blood flowed through Hands' veins. Once he made a decision, there was little anyone could do to change his mind.
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    El Chefman was sitting on the throne. To be precise, he was on the toilet, having made it to the bathroom just in time. One of the pitfalls of being nearly 800 years old was his occasional incontinence and inability to control his feces. It was at times quite embarrassing, but he would usually rely on his Depends to conceal his lack of control.

    As he continued his business, his wife called out to him. "Honey, you got some important mail".

    "What is it...I'm kinda occupied right now"

    "It's a return receipt from Colorado. Looks like someone at the PO box signed off on a package you sent".

    "Thanks hon".

    Chefman grinned. It was all coming together as he had planned.

    "Damn" he said out loud. "Honey...get me some toilet paper...I just ran out".
    Last edited by docbennett; 03-23-2013 at 11:47 AM.

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    In the lead covered box from the dig near the castle in Lida, under the parchments, Ell Chefman had found 'the object.' He had brought it back to the States with him when he returned not knowing exactly what it was, but he knew it to be important because it had been buried with the scrolls. He was certain of one thing however, the object had caused his embarrassing incontinence and 'looseness.' He had convinced his wife that it was just aging, but he knew better. Now that 'the object' had been sent to the Hattori Cave, his bowels and bladder would return to normal.

    The other reason, the main reason, Ell has sent 'the object' to Hands was that as head of the Plank Owners, Hands was in a unique position to deal with the strange object and would be able to help coordinate whatever needed to be done, if anything.

    Chefman had left off his return address for security reasons and had instead only embossed a tiny ♦J where the return address should have been. He didn't know that Hands would miss that cue.
    Last edited by rugerpc; 03-23-2013 at 12:01 PM.
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  10. #10
    Beneath the surface of the moon of Jupiter that we call Europa, the Dragon stirred in his 40 foot artificial cocoon. The gradual substitution of oxygen for the gas mixture that had kept him in suspended animation for the past ten thousand years was restoring him to sentience. The cobwebs were beginning to recede.

    The Dragon hadn't gone into suspended animation out of a need to survive; he was immortal. But he'd needed to remain on Europa for that period, looked after by The Guardians of Time, to be awakened if needed. He didn't want to just sit around and become a dull, bored dragon. So he went into suspended animation.
    I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken...

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  11. #11
    The Dragon wasn't an ignorant, terrifying lizard that flew around to torment the imaginations of mortals.

    Not at all.

    The Dragon was the living evolutionary embodiment of a race that had begun with creatures similar to the dinosaurs on Earth. But on the Dragon's home world, there had been no asteroid catasrophe, and therefore no extinction. Over hundreds of millions of years, the Dragon's ancestors had evolved to produce the greatest scientific and cultural accomplishments in the universe. Human beings have only evolved for a couple of million years. Imagine human beings hundreds of millions of years from now, and the state of their science, technology, and cultural achievement, and you still cannot imagine with a human being's primitive faculties the knowledge and skills of this immortal dragon race.

    A hundred million of years ago, the dragon race had managed their own genetic preferences. Realizing the need to explore and control outer space, they deliberately altered their genome to produce a skin that was better at surviving deep space than any spacecraft or space suit. It was impervious to the radiation of stars.. The dragon race had evolved wings that were relatively small in thick atmospheres, but that expanded into gigantic gossamer "sails" capable of catching the Solar winds, and harnessing these winds and using the gravity of the solar systems they traveled, a dragon could sail through space at speeds thousands of times faster than human rockets. In addition, the dragons could find sustenance and even oxygen in Dark Matter that exists in far more significant quantities in the universe than the matter mere humans can perceive. In fact, the dragons were literally energy factories unto themselves while traveling in space, and could travel through the galaxies at near light speeds.

    Having learned the secrets of altering their genomes to achieve immortality, and having hundreds of millions of years to ponder their futures, the dragons limited their procreation and took upon themselves the role of protectors - and avengers. They were the most powerful of beings.

    On the world we call Europa, the Dragon finally opened one eye, blinking in the dim light. It would take a little time to become acclimated to light again. "Enlighten me," it said, gently.

    "You have been summoned to council," thought the Guardian, a small being composed mainly of photons. This conversation took place telepathically, as would the council meeting.

    "That is acceptable," the Dragon thought. "Please help me prepare." The Guardian got to work.
    Last edited by LSchefman; 03-24-2013 at 12:19 AM.
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    Of course, those Immortals charged with guarding the Earth, were the minions of the Dragon Empire...entrusted to wait until contacted and to keep a low profile during the millennium of waiting. Having the capacity for boredom, they could not totally maintain a low profile. As a consequence, Stonehendge, the Great Wall of China, The Sphinx, the Pyramids of Giza, all of the Crop Circles and the Roller Coaster at Coney Island were all the product of their creativity, and their ability to "prompt" humans into industrial productivity.

    The Immortals had been contacted. The Dragon race was stirring.

    And, whlie this eons old drama was playing out, a group of individuals on the planet had no idea what adventures were in store for them. For, the Dragon race relied upon the Immortals as the gatekeepers and "police" of the planet. they could not let the forces align to cause mayhem. Once, before, millions of years in the past, the Dragon race had failed to avert a similar catastrophe. Their cousins were decimated. Those scientists on Earth would discuss various theories of a giant meteor wiping out the "dinosaurs". To the Dragon race, and the Immortals who were entrusted in their care...it wasn't a meteor...it was the dark forces having aligned in a successful coup of Earth. The Dragons would not allow that to happen again. Unless they were thwarted in their attempts to salvage humanity and save the small, green, 3rd planet from the sun.

    The force was strong in Colorado. The object of destruction sat on a shelf, softly vibrating and emitting its poisonous eminations.

    Thanksfully, the protectors were coming together in a holy alliance that would see either the Earth's destruction if they failed...or a return to the garden of Eden and spiritual contentment that preceded the devastating first attack millions of years ago.

    "Sergio...you know the fate of the planet, and all of the Earth is hanging in the balance" Bennett had said.

    Sergio didn't reply. He was busy counting coupons and figuring out where they would go for lunch.
    Last edited by docbennett; 03-24-2013 at 08:45 AM.

  13. #13
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    Paul Reed Smith was in his private office alone. The blinds were closed and door locked, a most uncharacteristic situation for the gregarious head of the company that bore his name. The lights were dimmed and gave little more illumination than the glowing workstation screen in front of him.

    Along the side wall of the office, on the low filing cabinets, were a line of guitars. His personal guitars. There were a couple of Modern Eagles, new old stock. He kept loosing these to visiting artists like Al Demeola when he kept giving them away in whims. There was a new 'Paul's Guitar' that he was currently traveling with. And there were other landmark guitars from the company's past. One in particular had caught his eye upon arriving at the factory that morning.

    The first guitar he had ever made with a dragon inlay was farthest from his desk, but had garnered all of his attention. The red inlay eye of the dragon was glowing.

    Smith was steeped in dragon lore. Much more so than he ever let on. His friends and employees found his fascination with dragons to be interesting and even quaint, but few knew that he was a dragon master.

    The glowing eye of the dragon guitar in his office was a message. Somewhere in the near cosmos, an immortal dragon was starting to take an interest in Earth. And now smith had much to do.

    His practiced hand ran the stylus across the tablet as he drew rough outlines into the rendering program. He had already drawn and rejected dozens of new inlay shapes, but he persisted.

    Calls from his private secretary were met only with the curt response, "Not now, please. And tell Shawn Nutzall to stop making those mouse fart noises in his office. I know the difference. Have Shawn and Paul Miles come to my office in 3 hours."
    Last edited by rugerpc; 03-25-2013 at 10:30 AM.
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    "What the hell is this!?" Sergio just sat there and stared at the irate woman; "I can't handle this right now! I'm under a s#!t-ton of pressure right now, and I'm not ending up on TMZ being called a "beard" again, once was enough!"

    "Hey babe, it's not what you think..." replied Sergio only to get cut off.

    "You have like... Four F*%ing messages from dudes telling you about their packages!!! I have a new fragrance collection coming out in a week!... FERGIO can't survive any more negative press!"

    Sergio hated it when she called them that. Sergio and Fergie= Fergio... Yup, that Fergie.

    "C'mon... This is in no way against the rules of our contract, and I have my own brand identity to watch out for too! "50 Shades of Blanc" has got offers from all the major studios. You think I'm really going to ruin that?" Sergio continued: " It's just some of these guys from some old guitar forum I was on, here scroll down and you can see even I have better taste than this." Sergio brandished his phone for inspection: "Dig deep babe, you're the only man..er.. woman in my life."

    "Oh yeah? We'll see about that! I'ma Facetime these b!tches!" Fergie dialed Hands' house first: "Yeah, Hello! Who This!?"

    "Who This?" The woman's voice on the other line said: "Who talks like that?"

    "Fergie talks like that, b!tch! That's who! Why you callin' my man, you nasty stanky skank!" Fergie's head was wagging and she was pointing her finger into the phone.

    "Who am I? Who am I! I'm mutha'#$kin' [Beep. name censored for privacy], that's who!!!! And don't be calling here thinking that we're to blame for your husband spending a thousand dollars on some stupid guitar pick ups... I've got one of those here as well.... AND HE GOING TO DIE!!!" [Beep. name censored for privacy] yelled that last part. Safe to assume it was meant for this "Hands" guy, Fergie hung up.

    "So... this was all about you spending crazy money on guitar stuff?" She asked.

    "Yup, well that and some "reptilian-overlord- from the fourth dimension" kind of thing." Sergio replied: "I may have to go out of town for a few days... you cool wit that?"

    "God, I can't believe that b!tch was complaining about a thousand dollars.... I mean.. she sounded fat!...." Fergie kept talking while Sergio got up and left the room to go pack,

    "Hey Hon?" Fergie yelled out: "Bring my toothbrush here.. no paste!"

    "Sure thing Babe! I ain't got nothin' better to do." Sergio said under his breath, he grabbed the toothbrush that Fergie had wanted so badly and noticed a strange green residue on the handle. "Here.. what's this green stuff?"

    Startled, Fergie replied: "Uh.. That's just my new toothpaste, it's called "Dragon's Breath"... I got it in Japan. It's got tea-tree oil in it, and baking powder, and it eve....."
    Sergio walked away dreaming of the day he could finally leave this crazy diva, he was looking forward to getting out of there,


    even if it meant going to New Jersey.

  15. #15
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    Thee Mike (as we are are now calling Special Agent Threemikeseven) was busy filling out the paper work conclusive to the top secret case known as: "Operation-Cavity Creeps" when his phone rang; "Hello? Oh, hey Hands... what's that you say? I see, did you get a reading from the package?"

    The reading Hands gave Thee Mike was higher than he expected: "May I suggest that you leave the package, remove your daughter and [Beep. name censored for privacy] from the location, and await my arrival... or the W.H.O. . or perhaps F.E.M.A. ,in case they get there before me? Everything is fine... you are in no danger... just await further instructions... remain calm." Thee Mike said.

    Thee Mike felt guilty hanging up the phone. He wished he could have told Hands the truth about the Dragon, but... who's really ready for that kind of knowledge of impending doom? What could he say? "Oh sorry about that, I should have told you that 401k stuff was a joke, you'll most likely be dead by the morning... Intergalactic Dragon is coming to wipe the earth of it's civilization and that kind of thing..." Who would believe him?

    The phone rang again, this time it was a blocked number and the voice on the other line hissed: "Snarf... snarf... Is this Secret Agent Threemikeseven? The one in charge of the PRS-files?"

    "Yes, this is." retorted Thee Mike.

    "I just called to let you know "The Dragon" is ascending Europa.... Snarf..."

    "Who is this!?" Thee Mike yelled into the receiver: "Under the power of the President of the United States I demand you answer m......" The line went dead. Thee Mike punched his password into his computer and the nation's DEF-CON level raised a shade.... mostly in a yellowy-orange-red kind of way... CNN showed a significant rise in advertising revenue for the next four days... and Doc Bennett's temporary ban from a popular guitar forum was lifted....

  16. #16
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    Smith sat at his desk frustrated. He had drawn and discarded dozens of new dragon designs, but none of them would do. He needed a new direction. It was then he remembered an email from Doc Bill Ruger. In the email, Ruger had been asking Paul if there could be any collaboration with Roger Dean who drew so many of the 70's and 80's fantasy album covers. Dean had produced a book under the publishing company "Dragon's Dream / Big O" which featured a powerful dragon motif for a logo.

    Scrolling through his email, Smith found the communiqué from Ruger. In it was a link to the image Smith didn't know he needed until now.



    Smith picked up the phone...
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  17. #17
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    ..... "Hello? Yes, this is D.L.A.C." (an unofficial-privately owned family company) "You need a dragon you say?... Oh, of course not one of those old dragons from last year, you need a fresh new dragon... Yeah, I hear neon is back, or perhaps we could find a slim-cut dragon? Yes, the retainer has gone up...."

    End Scene #18. Fade into scene 18 1/2.

    The Dragon soared though the atmosphere of Europa and powered it's way deep into the Earth's solar system, it had looked away for a second to remove some solar dust from it's eye, and when it looked back, The Dragon nearly got pulled into the orbit of a small moon: " Who the Hell put a planet right here?" The Dragon said to itself, thus continuing the debate of whether or not Pluto was actually a planet or a moon.

    The instructions from "The Elders" could not have been more vague.
    For you see, since the great Dragon empire had advanced to a point so far evolved past our own human existence, the concepts of short-hand, text, binary, emoticon, and slang had all been surpassed and amalgamated over thousands of generations. When the dragon race finally attained, or evolved to the point of discovering telepathy, the dragon culture had been able to reduce its entire written legacy into: "01x/Y lol 1101OMG squirt",

    Not all dragons developed the power of telepathy, but the stigma for having the power was so great within the culture that many dragons merely "went along with it" in the same way that some guitarists living in the 21st century did on the planet Earth with regards to "tone". These dragons couldn't really communicate telepathically, but they knew enough from body language and the fact that most telepathic dragons mouthed the words out while "telepathicalizing" to understand most of what they were saying.

    So when "The Elders" told the dragon: "00/1YYZ" The Dragon heard: "Immortalzz/ never die" in its mind that translated into:" Miami Beach, Florida, U.S.A., Earth, MLKYWY. ZPC: 73645282910."



    There was a local newscast in Miami Beach later that evening.... Gout was on the rise for seniors who wore socks year round... Weather at nine.
    Last edited by sergiodeblanc; 04-27-2013 at 02:06 AM.

  18. #18
    Senior Member sergiodeblanc's Avatar
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    "Who was that, babe?" Fergie yelled.

    "It was just Paul, he was calling about the PRS SE Fergio signature guitar." Sergio had been lying to Fergie since the day they met, and today was no exception.

    "Oh Yeah? Did you tell 'em it has to have a peezio and be blue sparkled?" She asked.

    "Sure did babe!" Sergio said as he packed his bags: " I gotta go there too,, might be gone a few weeks.... Love you!.... Oh! I'm taking the car, bye sweetie!"

    Sergio made his way downstairs to the parking garage and waited while the pink GoogleRV pulled up and greeted him: "Hello Dave, where would you like to go today?" The car asked.

    "Take me to Miami Beach... I'm going to... well I'm going to do whatever I want to do..... You drive, I'll navigate".

    "Gnarly" Replied GoogleRV.

    "Totally Gnarly" Replied Sergio.

    The GoogleRV drove through the night until it reached a Hotel in Miami Beach. It appeared to be a fairly clean motel but some of the letters were burned out on the sign out front, instead or reading: "Hotel Dragonian Associate Essex", it spelled out: Hot Dragon A$$ $3X" (or something like that), Sergio ordered the "presidential suite" located on the second floor and opened his luggage after stiffing the bell-boy who escorted him uncomfortably to his room.

    His phone rang: "Hello?"

    "Snarf.. snarf... (beltch)...Has ye got the paste?.... The Dragon Paste!" The voice on the other line asked.

    "I do. I also have a new client interested in a dragon. Do you think we might be able to help him out?" Sergio then laughed into the phone: "Mwaha. ha ha ha ha ha ha aaa.."

    The completely unidentifiable, new, mysterious. never-will-you-guess who it is, protagonist laughed back into the phone: "Wahah..ha.ha.ha.ah.haah,,,,(fart).ha...HA!!!"
    Last edited by sergiodeblanc; 04-27-2013 at 02:53 AM.

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