In a cold, dark room in Northern England Mike Garvey was staring at the screen. "What the f...!!!???"
He knew he had a lot of reading to do before he could truly understand.
In a cold, dark room in Northern England Mike Garvey was staring at the screen. "What the f...!!!???"
He knew he had a lot of reading to do before he could truly understand.
Casey watched the blood drain from Doc Ruger's face. She started dressing before he even hung up the phone. She listened in horror as Doc told her what was happening.
"Pack light, we will be moving fast." Doc told Casey. "And get Mrs. Doc on the phone. Tell her that the three of us need to be in the Hummer in less that 10." Casey picked up the phone as Doc texted Ell Chefman:
"Terrorists have seized the only factory which supplies wire for the 408 pups. Need you to mobilize your contacts and help plan the retrieval of the wire machine. The terrorists have already moved it to an unknown location and have begun sending 4" clippings as proof of holding. Headed to Stevensville now to coordinate with Paul."
Amanda walked back in from the bathroom, her burned pink wig had been freshly trimmed into a mullet for Billy Ray's arrival.
"Cute." Remarked Miley sarcastically.
When the doorbell rang Amanda pounced towards the door hoping it was going to be Billy Ray and instead found a UPS guy with a box. "Delivery for Segio de Blank."
"Sergio de BLANC!" Amanda hissed, "as in white... B-L-A-N-C."
"What? You mean black?" The UPS man asked.
"Blanc" She replied to the confused man, "It's pronounced blanc, that's french for white."
"I'm so confused." Said the UPS guy.
"Whatever... Just give me the damn thing and scram. You waiting for a tip!?" Amanda looked back at the couple and whispered; "We don't tip mailmen do we?" Sergio shook his head no. "Well then F@ck off dude!" Amanda yelled and slammed the door in the poor guys face.
There was a knock at the door a not millisecond later , Amanda opened it expecting a second chance to be rude to the UPS man and yelled "Nice shorts F@cktard!"
"Gosh! Such foul language from you Amanda, Disney alumni just don't speak that way... You know better." It was Miley's dad Billy Ray, "Cute hair!" He said in all seriousness.
"Daddy!" Miley sprang up from the panda skin sofa and hugged her father while Sergio and Amanda excused themselves to examine the large parcel in another room, but mostly to avoid Billy Ray.
"I've heard word from the Star Wars people at Disney, it's not good." Billy Ray looked defeated; "They are complaining about insurance costs ever since you and you friends wound up in jail again. I had to assure them that you wouldn't be any more trouble for them, you need to promise me that you won't do anything else to screw this up for me."
"Oh, I won't, I won't, I won't daddy! I promise."
"Because you know there are only two things that Disney doesn't employ, and that's bat-guano-crazy...or pregnant out of wedlock. Speaking of which, how long has Sergio been with child? Science is amazing these days! Wait, it's not yours right? Lindsay's the mother... um.. father, right?" Billy Ray asked.
Miley was fortunate to only be carrying 50% of her father's DNA, and it most have been her more intelligent mothers 50% that was working when she answered: "About four weeks, and no. Lindsay and Sergio are in a very committed relationship, you know that."
"Yeah, I do." Billy retorted "Do you know she actually hit on me by the hot tub one night?"
"I have not heard that." Miley was just cruising on the instinct that all daughters have to lie to their fathers, it develops around the age of thirteen. "He's actually writing a book about it. That's why the whole pharmacy thing happened, the pharmacist refused to fill the prescription for his..ah.. prenatal vitamins. I swear to god Daddy."
"Well that makes perfect sense to me!" Billy Ray believed his daughter as all fathers do until their daughters get divorced the first time, and made himself comfortable on the dolphin hide chez lounge next to the stuffed bald eagle. "It's not another coffee table book of photos in it? I nearly went blind from that one you sent me for my birthday, I swear I couldn't make out a sing margarita in that thing.. just vague green spots for a hundred pages."
Last edited by sergiodeblanc; 09-11-2013 at 07:05 PM.
Ell got off the phone with Doc Ruger, and it looked like all the blood had drained from his face. "Not the 408 wire," he thought. "Please, not the 408 wire!" He got Bitely on the horn.
"Look, Bitely, we have a national emergency. I'm going to need some vampire strength. Forget about the guitar, I made that up, although I've got the Nappy blood and will make one for you. But the world of Tone depends on your giving me a good bite. This is not a drill; repeat, this is no drill!"
"Where's the Napoleon blood?" the vampire retorted.
"I'll bring you the vial. You can authenticate it yourself. I'm coming over now. I'm too freaking old to beg. See you in a minute."
Doc, Mrs. Doc and Casey made just a small detour to Sparrows Point Maryland and the old Bethlehem Steel Shipyard. Doc remembered a private conversation with Paul about the super-secret wire pulling machines that PRS had set up there amidst the ruins of a once great company. When it was active, Bethlehem Steel was America's second largest steel company and America's largest shipbuilder. Killed by cheaper foreign labor and a brutal commitment to lavish retirement plans for it's American workers, Bethlehem Steel filed for bankruptcy in 2001 and it's buildings and assets were bought by the International Steel Group.
Though most of the old shipyard buildings in Dundalk are today owned and operated by Barletta Industries, One unassuming building was bought by PRS to house the increasing number of dedicated wire-pulling machines needed to satisfy the company's voracious appetite for specialty wire for its unique guitar pickups.
Doc eased the Hummer into a parking slot marked 'Visitors' in front of building 408. "You would have thought Paul would have renumbered the building, given it's contents and operations," said Doc. The irony was not lost on Mrs. Doc or Casey.
The door was ajar and the trio entered cautiously. Mrs. Doc was holding an AR-15 SOCOM in low ready, Doc had his ever present STI/SVI .357 SIG racegun and Casey backed them both up with a VietNam era flamethrower. They walked carefully as there were shell casings everywhere.
"Wow," said Mrs Doc. "I guess you were right when you said we shouldn't miss the crab feast last week," she continued, stepping over more crab shell casings.
"This party looks like it lasted for days," said Doc.
"And was interrupted," said Casey as she cooked a bushel of crabs with her flamethrower. It was lunchtime, after all.
The three sat in the break room having their own little crab feast as they discussed what they had found. "Did you see all the 9mm casings amongst the shell casings?" asked Casey. Casey had, of course, cased the joint. for casings, just in case.
"Yes," replied Doc. "Those were from the employees. They all pack Beretta 92 INOXs, made right here in Maryland. It looks like even though they were surprised, they put up a good fight." Doc had suggested to Paul months before that he needed to switch his issue arms to the more potent .40 S&W chambering and now, sadly, he'd have to report the ineffectiveness of the 9MM.
Also on the floor were numerous .45 ACP casings. Picking one up, Casey said, "These didn't come from a Beretta."
"No," agreed Mrs.Doc. "Those make a hole that hurts."
"So, where are the bodies?" asked Doc. It was then that his companions realized that aside from the detritus of a huge crab feast and a terrific gunfight, there were no bodies and no signs of either the employees or the terrorists. There were a few splatters of blood here and there and a large pool by the door, but nothing else.
Looking around, outside, they found a piece of wood that had been chipped off of a vehicle during the gunfight. Mrs. Doc examined it closely. "This is real wood. It's not a skeuomorph. Whoever was driving this had an authentic woodie."
The three polished off their Natty Bohs and piled back into the Hummer for the trip to Stevensville. Casey group texted Sergio, Ell Chefman, Hands Mantic and Mike 'Gilmour' Garvey, "Who is a really bad dude and drives an antique woodie?"
Inside the building, Doc had seen a crate marked 'S2 pups Baltimore' with the word Baltimore almost completely obscured by an overstamping of 'Malasia.' "That is going to be an interesting conversation," thought Doc as he sped down Richie Highway.
"Who is a really bad dude and drives an antique woodie?"
Ell read the text. He closed his eyes and ran through his memories. Who indeed? There was only one bad guy who drove an antique woodie that he knew of:
He texted Doc Ruger:
"Be on the lookout for Doug Grissom in a '48 Chrysler Town & Country Sedan Woodie, maroon metalwork, whitewalls, and a roof rack. And consider him very dangerous."
Last edited by LSchefman; 09-12-2013 at 09:50 PM.
"Ooh.. What's in the box?" Amanda asked Sergio. "Gucci, Fendi, Prada?.. is it that that baby sealskin iPhone cozy you ordered? Who's it from?"
"Uhh.. Doug Grissom. I thought it was gonna be that guitar from Ell, I guess not." Sergio started opening the box with his ivory handled fondue skewer that he kept in the guest room for home defense.
"Who's Doug Grissom?" asked Amanda to which he replied "David Grissom's evil twin brother."
"Who's David Grissom?" She shot back.
"I think he's a guitar designer or something pretty sure I met him once.. I don't know." Sergio got the package open and found a mess of spooled wire.
"Great! I hope that's not a bomb." Amanda said half jokingly, "What are you gonna do with that, build a nest?"
"I don't know ..maybe Lindsay bought it."
"Ssshhh!" Lindsay interrupted Sergio, she had been hiding under the bed of the guest room trying to avoid Billy Ray. "I wouldn't buy that crap! Be quiet.. he'll hear me."
"Lindsay?!" Billy Ray called from the living room, "Is that you? Come on out here! All three of you, we need to talk."
Sergio slid the box of wire under the bed and the three walked out of the room like inmates on death row walking to the electric chair. They arrived to Billy Ray with his arms out welcoming... well, more like demanding a hug from Lindsay with Miley standing just ever so slightly behind her father. She was lightly bouncing on the balls of her feet and mouthing something wild eyed and pleading.
"Come hear.. You..." Billy Ray said while hugging Lindsay a little too long. "I'm so happy for you... You're gonna be a father! And here all this time I thought you were the girl in all of your relationships... It does make the whole Samantha Ronson thing kinda weird..." and then he leaned in like he was trying to tell only her and whispered; "But I'm into that." And then winked. "And you! My Gosh! Sergio... I can't believe how brave you are. Have you got a new publisher? I thought you got dumped after that margarita book."
Miley pantomimed to go along with it.
"Uhh.. Yeeess?." Sergio said, and nervously lit up a spliff"I.. uhh.. I'm with Penguin Books now.. really excited.. Really."
"That's just... Whoopee! CRAZY MAN!" Billy Ray slapped his knee in a Yee-Haw way that sent Amanda into a severe case of the giggles. "Hey.. Not that it's any of my business.. and you sure know I ain't no square.. but you sure you should be smoking that in your condition?"
"It's cool, I have Glaucoma." Miley's eyes widened and she mouthed the word no."Wha'? um... No?" Sergio said and extinguished the spliff in the hawksbill turtle shell next to the wet bar.
"I guess this means you won't be begging me to sing to you by the pool any more, Huh Lindsay... or should I say Papi?" Billy Ray said as he stood there silently with a sh!t eating grin on his face... awaiting some reaction from anybody... "Huh? Anybody? Hello, is this thing on?"
Mrs. Doc read Ell Chefman's text to Doc Ruger aloud.
The three, as one, each slapped an audible FACEPALM, Doc so much so that he almost gave himself a fat lip with his new wedding ring.
"Casey," Doc said, "Get the Tick in on this."
Casey set about texting Alan Tick:
"Alan, Doug Grissom is on the loose. We need the parts of your personality that are not mostly harmless to get in gear and help us out."
Miles away, Alan's FACEPALM confirmed he had read Casey's text correctly.
Douglas Alphonso Grissim was actually speeding down route 66 in a 1949 Chrysler Town and Country. The main difference between the 48' and 49' T&C was that the 48' had panels made from laminated "driving-woods"whereas the 49' had solid paneled "driving woods" and the addition of an ashtray... DAG was the kind of guy that could tell the difference.... DAG knew driving.
In the backseat was a UPS outfit, discarded amongst packages of wire and strewn across the layers of fast-food wrappers that filled the entire woody: Carl Jr's, White Castle, Chik' Fil A, Del Taco,... The geographical span of the remnants was impressively diverse and smelled more like an uncovered toilet drain with every mile DAG drove. When he finally reached Tulsa DAG pulled over to rent a room and get some sleep, he had delivered six packages of 408 wire to unassuming players. His game had started.
Ell was reclining on Bitely's La-Z-Boy chair, his feet propped up on the footrest that automatically popped up as the chair tilted back. He felt like he was at the dentist. And he was a bit surprised that Bitely, whose tastes normally ran to very high end collectible furniture, even owned something as petit bourgeois as a naugahyde recliner chair.
"What's up with this chair, Bitely?"
"Oh, you'll soon see why I have a plastic covered chair," came the reply. "Here, take a hit of this." He opened a small coffin shaped box that was sitting on his desk, and offered a very nicely hand rolled reefer to Ell.
"I keep my weed in there," Bitely stated, referring to the box.
"I was wondering why you had that, but no thanks, Bitely. I haven't done anything like that since...well...it's been a very long time, I walk a straight path."
"Ell, it will relax you. I promise that you will appreciate it."
Ell thought for a moment about the gruesome scene that might unfold, and changed his mind.
"OK, but I feel like I should be listening to the Grateful Dead."
"How apt. You will soon be both."
The two talked for a few minutes. Bitely's voice was always calm, even, and his accent reflected the myriad of places he'd made his home over the centuries. For some reason, Ell found it refreshing to be around Bitely, despite his strangeness.
As the weed took over Ell's brain, Bitely's fangs began to descend, and he leaned forward. They dug into Ell's neck. Ell felt an initial sharp pain, but it subsided a second later, and he felt an almost narcotic surge as the vampire's chemistry began to mix with his blood. He felt himself start to say, "This is really interesting," but it was hard to communicate from the surface of Neptune, which is where he thought he was.
In reality, he was gurgling blood, not words. A mess began to puddle in the chair.
After a few moments he lost consciousness, and then his life.
Last edited by LSchefman; 09-16-2013 at 01:52 AM.
"That's gotta hurt," said Casey as the Hummer pulled into the PRS parking lot.
"Those .45 ACP shell casings are evidence. Stop playing with them and put them back in the evidence bag." said Doc.
The three of them piled out of the Hummer and ran up the front steps. Looking back, Mrs. Doc could see that Doc had parked the Hummer on top of Mike Deele's LeCar. "Maybe there'll be a couple of smart car babies when we come out," she laughed to herself.
"This couldn't have happened at a worse time," said Paul. "We are so busy with XPRS13, I can't even to begin to think critically about this. Let's concentrate on the next four days and then meet here Sunday night."
The central area of the sales floor had been transformed into a huge selling space.Beginning with the truly rabid on Wednesday and followed by the slightly less rabid, the PRS Factory would be glutinous GAS Station for the next few days.
Doc Ruger produced three 'Seat Reserved' signs from a cargo pocket and proceeded to tape up 3 chairs close to the front in the main tent outside.
"How do you feel?" It was Bitely. Ell was so groggy he could barely get one eye open. Bitely came into focus. But it was incredibly sharp focus; he could hardly believe it, He opened the other eye.
"I feel like I was hit by a bus. But I sure can see well."
"Yes. That's part of what happens. Now listen. Just listen."
Ell could hear the blood pumping through Bitely's circulatory system. The traffic in the street away on the other side of the golf course Bitely lived on sounded as though it was in the room. Yet it wasn't a cacophony. He could concentrate on one sound at a time, the way one does making conversation in a crowd. And the frequency response of his hearing was much wider than it had been. He heard a shuffling sound, and noticed a spider making its way across the carpet. The first thought that popped into his head was that his ability to mix music would be vastly improved. "Better kill that spider," he said to Bitely.
"Ah, Ell, so you heard him, too. Good. Very good. Now I want you to get some rest. Your neck has already healed. We've washed you up and gotten you dressed, too. When you awake, we'll do a little more experimenting with your new powers. By the way, that's a nice tuxedo."
Ell looked down. He had been laid in his sleeping coffin in an Armani tux he'd gotten for a wedding. "Why a tux, Bitely?"
"It goes with the new cape I bought you." He smiled and pointed to a black wool cape lined with red silk hanging on a coat rack, the perfect costume accessory for an old vampire movie. Ell laughed.
"Fantastic, Bitely. I'm always glad for your sense of humor."
"Humor? That's not humor, my man, it's style." He winked and closed the coffin lid as Ell fell into a deep sleep.
Doc Ruger, Mrs. Ruger and Casey sat in the showroom floor area looking at row after row of tables with empty guitar stands on them. There was the unmistakable odor in the air from the rapid combustion of huge wads of crumpled of money mixed with the sharp, acrid scent of overheated charge card plastic. XPRS13 was a pleasant day-old memory.
Doc's mind wandered to the fate of the 408 pups should the faithful fail to spoil whatever dastardly plan Doug Grissom had devised. Doc had seen example after example of semi-hollow 408 on the sales floor that weekend and wondered if it was the 408's last hurrah.
"Not if I can help it," said Mrs. Doc, reading his mind.
"Stop that," complained Doc Ruger. "A fella need some private thoughts..."
"Har, Har, Har." Belly laughed Casey, her breasts jiggling. "You're married now, Doc. No more private thoughts for you!"
Mrs. Doc giggled to herself. Doc blushed to the shade of Angrier Than Larry.
"Daddy!" Miley whined as she motioned Billy Ray towards the front door; "It's been a crazy day for us all... We just need some rest and we will talk about this tomorrow, okay?"
Miley rushed her father out the door to the sounds of the TMZ crew confronting him.
"WTF?!?! Miley, your father is a total loser." Lindsay said. She had had some experience with dirtbag fathers in her day, so her declaration was met with more weight than if anybody else in the group had said it: "He's just gonna turn this around and try and find a way to exploit you and make money off of this."
"This?!.. This What?!..." Amanda spat; "I don't even know what's going on here... Are you telling me that your father thinks Sergio is prego?... This is the best thing you could come up with?"
"Relax.." Sergio said; "Nobody's gonna pay attention to a stupid TMZ blurb about me being pregnant.... but it would be f@ckin' hilarious."
Amanda's eyes lit up; " Ooohhyyyeah!!! Oh my God! You could like, totally be on The View and Ellen...No! Screw that! You could be on The Daily Show!" Sergio loved riffing on outlandish ideas with Amanda, she was batsh!t crazy... but in a creative kind of way. " Dude. You could so market a line of male prenatal vitamins at Whole Foods."
Lindsay looked upset and faced Miley; "You know he's already talking sh!t to that TMZ crew outside. Your dad is just like mine... a total dirtbag. By seven o'clock tonight Billy Ray is gonna be on TV saying that Sergio is pregnant..you know it's true. It's too good for him to pass up."
The room then became abuzz with the sound of a quartet of iPhones ringing and vibrating. The news of Billy Ray claiming that Sergio was pregnant had already hit Twitter and Facebook thanks to the TMZ crew that had been camping out in front to the house.
"Man, this isn't going to look so good.. Miley, if your dad comes off as an insane person in the press..." Segio trailed off as Miley continued his sentence; ".. He's going to have to move in here?"
"Oh,.. HELL NO!" Lindsay yelled; "Miley's getting that Star Wars money and keeping that date rapist in Nashville.. or wherever.."
"Date rapist kinda implies that you went on a date with Billy Ray... You know that right Lindsay?" Amanda smirked, "anything you want to tell Sergio? Or us?
"Shut up Amanda!" Lindsay continued; "Realistically all you have to do is find a way to be assured that Disney won't pull you out before production starts. AS soon as your deal is signed and filming begins... They won't be able to fire you for being pregnant... big money lawsuit."
"And the easiest way for that to happen would be if...." Miley looked up at Sergio with pleading yes, the same ones she uses on her father when she wants to manipulate him. He looked away and started wrapping another splif while concentrating.
"You're gonna need a doctor or something." Amanda interjected.
"Somebody that can be bought off." Lindsay said.
"Somebody that wants something more than anything else in the world!" Miley replied.
"Are we really going to do this?" Sergio asked the girls; " I'm fine with it.... The person we need is the individual who's pharmacy you fine women destroyed today. She's a doctor type, and downright scary... I also think I know the one thing she wants more than anything in the entire world."