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James Jay
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PostSubject: Finish the Story   Wed Jan 23, 2008 1:05 pm

This thread is for fun. Quote the story and add one sentence to the end. Let's see what you're made of. I'll start with a simple one.


It was a dark and stormy night.

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QuantumCowboy
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PostSubject: Re: Finish the Story   Wed Jan 23, 2008 1:52 pm

James Jay wrote:

It was a dark and stormy night.

Detective Harry Blighter eased back in his desk chair, eye bent on the clue before him; a knife, the ugly kind, glinting in the low light of his 52nd St. office like a shiny new nickel.

_________________
_____
~QC
"Acting is all about honesty... if you can fake that, you've got it down." --Oscar Wilde.
"You must unlearn what you have learned." --Yoda, Jedi Master.
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James Jay
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PostSubject: Re: Finish the Story   Wed Jan 23, 2008 9:06 pm

QuantumCowboy wrote:
James Jay wrote:

It was a dark and stormy night.

Detective Harry Blighter eased back in his desk chair, eye bent on the clue before him; a knife, the ugly kind, glinting in the low light of his 52nd St. office like a shiny new nickel.
"Damn," he said out loud, even though no one was in his office, "that knife is sharp, in the same way a spoon isn't."

_________________
If all the world is a stage, then some roles should be recast.

"Always remember, no matter where you go, there you are."--Buckaroo Banzai
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QuantumCowboy
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PostSubject: Re: Finish the Story   Thu Jan 24, 2008 3:03 pm

James Jay wrote:
QuantumCowboy wrote:
James Jay wrote:

It was a dark and stormy night.

Detective Harry Blighter eased back in his desk chair, eye bent on the clue before him; a knife, the ugly kind, glinting in the low light of his 52nd St. office like a shiny new nickel.
"Damn," he said out loud, even though no one was in his office, "that knife is sharp, in the same way a spoon isn't."

Harry leaned back in his chair and mulled over his next move, drawing a cigarette from the pocket of his trenchcoat as he did so -- his favorite brand, Fatima. With a flick of his zippo and a puff of extra mild, insight came as it always did; there it was, the knife's maker, etched into to the steel blade: Harvey Carvey's Professional Cutlery and Other Cutting Things, Limited. 23rd Street and Harbor. His least favorite part of town.

_________________
_____
~QC
"Acting is all about honesty... if you can fake that, you've got it down." --Oscar Wilde.
"You must unlearn what you have learned." --Yoda, Jedi Master.
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James Jay
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PostSubject: Re: Finish the Story   Thu Jan 24, 2008 7:27 pm

QuantumCowboy wrote:
James Jay wrote:
QuantumCowboy wrote:
James Jay wrote:

It was a dark and stormy night.

Detective Harry Blighter eased back in his desk chair, eye bent on the clue before him; a knife, the ugly kind, glinting in the low light of his 52nd St. office like a shiny new nickel.
"Damn," he said out loud, even though no one was in his office, "that knife is sharp, in the same way a spoon isn't."

Harry leaned back in his chair and mulled over his next move, drawing a cigarette from the pocket of his trenchcoat as he did so -- his favorite brand, Fatima. With a flick of his zippo and a puff of extra mild, insight came as it always did; there it was, the knife's maker, etched into to the steel blade: Harvey Carvey's Professional Cutlery and Other Cutting Things, Limited. 23rd Street and Harbor. His least favorite part of town
since there was no Starbucks anywhere. Fatimas taste so much smoother with a Half-Cap Nonfat Espresso with a shot of Caramel, but hey, not every hard-boiled gumshoe can have everything he wants. He'd have to settle for a cup of joe at Joe's, the greasy spoon next door to Harvey Carvey's Professional Cutlery and Other Cutting Things, Limited.

_________________
If all the world is a stage, then some roles should be recast.

"Always remember, no matter where you go, there you are."--Buckaroo Banzai
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QuantumCowboy
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PostSubject: Re: Finish the Story   Fri Jan 25, 2008 11:23 am

James Jay wrote:
QuantumCowboy wrote:
James Jay wrote:
QuantumCowboy wrote:
James Jay wrote:

It was a dark and stormy night.

Detective Harry Blighter eased back in his desk chair, eye bent on the clue before him; a knife, the ugly kind, glinting in the low light of his 52nd St. office like a shiny new nickel.
"Damn," he said out loud, even though no one was in his office, "that knife is sharp, in the same way a spoon isn't."

Harry leaned back in his chair and mulled over his next move, drawing a cigarette from the pocket of his trenchcoat as he did so -- his favorite brand, Fatima. With a flick of his zippo and a puff of extra mild, insight came as it always did; there it was, the knife's maker, etched into to the steel blade: Harvey Carvey's Professional Cutlery and Other Cutting Things, Limited. 23rd Street and Harbor. His least favorite part of town
since there was no Starbucks anywhere. Fatimas taste so much smoother with a Half-Cap Nonfat Espresso with a shot of Caramel, but hey, not every hard-boiled gumshoe can have everything he wants. He'd have to settle for a cup of joe at Joe's, the greasy spoon next door to Harvey Carvey's Professional Cutlery and Other Cutting Things, Limited.

Twenty minutes and four dollars cab fare later, Harry was on the scene. It was quiet... yeah, a little too quiet. The harbor district was deserted, and no sound but the soft patter of rain on the oily streets greeted our hero as he sidled in through the door into the dingy diner known only as Joe's. The only three men inside, seated over coffee and a shared plate of fries, eyed him suspiciously. Harry's gut went cold.

_________________
_____
~QC
"Acting is all about honesty... if you can fake that, you've got it down." --Oscar Wilde.
"You must unlearn what you have learned." --Yoda, Jedi Master.
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Tamitha
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PostSubject: Re: Finish the Story   Fri Jan 25, 2008 3:24 pm

Fries were his downfall, and he couldn't bear the thought of sharing them with anyone, including the blonde behind the counter.
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PostSubject: Re: Finish the Story   Fri Jan 25, 2008 4:19 pm

tamitha wrote:
QuantumCowboy wrote:
James Jay wrote:
QuantumCowboy wrote:
James Jay wrote:
QuantumCowboy wrote:
James Jay wrote:

It was a dark and stormy night.

Detective Harry Blighter eased back in his desk chair, eye bent on the clue before him; a knife, the ugly kind, glinting in the low light of his 52nd St. office like a shiny new nickel.
"Damn," he said out loud, even though no one was in his office, "that knife is sharp, in the same way a spoon isn't."

Harry leaned back in his chair and mulled over his next move, drawing a cigarette from the pocket of his trenchcoat as he did so -- his favorite brand, Fatima. With a flick of his zippo and a puff of extra mild, insight came as it always did; there it was, the knife's maker, etched into to the steel blade: Harvey Carvey's Professional Cutlery and Other Cutting Things, Limited. 23rd Street and Harbor. His least favorite part of town
since there was no Starbucks anywhere. Fatimas taste so much smoother with a Half-Cap Nonfat Espresso with a shot of Caramel, but hey, not every hard-boiled gumshoe can have everything he wants. He'd have to settle for a cup of joe at Joe's, the greasy spoon next door to Harvey Carvey's Professional Cutlery and Other Cutting Things, Limited.

Twenty minutes and four dollars cab fare later, Harry was on the scene. It was quiet... yeah, a little too quiet. The harbor district was deserted, and no sound but the soft patter of rain on the oily streets greeted our hero as he sidled in through the door into the dingy diner known only as Joe's. The only three men inside, seated over coffee and a shared plate of fries, eyed him suspiciously. Harry's gut went cold.

Fries were his downfall, and he couldn't bear the thought of sharing them with anyone, including the blonde behind the counter.

Blondes were his other downfall, and he couldn't bear the thought of sharing them with anyone either -- these men had to go. Harry reached inside his trenchcoat for his badge, but then stopped himself. Wait a minute, he thought to himself, one of these class-acts might know something. And deciding to take the low-key route, he let his hand fall from the badge, and sidled into the booth next to the three men, drawing another Fatima instead.

_________________
_____
~QC
"Acting is all about honesty... if you can fake that, you've got it down." --Oscar Wilde.
"You must unlearn what you have learned." --Yoda, Jedi Master.
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James Jay
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PostSubject: Re: Finish the Story   Fri Jan 25, 2008 6:27 pm

QuantumCowboy wrote:
tamitha wrote:
QuantumCowboy wrote:
James Jay wrote:
QuantumCowboy wrote:
James Jay wrote:
QuantumCowboy wrote:
James Jay wrote:

It was a dark and stormy night.

Detective Harry Blighter eased back in his desk chair, eye bent on the clue before him; a knife, the ugly kind, glinting in the low light of his 52nd St. office like a shiny new nickel.
"Damn," he said out loud, even though no one was in his office, "that knife is sharp, in the same way a spoon isn't."

Harry leaned back in his chair and mulled over his next move, drawing a cigarette from the pocket of his trenchcoat as he did so -- his favorite brand, Fatima. With a flick of his zippo and a puff of extra mild, insight came as it always did; there it was, the knife's maker, etched into to the steel blade: Harvey Carvey's Professional Cutlery and Other Cutting Things, Limited. 23rd Street and Harbor. His least favorite part of town
since there was no Starbucks anywhere. Fatimas taste so much smoother with a Half-Cap Nonfat Espresso with a shot of Caramel, but hey, not every hard-boiled gumshoe can have everything he wants. He'd have to settle for a cup of joe at Joe's, the greasy spoon next door to Harvey Carvey's Professional Cutlery and Other Cutting Things, Limited.

Twenty minutes and four dollars cab fare later, Harry was on the scene. It was quiet... yeah, a little too quiet. The harbor district was deserted, and no sound but the soft patter of rain on the oily streets greeted our hero as he sidled in through the door into the dingy diner known only as Joe's. The only three men inside, seated over coffee and a shared plate of fries, eyed him suspiciously. Harry's gut went cold.

Fries were his downfall, and he couldn't bear the thought of sharing them with anyone, including the blonde behind the counter.

Blondes were his other downfall, and he couldn't bear the thought of sharing them with anyone either -- these men had to go. Harry reached inside his trenchcoat for his badge, but then stopped himself. Wait a minute, he thought to himself, one of these class-acts might know something. And deciding to take the low-key route, he let his hand fall from the badge, and sidled into the booth next to the three men, drawing another Fatima instead.

"So," Harry breathed heavily, blowing smoke into the face of the first thug, the one with the eyepatch and tattoo that read 'Born to Raise Barns'. "Any of you third rate film noir uglies heard any good blonde jokes recently?"

_________________
If all the world is a stage, then some roles should be recast.

"Always remember, no matter where you go, there you are."--Buckaroo Banzai
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Tamitha
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PostSubject: Re: Finish the Story   Sat Jan 26, 2008 2:35 pm

"A priest, a rabbi, and a blonde walk into a bar," he blurted out looking up at Harry.
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PostSubject: Re: Finish the Story   Sat Jan 26, 2008 8:18 pm

Tamitha wrote:
"A priest, a rabbi, and a blonde walk into a bar," he blurted out looking up at Harry.

"But the priest and rabbi ducked," replied Harry. "Yeah, yeah...I"ve heard that one before. Let's just get down to business, fellas."
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PostSubject: Re: Finish the Story   Sat Jan 26, 2008 11:06 pm

Kara wrote:
Tamitha wrote:
"A priest, a rabbi, and a blonde walk into a bar," he blurted out looking up at Harry.

"But the priest and rabbi ducked," replied Harry. "Yeah, yeah...I"ve heard that one before. Let's just get down to business, fellas."

Harry knew these goons had information regarding the recent theft of the Maltomeal Penguin, a valuable statuette made, incredibly, of oatmeal. Harry had to get the Penguin back at all costs, and with the knife in his pocket, bad coffee in his stomach, and a vile remark on his lips, he inquired.........

_________________
If all the world is a stage, then some roles should be recast.

"Always remember, no matter where you go, there you are."--Buckaroo Banzai
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QuantumCowboy
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PostSubject: Re: Finish the Story   Wed Jan 30, 2008 8:34 pm

James Jay wrote:
Kara wrote:
Tamitha wrote:
"A priest, a rabbi, and a blonde walk into a bar," he blurted out looking up at Harry.

"But the priest and rabbi ducked," replied Harry. "Yeah, yeah...I"ve heard that one before. Let's just get down to business, fellas."

Harry knew these goons had information regarding the recent theft of the Maltomeal Penguin, a valuable statuette made, incredibly, of oatmeal. Harry had to get the Penguin back at all costs, and with the knife in his pocket, bad coffee in his stomach, and a vile remark on his lips, he inquired.........

"I'm in the market for a knife. The ugly kind. Any of you boys know this guy Carvey? I hear he makes a mean knife. And he likes oatmeal... I respect that in a man, I like oatmeal too. So?"

_________________
_____
~QC
"Acting is all about honesty... if you can fake that, you've got it down." --Oscar Wilde.
"You must unlearn what you have learned." --Yoda, Jedi Master.
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keltroncybo
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PostSubject: Re: Finish the Story   Thu Jan 31, 2008 12:58 am

Tamitha Wrote
Quote :
"A priest, a rabbi, and a blonde walk into a bar," he blurted out looking up at Harry.

Kara Wrote
Quote :
"But the priest and rabbi ducked," replied Harry. "Yeah, yeah...I"ve heard that one before. Let's just get down to business, fellas."

James Jay Wrote
Quote :
Harry knew these goons had information regarding the recent theft of the Maltomeal Penguin, a valuable statuette made, incredibly, of oatmeal. Harry had to get the Penguin back at all costs, and with the knife in his pocket, bad coffee in his stomach, and a vile remark on his lips, he inquired.........

Quantum Cowboy Wrote
Quote :
"I'm in the market for a knife. The ugly kind. Any of you boys know this guy Carvey? I hear he makes a mean knife. And he likes oatmeal... I respect that in a man, I like oatmeal too. So?"

The brute with the penchant for barn building smiled a wry smile and sipped his sludgy coffee. After nudging his friend, the one with the eye patch, he grunted, "what's it to you fella?" Harry knew when to trust his gut, and aside from the heartburn swelling up in his bosom it was telling him something...

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PostSubject: Re: Finish the Story   Fri Feb 01, 2008 10:57 am

James Jay wrote:

It was a dark and stormy night.

QuantumCowboy wrote:
Detective Harry Blighter eased back in his desk chair, eye bent on the clue before him; a knife, the ugly kind, glinting in the low light of his 52nd St. office like a shiny new nickel.

JamesJay wrote:
"Damn," he said out loud, even though no one was in his office, "that knife is sharp, in the same way a spoon isn't."

QuantumCowboy wrote:
Harry leaned back in his chair and mulled over his next move, drawing a cigarette from the pocket of his trenchcoat as he did so -- his favorite brand, Fatima. With a flick of his zippo and a puff of extra mild, insight came as it always did; there it was, the knife's maker, etched into to the steel blade: Harvey Carvey's Professional Cutlery and Other Cutting Things, Limited. 23rd Street and Harbor. His least favorite part of town

James Jay wrote:
since there was no Starbucks anywhere. Fatimas taste so much smoother with a Half-Cap Nonfat Espresso with a shot of Caramel, but hey, not every hard-boiled gumshoe can have everything he wants. He'd have to settle for a cup of joe at Joe's, the greasy spoon next door to Harvey Carvey's Professional Cutlery and Other Cutting Things, Limited.

QuantumCowboy wrote:
Twenty minutes and four dollars cab fare later, Harry was on the scene. It was quiet... yeah, a little too quiet. The harbor district was deserted, and no sound but the soft patter of rain on the oily streets greeted our hero as he sidled in through the door into the dingy diner known only as Joe's. The only three men inside, seated over coffee and a shared plate of fries, eyed him suspiciously. Harry's gut went cold.

tamitha wrote:
Fries were his downfall, and he couldn't bear the thought of sharing them with anyone, including the blonde behind the counter.

QuantumCowboy wrote:
Blondes were his other downfall, and he couldn't bear the thought of sharing them with anyone either -- these men had to go. Harry reached inside his trenchcoat for his badge, but then stopped himself. Wait a minute, he thought to himself, one of these class-acts might know something. And deciding to take the low-key route, he let his hand fall from the badge, and sidled into the booth next to the three men, drawing another Fatima instead.

James Jay wrote:
"So," Harry breathed heavily, blowing smoke into the face of the first thug, the one with the eyepatch and tattoo that read 'Born to Raise Barns'. "Any of you third rate film noir uglies heard any good blonde jokes recently?"

Tamitha wrote:
"A priest, a rabbi, and a blonde walk into a bar," he blurted out looking up at Harry.

Kara wrote:
"But the priest and rabbi ducked," replied Harry. "Yeah, yeah...I"ve heard that one before. Let's just get down to business, fellas."

James Jay wrote:
Harry knew these goons had information regarding the recent theft of the Maltomeal Penguin, a valuable statuette made, incredibly, of oatmeal. Harry had to get the Penguin back at all costs, and with the knife in his pocket, bad coffee in his stomach, and a vile remark on his lips, he inquired.........

QuantumCowboy wrote:
"I'm in the market for a knife. The ugly kind. Any of you boys know this guy Carvey? I hear he makes a mean knife. And he likes oatmeal... I respect that in a man, I like oatmeal too. So?"

keltroncybo wrote:
The brute with the penchant for barn building smiled a wry smile and sipped his sludgy coffee. After nudging his friend, the one with the eye patch, he grunted, "what's it to you fella?" Harry knew when to trust his gut, and aside from the heartburn swelling up in his bosom it was telling him something...

That it was all about to hit the fan. One look at the tatoo on the bulging arm in front of him said it all: "I work for Harvey Carvey." Suddenly, Harry was glad he brought along his two best buddies -- the one he kept loaded and that traveled in a holster, and the other that traveled in a hip flask and kept him loaded.

_________________
_____
~QC
"Acting is all about honesty... if you can fake that, you've got it down." --Oscar Wilde.
"You must unlearn what you have learned." --Yoda, Jedi Master.
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QuantumCowboy
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PostSubject: Re: Finish the Story   Fri Feb 01, 2008 11:00 am

Ok, here's how to do it it right....

On the last story post, hit the "Quote" button on the top right. There will be a tag at the very start of the post such as {quote="QuantumCowboy"}. Cut and paste this to the beginning of the last paragraph written by someone else. Then add your paragraph to the end of the post (after the final {/quote} tag).

I used curly braces instead of square in the above sentence so that it wouldn't actually treat them as tags.

PM me if you have questions. Don't quote this post as part of the story either!

Great stuff here, thanks for starting this topic Jay. Now let's where this goes!

_________________
_____
~QC
"Acting is all about honesty... if you can fake that, you've got it down." --Oscar Wilde.
"You must unlearn what you have learned." --Yoda, Jedi Master.
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keltroncybo
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PostSubject: Re: Finish the Story   Wed Feb 06, 2008 11:18 am

QuantumCowboy wrote:
James Jay wrote:

It was a dark and stormy night.

QuantumCowboy wrote:
Detective Harry Blighter eased back in his desk chair, eye bent on the clue before him; a knife, the ugly kind, glinting in the low light of his 52nd St. office like a shiny new nickel.

JamesJay wrote:
"Damn," he said out loud, even though no one was in his office, "that knife is sharp, in the same way a spoon isn't."

QuantumCowboy wrote:
Harry leaned back in his chair and mulled over his next move, drawing a cigarette from the pocket of his trenchcoat as he did so -- his favorite brand, Fatima. With a flick of his zippo and a puff of extra mild, insight came as it always did; there it was, the knife's maker, etched into to the steel blade: Harvey Carvey's Professional Cutlery and Other Cutting Things, Limited. 23rd Street and Harbor. His least favorite part of town

James Jay wrote:
since there was no Starbucks anywhere. Fatimas taste so much smoother with a Half-Cap Nonfat Espresso with a shot of Caramel, but hey, not every hard-boiled gumshoe can have everything he wants. He'd have to settle for a cup of joe at Joe's, the greasy spoon next door to Harvey Carvey's Professional Cutlery and Other Cutting Things, Limited.

QuantumCowboy wrote:
Twenty minutes and four dollars cab fare later, Harry was on the scene. It was quiet... yeah, a little too quiet. The harbor district was deserted, and no sound but the soft patter of rain on the oily streets greeted our hero as he sidled in through the door into the dingy diner known only as Joe's. The only three men inside, seated over coffee and a shared plate of fries, eyed him suspiciously. Harry's gut went cold.

tamitha wrote:
Fries were his downfall, and he couldn't bear the thought of sharing them with anyone, including the blonde behind the counter.

QuantumCowboy wrote:
Blondes were his other downfall, and he couldn't bear the thought of sharing them with anyone either -- these men had to go. Harry reached inside his trenchcoat for his badge, but then stopped himself. Wait a minute, he thought to himself, one of these class-acts might know something. And deciding to take the low-key route, he let his hand fall from the badge, and sidled into the booth next to the three men, drawing another Fatima instead.

James Jay wrote:
"So," Harry breathed heavily, blowing smoke into the face of the first thug, the one with the eyepatch and tattoo that read 'Born to Raise Barns'. "Any of you third rate film noir uglies heard any good blonde jokes recently?"

Tamitha wrote:
"A priest, a rabbi, and a blonde walk into a bar," he blurted out looking up at Harry.

Kara wrote:
"But the priest and rabbi ducked," replied Harry. "Yeah, yeah...I"ve heard that one before. Let's just get down to business, fellas."

James Jay wrote:
Harry knew these goons had information regarding the recent theft of the Maltomeal Penguin, a valuable statuette made, incredibly, of oatmeal. Harry had to get the Penguin back at all costs, and with the knife in his pocket, bad coffee in his stomach, and a vile remark on his lips, he inquired.........

QuantumCowboy wrote:
"I'm in the market for a knife. The ugly kind. Any of you boys know this guy Carvey? I hear he makes a mean knife. And he likes oatmeal... I respect that in a man, I like oatmeal too. So?"

keltroncybo wrote:
The brute with the penchant for barn building smiled a wry smile and sipped his sludgy coffee. After nudging his friend, the one with the eye patch, he grunted, "what's it to you fella?" Harry knew when to trust his gut, and aside from the heartburn swelling up in his bosom it was telling him something...

That it was all about to hit the fan. One look at the tatoo on the bulging arm in front of him said it all: "I work for Harvey Carvey." Suddenly, Harry was glad he brought along his two best buddies -- the one he kept loaded and that traveled in a holster, and the other that traveled in a hip flask and kept him loaded.

Like a flash he reached beneath his jacket and just as the giant in front of him stood in alarm, Harry took a sip from his pistol and pointed his flask at his enemy. "You's gonna use that in here?" said the barn builder, as Harry sputtered and rearranged himself into a more threatening configuration. "Only if I have to."

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PostSubject: Re: Finish the Story   Fri Feb 08, 2008 9:13 am

James Jay wrote:

It was a dark and stormy night.

QuantumCowboy wrote:
Detective Harry Blighter eased back in his desk chair, eye bent on the clue before him; a knife, the ugly kind, glinting in the low light of his 52nd St. office like a shiny new nickel.

JamesJay wrote:
"Damn," he said out loud, even though no one was in his office, "that knife is sharp, in the same way a spoon isn't."

QuantumCowboy wrote:
Harry leaned back in his chair and mulled over his next move, drawing a cigarette from the pocket of his trenchcoat as he did so -- his favorite brand, Fatima. With a flick of his zippo and a puff of extra mild, insight came as it always did; there it was, the knife's maker, etched into to the steel blade: Harvey Carvey's Professional Cutlery and Other Cutting Things, Limited. 23rd Street and Harbor. His least favorite part of town

James Jay wrote:
since there was no Starbucks anywhere. Fatimas taste so much smoother with a Half-Cap Nonfat Espresso with a shot of Caramel, but hey, not every hard-boiled gumshoe can have everything he wants. He'd have to settle for a cup of joe at Joe's, the greasy spoon next door to Harvey Carvey's Professional Cutlery and Other Cutting Things, Limited.

QuantumCowboy wrote:
Twenty minutes and four dollars cab fare later, Harry was on the scene. It was quiet... yeah, a little too quiet. The harbor district was deserted, and no sound but the soft patter of rain on the oily streets greeted our hero as he sidled in through the door into the dingy diner known only as Joe's. The only three men inside, seated over coffee and a shared plate of fries, eyed him suspiciously. Harry's gut went cold.

tamitha wrote:
Fries were his downfall, and he couldn't bear the thought of sharing them with anyone, including the blonde behind the counter.

QuantumCowboy wrote:
Blondes were his other downfall, and he couldn't bear the thought of sharing them with anyone either -- these men had to go. Harry reached inside his trenchcoat for his badge, but then stopped himself. Wait a minute, he thought to himself, one of these class-acts might know something. And deciding to take the low-key route, he let his hand fall from the badge, and sidled into the booth next to the three men, drawing another Fatima instead.

James Jay wrote:
"So," Harry breathed heavily, blowing smoke into the face of the first thug, the one with the eyepatch and tattoo that read 'Born to Raise Barns'. "Any of you third rate film noir uglies heard any good blonde jokes recently?"

Tamitha wrote:
"A priest, a rabbi, and a blonde walk into a bar," he blurted out looking up at Harry.

Kara wrote:
"But the priest and rabbi ducked," replied Harry. "Yeah, yeah...I"ve heard that one before. Let's just get down to business, fellas."

James Jay wrote:
Harry knew these goons had information regarding the recent theft of the Maltomeal Penguin, a valuable statuette made, incredibly, of oatmeal. Harry had to get the Penguin back at all costs, and with the knife in his pocket, bad coffee in his stomach, and a vile remark on his lips, he inquired.........

QuantumCowboy wrote:
"I'm in the market for a knife. The ugly kind. Any of you boys know this guy Carvey? I hear he makes a mean knife. And he likes oatmeal... I respect that in a man, I like oatmeal too. So?"

keltroncybo wrote:
The brute with the penchant for barn building smiled a wry smile and sipped his sludgy coffee. After nudging his friend, the one with the eye patch, he grunted, "what's it to you fella?" Harry knew when to trust his gut, and aside from the heartburn swelling up in his bosom it was telling him something...

QuantumCowboy wrote:

That it was all about to hit the fan. One look at the tatoo on the bulging arm in front of him said it all: "I work for Harvey Carvey." Suddenly, Harry was glad he brought along his two best buddies -- the one he kept loaded and that traveled in a holster, and the other that traveled in a hip flask and kept him loaded.

keltroncybo wrote:

Like a flash he reached beneath his jacket and just as the giant in front of him stood in alarm, Harry took a sip from his pistol and pointed his flask at his enemy. "You's gonna use that in here?" said the barn builder, as Harry sputtered and rearranged himself into a more threatening configuration. "Only if I have to."

The goons shuffled nervously. "Ok," Harry said, taking a pull from the flask this time to clear his head, "Let me get this straight... you work for Harvey Carvey, and you are a serial barn builder." The third goon, a quiet type, nodded, "Go on...." "Well," said Harvey, " I don't know quite where you fit in, or how all this comes together, but let me tell you this... I know about the Maltomeal Penguin, and I know something's fishy about you guys and this knife place next door. So watch yourselves." As Harvey holstered his flask and wedged the pistol in his hip pocket, he stepped back out onto the dark, empty street. Something still wasn't right... what was the missing piece? Hands in his pockets, he shuffled towards Harvey Carvey's.

_________________
_____
~QC
"Acting is all about honesty... if you can fake that, you've got it down." --Oscar Wilde.
"You must unlearn what you have learned." --Yoda, Jedi Master.
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Registration date : 2008-01-18

PostSubject: Re: Finish the Story   Fri Feb 08, 2008 10:18 am

James Jay wrote:

It was a dark and stormy night.

QuantumCowboy wrote:
Detective Harry Blighter eased back in his desk chair, eye bent on the clue before him; a knife, the ugly kind, glinting in the low light of his 52nd St. office like a shiny new nickel.

JamesJay wrote:
"Damn," he said out loud, even though no one was in his office, "that knife is sharp, in the same way a spoon isn't."

QuantumCowboy wrote:
Harry leaned back in his chair and mulled over his next move, drawing a cigarette from the pocket of his trenchcoat as he did so -- his favorite brand, Fatima. With a flick of his zippo and a puff of extra mild, insight came as it always did; there it was, the knife's maker, etched into to the steel blade: Harvey Carvey's Professional Cutlery and Other Cutting Things, Limited. 23rd Street and Harbor. His least favorite part of town

James Jay wrote:
since there was no Starbucks anywhere. Fatimas taste so much smoother with a Half-Cap Nonfat Espresso with a shot of Caramel, but hey, not every hard-boiled gumshoe can have everything he wants. He'd have to settle for a cup of joe at Joe's, the greasy spoon next door to Harvey Carvey's Professional Cutlery and Other Cutting Things, Limited.

QuantumCowboy wrote:
Twenty minutes and four dollars cab fare later, Harry was on the scene. It was quiet... yeah, a little too quiet. The harbor district was deserted, and no sound but the soft patter of rain on the oily streets greeted our hero as he sidled in through the door into the dingy diner known only as Joe's. The only three men inside, seated over coffee and a shared plate of fries, eyed him suspiciously. Harry's gut went cold.

tamitha wrote:
Fries were his downfall, and he couldn't bear the thought of sharing them with anyone, including the blonde behind the counter.

QuantumCowboy wrote:
Blondes were his other downfall, and he couldn't bear the thought of sharing them with anyone either -- these men had to go. Harry reached inside his trenchcoat for his badge, but then stopped himself. Wait a minute, he thought to himself, one of these class-acts might know something. And deciding to take the low-key route, he let his hand fall from the badge, and sidled into the booth next to the three men, drawing another Fatima instead.

James Jay wrote:
"So," Harry breathed heavily, blowing smoke into the face of the first thug, the one with the eyepatch and tattoo that read 'Born to Raise Barns'. "Any of you third rate film noir uglies heard any good blonde jokes recently?"

Tamitha wrote:
"A priest, a rabbi, and a blonde walk into a bar," he blurted out looking up at Harry.

Kara wrote:
"But the priest and rabbi ducked," replied Harry. "Yeah, yeah...I"ve heard that one before. Let's just get down to business, fellas."

James Jay wrote:
Harry knew these goons had information regarding the recent theft of the Maltomeal Penguin, a valuable statuette made, incredibly, of oatmeal. Harry had to get the Penguin back at all costs, and with the knife in his pocket, bad coffee in his stomach, and a vile remark on his lips, he inquired.........

QuantumCowboy wrote:
"I'm in the market for a knife. The ugly kind. Any of you boys know this guy Carvey? I hear he makes a mean knife. And he likes oatmeal... I respect that in a man, I like oatmeal too. So?"

keltroncybo wrote:
The brute with the penchant for barn building smiled a wry smile and sipped his sludgy coffee. After nudging his friend, the one with the eye patch, he grunted, "what's it to you fella?" Harry knew when to trust his gut, and aside from the heartburn swelling up in his bosom it was telling him something...

QuantumCowboy wrote:

That it was all about to hit the fan. One look at the tatoo on the bulging arm in front of him said it all: "I work for Harvey Carvey." Suddenly, Harry was glad he brought along his two best buddies -- the one he kept loaded and that traveled in a holster, and the other that traveled in a hip flask and kept him loaded.

keltroncybo wrote:

Like a flash he reached beneath his jacket and just as the giant in front of him stood in alarm, Harry took a sip from his pistol and pointed his flask at his enemy. "You's gonna use that in here?" said the barn builder, as Harry sputtered and rearranged himself into a more threatening configuration. "Only if I have to."
QuantumCowboy wrote:

The goons shuffled nervously. "Ok," Harry said, taking a pull from the flask this time to clear his head, "Let me get this straight... you work for Harvey Carvey, and you are a serial barn builder." The third goon, a quiet type, nodded, "Go on...." "Well," said Harvey, " I don't know quite where you fit in, or how all this comes together, but let me tell you this... I know about the Maltomeal Penguin, and I know something's fishy about you guys and this knife place next door. So watch yourselves." As Harvey holstered his flask and wedged the pistol in his hip pocket, he stepped back out onto the dark, empty street. Something still wasn't right... what was the missing piece? Hands in his pockets, he shuffled towards Harvey Carvey's.

There was always a missing piece, thought Harry. Just like when you're working diligently on one of those beautiful Thomas Kincade jigsaw puzzles, the 1000 piece that sparkle and would look realy swell next to your light up vanity, only to discover that just as you are finishing it after many nights staying up late sipping non-fat mocha lattes listening to Kenny G, a piece is missing! You feel so frustrated you could just yell Oh poop! and scrap the whole nonsense. Harry had a moment of realization, and, questioning his own masculanity, shot a passing alley cat, spit on the street, and vowed never to let the latte's get the better of him again.
Now, where was that knife store?

_________________
If all the world is a stage, then some roles should be recast.

"Always remember, no matter where you go, there you are."--Buckaroo Banzai
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PostSubject: Re: Finish the Story   Mon Feb 25, 2008 5:15 pm

James Jay wrote:

It was a dark and stormy night.

QuantumCowboy wrote:
Detective Harry Blighter eased back in his desk chair, eye bent on the clue before him; a knife, the ugly kind, glinting in the low light of his 52nd St. office like a shiny new nickel.

JamesJay wrote:
"Damn," he said out loud, even though no one was in his office, "that knife is sharp, in the same way a spoon isn't."

QuantumCowboy wrote:
Harry leaned back in his chair and mulled over his next move, drawing a cigarette from the pocket of his trenchcoat as he did so -- his favorite brand, Fatima. With a flick of his zippo and a puff of extra mild, insight came as it always did; there it was, the knife's maker, etched into to the steel blade: Harvey Carvey's Professional Cutlery and Other Cutting Things, Limited. 23rd Street and Harbor. His least favorite part of town

James Jay wrote:
since there was no Starbucks anywhere. Fatimas taste so much smoother with a Half-Cap Nonfat Espresso with a shot of Caramel, but hey, not every hard-boiled gumshoe can have everything he wants. He'd have to settle for a cup of joe at Joe's, the greasy spoon next door to Harvey Carvey's Professional Cutlery and Other Cutting Things, Limited.

QuantumCowboy wrote:
Twenty minutes and four dollars cab fare later, Harry was on the scene. It was quiet... yeah, a little too quiet. The harbor district was deserted, and no sound but the soft patter of rain on the oily streets greeted our hero as he sidled in through the door into the dingy diner known only as Joe's. The only three men inside, seated over coffee and a shared plate of fries, eyed him suspiciously. Harry's gut went cold.

tamitha wrote:
Fries were his downfall, and he couldn't bear the thought of sharing them with anyone, including the blonde behind the counter.

QuantumCowboy wrote:
Blondes were his other downfall, and he couldn't bear the thought of sharing them with anyone either -- these men had to go. Harry reached inside his trenchcoat for his badge, but then stopped himself. Wait a minute, he thought to himself, one of these class-acts might know something. And deciding to take the low-key route, he let his hand fall from the badge, and sidled into the booth next to the three men, drawing another Fatima instead.

James Jay wrote:
"So," Harry breathed heavily, blowing smoke into the face of the first thug, the one with the eyepatch and tattoo that read 'Born to Raise Barns'. "Any of you third rate film noir uglies heard any good blonde jokes recently?"

Tamitha wrote:
"A priest, a rabbi, and a blonde walk into a bar," he blurted out looking up at Harry.

Kara wrote:
"But the priest and rabbi ducked," replied Harry. "Yeah, yeah...I"ve heard that one before. Let's just get down to business, fellas."

James Jay wrote:
Harry knew these goons had information regarding the recent theft of the Maltomeal Penguin, a valuable statuette made, incredibly, of oatmeal. Harry had to get the Penguin back at all costs, and with the knife in his pocket, bad coffee in his stomach, and a vile remark on his lips, he inquired.........

QuantumCowboy wrote:
"I'm in the market for a knife. The ugly kind. Any of you boys know this guy Carvey? I hear he makes a mean knife. And he likes oatmeal... I respect that in a man, I like oatmeal too. So?"

keltroncybo wrote:
The brute with the penchant for barn building smiled a wry smile and sipped his sludgy coffee. After nudging his friend, the one with the eye patch, he grunted, "what's it to you fella?" Harry knew when to trust his gut, and aside from the heartburn swelling up in his bosom it was telling him something...

QuantumCowboy wrote:

That it was all about to hit the fan. One look at the tatoo on the bulging arm in front of him said it all: "I work for Harvey Carvey." Suddenly, Harry was glad he brought along his two best buddies -- the one he kept loaded and that traveled in a holster, and the other that traveled in a hip flask and kept him loaded.

keltroncybo wrote:

Like a flash he reached beneath his jacket and just as the giant in front of him stood in alarm, Harry took a sip from his pistol and pointed his flask at his enemy. "You's gonna use that in here?" said the barn builder, as Harry sputtered and rearranged himself into a more threatening configuration. "Only if I have to."
QuantumCowboy wrote:

The goons shuffled nervously. "Ok," Harry said, taking a pull from the flask this time to clear his head, "Let me get this straight... you work for Harvey Carvey, and you are a serial barn builder." The third goon, a quiet type, nodded, "Go on...." "Well," said Harvey, " I don't know quite where you fit in, or how all this comes together, but let me tell you this... I know about the Maltomeal Penguin, and I know something's fishy about you guys and this knife place next door. So watch yourselves." As Harvey holstered his flask and wedged the pistol in his hip pocket, he stepped back out onto the dark, empty street. Something still wasn't right... what was the missing piece? Hands in his pockets, he shuffled towards Harvey Carvey's.

James Jay wrote:

There was always a missing piece, thought Harry. Just like when you're working diligently on one of those beautiful Thomas Kincade jigsaw puzzles, the 1000 piece that sparkle and would look realy swell next to your light up vanity, only to discover that just as you are finishing it after many nights staying up late sipping non-fat mocha lattes listening to Kenny G, a piece is missing! You feel so frustrated you could just yell Oh poop! and scrap the whole nonsense. Harry had a moment of realization, and, questioning his own masculanity, shot a passing alley cat, spit on the street, and vowed never to let the latte's get the better of him again.
Now, where was that knife store?

Ah, there it was, right next door. A dark, dingy place - and it didn't look like anyone was in. Not surprising for this hour. Harry turned towards the harbor to light another Fatima, contemplating the significance of the knife that had been found on the scene of the missing Maltomeal Penguin. As he flicked his lighter in the rain, lightening suddenly flashed across the dark sky. There, illuminated for a brief instant through the rain, was a barn in the middle of a field across the water. Right across the harbor from Harvey Carvey's knife shop! Harry's cig dropped from his open mouth, and quickly became soaked with water and oil from the street.

_________________
_____
~QC
"Acting is all about honesty... if you can fake that, you've got it down." --Oscar Wilde.
"You must unlearn what you have learned." --Yoda, Jedi Master.
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James Jay
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avatar

Number of posts : 137
Age : 49
Location : Neenerville
Registration date : 2008-01-18

PostSubject: Re: Finish the Story   Tue Feb 26, 2008 2:08 pm

James Jay wrote:

It was a dark and stormy night.

QuantumCowboy wrote:
Detective Harry Blighter eased back in his desk chair, eye bent on the clue before him; a knife, the ugly kind, glinting in the low light of his 52nd St. office like a shiny new nickel.

JamesJay wrote:
"Damn," he said out loud, even though no one was in his office, "that knife is sharp, in the same way a spoon isn't."

QuantumCowboy wrote:
Harry leaned back in his chair and mulled over his next move, drawing a cigarette from the pocket of his trenchcoat as he did so -- his favorite brand, Fatima. With a flick of his zippo and a puff of extra mild, insight came as it always did; there it was, the knife's maker, etched into to the steel blade: Harvey Carvey's Professional Cutlery and Other Cutting Things, Limited. 23rd Street and Harbor. His least favorite part of town

James Jay wrote:
since there was no Starbucks anywhere. Fatimas taste so much smoother with a Half-Cap Nonfat Espresso with a shot of Caramel, but hey, not every hard-boiled gumshoe can have everything he wants. He'd have to settle for a cup of joe at Joe's, the greasy spoon next door to Harvey Carvey's Professional Cutlery and Other Cutting Things, Limited.

QuantumCowboy wrote:
Twenty minutes and four dollars cab fare later, Harry was on the scene. It was quiet... yeah, a little too quiet. The harbor district was deserted, and no sound but the soft patter of rain on the oily streets greeted our hero as he sidled in through the door into the dingy diner known only as Joe's. The only three men inside, seated over coffee and a shared plate of fries, eyed him suspiciously. Harry's gut went cold.

tamitha wrote:
Fries were his downfall, and he couldn't bear the thought of sharing them with anyone, including the blonde behind the counter.

QuantumCowboy wrote:
Blondes were his other downfall, and he couldn't bear the thought of sharing them with anyone either -- these men had to go. Harry reached inside his trenchcoat for his badge, but then stopped himself. Wait a minute, he thought to himself, one of these class-acts might know something. And deciding to take the low-key route, he let his hand fall from the badge, and sidled into the booth next to the three men, drawing another Fatima instead.

James Jay wrote:
"So," Harry breathed heavily, blowing smoke into the face of the first thug, the one with the eyepatch and tattoo that read 'Born to Raise Barns'. "Any of you third rate film noir uglies heard any good blonde jokes recently?"

Tamitha wrote:
"A priest, a rabbi, and a blonde walk into a bar," he blurted out looking up at Harry.

Kara wrote:
"But the priest and rabbi ducked," replied Harry. "Yeah, yeah...I"ve heard that one before. Let's just get down to business, fellas."

James Jay wrote:
Harry knew these goons had information regarding the recent theft of the Maltomeal Penguin, a valuable statuette made, incredibly, of oatmeal. Harry had to get the Penguin back at all costs, and with the knife in his pocket, bad coffee in his stomach, and a vile remark on his lips, he inquired.........

QuantumCowboy wrote:
"I'm in the market for a knife. The ugly kind. Any of you boys know this guy Carvey? I hear he makes a mean knife. And he likes oatmeal... I respect that in a man, I like oatmeal too. So?"

keltroncybo wrote:
The brute with the penchant for barn building smiled a wry smile and sipped his sludgy coffee. After nudging his friend, the one with the eye patch, he grunted, "what's it to you fella?" Harry knew when to trust his gut, and aside from the heartburn swelling up in his bosom it was telling him something...

QuantumCowboy wrote:

That it was all about to hit the fan. One look at the tatoo on the bulging arm in front of him said it all: "I work for Harvey Carvey." Suddenly, Harry was glad he brought along his two best buddies -- the one he kept loaded and that traveled in a holster, and the other that traveled in a hip flask and kept him loaded.

keltroncybo wrote:

Like a flash he reached beneath his jacket and just as the giant in front of him stood in alarm, Harry took a sip from his pistol and pointed his flask at his enemy. "You's gonna use that in here?" said the barn builder, as Harry sputtered and rearranged himself into a more threatening configuration. "Only if I have to."
QuantumCowboy wrote:

The goons shuffled nervously. "Ok," Harry said, taking a pull from the flask this time to clear his head, "Let me get this straight... you work for Harvey Carvey, and you are a serial barn builder." The third goon, a quiet type, nodded, "Go on...." "Well," said Harvey, " I don't know quite where you fit in, or how all this comes together, but let me tell you this... I know about the Maltomeal Penguin, and I know something's fishy about you guys and this knife place next door. So watch yourselves." As Harvey holstered his flask and wedged the pistol in his hip pocket, he stepped back out onto the dark, empty street. Something still wasn't right... what was the missing piece? Hands in his pockets, he shuffled towards Harvey Carvey's.

James Jay wrote:

There was always a missing piece, thought Harry. Just like when you're working diligently on one of those beautiful Thomas Kincade jigsaw puzzles, the 1000 piece that sparkle and would look realy swell next to your light up vanity, only to discover that just as you are finishing it after many nights staying up late sipping non-fat mocha lattes listening to Kenny G, a piece is missing! You feel so frustrated you could just yell Oh poop! and scrap the whole nonsense. Harry had a moment of realization, and, questioning his own masculanity, shot a passing alley cat, spit on the street, and vowed never to let the latte's get the better of him again.
Now, where was that knife store?

QuantumCowboy wrote:
Ah, there it was, right next door. A dark, dingy place - and it didn't look like anyone was in. Not surprising for this hour. Harry turned towards the harbor to light another Fatima, contemplating the significance of the knife that had been found on the scene of the missing Maltomeal Penguin. As he flicked his lighter in the rain, lightening suddenly flashed across the dark sky. There, illuminated for a brief instant through the rain, was a barn in the middle of a field across the water. Right across the harbor from Harvey Carvey's knife shop! Harry's cig dropped from his open mouth, and quickly became soaked with water and oil from the street.

Harry was struck by the irony of it all. A barn across the harbor. A missing penguin. Oil and water. Someone needed to let the cat out of the bag, because the cows had come home to a safe harbor, and all the clouds had a silver lining. Once Harry had finished mixing his metaphors, he was off like a herd of turtles towards the barn across the harbor to get answers to the questions pounding around in his brain like so many lead balloons dropping.

_________________
If all the world is a stage, then some roles should be recast.

"Always remember, no matter where you go, there you are."--Buckaroo Banzai
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PostSubject: Re: Finish the Story   Thu Mar 06, 2008 9:49 pm


He realized, forlornly, that he was doomed. Doomed never to answer the burning questions: Where was the penguin? What was the meaning of the barn? What really happened to that missing puzzle piece. Harry knew that unless his fearless writers got off their lazy butts, the answers would come in the same way a beligerant two-year old does when told to clean up his room.

_________________
If all the world is a stage, then some roles should be recast.

"Always remember, no matter where you go, there you are."--Buckaroo Banzai
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Registration date : 2008-01-18

PostSubject: Re: Finish the Story   Tue Mar 25, 2008 1:24 pm

And so, our hero, daunted by the lack of committed writers, saddled up his tired cliches, and rode off into the sunset, remebering the immortal words of Socrates who said, "I drank what?" as he pulled a swig from his hip flask, wallowing in the misery that is only provided by the subtle nuances of overdone single sentences.

We'd like to say that they all lived happily ever after, but that doesn't work well with our hero, so suffice it to say that the main characters of our tale inhabited a wonderful place blissfully, contentedly, and cheerfully for the full and complete duration of an eternal existence.

Fin.

_________________
If all the world is a stage, then some roles should be recast.

"Always remember, no matter where you go, there you are."--Buckaroo Banzai
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