Neverending Story
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It was a cold day on Ooglethorpe Street, and the simians were restless. They couldn't believe it. What they saw really took the cake. -Rolypolyman
In the blustering wind, a figure stood on that wide Ooglethorp pavement - small hat clamped firmly on large head, one wee grippy hand holding loose trousers and preventing modesty dysfunction. The other wee grippy hand clasped a ratty length of string that ended in a beast - to whit, a mothy-eaten dogger of uncertain description and indeterminate heritage. -prismatic7
In the shadows of the alley, Regan slowly opened her eyes. The cold steel of the sword felt reassuringly cold and she could hear the low buzz of the drone far overhead. The simians were, as the had always been, completely unaware of the danger they were in. Regan watched the figure with the small hat as it was leaning over and whispering to the dog. -TheCarolingian
The dog, on the other hand, was more concerned with haggling over the price of processed meat with the street vendor across the way. The dog was swearing like a drunken sailor, and his accent was strangely familiar. As was the smell of his tobacco smoke. Plus the fact he was a pipe-smoking, talking dog with a mouth like a docker. kitfisto 10:12, 4 May 2005 (EDT)
"Aye, ye scalliwags! Hoist the mainstay, belay the mainbrace, and swab the poop deck!" said the wretched dog. "And I will not pay 20 doubloons for that filthy liverwurst!"
"It is a drunken sailor!" said Regan. "You, dog, come over here!" -Rolypolyman
The vendor threw up his hands in frustration and shouted out "I'm not selling you no hot dogs Dog!" in an accented voice that reminded many of the eavesdropping simians of the Seinfeld Soup Nazi, eliciting more chattering. The bonobo on the fourth-floor fire escape was the first one to notice the approaching drone, if by "notice" you mean being struck by the drone's disintegration ray, highly effective in dissolving most substances except for certain metals. And very quiet also, which was why Regan was still the only one seeing the deadly drone, as she gripped the sword handle a little more tightly, assuring herself of her abilities but still slightly wishful that the sword's blade were about a half-meter wider. Still, the drone's success period in stealth mode was about to end as the solid silver ankle bracelet the late bonobo had been wearing fell the three stories onto the head of the already agitated dogger. -Wendell
The silver ankle bracelet bounced off the agitated dogger's head, landing at the feet of the figure who stood on that wide Ooglethorp pavement - small hat clamped firmly on large head, one wee grippy hand holding loose trousers and preventing modesty dysfunction. The figure exclaimed “From the sky drops a small fortune!” -bratcat
One wee grippy hand snatched out and down as that poor mangy dogger did reel, stagger and fall - no sense letting good silver touch bad ground for too long, thunk he of the grippies. "An it be worth but a penny," said that ragged-trousered misanthropist "'tis a penn'orth more than the day before!" One wee grippy hand returned to the sagging trousers, now weighted with gypsy silver. -prismatic7
Unfortunately for the misanthropist, he stood there too long. The dog woke up and assessed the situation, quite quickly, in the manner of dogs. They don't need caffeine to grasp the essentials. It took him only one leap and a bite and the hated string pulled loose from the gripping hand. The trousers, which had been sorely in need of a strategic mend, or perhaps a belt, went with the dog, through the alley and between a transfixed Regan's knobbled knees. The wee grippy's grimy wee undershorts were now on view for all to see, including the hidden masters of the drone as they clustered around their touchingly moderne oval eyed video screen. The drone wobbled and whirled. The simians hooted, looking up to see what new fun might come from the leaden orange skies. -Mygothlaundry
That wee mangy mongrel scampered through the darkening streets, trailing his manky string behind his flea-struck legs. Behind him came the plaintive cry: "Come back 'ere, ye bugger!" -prismatic7
