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Old 10-26-2005, 03:26 PM   #1
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start (is this the right idea?)

once upon a time....
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Old 10-27-2005, 01:07 AM   #2
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Once upon a time there was a blue bottle that had been around forever, so long that no one knew where it had come from; attractive enough not to throw away, large enough to have been used for something in the past, although no one remembered what. One day someone picked it up, dusted it off, and
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Old 10-27-2005, 01:11 AM   #3
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Once upon a time there was a blue bottle that had been around forever, so long that no one knew where it had come from; attractive enough not to throw away, large enough to have been used for something in the past, although no one remembered what. One day someone picked it up, dusted it off, and seeing the way the bottle shone and sparkled in the sunlight as if it held a million dancing stars, said "This should bring in a few bucks on e-bay!".

Last edited by Hyakujo's Fox : 10-27-2005 at 01:17 AM. Reason: fraction too much fiction
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Old 10-27-2005, 12:31 PM   #4
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Once upon a time there was a blue bottle that had been around forever, so long that no one knew where it had come from; attractive enough not to throw away, large enough to have been used for something in the past, although no one remembered what. One day someone picked it up, dusted it off, and seeing the way the bottle shone and sparkled in the sunlight as if it held a million dancing stars, said "This should bring in a few bucks on e-bay!".
So the guy sold this magical and oh so sparkley bottle for a resonable amount of money and brought a poodle called Fifi. He loved Fifi very much except...
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Old 10-27-2005, 03:14 PM   #5
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Once upon a time there was a blue bottle that had been around forever, so long that no one knew where it had come from; attractive enough not to throw away, large enough to have been used for something in the past, although no one remembered what. One day someone picked it up, dusted it off, and seeing the way the bottle shone and sparkled in the sunlight as if it held a million dancing stars, said "This should bring in a few bucks on e-bay!".
So the guy sold this magical and oh so sparkley bottle for a resonable amount of money and brought a poodle called Fifi. He loved Fifi very much except when she piddled in places she shouldn't. One day Fifi had puppies, to everyone's astonishment (including Fifi's). Six of them, to be exact. They were very cute and, completely against poodle nature, were all of the very quiet and non-vibrating/neurotic sort. They were snapped up like chocolate chip cookies by various people, all except one, whose name was
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Old 10-27-2005, 05:09 PM   #6
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Once upon a time there was a blue bottle that had been around forever, so long that no one knew where it had come from; attractive enough not to throw away, large enough to have been used for something in the past, although no one remembered what. One day someone picked it up, dusted it off, and seeing the way the bottle shone and sparkled in the sunlight as if it held a million dancing stars, said "This should bring in a few bucks on e-bay!".
So the guy sold this magical and oh so sparkley bottle for a resonable amount of money and brought a poodle called Fifi. He loved Fifi very much except when she piddled in places she shouldn't. One day Fifi had puppies, to everyone's astonishment (including Fifi's). Six of them, to be exact. They were very cute and, completely against poodle nature, were all of the very quiet and non-vibrating/neurotic sort. They were snapped up like chocolate chip cookies by various people, all except one, whose name was
George. He was small and grey and had a habit of sniffing everything, come to think of it, that was all that he did. He didnt really need the rest of himself, just a nose on legs would have been fine for him. He once got into big trouble because he sniffed..
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Old 10-27-2005, 10:40 PM   #7
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Once upon a time there was a blue bottle that had been around forever, so long that no one knew where it had come from; attractive enough not to throw away, large enough to have been used for something in the past, although no one remembered what. One day someone picked it up, dusted it off, and seeing the way the bottle shone and sparkled in the sunlight as if it held a million dancing stars, said "This should bring in a few bucks on e-bay!".

So the guy sold this magical and oh so sparkley bottle for a resonable amount of money and brought a poodle called Fifi. He loved Fifi very much except when she piddled in places she shouldn't. One day Fifi had puppies, to everyone's astonishment (including Fifi's). Six of them, to be exact. They were very cute and, completely against poodle nature, were all of the very quiet and non-vibrating/neurotic sort. They were snapped up like chocolate chip cookies by various people, all except one, whose name was George. He was small and grey and had a habit of sniffing everything, come to think of it, that was all that he did. He didnt really need the rest of himself, just a nose on legs would have been fine for him. He once got into big trouble because he sniffed something he shouldn't but that, of course, is another story.

So the guy, Fifi and George were getting along just fine (except for Fifi's occasional misdirected piddling) until one day a strange letter arrived. The letter was tattered and dirty and had obviously come from a country where the personal hygiene of postal workers wasn't up to the high standards we have come to expect in this country. The letter was addressed to Guy Chestnut. "Hey, that's my name!" the guy exclaimed.
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Old 10-28-2005, 08:54 AM   #8
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Once upon a time there was a blue bottle that had been around forever, so long that no one knew where it had come from; attractive enough not to throw away, large enough to have been used for something in the past, although no one remembered what. One day someone picked it up, dusted it off, and seeing the way the bottle shone and sparkled in the sunlight as if it held a million dancing stars, said "This should bring in a few bucks on e-bay!".

So the guy sold this magical and oh so sparkley bottle for a resonable amount of money and brought a poodle called Fifi. He loved Fifi very much except when she piddled in places she shouldn't. One day Fifi had puppies, to everyone's astonishment (including Fifi's). Six of them, to be exact. They were very cute and, completely against poodle nature, were all of the very quiet and non-vibrating/neurotic sort. They were snapped up like chocolate chip cookies by various people, all except one, whose name was George. He was small and grey and had a habit of sniffing everything, come to think of it, that was all that he did. He didnt really need the rest of himself, just a nose on legs would have been fine for him. He once got into big trouble because he sniffed something he shouldn't but that, of course, is another story.

So the guy, Fifi and George were getting along just fine (except for Fifi's occasional misdirected piddling) until one day a strange letter arrived. The letter was tattered and dirty and had obviously come from a country where the personal hygiene of postal workers wasn't up to the high standards we have come to expect in this country. The letter was addressed to Guy Chestnut. "Hey, that's my name!" the guy exclaimed.

The letter, completely against letter nature, seemed to Guiy to be the loud, vibrating, neurotic sort -- not that it was actually loud, except in the unusual colors of paper and ink, nor vibrating except that Guy's nervous fingers couldn't seem to hold it still, nor neurotic. How could an unopened letter be neurotic?
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Old 10-29-2005, 10:01 PM   #9
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Once upon a time there was a blue bottle that had been around forever, so long that no one knew where it had come from; attractive enough not to throw away, large enough to have been used for something in the past, although no one remembered what. One day someone picked it up, dusted it off, and seeing the way the bottle shone and sparkled in the sunlight as if it held a million dancing stars, said "This should bring in a few bucks on e-bay!".

So the guy sold this magical and oh so sparkley bottle for a resonable amount of money and brought a poodle called Fifi. He loved Fifi very much except when she piddled in places she shouldn't. One day Fifi had puppies, to everyone's astonishment (including Fifi's). Six of them, to be exact. They were very cute and, completely against poodle nature, were all of the very quiet and non-vibrating/neurotic sort. They were snapped up like chocolate chip cookies by various people, all except one, whose name was George. He was small and grey and had a habit of sniffing everything, come to think of it, that was all that he did. He didnt really need the rest of himself, just a nose on legs would have been fine for him. He once got into big trouble because he sniffed something he shouldn't but that, of course, is another story.

So the guy, Fifi and George were getting along just fine (except for Fifi's occasional misdirected piddling) until one day a strange letter arrived. The letter was tattered and dirty and had obviously come from a country where the personal hygiene of postal workers wasn't up to the high standards we have come to expect in this country. The letter was addressed to Guy Chestnut. "Hey, that's my name!" the guy exclaimed.

The letter, completely against letter nature, seemed to Guiy to be the loud, vibrating, neurotic sort -- not that it was actually loud, except in the unusual colors of paper and ink, nor vibrating except that Guy's nervous fingers couldn't seem to hold it still, nor neurotic. How could an unopened letter be neurotic? Fifi looked askance. George sniffed at the letter, gave a quiet "woof!" of alarm, and backed away, whining slightly with anxiety.

Guy set the letter down and turned away from it, only to find that it was once again in his hands. "Well, then," he said, "the only thing to do is open it, I guess." Sliding his finger under the flap, he worked at it in an attempt to open it without tearing it - somehow that seemed appropriate, with such a touchy-seeming letter. It took some time, but eventually he got the flap open with a minimum of damage to the envelope. "Alrighty," he said nervously, "let's see what we've got here." He reached into the envelope gingerly, and
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Old 10-30-2005, 12:04 AM   #10
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Once upon a time there was a blue bottle that had been around forever, so long that no one knew where it had come from; attractive enough not to throw away, large enough to have been used for something in the past, although no one remembered what. One day someone picked it up, dusted it off, and seeing the way the bottle shone and sparkled in the sunlight as if it held a million dancing stars, said "This should bring in a few bucks on e-bay!".

So the guy sold this magical and oh so sparkley bottle for a resonable amount of money and brought a poodle called Fifi. He loved Fifi very much except when she piddled in places she shouldn't. One day Fifi had puppies, to everyone's astonishment (including Fifi's). Six of them, to be exact. They were very cute and, completely against poodle nature, were all of the very quiet and non-vibrating/neurotic sort. They were snapped up like chocolate chip cookies by various people, all except one, whose name was George. He was small and grey and had a habit of sniffing everything, come to think of it, that was all that he did. He didnt really need the rest of himself, just a nose on legs would have been fine for him. He once got into big trouble because he sniffed something he shouldn't but that, of course, is another story.

So the guy, Fifi and George were getting along just fine (except for Fifi's occasional misdirected piddling) until one day a strange letter arrived. The letter was tattered and dirty and had obviously come from a country where the personal hygiene of postal workers wasn't up to the high standards we have come to expect in this country. The letter was addressed to Guy Chestnut. "Hey, that's my name!" the guy exclaimed.

The letter, completely against letter nature, seemed to Guiy to be the loud, vibrating, neurotic sort -- not that it was actually loud, except in the unusual colors of paper and ink, nor vibrating except that Guy's nervous fingers couldn't seem to hold it still, nor neurotic. How could an unopened letter be neurotic? Fifi looked askance. George sniffed at the letter, gave a quiet "woof!" of alarm, and backed away, whining slightly with anxiety.

Guy set the letter down and turned away from it, only to find that it was once again in his hands. "Well, then," he said, "the only thing to do is open it, I guess." Sliding his finger under the flap, he worked at it in an attempt to open it without tearing it - somehow that seemed appropriate, with such a touchy-seeming letter. It took some time, but eventually he got the flap open with a minimum of damage to the envelope. "Alrighty," he said nervously, "let's see what we've got here." He reached into the envelope gingerly, and just as he thought someone had mailed him an empty envelope, a card seem to insert itself between his fingers. He looked at the card, which was pink and smelt like something Guy hadn't smelt before, or someplace he hadn't been before, but perhaps would have liked to had gone if he had known how to get there. Finding the card to be blank, he turned it over to read "P.S. Take Fifi and George along!". "This is exceedingly odd" said Guy as he placed his fingers once again into the envelope and withdrew another card. This time he withdrew a card which bore the words

Miss Penny
Psychic
122 Grünewald Drive

printed on the front, and the words "You should pay this girl a visit!" handwritten on the back.

Last edited by Hyakujo's Fox : 10-30-2005 at 12:07 AM.
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Old 10-30-2005, 03:01 AM   #11
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Once upon a time there was a blue bottle that had been around forever, so long that no one knew where it had come from; attractive enough not to throw away, large enough to have been used for something in the past, although no one remembered what. One day someone picked it up, dusted it off, and seeing the way the bottle shone and sparkled in the sunlight as if it held a million dancing stars, said "This should bring in a few bucks on e-bay!".

So the guy sold this magical and oh so sparkley bottle for a resonable amount of money and brought a poodle called Fifi. He loved Fifi very much except when she piddled in places she shouldn't. One day Fifi had puppies, to everyone's astonishment (including Fifi's). Six of them, to be exact. They were very cute and, completely against poodle nature, were all of the very quiet and non-vibrating/neurotic sort. They were snapped up like chocolate chip cookies by various people, all except one, whose name was George. He was small and grey and had a habit of sniffing everything, come to think of it, that was all that he did. He didnt really need the rest of himself, just a nose on legs would have been fine for him. He once got into big trouble because he sniffed something he shouldn't but that, of course, is another story.

So the guy, Fifi and George were getting along just fine (except for Fifi's occasional misdirected piddling) until one day a strange letter arrived. The letter was tattered and dirty and had obviously come from a country where the personal hygiene of postal workers wasn't up to the high standards we have come to expect in this country. The letter was addressed to Guy Chestnut. "Hey, that's my name!" the guy exclaimed.

The letter, completely against letter nature, seemed to Guiy to be the loud, vibrating, neurotic sort -- not that it was actually loud, except in the unusual colors of paper and ink, nor vibrating except that Guy's nervous fingers couldn't seem to hold it still, nor neurotic. How could an unopened letter be neurotic? Fifi looked askance. George sniffed at the letter, gave a quiet "woof!" of alarm, and backed away, whining slightly with anxiety.

Guy set the letter down and turned away from it, only to find that it was once again in his hands. "Well, then," he said, "the only thing to do is open it, I guess." Sliding his finger under the flap, he worked at it in an attempt to open it without tearing it - somehow that seemed appropriate, with such a touchy-seeming letter. It took some time, but eventually he got the flap open with a minimum of damage to the envelope. "Alrighty," he said nervously, "let's see what we've got here." He reached into the envelope gingerly, and just as he thought someone had mailed him an empty envelope, a card seem to insert itself between his fingers. He looked at the card, which was pink and smelt like something Guy hadn't smelt before, or someplace he hadn't been before, but perhaps would have liked to had gone if he had known how to get there. Finding the card to be blank, he turned it over to read "P.S. Take Fifi and George along!". "This is exceedingly odd" said Guy as he placed his fingers once again into the envelope and withdrew another card. This time he withdrew a card which bore the words

Miss Penny
Psychic
122 Grünewald Drive

printed on the front, and the words "You should pay this girl a visit!" handwritten on the back. "What girl?" thought Guy, giving a quizzical look at George, who was snuffling away at the first card, and looked in danger of possibly eating it. Too distracted to notice, Guy peered into the envelope once more, only to be met with a flurry of slips of paper of various sizes and colors. The next minute or so man and dogs danced around in an attempt to catch some of them, only to find that most of them were blank, while others were simply more suggestions that he visit "the girl", worded in various ways, such as "You really should visit this girl" and "This is a girl you should visit!"

"Fine!" yelled Guy. "I'll visit her! Just tell me where she is!" And then felt rather silly, to be yelling at an envelope. Further forays with his fingers into the envelope produced no more papers. "I suppose I need to visit this Penny person," he said with a sigh, and set the envelope down.
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Last edited by lapietra : 10-31-2005 at 07:27 PM. Reason: needed to change Guy's tone of voice...
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Old 11-02-2005, 12:38 PM   #12
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Once upon a time there was a blue bottle that had been around forever, so long that no one knew where it had come from; attractive enough not to throw away, large enough to have been used for something in the past, although no one remembered what. One day someone picked it up, dusted it off, and seeing the way the bottle shone and sparkled in the sunlight as if it held a million dancing stars, said "This should bring in a few bucks on e-bay!".

So the guy sold this magical and oh so sparkley bottle for a resonable amount of money and brought a poodle called Fifi. He loved Fifi very much except when she piddled in places she shouldn't. One day Fifi had puppies, to everyone's astonishment (including Fifi's). Six of them, to be exact. They were very cute and, completely against poodle nature, were all of the very quiet and non-vibrating/neurotic sort. They were snapped up like chocolate chip cookies by various people, all except one, whose name was George. He was small and grey and had a habit of sniffing everything, come to think of it, that was all that he did. He didnt really need the rest of himself, just a nose on legs would have been fine for him. He once got into big trouble because he sniffed something he shouldn't but that, of course, is another story.

So the guy, Fifi and George were getting along just fine (except for Fifi's occasional misdirected piddling) until one day a strange letter arrived. The letter was tattered and dirty and had obviously come from a country where the personal hygiene of postal workers wasn't up to the high standards we have come to expect in this country. The letter was addressed to Guy Chestnut. "Hey, that's my name!" the guy exclaimed.

The letter, completely against letter nature, seemed to Guiy to be the loud, vibrating, neurotic sort -- not that it was actually loud, except in the unusual colors of paper and ink, nor vibrating except that Guy's nervous fingers couldn't seem to hold it still, nor neurotic. How could an unopened letter be neurotic? Fifi looked askance. George sniffed at the letter, gave a quiet "woof!" of alarm, and backed away, whining slightly with anxiety.

Guy set the letter down and turned away from it, only to find that it was once again in his hands. "Well, then," he said, "the only thing to do is open it, I guess." Sliding his finger under the flap, he worked at it in an attempt to open it without tearing it - somehow that seemed appropriate, with such a touchy-seeming letter. It took some time, but eventually he got the flap open with a minimum of damage to the envelope. "Alrighty," he said nervously, "let's see what we've got here." He reached into the envelope gingerly, and just as he thought someone had mailed him an empty envelope, a card seem to insert itself between his fingers. He looked at the card, which was pink and smelt like something Guy hadn't smelt before, or someplace he hadn't been before, but perhaps would have liked to had gone if he had known how to get there. Finding the card to be blank, he turned it over to read "P.S. Take Fifi and George along!". "This is exceedingly odd" said Guy as he placed his fingers once again into the envelope and withdrew another card. This time he withdrew a card which bore the words

Miss Penny
Psychic
122 Grünewald Drive

printed on the front, and the words "You should pay this girl a visit!" handwritten on the back. "What girl?" thought Guy, giving a quizzical look at George, who was snuffling away at the first card, and looked in danger of possibly eating it. Too distracted to notice, Guy peered into the envelope once more, only to be met with a flurry of slips of paper of various sizes and colors. The next minute or so man and dogs danced around in an attempt to catch some of them, only to find that most of them were blank, while others were simply more suggestions that he visit "the girl", worded in various ways, such as "You really should visit this girl" and "This is a girl you should visit!"

"Fine!" yelled Guy. "I'll visit her! Just tell me where she is!" And then felt rather silly, to be yelling at an envelope. Further forays with his fingers into the envelope produced no more papers. "I suppose I need to visit this Penny person," he said with a sigh, and set the envelope down. And there it lay for the next two and half days until finally Guy could no longer could distract himself from it. "Okay then!" he shouted at Fifi. "Let's do it."

122 Grünewald Drive turned out to be
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Old 11-04-2005, 12:11 AM   #13
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a brothel on the outskirts of town. Scratching his head in puzzlement, Guy, nevertheless, rang the doorbell. As he was waiting, he noticed a small placard by the doorbell. By using his magnifying glass he found the words "Follow your instincts". Thinking this might be important, Guy thought about it for a moment, then proceeded aroung to the back of the house where dicovered
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Old 11-07-2005, 09:30 PM   #14
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Once upon a time there was a blue bottle that had been around forever, so long that no one knew where it had come from; attractive enough not to throw away, large enough to have been used for something in the past, although no one remembered what. One day someone picked it up, dusted it off, and seeing the way the bottle shone and sparkled in the sunlight as if it held a million dancing stars, said "This should bring in a few bucks on e-bay!".

So the guy sold this magical and oh so sparkley bottle for a resonable amount of money and brought a poodle called Fifi. He loved Fifi very much except when she piddled in places she shouldn't. One day Fifi had puppies, to everyone's astonishment (including Fifi's). Six of them, to be exact. They were very cute and, completely against poodle nature, were all of the very quiet and non-vibrating/neurotic sort. They were snapped up like chocolate chip cookies by various people, all except one, whose name was George. He was small and grey and had a habit of sniffing everything, come to think of it, that was all that he did. He didnt really need the rest of himself, just a nose on legs would have been fine for him. He once got into big trouble because he sniffed something he shouldn't but that, of course, is another story.

So the guy, Fifi and George were getting along just fine (except for Fifi's occasional misdirected piddling) until one day a strange letter arrived. The letter was tattered and dirty and had obviously come from a country where the personal hygiene of postal workers wasn't up to the high standards we have come to expect in this country. The letter was addressed to Guy Chestnut. "Hey, that's my name!" the guy exclaimed.

The letter, completely against letter nature, seemed to Guiy to be the loud, vibrating, neurotic sort -- not that it was actually loud, except in the unusual colors of paper and ink, nor vibrating except that Guy's nervous fingers couldn't seem to hold it still, nor neurotic. How could an unopened letter be neurotic? Fifi looked askance. George sniffed at the letter, gave a quiet "woof!" of alarm, and backed away, whining slightly with anxiety.

Guy set the letter down and turned away from it, only to find that it was once again in his hands. "Well, then," he said, "the only thing to do is open it, I guess." Sliding his finger under the flap, he worked at it in an attempt to open it without tearing it - somehow that seemed appropriate, with such a touchy-seeming letter. It took some time, but eventually he got the flap open with a minimum of damage to the envelope. "Alrighty," he said nervously, "let's see what we've got here." He reached into the envelope gingerly, and just as he thought someone had mailed him an empty envelope, a card seem to insert itself between his fingers. He looked at the card, which was pink and smelt like something Guy hadn't smelt before, or someplace he hadn't been before, but perhaps would have liked to had gone if he had known how to get there. Finding the card to be blank, he turned it over to read "P.S. Take Fifi and George along!". "This is exceedingly odd" said Guy as he placed his fingers once again into the envelope and withdrew another card. This time he withdrew a card which bore the words

Miss Penny
Psychic
122 Grünewald Drive

printed on the front, and the words "You should pay this girl a visit!" handwritten on the back. "What girl?" thought Guy, giving a quizzical look at George, who was snuffling away at the first card, and looked in danger of possibly eating it. Too distracted to notice, Guy peered into the envelope once more, only to be met with a flurry of slips of paper of various sizes and colors. The next minute or so man and dogs danced around in an attempt to catch some of them, only to find that most of them were blank, while others were simply more suggestions that he visit "the girl", worded in various ways, such as "You really should visit this girl" and "This is a girl you should visit!"

"Fine!" yelled Guy. "I'll visit her! Just tell me where she is!" And then felt rather silly, to be yelling at an envelope. Further forays with his fingers into the envelope produced no more papers. "I suppose I need to visit this Penny person," he said with a sigh, and set the envelope down. And there it lay for the next two and half days until finally Guy could no longer could distract himself from it. "Okay then!" he shouted at Fifi. "Let's do it."

122 Grünewald Drive turned out to be a brothel on the outskirts of town. Scratching his head in puzzlement, Guy, nevertheless, rang the doorbell. As he was waiting, he noticed a small placard by the doorbell. By using his magnifying glass he found the words "Follow your instincts". Thinking this might be important, Guy thought about it for a moment, then proceeded around to the back of the house where he discovered a large green couch had been left in the yard, for several years apparently. Next to the couch was an antique side table, on the table sat a doiley, and on the doiley sat a small sign reading "Please Take A Seat!". Guy considered heading home at this point, but he began to feel as if he was now on course that to deviate from was not a choice of his any longer.
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Old 11-08-2005, 01:06 AM   #15
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Once upon a time there was a blue bottle that had been around forever, so long that no one knew where it had come from; attractive enough not to throw away, large enough to have been used for something in the past, although no one remembered what. One day someone picked it up, dusted it off, and seeing the way the bottle shone and sparkled in the sunlight as if it held a million dancing stars, said "This should bring in a few bucks on e-bay!".

So the guy sold this magical and oh so sparkley bottle for a resonable amount of money and brought a poodle called Fifi. He loved Fifi very much except when she piddled in places she shouldn't. One day Fifi had puppies, to everyone's astonishment (including Fifi's). Six of them, to be exact. They were very cute and, completely against poodle nature, were all of the very quiet and non-vibrating/neurotic sort. They were snapped up like chocolate chip cookies by various people, all except one, whose name was George. He was small and grey and had a habit of sniffing everything, come to think of it, that was all that he did. He didnt really need the rest of himself, just a nose on legs would have been fine for him. He once got into big trouble because he sniffed something he shouldn't but that, of course, is another story.

So the guy, Fifi and George were getting along just fine (except for Fifi's occasional misdirected piddling) until one day a strange letter arrived. The letter was tattered and dirty and had obviously come from a country where the personal hygiene of postal workers wasn't up to the high standards we have come to expect in this country. The letter was addressed to Guy Chestnut. "Hey, that's my name!" the guy exclaimed.

The letter, completely against letter nature, seemed to Guiy to be the loud, vibrating, neurotic sort -- not that it was actually loud, except in the unusual colors of paper and ink, nor vibrating except that Guy's nervous fingers couldn't seem to hold it still, nor neurotic. How could an unopened letter be neurotic? Fifi looked askance. George sniffed at the letter, gave a quiet "woof!" of alarm, and backed away, whining slightly with anxiety.

Guy set the letter down and turned away from it, only to find that it was once again in his hands. "Well, then," he said, "the only thing to do is open it, I guess." Sliding his finger under the flap, he worked at it in an attempt to open it without tearing it - somehow that seemed appropriate, with such a touchy-seeming letter. It took some time, but eventually he got the flap open with a minimum of damage to the envelope. "Alrighty," he said nervously, "let's see what we've got here." He reached into the envelope gingerly, and just as he thought someone had mailed him an empty envelope, a card seem to insert itself between his fingers. He looked at the card, which was pink and smelt like something Guy hadn't smelt before, or someplace he hadn't been before, but perhaps would have liked to had gone if he had known how to get there. Finding the card to be blank, he turned it over to read "P.S. Take Fifi and George along!". "This is exceedingly odd" said Guy as he placed his fingers once again into the envelope and withdrew another card. This time he withdrew a card which bore the words

Miss Penny
Psychic
122 Grünewald Drive

printed on the front, and the words "You should pay this girl a visit!" handwritten on the back. "What girl?" thought Guy, giving a quizzical look at George, who was snuffling away at the first card, and looked in danger of possibly eating it. Too distracted to notice, Guy peered into the envelope once more, only to be met with a flurry of slips of paper of various sizes and colors. The next minute or so man and dogs danced around in an attempt to catch some of them, only to find that most of them were blank, while others were simply more suggestions that he visit "the girl", worded in various ways, such as "You really should visit this girl" and "This is a girl you should visit!"

"Fine!" yelled Guy. "I'll visit her! Just tell me where she is!" And then felt rather silly, to be yelling at an envelope. Further forays with his fingers into the envelope produced no more papers. "I suppose I need to visit this Penny person," he said with a sigh, and set the envelope down. And there it lay for the next two and half days until finally Guy could no longer could distract himself from it. "Okay then!" he shouted at Fifi. "Let's do it."

122 Grünewald Drive turned out to be a brothel on the outskirts of town. Scratching his head in puzzlement, Guy, nevertheless, rang the doorbell. As he was waiting, he noticed a small placard by the doorbell. By using his magnifying glass he found the words "Follow your instincts". Thinking this might be important, Guy thought about it for a moment, then proceeded around to the back of the house where he discovered a large green couch had been left in the yard, for several years apparently. Next to the couch was an antique side table, on the table sat a doiley, and on the doiley sat a small sign reading "Please Take A Seat!". Guy considered heading home at this point, but he began to feel as if he was now on course that to deviate from was not a choice of his any longer. Besides, George, who had preceded him, had begun to investigate the doiley from one end of the the couch, making little pleased snorting grunts as he identified whatever various scents he detected, and Fifi, who had preceded George, had made herself quite comfortable in the corner on the other end - Guy knew better than to try to move her once she got settled in. So he gingerly tested the space between them with his rear end, and, finding the couch exceedingly comfortable despite its rather dissipated nature, proceeded to wait.
A few minutes later, a soft giggle bubbled out from
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