Re: Hahaha...it's great to know that some things never change. -- the sanctuary

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Date Posted: 23:21:06 02/03/05 Thu
Author: Doyle
Author Host/IP: WOPR-p-144-134-23-58.prem.tmns.net.au / 144.134.23.58
Subject: Re: Hahaha...it's great to know that some things never change.
In reply to: Swedish Bob 's message, "Hahaha...it's great to know that some things never change." on 02:30:24 02/16/04 Mon

11 p.m.

"Swedish Bob VS The Door"

by Doyle

"Where's Doyle?" Heather asked. "Didn't you bring him back from that insane asylum?" Silver, slumped on one of the couches across from Heather in her living room, indicated with her thumb. "He's outside, with the rest of the garbage." qc smirked. Heather looked at them both in surprise. "What are you talking about?" "We had a little dispute and basically, he ended up in the trash." Silver explained. "Very funny." Heather scowled. "I hardly think you two would leave poor Dennis outside on the cold street." Silver grinned. "He's not on the street...he's in the rubbish bin." "Tell me you're kidding." Heather stared at them to make it clear that this was not a rhetorical statement, but a command. Silver made an apologetic expression with her face, then turned to qc. qc replied with a small shrug. Silver's facial expression suddenly changed and she burst into hysterical laughter. She fell off the couch and collapsed to the floor, giggling. Heather narrowed her eyes. "What is it?" she asked, momentarily confused. qc grinned, raising an eyebrow. "It appears our dear Silver has become...a little deranged." Silver laughed so loud that she almost drowned out the sound of carolers singing in Heather's huge front yard. "What are those stupid carolers doing on my lawn?!" Heather snarled. She grabbed her two cats and ran outside. "I'll kill ya! That's right, kill ya I said!" Heather roared as she went berserk on the carolers, slinging her cats at them and chasing them into the street, dodging a couple of cars, and screaming into the quiet night. "Funny how I ended up being the only one who's mentally sound." qc said to herself with a sigh. "Rah rah." Silver muttered, from the floor. "Marvelous," qc said with a sour expression. "I get to be the one stuck in this house, with its creme coloured carpet and dark green kitchen, with my only company being two dogs, two parrots, a fish, and a crackpot. This place is like a freaking petting zoo. I'm gonna get me some nog." She suddenly stood up and walked over to the dark green kitchen. Silver got up off the floor and joined qc in the kitchen.

qc sat back down and sipped from her beverage. She reached out her hand to pat Silver on the head. Silver shook her head vigorously. All of a sudden, someone was knocking at the front door. qc barely made it five steps toward the door before the knocking came again. She was annoyed by the impatient person knocking repeatedly on the door. She unlocked the door and swung it open to reveal Swedish Bob. "Sweedy!" qc greeted him with an awkward hug. "Welcome to Heather's L.A. place." She invited him in with one arm stretched out. As he entered, qc noticed that he'd brought with him a carton of beer which he slung over his shoulder. "Surprisingly, Heather has *normal* furniture." she informed him. "There's three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a menagerie of animals in here...oh, and Silver too." SB smiled and made a little wave at Silver who managed a distracted grunt. "Silver?" SB asked absently. He set the carton of beer on the floor to regard Silver with renewed curiosity. "Hello?" "Don't bother, SB. She's been acting freakish lately." qc explained. SB shrugged back at qc. "Where's Heather?" he asked. "I've got to thank her for inviting me over to her swank pad." qc arched an eyebrow at him. "Heather stepped out for a wee while. She had to go assault some carolers." "Oh my." SB exclaimed. "Anywho, if you're also wondering where Doyle is, he's wasted." "Oh no." SB said with an air of disappointment, "He didn't get shitfaced already did he? What am I going to do with all this beer that I brought, now?" qc sighed. "No, what I meant was, Doyle is *in* the waste. Outside." "I don't get it." SB said, as he helped himself to some eggnog. qc lowered her head and closed her eyes a moment, one hand going to the side of her head and rubbing her temple. "Just...just...just..." "qc, are you alright?" SB asked, with a look of concern on his face. Eyes still closed, qc shook her head. Suddenly, qc went limp and collapsed into SB's arms. "qc!" he cried. Holding her tightly, he carried her over to a couch and eased her onto it. Silver raced over and crouched beside qc, trying to lend support. SB gestured toward the front door. "We should take her to a hospital." Silver stared at him, then spread her hands. "You're a man-nurse, you can fix her right here." He looked at her, perplexed. "No I'm not. That's just a myth made popular by Doyle. I don't even know where he got that idea from to begin with." Silver stood, then began pacing back and forth. "I...I don't believe you." she muttered, spinning on her heel to march a few steps toward the front door. Then she went outside. "Hey!" SB called after her, before hearing her scream. He ran towards the door, tripping and falling over a coffee table on the way. He eventually made it outside. Eyes wide and unblinking, Silver stared at SB in abject horror. She cocked her head toward the garbage can that was near Heather's porch. It had been knocked over and all the rubbish from inside it was littering Heather's huge front yard. "He's...he's escaped!" Silver stammered.

The wind whipped their hair and whistled over the long steep driveway. Silver swallowed hard, then looked back inside the house at where qc had lay. She had vanished. "Where is she? What...what happened?" Silver murmured, looking past SB to take in the view of the empty couch. SB turned around to look. "He must have taken her when we let our guard down for that *split* second." Silver surmised. "This is ridiculous." SB announced. "qc's missing, you're slightly mad, Doyle has apparently escaped from a garbage can which you stuck him in and Heather's off chasing after carolers!" Silver gave a simple dignified nod and walked back inside, leaving SB on the porch. The flummoxed Swedish Bob hollered out, "I'll be in the car!" His plan was to leave the barking mad Silver at Heather's place and go in search of qc. Only...there was no car. "Heather must have eaten it." he thought to himself. He took a deep breath and looked down the length of Los Angeles street, weighing whether to head right or left. "Bugger this." he thought, and headed back inside. SB's mouth fell open in surprise. "What the heck?" The door was locked. He rattled the doornob, then rapped his knuckles against the wood. "Hey!" SB protested at the door. "Let me in!" It didn't oblige. He yelled out to Silver but she didn't answer. "You're goin' down, door." SB proclaimed, as he backed up a little then charged straight at it. He quickly regretted doing that once his shoulder went numb. Gritting his teeth, SB tried kicking it instead, but to no avail. He could see his own breath fogging in front of himself and frost was accumulating on his clothes. Shuddering in the cold, SB cried out desperately to be let inside. "It's fricken freezing out here!" he shouted. "Let me in, before I freeze to death!" The insolent door did not obey his command. "What is this? Northern Alaska? I'm cold!" SB complained. "And hungry." he added quietly, looking down at the ground. "Damnit, SB wants some PIE!" Swedish Bob hadn't actually *seen* any pie in Heather's kitchen, he just figured she must have some. All of a sudden, an idea popped into his head. He picked up a garden gnome off Heather's lawn and flung it as hard as he could through a window. Inside the house, Silver narrowly avoided the projectile gnome.

Elsewhere, Heather was navigating the streets of L.A. She was genuinely appalled that those foolish carolers had dared to step on her lawn. Once she'd made her point, Heather had started heading back home. She glimpsed something moving in a dark alley across the street, but thought nothing of it. She then heard a crunch of glass beneath a shoe and froze. Heather took a single step forward then spun around to confront whoever was following her. There was only darkness. Two beams of light suddenly tore through the darkness, shredding the shadows. "A car's headlights." She sighed with relief. But wait, no, they weren't headlights afterall. They were eyes. Two predatory eyes that belonged to...something. Heather looked for opened doors, low-hanging fire escape ladders, any possible means of escape. But there was nothing. She turned and was in motion, flying across the street in front of an oncoming car. Its brakes screeched and the horn honk-shoe-honked, as she darted into an old-looking bookstore. The bell rang overhead. It seemed odd that a bookshop would be opened so late, but Heather was grateful that it was. She glanced around appreciatively. The store was jammed tight with floor-to-ceiling shelves of books. As usual, with old books, they gave off a musty odour which made Heather decide to breath through her mouth. The store seemed empty. She began to wander deeper into the store, meandering into a gloomily lit rear aisle. Someone's arm abruptly shot from the shadows through a gap in the shelves. It snatched at her shirt but she managed to pull away from its grip. She stumbled away from whatever lurked in among the books, as it chuckled away. The sound was muffled, as though it had been absorbed by the books. There came a strangled voice, from seemingly above. Heather looked up anxiously. She did not like the sound of that voice. Her eyes darted around in search of some kind of a weapon. Her heart raced as she heard a low growl. "Did whatever was stalking me outside follow me in here?" she asked herself silently. "I didn't hear the doorbell ring a second time, which probably means..." Her train of thought was interrupted by the sound of the wooden floor trembling under massive hooves as the thing snorted. Heather clasped her hands to her ears in an effort to obstruct the horrid noise. "Oh God," she thought. "It was here first." The monstrosity snorted again, this time its fingers slipping around Heather's throat.

Meanwhile, back at Heather's house, SB was doing cartwheels across the floor as Silver gave him a quizzical look. "Give it a rest, would ya?" she scowled. SB paused in mid-handstand, which earned him a raised eyebrow from Silver. He stared hard at the ceiling. Silver followed his gaze and peered upwards straight above. On the ceiling was stuck a big wheel of cheese. Their gazes slowly shifted back to eachother as both their bottom jaws hung open in disbelief. It seemed impossible that such a huge thing could just be hanging there, considering what it must have weighed. In unison, Silver and SB lept out from underneath the looming shadow of the big wheel o' cheese. They both eyeballed it in expectation that it would plummet at any given moment. Alas, it did not. "It can't be," Silver said, her eyes wide with horror. "It's not possible." "I'm afraid it is," SB replied. "It appears that our dear Heather has created some kind of doomsday device in the guise of a big wheel o' cheese." SB nodded as he said this, with his hands on his hips and a scowl on his face. Silver was speechlees. She gawked at SB for a moment, then a smile spread across her face as she realised SB was, infact, just kidding. SB shook his head at her. "Poor gullible Silver." She crossed her arms defensively. "Oh, no," she said with a forced giggle. "I totally knew you were kidding." Silver glanced sideways at SB who wagged a finger at her. "Nuh-uh, no you didn't. You thought I was serious." he delcared, with a smirk on his face. "No!" she protested, with a hint of guilt in her voice. "Please! As IF I would have thought you were serious. I'm slightly insane, not stupid." SB held up both hands, palms faced outward, to shield himself from whatever onslaught Silver may have dished out. She lifted her head to look up at the big wheel o' cheese. "What's it up there for?" she asked. "It's stuck up there so that no one but Heatherosa can reach it, I believe." SB said, examining it from beneath. It clung to the roof via some means that eluded his comprehension. Silver looked from her watch to the big wheel o' cheese impatiently, awaiting its dramatic descent. "What's the freakin' hold-up?!"

A frown creased Beautyone's forehead as she looked around. It wasn't the worst neighbourhood, but it was quiet, and she thought it might be best to make haste. She was anxious to find every pool of light from the street lamps above and shunned the shadows from the apartment buildings that loomed up ahead. B wasn't *too* worried, however. Since she had at her disposal two life-size, very real, very *sharp* sais (which had been accessories to an Elektra action figure), B felt pretty reassured. She had only just left the mall and was now on her way back to Heather's place. A woman's scream shattered the night. B's head snapped around in the direction of the cry and she was sure that it had come from an old shop which she'd just passed by. The piercing scream came again, but this time Beautyone bolted towards the source of the outcry. She firmly gripped a sai in each hand and burst into the old bookstore, ready to do battle. Back at Heather's place, SB suddenly remembered something. "Oh my god!" he gasped. "It's not 3AM yet, Sweedy." Silver casually told him, while all the time keeping her eyes fixed on the big wheel o' cheese. "Where'd qc go?" he demanded. Silver managed to peel away her gaze, from the big wheel o' cheese, to regard him for a moment. "I told you, I said Doyle took her. And you're like, "Pooh-pooh, this is ridiculous, pooh-pooh!"." SB gave Silver a blank look, before probing her for information. "Fine. Then where would he have taken her?" "I dunno. Basement?" she replied with a shrug. "This doesn't make any sense. Why would Doyle kidnap qc?" "He's gone a little demented of late. I mean, more than usual." "And that has nothing to do with you locking him in a garbage can." SB's accusing eyes locked with Silver's. "I wasn't the one who did it." she said defensively. "Yeah, well." SB didn't finish. Instead, he walked over to Heather's kitchen and took a flashlight from the pantry. "Let's go." He headed for the basement. "Hey! Wait up!" Silver called after him, as she ran to catch up. SB had already started down the stairwell. "Not funny." Silver said grumpily. "And by the way, how on earth did you know Heather kept a flashlight in her pantry?" "That's where I keep mine." he answered, as they both walked down the steps. There came a faint clip-clopping sound from down at the bottom of the stairwell. As they stepped off the last of the stairs, SB pointed. "Look." Silver followed his direction and watched, as a horse clomped towards them. Silver was taken aback, while SB calmly walked up next to the animal and gave its snout a rub. Silver blinked at him. "Why does Heather keep a horse in her basement?" she asked. "I have a theory." SB announced. "Heather likes horses." Silver took a step back. She gazed at him with the weirdest look on her face and said, "This is as far as I go. I'm heading back upstairs." And with that, she left SB alone. The horse snoreted.

On the dance floor, at some club called 'Key Club', Drusilla was shakin' her thang to the thumping music. At least *some* people classified it as "music". As far as Dru was concerned, it was just something loud and sexy which she could dance to. She was wearing tight black leather pants, a shirt of some description, and (for some reason) a *bad* short blue wig. Any time some guy got too close for comfort, she'd just shove him away and continue dancing. She totally owned the dance floor and thus demanded the attention of everyone. Dru loved it. She soaked it up like some sort of absorbent thing. Then some jerk tossed an unopened bottle of beer straight at her head. Quick as a cat, Dru spun around and snatched it from the air. Twisting the bottle cap off with her teeth earned Dru a few appreciative looks, she then spat it out in the direction of her assailant. She took a swig from the beer then left the floor (which was met with a few disappointed groans from her "audience"). "Wow, that was *some* rush." she thought to herself, while sauntering toward the exit. Dru picked up her jacket, from the chair it had been slung over when she arrived, and stomped outside. To her surprise, it was windy and rainy and cold outside. The storm must have sprung up out of nowhere. Despite the weather, Dru threw her jacket over her head and trudged into an alley. "Why'd I go into an alley?" she was soon asking herself. She moved through the alley, peering through the rain, when all of a sudden there came the pitter-patter of footsteps. Dru was unsure whether they were coming from behind her or up ahead. It soon became clear that the footsteps were actually coming from up above, on a rooftop. She threw back her head, the rain trickled off the jacket (which she was using as a hood) down in front of her face which made it difficult to see clearly. Squinting didn't help at all. Dru whirled around on her heel, as if she were still dancing, and ran in the direction whence she came. Well, it was more like half running/half slipping and sliding on the wet muddy ground. Once her boots got some traction, Dru was flying toward the club's exit door. Then the door opened and whacked her in the face. There was a pause, for a moment Dru was swaying like a corn stalk (with a comical expression on her face) before she careened backward onto the ground.

When she awoke, Drusilla found herself staring up into the face of...Bracken. Brack bent down to look at Dru, then grabbed her arm, hoisting her to her feet. Once back inside, Bracken led the way, dragging Drusilla behind her. As they weaved their way through the club, Dru glared at every guy who stared at her. Her makeup was streaked from the rain and her nose was bleeding. They strode down the street in front of the club to where Bracken had left her car. "Hold on." Bracken told Drusilla while she opened the passenger door. Dru just stood there, sopping wet and bleeding. Bracken pushed Dru into the car and she dropped onto the seat. Brack then walked around to the other side of the car. She slipped in behind the wheel, started the engine and pulled out into the light traffic. "My nose hurts. I'm cold." Dru complained as she shuffled around in her seat. "Can I have a tissue?" she pleaded. "Or maybe five? There's quite a lot of blood." "No." Bracken replied. Drusilla made a face. Then she winced in pain because of it. "Why?" Dru sniffed. Brack reached behind her seat, eyes on the road the *whole* time, and grabbed a foul-looking rag which she tossed onto Dru's lap. "Here, you can have this snot rag." Dru looked down at the revolting piece of cloth and then used it to soak up her nose blood. She tried to breathe as little as possible, and through her mouth. Then she glanced around, realising that she did not recognise the neighbourhood they were in. "Where are we?" she asked. The car raced down the street and onto the curb, straight toward an old-looking shop. Inside the bookshop, Heather and Beautyone had just enough time to scatter, in the wake of the car barreling towards them. It smashed through the wall of the bookstore, and into Goatman, sending him flying out the window across the store. Beautyone hopped back onto her feet and ran toward the car, sai in hand. She wasn't too happy about being nearly run over, apparently. Brack opened the door, to step out of the car, and Beautyone ran smack into it. Bracken stopped, looked down at B with a distressed expression, shrugged, then went after Goatman with Beautyone's sai. She soon returned, stomping through the car-shaped hole which she'd created, and was obviously agitated. "What is it?" Heather asked. "I lost the sai." Brack grumbled. She then apologised to Beautyone for losing it. "And I'm sorry I hit you with the door of SB's car." "This is SB's car?" Heather asked her. "You know, this car looks a lot like the one that almost ran me over, earlier tonight." Bracken looked up at Heather sheepishly. "That was YOU?!" At that point, Drusilla stumbled out of the car. "You alright?" Bracken asked. "Oh, just peachy." Dru replied, her voice slightly nasal.

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