Space Marine and Dragonwrangler Bar & Grill
- Thread starter ChaosTitan
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I just finished a book from your publisher last night, and it was fab.Will be posting a review soon. Probably a short one due to the insanity that is my month, but it was a fun read. Chip chop chip on the next one!
*goes back to writing WIP.*
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Dong instruments!
But why do I have to get tuba'ed? .pouts.
Well, it's better than inventing a whole new meaning for 'piccolo'.
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- Joined
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Best.
Post.
Evar.
Wow, BW and I are straight-up action heroes!
Ooooh.
Boring, eh?
Fantastic stuff!
Yes.
Most definitely.
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As the Cantina Turns - Smibble-manay
“Gais! Gais, I have the tea,” Ali gave the anti-grav sled a small nudge and fifty-seven cups of tea and the world's largest plate of biscuits moved forward. On the big screen the words,
“A long time ago in a galaxy, far, far away,...”
rolled into view as the third film of the evening started.
“Gais?” Ali looked around. A piece of tumbleweed rolled past, attached to it was a piece of paper reading 'there's no one here'. Ali folded her arms and demanded,
“Computer, lights.”
There was no reply.
“Honestly, what is the point of automation if you have to do your own lights?” she asked the empty room as she flipped the lights on and the film off.
“I guess you all found something more captivating to do then, huh?” She grabbed her coat and the ticket for Angel's musical and made her way out.
**
Down in romance, Ali found herself seated right at the front of the audience next to a smart lady dressed in what appeared to be a kilt who introduced herself as McAllister.
“Rings a bell,” thought Ali as she settled down to watch the show with a drink provided by a passing Cupid.
The lights dimmed and the curtain opened. Ali gasped. Arranged around the entire set, along with a few people she didn't recognise, were all the cantinas. She noticed that Cobra, BW and Eye were all dressed in uniforms and sitting apart from everyone else.
“Excuse me,” said McAllister leaning over,”Isn't that Mr Words from your cantina?”
“Yes, yes, it is,” agreed Ali, taking a sip of bad champagne.
“So nice to see inter-forum cooperation and a blurring of genres I think. I must congratulate you all on this,” McAllister sat back in the chair.
“It's not what it seems,” said Ali.
“No really?” asked McAllister, “I understood that some cantina people had been helping out for several weeks. Now, why are you crying?”
“They're prisoners,” Ali whispered.
“They're what?” McAllister's look of shock turned to fury as Ali told the whole story. She was so upset she was forced to use a second handkerchief. As she came to a stop McAllister stood up.
“STOP!” The voice penetrated over everything and echoed from the walls. Cupids fell to the floor as the sound resonated around the room, their hands over their ears. McAllister strode forward into the near spotlight as the curtain came down. Ali leaned over and whispered,
“Why are you talking like that?”
“It's for dramatic emphasis”, said McAllister turning back to the stage,
“WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS PRODUCTION?”
“I am, and you have just ruined the crowning glory of my year's entertainment,” Ms Boon had walked on stage right.
“YOU WILL CEASE THIS PANTOMIME AT ONCE,” demanded McAllister.
“It's a musical, and I will not cease,” she sneered.
“I AM THE MCALLISTER. YOU WILL DO AS I SAY. YOU WILL CEASE THIS TORTURE, AND THIS APPALLING SINGING. YOU WILL SET THE PRISONERS FREE AND RETURN THEM TO THEIR OWN FORUM. THE ENCHANTMENT ON THE CUPIDS WILL BE LIFTED AND THEY WILL BE ALLOWED TO LIVE FREE-RANGE IN THE FORUM FROM NOW ON.”
“But, but, I was just trying to bring a little romance to people's lives,” Ms Boon pleaded.
“ROMANCE IS SOMETHING PEOPLE MUST MAKE FOR THEMSELVES. YOU CANNOT FORCE IT ON PEOPLE. NOW BRING THE PRISONERS TO ME.”
Ms Boon disappeared behind the curtain, for a few moments they heard her banging and crashing around on the set, then there was a wail and the stage curtains lifted. Ms Boon walked out onto the stage crying.
“THE PRISONERS?” Asked McAllister.
“They're not all here,” she replied.
“YOU CANNOT HIDE THEM,” said McAllister, “BRING THEM OUT NOW.”
“I told you, they're not all here. There's just these people,” Ms Boon looked around at the eight people who had come in from Script, Stage and Screen.
Ali got up onto the stage, she and McAllister looked around. After a few minutes they agreed that there were no cantinas anywhere. McAllister turned repeatedly to Ms Boon who denied again and again that she had hidden anyone. Elsewhere in the forum people had begun to lose interest in what was happening and the Cupids had begun to buzz around and get in the way as they delivered drinks and love messages.
On it's way back from a particularly large drinks delivery a Cupid with a tray flew too close to Ali's head and she swatted it away with a particularly good shot. Losing all sense of flight control the Cupid went careening into the poster of Orwell on the back wall hitting it head on. There was a tearing sound and then the Cupid disappeared.
“But that's a solid wall. Where did it go?” asked Ali.
McAllister walked over and ripped the picture down. A hole fitting just inside the edges of the picture led away into the wall.
“HOW?” asked McAllister.
“Smibble bites,” said Ali.
"WHAT?"
Ali held up an arm with a perfect set of smibble bites clearly visible.
“Never get between a smibble and it's alcohol,” she said, " The smibbles must have eaten the wall away."
“WHERE DOES IT LEAD?”.
Ali stepped in, returning a few minutes later with a large grin on her face.
“It looks like Angel had a grand plan. The tunnel leads directly to the stream that feeds the cantina moat. There's no sign of anyone. They've got away clean,” said Ali.
Ms Boon slumped to the floor of the stage and began to cry as McAllister freed the Script, Stage and Screen people and declared the cupids free of enchantment.
Just then a slightly drunken member of the audience stepped forward and asked,
“What about the big finale then?”
Ali looked around at the onstage wreckage, shrugged her shoulders, and said,
“That's all folks.”
“Gais! Gais, I have the tea,” Ali gave the anti-grav sled a small nudge and fifty-seven cups of tea and the world's largest plate of biscuits moved forward. On the big screen the words,
“A long time ago in a galaxy, far, far away,...”
rolled into view as the third film of the evening started.
“Gais?” Ali looked around. A piece of tumbleweed rolled past, attached to it was a piece of paper reading 'there's no one here'. Ali folded her arms and demanded,
“Computer, lights.”
There was no reply.
“Honestly, what is the point of automation if you have to do your own lights?” she asked the empty room as she flipped the lights on and the film off.
“I guess you all found something more captivating to do then, huh?” She grabbed her coat and the ticket for Angel's musical and made her way out.
**
Down in romance, Ali found herself seated right at the front of the audience next to a smart lady dressed in what appeared to be a kilt who introduced herself as McAllister.
“Rings a bell,” thought Ali as she settled down to watch the show with a drink provided by a passing Cupid.
The lights dimmed and the curtain opened. Ali gasped. Arranged around the entire set, along with a few people she didn't recognise, were all the cantinas. She noticed that Cobra, BW and Eye were all dressed in uniforms and sitting apart from everyone else.
“Excuse me,” said McAllister leaning over,”Isn't that Mr Words from your cantina?”
“Yes, yes, it is,” agreed Ali, taking a sip of bad champagne.
“So nice to see inter-forum cooperation and a blurring of genres I think. I must congratulate you all on this,” McAllister sat back in the chair.
“It's not what it seems,” said Ali.
“No really?” asked McAllister, “I understood that some cantina people had been helping out for several weeks. Now, why are you crying?”
“They're prisoners,” Ali whispered.
“They're what?” McAllister's look of shock turned to fury as Ali told the whole story. She was so upset she was forced to use a second handkerchief. As she came to a stop McAllister stood up.
“STOP!” The voice penetrated over everything and echoed from the walls. Cupids fell to the floor as the sound resonated around the room, their hands over their ears. McAllister strode forward into the near spotlight as the curtain came down. Ali leaned over and whispered,
“Why are you talking like that?”
“It's for dramatic emphasis”, said McAllister turning back to the stage,
“WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS PRODUCTION?”
“I am, and you have just ruined the crowning glory of my year's entertainment,” Ms Boon had walked on stage right.
“YOU WILL CEASE THIS PANTOMIME AT ONCE,” demanded McAllister.
“It's a musical, and I will not cease,” she sneered.
“I AM THE MCALLISTER. YOU WILL DO AS I SAY. YOU WILL CEASE THIS TORTURE, AND THIS APPALLING SINGING. YOU WILL SET THE PRISONERS FREE AND RETURN THEM TO THEIR OWN FORUM. THE ENCHANTMENT ON THE CUPIDS WILL BE LIFTED AND THEY WILL BE ALLOWED TO LIVE FREE-RANGE IN THE FORUM FROM NOW ON.”
“But, but, I was just trying to bring a little romance to people's lives,” Ms Boon pleaded.
“ROMANCE IS SOMETHING PEOPLE MUST MAKE FOR THEMSELVES. YOU CANNOT FORCE IT ON PEOPLE. NOW BRING THE PRISONERS TO ME.”
Ms Boon disappeared behind the curtain, for a few moments they heard her banging and crashing around on the set, then there was a wail and the stage curtains lifted. Ms Boon walked out onto the stage crying.
“THE PRISONERS?” Asked McAllister.
“They're not all here,” she replied.
“YOU CANNOT HIDE THEM,” said McAllister, “BRING THEM OUT NOW.”
“I told you, they're not all here. There's just these people,” Ms Boon looked around at the eight people who had come in from Script, Stage and Screen.
Ali got up onto the stage, she and McAllister looked around. After a few minutes they agreed that there were no cantinas anywhere. McAllister turned repeatedly to Ms Boon who denied again and again that she had hidden anyone. Elsewhere in the forum people had begun to lose interest in what was happening and the Cupids had begun to buzz around and get in the way as they delivered drinks and love messages.
On it's way back from a particularly large drinks delivery a Cupid with a tray flew too close to Ali's head and she swatted it away with a particularly good shot. Losing all sense of flight control the Cupid went careening into the poster of Orwell on the back wall hitting it head on. There was a tearing sound and then the Cupid disappeared.
“But that's a solid wall. Where did it go?” asked Ali.
McAllister walked over and ripped the picture down. A hole fitting just inside the edges of the picture led away into the wall.
“HOW?” asked McAllister.
“Smibble bites,” said Ali.
"WHAT?"
Ali held up an arm with a perfect set of smibble bites clearly visible.
“Never get between a smibble and it's alcohol,” she said, " The smibbles must have eaten the wall away."
“WHERE DOES IT LEAD?”.
Ali stepped in, returning a few minutes later with a large grin on her face.
“It looks like Angel had a grand plan. The tunnel leads directly to the stream that feeds the cantina moat. There's no sign of anyone. They've got away clean,” said Ali.
Ms Boon slumped to the floor of the stage and began to cry as McAllister freed the Script, Stage and Screen people and declared the cupids free of enchantment.
Just then a slightly drunken member of the audience stepped forward and asked,
“What about the big finale then?”
Ali looked around at the onstage wreckage, shrugged her shoulders, and said,
“That's all folks.”
Last edited:
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Happy New Year, guys. Hope it'll be all you want and more
Already is.
Happy 2013 to you, 10s!
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Fourteen minutes here. I am too tired to stay awake much longer.
I am very surprised at how few fireworks I am hearing to be honest. Normally they are well underway by now. I've only heard one or two.
Have a good celebrate people.
Please don't ask me to write anything tomorrow 
I am very surprised at how few fireworks I am hearing to be honest. Normally they are well underway by now. I've only heard one or two.
Have a good celebrate people.
Please don't ask me to write anything tomorrow
Happy soon-to-be New Year everyone
:O NEW ATCT! My 2012 is made! Ali, you're the beeeeest.
I lost it. I am sitting in a Tim Ho's sipping hot chocolate and I started laughing and got weird looks from people.
Four hours to go here in Hali-facts. I live a three minute walk away from a high view of the harbour so I think I might step out in my slippers to watch the fireworks without waking the neighbours.
:O NEW ATCT! My 2012 is made! Ali, you're the beeeeest.
I lost it. I am sitting in a Tim Ho's sipping hot chocolate and I started laughing and got weird looks from people.
Four hours to go here in Hali-facts. I live a three minute walk away from a high view of the harbour so I think I might step out in my slippers to watch the fireworks without waking the neighbours.
<typo fascism>I don't remember any mention of her staring.</typo fascism>
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Yay for AtCT! Well done, Ali
Oops! While I was reading, it went over to midnight! Happy new year, everyone! *hugs all round and smooches to those that wants them*
Fourteen minutes here. I am too tired to stay awake much longer.
I am very surprised at how few fireworks I am hearing to be honest. Normally they are well underway by now. I've only heard one or two.
Have a good celebrate people.
Please don't ask me to write anything tomorrow
Oops! While I was reading, it went over to midnight! Happy new year, everyone!
*hugs all round and smooches to those that wants them*
s to you too, Ande I feel like I accomplished diddly squat this year. My goal for 2013 is to actually have some kind of beneficial impact on the world, or at the very least my snowy little corner of it. I feel like I'm gonna wish I'd picked something more concrete, but how the hell do you define a person's usefulness?
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Kurt Weill and Bertolt Brecht FTW.
Awesomeness undiluted.
I've always been an action hero.
*struts around Cantina with Chest puffed out*
Oh, and I see to have missed the celebrations. Happy new year regardless.
I've always been an action hero.
*struts around Cantina with Chest puffed out*
If you even THINK "Braveheart," I may be forced to hurt you.
.... stupid, overrated, historically inaccurate bullshit soap opera in woad and kilts......
<wanders away grumbling>
Bertolt Brecht! Helllll yeah. The university theatre folks here did Mother Courage and Her Children one year. I cried.
I've always been an action hero.
The Bearded Ninja strikes again!
I just pulled up a world clock and it's like, 4pm in Alaska, so yep. WRT Cantina time zones I think Hillz and I bookend North America.
I was thinking Highlander: The Series, actually.
I normally have to explain my fanboy reaction to the CDs.
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