I paused in the hallway of the Folly, outside my door. Mrs. McGregor's doberman was standing outside her door down the hallway, looking like he was trying to cough something out. Bob the Vampire appeared at my shoulder (he does that).
"Dogs don't get hairballs, do they?"
"Well, not shorthairs like Dobies--oh, euw!"
Several little sausage things hit the carpet.
"That's what happens when you wolf your food, Fluffy," I told the dog. "Heh, wolf the food."
Bob looked at the sausages. "If that's Fluffy's food, we're going to have to have several words with Mrs. McGregor."
"What do you mean?"
"Those are somebody's fingers, and they're fresh."
We looked at the door to Mrs. McGregor's apartment. It was partly open.
Bob grinned. "Can I? Just to check, you know, being neighborly and all that."
"Sure. Don't wolf your food."
"You're working that pun to death, you know."
I ride down to one of the piers near the Central Trade Zone, just across the passage from the island of Hy-Brasil, and stash the bike. There's a pretty good crowd watching the goings on. I see Capt. Charpe, the head of the City Watch, near the end of the pier, so I thread my way through the crowd towards him. I can see the carrier now. I pull out the binoculars. It's aground, all right. The bow is completely out of the water. I look further back, and can make out the number "60" on the carrier's island. "The Saratoga? I thought she was in mothballs."
Charpe sees me and calls me over. As I get within earshot, I point at the little tugboat moving towards the beached monster and say, "You're gonna need a bigger boat."
"Very funny. Bloody lovely day, eh?" His Orcshire accent is especially strong when he's sarcastic.
"Why? What else has happened?"
"What hasn't? The hospitals are full. We've had a bunch of involuntary organ donors, dogs snackin' on burglars' fingers, people breakin' ankles from trippin' over penguins in the street, and a couple of guys claimin' that their burnt, broken noses were caused by bein' hit by flamin' flyin' gerbils, whatever they are."
"They're like hamsters." He gives me a blank look. "Big mice. People keep 'em as pets. They don't fly, though, as a rule, and you don't usually see them on fire, either."
He rolled his eyes. "You soddin' humans continue to amaze me. Flamin' vermin, then, although Grife knows how they came to be on fire and movin' fast enough to break bones. The victims were a little reticent about that bit. And then there's the person or persons unknown runnin' 'round town fillin' up luxury automobiles with concrete. We haven't had the time or the manpower to track them down yet."
"You know, this all seems familiar, like fairy tales come to life. Except not."
"That's not very helpful. Although I do need to thank you for sendin' over that 'general' lummox. He has been very helpful to the situation."
That was surprising. I had to ask, "How so? You didn't use him for a practice dummy, did you?"
"No. Chopper wanted to, but then all this came up and we found a better use for his talents."
"What talents?"
Charpe displayed a mouthful of pointy teeth as he grinned. "He's good at screamin' and flailin' his arms about. Chopper's usin' him to troll for some giant alligators that have, by uncanny coincidence, shown up in the sewers this very day. Ties him to the end of a long rope, drops him down a manhole, and then Chopper and the squad wait for a gator to show up. All the screamin' and flailin' does a terrific job of attractin' the things."
"Nice to see he can be of use. Anything else?"
"Well, there's been some good things, too. There was a man sellin' a terrific steak and kidney pie just up the way. Haven't had kidneys like that in years, not since the massacre at..."
He started, then thought for a second. "Well that's one mystery solved. Corporal Harrass!"
"Sir!"
"Find the pie vendor, and take him in for questionin'. I think is name is 'Dobler.' Somethin' like that. And bring all the pies, er, evidence to my office."
"Eh, hello?"
"What is the nature of your emergency, please?"
"Train derailment."
"I'm sorry, what? Where are you?"
"Train derailment. Somebody put a penny on the tracks. I'm sorry, I gotta get off the phone! I just realized it's time to gas up my 200mpg car!"
is it just me or is the link under "History" broken?
[No, it's broken. That's a John H. link from days of yore. I dunno if anybody has history docs still. Do we? I edited the link out. If we have some docs, I'll stick it back under there.]
I miss the map
Yes, and hte award for Looking Stupid In Public goes to . . . Me! I could have sworn it wasn't there the last time I looked for it.
[The history was all originally in...Natter I think. So we just have to find the right archived Natter thread. DXM?]
[Not in Natter. It was in Buffy Backstory over at WX. I actually did go into the archives about a year ago, and recreated the history file, but then I saw something shiny and forgot all about it. I'll try to put it up today. If I can find the frelling archives ftp password...]
[Okay, it's up. [link] I also put the link back into the header.]
