We were starting to run out of excuses everytime Phaedra came by with a golf ball and a broken window so we decided to take up Tennis. What could possibly go wrong?
Tennis Anyone
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We were starting to run out of excuses everytime Phaedra came by with a golf ball and a broken window so we decided to take up Tennis. What could possibly go wrong?
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This should be fine, as long as one remembers not to chase the ball too insistently as it goes out of bounds…
Wait – what? We’re supposed to chase the ball?
Mr. Lighthouse, we might be playing this game all wrong.
It is worse than that – I was batting a few against the chimney for practice and one went right down. If you happen to be talking to Book before I am could you, er, mention we have an urchin problem and one of them must have pulled a prank. Tell her we need the ball back so I can dust for fingerprints.
Oh ya! Blame the urchin why don’t you! Sometimes I wonder who are the real grown-ups around here…
You were the twerps that stole our liquor and nearly bankrupted us! Yeah, I’d call that an urchin problem.
I’ll get him some tennis balls! A whole box of ’em rolled around in Wiggyfish oil! We can toss ’em in that kitchen window to the left of his back door. He never locks that window. Don’t ask me how I know.
Sorry, it’s no no condition to be returned.
*opens the windows to try to get the smell of burning tennis ball out of the house*
Dear Em –
I happened to be looking out a back window when I noticed a bit of smoke escaping from Book’s house. There are no urchins about so I’m sending this note with Vagus because he knows how to get to the Gangplank; can you please alert the fire brigade?
Yours,
– J
P.S. – We’re out of milk. XO
I’m on the fire brigade.
“You are the fire brigade!”
((*grin*))
“Here comes your monkey,” said Bert, using his thumb to point to the little bespectacled spider monkey that just ran into the bar. “He looks a might excited too.”
Emerson glanced up from his daily crossword. “He probably just wants a drink. Pull him an Ironess, that ought to quiet him down.”
Vagus hopped up on the bar and started jumping up and down. Emerson glanced at him. “Not now Vagus, can’t you see I am working,” he said, before looking back at the paper. “I need a seven letter word, starts with ‘IN’— may end in ‘O’ if I got ‘BOOKS’ right for ‘burns at 451.’
“What’s the clue?” asked Bert.
“The clue is: ‘Towering—’
“Infuser—though it doesn’t end in ‘O'” said Bert, passing a pint to Vagus. “My father had a towering steam-infuser back in—”
“Look, Vagus has a piece of paper,” said Emerson, reaching to grab it.
“That could be important,” mused Bert.
“Darn right,” said Emerson, taking the note from Vagus and tuning it to the blank side where he could write out the word ‘infuser’ before playing around with the letters. “One can never have enough scrap paper; it helps me visualize.”
Bookworm stirs at the sound of shuffling and a strange, rhythmic thwoking coming from above. ‘Those rats are noisier than ever,’ she thought aggrievedly, turning over in her bed. ‘I should see if Lisa can convince her friends to hunt around here more often.’
Thank the dark lord I moved. The golf balls were bad enough.
Hey Tobias, at least he doesn’t have us fetching his stupid balls from the canals.