Add a piece (Never ending story)

[sc9108]

Thought it'd be fun, And funny to see what the next person puts :),

Add a section to the story then next person carries it on etc,
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They all looked in disbelief as a,

[just mercedes]

They all looked in disbelief as a,

flaming giraffe galloped past melting clocks

[stratocaster86]

but the giraffe was somewhat inclined to make a pass at a clock so it..

[SolidSnakeEyes]

took a crap in a sauce pan and sold it to...

[Bakiryu]

a random guy in Norway through that lovely website known as EBAY..

[sc9108]

The Norwegian man looked in glee as the UPS truck crashed through his living room, the driver of the truck looked and said ''heres you pot of,,

[slightlyajar]

..."flaming giraffe poo you order. Sorry I opened it but the small was horribly unbearable. What do you want with giraffe poo anyhow?'

[prendrelemick]

Lars har

[prendrelemick]

Lars hardly heard the question. It was as if his entire self had been drawn into the infinite blue of the driver's eyes, that were shining out from under the peak of her UPS hat.

"I..I.." He stammered. (His pyro-scatological interests meant that he didn't meet many girls.)

She smiled, it was like the sun coming out.

"I'm sorry I wrecked your house," she giggled. "I'm always doing that."

Although Lars heard the words their meaning were lost to him, they were a vibration that resonated in perfect harmony with his soul, it was as if he had been freed from the surly bonds of earth and stool samples, and was soaring free, up, up, into the realms of the creator, where he was washed and purified in the music of the spheres.

"Thats ok," he blurted, "do you fancy a...

[prendrelemick]

Seeing as I'm at home with man-flu I'll carry on.

"A coffee?" Helga anticipated, "yes please."

"Err no, no, not coffee," said Lars.

"Tea then"

"No not tea"

"Dried herring?"

"No"

"Cheesy toast?"

"No"

"Smoked sausage"

"Close...but no"

Had they been less involved in their verbal sparring, one of them may have heard the slight scuffleing sound that came from the back of the van. They may have gone and investigated, and seen the horror that was emergeing from the split packing case marked HANDLE WITH CARE.

"A microwave?"

"No"

"A trip to the Fiords?"

"No."

A green scaly arm reached through the rent in the packing case and tore off the lid. Eyes, small and red blinked once then narrowed, yellow fangs glinted in the dim light.

"A LED torch?"

"No."

"A cruet?"

"No."

The creature, pausing only to pop a few cells of bubble wrap, rose from its packaging. A small, almost simian head, gave way to broad green shoulders and a scaly, muscular torso, up and up it rose, out of its box, a thing of nightmares an abomination (although its mother loved it I'm sure.)before the sight of Man.

"A hair cut"

"No."

"A new handbag?"

"No."

The creature became aware of the two lifeforms near by, it cocked it head and listened, its ears swiveling and twitching back and forth between Lars and Helga. A slow smile spread across its evil features.

"A sauna?" it hissed

"No." said Lars.

[MANICHAEAN]

Being of a reserved and respectable disposition Lars was eventually invited to join the Hvaraggar Fijord Beach Club, a fenced off stretch of private vertical cliffs with controlled membership, icy water and adequately equipped with an all timber club house. The reader should be informed at this stage, that in Scandinavia in general & Hvaraggar in particular that the female gender species outnumbers their sexual counterparts by twelve to one. Such is the disparity, combined with temperatures hovering around zero and a certain Puritan outward demeanour of modesty, that an almost perceptable undercurrent of suppressed tension is felt. This was the complex human stage upon which Lars now made his mark, creating an impression whereby romantic provincial ladies became infatuated to the point of distraction.

[billl]

He tossed his used towel into the laundry hamper.

[MANICHAEAN]

And asked himself " What is that equipose existing in the human chemistry that divides the sexes and that as a result either attracts or repels as abhorrent one to / from the other?

[prendrelemick]

"Its just that old Black Magic" sang a nearby radio as Lars searched for the answer.

[Sarasvati21]

He sat at the table, his unshaven chin resting on the palm of his hand. His eyes were still bleary, his thinking still foggy, though he had arisen from his bed almost a half hour ago. Lars wished he could recapture the dream he had been having. In reality, he had no luck with women, and he wished--so badly it was nearly painful--that Helga were real, and not just a figment of his dreaming imagination.

Lars noticed the absence of sound in his kitchen, and jumped up eagerly to pour himself a cup of fresh coffee.

[MANICHAEAN]

"Damm, that reindeer has wandered off again", he thought & gulped down his Blue Mountain, sold by Mr Jorg Patel at the local fishing village stores.
He knew that from a female perspective to be successful with women,it is essential that interest be aroused. It's not primarily, physical sexuality. Women want some meat on the bones of character before the initial and tentative commitment.
"She is a woman, therefore may be wooed."
"She is a woman, therefore may be won."

[prendrelemick]

The fact that the only woman for 100 miles was the moustachioed Mrs Patel, (although Henning Anderssonn the village seal skinner often dressed as one - and looked damned attractive too.)didn't help his chances. "Find me sombody to lurr-rve" sang the radio.

[MANICHAEAN]

And so Lars decided to cast his net upon the waters & attend the monthly dance at the Hvaraggar Fijord Beach Club, an array of that small community's respectable middle class. Striding in past Trevor the doorman, an individual of dubious character & indeterminate lineage, his eyes lit upon a small group eating cods roes at the buffet table. In her late thirties with a full bodied figure, low cut dress of green silk and a cleavage to die for. Her face, a face of a child rather than of a woman seemed transparent, for so soft and clear was the skin. She kept her eyelids modestly lowered;tremulous lids bent and suffused reply at his glance.

[prendrelemick]

"Evening Henning!" Shouted Lars above the strains of "Take a walk on the wild side." coming from the band in the corner.

[billl]

But it wasn't Henning. It was Virginia Westbane (the less hirsute, but also dark-red-headed, sister of Mrs. Daphne Patel) back in town for some mayhem. Her father's estate dominated the eastern suburbs, which were yet to fully bloom, owing to the dearth of women to fill out the domiciles that were pulsing with promise and infinite yearning in the visions that regularly poured through the young Mr. Patel's day-dreams.

Lars grabbed his foot, and made as if his shouting had been but a painful cry (an easy task, owing to his accent). He shook his head, muttered something about modern shoe materials to a complete stranger, and then boldly strode towards the swirl of men surrounding Virginia.

[MANICHAEAN]

Lars was unfazed by Henning's latest disguise of platform shoes and a little black number. "Careful" he thought "Best not to upset the only supply of non-halal seal meat between here and Oslo." Henning clenched his glutus maximus but he could tell from Lars's eyes that his interests lay elsewhere in a certain party by the buffet spread.
Let me for a moment indulge the reader on Lars's eyes of which I must say a few words. Normally a constant yet placid blue. But firstly, they didn't laugh when he did. It was a sign of deep constant sadness. It was the flash of smooth steel, blinding but cold. His glance was brief but piercing and oppressive; it had the disturbing effect of an indiscreet question, and might have seemed audacious had it not been so calmly casual.

[MANICHAEAN]

Billl
You beat me to the punch by 3 minutes. Excuse therefore the disconnect in sequence as I responded to prendrelemick's inimitable input.
Regards
M

[prendrelemick]

Sat in the corner by the bar, Newcastle Brown in hand, watching the drama unfold, was Prendrelemick. He realised he was the only one who had seen what had happened, only he could repair the schism in the plot. He knew he must act quickly, before the tiny rent in the fabric of the story widened into a chasm and swallowed the whole thread.

He drained his glass and slammed it down on the bar, after a couple of attempts he managed to get to his feet and stagger towards the confused group.

"Henning, why dont you go and talk to Anders over there, he has some fishnets for sale...Or was that fishing nets," he whispered to himself, as Henning clattered across the floor in his stilettos."

" Lars, let me introduce you to Virginia westbane, notice how she can appear like a dark-skinned red-haired minx up for a bit of mayhem, or a delicate (though well stacked) blonde with flawless skin and a shy disposition, depending on the sequence of the disco lights she is standing under."

Virginia, this is Lars, his steely blue eyes tell of a life time of disapointments and lonelyness, in contrast to his happy(for a Norwegian) disposition."

His work done, Prendrelemick allowed himself to slump head first into the smörgasbord.
"Ya drunk! Ya drunk! Y'silly old fool." Played Benni Beorgussönn and his Upbeat 4 Piece Jazz Combo, in the corner.

[MANICHAEAN]

As the Norwegian Benni rendition of the Dubliners reached its climax "Sure you cannot see, thats a pair of geranium pots, me mutter gav to me", Lars had beaten off the opposition and asked Virginia home. No manoeuvring. With a bead of perspiration on her upper lip she knew she had to make that definitive step. The shock of reality for what the night held.Clamping on their skis they made their way back to Lars abode, a little small talk on the way.
She noted for future reference, on his shelves a collection of Barbara Cartland & Mikhail Lermontov miscellanies intermingled with a stack of Des O'Conner 78's
Once inside, the blood rose in Lars like a primitive animal. He unzipped the back of her dress and a blush suffused her cheeks. Full rounded shoulders, the defined arch of the spine on the lower back.
Divesting her quickly of ---------

[MSDGreen]

Her "things". Lars escapades of the evening have brought him to the precipice of what till that moment was unknown to him. As the evening grew darker he realized he could hide his secret no longer. Soon she would truly understand the horrors of E.D. and the paralyzing affect that it has on a young mans soul. Lars had made up his mind, he would no longer be held back by what was deemed proper or gentlemanly. Lars yelled, "

[MANICHAEAN]

"Brace yourself!"

The smoke from a Peter Styvesant wound up towards the ceiling & they lay there in each others arms, soaked in sweat, hearts beating, breathing deeply until at last a total feeling of exhaustion overcame them both and they sank into that abyss of physical fatigue known only to commensurate lovers. A pre-dawn peace settles over the soul as the effort from the nights endeavours prevails over any mental disquiet. Awake for ever in a sweet unrest.

[neodora]

and all was well in the world. and in our tiny spot in the universe,we sighed.

[neodora]

and as far as my signature, its supposed to be may not amy. sorry

[prendrelemick]

It has been claimed that the breeze from a butterfly's wing can cause hurricanes on the other side of the world.
Think then of the mayhem caused by the contented sighs of lovers.

As Lars and Virginia slept on, half a world away ,among the ever shifting sands of The Sahara, Fatima the camel herders daughter, looked up and saw the storm clouds gathering.

"Hmm looks like Lars has finally broke his duck." She thought.

[MANICHAEAN]

And Fatima was right, but it may surprise the discerning reader to know that Virginia, although she knew she had been taken, did not feel used but felt a common bond with a man who had taken her beyond any sensations she had experienced before. Earlier romances by comparison had been dull, fumbling affairs lacking in any real emotions. This man had been like a huge dense cloud, as dark as the sky at night and full of the presage of barely suppressed energy advancing upon her estate, creeping low over the fields to envelope her very being. It was the first physical contact that had decided the issue as she twisted her trembling arms tightly around his neck as if by this kiss she wished to give her soul to him, the first audacity of his advances and the ultimate compliance of submission to hitherto unknown positions and acts never revealed in the conventional education of a well raised girl.
It is said that the love of a savage girl is little better than that of a well born lady The ignorance and simplicity of the one are as boring as the coquetry of the other, And yet -------

[prendrelemick]

And yet, she now knew at the heart of every woman, high born or low ,there lurked a savage. She sighed, if only he had taken his skis off first!

" I let my heart fall into careless hands": Crooned Des O'Conner from the radiogram in the corner.

[MANICHAEAN]

Lars was now more acutely aware of other women in his community, and several times their gazes rested on him,expressing frustration while trying to communicate indifference. For them they hated men in order not to despise them, while he countered with pretending he despised women in order not to love them. He perceived that he had passed that period of seeking happiness alone and when the heart feels the need to love someone passionately. Now he wanted to be loved, and then only by a few. And so ------

[prendrelemick]

he began to live his life open to possibilities.

As for Virginia,...

[MANICHAEAN]

She maintained an outward demenour of inperturbable insouciance. Her previous expeditions into the arena of Norwegian MILF mayhem had provided gratification from recondite sources of what might be termed a higher strata of society. But after Lars, her private disquisitions were undergoing a sea change in her judgement regards the potential of men she previously would never have considered.
She proceeded to the entrance of the club where Trevor the doorman slouched dozing inside his cubicle. Her cleavage hung in equipoise above his face as she reached over his head for her wrap. He dreamt on oblivious and his stomach emitted alien murmers from the half digested sardine biriani he had previously consumed.
Exiting through the main door out into the cold, clear, crisp night her arm was suddenly grasped from behind. It was Henning Andersson, his face a contortion of emotion as tears coarsed down his cheek playing havoc with his makeup & questionable disposition.

[prendrelemick]

Virginia instinctively knew the source of Henning's upset. Every member of the sistership that is Woman, would have recognised his condition. She felt her heart go out to him. She put her hand to his cheek, wiping away the wetness (tears and snot) she felt there.
"I know" she whispered,"I know."
"But what can I do?" blubbed Henning.
"I use 'Wash & Go'all in one shampoo and conditioner, but my sister swears by 'Pantene'.
Henning snorted up the green candle of slime that was petruding from his left nostril.
"You mean, seal fat and vinegar is not goot for our hair?"
Virginia shook her head in sad sympathy.
"Henning, Henning, what am I going to do with you?"
Coming to a decission. She took his hand.
"C'mon, I'm taking you home, we're going to have a girly hairdoing party, ok?
"But why would you do this?" Wailed Henning.

Because you're worth it.

[MANICHAEAN]

Her duskish deep voice stirred something in him and they clamped on their skis. At the very next moment, as so often happens in dreams, the inconceivable merged effortlessly with reality.
"O' the blood more stirs,"
"To rouse a lion than to start a hare."
High on the ridge a Siberian husky viewed the transit of the two figures across the landscape and the night sky presaged a hard frost.
They stood facing each other for a moment inside Virginia's living room, the snow melting from their boots onto the pine floor. The whites of Henning's eyes stood out like hard-boiled eggs, his face purplish-red & he looked down to view each finger of his blunt, hairy hands.
Virginia changed into a cream-coloured gown cut very low over her high maidenly bosem and then proceeded to chalk on the floor: the twelve signs of the zodiac, the twenty two signs of the cabbala, the keys and the gates, the four elements, the three beginnings and the seven spheres

[prendrelemick]

Henning looked on with growing perplexity. As they were sking towards her lodge Virginia had mentioned she "dabbled in the occult", but at that very moment a husky had howled at the moon, Henning had heard "dabbled in Yakult", that well known yogurt based drink, and had assumed she was sharing a beauty tip.

He watched the lovely form of Virginia, on her hands and knees, naked beneath her diaphanous gown, her cheeks flushed with effort, her tongue protruding between her lips in concentration. He felt stirrings.

"She's just a devil woman," cranked the organ grinder in the street below.

[MANICHAEAN]

Enticed into the circle by this red headed fallen angel, Henning felt himself overwhelmed by a heady mixture of; elation, fear & fatalism. His very being was drawn into a vortex of special effects a la an effusive cocktale of Magic Roundabout & Sunday Night at the London Palladium.

He awoke at a bar in Jos, Nigeria & viewed the approaching barmaid. Her name was Joy and she had a safety pin through one ear. Strange, the apex of recollection in this instance should revolve around an artificial and somewhat absurd appendage. He took in his surroundings.

It was built like so many African beer parlours. A central courtyard with metal tables & chairs surrounded by two-storey regular and faceless accommodation. Empty also was the courtyard. Out came the said Joy, although at the initial stage he had no knowledge of her name. A hint of a smile in the eyes and teeth. Ibo by tribe with small doe like features and of course the improvised ear ring. Perhaps the genuine article was inserted when the real customers came during the night. Almost as an antidote to his unkempt appearance Henning paid for a beer & tipped well. Obviously too well for what she was used to. This scruffy, inter time warped Norwegian seal skinner who apparently seemed at ease with female company.
By the time of the second beer, an urgent "Psssssst" was heard from one of the courtyard doors. There she was beckoning him inside. Once drawn into these scenarios; absurd, with a labyrinth of possibilities you do not know how they will develop. Her room was cramped with two beds curtained off & behind one, basic cooking apparatus. Drawing the curtains of one of the beds adjacent to the outside wall, she indicated for him to lie down. No lack of taking the initiative on this girls part! So in he jumped fully clothed. Shuttered window to the right of him, curtain to the left of him, stove to the head of him, into the Valley of Death & couched for the charge, rode the singular representative of Norwegian manhood that Lord Cardigan would have been proud of!
After a suitable period of contortions on a horizontal plane ---------