July
2008
By Douglas Kent,
Email: doug of whiningkentpigs.com or diplomacyworld of yahoo.com
On the web at http://www.whiningkentpigs.com
– or go directly to the Diplomacy section at http://www.whiningkentpigs.com/DW/. Also be sure to visit the Diplomacy World
website at http://www.diplomacyworld.net. Check out http://www.helpfulkitty.com for
official Toby the Helpful Kitty news, advice column, blog, and links to all his
available merchandise!
All Eternal Sunshine readers are encouraged
to join the free Eternal Sunshine Yahoo group at http://games.groups.yahoo.com/group/eternal_sunshine_diplomacy/
to stay up-to-date on any subzine news or errata.
Quote Of The Month – “Well, she was
beautiful and... I stole a pair of her panties as well. ” (Patrick
in “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”)
Welcome
to Eternal Sunshine, which is doing what it can to save the planet by
heightening awareness of the pleasures of Diplomacy, cats, books, movies, naps,
the Texas Rangers, cranberry juice, Joe Jackson music, and sarcasm. So the next time somebody tells you that you
need to do more for the betterment of mankind and the Earth, just let them know
you read Eternal Sunshine, make a smug face, and walk away. That’s what I do, anyway.
The
deadline for this issue kind of crept up on me.
Between work (my co-worker is past her due date and about to give birth)
and progress on the next issue of Diplomacy
World (due out in early July) I’ve been rather busy lately, and haven’t
been able to relax and focus the way I like to on what’s going on inside my
head. I haven’t completed any major
writing projects, so this is going to be a shorter issue than recent ones. Some of you might consider that a good thing,
so hooray for you! We do have the usual
number of book and movie reviews, letters, and stuff like that. You’ll also find a new game opening, for a
Diplomacy variant called Treachery. If
you’re interested in playing, drop me an email and I’ll sign you up! I’m thinking about minor variants to add to
the next By Popular Demand game. I think
we’ll use one of the simpler joker systems next time, where you can select one
of your answers each turn and receive double points for it. Sometimes games require that your joker pick
be the most popular in the category, or the most popular in the entire turn,
but I won’t be doing that. Instead, it
will just be a way to add a touch more strategy to the game. Let me know what you think.
I’ve
added one more feature to each issue, starting with this one. When we review books or DVD’s, I’m including
a link to those items in case you want more information on them (price,
availability, similar books or movies, or additional reviews). I think those links will automatically export
from this word document into both the html and pdf versions of Eternal
Sunshine, but we’ll have to wait and see.
Of course, they won’t export to the text emailed version, but technology
only goes so far!
So
that’s about it for this month. Those of
you here in the US of A enjoy your 4th of July holiday, and I’ll see
everybody at the end of the month. Be
careful with those fireworks! I still
remember the time a firecracker went off in my hand and I had to count to make
sure all my fingers were there. Damn,
with all the stupid things I’ve done in my life – especially as a child and
teenager – it really is a wonder that I’m still around.
The Unusual Suspects
Part One: Rudy
During
the drive we took to prison on the morning I was surrender, my father suggested
to me that in some ways I might find my time as an inmate interesting. “It will probably be like my time in Basic
Training during the Korean War,” he told me.
“You’ll meet some very unusual and different people.”
He
was right about that. I met some true
characters in prison. Some were absolute
scumbags who would steal from their best friends. Some were really nice guys. Most, as you’d expect, fell somewhere in
between. But a select group was truly
unforgettable. I’ve introduced you to a
few of them, like my first roommate…but there are a few more classic
individuals which deserve honorable mention, if not their very own
chapters. So my next few essays will
describe them one at a time. I call this
group my Unusual Suspects.
I’ll
lead off with one of the oddest people I ever met in my life. We’ll call him Rudy Silverton. Rudy was a career criminal, although he
preferred to refer to himself as an “outlaw.”
Well into his late 50’s, he’d spent the last decade or more behind bars
after enjoying the high life as one of the nation’s premier marijuana smugglers
and dealers during the 70’s. He traveled
extensively, spending a good deal of time in Europe and Southeast Asia. Rudy’s tales of living next door to Mick
Jagger, and the sexual perversion of 1980’s Bangkok were legendary within the
prison.
Of
course, simply having been some kind of anti-establishment drug dealer would
not be enough to make my list of Unusual Suspects. Rudy had a number of other unique
traits. Most obvious were his eating
habits. Rudy was very selective about
what he ate from the mess hall, preferring to gorge on things like cornbread or
fish, but avoiding many of the more popular dishes like chicken. He ate all of his meals the same way: with a
wet washcloth hanging from his neck like a bib, and with a pair of chopsticks
that he had managed to procure at some earlier time during his
incarceration. By the way, that wet
washcloth was the same one he blew his nose into during the day. Very appetizing, don’t you think?
Rudy’s
locker was stuffed with stolen or smuggled food. Jars of wheat germ, spices, soy sauce, and
horrible-smelling additives took up most of one shelf. It was publically known that he had all this
contraband, but the facility staff never tried to confiscate it. I have always felt they preferred to look the
other way simply to avoid having to deal with his other oddities.
My
first experience with Rudy was when I got up to use the restroom at 3am and
found him sprawled on the hallway floor, flailing and twisting around. In my half-asleep state I thought I was
dreaming. Then, after shaking my head, I
thought he was having a seizure or a heart attack. It wasn’t until I got close that I could see
he was practicing some sort of contortionist yoga moves…at three in the
morning…in the dark. I later learned he
did this every morning, after the 3am bed check. Some of the crab-like shapes he was able to
bend himself into were straight out of a circus…or a freak show. But that wasn’t the freakiest thing about
him.
Rudy
had one oddity even more drastic than those. I’d heard rumors, but I chose not to believe
them until I saw it with my own eyes.
You see, we didn’t have a lot of personal space in prison. If you were drinking coffee or water or Tang
you’d carry it around with you in a large plastic mug, complete with a lid to
keep it warm or cold. Everybody had
one. If you walked into the bathroom to
use the urinal, for example, you’d leave it on top of the urinal, or on the
sink counter next to you, relieve yourself, and pick it up again. Simple enough. So seeing somebody with a mug in the bathroom
was not at all uncommon and no reason for alarm.
Because
prison is such a dirty, germy place, you notice things. Maybe more so in my case, since I worked as a
plumber for my first year, and I was sensitive to how people used the
bathroom. Not flushing was a real pet
peeve of mine. Why the hell wouldn’t you
flush the toilet or the urinal? So one
morning Rudy used the urinal next to me, and walked away without flushing, I
was about to turn around and confront him…
…until
I saw there was nothing in the urinal but clean water. And that’s when I saw Rudy had his mug in his
hand, and was putting the lid onto it.
But I didn’t remember him placing it on top of the urinal before
relieving himself. At that moment, I
realized the rumors were true:
Rudy drank his first
urine of the morning.
I
never really asked for a full explanation from Rudy. In conversations when the topic was lightly
touched upon, I inferred that he “sterilized” it my microwaving it, or by
mixing it with boiling water, or something.
And that it was always just his first urine of the day – no other. I think he felt that was the one with the
nutrients in it. Rudy tried not to talk
about it, for fear that if the staff learned about this particular quirk, he’d be sent to the hole, or a psychiatric
unit, or who knows where. But that never
happened. Rudy made it through his
sentence through the Drug and Alcohol program, and back out into society, where
he could eat with chopsticks or do yoga or drink his urine in privacy.
His
freedom didn’t last very long, however, as Rudy’s “outlaw” tendencies continued
to direct his actions. The last I heard,
he had been arrested for marijuana possession.
As the story went, he’d had a quantity in a box (with his name and
address printed on it) hidden inside a storage locker. The problem was, the locker was in a building
adjacent to one which housed the offices of a local drug task force. One of the agents walked by the lockers one
day and recognized the unmistakable odor, and the rest was history.
I
hope he’s doing okay, because if nothing else he was a very funny and open
person. I just like to think he’s
changed his eating and drinking habits.
Baghead – Our favorite local theater had a free screening of Baghead, which
Heather and I decided to attend at the last minute. We were both
pleasantly surprised to enjoy a decent, mildy scary, and occasionally funny
film by the Duplass brothers (who did Puffy Chair, which we haven't
seen).
Baghead centers around four friends in Los Angeles. Stuck in the fringe
section of Hollywood, as extras in low-budget films which are shown at places
like the fictional "Los Angeles Underground Film Festival", the pals
(Matt, Chad, Michelle, and Catherine) decide to spend a weekend at Matt's
uncle's cabin where they plan to brainstorm and write a movie. This
movie, which would star the four of them, would hopefully be their ticket to
move on to greater things.
The early portion of the plot deals mostly with the inter-relationship
conflicts. Matt and Catherine (Ross Partridge and Elise Muller) are
on-again-off-again romantic partners. Matt's friend Chad (Steve Zissis)
has the hots for Michelle (Greta Gerwig), but she is more interested in
Matt and views her friendship with Chad as platonic.
Unable to come up with any ideas, the couples bump heads and desires until
Michelle has a dream that spawns Matt's idea for their movie: a killer who
wears a bag over his head. And the films (theirs and ours) are off to the
races from there.
Some funny moments, usually intentional, are scattered throughout, along with a
few old-style jump-in-your-seat-and-scream scares. Shot on a very low
budget, the eccentric camera angles and focus oddities are glaring for the
first ten minutes, but by that point you've been sucked into the film, and they
no longer matter.
Due to be released July 4, Baghead is one film you should look for. It
isn't Citizen Kane, but it's lengths above much of the typical summer film
selections. And, as the brothers pointed out in an after-screening
Q&A session, the Hollywood horror picture has become nothing but blood and
softcore porn and gore and torture. Baghead is a treat by comparison.
Check it out!
Seen
on DVD
– The
Exorcist (A-, Heather had never seen this uncut version. A few of the things which were so terribly
shocking then remain shocking today, because of good acting and taut direction). Lake
of Fire (B+, very insightful documentary about abortion, generally
balanced, revealing the danger of extremists and the awful emotion of the
ordeal).
Dealing
Dogs (A-, documentary of undercover footage of one of the most
notorious “class B” dog dealers in the United States. Horrific treatment of these poor dogs, many
of whom may have been stolen pets). Eraserhead
(C+, I still hold some fondness for the dark, suffocating atmosphere of this
David Lynch work, but Heather simply could not fight through it).
Tuesdays
With Morrie by Mitch Albom – Heather picked this
book up for me, and I was generally pleased with it. Certainly the message is one that I can
relate to: the key to a successful life is to love and to give. The drive for things is an empty endeavor,
but one which today’s society is constantly trying to cram into your skull. What gives the message more strength in this
book is its source: college professor Morrie is dying of ALS, and former
student Mitch Albom (now a successful sportswriter) has returned to allow
Morrie to teach one final lesson, the result of which is the book itself. I think, because of the difficulty the author
has with open emotion and revealing himself honestly, the book lacks some
emotional flavor I would have appreciated.
But it is still a good read, and I do recommend it.
![MCj04362550000[1]](eshtml18_files/image033.gif)
![MCj04362160000[1]](eshtml18_files/image034.gif)
Elephants
on Acid by Alex Boese – Great bathroom book. Loved reading about all the scientific
experiments, even ones I didn’t agree with them doing. Sickly fascinating. 4 pumpkins. ![MCj04363200000[1]](eshtml18_files/image036.gif){kind=small}
Dogwalker
by Arthur Bradford – Ugh. Wasn’t
the worst book ever, but it definitely felt like it was a waste of time, and
not in a good way. 1 ½ pumpkins. ![MCj04363200000[1]](eshtml18_files/image037.gif){kind=small}
Never
Change by Elizabeth Berg – Yes, this was a wonderful, sensitive,
full-of-emotion chick-lit book. But
still with depth. 4 pumpkins.
Pay
it Forward by Catherine Ryan Hyde – I appreciate the message. I was hesitant to read it, due to the fact
that the movie was supposed to be terrible.
Fortunately, as usual, you should not even compare the two. 4 pumpkins.
![MCj04363200000[1]](eshtml18_files/image038.gif){kind=small}
![MCj04363200000[1]](eshtml18_files/image039.gif){kind=small}
Shopgirl
by Steve Martin – I was surprised that Steve Martin was able to
describe the intricacies of the life of a nobody. But the book wasn’t so great, really. Just an okay little story. 2 ½ pumpkins.
Full
Moon by Rebecca York – Easy read by a very successful paranormal romance
writer. A spinoff of her other (better)
book “Killer Moon.” But this book was
still an enjoyable way to spend an afternoon.
3 ½ pumpkins.
Fat
Girls and Lawn Chairs by Cheryl Peck – Some parts were laugh-out-load
funny, but they were too few and far between.
2 ½ pumpkins.
The
Deviant’s Pocket Guide by Dennis Diclaudio – Interesting
subject matter, but dry. I also didn’t
like the construction and binding of the book, as it is too difficult to open
and keep open on the page you are reading.
In addition, I did not appreciate the less-than-scientific opinions of
the author. 2 ½ pumpkins.
Eat
This, Not That by David Zinczenko – A helpful way to learn how to make
better, healthier choices when eating out or getting take-out. My complaint with the book is that there are
too many restaurants in it that I have never heard of or never been to. 3 pumpkins.
The
Husband by Dean Koontz – This was soooo good. A very thrilling ride, with unexpected twists
and turns. 4 ½ pumpkins.
The
Taking by Dean Koontz – At first I thought it was going to be
like Stephen King’s “The Mist”, but I am happy to say it wasn’t; but still just
as exciting and unpredictable. 4
pumpkins.
The
Five People You Meet in Heaven by Mitch Albom – The concept of
every action of your life potentially being important appeals to me. But I didn’t get the big fuss over this
book. 2 pumpkins.
Richard Walkerdine: But you do
have the 'bug'. You have to communicate with everyone you can about everything
you can think of. That is not a criticism. I know (knew) the feeling only too
well. Good luck to you.
Particularly enjoyed seeing the 'By Popular Demand' games (and yes, Ryk Downes was
the inventor) and might even consider entering if you start a new one. But the
most fascinating thing of all was to see the names of Dane Maslen and John
Colledge in the games - they were both players in MAD POLICY from more than 20
years ago! Where did you dig them up from? In fact Dane was one of my 'MP All
Stars' team that won the team diplomacy tournament at Manorcon in 1986 (see my
DW article). Quite amazing.
Actually Melinda Holley rings a bell too, but I might be mistaken...
[[Dane and John are both still publishing: Dane with
Dane’s Games, and John with The Blue Nose Special, respectively. And, of course, Melinda “Rebel/Starwood”
Holley is a true legend in the hobby.]] (I then forwarded the latest issues of
DG and TBNS on to Richard – and I’d be happy to do the same for anyone else
interested in joining in the fun they create.)
Richard Walkerdine: I am beginning to hate you. You are (slightly) dragging
me back into THE ONE TRUE HOBBY and I really didn't want that. I am very happy
with my multinational cigarette card trading empire (postal auctions every
month, 12 eBay auctions every week), which not
only keeps me away from Ulrika but it also actually makes a PROFIT. I really don't
want all that hassle of backbiting and always trying to get one over on the
other guy....but it is so tempting....(no....I WILL RESIST)
But Dane still has Simon Craddock and Mick Haytack playing? They were in MAD
POLICY too! And Kath Collman...I was once once accused of snogging her at
Manorcon (no, I didn't...just a friendly peck on the cheek...), but oh, happy
memories....
I hate you Doug, you are almost as evil as me...
[[Ask
Sack McHugh, ask Jim-Bob Burgess…hell, ask Garret Schenck, or the U.S. Federal
Government for that matter….I am much MORE evil than you will ever be. You are simply a legend in your own mind.]]
Richard Walkerdine: I have always
believed it..where is Piggot?...where is Turnbull?....where is Sharp? (well,
okay but that was Ulrika's fault...I really didn't mean her to waste the
guy)...
...and as for you Yanks? Birsan hiding behind a screen of email
pseudonyms...Conrad too fearful even to return my emails...the rest of them
long since retired and just living on old memories...pah!!
There is only one remaining Secret Master from the First Age...
...and, although He is much older now, and a few grey hairs have appeared, He
is still fit, He still has his old dreams, He still remembers his time of total
Hobby domination, and He still wants REVENGE.....
Beware..,..
[[While Richard continues his descent into delusion,
insanity, and oblivion, let’s move on to a much saner hobbyist from across the
pond…]]
Dane
Maslen: It was good to see
that both you and Berend thought the Hitchhiker film was awful. I'd begun
to think that there was something wrong with me. It seemed to me that the
film's approach was to identify all the funniest material in the book and then
leave it out.
[[That’s actually a very perceptive way of
describing it. I always imagine all
Hollywood meetings to be like something out of “The Big Picture.”]]
Diplomacy (Black Press): Signed up: Melinda
Holley, need six more to fill.
Treachery Diplomacy (Black Press): Signed up: None,
needs seven more to fill. Rules below.
I may offer
another Gunboat 7x7 soon, so keep your eyes open. Other options are a game of Youngstown or
some other map variant. If you have
requests please let me know.
Treachery
By Martin
Janta-Polczynski
(rewritten by Doug
Kent)
Treachery
uses the same rules as normal Diplomacy, with the following changes:
1. With each Spring and
Fall season, each player may send one “treacherous order.” This is an order for a unit of another power.
2. This treacherous
order is followed in lieu of the original order the unit received (as if the
commanding general has become a traitor).
3. The Game Master does
NOT reveal which orders were Treacherous, nor from which player they came from.
4. In the case that any
unit receives two or more different treacherous orders, these orders are not
followed and the original “legal” order is used. If, however, a unit receives multiple
treacherous orders but they are identical (i.e. England’s F Nth receives
treacherous orders from both Russia and Turkey to move to Yor, and no other
treacherous orders) then the treacherous orders are used. In this example, if a third treacherous order
was submitted from France of F Nth-Hel, then no treacherous orders would be
used.
Skilled
players in this variant will try to take advantage of the treacherous aspect of
the game, not just by planning for possible treachery against themselves, but
by using the hidden aspect of the treacherous moves to explain away stabs or dot-grabs. Also, coordinating treacherous orders adds a
whole new dimension to the game, as allies can cooperate to effectively
commandeer a powers entire armed forces.
Diplomacy
“Wouldn’t It Be Nice?” 2008A, Fall 1902
Austria
(Kevin Wilson): A Budapest Supports A Galicia – Rumania, F Greece Supports A
Rumania – Bulgaria,
A
Rumania – Bulgaria, A Serbia Supports A Rumania – Bulgaria, A Trieste - Vienna.
England
(Jérémie LeFrançois): F English Channel – Belgium, F North Sea
Supports A Ruhr – Holland,
F
Skagerrak – Denmark, A Yorkshire Hold.
France
(Alexander Levinson): A Gascony – Marseilles, A Paris - Burgundy (*Bounce*),
A
Picardy Supports F English Channel – Belgium, F Portugal - Spain(sc), A Ruhr -
Holland.
Germany
(Graham Wilson): A Belgium Supports F Holland (*Disbanded*), A Berlin – Kiel,
F
Holland Supports A Belgium (*Dislodged*, retreat to Helgoland Bight or
OTB), A Kiel - Ruhr.
Italy
(Don Williams): F Ionian Sea - Tyrrhenian Sea, A Munich
- Burgundy (*Bounce*),
A
Piedmont - Gascony (*Fails*), F Tyrrhenian Sea - Gulf of Lyon, F Western
Mediterranean - Mid-Atlantic Ocean.
Russia
(Melinda Holley): A Galicia – Rumania, A Moscow -
Sevastopol (*Fails*),
F
Sevastopol - Black Sea (*Fails*), F Sweden – Norway, A Ukraine Supports
A Moscow - Sevastopol (*Fails*).
Turkey
(Brad Wilson): A Armenia – Smyrna, F Black Sea Supports
A Bulgaria - Rumania (*Cut*),
A
Bulgaria - Rumania (*Disbanded*), A Constantinople - Bulgaria
(*Fails*).
Ownership of supply centers:
Austria:
Budapest, Bulgaria,
Greece, Serbia, Trieste, Vienna.
England:
Belgium, Denmark, Edinburgh,
Liverpool, London.
France:
Brest, Holland, Marseilles,
Paris, Portugal, Spain.
Germany:
Berlin, Kiel.
Italy:
Munich, Naples, Rome,
Tunis, Venice.
Russia:
Moscow, Norway, Rumania,
Sevastopol, St Petersburg, Sweden, Warsaw.
Turkey:
Ankara, Constantinople,
Smyrna.
Austria:
6 Supply centers, 5 Units:
Builds 1 unit.
England:
5 Supply centers, 4 Units:
Builds 1 unit.
France:
6 Supply centers, 5 Units:
Builds 1 unit.
Germany:
2 Supply centers, 2 or 3 Units:
Even or Removes 1 unit.
Italy:
5
Supply centers, 5 Units: Builds
0 units.
Russia:
7 Supply centers, 5 Units:
Builds 2 units.
Turkey:
3 Supply centers, 3 Units:
Builds 0 units.
Autumn/Winter 1902 and Spring 1903 Deadline is July
29th 2008 at 7:00am
Autumn/Winter Will Be Separated From Spring on 3
Requests
PRESS
Confused Wilson to the Narrator: How many Wilson ’s is that? I think I counted
five: Deadeye Wilson, Wandering Eye Wilson, Tried & True Wilson, Soul
Brother Wilson and Tin Ear Wilson. Do we get to choose our persona or
will all be revealed at some appropriately dramatic moment? If we get to
choose, then I think I’ll go with Deadeye. He may have been the least
fantastic shot but he was good enough and he did get to go first. If his
targets had been his neighbors, they’d be gone before they could shoot back.
Con-Stp: Ai! Ai! Run from the A/I!!!!!
Somewhere West of the
Hobby…Fallen Women (pick one up cheap) “Wouldn’t it be
Nice if the beer was a nickel, and the women were hot?” asked the Maestro from
the stage at the front of the Heart of Darkness. The cowpokes and city fellers
hooted and hollered at that. A couple of
“yeah howdys”, from the back. “Today
during the Revue, it’s the other way around…the beer’s hot, and the women are
cheap.” More applause and catcalls, and
the Revue was off to a good start.
Have Logan sweep
Miss Kitty peeked out from behind the
curtain hung across the second floor landing for the occasion. It was off to a good start, she
thought, the men were rowdy, horny and thirsty.
She could practically see the money raining from their pockets. She had originally wanted to called the Revue
“Bimbos Akimbo”, but Logan and the Maestro, in a moment of rare agreement had
convinced her that would have been over the heads of most of the
clientele. Many of them were just simple
pig herders, and the others played Diplomacy, so she had relented and called it
“Fallen Women”.
The lights on the stage went up, and the
Maestro raised his arms to the crowd, “Gentlemen…and the rest of you…beware the
floozies, harlots and hussies…Oh, my!”
With that the ladies of the Heart of Darkness danced up onto the stage
in their bright splashes of breast and dress and cavorted through the Diplomacy
Stab & Thrust. The Maestro was
pleased that it was going well, right up to the moment when the well endowed
Patrice thrust with her tits, instead of her tush…he had coached them not to do
that…and her wobblies sprung free of their pastel prison and made their “grand
debut” into the limelight. She was
trying to keep in step with the other girls and at the same time stuff her
breasts back into the tight satin top of her dress. The cowpokes were hooting, figuring it was
all part of the show.
“Patrice,” one cowpoke hollered from the
back, “if you’re just gonna drown them puppies, kin I have one?”
After the dance number the girls put on a
couple of skits. The one named “This is
a Brothel, You Can’t Lie Down Here” got the most laughs. Then the Maestro held up a painted sign that
read “The Trollop that Packs a Wallop” and Gabby came walking up onto the stage
in red silk boxer shorts, boxing gloves and…not much else.
“Gentlemen, this luscious little lady has a
challenge for you strong, burly men,” exclaimed the Maestro. He looked into the front row at one of the
frontiermen, and winked, “and some of you are more burly than others. She’ll trade punchs with you,” he continued,
“she goes first, you come later.”
Another wink.
“Which of you is brave enough to face these
powerful guns?” At that Gabby raised her
arms and flexed, showing the muscles in her arms. Hardly any of the men looked at her
arms. “Damn!” and “Howdy” were heard in
the crowd.
“Which of you wants to receive a blow from
this petite madame of mayhem?!!” Several
men jumped to their feet. One scrambled
up onto the stage and stood legs spread and hands on his hips. The Maestro produced a plump little red silk
pillow with dangling golden tassles. He
held it up behind the fellow’s head, then dramatically measured the arc to the
stage and carefully placed the pillow on the floorboards five feet ten inchs
behind him.
“Go on, give me yer best shot,” the cowpoke
said, a smirk splayed across his face, “no woman I know kin trounce me!”
“You don’t know me,” said Gabby. She melodramatically whirled her arm around
in circles, making her breasts bounce and jiggle, to the appreciation of the
crowd and delivered a haymaker that took the poke on the chin, his boots
lifting from the stage toes north, and he landed on his back, his head coming
to rest on the silken brocade pillow.
The cowpoke was out like the cat during mating season. He didn’t know her. Didn’t know that she’d been one of the girls
that had worked on a farm before coming to the Heart, that she had milked
fourteen cows a day and carried buckets of feed, or that she had four older
brothers.
The roar of the crowd had been so loud, the
applause so thunderous that she hadn’t even noticed Deadeye clambering up onto
the stage. She was turning, arms
upraised, absorbing the applause when her turn brought her face to face with
Deadeye.
“Do me next,” he drawled.
“You’re a big ‘un,” replied Gabby. The Maestro held up the pillow, sizing up
Deadeye’s tall frame. He whistled appreciatively and paced off over six feet
behind the cowpoke and set the pillow down.
“You should see when the lights go
out.”
“They’re about to,” said Gabby, going into
her wind up. He stood there and she
delivered a resounding punch to his chin.
His jaw clicked shut audibly, his eyes crossed, his head wobbled loosely
on his neck and he wavered as if in a wind.
But then he shook himself, snapped his head back and forth, and his eyes
came back into focus.
“Damn girl.
You almost gave me my Vertigo back,” said Deadeye, rubbing one hand
across his swelling jaw. With his other
hand he pushed his sleeve up his arm.
Gabby swallowed apprehensively, “you
wouldn’t hit a girl, would you?”
“Wull,” drawled Deadeye, “I’ve lied to my
mum, I’ve stabbed a man just to get a dot, I spit in Wandering Eye’s beer when
he tweren’t lookin’, kicked the dog on my way in here and cussed an old lady on
her way to church Sunday. I am about the
meanest damn galoot you ever met. You’re
the smart tart…you tell me.”
The Maestro, appalled at what was about to
happen, started moving toward Deadeye; but he was too slow. Deadeye’s arm uncoiled like a tightly wound
spring; you could almost hear the air whistle as the punch sped toward
Gabby. The massive fist, almost as big
as her face itself, came within a hair’s breadth of contact. The swing whistled by and Gabby straightened
back up.
“Hey!
You dodged,” yelled Deadeye.
“And you say I’m the smart one,” retorted
Gabby, “my turn again.”
She brought up her gloved hands, but this time
Deadeye raised his hands in guard. Which
is when she kicked him in the balls. He
slumped to his knees with an “oomph” sound, and slowly toppled over into a
fetal position.
“Yeah, it didn’t feel that big,” said
Gabby, but the noise was drowned out by the crowd, now on it’s feet, clapping
and hollering.
Miss Kitty, looking down from the balcony, shook her head. “We better start the finale before Gabby kills off the clientele. Have Bruno start my music.”
HEART OF DARKNESS SALOON- Miss
Kitty glared at the cowboy with the guitar who sat at the bar dreamily
strumming his...instrument. "Place is going to hell in a
handbasket," she muttered as she stomped down the stairs. There was
silence except for the distant sound of a rhythmic drum and symbol.
"Talk about faith moving
mountains," S'ym muttered under his breath.
"Punk ass Garth Brooks wanna-be's
dressed up like Elvis," Miss Kitty wrathfully grumbled. "Like I
don't have enough problems. Wilson boys goin' loco and on sasparilla, no
less! Profit margin on that crap totally sucks!" Hand on
substantial hips, she glared at the back corner. "And Ducky over
there...yeah! I SAID DUCKY!...trying to fleece that poor Frenchie in the
bicycle pants. Like he don't have enough problems!"
Suddenly there was silence as a shadow
fell into the saloon...then picked itself up with a muttered "damn
spurs!"
Miss Kitty's hand slapped her breasts
in shock.
"Jello! That's what I forgot
to get at the general store!" S'ym shook his head.
"You!" Miss Kitty screeched.
"I thought they hung you years ago!"
The tall lean cowboy slowly smiled,
reminding more than one man of a hungry bobcat on the prowl. "No,
they just hung my...horse."
Miss Kitty gasped. "Jesus,
Mary, and Joseph! Not...not...Old Blue!"
"Yep," the green-eyed cowboy
nodded. "But he died with a smile on his face...and your name on his
lips."
Miss Kitty's fan fluttered faster than
a hummingbird's wings. "S'ym! Drinks on the house!
NOW!"
Somewhere West of the Hobby…With Apologies to Frank
“Wouldn’t
it be Nice, to have your life.
That’s
what all the people saaaaay,”
…Miss Kitty sang, her dulcet tones
preceding her down the staircase. She
was in her best dress and finest jewelry.
As her dainty, stiletto heeled shoe hit the first step S’ym turned up
the kerosene lamps and the lights in the saloon went up, glinting off her
pearls, diamonds and large white breasts.
Every eye in the saloon turned upward.
Bruno played her song, and she sang as she slowly descended each step;
“They
see the glitz and glamour,
Silken
dresses, men enamoured.
Draped
in pearls, French perfume,
Life’s
a swirl, days start at noon.”
She had timed it so that she reached the
landing and S’ym handed her a glass of champagne.
“Champagne
with bubbles, and bath-tubs too,” she toasted the crowd, and they eagerly
smiled and nodded back.
“That’s
My Life. That’s what all the people say.
You’re
riding Hugh in April,” she nodded toward Hugh and he smiled back.
(and Tom, and
Dewey…oh, hi Earl) she said sotto voce, and the crowd chuckled.
Even
if its for pay.”
“What
a life, that’s what all the people say.
You get to set
your own hours, (…as long as they’re after dark.)
and have it your
own waaay.”
“That’s My Life,
but that’s just what the people see.
They don’t see
the drawbacks, what it’s really like to be meeee,”
She stopped by a well dressed man sitting
at one of the tables, and took the cigarette he was smoking from his hand, and
took a drag on it, then continued singing,
“You see a lot of
ceilings, cracked plaster and peeled paint.
Try to think up
new ways to say, you’re great…(when you ain’t)”, chuckles from the crowd.
“And you don’t go
to socials, cause you are not a saint.”
“You know the
Pastor, but not the church, (hi, Jedidiah.)”, she slowly draped one hand
over his shoulder as she passed by,
dragging one finger against the white collar.
“And sleep with
men that don’t bathe,” here she was looking at the group of pokes from the
Whining Pig spread. A couple of them
were mouthing the word “whut?” in mock offense, while their compatriots laughed
uproariously. One of them reached out to
grab Miss Kitty and she slapped down his hand,
“ (much less
behave)”, she pushed him back into his chair.
“But I don’t let
it get me down.
‘Cause this fine
ol’ Hobby keeps spinning around,” she broke energetically into the chorus.
“I’ve been a
strumpet, a trollop, a harlot,
A tramp, a tart
on a swing.
I’ve been up and
down, and up and down,
And up and down,”
she sounded momentarily like a broken record, she winked at the boys at the
Bourse table “(okay, I’ve been up and down a lot).”
“Bent over, hung
up,” she leaned forward, exaggerating her rump, and bestowing vast cleavage
into the face of another cowboy,
“my north to my
south!”
“Hogtied,
blindfolded, restrained, strange things in my mouth,
(and further
south),” the cowboys hooted and
hollered.
“And I’ve learned
one thing, through all these years:
All those times
I’ve had my ankles
up behind my
ears,” she brought one hand up grazingly touching her pearl ear-rings.
“Each time I find
myself, flat on my back.
(Some strange
head in my rack)”, she tousled the hair
of one of her regulars.
“I pick myself
up, I get myself off,
And I get back on
the track.”
“That’s My Life…
That’s my life
and I can’t deny it
Many
times I thought of cutting out
But
My Heart of Darkness won’t let me try it,
But I know I’m
gonna change this tune.
When I’m back on
top,” she put one finger under a
customer’s chin and lifted his head “(and I like it on top),
“when the tables
turn soon.”
She hit the
chorus again, as she moved to the stage…
“I’ve been a
strumpet, a trollop, a harlot,
A tramp, a tart
on a swing.
That was when the
Ooompa music from outside became so loud you couldn’t make out her words any
longer, except for the screech of “WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?”
By
Popular Demand
Credit goes to Ryk Downes, I
believe, for inventing this game (although his original version had the GM
supply the starting letter as well). The
goal is to pick something that fits the category and will be the "most
popular" answer. You score points based on the number of entries that match
yours. For example, if the category is "Cats" and the responses were
7 for Persian, 3 for Calico and 1 for Siamese, everyone who said Persian would
get 7 points, Calico 3 and the lone Siamese would score 1 point. The cumulative
total over 10 rounds will determine the overall winner. Anyone may enter at any
point, starting with an equivalent point total of the lowest cumulative score
from the previous round. If a person misses a round, they'll receive the
minimum score from the round added to their cumulative total. And, if you want
to submit some commentary with your answers, feel free to. The game will consist of 10 rounds. A prize will be awarded to the winner.
