Thanks, RubeRad, for participating in this creative exercise. Although I have already pre-posted 4 more for the future, this series may very well be running our of steam.
"Man! Could I go for some buttermilk pancakes!" said the little man with the thick glasses. I gave him plenty of space by moving over to the next seat. He began reading a book with his loud, nasal tone entitled, "Love Wins" by Rob Bell. It was so irritating that I took my parachute and jumped from the airplane.
"What can I do for you, Nikola?" Corky Velveeta, the extraordinary Romans 9 grenade, inquires, as he checks fan mail, ranging from readers in Los Angeles to outer space.
"Hello, Corky," the scientist greets. "I'm afraid that we're stuck in a rather dire situation. My TULIP chain has gone missing. We could use the fine heads of yourself and Mister Eddings to help us crack this case."
"Us? Sherwood and Tom, I assume?"
"That's correct. Your additional expertise would be appreciated."
Smiling, the green pineapple-shaped gentleman glances at his comrade, engrossed in his works. "Eddie, I think we've got a mystery on our hands."
-
"Gentlemen," Watson acknowledges with a nod.
"Good to see you, gentlemen," I greet the dynamic duo as they appear in the red teleportation room. "I trust you are well?"
"Superb," Eddie responds with a smile.
"Smashing!" Corky follows.
"Excellent, excellent," Tesla comments, grinning slightly. "Would you two please take a look at this file?"
Our inventor friend hands off the document, the cartoonist and then the grenade examining it closely. After some chat between themselves, it's handed back.
"We recognize him," Eddie announces. "He's a regular at Sola Bootstrapa - he was even around a little back when it was Arminian Antics."
"A real trooper," Corky agrees. "However, that's no guarantee. Sometimes, the least likely option is the real one - and it may not even be a worker."
"True, true," Nikola mumbles, stroking his beard. "So, how are we going to find out?"
"I propose," Watson and I begin to together, causing us to laugh.
"After you, good sir," I state with a bow.
"No, sir, you!"
"I insist!"
"Very well. I propose..." Leaning in closer for dramatic effect, he smiles. "...a trap."
"Sounds good to me," Eddie concurs. "But with what?"
"I have just the thing," Tesla pipes up, snapping his fingers. "The additional notes for my chain. I had a lot of editing left to do."
"It's time to cook the goose, and book him a funeral," Corky laughs. "But, thankfully, this time, it won't be a reformer."
-
"If I could, Tesla, I'd take these pancakes and shove them up your nasal cavity," the evil doctor Son growls, throwing a dart at a brutalized picture of the inventor. "But that would get me even worse jail time or harsher, so I'm going to be a good boy and just steal from you."
"Message incoming from Operative 009," a robotic voice begins, accompanied by the rumble of wheels, throwing off the doctor's next shot.
"SHUT UP, YOU INSOLENT -" Eddy Son interrupts, his demeanor quickly changing as the realization sinks in. "Oh, do tell, my lovely robot assistant, 116..."
"Uh, yes, sir. He said that he learned about a missing piece of the TULIP chain - its notes. It wasn't quite finished, and the notes are a big part of the picture. Should I..."
"Two days from now, when things have cooled slightly - today is too soon."
"Yes, sir."
Grinning sadistically as the box of metal exits the vicinity, Son resumes chewing his meal and chucking darts, dreaming of the day when he can bring Tesla to his knees...As long as he's not praying, because prayer is bad for business.
I was reading this book, and I found a great recipe for nasal space-pancakes. Can't wait to try them!
ReplyDeleteThanks, RubeRad, for participating in this creative exercise. Although I have already pre-posted 4 more for the future, this series may very well be running our of steam.
ReplyDeleteI read in this book once, that nasal steam is a great way to cook space pancakes.
Delete"Man! Could I go for some buttermilk pancakes!" said the little man with the thick glasses.
ReplyDeleteI gave him plenty of space by moving over to the next seat. He began reading a book with his loud, nasal tone entitled, "Love Wins" by Rob Bell.
It was so irritating that I took my parachute and jumped from the airplane.
Yessss, I can write part two of The Case of Tesla's Missing Chain now!
ReplyDeleteThe Case of Tesla's Missing Chain - Part Two
ReplyDelete"What can I do for you, Nikola?" Corky Velveeta, the extraordinary Romans 9 grenade, inquires, as he checks fan mail, ranging from readers in Los Angeles to outer space.
"Hello, Corky," the scientist greets. "I'm afraid that we're stuck in a rather dire situation. My TULIP chain has gone missing. We could use the fine heads of yourself and Mister Eddings to help us crack this case."
"Us? Sherwood and Tom, I assume?"
"That's correct. Your additional expertise would be appreciated."
Smiling, the green pineapple-shaped gentleman glances at his comrade, engrossed in his works. "Eddie, I think we've got a mystery on our hands."
-
"Gentlemen," Watson acknowledges with a nod.
"Good to see you, gentlemen," I greet the dynamic duo as they appear in the red teleportation room. "I trust you are well?"
"Superb," Eddie responds with a smile.
"Smashing!" Corky follows.
"Excellent, excellent," Tesla comments, grinning slightly. "Would you two please take a look at this file?"
Our inventor friend hands off the document, the cartoonist and then the grenade examining it closely. After some chat between themselves, it's handed back.
"We recognize him," Eddie announces. "He's a regular at Sola Bootstrapa - he was even around a little back when it was Arminian Antics."
"A real trooper," Corky agrees. "However, that's no guarantee. Sometimes, the least likely option is the real one - and it may not even be a worker."
"True, true," Nikola mumbles, stroking his beard. "So, how are we going to find out?"
"I propose," Watson and I begin to together, causing us to laugh.
"After you, good sir," I state with a bow.
"No, sir, you!"
"I insist!"
"Very well. I propose..." Leaning in closer for dramatic effect, he smiles. "...a trap."
"Sounds good to me," Eddie concurs. "But with what?"
"I have just the thing," Tesla pipes up, snapping his fingers. "The additional notes for my chain. I had a lot of editing left to do."
"It's time to cook the goose, and book him a funeral," Corky laughs. "But, thankfully, this time, it won't be a reformer."
-
"If I could, Tesla, I'd take these pancakes and shove them up your nasal cavity," the evil doctor Son growls, throwing a dart at a brutalized picture of the inventor. "But that would get me even worse jail time or harsher, so I'm going to be a good boy and just steal from you."
"Message incoming from Operative 009," a robotic voice begins, accompanied by the rumble of wheels, throwing off the doctor's next shot.
"SHUT UP, YOU INSOLENT -" Eddy Son interrupts, his demeanor quickly changing as the realization sinks in. "Oh, do tell, my lovely robot assistant, 116..."
"Uh, yes, sir. He said that he learned about a missing piece of the TULIP chain - its notes. It wasn't quite finished, and the notes are a big part of the picture. Should I..."
"Two days from now, when things have cooled slightly - today is too soon."
"Yes, sir."
Grinning sadistically as the box of metal exits the vicinity, Son resumes chewing his meal and chucking darts, dreaming of the day when he can bring Tesla to his knees...As long as he's not praying, because prayer is bad for business.
Sorry for being so late. This is my first CC three-parter. :-O
ReplyDeleteJoel, it was worth waiting for.
ReplyDeleteGood to hear. :-)
ReplyDelete