Twenty-Seventh Floor: Nice Folk, Out of Hiding (for now)
POSTED BY: LightMeDark
UPDATED: Friday, September 8, 2006 10:31
VIEWED: 15819
PAGE 16 of 19
A harsh wind blows across the prairie too hot to give any relief from the 100 degree heat as The Man With No Plane Ticket walks along the deserted streets of this once bustling frontier village. Where could all of the people gone? What could have caused the entire popluation of this quaint train stop, saloon, and livery stable community to abandon their homes? Homes built from nothing out of the uncompromising soil and the sweat of an honest day's work. He may never know as his purpose for being here leaves little time for conundrums.
The dying man had said, "Find it in the bell tower," with his last breath while pointing toward the road that led to this curiously empty little town. Turning onto a side street The Man With No Plane Ticket makes his way to the glorified shack that served the good people of this town as a place of worship. Under more normal circumstances the turret at the top of the church would have scarcely drawn his attention. Though servicable enough for it's task a marvel of architecture it was not. It's only outsanding feature being that it is the most pretensious element of an utterly unpretensious three horse and a whore house town.
A cross breeze blew in from an alleyway lazilly stirring some dust that didn't have anything better to do as The Man With No Plane Ticket aproached the doorway leading into the congregation house. Suddenly he heard a crash from the distance. A small sound actually but magnified into the roar of a hurricane by the unnatural stillness all about him. Probably just some bit of wood falling over, the beginings of the plaines reclaiming this hamlet from it's erstwhile constructors. Probably.
The Man With No Plane tickets looked about for a way to get up to the bell tower.
David
"Not completely as well as the series of Firefly..." - From a review of Serenity at amazon.de
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Quote:
Originally posted by Mattie:
Play: (noun)
1) exercise or activity for amusement or recreation
2) fun or jest, as opposed to seriousness
3) a pun
4) the playing, action, or conduct of a game
5) an attempt to accomplish something, often in a manner showing craft or calculation; maneuver
6) an enterprise or venture
7) action, activity, or operation
8) brisk, light, or changing movement or action
9) elusive change or movement
(verb)
10) to act the part of (a person or character) in a dramatic performance;
11) to engage in a game
12) to contend against in a game.
13) to function or perform in a game or competition
14) to use as if in playing a game, as for one's own advantage
15) to gamble
16) to represent or imitate, as for recreation or in jest
17) to cause to move or change lightly or quickly
18) to exercise or employ oneself in diversion, amusement, or recreation.
19) to do something in sport that is not to be taken seriously.
20) to amuse oneself; toy; trifle
21) to move freely within a space
22) to move about lightly or quickly
23)to operate continuously or with repeated action.
26)to comply or cooperate
Wacky fun!
That's really good. Unfortunately I have to go now. I am off to Potrero War. It may be one of the greatest undiscovered parties in the Western Hemisphere. Drop by if you happen to be in the nieghborhood otherwise I will be back on Monday.
Stay shiny,
Scorpion Regent
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*Mattie resumes her cozy position on the couch.*
Aahh, a nice four day weekend to relax and rejuvinate.
*yawn*
See y'all! Have a blast!!!
Wacky fun!
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The Man With No Plane Ticket gazed up at the twenty foot high ceiling of the church to see a trap door that presumably leads to the bell tower. But how to get up to it? Glancing about it does not appear that the parishioners of this establishment were in the habit of bringing ladders to their services. Or if they were they were also in the habit of taking their ladders back home with them when they were done praying.
The Man with No Plane Ticket walked back out in search of a tool shed. Or the general store or really just about anywhere that a ladder might be found. Turning a corner he saw a pack of ferral dogs fighting over a lump in the middle of the dusty street. A lump about the size and shape of a small man. He raised his pistol to the air and fired a round to scare the mongrel pack away. The sound echoed off the buildings of this inexplicable ghost town and The Man With No Plane Ticket cautiously aproached what he could now tell was not a man but a strange caricature of one instead.
A pile of old clothes had been stuffed with straw, cotton and from the smell of it quite a bit of rotting meat. The Man With No Plane Ticket lit his last cigar and pondered the bizare turn his life had taken.
Who was the dying man he had met on the road to this forsaken village? What is it that lies in the bell tower? Why would someone stuff a perfectly servicable scarecrow with offal and leave it in the middle of a dusty street in this deserted hamlet? Where were the people who lived in this deserted hamlet?
The Man With No Plane Ticket had more than enough questions; it was a pitty he didn't have a few answers to go with them. Straightening up he walked toward the town's sole saloon. If he couldn't find a ladder in there perhaps he could at least find some whiskey.
David
"Not completely as well as the series of Firefly..." - From a review of Serenity at amazon.de
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The Man With No Plane Ticket pushed through the swinging doors to the saloon beyond. He walked over to the bar found a glass and an unlabled bottle of what appeared to be wiskey. He poured himself a glass and sniffed. Smelled like whiskey. He took a chance and drank - he was that in need of a drink. Nasty stuff. Trade whiskey for the ignorant savages that didn't know Glenlivet from Glenn Close. Watered down too. The Man With No Plane Ticket promised himself that if he ever met the owner of this saloon he'd call him a cheapskate.
The drink as unapetizing as it was did help steady his nerves as he walked toward the back room where he hoped he would find a ladder of some sort or perhaps a length of rope. As he passed he spied the sheet music resting on the piano, "Cockles and Mussels." It seemed eerily appropriate.
Upon examination the storeroom did not contain any kind of aid to climbing but it did have a door to the back just outside of which leaned a nice sturdy ladder. The Man With No Plane Ticket carried it over to the church with a renewed sense of purpose even as the dread he was feeling increased.
For those curious as to the song mentioned above http://www.uidaho.edu/clubs/womens_rugby/RugbyRoot/rugby/Songs/cockles
.html
David
"Not completely as well as the series of Firefly..." - From a review of Serenity at amazon.de
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The trapdoor grudgingly pushed up from the ceiling in the room below and The Man With No Plane Ticket climbed into the cramped space of the bell tower. He lit a match and looked about. Nothing but the bell. With a discouraged grunt he pulled at the clapper which rang the bell with a surprisingly muted note. The Man With No Plane Ticket felt under the bell and found a strong box wrapped in layers of cloth.
Climbing back down into the worship hall he looked about for a place to get working on the lock to the box. The altar seemed a good enough spot. Examining the box The Man With No Plane Ticket saw reasons for both hope and dismay. Hope because despite however many years the box had lain hidden under the bell the wheels of the combination lock still moved. Dismay because with 6 wheels and 26 letters per wheel he could sit here twiddling the dials till the day he died without guessing the correct combination. Force seemed to be out of the question as the lid fit almost seamlesly to the base of the box. He'd wager his first and last months rent that nothing thicker than 2 microns wide could get in that gap.
A thought occured to The Man With No Plane Ticket. What else had that man in the road said before he died. We Done? Could be six letters. That didn't work so he tired weedun, wiedun vedone, veedan....
Whedon.
And the box swung open in his hands. Inside a package encased in some kind of plastic yellowed with age. Hard to make out but the package might say Firefly. The Man With No Plane Ticket grinned for the first time that week. In his hands he had possibly the most valuable artifact of earth that was. Four disks of gold and he could retire to a place where privacy - though expensive - was assured and the most decadent luxuries where considered the barest of necesity.
The Man With No Plane Ticket walked off into the setting sun with wealth enouhg to buy a planet and questions to ponder for the rest of his life.
THE END
Ok. I hadn't actually meant to write a freeking novel. Just playing around with the whole ghost town concept since everybody left to go conning. Welcome back when you do get home and unpacked. Don't worry about me I'll be the one sleeping in the corner.
David
"Not completely as well as the series of Firefly..." - From a review of Serenity at amazon.de
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That was a cool little vignette David.
Scorpion Regent
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Quote:
Originally posted by ScorpionRegent:
That was a cool little vignette David.
Thank you. I trust you had a good time at the Melee.
David
"Not completely as well as the series of Firefly..." - From a review of Serenity at amazon.de
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Hello!
Back from D*C. At work, which is the suckiest suck that ever sucked today. But that's okay because I leave for England in 6 days.
BUSY BUSY BUSY. But I missed you all, o yes I did.
Also, there will be LOADS of pictures and other craziness very soon.
P.S. Broadsides rock!
Serenity,
President of The Juggled Gosling Chatroom
Bride8
http://callmeserenity.livejournal.com/
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