Ch. 39

The men with clipboards took Eric clear across the compound. It was a long walk, and he took time to take in his surroundings. Many people were about, in various colors of robes. They were all smiling and happy. How does that work? How does a crazy guy make a whole community happy by taking their money? He just didn't get it. His escorts made little conversation, after asking a few more questions. One that particularly amused him was "Have you seen this lobster?" At that point they held up a picture of the Sacred Lobster, symbols and all. They also asked how he came. He knew if he lied it would be easy to check, but if he told the truth he stood to lose a getaway vehicle. He finally decided to lie, and told them he hitchhiked.
Eventually they reached a place where most of the settlement ended. That is to say, they reached the far gate, but in the middle (next to a large guard of course) was a narrow path with iron gate and trees on each side. This path took them up a hill to a grand house. One of the men walked to an intercom and held down the button.
"Stitser and Wobbles, with the vision guy."
"Come on in," a gruff voice answered.
They opened the door and walked down a long hallway which opened in to a medium sized room with a large chair on the far wall, a couch on the left wall and a few smaller chairs around. A man was sitting in the large chair, talking to Gina. Eric arrived in time to hear her say, in a voice that he could not believe was hers,
"I love you too, Daddy. Good night."
She turned and left down the hallway they'd just left. He winked at her. She looked at him and squealed.
"Daddy! This is my friend Eric." She turned back to him. "I am so glad you've seen the Whey, Eric, and I want to apologize for all the blasphemy I said before. It is so good to see you!" Eric was shocked. Who was this girl and what had she done with Gina?
the man spoke now. "Wait, Annette. This is a friend of yours? Brother Stitser here says he had a vision of Engren."
"Good for you brother Stitser!" she replied.
"No," the man explained, "Stitser says that your friend had a vision of Engren. Don't you think that's a little odd?"
"No, I'm sure Engren appeared to Eric in order to undo the damage I did by blaspheming him. He's so wise."
"Honey," the man said levelly, "I'd like you to stay here for a bit. Ok?"
"Sure!" she replied and sat down on the couch, "Come sit with me Eric!" He did, and Stitser, confused but still trying to do his duty, did too. Wobbles muttered something about having to go greet the next guy and ran off.
Gina's father spoke. "So, Eric, friend of my daughter, I suppose I owe you thanks for making sure no harm came to her. She has told me of your quest, so I was expecting you to come, either to rescue her or for the Briskol Ip. I was not expecting you to come as a prospective member. So tell me about your vision."
"Well," Eric began uneasily, "It's a pretty standard vision. Ergen -"
"Engren." Gina supplied helpfully.
"Engren appeared and said to me that the only way to help Gina was to give up my silly toaster quest and see the Whey. He told me how to get here."
"And what of the other man, and the Sacred Lobster?"
"Vlad said I was crazy and he wouldn't come. He hid the lobster from me."
"I see. Stitser, will you fetch some tea?"
"certainly, sir" Stitser replied. He got up and left.
"Well," the man continued, "As suspicious as I am inclined to be, I think you speak the truth. How great is the way of the Whey, when even my daughter's disappearance can be a blessing. What can you bring to the community, Eric?"
"I'm a data-processor."
"Well," the man laughed humorlessly, "We've no data to be processed here. You'll work in the fields."
"Do you suppose," Eric ventured, "I could talk to Gina for a bit?"
"Plenty of time for that later. Oh look the tea's here. Won't you have some?"
"No thanks," said Eric.
"Oh come, you shouldn't be rude to your host you know."
He drank the tea, despite his misgivings that it was drugged. It was, as it turned out, Chai and quite good.
"You'll start in the morning. Go with Stitser, he'll show you your room in the village."
Eric did as he was told. Just as he and Stitser were leaving, Gina yelled, "Wait one minute!" and ran off.
"Very well," said her father, and gestured for them to sit back down. In a minute Gina was back with a card. She handed it to Eric. Before he could even open it, she exclaimed, "It's an invitation to my wedding! You remember Rob, right? We're getting married in three days! And now that you're here you can come!" She hugged him. She had never hugged him before.

Ch. 38

Vlad found his part of the plan to be much harder than he anticipated. He was to make his way, with the lobster, to the far corner of the gate. Unfortunately, the foliage got much thicker than expected once he got off the path. By the time he had traveled ten feet there was no wayto go on.
He surveyed his options. He had nothing with which to bushwhack. He could simply release the lobster - it could easily get through the underbrush - but he wasn't sure it understood the plan. He could walk back to the car; then either find something with which to bushwhack or drive around and try to make it in from another part of the forest. Any of the options might work, but if he failed - well, he couldn't fail.
Suddenly he heard a beeping rendition of Ride of the Valkeries resound from his pants. The cellphone. He picked up quickly.
"Hello?" he whispered.
"Vlad. It is good to speak to you again."
"Master Lin?"
"Indeed."
"I am so glad you called. I am having a dilemma. I - "
"I know. I can tell you only this: Caught between two evils, choose niether. Rather, let them both fall in the light of the truth."
Vlad was puzzled. This was very cryptic. Which of his options was evil? Bushwhacking, because it killed trees? Using the car because it killed the ozone? Or the lobster, through his association with the cult?
"Master Lin, I do not think I understand. How will your advice help me get through the forest?"
"Get through the forest?" the Master asked, seemingly slightly panicked. (But of course, thought Vlad, Master Lin is never panicked.)"The, um, the words I have given you will guide you later, for now you must simply follow your heart. It will guide you through the forest."
Master Lin hung up. He looked again at the prophecy, and kicked himself. He couldn't have just listened to Vlad's problem instead of pretending to know everything, could he? Oh well, he thought, even the Masters mess up sometimes.

Ch. 37

It's a special bonus summer update!
It wasn't a great plan, but at least it was a plan. Eric left everything in the forest with Vlad, and walked up to the gate in just his jeans and T-shirt.
"Who're you?" asked the guard.
"A seeker of the whey," Eric replied in the most hippyish voice he could muster.
"Spell that," the guard grunted.
"W-H-E-Y"
He looked slightly surprised, but motioned for Eric to stay there while he entered the guard house. A short while he reemerged flanked by two smaller men in blue robes.
"Greetings, seeker," said one, who was holding a clipboard, "You havve journeyed far, but you have come to the right place. We are going to rid you of worldly possessions, but first we need to ask you a few questions. How did you hear about the whey?"
"From -" he paused. How did people hear about a secret cult people never left? "From a vision, of a great stag." That was one hell of a gamble.
The man looked surprised and held a whispered conversation with the other man. The only bit Eric could make out was "Just check other and be done with it!" Later he would learn that the standard responses were mailing and telephone soliciting.
"Next question," he continued, a little frazzled, "On a scale of one to ten, how easy was it to find the whey?"
"8," Eric replied, hoping to not have to elaborate. This again appeared to be the wrong answer.
"Really? You know ten is easy and one is hard, right?"
"Oh, in that case, 2"
He could tell he'd made a good recovery when the man smiled and nodded. After a few more questions they reached a wooden house (like all the other buildings around) labeled "Things Not Of The Whey". The went inside.
Now the second man spoke.
"We'll be back in three minutes. Take all your clothes and worldly possessions off and deposit them in this bin. Then put on a brown robe from that closet." The men left.
Eric silently congratulated himself for leaving everything with Vlad, then did as he was told. About three minutes after leaving (Eric had no watch), the men returned.
"We are very interested in your vision," the first man said steadily, "We're going to take you to a very special man so you can tell him. Pardon the mess at his home, his daughter's homecoming party just ended."

Ch. 36

It was the next morning when Vlad and Eric reached the hotel. Things had returned to normal; there was no sign any illegal activity had taken place. Nevertheless, they asked around. The manager hadn't even been there. The night manager (Who they had to track down at his home) hadn't seen anyone matching Gina's description. He did describe a man who purchased a room, than dissapeared without staying in it. A room for three.
"He was a big hulking fellow, with short brown hair and a ridiculous handlebar moustache," the little man said, "And it wasn't long after he left that the gunshots started. I just stayed in here and called the police, that's the best way."
So, they thanked him and went on to the police station.
These were not surprisingly smart and helpful policemen. These were none-of-your-business-get-out-of-my-face policemen, so that thread ended quickly.
"So what else is there?" asked Eric frustratedly.
Vlad wordlessly held up the lobster. Eric sighed but nodded, and Vlad placed him on the dashboard. He pointed East.
"That proves nothing," Eric insisted.
"We'll see when we get closer to Maine," said Vlad.

So, following a vaguely remembered story and the lead of a lobster, they went to Maine. They drove 24 hours straight, Vlad sleeping in the day and driving at night, and Eric visa versa. It was about 11:30 then they reached the sign that said:
Welcome to Maine, the Pine Tree state. Eric nudged Vlad.
"Ok, we're here. Now what?"
"Wha- huh- the lobster," replied Vlad sleepily.
"He's pointing to the median strip."
"Well, you can't expect him to know traffic laws and how to find the place. Why, my pet crayfish couldn't even tell you what a stop sign meant. Not that we had stop signs in the old country. Couldn't afford them. If they wanted you to stop, they painted "Stop" on a tree. Well, actually they painted "Stans," but..."
"Vlad."
"Yes?"
"Where do we go?"
"Toward Portland, I think. And our lobster friend seems to agree."
"Ok, let's go."
But as they approached Portland, the lobster actually turned to face an exit as they passed it. And, lacking a better alternative, they took it. And then he started pointing out side roads. Until finally, they embarked along a long gravelly path. Which ended in the middle of the woods.
"Well," said Eric, triumphantly, "Guess that disproves your theory."
"He is pointing," retorted Vlad, "To a footpath."
"You can't be serious."
"C'mon. This is an easy walk. Why, in the -"
"Old country, I know. You had to walk 14 miles uphill through the snow and you didn't even have a lobster."
"Something like that," Vlad chuckled.
At this point they were pretty deep into the footpath, but it seemed to stretch on and on.
"Suddenly the pine tree state thing makes a lot more sense," Eric muttered. Eventually, however, the trees thinned until they were in a huge clearing, facing a large iron gate. In front was a man in a robe just like Rob's.
"Guess we're here," whispered Eric, "Now what's the plan?"

No update

You've probably figured out that there's no update this week. It's been finals week and I've been too tired. But next week is summer, and I'll be well rested and I'll update at least twice, probably more. In the meantime, here's a pic of me looking stylish.

Ch. 35

Outside, Vlad and Eric discussed their options, and decided to go after Gina. They had the law on their side, but only until they left Indiana. So, the best thing would be to leave Indiana quickly, before the rest of the law caught on. Or something. They decided to take Ringo, because it got amazing mileage, while the SUV guzzled gas like nothing else.
"The key," said Vlad, getting into the car, "Will be to obey traffic laws so we're not pulled over. Do you have control over the-"
"ADD? Yeah, I took my pills," Eric snapped.
"Okay. I trust that you have," Vlad answered with finality, "Anyway, do you know where we're going?"
"To that place in Maine."
"So she gave you directions?"
Suddenly he realized what Vlad was getting at. There hadn't been any need for directons. They had Gina. Without her...
Eric wheeled around back to the police station and got out of the car.
"Chief," he said on his way in, "We've got a problem." He went on to explain the situation, ending with, "So do you suppose you could check with the Portland police department? They'd know about a place like that."
"No," said the chief, "They'd be paid very much not to know about it. However, I may have a lead for you. A report from Ohio. Some kind of altercation in a hotel parking lot. The vehicle description matches the one that took your friend."
Eric took the piece of paper Silverstien offered. "Thanks"
"Good Luck," replied the Captian, "And Godspeed."
And they were off, driving as fast as they could while still going under the speed limit.
"Perhaps we should fly," said Vlad, "It's our only hope of reaching there in time."
"There really is no 'in time'," replied Eric cooly, "We'll never beat her there, but once she's there they won't kill her, assuming it's the cult that took her. If it isn't, then we're screwed either way. Our best hope is just to keep going until we find her. But we'll ask around this hotel."
"Alright, Eric. But when we're ready to go to Maine, I think I know how to find the way."
"Vlad, does this involve the lobster?"
"Well, yes."
"You think he can act as a compass and point us there?"
"Yes, actually. How did you know?"
"It just seemed like his style is all."
"Huh. I should probably call Ming about those agents. she can get quite upset, when strange men come into the house and -"
"Good plan," Eric interrupted, "You can use the cell."

Concerning Clams and Cabbages

I did some cleaning today and stumbled upon this. As near as I can figure, I was either just really bored or in a competition with someone to see who could fill a page with nonsense faster (It did fill a wide ruled page, with the diagram). Anyway, for your reading pleasure, here it is.

Clams are widely believed to be a good meal, but a bad pet. A pet clam is not very gratifying. They're not soft to touch, cute to look at or fun to play with. They can do no tricks. You have to keep them in clean water, and regularly feed them whatever it is they eat. All in all, if you have a clam it's probably better to eat it.
The same can be said of cabbages, except that you don't have to keep them in water and you don't have to feed them. They also rot. So, what I'm getting at here is that clams and cabbages are a lot alike, as you can see in this diagram.
So, clams and cabbages are a lot alike. But what does that mean for us? Nothing. It's meaningless. But, this still doesn't qualify as a story. The End.

Note - You probably noticed the way the diagram linked to my geocities page. The evil geocities forbids hotlinking, but I can still use the page to give you cool story graphics like this one. (Ignore the dancing monkey)

Ch. 34

Eric woke up early that morning, refreshed but confused about his bizarre Italian dreams. He called Vlad, but got no answer. As the phone rang, he made an unfortunate realization. He remembered how hard it was to wake Vlad up the last morning. How he could sleep through anything. If he had wanted to wake Vlad early, he should have taken the SUV himself. Just as he was about to give up and hang up, someone answered. But the voice was not Vlad's. It was feminine, slightly annoyed, and decidedly Asian.
"Hello who is this?" she said, all in one breath. Eric noticed the faint sound of baritone arias behind her voice.
"My name's Eric. I'm calling for Vlad."
He was puzzled. Was Vlad married? He didn't have a wedding ring, other than Gina's. Or did he?
"He's sleeping. Always sleeping. The man sleeps like a mountian," at this point she stopped talking to the reciever, but he could still here. "Wake up!," she screamed like he had never heard anyone scream, "Wake up you crazy man! Wake up! Somebody is calling you! Stop singing and wake up!"
The opera stopped. It was replaced by some shouting, this time in both voices. Then Vlad was on the line.
"Eric!" his voice was jovial, a sharp contrast to the shouting Eric had just witnessed. "Are we going so early?"
"We can't let them get to far ahead. Come by and pick me up, we'll go to the police station."
"Alrighty."
"And Vlad," Eric added, "You never told me you were married."
"You never asked." Click.

A little while later, Vlad arrived at the house. Eric climbed into the SUV, Vlad handed him a somewhat bewildered lobster, and they headed off toward the police station.
"So what's her name?" asked Eric, absently petting the crustacean
"Who's name?" asked Vlad.
Eric rolled his eyes. "Your wife, of course."
"Ming."
"She's Asian?"
"Chinese, actually."
And the conversation died. Vlad didn't seem to be overly eager to talk about his spouse, but Eric was determined.
"What does she do?" he asked.
"She's manager at Sears."
"Oh!" exclaimed Eric, finally finding a thread, "So you two met through work?"
"Not exactly." A beat. "In fact, she got me the job."
"Well how did you meet?" asked Eric.
But at that exact moment, they reached the police station. Vlad parked wordlessly and got out of the vehicle. Inside, Captain Silverstien was waiting for them.
"Gentlemen. Good to see you. Things didn't go as well as I planned, and the Feds obtained warrants to search your houses. You may want to leave right now, assuming you've got nothing to hide."
That was a lot to take in.
"I hope for their sake," Vlad said, "They arrive after Ming leaves the house."

Ch. 33

That night, to the softly played recording of Don Giovanni he'd found, Eric slept, hoping to acclimate himself to sleeping near Vlad.
Not far away, Vlad slept, singing an altogether different opera at a much louder volume.
Even less far away (about four feet, in a separate twin bed) Ming slept, screaming at Vlad the whole time. When they'd first gotten married she'd screamed at him to stop singing, but he was oblivious. Now she screamed so much she did it as naturally as he sang.
Next door, a gentleman named Bryce Hill was not sleeping. He was the 12th tenant to own this house since the Bergljotssens had moved in, last year, and suddenly he understood why. Who could sleep through the singing man and the screaming woman? How could they stand each other?
A mile and a half away, captain Silverstein was not asleep, because the damn feds were three hours early. 'I should've gone home,' he thought, 'Now I'll have to talk to them tonight.'
There were two agents - A short white man and a taller black man. They were wearing business suits and smug expressions, like all the feds. The shorter guy spoke first.
"Chief Silverstien. Working late, I see."
"Must be all the coffee and donuts keeping me awake," he snapped back.
"Now, now chief," said his companion, "You don't need to get all defensive just because real cops are around."
"It's a good thing for you I'm too mature to hit back."
"That's a good one. I'll remember it next time I'm to slow to think up a come back." he replied.
"Look," said the chief, fed up (no pun intended), "Here are the files on the kidnapping. When you're finished acting like little kids and feel like fighting some crime I'm sure they'll come in handy." He headed for the door.
"Now, chief," the shorter man broke in in that condescending tone, "All your professionalism is giving us a headache. We haven't even introduced ourselves. My name's Mr. Sweeney and this is Mr. Stuart."
"And since, as you so keenly pointed out, you started the conversation not by introducing yourself but by saying my name, you already know it. Now that the pleasantries are over, I'll leave you to the files. I trust you know at least enough about being a "real cop" to be able to lock up the station."
Mr. Stuart looked up from the files.
"Where might we find this Eric character?" he asked.
"The address is on there."
It was Sweeney who answered. "You're not holding these guys?"
"No, but I'm recommending that you take them with you to find the girl."
"That may be how you do things here in Indiana," he said the word as if it were some kind of vermin, "But we don't like prime suspects to be anywhere but in cells."
"They're not suspects. Their story checks out 100%."
Mr. Stuart replied. "If it's all true than they're all three crazy, and we can't trust them riding along. If it's not true than they're hiding something, and I think that's enough to obtain a warrant."
"Good thinking, Ted," replied Sweeney, "We'll check they're houses tomorrow. In the meantime, Mr. Silverstein, hopefully you can atleast be trusted to keep them from leaving the city."
"You can be sure," he replied diplomatically, "That I will perform my job exactly as it should be performed. Good night gentlemen."
And he left, to finally sleep.

Ch. 32

After a while, when you're driving along the highway, you lose all sense of time. The hypnotic movement of a car on the highway, the bland unchanging scenery - it all fades into a daze. Pretty soon, the time is passed and you didn't even know it.
It's pretty much the same when you're hog-tied in the back of the pick-up truck. Gina had been there several hours and was no longer thinking. Just riding along.
And suddenly, the car stopped. She expected, hoped, her host would come and open the top of the truck. He didn't. If he had stopped for food or shelter it was for himself alone.
And shelter it seemed to be, because after an hour they were still stopped. Gina guessed they were at a hotel room, and the brute was just going to make her stay the night tied up in the car. And damn but he could tie a good knot. Her assumptions that she could escape if she wanted to proved erroneous. She had just about given up when the back of the truck bed folded down. Amidst a hotel parking lot, she saw the face of Rob Bluntz.
"Gina," he said, cutting her bonds, "I'm here to rescue you!"
"Mphhmhp?" she began. She ripped the tape off her mouth. "Rescue me? Rob, I'd thought maybe you were capable of kidnapping to get me back. But to stage a fake kidnapping so you could rescue me? That is beyond sick! You-"
"It's not fake Gina!" he cried.
And strangely, she was starting to believe him. The only reason to do this would be to win her back, and he was to stuck up to stoop that low. He would have tried to woo her on his own merit.
"Who is it then?"
"Did you ever think your father might have enemies, Gina? There are people who want to use you to get to him. People who haven't seen the whey."
"Rob, this is your car. I saw the smile on your face when you pulled up in the gas station. I don't believe you're not involved."
"It's complicated! We can discuss this later, the important thing now is to get away before... Oh shimnol."
She looked up to see the source of his distinctly Order of Floobel curse, and saw a big man with short black hair and a handlebar moustache emerging from behind an SUV.
"You're smarter than I gave you credit for, Bluntz," the man said in dripping tones, "But not as smart as you need to be. After all, I only need one living political prisoner, and a dead one adds a lot of weight to my claims." He raised a small handgun and pointed it at Rob. As he pulled the trigger, time slowed down. Gina threw herself at Rob and pushed him down, all the while screaming. The bullet seemed to be trudging through mud, and the smoke rose from the gun like it was a chimney. Then they hit the ground, and it all speeded up. The mustached man was drawing a second gun. The hotel clerk was running out of the building. Gina and Rob rolled under the SUV, thankful for it's oversized tires. They stood up and ran when they'd reached the other side, Rob leading them in between car after car while more gun shots and shouting came from behind them. Finally he led her into a small red car. She hopped in, knowing she was just being kidnapped again, because it beat sticking around. She was not prepared, however, for who she saw in the driver seat.
"Hey, sis," came the voice of her brother, "Long time no see."

Ch. 31

30 minutes and two tellings of the story later (three if you count the version the guard told the other guards at the coffee shop) Eric and Vlad were sitting in the police chief's office.
"Well," said the chief, captain Jack Silverstein, "On the one hand that sounds like the biggest load of horse excrement I've ever heard in this office. On the other hand, it checks out with details you two've got no way of knowing: The security camera shows a woman just like the one you described and shows that the van had a Maine plate, although we can't read the number. Of course, you could know all that because you're part of the scheme. Or, you could just be telling the truth. So here's what I'm gonna do: First, I'll go into that little room and call Mr. Lin, to see if your stories line up. If I'm satisfied, than we'll talk about rescuing your hitchhiker friend. Does that work OK for you folks?"
"Fine with me," said Eric, who made a point of arguing with cops as little as possible.
"Could I go home and get my lobster first?" asked Vlad, who had no such rules.
"Can it wait?" the chief said, in a voice that really said 'It can wait. Sit Down.'
"I don't know. Lobsters are temperamental creatures."
"The Department will reimburse you for your lobster if it is injured or killed as a result of this investigation. Now just sit tight for a minute."
Captain Silverstein walked into his office, picked up the receiver, and dialed the phone. Fifteen minutes later he returned.
"Alright, boys," he said before even getting back in the room, "Your story checks out. So here's the plan: A couple of guys from the Bureau are comin down tomorrow mornin. They'll be investigating the kidnapping anyway. Given the nature of the situation, I'm going to strongly recommend they involve you in the investigation. You seem to know a hell of a lot about this, and personally, though you didn't hear it from me, I've got more confidence in you cracking this then them."
"What if they deny your recommendation?"
"Well, I'm glad you asked because they almost certainly will. Stuck-up bastards won't let anyone help them with their jobs. If they don't want your help, there's nothing I can hold you here for, so I recommend, off the record of course, that you try to find your girl yourself. I'll let you know in the morning. Go home and get some sleep."
"Thank you very much, " said Eric sincerely, "I figured the cops wouldn't understand>"
"We're not all the donut-and-coffee boneheads you see in the movies," he answered, "Just 97 % of us, and all the Feds."

Ch. 30

It's a special bonus update!
When they arrived, the police were everywhere. They couldn't even get into the gas station.
"Sir, you'll have to get your gas somewhere else. This is a police investigation," the guard said gruffly.
"You don't understand," answered Eric, leaning over Vlad to talk to the man, "That's my car."
"We thought it belonged to the woman who got kidnapped."
"Kidnapped? What happened?" he asked, realizing in spite of himself how bad it would look if he seemed to already know.
"Look, you guys had better come in. Park over there. He gestured to a curb by the police car.
When they got back in the officer was ready with a pad of paper.
"So who is the legal owner of the vehicle?"
"We sort of co-own it, I think. I'm not sure.":
"Look, what's your name?"
"Eric Smellick"
"Well, this car is registered to a Mr. Ti Wau Lin. So unless that's your friend there, you've got some more explaining to do."
"We're friends of... Mr. Lin," Eric said, diplomatically and not untruthfully, "He lent it to us."
"And who is us?"
"Me, Vlad Berglotssenn, and the girl who got kidnapped."
"And her name is?"
"Annette."
"Last name?"
A beat.
"I really don't know. We picked her up as a hitchhiker, she -"
"Hold on," the man broke in, "You let a hitchhiker whose name you don't even know take a borrowed car from another state to the gas station, while the two of you drive around in an SUV from Indiana? I need the whole story."
Vlad looked at Eric. Eric looked at Vlad.
"Okay," answered Eric finally, "But we'd better sit down for it."

Ch. 29

"Eric, I am here!" Vlad was jumping out of his SUV. "What is the next move?"
"Got the cell phone?"
He pulled it out of his pocket and presented it to Eric.
"Master Lin told me how to use this to track the car," Eric explained as he loaded his things into the back of the SUV, So we can get started chasing them down right now!"
"Chasing them down?" asked Vlad.
They were in the car now; pulling out of the driveway.
"Who are they?"
"They," Eric answered as he franticly pushed buttons, "Are the people who took her!"
"Eric!" Vlad shouted as he pulled the car over. He waited a minute and said, more softly, "What makes you think she's captured? There are many other explanations. We must be cool headed."
"Vlad, Master Lin told me she'd been captured. It's in the prophesy."
A look of understanding passed Vlad's face as Eric continued.
"Now this says the Ringo Harrison is parked in a gas station a few miles from here. The attackers must have stopped for gas."
"For two hours? I think not. EIther they removed the tracking device or they didn't take her car."
"Damn." said Eric, and that said it all. They drove on towards the gas station anyway.

Ch. 28 (Really)

After Gina was two hours late, Eric got a little worried. Finally, he called Vlad.
"Hello?" Vlad answered.
"Hey Vlad," said Eric, not bothering to introduce himself, "Do you know where Gina is?"
"Then she is not with you?"
"No. She was supposed to be here two hours ago. Has she got the cell?"
"No, I've still got it."
"Damn. Look, can you come over to my place and pick me up?"
"Not a problem," he answered, "Except that I do not know where you live, which is a problem."
Eric gave Vlad brief directions, told him to hurry, and hung up. Slightly panicked, he called Master Lin.
"Nights and weekends, toaster seeker," Master Lin answered, "This is neither."
"Sorry, Master, but it's important!"
"So Annette has been taken?"
"Taken? I just thought she was out of gas or something. Where did you get taken?"
"The prophesy mentions it. I didn't foresee it so soon."
Eric was speechless.
"Take heart, toaster seeker. All is not lost. The cell phone you bear can be used to track the Ringo Harrison. That should give you the clues to seek her."
"Are there any other... prophecies I should know about?"
"Only one. 'If the toaster seeker or his fellowship should hear one of these prophecies, the quest shall surely fail.'"
"Figures. Are they all that straightforward?"
"No. Now go. You have much to do and your long distance bill grows high."
And that was the end.
Eric grabbed his things, locked up, and went out to wait for Vlad.

Harry and the Fly

This was a one word story that came out of a family trip. The tune to "Way Down in Hell, Michigan" is to the tune of Don McClain's Chain Lightning, moreso than anything else.

Five times the splendid, ragged wheel of death by leeches screeched by. Five times the dreaded sunrise of squishy paste was oozing into a large fractal of sky. Five more beings exploded before noon.
The newspapers screamed their deadly screams. The television exuded all the news of devastation. In San Juan, mice reported that cats of unusual resplendancy and indeterminate size were tromping throughout upper Nova Scotia.
Harry Bloo was drinking orange martinis frequently.
"'Ello 'Arry" a fly greeted him.
"Hello fly named Al Ouch. Cursed muffins were blossoming from earmuffs yesterday. Dummy, haven't you seen enough to juxtapose devastation with peace throughout the territory?"
"Gosh no," answered Frumm, who had overheard nothing, "Every thirteen seconds I've sneezed for the fuzz. I'm through."
Suddenly, Al began sweating profusely. Al burst into song.
"Way down, in Hell, Michigan
I can't reach my designation.
Cursed muffins swat Harry's spoon,
Soon we'll hit -"
The song ended. An eery howl was cutting the heads off of the petunias underneath the floorboards. Death permeated everything.

I'm sure you'd rather see a real update by now, so I'll work on it. The last three words of the song are, by the way, "the promised land."

April Fools!

For those of you who haven't figured it out yet, that was not the real chapter 28, it was a completely non-cannon prank entry. I love you all please don't eat me. And I posted from Florida because my Uncle's grandson has a laptop and he's a nice guy.

TNT: Ch. 28

After Gina was four hours late, Eric got a little worried. He called Vlad, who didn't know anything. So he called Master Lin, recalling that he had placed a tracking device in the Ringo Harrison. However, the voice on the line was not Master Lin's. It was scary, dark, and dripping.
"Hello, Eric," it said.
"Wh... Who are you?" he asked, terrified.
"That's not important. What's important is where I am."
"Where?"
"Behind you."
But before Eric could turn around the knife was in his chest. He screamed for help, but no one heard, and by the morning he was dead.

Meanwhile, Gina was quickly discovering that her captors had nothing to do with her father's cult. She was loaded unto a plane, which first tipped her off. After a long trip, she was staring at a swarthy Arabic man.
"You," he said, "Are to be a slave at my club. You will serve drinks and dance or be beaten."
And she serves drinks to this day.

Days later, they found Vlad's body in a dumpster.

The End.
Note: Yep, that's right, it's the end. I got bored, so I just killed off all the characters and finished up that way.

TNT: Ch. 27

Gina woke up hog-tied in the back of a maroon pick-up, only now a tonneau had been added. Obviously they couldn't have the bed exposed with her in it. She surveyed her options. She might be able to break the bonds, it was mostly string and duct tape. However, then she'd have to get out of the truck. She couldn't manage it while it was moving, but she'd be closely guarded if it was stopped. Plus, she new Eric and Vlad would start a rescue attempt.
Keyword, she thought sardonically, attempt. As good intentioned and cute as Eric was, she didn't have a huge amount of confidence in his rescue ability. But then, they wouldn't kill her. In fact, if she played along perhaps she could regain enough standing so that when the guys showed up she could be even more helpful in getting the heating element.
But Gina was still a little puzzled. She knew Rob Bluntz. She'd known the dolt since she was little, and this kidnapping was not his style. He was actually, in some ways, a good guy. He would try a lot harder to convince her to come back before doing something as obvious as this. And why not wait until the lobster was with him?
No, it had to be this other guy who was in control. That could make things difficult.
Oh well, she thought, I'll just have to keep on my toes. Although that's hard when your feet are tied...

October

Don't ask me how, but October is back online!

TNT: Ch. 26

*Note: My October Archives are broken, and it was in October when Vlad said "Jack, cover for me." So his name may not be Jack. I'll check when I get home. EDIT: His name is, in fact, Jack.*

Vlad's time at home was more interesting than Eric's. He packed his stuff, set the lobster up in his bathtub, and headed off to Sears to see if he was still employed there.
"Vlad! Where you been!?!" screamed Ming Bergljotssen, his cranky Chinese manager, "We had three customers come in wanting to know about toaster personalities andyou were gone!!!"
"Jack," said Vlad under his breath to the man next to him, "I told you to cover for me."
"No!" interrupted Mrs. Bergljotssen, "You work here, do your job! That is what I pay you for!"
"I am sorry," he said diplomatically, "But I was, indeed still am on a quest. One of vast importance."
"A quest? You skip work two days for quest??? You crazy man!"
"A quest for a toaster. A good, kind, just toas-"
"I heard enough! You fired!!"
"Fired?" he asked theatrically, "Fired for doing my job? Ma'm I am an anthropromorphic toaster specialist, and I am trying, against impossible odds, to secure for your store, the specialest toaster there is (from an anthropromorphic standpoint.) You hired me because I know about toasters and their quirks better than anyone. So don't presume to tell me how to do my job!"
"I thought she hired you because you married her so she'd be a citizen," muttered Jack.
Vlad replied with a surrpetitious wink.
The manager meanwhile, had been thinking.
"How long you need?" she asked.
"I will be back at work in no more than two weeks," he replied, supreme in his confidence.
"Okay, we hire temp," she conceded, "You better be back!"

TNT: Ch. 25

Eric's experience was somewhat less exciting. He got home and packed quickly, than called his boss. He already had a perfect excuse for missing work, and it wasn't a lie. The trick would be getting the next few weeks off. His boss picked up.
"Hello?"
"Hey, boss. This is Eric, ..."
"Eric? Where ya been for the last two days?"
"I was in a car accident, ended up in the hospital."
"Sorry about that. But you still shoulda called."
"But I..."
"That's alright, all is forgiven. Just come in tomorrow morning and get to work on the Johnson project."
"Yeah, about that..."
"Yeah?"
"Do you suppose I could take my two weeks paid vacation now?"
"What? Why? You know you're supposed to arrange that at least one month in advance!"
"Well, I just. The accident made me think about a lot of stuff, and I need to decide if I really want this job."
"I'll make it easy for you. If you're not here tomorrow morning, you don't want the job, plus you get as much vacation as you need, though it's not paid. If you are here, then all's well that ends well, kapeesh?"
"But I..."
"Sorry, Eric, but that's show biz."
And he hung up. Eric had always hated that guy. It wasn't even showbiz.
Well, what now? He had half an hour before Gina was due back, might as well make another phone call.
"Greetings toaster seeker," came the wizened old voice of Master Lin.
"How did you know it was me?"
"The ways of the caller ID are not so mysterious as you may think."
"Oh. Right. Listen, I don't know if I can do this anymore. I just called my boss and -"
"And if you follow the path of the toaster seeker, the path of the data processor may close forever, yes?"
"You could say that."
"Search deep within yourself, and tell me truly that the path of the data processor is the one you must choose."
"I can't"
"Then there you have it. The choice is yours, Eric Smellick. Choose well."

TNT: Ch. 24

The plan for Indianapolis, however, was worked out. With Gina driving, she would drop Eric and then Vlad at their respective homes to pack. She would then fill up the gas tank on Ringo Harrison, do a little sight-seeing, and come back for Eric. The two of them would go to Vlad's and sleep - Vlad in his room, Gina in the guest room, and Eric on the couch. The first part of the plan went well. Eric was dropped off, as was Vlad.
But as Gina turned out of Vlad's driveway, she noticed something a little odd. She was pretty sure she was being followed by a maroon pick-up. It was trailing far enough behind that Gina couldn't see the driver's face, but she had definitely seen the truck a lot. Since I - 65 at least, probably longer.
Sure enough, when she stopped at the gas station, the truck stopped there, too. As Gina got out to pump the gas, she slid a knife out of her purse and kept it discreetly in her hand. She set the gas pumping and stood by the pump, looking nervously at the pick-up. A man got out. A far too familiar man.
"You get away from me, Robert Bluntz!," she yelled, "I'm not going back with you."
"Oh, but you are," he replied knowingly.
She quickly tried to analyze these words. What could make him so confident, so cocky? She didn't want to find out. She yanked out the pump, scanned her card and hopped into her car. Then she stepped on the gas and sped out.
She risked a look out the rear view mirror. Impossible! Rob wasn't following her. She pulled into a nearby out-of-sight parking lot to collect her thoughts.
And she was promptly knocked out cold by the man who had been hiding in her back seat.

TNT: Ch. 23

The plan for tomorrow night turned out to be somewhat better. They were sleeping at Vlad's house. After a little bit of discussion they decided it would be best to stop by Indy, so Eric could pack for a long trip and try to get leave from work and Vlad could pack and try to salvage his chances of keeping his job. As they calculated, they could stay the night in Indy, get up at six, and make it to the community by 10pm -12am, the perfect time for the cover of darkness. Hopefully by the time they arrived there there would be a plan, and it would involve cover of darkness.
They spent the trip to Indy trying to formulate the plan. They needed one that would keep everyone safe, including the lobster (Vlad was insistent), get them the artifact, and get them out. By the time they reached the city they had several plans, none of which produced the desired effect and were feasible. They came up with this chart, which adequately sums up the hours of discussion.

Plan 1 and 2: Gina or the Lobster is traded for the artifact
Problems: The sacrificee is trapped there.
In all likelyhood the rest of us won't be allowed to leave with the artifact anyway.
Plan 3: We all sneak in, under cover of darkness, and steal the artifact - ninja or mission impossible style
Problems: We aren't Ninjas
Our knowledge of the defenses is dependent or Gina's not entirely reliable memory. [She protested at this, but wasn't able to describe what part of the room the heating element was in, so she conceded the point]
Plan 4: Get help from Gina's brother.
Problems: He may or may not help.
He might turn us in or betray us.
Plan 5: Call in the cops to break up the whole operation.
Problems: They must have some means of not having been shut down yet.
If the cops are on their side, we're in trouble.
Even if they're on our side we'll have a hard time convincing them the artifact is rightfully ours, because it isn't.
[And now in different handwriting]
Plan 6: Send in the lobster, who knows the layout and defenses of the vault perfectly well and has proven he's on our side.
Problems: None [which is crossed out and replaced with , in the original handwriting]
It's BS.
The lobster is too stupid.
Vlad's a moron.

That's what they had to work with when they hit Indianapolis. Not the most promising plan or the most comprehensive list.

Google randomness

I am now number 1 on Google for the phrase "Sacred Lobster" (go ahead, try it) and number 9 for "just toaster". Also number 1 for "Eric Smellick" and the only result for the word Floobel. I hope this information is as exciting to you as it is to me.

TNT: Ch. 22

They found a nice hotel. It was clean and the staff was helpful, but it was amazingly cheap. Vlad was having a wonderful night. Unfortunately, he was sharing it with the rest of the room. When he finally stopped snoring he had started talking and now, at 1:00, he was singing. Gilbert and Sullivan. Out of key. The worst of it was, Gina seemed to be sleeping. So it seemed to be just Eric who was having such an awful night.
It wasn't just that Vlad was making a ruckus, although it certainly didn't help. It was also that Gina was asleep just five feet away. In her flattering lilac nightgown, she look so peaceful and pretty and... awake?
"What are you looking at?" she asked groggily, "And will he ever shut up?"
"I was trying to tell if you were awake," Eric lied, "So we could try to deal with him."
Gina said something else, but it was drowned out by a chorus from the Mikado.
"What?" asked Eric.
She leaned it closer to him. "Let's try to wake him. Maybe he can fix it."
So they tried. When yelling failed they phoned the desk and asked for an immediate wake-up call. The bewildered help desk tried it, but it didn't work. Nor did splashing water on his face. Finally, they decided to roll the singing Norwegian off the bed. They pushed and shoved and heaved, and finally he fell and abruptly stopped singing. They collapsed on the bed and almost instantly fell asleep.
So it was that Vlad woke up the next morning to discover himself on the floor and Gina and Eric in bed together. (Clothed and an inch apart, but in bed together nonetheless)
"Eric! Miss Gina!" he exclaimed, "Let's have a little chivalry and respect for the other roommate! If you two wanted a room together," he said winking, "you only had to ask."
"No, no!" Gina exclaimed still confused but awake enough to catch Vlad's insinuation, "We just, well, you were snoring and singing opera and we wanted to sleep, not together, just period, but we couldn't so we tried to wake you but we couldn't, and what are you smiling about?" she said to Eric suddenly.
"Nothing! It's just a funny situation. Irony and stuff."
She just gave him an 'I'm not stupid but I'll play along because I don't want to know the real answer' look.
"Anyway," Vlad interjected, "That's ridiculous. I sleep like an angel."
"Yes," agreed Eric, "Like an awake angel taking a break from hymns to sing light opera."
He scoffed and went off to feed the lobster.
Eric and Gina looked at each other for a minute.
"Look I-" Eric started.
"Don't worry about it," said Gina, smiling, "We'll just make a better plan for tomorrow night."
And when she smiled, Eric wouldn't have been worried about anyway. And he realized something in that instant. 'Starting now,' he thought, 'I'm fishing for cod.'

TNT: Ch. 21

"So," asked Eric when they got back into the car, "What's with this Red Snake?"
"I'm trying to remember. We had to memorize the contents of the sacred vault in school, but that was a long time ago," replied Gina, who was now taking a turn in the driver's seat, "I think it was supposed to have something to do with the Lobster, actually. Same story, anyway. I'll get it in a minute."
"Okay," said Eric, "Speaking of that, how is our sacred lobster?"
"He seems fine," replied Vlad, "He's been picking at the ring. I wonder if he knows what we're talking about."
"He doesn't!" snorted Gina, "Nothing my father collected is really supernatural! It's just a poor old lobster that got painted with symbols! I've never seen it act smarter than that, and I've known it since childhood."
"Since childhood?" asked Vlad.
She nodded.
"And the symbols have been the same that whole time?"
"Yeah, so?"
"A lobster molts five times a year. If they were painted they'd have to be repainted frequently. I'm surprised no one saw how normal the lobster was when it molted."
"It was kept in the vault. They probably pulled it out just before then."
She laughed suddenly. "We haven't been feeding him blessed food! They'll be furious!"
The others chuckled uncomfortably.
"Wait a minute," said Eric, "Have we fed it at ALL?"
They were silent.
"We probably should pick up some lobster food. We've only had him for a day."
"It's getting late anyway," said Eric, "Let's stop at this next hotel, and we can work out a plan in the morning. We'll get two rooms, I guess."
"That's silly," said Gina, "We'll get one room and you two can share a bed."
Eric looked over at Vlad and resolved to get back at her for that somehow.

TNT: Ch. 20

"And what would that be?" asked Eric.
"Back home, we have a vault of sacred objects. They're various things that played a part in my father's fake scriptures. One of the items is called Briksol Ip, or the Red Snake. It's also referred to as the Heating Element of the Eternal Flame."
"Yeah," Eric agreed, "That's a stronger lead."
"Unfortunately, it involves going back home," she said glumly.
"Well then," said Vlad, "We will go without you. We can drop you off somewhere with the lobster, and go in oursel-"
"No," she said in a final tone, "You'd never get in and out without me."
"Maybe it would help if we new more about the... cult," Eric suggested, "Here's the rest stop, and there's a Waffle Shoppe. We'll stop and have waffles and you can tell us."
"Sounds good," Gina agreed, "Then you can listen without getting us killed."
They went into the restaurant and ordered. Comfortable, Gina began her story.

"My father started the Followers of the Whey ten years before I was born. In his version, that was when a great White Stag came to him and told him a great story, which he wrote down in the Book of the Whey. The story was about the four antlered ungulates of old - the stag Engren, the moose Floobel, the elk Gerdam, and the caribou Brim. They had once been warring creatures, always locking antlers against each other, until they discovered the Whey. Now, whey is basically the liquid part of curdled milk, but the Whey was some mystical drink that would bring them peace. Apparently they wanted to share it with humans, and as soon as my father got enough people to follow him they would. He started a closed community on a plot of land in Maine. I grew up believing all this.
"Of course, it's a load of hooey I found that out as I got older. I started noticing how my dad, the great prophet, never showed respect to the idols when he was at home, only among the community. How the money and goods given to the community to facilitate reaching out to new followers always ended up in his pocket. How the community never actually grew bigger than the plot of land. By the time I was 16 I knew it was all a ruse. A talk with my older brother, four years my senior, yielded the rest. As the chosen heir to my father's position of Golden Stag, he was privy to the truth. He of course didn't want to tell, but we were close and I used my charm to weasel it out of him. The truth is my father, down on his luck and low on money, wrote the Book of the Whey off the top of his head. Somehow, through great speech and finding gullible people, he drew people in, building and acquiring more "artifacts" as he went to make him more credible. It was artfully done.
"Now, as a 16 year old girl who was growing up treated like a princess, this information by itself didn't matter to me. I struggled with it and lived with it for three more years, but when my father told me it was time to marry Rob, I started looking for a way out. Rob was one of the worst, who had risen to a high position by being stupider and more gullible, and therefore more devout, than anyone else, and I was to be the final rung in his ladder of success. (Marrying me would bring him into a new order.) I finally made it out at age 20, the day before the wedding. I bought my way to where you found me with smuggled money, and the rest is history. You came when I was out of money."
"Wait a minute," said Eric, "You were hitchhiking from Maine to New York and ended up in Illinois?"
"No, I got out by smuggling myself in the back of a semi truck shipping lobsters caught by the community to where I thought was New York. Actually it was New Mexico, and when you think about it that way, I got off pretty good getting off the truck in Michigan."
"Hmfw Wmfng wf yrn trmnft?" asked Vlad. Reacting to the blank stares, he swallowed his waffle and repeated.
"How long were you in transit before you met us?"
"Three weeks. Enough to take all my money. Speaking of which, who's paying for this?"
"Master Lin," said Vlad, holding up a credit card he had been given, "But you two have not touched your food. Eat up. I will talk."
At once they started shuffling food in rapidly.
"I know another old tale," Vlad continued, "About a walrus and the true meaning of Christmas..."

Disclaimer

I do not mean any offense to Republicans, Native Arctic Peoples, Atheists, non-Christians, Christians, Walruses, Bananas, Penguins, or people who wanted to read the toaster story.

How Willy the Walrus Discovered the True Meaning of Christmas

At this point, I don't want to go forward right away because the last post was so cliff-hangery and there's no new perspective I want to switch too. So in lieu of actual content, I'm writing a short one post story.

How Willy the Walrus Discovered the True Meaning of Christmas

Willy was a walrus. He was not a big walrus or a strong walrus. He could not perform songs from HMS Pinafore or precise calculus calculations. He did not look good in a tutu. But out of all the Walruses, he was the best at showing Christmas spirit. Every Christmas, he would be the first to put on his Santa hat, make hot cocoa, or build snow velociraptors. He always gave the most thoughtful presents and threw the most extravagant parties.
One day not too far from Christmas, Willy was putting up his lights when a very small meteor fell on his head. It caused him to wonder if he really knew the true meaning of Christmas. Deciding he didn't, he set off to find it.
The first thing he saw was a hungry Eskimo.
"Hungry Eskimo," he asked, "What is the true meaning of Christmas?"
The Eskimo, unfortunately, neither spoke Walrus nor celebrated Christmas, so he merely lobbed his spear at Willy. Luckily, Willy was small enough to dodge it.
"I guess the Eskimo does not know the true meaning of Christmas," Willy thought.
The next thing he saw was a GOP convention.
"Republicans," he yelled, "Do any of you know the true meaning of Christmas?"
"The true meaning of Christmas is to put an end to abortion and re-elect GW Bush!" cheered the republicans.
"I do not think that is the true meaning of Christmas," thought Willy.
After walking for a while, he saw a discarded banana.
"Discarded banana, what is the true meaning of Christmas?"
The banana was silent.
"Discarded banana, please tell me."
Still nothing.
"I guess the banana is an inatimate object and therefore cannot tell me the true meaning of Christmas," thought Willy and walked off.
"What a stupid walrus," thought the banana.
Finally, Willy encountered an injured penguin.
"Injured penguin," he asked, "What is the true meaning of Christmas?"
"Help... me..." the penguin stuttered.
"That's it!" said Willy, "Christmas is about helping people, just like Jesus did. It's the day when we celebrate the birth of he who died to save us all! Thank you Injured Penguin, thank you."
But the Penguin did not answer because it was unconscious. Willy shrugged and headed back to his house to spread Christmas joy. The penguin died.

(The penguin didn't really die because the banana healed him with it's super powers, but then the Eskimo ate them both which just goes to show you that stuff happens.)

TNT: Ch. 19

Eric did not speed for long. In fact, in light of recent events, he was very self-conscious about it. He realized he was very lucky to still have a license at all after the crash on the way into Wheatsfield. So the key this time would be to focus. To not get lost in his own little world. To - hey, was that the gear shift from his old car? He supposed it was possible, but - No! To focus. Focus on getting to... To...?
"Umm, guys? Where are we going?"
"We figured you knew," replied Gina.
"Nope. I think I'll pull over at the next rest stop so we can figure it out. Until then, well, what have we got to find?"
"The Golden Handle," said Vlad.
"The, umm, Heating Element of something something," Gina chimed in.
"Eternal Flame, I think," finished Eric, "And then the Iron Springs of, uh, Life?"
"Yes, and one more," said Vlad.
They all thought for a minute.
"Oh well," said Eric finally, "We'll ask Master Lin next time we call him. Any leads on the first three?"
"I might. There is an old children's tale my uncle used to tell me back in the old country. There was once an old craftsman, you see, who was making a great statue for the plaza of his village. It was commissioned by three different men, and they all wanted it made out of different materials, and they all wanted it to look like them. The first man, who was-"
At this point, he was interrupted by Gina's cry of "Eric! The road!"
"Right, right. The road," he said, turning back around, "Go on Vlad."
"Do you want me to drive?" Gina asked before Vlad could finish.
"No, I got it."
"Ok, but one more slip up and we're switching."
"Won't happen. Do go on."
He did. "Where was I?"
"The first man," Eric said helpfully.
"Oh yes. The first man was a tall lanky man, and when he spoke he talked with his whole body. He wanted the statue to be a common man's statue. He said it should be made of wood, so people would not think of it as above them. He wanted it modeled on himself, as he had always been a champion of the common man. The second man was a short, stout fellow, who wore rich, ornate robes. He spoke in long eloquent words and spun his side of the story like an expert lawyer. He felt the statue should be made of gold, so it would be a symbol of wealth for the city. He wanted it modeled after himself, the richest man in the village. The last man was the strong, silent type. He mostly listened to the other two. It was only when the craftsman asked him what he thought that he spoke. He said he wanted the statue to be made of painted metal - metal to symbolize strength, painted so it would look real, and people would be encouraged to talk to it. The craftsman listened to each of them and said he would heed all of their requests. They were skeptical, but they went away trusting his genius. Weeks passed, and the craftsman was seldom seen away from his studio. Finally the day came, and the man unveiled his statue. It was a man, with his mouth open as if giving a speech, but a look in his eyes that said he would listen to your suggestions too. He was gesticulating with hands stretched out to the people. His body, of wood, was modeled after the first man. His face was steel, painted with the most realistic paints to be had. And his tongue was golden. It symbolized the strength of the city, it's wealth, and it's willingness to listen to and help the common men. It was said to be the greatest masterpiece ever created in the city. And the moral is that it's better to listen to everyone than just to do what you think is best."
"That was great," said Eric.
"What the hell did that have to do with toasters?" asked Gina, a little annoyed. (She could only listen to Vlad talk for so long before getting irritated)
"Good question," added Eric.
"Well," said Vlad, "I figure a golden tongue could be used as a toaster handle."
"It'd be a weird toaster," said Eric.
"Could be kinda cool," Gina pointed out, "But it's a pretty weak lead."
"And do you have a better one, Miss Gina?" asked Vlad.
She thought for a minute. "Actually, yes. Yes, I do."

TNT: Ch. 18

Finally, as the time for Master Lin's meeting drew nigh, Gina decided to just head for the junkyard. Miraculously, Eric and Vlad had the same thought. They also happened to meet a little ways away.
"Guys!" shouted Gina when she saw them, "I have something to tell you!"
Before they could answer she continued, "The reason I ran away and Master Lin didn't say my last name and I didn't like the lobster is because my father is a cult leader and I'm engaged to this guy and -"
"Gina!" Eric interrupted, "We know. Vlad had a conversation with the gentleman."
"I didn't want you to find out like that, but I couldn't risk telling you, y'see." She was almost in tears. Eric had never seen her this way.
"It's okay, we understand." And before he knew it she was crying on his shoulder and hugging him. He noticed Vlad wink.
Luckily, Master Lin saved him from this awkward situation.
"Welcome." he said. Gina immediately snapped up and turned around, wiping her eyes. "Some of my students have been working since our meeting. Come, see."
He led them through the junkyard. Presently, Eric was accosted by two unshaven, slightly odiferous men.
"My name's Hank, and this here's Jeb," said one.
"An we reckon yur the feller as was in here a few days ago," Jeb continued.
"That toaster y' kicked out of our junkyard was our property."
"An furthermore, if it had hit somebody, we'd be t' blame fer it."
"I'm very sorry," Eric replied sincerely.
"Well, y'should be."
"An y' owe us 10 dollers."
"What!?! That was my toaster originally. And it wasn't worth ten dollars! And what was it even doing four miles from where I threw it away?"
"We're in the interjunkyard exchange."
"We take the worst stuff to the junk trade show, an' trade with other area junkyards. Helps us bring quality junk to you, like that car ur buildin'."
Master Lin, who had been watching the exchange amusedly, stepped in.
"We agreed on a fair price for the car, and I'm not going to allow you to overcharge it's driver for a piece of low-valued material you can't even prove he purchased. I will give you $1.20 for the useless toaster remains and your trouble. Agreed?"
"Alright, Master Lin. Fer you," Hank relented. The two wandered off, muttering unintelligibly.
"They're not too bad once you know them," said Master Lin, "And my pupils use this place for exercises frequently. In fact, that's how I got this done."
In front of them, surrounded by mechanics and repairmen in training was a most extraordinary vehicle. It looked like a Volkswagen Beetle. At least, the main body seemed to be hacked together form two VW beetles and something else. It was blue and green, except for the irridescent purple hood and trunk. All four hub caps were different. The overall effect was that if one tried to drive it, it would fall apart.
"All we had to buy firsthand were the tires," the mechanic who had shouted "Up" back in the classroom said proudly, "We call it the Ringo Harrison."
"Why?" asked Gina.
"It's made from two Beetles. So whaddya think?"
"It's... nice," said Eric.
"Very resourceful," said Vlad.
"What a piece of junk," said Gina.
"Indeed," said Master Lin proudly. "Want to try it out?"
They really didn't, but once they got inside, it ran pretty smoothly. They bid Master Lin and his apprentices goodbye and took off. (Eric couldn't help but test the top speed which was a whopping 100 mph.)
"An' now he's speedin' like all get out. Liable to kill someone."
"Reckon so, Jeb. Reckon so."

Fun with the Template: Full Throttle

Say hello to the copyright notice. (scroll down).

TNT: Ch. 17

Even while having this most interesting conversation, Vlad was quite concerned that Eric and Gina weren't in the coffee shop where they'd said they'd meet him.

Eric was quite concerned that he had no idea where Gina had ended up, and that Vlad was probably in the coffee shop waiting.

Gina was quite concerned that Rob was here, looking for her and that she couldn't risk leaving the bushes behind the back door of the Starbucks, even though she could see Eric wandering away. She was even more concerned when she ventured a look through the window and saw Rob talking to Vlad! If he found out everything, and told Eric, she'd... What exactly? Why didn't she want them to know? She'd been blindly keeping up the secrecy so long, she hadn't even given thought to telling Eric and Vlad what, of course, they deserved to know. But she still wanted them to find out from her, not Rob! She decided to find Eric while Vlad distracted Rob.

Eric, meanwhile, decided to go back to coffee shop and hope Gina had done the same. He walked in right as the man he had seen enter earlier was storming off. He saw Vlad sitting at a table and joined him.
"Where is Gina?" Vlad asked.
"She ran off when the guy with the robes came in. I just don't understand that girl."
"Do we ever understand women?"
"But, she won't tell me anything! How am I supposed to get to know her any better if she keeps her past shrouded in mystery?"
"Ahh," said Vlad understandingly, "You are in love with her, no?"
"What!?!" was Eric's incredulous response, "Where did you get that!?!"
"My dear Eric," he said, ignoring the objections, "Women are like cod. Not because they're better dried and salted, they really aren't. Women, not cod. Anyway, women are like cod. When you get a good catch, you've got to let it drag you around for a while if you ever want to reel it in. So just play along with Gina, she'll tell you when she's good and ready."
"Nice analogy, Vlad, but I really have no intention of 'reeling her in.' I just want to know who she is."
"Well she is engaged to the man who just walked out, who also happens to be the owner of this lobster."
"You couldn't have just said that?"
"It was a good analogy. I didn't want to waste it."

TNT: Ch. 16

She wasn't in the coffee shop! Rob Bluntz, Silver Moose of the order of Floobel had failed once more. And he was sure he'd seen her going in there. He was starting to wonder if this was really worth it. After waking up in the hospital bed and discovering that the lobster was missing, he had been searching every building in the city for either the lobster or for his fiance, but things just kept not going well. And now, well even if he could have returned without the Daughter of the Platinum Stag, he would certainly be ejected from the order if not killed if he returned without the sacred lobster. It was so unfair. If he ever figured out who launched that toaster...
Presently, something shiny caught his eye. A familiar ring. One which matched almost perfectly with the one on his own finger.
"You there," he said to the large Norwegian man who was sitting at a table playing games on his cell phone, "Where did you get that ring?"
The man seemed to consider this for a moment.
"It was placed on my finger while I slept, possibly by a lobster but more likely by a girl. Why do you ask?"
"Why do I ask? WHY DO I ASK!?! That ring is the-" he calmed down, realizing that to reveal too much would be a bad idea. "That ring is mine," he finished calmly if still not politely, "And I would like it back."
"I would be ever so happy to oblige. I don't like it much - the colors are too bright and it is somewhat effeminate. Of course, I'm quite comfortable in my masculinity and have no problem with a somewhat "girly" piece of jewelry, but I do not think this ring is really 'Me'. You see what I'm saying? Of course-"
"Yes I see your point exactly, which is why I think I should have that ring."
"Of course," the man infuriatingly continued almost ignoring Rob's comment, "You already have one such ring, I cannot imagine two would look good at all. If you wore one on each finger it would look too symmetrical, but two on one hand would be repetitive. So really, neither of us has much use for this ring, so-"
"So just... give it... TO ME!!!" he shouted, unable to control himself, "I need that ring to find my fiance and my lobster and go home again so I can be done with this stupid hunt and go home and get married! So just give up the stupid ring which you don't want ANYWAY!"
"I can't," the man replied calmly, "It's stuck, which is what I was getting at. By the way, I think I found your lobster. It's right here."
But his hand was empty.
"It was here a minute ago," he continued, "But I guess it finally ran off. It probably wasn't the same lobster anyway."
"Was it covered in symbols?"
"Well, yes."
"Then it was the same lobster! You've lost my lobster and gotten my ring stuck on your finger. Let's finish it off. You seen a girl around, 5' 10, short brown hair, answers to the name Annette?"
Again he seemed to consider this.
"No, I have met no such girl. Now, if you like we can get the ring cut from my finger. There are no jewelers in Wheatsfield, but I'm sure someone in the factory could help."
"Keep the damn ring! And if you ever get it off, send it to me. Here's my address." He took a piece of scrap paper out of his robes and jotted down an address. "Good day to you, sir!" he exclaimed and stormed off.
The lobster of Bune-Doom, seeing him leave, crawled out from under the table and onto Vlad's lap.

TNT: Ch. 15

Since they had some time before they had to meet Master Lin, Gina and Eric decided to get some coffee while Vlad picked up the phone. There was one more key establishment in Wheatsfield, besides the junkyard, hospital, and Imini complex, and that was the Starbucks. There wasn't a particular need or desire for a Starbucks in the town, but for some reason the company couldn't stand the thought of a town without one. However, with it's placement at the center of town, it had quickly become a popular spot for Wheatsfield's residents, as well as farmers who were in town to sell crops. As a result, it was quite crowded when Gina and Eric ordered some coffee and sat down.
"So, Gina," said Eric, "Out of curiosity, what 'leap of faith' was Master Lin talking about?"
"I'd rather not say."
"We're going to be on this quest together one way or another, Gina. You can't keep hiding your past from me."
"I didn't ask you about your past."
"True enough. I'll go first. I was born in the suburbs of Indianapolis. I have a brother and a sister. I went to IUPUI after high school, and was fortunate to get a good job. I'm a data processor for Globocomucorp. Basically I take the raw data from the engineers and developers, turn it into charts and give it to marketing. I'm also in charge of my project team for the Riggs project - a series of graphics for the stockholder's meeting. This means I have to schedule all the-"
"That explains it!" she exclaimed, the boredom too much for her. "No wonder you got so worked up about your toaster!"
"OK, so my job's not as great as I wish it was. I always wanted to do something noble; something that mattered. I mean, I don't even get to present the data I process. I can only imagine the looks of joy on the stockholders faces when they see my charts."
"You'd probably be imagining them anyway," she replied in a tone that was supposed to be comforting but ended up patronizing.
"So, my life's boring and you don't wanna hear about it!" he said, upset, "At least I'm willing to talk about it."
"You're right. I was being cruel and I shouldn't have-"
"That's okay. You're forgiven. Just tell me about yourself. Where did you come from? What were you running away from?"
"I wasn't running away from anything. I wanted to be an actor."
He just looked at her, with one of those hard-to-pull-off-but-very-effective "You're not fooling anyone" looks. She collapsed under it.
"Ok, you got me. It's because of my father. He's a - Oh look, our drinks."
She got up and walked to the counter. Eric followed. They paid for their drinks and were about to sit down again when Gina froze. She was looking right at a man just outside the door.
"Let's take our coffee outside!" she said suddenly and with obviously fake cheerfulness, "Via the back door!"
"But it says emergency exit onl-"
"Nothing like hot coffee on a cool day, right?" she continued in the same tone, now dragging his arm. She successfully pulled him outside right as the man walked in. The fire alarm went off as the door opened.
"Excuse me sir, ma'am!" yelled the kid at the desk, "That door is for emergency use only!"
"Sorry" said Eric. He began to move towards the front door, but Gina had dissappeared while the door was open. As he left the coffee shop, he noticed the guy she'd been staring at. He was wearing olive green and silver robes, with some very familiar symbols. Eric walked out into the cold, trying to remember where he had seen them before.

TNT: Ch. 14

After they left, Vlad gave some advice to Eric and Gina.
"Master Lin is one of the most revered makers of toasters in the business," he said, "And if anyone can find us a good, just toaster it will be him. But we must be very diplomatic. It is said that Ti Wao Lin can curse the toasters of those he dislikes, so they might never eat unburnt Pop-Tarts again."
"Don't you think you're being a little superstitious, Vlad?" asked Gina.
"Things in this world are not always as they seem, Gina, especially when toasters are involved."
And suddenly they were here, or atleast where the map said they should be.
Eric cocked an ear to the door. "I don't hear anything. Maybe the class let out early."
He cracked the door open and looked inside. A bunch of men (appliance repairmen from the looks of them) were sitting cross legged in rows throughout the room, with toasters in front of them. He was about to say something when four or five of the men called out "Up!" Half a second later the toast popped up in all the toasters.
A frail, Chinese man in a collar shirt and khakis appeared at the front of the room.
"Very good," he said, "You may all go. The class will resume this same time next week."
To a chorus of "Thank you, Master Lin"s, the men filed out. Master Lin turned to Eric, Vlad, and Gina in turn
"Eric Smellick," he said to Eric, and as their eyes met he felt a strange sense of recognition, like the man was an old friend.
"Vladimir Bergljotssen," (he saw the same look cross Vlad's face, leaving a huge, dumb grin in it's wake)"Sacred Lobster of Bune Doom," (Eric could not read the lobster's face, but was surprised to hear it so named) "And Annette -"
And, making eye contact with her, he stopped there. After a pause he picked up again. "Welcome."
"How did you know our -" Eric began, but the old man interrupted.
"Your coming has been long foretold, toaster seeker. And I have waited for this day. But we will get to that later. You came to ask something of me, I bid you ask it now."
This was it. The answer was sure to be here. All he had to do was ask. Yet Eric now felt a fear in his gut, a voice saying "This is stupid. Get out now." He ignored it.
"Master Lin, I'm interested in purchasing a toaster. A good toaster. A respectful, obedient toaster! A toaster that will make perfect toast every time! This is my request, grant it if you can!" Once the fire had taken over, every shred of self-consciousness left. Eric was once again affirmed in his beliefs.
"Eric Smellick, do you really believe I can grant you this request?"
"I had hoped as much."
"I cannot. But perhaps we can aide each other. I can forge such a toaster, but you must bring me the materials."
"What materials?"
"The prophesy says it must have the Golden Handle of Grace, the Iron Springs of Life, the Heating Element of the Eternal Flame, and the Casing of a Lost Soul. Will you accept this quest, Eric?"
"I will."
"Vladimir?"
"With God as my witness."
"Annette?"
She was silent for a moment.
"What about food?" she finally said, breaking the daze, "What about shelter and travel expenses? We don't even have a car."
"True. Accepting the quest is an act of faith. But you have made such a leap before, Annette."
"And look how it worked out!"
"It is still working out, and this decision will doubtless affect that."
"I'll do it. I've come this far; I might as well."
"And you?" he asked the lobster. After a pause he addressed them all.
"The you are ready to go. Take this cell phone number, so you might always call me. (But if you're going to call collect, do it on nights and weekends)"
"um, none of us have cell phones," said Eric.
"Good grief, toaster seeker, it's the twenty-first century! Take this voucher and get one from Jan in communications. Now go. Annette is right. Your first priority is to get a vehicle. I will meet you at the junkyard in three hours."
They left, their new quest weighing heavily on each of them.

TNT: Ch. 13

The Imini building was more of a headquarters than a factory. The factory was definitely a part of the campus, but so were the offices and the labs. The entirity of the corporation seemed to exist in this complex, and it served as one of two poles anchoring Wheatsfield in place, the other being the hospital. All the other buildings - homes, stores, a small school, the junkyard - had grown up around the healers and the appliance makers. (Well, wheat farming was involved too, hence the name, but that started out side the city limits.) When Eric, Vlad, Gina, and the Sacred Lobster of Bune-Doom entered the gates to the Imini complex, they were not just entering a small business as Eric had expected, but a whole appliance centered world. As they walked through the spacious, well-decorated lobby the receptionist welcomed them and asked the question Eric had been dreading:
"How may I help you today?"
He hadn't exactly figured out what to say to her, to avoid being categorized as a nutcase.
"Well, you see, my friends and I, we're on a sort of a quest - well, not so much a quest as a, a fact-finding mission and - y'know what it is more of a quest and-"
"We were hoping to talk to one of your developers." Gina cut in.
'Whom would you like to see?" asked the receptionist in her perfect receptionist voice, as if Eric's gibbering was perfectly run-of-the-mill.
They looked at each other. Some research would have been helpful before they actually got here. Luckily, Vlad was a toaster specialist before he was an anthropomorphic toaster specialist and he knew a thing or two.
"Does Ti Wao Lin still work with the series LM Toastillators?"
"I believe so."
"We'd like to see him, if it's possible."
"I'll schedule you an appointment with him," She typed a bit on her computer, "He's just finishing up teaching a class right now, you may be able to catch him on his way from the training center to the lab. Here's a map of the complex."
"Thank you, ma'am," said Vlad, and they headed off toward the center.
After they left the secretary paged Mr. Lin. "Mr. Lin, sorry to interrupt, but there are two men, a woman and lobster covered with symbols here to see you in reference to a quest."
"Two men, a woman and a lobster?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. The time is finally come."

TNT: Ch. 12

Two agonizing hours later, Vlad and his new-found friend were walking out of the hospital into a cool fall Illinois day. Vlad didn't have a clue where Eric and Gina were, but he figured they'd all meet up at the factory. This quickly ceased to be a concern when he spotted them walking out of a house together.
"How long was I in that coma," he joked, "That you two have bought a house here and are living together?"
"Nonsense, Vlad," Gina quipped back, "I'd never be living with him when we're still engaged."
A look of understanding passed over his face. "So the ring was from you, and not a lobster."
"Yes," she answered in slight confusion, noticing the crustacean for the first time.
"I was wondering when someone was going to mention that lobster," Eric chimed in, "Why is it covered in symbols?"
Suddenly Gina looked scared. "Vlad," she said in a slow, scared voice, "Let me see that lobster." He brought it closer to her. "Get rid of it. Let it go."
"I do not see what you have against my lobster friend. He may have odd body art, but there could be many reasons for-"
"Vlad, I don't want to talk about it. Please get rid of that lobster. For me. It will be fine on it's own."
"I would oblige you, Miss Gina, but I can't get rid of it. It follows me if I put it down." He demonstrated by setting it down and walking for a few paces. The lobster followed, with alarming speed.
"Well," she relented, "Just keep it away from me."
"Very well."
They walked in silence for a little longer.
"Gina," Eric began, "Why did you-"
"I said I didn't want to talk about it."
"Ok."
They walked the rest of the way to the factory (about ten feet) in silence.

TNT: Ch. 11

Vlad awoke the next morning to find his finger clamped in a lobster claw.
"Ow!" he shook the lobster off of his hand, but seeing lying on the ground, immediately felt sorry. (He also wondered why it was covered with occult symbols, but that was a minor detail.)
"Small crustacean, I did not mean to hurt you, but why were you clawing at my rin- Wait a minute - This is not my ring! I have no rings. Perhaps the lobster was giving it to me as a gift. Here, you may have it back." But it wouldn't come off. Try as he might, it was stuck.
At this point, the nurse, having heard the "Ow!" rushed in. "Mr. Bergljotssen, You're up!!" she cried.
"Please call me Vlad. And we have this kind creature to thank for my recovery, " he gestured toward the lobster, "Modern medicine is a wonderful thing."
"Mr Bergljotssen, that lobster is not affiliated with this hospital! I will remove it immediately."
"Ma'am, I owe this lobster much. Let me keep it here."
The nurse had a concerned look on her face. "Let's finish up your paperwork and get you checked out. You can take it with you when you leave.'
"Very good," replied Vlad as he scooped up the creature, "It reminds me of a pet I had when I was a boy. Of course, he was a crayfish and not a lobster, but times were tough in the old country and only the rich had lobsters, and they mostly ate them. (Not that I can blame them; lobsters are quite delicious in the right sauce. Anyway..."
As he talked, the nurse was having the sort of thoughts health care professionals are generally ashamed of, namely "I liked him better in a coma."

TNT: Ch. 10

"Gina!! Gina!!! umm... Annette!!!" Eric ran through the street yelling, but to no avail. This was odd because Wheatsfield was not a big place. There was the junkyard, the hospital, and the Imini building, along with sme scattered houses, a store, and a gas station. Eric really was running through THE street. As he ran, he noted the astounding lack of theaters and felt a pang of guilt. Perhaps Gina was better off without him.
"Eric!" uttered a familiar voice, "Stop screaming your head off. You should be with Vlad."
Gina was poking her head out the door of one of the houses."
"He's awake, Gina! He's gonna stay there till morning. But I had to find you. I'm sorry. I had my priorities screwed up. But, now that we're all back together again, we should visit the factory. We're here anyway."
She thought for a long moment.
"Okay. We'll go in the morning. Until then, I'm spending the night here. I'll ask Mrs. Butterworth if you can too."
"You're rooming with a stranger?"
"You pick up a few things when you live on the road. She seemed nice enough. Hold on."
She popped her head in and closed the door. A few minutes later it was back.
"There's only one spare bed."
"Oh," he said awkwardly, "so we sha-"
She slapped him. "I meant you'd be sleeping on the couch."
"Gotcha." They went in, ready to finally end a long hard day.

TNT: Ch. 9

Rob Bluntz was Silver Moose of the Order of Floobel, a powerful position among the Followers of the Whey. It meant he was next in line to be gold Moose, which was the highest position in the order of Floobel, the second highest among the order. It was a good position, but at some point everything had gone wrong. Currently, he was standing at a crossroads outside Wheatsfield, Illinois, trying to consult the Sacred Lobster of Bune-Doom, whom he had been carrying in a special lobster satchel (The Blessed Lobster Satchel of the Everlasting Fish, Cheesecake Forever Be with Him). It had stopped indicating a direction, which either meant he was at the right spot, or the lobster was hungry. The problem was that Rob had run out of Holy Lobster Food and to feed the Sacred Lobster anything else was blasphemy. Of course, he had the authority to bless lobster food, but he needed running water and a goat to sacrifice.
It was just as he was debating this that he got hit in the head by a toaster and knocked out cold. The lobster wriggled out of the satchel and scuttled off.

Comment This!

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TNT: Ch. 8

She was awakened by a mad shouting at the door.
"You have to let me in! My friend is in there! Vlad!"
"Kin?"
"No, but practically! He's my best friend!"
"What's his last name?"
"Ummm..."
It seemed that Eric was here. She'd bail him out.
"I can't believe you, brother! Forgetting my fiance's last name, on the way to the wedding! And after what happened to him, because of your lousy driving!"
"But that's what I came to tell you... sis. I finished talking to the insurance company and-"
"Oh get on in!" said the fed up nurse, "But don't be staying the night!"
Once out of earshot, they resumed their conversation.
"Fiance?" asked Eric.
"Well, they've got some stupid rule about staying the night here. Anyway, what's the deal?"
"We've got no car and almost no money. But I have a quest, and I will-"
"Your quest has your friend in a coma. Let's get our priorities straight."
Eric tried to interrupt her but was shushed.
"No, let me finish. This isn't my quest and it isn't my fight, but this morning I gave up my dream of being on Broadway to get in a car with a crazy man because I thought he had a vision and a quest. Since then it's been one bad thing after another. I'm only still here because poor Vlad got sucked in like I did and someone should stay with him. Now that you're here, I think it's your responsibility. Try that on for a quest."
She stormed out of the hospital, leaving Eric at Vlad's bedside.
For a moment, everything was quiet, except for the beep...beep...beep of Vlad's heart moniter.
"Vlad. Poor Vlad. I did suck you in, and I got sucked in too. To something bigger than me, something I don't understand. A crazy dream about a new toaster, that would be better than the old one. It could still be out there. Who knows? Who cares? All I know is that I ran into my old toaster today, and it's as malicious as ever. As much as I'd like to go home and call it quits, I don't want that toaster and its brethren to be all there is. I couldn't live in a world like that! I'm going to find a real toaster! A good toaster! A just toaster!"
"And I will join you, Eric Smellick!" said Vlad sitting bolt upright.
"Vlad!?!"
"What happened?" he asked more calmly.
"Its a long story, but if you want a place to sleep tonight, pretend to be in a coma."
"And what will you do?"
"I'm going to find Gina!"

TNT: Ch. 7

Gina had been waiting for most of the day. She'd used some valuable food money to eat at the hospital, but was weary of where to sleep. By her original calculations, she was in New York by now. There was some margin for error financially, but not much. The best thing to do, she concluded, was to sit by Vlad's bedside all night. She understood that it was a common practice for family members or close friends of injured people. Of course, he was almost a complete stranger, but it was a place to stay. She had almost dozed off, when a nurse came in.
"Excuse me, ma'am, are you kin?"
"Not exactly," she replied, sensing trouble. "How's he doing?" she changed the subject.
"He's in a coma, didn't they tell you?"
"I must have... forgotten." In fact, the doctors had been keeping her out of the loop all day.
"Well, if you're not kin I'm afraid you'll have to come back tomorrow. We had to do that after we had bums sleeping by random beds."
"Please," she said, discreetly slipping one of her rings onto Vlad's finger, "Vlad and I are... were... engaged -" at this she began to cry.
The nurse looked uneasy.
"Well, I guess that's alright dear. Take care."
She left. That was close. Her years of fake crying to get her way with her parents had paid off. But how long could she keep this up? Oh well, it was a problem for tomorrow.

Fun with the Template

In case you hadn't noticed, I added a new item to the sidebar- Stories. Currently, this is completely useless. However, should I ever start multiple stories, this will link to the archive where a specific story begins. Also, I just wanted to see if I could do it.

TNT: Ch 6

Eric's day as not going much better. He'd gotten away from the cops once they were satisfied that he wasn't drunk, the owner of the tree didn't press charges, and the paramedics said Vlad was gonna be okay. His insurance agents, however, weren't helpful. Because the crash was a result of his Attention Deficit Disorder, his medical insurance and car insurance were each jumping on the chance to make the other one pay up, and he was the go-between. A few hours of this had used up his daytime minutes and his quarters, and it wasn't looking like he'd get a new car anytime soon.
After he'd squared everything away, he rode down to the junk heap in the tow truck that was taking his car away. He figured it would get him closer to Wheatfield, so there'd be a shorter walk to the hospital.
The junk heap was huge. He walked around, carrying the box of stuff that was once the contents of his car, marvelling at the place, and the facts of life it represented. Nothing lasts forever. Sooner or later, junk ends up here. Then he saw it: the remains of his old toaster.
"It can't be," he thought out loud, "This is Wheatsfield!"
But sure enough, it was. He knew that toaster anywhere. It was the chunk that had stayed together- half a slot, half the handle, the settings knob. It was singed from the explosion. But it still had the same evil look.
You can't get rid of me, it seemed to say, I exploded and ruined your kitchen, and the bitterness I left you with sent you on a stupid, reckless quest. You almost got someone killed. You thought you had the last word, but I'm still with you, and You Can't Get Rid Of Me.
But he could. Filled with rage at the appliance that had used him, was still using him, he drop kicked it. It soared across the junkyard fence.
"You haven't beaten me, toaster!" he shouted, "And you won't. I'm going to the hospital, and then I'm finishing my quest! I will find the perfect toaster!"
With that, he stormed out.
Two tow truck drivers were watching from afar.
"Y'know, Hank, It's a good thing he said he was going to the hospital."
"Yeah, but even so. When that toasters hits somebody, It's us'll get the blame."
"Ain't that just the way it is, Hank? Aint it?"
"Durn tootin', Jeb. Durn tootin'"

TNT: Ch 5

Gina was sitting in the front seat of the ambulance. They'd said mild concussion. That meant things could still turn out ok. She could have left; she wasn't involved in this. She'd met these guys an hour ago, and she had left things before that were much closer to her. But right now, she was needed. Eric had to talk to the police; they suspected he was drunk or asleep at the wheel. She wondered herself. When he went off the road he was just staring straight ahead.
Well, anyway, she felt someone should be with Vlad when he woke up. She was almost looking forward to seeing what the guys would do once they reached Wheatfield. Well, they'd never reach it now.
"We're here, Miss. Wheatfield Community Hospital," the driver informed her.
Or not.
"We're taking your friend inside. You should come; you might need to sign some things."
"Ok."
They moved inside. She signed some papers, even though she didn't know if she had any right to. Attempts to contact Vlad's family had been fruitless, so there was no one else. She went outside to the waiting room. What a name, she thought, what a perfectly ironic name for a room. She sat down and waited.

A note about short chapters

I've decided not to try to write book length chapters. For me, a chapter is a scene. A split chapter is only if I've run out of time to write a complete thought. So basically, a chapter is an entry, an entry is a chapter, and that's okay.

TNT: Ch. 4

Five miles later, everything suddenly caught up with Eric. Gina was talking to Vlads about the finer points of the Atlantic Cod, when it hit him.
'This morning, I was buying a toaster. I never liked my old toaster. It was mean. At least I thought it was mean. When did I start thinking it had a personality? Oh well. I did start thinking it and that's what got me here. Here, in my car, with a strange, possibly crazy Norwegian man with a Russian name and an equally strange, though admittedly better looking hitchhiker, on my way to a toaster factory, to ask them deep questions about toaster nature. What happened to my sanity? What happened to my normal life?'
"What happened to the road and why are we headed into a tree!?!" Gina interrupted.
Unfortunately it was too late. He slammed on the brakes, but felt the jolt as the car impacted with the tree, and the billowing airbag in his face. Everything slowed down, as the car reeled back from the impact. He saw Gina out of the corner of his eye, she looked fine, but Vlad had blood streaming down his face. 'Oh No,' thought Eric, 'What have I done?'

TNT: Intermezzo

This might be good time to explain seating arrangements. It might not, but that's what's happening so get with it. When Vlad and Eric first entered the car in ch. 1 (continued), Eric was driving and Vlad was sitting next to him. This is the logical way for two people to ride in a car together. Then Eric, realizing he was going nowhere fast, let Vlad drive there while he jumped in back (Ch. 2). So how did they end up switching places between then and chapter 3, when Eric is quite clearly driving and Vlad is in the back seat?

They switched, at a rest stop, because Vlad was tired. Now back to the story.

TNT Ch. 3

The road to Wheatsfield was long and after only an hour, Eric was tired of Vlad's stories. So, when he saw a hitchhiker on the side of the road, and she didn't look like a serial killer, he pulled over. Plus, she was pretty cute.
"I'm headed for New York," she said, "Going that way?"
He wasn't.
"No, but anything New York's got, Wheatsfield Illinois' got better."
"Including Broadway?"
"You've never heard of the Wheatsfield Theatre Strip?"
"No"
"Nor have I," piped up Vlad from the back seat.
"Well, it's Wheatsfield's best kept secret."
"Everything in Wheatsfield is it's best kept secret," she said, "Since no one's heard of it at all! Now, can you take me where I want to go or not?"
"Not."
"Okay, sounds good." She got in the car. "My name's Annette, but you can call me Gina."
"Sure, why not," replied Eric, who had long since given up on sanity, "We're on the quest for the perfect toaster."
"Sounds fun," she replied, and they were on the road again.

TNT: Chapter 2

It's all very well and good to dream the impossible dream and all that, but what never comes up in the original vow is what exactly you do once the wild winds of fortune have carried you onward. THis is the problem Eric was facing, having gotten as far as his car with Vlad and not having a clue where to go next. Not wanting to look stupid in front of the large Norwegian man, who really seemed to admire him, Eric just started driving. To break the akward silence, he struck up a conversation.
"So, Vlad," he asked, "Where ya from?"
"Norway originally. I came to this country with my parents when I was 12. I remember it was just after we moved in that my father bought our first toaster. It was an old used toaster, that had seen too much burning and overbuttering in it's time. It was bitter. And somehow, the toast was bitter too. I remember when Father brought it home, he said 'Boy, this is America. A land where you can put your bread in a box, and it comes out better.' and Mother replied 'Don't listen to your father. We had a better toaster than this in the old country.' Ahh, those were the days." He fell silent.
"So," asked Eric, "If you don't mind my asking, Why are you called Vlad? Isn't that a Russian name?"
"My father always loved America, and wanted to give me a good american name. Trouble was, the only American names were the ones off the news. And one day when my parents were watching the news the name Vladimir was in it, and my father fell in love with it. Of course, later they found out it was Russian, but it was too late. I tell ya, though, must confuse the helvete out of the census bureau!" At this he laughed very hard, despite the fact that it wasn't funny.
"Yeah." Eric replied. He had stopped listening to Vlad anyway, and was desperately trying to decide where to find this toaster. Other stores would probably have the same problem, as would garage sales. Who would know about toasters, though?What about toaster makers? That was it!
"Vlad, is the box to my old toaster in the back seat?"
"Yep"
"Take the wheel for a minute." Eric climbed back to the back seat. Looking back, he would question the wisdom of letting Vlad drive his car, but now he was on a mission. He looked at the box. Where was it? There!

Send questions, comments, or complaints to:
Imini Appliance Company
17768 Sandusky Blvd
Wheatsfield, IL

What luck! Wheatsfield was only four hours away.
"Mr. Smellick," came the voice from the front seat, "I have no problem driving but, um, where are we going?"
"Wheatsfield, Illinois, Vlad. Onward, to victory."

TNT: Chapter 1 continued

Five minutes later, Vlad walked in. Vlad was a heavy-set norwegian man with dark blonde hair and a bushy mustache. He had a big grin on his face. He spoke in a deep voice as he extended his hand for a handshake. It was a bone-cruncher.
"Name's Vladimir," he said, "But you can call me Vlad. I'm the anthropro- antherpor- the new toaster soul guy."
"Eric Smellick."
"So, what are we looking for today? A vicious guard toaster? A generally nice but prone to fits of toast-burning anger toaster? Maybe a timid, ineffective one?"
"I'm just looking for a respectful, obedient toaster," Eric cheerfully replied.
Vlad's grin fell. "I was afraid you'd say that. I'm afraid we don't have any of those."
"Why not!?!" Eric asked, incredulous.
"As far as I know, there are none. Toasters just aren't that kind."
"I refuse to accept that! There are good toasters, there must be! Toasters were created to serve us, and somewhere, some toaster must do that! If you don't don't have it, I'll look elsewhere. I'll search unto the ends of the earth! Mark my words, Vladimir, I will find this toaster."
Immediately Vlad fell to the ground in awe. "Such fire! Such passion! I will follow you, Eric Smellick, on your quest for the perfect toaster, and together we shall find it!"
And they set out.
"Wait a minute. Don't you work here?" asked Eric.
Vlad walked back into the store. "Jack, I'm going on a quest cover for me!"
And they set out for real.