Ch. 40

From his vantage point amidst the bushes, Vlad overheard voices on the road.
"I don't see why we have to check. He said he hitchhiked."
"Yeah, and if we know he was lying about that then we'll know he was lyin' about the vision. Plus, the car might attract attention, if there is one."
"Alright, but you know I hate these woods."
"What, you're afraid something'll jump out at us?"
Vlad considered jumping out at them, but decided against it. If they spotted him at all they'd either report him or he'd have to stop them from coming back, inwhich case their absence would be noticed. On the other hand, he couldn't let them get the car, and they were moving faster along the path then he ever could through the trees. He could see only one way out. Apologizing profusely to the lobster, he hurled it at one of the men, hitting him squarely in the back.
"Ow!"
"What, something get you?"
"Something hit me in the back. Check it out, will ya?"
"Nothing there. Wait a minute, do you see that?"
"The Sacred Lobster! Let's get him!"
They ran back the way they came, after the fleeing lobster. Vlad emerged from the bushes and bolted down the path, as fast as his legs would carry him. Exhausted and out of breath he reached the car. But what would he do with it, he wondered as he climbed in. He drove back onto the road and headed in towards the city. A garage, maybe. Of course, this would leave Eric on his own for a while, but atleast the lobster was back there. Everything would work out ok, Vlad was sure.

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!