Pale Rider needed a good sweat. His body craved the release of toxins and his mind felt clogged with civilization. He needed to sit with People of the Earth and chant, allowing the free flow of culture and wisdom to pass between and fill the holes in his life. It didn’t matter if his sweat brothers were Apache or Shoshone or Lakota as long as the tent held steam enough to clear his mind.
“…you can actually taste the friction Dimitri.”
Stu shook his head and stared, unnoticed at his iPad surfing wife. “Did you hear that Jen? They can actually taste the friction.”
“Hmm…that’s nice love.”
“I suppose they’d know that sort of thing what with it being a cooking show and all, but actually tasting friction? I can’t even begin to contemplate what friction would taste like. OK that’s not true, I imagine it tastes pretty similar to sticking one of those nine volt Duracells on your tongue when you were nine and stupid but that isn’t the point.”
“I expect so love.”
“You’re not even listening to me are you? I could say whatever I wanted right now and you wouldn’t hear a word of…come to think of it it’s probably more like sucking on wet wool.”
Fraternal twin brothers from an exemplary family with a long history of silver spoons, silk stockings, white gloves, and blueblood.
Arthur, the elder by minutes, born to ponder, plan, plot and practice minor deceits for major gains and elaborate scams for minimal returns or momentous losses.
Theo of the laughing lips and smiling eyes, a charming and pliable character and a lubricous seducer of young girls and married women. The younger brother, a slippery wordsmith, giving every word a double or triple meaning. His promises are rarely broken because they are seldom understood.
Prologue: A case of the heebie-jeebies.
In a determined effort to spread inefficiency and uselessness throughout all possible universes, the Amalgamated Union of Pennames and Imaginary Friends(of which I am a reluctant member) has expanded like a toxic spill, and now includes the clientele of the recently defunct Guild of Fictional Characters. The mess has been “rebranded” the UPIFFC.
“Good Morning Mr. Schmertz. This is Dawn with Orlando Marketing and Tourism to let you know you’ve just won an all-expenses paid discount opportunity to visit one of our luxury resorts in the Greater Orlando Area…let me axe you …would you be interested in speaking with one of our senior sales agents…”
“What time is it?”
“It’s 6:15am Eastern on this beautiful Tuesday morning…how are you doing today sir?”
“Go fuck yourself and never call here again.”
San Luis Obispo, California – August, 1939
Inside a private screening room, MGM chief Louis B. Mayer and his right-hand man, producer Mervyn LeRoy, have just finished watching a test print of The Wizard of Oz. Mayer is not satisfied with the cut and has instructed the projectionist to run it again, this time with the sound turned off.
The human body is undoubtedly the greatest work of art in the entire universe. This is my sincere conviction as I silently spring, hop and even moonwalk. Swirling with grace through the city street, I place the human form on nude display while keeping my mind expertly focused, eyes calm and and dispassionate.
Laughing out loud.
Rolling on the floor with laughter.
This last one was from Barb and Trevor’s heart-felt like supernova.
The night was going well. He was being charming, funny and confident. His body language advertised a great catch and a man who should be forgiven one honest mistake.
Arnold Dupree, the right-hand man and the representative of President Smith, shook hands with Oscar Bojanovic, the head of the voting facility. Oscar gave him a keycard and a badge and led the way.
“If you direct your attention to the screen, we can observe which question the voter is currently answering.”
You witness a fight between two equally strong men. Do you;
- Call the Police
- Run away
- Wait until one of them is victorious, and then attack from behind.
- Jump in and throw punches in every direction
- Tell them to stop fighting from a safe distance
Dirt Bike Armada is a 1988 action comedy starring Alfie Schultz as Donny “Kickstand” Harris. The film was directed by Reginald Crowley (fresh off his Golden Globes-nominated miniseries, Another Blackout in Electric City) and features Lowell Armingham (Brain Lasers), Heather DeLaney (Operation: Vigilante U.S.A. II), Tim Conway (The Apple Dumpling Gang) as the mischievous Mr. Humbert, and Mr. T as himself.