Disgust at inuendo in BtB!

A warrior (Bruno) and a small dragon (Fiona) team up for fun and plunder in this fantasy comic strip.

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Postby mouse on Wed Aug 14, 2002 1:35 pm

kelly eyed me narrowly. (that marachino juice had a sting to it). "not so fast" he grated. "this case is a real hot potato. it's got more layers than an onion, but you got all the answers oliva sudden, huh? and you expect me to just hot-foot it after yez, eh meathead?" he said, cuttingly. "i bet you're just going to leave me with egg all over my fact. answers first - just who is this verse guy with the shutter?".

"_terse_ guy, with a _stutter_" i signed. "you're really gonna make a hash of my investigation here."
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Postby Antarius on Sun Aug 18, 2002 4:34 am

That is when I noticed It... I had been too busy assuming that it was English all along...

The notes were all written in French.

That's right - I was finding French Letters!
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Postby mouse on Sun Aug 18, 2002 10:52 am

clearly the level of social intercourse was entirely different than i had thought. this was really going to put some knickers into knots.
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Postby Antarius on Wed Aug 21, 2002 5:13 pm

This sextraordinary turn of events led to the cop(it)ulation of a new motive.

Unfortunately, I had no idea what it was. Nor, frankly, did I care.

But because the show must go on, I donned my cap and coat, pocketed my badge and $2.50 that was lying on the desk, and proceeded out the main door.

My destination; Phil's bar. My reason; I wanted to get pissed...
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Postby Major Tom on Mon Aug 26, 2002 5:02 am

...and that evil bastard always had some bug or another up his butt.

Yep a good, staggering dose of pure hatred was what I needed to get the juices flowing. But the last thing I expected to find at Phil's Juicorium was...
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Postby mouse on Mon Aug 26, 2002 1:31 pm

velda.
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Postby Antarius on Mon Aug 26, 2002 4:05 pm

Velda. The name sent shivers down my spine. That and the bag of ice I was using to keep the swelling down.

Not to mention her singing. Her singing was the sort of thing that, more or less, completely failed to sound almost not unlike the noise made by a cat being swung around by its tail.

Which is kind of sad, since she was the permanent singer at Phil's. I often guessed that there was a purpose to this, like having salty peanuts on the bar. Salt makes you thirsty, which makes you buy more drinks to quench your thirst. Velda's singing makes you hurt, which makes you buy more drinks to kill multiple brain cells and ease the pain.
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Postby Major Tom on Tue Aug 27, 2002 5:36 am

and I've hurt a lot in my day...or so they tell me.

Velda was scritching out her rendition AC/DC's cover of "Time in a Bottle" as I squished down onto my favorite stool. "Ahh," I thought "Just in time for happy hour."

Phil leaned across the bar and with one quick glance at the puddle drooling off my sea, spat, "Guess you already spoke with Kelly, huh, Loser?"

"Quit yer farting and gimme a carrot guavajava, Juiceboy." I said, "Whattaya know about it?"
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Postby Antarius on Wed Aug 28, 2002 5:48 pm

"Know about what?" he responded, traditionally.

Why the stooge's always have to play dumb, I don't know. We all know that they want money...

But Phil wasn't too smart. Before I could move, let alone pull out a fin, he continued:

"Alright, alright. The letters are coming from the Man himself. Go down to the docks, find the ship called "The fuzzy bunny" and go down to deck 13, room 202
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Postby mouse on Thu Aug 29, 2002 12:55 pm

at least, with any luck, it wouldn't be a big hairy guy in an itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny yellow polka dot bikini.

with my luck it would probably be two of them. with beer bellies. and i'd have to come up with a compliment.

what _did_ you say to a pair of neanderthals with no fashion sense? "those polka dots really compliment the streak down your back"? "i love the way the light sparkles on your belly fur"? or maybe just <urk> "_there's_ my little fuzzy bunny"?

no wonder the guy was tense - or was that terse? and with the stutter, how did he specify that bikini. no, phil was definitely not giving me the straight stuff. but then, what can you expect from a juice bar proprieter?
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Postby Antarius on Thu Aug 29, 2002 5:25 pm

I began to suspect that something was wrotten in Phil's juice bar. Well, at least fermented, anyway...

Not really wanting to see any fat guys, I skipped a chapter and went straight for the bit where I was on a stakeout in front of "Grandma Bigg's House of Phun/Escort Agency."

Realising that they had cast Marlon Brando as Grandma Bigg's, I decided to skip another chapter.


I arrived back at the office. The repairs had gone on while I was out. The stupid signwriter has mis-spelled my name again. "Slaps Forehead" indeed.

The office was dark, so I didn't turn the light off. I walked in and there she was; the love interest of the story. (Hey, I picked this chapter for a reason!)

Sitting at the client's chair in front of my desk, I could make out her outline in the cigarette smoke billowing from the cigarette that was hanging seductively out of her mouth.

(Oi! Props! Put a mirror in there quickly - how can I see the cigarette from the back of 'er 'ead?!)

I coughed and gagged from the cigarette smoke in the most manly manner that I could, as I leaned against the door jam and said "Miss?"

She turned around to face me. Suddenly I had images of Jessica Rabbit flitting through my mind, because...
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Postby mouse on Fri Aug 30, 2002 12:39 pm

i have this major fantasy component in my brain activity. and lord knows, the love of my life has reasons to keep to the dark. i wouldn't say she was unattractive, of course....i do have _some_ self-preservation instincts. and of course, there _was_ her voice - that throaty, husky, raspy, hacking voice....
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Postby Antarius on Fri Aug 30, 2002 8:01 pm

I wiped the phlegm from my face and then popped a chocolate cigarette in my mouth. (Hey, who's silly enough to smoke?)

"Well, toots. Of all the sets, in all of the crappy storylines in the world, and you had to walk into mine..."

This immediately caused me to get slapped around the head by the producer. "No Casablanca references, swine!" It screamed.

Pretending it didn't happen, I siddled up to my chair and sat down. This was a mistake, since it had been upended and I now had one of those little castors firmly implanted where the sun doesn't shine (out of.)

Brushing a tear from my eye, I said (in a high, squeaky voice):

"What can I do for ya?"
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Postby mouse on Sat Aug 31, 2002 10:22 am

"you must help me, slaps" she said, throatily. "i know who's behind the letters - but if he finds out i told anyone, he'll rub me out!" she rose, came toward me, and started doing some rubbing on her own account. "you'll protect me, won't you, slaps?" she purred, nibbling on my ear.

[superscript]"of course"[/superscript] i squeaked. "hrm, hrm - i mean, [subscript][manly letters]of course[/manly letters][/subscript]. now give me the whole kielbasa - urm, the whole story, doll - and no games!"
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Postby Antarius on Sun Sep 01, 2002 5:54 pm

She failed to hide her disappointment as she put away her box of 'Snakes and Ladders,' but I knew I had to be firm. The last time I played, I was hurt. Badly. Never again would I let someone close enough to leave myself that vulnerable again.

I took another look at the pile of letters that were growing on my desk, then I watered them a bit more. I knew that there was no shortage of fertiliser in the near vicinity.

I turned my attention back to my visitor. "I'm still waiting for that story, love."

She sighed, her massive bossoms heaving and bobbing irrelevantly.

"Well, Slaps, it's like this. Once upon a time there were three bears..."
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Postby mouse on Tue Sep 03, 2002 3:37 pm

"nice try, babe" i snarled. "trying to knock me out, eh? planning on slipping me a mickey?"

"no, no, slaps!" she cried, quickly hiding the mouse ears behind her. "not you -- "

i saw that she was actually looking over my shoulder, so i turned and *bonk* *crash**thud*
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Postby Antarius on Tue Sep 03, 2002 5:35 pm

I really should stop standing so close to the wall.

I took a step forward, and then turned. The sight was enough to send shivers down my spine.

Some scumbag had gone and redecorated my office with Modern Art!

While my eyes were bleeding from looking at some of the surreal paintings, she began loosening my clothing to aid my circulation.

<lights fade to close>
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Postby Major Tom on Mon Sep 09, 2002 9:58 pm

But I knew there was a job to be done.

"No now, chica,"I said, using my best, Bogie, non-Casablanca, not-Cuban, yet swarthy South American coy-voice, "not [b]THIS[b] time.

Yeah...

I knew there was a job to be done...

I knew there was a riddle to be solved...

a conundrum to be undrumed...

...who the heck was supposed to pay me for this crap?
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Postby Antarius on Wed Sep 11, 2002 6:18 pm

And what wanker came up with the name "Slaps Forehad?!"

I kicked the woman across the room, flipped over my desk, climbed up onto the rafters, removed 95% of my clothing and began singing "Feelings" in A-Minor.

Wiping the juice from my mouth, I put the glass back on the bar at Phil's - the last few hours had all been imagery and hallucinations from a wonderfully fermented carrot juice.

"Wow!" I said, quite audibly. "That's some kick-arse juice, Phil! What's your secret?!"

He looked side-to-side to make sure nobody was watching, leaned forwards and whispered in a hushed tone:

"I like to put on women's clothing..."
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Postby Major Tom on Wed Nov 13, 2002 6:42 am

"...but that's not important right now. What is important is..."
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Postby Limax on Wed Nov 13, 2002 7:10 am

Oh, sure... go ahead... ressurect old threads and change your avatar... see if I care! :x
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Postby mouse on Wed Nov 13, 2002 12:53 pm

i was somewhat shocked at the phil's response to my face - looking at _his_ wasn't exactly a walk in the park. but i quickly realized he had given me a clue.

the secret to the carrot juice was resurrecting dead threads.

this would explain the smell of the stuff, and also the peculiar ropy texture. the nuances of the taste, though.....that was something else.

'resurrecting'.....could he mean....?
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Postby Limax on Wed Nov 13, 2002 1:08 pm

Yes! He wants to make a QUILT and he ran out of orange fabric!
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Postby mouse on Mon Nov 18, 2002 1:25 pm

talk about a nonsequiter....
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Postby Limax on Tue Nov 19, 2002 9:15 am

with heavy emphasis on the nonsense...
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