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R. Linda:
Oh I know, I know, I read the 'Code' and then because I was dared to go on, read Angels and Demons and I was thinking I be reading Code again, or vice versa. I was thinking how to make the Demon book more interesting, because it was so serious. And you know me, I find humour in everything, so hoping Mr. Brown won't mind me doing this, I changed his story up a wee bit and made it more Irish? So here it be for those who don't have a serious bone in their body, and don't want to be bothered reading between the lines.
CAVILLOR & DESIPO
By Gilbert (I mean) Gabriel O'Sullivan
Chapter 1
I had a hard day. I had worked me eyeballs bloody researching symbols for the artist formerly known as Prince and I was pooped. I came up dry on the first round of trying to figure out how you'd pronounce the new name, and this set me addled brain on knackered mode. Soon I was spiraling into the land of deep sleep, when the phone rang in the dead of night and I had to scrape meself off me ceiling to answer it.
The voice was cryptic on the other end. It said it was a famous world renown scientific mind at a secret scientific instillation, at a secret place somewhere in Switzerland. It said something of the utmost importance had occurred and a plane was being sent to bring me there because it involved symbols that needed interpretation and lo and behold, I was the man for the job!
Anything, I thought to meself, besides sitting here day in and day out looking at that Prince symbol.
I hurriedly put on me best tweed jacket with the elbow patches, and me parachute pants and rushed out to the airport. There was a fella waiting for me. I was taken aback because he was dressed like an astronaut, but well ok maybe he was pretending he was one. As soon as he shoved out his hand in greeting and said me name, I knew by his Swiss accent he was the right pilot, and off I went with him. What I didn't expect was the space shuttle waiting on the launch pad out back of the runways. I was suited up in no time and strapped in -- off we launched. I gotta tell ya it was the G force that glued me tongue to the roof of me mouth, me eyeballs to the back of me skull and me stomach to the tips of me toes, so I wasn't able to shout over to me pilot that this was a bloody great way to travel!
Within seconds of our ascent we started a descent. I think I was airborne all of 3 seconds. We landed in Switzerland right at the scientific complex and I was unstrapped, de-suited and ushered into the presence of the famous world renown scientific expert, Maximum Cooler. This guy was in a wheelchair that was equipped with telly monitors, papers, telephone equipment, a spy satellite dish, seven screens that were monitoring the complex, a red button to blow it all up if the need arose, and an electric lollypop holder so he could suck on his sucker while the headphones he wore played techno music so alarmingly loud, I could hear it from where I be standing.
He shouted at me that there had been an incident of major proportions that needed my attention pronto. So off I ran after his electric chair at a pace of say 60 miles per hour. I have to say I be glad all that Buddhist Yoga paid off and made me supple enough to be able to keep up.
Once inside the complex I was led up to a smokey room. Only it wasn't smoke it was swirling dry ice and I felt like I had entered Dracula's castle, and would have been convinced I had, but when we reached the object that needed my expertise --the spookiness disappeared and was replaced by horror. There in a pool of black congealed blood was a huge haggis! On it was branded the words, "Eat me" in Gaelic. Of course, me being of a Gaelic race, I knew what it said, but to this nice Jewish man he had not a clue. He didn't even know it was a haggis he was looking at. I blurted out, "A dead haggis!" Before I could say anymore and inform him what the brand stood for, he turned his chair almost on it's axel and looked up at me with a frown.
"What in God's little acre is a haggis?"
"It be a wild and wiley animal that runs amuck in Scotland," said I. "They are very hard to catch and brand. But seems someone did and I wonder how this particular haggis got to Swizerland the land of chocolate candy and Swiss cheese."
Maybe it was in reverence for the dead haggis, I dunno, but we stood and sat there respectively, in almost complete silence (except for his headphones blaring that techno crap), and stared down at the late Scottish delicacy.
"Do you suppose it felt much pain? I mean, do you think the perpetrator branded it while it was still alive, or do you think it was after?" Cooler asked me, he eyes filing with tears for the poor dead haggis.
"Well, I kind of think because of all the dried blood, it was done before it was ended. Just look at the scorching and all those bubbles around the brand where the casing filled with hot air and exploded."
Cooler burst into tears and I had to manueover around all the technical equipment to try to get an arm around his skinny shoulders in sympathy.
"If it is any consolation it looks like the brand is a form of communication." I spoke softly waiting for his tears to abate.
"I have to show you something," he sniffed at me suddenly, and before I could detach me arm from his skinny shoulders and the equipment on his chair, he flew off nearly dislocating me shoulder and almost taking me hand from above the wrist with him. Yanking me arm away just in the nick I ran after him, but he had a good 200 yards on me. I have to say it was hard tracking him in all that swirling dry ice, but once out the door I could see the red taillights on his chair and gave it me all to catch him up.
When I did, I found meself in a tunnel where the wind was buffeting me nicely combed hair into me sparkling blue eyes. I had a devil of a time keeping up with him, after all he had that electric chair and I had only the strong muscles of me well developed thighs to help push me along that bloody tunnel, not to mention the drag of me parachute pants was at the very least causing me to slow down by 20%.
Finally we got to a wall with a secret door. You needed to look into a microscope thingie and it would take an imprint of the eyeball to make sure you were who you were and authorised to enter. However, Cooler had a case of conjunctivitis in both eyes so he didn't want to put his eyeball near the lens and contaminate it. What to do? We were in luck because at the base of the door I just happened to spy a bloody eyeball. I picked it up and said, "Will this do?"
He nodded and a big smile crossed his bony face for the first time in all the minutes I knew him. I slapped the eye onto the lens and voila, the door slid open. I wasn't ready for what I saw inside.
End chapter 1
Gabe
Copyright © 2005 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
Oh I know, I know, I read the 'Code' and then because I was dared to go on, read Angels and Demons and I was thinking I be reading Code again, or vice versa. I was thinking how to make the Demon book more interesting, because it was so serious. And you know me, I find humour in everything, so hoping Mr. Brown won't mind me doing this, I changed his story up a wee bit and made it more Irish? So here it be for those who don't have a serious bone in their body, and don't want to be bothered reading between the lines.
CAVILLOR & DESIPO
By Gilbert (I mean) Gabriel O'Sullivan
Chapter 1
I had a hard day. I had worked me eyeballs bloody researching symbols for the artist formerly known as Prince and I was pooped. I came up dry on the first round of trying to figure out how you'd pronounce the new name, and this set me addled brain on knackered mode. Soon I was spiraling into the land of deep sleep, when the phone rang in the dead of night and I had to scrape meself off me ceiling to answer it.
The voice was cryptic on the other end. It said it was a famous world renown scientific mind at a secret scientific instillation, at a secret place somewhere in Switzerland. It said something of the utmost importance had occurred and a plane was being sent to bring me there because it involved symbols that needed interpretation and lo and behold, I was the man for the job!
Anything, I thought to meself, besides sitting here day in and day out looking at that Prince symbol.
I hurriedly put on me best tweed jacket with the elbow patches, and me parachute pants and rushed out to the airport. There was a fella waiting for me. I was taken aback because he was dressed like an astronaut, but well ok maybe he was pretending he was one. As soon as he shoved out his hand in greeting and said me name, I knew by his Swiss accent he was the right pilot, and off I went with him. What I didn't expect was the space shuttle waiting on the launch pad out back of the runways. I was suited up in no time and strapped in -- off we launched. I gotta tell ya it was the G force that glued me tongue to the roof of me mouth, me eyeballs to the back of me skull and me stomach to the tips of me toes, so I wasn't able to shout over to me pilot that this was a bloody great way to travel!
Within seconds of our ascent we started a descent. I think I was airborne all of 3 seconds. We landed in Switzerland right at the scientific complex and I was unstrapped, de-suited and ushered into the presence of the famous world renown scientific expert, Maximum Cooler. This guy was in a wheelchair that was equipped with telly monitors, papers, telephone equipment, a spy satellite dish, seven screens that were monitoring the complex, a red button to blow it all up if the need arose, and an electric lollypop holder so he could suck on his sucker while the headphones he wore played techno music so alarmingly loud, I could hear it from where I be standing.
He shouted at me that there had been an incident of major proportions that needed my attention pronto. So off I ran after his electric chair at a pace of say 60 miles per hour. I have to say I be glad all that Buddhist Yoga paid off and made me supple enough to be able to keep up.
Once inside the complex I was led up to a smokey room. Only it wasn't smoke it was swirling dry ice and I felt like I had entered Dracula's castle, and would have been convinced I had, but when we reached the object that needed my expertise --the spookiness disappeared and was replaced by horror. There in a pool of black congealed blood was a huge haggis! On it was branded the words, "Eat me" in Gaelic. Of course, me being of a Gaelic race, I knew what it said, but to this nice Jewish man he had not a clue. He didn't even know it was a haggis he was looking at. I blurted out, "A dead haggis!" Before I could say anymore and inform him what the brand stood for, he turned his chair almost on it's axel and looked up at me with a frown.
"What in God's little acre is a haggis?"
"It be a wild and wiley animal that runs amuck in Scotland," said I. "They are very hard to catch and brand. But seems someone did and I wonder how this particular haggis got to Swizerland the land of chocolate candy and Swiss cheese."
Maybe it was in reverence for the dead haggis, I dunno, but we stood and sat there respectively, in almost complete silence (except for his headphones blaring that techno crap), and stared down at the late Scottish delicacy.
"Do you suppose it felt much pain? I mean, do you think the perpetrator branded it while it was still alive, or do you think it was after?" Cooler asked me, he eyes filing with tears for the poor dead haggis.
"Well, I kind of think because of all the dried blood, it was done before it was ended. Just look at the scorching and all those bubbles around the brand where the casing filled with hot air and exploded."
Cooler burst into tears and I had to manueover around all the technical equipment to try to get an arm around his skinny shoulders in sympathy.
"If it is any consolation it looks like the brand is a form of communication." I spoke softly waiting for his tears to abate.
"I have to show you something," he sniffed at me suddenly, and before I could detach me arm from his skinny shoulders and the equipment on his chair, he flew off nearly dislocating me shoulder and almost taking me hand from above the wrist with him. Yanking me arm away just in the nick I ran after him, but he had a good 200 yards on me. I have to say it was hard tracking him in all that swirling dry ice, but once out the door I could see the red taillights on his chair and gave it me all to catch him up.
When I did, I found meself in a tunnel where the wind was buffeting me nicely combed hair into me sparkling blue eyes. I had a devil of a time keeping up with him, after all he had that electric chair and I had only the strong muscles of me well developed thighs to help push me along that bloody tunnel, not to mention the drag of me parachute pants was at the very least causing me to slow down by 20%.
Finally we got to a wall with a secret door. You needed to look into a microscope thingie and it would take an imprint of the eyeball to make sure you were who you were and authorised to enter. However, Cooler had a case of conjunctivitis in both eyes so he didn't want to put his eyeball near the lens and contaminate it. What to do? We were in luck because at the base of the door I just happened to spy a bloody eyeball. I picked it up and said, "Will this do?"
He nodded and a big smile crossed his bony face for the first time in all the minutes I knew him. I slapped the eye onto the lens and voila, the door slid open. I wasn't ready for what I saw inside.
End chapter 1
Gabe
Copyright © 2005 All rights reserved
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