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BethU

Extremely helpful member
Joined
May 11, 2008
Messages
2,646
Reason
PALS
Diagnosis
05/2008
Country
US
State
California
City
Los Angeles
The sun first lights the highest peak in this part of the Himalayas five minutes before the lower peaks start to turn rosy with dawn and an hour before the shafts of morning light touch the shadowed valley below.

In a sacred cave in the highest peak, the Great Mystic Rhm Bo opens his crystal-green, all-seeing eyes and peers down at the sleeping valley.

It is The Day. The one day in the century when the village comes to life, and pilgrims from around the world flock to this obscure pocket of Twitchistan to beg a blessing of Rhm Bo, and learn from him the secret of immortal youth and twitch-free living. The secret lies buried in the sacred cave, guarded by Rhm Bo and his devotees.

Also, come the usual suspects to peddle some nostrums to the drooling, twitching pilgrims.

As the village stirs, a quaint little train rumbles into the station, and passengers disembark. First off, dragging a large sack of books, undulates Eric the Self-Proclaimed Winner. “What a loser,” thinks Rhm Bo, twitching a whisker. Amalgam detoxifiers follow, along with vitamin salesmen, massage therapists, colonic cleansers promoters.

As the passengers disembark, an ominous chill undulates up and down Rhm Bo’s fur: There is evil aboard the train. More than one evil-doer. Trouble lies ahead.

A trio of snake oil salesmen jump down next: Kim, PZ, and Mr. Zaphoon, followed by the Divine Rose, a noted faith healer. A pair of twins appear, one dressed in slinky black, obviously going for a Daytime Emmy, and one dressed in modest white. Doktor Professor Wright, the Italian Stallion, appears from the next car, as do Cowboy Barry G, Colleen the Coy, Peter the Aussie Rebel, the Inspirational Capt. Al., the wicked, wicked Glen B., Marjorie and Rick, All-wise Moderator Al, Hal the Marathon Man, Roadie, and a fetching Southern Belle, wearing a hoopskirt, carrying a tiny parasol and displaying plenty of attitude. The whole damn Forum has arrived! There are even two adorable, yappy pups undulating through the crowd. As the train pulls out of the station, an elderly woman falls from the caboose, amid the clatter of metal bedpans.

A tussle breaks out among the Pro-Amalgam and Anti-Amalgam forces, as Joel sets up his “Yummies for the Tummies” Vita-Mix refreshment stand, and Chef Deborah lays out a sidewalk cafe for her Peg-O-Licious Snacks.

The crowd undulates toward the mountain. Who will win the Mystic’s blessing and learn the secret of immortal life and twitch-free living? Who will pedal the most snake oil? Who will get lucky with the Evil Twin, Colleen and Rose?.

Time for meditation. Rhm Bo assumes the powerful yoga position, Cat Licking Balls With One Leg Straight Up in Air.

Suddenly, far below, a shot rings out.
 
The echo of the gunshot reverberated, echoing off of the sheer walls of the mountains, bringing Rhm Bo back from his trance-like state.

Below him, a knot of twitching Forumers formed around the as yet unnamed victim. Was this random, senseless violence? Or a targeted malevolent attack?

The good twin undulated her way into the crowd, eager to do as much good as an untrained but well intentioned lay person could.

Divine Rose, falling back on her former training as a flight attendant, whipped a megaphone out of her valise, and asked if there were any doctors, or those with medical training among them. ...
 
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While Rose is trying to find some medical assistance for the unknown victim, cowboy Barry G and the Aussie rebel Peter are making their way to Chef Deborah's cafe for a expresso and a healthy serve of chocolate cake, before she makes it in to a Peg treat.

Did you see who was shot asked Barry, no i didnt but lets enjoy the moment here sipping coffee as i am sure it is going to get interesting shortly.

Just then a shadow is cast over them, they look up to find someone standing over them breathing heavily.
 
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It was the elderly, bedpan festooned lady who asked "Oh please excuse me but do either of you gentlemen know where a lady can find a room? Cowboy Barry, ever the gentleman, replies "Well I don't know where a lady could find a room but I bet you would be able to find a bunk in the roadhouse that Peter and I were just talking about setting up"

The lady, looking troubled. says "But that will take a long time and I need something now because my twitching is making these bedpans rattle something fierce"

"No worries, I have a tent that I can let you have cheap" chimes in Peter. "I'm Peter, what's your name lady?"

"Miss Marple, and thank you for the offer, I really need to dump these pans somewhere so I can go get started on the case of the mysterious gunshot"

Barry and Peter exchange glances and go back to their drinks.
 
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At the sound of the shot ringing out, PZ ducked under the caboose for cover. Next to him, lay Pat, a person who's gender PZ was still trying to define. PZ couldn't figure if Pat was slightly less endowed for a woman or just a bit too much so for a man. His/her hair was butch-boy short and the face was youthful; no whiskers to be seen. His/her voice teatered on being just a tad high for a man and a tad low for a woman.

Pat was noticeably disturbed and was twitching to high heaven. PZ did not have to guess why his under-the-caboose buddy had made the trip. He/she was in bad need of PZ's own, new (and improved!) anti-twitch cream. He was sure to make at least one good sale this trip!

Pat calmed down just enough to tell PZ that when this scare was all over, he/she was going to find a big, chocolate cake to ingest.
 
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Having left behind the remains of a career gone wrong , Glen looks at the mountains , then looks at the throng of people and animals departing from the train.

Any evil grin , the grin of practiced mischief , spreads across his face .
"Wicked" he murmurs .

Spying the twin dressed to please in the black slinky outfit , he raises an eyebrow and another "Wicked !" passes his lips.

Not knowing why , and not caring , he moves toward the crowd .

Hearing the shot ring out , he steadies himself and resolves to leave this part of his life behind. How to get into those mountains , can it be true that this legendary place exists ? He must find out.
 
While PZ lay under the caboose with Pat, Kim and Zaphoon were conferring with each other regarding "the plan". It was why they had made the trip; why they had come to this God-forsaken part of the earth.

Zaphoon: "Kim, I have all that we need to accomplish our mission right in this bag."

Kim: "Zaph, so, that means you brought the XJ-004 with you?"

Zaphoon: "Huh? No! I brought the older, more reliable model with me!"

Kim: "Just testing... just testing Zaph. Don't get upset."

Their plan was simply to see that this year, no one would be successful in having their twitches forever cured. The experience of achieving the twitch-free life would go unclaimed this year. But then, there was Zaphoon's weakness that had accompanied them on the train and Kim had proven a bit unbalanced of late.
 
Meanwhile Rose has been able to summon the help of the Doktor Wright, who takes one look at the, still un nammed patient and pronounces him dead, from a bullet wound to the head made by a .45 long Colt 220 grain slug.

Rose is astounded that the doktor could be so exact. Has he xray vision, did he see the shooter, was he the shooter?
All these thoughts were going through her head as she hesantly asked him how he knew.
Elementary my dear Rose as he stood up, holding the forementioned gun and 1 empty case.


Back at the cafe, Barry and Peter had finished their drinks and had worked out the plan for the bunkhouse.
It was infact going to more like a resort, containing all of the stalls recently set up in town.

Miss Marple undulated past them, now free of the bedpans and headed back to the group around the body to solve the shooting
 
Time for meditation. Rhm Bo assumes the powerful yoga position, Cat Licking Balls With One Leg Straight Up in Air.

Suddenly, far below, a shot rings out.

Woa , Rhm Bo , realizes that a little more protein is required in his diet. That one ripped the shorts. Good thing he had one leg in the air.

Down below someone has fainted on the platform and people are scurrying for cover. Lets weed out the un-worthy with the natural power of methane. Wait , that's not a fainting , that's a murder.

Come to me my friends - leave the shysters and mockers and ones with lesser morales behind.

OK , let the lesser morales people in , someone has to get up here.
 
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(OMG, too many replies before I could get this posted!) I think we need to cut to commercial or something
 
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Take the Vacation of your life

On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair
Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air
Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light
My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim
I had to stop for the night

There she stood in the doorway;
I heard the mission bell
And I was thinking to myself,
this could be heaven or this could be hell
Then she lit up a candle and she showed me the way
There were voices down the corridor,
I thought I heard them say...

Welcome to the hotel california
Such a lovely place
Such a lovely face
Plenty of room at the hotel california
Any time of year, you can find it here

Her mind is tiffany-twisted, she got the mercedes bends
She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys, that she calls friends
How they dance in the courtyard, sweet summer sweat.
Some dance to remember, some dance to forget

So I called up the captain,
please bring me my wine
He said, we havent had that spirit here since nineteen sixty nine
And still those voices are calling from far away,
Wake you up in the middle of the night
Just to hear them say...

Welcome to the hotel california
Such a lovely place
Such a lovely face
They livin it up at the hotel california
What a nice surprise, bring your alibis

Mirrors on the ceiling,
The pink champagne on ice
And she said we are all just prisoners here, of our own device
And in the masters chambers,
They gathered for the feast
The stab it with their steely knives,
But they just cant kill the beast

Last thing I remember, I was
Running for the door
I had to find the passage back
To the place I was before
relax, said the night man,
We are programmed to receive.
You can checkout any time you like,
But you can never leave!
 
Glen, I love the Eagles! (was this the commercial break?)
 
Yeah , I thought the never leave part fit in with the theme.
 
Peter turns to Barry and says "I've got a great (stolen) idea!:idea::idea::idea:

"Let's call our new bunkhouse Hotel Arizona and the Presidential Suite will be named The Beagles cause it is sure to be a dog of a place the way you build"

"Right on" says Chico, one of the undulating but not twitching pooches. "And the restaurant can be called the Schnoodle Cafe" adds Ernie, wagging his almost nonexistent tail enthusiastically.
 
Miss Marple surveys the scene, her little mauve scarves fluttering in the breeze.

"Normally, this would be a case for Scotland Yard," she murmurs, "but since we're in Twitchistan, that is out of their jurisdiction. Let me just enjoy a sip of sassparilla rum swizzle from the maestro at the VitaMix stand, and I'll see what I can do."

The crowd waits, except for wicked Glen, who has disappeared into the caboose with Colleen. He hangs out a sign: "If this train's a'rockin', don't come a'knockin'." The caboose begins to undulate to a classic Eagles beat.

Miss Marple returns, rum in hand. "The victim is someone named Pat. His/Her gender is unknown, but an autopsy may reveal clues to that. The important question is, What was he/she/it doing here, today of all days?"

Exclamations of surprise ripple through the crowd. "How did you know his/her/its name?" someone asks.

"It's clearly visible on the ID bracelet he, she or it is wearing."

"Remarkable! But who shot him, her or it?"

"Someone in, under or near the caboose!" Miss Marple cries dramatically, pointing to the caboose, which is rocking so hard it threatens to derail the train.

PZ, Kim, Zaphoon and the other Pat of indeterminate gender scramble from under the caboose and run for the trail up the mountain. A crowd of heavy-breathing village women with pitchforks undulates after them.

Barry G eyes the Divine Rose. "Looking to bunk down for the night, Miss?" the Canadian Cowboy asks. "I can help." Peter steps in front of him. "Miss, I will be glad to accommodate you, and show you what Aussie men are made of." He glares at Barry. Doktor Professor Wright steps between them, offering his arm to the lovely faith healer. "Not so fast, gents. I believe Miss Rose is waiting for me and some fine Eye-talian loving. Giddyup."
 
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