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"Just who are all these characters," you ask? Find out at Claudia's Who's Who
(the Beginning of it all!) Please read from the bottom of the page up!
Mr. I:
You must know that neither Renie nor Mary Anne - nor any of the ladies I've had the
pleasure to meet and come to know here - would be attracted to your truly fiendish self.
Do not compare me with you. I am, or was, an exceptional thief. * I* do not condone
torture for torture's sake, I always have a point. Pity I cannot say the same for you.
You have been released - make no mistake - you did not escape. Persist at your true peril.
And you don't know a thing about cl othes.
Hans Gruber
Renie's guestroom, USA - 07/07/97 at 17:02:06
To whomever is sitting up with the Colonel tonight (I would myself, but I'm ever so slightly tired): screen very carefully any cards, get-well gifts, etc. that may arrive--especially floral arrangements. With those, be sure to wear a respirato r.
And Mr. I, if you're watching--as I'm sure you are--you have seen the posts concerning
what will happen to you if you cross our path again. Gruesome fate, even for the likes of
you. Do take the hint and stay away. And if you make any more attempts on the Colonel, I
assure you that you will make medical history.
Mary Anne
USA - 07/07/97 at 17:01:22
Kate - Jealousy, like revenge should have no bounds - a car, a chair, a bannister, a
cello. It's a sickness, I know, but I'm being treated here. Glad you're back. No, Mary
Anne, we didn't miss that one (throwing scones), we saved it, painful pun tha t it is, for
you, Queen (Mary) Anne of the puns...
Renie <reniept@hotmail.comfoo>
CA, USA - 07/07/97 at 16:53:16
Kate--as to the women who intrigue me, why should you be so surprised that I share certain characteristics with Herr Gruber? We admire strength, courage, spirit--where is the sport in breaking weakness? No challenge, no charm.
As to you, Mary Anne- -later for you. [Mockingly]"Was ever woman in this humour
wooed? Was ever woman in this humour won? I'll have her, but I will not keep her long . .
." Sooner or later . . . we still have much to discuss.
The Interrogator
Well hidden, - 07/07/97 at 16:25:26
Kate -- WONDERFUL idea about the clothes. And after we had gotten him into, hmm, let's
see, electric lime green elephant-leg bell bottoms, a white suede vest with cunning little
patterns in rhinestones and 8" fringes, and very tall platform shoes, we c ould
attach them to him permanently with superglue...
Sofia
USA - 07/07/97 at 16:21:31
Hmmm . . . that gives me an idea. If Mr. I falls into my hands, I'll treat him to a
round of my very worst puns. (Rickmaniacs all shiver, avert their eyes, cover their ears,
make various signs against evil.) Too much, you think?
Mary Anne
USA - 07/07/97 at 16:18:25
Kate--you have nothing to fear from me. After all, people who live in (shoot the?)glass
houses shouldn't throw scones . . . (Admit it, you've missed this!!)
Mary Anne
USA - 07/07/97 at 15:45:33
Renie, he doesn't touch the car, he caresses it!! It's terrible to be jealous of an
inanimate object. *sigh*
Kate
Alexandria, VA USA - 07/07/97 at 15:44:04
Well, you have all certainly been...busy...during my absence. For heaven's sake keep that Doctor away from our dear Colonel. The last thing he needs is to be bled!!! Some nice thick stock to build him back up should help.
On a different not e, has anyone else noticed that Mr. I. tends to be drawn to women whom Hans admires enough to notice? Do you think that it's possible that Mr. I. is jealous of the teutonic terror? (We love you Hans - but you are a terror none the less.) Just a thought. :-) As for exacting our revenge, I write poetry that would make the Vogons wretch. It would be "poetic justice" to torture him with wretched verse (Kate dives as Mary Anne throws a scone at her with terrifying accuracy.) I also think that blac k ladies' knickers and 1970's outerwear are apropriate. The knickers so that we can call him a closet whore and the 70's fasions because he seems to appreciate fine clothing as much as Hans does and the clothing of the 70's is incomparably ugly. How bet ter to torture him than to make him feel foolish and out of control. Oh, and maybe we should set up a cold pitcher of water *just* out of his reach... Just suggestions off the top of my head. I'll put my mind to it and try to come up with something r eally diabolical.
It's really wonderful to be back. I've missed you all dreadfully.
Kate
Alexandria, VA USA - 07/07/97 at 15:39:54
And Mary Anne - SHIVERS!!! - Does he touch the car? I didn't remember! Acckkk! Thanks
for the debt payment - worth the wait!!
R
CA, USA - 07/07/97 at 15:27:06
Sofia - Ooooohhh. Nice tortuous thoughts. A loop of JLS or Hallmark - equally nasty.
Keeping that bunch under control is going to be problem for Mrs. Jennings; help is needed
or they'll have to go somewhere else. Couldn't we at least change the Sher iff's clothes
so they don't stand out? (But pleeeeeaaase, don't cut that wonderful hair!) And
"commit a mural" - I love that.
Renie
CA, USA - 07/07/97 at 15:24:10
Herr Gruber:
Please extend my warmest thanks to all who helped avert disaster. Without the aid of you
all, I cannot entertain the thoughts of what could have - what surely would have -
happened. And you, in particular, have acquitted yourself no t only a brave man, but a man
who is capable of great things. First, you swore off revenge on me, then you chose to
allow a man who was once an ally of yours to go free, when violence would have seemed your
only resort.
I know your past. The past is an animal which haunts us, and is not easily shaken off. I
know this only too well. While I commend your recent actions, I would be remiss if I did
not inquire about your intentions towards Miss Renie. She is quite headstrong and not
easily misled, but you seem to have - forgive the word - captivated her.
Perhaps you would care to elaborate in a man-to-man mannner. A note will do. Again, my
thanks, and I hope you do not take offense at my concern and care.
Colonel Brandon
Room H, County Hospital - 07/07/97 at 15:16:06
Sofia, you certainly show promise. Kein mitleid! *
Translation: No mercy.
Hans
Renie's guestroom, USA - 07/07/97 at 15:03:08
And Renie, about the fictional characters: I've arranged a safe house where most of
them have stashed their gear. However, it's in a midwestern state, which prudence forbids
me to name, and some of the neighbors are beginning to get curious about them, especially
the more, um, colorful characters. Only the vigilance of Mrs. Jennings, who we brought
with us, has prevented George from wreaking havoc; and I'm not sure how much longer she
can restrain him. Ed has been preoccupied with the computers, but no w that the worst is
over he is beginning to look longingly at the neighbors' monochromatic walls, and I think
that if we don't do something he might commit a mural. So I think we'd better figure out
other arrangements.
Sofia
USA - 07/07/97 at 15:01:28
Oh, and Renie--double-bonus reference to pay for my earlier transgressions. 1) AR
caressing the car in CME: "It's such a beautiful car, I just can't help it."
2)Later, same film: stroking Natalie's leg and tending to her various scratches. You see,
I d o pay my debts. 8-) Is the court satisfied, Your Honor? Hope so, because I certainly
don't want to leave The Interrogator another opening . . .
Mary Anne, again
USA - 07/07/97 at 14:59:09
I propose (seconded by Sinclair) that the next time we get the Interrogator in our
power, we turn his own methods against him. We might, for instance, lock him in the
Nakatomi vault with a tape recorder playing an audio version of, oh, say, Jonathan Li
vingston Seagull set on 'infinite loop'; or perhaps a judicious selection of the verses
from Hallmark cards...
Sofia
USA - 07/07/97 at 14:53:20
I dunno, the mind can do strange things - maybe after all Mr. I's sessions he doesn't
know the difference, or...best not to go there. Ummm.. onto more practical matters - what
are we going to do with all these fictional characters? Fox and Dana are back in D.C. Hans
is thrilled that he is finally a free man; he is staying in my guest room (honestly!)
until he makes further plans (you know him - he's still such planner) I haven't talked
with the others - are they returning home (respectively) or is someone else putting the
others up? Of course Brandon can't be moved for now. I foresee lots of hosptial visits by
those who visit this page.
Renie
CA, USA - 07/07/97 at 14:53:13
So, Renie, it appears Mr. I has once again slipped our nets. He must have been
absolutely terrified at the prospect of what we might do to him. Wonder why . . . ;-) As
to how much I remember of the interrogation-by-poetry: Everything . . . including so me
brilliantly unorthodox tactical maneuvering by my fellow Rickmaniacs and the fictional
brigade. Well done, all! But now we're back to the familiar refrain: watch out for Mr. I .
. .
Y'know, Renie, regarding that "your bedchamber" line: Mr. I has be en so zealous
in his pursuit, I can't help wondering about something. You'll remember he did this same
bit to me back at the first party (yes, Hans, I forgive you ; you couldn't have known what
giving me to Mr. I would lead to back then). When I was roped into that chair, hearing
that voice . . . well, I just wonder if he could have gotten the wrong impression. You
know, mistaken my cries of agony for, er, um . . . cries of something else. Nahhh. Forget
it. He's heard enough screaming to know the d ifference . . .
Mary Anne
USA - 07/07/97 at 14:43:06
All eyes on Mr. I as the crowd ponders the infinte variety. But at last, Mr. I closes
his syes, laughs, and is permitted to leave the room. A great cheer for the plot undone.
Jamie, what would we do without you! We are all *most* relieved that t he wound the
Colonel received was not serious. But it was too close a call!! Mary Anne, I'm sorry my
attempt at rescue with Ed ended when the interrogator heard Ed's walkie-talkie go off! (It
was Hans saying that he was in position and ready to blow th e roof.) And sheesh, you
really *can* do Lady Anne - but I bet you don't remember much of the torture play with
that scoundrel. I'm not sure I would have let him go, but Hans seems to know what he's
doing. The Colonel is so brave! Maybe once he's recov ered we can have a party. We can
plan what to do to Mr. I. the next time he crosses the line.... And even I got a weird
sense of time warp and distortion on events without being drugged! Strange how things
happen....
Renie
CA, USA - 07/07/97 at 14:20:11
Yes, the split is definitely resolving itself. The excess W.Q. (Weird Quotient) merely
created a temporal disarrangement--all the events are there, but temporarily out of order.
Fortunately, the advanced minds in Rickmania can tolerate the stresses of making the
necessary adjustments. Another crisis averted, and another event for the files of that
most unusual human--what is his name again?--oh, yes, Fox Mulder.
Celestial Operators, Inc.
Proxima Centauri - 07/07/97 at 14:10:21
At this, The Interrogator's nerve breaks entirely. "NO!" he screams. "Don't give me to them, Brandon! You don't know what they'll do to me!"
Brandon gives him a chilly stare, like the wind from an ice floe. "I should think it is quite obvious that I do know. And it's no more than you deserve."
The Interrogator turns to MA, still trying his powers, even when all is lost: "Mary Anne--'no beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity!' "
If Brandon's gaze was cold, hers is absolute zero. Mock ingly, " 'But I know none . . . and therefore am no beast!' Ladies, he's all ours . . ."
So, ladies--what's the verdict?
???
- 07/07/97 at 14:04:13
"Mary Anne, he cannot escape forever." (Hans turns to the real Brandon),
"but let him go for now - it is a matter of inconvenient timing." Brandon, Mary
Anne and all in attendance concur; Renie, sensing Hans' sagacity in such matters,
collapses into his arms, unable to compose herself over the events of the last days and -
OH! The Colonel! He was hurt! Renie joins Mary Anne at the Colonel's side. Taking Hans
aside, the Sheriff remarks, "It seems you are not alone in this woman's affections.
Why is she so special?" "I am not sure myself, but I must win her, whatever I
must do." Police and medics on the scene, Brandon, becoming weak, is carried out on a
stretcher, and whisked to hospital. A room has been arranged for him. Comfortable now, he
loo ks up and sees Renie, trying to leave quietly from the room. "Renie,
thank-you." A knowing flicker crosses her face, as she closes the door. Mary Anne
enters and touches the Colonel's fingers, gently as he drifts off into a well-earned
sleep....
Renie
Getting tea, The hospital - 07/07/97 at 13:57:56
Let it be known here that I forego my personal revenge against the man who calls
himself The Interrogator. I choose instead to follow the proposal of Miss Mary Anne, to
wit: that, for his injuries to various persons among you, The Interrogator be hande d over
to the judgement of the ladies. Sofia, Claudia, Kate, Renie, Emma, Lisa, Mary Anne, all of
you and more--his fate rests with you. Discuss it among yourselves and, when you have
agreed upon the outcome, rest assured that your judgment shall be carri ed out--in full.
As soon as I have recovered . . .
Christopher Brandon
- 07/07/97 at 13:54:04
Free at last, free at last (rubbing at wrists)...thanks so much, Renie and ??? and all
the rest of you. And would someone please get those orchids out of here?! Thanks. Now . .
. oh, my poor Colonel! Get help, someone. No, Colonel, I meant what I said. Don't kill
him. Don't stain your sword with blood like that, the filth would never come off.
(Whispering in the Colonel's ear) You agree? Very well. (Turning to face Interrogator) For
what you have done to the Colonel, I should kill you with my bare hand s . . . and I think
you'd prefer that to what we have in mind . . . [evil grin]
Mary Anne
USA - 07/07/97 at 13:45:00
Jamie materializes at Mr. I's elbow. For a ghost, he has a remarkably firm grip. With
the aid of Hans and Elliott, The Interrogator is hauled before the Colonel.
"Before I kill you, sir," rasps Brandon, "perhaps you would explain
this--resemblance to myself?"
The Interrogator grins mockingly. "Shame, Colonel--your sword on a defenseless
man?"
"Shame, sir!" returns the Colonel. "Your strength against defenseless
women? ANSWER!"
"I think you'll find" returns Mr. I, "that after days of heari ng my voice
come from your face . . . Mary Anne's feelings for you may have changed . . ."
Bang on cue, MA opens her eyes, regards the two of them steadily, and without hestiating
for an instant, whispers--looking straight at Brandon: "Colonel . . ." Sighs of
relief all around, which stop when she adds: "The Interrogator--don't kill him . .
."
The Rickmaniacs exchange worried glances. The onset of Stockholm Syndrome, in which
captive identifies with captor? Worse yet, a case of Rickman synd rome--in which a woman
is happy to be the captive of any of AR's characters, no matter how villainous?
Dev has worked his magic on MA's shackles, and she slowly rises, rubbing the circulation
back into her wrists. "Don't kill him," she repeats. Then, w ith a glower
straight at the Interrogator: "I have a better idea . . ."
???
- 07/07/97 at 13:36:13
Continuity is only one tree in the grove of creativity.
AR, The Director
Here, Now - 07/07/97 at 13:35:04
As the charlatan Brandon wrestles with Jamie, the others advance to pick up weapons and
untie the captives. Pandemonium. The bedecked interrogator manages to fire another shot
Brandon's way - the Colonel flinches - he is HIT!!! More coward than villa in, the
interrogator exits through a last mirrored door. Mary Anne is crazy with grief, horror,
stumbling in her drugged state to figure out what is real....Renie has whispered something
to Mary Anne and run off with the Sheriff and a very large sword - S panish steel, of
course - through a maze of mirrors.
We see the Colonel, with Mary Anne at his side. "Mary Anne, you're safe. I could not
rest until I knew that you were unharmed, but you're crying..."
Renie
Room 132A, Now - 07/07/97 at 13:30:39
Message received, CO. Great Magellanic Clouds!! I thought that (shudder) torture by
poetry had been banned throughout the civilzed galaxy! I had hoped to never see such
horror again.
Amnesty Intergalactic
- 07/07/97 at 13:25:29
Oh, asteroids, I thought we were goners. See this meter? For a few nanojiffys, the
weirdness quotient in Rickmania exceeded even their tolerance levels. Looks like the
rupture is tending to itself, though. Keep an eye on those gauges, and let's hope no one
attempts time travel . . .
Celestial Operators, Inc.
Proxima Centauri - 07/07/97 at 13:23:01
The booming voice continues: "Do you think I haven't prepared myself for this
eventuality? You underestimate me, Colonel. But before you learn what physical pain I can
arrange you all, I'd like to finish our little play, correct, Mary Anne? Where w ere we?
(We see Mary Anne, who looks woozy - not herself - a vase of Black Orchids towers in a
vase nearby.)
Mr. I: Let me send your Colonel to heaven, for he is fitter for that place than earth.
Mary Anne: And thou unfit for apy place but... .
Mr. I. (Interrupting) Tsk, tsk. ONE place else, (so very evil here) if you will hear me
name it.
Mary Anne: Some dungeon.
Mr. I: Your bedchamber.
Brandon cannot restrain himself any longer, draws a sword and lunges forward towar ds the
divan. He swings his sword wildly about, breaking sheets of glass. Suddenly, the masterful
voice of Hans fills the room, "Shoot the glass!" Elliot fires. SMASH! The
interrogator leaps out from behind the two-way glass with shards raining on his head!! He
has a pistol, pointed at the helpless trio on the divan. Elliot and the others drop their
weapons. Mr. I: "Goodbye, Brandon." As he squeezes the trigger, his arm lurches
violently off-target, as if some unseen foe had flung it backwards.
Renie
CA, USA - 07/07/97 at 13:13:21
Oh, no! Conflicting posts! A timestream split--alternative destinies! Whatever shall we
do?!
???
- 07/07/97 at 13:03:33
No more than token resistance at this point, which flees in panic at the sight of the Colonel's face: cold, implacable, set like granite. If looks could kill, the remaining guards would be hauled out in bags. (Well, folks, you did wonder what Brandon w ould be like if he lost his temper. Seen enough?)
The glass door looms up: cell 132A. The lock is giving M. de Valera a bit of trouble, so Renie shouts to Hans, "SHOOT THE GLASS!" and Hans is only too happy to oblige. The doorframe collapses. The crowd of milling Rickmaniacs and characters make way for the Colonel, who bursts into 132A--and freezes in utter horror.
Mary Anne is--mirabile dictu--conscious, but slumped, her eyes completely blank. Standing beside her chair--it can only be The In terrogator, but everyone blinks, does classic double-take.
Brandon slowly advances, one hand on his sword, his face as white as death.
He is confronting a mirror image of himself.
???
- 07/07/97 at 13:00:52
The Colonel's last words reverberate through every body which has been suddenly stilled
by the power of this voice. THUNK!! Whurrr...A large grey electronic door which seemed to
be a wall is sliding into the recesses of the ceiling, revealing a most piteous sight. The
exquisitie cloth of a lovely divan canot be seen for the bodies which are bound and
strapped to it: sitting on the end is Mary Anne, behind her is Ed, looking morose, behind
him is Renie, strangely silent. A voice cuts into the room, "You have disturbed my
reading, Colonel Brandon; there is no corporeal body which holds this devilish voice.
Brandon and the others dare not move until Mr. I reveals himself. Brandon notices that
Hans is not among the captives.
Renie <reniept@hotmail.comfoo>
CA, USA - 07/07/97 at 12:54:48
Mulder: It's weird all right - like that e-mail message from "Ed" - I hooked
him up with my pals to bust into this joint - I think there must be an alien locked in
room #132A,, it all ties in somehow...(Listens intently through headset) What the.....d
oes this mean anything to you? (Hands Scully headset, which she fits into one ear - Mary
Anne's voice: "Foul devil, for God's sake - hence and trouble us not!")
Smoking Man's Surveillance Team
Across the street, - 07/07/97 at 12:38:22
Noel - "Mad" call I it, for to define true madness, what is't but to be
nothing else but mad?...
Renie
CA, USA - 07/07/97 at 12:25:13
Where is he? WHERE IS HE?!?!
Christopher Brandon
Avenging Angel, USA - 07/07/97 at 11:25:26
You have all "run mad" Not that I'd have it any other way!
Noel
USA - 07/07/97 at 10:43:56
Scene of utter mayhem at the Interrogator's hideout. There's no keeping Hans from his detonators this time ; the roof is blown and rescuers are flocking in. Guards who thought themselves prepared for anything break and run at the unexpected appearances of Jamie ; Elliott is calmly picking them off one by one at the exits ; The Sheriff, Hamlet, Tybalt, and Valmont are wreaking havoc as "The Four Swordsmen of the Apocalypse."
Suddenly a hush falls over the scene at the appearance of . . . a man on a motorcycle.
He is in uniform, fully armed, battle-ready.
Colonel Brandon has arrived at last. [Soundtrack up full in the background: "O,
Fortuna . . . velut luna . . . statu variabilis . . . !"]
???
- 07/07/97 at 10:34:03
Mulder, this is getting awfully strange . . . there's dozens of them closing in now,
and some of them appear to be . . . fictional. At least four guys with swords . . . this
is too weird, even for your files.
Agent Dana Scully
Watching through binoculars, USA - 07/07/97 at 09:51:39
Renie: if you can get word to Hans, tell him I've broken into The Interrogator's main
system. Follow the trace I'm putting out through his computers, triangulate, and close in.
I'm failing out the electromagnetics as well, so Jamie should be able to pa ss through now
with no trouble. Tell Hans to blow the roof when he arrives (but try not to destroy the
entire building). Operation "Ode to Joy" is go ; I repeat, "Ode to
Joy" is go. Oh, and tell Hans as well that I've tidied over that little matter about
the hotel, so his record is now clean all over the world. See you all at
"Interrogator Central" ASAP!
Ed
- 07/07/97 at 09:46:13
Hmmm . . . what astonishing powers of resistance. I can see that I shall have to move
on to Shakespeare. Why Mary Anne, whatever is the trouble? You look as if you'd seen a
ghost. Your friend Jamie, perhaps? An original attempt, but even a ghost would have
difficulty passing the electromagnetic disruption fields around this cell. Why yes, come
to think of it, it is 132A. I thought it would be appropriate. The defenses were
[darkly]enhanced after the Colonel's departure. Now . . . must I move on to Richard III?
Very well, you leave me no choice. Act I, scene ii . . .
The Interrogator
A step ahead, - 07/06/97 at 17:05:38
Miss Renie, thanks be to heaven that you remain unharmed by that brute. Herr Gruber, my
thanks. Meanwhile, we must bend our efforts to locate and rescue Miss Mary Anne. When I
think of her in that place . . .[Violent effort at self-control] And remembe r, when we
find this man who calls himself The Interrogator: he is mine.
Colonel Brandon
- 07/06/97 at 15:48:10
My. All of this is most entertaining, the more so for its utter futility.
Colonel Brandon: before you make any rash attempts against me, remember that I still have Mary Anne in my custody--in a place you will have great difficulty in locating, or ge tting her out of if you do locate it. You remember, do you, your time in my domain? I thought you might. Kindly remember, Colonel, that we bear a striking physical resemblance to each other (and for some odd reason, that fellow Gruber has it as wel l . . .) MA holds you in such high esteem--allow me to point out that the ways in which I could exploit our resemblance could prove most . . . troubling for her if you persist. Now . . . I think I'll investigate a little further her peculiar sensit ivity to certain voices . . . [Faint smile]
[Click of glass door opening, closing. Interrogator's voice: "I think perhaps some Spenser today . . ."]
[Background noise, barely audible: soft weeping]
The Interrogator
Beyond your reach, - 07/06/97 at 15:12:12
Joan, you saw these guys in New York State? Man! They're really going to have to hurry
if they happen to be coming to my film festival!! I'm in British Columbia! But I wonder
how they knew about it. I only just decided a couple of min utes ago that I was even
having it! Perhaps I could postpone it until later. I'm sure Jamie and I could think of
another way to occupy ourselves in the meantime.
Debbie
Canada - 07/06/97 at 14:13:33
Jamie, sweetheart. My place. In 10 minutes. I'm having an Alan Rickman Film Festival.
Come on over. You'll like this guy. Superb actor. I have a duvet you can borrow. Bring a
friend (if you must!) :)
Debbie
Canada - 07/06/97 at 14:03:38
Just returned from a walk and what did I see streaking out of the local gas station? A
man on a motorcycle, dressed in military uniform, followed by a vintage Rolls Royce with
British plates, filled with gentlemen all looking stangely alike. BTW, the Royce had a
bumper sticker on it which read, "support your local sheriff." They were in an
awful hurry, wonder where they were going??
Joan
L.I., NY USA - 07/06/97 at 12:09:05
Gas Attendant #1: (Elbows friend, as roar of motorcyle announces next customer) (Not
moving) Hoo-ha, get a load of this guy, will ya?
Gas Attendant #2: (Squinting eyes, puckered face) Some kinda Fourtha July Parade we doan
know 'bout?
Gas At tendant #1: I'll take care of this wise guy.
Man on Motorcycle: I am in need, sirs, of some additional petrol in order to reach my
destination. There's not a moment to lose.
Gas Attendant #1: (Fills it up) Say, I *know* who yore spo sed ta be - George Washington,
right? Heh-heh.
Man on Motorcycle: (Faint smile) Hardly. (Handing him bag.) This should set you in good
stead. (Slight bow) Good day, gentlemen.
--------------Zoooooooooooommmmmmm!
Gas Attendant #1: (Looking at coins) Hey!!!! What the heck are these?
Gas Attendant #2: (Smirking) Hoo-ha.
Cashier
Your Town, USA - 07/04/97 at 19:06:03
Mary Anne, Mary Anne... ah yes, there you are, behind that glass door to my left. There never seems to be any shortage of glass doors-- or walls-- around here. It's only a matter of walking through...
I shan't bring my cello, it might get damaged... but I must confess, I'm rather looking forward to a genuinely haunting performance.
And yes, I am very good indeed at dealing with rats.
Jamie
En route - 07/04/97 at 08:00:31
Jamie: I have prepared several safe houses in strategic locations around the country,
as well as two large office buildings (complete with computers and staff), five gas
stations, a firearms dealership, and an all-nite minimart. If there's anything els e I can
do to help, you know how to contact me.
Sofia
USA - 07/03/97 at 23:47:54
And Jamie - you are wonderful and thoughtful, and I am grateful for your *undying*
friendship. (Hey - what just flew by my head??) The world is a better place with you in
it, heaven knows. Your appearance would have done the trick, no doubt - no doubt - but as
luck (or Hans) would have it I was released without your kind, kind, offer. I think Mary
Anne might benefit from your previously expressed disdain for her captor (well, I assume
Mr. I was behind that demolished door and ominous silence) until w e can arrive. Perhaps
you can deal with him yourself...for which we would owe you a world of gratitude and many
soft tissues suffused with non-allergenic lotions....
Renie, again
CA, USA - 07/03/97 at 19:18:21
Talk about an interesting Fourth of July! And it's only the Third! I''ve been hauled
away, it appears, by these two who never eat or go to the bathroom (or do anything that's
not camera-ready.) They've asked me endless questions about Hans and some rea lly
"out there" questions about aliens (can you believe it?) and the unexplainable
events of the Delaford Picnic. I was escorted here when my answers did not satisfy. A man
with cigarette-stained fingers came in and told me that a man known only as "Mr.
I" had engineered my detainment; the interrogator is better placed in the world of
bad guys than I thought. He also informed me that Mary Anne was to be "sacrificed for
the cause", whatever that means. Haaalllp!!! Mary Anne, dearest, I'm stuck here!
" What can I do?", as our Colonel would say. Mr. I, lay off!!! You'll answer for
your deeds - one way or another. Jamie, everyone, do what you can for dear Mary Anne!
Wait, he's back. What? A message for me? A mutual friend - I can't believe that, bust er.
I quit smoking long ago. (Camera close-up of printed e-mail: "R - There are sometimes
advantages to having an unsavory past. You will be released immediately without further
ado. This man will take you personally to where I am, and we can togethe r summarily end
this threat to Mary Anne. We will have the aid of Brandon, who has arrived with a fire I
have never seen in an upstanding man. Ed has helped me get this note to you - he's amazing
- he's figured this all out already. Yours - H." I'm out ta here! Let's go Mr.
Roll-your-own, I'm on a mission....hold on Mary Anne!
Renie <reniept@hotmail.comfoo>
CA, USA - 07/03/97 at 19:04:17
Scully: Mulder, I just don't think this is an "X"-File. Granted, she's hiding
something, but I think she's telling the truth about her lack of involvement in this case.
Mulder: Are you sure you aren't just protecting her because she knew your sister?
Scully: Towels, ashtrays, this just doesn't add up to anything paranormal. Who's behind
keeping her in the interrogation room?
Mulder: I can't say. But I've got a ton of e-mail messages at my desk and some unopened
letter from some guy i n my in-box, so shut off your flashlight and let's call it a day.
Scully: I just don't feel right about leaving her here....
Mulder: Now who's being paranoid?
Chris Carter
USA - 07/03/97 at 18:21:03
No, Colonel--please--you MUST NOT DO THIS!! He's here, I tell you, he's HERE! Colonel Brandon--Christopher, my dear friend--IT'S A TRAP! HE'S----!!!!!
[Sound of door being forced, torn from its hinges]
[Ominous silence]
Mary Anne
USA - 07/03/97 at 18:08:42
To the man who calls himself The Interrogator:
You seem, sir, bent on an inadvisable course of conduct. So be it. I am this moment astride this borrowed motorcycle to avert whatever you intend to offer up by way of fear or folly. You cannot hop e to succeed.
Mary Anne, Renie, and to all of those I name as friend and more: Forgive me....forgive
me. Sinclair: Didn't you mention that you had a house in the USA which was empty? I shall
have need of it. Perhaps Sofia or someone else could rea dy it for my arrival? Jamie: Sir,
I would be pleased to have you watch over Mary Anne in my absence.
Christopher Brandon
Crossing the Pond - 07/03/97 at 17:57:21
I suspect at least one of the federal agents at our friend Renie's door might be distracted if I supplied him with evidence of paranormal activity... or so some of my friends on the Other Side have advised me. (Thank you, Melissa.)
I must say there is one good thing about being dead; it saves tremendously on travel fares... and since I've nothing else on my social calendar at the moment, I think I can well spare the time to assist a friend in need...
That is, unless you'd prefer to handle the matter yourself, Renie. Wouldn't want you to
think I was in doubt of your abilities, or anything tiresome of that sort.
Jamie
Thinking... - 07/03/97 at 17:55:54
Very well, Interrogator--remorseless, inexorable fiend that you are! You have your will
of me at last. Stern man, can nothing move you?! Were the means at hand, I would resist
you to the death. Being powerless . . . I--this is as painful to me a s anything you could
devise--I entreat you, sir, do as you like with me, but release Renie! Leave my friends
unharmed! Name your terms!(Oh, no . . . I just realized . . . I did it AGAIN!!!)
Mary Anne
USA - 07/03/97 at 17:55:33
Mary Anne - Your request has been taken under advisement, by ME! Your friend has been
taken into custody by those two Federal Agents, after I told them a tale which should keep
her out of the way - and that whelp Gruber will doubtless waste his time te nding to Renie
- which leaves YOU to ME!
You Know Who
Inching Closer, - 07/03/97 at 17:33:27
As far as setting some watch on MA, well, I have a suggestion. I certainly don't want
to be a bother, but suppose I arrange to haunt her quarters for a bit? She should be quite
safe from this Interrogator fellow then, since my presence drives rats away . . .
Jamie
Hovering about, - 07/03/97 at 17:29:21
Ah, woe's me! Upon re-reading, I see that I have violated the sacred "h" law
in my last post! And I'm drawing a blank: no reference, anecdote, or URL available to
shield me from the penalty . . . it's lashes with a wet noodle, or else death by barbecue
, for certain. Judge Renie, may I approach the bench? The Colonel's utterance was so
distressing, I plead hysteria and throw myself on the mercy of the court. Could there be a
continuance until I can provide the necessary reference, anecdote, URL, or--to use your
words--"lame excuse"? ;-)
Mary Anne
USA - 07/03/97 at 16:53:43
No, Colonel, please--you mustn't! Allow me a moment to compose myself . . . don't you
see, sir, that if you challenge The Interrogator, he gets to choose the weapons?! Let him
be for now--he's certain to make a mistake sooner or later, an d then you can deal with
him as you see fit. For now, all of us who fear for your safety implore you--turn from
your wrath! Stay your hand!
Mary Anne
USA - 07/03/97 at 16:45:31
Herr Colonel: You have shown yourself to be a man of action when necessary, and a man
of absolute dedication, which are traits I admire and, permit me to say, share with you.
We have more in common than either of us may care to admit. I am more than willing to
assist you in any way you see fit regarding the protection of those we...I am a bit
unavailable at the present due to some unwanted interest in my whereabouts, but I have
left nothing to Chance and will likewise sow the seeds of destruction for this man before
his menace blooms. Also - who is your tailor?
Herr Hans Gruber
On the Lam, America - 07/03/97 at 16:45:03
Colonel! We do hate to trouble you and take you away from your other affairs here
(piano lessons, for one) and at home, but it would be unwise and untrue to say that we are
not thrilled to have your voice speak on our behalf. His liberty is full of th reats to
all - to you yourself, to us, to everyone! Bit I fear especially for Mary Anne - set some
watch over her. I am fine myself, although two federal agents are speaking with me now and
I'm trying to keep my stories straight...There is also a smokin g man hovering outside in
the street....I shall expect my lesson at the regular hour, unless I hear from you
otherwise.
Renie <reniept@hotmail.comfoo>
CA, USA - 07/03/97 at 16:25:08
To the man who calls himself The Interrogator:
I am at the end of my patience. Your attempts to injure me I could overlook, but I cannot stand by and permit you to threaten these gentle ladies who are under my protection. Allow me to point out that you have been made to look quite foolish on several occasions already, this last by Herr Gruber (whom I may have judged too hastily) especially.
I will not waste words insulting you. Simply be assured that if you utter another of
your threats against any of these women, my seconds will call on you to arrange an
appointment.
Colonel Brandon
England - 07/03/97 at 16:02:55
Claudia, you are such a *dear* to involve yourself in this - thank you for being Ed's connection - I'm sure that Hans will find some way to thank you as well. Ed could use the sleep, poor dear. This chase is hotly followed. Further news from you wil l be as hotly awaited.
Mary Anne, dearest, it appears you have to watch *yourself*, Mr. I. certainly has something in mind and is probably feeling plenty wounded and infuriated...don't celebrate this weekend at a BBQ. (Obvious, I know, but someone had to say it.) Mary Anne, you asked me a question last night, privately, which I certainly appreciate if only to protect Hans' reputation. I felt earlier that it would be better to keep some of those details of Hans' historic hotel heist secret - but I n ow realize that we are all friends here, and that disclosure of what happened might make some of you who cannot understand my attraction to Hans (Brandon is easily understood) more inclined to empathasize with me, even if you cannot sympathize with him. It's long, and *lashings* of apologies for its length. Hans wrote:
"... but I was not such an exceptional thief then--it involved
some hotel towels and ashtrays. However, it quickly escalated when I threw a bellhop down
a laundry chute and took one of the chambermaids hostage . . . I can only say it was the
beginning of everything for me."
Then, Mary Anne, you asked, "Renie dear, after Hans had said that throwing the
bellboy down the laundry chute and taking the chambermaid hostage had been 'th e beginning
of everything for him', you said: 'Including a great career and the end of my distaste for
action movies.' Don't want to pry, but . . . could you have been that chambermaid?! It
would explain a great deal . . ."
Nope. I was the bellboy. br After the chambermaid (Nellie) told Hans that I was really
a girl (I was a bit younger in those days, and Nellie was a great grandma of a woman,
bless her soul) Hans realized what a mistake he'd made (cheap towels!), let Nellie go, and
jumped down the laundry chute (I thought) to escape. My long hair (even then) had come out
from under my cap (they wouldn't accept my application when I was a girl, so I reapplied
in man's weeds) and was tangled in the yards of sheets and pillowcases where I'd landed,
unhurt. Hans laughed and took pity on me, gently helping me untangle the mess. He looked
at me full in the face and laughed again, this time at the spunk of a young girl deceiving
the hotel into hiring me. (I thereafter won my sexual discrimination suit agaist them, and
their hiring practices are being monitored annually by a court-appointed consulting firm.)
I looked at him with a strange affinity for someone who would rip off their cheapo towels
- serves 'em right. Brushing my hair back with his soft ly bent, splayed fingers, he set
my bellboy cap just above my eyes and lightly chuckled, "It suits you." Then he
left. Hans and I never spoke of it at the Almeida party, being on more formal terms. After
our talks in the South Rose Garden at Delaford and all that followed, I learned that he
had come down the chute to check on me, not to escape. When I reminded him of his parting
comment, he turned away from the fireplace and moved behind me, as I sat in the wing
chair. I felt his stillness at my ba ck and his fingers on my cheek as he brushed my hair
back again, this time more tenderly. His voice was even, yet deep: "It still suits
you - that rebellious spirit." But I am coming close to touching on the events which
have been set down in the letter , lost in the gardener's pocket, so I must break off
here...
(My fellow bankrupt Americans - Happy Fourth weekend!)
Renie <reniept@hotmail.comfoo>
CA, USA - 07/03/97 at 14:57:23
Tsk, Mary Anne--these speculations on "where I'll strike next." You'll know
when I'm going to hurt you . . . it's the suspense, not the pain, that will drive you mad
. . .
The Interrogator
At your side, - 07/03/97 at 14:33:09
Renie--I can hardly thank you and Hans enough for your prompt action, though I must say
the idea of both Hans and The Interrogator in my room--with me unconscious and
helpless--gives me a case of the quavering habdabs. Watch yourself, Renie. There's no
telling where Mr. I will strike next . . .
As to parties, naturally we shouldn't wait until December to have another, though
Christmas (or thereabouts) at Nakatomi will be something to look forward to. Jamie, please
start practicing the appropriate carols. Sinclair, will you consider catering? And Hans
(wherever you are), looks as if you'll be needing a new suit--again. Tuxedo this time, I
think. Nino Cerruti, perhaps? Hans in black tie . . . rowrrrr!
Mary Anne
USA - 07/03/97 at 09:31:56
Renie - Ed phoned and he says he's going to bed. He has been working on the computers without any sleep for several days now. He was devistated when I told him he'd missed the towels and ashtrays, but he said that wasn't the sort of crime he'd though t to look for.
He can't remember why he started doing this in the first place, but you or Hans must have made some sort of impression on him.
I shouldn't expect to hear from him for a while, I think he will be sleeping for a
couple of days. Catch you all later.
Claudia
NZ - 07/03/97 at 02:16:02
That is I don't want *you* to be bothered by these two - whoever they turn out to
be....
Renie, again
CA, USA - 07/02/97 at 22:33:34
Jamie - It wasn't me, but you know, the way this FOF thing works, well anything (within
propriety) goes, and it could well have been me (or maybe it'll be me next time! The idea
of you being casually exchanged from one person to another actually has a kind of draw to
it.... I'd invite you over, but I don't want to be bothered if (Sounds of knocking
interrupts, Renie goes to the bay window and sneaks a peak from the crack.) Two figures
stand on her doorstep, one quite handsome and one quite stunning l ooking. The woman has
short reddish hair; the man is wearing a long overcoat even though it's summer. Not a hair
is out of place. There's no sign of megaphones or mass action, just these two. Photogenic
factor - off the scale. Should I open the door? /b
Renie <reniept@hotmail.comfoo>
CA, USA - 07/02/97 at 22:31:36
I think I should mention that I was doing very well indeed at the Delaford weekend until someone began impersonating me. Fortunately they didn't say anything I shouldn't have said myself, but the idea of being casually exchanged from one person to another makes me feel positively degraded.
There's so much rubbish around here, it looks like a Terry Gilliam film... or as though
Nina had just moved in. I think I'll just go and have a tidy up to relieve my feelings.
P.S. All right, maybe "degraded" was a bit harsh. "Disoriented" might
be a better word for it.
Jamie
In Limbo - 07/02/97 at 22:12:19
I never know where to look first - Rickmania strikes everywhere - I had an e-mail
message from Hans via Mary Anne (thank you, dearest): "Geliebte Renie--Ed had removed
almost all outstanding criminal charges against me in existing computer files--almo st
all, for there was but one left when he was detected, a minor matter of theft early in my
career. It is a shameful thing for a master criminal to have to confess, but I was not
such an exceptional thief then--it involved some hotel towels and ashtrays. ..."
There are details about his plans which I won't repeat here to keep him out of danger and
away from the authorities. There was also a rather stirring reference to some
"nibbling", but I digress. There is one thing I'm worried about, though. Now t
hat Hans is #1 on the interrogator's Top Ten Hit List, Mr. I might well team up with the
Feds to get Hans - or me! The thought of my being in the clutches of the interrogator at
the behest of Uncle Sam - it makes me shudder and it would surely smoke Hans out of
hiding. I think the Feds are monitoring my e-mail. (I'm not answering the door for any
floral deliveries, either.) Claudia, if Ed contacts you, please let me know ASAP!
Renie <reniept@hotmail.comfoo>
CA, USA - 07/02/97 at 22:10:50
Yessssss! Christmas at Nakatomi Plaza!!! But it's only JULY....And Yessss! (Sighs of
relief) Mary Anne, I'm sooooo glad Hans made it there in time! I was worried for him only
for a moment, but since you were in distress, what else could we do! Hans lef t me with
his silver pistol (you know, the one with the top which unscrews) in case any thing should
happen here while he was rescuing you - thank goodness nothing did happen which called for
a firearm as I'm absolutely clueless - except which way to poin t it. Rickmania
post-picinc has slightly subsided through extreme self-imposed limits, but I do keep
getting posts from Ed in my e-mail (thank goodness!) - Ed is having trouble with global
deletions. Wish him luck for me.) I've told Hans about the Chri stmas party idea, he loves
it ("A second chance... mmmm...") and promises to bring the Hansgang along. I
can't *WAIT* to include AR the director at that adventure but let's not wait that long!
Renie <reniept@hotmail.comfoo>
CA, USA - 07/02/97 at 20:39:47
"Hansgang"? What a wonderful collective noun! Rather like a "lurk"
of secret agents, I suppose (Thanks to John Steed of *The Avengers* for that one).
Mary Anne
USA - 07/02/97 at 17:07:31
I'd love to see a DH where the Hansgang of gorgeous men breaks into Nakatomi again, and
after the customary car chase, fireball, etc. Hans wipes that smirk off BWillis's face and
keeps him from doing more grunting, frowning, or foul speech. After, Ric kman walks away
with $15 million, starts his own production co., and sends Karina a dozen yellow roses for
all her work on this page. Now, that's what I call a happy ending!
Happy weekend, ye'all
Emma
USA - 07/02/97 at 16:35:59
So maybe we could have the Nakatomi soiree a bit ahead, to give everyone time to
recover for the actual holiday. After all, even villains need to be with their families at
Christmas . . . 8-) Plenty of time to plan!
Mary Anne
USA - 07/02/97 at 16:04:07
A Christmas (Eve?) party at Nakatomi Plaza? Brilliant!
But I'm planning to be out of town then and more than likely away from a computer! Oh
NOOOOOOOOO!
My family is really going to wonder why I appear to be in such pain!!!!! Either that or
they'll think I've finally lost it as I laugh hysterically every time I watch the Grinch.
(I think Alan would make a brilliant Grinch!) I guess I'll just h ave to pack a bunch of
Alan's films in my suitcase like I did last year. (And they all thought I'd brought RHPoT
because my nephew would like it!! Ha!)
Deb <maalbers@uniserve.comfoo>
Canada - 07/02/97 at 15:49:45
Mary Anne: Christmas at Nakatomi Plaza it is! (BTW, my birthday is Christmas Eve and if
Noel is right, I'm looking forward to a very Happy Birthday! (Can't wait to see what you
guys do with Alan, The Director joining The Boys.) Been lurking...you fo lks are
hilarious! Well, I'm off 'til next week. Have a safe and enjoyable 4th. Take could care of
Raz, Hans, Obadiah, and the Colonel and all the rest!
Debbye
Washington, DC USA - 07/02/97 at 13:30:40
I loved all the entries and feel that mystery/fantasy is a necessary ingredient to
these fetes. Debbye from next door made an interesting observation that some new
characters are going to (hopefully) be joining the get-togethers! Should our next party be
a welcome wagon type of thing?
Noel
Alexandria, VA USA - 07/02/97 at 10:55:17
Folks, when I sign as "Mary Anne," I assure you that's who I am (definitely
not Newt) ; however, as to some of the stuff that I've posted under other names . . .
well, not even The Interrogator will get that out of me. [Clouds gather at the pres ence
of such hubris, Greek-tragic style.] Far better to retain the mystery! Oh, and speaking of
Mr. I, a little something for the weirdness department. As I was out driving yesterday, I
was thinking about--and chuckling over--some of the events at the picnic, especially being
followed home by a most unsavory element. I turned on the radio and, as I surfed the
stations, heard in quick succession: "Nowhere to Run, Nowhere to Hide" ;
"The Night Has a Thousand Eyes" ; "Ready or Not, Here I Come" ;
"I'l l Be Watching You" ("Every step you take . . . every move you make . .
.") ; and "My Heart Can't Tell You 'No'" ("I don't want you to come
'round here no more . . ."). It definitely got a little strange--I didn't dare try
the classical stations! Wonder if Mr. I has taken up working as a DJ? 8-)
Mary Anne
USA - 07/02/97 at 09:19:43
Well, I don't think Mary Anne could be AR - she wouldn't have such a passion for
himself, is she were! Anyway, her E-Mail address would be in the UK, unless she were
incredibly devious, same goes for you others! I still don't want to know!
Claudia
NZ - 07/01/97 at 20:07:06
And besides, if we found out that Jamie was, oh, let's say Mary Anne, how much would
that tell us? For all we know, 'Mary Anne' could be anyone. (Alan Rickman, Newt
Gingrich... the mind boggles.)
Sofia
USA - 07/01/97 at 19:46:52
Not to worry, Claudia: *I* wasn't Jamie.
Sofia
USA - 07/01/97 at 19:41:14
I don't think we really do want to know who was who at the party. This is fantasy,
after all, and it would put a dampener on things if we found out we had been having a
passionate conversation etc with Mary Anne, Sofia, or Renie. (Even though we know we
probably were). I think not knowing, and convincing oneself you were talking to one of the
increadibly good looking gentlmen at the picnic, is a much better option. After what has
been happening at home today, I need my escape!
Claudia <clods@xtra.co.nzfoo>
Whitby, NZ - 07/01/97 at 19:36:19
Round of applause, Sofia! You did indeed liven things up, as if this bunch needs that.
Does it worry you at all that you can sound so convincing as The Interrogator . . . ? Of
course, that's why I said I suspected that *some* of our no-names and false- names were
guys. I will myself admit to being one of the mischief-makers here and there, but if I
reveal where and when, then Renie would be justified in referring to me as "that
scamp, Mary Anne." (As if she isn't usually justified in doing that, anyway! ) Oh,
and Renie dear: give Hans my thanks for his gallant actions (whatever his motive) and tell
him I cover his ha--er, his "delectable digits" with kisses. ;-) He saved me
from a horrible fate, indeed. Yes, I've been through yet another trying experienc e, but
Rickmaniacs, if ever thou didst hold me in thy heart--DON'T SEND ME ANY FLOWERS!!!! 8-D
Mary Anne
USA - 07/01/97 at 17:15:45
(For the record, I'm responsible for Dev's posts, and the majority of the
Interrogator's. It seemed like the hostess-ly thing to do.)
Sofia
USA - 07/01/97 at 16:03:02
Very well, I shall take pity. Return to MA, still unconscious. The Interrogator is so
intent on his sleeping victim that he fails to hear the door opening behind him. He does,
however, hear--and stiffens at the sound of--a click that signals the presen ce of a
particularly nasty variety of semi-automatic weapon, known by such interesting nicknames
as "young cannon" and "never mind the dog, beware of the owner," among
others. Slowly, making no sudden moves, he turns to see in the doorway--Hans Gruber.
He is speechless for a moment, and then the light breaks. His understanding finds vent in
one venomous word: "Renie!" And he was so close . . .
Hans smiles a heart-stopping smile. "Renie, indeed. Remember she said I'd be staying
with a 'fri end' of hers? This is certainly the last place anyone would expect to find
me."
"But why?!" exclaims the Interrogator. "What do you care for" he
gestures to the bed, "this woman? You were the one who gave her to me at the first
party."
"True," r eplies Hans. "It suited my purposes to give her to you then--and
it suits them now to take her away. Renie will be most impressed when she hears. I do not
give up easily--no more so than you--and I will have her yet. Besides . . ." Hans
appears to struggl e with an unaccustomed emotion. "They have both been . . . kind .
. . to me of late. I--" Further words are useless ; he levels the gun at the
Interrogator. "Make no mistake, I am in charge here. I will let you walk out, this
time. See that you do not ret urn."
With the stiff nod of someone who is infuriated but has it under control, Mr. I rises and
leaves the room, with one last piercing glance toward the bed and its slumbering occupant.
To Hans, he murmurs as he leaves, "Your soul's true face?" and i s gone.
Hans remains for a while, guarding MA, and is heard to say softly, "Yes. My soul's
true face, indeed." As the drug wears off and MA begins to stir, he brushes the
remaining orchids from the bed and slips quietly out of the room . . .
???
- 07/01/97 at 13:28:44
If I were conscious, I'd be screaming at the top of my lungs--and I have a positively
operatic scream. Don't just sit there, ???--GET ME OUT OF THIS!!! BTW, folks, I have a
sneaking suspicion that some of our anonymous/pseudonymous posters are g uys who really
get a kick out of all this but are too shy to give their real names. Well if it's true,
have fun guys! Hope that someday you'll follow Mr. Willoughby's example and remove your
masks. 8-)
Mary Anne
USA - 07/01/97 at 09:29:42
Scene: MA unconscious in her bed ; the soporific implanted in that particular bundle of
orchids was released the moment she picked them up to throw them away. Darkness deepens in
the room. Shadows lengthen. Then, with a barely perceptible hiss, a panel of the wall
slides away, to reveal . . . The Interrogator.
He has her at last. She has insulted him, underestimated him, hurled defiance (and heavy
objects) at him whenever she had the opportunity. Now he has her--in his power, at his
mercy (consult thesaurus for more of the same). She will prove an interesting c hallenge.
He stretches lazily--several hours in that secret compartment has proven difficult, but
worthwhile--exulting in his power and her utter helplessness.
Who will save her? Will anyone?! She is alone and far from help. What will become of her?
F or the answers to these and other questions . . .
???
- 07/01/97 at 09:21:10
And Sandra, come back to us soon after your sick leave! We won't promise to be good,
but maybe you'll have a good time when you return to your work computer! Sending my best
to you -
Renie(again)
CA, USA - 06/30/97 at 21:21:38
The strangest things are happening to me, too. In my e-mail mailbox was "A Message
from Ed" which read: "I will work on the computer files right away - this may
take some time, though, so don't get your/Hans' hopes up. Ed." I am getting real
messag es from fictional characters in celluloid movies, post virtual-picnic from a
fantasy guestbook. I shall truly run mad. On a compleeeeetely different note, I 've heard
that it *wasn't* Claudia who posed for Ed. (But didn't she run off for a cold shower when
things were pretty steamy at the picnic? Hmmmm....)...And Debbye, I hereby volunteer to be
stand-in for Juliet S. in any scene at all, but especially hand scenes. (Double bonus
reference: DIE HARD: Walking in from doorway, dusting off suit with left hand!! "Have
a look at what our friends outside are doing and I'll be right up." Runs left hand
quickly through hair to be NEAT.) Which reminds me: this Hans matter has gone to head so
much I rented the movie the other night. (I was on vacation when the rest of you got to
see it.) I had only seen it once, a few months ago - I'm not really the action movie type.
(Brandon, Brandon, Brandon) I've documented the movie from the vantage point of my special
"interest" - AR's *hands*. ("When they touch do wn, we'll blow the
roof...." - AR's right hand ring and pinky finger are subtly bouncing in malicious
and triumphant glee on the walkie-talkie.) Maybe Dr. Ruth was right, we all need to go to
a beach (and earn 20%!!!!!!! - Hah!!!!! I need a reality check (checque?)) - or an e-mail
message from Hans (No, don't do it!!)
Renie <reniept@hotmail.comfoo>
CA, USA - 06/30/97 at 20:37:00
Back to the bulletin board: Sheriff-thanks you for staying clear of me at this
gathering, there's a darling villain. Very fetching, those mink-lined chains. (Great idea,
Claudia!) Mr. W--my (and Kate's) pleasure. Sofia--thanks for the loan (frequent) t he
smelling salts ; you had the place well-stocked, didn't you? 8-) Hans-- behave yourself,
and be very nice to Renie. "Bist du nicht willig, so brauch ich gewalt!" Not all
of us here are "bankrupt . . ." Colonel Brandon--please, sir, my blushes. Y ou
say you owe me your life? As if I didn't owe you mine several times over, and more than
that as well. My pleasure and my honor, sir. And don't forget what we owe to Mr.
Willoughby. Renie--let me know how Hans behaves ; I let him off for your sake, not for
his. [Darkly] I haven't forgetten that he gave me to the Interrogator at the first party .
. . ah, well. Let it pass for now. Got to get rid of these orchids . . . that's funny . .
. orchids aren't supposed to have a strong scent, but these . . . smel l . . . heavy, and
sweet . . . [yawn] . . . getting dizzy . . . what's happening to me . . . ?
Mary Anne
USA - 06/30/97 at 17:44:02
Renie - haven't time to read all that has been going on since I was last here...
Thought you'd be interested in a book I saw advertised "Bad Boys - why we love them,
and how to know when to leave.." Take care all of you!
Claudia <rileyc@forestry.co.nzfoo>
NZ - 06/30/97 at 16:35:00
Sofia - Colonel Brandon's disappointment won't last for long, he knows that he will
*never* slide out of my sandwich. In fact, there was a note from him in my mailbox this
morning (no postage, I guess he must have motorcyled it over after you left wit h Sinclair
in the Rolls) politely inquiring of a convenient date for our next pianoforte lesson! (And
in fiction, everyone nevers forgets (plotlines, at least) and always (well, almost always)
forgives....) I hoped that Sinclair would ask you for help w ith the dust bunnies. (Last
time I was at Sinclair's house it was dusty indeed.) Liked the clay tablets. Thank-you for
being a hostess without equal (the next host/hostess has a tough act to follow) and
apparently AR had as good a time as we did ;-). M ary Anne, dearest I can't thank you
enough for dismissing your civil action against Hans, you are indeed a great friend.
However, we are going to need someone to intervene and get the District Attorney to
dismiss all of the criminal charges which still r emain. Or take care of the situation in
some other way. (Is Hans rubbing off on me?!) Do you have any ideas? Perhaps Eamon de
Valera or a friend of his? Hans is staying "with a friend" - not with me (too
obvious, since he's a wanted man they've got m y house staked out) - but I'm sure I can
get him a message if you or anyone can help. Hey - (Light bulb!) What if Ed deletes all
the records of all Hans' criminal charges (past and pending) from the DA's computer banks?
As for your orchids, I suspect t hat someone has followed you home from the picnic! Oh no!
Renie
CA, USA - 06/30/97 at 15:28:45
As the credits begin to roll for the June 1997 Delaford Picnic (First Annual), the camera pulls back from the guestbook as "Ode to Joy" comes up. We track down the long main hall where Delaford staff are cleaning out rooms, beating rugs, making up bed s, fluffing pillows, removing all traces of anachronisms and generally restoring Order. At the end of the hall is the kitchen. We see a large bulletin board, and move in close-up on a series of notes tacked onto it, and read:
Emma - Thank-you for all of the delightful conversation, My Best - Jacques
Lisa - I owe you 50 rubles for my share of the carriage. - Raz
Brandon - Loved the loidies, mate. Do ring me up for the next one. And bring that Kate's
oatmeal scones for skeets. - Elliot
Ka te - You were right about Connery's voice. - Renie
Miss Mary Anne - I owe you my life. - The Colonel
Sofia - Next time a BBQ, please. - Mr. I
Renie - I'll never tell. - Love, Hans
Comrades - God forgives you all, to repent you first must sin. - Raz
Mary Anne - This is an awfully big adventure, is 't not? - Renie
Claudia - Thanks. You can keep my mink-lined chains. - The Sheriff
Ladies whose names I can't remember (Sorry!) - Thanks. - The Sheriff
Sofia - Next time somepla ce warmer. (Brrrrr.....Not Stonehenge, too cold(!)) And say
you'll be there. - Jamie
Kate and Mary Anne - I'm a new man. - John W.
(No name ) - Thanks for posing. - Ed
Renie - Perhaps we can play at the next gathering. I remain. Yours, The Colonel
There is a postcard from Mount Athos, and a sealed envelope adressed in Renie's
handwriting to "The Delaford Ladies." Inside, is a full account of what happened
between Hans and Renie, and the full details about everyone else's adventures, c overing
every minute spent at Delaford, including the secret diaries of every single irresistible
man at the picnic. As the credits near their close, we see Chance the gardener reach up,
grasp the envelope, and put it into his pocket. The camera pulls b ack, out the window of
the kitchen, for a magnificent overhead view of Delaford and its surrounds, as the last
strains of "Ode to Joy" aptly punctuate our fond adieu. (Fade to black.)
Renie <reniept@hotmail.comfoo>
CA, USA - 06/30/97 at 14:46:18
All right, all right . . . who's the wise guy?! When I woke up this morning, my bed was
covered--absolutely carpeted--with Amazonian Black Orchids!!! Oh, there you are,
Hans--just wanted to know what I could do to thank you for your promise not to harm the
Colonel. I know you're not all bad, see, or you wouldn't be lavishing your affections on a
lovely person like Renie. What's that? Drop the charges . . . ? Hmmm--well, I suppose we
could come up with some way to settle this out of court. If it means the Colonel's safety
. . . (ah, how these villains find my weaknesses!). Listen, Hans--be very good to Renie.
You know how she gets when you turn those smoldery ruthless eyes on her ; show some pity,
will you? Thanks. I'll go to court tomorrow and t ake care of that little disturbance from
the first party. Now, about those orchids--who put them all over my bed while I was
asleep?! [Struck by a horrible thought] No . . . it COULDN'T be . . .
Mary Anne
USA - 06/30/97 at 14:02:23
In the aftermath at Delaford:
No one has noticed a mysterious figure (yes, another one)strolling about the grounds. A
man in his early fifties, handsome, but in the magnetic rather than classical sense. He
pauses in the South Rose Garden, and his ey es light up with a tigerish, golden-green
glitter at the sight of crushed petals and a fragment of oatmeal scone. It passes. He
walks on.
He enters the house, pausing at various doors. Can't help chuckling as he stands outside
the Colonel's study, whe re Renie has been "called on the carpet" to account for
some of her actions during the picnic. Renie's a good sort and won't lie, but obviously
can't tell the whole truth. Good luck to her. He passes on . . .
Pauses outside the breafast room, where Mar y Anne is insisting that she hates orchids,
can't stand the sight of orchids, and will under no consideration go near the Orchid
Conservatory again! At the sounds of her protests, the mystery man smiles a faint, chilly
little smile, which is quickly gone (thank the Lord). He glides silently away . . .
He takes his time, reacting in various ways to different sights and sounds: cello music,
someone whistling the "Ode to Joy," purple stains on the flagstones. His
expression is one of amused affection.
Finally his wanderings bring him back to the main entry hall, where he checks his pockets
for a card to leave in the silver tray. He doesn't find one. Shrugs, and elects to initial
the Colonel's guestbook instead. One soft murmur escapes him: "Priceless . . ."
With a flourish of the quill, he's gone as quiely an unobtrusively as he arrived. Slow pan
back to the guestbook and to the initials: A.R.
Don' t you wish . . .
- 06/30/97 at 09:42:34
I've just been back to the twentieth century, getting some modern hybrid rosebushes for
the Colonel. I think I can safely say that his rose garden will henceforth be a source of
amazement and envy to all his neighbors. Now that I'm back the party seems to be breaking
up. I was leafing through Oxford University Press's spring catalog and Dev, seeing so many
books which had been published without his agreement, has gone back to Ireland to lodge a
protest. Elliott seems to have been disappointed by the la ck of interest in his plans for
killing off the original inhabitants of England, and has gone off in search of countries
more sympathetic to his aims. Jamie just dematerialized, cello in one hand and Strepsils
in the other, and no one seems to know where Ed has gone. I think George has been
committed; no one has seen either Hans or Renie lately, which I suspect is No Coincidence.
P.L. is off looking for his son again. Raz seemed to think that Obadiah might need some
sort of spiritual guidance, and went of f to try to catch up with him. Before he left,
though, he hypnotized Sinclair and erased all memory of the unfortunate beet-juice
incident. Sinclair and I are back in his house: he's longing to get back to reading the
epic of Gilgamesh in the original Akk adian (he couldn't bring it; all those clay tablets
were too heavy), and he's asked me to help with the dust bunnies. Just as we were about to
leave the Colonel rode up on the motorcycle (which P.L. told him he could keep so long as
he didn't let anyone e lse in the 19th century see it -- we can't mess up history by
introducing the internal combustion engine on a wide scale during the Regency). He's fine,
if a bit tired, and disappointed to have slid out of Renie's sandwich. (I'm not, though:
this is ficti on, after all, so we can waive the obvious questions about the advisability
of falling for people with no conscience whatever.) We said goodbye, got into the Rolls,
and drove off into the sunset. Thus endeth the party.
Sofia
UK - 06/30/97 at 04:05:19
Renie -- I only understood the first half of the message (I only took Russian for a
year, and it was ages ago.) But Sinclair isn't actually reading W&P: he's holding the
book upside down. At least I've removed the purple stains: the Colonel has, or rat her
had, lots of coarse-grit sandpaper, which I have deployed to good effect. (And some people
PAY for dermabrasion!) And then I've been getting more strepsils for Jamie, which I'm
going to take up now.
Sofia
Delaford - 06/29/97 at 20:58:26
Overheard at the party:
Before the party:
Emma: Oh, my...I didn't enter the ingredients for the caramel sauce. You think people will
be able to figure out the recipe without them?
Hans: "By the time they figure out what went wrong, we'll be sitting on a beach
earning 20 percent."
Emma: I better log a correction right now!
During the party Hans: "Nice suit...(appreciatively)John Phillips, London."
Jaques: "It is my only suit."
Hans: "I have two myself."
Tybalt: "Now, by the stock and honour of my kin, To strike him dead I hold it not
a sin."
Hans: "Don't be impatient. Just wound them"
After the party Emma: Seems to me, Hans, you know me well enough.
Hans: "Just another American who saw too many movies as a child?
Emma: Correction, you know me VERY well.
Emma
USA - 06/29/97 at 18:38:51
Just got my new computer up and running and come to visit this page I've heard so much
about from a friend. You all have great imaginations. I haven't seen all of AR's films, so
I don't know all the gentlmen here, but they all sound very interesting, and I look
forward to getting to know you/them all in the future
Rachel
UK - 06/29/97 at 17:22:51
Debbie - I'm glad someone has remembered me.., It's freezing in here! The fire went out
ages ago, and all the guests seem to have gone home, without saying goodbye, may I add.
I've run our of Strepcils, and I think I'm going to sneeze... Just because I'm DEAD
doesn't mean I don't have feelings. Claudia dashed off a couple of days ago, with urgent
business, and I think I hurt her feelings... So now I'm haunting this room... No sign of
the host. Any way, I blame the Government... I think I'll be leav ing now.
A very cold back bedroom
Jamie
Delaford, - 06/29/97 at 15:11:12
Hmmmm... Don't know what happened with those italics...Oh well, anyway...
I'm done rambling now so you all can go back to 'getting over' the picnic... :)
me AGAIN
- 06/29/97 at 04:15:50
I guess I should have added a certain ghost we all know and love to the list of those
who might be interested in a get-together at such a mystical and ancient party spot where
no doubt -- no doubt<i/ -- many spirits still like to meet. So sorry to have
momentarily forgotten you, Jamie dahling....
Debbie again
- 06/29/97 at 04:11:36
Well, my goodness, the picnic is hardly history and already I'm planning the next
gathering!
I just watched a show on Cervantes and Don Quixote, and it got me to thinking...
Hmmmmmm... crazy guy (or not so crazy?) running around waving swords (spanish steel, no
less) at windmills (why does our boy George, or maybe the Raz, suddenly spring to
mind?...)
Idealist who hates the government and speaks spanish...
Noble soldier willing to accept the challenge of a duel to defend the honour of his
lady...
Set at the time of the Spanish Inquisition (gee, I wonder who could handle *that* part of
the story?...
pliers, barbeque stakes, detonators, anyone?... )
Now... for the part of the lovely Dulcimea... I wonder why Dev suddenly comes to mind?...
Hey, if that doesn't interest you, then maybe a really interesting venue... like
Stonehenge, for instance...
Such a spiritual place... that should appeal to several members of this group... so many
clergymen, artistic types, deep thinkers...
Hey, maybe Sinclair could give guided tours with commentary...
I see Doc Mesmer drawing power from the stones...
and isn't that Ed who has climbed up onto one of the lintels and is lying on his back
looking at the stars?...
Oh my, who's that gorgeous guy running around in bare feet and a kilt?...
Oops, sorry, my mistake. Kilts probably haven't been invented yet.... Wait.. I see
now...it's some caveman with matted hair and a scruffy beard wearing animal skins...
but... how curious!... why is he speaking with a russian accent?...
Deb A. <maalbers@uniserve.comfoo>
Canada - 06/29/97 at 03:54:37
Lashings of apologies, Sofia, I didn't realize it was on *you*; I thought it was on your *dress*. Not to be indelicate, and I'm sure there's an explanation, but it *is* curious that the indigo silk was uh, untouched, was Raz, er, just fingerpainting on your face? (My, that does sound positively Raz.) Let me take a look. Yes, you're right. It says, phoenetically, Ya Lyubloo Tebye, maya kraseevaya zhena - is your Russian coming back to you? There's also a catchy little phrase on your leg, which shouldn 't be translated in the PG-rated guestbook. I'll tell you later. And don't feel that you are in hot water with Sinclair - I have good news for you on both counts. He actually is reading War and Peace in Russian. Apparently he overheard my earlier quest ion to Raz, and he approached me to to ask if I would teach him Russian. Being terribly preoccupied with warning the good Colonel and finding the errant Hans at that moment, I insisted that he borrow my Russian language audiotapes for an indefinite perio d. I packed them for a refresher because I spent so much of my time struggling with colloquialisms in the cab with Raz during the Almeida Wine party search-for-Hans-at-the-airport adventure. I lent Sinclair the tapes and my deck. Where he got the book, I don't know. As for the curdled look and his hasty exit, well, Sinclair is allergic to beets and is shy about telling anyone, for some strange reason. I heard him make the remark about his allergy in response to Jamie's question whether Sinclair was s neezing with watery eyes because he was also cold. So once you get these off...hmmmm...MY, it acts indelable, doesn't it - maybe we should try that TIDY TUB cleaner...I think you'll find him sticking like glue to you in no time.
You may notice tha t I have avoided the subject of Hans. I cannot relate to you my
friends what happened between Hans and I now, there are far too many ramifications to
think over. Would you all be disappointed if I've succumbed? Or would the spectre of
frustrated love ( remember the Colonel and Eliza) break free the shackles of social mores
and grip the imagination and the will to bend it to our heart's deisre? (Well, I know what
Claudia thinks....) I will tell you what happened in my next post.
Renie
CA, USA - 06/29/97 at 02:24:59
Renie, I wasn't asking how to get beet juice out of SILK...
Sofia
Delaford - 06/28/97 at 23:48:36
LOL - "You have guests in the next room" - I've had that happen. I can
*virtually* guarantee, there will always be someone here.
The FOF Guestbook
USA - 06/28/97 at 18:26:54
Jamie - sorry I had to rush away last night - it wasn't anything you said. Real life
grabbed me - "what the hell are you doing, youhave guests in the other room" - I
only wanted to see what you were all doing - but my comments didn't come out as I exp
ected!! It may be some hours or days before you see me again, if there is anyone left at
Delaford then.
Claudia
NZ - 06/28/97 at 16:19:57
I apologise for last night - real life stepped in and grabbed me, and I didn't get to
write what I meant to say at all. I will just read what has been going on, then you may
not see me for a long while.
Claudia
NZ - 06/28/97 at 16:14:50
Gentle morning sunlight washes over Delaford. The permanent main staff have just broken up an ad hoc gathering in the kitchen around yet another of the anachronisms made possible by this picnic - a Sony Watchman telly. They are surprised to see scene s from a place called Wimbleton, where local boy Greg Rusedski has energized the Englanders by advancing to the next round. Duties call, however, and the staff expertly goes about its business.
(With some pique, but smiling nonetheless) "Bloody picnic," mutters Chance the gardener, turning the rich soil of the South Rose Garden beds over with his spade, the smooth handle fitting into his ungloved hand, the slight spray of dirt dusting the tips of the several nearby untouched blossoms. His effic ient and hypnotic movements are halted by the discovery of an object the size of his thumbnail. Picking it up in his large and useful hand, between his thumb and forefinger, is a yellowish/pale green bead, glinting columbine-red.
Forty-five sweaty m inutes later, collecting his tools and admiring his artisan's work,
he again spies a foreign object: a tiny, opaque, black rosary bead. He drops it into his
pocket, and the faint click as the two beads meet cannot be heard by anyone.
Chorus
Delaford, England - 06/28/97 at 15:15:06
...and as a postscript to my last message, let me inform the Inquisitor that I was very sensitive to pain, past tense, before I had my unfortunate accident. Right now I'm only sensitive to cold... but I haven't even sneezed, or coughed, since Claudia gave me her box of Strepsils. Bless that girl, wherever she's got to now.
So, Mr. I., as far as I'm concerned, you may do your worst... or at least try. But I'm
feeling rather playful at the moment, and I suspect you may be less than pleased with the
results...
Jamie
USA - 06/28/97 at 10:39:27
Claudia, I'm flattered-- truly-- that you would think of me, even if it's only in desperation: ever since Nina and that quite charming fellow (more's the pity-- I can't even hate him) Mark DeGrunewald got married and moved to Surrey, no one even noti ces me any more. However, I think you should know that my current body temperature is about sixty degrees Fahrenheit, even with the sweater, so I'm afraid the only thing I'm planning to embrace at the moment is my cello.
It's a pity Dev and his cohorts have decided to shun our company: some heated political
discussion might have warmed me up...
Jamie
beside the fire - 06/28/97 at 10:33:10
Hah! Postus interruptus? Or ghostus interruptus?
Renie
CA, USA - 06/28/97 at 05:16:51
I've been interupted, I must go - see you in about 15 hours!
Claudia
NZ - 06/28/97 at 05:08:47
Renie - do it you fool... All this sexual tension is making me very horny, and I may
well be visiting that ghost for the night. At least there will be no need for
"protection". As you see, your situation is affecting me greatly
Claudia
NZ - 06/28/97 at 05:07:49
My, my, this is going to be picnic for the history books. Sofia, beet juice does *not* come out of silk.
And here I thought your fancies flitted on Sinclair, and Obadiah with his greaseless
hair. Well, I can't be one to say that I don't understa nd the attraction to different
types. 'Tis not strange that even our loves should with our fortunes change. I hope Raz
doesn't get you to join Obadiah in conversion to Russian Orthodoxy complete with
pilgrimage - besides missing you , who would look afte r us so well as you - our hostess
doing some gardening in the rosebed, as it were. (Ach! I have it! You were heartsick after
Obadiah's taking his leave so abruptly.) The Colonel has gone off with Mr. O'Hara's
chariot; I too, can only hope that he remembe rs that the Everlasting has fixed his canon
'gainst self-slaughter. And pray he doesn't follow in the footsteps of Peter O'Toole after
Damascus is lost. If only I could have unpacked my hearts with words - O heavy burden. Now
to my German causes. Hans was a complete gentleman throughout dinner, relishing it very
much it seemed, enjoying the fine wine and discussion about clothing-makers. The Colonel
was absent from dinner, at least from my half of the over-sized and beautiful wood dining
table. The tablesettings were en vogue, the fashions de riguer and the meals a la carte.
(No, just kidding there.) Wish I was in a position to pick out patterns. There were many,
many guests - ladies who have been quietly partaking of the picnic this many a day , and
locals invited for a more truly English feel. Even Miss Lucy Steele and Robert Ferrars, of
course Mrs. Jennings, Sir John and his dogs. After dinner the card tables were set up, one
of which Ed promptly requisitioned. When I left that room with H ans, I overheard Ed
whisper to him, "Don't molest anything." On his best behavior, Hans accompanied
me upstairs to the large sitting room in the east wing, which was, fortunately, empty,
save for a large supply of firewood, and a neatly set table for two for dessert. Hans is
such a planner! He moved the couch over for me and I felt like Barbara Streisand going to
Omar Sharif's for dinner. Hans did not sing, "You are woman, I am man" (which
incidentally sounds more like what Raz might utter.) We have spent the wee hours sharing
the benefits of a classical education and making detailed models - a favourite of Hans'
since his childhood. We made a model of a beautiful Salibury Cathedral out of paper, and
when it was done, he put his head on the large pi llow and could not get up. He's sleeping
again, the dear, and at these moments I come dangerously near to feeling like a grilled
cheese sandwich, not a triple-decker. Oh, where is my middle slice when I need him to keep
me from temptation? Is't possibl e that I should *love* the enemy of Brandon? (Hey - this
is fiction - I can love a killer, can't I?) Wait, he's stirring. (R goes over to the
couch, Hans opens wide his eyes) "I am going to count to three. (Delivery is quiet,
powerful.) There will be no f our. At three, you will say that you'll be mine -
forever." [The heat in his eyes like the sudden burst of flames in the room is
palpable. Hans' features seem to flicker into something, no, some*one* else's features in
the fireplace flames' reflectio n, as the music swells....]
Renie
CA, USA - 06/28/97 at 04:52:41
Sorry I couldn't make dinner -- I was talking to Sinclair, and he started eating, and
so did I, and before I knew it we had consumed the better part of a pheasant. So further
eating seemed inadvisable. He's been reading back issues of the Economist, tr ying to
catch up on what went on in the world while he was sitting at home in the dark. I
DEFINITELY think he's over the worst -- he even insisted on doing the dishes when we'd
finished eating, just for the fun of using the washing-up machine. And when he talks about
how interesting things are, I get the feeling he really means it; before he just seemed to
be going through the conversational motions. Anyways, he's settled down to read The Man
Without Qualities, cover to cover in the original German, so I went out for a walk, and
stumbled over Raz near the rose-bushes. We ended up drinking a considerable quantity of
Madeira, and, um, well, does anyone know what to use to wash off beet juice stains? Also,
P.L. can't find his motorcycle, and I was wondering: has anyone seen the Colonel recently?
The last I heard he had discovered Renie and Raz in what he took to be flagrante delicto;
I just hope he hasn't taken it into his head to do himself an injury. -- Oh no, here comes
Raz again; he seems to want to danc e...
Sofia
Delaford - 06/28/97 at 01:43:16
In your condition, a broken bone or ruptured organ could last *forever*...
The Interrogator
- 06/28/97 at 01:07:20
Jamie -- You say there's not much with which one can threaten the dead. Have you
forgotten PAIN?
The Interrogator
Guess? - 06/28/97 at 00:56:01
Kate! We will miss your sardonic or satorial? wit! A whole ten days? Say it isn't so!!
I tremble to think what will await you in this guest book upon your return. And poor Dev!
See you soon, TMD, Noel
Noel
USA - 06/27/97 at 23:23:57
My goodness! I finished dinner whilst held in the thrall of this FofF guestbook--I feel
as if I am in one of those mystery theatre dinner club things! Who will be next captured
in the rose bush's thorny embrace? Will Raz wake up clutching another turnip or Sofia?
Whose toenails will be the next to go? Until the next installment...
Noel
Alexandria, VA USA - 06/27/97 at 23:21:19
Claudia!You shock me - but perhaps we can lay that comments at the feet of the Sheriff,
with whom you also spent so much time. You're right, you have been with these men without
a chaperone, but we all assume the highest intentions and propriety - and who would I be
to talk? I'll introduce you at dinner, (sigh) unless Hans becomes disorderly or maniacal
or suicidal or devilishly diverting. And Jamie, that is an *excellent* observation - one
which, with all your vitality - had escaped me.
Renie
CA, USA - 06/27/97 at 23:10:08
I'm touched by all this sudden interest in my welfare, but I think a certain over-zealous Interrogator ought to know that there isn't a whole lot one can do to threaten someone who is already dead. Furthermore, although I do, admittedly, have m y flaws, a lack of imagination is not one of them-- and I can think of several quite interesting ways in which to curb our friend's enthusiasm, should it get out of hand. In short, Mr. I., unless you'd like that "haunted look" of yours to become rather t oo genuine, I'd direct your talents elsewhere-- you know I'm very sensitive to pain.
To the rest of you, I'm feeling much warmer now... and since Claudia's made her
request, I think I'll dig out my bow and put my cello back to its proper use. Mozart,
anyone?
Jamie
By the fire - 06/27/97 at 23:02:58
Yes, Ed does sound very nice, and very much like me (I do computers too - very
versatile {I hate not having a spell check on here})... Perhaps you can introduce me
during dinner and we can talk. I think I should find a more public place than a bedroom ,
otherwise people will talk, and I will get an undesired reputation - without having had
all the fun. Anyway, Jamie seems a lot happier, now he is finally warm. So Mr I, you can
bugger off with that barbeque. OOPS! That wasn't very ladylike language. ..
Claudia
nz - 06/27/97 at 22:49:44
And Hans, dear, if you need to speak with me further, it might be better for both of us
if you sat next to me at dinner in a calm, polite and *public* place. If you persist in
your pursuit I may pass out!
Renie
CA, USA - 06/27/97 at 22:44:08
You're welcome, Claudia. Didn't you say that you were an artist? Ed seems very sweet
and very computer literate, but I don't know about that pink mural either. And Mr. I., put
away your playthings before you get into trouble - again. Isn't one run-in a day enough?
Renie
CA, USA - 06/27/97 at 22:39:14
Jamie -- I have a small barbecue; I could use it to warm you up if you'd like. Who
knows, you might never feel cold again...
The Interrogator
USA - 06/27/97 at 22:34:48
Thanks Renie - I think I hear Hans calling you.... Jamie, I don't know what they all
must think of me. For the past two days I've made lots of new friends here. But I seem to
be caught in a room alone with a different man each time... Really, it has been perfectly
innocent, as this is. Just talking, as we are now... I haven't met a man here yet, that I
have a great deal in common with. The sherrif had this thing about bondage, so I left him
all tied up! Elliot was a bit too Australian, and too f orward... I did think I would hit
it off with Ed, but I haven't had a chance to talk with him yet. Anyway, I didn't intend
on making this a matchmaking visit. I'm just here on holiday, you know. You are great
company, and I love to listen to you talk, and play that cello. The only problem with the
cello is it can sound so depressing... Do you know anything "happy" you can play
on the cello?
Claudia
NZ - 06/27/97 at 22:30:53
Meine liebste Renie is hungry, but not for me...
Hans
- 06/27/97 at 22:23:19
(Knocking) Claudia? Sinclair and Sofia have sent me up with some sandwiches and a fresh
pot of chamomille, take the tray. I can't stay, I need to freshen up and get ready for
dinner. I think we may be trying to eat together tonight, in the main dinin g hall. Unless
I've got it wrong.
Renie
CA, USA - 06/27/97 at 22:17:23
Jamie - I'm glad you are feeling warmer. The jumper is New Zealand wool, so I hope it
isn't too scratchy. They breed the sheep there with especially silky wool. Now, I used to
play the piano, but that was a long time ago... Anyway, the piano is do wnstairs, and that
is a little too crowded. I can think of a few interesting games we could play, just the
two of us. Or, I could just listen to you talk for a while, you do have a lovely voice -
when you're not sneezing, that is. Here, have a Strepcil (sp?), it will sooth your throat.
Claudia
- 06/27/97 at 22:11:12
A picnic over two days old. Good thing I packed two more frocks. It seems very strange
that with all of the women who are enjoying or entrapping themselves at this picnic that I
don't overhear more. Maybe everyone is just too busy to keep us up to dat e. Or maybe
there are only virtual women here, with virtual posts being made? Why has no one new given
us a report on her whereabouts? Don't be shy, we are all friends here at Delaford. (I only
hear keyboards clicking in the rooms of Mary Anne and Sofia . A sunny thought - Maybe the
rest of you have laptops here.)...Hans, dear, I'm so glad you are safe. You should never
have gone after the Colonel like that; you are already wanted in America and a appointment
with Brandon will end either in sad impriso nment or your own... (falters, despite her
attempt to be composed. Bites her lip.) I do believe you to be true, I don't know how,
knowing what you've done in the past, but as Willoughby's reformation shows, people can
change. You may (Hans winces and sco wls) - alright, you *do* care for me. Maybe you just
need for someone to have faith in you and not fear you. Love can't exist with fear, you
have to move through it, the pain and fear, to find love. (Hans is genuinely crying. It's
not the thorns.) You know D.H. Lawrence? You startle, not just surprise me. I'm not asking
you to change who you are, but you need to examine what you do. You can start by swearing
off any revenge against the Colonel. If you love me, as you say you do, then consider any
assault against Brandon as a strike against my heart. And the other women here - don't you
see how many of them are besotted with his gentle ways? And he is protector and more
to...Hans firmly draws her near, their lips are about to meet...[(Old Tyme ra dio-type
music interrupts, complete with static) And now, a virtual commercial from a sponsor of
the June 1997 Delaford Picnic, <i/ TIDY-TUB! Ladies, do you have lots of wood furniture
at the estate which gets covered with beet stains and the like? D o you pop your corset
while scrubbing? Well, scrub ye no more - TIDY-TUB is the answer to your dreams. A giant
tub of hard-working lard cleans bannisters, flagstones, and pianotops like new. Remember -
with TIDY-TUB, there is no rub! (Music) We now return you to your regularly scheduled
picnic, still in progress.] Ladies, I may tell you all that happened in that small time,
but now I'll only say that Hans has taken an oath not to harm the Colonel, and to be civil
to him, if possible for the durati on of this affair. (You know, I mean the duration of
the *picnic*.) If I can find the Colonel, perhaps we can yet play a duet tonight or
tomorrow and bring some gentle focus and relaxation (at least for me!) to this rough and
tumble picnic. I wonder how long Sofie has supplies laid in. I know we are running low on
champagne and lemon custard....I need to change into something warmer. (Heading back....)
Renie
CA, USA - 06/27/97 at 22:09:08
There's a coincidence, Claudia: where I come from, it's winter too. Always bloody winter, it seems. But that sounds entirely too much like whining for my taste-- or yours, I'm sure. Anyway, these mittens of yours look promising: just let me--
Ah. That does feel better. Now excuse me for a moment while I pull this sweater over my
hmffsl vnk sms tt b-- ow! A bit scratchy, but I feel warmer already. Thank you very much
indeed. Would you mind poking the fire a bit? Splendid. Now (he said, leaning back and
stretching long legs out toward the blaze), by all means, let's talk. I've always been
rather good at talking. Or we could play something if you'd rather. Are you musical at
all?
Jamie
By the fire - 06/27/97 at 21:55:26
Jamie - I heard you were cold, and brought you these winter woolies, and some gloves.
It is supposed to be summer here, but where I come from it is winter, so I had all this
stuff in the suitcase. Help yourself. There seems to be rather a lot going on outside, do
you mind if I sit in the quiet here and talk with you for a while? The join the others
when you are warm - and things have calmed down a bit, and Mary Anne isn't feeling so
faint...
Claudia <clods@xtgra.co.nzfoo>
Whitby, NZ - 06/27/97 at 21:26:51
Here, Jamie: I've brought a few cords of wood and some boxes of newspaper. If I can manage to remember how to make a fire, we should be all set. (Fumbling, etc.; eventual success. The fire catches.) You know, that's why I made sure to put you in a room with a fire: so that you could heat it up as much as you wanted without having to affect the temperature of the entire house. I hear Sinclair muttering something about sandwiches, so I've got to go; come down and play for us when your fingers thaw out.
Sofia
Delaford - 06/27/97 at 20:33:38
It's all very nice of the Colonel to invite us all to his estate, charmed, I'm sure, etc., etc., and I don't want to come across as an ungrateful swine, but--
My room is freezing. This wretched fire's gone out, and I'm sitting here wrapped up in
the duvet, which is not very helpful. And I can't even play a bit of Bach to distract
myself because my fingers are numb. It's really, really, re ally frustrating. I just
thought I ought to let you know.
Jamie
USA - 06/27/97 at 20:01:25
And Renie -- am I wrong to think that the cheese in your sandwich is melting, just a
little, for me?
Hans
Again - 06/27/97 at 19:47:28
Renie, Geliebte -- I am here, hiding in the shrubbery behind the pagoda. After escaping
from the police I first went to the rose bushes -- OUR rose bushes, meine Renie -- but
Father Grigori was asleep in them. I think he has been drinking. It was fortu nate that I
met him, though: he rolled over, looked up at me, made the sign of the cross on my
forehead, and my handcuffs fell off. And I had been wondering how I could run my fingers
through your hair while wearing them -- now I need wonder no longer. In any case, Father
Grigori smelt too strongly of madeira for me to stay, so I thanked him and proceeded here,
where I lie exhausted, waiting for you. Please come. Don't tell the others where I am.
Hans
Behind the pagoda - 06/27/97 at 19:45:30
If I could just have some time to think! And I thought this was going to be a serene
picnic, as the Colonel imagined. And now the man who wants to play a duet with me til'
death do us part is after the man with whom I've practiced "scaling" the height
s (R adeptly dives behind the sideboard, avoiding stale toast points and even a pot of old
tea leaves.) Where are the hours of just relaxing, playing a bit of whist, or tickling the
ivories (or trout?)....(Huffing and puffing up the stairs) What are thes e violet
hanprints all over the bannister? (Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror upstairs)
Oh, I look a fright! Rose petals in my hair - how dreadfully embarassing. Better get those
out before I warn the Colonel. (Opening door to my room) Why, of a ll the...Raz! No, it's
far too early for that wine and I need a clear head; please climb out of there (Horrified
face) Purple everywhere. Pity that comforter. What am I saying! No time to lose (turns to
go and bumps directly into Brandon in doorway. His face is handsome, freshly scrubbed,
care-worn but rather hopeful as he stilly considers me.) "Miss Renie, I need to speak
with you about a great many things." A lump in my throat feels like diptheria and my
legs are shaking. "Your connection with a cer tain..." The Colonel steps closer
to me and only then takes in Raz, just rolling off the mottled and wine-soaked comforter.
His eyes widen in disbelief. His right eyebrow flies upward like a hawk. "No!",
I cry, "It's not what you think! I need to warn you!" "I...I - forgive me,
forgive me..." And with that he turns in his polished boots and dashs down the
stairs. Unwarned! Oh Raz, you unholy wretch. No, I don't imagine praying to the Great
Mother or even the Tsar will help matters. Sofia, if only you could have kept Raz from
that precious cargo! (Rather like trying to keep Eustacia Vye from men!) I hope Mary Anne
can take care of herself in the Conservatory, and that Brandon doesn't head there for
peace and quiet - the interrogator might his qui etus make instead! If anyone spies Hans
before I do, try to talk him out of the dagger, or into a little croquet! Wait, sirens!
(Glad these room have so many windows!) And Holy double-plot twist - Elliot, under the
belief that he has a score to esttle w ith the constabulary, and Dev, in a blow against
oppression and undemocratic rule, have routed the authorities! I see Mr. I and the Sheriff
heading toward the pond and Hans(!) in cuffs bolting towards the hedge maze. Brandon is
moving in the direction o f Mary Anne, and Raz is just clinging to my leg! Shto vwee
dyelaetye, Raz?
Renie
CA, USA - 06/27/97 at 18:31:18
From the Orchid Conservatory: Farewell, sweet Rickmaniacs all. I'm under no illusions
as to what is to become of me. Mr. I has won. My doom has come upon me. Of course, I don't
trust him as far as I could throw him with a barbecue grill tied to his leg --sweet
prospect, that--but if there's any chance I can keep him away from Colonel Brandon, then
risk it I must. If I survive, I'll be back--but wait! What's all this?! Scores of police
cars! Sirens! Flashing lights! What on *earth* is happening?! Officer , could I have a
word with you? [Brief period of nattering] HOLY PLOT TWIST! Remember that I pressed
charges against the Terrible Trio after their actions at the very first party? And that
Mary Anne v. Gruber et al never made it to trial, and they've been fugitives from justice
ever since? Well, those problems with the extradition paperwork finally got cleared up . .
. wait, there's Hans! In ha-- er, in cuffs. They've caught him! And there's Mr. I . . .
and finally the Sheriff, looking rather sheepish in his mink-lined chains. Wait, what's
Hans saying? Renie, he's calling for you. Better go to him, and I'll check on the Colonel
. . . hope he's finished changing his clothes. Wouldn't want to embarrass the poor man any
further, with all he's been through today already! 8-)
Mary Anne
USA - 06/27/97 at 17:48:51
(Coming around from my latest faint)--No, Kate! Don't leave! I need all the help I can
get here! (Faint groan) Why can't I manage to remain *conscious* at these get-togethers?!
I've never fainted in my life--well, not my real life, that is. Here, I swo on at the
least provocation. Guess it's a rule of this guestbook--"Survival of the
faintest." [Boos, groans, flinging of stale scones that now really are the
consistency of hockey pucks]Now, what was Renie saying? OH YES! Hans running loose with
the dagge r--saints preserve us! Quick, Renie! The Colonel went upstairs to change ; if
you hurry, you may just be able to warn him in time! I'll see if I can find Hans . . .
though goodness knows what I'll do if I find him. [A Delaford servant rushes up and hands
MA a note] Heavens to Murgatroyd, what now?! [Reads] "Mary Anne: I had Colonel
Brandon once and can take him again at my leisure. If you wish to save him, meet me in the
Orchid Conservatory to discuss terms." [MA turns pale. No signature--just a sketch of
a small silver thermos . . . ]
Mary Anne
USA - 06/27/97 at 17:25:48
Sorry about my pronouns: It was Signior Neroni who fell off the monument with his wife.
Sofia
Delaford - 06/27/97 at 17:10:46
I was out looking for Hans, hoping to avert further mayhem, when I ran into, of all
people, Obadiah, with an expression quite unlike his normal oily sanctimonious smirk, and
with NO GREASE IN HIS HAIR. This surprised me so much that I asked him what ha d happened,
and he told me the most extraordinary story. Apparently, after his conversation with Raz
in the piano room, he went out to sit by himself in the garden, and was so absorbed in
fuming about Raz's affrontery that he did not notice the approach o f the Interrogator.
(Who does have a knack for turning up at one's most vulnerable moments.) The Interrogator
asked what was the matter, and Obadiah told him, and the Interrogator told him that
according to his sources, which as we know are everywhere, wh en Signora Madeline Vesey
Neroni told him that she was 'free, free as the winds; will you take me as I am?', she was
in fact telling the truth. Apparently he had fallen off the Roman monument with her; but
whereas she had lost only the use of one leg, he had died. She had not told anyone, partly
because the circumstances were a bit embarrassing (she was not the only lady present on
that monument) and partly because she had, as she thought, no more use for love, and
wanted to have a convenient excuse ready to deter further suitors. However, she had
developed a bit of a soft spot for Obadiah, and the Interrogator assured him that if he
(O.) had been willing to sacrifice the world for love, she would have married him. Alas,
the Interrogator said, she has sin ce married a man -- a poet I think -- who was willing
to sacrifice the world's approval for the love of an invalid. She is deeply in love with
him. She has even begun to write poetry herself; some of it is rather good. This news
stunned Obadiah into silen ce; whereupon the Interrogator smiled one of his chilly smiles,
said that he hoped this information would prove useful, and disappeared. As far as I can
tell, Obadiah spent the next several hours wandering around in the formal maze in a state
of despair. (I suppose it would be ungenerous of me to suggest that his reflections might
have been in any way influenced by the fact that having chosen worldly success over love,
he did not in fact achieve it.) He began to wonder whether there was anything left to l
ive for, and was in fact on the verge of suicide when, apparently, the Virgin appeared to
him. He will not say anything about what she said, except that we owe the change in
hairstyles to her suggestion. But after he recovered, he sought Raz out and was r eceived
into the Russian Orthodox church; and when I met him he was just setting out, on foot, for
Mount Athos, where he intends to find a small cave and live the rest of his life in
seclusion and prayer. When I last saw him he was walking away from Delaf ord, repeating
the Jesus Prayer over and over under his breath.
Sofia
Delaford - 06/27/97 at 17:08:04
Dearest Friends: I fear that I will have no access to the realm of Rickmania for the
next 10 days. I shall waste away from homesickness, no doubt; but will hang on to
existence by the thought of all the lovely catching up that will keep me busy when I
return. I'll be with you in spirit until I can be with you in virtuality. Love you all
TMD....
Kate
Alexandria, VA USA - 06/27/97 at 16:43:27
Some of you probably have a few continuity questions, which I shall answer as best I
may. How did Mr. Willoughby know where to find the Colonel? Raz had a vision and told him.
How did W procure the key to the cell? Courtesy of the good services of M. E amon de
Valera, a good man to have at your side when planning a jailbreak. Meanwhile . . .
everyone had better turn out and search for Hans before he hurts someone. Goodness knows,
I've done all I can do here. Until I am needed again--
???
- 06/27/97 at 16:26:33
Hi everyone: I've been out for a lazy morning's boat ride with Sinclair, and I seem to
have missed all the excitement! We had a wonderful time, drifting around the lake admiring
the swans and talking. I probably could be persuaded to help out with the house plants,
incidentally, but I don't really think he's ready for all that yet. The catastrophe with
Natalie is still a bit raw. In any case, when we were walking back from the boathouse we
heard what sounded, oddly enough for the 19th century, like an airplane: and it was one,
landing on Delaford's back lawn. Apparently it belongs to a patriotic friend of Lukas
Hart's; it is supposed to be flying humanitarian assistance to the party-goers, but its
real cargo is an enormous quantity of Madeira. And, of all the luck, just then we heard a
great thumping from the potato cellar, and out stumbled Raz, looking bleary and
disheveled, with the most extraordinary purple hands. He perked right up when he saw the
Madeira, and started in on it immediately. So now w e have to worry not only about Hans
with a dagger coming after the Colonel and the Interrogator and so on, but a drunken holy
man staggering about in the midst of it all... AND I heard Elliott mumbling something
about how nice Delaford would be if only he could kill off everyone whose ancestors had
been in England since before the Norman Conquest...
Sofia
Delaford - 06/27/97 at 15:30:19
Good day all, John and I repaired to a nearby tea shop where we had a quite frank and
uncomfortable talk about virtue and responsibility. I have been taken in before but I
think that I was making progress. John even proposed (without any prompting f rom me) that
he owed it to Eliza and his child to provide them with an annuity that would provide for
them, if not luxuriously, at least comfortably. I hope that he never hears Fanny's views
on annuities. That woman is really beyond human compassion. I was pleased at John's
suggestion and was giving him the encouragement that it deserves when two men went by
carrying sinister-looking materials that incuded rope, a bag, and black ladies knickers...
John, the dear, left money for our libations and follo wed the procession toward Delaford
as covertly as possible. I hope that he takes care, this has the Interrogator written all
over it, and he has expressed an unhealthy interest in John's welfare. I know that one can
never undo one's past, but I d on't believe that John is insensible to the error of his
ways. With time and encouragement, I believe that he might turn over a new leaf - if he
manages to elude Mr. I...
Kate
Alexandria, VA USA - 06/27/97 at 15:07:18
You *don't* mean Willoughby! And I thought he only cared for the former Miss Grey and
her 50 thousand pounds! What a shock! I suppose there was something to his redeeming word
to Elinor after all...I am soooooo relieved that the Colonel is safe. His travail has only
worsened my woe at Hans' attentions which can never o'ercome my dedication to dear
Brandon. I am lost! I am so relieved to know that my necklace was only innocently lost,
and that Hans didn't....Oh Mary Anne, Hans at large on the grounds - with the dagger! Oh
heavens! I'm not so sure he's the type for an "amicable arrangement!"
Renie
CA, USA - 06/27/97 at 14:58:40
The mysterious rescuer has helped the Colonel onto a horse and they ride as if the devil (well, one of his accredited representatives, maybe) is at their heels. Brandon is still weak but rapidly regains his strength in the fresh, cool air. As they near Delaford, they draw rein and stop. "You can make it from here," says the mysterious figure. "I have reasons for not wishing to be seen at Delaford."
"Please," says the Colonel, "to whom do I owe my thanks?" With a heavy sigh, the rescuer pulls back his hood and removes his mask to reveal the face of . . . John Willoughby.
Brandon is speechless. Then, in amazement: "Why?"
Willoughby hesitates, then answers: "Sir, I have done you and yours many greivous wrongs, for which I neither ask nor expect your forgiveness--but . . ." Willoughby smiles. "I recently had a conversation with a very sensible lady named Kate. I cannot undo the past, but here was an opportunity for some self-respect, at least. I took it. Let it be said that I did one thing simply because it was good."
"But will you not come to Delaford and receive your thanks? I know many who would be glad to give it--"
"No, sir, that I will not. You will not be troubled by me again ; it was my honor to be of service in this matter. My best to your lady wife." Willoughby rides away into the trees. The Colonel stares after him, and murmurs, "I am eternally in your debt . . ."
The Colonel is spotted by the guests at Delaford. Exclamations of surprise, delight, relief.
Mary Anne faints dead away . . . sorry, can't resist! 8-)
???
- 06/27/97 at 14:11:27
Ah, Renie, would I could advise you now! I, of ladies most deject and wretched--and now
I know why Hans took my dagger away! If you value his life, dearest, keep him away from
me! But it does appear that there may be hope . . . and if the Colone l survives, I'm sure
there's some amicable arrangement we could all come to. Oh, and about your necklace . . .
I found it lying on one of the walkways in the hedge maze ; the clasp was broken. Quite
snapped in half, as a matter of fact, as if it had been rather, er, forcibly removed. Does
Hans always play that rough? Watch yourself!
Mary Anne
USA - 06/27/97 at 13:34:27
Mary Anne makes it downstairs and surprises Renie, who is feeding toast points and jam to Hans. They both wear a look of extreme, though sleepy, contentment. One look at MA's face and they surmise that something ghastly has happened ; when they hear of the Colonel's disappearance, they know only too well what MA intends to do. Brief struggle. Hans relieves MA of the dagger, though even he has a hard time contending with her in her present mood. About that time, Sofia is brought in barely conscious ; se ems the Colonel disappeared during their motorcycle ride. MA is weeping: "Has no man's dagger here a point for me?!" Kate attempts to calm her, to no avail.
None of them have seen the mysterious cloaked figure watching through the window, taking in the conversation. He stands irresolute a moment, then nods to himself as if making a decision and hurries away.
Scene changes to cell 132A in the domain of the Interrogator. The only light is one harsh, white spot in one corner of the cell, where we see the Colonel, semi-conscious. We can hear him muttering, "No, Brandon, don't think of it . . . think of something else . . . the lovely ladies . . . Delaford . . ." Silence while he struggles with some unbearable memory. Suddenly, there is the sound of a struggle in the hallway outside the cell. Gunshots. A grating sound and the lock gives. The door is flung open to reveal the mysterious figure, who is cloaked and masked. "Who--?" Brandon exclaims. "No time for that ; come with me." He assists the Colonel to his feet and out of the cell.
Who is the mysterious rescuer? How has he gained entry to the cell? What is his motive
for the rescue of the Colonel? For the answers to these questions, stay tuned . . .
???
- 06/27/97 at 13:24:12
All the intrigue going on around here is so entrancing. I afraid it's all going right to my head, which is usually not so dizzy. Ladies and gentlemen of the picnic, and those of you just watching with perhaps a more subjective eye, I need your help. Hans left me a letter. It reads, "Don't believe what they say about me. You know my tender side and have trembled in the moonlight with me. I can see even without your explicit refusal to my proposal that I only have one recourse. Come what may, Mr. B randon will not be joining us for the rest of his life. You make great sandwiches. And you will make them for me alone, or I shall never eat again. Hungry for you, my love - Hans." Ladies and Gentlemen, do you have advice for me? Should I believe his tenders, or are they springes to catch woodcocks? There is something else, and I'm at a loss to explain it - well, there's no use keeping this fact from you all - my necklace is missing. Before I go and find Colonel Brandon to warn him about Hans, I mus t have your collective advice! Ladies - hold not off!
I'm so happy to see that Sofia (love the indigo silk - so flattering!) has been working
wonders with Sinclair. Sofia, I'd hazard that maybe you could be persuaded to tend to his
plants and dust t he place? I'd like to get around to meeting him, but he seems so
thrilled to have gotten the portable dishwasher you ordered for Delaford to work. He keeps
opening the door mid-cycle and smiling. Picturing you with Mr. O'Hara tooling about -
sounds mar velous but is bound to draw comments from town, and might make it all the way
to Sussex. Also nice to see that Emma is drawing Jacques further out of his cave and into
the 20th century. Claudia, - (brrrr) The word pleasure and the interrogator cannot b e
placed in the same room. Hans really is an angel next to him! As for meeting him - do not
desire it! And Mary Anne, especially I need your advice (although I'm not sure you've been
so level-headed lately (lately, what am I saying lately?) What is goi ng on with you and
the interrogator, you look like you're headed for disaster and if Hans has his way, the
Colonel won't be able to protect you!) Hey - Do you think Miracle-Gro will help those
roses? ;-)
Renie <reniept@hotmail.comfoo>
CA, USA - 06/27/97 at 13:18:06
My dear, my very dear Interrogator: IF YOU'VE DONE THE COLONEL ANY HARM WHATSOEVER--!!!
[Mary Anne breathes deeply, again, again. This is no time to be impulsive] Perhaps, Mr. I,
you have read Malory? "Ah, sir . . . is there none other grace wi th you? Then guard
yourself!" [MA changes into her favorite femme fatale black--not the spaghetti strap
number, which was seriously damaged at the last party, but a dangerous, ruthless,
long-sleeved, wing-shouldered, avenging -angel-from-"yo u know where,"
kick-anatomy sample of haute couture--conceals an ornamental dagger in the folds of the
skirt, and heads downstairs. Interrogator, beware!]
Mary Anne
USA - 06/27/97 at 09:15:57
Hi everyone. I would have checked in earlier, but I've been busy... Finding myself with
P.L. O'Hara and Colonel Brandon (who was feeling somewhat drained after the episode with
Mary Anne and Willoughby), I had the odd but somehow (I think) inspired idea of getting
P.L. to teach the Colonel how to ride his motorcycle. One thing led to another, and we
ended up riding off with a hamper full of food to a lovely spot in the neighboring
countryside. P.L. was supposed to follow on horseback, but I think he got lost. The
Colonel is a natural with motorcycles, and sitting on it in his f ull dress uniform, he's
one of the most gorgeous anachronisms I can imagine. And his hair got all mussy (since
P.L. doesn't use a helmet, neither could we. Imagine my chagrin.) We had a really nice
talk -- I now know which spices the air in the Indies is full of. On the way back I think
I saw Lukas Hart III trying to look inconspicuous and talking into a cell phone. Now I
think I'll change into my indigo silk gown...
Sofia
Delaford - 06/26/97 at 22:38:50
Good day to you ladies and gentle persons... (stretches and yawns)... That was an
interesting party last night. I met lots of new friends. Who is this Interrogator? I don't
think I have had the "pleasure" before? He sounds as though he would be a f
riend of Renie's bel,oved.. that cold German fellow. I talked for a long while with the
sheriff - he claims he is misunderstood - and it is all to do with his childhood... May
have something in common with Willoughby... On second thoughts - na! The sheriff is still
asleef - hanging from the walls by some fetching mink-lined chains. He says he is
comfortable, though I think this has something to do with his childhood again. He is still
a big kid who wants his own way - but he didn't get it! I think I would have been better
off with Ed, a fellow artist, but I didn't like to intride on his work - the pink mural
does look good in the daylight, but I'm sure Colonel Brandon doesn't think so! What do you
use to remove beetroot juice? I think I wil l go and lend a hand with the tidying up, or
are we starting the party all over again?
Claudia <clods@xtra.co.nzfoo>
NZ - 06/26/97 at 21:14:56
How did I end up in potato cellar? Why do I have purple hands? Where is Katya? And why
do I have my arms around this enormous turnip?
Raz
- 06/26/97 at 21:10:11
My abject apologies: there has been a slight error on the part of our Records Division.
The prisoner in 132B is not, I find, Brandon after all. I hope no one was unduly alarmed;
again, my humblest apologies for this inexplicable mistake. (Faint smile.)
The Interrogator
Right behind you - 06/26/97 at 20:43:45
Mary Anne: So you look to the Colonel to be your preserver? We have had him in custody
these eight hours. He is proving to be a most recalcitrant subject.
The Interrogator
- 06/26/97 at 18:53:51
Where *is* that spooky music coming from . . . ? Must be Jamie on the cello. As for
you, Mr. I--1) Okay, okay: I've put my life in *danger*, then. 2) My toenails are right
where I left them, thank you! (i.e., in a dish beside the sofa, where I placed t he most
recent clippings to be emptied. Doesn't do to have long toenails with some of these
unsavoury types about.) 3) I'm basically a kind, decent person (MA glowers about to see if
she'll be contradicted. Isn't. Proceeds), so I'll give one last warning: trouble me again
and you'll have the Colonel after you. Please believe me, Mr. I--you don't want to see him
lose his temper . . . persist, and it will be the worse for you!
Mary Anne
USA - 06/26/97 at 17:56:02
And further, there has been a violation of the alleged "H****" law by you,
Mary Anne, repent quickly and you shall come to no harm.
The Interrogator
Closer than you think, - 06/26/97 at 17:46:17
Mary Anne: So you think it was the Colonel who escorted you upstairs last night? Have
you checked your toenails recently?
The Interrogator
Where you least expect me - 06/26/97 at 17:37:21
Oh, and Colonel, about that riding crop: you misunderstood my expression, sir. Compared
to the tongue-lashing you gave me on that occasion, the other kind would have been far
easier to bear, believe me. I know every word of it was out of concern for my well-being
and I bear absolutely no ill-will. As for today--yes, I know I did a dangerous thing, but
I didn't know what W. planned to do with that gun! I didn't know if he planned to shoot
you, or me, or himself, or all of us. What would you have had me do, sir?!
Mary Anne
USA - 06/26/97 at 17:36:49
Bravo, Kate! About time someone told Mr. I where to get off. (I've probably just taken
my life in my hands . . .) At least he's had the decency, though, to leave me alone at
this picnic--so far. I have only the vaguest memory, after the Colonel helped me upstairs
to rest after the shooting incident, of someone sitting by the couch, gently patting my
arm and murmuring "Sleep--go to sleep." Don't seem to have been assaulted by
Hans or the Sheriff either, though the Vicomte stepped in for a while to ask h ow I liked
the swordfighting demonstration he conducted on the lawn with Tybalt. Cheers to
both--superb technique, although Valmont was somewhat hampered by that long white coat.
And Renie, dear, I'm glad to see you're none the worse for your encounter wi th Hans!
"Angelic-looking," you say? That's always when he's most dangerous! Step light,
dear . . . oh, and Renie, I won't say a word to the Colonel about how his roses wound up
in such appalling condition . . . 8-) [MA adopts evil grin of potentia l blackmailer]
Mary Anne
USA - 06/26/97 at 17:26:29
Hi all. I had a long conversation with Sinclair last night. I gather it has been about
two months since Natalie died. He had expected the funeral to be huge, but almost no one
but Richard bothered to show up, so he and Richard had to eat all the food themselves.
Which, he says, was probably a good thing, since conversation might have been a bit
awkward. Eventually Richard left, taking with him the various pets and the unfortunate
appliance (Sinclair told him that Natalie wanted him to have them, but he didn't say why);
and since then, I gather, Sinclair hasn't left the house at all. In a fit of jealous
desperation which he says he finds entirely illogical, he hired a private detective to
follow Natalie a few months before she died; he seems to have spent the whole time since
her death watching the tapes over and over. At first he occasionally to ok breaks to stare
out the conservatory windows, but after a while the plants had gotten so out of control
that they blocked the windows entirely. He's been living on takeout food served on
disposable plates, since he can't bear to use the washing-up mach ine. It sounds awful.
I've talked him into hiring one of those housecleaning services run by energetic
unemployed students to prune the houseplants and dust the place and so forth; he called
them this morning. And I gather he did burn the surveillance tap es of Natalie, together
with his entire collection of answering machine tapes, before he left. We had a wonderful
walk around the trout pond this morning: it was misty and green and gorgeous, and I think
he enjoyed it. (Especially when he heard all the trout laughing -- I should have known
they were being tickled.) I left him eating a huge breakfast, which I think is a good
sign.
Sofia
Delaford - 06/26/97 at 17:04:51
Mr. I, Thank you for your kind(?) offer to "teach" Willoughby the error of
his ways, but I think that you missed the point (rather unusual for you, to miss anything
pointy). I was trying to convey that we should pity rather than condemn this poor crea
ture who knows no better. What torment could be greater than to know that he has ruined
one innocent girl and lost the only woman that he ever truly loved? Leaving him to stew in
his own juices is a more terrible torture, I think, than even you could de vise. There is
no<i/ excuse for cruelty. Please put your pliers away. I really think that you must not
have had proper nurturing in your childhood. If I weren't certain that you would torment
me and call me a closet whore, I should gladly provide the affection that you so obviously
lacked. My heart bleeds for you, but I intend for that the be the only part of my anatomy
that does!!!
Kate
Alexandria, VA USA - 06/26/97 at 16:51:02
Emma: Well, Jaques, how do you like the flan?
Jaques: "More, more, I prithee, more."
Emma: Certainly (serves more, flirting) I'm very appreciative of certain people liking my
cooking, since I'm not a fancy cook.
Jaques: (finishing up his seconds) "I thank it. More, I prithee, more."
Emma: (spooning up more caramel over the flan) Here you go.
Jaques: "As I live by food..."
Emma: Well, when you're done, what do you say we go for a swim? I,m ready for some sun and
water now that the party's died down some.
Jaques: (puts aside his now clean plate) "I met a fool who laid him down and bask'd
him in the sun"
Emma: (aside) The poor man's not over being in this time warp. (to Jaques) Oh! You must be
talking about Dennis. Don't mind him, he's harmless even when he doesn't wear clothes.
Well, see you at the pool.(picks up her towel and leaves.
Jaques: "I'll go sleep, if I can"
Emma
USA - 06/26/97 at 16:24:11
Kate, There is no need to linger in the hedgerows with Willoughby. I would be more than
happy to take him in hand myself. I feel certain that with a bit of firm persuasion he can
be made to see the precise nature and degree of his deviations. As you say, no one can
teach him- or herself morality; that is why it is so crucial that there be those, like
myself, who can offer just such instruction, and can mold recalcitrant spirits into their
proper shapes. I have brought my pliers.
The Interrogator
Everywhere - 06/26/97 at 15:26:48
Willoughby's lack of character is (not are) in part ... (I talk reel good)
Kate
Alexandria, VA USA - 06/26/97 at 14:39:14
Well, everyone!
Sorry to be so delayed, but there wasn't a carriage or cart to be found on the entire island, so I had to walk. I was delayed about five miles from Delaford. (Although some silly woman asked where I was headed and told me that it co uldn't be above three. She might have been persuaded to give me a lift, but I was afraid that she wouldn't have taken a breath the entire trip. Her husband gave me a look of pleading for euthanasia.... Whether he meant me to relieve his suffering by r emoving him from the world or removing her from the world, I couldn't tell and didn't want to find out.)
I was walking down the path and heard inconsolable sobbing from the hedgerow. I peered around and found Willoughby, woebegone. Apparently, the Col onel had driven him from Delaford and away from his beloved. I shall endeavour to give him some small comfort; I cannot bear to see him so disconsolate, even though he brought his fate on himself. Who among us does not have some youthful indiscretion of which she is ashamed. Willoughby's lack of character are in part a result of never having been gainsaid and having entirely too much time and money at his disposal. A child cannot teach itself discipline or morals, and Willoughby was apparently not tau ght by anyone else. Besides, blackguards named John are my specialty. My past is littered with men who could join to form "Sociopaths R Us" and the heads of the pack are all named John. Maybe there's something in the name itself....
I am at si xes and sevens because I had promised Sinclair that I would spend time with him and in his present situation (house pets are perverse, and perverted, enough, but kitchen appliances are just doing it too brown!!!) I really hate to miss him. I had a lso hoped to meet Mr. de Valera and see whether we could come to some sort of a truce. I really admire his dedication and his cause, but I fear that my plain speaking may have alienated him forever. It goes without saying that I have been eagerly antici pating seeing all of you. I miss Queen Sandy; we haven't seen hide nor hair of her for quite a while. I hope that she is merely busy with ruling her lands and that the interrogator hasn't whisked her off somewhere.
Well, if I'm ever going to be able t o partake of the party (I'm so glad that I had the
presence of mind to send the scones ahead with Noel (Thanks, Noel :-} )), I should get
back to Willoughby and see whether I can calm him down to the point where he can return to
his wife. She's arrogan t, but no one can deny that she's a lovely creature. Until
then....
Kate
Alexandria, VA USA - 06/26/97 at 14:35:49
Entry from the Colonel's diary: 26th June, 1997. 2:15 AM. I have left the party still
in progress downstairs ; I must confess it has not proceeded as I had planned. I had
envisioned a peaceful picnic . . . Many pleasant moments, to be sure: Renie's del ightful
playing, for one. She has taken my instruction very well, though she did seem to wish to
spend a great deal of time on fingering, for some odd reason. Sofia has been a great help
; she is hostess for me at this very moment. But other incidents . . . I don't like the
looks of that fellow, Gruber. I fear for Renie, who seems quite taken with him. And as for
Mary Anne, I fear I must be more firm with her. When she flung herself at Mr. W. to try
and protect me, I thought my heart would burst. I do not at all regret taking her under my
protection, but it is proving a more difficult task than I had anticipated. I had thought
our last discussion would prove sufficient to induce her to control her impulsiveness--ah,
that impulsive temperament, how sweet a nd yet how perilous! The poor child seemed
actually frightened of me on that occasion ; perhaps it was because I had been out riding
to calm myself and was still carrying my riding crop when I called on her. Oh, but she
need never fear such bestial conduc t from me ; I could not strike a woman. As to Mr. W,
let him not be named here. How dare he show his face here, asking for pity?! What pity has
he shown me, or the daughter of my dear Eliza? And his infamous conduct to my darling wife
. . . ah, let it pass. To speak of these things . . . it is dangerous. I had best sleep
now--and in the morning, I will have to inquire further into what force of nature
destroyed a whole bank of my finest roses in the South Garden.
Christopher Brandon
England - 06/26/97 at 14:25:09
Hours later: The guest rooms here are quintessential Brandon; they need a woman's touch, despite the addition of cut flowers and amenities which I suspect were more the work of Sofia and others who worked their magic at Delaford this Wednesday past. The Mac's and fax machines are a nice touch. After being surprised by Hans (yes, it was Hans) we went down to the pools beyond the hedge maze. I did not say "Put me in your pocket, Hans." The moon's reflection was indeed trembling in the dark waters an d Hans calmly "confessed" his love for me. He spoke these words as if they were coming from some part of him he did not know: "Because thou hast the power and ownÕst the grace to see through and behind this mask of me against which years have beat thus bl anchingly with their rains and behold my soulÕs true face." What was I to do? What would you do? I listened wordlessly, my heart aching, my soul bursting, and my han..errr, my terminal part of my vertebrate forelimb tickling the trout with a nearby sti ck. (I can still hear their laughing.) Perhaps I should have spoken sooner to stop what happened next. He actually asked me to marry him. For the second time in one day I was rendered speechless. (You all know how rare *that* is.) Hans guessed from my pained face that while I greatly admire him, Brandon stood betwixt us, like a the middle piece of bread in a triple-decker club sandwich. Hans insisted we could just remove that piece and we could become two halves of one whole. I objected that with so many ingredients - you've got your turkey, your bacon, your lettuce - they would simply disassemble and fall to the ground in a hopeless tangled mess. No, we did not follow the fate of the aforesaid ingredients; Hans instead surprised me again by leapin g into the pond a la Darcy, fully clothed. Dripping, he emerged with an inscrutable smile, and, declaring that all the talk of food had made him hungry, we headed toward a warm fireplace in front of which I now sit. All that remains unburned are a few c harred remnants of toast corners which fell beyond the grate. We snacked, and I tucked him into the huge white comforter, into which he fell like clotted cream. He's sleeping, and looks incredibly angelic for a hood.
I believe that many of the gue sts will be waking and gathering again, but I can't keep
my eyes open any longer. I did hear a shot and looked out the window, and thought I saw
Willoughby riding towards Combe Magna. When I wake from this comfy wing-chair I must talk
with Mary Anne. I also thought I heard Claudia's voice with the sheriff's. She may have
some explaining to do. That sounds like the sound of a motorcycle, actually.
Renie
CA, USA - 06/26/97 at 13:01:57
Well, hello everyone! At last I have made it to the actually picnic! As someone
unrelated to our purposes once said, what a long strange trip it's been. Having had so
much trouble with that d*** barouche I also elected to abandon that in favor of an of fer
from a handsome actor named P.L. that I met along the road. He was looking for a little
chap he thought he would recognize, but never found him. Anyway, since I lately seem to
have this propensity for collecting the unwashed and unwanted (And Raz, how did you get to
the party before me when I couldn't even keep you heading in the same direction for 5
minutes at a time?), I accepted his offer to ride on his Norton to Delaford. He has lent
me a pair of jodhpurs, a rugby sweater and a leather jacket. We make quite the
anachronistic pair here in the English country-side. It still took a little longer than I
expected even riding on the bike since P.L. kept wanting to ride down to the dockside. I
don't know why. So, where is the bar...
Lisa
USA - 06/26/97 at 11:23:42
Overheard in the South Rose Garden: "Renie, herzchen, liebchen! Please don't cry .
. . I didn't mean to hurt you or frighten you. I should have left the detanators at home,
I suppose . . ." [Low, indistinguishable murmuring]"My, that is an excep
tional--and very valuable-looking . . .necklace you're wearing . . ." [Low
chuckling]"Oh, you don't trust me, do you? I suppose you had better frisk me, then .
. ."
My lips are sealed . . .
USA - 06/26/97 at 10:44:19
Dear ladies: so sorry to cause such alarm. Yes, I did miss my first guess about Mr.
W.--but he did show up later at the worst possible moment. The Colonel had gone with me
for a quiet walk on the terrace, to tell me how pleased he was that I was behaving well,
had not gotten into any trouble, that he was proud of me, etc. And who should come riding
through shadows . . . ! This time it was him, all right. No mistake. Willoughby had
finally been driven to desperation. The minute he came in sight, the Colonel thrust me
behind him and ordered W off the premises immediately. You shoudl have seen his face . . .
brrrr! Cold and hard as English pewter, and approximately the same grayish color. But W
merely dismounted--he was distraught, a maddened glitter in his eye--fell to his knees on
the flagstones, and begged Colonel Brandon to kill him and put him out of his misery! I
simply couldn 't repress a sob . . . The Colonel's expression softened slightly, but he
said that W's misery was of his own choosing and he should endure as a man. At this point
Mr. W lost it entirely. He reached into his coat and pulled out a pistol!!! I feared he
meant to shoot the Colonel and flung myself at him, at which point Colonel Brandon came
after both of us but stopped when he saw that W. had his arm around my neck and was waving
the pistol wildly about. I elbowed Willoughby in the stomach to give the Colonel and
opening ; there was a brief three-way struggle--and the gun fired. But, I am glad to
report, harmlessly into the air. At this point all the fight went out of W. and he turned
to me with the most tragic expression and said, "You, of all the la dies, at least
pitied me." I burst into tears and the Colonel put his arm protectively around my
shoulders. Mr. W. then rode away, his shoulders slumped, looking like a dead man already.
The Colonel helped me into the house. I've been upstairs recovering, with the help of Mrs.
Jennings. So . . . all is well. Quite a few interesting types have looked in on me up here
. . . including one gentleman who must have been a doctor, because he kept asking me,
"Are you in good health? Are you taking any medication? Do you have any physical
condition I should know about?" Hmmm . . . who was that man? He looks familiar,
somehow . . . Anyway, I'm quite well. Thanks for asking after me, everyone!
Mary Anne
USA - 06/26/97 at 09:33:36
Oh - how quiet it is down here now... I don't know what happened to Elliot. We came
into the house some hours ago, to find the Colonel. I had a brief discussion with him, and
Elliot must have got the hump, as he disappeared. Nevermind - while walkin g the corridors
of the house, trying to find him, I came across a dark figure - none other than the
sherrif. He said - you - my room... bring a friend.. Well, I couldn't find a friend to
bring, but he took me to an interesting room, with lots of leather , and we had a very
interesting discussion... Renie, Sofia, are you still awake, or joined the other guests in
their slumber. And what ever happened to Mary Anne this evening, I don't think I've seen
her once. If you are all retiring, I might go back and find that rogue, the sherrif..
Claudia <clods@xtra.co.nzfoo>
Whitby, NZ - 06/26/97 at 04:18:11
The party seems to be winding down, at least for now. Jamie has taken himself off to a
guest room with a fireplace, carrying at least four large down comforters. Ed, who spent
much of the evening painting a mural in beet juice on what had been the Colonel's lovely
wedgewood blue walls, has fallen asleep in a corner. Mr. I has turned up at last; I saw
him talking to Obadiah with a chilly little smile after the piano room episode; as I
passed I heard the name 'Signora Vesey Neroni', and shortly afterwards a muffled cry from
Obadiah. I would have gone to see what was wrong had I not run into Sinclair, who was
looking a bit stricken. After a while I pieced together the awful truth: apparently it was
a disastrous idea to give Natalie the impression that wildly inappropriate relationships
are a good way to revive one's marriage. She went through a few more patches of insecurity
and ennui after breaking with Richard; she tried to resume their relationship but since
he, sanely, would have none of it, she had a series of torrid relationships with household
pets, and just last month was killed while attempting to seduce a kitchen appliance of
some sort. (He won't say which.) Sinclair is devastated; I'm going to see if I can't
console him, so I probably won't be around for a while. But I wonder where Renie is? And
what about Mary Anne???
Sofia
Sleepy, In Delaford - 06/26/97 at 03:33:37
Thanks, Dev. Yes, I've got a napkin full of oatmeal scones, I think I'll be fine here.
Is that Sofia I hear calling? Isn't that timing for you. Would you be a dear and find out
what she wants? But I suppose I'd best be off to join the Colonel in my duet at last. I
did hear shouting from the music room, but now it's strangely quiet. If only this estate
weren't so large. And I didn't know that the South Rose Garden adjoined a hedge maze. I do
believe the way back is this - ooommmmfff. (Sounds of m uffled protest. A broken stem.
Petals shed like tears down the cheeks of the garden. Scattered oatmeal scones.)
Renie
CA, USA - 06/26/97 at 02:42:35
FINALLY Raz has climbed off the piano, and it's all thanks to Obadiah. He came over
while Raz was in the middle of a particularly, um, explicit dance maneuver and said
something pointed about the behaviour appropriate to the clergy, even clergy attached to
heretical and idolotrous sects. Raz stopped, stared at him, and said 'You tell me how monk
should act?', waving at Obadiah. (I thought he might fall off the Broadwood Grand. This
has been a danger all along, actually, owing to the amount of Madeira Raz has consumed.
But I digress.) He lurched down from the piano, walked over until his face was about three
inches from Obadiah's, and said 'YOU tell ME?? I see everything about you. Always you
think about you: your money, your prospects, your plans. Is all noise! God hears this and
his ears hurt! So God say: I will give this tiny man one chance. I will make him love one
other person. Is woman on couch. Is married woman, but no matter. So God touched you and
gave you this gift, to see whether there was any way to make you big man, with heart, like
Father Grigori. But was no good. You are no big man. You are NO big man!' And then he
passed out on the floor. We have taken him into another room and put him on a sofa.
Obadiah went off looking as if he'd seen a ghost. Everyone else looks slightly stunned.
So, Renie, now might be a VERY good time to suggest a duet...
Sofia
- 06/26/97 at 01:29:05
Oh, dash it all. Just when I was getting my courage up and my fingers ready for
something other than a keyboard. I can hardly keep a stern or solemn face with Father
Gregori atop the BG, but I'm sure that the Colonel won't be pleased. (Claudia, if yo u and
Elliot find him, ix-nay on the iano-pay.) And aren't there purple stains being traipsed
through the corridors, and those beaten rugs! And where does one find a gypsy in these
parts? I suppose she could have followed him all the way here, poor wre tch. Dev has been
a supremely interesting escort. It seems there are many sides to these complicated men. We
talked of prison reform; he is for making them more humane, but can't understand why we
don't address the root causes of why people violate rul es of the state: oppression,
economics, no stake in the governance and control of their lives. When I pointed out that
it is much the same this very minute and in many parts of the world, he seemed astonished
and got a magnificent gleam in his eye. And surprisingly, he can be funny! He has many
stories of close escapes from the authorities, one of which involves a turkey dinner, two
nuns, and a clothesline. We did chat about the Church a bit - his stint as altar boy at
the prison chapel (wearing flow ing white, uh, what are they called, vestments(?)) - but
also more serious matters. Did you know that a religious man he has been torn about many
of the violent acts which have since ripped through his country? He also - Oh, hello, Dev.
Thank-you, yes, t he second batch of flan is better because Emma's first recipe was
topless. (You know, Sofia, I just realized that neither the Sheriff nor the interrogator
has been seen and that scamp Mary Anne is also, once again, missing. Do you think they
could be up to something? Is the Pope Catholic?) Dev, it's a bit cool, now that it is
evening, would you please take a turn with me in the South Rose Garden, I have an
appointment of sorts with a sharply dressed gent, you'll recognize him, he looks like you,
but w ithout a tuxedo.
Renie
CA, USA - 06/26/97 at 00:51:00
There is a slight hitch about the duets: Raz has gotten into the Madeira and is dancing
on the piano with a gypsy he picked up somewhere. I'm not sure whether or not this is an
improvement over his previous activities: he was trying to make the Borscht recipe, or so
he said; what he seemed to be doing was trying to smash beets on the flagstones one after
another. (I think he brought the beets himself.) When that didn't work, he started hitting
them with vodka bottles. I suggested a cuisinart, but he said 'is not how mama made
borscht', and started to try to grind the beets into the flagstone with his bare hands.
All things considered, I think I prefer the piano-dancing. But poor Colonel Brandon: not
only can he not play his duet with Renie, largish areas of his flagstone court are now
stained purple...
Sofia
Delaford - 06/26/97 at 00:03:56
So Claudia and Elliot have hit it off. We are almost ready for the musical diversions -
I assume everything is ready inside, Sofia? I am nervous about the duet, but I'm sure
everyone will be forgiving if I fluff a note or two. (Although I'm hardly as good as
Jamie, and it won't be Bach.) If Hans is in search of me, I don't know *where* he's been
looking. I believe Raz is making his way to the picnic only now, Lisa having left him in
order to make it to the picnic at all. I have also noticed rustling in the bushes, and it
hasn't been me. (Blushing) Well, it hasn't been *all* me....I'm ready to go inside and -
Dev, you look startling handsome in that tux. Wait, let me wipe your lips, tsk, tsk, petit
fours crumbs....
Renie
CA, USA - 06/25/97 at 22:31:43
Obadiah has finally induced the bartender to show him the acceptable wine, which he
seems to be enjoying very much. Dev has gotten into his tux and is wandering about,
wondering why no one is talking to him. I can't, since I'm out of favor just now; will
anyone else do the honors? Jamie and some of the guys are playing something melancholy by
Bach, and Ed has been trying to convince some of us to model for a sort of installation
based loosely on 'Dejeuner Sur L'Herbe'. But I've told him this is not the sort of web
page where women remove their clothes, for however worthy and artistic a purpose. Besides,
the Colonel would be shocked. Sinclair has been looking a bit disturbed; at one point he
said "These mechanical rotisseries are really EXTREMELY interesting...", broke
off with a strange, almost frozen look on his face, and I thought he might start to cry.
He didn't seem to want to talk about it, so I taught him how to make S'Mores, which seems
to have helped a bit. He has been eating them ever since. Hans we know is in pursuit of
Renie, and the Colonel is with his piano. But where is Raz? Where is the Sheriff? And
(ominously) where is the Interrogator???
Sofia
Delaford - 06/25/97 at 22:24:00
Elliot - I would be pleased to walk inside with you - but not alone of course... I am
from Cambridge originally, so well aquainted with the English weather. It is winter in New
Zealand now... so I know where I would rather be. Please, let us find the Colonel.
Claudia
NZ - 06/25/97 at 22:21:29
Renie - thought Mr Marston had designs on you... (And I am originally from England -
near Cambridge, but relocated to New Zealand 10 years ago...) I would hate to intrude. And
I did just visit the Rose garden, and was worried to see a tall dark figure in a cloak,
with the most peircing eyes, and wavey dark hair. He did look a little fay, so I left in a
hurry. Not the place for a lady to be on her own. He didn't follow me, I think, but I am
worried for the saftey of others, so I should stick in pair s. Perhaps I will adjurn
inside and warn the Colonel of this person's presence. (Be still my fluttering heart!)
Claudia
NZ - 06/25/97 at 22:18:48
Ah yes, thank you for correcting the spelling of my name. Computers are rather
unfamiliar turf for me. Soooo Claudia, you are from New Zealand? What a long way you have
travelled to get here. I hope you do not get a chill since this climate is much damper
than what you are used to. Perhaps you would allow me to escourt you inside the house
where we can find someplace warm and comfortable to get better acquainted? I see by the
look in your eyes that the gentlemen with the German accent, Hans, I be lieve he is
called? is distressing you. Do not be afraid, I will protect you. Would you care for some
more tea, or perhaps something stronger to ward off the chill?
Elliott
Delaford, UK - 06/25/97 at 22:14:31
Claudia, meet Mr. Marston. Note the spelling. (Thank-you, Maxine.) And Jacques.
(whispered) I believe they are unescorted right now, so help yourself. Claudia here hails
from New Zealand, Mr. Marston. How about just Elliot? Seems more appropriate for a bloke
like you. And she hasn't seen the North Rose Garden yet. I have just come from indoors,
where Colonel Brandon is preparing the Broadwood Grand for some performances. I'm sure
he'd love to see you too, Claudia. Has anyone seen Hans, I know it's not evening yet, but
I was just wondering.
Renie
CA, USA - 06/25/97 at 21:44:42
Sofia - I see way you mean, as I look round the garden, I see many people talking
intently behind bushes. At least that is what I think they are doing?! I have yet to find
the Col. Brandon, who I did hope to meet on this visit. I know he is spoken f or (I think
a lot of ladies lay claim to his affections). I had hoped he had a younger brother, or
friend who he could introduce me to. If they attended the same school of charm as he did,
then I am sure I will have found my match. Perhaps you or Mary Ann have ideas for
matchmaking? You can find me by the refreshments, refreshing my glass... Oh, there seems
to be an extrodinary number of clergy around the bar...
Claudia
Wellington, NZ - 06/25/97 at 21:32:37
That's Marston, Elliott Marston... check the cast list! It's a beautiful name, let's
get it right!
Maxine <mrose@pawneenet.comfoo>
Greeley, CO USA - 06/25/97 at 21:28:45
Aqua sateen, thrilling, Mary Anne. This countryside is much more charming now that I've
esconced myself here, with of all people, Jacques. He's a guite gadflyish fellow,
seemingly straightforward, ("What for a counter, would I do but good?") and wear
ing a nice but rather worn-looking outfit ("It is my only suit.") I'm tickled to
finally be here too.
Mr. Marsden, I have never had the pleasure (do I remind you fo someone else?) but I'm
pleased to make your acquaintance. No, I don't need a coveri ng for my shoulders right
now, thanks. As for being shy, well time will tell. Perhaps you could walk with me to the
table of treats and pour me some Earl Grey, wait, make that some Veuve Cliqot (sp?) (Sound
of shots!) Oh no, well that was quite a scar e - Oh, only skeet shooting, oatmeal scones?
I though we were having a bit trouble. What trouble you say, well, Mr. Marsden, walk with
me a bit through the *North* Rose Garden, and I'll tell you the story....
Renie
CA, USA - 06/25/97 at 21:05:54
Hi Claudia -- Actually, there are quite a few of us here; it's just that all sorts of
people seem to have taken an unexpected interest in various bits of shrubbery. Just a few
minutes ago I saw something that looked like an anorexic crow flapping across the lawn,
and suddenly it turned and waved at me; it was Obadiah. He's very glad to have arrived
before Raz, since the Bishop feels, and he agrees with him, that it is vital to have a
representative of the Church of England present lest Raz convert us all to the Orthodox
Church. Not that the thought of all the maniacs trooping off en masse to storm Mount Athos
is without its charms, I said; he got all flustered and went off to see whether the wine
met with his approval. This should be fun to watch: I've instructed the bartender to tell
the Rev. Slope that we have only a very modest Marsala...
Sofia
Delaford - 06/25/97 at 20:34:50
Here are am again. I apologise if I was too early on my last visit - the time
difference is so confusing. It is now lunchtime here, and I have left my responsibilities
for a few minutes to visit with you again. Looks like I am still early, there doe sn't
seem to be many of you here yet. I will just grab a quick glass of the House's best wine,
and leave you until later...
Claudia <rileyc@forestry.govt.nzfoo>
Wellington, NZ - 06/25/97 at 20:23:11
Well, finally I am nearing Delaford, and ON MY OWN may I add. I was forced to abandon Father Raz along the road somewhere. You see, I elected to drive the carriage (I certainly am not putting the reins in the hands, oh sorry, not h--ds, um, the, uh, mi tts of someone called The Mad Monk!). Because I am obviously not acquainted with this type of rig I was forced to drive very slowly and Raz kept jumping out to search for the local house of ill repute. Oh well, I'm almost there now. The locals tell me to look for the place with the cattle in the front yard and the rustling rose bushes.
As a side note, Kate, don't let anyone tease you about your hockey-puck scones. Have
you forgotten all of our fine gentlemen's passion for shooting? Two words - skeet
shooting!
Lisa
USA - 06/25/97 at 20:14:45
This is the strangest gathering I have ever attended. There are quite a few lovely
ladies present, but an extraordinary number of men! Strange, most of these chaps seem to
be wearing black. Must be some kind of English custom. As I walk around the lawn I see a
lot of familiar faces, VERY familiar. It is as if I am looking in a mirror. Could I be
related to some of these blokes? Pah! What a thought! Think I'll take a stroll in the rose
garden and see what is going on behind those bushes. Oh my here comes a bloke in clerical
garb looking rather upset. Looks as if he has been slapped. These young ladies are
feistier than I thought. Maybe I'll stoll into that rose garden afterall. Oh Renie, are
you there? Don't be shy. I think you could use a wrap for your shoulders.
Eliott Marsden
Delaford, UK - 06/25/97 at 18:54:41
No, Dev didn't bring the chapeau. With his usual tactical acumen he thought the gorilla
costume would be a more unobtrusive disguise. He is beside himself at the thought that
Kate might have mistaken his concern for the dignity of Ireland for an expression of
personal pique; or that anyone might have thought for a moment that his ego was in any way
involved. However, as Mrs. Jennings has been plying him with petits fours, his mouth is
too full to say anything at the moment. And I suspect his rage has just been diverted to a
new target: I just heard Mrs. Jennings ask him, in what I'm sure she means to be the
nicest possible way, when he last encountered a leprechaun... Well, off to wrap up a few
last-minute party favors...
Sofia
Delaford - 06/25/97 at 18:46:30
Aww, well, you shoulda seen those diacritical marks before the guestbook got a hold of
them.
Renie
CA, USA - 06/25/97 at 18:22:38
Mary Anne, after all that is bewitching in the idea of that being Mr. W-, I can assure you that even from my vantage point of approaching Delaford in this rather dreadful excuse for a carriage, I can plainly see that it is Sir John, *not* Willoughby. I've no doubt, no doubt, that he and the Colonel will only trot off to hunt or clean their guns, which have been left outside the perimeter of the main grounds. If you remain this excitable before the party's appointed hour, whatever will become of you?
Yes, Kate, Franais est b"envenue ici! Parfa"t pur le soireŽ ‡
Delaford. (I just decorated at will. I also don't think parfait means perfect.) I hope
Hans will meet me anyway, despite my American shortcomings. What is it with these English
roads? My chaise is stuck in a muddy gawdawful rut the size of Londonderry, wait, I think
I see someome else walking towards Delaford. (Waving) Yoo-hoo! Is that Jacques arriving
early? Perhaps he and Emma will chat again.
Renie
CA, USA - 06/25/97 at 18:20:34
Renie, I have to h-- er, give it to you . . . you must be something special, to melt
that ruthless heart. But do be very careful, dearest ; it isn't like Hans to be so
sentimental! He's up to something--this is the voice of experience speaking here! Remember
the first party? Wish I could remember more of the second one . . . at any rate, your
necklace is lovely. Give Renie a h-- er, a round of applause for looking so wonderful. And
thanks for the warning about the muslin, dear, but I'm afraid I've already embarrassed the
Colonel. I modeled it for him this morning and the poor man blushed, couldn't even speak.
Merely led me to one of the windows with strong sunlight coming through it and gestured to
one of the mirrors. As I feared-- absolutely transparent in strong light. So, the aqua
sateen instead, with the cream lace trim. Much more substantial. Anyway, I won't be
getting into much trouble this time, unless I miss my guess. The Colonel has that look in
his eyes--if he gets the least idea that I'm up to any mischief, or in any danger for that
matter, he'll probably shackle us together or something to keep me safe. Hmmm . . . now
there's an idea . . . 8-) Oops, guests arriving right and left. C'mon now, MA, genteel
expression in place, gown smoothed down--but wait! Who is this riding toward Delaford? Oh,
NO! Disaster! It's Mr. Willoughby! Quick, someone distract the Colonel and I'll try to
head him off--oh, no . . . too late!! The Colonel has seen him . . . ladies, how will it
all end?!
Mary Anne
USA - 06/25/97 at 17:54:35
Gasp! For the flan's caramel, use an additional 1/4 cup of sugar and 1 tablsp water,
and then caramelize. For the custard, use the ingredients listed at the beginning. This
should work now. My apologies Father Grigory, I didn't know you were interested in
cooking, too. May I call you Raz?
Emma
USA - 06/25/97 at 17:51:57
G'day. I am not sure why my name was left off the guestlist, must have been an
oversight. So this is Delaford, not as spacious as I'm used to. A bit confining for an
"estate" if that is what these Pommies call this place. Ah, all these lovely
ladie s in their summer, deliciously flimsy, frocks. Was very disappointed that weaspons
had to be checked. I had heard that a certain Col. Brandon was a crack shot and I had
hoped we could reenact the shotoout at the OK Corral. Ah well, will just have to be
content with discussing firearms with the sheriff. Hmmmmmh, there's a lovely young sheila
over there in a viginal white frock with an alexandrite necklace. I think I'll go over and
introduce myself. If things work out maybe Father Gregori could do the honors. My sheep
ranch could use a woman's touch.
E. Marsden
Australia - 06/25/97 at 17:38:38
G'day. I am not sure why my name was left off the guestlist, must have been an
oversight. So this is Delaford, not as spacious as I'm used to. A bit confining for an
"estate" if that is what these Pommies call this place. Ah, all these lovely
ladie s in their summer, deliciously flimsy, frocks. Was very disappointed that weaspons
had to be checked. I had heard that a certain Col. Brandon was a crack shot and I had
hoped we could reenact the shotoout at the OK Corral. Ah well, will just have to be
content with discussing firearms with the sheriff. Hmmmmmh, there's a lovely young sheila
over there in a viginal white frock with an alexandrite necklace. I think I'll go over and
introduce myself. If things work out maybe Father Gregori could do the honors. My sheep
ranch could use a woman's touch.
E. Marsden
Australia - 06/25/97 at 17:27:08
HELLO.... I meant to put English (which should be capitalized no doubt) in italics, not
as its own paragraph. I guess that I should get down off my soapbox now.
Noel, I love trifle (though I prefer it with whipped or clotted cream to custard) but
considering who is invited to this soiree (can an afternoon event be a soiree?), I
wouldn't worry about there being trifle. Everyone will be trifling with everyone else's
affections if nothing else. [Kate dives under a table to avoid being hit with one of her
own baked hockey pucks...]
Kate
Alexandria, VA USA - 06/25/97 at 17:22:32
Renie, Thank you for your kind support in my dealings with Mr. de Valera. I really do
sympathize with his cause, but he must be made to look at the consequences of his actions.
He should know that a revolutionary movement leaves no time for coddling egos, even his
own... Some people take offense at the slighest cause!
Hans, liebling, I once heard that someone who speaks three languages is tri-lingual,
someone who speaks two languages is bi-lingual, and someone who speaks one language is
American. I blame the government. We should begin teaching foreign languages in elementary
(grammar) school, while they are less dfficult to absorb. I must be dreaming; we don't
even teach
english
in elementary school anymore!!!! Quel dommage; c'est la vie! :-{ Auf Wiedersehen,
liebchen. A bientot. (Please excuse the lack of diacritical marks, umlauts aren't the only
ones not available on an english keyboard.
Kate
Alexandria, VA USA - 06/25/97 at 17:17:27
Oh! Hans! I do believe I *am* trembling! (Und speechless!)
Renie
CA, USA - 06/25/97 at 16:53:02
Renie: [sigh]I had forgotten how few people in the bankrupt American culture ever learn
a foreign language. See Heinrich Heine, a poem entitled "How the Moon's Reflection
Trembles" ("Wie des Mondes Abbild Zittert")--that closing salutation, in
English: "And only your image trembles in my heart . . ." See you among the
roses . . .
Hans
USA - 06/25/97 at 16:50:53
Claudia, fashionably early is tres chic. We'll drop in on you if anything untoward (or
toward ;-)) happens. Mrs. Jennings is kind-hearted, but I'm afraid she's just going to
make matters worse, stuffing olives down Dev. Sofia, did Dev bring that stu pendous
chapeau - that would not only do well for a disguise, but would fit right in for the
picnic. Ladies, don't forget your hats! (Noel, I love yours, just where did you find it!)
Kate, you were right to be firm and bold with Dev. Hopefully he'll c ome out and play with
us later, when the Republic is established, or maybe someone else who gets to Delaford
early can take over. Volunteers, lassies? Ach, we may well have to wade through
international blood....
Renie
CA, USA - 06/25/97 at 16:47:55
Good afternoon ladies, and gentle persons. Greetings to our esteemed Colonel. I have
arrived to partake in cucumber sandwiches and cups of tea etc, but am affeared that duty
calls, and I can linger only a moment. Please feel free to keep me abreast of events at
this high-society event, by e-mailing me at my work, during your party. I would hate to
miss the fun. I will try and catch up with you all later today, but you may all be abed by
the time I return.
Claudia <rileyc@forestry.govt.nzfoo>
Wellington, NZ - 06/25/97 at 16:31:53
What a morning! As I was dusting off the statuary with Mary Anne, who should arrive but
Dev, wearing an ill-fitting gorilla costume (apparently he wanted to travel incognito so
as to avoid arrest.) Between the long trip, the stuffy costume, and the fact that he seems
to have learned about Kate's latest message (which, like everything else, he regards as a
personal affront), he was in a state of near collapse, and kept muttering something about
'rivers of blood flowing through the ha-ha'. I have packed him off to one of the guest
rooms in the care of Mrs. Jennings, who is administering compresses and tea, and generally
fussing over him. For some reason her ministrations seem to rub him the wrong way; I just
heard him shout that the people of Ireland, and himself as their representative, did NOT
just need to lie down and drink their tea and be a good lamb...
Sofia
Delaford - 06/25/97 at 15:48:03
What would an English fete be without Trifle may I ask? I shall stop at the
International Foods section of Giant and load up on "Birds" English custard mix.
Of course I will also bring clotted cream and preserves for Kate's declectable pucks...I
mean scones! As Wimbledon is looming, shall we pay tribute with strawberries and cream. I
shall bring extra splits of champagne. I wonder if Alan's tennis instructor brother will
be present at the games? As for attire, I will have to peruse the fashions at
"Regency Rags" or "Empire Waists R Us". Fashions can be so vexing I
declare!
Noel
Alexandria, VA USA - 06/25/97 at 15:02:36
And Hans, dear, what was that Germanic amourous murmurous message? (Help! Who speaks
German here?)
Renie
CA, USA - 06/25/97 at 14:35:48
All the food groups, that's *rich*, that, Emma. I can almost taste those confections. Kate, I hope that I'm conspicuous, "in the best sense." Lovely to see you'll be at Delaford. You might actually want to bake and bring those hockey-puck scones, be cause if those zesty gentlemen among us get out of ha..., umm, order, the pucks could come in han...I mean, might be quite useful. The "h" rule really only applies in English, and when you specifically mention AR's, uh, pickers and stealers.(Saved by Sha x again.) So if you don't have a fix (fix = URL/film/photo reference/good fictional story/other lame excuse), at han..., uh, available, using foreign terms or an alias instead of the word that gives me shivers may keep my inner mania at bay. (Involuntary shudder)
Mary Anne, we shall have to discuss your misdeeds at another time, as everything is bent for England. Don't think for a moment I've forgotten, or that we won't pick up what happens when you open that door(!) [Don't wear that rose muslin thin g, have you forgotten what happened last time you wore that?] And as for punning, intractable, not invertebrate, is the word that springs to mind.
Since this appears to be a partly catered and partly potluck picnic, I shall volunteer to bring champa gne and shortbread. That should go well with the caramel-topped custard. Now what to wear! A warm shawl, of course, Gail, I'm thinking over a virginal white frock. My alexandrite necklace should do nicely.
Lisa, you might have to move Raz along - he has this habit of spacing out, staring
wide-eyed into the sky. Hertz Rent-A-Barouche was jammed (I guess it's all the statesiders
like us bound for the picnic), I tried Avis Curricles, just down the block from Boots the
dispensing chemist. Fin ally, Hans, (flushing red, casting eyes downward) our past
adventures were quite fun, (quite loudly now) but this is going to be a demure picnic,
well maybe a Demi-mure picnic, not the course excuse for a tryst you seem to have
envisioned. However..(whis pered, barely audible)..see you at the South Rose Garden.
Renie <reniept@hotmail.comfoo>
CA, USA - 06/25/97 at 14:24:15
Ve are travel now in Barouche. My pritty, pritty companion say she like Emma recip for flan. She say she vill mek when she is home. I say Yarblockos! Ef you want gut food for picnic, mek Russian specialty, Borscht wid Vodka. You need only 2 pound beet, 1 large onion, 2 quart water. Drink one glass vodka. You put in big spoon salt, big spoon sugar, quarter cup limon juice. Drink another glass vodka. Cook soup 'til beets are falling apart. Now, go work in wheat field 'til Borscht is cold. OK, now come ba ck. Drink glass vodka. Mix in cup sour cream. Now, steal egg from farm. Boil until is hard and chop on soup. Put in bowls for everyone and give each a little glass vodka to put over soup. Give more vodka to drink. Drink one yourself. I'm tellink you. I vo uld tell you to mek with madiera, but last time I drink madiera, I wake up frozen in river. All other food is Bolshevik garbage. You can put in slop bucket.
Obadiah: That's SLOPE bucket!
Holy Father Gregori Rasputin, a Great Man.
I don't know where I am, UK - 06/25/97 at 14:12:08
My dearest Mr. De Valera,
You state that you and your deputies have left this site, but anyone with your experience and education must realize that monitoring communications is a necessary evil of social revolution. I post the following in the sure knowledge that it will somehow find its way to you.
I have nothing but the greatest respect and admiration for the Irish people. Throughout Eire's glorious history, her people have endured through every hardship and every victory bloody but unbowed. H ow could anyone fail to respect that ability to survive all adversity with hope and humour?
I must offer my abject apologies if I misinterpreted your earlier posting, which took Sophia to task for daring to invite the citizens of Rickmania to a picnic a t Delaford without your "permission." I fear that there is no polite way to ask why she should seek your consent to have a fete at a location that is no connection to you and involving people who have no connection to you except their being aware of you r political views and being great admirers of your oratory skills. I believe that it has been made clear that all here are your personal admirers, whatever the individuals may think of your political views, goals, and methods; however, that does not conf er upon you the right to dictate when or where we might meet.
For the record, regardless of the respect I hold for your political goals and your obvious dedication to your country's cause, I believe your methods will prove counterproductive to your obje ctives. I fear for the children of your country as the seeds of discord that you are cultivating begin to flower. I am fully aware that you believe that others planted those seeds, but once they have blossomed, who planted them will become irrelevant. My sincerest wish is that I may be proven wrong.
I remain respectfully yours,
Kate
Alexandria, VA USA - 06/25/97 at 13:57:01
Lisa--consider the Colonel notified. He already has riders out looking for possible
early arrivals. I've been at Delaford all morning polishing silver, arranging flowers,
etc. Everything is simply lovely. And Renie, that's some admirer you have! Be careful,
though--if he said what I think he said, you're going to need oven mitts!! Try not to wilt
all the roses . . . ;-)
Mary Anne
USA - 06/25/97 at 13:37:37
Well, I have made to England, but am having trouble locating the Hertz Rent-a-Barouche.
Father Raz is with me, having met me half-way. He has walked, and walked, and walked. He
suggests that we continue our journey to Delaford in this manner, but given the
persecution that tends to befall this dear creature, I fear for my own safety. Father Raz
assures me that he will know when trouble lurks. For some unexplainable reason, I am
compelled to believe him. Well, off we go - although I would ask Mary Ann t o please put
the Colonel on alert that by time I am as close as Cleveland, I may need a reliable
escort.
Lisa
Riverside, CA USA - 06/25/97 at 11:58:02
Sehr schoene Renie (curse these computers with no umlaut key!): I am charmed and
flattered by your past comments about me. It is a novel and pleasing sensation to find a
woman who does not respond to me with fear and hatred--Mrs. MacClane, you will recall,
found my company rather distasteful. Might I request the pleasure of your company this
evening in the South Rose Garden at the Colonel's estate? Slip
away as soon as you can, after your duet with the Colonel, of course. I have had a new
suit made for the occasion ; I received many favorable comments on my previous
"best," but it had become somewhat damaged. Do say yes, and I will be counting
the hours. "Es zittert nur dein Abbild mir im Herzen . . ."
H. Gruber
Los Angeles, USA - 06/25/97 at 09:20:18
The first FOF recipe:
Well, I don't have a syllabub recipe for the colonel, but here's a real recipe for a
virtual party:
FLAN DE NARANJA (orange flan, or custard)
6 eggs, 5 tablespoons sugar, juice of 4 oranges (1 1/3 cups) 1 teasp. grated orange rind.
For caramelized sugar, place water and suagar in a small skillet, add water, and stir
until melted and sugar has a golden color. Pour into 6 custard cups.
For the custard, lightly beat the eggs, beat in sugar, gradually add orange juice and
orange rind. Pour into custard cups, place them in a pan of hot water (VERY important),
and bake at 350oF for 45 minutes. Remove and cool. Refrigerate for a couple of hours. To
serve, unmold and spoon on the caramel. From the Foods and Wines of Spain, by P. Casas.
Simple enough I can make it!
High in sugar and cholesterol, so if you need caffeine and wine, serve with expresso and a
small glass of Montilla sherry, that way you get all the food groups
Emma
USA - 06/25/97 at 08:59:19
I arrived at Delaford this morning to help the Colonel with his picnic preparations.
The household staff and what seemed like half the neighboring village have been beating
rugs, airing rooms, festooning the back courtyard with garlands, setting up a huge tent on
the lawn, and generally engaging in more work than I would have thought any picnic could
possibly require. I called Sinclair to see whether he could help with the catering, but he
burst into tears and said he couldn't talk; I have no idea what that's about. In any case,
the Colonel and I have scoured the county for food, and between our efforts today and
those of his cook tomorrow, we should be well taken care of. We have laid in extra
supplies of Madeira, and tuned the Broadwood Grand in anticipation of duets. Delaford
looks wonderful. We look forward to seeing you all.
Sofia
USA - 06/25/97 at 02:12:31
Kate, Had I read your latest communication, I might wonder why respect for the Irish
people, and for myself as the representative of the Irish people, is required only at
political gatherings; or why discourtesy ceases to merit reproof when it is offered in
social gatherings. Fortunately, however, I and my deputies have left this page, so I am
unaware of your curious views on these subjects. Thanks to my ignorance I remain, madam,
respectfully your friend,
Dev
Eire - 06/24/97 at 20:55:43
Kate: yes, I am afraid I'm an inveterate punster--or maybe an invertebrate punster,
since I don't have the "backbone" to stop. [Chorus of groans, flinging of
oatmeal scones] Nice to know that if Mr. I shows up, I'll have a weapon with which to
fight back. And Renie, does the "h" rule apply in foreign languages as well?
I'll make a deal with you, dear ; don't tell the Colonel about my latest peccadillo until
*after* the picnic--no use spoiling his pleasure and everyone else's--and I'll treat you
to the full details of what passed between us when he took me to task for the last volley
I fired in your direction. How can you resist an offer like that?! Don't you even wonder
what happened after I summoned the strength to open the door to the Colonel . . . ? C'mon,
admit it! You're dying to know! And if you aren't, I'd lay odds someone out there is . . .
!
Mary Anne
USA - 06/24/97 at 17:56:51
Karina, I love the clouds painted on the ceiling and are those birds the ones for which Ed is so famous??
Renie, you have been conspicuous in your absence; we are all the better for your return. You were speaking of Sean Connery, sometime, close your eyes and listen to Mr. Takagi. The accent is *of course* different, but the tone, timbre, and placement of the words is very similar.
Mary Anne, this "punishment" is worthy of the interrogtor himself. I'm certain that Sinclair is laughing hims elf silly (sillier?) over the groaners that seem to come so easily to you. Fie on you for not giving us advaned warning of your natal day. I hope that it was splendid, and don't think that we will have forgotten when it rolls around next year.
Sophie, I should be delighted to attend the picnic at Delaford. I make excellent otmeal/currant scones (if I say so myself) and would be delighted to bring some, if you deem it appropriate. I would offer to bring classic cream scones, but mine generaly turn ou t like baked hockey pucks. Maybe some eccles cakes would be nice. I don't much care for the Harrod's recipe, but I'll look for a better one. As for the Colonel's sense of propriety and sensibility of our reputations (he is the kindest and best of men, is he not?), I hazard that there will enough of us there to chaperone each other. Perhaps Mrs. Jennings would consent to keep an eye on us all. She is certainly above reproach and understands the vagaries of a pledged heart.
Mr. de Valera, perhaps you have mistaken Sophie's kind invitation for a social affair
as a cover for a political gathering. Have you been consorting with the interrogator
again? Apart from Jamie, who blames the government for everything, and Hans because
politics make such a won derful cover for baser instincts, and George because he is the
sherriff, and the interrogator (the less said about his political views the better) and
Sinclair... Well, maybe your concerns do have a basis in fact; but I assure that we ladie
s are more interested in each others' scintillating conversation and the viewing of the
handsome men (yourself included) who have been invited to attend the party. I, personally,
intend to play a great deal of croquet. :-}
Kate
Alexandria, VA USA - 06/24/97 at 17:44:28
Renie, my dazzling Renie, so GLAD to see you back! 8-D Greatly looking foward to your
duet with the Colonel. What will it be--perhaps Mozart? "La ci darem la MANO"?
[MA ducks as Renie hurls every object within reach] Sorry, so sorry, couldn't resist!
Uh-oh . . . better run. The voice of the Colonel is heard in the land. Do forgive me,
Renie, and don't tell him about this, will you? Yet another of my regrettable misdeeds,
and I'm not over my last reprimand from him yet! Aiiieee! See you at the picnic . . .
Mary Anne
USA - 06/24/97 at 16:37:17
Stephanie - thanks for the time check! I will probably be at work by the time the party
kicks off - and as it has been increasingly boring there - I will sneak away frequently to
use their internet computer, and escape to the sunny climes and "gentle" ladies
in summer frocks. It masy be a bit early for me to get into the champagne, and a bit cold
for me to jooin you all in summer frocks, but the spirit is willing, and I would to
anything to be in the company of our Colonel! See you tommorow, hope th e weather stays
fine, and the company finer...
Claudia <claudia-riley@xtra.co.nzfoo>
Whitby, NZ - 06/24/97 at 16:31:36
Another door here at Karina's? (Opening door, creaking sounds) Holy heliotrope! A fantasy guestbook. What a *smashing* idea! Now following real or imaginary threads will be easier - and I'll never get anything else done! You really are amazing, Kari na. Boy, go on vacation and look what happens....[I dunno, some guestbook entries did sorta sound like a collective rebuke, but I guess they weren't "raised to be self-sufficient" (Connery's voice again) and I guess I for one got pretty Hans-sterical bef ore during and after the Almeida party, so there might be more than a Colonel of truth from some whose tastes do not this way tend.] I hope posting in both guestbooks is not verboten!
This place needs some work (LOL at the padded walls, Lisa), but i t looks like everyone (gee, you ladies all look familiar) is going to be occupied with preparations for the Delaford picnic. We'll have time enough to decorate when we all get back. Sofia, I would *love* to attend. I and the Colonel will make our duet debut (although I can't say we've perfected it yet, as I've had thoughts other than chords during our recent practices "Show me that fingering again, Colonel? I adore your full octave reach.") I may be late because of last minute rehearsals.
Dearest M ary Anne, thank-you for so much enquiring after my well-being. The thermos
and its contents have been placed in a secret place. And as for the duel, be it pistols or
swords, I hope that Willoughby has the sense and sensibility not to appear at the picni c
uninvited, or tragic results may ensue. (Hey, watch it with that unbated sword, will ya?)
I am truly delighted to be in the company of other silly and occasionally grandstanding
Rickmaniacs, whether here in FOF or in the main guestbook. Cheers to thi s enterprise.
Another bottle, I should think. (Pop! Fizzling...)
Renie <reniept@hotmail.comfoo>
CA, USA - 06/24/97 at 15:18:44
My goodness! Where have I been that I have not responded promptly to Miss Sofia's kind invitation to Delaford? All that I can recall is Thursday evening last, I was attempting to commune with dear Hans, but some idiot kept coming in every five minutes to tell me that "Bounty is the quicker-picker-upper"...
Anyhow, I will be there but as with some, I may be a bit late. Perhaps will not make it
'til Thursday. But, I will try to get there early so we might well start the new day with
a breakfast picnic.
Lisa <pubdefrv.lwagner@co.riverside.ca.usfoo>
Riverside, CCA USA - 06/24/97 at 11:57:41
My dear Sofia--as to "wishing" to spend my time under the Colonel's watchful
eye . . . my wishes are of no consequence in this matter. He takes his role as protector
very seriously and, after recent events, is grimly determined to save me from any
danger--even from myself. (Large grin) Good luck, Colonel! Are you always so fond of lost
causes? And dear Gail, as to my attire . . . well, if I'm indisposed due to strolling
about the grounds and getting caught in inclement weather, at least I'll have the *very
great* pleasure of being carried in the Colonel's arms [long, shivering sigh] to one of
the guestrooms to recover. Hmmm, let's see . . . my thin muslin gauze in the rose print,
perhaps? 8-) But I'd better not wear anything too like a nightgown ; might attract the
attention of Mr. I. Again.
Mary Anne
USA - 06/24/97 at 09:34:20
I should be delighted to join you, Coloned. I have so longed to see a Broadwood
grand...I shall have to be just a bit late but, please, do not worry about me too much. I
shall arrive, no question of that, and hope to stay as long as your kind hospita lity
allows. Till then...
Dana <strom@methow.comfoo>
Twisp, Wa USA - 06/24/97 at 00:33:31
My dear Miss Mary Anne - do pray remember that the English summer weather can be so
unpredictable - not like that of our late colonies! You will no doubt recollect the
occasion when our dear Marianne was caught in extremely inclement weather - with what
consequences we are all so familiar! By all means wear something flowery, light and cool,
but ensure that a warm shawl is at hand for those sudden changes. Should the dear
Colonel's house be unable to accommodate all the guests desirous of attending the picnic,
I am sure that the neighbouring establishments would be happy to host houseparties for
those unfortunate enough not to be included at Delaford.
Gail <grayment@istar.cafoo>
Toronto, Canada - 06/24/97 at 00:10:14
A picnic--how enchanting, it is just the thing! I will be sure to bring charming ladies
of various fortunes, continents, and superior intellect with me to Delaford. Will a
certain "Mr. F" be there? Oh Mr. I. is the man of whom you speak. He will employ
something called a bar-be-que? How droll these well-traveled men are! Til the morrow then.
Mrs. Jennings
Noel
USA - 06/23/97 at 21:51:25
Claudia, I've been searching the net for a time zones 'clock'. I am 12 and a half hours
ahead of Pacific coast US, you are 15 hours ahead. No surprise really. This makes the
party in the wee hours of Thursday morn. I think we'll need the help of a high tech
cockerell, it'll still be dark and freezing cold. Good luck.
Stephanie
Adelaide, Australia - 06/23/97 at 21:43:50
Mary Anne: I have indeed warned the Colonel about the nature of our parties. He found
some of what I said unintelligible (i.e., the parts about detonators), and some of it
alarming (i.e., the presence of so many young ladies without chaperones), but after I went
on a bit about 'autres temps, autres moeurs', I managed to convince him that the fact that
we do not always adhere to early 19th century concepts of respectability does not mean
that we are wholly abandoned. (I did not, of course, bring up the question whether
anything else that we do implies this.) He is, in any case, aware that the party might go
on for a while, and has asked the housekeeper to make up the spare beds. Since I knew you
wanted to spend the whole evening under the Colonel's watchful eye, I also took the
liberty, about a year or so ago, of telling Beth about Willoughby's designs on her, and of
instructing her in the use of contraceptives. I also suggested she use her impulsive and
headstrong nature on a worthier object, and suggested the attempt to achieve civil
equality for women. The Colonel doesn't know about our little chat, of course; and while
he is a bit unnerved by Beth's recent forays into politics, he has at least been spared
the pain of discovering her childless and abandoned. He will therefore not have to gallop
off in the middle of our party. See you then --
Sofia
USA - 06/23/97 at 21:30:47
Sofia, I have greatest of pleasure in accepting your invitation to the picnic at
Delaford. I will endeavour to arrive on time, however, as USA time is between 17 and 20
hours BEHIND New Zealand time, I will have to connect sometime on Thursday, which I have
yet to work out! Perhaps the lady from Australia will be able to help me out. And
Wiloughby - don't bother showing up, Marianne has a lot of friends who would do more harm
to you than Col. Brandon could ever do. Though it could prove interesting....
Claudia <claudia-riley@xtra.co.nzfoo>
Whitby, New Zealand - 06/23/97 at 20:33:43
Sofia: You published the party invitations WITHOUT MY AGREEMENT!!!!! To gather in any
place less exalted than Buckingham Palace is inconsistent with the dignity of the Irish
people, and of myself as their representative; and to announce the fact without first
securing my consent is a crime so enormous as to defy description. As a protest against
this act of gross disrespect, I and my deputies are going to leave this web page. Whether
or not we shall attend the party remains to be seen.
Dev
Eire - 06/23/97 at 19:10:04
Sofia, I'm surprised that no one has athis web page. Whether or not we shall attend the
party remains to be seen.
Dev
Eire - 06/23/97 at 19:10:04
Sofia, I'm surprised that no one has as yet responded to the Delaford invitation ; I
will certainly be there--perhaps a bit early, to help set things up. I'm sure the Colonel
could use all the help he can get, to prepare for this crowd. You did warn him, I hope,
that our get-togethers tend to linger on for days and days? 8-) Hope he has plenty of room
for houseguests. Of course, I'll be right under his eye the whole time, so I really will
have to behave myself at this gathering, won't I? [Rickmaniacs begin to place their bets
on what disaster will befall MA at the picnic] Hmmmm . . . no slithery black get-up this
time ; it's positively a disaster magnet. Something flowery, light, cool, appropriate for
the season . . . see everyone there!
Mary Anne
USA - 06/23/97 at 13:53:55
My dear Mr. W--I do pity you, from my soul, but I can only state that if you wish death
at the Colonel's hands, all you have to do is come within his sight . . . especially with
designs on me on any of the other lovely ladies on this guestbook. Do not desire it, Mr.
Willoughby . . .
Mary Anne
USA - 06/23/97 at 09:35:42
Apologies: I have just discovered how easy it is to double-post.
Sofia
USA - 06/23/97 at 01:35:00
Ladies, I have come to issue an invitation. A picnic, at Delaford, this Wednesday, at
5:30pm Pacific time (8:30 est.) As the event will be held outdoors, we can kick off our
shoes without fear of broken glass; and while refreshments will be provided, there will,
of course, be no barbecue. Indeed, I believe we may hope to emerge unscathed (physically),
unless someone finds the scent of the heliotrope so beguiling that she falls into the
ha-ha. I hope to see you all there.
Sofia
USA - 06/23/97 at 01:32:59
Ladies, I have come to issue an invitation. A picnic, at
Delaford, this Wednesday, at 5:30pm Pacific time (8:30 est.) As the event will be held
outdoors, we can kick off our shoes without fear of broken glass; and while refreshments
will be provided, there will, of course, be no barbecue. Indeed, I believe we may hope to
emerge unscathed (physically), unless someone finds the scent of the heliotrope so
beguiling that she falls into the ha-ha. I hope to see you all there.
Sofia
USA - 06/23/97 at 01:32:47
While there is no man on earth I envy more than Colonel Brandon----there is also no man
on earth I hate more. To have my lovely Marianne marry such a creature!! And myself also
to be fettered likewise! To imagine her tender face lifted up to meet Br
andon's-------enough!! I cannot bear this image! Each beat of my heart----it is a beat of
agony when I realize that Brandon's delight is my torment!! I know---I well know it is
folly to remain in this place. All I ask is that someone here take pity on a man, who
finding a rainbow colored paradise----chose the most desolate land in which to lay his
heart.....sob! If only the Colonel had killed me in the duel!! I wish he had! Then all I
would see is blackness----and not the bitter picture I have of Ma rianne on Brandon's arm
as they leave the church. Nor the imaginings of
.......I......can......not.....go.......on........sob!
Willoughby
Combe Magna, ?? ENG - 06/23/97 at 00:07:04
Mary Ann: I found your idea of an "evil" twin brother very intriguing. All
the book states is that Brandon had an older brother. He also apparently had sisters: Mrs.
Jennings asks about a sickly sister in one of the chapters (so that is one sister) and
there may be another sister, since a brother in law is also mentioned (this brother-in-law
owned the estate they were to picnic at). In the movie, the place of this picnic was
Delaford---but in the book, it's a place called Whitwell (I think) and it was owned by
Col. Brandon's brother in law. Whether this brother in law was married to the sister who
was ill----or was married to yet another sister is never made specific. So, besides his
older brother, he at least has one sister, possibly two. Mayb e one of the sisters could
be his twin? Although one would think Jane Austen would mention such a possiibility---but
perhaps not, since Colonel Brandon himself is rather faintly drawn---and like most of her
novels, siblings aren't much mentioned or desc ribed unless they are important characters.
So, one could suppose anything about his older brother---maybe someone could write some
kind of story about this.
Lynne
MO USA - 06/22/97 at 23:01:42
Ven is negst parrty goink to be?
"Father Grigori" AKA "Raz"
USA - 06/22/97 at 16:01:59
Greetings, all. Recovering from the celebration of my birthday yesterday--and this is
one celebration that I didn't get abducted from, and in which no trouble befell me. (I
must be slipping.) Anyway, I wanted to post a "speculation" and I'm sorry if it
simply murders sleep for everyone in this guestbook, but I'd like to hear reactions. I've
been re-reading S&S to try and satisfy my mind on a certain detail: how much older is
Col. Brandon's older brother? Maybe someone has spotted a mention of it, but I haven't in
a couple of re-readings. As to why I'm wondering about this . . . well, brace yourselves.
I've always (even before the film and AR's face in the role) pictured the two brothers as
having a strong family resemblance. Then a chilling thought occurred to me: what if the
age difference were only a matter of minutes? What if his brother is the older TWIN?! Take
warning from this of what can happen to you if you let your mind wander! Once I had
thought of it, it was like having a bucket of cold water thrown over me. We know the older
brother was very callous about Eliza, abused her, divorced her, etc. Col. Brandon with an
evil twin . . . no, no, Mary Anne, don't even THINK about going there!! [MA takes several
deep breaths] There, better now. I think. Next topic: the posting of "fictions"
here--I'd sure love to see some! Big surprise, right? 8-) But seriously, I think we're all
still sort of fidgety after recent events and may be a tad uncomfortable in here, not sure
of what should go on, etc. I suggest we all relax, kick our shoes off--[In the background,
a German-accented voice is heard to snarl, "SHOOT THE GLASS!"] Uhhh . . . maybe
we should keep our shoes on for the time being. Oh, and Kate, your suggestions of what
could befall an erring sojourner amongst us are indeed dreadful--but surely you know that
worse than either of those would be one stern frown from the Colonel! 8-)
Mary Anne
USA - 06/22/97 at 15:20:08
Wish I could spell!! Suspense not suspece! I think posting your literary musings a la
Pemberly would be great. I want to read the work there but haven't had an opportunity yet.
At any rate over in this corner of the guestbook; "anything goes" I would think!
Sweet dreams all, Noel
Noel
USA - 06/22/97 at 01:32:02
Talking of old TV series, as you were... I was always amoured of Oliver Tobias in
Smuggler when I was a teenager. The strong, silent type. A rogue that would steel your
breath - kiss the rich heiress, then ride off across the moors into the night. T o
whatever villanous activity etc.. Well, I always was a romantic, shame about real life. Is
this page for writing stories on, or just sharing your thoughts? Must go - real life
calls.
Claudia <clods@xtra.co.nzfoo>
Wellington, NZ - 06/21/97 at 23:56:51
Two sites, sigh, so much to read. Yes, Robin Ellis starred in 'Poldark' and he did a
terrific job. I was surprised when I saw him being interviewed and couldn't figure out why
he looked so different...no sabre scar! I LOVE the idea of AR in any of M artha Grimes'
books!! The big questions, should he play Inspector Jury, often brooding with a sad
childhood OR the colorful Melrose Plant??? Either one would be great, but I'm kind of
leaning toward Melrose since he gets the best lines!
Joan
L.I., NY USA - 06/20/97 at 15:32:19
MA: Ten lashes with a wet noodle... (The option is death by barbecue).
Kate
Alexandria, VA USA - 06/20/97 at 15:11:09
Kate: enjoyed your "jovial" post--yes, I know I'm skating really close to the
edge here (what kind of death, pray tell? Something appropriate for an erring Rickmaniac?
Oooo, the possibilities). I'm afraid my worship is reserved for the Christian version. Re:
"melting" when Hans smiles--yeah, so do I, but it's the way a substance would
melt when subjected to a blowtorch! Hans always smiles when he's meditating deviltry, and
the smiling moments are the scariest ones. Hi, Dana! I'd forgotten you were in on the
"duel" discussion too. And Joan, back to your earlier question (other guestbook)
about my "tempting" Hans . . . [sigh]I'd like to think I could, but it's far too
dangerous. A broken heart-- or a broken neck. Meanwhile, what's become of Renie, I wonder?
Maybe that letter I sent her--enclosed in a silver thermos--was going just a wee bit too
far . . . ;-)
Mary Anne
USA - 06/20/97 at 13:05:59
MA: Maybe I should have sugested Jove (No "BY JOVE" jokes on pain of death
;-)).
Gail: I don't remember the production of The Moonstone very well. Only that the
"handsome" brother was blonde and very spoiled (could that have been Alan
Badel?), and one of the char girls had a crush on the "ugly" brother (Robin
Ellis), as did I. I also remember dark men in turbans trying to recover the stone, which I
remember looking more like a diamond than a moonstone. The Cornish saga of which you speak
is prob ably Poldark, for which Ellis and his wife, Angharad Reese, are most well known.
Kate
Alexandria, VA USA - 06/20/97 at 12:42:12
Mary Anne: Great idea at Pemberley! I certainly hope someone rises to the bait, so to speak. I am currently working on a little story leading up to the proposal of marriage, don't know if it's worth posting or not; there are some really fine writ ers there. So fun to have both sites to play on.
ttfn
Dana
Dana <strom@methow.comfoo>
Twisp, WA USA - 06/20/97 at 12:26:48
Mary Anne: How uncanny... I myself was "mesmer"ized by your posting...(much
groaning and shaking of heads.) It was fun to watch D.H last night. It was the first film
with AR that I had seen. I'm not a big fan or connoiseur of action/adventure but I really
enjoyed DH because of AR and the suspence factor. I remember being suprised that it was so
much fun and I liked Bonnie Bedelia's character--the women in these types of movies are
usually such flakes. At any rate, DH opened my eyes to AR and when I saw TMD at a video
store--I rented it because of AR. I saw RHPOT because of AR as well. It was not until
S&S and then finding this site that my full-fledged obsession began--not a dull moment
since I might add. Have a great weekend "fanciers"!
Noel
USA - 06/20/97 at 09:57:47
Hello, folks. I've been up to a little mischief-making (how unusual!) on the Pemberley
page--planted a suggestion in the Fan Fiction that someone should write an account of the
duel between the Colonel and Willoughby. Gail and Renie, I believe we discussed this in
the guestbook about a month or two ago and agonized over the few tantalizing hints we get
about it ; well, watch for it now! I'd like to see both a pistol and a sword version . . .
also, I really need to re-read a book by Arthur Koestler called *The Roots of Coincidence*
because a few spooky thoughts came to me last night: 1) One of my dad's nicknames is
"Jamie." 2)For years I've thought the most-neglected book of the Bible is
"Obadiah." 3)I believe (will have to check) I have a "Die Hard"
battery in my car. 4) I was fascinated in my childhood by the Robin Hood stories. 5) In my
current job, I work on the 30th floor. 6) My name. Enough said. I could go on, but it gets
too creepy. Is it any wonder I turned out to be a fan of Mr. Rickman?! Eerily yours,
Mary Anne
USA - 06/20/97 at 09:35:37
Kate - was the version of The Moonstone you are referring to the one I remember because
it was about the last thing Alan Badel did? Robin Ellis I principally recall in that
Cornish saga the name of which I have forgotten. In Toronto we have just had a new
Moonstone - which I've taped but haven't viewed yet.
Gail <grayment@istar.cafoo>
Toronto, Canada - 06/20/97 at 00:36:33
Well, although you all left so early, I had a lovely long conversation about the
theatre, actors, parts for actors, the price of fame and other fascinating topics with the
group I joined in the back of the Almeida. Although they all looked remarkably alike,
there were quite a few different views expressed. Anyway, when we went to leave and pursue
the conversation at a local watering hole, we found everyone else had gone home. Now I
find you have set up headquarters elsewhere. My friends,(Sei, Tybalt, Antonio, Hamlet, and
a few others,) wonder if we might join you. Let us know. We are willing to help with the
decorating and will bring food and booze. Until we hear, we will hang out at the watering
hole and discuss life and art. Anne and CO.
Anne <ahard73977@aol.comfoo>
Alexandria, VA USA - 06/19/97 at 22:38:03
Thanks for the e-mail Kate. I'll contact you tomorrow as you might be glued to the
small screen for DH. Mary Anne is Sinclair preparing a picnic or having "flights of
fancy" snacks catered?
Noel <nmm@episcopalhighschool.orgfoo>
Alexandria, VA USA - 06/19/97 at 21:44:13
Hi Haven't been here for a while, and boy the place has changed. I'm at work, so will
have to be brief, and come and visit you all again when I get home. Had a very bad dream
about AR the other night - bad because I was a man in the dream and he ran off with my
wife!!? I must be sick. Will come back and talk to you all later. Elise - if you are out
there, I'm still trying to get chat going - I've been told it is that I need a 32 bit
operation system to use it. Thought of your daugther' wish for an elephant when we visited
the zoo recently and my boys 2 1/2, wanted to take the giraffe home! Catch you later. Luv
Claudia
Claudia <clods@xtra.co.nzfoo>
Wellington, New Zealand - 06/19/97 at 19:12:58
Howdy neighbors! Not bad. Not bad at all. Kinda like it here. Where's the bar?! Are
stuffed animals accepted? Had another question,but I'd better not. children may be
present. Oh well. Racy comments about AR another time. Just kidding. Well,maybe. Bye for
now.
Nicole
Tampa, FL USA - 06/19/97 at 13:58:29
No, Kate, feeling just fine--maybe a little stiff, that's all. MA ducks and runs as
rocks, pine cones, rotten vegetables, and various small animals are thrown in her general
direction . . .]8-D
Mary Anne
USA - 06/19/97 at 13:04:30
Mary Anne, Thor?
Kate
Alexandria, VA USA - 06/19/97 at 12:02:14
BTW, Kate, when I say "HIM" I mean the BIG "HIM"!! [Flashes of
lightning, peals of thunder, etc.] Let there be no confusion . . .
Mary Anne
USA - 06/19/97 at 09:38:46
Ahhh . . . much better. No echoes now. Hi, Kate, and thanks for the info, address, etc.
Please be patient on that ; I will send a note when I get a chance, but things are kind of
crazed in my life right now (to use your words, "A long and boring story"). As
for the "worship . . ." Hmmm. I'm flattered, but let's be careful and keep that
where it properly belongs ; we don't want HIM getting upset with us! 8-) Seriously,
thanks. Glad to have given folks some enjoyment, and hope to provide more in the future.
Now: how about let's call Sinclair and get some food into this place?
Mary Anne
USA - 06/19/97 at 09:20:14
Hey all! Nice place you've got here. Let's have Jamie in to tidy up a bit and hang the pictures properly.
Ta, Dana
Dana <strom@methow.comfoo>
Twisp, WA USA - 06/18/97 at 23:58:00
I didn't realize this was here until I posted there! It is great to see the "usual
suspects" on board, fingers at the ready! Kate, I never pictured AR as Emerson either
(I had someone dark and somewhat swarthy in mind.) I was re-reading "Crocodile on the
Sandbank" and thought "why not"? I am looking forward to diving in to Anne
Perry's work--I kept bringing books home from the library which my Grandmother would
pounce upon. She is now a fan. The other author this happened with is Martha Grimes. All
her books are titled after English pubs. Glad to see everyone here!
Noel
Alexandria, VA USA - 06/18/97 at 23:40:41
Thank you, thank you, thank you Karina!
Hi Mary Anne! Hey Kate! This is place is really nice! I think the padding on the walls
is a nice touch. OK, you guys, help me drag in these folding chairs. They oughta work out
until we get something better. Ed, can I have my table back? Nina gave me her old carpet
too, she's going with wood floors from now on...aahh, home sweet home!
Lisa
Oh, you know, CA USA - 06/18/97 at 18:07:57
I guess that, as one of the offenders, I should stay out of the fact v. fantasy debate,
but the flights of fancy are the main reason that I visit the page. Mary Anne, I worship
at the altar of your creativity, even though I'm the teensiest bit jealous of it (the
creativity, not the altar). ;-)
On the "does anybody remember" thread: Does anyone remember a BBC production of
Wilke Collins "The Moonstone" starring Robin Ellis? It was produced about
twenty-five years ago *wince* and I've never seen it re-shown.
Susan, I adore Anne Perry's books and agree that AR would be perfect as Monk. I always
seem to picture Tom Baker as Pitt.
Noel, although AR doesn't fit the mental image of Emerson that I have always had (maybe
because he is descri bed as dark and muscular), I certain that he would be to die for in
the role. The most difficult role to cast would, of course, be Ramses. Where on earth
would they find an 8-year-old AR???
Kate
Alexandria, VA USA - 06/18/97 at 17:27:43
Hmmmm . . . after Karina, you might know I'd probably be the first one in here.
Figures. [Strolls about the room] Lots of echoes. Not much furniture yet to deaden them,
no carpets, curtains, etc. And people would be an improvement . . . come on in, folks!
Renie, get in here! Debbye! Emma! And everyone else who's made past parties,
"flights," etc. such a hit (and a hoot). And, someday . . . Ellen as well, I
hope. Ellen, if you're lurking about, we all miss you very much.
Mary Anne
USA - 06/18/97 at 17:13:30
Hopefully I have this working first time out (HAH!!).
Karina <karina@fred.netfoo>
USA - 06/18/97 at 16:48:33