Creative Writing

[whiskeypriest]

....Natalie Portman bears her second child, Mortmain, the future Dalai Lama and plastic packaging reformer.   Soon, an outbreak of cellulite at Los Alamos, oddly coinciding with the first quantum elevator, will call upon all of Mortmain Portman's inner resources and he will step out of the shadows to....

...find himself standing by a trail somewhere in the Sonoran desert, staring at a group of mounted men silhouetted against Picachu Peak.  Say pardner one of them, a short, marginally squat man wearing a black stetson and, for some reason, a pink lotus in the lapel of his leather vest, said where did you come from you are suspicious of being illegal here in arizona and we are going to have to run you in less'n you have your birthcertificate with you.

Hold on Soames the tallest of the men said this guy popping up out of nowhere would that qualify as a non-sequitor or is this more along the lines of deus ex machina?

[nytempsperdu]

such as those that occur in Kachina Machina over in Mistaken-for-Navajo Territory, where hopeful Hopis perform a precipitation dance, pounding the ground in the Squaring the Circle Theater in the Round at Four Corners, a  dance designed to cleverly disguise their attempts to elbow out the interloper Navajo sand painters crouching over an elaborate plant-dyed-silica depiction of their modern equivalent of the ancient...  

[barton]

...ritual of corn-and-callus removal by means of shuffle dancing on top of sand art.

"That's a tough question," said Mortmain, giving Soames a beatific smile and then, like the previous Dalai Lama, breaking into schoolboy giggles.  "I would lean towards deus ex machina or perhaps even deus ex cochina," he added, patting the large pig on which he was seated.  Then he moistened and cleaned his hands with a moist towelette and began to recite the Lotus Sutra until Soames cut him off, saying....

[knoxharrington]

...."oh many pad me hum, oh many pad me hum, oh many pad me hum...."

Thomas Stearns cleared his throat, glared for a moment at the snickering eternal footman, and added, "Shanti, shanti, shanti."

Ben Dover, annoyed, fired a couple shots in the air.  "This ain't Sedona, boys.  And we still got a killer to catch, one who is five steps ahead of us and knows the price of Hello Kitty lunchboxes in southern Bhutan.  So let's...."

[whiskeypriest]

...."oh many pad me hum, oh many pad me hum, oh many pad me hum...."

Thomas Stearns cleared his throat, glared for a moment at the snickering eternal footman, and added, "Shanti, shanti, shanti."

Ben Dover, annoyed, fired a couple shots in the air.  "This ain't Sedona, boys.  And we still got a killer to catch, one who is five steps ahead of us and knows the price of Hello Kitty lunchboxes in southern Bhutan.  So let's...."

...get the rope and string up this Mortmain feller on a suspicion of being an alien and get back on the trail of the Non sequitor killer."

Wait a second Soames interjected not that i got anythin against a good timely hangin but you say the name's mortmain don't that mean he's inalienable? 

[nytempsperdu]

"Indeed, at least as long as Mortmain pays his Mort Gage" opined Stearns, aka "the Bear" who was a descendant of the ancient prospector dude who advised his protege to always keep his gold in sacks, man.  

[appaloosabeach]

Garner is back on Hwy 42, now he's thinking the backhoe might be a liability. I need a wide spot in the road to dump this turkey. I should go back to that stupid cafe and use the hoe to tear the goddamn building down. The thought passes. Going 75 in a 40, four miles from Santa Fe, Garner and his big truck roar past a speed trap hidden state trooper, armed with radar. Shit about to hit the fan. 357 between his legs, brief case on the floor, Garner searches for his license and registration. Flashing blue lights are his least favorite color.

[appaloosabeach]

Garner pulls to the side of the road. Now he's thinking, shoot the cop or try the bullshit route. Garner went to Catholic school, he could lie to the Pope and still get part way to the promised land, most cops are dumber than tootsie rolls, I'll try bullshit, he looks for the registration, left eye in the driver's side mirror, shift almost over, the cop is relaxed.

[knoxharrington]

Meanwhile, Ben Dover and Soames, are playing the theme from the Good, Bad, And Ugly on their panflutes as they lead the Dalai Lama, Mortmain Portman, and his pig-steed down the dusty trail to Santa Fe.  Thomas Stearns Eliot and his grand-nephew, Chris Elliot (who, in an odd turn of events, fathered Mortmain Portman in a one-night stand with Natalie Portman, in a coffin-hotel in Yokohama in 2012)  are discussing their technique for eating peaches, when....

[whiskeypriest]

Meanwhile, Ben Dover and Soames, are playing the theme from the Good, Bad, And Ugly on their panflutes as they lead the Dalai Lama, Mortmain Portman, and his pig-steed down the dusty trail to Santa Fe.  Thomas Stearns Eliot and his grand-nephew, Chris Elliot (who, in an odd turn of events, fathered Mortmain Portman in a one-night stand with Natalie Portman, in a coffin-hotel in Yokohama in 2012)  are discussing their technique for eating peaches, when....

Stearns stopped heli santa fe is a right long piece from south west arizona and that pig steed is damned awful slow cant we go some place closer like casa grande?

[barton]

Okeydokey said Dover I reckon we could ride on up to Casa Grande an' mebbe trade in the pig-steed for something with cold AC.  Soames nodded agreement and kept playing the Sergio Leone tune on his panflute.  I chop the peach up first into bite-sized chunks said Chris Elliot and then I dare to eat it no problemo uncle Tommy.  T.S. said do you peel it before chopping then.  I remember your daddy Bob Elliot used to eat a couple peaches before he'd go on the radio to soothe his throat and he couldn't stand when the fuzz was still on and insisted it had to be skinned first.  Never really knew my daddy back then said Chris he was off on so many adventures around the world helping freedom fighters or searching for rare species of marmot or hanging out at the chateau marmot with his celebrity friends and his partner Ray.  Oh hey said Soames and stopped playing for a moment can you do your daddy's Society of People Who Talk Slowly routine that's one of my favorites.  What was it like bangin' Natalie Portman said Dover.  Chris frowned for a moment and said 

[nytempsperdu]

Wal, I tell ya, it was sure better'n the time I wrestled that Komodo dragon, which I learned from my uncle is The World's Largest Living Lizard.  Later I learned The World's Largest Dead Lizard is not just another but the prime roadside attraction, skinny legs 'n' all and wearin' that jitterbug perfume, at the villa incognito, coincidentally on the same line of latitude as if not similar in attitude to the Chateau Marmot, where no one, not even cowgirls, gets the blues, unless, of course,   

[appaloosabeach]

"You know why I stopped you?" the cop leans his right shoulder against the truck's driver side window. "I'm speeding, officer, the Santa Fe PD want me to help exhume a body, that's why I'm towing the backhoe, some kind of serial murder case they're working on, they're waiting for me." He flashes the registration. "I'll call ahead, let the guys know you are coming." This cop might be one of the Osmund offspring, dumber than a group tap dance, dumber than a Mick Jagger ex wife. You can't get much dumber. Two miles to downtown Santa Fe. Suddenly the backhoe has become his best friend.

[whiskeypriest]

No wheren hell did we get the prostitute who specializes in anal sex soames spat and must we use the mock ebonic ethnic term isn't that racist

[barton]

"I'm a backdoor maaaan," sang Jim Morrison, stepping from behind Chris Elliot.

Dover spat, scratched, adjusted his Stetson, and made 14 other gestures consistent with cowboy kinesics.  "Where'd you come from, stranger?"

"I've been here all along," said Morrison.  "The Dalai Lama let me hitch a ride with him back in Barstow, out on the edge of the desert.  Gave me some lemon water and a Clif bar in return for a few songs."

"You one of them Chateau Marmot boys?" said Soames, and spat, adjusted his Stetson, [etc.].

"No, sir.  Just a wandering minstrel, I, a thing of shreds and patches, of ballad songs and snatches...."

"An excellent traveling companion," said Mortmain Portman, Dalai Lama, son of Chris Elliot, second child of Natalie Portman, pig-rider extraordinaire.

Soames shrugged.  "The more, the...