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timerippleOh, the songs that are afoot! What joyous singings and pingings! *admonishes self to stop with the Gurgi-imitations*
I may have mentioned the monstrosity hidden behind the following LJ-cuts a while back. It was written before I saw Disney's Around the World in 80 Days, so don't blame me if certain plot elements bear some resemblance to one another. This bit may be re-written at some point to account for certain events necessary for the conclusion. I just have to write the middle bit, and then y'all can stop bugging me about it. If certain other plot elements bear some resemblance to my nautical archaeology final, well, duh.
The dragon left them atop a small cliff which they could easily scramble down (“Goodbye, Dragon-buddy!”) and soared off into the darkening sky (“I’ve really got to find myself a name!”).
The first thing Goat-Girl and Harry saw upon reaching the ground was a very large hamper covered with a spotless white cloth. The second and third (and perhaps fourth) things they saw were two men and a Persian cat. The first man saw them almost immediately, and stood with a calmly shocked expression, peering at them for a moment through a highly polished monocle. He pulled himself together immediately and addressed the motley group in cultured, utterly polite tones.
“Who, pray, are you? If I may be so bold as to ask.”
Unfortunately, this genteel statement was uttered at precisely the same moment as the cat’s loud (but equally cultured) yowl of surprise. There was no response from either Harry or Goat-Girl. The man tried again.
“I beg your pardon. Allow me to introduce myself and my companions. This is my butler, Phips. My cat, Lady Peabody. I am Mr. Salmon P. Wiggle, Esquire, Count of the Starry Down: Gentleman.”
“Won’t you sit down?” Mr. Salmon P. Wiggle, Esquire, Count of the Starry Down: Gentleman gestured politely toward several rocks which appeared to be somewhat more comfortable than the rest. Goat-Girl and Harry, after several startled glances at the Gentleman, the cat, the butler, and each other, sat down. “We were just about to take afternoon tea; pray join us. We three should greatly welcome your company in this rocky desolation.”
In short order Goat-Girl and Harry found themselves sipping tea (poured from a bone china teapot) out of bone china cups and holding bits of cake over bone china saucers that had appeared from the depths of the hamper. Phips served them with appropriate butlerly gravity, while Lady Peabody stared at them regally from atop a red velvet cushion. In between bites and gulps they managed to introduce themselves to the Gentleman and his companions, and in slightly less coherent chunks explained their business in the “rocky desolation”. The Gentleman was unfazed by both their trials and their disjointed narrative style; he took the extraordinary events concerning the curse, the terriers, Harry’s wand, and the countercurse, not to mention the dragon, all in stride. Even the part involving the Beach Boys produced only a small nod and the slightest elevation of one eyebrow.
Goat-Girl and Harry began to suspect that Mr. Salmon P. Wiggle, Esquire, Count of the Starry Down: Gentleman had more to his character than they might have initially expected. Indeed, one can nearly always be sure than anyone who takes his tea in the middle of the Himalayas with a butler and Persian cat in tow must be someone out of the ordinary.
The travelers had just finished their cake and were handing their cups to Phips when something whizzed overhead in a streak of brilliant colors, clicking madly. The whatever-it-was was being hotly pursued by several chipmunks seated in miniature gliders. The chipmunks, gliders, and whatever-it-was zoomed around the tallest clump of rocks and vanished into the distance.
“What was that?” asked Harry and Goat-Girl simultaneously.
Mr. Wiggle looked grave. “It must be that troublesome Rubik’s Cube of Doom again. I’d hoped to avoid further encounters with the device, but it seems that this horror has been unleashed upon the world again. I really must do something about it one of these days.” He shook his head, while Phips carefully replaced the white cover on the hamper and Mrs. Peabody looked after the Rubik’s Cube with an expression of disdain. “Never mind that dreadful mind-stealing device now. I had thought of popping over to the Mediterranean for a look at a shipwreck before supper. Would you two care to join us?”
Goat-Girl was ecstatic. “Where are we going, exactly?”
“My divers have begun excavating a wreck off the coast of Crete. It does look promising, and I understand that there are some objects of particular interest.”
“Your divers?” Harry, his curiosity piqued, finally spoke.
“Oh yes, indeed. Have you never heard of the Salmon P. Wiggle Institute for Marine Studies and Conservation? We do quite a bit of work on ancient Mediterranean shipwrecks. Phips, would you be so kind as to fetch me the yo-yo?”
Goat-Girl and Harry goggled. Phips, however, merely produced from the seemingly bottomless basket a bright purple yo-yo. Mr. Wiggle scribbled something on a tape, dropped the Yo-yo, wrapped the tape around the string, and deftly returned the yo-yo to its original state. As if this behavior were not odd enough, he walked to the edge of the shelf and casually tossed the entire thing off the edge of the cliff.
Lady Peabody looked on approvingly from her cushion.
Phips seemed to find nothing strange whatsoever about this latest development, and calmly packed away the remains of their tea.
Goat-Girl and Harry exchanged glances that might have communicated something to the effect of “What have we gotten ourselves into now?” Then again, it might have simply been the beginning of pure mutual panic. It was difficult to say, and after a moment nobody cared anyway.
This was probably because several seconds later, a large contraption rose past the cliff face and hovered just within stepping range. Its brightly colored canopy towered above the watchers, who stepped one by one into the basket suspended beneath it. “Off we go, then!” said Mr. Wiggle with a certain amount of what might be termed glee, although that was difficult to say too. Goat-Girl and Harry were too busy staring at the receding mountains to care much. They were so entranced by the view before them, with the wind in their hair and Lady Peabody seated sedately beside them, that they completely missed the large shadow rounding one particular peak. This oversight gained a place on the growing list of insignificant events since just then the basket gave a sudden twirl, and they found themselves facing a wide, flat stretch of land. Beyond that glittered a line of sea, and the monstrous shadow was, as far as they were concerned, as good as nonexistent.
I may have mentioned the monstrosity hidden behind the following LJ-cuts a while back. It was written before I saw Disney's Around the World in 80 Days, so don't blame me if certain plot elements bear some resemblance to one another. This bit may be re-written at some point to account for certain events necessary for the conclusion. I just have to write the middle bit, and then y'all can stop bugging me about it. If certain other plot elements bear some resemblance to my nautical archaeology final, well, duh.
The dragon left them atop a small cliff which they could easily scramble down (“Goodbye, Dragon-buddy!”) and soared off into the darkening sky (“I’ve really got to find myself a name!”).
The first thing Goat-Girl and Harry saw upon reaching the ground was a very large hamper covered with a spotless white cloth. The second and third (and perhaps fourth) things they saw were two men and a Persian cat. The first man saw them almost immediately, and stood with a calmly shocked expression, peering at them for a moment through a highly polished monocle. He pulled himself together immediately and addressed the motley group in cultured, utterly polite tones.
“Who, pray, are you? If I may be so bold as to ask.”
Unfortunately, this genteel statement was uttered at precisely the same moment as the cat’s loud (but equally cultured) yowl of surprise. There was no response from either Harry or Goat-Girl. The man tried again.
“I beg your pardon. Allow me to introduce myself and my companions. This is my butler, Phips. My cat, Lady Peabody. I am Mr. Salmon P. Wiggle, Esquire, Count of the Starry Down: Gentleman.”
“Won’t you sit down?” Mr. Salmon P. Wiggle, Esquire, Count of the Starry Down: Gentleman gestured politely toward several rocks which appeared to be somewhat more comfortable than the rest. Goat-Girl and Harry, after several startled glances at the Gentleman, the cat, the butler, and each other, sat down. “We were just about to take afternoon tea; pray join us. We three should greatly welcome your company in this rocky desolation.”
In short order Goat-Girl and Harry found themselves sipping tea (poured from a bone china teapot) out of bone china cups and holding bits of cake over bone china saucers that had appeared from the depths of the hamper. Phips served them with appropriate butlerly gravity, while Lady Peabody stared at them regally from atop a red velvet cushion. In between bites and gulps they managed to introduce themselves to the Gentleman and his companions, and in slightly less coherent chunks explained their business in the “rocky desolation”. The Gentleman was unfazed by both their trials and their disjointed narrative style; he took the extraordinary events concerning the curse, the terriers, Harry’s wand, and the countercurse, not to mention the dragon, all in stride. Even the part involving the Beach Boys produced only a small nod and the slightest elevation of one eyebrow.
Goat-Girl and Harry began to suspect that Mr. Salmon P. Wiggle, Esquire, Count of the Starry Down: Gentleman had more to his character than they might have initially expected. Indeed, one can nearly always be sure than anyone who takes his tea in the middle of the Himalayas with a butler and Persian cat in tow must be someone out of the ordinary.
The travelers had just finished their cake and were handing their cups to Phips when something whizzed overhead in a streak of brilliant colors, clicking madly. The whatever-it-was was being hotly pursued by several chipmunks seated in miniature gliders. The chipmunks, gliders, and whatever-it-was zoomed around the tallest clump of rocks and vanished into the distance.
“What was that?” asked Harry and Goat-Girl simultaneously.
Mr. Wiggle looked grave. “It must be that troublesome Rubik’s Cube of Doom again. I’d hoped to avoid further encounters with the device, but it seems that this horror has been unleashed upon the world again. I really must do something about it one of these days.” He shook his head, while Phips carefully replaced the white cover on the hamper and Mrs. Peabody looked after the Rubik’s Cube with an expression of disdain. “Never mind that dreadful mind-stealing device now. I had thought of popping over to the Mediterranean for a look at a shipwreck before supper. Would you two care to join us?”
Goat-Girl was ecstatic. “Where are we going, exactly?”
“My divers have begun excavating a wreck off the coast of Crete. It does look promising, and I understand that there are some objects of particular interest.”
“Your divers?” Harry, his curiosity piqued, finally spoke.
“Oh yes, indeed. Have you never heard of the Salmon P. Wiggle Institute for Marine Studies and Conservation? We do quite a bit of work on ancient Mediterranean shipwrecks. Phips, would you be so kind as to fetch me the yo-yo?”
Goat-Girl and Harry goggled. Phips, however, merely produced from the seemingly bottomless basket a bright purple yo-yo. Mr. Wiggle scribbled something on a tape, dropped the Yo-yo, wrapped the tape around the string, and deftly returned the yo-yo to its original state. As if this behavior were not odd enough, he walked to the edge of the shelf and casually tossed the entire thing off the edge of the cliff.
Lady Peabody looked on approvingly from her cushion.
Phips seemed to find nothing strange whatsoever about this latest development, and calmly packed away the remains of their tea.
Goat-Girl and Harry exchanged glances that might have communicated something to the effect of “What have we gotten ourselves into now?” Then again, it might have simply been the beginning of pure mutual panic. It was difficult to say, and after a moment nobody cared anyway.
This was probably because several seconds later, a large contraption rose past the cliff face and hovered just within stepping range. Its brightly colored canopy towered above the watchers, who stepped one by one into the basket suspended beneath it. “Off we go, then!” said Mr. Wiggle with a certain amount of what might be termed glee, although that was difficult to say too. Goat-Girl and Harry were too busy staring at the receding mountains to care much. They were so entranced by the view before them, with the wind in their hair and Lady Peabody seated sedately beside them, that they completely missed the large shadow rounding one particular peak. This oversight gained a place on the growing list of insignificant events since just then the basket gave a sudden twirl, and they found themselves facing a wide, flat stretch of land. Beyond that glittered a line of sea, and the monstrous shadow was, as far as they were concerned, as good as nonexistent.
no subject
Date: 2004-06-30 03:19 pm (UTC)got a new shanty for you & here it is:
Sugar in the Hold
I wish I was in Mobile Bay, screwing cotton all of the day
But I'm stowing sugar in the hold below,
Below, below, below
Chorus: Hey, ho, below, below
Stowing sugar in the hold below
Hey, ho, below, below
Stowing sugar in the hold below
The J.M. White, she's a new boat
Stem to stern she's mighty fine
Beat any boat on the New Orleans line
Stowing sugar in the hold below
The engineer shouts through his trumpet
"Tell the mate we got bad news.
Can't get steam for the fire in the flue"
Stowing sugar in the hold below
The captain's on the quarter deck
Scratchin' 'way at his old neck
And he cries out, "Heave the larboard lead"
Stowing sugar in the hold below
hope you like. it's nice, short & energetic since everyone was falling asleep today in class. :)
so how's the hair coming along? grown out much yet? & not to worry. can alway fall back on plan b to deal with it.
looking forward to seeing you soon!
-melanie
no subject
Date: 2004-06-30 06:26 pm (UTC)*blush* Thank you.
The shanty is most exciting! Can't wait to sing it. As for the hair, I must search for an appropriate cap. Perhaps I can raid my dad's closet. Again. ;)
no subject
Date: 2004-07-01 08:44 pm (UTC)awww, fiona. well, might i suggest a newsboy? allie had one & it mighty fine. *pictures fiona in one & liking the image* :)
here's a new shanty:
Haul Away Joe
Chorus:Way, haul away,
We'll haul away the bowlin'.
Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe.
Way, haul away,
The packet is a rollin'.
Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe.
Oh, once I had an Irish girl,
And she was fat and lazy.
Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe.
Then I had a Spanish girl,
She nearly drove me crazy.
Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe.
When I was a little boy,
And so my mother told me,
Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe
That if I didn't kiss the girls,
My lips would go all mouldy.
Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe.
Georgie Charlton had a pig
And it was double jointed,
Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe
He took it to the butcher's shop
To get its trotters pointed.
Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe.
2nd Chorus:Way, haul away,
We'll hang and haul together.
Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe.
Way, haul away,
We'll haul for better weather.
Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe.
Once I was in Ireland,
Digging turf and 'taties
Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe.
But now I'm on a lime-juice ship,
Hauling on the braces.
Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe.
King Louis was the King of France
Before the Revolution,
Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe.
But Louis got his head cut off,
Which spoiled his constitution.
Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe.
Once I married an Irish girl,
And her name was Flannigan,
Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe.
She stole my money, she stole my clothes,
She stole my plate and pannikin.
Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe.
St Patrick was a gentleman,
He came of dacent people,
Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe.
He built a church in Dublin town
And on it put a steeple.
Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe.
no subject
Date: 2004-07-01 08:46 pm (UTC)enjoy the shanty!
-melanie
no subject
Date: 2004-07-02 09:43 am (UTC)I rather thought it might be. ;)