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999. vonKreedon - 7/30/2009 8:42:29 PM Raymond Chandler - Office UA Writer:
It was hot in Seattle. Not Los Angeles’ Santa Ana winds hot, the blast-furnace heat that drives men mad and women into those mad men’s arms. No, a calm persistent claustrophobic heat that drove men and women alike to stay at work where there was air conditioning, and the Internet, so that they could complain on Facebook about the heat while observing it from the coolness of the office. I got out of my rented Prius and started to sweat as I made my way up the stone steps to the polished hardwood door, the door slightly ajar to let in the breeze. As I started to lift the brass door knocker the door swung open and there she was, wolf grey eyes on a moon pale face framed by Goth black hair. Eileen, she was my client now, once though she’d been much more than that, but that like the Santa Ana wind was a memory of Los Angeles.
Eileen had called me weeping the night before, saying something about needing me to come up and troubleshoot some catalog merge issue, or something. I couldn’t really get the story out of her between her sobbing and the bad cell connection, so I settled for calming her down and took the red-eye up to Seattle.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
“Babe, a promise is a promise, I expect you remember that.” I tried to keep the hurt out of my voice if not my eyes. “Show me your problem so I can fix this up and get back to a bar with air conditioning.”
“Here, I’m trying to get this catalog for Michael’s shoe exporting company to the printer before he gets back from Vancouver. If I don’t he’s going to be so upset…he hits me sometimes, and…other things.”
I ignored the sickening freefalling elevator trip that my stomach took as Eileen talked of Michael hurting her and concentrated on the Publisher 2007 publication she was showing me. She had gotten as far as launching the Catalog Merge wizard from the Tools, Catalog merge menu.
“I can connect to this one database, but Michael says that there are two databases for this catalog and I don’t know what to do!” Her chin quivered and my knees weakened.
“No problem doll, here in the Catalog Merger Product List dialog, just choose Select an existing list in the Add to product list area. Now pay attention, this brings up the Select data source window, so where does your husband keep his data?”
“Who wants to know?” Michaels baritone voice was accompanied by a pair of .38 Police Specials for emphasis. 1000. alistairConnor - 7/30/2009 9:43:54 PM J.K.Rowling - Office UA Writer:
"Harry! Wake up! ..."
Harry woke from troubled dreams and found he was slumped over his laptop in the library. "Gotta get this assignment finished", he mumbled to Hermione.
"Goodness Harry, haven't you finished your Lives of the Great Wizards presentation yet? You know you're going to fail Magical History if you don't hand it in tomorrow."
"I've got all the material I need", said Harry. "And it hangs together, sort of. But the formatting is no good."
A subliminal image of a ghost started zipping across the screen of his computer, a reedy voice accompanying the rythmic movement :
"Potter is a rotter, his Office skills are zero.
He'll never get a proper job, the messy little hero!"
"Get out of there Peeves!" shouted Harry, pointing his wand threateningly at the screen.
"All right, I'm going!" said the House ghost sulkily. "Just a harmless bit of fun!" The CD drawer slid open and he slithered out of it flatly, before resuming a three-dimensional translucent form and disappearing through a bookshelf, giggling like a maniac.
The three friends stared despondently at the thumbnails of Harry's thirty slides, with their widely differing typefaces and colour schemes.
"Face it mate, you're rubbish at Powerpoint." said Ron smugly. "Pack it in Ron", said Harry angrily, rising to his feet.
"No hang on Harry, we're here to help! Listen, there's this really wicket web site where you can download all sorts of Office templates. Go on : Marvolo.com, have a look."
"I've got a bad feeling about this!" said Hermione. "Oh don't be wet!" said Ron. "Look how about this scheme : Gothic Pallor. That'll be really good for a history presentation."
"Anachronism, Ron. The so-called Gothic style is a late 20th century Muggle trend with no relevance to..."
"Harry!" Ron said in a frightened voice. "Have you ... have you updated your antivirus lately?"
"Oh. I was meaning to, only..."
A black mist streamed out of the liquid crystal panel and filled the air, obliterating their surroundings completely. In a few seconds it cleared, revealing a totally new location.
"Yessss!" gloated Lord Voldemort. "The three finest wizards of their generation have carelessly uploaded themselves into my very server center!" 1001. vonKreedon - 7/30/2009 10:04:19 PM Nice! 1002. wabbit - 7/30/2009 11:47:30 PM Someone knows their Potter... 1003. wabbit - 7/31/2009 12:06:46 AM VonK, if I may...
The Chandler is quite good, but the Clancy needs some techno-jargon - hardware related (as opposed to software).
Colonel-General Tupolev was a demanding taskmaster, but the task he gave to his adjutant, Major Tamilla Kortovna, was even more daunting that was his usual wont. He required a set of aluminum die-cut place cards for the annual 'Umansko-Berlinskaya' Brigade reunion, for the over than 12,000 current and former members of the Guards Motor Rifle Brigade registered in three different Russian military, veterans, and Party databases. He wanted the cards printed by tomorrow at 10:00. Of course the Colonel-General also had to have the reunion in the Ingushetian provincial center of Nazran, all but on the border with both Chechnya and Georgia. And finally, her T-3 Internet connection was down, again.
Tamilla called the IT department of the 58th Combined Arms Army and lit a fire under the Officer of the Watch. Her connection was up in under five minutes. While she waited, Tamilla booted her new Lenovo notebook and opened the Publisher 2010 place card template she had downloaded earlier from Office.com. She added one of the stock military clip art borders through the Insert tab’s Borders and Accent building block collection and changed the color and font schemes on the Page Design tab. Since the Internet connection was now up, she then clicked the Mailing tab, launched the Step by Step Mail Merge Wizard and added the three databases in the Mail Merge Recipients dialog, and pressed OK. Once she had approval, which was a mere formality, IT could cut the design on aluminum sheets with a Spartanics' high-speed laser die-cut printer, acquired through channels about which she preferred not to know.
She looked out the window just in time to see a truck bomb explode under a Zil-131... Clancy is a detail-obsessed hardware nerd. Think Red October.1004. wabbit - 7/31/2009 12:07:19 AM You do know I'm pulling your leg, right? 1005. vonKreedon - 7/31/2009 12:41:50 AM Yes, and you are also quite correct. And the Chandler needs a different car with something about it beyond "rented" and I cut Marlowe admiring the twitch in Eileen's walk as they walked down the dark wood-paneled hallway to the den and then the drink she mixe, Tanqueray and Tonic, for the two of them, For the form I'm writing, casual e-mail/Facebook, I wrote with little editing other than trimming to not lose the UA part under the weight of the imitation. 1006. wabbit - 7/31/2009 12:58:58 AM This reminds me of a master drawing class I once had. We were assigned artists whose style we had to imitate. We couldn't copy a drawing/painting, we had to have our own subject matter, but in the style of the assigned artist. Assigned by the instruction, not chosen by us. I got Giacometti and Seurat, and I can't begin to say what a great learning experience it was. It's a lot harder than one might think. 1007. wabbit - 7/31/2009 12:59:55 AM InstructOR, not instruction. Sheesh. 1008. alistairconnor - 7/31/2009 10:43:41 PM Someone knows their Potter...
Well, I have read all the books. Aloud. And seen all the films. Several times. Such are the burdens of a modern father. 1009. wabbit - 8/1/2009 12:03:46 AM As have I, and I don't have the excuse of children. Ok, I only read the first two aloud to my nieces, but I've read all the books. Haven't seen the latest film, but will soon.
Alice in Wonderland remains my favorite. 1010. alistairconnor - 8/1/2009 10:53:32 PM The holographic image of Kronen appeared, large as life, and twice as cheesy. He clowned around, smiling and waving to the others. "Come in Kronen", said Alistair. "Could you manage a bit of dignity? How will it look on the network news?"
"We are taping the event for our own records only", observed Dr Vassiliu. "There will be no media releases for the moment."
"Then think about the documentaries. Forty years from now, your grandchildren are going to cringe."
"Then perhaps we can do a second take?" said Kronen, seeming genuinely concerned.
The image of Kronen faded as Dr Vassiliu reduced the power of the ion beam. Errin Davidson seemed ecstatic, amazed and thrilled to see her theories so dramatically confirmed.
Sorin said : "This experiment is fascinating, but I don't see the connection with vampirology."
Professor Albu replied, somewhat embarrassed : "We had intended to repeat the experiment with a second subject, a vampire, because it would seem that there ought, theoretically, to be a considerable amplification effect due to certain specifics of vampire physiology and cellular biology. However, our subject, Courtney, is not yet eighteen, so cannot legally consent to the experiment."
"Why didn't you say so before?" said Dumitra, smiling. "It seems I'm the designated crash-test dummy today. Is there a form I have to sign, or can we just get on with it?" 1011. wabbit - 8/2/2009 11:38:30 PM That last makes me smile. Perpetual Darkness page is up to date. 1012. alistairconnor - 8/15/2009 3:46:51 PM As Dumitra was being installed in the phone-booth structure, Dr Vassiliu called them all to attention and gave a grave little speech.
"All of the information about the first experiment, which is a joint project between Dr Davidson and myself, is in the public domain. This is a fundamental requirement for all work at CERN, of course. There is keen interest in the holographic effect we have demonstrated today, in the worldwide quantum physics community, and there will be considerable interest and interaction, mostly on the internet of course.
"I must stress, however, that the second experiment, involving Dr Kronen's theories, is entirely ... informal. This is, in itself, highly irregular, however, we feel that the issues surrounding the interaction of cellular biology and nuclear physics are not yet... ripe for public discussion. I must therefore urge you all to discretion. Even to ... though as a scientist I can hardly believe I am asking you this... to absolute secrecy in this matter. The director of CERN has been informed, and has given his... tacit approval."
Dumitra viewed the hushed assembly with amused detachment. She was rather enjoying herself : all this fuss somewhat took her mind off her other preoccupations, namely her severe meth cravings, her desperate feelings of abandonment since Hank's mysterious departure, her all-pervading sense of her own worthlessness and desire to die.
"We're ready", announced Dr Kronen, from the control console where he was standing, tensely and awkwardly, with Vassiliu and Errin Davidson. "We will increase the power of the ion beam much more slowly this time, as we are unsure of the correct power level."
"I feel I should say a few historic words", said Dumitra. "Fit for a future documentary. Are you ready?"
Vassiliu smiled and told her to go ahead.
"Beam me up, Scotty." 1013. alistairconnor - 8/15/2009 3:59:14 PM The holographic image started to appear in the second phone box after only a few seconds, and rapidly became denser, but seemed strangely blurred.
"Projectionist! Get the focus right!" heckled Alistair.
Courtney gave a little scream : "Look! She's gone unfocused here too!" And indeed, Dumitra herself seemed as blurred and translucent as her holographic image.
"Power down!" commanded Kronen, and Vassiliu dialed back the ion beam rapidly.
There was a sound like a balloon popping, and Alistair thought he felt a puff of breeze. Dumitra was now quite opaque and focused, standing in the second phone booth.
There was a stunned silence, followed by a ragged cheer from the scientists.
"How do you feel?" said Sorin, helping Dumitra out of the cabin. She had a serene smile, and seemed to glow with health and wellbeing.
"Clean." she said. "Unburdened. Released. Fuck, that was good."
"How good was it, exactly?" said Alistair, arching an eyebrow.
"Oh, better than any drug I've ever tried. Better than... " she paused for reflection. "Better than all but the very best of sex. Can I do it again?" 1014. alistairconnor - 8/21/2009 11:06:12 PM Sorin was flushed and elated. "You're taking it all pretty seriously, aren't you?" teased Alistair.
"Yes, isn't she wonderful!" he enthused.
"She? Oh you mean Dr Davidson! Well, she's... " a sidelong glance at Halima... "not my type of course but I can see where..."
"Do you think she has an ... involvement with Kronen?" Sorin queried.
Alistair paused a few seconds for reflection. "Involvement? I think not... That is, I'd say he had a go, and got knocked back, categorically. You can trust me on this. I'm a world authority on the subject."
Sorin grinned at him gratefully. "And do you think that..."
"Do you think that you would have a chance with her? Well, this is a subject on which I am an acknowledged non-expert. However, for what it's worth, I can assure you that you have an infinitely better chance than Kronen had. Because Kronen is a player; and Davidson, I think, is not. And nor are you."
Sorin thought about this for a moment, then thanked him gravely. 1015. alistairconnor - 8/21/2009 11:28:16 PM That evening, while Dumitra was taking her HIV medication, Halima had another try at getting her to talk about Hank. She had been worrying about his disappearance all day, and furious with herself for trusting him too much.
"So, where do you think he's gone?"
"Skiing, of course. You saw the note he left me. He talked a lot about skiing, ever since we met", she lied. She was determined to cover for him, whether he was coming back or not.
Getting to the point, Halima challenged her : "Do you think he's gone back to the Organisation?"
Dumitra frowned, then smiled wryly. "I honestly don't know".
"And you honestly wouldn't tell me if you did. I understand. You're loyal to him. But where do his loyalties lie? If he tells them what we are doing here, they will come after us. They will kill us all if they can."
They stared at each other, neither flinching. Halima added : "So if you hear from him... " She paused. "Ask him to get in touch with me."
She thought of something else : "How's your meth craving? Bad taste to talk about it, I know, but..."
Dumitra frowned, and answered : "It's odd, I don't know where it's gone. But I could do with a cigarette." 1016. alistairconnor - 8/21/2009 11:40:05 PM Hank was awakened near dawn, rather roughly, by Davidson, returned from his nocturnal prowlings.
"What are your instructions, Master Mirka?" he said, vacating the coffin.
"Oh, enjoy some free time, lad." said Davidson, taking his place in the portable sarcophagus. "I will tell you all the details of the plan at sunset, when I awake. Be here then, dressed and equipped for cat burglary. That is all."
Doesn't trust me, thought Hank. Fair enough.
He now had ten hours of daylight to fill, before the nocturnal mission. He was itching for action, he had no desire to think through the consequences. He knew full well that this was his last chance to flee, to put as much distance as possible between himself and a vengeful Organisation.
He decided to go skiing. 1017. alistairconnor - 8/22/2009 12:24:39 AM The following morning, Milòs and Laslò met for breakfast at their habitual café.
"So, how did it go at the banquet?" asked Laslò.
"Well, I called in a few favours and managed to get put in charge of the sauces."
"You mean, you sucked a few cocks!"
"Don't be so crude, Laslò. That isn't how it works. As it happens, the principal sous-chef is in love with me. So anyway, it was quite easy to incorporate the blood into almost everything, barring desserts."
"Oh, so you worked out it was blood?"
"Well, it sure tastes like blood!" Milòs smacked his lips noisily. "What about you? How did your collecting go?"
"Well! During the banquet, while the guests were out, I did the rounds of my little helpers..."
"Getting your cock sucked?" suggested Milòs.
"Oh no, very businesslike, no time for funny business. Between them they got quite a haul : toenail clippings, lots of hair, stuff like that. We carefully labelled it all and I filed it in my collection. Last of all I called on Heidi."
"Surely that's not her real name?"
"Well, actually her name is Sophia. But she's a farmer's daughter from a high Alpine valley. She'll always be Heidi to me. Anyway, I had arranged to meet her in one of the presidential suites. She was leaning over the bath, cleaning it, and I thought : here's trouble. Then I saw her panties on the floor, and I knew it was a trap. Sure enough, she hitched up her dress and smiled at me from both ends, if you see what I mean. I tried to explain that there was no time, but before I managed to finish the sentence she had my cock in her mouth. Well, maybe I stammered a bit." 1018. alistairconnor - 8/22/2009 1:05:10 AM "Well, you know how sometimes you just can't fight it? So anyway, we got naked on the master bed, and we were doing some sixty-nine. Warm up for the main event. And that's when the door opens, and it's Madame, home early from the banquet."
"Singer songwriter? Used to be a model?"
"That's the one... I guess she's in her forties, but if I could have my pick of all the Presidents' wives... So anyway, I'm thinking we're both going to get fired for this, but she's grinning like a Cheshire cat. So I smile at her and I'm about to offer her some dick, but that's not what she's interested in. She literally pounces on Heidi's pussy!"
Milòs whooped with delight.
"Keep it down!" said Laslò. "This is definitely very confidential. So, Heidi's not fighting her off, on the contrary, and here's me, holding my dick, as the saying goes. But she's interested in me too, and I help her get undressed, and I get to snuffle around her crotch too. She's obviously much better than me, because by the time I get her to come, Heidi's already come three times or so. So then she climbs on top of Heidi, missionary style, and she's kissing her and stuff, and she wants me to do her from behind."
"In the ass?" asked Milòs eagerly.
"No, no... Not many women actually like that. You'd be surprised. The little Turkish girl on the third floor being an exception." They both laughed.
Laslò continued : "So, I'm boning the Dame - she seems to like it pretty well - and she's doing Heidi with her fingers, and after a while I can tell they're both going to come. So I thought I might as well let rip too -- you know, get it over with. Work to do, and all. And that's when the door opens again..."
"And it's Monsieur, right? I saw him getting hustled out of the banquet early, by his minders. He looked like he'd had one too many."
"From what I hear, one drink is one too many for him. So anyway, here he is, with a glazed expression and a big goofy grin, and he takes a few steps towards us, then registers what's going on -- in case you've forgotten, I'm fucking his wife in a three-way with the chambermaid -- and his jaw drops and his eyes are like saucers. And I sort of half-turn towards him, and my cock slips out and I jizz on him."
Milòs was shaking so much with laughter he almost fell off his chair. "You were supposed to get a sample from him... not give him one!" he gasped.
"Good point..." Laslò frowned.
"So... how come you're here, and not being renditioned to some Middle East torture chamber or something?" gasped Milòs.
"Well, that was when the alarms went off. Security lockdown. So we all just got dressed, avoiding each other's eyes, and went our separate ways."
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