View Full Version : Fajita Sunrise, Chapter 13

01-05-2009, 09:02 PM
Better late than never, huh?

Or is it better the other way around.

I just heard from Writer Guy # 27, and boy, is he mad. It seems that SOMEBODY was supposed to post Chapter 13 this morning and forgot to do it. Was it JAYCINTH? I think not. She posted Chapter 11. Was it HAGGIS? I think not. I posted Chapter 12. So who might the culprit be?

Whoever it was, I want Rolling Thunder him to know that he made me take precious time out of my day to calm down Writer Guy # 27 AND additional time to post this thing which I.Did.Not.Write.

So if you have issues with this chapter, take it up with THE GUY WHO FORGOT TO POST IT. Not me.

Chapter 13-Too Much Broth Spoils the Cook

Mscelina stared through the kitchen window in dis-blief. She rubbed her eyes, checked again and then hit the intercom button.


“MMMMMmmmmm.” The intercom picked up a muffled noise before it went silent.

“It’s important this time.” Mscelina yelled. She was greeted with silence punctuated by a muffled ‘poot’ from the closet. A rainbow of light shone briefly from under the door.

“OK then, I’m going to make that deposition now…” Mscelina smiled as she heard a crash and a bump. She looked up at the sound of feet on the staircase.

“How many times have I told you not to say word without me present?” SoccerMom said as she galloped down the stairs. She was closely followed by a man wearing parts of a blue and silver uniform, mostly inside out.

“I know. I was just trying to get your attention.”

“Hrumph. There’s a word for that in Texas,” SoccerMom said, then returned her attention to the man who was now smoothing the wrinkles out of his jersey.

“Well, Tony, it appears as if I have to tend to my other, ahem, clients. We’ll finish up on that pre-nup between you and Jessica another time. Believe me, if she even wears a cologne you don’t like, you’ll get her entire fortune.” She kissed her client, adjusting her briefs as he left the building.
“Ok, you’ve got my attention. This better be good.”

“Look in the kitchen,” Mscelina said.

The women put their faces to the window and watched Mel.

“Yesssss my armadillossssess ssssooon ssssooon,” Mel said in a sibilant voice. The suddenly he stopped and stared at the ceiling.

“But we can’t hurts Jaycinth, she lets us use toilet paper!” Mel replied in a voice stolen from a Muppet.

“Jaysssssssssinth hatessss usssses, she doessss. Wantsssussesss to BATHE!!!!”

“But she said it was to make bullion for the chili, and I wouldn’t actually be getting clean!”

“SSSShe givesssss usssessss SSSSSOAPSSSSS!”

“But she said it was to fatten up the head lice!”

“SSSShe LIESSSSSESSSS…YESSSS sssshe doessssss. Wantssss to hurtsss usssess and our vile parasssssitesssssesssss!!”

“OMG! Mscelina, how long has than been going on?”

“How long have you been upstairs de-briefing your client?”

“Why didn’t you get Ben, He knows how to handle this.”

“He’s in the closet.”

“Nobody’s ‘in the closet’ any more, It’s almost 2009!”

“That closet over there, remember?”

“Yeah. When I find the writer that did that, I’m so going to sue....”

SoccerMom walked over to the door and pounded. “Out of the closet Ben.”

“I’m not really in here,” said a muffled voice.

“Yes you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“I can hear you.”

“No you can’t.

“Yes, we can,” Mscelina said.

“Must be a rat.”

“No, Mel used all the rats to make Fajita wrappers.”

“No he didn’t, they’re in the closet. Listen SQUEEK SQUEEK!”

“That’s not rats, it’s you.”

“Prove it.

Soccer Mom grabbed the doorknob and wrenched it open. Out stepped a giant rat in a beanie cap and bow tie, smelling strongly of greasy pepperoni and tomato sauce. It waved to them, then fell face down on the floor.
“GAK!” Mscelina said gagging on the smell. She rushed to the door and flung it open.

“See, I told you,” Ben Panced said, entering with HeronW.

“What the heck. . .”

“Yes, indeed, there is heck about. It seems that the Cabaret barflies, who were on their way to help Jay stop us from rudely hatching our nefarious plot, have themselves fallen prey to a secretly connived deceitful scheme!”

“Yes!” HeronW exclaimed, preening. “Dawno and Poetinahat intercepted my prey before I could swoop in. They’ve been taken to the lavender and green secret desert hideaway exactly 93.876520918 kilometers south-southwest of Flagstaff Arizona. You follow the old dirt road and make a turn at the Smiling Cactus…good Margaritas, by the way.. . .”

“You mean Dawno’s done our work for us?” Mscelina asked.

“Well, not all of it. RT was the most dangerous, and we took care of him first. The barflies were unanticipated, of course, but they would have been easy. Now they are no threat. That leaves just Jaycinth and Haggis.”

“But…Jaycinth’s a fairy!” Mscelina said..

“And Haggis…is not,” Panced said. He smiled. “You know what to do, SoccerMom?”

“Indeed I do,” Soccermom said. She hiked up her briefcase and trotted out the door.

“But, what about Mel? He’s lost it in there, and we have to serve this crap in 3 hours!”

Ben pushed open the door and a noxious smell knocked them all but down. Smiling, eyes tearing, Ben marched into the kitchen.

“Great Mel, you’ve outdone yourself!”

Mel looked up from the corner where he’d been picking his ears then skittered like a spider to fawn at Ben’s feet.

“His sweat’s eating holes in your boots, Ben,” ’celina observed. Ben took a step backward.

“Yes, Mel, this is beyond my wildest dreams. Now all we have to do is serve it.”

“Serve it? But I never ‘serve’ it. I use it to catch fish for the rats.”

“That explains a lot,” Mscelina said.

“Well, Mel, we’re going to take all this food to a place where there are lots of fish.”

“So I can feed lots of rats?”

“Yes, Mel, so you can feed lots of rats. “Celina, go get the Panced-mobile, it’s time to see our nefarious plot served!”


Dawno checked her laptop then turned her attention back to her captives.

“….and then I said to myself, I said BMWHTLY, you’ve been dead for almost 500 years now, don’t you think it’s about time you took up a different career? So I said to myself, I said, Right-O BMW, we seem to have gotten ourselves into quite a rut. So I sat myself up and walked right on out of the morgue. Gave the poor orderly a heart attack, I’m afraid but it was then that I. . . .”

“Shut up.” Dawno said.

“No, why would I do that? I wrapped a towel about my self and I went looking for some clothing. I never dreamed that General. . . “

“No, I mean, I want you to shut up so I can torture you.”

“Can’t you torture me while I’m talking?”

“Absolutely not. Your talking makes it unpleasant.”

“I rather think it’s the torture that’s the unpleasant part. I, myself, quite enjoy talking. Now, where was I? Yes. The general had brought his mistress along and. . .”


“That’s a bit rude, don’t you think?”

“No. I’m doing the torturing, so I make the rules. . .”

“No you don’t.” Sister OFG said.

“I didn’t tell you to talk, either.”

“You didn’t tell me not to talk.”

“That’s true,” Sister Susie said.

“There are rules governing this kind of thing, you know,” Dawno said.

“I’ve never seen them,” OFG said.

“That’s right” Cray agreed.

“They might have something,” Poetinahat said.

“You’re on their side now?”

“Well they have a point.”

Dawno pulled the needle off the recording of ABBA’s greatest hits that she’d been playing, and stomped to her desk in an angry moue. She picked up her cell phone and dialed.


St. Nicholas Russsian Orthodox Church sits on Massachusetts Avenue near Observatory Circle. While mass was being said in Russian, a phone rang in a room in a special house not too far away.

A man in that house had been waiting for that phone to ring. He put down his shot gun and answered.

“It’s me.”


“Yeah, me.”

“What’s up?”

“I need some information on torture.”


“No, torture.”


“When I’m finished. Now Torture?”

“What about torture? I don’t know anything about torture.”

“Hypothetically. I mean if you were writing the book.”

“Oh. OK.”

“Great, now lets us say, hypothetically you were going to torture people and they kept talking to you.”

“What are they talking about??"


“War stuff?”

“No, general stuff.”

“I thought General Stuff retired.”

“Since when?”

“You had a question?”

“I’m trying to torture these folks and they keep talking to me and they won’t shut up and let me get on with it. I was kinda hoping you’d point out the rule that says they can’t talk.”

“They’re supposed to talk. That’s what it’s all about.”

“I thought the ‘Hokey Pokey’ is what it’s all about..” Sister OFG yelled from where she’d been tied.

“I can put my left hand in, if you untie me!” Sister Susie said smiling through the sparkling mist.

“You’re not doing it right…wait…is that ABBA I hear?”

“Uh, yes sir. We thought. . .”

“I LOVE ABBA. . .”


“Listen. Sister OFG is capable of taking care of herself, and BMW is capable of anything, so they’re probably safe.”

I was seated in a booth in the back The Coffee House of Pain. It was sunset, and we’d run out of options.

“I say we go back to the Cabaret and place an ad in the Newbie thread for some new bar. . ..” Haggis barked, but RT put a sock in it.

“Damn foot fungus. I’d almost gotten rid of it before they shoved me down the toilet,” RT said as he stripped off the other sock. Two newbies, cheerful and full of the writing muse gagged and flounced.

“That’s pretty disgusting, RT.” I’ve seen some pretty horrid things during my existence and at that moment, RT’s feet had seized first place with a vengeance usually reserved for retribution sequels in ninja movies.

“You’re right, Jay, I can’t do anything in this shape. I’m going to track down Some coarse grade sand paper and a gallon of brake fluid,” RT said. “Once I get my toesies in good shape, we ‘ll take off to the conference center.” He jumped out of the booth and headed out the back door just as the waiter brought Haggis his bacon.

“I better keep an eye on him,” Clockwork said. He donned an inscrutable disguise and followed RT out into the alley. Nobody would ever notice him disguised as Elvis Presley.

I took a slug from my flask then almost choked as the front door opened. …
“Soccer Mom!” I exclaimed.

Haggis leaped to his feet, spilling his bacon across the floor. He didn’t even look down because there she was with those big puppy eyes and a tail that would make even the most Golden Retriever sit up and beg. The bitch was eye candy, I’ll give her that, eye candy with litigation written all over it, and I knew just where that subpoena was going to be filed.

“What’re you doing here ‘mom?” I asked. “Last I heard you’d moved from LOL Cats to Bad Cats.”

“I own this place, ‘cinth. And this is OP. Even I don’t accept clients from P&CE.”

SoccerMom shook herself a little, the effect on Haggis was as I’d expected. He had stars in his eyes and if his tail wagged any harder, he’d be up on the ceiling with Del.

“I’ve heard stories, ‘mom. I know about’ Panced.”

Soccer Mom ignored me and turned to Haggis.

“So, how’s Paris?”

“P-p-paris? Paris Who?”

I needed to do something, I was losing him. A familiar smell wafted past my nose. I looked up. A waitress walked by with a tray of Bacon-wrapped scallops. I grabbed the platter and shoved a handful of fairy gold in the server’s pocket.

“Take the rest of the night off, DL Hegel,” I said, reading her name-tag. She was stunned, but already shedding the apron. With any luck the lucky soul would take a few suckers in a poker game before the glamour wore off. Outside of fairyland, acorns and toadstools aren’t legal tender.
But I got Haggis’ attention off of SoccerMom’s assets. And from the look on her face, she was none too pleased. But Haggis was.

“MMMMMM….MMMMMMM….MMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!” Haggis said, doing his best ‘Scooby Doo’ impression..

“Well, ‘Cinth,” SoccerMom continued. “That isn’t quite fair of you, is it?”
“You’ve broken his heart before, ‘mom I won’t let you do it again. Not with ‘Panced making the scene. I know what ‘Panced can do. I remember the nacho machine.”

“MMMMMMMM….MMMMMMMMM…..MMMMMmmmmmmm,” said Haggis. He was coming down already, and we were out of scallops.

“Jay, you’ve been drinking again, haven’t you?”

“I never stopped.”

“Haggis, she’s been drinking all day, hasn’t she?” Soccermom asked. Haggis nodded.

“This isn’t about me, ‘Mom. This about you, and ‘Panced, and Mel and Bernies habaneros and. . .”

“Haggis, listen to her. She’s not only gone ‘round the bend, but she’s crossed the street, fallen off the bridge and washed downstream.”

“What are you saying, SoccerMom?” Haggis asked, still bemused.

“She’s in the borderline stages of extreme alcohol-induced TIO paranoia. She’s been hanging in the House of Hate again. If you don’t do something, she’ll flounce for sure!”

Haggis looked at me with those bleery –bloodshot eyes. He was coming down from a snack high and between the bacon and Soccermom, I knew something bad was going to happen.

“What…what should I do?” Haggis asked, staring at Soccer mom.

“Ask her where ‘Panced is, ask her where Mel is,” I shouted. “ You know she knows!! I know you know she knows!”

“See, Haggis…paranoia, plain and simple. Take away her flask.”

“But she keeps it. . .”

“Grab it Haggis.”

“Keep your paws to yourself!”

“Grab it and give it to me…it is the only way we can help her!!!”

“No Haggis, she lies like Bernie Madoff at a stockholder’s meeting.”

‘Paranoia, Haggis. Grab the flask and then we’ll go out and sniff some. . .”

It was too much for Haggis. He grabbed the flask from my garter and handed it to SoccerMom.

“And now, the persecution rests, ‘cinth,” She said and dumped my pint of 150 year old scotch into the spittoon. I sat, paralyzed. My magic potion was gone. In an hour I wouldn’t be able to throw the simplest glamour, in two….I didn’t want to think about that…I couldn’t think about that.
Soccer Mom smiled, wagged, and headed toward the door. Haggis followed.

“Where do you think you’re going Chihuahua head?” HeronW said blocking Haggis.

“But...SoccerMom, she said”

“I know what she said, toy dog. But, remember, she’s a lawyer. Everything was on the record and admissible. But you, puppy, you are not!!!”

She shoved Haggis back through the door where he rolled and landed at my feet. I ignored him. At the very least I needed chocolate, a lot of it and fast. But in the entire coffee house, there was nothing with sugar, nothing with carbs…everything was an ‘Atkin’s special. I started to shake.

“Jay, Jay, Jay…Jaycinth!!!! Haggis barked.


“Here you are, George.”

“What… uh…’s what’s this, Laura?”

“Wild Turkey.”

“I thought you said it was a wild goose?”

“Yes, but now you need Wild Turkey.”

“Does that mean I can have fun now?”

“No, George. Jaycinth is in trouble, you need to take this to her!”

“Is Dick coming?”

“No, George, he’s packing.”

“You mean…he was renting too?”

“Yes, George.”

“Tee heee Teee heeee Teeee heeeee!!!!”


At St. Nicholas Cathedral in Washington D.C. there was one word on everyone’s lips.



“Well, this is weird, Vixey.”

“What’s weird, BeachBunny?”

“It was Christmas in AWland like last week, but here it looks like they’re just putting up the decorations.”

“Hey, you’re right.”

“Must be a Sauerkraut Packers Union thing,” Regdog said hopefully.

“Oh, well , then. Let’s go inside.”


“ So you mean you landed with William the Conqueror, fought the infidels with Saladin, Razed Troy with the Greeks, put down the Boxer Rebellion, rode with Santana, marched on St. Petersburg, twice, defeated the Turks in the Balkans and still had time to vacation in the Caicos. . .?” Shadow Ferret asked.

“No, Ed, you have it a bit wrong,” Bmwhtly said, his patience never wavering. “ I never vacationed in the Caicos. It would have created an untenable carbon footprint. I said I was in CAIRO, in 1833, and. . .”


“I can’t take it anymore, this is PURE TORTURE!!! Poet, get the Dawnomobile and my army, I’ve got to get out of this place, it’s the last place I want to be. . .” She grabbed her sparkly ears and ran from the room like Lucy Van Pelt running from Snoopy.

Silence ensued.

“Well, THAT was rude,” Bmwhtly said.

“I’ll say, “Ed said shaking his tiny ferret sized silver handcuffs, “She didn’t even leave the keys.”


“Teee Heeee Teeee Heeeeeeeeee!!!!!”


Will we ever figure out what a Russian Orthodox Church is doing in AW?

Will Shadow_Ferret manage to break free from his tiny silver handcuffs?

Will Sister Susie kill Robeiae? Please?

Stay tuned to the this channel to find out the answer to these and other burning questions. If whoever is supposed to post this thing remembers, that is.

01-05-2009, 09:12 PM
Cool. I got into a featured question at the end. :)

01-05-2009, 09:13 PM
Cool. I got into a featured question at the end. :)

Okay. I.Did.Write the featured questions. :D

01-05-2009, 09:15 PM
Great story! I think I know the answer to the question Will Sister Susie kill Robeiae. :D

01-05-2009, 09:26 PM
wall to wall awesomeness.
nice work, hagcinth.

01-05-2009, 09:32 PM
I think I should just go nuts and lay waste to this entire field of weenies.

Beach Bunny
01-05-2009, 09:32 PM
This is a great installment. Well done, whoever. did. not. write. this. :)

01-05-2009, 09:34 PM

Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiice. :D

01-05-2009, 09:41 PM
I think I should just go nuts and lay waste to this entire field of weenies.

Right. Sure you will. *snicker* You and your plankton army, right?

01-05-2009, 09:42 PM
Right. Sure you will. *snicker* You and your plankton army, right?
Look at that! You spelled "plankton" right...

01-05-2009, 09:52 PM
Well, I AM a college student. Duh. I kin spel grate.

01-05-2009, 09:58 PM
It's about time Haggis.

And don't give me that crap about blaming RT. I like my avvie.

Beach Bunny
01-05-2009, 10:15 PM
Well, I AM a college student. Duh. I kin spel grate.
She also are a riter, she do gud gramer, two.

Ol' Fashioned Girl
01-05-2009, 11:19 PM
As the 32nd-great granddaughter of William the Conqueror, I protest the vicious misuse of my ancestor.

However... that said... since my part was bigger - and speaking! - this week, I shall forgive whoever.did.not.write.this.

01-05-2009, 11:27 PM
Pfft. I could at least make a cameo appearance in these stories.

I'm flouncing!!!

01-05-2009, 11:35 PM
She also are a riter, she do gud gramer, two.


01-05-2009, 11:43 PM
Pfft. I could at least make a cameo appearance in these stories.

you'll have to pm the author.

01-06-2009, 12:55 AM
Too bad no one actually writes this, it's another good chapter.

01-06-2009, 04:00 AM
Okay. I.Did.Write the featured questions. :D

You can't take all the credit...I wrote some of them.

Dude ... I am so going to dye your Q-tips orange....you just wait until after Susie kills Robiae. . .

Beach Bunny
01-06-2009, 05:17 AM
You can't take all the credit...I wrote some of them.

Dude ... I am so going to dye your Q-tips orange ....you just wait until after Susie kills Robiae. . .
I. don't. want. to. know. what. that. means.

01-06-2009, 06:07 AM
she's trying to make sense of jaycinth, the author of fajita sunrise. :roll:

01-06-2009, 07:59 AM
You can't take all the credit...I wrote some of them.

Dude ... I am so going to dye your Q-tips orange....you just wait until after Susie kills Robiae. . .

But I've been eating Cheetos. :(

01-07-2009, 04:37 AM
But I've been eating Cheetos. :(

Oh...you are SO asking for it.

You just wait...you just wait...

...there is ample evidence toward your collusion with the 27 or 28 writers who May.Or.May.Not.Have.Written.This.Stuff.

You just wait, chihuahua; there'll be no gold dust on your ears come St. Patty's Day when your obscure diversifications fail to imminatize!!!!!


01-07-2009, 04:58 AM
I. don't. want. to. know. what. that. means.

Are you sure????

Because I can explain it in disturbing 'Extreme Graphic Detail', if you'd like?

she's trying to make sense of jaycinth, the author of fajita sunrise.

You care to place a bet?