Topic: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...  (Read 15787 times)

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Offline Governor Ronjar

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My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« on: February 16, 2008, 09:43:35 pm »
Hi, all. I know I already have one story in the posting phase and am working on entirely new stuff, but I recently had a spell of pneumonia and a lot of drugs to battle it with. The Guv then went into writing over load. This happens when I am uber sick. Hope you will enjoy my drug induced visions of Trek.


Star Trek: Endeavour
‘Planet in Twilight’
CH. 1





In the command chair of the USS Endeavour, NCC-2007, Commander Davenport sat unmoving. Unblinking. Unbreathing. His brown eyes stared with the slightest confusion at the main viewing screen, which showed a panorama of mountains and majestic valleys. The sun of this world moved slowly right to left, casting ruddy shadow across the silent bridge.

The USS Endeavour sat atop a precipice. Unmoving. Unthinking. Incapable of action without the will of her crew. So she sat, and did nothing but creak under the weight of gravity pinning her down.

Lieutenant Noah Smith of Earth awoke amid a pile of flesh in darkness. He smelled the rot and decay of death long since rendered and scrambled to his feet in shock. Sparse lighting entered the cavern he found himself in. Mountains, valleys and a river lay beyond in the diffuse twilight. Smith staggered back from the half seen, half-imagined corpses piled high before and about him.

Where the hell was he?

The unsure communications officer’s last memory was of going to sickbay. Doctor Keller had prescribed him meds for his cold and asked him to stay a while for observation. He hadn’t thought the flu was that serious. Keller hadn’t wanted it to spread.
The young officer’s last memory was of bedding down on the soft blue matting of the Starfleet biobed…

Now he was here…

Where precisely was here?

Smith picked his way amid the tangle of limps and torsos and heads that made up his last sleeping surface. Bones crackled and broke underfoot. At least he’d gone to sleep with his socks on. The lieutenant wore only a leisurely undershirt and his trousers. No duty jacket or tunic. No boots. No underwear come to think of it…
Noah emerged into the dying light of a day ending and surveyed the vista before him. Were it not for the macabre pile behind him and the horrid stanch clinging to him, the lieutenant might be lulled into a peaceful repose for the beauty stretching out before him.
The fear of being lost, alone and unprepared, however, were a shock to his system. His survival training had not yet asserted itself. He would need time to cope and to adjust to all of this. The lad sat down, ignoring the stench wafting up from behind as the wind tickled him.

What was he to do?

Noah checked his waist. No tool belt. No communicator. No phaser. He was without technology. He looked himself over. Other than the crud in his throat and lungs, he felt fine. A bit winded perhaps. He looked about. Not many rocks shoed along the ground before him. Fine sandy dirt, pebbles and smoothed over rocks. A little grass. Walking wouldn’t be so bad. His socks might last the day. He thought about how to fashion wooden sandals…when he found wood, that is. He could see no trace of trees.

Grass slippers would do in a pinch, but he’d be making them quite often were he forced to remain for long. He was a large man, over six feet tall. And the grass before him looked not only sparse, but flimsy.

Deciding that he’d rather bed down for the night well away from the carrion behind him, the young man stood up and gathered his stamina for a jaunt. He did not want to see what animals would be drawn to that pile of cadavers anyway.

The going was slow but easy. The gentle slope of the land allowed him to spare his strength in reserve. He considered where to go. For the time being, he was simply walking forward. He thought about what he needed to survive.

Before him was a river. It seemed about three miles distant. He would not likely make it there before sundown given the depths at which the solar orb had already sank. Depending on how dark the night got, he might make it a bit after sundown. But did he want to spend the night beside a possible nocturnal watering hole? He was totally unarmed. He glanced about for sign of animals.

Nothing yet.

Noah looked back up to the river in the distance. The roll of the land offered him an unblocked view of it. He was now no more than a mile away. He could imagine hearing its faint trickle already. He hadn’t thought to make it so close before sundown.

Smith looked back to the star blazing subdued in the distance. It remained a thumb’s width from the horizon from his vantage. It had yet to move. The solar cycle here was much slower than most worlds…



Mister Smith reached the banks of the winding river. IT was wide and clean. He could see to the bottom out to the deep center where the glare of twilight reflected back in broken patches upon the moving water. Smith bent to scoop up a testing drink.

Potable. Fresh. The water was refreshing and earthy. It should do baring any unforeseen contaminants. He eased his aching body down onto the side of the bank and looked about him. The sun had yet to set. It remained right where he’d judged it earlier. Perhaps exactly in the same place…

Smith found himself watching it in reverie. He thought about unrelated things, such as the plainness of his surname. He thought of his friends aboard ship. He thought of the acting captain. Was Endeavour looking for him? Did they yet know he was missing? Were there gaps in his memory? Perhaps there was a reason for his being here? The lieutenant checked himself for head wound.

There was none.

He was fit, save for his cold. HE checked for fever. HE had none. Beyond the tickle of mucus in his lung and throat, he was on the mend. He tried to hack it up, spitting it away from the river. He bathed himself with hands full of cold water.

The sun had yet to set.
***
 


This tale proceeds more slowly in writing now that I am better. Am contemplating a couple of bottles of butterscotch schnapps to speed it back up... :D

gimme a holler...

--guv!
« Last Edit: February 16, 2008, 11:22:48 pm by Governor Ronjar »
'It's a lot of hard work being a mean bastard...' --Captain Eric Finlander, CO USS Bedford (The Bedford Incident)

'Jaken...are you pretending to be dead?' --Lord Sesshomaru, Inuyasha.

Offline Scottish Andy

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #1 on: February 16, 2008, 10:50:10 pm »
Okay, that was just durn weird. There's so little there with no real indication where it's going that I really can't say any more than that.

Your descriptive style is definitely improving though. I liked the use of "solar orb", among other things. The very disjointed nature of the tale gives the accurate impression that the people involved are feeling kinda disjointed themselves.

The inevitable grammar & spelling: "sir name" should be "surname".
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Offline Commander La'ra

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #2 on: February 17, 2008, 04:23:26 am »
Having read more of this, I can only cackle evilly knowing what the other readers are in for.
"Dialogue from a play, Hamlet to Horatio: 'There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.' Dialogue from a play written long before men took to the sky. There are more things in heaven and earth, and in the sky, than perhaps can be dreamt of. And somewhere in between heaven, the sky, the earth, lies the Twilight Zone."
                                                                 ---------Rod Serling, The Last Flight

Offline Governor Ronjar

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #3 on: February 18, 2008, 10:18:53 pm »

CH. 2





Noah Smith awoke on the river’s edge. The tinkle of its waters was a pleasant thing to awaken by. He looked about in the ruddy early morning light…

No…The sun was still a thumb’s breadth above the horizon and on the same side of the planet as before! But had it moved? He remembered it having been framed between those massive buttes three or four kilometers away…straight across the river.

Now the orb dully shone out from a place forty degrees to the left. It had left the buttes altogether and now stood above a flat plain of reddish brown soil.
Did this world’s rotation never take the sun beyond sight? It would be an oddity for sure and worthy of a visit by Federation starship were that the case.
Noah considered the silent star for some time, causing a dull round blot in his vision that quickly abated. HE looked across the river. He’d not seen the little boat approach. He hadn’t seen it or sensed the presence of the smiling man who stared back at him from the thin, canoe-like vessel.

Taken aback at suddenly finding himself not alone, the lieutenant gaped. This seemed to tickle the older gentleman and he gave the water a slap with his single oar. The boat turned and glided near.

“A new one, eh?”

“You speak standard?”

The grey haired, oddly dressed man chuckled and he allowed his boat’s prow to touch land. “No, but you speak the tongue of the land. Least that’s what they say. Everyone coming here gets conditioned. That’s what I hear.”

“There are others?”

The older man, he seemed almost human save for the cast of his eyes, nodded gently as though teaching a grandchild. “Oh, yes. Here and there. Them what wake up in the cave.”

“The cave full of—“

“The dead. Yup. That’s where the Caretaker puts us all that start out sick or dying when he collects us.”

“Caretaker?”

“Oh, he or it has lots of names. Collector. Jailer. I call him Caretaker. He seems a bit nicer than a Jailer.”

The old man’s dress was an assortment of unmatching garments. Some where bright, others dull. Some were crudely patched and sewn together. He was healthy. His teeth were reasonably bright.

“Are there animals here to worry about?” The lieutenant asked.

“Some. Not many to big. Just watch for ‘em. Not many places for ‘em to hide given the landscape.”

“What is there to eat?”

At this the old man smiled kindly. He reached down and produced a parcel wrapped in cleaner cloth than what he wore. He handed it over.

Noah hadn’t realized how hungry he’d been till he smelled the salty tang of baked fish. The dry meat crumbled in his hands as he unwrapped it and began to gobble it down. The old man smiled.

“You have been away from food for a while.”

Noah looked up a bit ashamed. Had this been the man’s only food? The elder smiled more. “Eat up boy, I have plenty.”

Noah nodded and continued to eat. His stomach was better, but in no way full. The stranger pointed about him to the waters. “I make my way by fishin’ and trappin’. I’d suggest similar to you. There’s game aplenty.”

When the lieutenant stared back without answer, the old man reached down and tossed him a bundle of white line. Something sharp pricked his palm. “There’s enough line to get ya started, son. The fish here just naturally come to a shiny lure. Make em from what metal ya can find. Dry the fish with fire or toast it. You’ll do fine.”

The older man shoved off with a push of his paddle and propelled his tiny boat in reverse a way. Noah looked up from the crumbs in his hands. “Wait…what’s your name?”

The old man paused, for the first time without a smile. He shook his head. “You know…I think I’ve forgot.”

The nameless old man paddled away, heading down the flow of the river. Smith watched him go. The old man apparently didn’t want prolonged company. But he’d been kind and helpful. So much work had been saved the boy with the gift of this line and lure.

Lieutenant Smith set to fishing.
***


--guv!!
'It's a lot of hard work being a mean bastard...' --Captain Eric Finlander, CO USS Bedford (The Bedford Incident)

'Jaken...are you pretending to be dead?' --Lord Sesshomaru, Inuyasha.

Offline Grim Reaper

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Offline Scottish Andy

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #5 on: February 19, 2008, 11:29:26 am »
Curiouser and curiouser.
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Offline Governor Ronjar

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #6 on: February 22, 2008, 06:34:49 pm »
 Some more wierdness fer y'all.



CH. 3





Three full orbits of the single star later found Noah Smith still fishing, still baking fish over a small fire, and still very much alone by the river. On this world there was no day, there was no night. No morning welcomed him back from sleep. Only the damned twilight kept him on the verge of a drowsy half-sleep.

The lieutenant today was sitting beside the quietly mumbling river, watching fish jump out in the middle as he caught their brothers at the bank. In part, Smith was waiting to see the boatman again. He wanted to learn more about this world before venturing into it. Also, he remained put due to the suspicion that there abounded no real reason to leave the river.

The boatman did come again, late that third day. He came down river against the gentle flow from the direction he’d disappeared in. Noah hailed him as he came close, and the man again patted the water and swung his boat aside to draw onto land. Today, though, he got out and stretched his long legs.

“So, young one. Still in the same spot…”

“Didn’t see much reason to leave it.” Smith explained.

The old man blinked and smiled as he scratched the stubble at his jaw. “Oh, boredom will give you reason soon enough. Believe me.”

“Not much happen here?”

The elder smiled and looked down at his mismatched boots and the smooth ground beneath them. “Not in this exact spot, no. That’s why you should get around.”

“I’m not so sure it’d be all that wise to leave.”

This made the fisher look up suddenly with curiosity. “Really, why?”

“If I leave the river, my ship might not be as able to find me from orbit.”

Now the old fisherman was laughing outright and slapping his pant leg. Dust blasted from his clothes, making the young blonde cough.

“No one’s going to be looking for you from orbit, son!”

Smith flushed with a sudden rise of anger.

“And why not?”

“Because your ship is already here! Don’t ya know that’s how it always works?”

“No, I don’t know how it works! I’m not from here!”

The old one seemed to consider that and then sobered. He circled the kid once and then looked down at his camp fire and the fish baking on a smooth rock.

“Alright, kid. Here’s how it goes around here… Your ship was snoopin’ around somewhere close by. Maybe not even in this solar body… The Caretaker saw ya’… He maybe liked your ship or your species, prob’ly your ship since your makeup is about like anybody else’s. He brings your ship here, puts it where he can look at it. But since you and maybe others on your ship was sick or dying…he tossed you in that cave to die…or live…or whatever.”

Noah could only gape. Endeavour had been here all this time? Where? How far away? What could he do?

“What about the rest of the crew?”

“They’re okay, I imagine. You won’t get much out of ‘em. They’ll be like statues.”

“Dead?”

“Don’t think so. The crews and passengers never seem to…decay or whatever. They don’t get old. But then…nothing here does.”

Smith calmed a bit with this knowledge.

“Nothing ages?”

“Nope.”

“No one dies?”

“Oh, sure. Folk die all the time…just not from getting’ old. Some get a disease. Some have accidents…a murder every now and again.”

“You said there weren’t many people here!”

“Only take two folk for a murder.”

Noah looked out onto the circular horizon about him and scoured it anew for anything familiar. He hoped to see anything…the bulge of the saucer’s casemate…a nacelle… anything. Nothing. He saw nothing.

“Where would she be?”

“Damned if I know. I don’t even know which yours looks like.”

“Have any come here in the last week?”

“Not to my knowin’.”

Noah stared with bald consternation at the man. The elder just stared back without helpful expression. He was still smiling. At length, he shrugged and sat down by the fire.

“Why don’t ya offer me some grub and we’ll think on it.”

Smith nodded almost unwillingly. He did owe the man a meal. And his clean clothe. This latter he gave to the man and filled his palms with baked fish.

The old man took a bite and sat up rail straight.

“Son! What did you put on this here fish!”

Noah pointed off to a sprig of dark green grass sprouting up from beneath a rock ten meters from the river bank. “I dried that and coursed it up.”

The old man looked out at it and then back to the fish.

“Huh… Adds a kind of spice! Never thought of usin’ grass to flavor my fish with.”

“It smelled like oregano.” Noah explained. He was pretty certain oregano looked nothing like that three bladed grass, though.

“Whatever that is, this is good, son!”

“Now, sir…” Smith looked out to the twilight again. “Which direction is the closest starship you know of… You implied there were a lot of them.”

The fisher nodded.

“Seen at least fifty in my life. Likely I’ll see more of ‘em.”

“Which way to the closest?”

The old man pointed down the river, in the direction he’d been paddling just minutes prior. “There’s the Buzzard just about three mountains that way.”

“The Buzzard?”

“Yeah… Should be the name of it. Big ol’ green thing with big bird’s wings and a long, buzzard neck on it. Even has feet.”

Noah could only thing of one design of craft fitting such a general description. He suddenly smiled. “How far away did you say?”

“Three mountains. I pass by three mountains to get to it from here.”

Noah looked up and studied the terrain following the length of the river. He could make out two mountains easily. A third might have been obscured in the distance by the bulk of the second. “About… fifty, maybe eighty kilometers.”

“Kilo-whats?”

“How long by boat?”

“Half a day easy paddle. No stoppin’, though.”

“Will you take me there?”

The old man laughed and stood up from the fireside. He finished his meal and returned his cloth to his rough pocket. “I’ll take you so far as the water’s edge, but that’s as far as any sane man goes.”

“Why is that?”

“Remember I said murder was one of the plenty of ways folk can die round here?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, the troll what lives there is special keen on murderin’.”
 


--thu guv!
'It's a lot of hard work being a mean bastard...' --Captain Eric Finlander, CO USS Bedford (The Bedford Incident)

'Jaken...are you pretending to be dead?' --Lord Sesshomaru, Inuyasha.

Offline Scottish Andy

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #7 on: February 23, 2008, 11:04:10 pm »
Man, that sure is cryptic. Love it, though. That old man describing stuff he's never seen before and relating it only in the way he's familiar with. Sounds like a Melak-class ship (though I'm not sure about the feet) or it may be that FASA Rom ship that was included in 'Star Trek: Legacy' which does look like a mechanical ship, buty I always thought it was brown. And the troll that murders people... I know you don't like Roms, Giv, but wouldn't it have been more accurate to describe him as an elf?  :huh:

Looking forward to more of this!
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Offline Governor Ronjar

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #8 on: February 24, 2008, 09:06:35 pm »
*slaps forehead as Andy misses the obvious...*

--guv
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Offline Scottish Andy

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #9 on: February 25, 2008, 09:00:16 am »
Hey, you said green! Green is Rom-coloured! Klinks are grey, specially the D7s!! *grumbles*
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Offline Hstaphath_XC

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #10 on: February 26, 2008, 02:41:48 pm »
Hey, you said green! Green is Rom-coloured! Klinks are grey, specially the D7s!! *grumbles*

Wow... how long has it been since you've watched, for instance, Star Trek IV, V, or VI?   ;)
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Offline Scottish Andy

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #11 on: February 26, 2008, 02:59:48 pm »
*mutters* Kronos-One was light grey...
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Offline Hstaphath_XC

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #12 on: February 26, 2008, 03:10:15 pm »
*mutters* Kronos-One was light grey...

Yoda:  (waving his hand at Andy)  Cloudy, your mind has become... let go this obsession with the D-7's, you must...
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Offline Scottish Andy

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #13 on: February 26, 2008, 04:16:28 pm »
*waves back at Yoda, using the traditional 1-finger salute*  :D
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Offline marstone

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #14 on: February 26, 2008, 04:23:03 pm »
I'm with Andy on this one.  Gray is Klingon, always will be.  It only got changed because of a script change the movie when the plot line got out that the enemy was to be Romulan, so they changed it to Klingon, but the special effect shots were already done.  Thus is why the Klingons are flying Romulan style ships now.
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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #15 on: February 26, 2008, 09:10:46 pm »
*waves back at Yoda, using the traditional 1-finger salute*


Touch this, you can not!


... Gray is Klingon, always will be...


IIRC, the D-7's in Star Trek the Motion Picture were blue and green.  I know the story behind the script change in ST:III, but whether I agree with it or not the ships became canon for Klinks.   :P

The FASA take on it was that the Klinks got the Rom scout ships as part of the tech exchange that got the Roms those old D-7s.
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Offline marstone

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #16 on: February 26, 2008, 10:40:13 pm »

IIRC, the D-7's in Star Trek the Motion Picture were blue and green.  I know the story behind the script change in ST:III, but whether I agree with it or not the ships became canon for Klinks.   :P

The FASA take on it was that the Klinks got the Rom scout ships as part of the tech exchange that got the Roms those old D-7s.

Quite possible, as an old SFB player, I live in the era of TOS.  The problem with a Klingon Bird of pray is that (even tho they were to cheap to redo the CGI shots), the Klingon Empire would have repainted the ships they got from the Romulans to match their own fleet.  It is sad, I believe that as the movies and newer TV episodes came out, that they didn't really keep track of the material they were putting out to make sure it matched.  They were worried more about getting it out in budget.  (watch TNG and see how many times you see the mind control spheres that were used against Picard by the Ferrengi.  That little device shows up as part of different ship systems and such a bit.  Just as a simple example (if they are to cheap to make a small item like that, they definetely wouldn't do a retake on a CGI shot that was off).
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Offline Governor Ronjar

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #17 on: February 26, 2008, 11:09:20 pm »
*wonders how some discussions come about... Sadly eyes all the comments above with the exception of Hsta's...*

The idea that the ST:III BoP came from the Roms is not canon. No onscreen reference whatsoever for that. I mistakenly supported the idea for a while, but once the old-style BoP appeared on Enterprise [which was also green, as were the D-5 cruisers], I cast this idea aside in my new writing efforts and have since editted older files. While I do not like green ships at all, Romulan, Klingon or whose ever, I also have to admit that the Klingon BoP, at least...would not look quite right any other color.

The vessel in question in this tale is indeed a B'rel-Class Bird of Prey with its landing struts down.

Has anyone got anything to say about the f*cked-upedness of this tale, or shall it de-evolve once more into a canon discussion. *hates canon discussions...*

--thu guv

...and to further aggravate Andy, just because I can and he lives in Canadia-land and is therefor too far away to hit me...

For a Green D-7 refer to DS9 'Trials and Tribbulations' and for green K't'ingas, refer to several battle scenes involving Klingons from Season 4 DS9 on...
Blah!
'It's a lot of hard work being a mean bastard...' --Captain Eric Finlander, CO USS Bedford (The Bedford Incident)

'Jaken...are you pretending to be dead?' --Lord Sesshomaru, Inuyasha.

Offline marstone

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #18 on: February 26, 2008, 11:56:17 pm »
Has anyone got anything to say about the f*cked-upedness of this tale, or shall it de-evolve once more into a canon discussion. *hates canon discussions...*

Will agree canon sucks.  A nasty segway on the comment of a gray D7.
The smell of printer ink in the morning,
Tis the smell of programming.

Offline Hstaphath_XC

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Re: My pneumonia/Drug-Induced Story...
« Reply #19 on: February 26, 2008, 11:57:34 pm »
Bugger!  I about jumped out of my chair thinking you had posted Chapter 4.

wonders how some discussions come about...

*cough*Andy*cough*  ::)

Has anyone got anything to say about the f*cked-upedness of this tale...

Well, it certainly has my interest.  There have been a few very surreal storylines on the board of late (yeah, Kadh and Rommie, I'm lookin' at you!) so that in itself isn't really getting the shock value it normally would.  What has my attention is your exceptional storytelling.  Also, the fact that I currently am coming down with a nasty chest cold in no way has me biased in identifying with Lt. Smith.   :D
Hilaritas sapientiae et bonae vitae proles.