It was a dark and stormy night.....
- Thread starter Pam
- Start date
iluvorlando
<font color=green>Queen of DIS dorks<br><font colo
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OMG!! Pam and Willy! You are hilarious!! Keep it coming!!
WillyJ
<font color=purple>NyQuil Aficionado<br><font colo
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- Apr 23, 2000
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I should have stayed in LA. . .
After barely escaping a reunion with my dear sister; one with me in leg irons and her with another high-profile collar on her resume, me and the Doll blew into LA on the Zephyr and had a couple nice days playing like tourists.
We went to beach; jitterbugged down at one of them fancy-shmancy clubs in Hollywood. . even bought her a malted at the drugstore where that one movie star dame was discovered; Shirley Temple or one of them, I don't know for sure, I don't keep up with that movie stuff. . .
Anyways, we was having us a high old time, but then I made a little error in judgment. A business associate of mine ran a little gambling joint on a boat off the coast near Long Beach, and since my luck had been running good lately I figured it would be a hoot to head out there and throw the bones a little and relieve them of some dough.
Well, it was just one of them nights when Lady Luck was making time with some other mug besides your truly, and before I knew it, not only I had blown the cash we'd borrowed from the Doll's folks, but I was into my associates for another stack of Benjamin's I had no immediate way of paying back. After some harsh words, I was given 24 hours to come up with the jack, and these guys ain't the type that send you a nice letter when you're late on your payment, if you get my drift.
I was in a jam for sure; but then I remembered this wise-guy back in Vegas who was a big fan of that Marylyn Monroe dame, and a couple phone calls helped decide what I had to do; I boosted a hot little coupe, drove back up to Hollywood to that Greatman's Chinese movie theater, and I pried the piece of concrete out from the sidewalk that had Marilyn Monroe's name and handprints on it. (What the heck? They had plenty of other ones there.) And me and the Doll headed back to Vegas. . .
We rolled into Vegas no problem; but my gut was telling me something wasn't right. . . I should have listened to it, but unless I wanted to be throwing the dice with a couple less thumbs in the future, I wasn't exactly in a position to be too cautious, if you know what I mean. We pulled up around the back of the Stardust casino, which is this grind joint my friend ran with some help from The Boys from Chicago. . . and while the Doll waited in the coupe, I lugged the concrete down the stairs and into the basement.
Everything was the bees-knees at first- my friend was happy with my "find" and came across with the dough lickety-split, smooth as silk. . he even broke out the good hooch and we had a drink or three. Then he introduces to a couple crooners who was entertaining the tourists in the lounge; Frank and Sammy I think their names were. . . skinny little mugs, one black, one white; but nice enough joes for show business people. I was finishing up my highball and getting ready to go, thinking I had it made in the shade, when all of a sudden, all heck broke loose!!
First, the door to the room bursts open, and this blonde dame comes chargin in. . . at first I thought it was showgirl, then I thought it was that Uncle Miltie from the TV doing his Carmen Maranda schtic live and in person . but then I noticed the dame was a dame, and she was holding up a piece of tin and a heater and yelling about everyone being under arrest, and it dawned on me this my very own precious sister, there to make sure yours truly would be breaking rocks for the next few Thanksgivings. . .
And that's what would have happened too. . . except in the next instant in through the door come this other guy wearing bad shoes and a funny hat, and yelling that he was a fed and it was his bust. . . my sis turns to look, and that's when I got the break I needed. This Frank guy pushes this Sammy guy and makes a break for the door, and this Sammy guy knocks into my sis the flatfoot, and I swear to you, when they collided, his eyeball falls out!!
I guess it was a fake or something, because it rolls across the floor and the fed guy steps on it, falls on his kiester, and it knocks him out cold! Then my sis pushes this Sammy guy out the way. . the poor mug is crawling around looking for his eye. . and she starts coming at me; but then, these cantaloupes fall out her dress, and she slips on them and she's on the floor and she's out!! There was bodies everwhere, and fruit and eyeballs rolling around. . .it was like something straight out'a one of them Larry and Hardy pictures!
My head wasn't exactly processing everything too fast on account of the hooch, but my feet were sober and they started moving. I raced out with my cash and hopped in the coupe with the Doll and we roared out of there. . me thanking my lucky stars, and she wondering why I was handing her a wad of dough, a cantaloupe, and a glass eyeball (Yeah, I picked it up- figure I can hock it for something back in New York. . )
Anyways, I figured my associates back in LA wouldn't be missing any meals if I was late on my payment, and I could smooth any beef out once things settled down. . and besides, the temperature in the West was a little hotter then I liked, and I knew once my sis came too and figured out what happened, it was gonna get hotter, so the Doll and I ditched the coup and jumped a train heading back East. .
After barely escaping a reunion with my dear sister; one with me in leg irons and her with another high-profile collar on her resume, me and the Doll blew into LA on the Zephyr and had a couple nice days playing like tourists.
We went to beach; jitterbugged down at one of them fancy-shmancy clubs in Hollywood. . even bought her a malted at the drugstore where that one movie star dame was discovered; Shirley Temple or one of them, I don't know for sure, I don't keep up with that movie stuff. . .
Anyways, we was having us a high old time, but then I made a little error in judgment. A business associate of mine ran a little gambling joint on a boat off the coast near Long Beach, and since my luck had been running good lately I figured it would be a hoot to head out there and throw the bones a little and relieve them of some dough.
Well, it was just one of them nights when Lady Luck was making time with some other mug besides your truly, and before I knew it, not only I had blown the cash we'd borrowed from the Doll's folks, but I was into my associates for another stack of Benjamin's I had no immediate way of paying back. After some harsh words, I was given 24 hours to come up with the jack, and these guys ain't the type that send you a nice letter when you're late on your payment, if you get my drift.
I was in a jam for sure; but then I remembered this wise-guy back in Vegas who was a big fan of that Marylyn Monroe dame, and a couple phone calls helped decide what I had to do; I boosted a hot little coupe, drove back up to Hollywood to that Greatman's Chinese movie theater, and I pried the piece of concrete out from the sidewalk that had Marilyn Monroe's name and handprints on it. (What the heck? They had plenty of other ones there.) And me and the Doll headed back to Vegas. . .
We rolled into Vegas no problem; but my gut was telling me something wasn't right. . . I should have listened to it, but unless I wanted to be throwing the dice with a couple less thumbs in the future, I wasn't exactly in a position to be too cautious, if you know what I mean. We pulled up around the back of the Stardust casino, which is this grind joint my friend ran with some help from The Boys from Chicago. . . and while the Doll waited in the coupe, I lugged the concrete down the stairs and into the basement.
Everything was the bees-knees at first- my friend was happy with my "find" and came across with the dough lickety-split, smooth as silk. . he even broke out the good hooch and we had a drink or three. Then he introduces to a couple crooners who was entertaining the tourists in the lounge; Frank and Sammy I think their names were. . . skinny little mugs, one black, one white; but nice enough joes for show business people. I was finishing up my highball and getting ready to go, thinking I had it made in the shade, when all of a sudden, all heck broke loose!!
First, the door to the room bursts open, and this blonde dame comes chargin in. . . at first I thought it was showgirl, then I thought it was that Uncle Miltie from the TV doing his Carmen Maranda schtic live and in person . but then I noticed the dame was a dame, and she was holding up a piece of tin and a heater and yelling about everyone being under arrest, and it dawned on me this my very own precious sister, there to make sure yours truly would be breaking rocks for the next few Thanksgivings. . .
And that's what would have happened too. . . except in the next instant in through the door come this other guy wearing bad shoes and a funny hat, and yelling that he was a fed and it was his bust. . . my sis turns to look, and that's when I got the break I needed. This Frank guy pushes this Sammy guy and makes a break for the door, and this Sammy guy knocks into my sis the flatfoot, and I swear to you, when they collided, his eyeball falls out!!
I guess it was a fake or something, because it rolls across the floor and the fed guy steps on it, falls on his kiester, and it knocks him out cold! Then my sis pushes this Sammy guy out the way. . the poor mug is crawling around looking for his eye. . and she starts coming at me; but then, these cantaloupes fall out her dress, and she slips on them and she's on the floor and she's out!! There was bodies everwhere, and fruit and eyeballs rolling around. . .it was like something straight out'a one of them Larry and Hardy pictures!
My head wasn't exactly processing everything too fast on account of the hooch, but my feet were sober and they started moving. I raced out with my cash and hopped in the coupe with the Doll and we roared out of there. . me thanking my lucky stars, and she wondering why I was handing her a wad of dough, a cantaloupe, and a glass eyeball (Yeah, I picked it up- figure I can hock it for something back in New York. . )
Anyways, I figured my associates back in LA wouldn't be missing any meals if I was late on my payment, and I could smooth any beef out once things settled down. . and besides, the temperature in the West was a little hotter then I liked, and I knew once my sis came too and figured out what happened, it was gonna get hotter, so the Doll and I ditched the coup and jumped a train heading back East. .
It was the &%$(*#@&!! melons that did me in! If I had just stuck to oranges or tangerines, I would have been ok. But, nooooooo, I was going for the Mae West look and all I ended up with was a fruit salad......
Frank babeeee woke me from my unconscious state by performing a tonsillectomy on me with his tongue. Poor Sammy was crawling around looking for his eye. Embarrassed, I averted my eyes, both of them.
I joined up off the floor and proceeded to slug the Federal man, "Zurg" in the chops. I don't take too kindly to having someone mess up my bust. Plus, I noticed that he had stolen one of my platform pumps......... I handcuffed them all to the water pipe and blew out of town.
Oh WillyJ is a slippery little bugger. Talking about "Back East" as though he were heading for Philly. I knew better. I hopped a train and made a pit stop in Chicago, I shook down some of Capone's goons for info. Seems WillyJ and his dame, Maggie Malone had been there just ahead of me....... and WillyJ broke into Al Capone's vaults and stole everything. He then sealed up the vault and said it would be hilarious if someone discovered it years later and made a big media deal about it.
I rolled into NYC a couple of days later. I checked in the with Sarge and cleaned out my desk. Suddenly the Sarge wasn't amendable to my spending so much time on this particular case. I kept my badge and side arm and dared him to try and take them away from me. One look in my eyes and he backed down, way down..... WillyJ isn't the only one in the family who can play hardball.
I hitched a ride on one of those newfangled planes to London. On the flight over I mused what it was that dames like Maggie saw in my errant brother. I guess you could say he was handsome, in a rakish kind of way. The scar above his right eyebrow was from coming in contact with the wrong side of a pair of brass knuckles, the scar on his back was from an irate husband who was brandishing a knife, and the bullet still lodged in his leg was from Bugsy and his pals. The slight limp just endeared him all the more to the ladies.....
I landed at Heathrow Airport and was assigned a partner from Scotland Yard. His name was Inspector Cloissure. (ok, I know I completely murdered spelling that name - so just live with it!) Word on the British street was that WillyJ was living large with his doll and spending money as though there was no tomorrow. If Capone's thugs ever caught up to him, he'd be wearing some very nice concrete shoes and swimming in the Thames.
The Inspector and I booked passage on a new high speed train to the Far East. Yes, that was WillyJ and Maggie's ultimate destination. We got our boarding passes and entered the train, "The Orient Express." I insisted on separate cabins. I was still pining for the Sarge.
I met a writer on the train, her name was Agatha Christie. Adventure seemed to follow her wherever she went. I told her that she needed to write a book about all of her many exploits. We became great friends and entertained each other for hours and the train traveled down the tracks.
The Inspector reported back to me that WillyJ and Maggie were also on board. What luck - I hadn't expected this! We hurriedly made our way down the train corridor, guns in hand. I was so close to making the bust, I could almost taste the victory.
And then it happened, the train went through a long tunnel, pitching the entire train into darkness. Shots rang out, a woman began screaming and then mayhem broke loose....... We were still in the tunnel and couldn't find our way. What had happened? And more importantly, had WillyJ been shot or was he the one doing the shooting?
Pam
Frank babeeee woke me from my unconscious state by performing a tonsillectomy on me with his tongue. Poor Sammy was crawling around looking for his eye. Embarrassed, I averted my eyes, both of them.
I joined up off the floor and proceeded to slug the Federal man, "Zurg" in the chops. I don't take too kindly to having someone mess up my bust. Plus, I noticed that he had stolen one of my platform pumps......... I handcuffed them all to the water pipe and blew out of town.
Oh WillyJ is a slippery little bugger. Talking about "Back East" as though he were heading for Philly. I knew better. I hopped a train and made a pit stop in Chicago, I shook down some of Capone's goons for info. Seems WillyJ and his dame, Maggie Malone had been there just ahead of me....... and WillyJ broke into Al Capone's vaults and stole everything. He then sealed up the vault and said it would be hilarious if someone discovered it years later and made a big media deal about it.
I rolled into NYC a couple of days later. I checked in the with Sarge and cleaned out my desk. Suddenly the Sarge wasn't amendable to my spending so much time on this particular case. I kept my badge and side arm and dared him to try and take them away from me. One look in my eyes and he backed down, way down..... WillyJ isn't the only one in the family who can play hardball.
I hitched a ride on one of those newfangled planes to London. On the flight over I mused what it was that dames like Maggie saw in my errant brother. I guess you could say he was handsome, in a rakish kind of way. The scar above his right eyebrow was from coming in contact with the wrong side of a pair of brass knuckles, the scar on his back was from an irate husband who was brandishing a knife, and the bullet still lodged in his leg was from Bugsy and his pals. The slight limp just endeared him all the more to the ladies.....
I landed at Heathrow Airport and was assigned a partner from Scotland Yard. His name was Inspector Cloissure. (ok, I know I completely murdered spelling that name - so just live with it!) Word on the British street was that WillyJ was living large with his doll and spending money as though there was no tomorrow. If Capone's thugs ever caught up to him, he'd be wearing some very nice concrete shoes and swimming in the Thames.
The Inspector and I booked passage on a new high speed train to the Far East. Yes, that was WillyJ and Maggie's ultimate destination. We got our boarding passes and entered the train, "The Orient Express." I insisted on separate cabins. I was still pining for the Sarge.
I met a writer on the train, her name was Agatha Christie. Adventure seemed to follow her wherever she went. I told her that she needed to write a book about all of her many exploits. We became great friends and entertained each other for hours and the train traveled down the tracks.
The Inspector reported back to me that WillyJ and Maggie were also on board. What luck - I hadn't expected this! We hurriedly made our way down the train corridor, guns in hand. I was so close to making the bust, I could almost taste the victory.
And then it happened, the train went through a long tunnel, pitching the entire train into darkness. Shots rang out, a woman began screaming and then mayhem broke loose....... We were still in the tunnel and couldn't find our way. What had happened? And more importantly, had WillyJ been shot or was he the one doing the shooting?
Pam
newmousecateer
Babcia Extraordinaire/B-Elder YaYa
- Joined
- Sep 5, 2001
- Messages
- 5,575
ROFLMAO!
iluvorlando
<font color=green>Queen of DIS dorks<br><font colo
- Joined
- Jan 17, 2002
- Messages
- 2,565
Weeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeee waiting!!
/
WillyJ
<font color=purple>NyQuil Aficionado<br><font colo
- Joined
- Apr 23, 2000
- Messages
- 3,951
Geeezzeee. . this just hasn't been my life!!
Ain't it weird how one day you're on top of the world, and the next the world's on top of you?
Things was going my way until I made the mistake of reaching out to my dear, estranged sister. . . I just was gonna touch base, have a couple belts of whiskey, maybe exchange a little info for a favor or two. . Then the next thing I know she's clubbing a dime-store Santa; I'm racing all over heck and back with half the wiseguys in the country looking to air-condition my gullet; and she's sticking to me like a melted piece of Jucyfruit on your shoe, trying to make sure yours truly spends the next several years sending Christmas cards from the Cross Bar Hotel just so she can get her name in the papers. And now I'm relating this here narration to youse mugs standing up, because my own sweetheart blasted me in the tookus with my own piece!!!
It was bad enough in Vegas and LA; it took a few hours and more then a couple belts of hooch in the bar car of the train to calm my jangled nerves. . and then I dozed off and woke up screaming about giant eyeballs and pieces of fruit chasing me! It was no skin off my nose, but the Doll was kind embarrassed about it.
But I digest; the train ride was long and pretty boring to tell ya the truth, but it did give me time to calm down and rethink things. Between my sister and the boys in LA, I knew the heat was gonna be bad for awhile even in Philly, and I got to thinking maybe it was time to take an extended vacation.. . the Doll had been bugging me about going a broad (that means taking a trip to Europe; get yer minds out of the gutter ya mugs!!) She wanted to see that thing Nat "King" Cole painted, the "Moaning Lisa", in Paris, and look up some joe named "Big Ben" in London- (I guess he's a big-shot and a relative or something, I don't know) and up to then I wasn't to keen on the idea. . but all of sudden it seemed like a good idea. Plus I gotta admit I'd heard about that "Dames River" and wanted to check that out for myself. .
I laid the new plan out to the Doll and she was all excited; even got me a few big smooches out of the deal, so when the train chugged into Chicago I switched our tickets from Philly to New York- we could catch a ship out from there. (The Doll wanted to fly over, but that ain't for me. . I figure if the man upstairs wanted us to fly, He'd of stapled wings to our hind-ends.) We had a few hours before our train left, and I knew I'd need all the dough I could get for the trip, so I looked up an old associate of mine. .
His name was Dan "The Camera" Murphy. . he was hooked up with the Capone boys and cooked the books for their shy action. I found him down at the OTB losing his jack on the ponies, but he was definitely interested in Sammy's glass eye- guess he figured Big Al would get a kick out of it and he'd score some juice by giving it to him as a present. . but he was tapped out and we had to catch a hack down to his office so he could get the dough. Well, we get down there, and he goes out back through an alley and into this door. . I'm standing having a smoke, minding my own Ps and Qs, but I couldn't help notice that he was in some kind of vault, and there was more cash and other goodies in that thing then I'd ever seen in my life!! So I get the dough, say "so long", and then the Doll and I circled back around. .
Okay, so maybe I "borrowed" some of it, but it wasn't my fault! "The Camera" didn't lock the door tight. . . didn't take me more then 20 minutes to jimmy it open as a matter of fact. . . and because I was looking out for Mr. Capones interests, I went down and got some bricks and concrete, and me and the Doll sealed the door up. . so really, them guys should thank me!
Anyways, we get out of Chi Town, get to New York, and have an easy cruise across the Atlantic. Me and the Doll lived it up for a few days. . "Big Ben" turned out to be some big clock, and the only dames I saw by the river had bad teeth, but it was a good time just the same. . . but then I notice this Frenchy mug kept turning up every place we went! You couldn't miss the guy; he kept falling and breaking things all the time. I wasn't sure, but my gut told he was some kind of heat, so I convinced the Doll maybe we should skip Paris and catch a train to the Orient. I don't know much about that place, but I figured at least no flatfoots or wiseguys would be tailing us there. . .
So we get on the train. . it was pretty classy. I settled into the bar car but I had to leave because their was this loony broad there all the time jacked up on hooch and telling these boring stories about "10 Little Indians" and all kinds of weird stuff. . . So I went back to me and the Doll's private cabin. . and the next thing I know she's busting my chops and crying because I wouldn't take her to see the Moaning Lisa! Like I needed that grief! But she's a good gal, so instead of getting upset I turned on the old charm and sweet talked her; she calmed right down and by the time went into the tunnel and the lights went out, she was giving my one of those great smooches. . .
She had her arms around me, and just when things was getting interesting. . there's this commotion outside in the hallway. . . So I jerked around; and the Doll's hand slipped down and hit the heater I had tucked in the back waistband of my pants. . and BLAM!!! It goes off and I got a bullet in my keister!! I yelped, she screamed, people on the train started screaming . . and then the train starts slowing down. I grabbed the Doll figuring maybe it was time we see about making other travel arrangements. . and we clawed our way through the dark and headed to the front of the train. . .
Just as the train was almost stopped, we come out of the tunnel. . so I look back and what do I see?? None other then my dear sister!! She has the Frenchy guy handcuffed to one of the porters, and she's on top of the story-telling dame pounding her with a night stick and yelling, "I got you now you slime ball! I'll be eating turkey at ma's next year, not you!"
It was too much for me. . I grabbed the Doll's hand, yanked open an outside door, and jumped. . and the next thing I know, the Doll and I are in the drink and we're swimming for our lives!
Seems like the train was in Venice, Italy. . . we made it to shore, found a cheap inn, and for the moment we're okay.. . but I got still got this bullet in my kiester and I know my dear sister is out there somewhere, just itching to slap the irons on your's truly.. so now I gotta come up with a plan. .
I know one thing; I ain't never seen a dame so worked up about not being invited over for a turkey dinner!
Ain't it weird how one day you're on top of the world, and the next the world's on top of you?
Things was going my way until I made the mistake of reaching out to my dear, estranged sister. . . I just was gonna touch base, have a couple belts of whiskey, maybe exchange a little info for a favor or two. . Then the next thing I know she's clubbing a dime-store Santa; I'm racing all over heck and back with half the wiseguys in the country looking to air-condition my gullet; and she's sticking to me like a melted piece of Jucyfruit on your shoe, trying to make sure yours truly spends the next several years sending Christmas cards from the Cross Bar Hotel just so she can get her name in the papers. And now I'm relating this here narration to youse mugs standing up, because my own sweetheart blasted me in the tookus with my own piece!!!
It was bad enough in Vegas and LA; it took a few hours and more then a couple belts of hooch in the bar car of the train to calm my jangled nerves. . and then I dozed off and woke up screaming about giant eyeballs and pieces of fruit chasing me! It was no skin off my nose, but the Doll was kind embarrassed about it.
But I digest; the train ride was long and pretty boring to tell ya the truth, but it did give me time to calm down and rethink things. Between my sister and the boys in LA, I knew the heat was gonna be bad for awhile even in Philly, and I got to thinking maybe it was time to take an extended vacation.. . the Doll had been bugging me about going a broad (that means taking a trip to Europe; get yer minds out of the gutter ya mugs!!) She wanted to see that thing Nat "King" Cole painted, the "Moaning Lisa", in Paris, and look up some joe named "Big Ben" in London- (I guess he's a big-shot and a relative or something, I don't know) and up to then I wasn't to keen on the idea. . but all of sudden it seemed like a good idea. Plus I gotta admit I'd heard about that "Dames River" and wanted to check that out for myself. .
I laid the new plan out to the Doll and she was all excited; even got me a few big smooches out of the deal, so when the train chugged into Chicago I switched our tickets from Philly to New York- we could catch a ship out from there. (The Doll wanted to fly over, but that ain't for me. . I figure if the man upstairs wanted us to fly, He'd of stapled wings to our hind-ends.) We had a few hours before our train left, and I knew I'd need all the dough I could get for the trip, so I looked up an old associate of mine. .
His name was Dan "The Camera" Murphy. . he was hooked up with the Capone boys and cooked the books for their shy action. I found him down at the OTB losing his jack on the ponies, but he was definitely interested in Sammy's glass eye- guess he figured Big Al would get a kick out of it and he'd score some juice by giving it to him as a present. . but he was tapped out and we had to catch a hack down to his office so he could get the dough. Well, we get down there, and he goes out back through an alley and into this door. . I'm standing having a smoke, minding my own Ps and Qs, but I couldn't help notice that he was in some kind of vault, and there was more cash and other goodies in that thing then I'd ever seen in my life!! So I get the dough, say "so long", and then the Doll and I circled back around. .
Okay, so maybe I "borrowed" some of it, but it wasn't my fault! "The Camera" didn't lock the door tight. . . didn't take me more then 20 minutes to jimmy it open as a matter of fact. . . and because I was looking out for Mr. Capones interests, I went down and got some bricks and concrete, and me and the Doll sealed the door up. . so really, them guys should thank me!
Anyways, we get out of Chi Town, get to New York, and have an easy cruise across the Atlantic. Me and the Doll lived it up for a few days. . "Big Ben" turned out to be some big clock, and the only dames I saw by the river had bad teeth, but it was a good time just the same. . . but then I notice this Frenchy mug kept turning up every place we went! You couldn't miss the guy; he kept falling and breaking things all the time. I wasn't sure, but my gut told he was some kind of heat, so I convinced the Doll maybe we should skip Paris and catch a train to the Orient. I don't know much about that place, but I figured at least no flatfoots or wiseguys would be tailing us there. . .
So we get on the train. . it was pretty classy. I settled into the bar car but I had to leave because their was this loony broad there all the time jacked up on hooch and telling these boring stories about "10 Little Indians" and all kinds of weird stuff. . . So I went back to me and the Doll's private cabin. . and the next thing I know she's busting my chops and crying because I wouldn't take her to see the Moaning Lisa! Like I needed that grief! But she's a good gal, so instead of getting upset I turned on the old charm and sweet talked her; she calmed right down and by the time went into the tunnel and the lights went out, she was giving my one of those great smooches. . .
She had her arms around me, and just when things was getting interesting. . there's this commotion outside in the hallway. . . So I jerked around; and the Doll's hand slipped down and hit the heater I had tucked in the back waistband of my pants. . and BLAM!!! It goes off and I got a bullet in my keister!! I yelped, she screamed, people on the train started screaming . . and then the train starts slowing down. I grabbed the Doll figuring maybe it was time we see about making other travel arrangements. . and we clawed our way through the dark and headed to the front of the train. . .
Just as the train was almost stopped, we come out of the tunnel. . so I look back and what do I see?? None other then my dear sister!! She has the Frenchy guy handcuffed to one of the porters, and she's on top of the story-telling dame pounding her with a night stick and yelling, "I got you now you slime ball! I'll be eating turkey at ma's next year, not you!"
It was too much for me. . I grabbed the Doll's hand, yanked open an outside door, and jumped. . and the next thing I know, the Doll and I are in the drink and we're swimming for our lives!
Seems like the train was in Venice, Italy. . . we made it to shore, found a cheap inn, and for the moment we're okay.. . but I got still got this bullet in my kiester and I know my dear sister is out there somewhere, just itching to slap the irons on your's truly.. so now I gotta come up with a plan. .
I know one thing; I ain't never seen a dame so worked up about not being invited over for a turkey dinner!
newmousecateer
Babcia Extraordinaire/B-Elder YaYa
- Joined
- Sep 5, 2001
- Messages
- 5,575
- Joined
- Dec 15, 1998
- Messages
- 27,075
Okay, I have a small complaint here.... I just found this thread, and I'm annoying my fellow employees with loud bursts of laughter.... they just don't understand... and how can I tell them it's the DIS, and two DISers in particular!! 
Mouseteacher
<font color=9999FF>Being tagged makes you feel war
- Joined
- Oct 20, 2002
- Messages
- 3,839
APPLAUSE APPLAUSE APPLAUSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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New Fantasmic! Merch Now at Disney's Hollywood Studios
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Disney Store's New EST. 1987 Merchandise Collection
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The Prince of Darkness at Disney World: RIP, Ozzy
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