6:14
6:14
“So,” the beaver said lightly. “You handled that in an interesting way. Is that a standard tool-kit item for you, or did you come up with that on the fly?”
Edward, in a slightly smug tone, simply said, “Oh, I have my ways.”
“Yes, yes, I realize that, of course. After all, I have known you, or at least known of you, for a long long time now. You and your ’ways’ are rather famous, aren’t they? Still, I thought I detected something ’personal’, shall we say, in the way you dealt with the driver. Rather ingenious is the way it struck me, actually.
“And that final bit. By the side of the road. A wee bit o’ genius. Almost worthy of me…”
“Almost worthy of you?” Edward sputtered. “That was a result of a finely honed intellect, pure and simple. That kind of enlightenment doesn’t come to every creature. It takes a special mind and dedication to the way, let me tell you. Oh, I’ll admit you are devious in your own ’way’, but with the flipping and flopping of your mental processes, it simply astounds me you haven’t been made into a hat eons ago. Why, I recall one young fox kit that frankly reminds me a lot of you. The trouble with him was he found more pleasure in flouncing and flitting around than in the serious matter of setting and attaining goals. After all, it’s about the goals, the goals and the accomplishment thereof …
“Mark my words, young beaver,” Edward pronounced as he turned his head to ensure the beaver would catch the significance of what he was about to say. ”Mark my …
“Oh, crap …”
6:13
6:13
The beaver sighed and tried again. In a calmer tone he continued. “Look, I’ve … we’ve … had a hard day. How about we put whatever you’ve got rattling around that brain of yours on hold and we take it up on a more auspicious occasion. I’ve got aches where they should never be and my temper’s a tad bit frayed. So let’s just get on with our day and call pax on this little conflict you’re so anxious inflame. Whaddya say?”
The only response was a slight twinkle in Edward’s eye and more silence.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” the beaver cursed exasperatedly. “Fine, whatever. Let’s get it over with. It’s not like someone’s going to sneak up on us and stuff us in a crate, is it? Oh wait…”
“Yes, about that. If you are quite done, may I suggest we move our little tête-à-tête to a more convenient location. I’d rather not be here when whomever decides to get around to investigating arrives. A relocation is in order and if you have no further objections, I suggest you follow me.”
“Right. Follow. Sure thing, Bucky. Lead on, MacDaft, I’m right behind ya.”
Edward look pointedly at the beaver and agreed. “Yes. Yes, you are going to be right behind me. Shall we?”
With the pleasant image of biting the annoying self-declared superior ass’s tail right off dancing across his brain, the beaver fell into step and head off the road and into the woods.
6:12
6:12
“And where do you think you are off to?”
The beaver paused, looked over his shoulder at the disheveled rabbit and said nothing, just shaking his head sadly.
“I repeat, where is it that you, in your tiny little excuse for a brain, imagine you will be ambling off to?” Edward strove for as much dignity as his current state would allow. “I do believe we have some unfinished business to attend to — not that I’ve ensured there will be not further interruptions.”
This broke through the beaver’s stoic demeanor. “You!” he sputtered. “You’ve done nothing but hinder me since this whole thing started. You… You… You think that you’ve had anything to do with anything but the abject and ridiculous? Gah!”
The beaver turned his head back and started moving steadily down the gravel road. “Stupid god-damned rabbit… Arrogant little piece of weasel shit… Couldn’t maneuver his way out of a toilet bowl without flushing himself…”
“Ahem.”
The beaver halted suddenly as Edward appeared right in front of him. After a quick flash of startlement passed over his face, he set his jaw and moved resolutely forward, shouldering the smaller animal aside and resumed his muttering. “Only thing he brought to the party was his fleas… Don’t know why I haven’t succeed the local Fudd on him … Might as well be a eunuch in a stud farm for all the good…”
He swerved sharply to miss the rabbit in front of him, but unfortunate failed to notice that Edward had positioned himself by a large cedar and barely managed to dig his paws in to avoid smacking his forehead into the trunk.
“God damn you ridiculous hunk of Hossenfeffer! Stop doing that!”
Edward twitched his ear and pulled it down to smooth out the fur between his forepaws. “Need I remind you again that we have outstanding items on the agenda and that you! are! NOT! free to wander off and continue your smug and self-indulgent tinker in matters that are above the capability of your stubborn, single-minded, supercilious and, most importantly, simple mind!” Edward hadn’t really raised his voice, but the words snapped through the air like the tip of a bullwhip and the beaver finally looked into the eyes of the diminutive creature.
What he saw there made him rethink the instinctive urge to ignore the interfering little rodent, and he started to think through the situation. Not wanting to give the rabbit an edge he spat out the first insult that came to mind while he quickly started to examine his options.
“Simple? Simple like your idea of a plan, you mean. Simple like your inability to face reality, oh lord high-and-mighty mystical piece of rabbit turd…”
The beaver settled his hind legs against the sturdy and comforting bulk of the massive cedar and thrust his head at the unnaturally still rabbit. “I don’t want to know, I don’t care to know and I most especially don’t want to hear anything that is going to come out of your mouth right now. So do us all a favor, wander down some rabbit hole and go play with Alice and whoever else your drug-addled imagination can conjure up and leave. Me. Alone.”
Edward tilted his head and waited patiently.
6:11 More Stupid Human Tricks
While waiting for his water to boil, Gareth surfed his feeds on his phone. On one of his favourite sites, libertariansocialismgonewild.org, he stumbled across a piece that made him smile.
***
A comment appearing after a CBC.ca article talking about a billionaire suing Forbes for miscalculating his wealth:
A brilliant example of what is wrong with this world.
No worries, there’s only a few million starving right now … and a few million more suffering without medical assistance.
While I sympathize with the reasoning behind the this comment, I find it, well, ironic, that the thing that is most wrong to teh commenter is the billionaire doing the stupid things that billionaires do while the commenter him-(or her-) self seems to think there are only a few million people suffering in the world. If one is willing to stretch few to mean 925 then they might be more accurate.
In round numbers there are 7 billion people in the world. Thus, with an estimated 925 million hungry people in the world, 13.1 percent, or almost 1 in 7 people are hungry.
Personally I think the thing that’s wrong with the world is that the numbers have gotten too big. We cant really comprehend the disaster that we are living in so we in the privileged world just reduce the size of the problem so we can wrap our minds around it then end up marginalizing it because it doesn’t seem so significant any more. And yes, I do it too…
Just my 2 cents.
***
“Huh,” he thought, “Be sure brain is engaged before putting mouth — or keyboard— into gear.”
6:10
6:10
Wow. Is that strike four? I am starting to wonder whether just reverting to beaver–bunny relations might be the easier route. I mean, I can keep the overlord of time stuff but just go back to a traditional(-ish) narrative. With the gore of course. Definitely need more gore …
The gravely wounded sub-lieutenant lay sprawled in a pool of his own rapidly cooling blood and tried to hold in the pulsating tendrils of his intestines while his rapidly dimming eyes followed the gore-soaked figure of his lord and master about the room.
“My …. my lord …,” he croaked. “I have failed you …”
“Yes, you fool. You have failed me. But I will take solace in the fact it is the last time.”
The blackened blade of the grimly edged sword raised high in the air, and the entrails and blood-soaked fragments of his foes slid off the slick blade and fell to the floor. Then with an almost invisible twitch of the powerful wrists, the blade severed the poor minion’s head from what remained of his shoulders.
The obscene, gore-ecrusted figure turned away and strode onto the battlefield once more.
“Fight, you bastards. Fight! Or I’ll see you all in hell!”
6:9
6:9
Huh. That didn’t really work out the way I had planned. Doesn’t seem to have much… well, any, “oomph” at all. Slim. And boring.
Maybe it needs an interactive cd or something. Just to spice it up. Oh, code: that’s writing isn’t it? That could count. And I already did this today:
<div id="menu">
<p>
<img src="https://ec-assets.s3.amazonaws.com/assets/306/sidebar_Glasshouse_logo.png" alt="Glasshouse bistro logo" width="265" height="58"/>
</p>
<h2>To Begin</h2>
<p>
<b>Fresh Pressed Juice</b> w/ organic apple, carrot & ginger
<b>$5</b> </p>
<p>
<b>Fresh Pressed Mimosa</b> fresh squeezed orange juice & bubbly
<b>$8.5</b> </p>
<p>
<b>Prosecco Cocktail</b> w/ rhubarb
<b>$8</b> </p>
<p>
<b>Bacon Caesar Cocktail</b> w/ bacon infused vodka & a strip of crispy bacon
<b>$9 </b>
</p>
<p>
<b>Mojito</b> fresh mint, cucumber, lime, rum & soda 1.5oz
<b>$9</b> </p>
<p>
<b>Local Yogurt & House Granola</b> w/ house-made fruit compote
<b>$4</b> </p>
<p>
<b>Bruschetta</b> GULL VALLEY tomatoes, olive oil, garlic, balsamic reduction & toasted baguette
<b>$7</b>
</p>
<h2>Main Course</h2>
<p>
<strong>Quinoa Salad*</strong> dried apricot, artisan lettuce, radish, soaked almonds, honey pomegranate dressing
<strong>$12</strong> </p>
<p>
<strong>Roasted Beet Salad</strong> warm hemp heart-crusted goat cheese, onion jam, cold-pressed hemp balsamic vinaigrette, walnut & apricot crackers
<strong> $14</strong>
</p>
<p>
<strong>Saint City Salad</strong> honey roasted chicken breast, aged white cheddar, apple cider vinaigrette & rosemary cornbread croutons
<strong> $17</strong> </p>
<p>
<strong>Egg Frittata</strong>
<span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"> </span>
<span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"> </span>w/ roasted mushrooms chevre & caramelized onions served with house hash
<strong> $13</strong> </p>
<p>
<strong>Farmer's Scramble</strong> SandyView Farms turkey sausage, local eggs & herbed winter vegetables w/ hash & whole grain toast
<strong> $16</strong> </p>
<p>
<strong>Eggs Benedict</strong> w/ wilted spinach, hollandaise, potato hash & green salad w/ apple cider vinaigrette
<strong> $16</strong>
<br />Add Irving's smoked shaved ham
<strong> $3</strong> </p>
<p>
<strong>Sweet Crepes</strong> w/ fresh cheese, wild berry compote & apple cider maple glaze
<strong> $14</strong> </p>
<p>
<strong>Glasshouse French Toast</strong> w/ smoked Polish cheese, rosemary & apple compote, SandyView Farms bratwurst sausage
<strong> $15</strong> </p>
<p>
<strong>"Steak & Eggs*"</strong> Spring Creek beef striploin* 5oz. grilled to medium rare & served
<br />with potato hash, organic greens, Gull Valley tomatoes, bacon vinaigrette, topped w/ two fried eggs
<strong> $23</strong> </p>
<h2>Sides</h2>
<p>
<strong>Enjoy Bakery Toast</strong> w/ preserves made from Hole's garden
<strong> $3</strong> </p>
<p>
<strong>SandyView Farms Smoked Bacon*</strong> (3 strips)
<strong> $3.5</strong>
</p>
<p>
<strong>SandyView Farms Bratwurst Sausage</strong>
<strong> $4.5</strong> </p>
<p>
<strong>Potato Hash*</strong> w/ house-made ketchup
<strong> $3</strong> </p>
<h2>For The Children (under 12)</h2>
<p>
<strong>Grilled Cheese Sandwich</strong> w/ house-made ketchup & Gouda cheese
<strong> $7</strong> </p>
<p>
<strong>Half Sweet Crepe</strong>
<strong> $8</strong> </p>
<p>
<strong>French Toast</strong> w/ Maple
<strong> $7</strong> </p>
<p>
<strong>*Denotes gluten-free.</strong> Please let your server know of any dietary restrictions beforehand, we are happy to accommodate them. No beavers were harmed in the preparation of this menu.</p>
</div>
<p> </p>
<p>
<em>Updated June 7, 2013</em>
<br />Menu subject to change</p>
That should be good … right?
6:8
6:8
VROOM!
“I see, yes, this is the place.”
(I wonder what he is doing here?)
“Nice to see you again.”
(I wonder if he can tell I don’t mean that?)
“Yes. It is nice, isn’t it.”
YEOW!
“Did you see that?”
“That man just burned his hand on the pizza oven!”
“Oh no!”
NEE-NAA NEE-NAA NEE-NAA
“Thank goodness. The fire engine is coming.”
“Well, should we order?”
“Yes, but let’s not order pizza…”
AH HA HA HA HA HA!
6:7
6:7
Hmmm, I guess I should have read some of this drivel earlier in the planning process: blech. Ain’t gonna win awards with this dreck.
Maybe I should focus on designing awards for anyone who’s managed to keep up this long. A girl with a cowgirl accent? And can you just imagine what a sarcastic beaver would actually sound like? Two buck teeth will go a long way to making your speaking voice unintelligible, or at least add a lovely comedic lisp to the process.
And I’m a pretty sure I had a point in mind when adding the narrator, but that sure as hell got lost pretty early in the process.
Maybe I should study up on the DC world and do one of those famous comic book reboots. The rabbit can be a Rhodes scholar magically transformed by the gods to hunt down Loki, who because of his last and ill-conceived trick against Odin was punished by being turned into a beaver. Oh, this is good.
Gareth and Rowan are two master’s students from the Classics department ensnared in a complex plot to prevent Professor Edward from stopping Loki before he manages to save the day.
Ooh, ooh, and the weird guy in the tower (what the hell is that about anyway–talk about writing yourself into an incoherent corner) can be a lost soul doomed to act as gatekeeper yet secretly sympathizing with Loki’s mission. He was enslaved by Barney, a multi-dimensional being who encompasses all matter but has of late been leaning a bit too much to the evil side–much to the detriment of our local space-time.
So who does that leave? The narrator’s just gone: stupid idea to begin with. The incidentals can be rewritten as minions of one sort or another, and maybe I’ll get them some red shirts or something. That’s what the plot needs: a few gory deaths here and there.
Oh, Meredith. Right. Ummm, I guess she’s the mother earth figure: Gaia or some such. Not sure if there is a Norse equivalent, but hell, it’s my book, I’ll just make one. She can be the focal point of the evil Barney-spirit’s interference and maybe she needs to recover her magic veil or jewel or some shred of her all-soul. I’ll figure it out later.
So, now we know. A reboot. Good.
….
Of course on reflection it actually doesn’t sound like less work. In fact, it’s rather more if I have to go back and retell all first bits again. Huh. But … yah, I just did, didn’t I? So if I go and put an asterisk back at 1:1 telling them to skip ahead to 6:7 before reading further, then any new readers can fill it in for themselves and all you current lucky readers are good to go.
So, step one complete.
Step two: figure out how to do this easier. Well, since I’ve already ripped off the comic book guys, why not keep dipping my pen in their well. I’ll just write the words assuming in some later date that I can hire a illustrator to fill in the actions. That way I can get away with “BAM” and “Holy habitual habits, Batman!” and that’ll be enough for an entire episode. I’ll just set a conversion rate of one page per day, or even better, one panel per day and this will be simplicity itself.
Wow, sometimes I amaze myself.
6:6
6:6
Hmmm, maybe a recipe? Oh, yah, did that.
Well then, a poem. Nope, did that, too.
I know, a quick and witty reflection of what’s what in my life. I could even weave it … Oh ya, that was a cop-out, wasn’t it?
Well, it’s not fair. I’m not getting paid. There are no subscriptions to my blog. Where’s the cash flow, I say. Where’s the moola? I need a government bailout, some grease for my literary wheels …
Now that’s an idea. Maybe some Canada Council money based on my work to date. I can write some grant applications, maybe an award entry or two, and it’ll be easy street.
Who needs a paranoid rabbit anyway?
L.A., here I come!
6:5
6:5
The author sat perched at the counter for his lunch break and polished off a turkey-and-bacon sandwich. He had a pile of work waiting on his desk and a couple of long days facing him. As a result all he really could think of was a sort of pathetic self-pitying series of excuses about why he shouldn’t be trying to write. He already missed a couple of weekend days and was in danger of failing to keep the daily posts going.
Why did I ever come up with this stupid idea? It seemed so simple: just write every day. But then it became a story with characters and continuity — although he admitted to himself it was more usually characterized by a lack of continuity. Earl had warned him, his mother was against it, his editor was too busy to meet the stupid schedule, his loyal readers questioned the characters and it was summertime, dammit!
He had holidays planned, courses to take and summer boozing to do. There wasn’t enough time for writing every day. Would everyone else (all three of them) mind if he took weekends off? Or maybe allowed a few funny pictures with a caption? That had worked for Earl, and this was basically all his fault anyway.
And who the hell could remember what the damn characters were doing anyway? All over the bloody place and no plot outline in sight. He might as well be wandering through a labyrinth with a blindfold.
Not to mention the stupid messages and paperwork that were cropping up as a result of all the ridiculous levels of story. Or were those just dreams? Doesn’t matter. If I’m so far gone that I’m dreaming about this thing, then it’s time to move on. Take up sudoku or petit point, and realize that a writer has to think, not just peck away at a virtual keyboard in between sandwiches and at coffee breaks.
That’s it. I’ve decided. I’ll just start again; new rules, new ideas; I’ll just make this easier and it’ll all be good.
…