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Crankyfeet

<The Sheriff and Jackson are in the car... the Sheriff driving>

Jackson: So Brick... you know what the funniest thing about Canada is?"

Sheriff: What?

Jackson: It's the little differences. I mean they got the same shit over there that they got here, but it's just, just there it's a little different.

Sheriff: Example

Jackson: Well they stick gravy on their french fries. Except they don't call it "gravy on my fries". It's metric there. They call it "poutine" <pronounced pooh-tin>. But in Montreal...you gotta make sure you don't say it like "pooh-tain" when you ask for it. Cause in french... that means prostitute.

Sheriff: Thanks for that Jack. I'll have to remember that its "pooh-tain" so I don't end up with gravy soaked fries.

Jackson: Why is Lorena helping McAussie with his fence...isn't that dangerous?

Sheriff: I told her to do it. It's part of my plan. Lorena doesn't know it... but I rubbed her jacket with the scent of the dead emus and the decapitated head of the dog. I'm using her as a decoy.

Jackson: Isn't that a bit rough on Lorena?... She's really nice.

Sheriff: I thought you'd be happy Jack. I mean you're black, black Jack <the Sheriff laughs>, have hardly any character development in this story, and you're making your first appearance as we hightail it towards the scary flesh-eating beasts. I thought you'd be pleased that Lorena was the one reeking of emu and dog carcass.

Jackson: That Blackjack joke was a little offensive, Brick. And by the way, that's not what your wife calls me.

<The sheriff's mobile phone rings>

Sheriff: <answering the phone> Aha... look don't worry dear... she's probably just stayed the night with one of her friends. <pause> I love you too.

Jackson: Who was that?

Sheriff: That was my wife... She's just worried that our daughter hasn't come home yet.

Jackson: Emily?

Sheriff: No... Jessica

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Originally posted by Frigo's Luggage...

"[Calling him] 'dickcheese' is the insult of a master. Some people work in oil, some people work in clay. He [thoughtforfood] works in profanity. Open your mind and enjoy its beauty."

nns1400

this is awesome...

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Why not go out on a limb? That's where the fruit is. Mark Twain

Crankyfeet

<at the McAussie property... Lorena and McAussie are working on the fence>

Lorena: Why is it just me that has to dig all these new post holes? Why can't you help?

McAussie: I'm doing the hard job Lorena, I'm standing watch and perhaps saving us from death if those beasts decide to come back.

Lorena: Do you think they'll attack us in daylight?

McAussie: They have attacked my emus in broad daylight... so I don't think they're just nocturnal. Not meaning to be rude or anything, but have you showered and changed since last night?

Lorena: Yeah... I thought that smell was you?

McAussie: I don't think it's me <smelling his arm... then takes a whiff of Lorena> Ew-ugh! Crikey Sheila... you smell like you slept with my emus last night!

Lorena: I'm sorry... I have had a bit of a body odor problem for a while.

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Originally posted by Frigo's Luggage...

"[Calling him] 'dickcheese' is the insult of a master. Some people work in oil, some people work in clay. He [thoughtforfood] works in profanity. Open your mind and enjoy its beauty."

Crankyfeet

<back in the Sheriff's patrol car... there is a call on the police radio from the station>

Police Radio: We got a 13-4 at 140 Grayson. Some evidence present. No sign of the perps.

Sheriff: Right, we're on it Little Feather... We're about 15 minutes away... Over

<The Sheriff executes a quick 180 and speeds off back to town>

Jackson: Gee... I hope that isn't the trolls... that would mean they have tasted human flesh.<pause... Sheriff looks visibly shaken> What's up Brick?

Sheriff: Jessica's friend lives at 140 Grayson.

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Originally posted by Frigo's Luggage...

"[Calling him] 'dickcheese' is the insult of a master. Some people work in oil, some people work in clay. He [thoughtforfood] works in profanity. Open your mind and enjoy its beauty."

Crankyfeet

<Sheriff Tom Brickland and Deputy Jackson screech to a stop outside 140 Grayson and run inside... some police are already at the scene>

Sheriff: Whadda we got Edwards...

Edwards: At least two bodies, Sir. One young male... we have found only his head... and some other body parts which look like they come from at least one girl. We found a clump of female hair.

Sheriff: What color?

Edwards: Blonde sir

Sheriff: Well that's a small relief... Jessica's is brunette.

Edwards: Your daughter - Jessica, Sir?

Sheriff: Don't worry about it. Looks like two teenagers were having sex in the hot tub. They were doomed. Where did you find the hair?

Edwards: It seems the girl ran inside and up the staircase sir. Looks like she got trapped and was attacked near the top of the stairs.

Sheriff: Don't these kids ever watch films?? You never run up the frickin' staircase... especially if you're blonde.

Edwards: It's going to be hard to identify the body.

Sheriff: Don't worry, I think I know who it is... Tiffany Blake

Edwards: Wow that's a coincidence sir... that's the same surname as the owners of the house.

Sheriff: It's the daughter of the owners of the house, stupid. Where are the parents?

Edwards: We think they're away on a weekend vacation. The pool maintenance guy discovered the scene sir.

Sheriff: I still haven't located Jessica... I've just gotta believe she's alright. If Mayor Conley doesn't respond to this and call off the Parade, then we're going to be building up some incredible tension between myself and the Mayor. Any idea yet on who or what did this?

Edwards: We have a partial footprint in the blood sir, It's hard to make out any detail, but we think the killer is barefoot and would normally wear a size 23 shoe. I'm just gunna go out on a limb here sir, but I have a hunch Shaq O'Neal did it sir.

<Sheriff stares incredulously at Officer Edwards>

Sheriff: Edwards... despite a size 23 foot being quite rare, it frickin' well aint Shaq!... Okay!... It isn't even human... They aren't even human... The trolls are eating humans! No one is safe! <turns to Jackson> Oh my god... Lorena!!

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Originally posted by Frigo's Luggage...

"[Calling him] 'dickcheese' is the insult of a master. Some people work in oil, some people work in clay. He [thoughtforfood] works in profanity. Open your mind and enjoy its beauty."

Andrija

Slowly, but surely, this is becoming all - time best thread.

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"Soldiers! Heroes!

The supreme command has erased our regiment from its records. Our regiment has been sacrificed for the honor of Belgrade and the Fatherland. Therefore, you no longer have to worry for your lives - they do not exist anymore.
So, forward to glory! For King and country! Long live the king! Long live Belgrade! "

Crankyfeet

The Vicious Invasion of the Trolls Act 2


The story reverts here back to literary form (the screenplay style was easier but caused a mellowing of interest it seemed)

The Blake residence at 140 Grayson is a crime scene. Who knows exactly what transpired? As yet only two partial bodies have seemingly been recovered. Or was it three? Jessica surely didn’t escape. Someone had met their peril at the hot tub, and it wasn’t Tiffany or Rollo. Sheriff Tom Brickland has turned to Deputy Jackson,

“Come on Jack, we’ve got to get to Lorena fast… Edwards, you come too… we’re going to need all the firepower we can muster”

Edwards replies in a sheepish tone, “Sir, you can take my revolver then, my niece has a piano recital tonight and I was hoping that….”

“You’re coming with us!” Tom interjects, “We don’t need guns… we need fingers on triggers”

The men walk briskly to the Sheriff’s patrol car and climb in, Edwards speaks again, sheepishly,

“Sir, there’s no room in the back here… there are guns all over the back seat.”

“Well, sit on top of them… and hurry we haven’t got time!” the Sheriff commands.

Edwards is persistent, “Sir, you don’t understand, I have megahoplophobia sir… it’s a fear of big guns sir… Can’t Jackson sit in the back sir?”

Jackson cuts in “Hey this is my seat!… And there’s not enough leg room in the back for me”

Tom Brickland’s patience is wearing thin… “Edwards, how the fuck have you carried a revolver for three years if you’re afraid of frickin’ guns??!!”

“It’s only the big ones sir, you know, with the long barrels… You see my dad had this gun cabinet when I was young and…”

“Take the other fucking car!!” the Sheriff explodes.

Edwards is not reading the situation well, “Sir the men will need the other car because they are going to Don's Donuts and then drinks at O’Reilly’s for Swanson’s birthday…”

“Get in the fucking trunk!!”

“Yes Sir”

Edwards hops in the trunk and they speed off, Jackson is the first to talk,

“Brick, you sure he’s going to be alright back there...”

“No… but what’s the worst thing that can happen… he dies right… I can handle that scenario at the moment”, Brick continues, “I’m more worried about what he’s going to smell like… I forgot to dispose of that dog’s head and emu parts from last night and they’re in a sack in there with him.”

The sheriff takes out his cell phone and calls his wife while speeding to the farm,

“Hi honey… Have you found Jessica yet?… Well don’t worry, I’m sure she’s alright, remember that time we couldn’t locate her for two days after the Prom and it turned out that she just stayed with her best friend and forgot to call us. Everything’s going to be fine. I might be a little late tonight because I have to go out to McAussie’s farm. Please lock the doors and windows. See you later… love you…”

He presses another speed dial,

“Hi… can I speak to the Mayor please… Its Tom Brickland…. Uh-huh… I’ll try him on his mobile”

Brickland starts to dial another number as he mutters to Jack, “The town is facing an invasion of ancient man-eating beasts and the Mayor has decided to take the afternoon off”…. He waits for an answer.

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Originally posted by Frigo's Luggage...

"[Calling him] 'dickcheese' is the insult of a master. Some people work in oil, some people work in clay. He [thoughtforfood] works in profanity. Open your mind and enjoy its beauty."

Crankyfeet

After several rings… a female voice answers “Hello…” The mayor can be heard from a slight distance at first “Here, give me that… This is Mayor Conley”

“Who was that Dave?” Tom quizzes the Mayor.

“Ahh… That’s just my assistant Monica… we’re in the middle of a meeting in my office with a group of people”

“Dave… I just rang your office and they told me you took the afternoon off.”

“Well when I said my office… I was referring to my other office… Anyway… What is it!!??” the Mayor snaps, hoping that a little impatience may halt the flow of questions.

“Sir it looks like the beasts have murdered some kids sir… We need to call off the weekend festivities”

The Mayor is resilient, ”How can you be sure they were killed by beasts… mightn’t it have just been a serial murderer?”

“Would that make a difference?”, asks Tom

The Mayor responds, “Well yeah of course… There are people killed all over America all the time… murder smurder… it’s not something to make a big hullabaloo about and get people scared unnecessarily by making panic decisions like calling off our Annual Parade”

“Dave… this is ridiculous… You’ve gotta call it off”

“Tom, I think you should just do your job… And I’ll do mine, okay?”, The Mayor continues, “Maybe we should meet in half an hour and have a drink and talk about this”

“I won’t be able to do that Dave… I’m currently speeding out to the McAussie farm … I think Lorena and McAussie are in danger”

“Lorena Ticksley?” the Mayor prompts.

“Yes Dave… she is in mortal danger I sense... And I can't call her... you can't pick up a phone signal at McAussie's farm.”

There is some whispering in the background, and the Mayor comes back, “Look Tom, Monica has told me that Lorena is her best friend and she’s worried. Lorena is also an acquaintance of mine. Anyway, I think I want to go out there as well. I just can’t believe all this crap about Shrek and his friends rampaging through the town eating animals and people… I think I need to bring some sanity to this situation”

“Well Dave if you’re coming out, can you pick up Little Feather from the station?”

“Why do you need a little feather from the station?” The Mayor asks in a confused tone.

“No… our dispatcher, Dave… Little Feather… Chief Running Horse’s daughter”. The Sheriff continues, “I have a sense that she may be useful”

“Okay… I’ll see you out there in half an hour.” The mayor concludes, ending the call.

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Originally posted by Frigo's Luggage...

"[Calling him] 'dickcheese' is the insult of a master. Some people work in oil, some people work in clay. He [thoughtforfood] works in profanity. Open your mind and enjoy its beauty."

nns1400

Uh-oh... Now what happens?

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Why not go out on a limb? That's where the fruit is. Mark Twain

Frigo's Luggage

I haven't read any of this yet. I think I'm going to have to block out some time to do it before Het Volk.

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We are all made of stars.

nns1400

Remember back when you thought we were boring?? And you were counting the days til Het Volk....

__________________
Why not go out on a limb? That's where the fruit is. Mark Twain

Frigo's Luggage

Oh. I didn't think you folks were that boring. Those posts were completely misinterpreted. If I was bored I would have been on to something else.

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We are all made of stars.

nns1400

Awww...thanks Frigo...I for one wasn't bored, but no way of knowing how nauseating it could possibly have been to others... LOL...

__________________
Why not go out on a limb? That's where the fruit is. Mark Twain

Crankyfeet

This is turning into FID 2

__________________
Originally posted by Frigo's Luggage...

"[Calling him] 'dickcheese' is the insult of a master. Some people work in oil, some people work in clay. He [thoughtforfood] works in profanity. Open your mind and enjoy its beauty."