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| NewYears Special | Started by: BadWolf on Jan 01, '25 14:00 |
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It was the night of New Year’s cheer, with festivities filling the air, and the folks were hopping, leaping, and dancing without a care. The night wore on, the parties raged hard, but deep in the heart of New York, something stirred...something bizarre. A new drug was brewing, said to put a skip in one's step, a sprightly energy with no regret. They called it the NewYear Special, so fine, so bright, said to fill the soul with pure delight. Now, there was one poor soul who loved the finer things in life, a privileged lady with grace, charm, and might. Skippuccio Isabeau, they all did say, she knew all, heard all, night and day. With tapes of secrets, she'd catch every sound, nothing happened without her around. She gave a magnanimous donation of 30 million, no less to ol Lord Craven’s HQ, and blessing him with permission to be a bold within high society. But when a rude scouser dared not thank her, oh what a fuss! He didn't sing praises of thanks for her kindness from his slumber, any aristocrat worth their beans could do such! This ruffled her feathers, as you can tell, so she stewed in silence feeling unwell. The night came for the New Year, she was ready to dine, with the finest “appetizers,” oh how divine! But alas, the NewYear Special crept in, and in an instant, she lost all her wits. Her words became jumbled, her thoughts unclear, and in a flash, she leapt, disappearing from here. Over the balcony, she fell with a scream, into the madness of New Year's Eve's gleam. To most, this would’ve been the end, a tragic fall, but oh, no this was only the start of it all. The NewYear Special kept Skippuccio hopping, lashing out, calling folks names and never stopping. "Recognize my greatness!" she'd scream with a shout, "None are worthy to breathe my air out!" She took to the cafés, posting tapes everywhere, claiming the streets, the power, the flair. Passing by a café, BadWolf stopped and stared, for there, in tatters, was Skippuccio—unprepared. Her mind was a whirlwind, her eyes full of haze, muttering nonsense and lost in a daze. She had set up a shack made of cardboard and grime, with newspaper clippings, each one a crime. Red letters scribbled, "ze tapes!" all around, shoe strings connecting the papers she found. It seemed she was searching for some grand connection, though the years of papers told no clear direction. She caught BadWolf staring, with madness in her eyes, and hurled some filth, shouting cruel lies. "Bitch!" she yelled, then went back to her task, mumbling and rambling, lost in her fairytale. BadWolf just shook his head, with a flick of his thumb a nickle flew, and made a vow to never touch drugs only hooch for him, and he walked away, not looking back again. |
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Summer was about to start clapping as the story ended. She realized it didn't end in a rhyme and wondered if she missed something...perhaps there was a hidden message. Could be more secret clues. She smiled and nodded after deciding she would consult Keith. He was as wise as he was majestic and would certainly know a hidden message if there was one. She looked around and clapped realizing she was not only the only one not clapping but multiple people were giving her side eyes. Likely because her thinking face often contorts into more of a grotesque pain face than an actual thinking face. "Bravo" she shouted as she clapped overly aggressively to make up for her previous lack of clapping. |
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| Reply by: Summer at Jan 02, '25 10:14 | |
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