Her eyes widen as she listens to the new stories being told on every street corner by new members of the community. Her head swimming in details, following them from street corner to street corner she becomes even more overwhelmed. Finding a quiet park bench she sits and tries to keep all of the details straight. Before she knew it they started up again with new chapters...

Finding herself searching for someone to console her she runs into Poisonous Jelly's inner sanctum for a quieter place to think.

PJ, my love, I know I'm not the most vocal person in public, but help me. I don't know what to do. My writing skills have been called out by an unsponsored gangster who thinks they are better than I am. I am torn. I know I'm good. I'm damn good. That's not ego talking either.

She settles into her favourite overstuffed armchair and holds a cushion close to her chest.

My problem is that I can't write eighteen chapter stories on the fly. I like to take my time, proofread my scripts, make sure the details flow together in a way that makes sense. Is this wrong? Should I just share every idea that comes to mind without care being shown toward how it represents my personal integrity? I don't want to sell out just to appease these people.

I really don't understand why they can't keep it in their pants until it's complete and share it as a whole story rather than keeping us scrambling from corner to corner. It's a bit much for some of us old timers to keep up with.

She swats one of the office monkeys away from her head.

Can you PLEASE get these little bastards under control. I'm sick of coming in here and having my personal space invaded by them. It takes washing my clothes dozens of times to get rid of their stench!

Noticing that her Kingy was ignoring her for the most recent issue of "Hubcaps Weekly" she storms out of the office muttering to herself.

I miss Slash. Slash used to listen to me. He used to make me feel better after a good rant. You can sleep in the monkey house with WWI tonight PJ! You hear me?

Her threat going unnoticed she storms out of the office wiping away tears of heartbreak until she once again finds herself back in the Street looking for someone to converse with, alas, most were trying to make sense of the recent mass stories being by the new enthusiastic up and coming bards.

Coffee.. That's it. I'll find coffee. Maybe someone will sit down and have a conversation with me. That's all I want. I don't need stories told to me, I need conversation. I need contact with humanity on a mutually interactive level.

I KNOW! WhereWasI was always one for a good debate about chocolate versus peanut butter.

She spots a little cafe just down the road from WWI's monkey house of a headquarters and smiles as she rushes to find a seat on their patio.

I will wait. I will wait and see who cares to join me. I can do this. There has to be someone out there just waiting for a conversation. I'll wait for days if I have to. Just to be able to chat about the weather again would be splendid.

She orders a coffee and scone while sitting on the Strip waiting for someone to come and join her.

WhereWasI comes strolling in,

Peanut Butter is terrible! Chocolate is so much better. More importantly, I caught word you've been telling people my fort is a monkey house. We're the ANTIMonkey Fort.

WhereWasI then realizes PJ is to blame and sends one of his members to light a hubcap on fire in front of PoisonousJelly's Fort.

She rolls her eyes in disgust.

Chocolate completes the peanut butter! It accompanies the peanut butter. Peanut butter is nasty by itself. It requires something with it at all times! Chocolate on the other hand can be enjoyed solo or with something else like peanut butter or strawberries. Even better yet, with peanut butter AND strawberries. That would be grand.

She notices the fuel filled hub cap on fire and has a thought.

FONDUE! Thank you WhereWasI! I have a fondue pot that will fit over that perfectly. I can melt the chocolate while dipping strawberries into whipped peanut butter then when the chocolate is melted dip them in and enjoy a fantastic snack with my bedtime glass of 'shine.

She hugs WhereWasI and runs off to gather her supplies.

WhereWasI shouts before she gets too far,

Be sure to drizzle it with PoisonousJelly's tears! We all know he cries when a hubcap is destroyed in front of him and I want him to know I had a hand in both the fire and the dish!

She stops when she hears WWI's voice and grins.

They say the tears of an angel are magical.. I wonder what the tears of a Scouselord are like.

Hmmm....

She goes to break PJ's heart in order to collect these tears.

I know just how I'll do it too...

thats the problem with the young ones. they work like rabbits. boom boom boom. they still believe is quanity over quality. experienced people like you and are know its quality over quanity. we take our time, compose ourselves, then delivery something memorable. thats the only reason to take it out of your pants. doing something worth the time that can be ennjoyed

Have to agree with Falcon, quality over quantity any day, then again at my age I will take what I can get ;)

If all else fails, coffee is the answer, if that fails then a good malt whiskey :P

On the subject of crying, he has been drowning his sorrows since way back when his beloved football team last won a league championship :P

I think the salient point here is that when things are happening, like death, destruction, and then a time of rebuilding, it is not necessarily the best time to start in with stories about other events. We have a rather large event that just happened, that should provide plenty of opportunity for relevant actions and recountings of actual events. This is what these young mobsters need to learn. when things are happening, live in the now. Later when they get quieter, we can all regale each other with stories of our past or events not related to these streets. With time, each story teller should improve their basic technique, so I wont touch on some other obvious flaws.