Burning Down the (Beach) House Penelope and the Marbles
Off the coast of the dream city, there is a large sand bar with several beach houses lined up along the contours of the dunes. I was with Scott and Bob, who I met at Comic Con, and we were just getting ready to load our stuff into the beach house when I noticed the sulfur smell of natural gas. I stepped back down the stairs with my bag and said "Rotten eggs, or gas, either way I don't think we want to put everything in there until we air it out."
I was opening the windows from outside when there was a loud FWUMP! And then the flames shot out over my head and out every window and door. Everyone was OK. The beach house made a lovely bonfire, and the neighbors all came out to see what was going on.
In one of the kitchens of the haunted house is an island with several canisters. (There are three kitchens, one not used because it is, well, haunted. The other is completely devoid of fixtures, having been renovated into another purpose at one time or another and only recently have we started to turn it back into a kitchen (It is a little smaller and more central.) One of our deceased cats, Her Majesty Penelope Anastasia Flufferdoodle the First, was playing in the kitchen and "accidentally knocked a jar of marbles on to the floor. She leapt down and (I wish I had video of the speed at which her paws used to move) began to flash around the floor batting the marbles into a frenzy of clattering motion. Eventually every marble on the floor was moving and Penelope was teleporting as well and using her flying feline fists of fury attack to keep everything moving all at once. I noticed she had them all rolling towards the island and she stopped and dropped and rolled at my feet for a head bonk.
We used to refer to her as a house dragon, even though that fluffy white belly was plush and inviting, you were risking your flesh if you tried to pet her without the proper preparation. "You may rub my head now," was her motto.
Ad astra per technica,
FF and
Her Royal Highness Ginger Muffin Flufferdoodle the Second (who graciously supervised this entry.)
I was opening the windows from outside when there was a loud FWUMP! And then the flames shot out over my head and out every window and door. Everyone was OK. The beach house made a lovely bonfire, and the neighbors all came out to see what was going on.
In one of the kitchens of the haunted house is an island with several canisters. (There are three kitchens, one not used because it is, well, haunted. The other is completely devoid of fixtures, having been renovated into another purpose at one time or another and only recently have we started to turn it back into a kitchen (It is a little smaller and more central.) One of our deceased cats, Her Majesty Penelope Anastasia Flufferdoodle the First, was playing in the kitchen and "accidentally knocked a jar of marbles on to the floor. She leapt down and (I wish I had video of the speed at which her paws used to move) began to flash around the floor batting the marbles into a frenzy of clattering motion. Eventually every marble on the floor was moving and Penelope was teleporting as well and using her flying feline fists of fury attack to keep everything moving all at once. I noticed she had them all rolling towards the island and she stopped and dropped and rolled at my feet for a head bonk.
We used to refer to her as a house dragon, even though that fluffy white belly was plush and inviting, you were risking your flesh if you tried to pet her without the proper preparation. "You may rub my head now," was her motto.
Ad astra per technica,
FF and
Her Royal Highness Ginger Muffin Flufferdoodle the Second (who graciously supervised this entry.)
posted by Fermius Firefly | 6:11 AM
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