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Who is your Favourite Guest Rebel?

Avalon - (Project Avalon)
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Feb 2020 Ficlet Challenge
‘A new era, Avon. Mankind is now mastered by the fruits of his lustful creation. Accept slavery, or return to the caves …’
Orac - Headhunter

The word prompt this month is … LUST.

Wikipedia defines this as a psychological force producing intense desire for an object, or circumstance fulfilling the emotion. Lust can take any form such as the lust for sexuality, love, money or power. It can take such mundane forms as the lust for food as distinct from the need for food.

*Please remember Horizon is a PG13 site.*

For the second challenge, our crew seem to have ended up in a Vidcast Reality Show - oh, dear.
The word prompt this month is … LUST.
Just IMHO... Avon and Money!
His eyes positively gleam when he drawls out its name.... "MMMoney!"
Hmmmm...Reality show. I'm not a fan of those at all, but I'll get round that problem...somehow!!
Cold.....you don't know the meaning of cold.
Cold is when you have ice on the INSIDE of the window!!!

sues stories http://sjlittle.w...
sues youtube channel http://www.youtub...e54/videos
sues book shelf https://www.media...ne%20Shelf
rebel run video http://www.youtub...prqS-XZtLo
Lara and Sue's Stories http://lectorisal....webs.com/
So, to recap from last month: the Liberator crew were visiting the dry planet of Valspar Minor, hoping to pick up a relay connector from a contact of Tarrant’s (reliability doubtful). They were each, for their own reasons, beginning to regret their little outing; but can the situation be saved? Well...

Tarrant had struggled when the group overheard by Vila had marched into the bar and made their intentions plain; but as there were three of them and one of him, the final result had been inevitable. Their mood had not improved when he had refused to disclose Vila’s current whereabouts; not that he had any hopes of rescue from that particular quarter, but still... Battered and bruised, he had been dragged off by the little gang. Nobody in the bar, least of all Purnell’s men, had lifted a finger to help.

His heart sank still further as they arrived at a grey, unprepossessing building where he was flung into a grey, even less prepossessing cell. His cellmates, however, were familiar.

“We wondered when you would arrive,” said Avon, leaning against the wall. “Where’s Vila?”

Tarrant took in his disinterested expression, Dayna’s obvious fury and Purnell’s despair, and shrugged.

“Probably being sick in Fitz’s yard. It seemed to be the most pressing thing on his mind when I last saw him. I doubt he’s even noticed I’ve gone.”

“Well, he noticed something. Just in time to warn us so it was overheard and our teleport bracelets removed.” Avon sounded irritated; Tarrant glanced down at his own bracelet, only to see a large crack running across it.

“Mine’s no good either. It must have broken in the fight. What’s going on, anyway? Who’s behind this?”

“Servalan,” said Dayna expressively. Tarrant looked sharply at Purnell, but their contact only sat with his head in his hands.

“You have to get us out of this,” he moaned. Avon and Tarrant both looked at him disgustedly; Dayna was more vocal in her opinion.

“Why? You got us into it.”

“Not on purpose! I never meant...”

“You never meant what?” Avon sounded dangerous.

“It was Arva; he said he knew a way to make a bit extra on the side... I shouldn’t have trusted him...” Purnell’s expression said he never had trusted Arva, but the lust for money had overruled common sense; the others turned their backs on him in revulsion. “It seemed like easy money.”

“No doubt it did,” agreed Avon. “You didn’t think there would be a catch to it?”

“Such as not living long enough to receive it?” Dayna sounded as if she was considering killing Purnell herself if Servalan didn’t get round to it first. He moaned hopelessly.

“She isn’t going to keep us locked up in here for ever,” Tarrant pointed out. “I don’t suppose you’ve got any idea what she’s planning, or didn’t they tell you that either?”

Purnell nodded. “We’re all going to die...”

“Apart from that inevitable fact of life, have you anything useful to say?” queried Avon.

“You don’t understand...”

“Then explain!”

“I recognise this place. It’s the headquarters of the VVC- the Valspar Minor Viscast Company. They’ve been trying to win back ratings from the other broadcasters... and I think we’re about to be the bait in their trap.” Purnell gulped. “They were talking about a new reality format. A live fugitive hunt. To the death.”

As if on cue, the door opened, and the guards re-entered. They smiled nastily, the bloodlust in their eyes all too obvious.

“You’re wanted.”
Oh dear, Stormypetrel! How are they going to get out of this one?? And do we really have to wait a month to find out?
Before I start, I wish to apologise in advance. You’ll see why...



“See! I told you this was a good idea!” Beamed Vila.
“It’s beautiful!” Marvelled Dayna. “And we can stay for the whole week?”
“That’s right! A week of sun, sea and soma. And not before time, I’d say. All this running around the galaxy, living on our wits-“
“Those of us who have wits,” rejoined a rather unimpressed Avon. Vila ignored him.
“- it can really take it out of you. About time we stopped running and enjoyed ourselves. And best of all... this Island planet has the same protected status as the Teales and Vandor convention! The Federation can’t touch us!” He allowed his eyes to wander towards a little group of attractive women in swimwear who were watching their arrival with great interest.

“And you say you won this holiday?”
“Yes, I told you! When we went to the Convention last year I got chatting to somebody who was recruiting, so I signed us up for five places.”
“Recruiting?” Avon pounced on the word.
“Recruiting for what? What have you signed us up to, Vila?” Asked Soolin. A young man with oiled hair and torso was eyeing her approvingly.
“Look, it’s a free holiday! All you can eat, drink and... you know- for a whole week! You’ve got to give a little to get a little, you know-“ His face was cast into shadow as Tarrant began to close in on him.
“And what have you, or rather we, given?” He demanded.

“Oh, no...” said Soolin, staring with dawning recognition at her surroundings; the beautiful white stone villa, surrounded by palm trees and situated at the edge of a white sandy beach, which was going to be the setting for a gorgeous sunset within the hour. The young oiled man had come over and was drawing her a little away from the others.
“Look, I thought it was a good deal-“
“Al right, all right! Look, this is the Island planet of Vesta!”
“This is THE island planet!” The man had started whispering in Soolin’s ear. The others still looked blank.
“Love Island Planet!” He said, exasperated. Tarrant’s mouth fell open.
“Are you telling us,” asked Avon in a murderously soft tone, “That you signed us all up to a week as contestants on Love Island Planet?”
“Just think about it!” He implored. “A whole week, all expenses paid- and only a week, centuries ago It used to go on for a month!” Avon was also advancing on him now. “There’s a cash prize!” He blurted out before Avon and Tarrant could silence him for good. Avon swiftly reached out to stay Tarrant’s hand.

“A cash prize?” Vila nodded eagerly.
“Fifty thousand credits. We could share it. Think about it, Avon. That’s a lot of money. “
“What do we have to do to win?” Asked Tarrant.
“You have to pair up with somebody here and whoever the viewing public think is the best couple at the end of the week wins.”
Tarrant’s eye caught Dayna’s.
“Oh, no, Tarrant! No! Not again!”
“You didn’t mind last time...”
“That was different-!”
“Again? Last time?” Vila stared from one to the other but before he could interrogate them further he was interrupted by a yelp that made them all jump and turn round.

The man who had accosted Soolin was now pinned to the wall with one of her hands at his throat. The other hand was not visible, but he was rapidly and profusely apologising in an oddly falsetto voice that made Tarrant and Vila look at each other and wince.
Soolin disgustedly released her squeaking prey and he scurried off with one brief, reproachful backward glance. She turned back to the others with grim satisfaction.

“I don’t think he’s going to win,” she remarked. She turned to Vila, and he flinched at the coldness in her eyes.

“Vila, this had better end well or you’ll be next!”
Edited by GanMiniMe on 04 February 2020 10:30:16
Oh! I’ve never seen Love Island, GanMiniMe, but I have heard enough conversation at work to suspect it is indeed a fate worse than death or Cygnus Alpha! I hope, for Vila’s sake, that they carry off the cash somehow.
You really want to see how our heroes are getting on with their foray into reality viscasts? Oh, well, go on, then...

Nobody was surprised when they were led into Servalan’s presence. She gestured to the guards, who stepped back, but remained, waiting, in case of trouble.

“So you are here,” she observed. “I was beginning to wonder if I had been misinformed.” She gave Purnell a dark glance; he quailed.

“N...no, Madam President. It was my man who contacted you... I’m quite reliable... I’m not with these people, really...”

“No? We had better deal with you separately, then,” suggested Servalan sweetly. She gestured to the guards again; Purnell was led off, still protesting. “Although I was told there were four of you...” She looked expectantly at the other three.

“Apparently not,” answered Avon.

“No matter. Three of you will do to begin with; no doubt we can add any extra contestants at a later date.”

“Contestants?” asked Dayna.

“Didn’t anyone tell you? Your friend Purnell volunteered you all for the pilot episode...”

“The fugitive hunt,” Tarrant broke in. Dayna and Avon glared at him; Servalan smiled.


* * *

Vila had hardly realised that his last-minute warning attempt had gone unheeded before he saw one of Purnell’s men slip surreptitiously out of the bar’s back door.

“Hey!” He was about to ask for help, then saw the man’s look of satisfaction at locating him. “Oh. Now can’t we...” Judging by his opponent’s menacing grin, they couldn’t. “Cally, teleport now!”

He arrived on board the Liberator white-faced and wild-eyed.

“What happened? Where is everyone?” Cally was startled.

“It was a trap. Servalan... they knew about us...”


“They’ve got them.”

“Then why haven’t they got you? Weren’t you with the others?”

“I was supposed to be with Tarrant... he said he didn’t need me.” Cally’s silent reproach was clearly not aimed at the missing Tarrant. “I wasn’t feeling well,” said Vila defensively, looking as if he wished he hadn’t reminded himself.

“We can’t just abandon them.”

“I didn’t say we should!”

“You’ll have to go back. See if you can find out what’s happened.”

“Me? Do I have to? I don’t think it does you any good, you know, drinking that temperance stuff; at least, it hasn’t me...”

“Then I’ll go,” said Cally impatiently. “Can you operate the teleport?”

Vila nodded; Orac broke in from the table.

“Your intervention may be badly timed. I am picking up a most unusual broadcast...”

“Shut up, Orac.”

Cally held up a hand to stop Vila’s protest. “Wait. Orac, what is this broadcast? Is it to do with the others?”

“It is. If you are interested, I suggest you proceed to the flight deck to view it.”

“A viscast?” Vila carried Orac through; after a pause, the viscast appeared on the screen.

“These contestants,” a presenter was saying, “have been given fugitive status, and will now officially be on the run. A team of hunters will be tracking their every move, overseen by a neutral figure...” The camera angle changed.

“Servalan?” howled Vila. “Neutral?” Cally shushed him as the camera swung again, this time revealing the three very recognisable ‘contestants’.

“If the fugitives reach their extraction point, they may win their freedom and their life,” went on the presenter. “If the hunters catch them, then... death.”

“That’s barbaric!” Cally, outraged, took a gun from the rack and hurried towards the teleport; Vila continued to stare at the screen as if transfixed. “Vila!”

“What? Oh, yes. Coming.” He hesitated. “You don’t actually want me...”

“Just work the teleport, Vila. I’m going down.”
Fantastic! This just keeps getting better, Stormypetrel! I wonder What Servalan has planned for Purnell... I doubt it’ll be pleasant.

I have a part 2 in my head but have yet to commit it to the forum. I’ve been off work with a grotty flu-type thingy. I should acknowledge the help of a work colleague with this one- I have never watched it either but, thanks to her kindly explaining the rudiments of it to me, I didn’t have to.
Love these fics. Great reading Stormy and Ganminime.(Also loved your account of traipsing across London with your coal scuttle Stormy). By co-incidence I wrote a story for a prompt way back on a similar theme to Stormy’s (which I’m posting here) and I’m working on a similar themed fic as Gan’s. (Not sure it’ll come together though!)
Great minds and all that.

Bread and Circuses

Given the height of her heels, the slim figure raced with a surprising turn of speed across the lumpy ground, flashes of sunlight reflecting off the crystals encrusting her white gown. The foremost of her pursuers gave a shout and pointed towards the winking beams. Immediately the men gave chase. The music accompanying her flight swelled, its tempo quickening. For several minutes it looked as if she’d be caught, but she reached the ruins and disappeared inside. By the time they got there, she had disappeared.

The smaller of the two men watching these events gave a cheer, and even his older companion, a man who didn’t look much inclined to laughter, managed a self-satisfied grin as he switched off the screen.

“Day ten, Avon... she’s going to make it,” the smaller man crowed. “We’ll be rich!”

“Did you doubt it, Vila?” His companion turned pointedly towards him, but before he could say anything further, the door behind him crashed open. A burly, imposing figure stood framed in the aperture, arms akimbo.

“What were you thinking, Avon? What the hell were you thinking?” it demanded, dangerously, but although the smaller man instantly tried to look inconspicuous, the object of this fury stood his ground with imperturbable calm.

“I gather your squeamish conscience doesn’t like my solution?” Avon drawled.

“Solution? How in hell is this a solution? It’s horrific.. barbaric... it’s...”

“Effective?” Vila supplied ingratiatingly. “Since it started, your popularity index has risen 10 points... Two birds with one stone you might say.”

“That’s hardly the point... I accepted the Presidency on the promise of bringing enlightened government to the Federation. Instead we have this.... abomination.”

“Correct me if I misremember, but I seem to recall you forbidding, “absolutely”, that we publicly execute her,” Avon remarked with glacial formality.

“I did... I thought...”

“And,” Avon continued ruthlessly, “Dayna’s suggestion that she challenge her to a fight to the death. Something, for which she has still not forgiven you.”

“I can’t endorse private vendettas Avon...”

“Further, you refused to heed Orac’s prediction that if you simply incarcerated her she would prove a magnet for every psychopath objecting to your policy of educating deltas and granting any remaining Aurona full Earth citizenship...”

“It’s a computer, Avon. We can’t have it dictating policy.”

“So, as your Chief Security Advisor,” Avon continued as if the interruption had not taken place, “I took matters into my own hands.”

“It’s day ten, Avon... she’s still at large. The population has taken to her. They’re even helping her evade the trackers, so there’s every chance she’ll make it to the end and be in a position to claim the prize. What do I do then, hmmmm?

“Do you think me a fool, Blake? She survives only because I planned it so. Those “helpful” citizens were selected by Vila here, and given the resources to ensure she evades capture. She was infected with a slow acting virus before the start of the hunt. It should start kicking in in earnest just after she wins and, despite the best efforts of your medics, she will, unfortunately, fail to recover from it. You will arrange a state funeral for her and magnanimously arrange for the prize money to be given to her next of kin. Popularity ensured, you will, virtually unanimously, be voted in for a second term.”

“Ohhh... well... I suppose in that case. Who is her next of kin by the way?”

A slight pause ensued and then Vila supplied, “Some nonentity. She married him, oh about... umm... ”

“About two years ago,” Avon supplied. “About the time she returned to Earth. New identity. We were monitoring Sleer and Servalan and she slipped under Orac’s surveillance beam for a while...”

+A very short while,+ The Perspex box in front of the vid screen spoke abruptly, the rhythm of its flashing lights conveying its annoyance.

“ Oh yes, Orac. She didn’t fool you for long. You soon found her out.”

+It became obvious when I discovered that you two had...+

“ We were happy to help, weren’t we Avon?” Orac subsided with a frustrated whine as Vila deftly removed its key.

“What? Oh yes...”

“Team work you see, Blake. That’s what you’ve got in us. A successful team. My contacts, Orac’s intelligence and Avon’s... Avon’s...”

“Killer instinct?” Avon interjected.

“I was going to say homicidal paranoia... but I suppose killer instinct covers it.”

“When you’ve quite finished with the mutual admiration, I’d be grateful if you’d tell me the name of this nonentity that I’m about to make one of the richest Citizens of New Earth?” Blake enquired impatiently. “I’ve an Empire to run.”

Avon and Vila assumed identically innocent expressions.

“Nova Latser...” they chorused.
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
Wow, Anniew! What a great ficlet! It’s such a chilling glimpse of what could have happened- and the horrid thought that the regime replacing the Federation may not have been much better. It sounds weird, I know, but I am sort of glad that Blake didn’t succeed; it would have been heartbreaking to see such a good man becoming corrupted.

On a lighter note I am seriously relieved to know that you have been thinking along similar lines as me- I am so glad that I’m not the only one who came up with an idea like this- I wrote it with a mixture of enjoyment and shame. I’d love to read your one!
Edited by GanMiniMe on 08 February 2020 09:22:47
Thanks Ganminime. I’m glad you enjoyed it (sort of). I had intended it as a light hearted romp but I think I must have watched Orbit before I wrote it! Not sure it does Blake justice tbh. Hope I get the other one finished but I’ve a bit of a block trying to condense the idea. (Which isn’t very original but could take ages to unravel so we’ll have to see!)
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.

Love Island Planet is one of those vidcasts that attracts huge excitement, but where not much actually really happens. This means that the exploits of the Scorpio’s crew that week can be summed up fairly quickly.

Soolin did not last the day; she shut herself in her room, leaving the indignant viewers wondering why she was even there. Most thought she was in it for the potential for modelling opportunities. This was a common practice, but even so the contestants were still expected to play along. The fact that she was signed up by a man who at the time she had not met, and was filling in for a woman who had since died was not explained. She was voted off that evening. Back on board the Scorpio she had hoped to be free of it, but was annoyed to discover that Orac insisted on keeping up with all the vidcasts, even the discussions and repeats.

Vila got sunburnt that first day and spent most of the evening trying to persuade women to rub after-sun into his back. He was not successful. It was not clear whether he gave up at that point or simply forgot the object of the exercise, but he seemed to spend most of the rest of the week in the cocktail bar.

Although the oldest by about fifteen years, Avon quickly found himself the focus of four or five girls’ attention. He refused to change into anything more comfortable, but ended up sat on the edge of a sun lounger explaining the basics of artificial intelligence to them with a surprising degree of patience. But his unwillingness to talk about anything else meant that they soon lost interest.

All except one; the lithe, dark-haired, dark-eyed Natasha was not put off. She didn’t know much about computers; in truth, she didn’t know much about anything at all, but this wasn’t as annoying as Avon might have expected. She was happy to listen to him, and better still she seemed instinctively to know when he wasn’t in a talkative mood, and sat with him in companiable silence.

Dayna and Tarrant could not keep up their pretence for more than about a day. After that Dayna met somebody called Danny who loved mixed martial arts and they spent the whole time sparring. This elicited sympathy for Tarrant from two girls, but when he started unscrupulously playing them off against one another in the hope of causing a cat-fight, they both suddenly decided that they were much more interested in each other. His ego dented a second time, Tarrant was voted off.

Dayna followed suit shortly afterwards, after Danny, probably jokingly, told her she punched like a girl. She was saved from disciplinary action by a shamefaced Danny, who vigorously insisted that he had broken his arm by falling badly on it. The viewers were not fooled.

As the hot weather intensified, Avon conceded to remove his jacket. He was voted off on the second-to-last day, but not before Natasha, with surprisingly little persuasion, got him to take his boots off and walk barefoot on the warm sand with her. He had to admit privately that there was a pleasure in the simplicity of this activity, but that if any of the others ever mentioned this moment they would be met with an unfortunate mishap with the airlock shortly afterwards.

After he left, Natasha became the object of Adrian’s interest, but he dropped her like a maggoty apple when she told him that if she won she would spend the money on studying computer science.

By the end of the week there were two couples left. One pair looked set to win the prize until the last day when the media outlets sensationally reported that evidence had emerged that they had actually been married for three years. They were duly disqualified and the other couple won by default.

And so it was that, on the final evening, the crew of the Scorpio sat staring open-mouthed at the view screen as Vila Restal was declared the winner of Love Island Planet -and, of course, Mindy the cocktail waitress.

It was the greatest achievement of Vila’s life; but it would have to be preserved in his somewhat unreliable memory as it later transpired that all vidcasts relating to that contest had been mysteriously and irrevocably wiped from the archives.

With thanks to Laura.
Annie, could those two just possibly be up to something? Blake will not be pleased if he finds out! It’s hilarious yet worrying at the same time.

(As for my coal scuttle, they do say truth is stranger than fiction.)

GanMiniMe, Vila won? And Servalan didn’t turn up two minutes later to spoil it all? Now there is a turn-up for the books! Smile
Ha ha ha, yes, I just couldn’t resist. I like to think that Servalan was watching along, but as the island planet was afforded neutral status and the outcome is decided by the viewers rather than judges, even she wouldn’t have been able to interfere.

For the sake of keeping it an acceptable length I didn’t cover the aftermath(!) of that week, but I imagined that once the contest was over the protection afforded to guests and participants would have been revoked and they would have had to get out of there pretty sharpish...

Anniew, I think your story does very good justice to Blake. It shows that he still has principles, and there are still lines he is reluctant to cross. At the same time he wasn’t always a saint himself. I share Stormypetrel’s alarm at that pair being in cahoots...
As a follow on from last month’s two parter, here is another two part story combining both prompts and featuring another lovely piccie by Lurena.
I'm afraid I don't watch these Reality Shows, so you'll just have to imagine what actually transpired.......


Lust for Glory

There was no doubt about it: that Brandy had been very, very potent. And now all he had was this empty bottle.
Vila sighed.
He’d only sampled a few gulps…his scheme to get Avon to unbend a little had gone just too well.
Mind you, Avon hadn’t mentioned the incident, but his silent angry stare each time Vila had crossed his path was enough to convince Vila that the man had some faint memory of what had transpired in that deserted bar.
He sighed again and placed the bottle on the table in front of him, “I wonder where this bottle came from?”
Vila sat up with a start as Zen’s ‘voice’ boomed round the Flight Deck.
“Well yes, if you could that would be nice...I mean helpful.”
And so Vila placed the bottle under the transparent dome and waited for Zen to work his magic.
“What are you doing Vila?”
Vila span round. If there was one thing that annoyed him the most…well almost, was Avon’s ability to creep up on someone without them hearing him.
“So why is THAT bottle anywhere near Zen?”
“You know, if you hadn’t been so eager to let me imbibe that Brandy, you may have been able to sample a lot more for yourself. But you needn’t concern yourself with the bottle’s origins…”
“Why’s that?”
“…Because Zen has already provided me with the information…”
“Well? Come on Avon, don’t keep it to yourself.”
“Unfortunately the original producer has ceased to exist, but there are still some extant bottles out there.”
“Really?” Vila’s eyes were wide open now and the thought of being able drink some more of that amber liquid was suddenly making him feel very thirsty.
“Is it that important to you?” Avon asked, seating himself on one of the forward couches.
“Look, you lust after wealth and I lust after….well other things.”
“We had noticed.”
Vila could hardly contain himself as he seated himself opposite Avon who was now sitting with his arms folded and wearing that superior expression of his.
“Well, where are they?”
“One is quite close by. But it is outside the Federation’s jurisdiction.”
“Good. So we …I can just go and fetch it can’t I? I’m willing to pay a good price for it, as long as you don’t tell them that it is one of the last of its kind.”
“Well, let’s get the Liberator moving. That Brandy might not be there for much longer…”
“I’m afraid, it’s not as simple as that,” Avon sighed, “There’s a catch………..”


Reality Check

“A what?” Vila asked, filled with consternation.
“A televised Reality Show,” Avon explained, “Contestants have to go through many trials and tribulations…and the first prize, among other things, is a bottle of that elusive Brandy.”
“I’ll do it, “Vila announced “…What sort of trials and tribulations?”

Somehow, Vila persuaded Gan, Cally, Blake and even Avon to teleport down to the planet to take part in the Reality Show. They were a late entry, but no-one questioned their sudden appearance,
“I’ll stay here,” Jenna had said, “After all, this show is beamed live and the Federation monitoring system just may pick up the broadcast and send ships out to apprehend you all. You may need to make a quick getaway…”

And that was indeed the case.
An alert Federation official spotted the new contestants and immediately informed his superiors. They didn’t hesitate…nor did they question why the official was watching a televised Reality Show from another part of the Galaxy not yet under Federation control.

And true to her word, Jenna teleported them out of trouble only to be met by some very angry questions…notably from Avon, who looked as if he had been dragged through a hedge backwards, as indeed he had.
“Where is he?” Avon demanded, and then noticed that Jenna was sipping something from a glass.
“Champagne,” she informed him, “Don’t you just love this glass? It’s called a Champagne Flute…and Vila is on the Flight Deck.”
“What? He was supposed to be with us!”
“So I understand. There was a slight change of plan…”
“I bet there was…” seethed Avon, storming out of the Teleport bay.
“I don’t know why he’s so angry,” Gan said, “I quite enjoyed myself. Did you Cally?”
“It was nice to put my Guerrilla skills to good use again.”
“Well, it was certainly different,” Blake announced, “But maybe just too different for some people. Come on, I think trouble is brewing on the Flight Deck.”

“Well, hello!” Vila beamed, raising the small balloon shaped glass, “It worked perfectly.”
Avon stopped dead, eyeing Vila and the bottle of Brandy, clutched in his hand. “What worked perfectly?”
“The diversionary tactic. The producers were so enthralled watching you four that they didn’t notice me helping myself to this bottle and all this food. Come on; help yourself…maybe once you’ve cleaned yourselves up.”
“You had no intention teleporting down with us, did you?”
“Orac worked it out for me.”
“Did it now….”
Blake joined them, “What’s all this?”
“First prize...and I even managed something extra for you all, apart from this dazzling array of food. Champagne for the ladies…well something called J2O for Cally; Orange and Passion Fruit by the way. For Gan some Cider; Blake I managed to pick a selection of beer for you…which leaves Avon.”
Avon was still stunned, watching as the others picked up their bottles.
“For you Avon, a special selection of bottled water…”
“I think we should all do as Vila suggests,” Blake began, “Get cleaned up.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Vila smiled, taking another sip of the Brandy, “Cheers!”
Cold.....you don't know the meaning of cold.
Cold is when you have ice on the INSIDE of the window!!!

sues stories http://sjlittle.w...
sues youtube channel http://www.youtub...e54/videos
sues book shelf https://www.media...ne%20Shelf
rebel run video http://www.youtub...prqS-XZtLo
Lara and Sue's Stories http://lectorisal....webs.com/
Lol, Littlesue! But how did Avon come to be dragged through a hedge backwards and by whom? I really want to know!!! And nothing to show for it but bottled water? That has to sting...
GanMiniMe wrote:

Lol, Littlesue! But how did Avon come to be dragged through a hedge backwards and by whom? I really want to know!!! And nothing to show for it but bottled water? That has to sting...

As I've said, I never watched any of these reality shows so I've no idea who or what dragged Avon through a hedge backwards!!!Grin
Cold.....you don't know the meaning of cold.
Cold is when you have ice on the INSIDE of the window!!!

sues stories http://sjlittle.w...
sues youtube channel http://www.youtub...e54/videos
sues book shelf https://www.media...ne%20Shelf
rebel run video http://www.youtub...prqS-XZtLo
Lara and Sue's Stories http://lectorisal....webs.com/
Lol my imagination is having a fun time speculating...
GanMiniMe wrote:

Lol my imagination is having a fun time speculating...

We aim to please........Grin
Cold.....you don't know the meaning of cold.
Cold is when you have ice on the INSIDE of the window!!!

sues stories http://sjlittle.w...
sues youtube channel http://www.youtub...e54/videos
sues book shelf https://www.media...ne%20Shelf
rebel run video http://www.youtub...prqS-XZtLo
Lara and Sue's Stories http://lectorisal....webs.com/
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