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August 2020 Ficlet Challenge
purplecleric
‘I consider Blake to be responsible. Oh, not personally, of course; but stories of his exploits are still circulating. They excite people. The fact that he is still free gives them hope. And that is dangerous, Travis. Hope is very dangerous.’ Servalan - Project Avalon

The word prompt this month is … HOPE

A feeling of expectation and desire for a particular thing to happen, a person or thing that may help or save someone or grounds for believing that something good may happen. Not a lot of hope in the B7 universe. Maybe you can find some?

And for the second challenge: the crew suddenly realise their survival depended upon ...
What? It’s up to you.
 
trevor travis
HOPE

Every day Tev Dareen lived in hope. The hope that Roj Blake and the Liberator would save him and his people from the tyranny of the Terran Federation. And now the Liberator was here, orbiting the planet Zaroxin, of which Dareen was puppet ruler.

Even the after-effects of the Intergalactic and Galactic Wars had not shaken off the Federation rule on Zaroxin – the mineral Jadesthyst 576 was simply too valuable to them, it provided almost ever-lasting fuel to Federation ships.

But now Blake was here…

Even though Dareen had not seen Blake yet. Just Avon. But Dareen knew Kerr Avon was the trusty lieutenant and right-hand man of Blake.

“Avon, do you promise that you and Blake will free us from the Federation?”, he asked the man in leather and studs.

“Now then, Dareen. I gave my word. If you can give the Liberator a sufficient supply of Jadesthyst 576 - just 7.3 kilos would suffice - then I will free you from the Federation.”

“I would require to see Roj Blake first.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible. Blake picked up an injury during the Intergalactic War and is now ship bound. He directs our operations from the ship.”

He saw the question forming on Darren’s lips and added: “And before you ask, it isn’t possible for you to board Liberator, we’ve learnt our lesson from past experience. And I’m afraid I must hurry you - it won’t take long for the Federation to work out we are here, especially with their own Kommissar on this planet.”

Dareen came to a decision. “I accept, Avon”, he enthused and shook Avon warmly by the hand, much to Avon’s discomfort.

***

“And they just gave us the Jadesthyst 576 without wanting anything in return?”. Tarrant was amazed.

“Apparently, it was enough for them to be giving the mineral to the famous Liberator. I don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

Cally looked puzzled. “Avon, they do know Blake is no longer part of the crew?”

She suspected the worst once he changed the subject. “I suggest we leave as soon as possible, before Federation ships work out where we are. Zen, standard by eight. Get us out of here."

++CONFIRMED++

***

Some hours later, Avon was alone on the flight deck. Zen intoned: ++INFORMATION, A FEDERATION CRUISER IS HEADING TO THE PLANET ZAROXIN++

Avon mulled over that information. That would be Servalan’s ship. It wouldn’t take her long to find out that Dareen had given Jadesthyst 576 to the Liberator.

Soon Dareen would be free just as Avon has promised. But not in quite the way he was anticipating.

Avon smiled.

THE END

Edited by trevor travis on 01 August 2020 17:50:13
 
littlesue
Dear TT, please give us oldies a chance to actually sit down in front of our keyboard and come up with an idea!!!
But saying that...very chilling...
Cold.....you don't know the meaning of cold.
Cold is when you have ice on the INSIDE of the window!!!


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GanMiniMe
Ooh, Trevor Travis, that was great!
 
Travisina
Excellent, TT. Neat idea, good dialogue. Very Avon!

I also liked spotting the little continuity touches - the 7.3 kilos (1/10 of a Vila?), and Avon's discomfort at having his hand shaken!
Twitter: @TravisinaB7
Tumblr: tumblr
A statement of fact cannot be insolent
 
GanMiniMe
Where There is Life

He did not know how long he had been staring at the ceiling. He didn’t want to turn onto his right side; there was a window but when he looked at it all he could see was his own reflection. He turned onto his left side instead, clenching his face against the pain. His arm was burning, as if hundreds of boiling hot termites were munching it down to the bone.
His attention was diverted by the middle-aged man who had just walked to the nurses’ station. He picked up his jacket and for a moment the wounded man was amused by the sight of him trying, and failing, to put his arm through the sleeve. He gave up and slung it casually over his shoulder; at that moment their eyes met. He tried to look away again but it was too late- he was already coming over.

“Travis?” No answer. No surprise there.
“My name is Mr. Dochelli. I am a cyber surgeon. Dr. Marriott asked me to speak to you.”
“I don’t want surgery.” Came the reply through gritted teeth. Dochelli chose to let the moment draw out for a minute or two.

“You’re going to live,” he said peremptorily. “But you already knew that.”
“Did I?” It was a rhetorical question but Dochelli answered it anyway.
“Yes. You wouldn’t have been referred to me otherwise. The Federation doesn’t waste resources on people who won’t survive. Have you given any thought to what you will do once you are well enough to leave?”
Of course he had. It was all he’d thought about for the past four days and five nights.
Dochelli sat back and gazed out of the window for a moment.

“Imagine that the events of a few days ago hadn’t happened.” This was met with a short, harsh bark of mirthless laughter.
“I’m serious. Think back. What did you want to be? How far did you want to go?” Travis didn’t want to answer.

“Do you know your history, Travis?”
Is this a joke? He thought.
“Have you ever heard of Nelson? He was the greatest naval hero of the pre-Federation era. He lost an eye, and an arm-“ his eye flitted over the bandage covering one side of Travis’ face, and the empty sleeve lying limply on the bed. “And, oddly enough, he also suffered terribly with seasickness. Imagine that! The greatest admiral in history used to get seasick! Everything was against him, Travis. But he was still an outstanding commander and a national hero.”
Travis wished Dochelli would go away and take his motivational lecture with him. Easy enough to be optimistic sitting there with two arms and two eyes and no pain, what did he know about how horribly, disgustingly helpless it felt to be here? A week ago Travis would have broken his arm and given him a black eye, just as a taster of how it felt.
“In those days, prosthetics were primitive. Legs would be made of wood, eyes would be made out of glass... for those who could afford them. I do not fit wooden legs or glass eyes. We have come quite a way since then.”
“What is the point? I can’t return to the military.”
“Why not?”
“To qualify as a Federation soldier you need to be able to use a rifle. For that you need two fully articulating hands.”
“Not necessarily. There are exemptions-“
”I do not want to be an exception!” Travis snarled, his blood rapidly reaching boiling point. Dochelli stopped for a moment and Travis turned onto his other side. He could see his mutilated reflection; he could also still see Dochelli.

“You would not need to use a rifle; you would be the rifle.”
Travis’ good eye met Dochelli’s gaze reflected in the window. Dochelli continued.

“The regulations were amended last year to reflect advances in cybernetic prosthetics. If you can demonstrate that your new arm enhances your performance rather than limits it, you may continue in your current role. You can get one that was stronger than the original, less susceptible to damage, it can even modified to contain a weapon. Our resources are stretched thinly, and the results won’t be very pretty- but if you want to you can get transferred back to Earth for cosmetic work afterwards.”
Dochelli was finally getting up to leave. Travis didn’t speak but deep down he found he wanted him to stay a little longer.
“Think it over. We can talk more tomorrow.”

As he turned to go, Dochelli felt he had reason to hope that, the next day, Travis may be more forthcoming.
Edited by GanMiniMe on 04 August 2020 11:55:31
 
mrsbookmark
Wow TT. That was very much dark Avon.
GanMiniMe: I like having a Travis story. this is good in a Stephen Grief voice.
 
meegat39
trevor travis wrote:

HOPE

Every day Tev Dareen lived in hope. The hope that Roj Blake and the Liberator would save him and his people from the tyranny of the Terran Federation. And now the Liberator was here, orbiting the planet Zaroxin, of which Dareen was puppet ruler.

Even the after-effects of the Intergalactic and Galactic Wars had not shaken off the Federation rule on Zaroxin – the mineral Jadesthyst 576 was simply too valuable to them, it provided almost ever-lasting fuel to Federation ships.

But now Blake was here…

Even though Dareen had not seen Blake yet. Just Avon. But Dareen knew Kerr Avon was the trusty lieutenant and right-hand man of Blake.

“Avon, do you promise that you and Blake will free us from the Federation?”, he asked the man in leather and studs.

“Now then, Dareen. I gave my word. If you can give the Liberator a sufficient supply of Jadesthyst 576 - just 7.3 kilos would suffice - then I will free you from the Federation.”

“I would require to see Roj Blake first.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible. Blake picked up an injury during the Intergalactic War and is now ship bound. He directs our operations from the ship.”

He saw the question forming on Darren’s lips and added: “And before you ask, it isn’t possible for you to board Liberator, we’ve learnt our lesson from past experience. And I’m afraid I must hurry you - it won’t take long for the Federation to work out we are here, especially with their own Kommissar on this planet.”

Dareen came to a decision. “I accept, Avon”, he enthused and shook Avon warmly by the hand, much to Avon’s discomfort.

***

“And they just gave us the Jadesthyst 576 without wanting anything in return?”. Tarrant was amazed.

“Apparently, it was enough for them to be giving the mineral to the famous Liberator. I don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

Cally looked puzzled. “Avon, they do know Blake is no longer part of the crew?”

She suspected the worst once he changed the subject. “I suggest we leave as soon as possible, before Federation ships work out where we are. Zen, standard by eight. Get us out of here."

++CONFIRMED++

***

Some hours later, Avon was alone on the flight deck. Zen intoned: ++INFORMATION, A FEDERATION CRUISER IS HEADING TO THE PLANET ZAROXIN++

Avon mulled over that information. That would be Servalan’s ship. It wouldn’t take her long to find out that Dareen had given Jadesthyst 576 to the Liberator.

Soon Dareen would be free just as Avon has promised. But not in quite the way he was anticipating.

Avon smiled.

THE END


I rarely read any of the fan fics on here, but read this one. Very good TT!! Suitably sinister and Avon at his most self serving best (or worst?!)
GARETH THOMAS: Paul is a very generous man, as a human being and as an actor. The programme couldn’t have been made if we hadn’t got on. Our working relationship was magic.
 
stormypetrel
Now, where were we last month? Vila might have been going to let the others out of that cell... or he might not...

* * *


“Just get us out, Vila,” said Avon.

There was no point in arguing with that. Vila, suddenly too tired to be angry, poked experimentally at the lock on the grating between himself and the others. Not a complicated one, but awkwardly positioned. Nor did the impatient silence from above make working on it any easier.

“Hurry up.”

“All right!” Twisted uncomfortably to reach the lock, Vila sighed. Hope still conjured up a picture of a swift and easy rescue leading to unalloyed expressions of gratitude from the others, followed by an immediate return to the comfort and safety of the Liberator, and maybe a drink. Experience told him he would probably be disappointed.

“Today, Vila!” It was Tarrant who confirmed his thoughts.

“All right. There, it’s open.” He handed through the teleport bracelets he was carrying, then realised Tarrant was beckoning him upwards himself. “Me? You don’t want me up there. I’d never fit through that gap.” Vila looked critically at the hole where he had removed the grating. “It’s a monkey you’d want... or a child...”

“I’m sure you’re a reasonable substitute,” said Tarrant. “Now come on. We still need that relay connector, and we can’t get to it unless you come and open this cell door.”

Vila looked at Avon. “Since when is he in charge?”

“You are our self-proclaimed expert on locks,” Avon pointed out.

“Come on, Vila,” added Dayna encouragingly. “They say you’ll fit through any gap that’s big enough for your head to get through.”

Vila debated whether to suggest that Tarrant would have no chance with this one, then, and decided that it probably wasn’t worth it. Reluctantly, he handed his gun up to Avon, and squeezed painfully through the opening after it. He sat on the edge of the hole, looking sick and shivery, and waited.

“You seem to have managed after all,” remarked Avon, helping him to his feet. “Now; can you open that?”

Vila inspected the cell door unenthusiastically.

“Do I have to? Orac’s ready...” He stopped as he caught Avon’s expression. “Yes.”

“And then you had better go back to the ship,” put in Cally. Vila showed a faint flicker of renewed hope at this; then he remembered Orac’s experiments with Zen’s defences, and drooped again.

“Not on my own,” he said, imagining the flight deck littered with the remains of Servalan’s men.

“You’ll have Orac,” said Dayna.

“That’s what worries me.”

“And you’re not going to be any use down here, staggering about in that state,” added Tarrant.

“Whose fault’s that?” demanded Vila, pausing to glare at him. Tarrant flushed.

“Well, Cally can go back with you, then.”

“Once you have opened the door,” said Avon pointedly. Vila went back to work, but with slightly less reluctance than before. Maybe not all hope had been extinguished; he could settle for being allowed to sleep in peace until he was feeling better, while Cally took care of the Liberator’s defences. If the others wanted to go chasing their relay connector, good luck to them...

“Open,” he answered, sounding almost cheerful. “Orac? Two to teleport!”
 
stormypetrel
Great stories, TT and GanMiniMe. I do like seeing how different people’s ideas are considering we’ve all got the same prompt!
 
Travisina
Excellent story, GanMM.

And well done, StormyP for your latest installment being entertaining and prompt-following!
Twitter: @TravisinaB7
Tumblr: tumblr
A statement of fact cannot be insolent
 
GanMiniMe
Thanks everybody! I’m glad you enjoyed it!

Great entry, Stormypetrel! I absolutely love the dialogue between the characters! I hope (!!) that Vila’s desire for a bit of peace and quiet is realised... but somehow I doubt it. Looking forward to what comes next.
 
Annie
Some lovely stories this month. Chilling, clever and fun. Thank you all. I’ve been very cheered to read them.
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
 
Annie
Loosely related to the second prompt.


She woke to the sound of whispering and left her cabin to investigate. Adjusting her eyes to the dim, green glow of the corridor, she heard it again, a faint, persistent rustle. Was that a moon disc slithering towards Cally’s door? Jenna watched as it paused, chittered some more, and then the door swung open silently to admit it. Returning to her room she stood on the remains of what looked like a rodent, skin only, its insides completely scooped out.

Cally, when questioned the following morning, professed to know nothing about what might have occurred. In fact she accused Jenna of having dreamed the whole thing. The look she gave her as she did so was venomous, and so unlike Cally as to startle Jenna into withdrawing without comment. The moon disc in its sandbox chittered and whispered as she left. Jenna took to locking her door at night.

Nothing further happened for three days. And then Cally announced to the crew, with beaming pride, that the moon disc had reproduced. She displayed the sand tray, full now of tiny little moon discs slithering through the sand. Moon discs reproduced through a process known as fission, she explained. It only happened when the environmental conditions they were experiencing were favourable; a good supply of food for example. “What do they eat?” Jenna asked? “This and that,” Cally replied vaguely. The moon discs chittered to each other.

Something was eating its way through the rodent population on the Liberator. Gan mentioned finding several eviscerated corpses in the forward hanger. “Good,” said Avon. “They were getting out of control.” “But would they be eating each other.? Gan asked doubtfully. “Rats do that,” Vila explained from the depths of his experience in Delta slums. In Cally’s cabin, the moon discs chittered and reproduced again.

Gan was missing. Eventually, they tracked down what was left of him in one of the washrooms. Vila was promptly sick. “Could rats do this?” Blake wondered. “Probably,” Avon supplied. “I said they were getting out of hand.” “Have you considered the moon discs?” Jenna asked. “Nonsense,” Cally snapped. “They’re a friendly species.” “It seems unlikely,” Blake agreed. “I’ll put down rat poison, and Vila, you can clear up this mess,” Avon stated in a tone that brooked no argument. Vila was sick again.

They were running out of sand trays. The moon disc murmurs were an ever present susurration as their members increased exponentially. “Soothing,” Cally claimed. It drove Jenna mad. When they discovered Vila, or rather Vila’s leg in the galley, she insisted that Blake and Avon took her concerns about the creatures seriously, “Before its too late,” she begged, an edge of hysteria in her normally rational tone. Cally asked how Jenna thought that a creature with no teeth could inflict the damage they’d seen on living flesh. “It’s more likely to be one of us,” she said. “Or an alien that’s infiltrated us. Or rats.” The surviving crew members looked at each other warily. “We could ask Zen,” Avon suggested.

Zen announced it could detect no alien life forms aboard the Liberator. “Not even Moon discs?” Avon queried. +No alien life forms.+ repeated Zen. “Something or someone is picking us off, one by one,” Avon pressed. +I have no information pertaining to that.+ Zen replied. “Is it one of us?” Blake wondered aloud. The lights on the flight deck shivered. “It’s rats, it has to be,” said Avon. “Moon discs,” muttered Jenna. “If it is, then you’ll be the next on their list, won’t you!” said Cally. “We should ask Orac for his opinion” Blake decided. ‘It’s opinion,” corrected Avon. The flight deck plunged into abrupt darkness.

“Where’s Blake?” Jenny asked as the lights came on again and Avon thankfully threw down his probe. “I’m not his keeper,” he snapped. “He’s probably gone to his cabin.” The lighting wasn’t at full strength and they all drew together as the shadows seemed to close in. “He wouldn’t do that,” Jenna quavered. “He’s mortal,” Avon remarked sarcastically. “Even your beloved leader needs to pee.” He thrust the key with some force into Orac. Jenna coloured slightly and then jumped as the device buzzed into life. “Well?” it demanded irascibly. “You may have noticed that our numbers are dwindling,” Avon remarked, with what Jenna thought was an all too satisfied grin. “Now Blake is missing too. Do you have anything that might illuminate what is going on, or what we should do about it?” “Find Blake,” Orac replied. “And all will become clear.”

“I can’t believe Blake has anything to do with this,”Jenna protested as the three cautiously left the flight deck and began exploring. “Of course not, it’s rats,” Cally scoffed. “Or Avon,” she whispered as he forged ahead, opening doors and then jumping sideways, theatrically. “You know, I’ve been thinking that too,” Jenna hissed.

After a long, Blakeless search they were tired. “Let’s call it a night,” Cally suggested. “Good idea,” Avon agreed. “Make sure you both lock yourselves in.” “Like that would keep him out,” Cally whispered again.

Jenna pulled her desk in front of the door. She lay on her bed for a while but it was hot and sweaty in her cabin. Sliding out of her day clothes, she put on her night robe and made for the bathroom. Her screams reverberated through the Liberator.

After the difficult process of breaking into her cabin, Avon chucked a teleport bracelet on to what remained of Blake and ordered Zen to transport it into space while Cally did her best to calm down the hysterical Jenna. “Zen,” Avon enquired brusquely,” have you disposed of B... the remains?” he amended hastily, as Jenna let out another agonised whimper. + Confirmed+. “Then I have another task. Where is the nearest habitable planet, that it’s safe for us to land on?” A short pause, and Zen answered, +The planet Zaphalia meets those conditions.+ “Excellent. Estimated travel time?” +Twelve Earth hours.+. “Set an immediate course for Zaphalia. Inform us when we arrive. Once we have teleported down, shut down all life support systems and begin fumigation of the entire ship. No countermands.”

“Wait a minute, Avon. That’s very high handed, of you.” Cally was indignant, a pugnacious flush colouring her cheeks. “You’re welcome to stay on board, but I’m not letting either of you, or a gang of killer rats, get me,” he replied sternly. “W..what makes you think we might be involved?” Jenna quavered. “Well, it’s certainly not me! I’m off to bed. I suggest you get some sleep and meet me at the teleport, in,” he consulted his wrist watch, “eleven hours, fifty four minutes. Don’t be late. And lock your door,” he added as an after-thought.

“Do you really want to teleport down to an unknown planet with Avon,” Cally asked after he’d left.

“Do we have a choice? He’s either saved us or stitched us up nicely. Anyway, I’ll be going armed so he’ll have to be quick to take us both.”

Exhausted between bouts of weeping and worrying, Jenna eventually fell asleep. When she woke and checked her chronometer, she was horrified to discover that some twenty hours had passed. But the atmosphere in her cabin appeared to be stable. “Zen,” she called out. “Status report!” After an unaccustomed delay, Zen stated in slightly slurred accents, “All’s fine here babe. Just chilling...” Alarmed she tried again. “Zen? Where are we?” +Just hanging, babe. Wow. Look at that nebula. The lights, man. I can see... eternity.+

Armed to the teeth, Jenna cautiously opened her door and inched her way to Avon’s cabin. The door hung open. There was no sign of the tec. “Zen,” she demanded sharply, “Where is Avon?” Another long pause and then, what sounded like a giggle, and Zen muttered, + All over the place.+

Orac was on the desk, key beside him. “Orac, something’s wrong with Zen,” she said, slamming in his key, ”what’s going on?” “I am contemplating the infinite universe,” it answered prissily. “You should try it, Jenna. Expand your limited mind.”

“Cally?” Jenna pressed the button on her bracelet and spoke softly. “Are you ok, Cally? Zen and Orac have gone mad and I can’t find Avon.” Almost instantly Cally’s bright voice replied, “He’s with me, Jenna. Everything’s fine now. Why don’t you join us?”

Jenna burst into Cally’s cabin, gun at the ready and then stood transfixed at the sight. “What the hell?” she demanded.

Cally lay on her bed in her white dress, surrounded and covered by tiny moon discs. Another group were gathered around what looked like a hand, slurping gently.

“W...what’s going on, Cally.”

“You’re gun won’t work in here, Jenna,” Cally answered with a sinister smile. “Welcome. You’re just in time for the feast.”
Just because I can't sing doesn't mean I won't.
 
Travisina
Blimey, Annie! That's... dark. Wow.
Twitter: @TravisinaB7
Tumblr: tumblr
A statement of fact cannot be insolent
 
Ellen York
Evil moon discs, I am now thoroughly creeped out Sad Hope I don't hear any rustling in the dark tonight.
 
GanMiniMe
Uuurgh! How horribly, gruesomely brilliant, Anniew! I love moon disks but I think you may have just put me off them.

And a reminder to the people who didn’t like the way our protagonists met their end- it could have been much, much worse...
 
stormypetrel
Annie, that should have come with a health warning! I want to sleep with the light on now!
 
stormypetrel
Now, on a lighter note...


Jenna turned up the dial on her thermal suit, and looked firmly at Blake.

“This can’t go on,” she said, trying not to let her teeth chatter.

“I know,” Blake agreed. He glanced round the flight deck, wondering which of his crew was likely to succumb to hypothermia first, and sneezed. “Zen! Can’t you override the controls?”

+Negative+

Even Zen sounded chilly. Cally was trying not to shiver, despite her own thermal suit; Vila was apparently too cold even to complain yet again that he was freezing; and Avon... Avon was still in the kitchen.

“Perhaps it will be fixed soon,” suggested Cally hopefully.

“We’re hardly going to get a service engineer out here!” Blake began pacing; if nothing else, it was marginally warmer if they moved about.

“Then we’ll have to get a new one!” Jenna tried to turn her suit up another notch, only to find it was already on its maximum setting. “It doesn’t look like Avon can fix it. If he’s even trying...”

“He must be as cold as the rest of us,” said Cally.

“Cold?” Vila was shivering so much he could hardly get the word out, but he made an effort. “It’s not cold, it’s freezing...”

“Then get up and move. You will only get colder sitting still.”

“Do I have to? I’m tired... an’ you’re making me dizzy, walking round in circles like that...” His complaints tailed off sleepily, only to be followed by a squawk of protest as Blake jerked him to his feet and began to walk him round the flight deck. “What...”

“We can’t go to sleep.”

“Or we might not wake back up,” added Jenna grimly. “Vila’s right. The whole ship is acting as one big freezer.” She learn over to the communicator switch. “Avon, are you done yet?”

“Does it look like it?” came the answer.

“It looks like you’re trying to freeze us to death.”

“What a tempting suggestion. I could work in peace then.”

Cally took over. “Avon, Jenna is right. We cannot stand this much longer.”

“Then I suggest you stop interrupting me. I can do nothing about the atmospheric settings of the ship until this is fixed, if the contents are to be preserved.” Communication was clearly at an end. Frustrated, but too cold to think clearly about how to remedy the situation, Jenna and Cally rejoined the procession round the flight deck.

“Can’t I just have a rest for a bit?” Vila had a decided blue tinge by now; Blake continued to forcibly walk him about.

“No.”

“How long do you think we’ve got?” asked Jenna.

“I’m not sure.” Blake looked doubtful. “Not long. An hour or two, maybe?”

“There must be something...” Jenna paused suddenly. “Zen! Can we reach Markos in the next hour?”

+C...confirmed,+ said Zen slowly.

“Markos?” inquired Cally.

“It’s a supply base for the Federation Catering Corps.”

“I thought you disliked the idea of interrupting food supplies?” Cally looked puzzled.

“I wasn’t thinking of interrupting anything. But they’re bound to have a working freezer. And since it looks like ours is staying broken, it seems like the only way to save ourselves is to save Avon’s precious ice cream...”
 
littlesue
Yea Gods, Anniew!!! Did you by any chance see that episode of Doomwatch with the Rats?
That scene where one of our heroes opened the door to his girlfriend's flat came to mind. (Apparently, Simon Oates asked not to see what was waiting for him behind the door. The reaction you see is genuine!!!!!)
And Stormy...with regards to Avon and his ice-cream...we appear to be on the same wavelength. Story to follow shortly.......
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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