Family Ties That Bind

gavin cardigan walked into Poor Yorick's Pub, shrugged off his sodden trench coat and placed it on a wooden peg, tossed his fedora on the adjacent peg, and stepped up to the bar.

"what's on the menu tonight, buddy?"

danny blake, Pub proprietor, filled a pint with Guinness and slid it over to him. 

"Guinness-braised short ribs, alongside old-fashioned colcannon."

cardigan took a long sip, allowing the dark-brown malted stout to warm his insides, and nodded.  "sounds perfect.  i'll take a healthy portion, please.  and by healthy, i mean anything but healthy."

he took his pint and headed for his regular table, already surrounded by his regular Pub companions.

"gavin!" 

he felt his insides grow even warmer as foxy charles greeted him with a quick hug and peck on the cheek

"hey, foxy!  what brings you here tonight?"

"i missed my sis, and you guys, too," she answered with a grin.  "and i brought a date!"

"oh."

"hey, cardigan.  long time, no see," said the stunning face that appeared from behind foxy.

"oh, hey Juliet.  nice to see you again," cardigan replied with relief, glaring at sierra charles, who was snickering at him and her crossdressing brother.  "a charles family reunion?"

the Mysterious Lurker appeared suddenly at the table, her sky blue hair blowing in an non-existing wind.  "no, gavin.  juliet is the lead in the touring producting of "Priscilla, Queen of the Dessert!  they're in San Francisco for three weeks."

"i brought tickets for everyone," juliet extended her hand.  "i hope you can make it.  it's for saturday night."

"that sounds great, thanks juliet."  cardigan took his seat at the table, noticing that marian elfman was uncommonly quiet as she poked at her laptop.

"''sup, marian?"

"oh, hi gavin.  i'm trying to figure out which questions to answer in my column," replied the advice columnist.  what do you guys think of this one?"

Dear Marian,
My first cousin on my mother's side is engaged to a wonderful woman.  The problem is, she's my first cousin on my father's side!  Now, obviously they are not related by blood, so there's nothing technically wrong with it, BUT IT'S WRONG!  My first cousins are marrying each other!  Eeewwww!  how i can talk them out this?  I don't even know if I'm supposed to sit on the groom's side or the bride's side.  It's so awkward!''
Signed,
In-laws or Outlaws

"that is...well, a rather interesting question, isn't it?"  sierra noted.

"yes, sierra, i agree," foxy nodded.

"marian, what do you think about it?  it sounds like these people--or this person--really needs your advice," juliet added hurriedly.

marian looked at the three of them with a face of surprise.  "really?  it doesn't seem that complicated to me."

danny blake delivered a steaming plate of short ribs and colcannon in front of cardigan.  "i wonder how often that situation occurs?  i've never heard of it before, but on the other hand, it doesn't sound that outlandish."

"i don't see the problem," cardigan muttered around a mouthful of goodness.

"you not thinking from the author's perspective, cardigan," sierra argued.  "to them--or her or him--that is, it has to be really weird.  these are family members that they--or her or him-- grew up with."

"but different sides of the family.  they wouldn't even be at the same family reunions or christmas parties, right?"  the Lurker pointed out.

"but i can see how it must be awkward for, um, whoever wrote that letter," foxy indicated.  "the couple seems to be rather selfish to get married without thinking of their--or his or her--feelings."

"sounds like great song material," tucker mused, strumming a chord.

     she's my cousin's cousin
     the birds are a' singin' and the bees are a' buzzin' 
     she's my cousin's cousin
     we say we does though my cousin says we doesn't

"that's...awful, tucker."

"i've just started!  wait until i finish this baby.  it'll be great!"  strum strum...

marian scowled.  "they aren't breaking any laws, and love is love.  whoever the author is, i think they--or he, or she--is the one being selfish.  they--or he, or she--shouldn't be so melodramatic!"

as she proclaimed the matter settled with her signature tagline, the three charles family members gave a barely audible hmph.

cardigan, always the detective, noticed and raised his eyebrows.  "hey. wait a minute--"

"gavin, you'll be my date to juliet's show on saturday, won't you?"  foxy grabbed his arm and leaned in close.  "we can get a limo, make a night of it.  what do you say?"

"what?  date?  me?  um, yeah, that....that sounds great."  cardigan was suddenly flustered.  "wait, a limo?"

"i know a guy with a limo!" the tuxedo-clad Lurker exclaimed.  "i can drive."

"woohoo!"

danny delivered another round to the table.  "something wrong, gavin?"

"no....no, i just...what?"

danny smirked, gathered the empty glasses, and shook his head as he headed back to the bar.

DM it, marian!

gavin cardigan walked into the Pub, hanging his coat, fedora, and scarf on the wall.

"you're looking at a mighty hungry man tonight, danny.  what've you got for me?"

danny blake poured him a pint of Guinness and replied, "chai boey."

"um...what's that?"

"a mustard greens stew, with pork belly."

cardigan nodded, taking a sip.  "make it a very large bowl."

he walked towards the back, hesitated, and muttered a mild curse under his breath when he saw his friends gathered around marian in the back, a dungeon master screen in front of her.

okay, maybe it wasn't that mild.

his spirits brightened considerably when foxy charles patted the space next to her.  "just in time!"

he grunted as he settled next to her.  "can i have some armor or something?  i'm getting tired of being taken out with one hit."

"you're a rogue, gavin!" marian admonished him.  "rather, your character Garvin is a rogue, and they can't wear heavy armor.  by the way, burkie has added a sidebar to the left to help everyone remember who is playing whom--"

"i think it's safe to say that he's playing us all."

marian scowled, it being one of her best and--in gavin's presence--most often used facial expressions.  "shush!  he also added a 'search' function to the blog which will be really useful."

"for what?"

"to whom?"

"new readers?"

"do we even have any old readers left?"

"we certainly don't have any young readers."

"maybe we have fictional readers."

"we have to have at least one reader or we wouldn't exist at all."

"we don't exist?!"

"stop it!  now, ready? okay!" marian sounded like a cheerleader as she looked around at the assembled players.  "you've survived the rather light skirmish at the graveyard and recovered a key.  the dog has run off, seemingly having fulfilled his purpose."

"how do we know it's a him?"

"we never found out the dog's name!"

"um..." marian ruffled some papers, clearly flustered and unprepared for this.

jasper curled his bottom lip back between his teeth and let out a shrill "FWEET!  FWEET!"

"here, doggy!" sierra called out.

"um....okay, guys, the dog just runs off," marian told them.  "now--"

tucker strums a chord.  "Trotter plays a happy chord on his guitar and casts a 'charm' spell to compel the dog to come back to us."

"guys, that's not part of the scenario.  let's--"

"but we're roleplaying!  the story has to adapt to how we react.  isn't that how this is supposed to work?"  the Lurker reasoned.  "the dog comes trotting back and i cast 'tongues' to speak to it in dog language."

"there is no dog language--"

monte, the Pub's resident cardigan welsh corgi, gave an indignant bark from over by the fireplace.

"it's a she of the species!  and her name is Stella von Ripperschnauzer," the Lurker informed them.

"invite her to join us!  she'll probably be very useful."

"guys, rangers don't get an animal companion until 3rd Level, and i didn't prepare--"

"that's okay, Jinkster's a quick study and learns fast for a 1st Level," Seyarrah noted.  "he went to the best schools!"

"okay, fine.  Stella joins the party."

"yay!"

"huzzah!"

"woof!"

danny delivers cardigan's stew.  "good call."

the Lurker's eyes go wide.  "oh, Stella's hungry!  she suddenly chases after an evil rabbit that just darted from behind a tombstone."

"wait, an evil rabbit?"

"i don't want to watch her eat an innocent, cute bunny.  do you?"

"good point."

"guys, we need to get to the castle now," marian was scowling extra scowlingly now.

"wait, the poor thing is hungry!  she's earned her reward by leading us to the key, don't you think?."

"while she eats, Garvin takes out the new throwing knives and start sharpening them against a whetstone while Stella eats the evil rabbit," gavin explains around a mouthful of stew.

"nice thinking, Garvin!" foxy beams at him.  "and Malifox stars wiping the bone dust off of her swords, because bone dust can be poisonous."

"Trotter sits on a tombstone and tunes his guitar."

"Seyarrah points her hands at a pile of twigs to start a cook fire," sierra noted, "and starts heating up some leftover mustard green stew."

"guys, you have a quest to fulfill over at Castle Elsinore!"

"we need to eat, to keep our strength up," taylor told her, "so Russert pulls out a hot dog and places it on the end of a whittled-down stick and places it over the flames of the fire."

"i've got ale," Jinkster announces.

"hear, hear!"  Garvin pulls out a mug.  "and, um, here here."

"the Lurker wants a hot dog, too," the Lurker announced.  "with mustard."

"guys, you don't have hot dogs or mustard or stew.  you have trail rations and dried beef--"

"trail mix?!  i need more than peanuts and raisins if i'm gonna storm a haunted castle."

"it's not trail mix; it's trail rations!"

"which is...?"

"um...dried fruit and, um...nuts, and...."

"trail mix.  no thanks."

"FWOOSH!"  the Lurked fwooshed with a flourish of hands.  "s'mores!"

"yay!"

"no, no s'mores!!!!"

"mmmmmm, s'mores."

"nom nom nom"

"i'm gonna need a nap after this."

"hmph."

Hey, it's Poor Yorick's Pub. A graveyard scene was inevitable.

gavin cardigan walked into the Pub with a heavy sigh.

"danny boy, whaddya have for a hard-working man?"

"korean bbq yum yum rice bowl," his friend danny blake replied, sliding a ping of Guinness at him.

"sounds like just the thing, thanks."  he lifts his pint in a toast, takes a sip, and heads back to join his friends who are already gathered around the tables that have been set up for D&D.

"have a seat, shorty," foxy charles scoots over to let him in.

"thanks, tall green and beautiful," he muttered good-naturedly (for gavin) as he settles in.

"awww, i'm shipping for Garvin and Malifox," marian grinned from behind the DM screen.

"wait, you're the DM.  you can't ship for any of the player-characters--you have to be neutral," sierra charlie pointed out.

"what does 'shipping' mean in this context?" gavin asked suspiciously.

"shush!"  marian scolded him.  "now, let me remind our myriad of readers who everyone is, especially since burkie went back to change all the D&D names."

gavin cardigan: Garvin Sweaterbearer, a halfling rogue
foxy charles:  Malifox, a half-orc fighter
sierra charles:  Seyarrah of the Seven Seas, a human cleric
jasper ffoote:  Jinkster Wildeffoote, a human ranger
taylor young:  Russert de Lioncourt, a elven vampire...druid....kinda thing
Mysterious Lurker:  Mysterious Lurker, a tiefling sorceress (tieflings are a half-demon race often charactrized by blue skin, a tail, and horns)
tucker:  Trotter, a half-elf bard

cardigan bristles at the mention of their handome creator and takes another sip or two.

"at the end of our last adventure, the group of you--"

"wait, we need a name for our group!"

"Transylvanguards!"

"no."

"The Woody Guthries."

"no."

"Burkie's Castaways."

"hell, no."

"The Publicans," danny suggested as he delived cardigan's din din with yum yum sauce.

cardigan nodded.  "i like it."  he digs in.  "i like this, too.  yum....er, yum."

marian nodded.  "okay, The Publicans started following the dog down the right-hand path to a cemetery, even though the left-hand path was supposed to lead to their intended destination.  he eventually leads you into a very old graveyard.  some stones are crumbled and faded, some are gone completely.  some are covered up by vines and weeds.  there is a big oak tree in the middle.  the dog runs over with a bark and starts digging at the dirt in front of it.  you approach, slowly, watching the dog.  you hears his claws starts scratching against something that sounds like wood.  he sits back, tongue hanging out, looking very pleased with himself.  you see that he has uncovered a small chest."

"what a nice dog!  let's see what's inside."

"wait!"  Jinkster held up a hand.  "it might be a trap."

"rogues are good at finding traps," Russert noted.  "Garvin, why don't you go inspect it to make sure it's not a trap."

"um, right.  okay,"  gavin swallowed a mouthful of korean bbq.  "i...um...Garvin goes over to look at the box and, um, it looks okay."

marian shook her head.  "no, you have to roll a Perception Check to see if you can perceive a trap.  roll a d20,than add your dexterity modifier and your skill ranks."

"um...okay."  gavin picks through his dice to find the 20-sided one and rolls it, winces, refers to his character sheet.  "um....2 plus...um...okay.  9?"

"Garvin doesn't detect any traps," marian announces.

gavin nods.  "right, so Garvin lifts the box out of the hole and opens it."

marian shakes her head.  "as Garvin attempts to open the box, a greenish mist puffs out toward his face and is instantly paralyzed."

"WHAT?!  you said there wasn't a trap!"

"no, i said you didn't perceive the trap.  your perception roll was too low."

"#&%$!"

"gavin!"

"at that moment, you hear what sounds like bones clacking and look behind you.  there are three skeletons approaching.  the two on either side are carrying long, jagged swords.  the one in the middle is taller, wearing a crown, and hand has a chain around its neck with something mall dangling on it.  roll for initiative!"

they reach for the d20 and roll.  dice are scrambling around the table, followed a series of cheers and groans, and one scolding.

"gavin, you don't roll.  Garvin is paralyzed!"

the players let marian know what their initiative roll was and she jots down the order of attack.

"Lurker, you rolled highest, so you're first."

the Lurker stands, her hair going from red to light blue right before their eyes.  "I extend my left hand toward the skeleton on the left and curl back all but the middle finger, which emits a beam of light blue light straight at him and yell, 'Ray of Frost, you bag of bones!'"

"yay!" marian clapped.  "make an attack roll.  a d20 and add your modifiers."

the Lurker rolls and squeals.  "a 20!"

"that's a critical role!" marian exclaimed.  "roll a d8 for damage, add your modifiers, then double it."

the Lurker picks up her orange 8-sided die, her hair turns orange to match.  the rubs the die on her hair and rolls.

"thats...good!  and with modiefiers...doubled....that's an 18!"

marian rubs her hands together.  "the spell streaks from your middle finger and strikes the fragile skeleton, encasing it in a film of ice. the force of the spell knocks him down and his skeleton frame shatters into a thousand pieces of ice shards."

the Lurker blows on her finger.  "yeah, i'm bad."

"Russert, you're up!"

"right!"  taylor stands and pulls his arm up across his face.  "i pull the top of my cape over the front of my face and stare down the skeleton on the right and hypnotize him."

marian rolled her eyes and said, "okay, make a persuasion check and add your charisma modifier."

"taylor rolled his d20 off the table, and they all had to help him find it, then rolled it again. "12."

marian shook her head.  "his dead, so he is immune to your attempts to hypnotize him."

"hmph."

"Trotter?"

"ah, yes.  well, i'm going to cast Inspire Courage on our new friend Jinkster to increase his attack and damage rolls,"  tucker explained, then strummed a chord.

he knocks an arrow, straight and true
and aims it as his foe
the shaft will fly without a sound
and down his foe will go
uh huh
uh huh
and down his foe will go
hey!

"ah, thanks Trotter."  Jinkster looks pleased and rises, holding his left arm start out and pulling an imaginary bowstring back to his right ear, squinting one eye to fix his gaze.  "i have the boney bastard in my sights and let fly!"

he rolls a d20 and adds his dexterity modifier.  "18!"

"that hits!  roll for attack!"

jasper rolls a d8, adds his modifier and Trotter's inspiration.  "13."

"just enough," marian nods.  "the arrow strikes the sternum, shattering it, and causing the bones connected to it to disengage, and the chain reaction reduced the entire skeleton into a heap of useless bones upon the ground."

"nice shot, Jinkster!" Seyarrah praised him.

"oh!  i'm going to ship Jinkster and Seyarrah, too!"  marian looked at them and grinned, then made a serious face.  "it's the Boss Skeleton's turn.  he raised his hands and sends a red bolt of fire straight at Garvin's supine form."

she rolls a d20.  "what's Garvin's armor class?"

"um, 14."

"the fire bolts slam into Garvin's defenseless body and deals..." she rolls a die and calculates.  "12 damage."

"dammit!  how 'come nobody else gets attacked?"

"you're paralyzed!  of course he's going to attack you.  it's not personal.  Seyarrah, you're up."

"heal me!"

"no, this guy is undead.  cleric's are awesome against undead," sierra grinned and rose.  "i cast Cure Wounds!"she rolls a d20.  "21 with modiefier."

"that hits!  roll for damage."

sierra rolled and frown.  "4."

"my turn!"  foxy stands."  Malifox rushes forward, twirling two swords in her hands, screaming an orcish curse at the skeleton and drive both blades into his chest!"

"okay, roll for the first blade."

"23!"

"okay, roll for attack.  a d10 plus your strength."

"13!"

"now roll for the second sword."

"19?"

"that'll work.  damage?"

"11."

marian looks at her and grins.  "the stage is yours!"

"um...what?"

"that's my catchphrase for when you defeat a boss!  when i say, 'the stage is yours,' it means you have defeated the boss and you may describe the kill."

"that's cool!  macabre, but cool!  okay, let's see.  i leap from about 6 feet away and hurls myself with both blades extended before me straight into the skeleton's ribcage, driving him back and pinning him to the ground as i land with my full weight onto his pelvis, crushing his bones into harmless pieces."

the table applauds and foxy bows.

"can i get some goddamned healing over here?"

"hush, you can't talk!"  poke.

"i guess we should heal him."

"he hasn't been much help.  maybe we should leave him here and save the potions and healing spells for someone more useful?"

cardigan glared as he lifted his pint, and cursed to find it empty.  "danny, another pint!"

"Malifox has a Cure Poison potion," foxy takes her own pint glass and places it against cardigan's mouth.  "drink, Garvin.  this will make you feel 4 foot tall!"

gavin glares and sips.

"i'm going to loot the big guy," Jinkster announces and goes over to pull the chain off from around his neck.  "there's a key here.  it's a...wait for it....wait for it..."

they waited for it.

"a skeleton key."  they groaned and he placed it in his pocket.  "i'm sure it will come in handy later."

"okay, everyone back away from the hole in the ground," the Lurker told them.  "i'm going to conjure Mage Hand and, as the spectral, floating hand comes into being i send it over to the box and open it, letting the poisoin gas float harmlessly out.  the Mage Hand brings the box halfway over and carfeully dumps the context onto the ground, then places the box back in the hole again.  "much better than endangering our halfling."

Russert walks over to inspect the contents on the ground.  "20 gold pieces, a cure poison potion, a healing potion, and a couple of throwing knives."

"give Garvin the knives.  halflings are good at throwing things," Seyarrah suggested, then ducked as a coaster is flung at her head.  "usually, anyway."

"hmph."

Be Nice To Dog

gavin cardigan walked into the Pub, shaking off the cold, scattering it all over the floor.

"hey, danny!  what's on the menu tonight?"

danny blake handed him a pint of Bass and said, "kimchi fried rice."

gavin nodded his approval as he picked up the beer, lifting it to toast the Pub proprietor, and turns to walk back to join the regulars.  he groans as he sees the Dungeon Master screen spread before marian, the others sitting around her.

"Dungeons & Dragons again?!  i thought that chapter was over."

marian pointed at his chair with authority.  "sit!  we didn't do anything last time!  all we did was introduce the characters.  you start your adventure tonight!"

he settled in between the sisters charles.  "okay, let's get this over with.  who do i kill?"

"shush!" marian shushed him.  "now, Lord Beardhead has final instructions for you."

she cleared her throat, then squinted her eyes, puffed out her cheeks, and crunched her lips up right under her nose.  in a gruff yet lifting voice she said, "adventurers, you have a perilous quest before you.  succeed and bring the Bludhammer to me, and i will reward you handsomely.  fail, and...well, die."  she looked at them individually, holding each in her gaze for an almost uncomfortable period before moving to the next.  "one last piece of advice before you go:  be nice to dog."

with that, Lord Beardhead gives a sign and the great oaken doors of his manor slam shut, leaving them outside.

"wait...what?"

"'be nice to dog?!' what the hell does that mean?"

"why wouldn't i be nice to  dogs?  why would anyone not be nice to dogs?"

"well, there are dogs...and then there are dogs."

"spoken like a cat person!"

"let's just get going, shall we?"  gavin grumbled.

marian poked him with a telescopic backscratcher with a clawed hand on the end.  "you're a halfling!  you need to speak with a higher voice.  roleplay!"

"ow!  put that thing away!"

poke.

"dammit--"

poke.

Malifox pulls on his arm and grows deeply.  "this way, puny!"

sierra giggled and gavin was about to say something inappropriate when danny placed a steaming bowl of kimchi fried rice in front of him.  "eat up, bilbo.  you'll need your strength."

before he could retort Jinkster said, "hey, chaps.  with my keen hunter senses, i...um...sense a fork in the road ahead and a large shaggy dog standing before it."

"a dog, you say?"  Trotter said, putting his hand above his eyes to look ahead.  "i am blessed with keen eyesight from my elven kin.  the dog is black, with splotches of white.  friendly looking."

marian beamed at him.  "good, good!  now you're into the spirit of it.  now, you approach the dog and see him standing in the middle of the path, right before it splits into two directions.  a sign behind has an arrow pointing to the left with the word 'Elsinore.'  the arrow to the right says 'Cemetery.'"

gavin stops shoveling fried rice into his mouth just long enough to gesture to the left with his chopsticks.  "to the left.  let's go."

marian scowls at him and rolls a die.  she looks at the result, consults her papers, rolls two more dice, shakes her head, then says "as you start to walk down the left-hand path, the dog leaps and snaps at your throat, gashing it open, your blood gushing out fiercely.  you gasp, press your fingers against the wound, but it splatters out about them.  you take 25 points of damage."

"WHAT?!"  gavin drops his sticks and foxy grabs his arms instinctively.  the others look at gavin, petrified.  "i only have 12 hit points!"

"what's your constitution?"

"um....14."

marian softens her voice.  "Garvin Sweaterbearer is unconscious and barely alive.  all of you suddenly realize just how perilous this adventure is.  this is no walking party through hobbiton.  it is serious business!  now, be very careful with your next actions.  think!"

"wtf?!"

"okay, okay everyone.  calm down.  we can figure this out," Mysterious Lurker emits a calming, light blue mist around them.

"i'm a cleric, i'll heal him," Seyarrah of the Seven Seas informed them.  "um...." she raises one of gavin's chopsticks into the air.  "Septima, i call upon your grace to restore the health of this tempestuous halfling...and perhaps bump up his charisma stats a little bit while you're at it."

gavin glared at her and snatched his chopstick from her hand.

"good call, Seyarrah," marian praised her.  "now, roll 3d6."

"what's that mean?"

"roll three 6-sided dice, then add up the result.  that will be the amount of points that you heal Garvin."

"oh, got it."  Seyarrah nodded and rolled her 3d6.  "yay, 14!"

"good!  that restores Garvin to consciousness, but he's still in bad shape."

"give me a healing potion, dammit!"

"3d4."

gavin grumbles, picking around the funny dice to find three of the pyramid-shaped ones and rolls.  "um....7.  that's better.  why'd that dog bite me?!"

"the dwarf--he said 'be nice to dog,' remember?" Mysterious Lurker pointed out.  "You started walking off without acknowledging him."

foxy lowers her voice and says, "Malifox reaches down into her bag and pulls out a thick, raw steak and tosses it to the dog. 'here you go, buddy.  this will taste a lot better than hobbit.'"

gavin glared while marian nodded and told Malifox to make a persuasion roll and add her charisma score to it.  Malifox rolls her d20 and says, "15!"

marian starts making nom nom noises.  "the dog tears into the steak, wolfing it down."

"shouldn't he be dogging it down?  he's not a wolf, right?"

marian looks at taylor and growls until he raises his hands defensively.  "sorry, just a little humor."

"the dog wags his tail happily, barks once, and trots down the right-hand path.  he stops after about 10 feet and looks back at them expectantly."  as she says this, marian looks at the others expectantly.

"guess the nice thing to do would be to follow the dog, huh?"

Trotter takes his Martin backpacker guitar and strums a chord.

follow the dog
follow him right
into the fog
into the night
follow him now
follow him true
be nice to him
whatever you do!

"hmph."

+6 to Dexterity (or, as some call it, Manipulation)

gavin cardigan walked into the Pub and hung his raincoat and fedora on the wooden pegs next to the door.

"danny, tell me you've got something fantastic that will make me forget all about this soggy weather," he said to his good friend and bartender and chef.

"i've got just the thing," danny blake told him as he pulled a pint of guinness for his best customer.  "a pho-rench dip.  50% pho, 50% french dip sandwich, 200% awesomesauce."

"awesomesauce?  that sounds like a marian word, but sounds totes delish.  wait, totes?!  now i'm doing it!"

he tilts the side of his head and pounds lightly as if to dump out excess marian-ness from his brain and walks back to join the regulars.  he finds several tables pushed together and marian herself sitting at the head with a 1-foot tall, tri-panel screen in front of her.  the others are sitting around with pencils, paper, and odd-looking dice.

his pace slows as realization sets in.

"don't tell me you're all playing dungeons & dragons," he groaned.

"so are you, cardigan," sierra charlie pats the chair next to her.  "we've already created a character for you.  a rogue!"

"i'm not play--"

cardigan is interrupted by the running approach of a breathless foxy charles, who gives gavin a quick peck on the cheek as she settles into place.

"you haven't started yet, have you?  i'm so excited!" she turns to gavin.  "i'm going to be a fighter!  what are you playing?"

"i...uh...," gavin stammers and grabs at the paper that jasper ffoote slides over to him with a wink.  "a...a rogue.  you know, 'cause i'm used to working in the shadows and uncovering secrets."

"okay, okay, everyone listen up!" marian raps on the table with her pencil.  "i'll be the DM tonight.  this adventure is called 'Peril in Elsinore,' in honor of our friend shakespeare's setting for Hamlet.  all of you have been invited to a special dinner with Lord Beardhead, the Dwarven Lord of the Kronen Fjords."

"Beardhead?  shouldn't it be Beardface or Beardchin or something like that?"

"shush!" marian scowled and continued.  "you have never met one another before, but you each have your own reason to answer a summons from Lord Beardhead.  after a lavish dinner, you sit around drinking tea, ale, or brandy, nibbling on cheese and nuts.  he tells you that he had finally deciphered the runes of an ancient manuscript that reveals that the Bludhammer, long-lost symbol of House Beardhead, lies hidden in a chamber beneath the ruins of Castle Elsinore to the north.  however, the castle has been abandoned and haunted for centuries.  it will take a mighty party of warriors to retrieve it, which is why he has summoned you.  with your combination of skills and abilities, he is certain that you can achieve success.  plus, you are the only people he can trust not to betray him.  he will give you gold and let you equip yourselves with the best armor and weaponry he can provide."

marian looked at each of them with a grin.

"now, introduce yourselves to each other.  taylor, you go first."

taylor darts his eyes suspicoiusly around the group assembled.  "i am Count Russert de Lioncourt, an elven vampire from the east."

"taylor, vampire is not a class in D&D!"  marian scolded him.

"i'm over 1200 years old," taylor continues, undaunted.  "my elven blood allows me to be active in daylight, unlike others of my kind.  i can turn into either a wolf or a bat as needed.  my fangs are indestructible, and i also carry a rapier.  my cloak grants me invisibility and was a gift from Lord Beardhead.  it is beyond price."

"okay, i'll treat you like a druid," marian decided.  "tucker?"

the lanky folksinger strummed a chord. "i am a half-elven bard named Trotter.  i can sing songs and recite verses that will either inspire or heal my comrades-in-arms or confound our enemies."

"the latter i can definitely believe," gavin muttered as danny delivered the mouth-watering sandwich.

"Lord Beardhead is a Patron of the Arts and provided me with funds so i could hone my craft.  i'm also handy with a crossbow."

"i am the Mysterious Lurker," said a mysterious voice from the figure lurking behind a purple mist in front of one of the chairs.  "i am a half-demon tiefling sorceress.  i can cast illusions that will leave you questioning your senses, and can also use magic as a weapon.  Lord Beardhead protected my family from the locals when we moved to this land, and we owe him a debt of gratitude."

"yay!" marian applauded.  "you're a natural roleplayer!  sierra, who are you?"

"i am Seyarrah of the Seven Seas, a human cleric who has sailed the...um....seven seas, serving Septima, the Goddess of the...um...Seven Seas," sierra read from her script, arching an eyebrow at marian who nodded at her encouragingly.  "our ship was recently besieged by vicious pirates and we would have been slaughtered had not a flotilla of warships commissioned by Lord Beardhead not come to our rescue, so now i serve Septima and Lord Beardhead."

"and i am Jinkster Wildffoote," the tallish lad next to sierra.  "i am a human ranger of the wild, an expert hunter and tracker.  my parents were haunted and driven insane by spirits from the beyond, and i have devoted my life to studying their ways and ridding this land of their presence.  since Castle Elsinore is full of these foul undead creatures,"  he casts a bright yet distrustful eye at the vampire, "Lord Beardhead knows that i need no other motivation to fulfill my part in this quest."

sierra nodded admirably at her decidedly normally hue-skinned beau, then turned to her sister.  "what about you, foxy?"

foxy stood tall and straight and fixed every with an evil glare.  "i am Malifox.  my last name is unimportant.  i am an half-orc--"

gavin bit his tongue and swore.  "a half-orc?!"

she fixed him with a playful stare.  "and don't you forget it! i am a fighter, very strong and almost 7-feet tall, my greenish-grey skin covered with the scars of many battles.  i do not trust elves or half-elves, and barely tolerate humans.  dwarves i detest, but i will fulfill my role in this...affair.  the reason why is of no concern to anyone but Beardhead and myself.  as for halflings...i only notice them when i step on them."

this earned a few guffaws around the table.

"what?" gavin asked, wiping his drippy chin.

"your turn," marian poked him.  "introduce yourself."

he picked up the paper and started reading.  "i am, um, Garvin Sweaterbearer, a halfling rogue--wait, a halfling?!  i don't think so!"

"gavin, you have to be!  you were last and there has to be a halfling.  plus, they make great rogues because of their bonus to dexterity."

"i am not a hobbit!"

"nobody said you were a hobbit, gavin!  it's just a game.  come on, roleplaying is fun.  rogues are very mysterious and can do all kinds of cool things," foxy coaxed him.

"okay, okay," he said resignedly.  "i, uh, am an accomplished thief and good at detecting traps.  i got good at it because once i failed to detect a trap and was poisoned.  Lord Beardhead alone has the antidote, and i must return to him once a month for a dosage or i will die.  however, it has made me immune to other poisons.  i carry several daggers, included one that is dipped in poison, and a shortbow--"

"very short," taylor shickered.

gavin glared at him.  "and a quiver of arrows, some of which are tipped with poison and other substances, like holy water."

taylor gulped and accidently knocked over his beer glass which, fortunately, was almost empty and he was able to sop up the mess with a cocktail napkin.

"this is gonna be so cool!"

"this might be cool."

"doesn't anyone play chess anymore?"

the search for the great burkie

Gavin Cardigan walked into Poor Yorick's Pub. "Anything for supper tonight, Danny?"

Danny Blake scowled at Gavin and turned his attention to sweeping debris off the floor. "No kitchen, no food, Gavin. We're still cleaning up the mess Carlotta 2.0 left behind. Who knew that kicking someone out of the pub could be so explosive?"

Gavin nodded sympathetically. "Well, my vote was for someone else, but our dear creator had no interest in listening to me! Speaking of whom... where is he?"

Danny glanced up surprised, "Huh? Wait... What's going on? What are all these capital letters doing at the beginning of sentences?"

Gavin scanned the mostly empty pub. Only a handful of the regulars were around. Sierra Charlie frantically gestured her hands in the air with her cellphone plastered to her head. Taylor Young swept circles around the Mysterious Lurker and Marian Elfman, who were standing by the only furniture in the pub, a makeshift table created of leftover pieces from Danny's bar and an upside down garbage can. Gavin walked over to Marian and the Lurker, who were huddled over Marian's smartphone.

"What are you guys doing?" Gavin asked.

"We're trying to see if we can GPS track Burkie," the Lurker responded.

"And I'm filling in on the blog, too," Marian added. "I wanted to make sure that anyone trying to locate any loved ones who were at the pub last week could do so by checking in on the pub's blog page... I was going to set up a Twitter account, but I knew Burkie would feel uneasy about entering new social media worlds, so we're sticking with the blog for now."

Gavin looked relieved to have solved one mystery. "So who else have you heard from? Is everyone okay?"

Marian switched the screen on her smartphone to a spreadsheet. "Sierra is currently going through her phonebook checking in on everyone. So far she's been able to make contact with Foxy..." Gavin gave a huge sigh of relief. Marian looked up and snickered. "Linda, Tucker, the Lurker, Taylor, me, Danny... And now you're here, so she won't have to call you next!"

Gavin started, "Hey, I don't even make top 5?!"

Marian glared at Gavin. "Don't be so childish. We have more important matters at hand! Where's Burkie???"

Gavin looked sheepish. "You're right, you're right. I'll get on the case!"

The Lurker jumped in, "Hey, do you think we need time machines to find him? I never did get to travel in my hot tub time machine."

Gavin glared at her, "Like you helped all that much last time! And no! Of course we don't need time machines! At least I don't think we do..."

Marian intervened, "Okay guys, let's focus here! The last anyone heard from Burkie was about beef. Maybe the beef can lead us to him."

Gavin declared, "As the premier investigator in this pub, I am officially on the case. To the beef!"

(To be continued... Maybe.)

Costume Foolery

gavin cardigan entered the Pub and hung his fedora on a peg.  "danny boy!" he called out.  "what's for supper tonight?"

"chicken and waffles," danny blake responded from behind the bar, pouring cardigan a Bass.  "you game?"

"chicken, waffles, and beer," cardigan mused.  "i find nothing to complain about there.  thank you, sir."

cardigan walked back to join his friends in the back.  "what's up, guys?"

"we're trying to figure out our costumes for burkie's annual halloween party!" marian elfman announced excitedly.

cardigan's enthusiasm was less than apparent.  "i didn't even now that burkie had an annual halloween party."

"this will be the first in a new tradition," Mysterious Lurker stated with certainty, her black locks nicely framing her Elvira makeup.  "he just doesn't know it yet."

"it promises to be at least as popular as his not-quite annual winter solstice party," sierra charles predicted.  "granted, that wouldn't take much."

"gavin, old chap," taylor quipped, "i'm thinking of not going as a vampire.  a bit obvious, you know.  any suggestions?"

"i don't know," cardigan shrugged.  "why don't you & marian go as sonny & cher?"

sierra applauded the suggestion.  "i'd like to see marian dressed up as cher!"

marian scowled.  "um, no.  besides, i was planning on going as zooey deschanel.  taylor is on his own on this one."

"ooooh, i like that one!" the Lurker exclaimed.  "you'll be a great zooey, marian."

"hmph," taylor muttered.  "perhaps i'll go as chef gordon ramsay, then.  we have the same accent."

"please use rubber knives," danny pleaded, recalling taylor's natural clumsiness as he delivered cardigan's meal.  "so who will you be, gavin?"

cardigan dug into his meal.  "mmm, this is great.  i don't know...maybe as that kid from jerry maguire.  you know, the one that just goes around spouting trivia like there are more songs about memphis than any other city.  it'll probably annoy the hell out of burkie."

"is that true about memphis?" sierra asked.  "i would have thought new york."

"no, it's definitely memphis," tucker confirmed for everyone, then began strumming an E chord in a slow boogie-woogie.  "even i have one."

(NC) in (E) memphis

there's a (A) barefoot girl named (E) presley

(NC) in (E) memphis

she will (A) wait for me ex(E)pressly

(B7) she knows that i'm gonna be there sunday

(A) we'll have a ball that night i daresay

(E) memphis

(A) whoah-oh in (E) memphis

(NC) in (E) memphis

there's a (A) beat that keeps you (E) groovin'

(NC) in (E) memphis

you will (A) find the tunes a(E)pprovin'

(B7) rockabilly, soul, and blues and gospel

(A) dance steps just this side of lawful

(E) memphis

(A) whoah-oh in (E) memphis

(NC) in (E) memphis

there's a (A) rib joint by the (E) freeway

(NC) in (E) memphis

get some (A) soul food at the (E) Four Way

(B7) this ain't a town for counting cal'ries

(A) come get a belly full of mem'ries

(E) memphis

(A) whoah-oh in (E) memphis

(A) whoah-oh in (E) memphis

(A) whoah-oh in (E) memphis

danny, unexpectedly, clapped his hands.  "bravo, tucker.  sounds like you've been to memphis."

the Lurker looked surprised.  "sounds like you've been there too, danny.  i didn't know that."

danny shrugged.  "i've been a lot of places.  one doesn't have to lurk to be mysterious," he added with a wink as he walked back to the bar.

"i guess danny's going as an enigma," sierra observed.

"an enigma that knows how to cook," cardigan added as he dragged a piece of chicken through the maple syrup. 

King Phillip Came Over For Guinness Stout

gavin cardigan walked into Poor Yorick's Pub, hung up his fedora, and called out, "what's for supper, danny boy?"

"hot dogs," danny blake replied as he poured a beer.

"just hot dogs?" cardigan sounded disappointed as he took the beer.

"okay, spicy mango-pineapple hot dogs, to be precise."

"now you're talking.  i'll take two to start," cardigan grinned.

sierra charles pushed an empty stool toward cardigan.  "cop a squat, cardigan, and tell us about your day."

"i'm investigating the background of a duck hunter who wrecked his truck coming back from a hunt," the private investigator told them.  "a pediatrician was driving by and stopped to provide medical care.  the hunter was unharmed but his dog couldn't breathe, so the pediatrician performed an emergency tracheotomy."

"did the dog live?" Mysterious Lurker asked anxiously, reaching down to scratch monte the pub dog behind the ears."

cardigan took a swig of beer and nodded.  "yes, the doctor saved his life.  however, he can't bark anymore, which makes him useless for duck hunting.  so, the hunter is suing the doctor for malpractice."

"that's not right!" marian elfman exlaimed.  "i hope a duck sues the hunter for...for malhunting!"

danny chuckled as he delivered the hot dogs.  "there's probably a lawyer already working on that."

cardigan nodded.  "no doubt.  thanks, danny.  these look great."  he took a bite then continued.  "so i'm helping the doctor's lawyer build a case that the hunter is an unfit master for the dog."

"good for you, cardigan!" sierra punched him on the shoulder.

monte woofed and wagged his tail.

tucker strummed an A-minor chord and began singing:

they say it's a dog's life
what's that really mean?
lots of bones and frisbees
not a drop of listerine
i don't dream of rabbits
i don't bite the mailman's leg
you'll never catch me howling
and i won't sit up and beg
  i'm a dog
  i'm a dog
  if you think you understand my life
  your brain is full of fog
  i'm a dog
  i'm a dog
  just because you scoop my poop don't
  mean you know the real scoop
  i'm a dog

linda nulo applauded her boyfriend.  "i like that one, honey!  but i thought you were a cat person?"

"mother tucker is a dog person so i've been around dogs all my life," tucker explained, oblivious to the giggling inspired by this explanation as he continued:

they say i've got nine lives
how do they know that?
did they live the life of every
other once-live cat
you feed me friskies beef stew
i just wonder how
nobody ever thought to make
mouse-flavored kitten chow
  i'm a cat
  i'm a cat
  if you think you understand my life
  your brain is full of crap
  i'm a cat
  i'm a cat
  when i'm away, the mice will play
  but you're away today
  i'm a cat

"that's true," gavin observed.  "cats don't eat cows and sheep.  cat food should be mouse-flavored, or sparrow-flavored, not beef- or lamb-flavored."

"ewww," marian wrinkled her nose.  "that's gross."

"what about the ducks?" the Lurker asked.  "do you have a verse for them, too?"

"water off a duck's back"
that's what people say
when all their petty problems
just up and fall away
we don't deal with politics or
economic slumps
we don't get prescriptions filled
when we're down in the dumps
  i'm a duck
  i'm a duck
  if you think you understand my life
  you brain is full of muck
  i'm a duck
  i'm a duck
  i walk like one, i quack like one,
  i take to water like one
  i'm a duck

"you know what i've always wondered?" sierra wondered out loud.  "if you call a female duck a duck and male duck a drake, shouldn't donald and daffy be known as donald drake and daffy drake?"

"and why do they both have speech impediments?" the Lurker put in.  "that seems rather...racist, doesn't it?"

"ducks aren't another race," marian noted.  "there another species, genus, order, and class altogether.  you should say orderist or classist instead of racist."

"i would have thought classist would describe discrimination based on social class rather than on class within the animal kingdom," taylor mused.  "how about keeping it simple and just saying duckist?"

"i miss conversations like this," caridgan muttered as he drained his beer.

"really?" shakespeare asked as he bussed the tables.

"no."

The Bird Is The Word, Part The Second

((if you haven't read Part the First, read this chapter first))

"so, hep.  has anybody figured it out yet?" burkie asked his special assistant.

"no," s.a. hepzibah told him.  "AND DON'T CALL ME HEP!!!"

"looks like your readership of five may have shrunk even fewer, burkie," cardigan smirked.

burkie fixed his disagreeable protagonist with a stare.  "without readers, there's no blog.  with no blog, there's no cardigan."

"um...perhaps they're on summer vacation," cardigan suggested meekly.

"or busy with summer activities," sierra put in hastily.

"we can figure this out ourselves," marian stated confidently.  "let's look at the first clue again!"

Mr. Monotone: oh, i wonder-wonder-wonder-wonder-wonder-wonder-wonder who-who-who-who who wrote the book of love?

"honey, didn't you say you know something about this?"  linda asked her boyfriend, tucker.

the folksinger nodded.  "The Monotones had a song in the '50s called The Book of Love.  the bird quotes the signature line, but in the original they only said wonder twice.  this bird says it, what, seven times?"

marian typed s-e-v-e-n  w-o-n-d-e-r-s  into her laptop then yelped.   "oh! oh! oh!  seven wonders!  the seven wonders of the ancient world!" 

"very good, marian!"  sierra told her.

after a short victory dance in her seat and a thank you to tucker for the assist, marian brought forward the next clue:

Winston Churchill: what's a bloody englishman doing with a bloody flashlight?

"taylor," burkie turned toward to clumsy vampire-wannabe.  "you're supposed to be british.  what does that mean?"

"cor blimey, i don't know," taylor ran his fingers through his hair.  "except that an englishman would call it a torch, not a flashlight."

"that's true," cardigan looked impressed.  "that might be it, taylor.  what's the next clue, marian?"

Hannah Graham: sure, i know that song. old bar hit.

"i've never heard of Hannah Graham.  who is she?"  s.a. hepzibah asked.

sierra snapped her fingers.  "anagram!  Hannah Graham sounds like anagram!  we need to figure out an anagram for 'old bar hit."

"bridal hot!"

"broad hilt!"

"loath bird!"

"bart hold i!"

marian typed in all the possibilities.  "okay, next!"

Bertrand Russell: this is patently absurd; but whoever wishes to become a philosopher must zip over to the village of great neck!

"the first part of that is an actual bertrand russell quote,"  foxy noted.  "the original runs thus: This is patently absurd; but whoever wishes to become a philosopher must learn not to be frightened by absurdities."

"so what's all that about the village of great neck?" taylor wondered.

"easy," said cardigan.  "the bird used the word zip.  marian, what's the zip code for the village of great neck?"

marian ran a query on her laptop.  "11023."

"but notice how the bird emphasizes the word patently," mr. franklin pointed out.  "do you think that's important?"

"maybe 11023 is a patent number," danny suggested.

"you're doing well, guys," burkie nodded.  "i'm proud of ya!  what's next, marian?"

Robert Downey, Jr.: i know what dude i am. i'm the dude playing the dude disguised as another dude.

"that's from the movie Tropic Thunder," taylor reminded them.  "ducky, what was the name of downy's character in that movie?"

"kirk lazarus," marian typed it in.  "okay, last one!" 

Joan Dunn: it takes a woman to be one of these; no man can handle it.

"no man can handle it," judge st. bishop mused.  "no man...no man...no man is an island.  isn't that a john donne quote?  it has a metaphysical feel to it."

"and john donne sounds like joan dunn," hepzibah pointed out.  "so...a woman is an island?"

"spell it all out for us, marian" burkie ordered.

"yes, sir!"

Seven Wonders
Torch
Bart Hold I
Patent 11023
Lazarus
Island

they all looked at each other and groaned.  "of course!  how stupid are we!"

"here it is," marian pulled the poem up on her laptop.  "let's all read it together now, quickly!"

they all read the poem out loud together.  as soon as they were done, the Mysterious Lurker popped in.

"about time!" she muttered.  "but thank you!  it really is a poor poem, you know.  am i allowed to say that?"

"you are uniquely qualified to say that," danny assured her as her gave her a quick hug.  "come on, i'll fix you some tea."

"great job, everyone!  high five!" burkie put his hand out toward marian and pulled it away just as she extended hers.

"psych!"

words cannot described the face that marian made at this gesture.

The Bird Is The Word, Part The First

gavin cardigan walked into Poor Yorick's Pub, hung his fedora on a peg, and said hello to his buddy danny blake behind the bar.

"hello yourself," danny replied as he poured a beer and handed it to cardigan.  "i'm serving totchos tonight.  interested?"

"if you're making 'em, i'm eating 'em, but what the hell are totchos?"

"nachos made with tater tots instead of tortilla chips," danny explained with a grin.

"pure genius," cardigan raised his glass in praise.  "bring 'em on!"

cardigan took his beer back to his customary table to join his friends and stopped short.  "um, whose bird?"

the bird, which appeared to be a brightly colored parrot, looked at cardigan and squawked, "oh, i wonder-wonder-wonder-wonder-wonder-wonder-wonder who-who-who-who who wrote the book of love?"

cardigan looked at the others, raising an eyebrow.

"it just appeared here," taylor young explained with a shrug.  "a tag on the cage said 'Mr. Monotone.'"

"he stutters.  who ever heard of a stuttering parrot?"

"i have," came an authoritative voice behind them.  cardigan groaned as their handsome creator approached.

"burkie, is this your parrot?"  sierra charles asked.

"i'm afraid not," burkie shook his head.  "i think he was sent by my arch nemesis."

"you have an arch nemesis?"  danny sounded dubious as he delivered cardigan's totchos. "why?"

"yes, his name is archibald knemesis," burkie told them as he plucked a tater tot off of the plate.

"of course it is," cardigan muttered as he moved his plate out of burkie's reach, only to have sierra snag another tot.

"he sent me an email saying that he has trapped the Lurker," burkie told them.

"what?!" marian exclaimed.  "where?  we have to rescue her!"

"don't worry," burkie said calmly.  "like all arch nemesises...nemeses..nemesii...villains, knemesis goes to complicated extremes to show off how clever he is, which will always be his downfall.  now, he explained that the only way to release the Lurker is for all of us to read where she's trapped at the same time."

"but where's she trapped?"  danny sounded worried, despite burkie's confidence.

"knemesis said it might be a book, a play, a poem, or a song, but six blasts from my past would lead us to her."  burkie pointed at the parrot.  "and there is the first blast."

"a stuttering parrot?"

burkie nodded.  "knemesis must know that one of my favorite books ever is The Mystery of the Stuttering Parrot, book 2 in The Three Investigators series.  if i'm right, there will be more parrots."

as if on cue, judge st. bishop walked in carrying a bird cage with a grey bird inside.  "hey, what's going on here?  i was sent this bird and told to come here."

"does he say anything?" danny asked.

the bird himself replied.  "what's a bloody englishman doing with a bloody flashlight?"

"what the hell is that supposed to mean?" cardigan wondered.

the judge shrugged.  "beats me.  the tag on the cage says Winston Churchill."

tucker and linda nulo walked in next, carrying another cage.

"does that bird say anything?" sierra asked before they could say anything.

they nodded and the bird spoke:  "sure, i know that song.  old bar hit."

marian was typing the words into her laptop.  "what's the bird's name?"

"Hannah Graham," linda told her.  "what's this all about?"

"Mysterious Lurker has been kidnapped...er, lurknapped," taylor tried to explain.

"that's three birds," cardigan noted and looked toward the door.  "foxy!"

sierra's sister walked in with another cage.  "hey, guys.  somebody delivered this bird--"

"we know," sierra told her.  "burkie's arch nemesis had the Lurker trapped and the birds have clues to help us rescue her.  what does your bird say?"

"this is patently absurd; but whoever wishes to become a philosopher must zip over to the village of great neck!" the bird told them.

"weird," cardigan murmured.  "but at least it mentioned a place; that gives us something to work on.  what's the bird's name, foxy?"

"Bertrand Russell."

"that's the second brit, counting Winston Churchill," sierra pointed out.  "i wonder if that means anything?"

"i don't know," marian shook her head.  "i've never heard of a Hannah Graham or Mr. Monotone before."

"Mr. Monotone is a reference to--"  tucker started to explain but was interrupted by the entrance of founding father benjamin franklin, carrying a cage with a black mynah bird inside.

"the most extraordinary thing has happened!" mr. franklin told them.  "i was given this bird and a note to come here.  just listen to him talk!"

"i know what dude i am.  i'm the dude playing the dude disguised as another dude," the bird exclaimed.

"i've heard that before!" taylor said excitedly.  "roberty downy, jr. said that in that movie where he was playing an australian actor who was playing a black man in a movie."

cardigan looked pained.  "as if this thing wasn't confusing enough as it is."

mr. franklin nodded.  "that's the name on the cage--Robert Downey, Jr."

"that leaves only one bird," marian observed.  "i wonder who has it?"

they all looked toward the door and, sure enough, somebody walked in carrying a bird cage.  it was special assistant hepzibah, burkie's special assistant.

"hepzibah, thank goodness you're here," burkie told her.  "what's your bird's name and what does he say?"

"it's not a he, it's a she of the species," hepzibah explained.  "her name is Joan Dunn."

the bird shook her wings and said, "it takes a woman to be one of these; no man can handle it."

sierra snorted.  "that doesn't narrow it down much at all."

marian snickered.  "you snorted!"

sierra glared at burkie.  "i don't snort, burkie!  change that, now!"

burkie glowered.  "we don't have time for that, sierra.  we have to find the Lurker.  marian, list all the clues again for us."

Mr. Monotone:  oh, i wonder-wonder-wonder-wonder-wonder-wonder-wonder who-who-who-who who wrote the book of love?
Winston Churchill:  what's a bloody englishman doing with a bloody flashlight?
Hannah Graham:  sure, i know that song.  old bar hit.
Bertrand Russell:  this is patently absurd; but whoever wishes to become a philosopher must zip over to the village of great neck!
Robert Downey, Jr.:  i know what dude i am.  i'm the dude playing the dude disguised as another dude.
Joan Dunn:  it takes a woman to be one of these; no man can handle it.

"right.  now, these clues are supposed to tell us where the Lurker is stuck.  any ideas?  anybody?"  burkie looked around but nobody had anything to offer.

"okay, let's ask for help," burkie decided.  "dear readers, if you know where the Lurker is trapped, please email me at burkie47 -at- gmail -dot- com.  if you can tell me what each clue means and the book or song or play or poem in which the Lurker is trapped, you'll win something.  okay?  thanks for your help, and happy solving!  oh, and don't leave any spoilers in the comments!"

Which Came First: The Letter Or The Word?

gavin cardigan walked into the Pub and hung up his hat.

"hey, gavin. where'd you get the hat?" danny blake asked from behind the bar as he poured a beer.

"it's the one the Lurker made for me in an unpublished chapter a couple of years ago."

"oh, yeah. i forgot all about that chapter. so, how about some chipotle pork enchiladas?"

"mmm, rolled or stacked?"

"stacked," danny replied as he handed him a beer.

"throw a fried egg on top and i'm sold," cardigan winked and walked back to join his friends.

"have a seat gavin," sierra kicked a chair out for him. "marian is going to read us the latest letter she got for her column."

"ahem," marian elfman, author of the syndicated advice column Don't Be So Melodramatic! began.

"ducky," taylor whispered to her. "you don't actually say the word ahem. you're just supposed to clear your throat."

"throat-clearing noises are gross," marian declared. "i prefer the word ahem."

"i agree with marian," sierra said approvingly. "ahem is much more elegant."

"we should do that with other words," Mysterious Lurker suggested. "such as saying belch instead of making belching noises."

"and saying delicious instead of making smacking noises of approval," danny added as he delivered cardigan's enchiladas. "i'm always afraid of spittle when they do that."

"ooh, that's a good one!" said sierra. "people should just say spit instead of actually spitting."

"you realize that we're fictional and we never actually make those sounds anyway, right? all we do is describe them, so we're already doing what you're suggesting," gavin noted, making smacking noises of approval as he ate his enchiladas.

marian glared at him. "don't say stuff like that, gavin! now, ahem:

Dear Marian,
My fiance wants me to sign a pre-nuptial agreement. I wouldn't mind this so much except for one thing: I make more money than he does, I have greater opportunity for career advancement than he does, and my family is wealthier than his. Why should I sign a pre-nup when he has no wealth to protect?! If anything, I should have him sign a pre-nup to protect my wealth! He said it's a way for him to save face with his family. I say he's an idiot. What do you say?
Signed,
How Can I Be A Gold Digger When I Own A Platinum Mine?

"idiot," everyone present said at once.

marian nodded. "i agree. that was an easy one! also," she added, "he shouldn't be so melodramatic!"

tucker laughed. "hahaha, i love your column! it's a rich source of material."

he strummed his guitar and began singing:

dear marian, dear marian
my life is a mess
how i screwed up my laundry
is anyone's guess
my buttons are missing
my underwear shrunk
my shirts are all wrinkled
and smell like a skunk
signed, disheveled

disheveled, disheveled
you have no complaints
you are what you are
and you ain't what you ain't
so, listen up, buster
and listen up good
stop wishing for bad luck
and knocking on wood
and don't be so melodramatic!

marian made indignant faces as the others laughed and called for more.

dear marian, dear marian
my husband's a jerk
he takes all these pills
'cause he's allergic to work
he asks pretty co-eds
to come baby-sit
that wouldn't be so bad
if we only had kids
signed, good-hearted

good-hearted, good-hearted
you have no complaint
you are what you are
and you ain't what you ain't
so, listen up, buster
and listen up, good
stop wishing for bad luck
and knocking on wood
and don't be so melodramatic!

marian hmph'd as everyone sang the last line together and called for more.

dear marian, dear marian
i need your advice
i teach high school english
my students have lice
they're rude and belligerent
and smell like stale beer
they disrupt my class
and make fun of shakespeare
signed, frustrated

frustrated, frustrated
you have no complaint
you are what you are
and you ain't what you ain't
so, listen up, buster
and listen up good
stop wishing for bad luck
and knocking on wood
and don't be so melodramatic!

shakespeare walked over to collect the dirty dishes and joined marian in an indignant hmph and muttered, "as flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods; they kill us for their sport."

**note: apologies to the great john prine for butchering his song Dear Abby.

Snapshots: Tucker's Pain Song

(D) four score and seven lies a(C)go

you (G) told me that you (D) love me

that i'm your (C) man (G)

so i (D) went and bought a platinum quarter (C) carat

and got the (G) blessing from your (D) daddy

we made our (C) plans (G)

i was (D) waiting at the altar with your

(C) little brother (G) tommy standing (D) by me

as my best (C) man (G)

but your (C) daddy called and said that you'd run
(G) off with carl the local weather(D)man (C) (D) (C)


(D) four score and seven nights a(C)go

i wrote a (G) song about your (D) lovin'

it went gold (C) (G)

the (D) papers said it touched a nerve

it (C) was the biggest (G) record kenny (D) chesney

had ever (C) sold (G)

it's (D) played at every wedding from ken(C)tucky

to miz(G)zou to califor(D)nia

so i'm (C) told (G)

i (C) wish 'em well, i wish 'em luck
i (G) wish i had your body here to (D) hold (C) (D) (C)


(D) four score and seven drinks a(C)go

i was (G) thinking i'd for(D)get you

find someone (C) new (G)

(D) start another chapter in this

(C) misbegotten (G) story of an (D) songman

of talents (C) few (G)

but (D) every time i'd meet a girl she'd

(C) smile and shake her (G) head and say she's (D) sorry

like she (C) knew (G)

the (C) man you'd left behind was nothing
(G) but a hollow shell without a clue (D) (C) (D) (C)


(D) four score and seven prayers a(C)go

i was (G) looking for an (D) answer

it never (C) came (G)

(D) god the father, god the son, and

(C) god the holy (G) ghost weren't inte(D)rested

in casting (C) blame (G)

(D) every time i looked inside the

(C) dark place of my (G) mind i'd feel a (D) newfound

sense of (C) shame (G)

(C) one day i'll get over you but
(G) i'm not gonna ever be the same (D) (C) (D) (C) (D) (C) (D)

Great Exhumations

"i smell a life-changing meal in my future, danny boy!" gavin cardigan said as he entered Poor Yorick's Pub.

"i don't know anybody who needs it more," danny grinned as he poured an ale. "chipotle chicken tacos will appear on your table shortly."

cardigan grunted his thanks and walked back to join his friends. "what's going on?"

"we're wondering about the ghost," sierra charles told him. "you know, what's his story."

"what ghost?"

"that ghost," marian elfman pointed over his shoulder. "sitting at the end of the bar over there."

cardigan turned around and saw the wispy image of a tall, well-built man with a lion's mane of hair and a full beard to go along with a full tankard of ale.

"did you ask the witches?" he indicated the three crones at the other table.

"not our ghost," pearl, the white-haired harridan, stated.

"we're not that kind of witches," ruby added.

"what kind of witches are you, then?" danny asked as he delivered cardigan's tacos.

"the sexy kind," esmerelda winked at him.

the ghost suddenly guffawed. "ho, ho, ho! ho, ho, ho!"

cardigan and the others exchanged glances. after determining that they didn't fit anybody else, they returned the glances to their original owners.

"you can talk?" cardigan asked the ghost in surprise.

"of course i can talk!" the ghost boomed out. "come, come and know me better, man!"

taylor's eyebrows arched and he raised his hand, attempting to snap his fingers. "damn!"

"what is it, taylor?" marian eyed him quizzically.

his fingers elicited a few more phwff sounds until finally they made a legitimate snap sound. "got it!" he exclaimed triumphantly, knocking a beer glass over.

marian made a face. "got what, taylor?"

"i know that line," he said to the spectre. "you're the ghost of christmas present!"

"ho, ho, ho, right you are, young man! right you are!"

"but, it's october," the orange-tressed Mysterious Lurker pointed out. "it's not time for you, yet. we should have a scary ghost for halloween, like lizzy borden or the olsen twins."

"we spirits of christmas do not live for only one day of the year! nay, we live the entire 365¼!"

cardigan groaned. "a vampire, a dead founding father, witches, and now a ghost who speaks in fractions. i think burkie is getting a little carried away."

"i think he's cute," linda nulo commented. "you know, for a ghost."

"he's definitely got some definition," sierra agreed.

"ho, ho, ho!" the ghost ho'd. "i owe it all to Bowflex®!"

"ghosts work out?"

"we spirits of christmas don't work out only during life but throughout eternity!"

cardigan rolled his eyes as he chased down a bite of his taco with a swig of his ale. "tucker, why don't you sing us a song and restore a little normalcy here?"

tucker strummed a guitar chord and grinned. "you got it, hoss!"

my baby casts a fetching figure
she's got a face i can't remember
she don't cook but she's a winner
she's got a little spirit in 'er

she's the ghostess with the mostest
she's the best from coast to coastest
so raise your glass and make a toastest
to my ghostess with the mostest

"ho, ho, ho!"

"woo-hoo!"

cardigan signaled danny for another ale. "when will i learn..."

Snapshots: Life Is Good For A Guitar Man

(E) high school was a torture

(E) he never quite fit in

(E) the jocks & the geeks & the stoners

(E) they weren't what he called friends

(A) girls were on his radar screen

(A) but they just flew on by

(E) he learned what the teachers taught him

(E) but they never taught him why

(B7) but friday nights he'd step into

(A) a whole new different world ((3 beats on the bass drum))

(E) hammer-on, hammer-on, slide and a (A) strum

uncle (E) ted's on bass and the (B7) preacher's on (E) drums

(E) playing all night with a rag-tag (A) band

(E) life is good for a (B7) guitar (E) man

(D) heyyyyyyy (A) heyyyyyy (E) hey

(D) heyyyyyyy (A) heyyyyyy (B7) hey

(E) his sister went to college

(E) his brother went to work

(E) his daddy died in combat

(E) his mama went to church

(A) but work & school were not exactly

(A) what he'd had in mind

(E) so he went out and accepted any gig that he could find

(B7) from coffee shops to weddings he could

(A) always find a stage ((3 beats on the bass drum))

(E) hammer-on, hammer-on, slide and a (A) strum

(E) tucker's in the house, every- (B7) -body (E) come

(E) going on the road, playing one-night (A) stands

(E) life is good for a (B7) guitar (E) man

(D) heyyyyyyy (A) heyyyyyy (E) hey

(D) heyyyyyyy (A) heyyyyyy (B7) hey

(E) he didn't stay in Hiltons

(E) he didn't have a bus

(E) he never signed a record deal

(E) 'cause it wasn't worth the fuss

(A) he had no health insurance

(A) nor retirement plan

(E) he never files his taxes

(E) he's an independent man

(B7) he traded his tomorrows for a

(A) lifetime of todays ((3 beats on the bass drum))

(E) hammer-on, hammer-on, slide and a (A) strum

(E) i bet you know where he's (B7) coming from

(E) from tennessee to oregon and down to (A) louzianne

(E) life is good for a (B7) guitar (E) man

(E) life's sure good for a (B7) guitar (E) man

(E) i bet you wanna be a (B7) guitar (E) man

Choose Your Adventure!

((special thanks/blame to Mira for the story idea that follows!))


"howdy, danny boy!" gavin cardigan entered Poor Yorick's Pub and greeted the owner. "what's for supper?"

"cajun chicken pasta," danny blake replied from behind the bar, pouring an ale for his friend.

"thank you, sir," cardigan bowed. "it is an honor to dine here."

he took his ale over to join the others. "what's up, everyone?"

"hi, cardigan," sierra charles greeted him. "we were just discussing marian's latest column."

"did you get a good question?" cardigan asked marian elfman, author of the syndicated advice column "Don't Be So Melodramatic!"

"no," marian pouted. "i haven't gotten any really good questions in a long time. i may have to resort to making up my own questions."

"isn't that unethical?" linda nulo asked.

"no, not really. in fact, if it's a question that somebody is likely struggling with but is too embarrassed to ask for help, it's actually kind of a public service."

"uh-huh." cardigan sounded skeptical.

"i'm going to check my email. maybe there's a good question there." marian's fingers clicked and clacked over the keyboard of her laptop, then paused. "oh, i have an email from benjamin franklin!"

"our benjamin franklin?" judge st. bishop stormed in at that moment. "he's using email now?"

"OMG!" marian shrieked. "listen!"

Dear Marian,

I hope this electronic letter finds you well. This iPhone gadget is quite extraordinary! At any rate, I'm excited to inform you that I've made a breakthrough in my research into building a device for traveling through time! I'm talking about purposeful, controlled time travel, not randomingly popping up in somebody's Pub based on the whims of a no-talent blogger. I am about to embark on my first journey. Wish me luck! I'm going to Boston, Massuchessets on March 10, 1876 to witness Alexander Graham Bell as he introduces the first telephone. Honestly, the only thing he could think of to say is "Mr. Watson, come here, I want you?!" The man has no sense of the moment!

The point of my letter, however, is to let you know my intentions. If you do not receive another electronic letter from me in 1 hour, then I fear my experiment may have gone awry and I may need assistance. I feel certain that that should not prove necessary, however, and I look forward to sharing my story with you.

Your friend,

Benjamin Franklin

"he sent this 3 hours ago and there's no follow-up! we have to save him, gavin!"

"i knew something like this would happen!" the judge grumbled, shaking his fist. "damn you, burkie!"

"how are we going to save him?" danny asked as he walked over to deliver cardigan's pasta. "we don't have a time machine."

"no, we don't. but h.g. wells invented one and it's in a museum right here in san francisco," cardigan pointed out. "according to the movie Time After Time, that is. we'll just go use that to go find mr. franklin."

"you do that," the Lurker said with a shake of her head. "i just saw the movie Hot Tub Time Machine and if i'm going to travel through time, i'd rather do it in a hot tub."

"not me," linda was shaking her head. "i'm going for the delorean in Back To The Future!"

"pardon me," a handsome man who looked a lot like eric bana walked in. "perhaps i can be of assistance? my name is henry detamble and i am chrono-impaired, which means i can travel through time."

"i'm with him!" sierra jumped up and went to him. "i'm sierra. this won't make me sick, will it?"

"well, no," detamble looked embarrassed. "but--"

"then let's go!"

the judge's thumbs were in overdrive sending a text message. "you guys go ahead. i'm contacting the ChronoGuard from jasper fforde's thursday next series. they respect the principles underlying time travel and understand the consequences of getting it wrong."

"listen, love." taylor elbowed marian, earning a scowl. "we should call up hermione granger from the Harry Potter series and use her time turner necklace thingie."

"do you know hermione granger?"

"yes. she interviewed me last year while doing research on vampires."

"you never told me that!" marian stomped her foot, scowling even more fiercely at taylor. "i want to meet hermione!"

the door burst open then and they turned to see foxy & julius/juliet charles rushing in. "we want to help!"

"foxy!" cardigan greeted her happily. "you guys can come with me. i'm planning to use h.g. wells' time machine to rescue mr. franklin."

"no, man. let's use the sonic transducer!" juliet stated excitedly.

"what's that?"

"it's the audio-vibratory physio-molecular transport device used by dr. frank-n-furter in the Rocky Horror Picture Show," juliet explained.

"but it was used to transport matter through space," the judge noted with a frown. "dr. everett scott only speculated that it could transport matter through time as well."

"it's time we found out, then," said juliet. "who's with me?"

gavin nodded. "right, i think time travel is too tricky for us to rely on just one method, but none of us should go alone."

"i'm going with henry," sierra stated defiantly, looking up at her traveling companion and adding a silent "woof!"

"taylor and i will go with hermione," marian said, looking both excited and anxious.

"ava!" the Lurker called, and burkie's friend ava reinier popped up. "we're going to time travel through a hot tub to find mr. franklin. get your swimsuit!"

"yay!"

"tucker, are you going with linda?"

tucker shook his head. "no, i'm prone to motion sickness. i'll think i'd better hang back here, in case mr. franklin shows up on his own."

"i'll go with linda," sgt. tarboom "boom-boom" shakalaka announced as she walked in. "i'll drive."

"like hell you will. it was my idea!"

boom-boom met linda's gaze and nodded. "fair enough."

"i won't be alone," the judge pointed out. "i'll be with a time travel professional from the ChronoGuard."

gavin nodded and looked around the room. "okay, so everybody has a partner except for juliet. who--"

"don't worry, everybody. i'm here to help!" heads turned and eyes rolled as dat rhaymes (AKA the black darter) strutted in, a blow gun strapped across his back. he bowed and kissed juliet's hand. "i'll protect you, m'lady."

juliet exchanged a look with sierra. "is he for real?"

sierra sighed. "dat, this is my brother juliet. juliet, dat is a vigilante who calls himself the black darter."

"well, aren't we the dressed-up pair!"

"all right, teams. let's go find mr. franklin!"

and now, a public service announcement from burkie:

dear readers, welcome to the Pub's first interactive adventure. that's right, you get to choose whose adventure you want to read. click on the link of your choice below to go to your next chapter.

gavin & foxy in the h.g. wells time machine

sierra & henry detamble

marian, taylor, and hermione

Mysterious Lurker and burkie's friend ava in the hot tub time machine

the judge & the ChronoGuard

linda & boom-boom in the delorean from "back to the future"

juliet & the black darter in the sonic transducer