Sunday, September 16, 2018

Cinema Files s1 p 12

Cinema Files
page 12, chapter 12

Drive-In Drama

I stood on the middle of the parking lot just before 4pm, smoothing down the edge of the grey trenchcoat nervously. Honestly, I don't know what was causing the butterflies more; the fact I was on an official case or that I didn't want Ryan to bump into Rudolph. Or Rudolph to bump into Ryan for that matter. It was becoming very clear, that none of the men in my life really seemed to want me hanging around any of the others. All for different reasons of course, but still.  My jitters were intensified when the sleek black car drove up; letting the sounds of the overly motorized window fill the air as it was opened. Detective Whitechapel smiled his too wicked smirk as he nodded for me to get in.

"You look nice." the words were spoken without a hint of sarcasm. "So our cover story is really basic. We've been together four years, we met when I came into your video store."

"We did meet when you came into the video store." I commented without thinking.  Ryan winked at me. I swear, even his facial ticks had a British accent. "And what do you do for a living? Should anyone ask. As I'm assuming you're undercover."

"I am a lowly office worker who pushes paperclips and counts copy ink." he said turning off the cd player. He'd been listening to a jazz cd when he'd pulled up. "You assume right. The team has been trying to get these guys for awhile now. A couple of embezzlers. No one's been able to get close enough to them yet." he guided the car onto the freeway.

"Wait. You said we were just the decoy." I replied as I squinted trying to see the scenery and cars zipping past us, but the tinted windows were too dark.

"We are." he went quiet again for a moment, unsure if he should be telling me much more of the actual case. "Look, Desdemona, all I need is for you to play the part of the doting wife. The main guy is all about family values and the whole suburban lifestyle. Smile, keep it simple like what your book club is reading..."

"I'm not in a book club."

"...talk about your favourite meatloaf recipe..."

"I'm vegetarian."

"...and whatever else wives find interesting."

"I'm not married."

"Tonight my dear, you are." Ryan winked at me again. "Since when?"

"Since when what?" I asked flipping now through the few cds he had sitting between us on the seat.

"Vegetarian?" Ryan shifted in his seat before looking at me in the rear view.

"Since college many many moons ago." I stopped flipping through the cds nearly laughing suddenly. "It's a bbq we're going to isn't it?" I watched as he blushed. "Don't worry I'm sure I won't die if I miss one meal."

I found myself staring at a painting just outside the hosts bathroom, a half glass of wine in hand as I waited for Detective Whitechapel to return. He'd been ushered into the company of half the husbands in the neighbourhood seconds after we had gotten there. I was left to awkwardly try to figure out how to fit in with the wives while Ryan traded tips on how to keep the car wax from smudging. It was like high school only with bank accounts. Not only did our hosts buy into the suburban ideal, it was like they were Stepfords. A total paint by numbers version of what suburban life looked like in movies. I immediately thought of  that scene in Edward Scissorhands where they throw the big bbq and all the horny housewives are feeding him trying to get his attention. Each one of them trying to outdo the other while not appearing like they were. That's how these neighbourhood wives seemed to be. Each had a mommy and me group they were running, each seemed to be on the council for this or that at the school making it seem way more important than it should have been. Ryan's plan to fit in failed to account for the fact I could pass as a doting wife, but there was no way in hell I could pass as a soccer mom.  I was politely snubbed the second I stepped foot over the threshold.   The sliding door to the backyard opened up suddenly, allowing not only the host husband and Ryan back into the house, but the sounds of the party itself. Detective Whitechapel was beside me in a half a heartbeat, his arm snuggly around my waist.  I had worn a basic black pants that draped in a mini flare from the knees down, and a black and white floral print sleeveless shirt. Of which I had just bought two hours before. All the other Stepford Mums were dressed in vintage style cocktail dresses. The kind that are all the rage with the rockabilly crowd.

"Did you learn anything new?" I asked still staring at the painting. It was of a goat standing in the middle of a fishing boat, the waters calm and reflective.

"Only that I could use another beer." Ryan said nodding to the host husband. We watched as he went back out to the patio getting one from the cooler nearest the pool. "I might need you to play the loving wife a bit longer. I need to get invited to another get together."


Tune in again for another installment of the Cinema Files starring your heroine...me(straight up story.  Stuck in an unfriendly group at dinner time. Talk about fresh hell.)

Thursday, September 13, 2018

Coffee Talk Sept 13th 2018

Spudguns! How's it on your end today? Great spiffy, happy to hear that.

We are 48 Days till Hallowe'en, and I have absolutely nothing to talk about whatsoever. Just thought I needed to come in and post something.  Just when things were getting nice here weather wise, we ended up this week with another mini heatwave. Blah! Not happy about that.

I am officially in the busiest time of the year for me. Hallowe'en season/October season. Yes, I know we're still in September, but that's neither here or there. There's holiday baking, gift baskets, get togethers, decorating etc, to get done. This is the first time though, that I'm turning 90% of it into blog posts/vlogs. So there's that.

Right, moving on. There should be a serial this weekend (Sunday Sept 16th 2018) and at lest one What that Movie Inspired Me to Do middle of next week.

Okay, that about covers today. I'll be back on the weekend.

Sunday, September 9, 2018

The Nosferatu Adventures s13 p12

The Nosferatu Adventures
page 342, chapter 342

Instability on Stage 5

Bryon cracked his neck as he let out a deep breath wringing his hands as he turned to look over his shoulder at the mirror.

Out of Time

An hour ago...

Our heroine, Edric and Vlad arrived back at Quentin's warehouse, Vlad refusing to even look at Nosferatu. The scene at the corner store had been stupid of her, and she knew it. The three stopped nearly in unison as they got closer to the building. For Edric it had only been a few weeks since he had last been there, but for our heroine years had past. She'd forgotten just how small the building actually was. But it was the smells hot in the air that caused the trio to stop cold. The female banshee snarled as she took a step forward, her top fangs suddenly exposed. Edric had no idea what was going on as he watched Vlad grab her by the waist pulling her back. The door opened suddenly but only a crack as the hellhound mix came bounding out of the doorway, Arthur behind. He turned locking the door, while the little furball strained against the leash.

"Keeping secrets are we?" Nosferatu snorted nodding her head in the direction of the building. She could smell the creature still inside. "Get off me." she shrugged off Vlad's embrace. Her stride was solid as she moved then towards Arthur. Sniffing our heroine spat at his feet, causing Twilight to yelp as the beast got out of the way; cowering behind Arthur's legs. "Unlock the door before I break it." her tone was just on the edge of becoming a roar. She sniffed again, this time because the hot smell of dog urine was now in the air. Twilight had decided the nearest edge of the wall was a good enough place as any to go since it seemed there would be no walk now. The little hellhound mix started jumping up and down his front paws treading air as he barked feverishly. He had so much to tell the female caretaker. "Why is that mutt still even here?" our heroine snorted in frustration gesturing mindlessly at Twilight. "Shouldn't it have gone back to hell or something when I lost that baby? Huh? Or when Odin returned the others to their reality?"

"Loki created it here in this reality. You know this." Vlad's own voice held a scolding to it. The hellhound stopped yelping and turned to look at the male as it sneezed then shivered. Twilight didn't understand the rest of what was said, but he did know it was said silently between Vlad and Nosferatu without them moving their lips. Our heroine had ripped the key chain out of Arthur's hand and was already inside.  Stomping across the room like an angry child set on destruction, our heroine threw back the curtains to expose the large portable tub.

"So this is what bit you." she sighed in disgust, her eyes flashing the pure white of the banshee. "A water sprite. How in the hell did a water sprite even get here to this reality?" the words were barely out of her mouth as she spotted the books and pages scattered across the dinning table and the rippling energy of the not fully closed portal. Her spine seemed to fuse together as a cold sweat broke out over her flesh. They needed to close the portal completely before Dax realized it was open. Our heroine could not risk the familiar discovering it and using it to cross into this reality.

"I was trying to bring you back." Arthur's words were barely a breath. Our heroine let out another deep sigh as she pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger.

"You could have gotten yourself killed. Like no coming back dead. Had a mermaid come through your little portal here and not just some mire sprite...stupid." she swore under her breath in a language that made the sprite giggle. "And what do you have to say for yourself?" she was now addressing the sprite. "Huh?" our heroine let her hand slap her thigh as she gestured towards the portal. "Why come through? What it was shinny so you had to touch?"

"It opened before me. I fell into it by accident." she said in the same language that had just made her giggle, her voice echoing like forgotten windchimes.

"Well, you're going back so don't get too comfortable. Do you have a name?"   The sprite just shook her head.  "No of course not cause that would make sense and why would we want to do that?" another deep sigh of frustration from our heroine as she crossed back to the others.  But before she could say anything else, the group found themselves starring in silent shock as a man dressed in all black fell out of the portal.


Tune in again for another installment of the Nosferatu Adventures starring your heroine...me(straight up story. Water, mirrors, glass, blood...)

Thursday, September 6, 2018

coffee talk sept 6th 2018

Spudguns! How's everything on your end? Great, spiffy, good to know.

We are 55 days till Hallowe'en, and it's a Thursday. Randomness as always leads the day. For those keeping score at home, I'm still dealing with the hand. But, the half cast-splint is off and I'm able to do a bit more. Which means, I'll have something for you in regards to the serials this weekend. (Sunday the 9th September 2018)

That's all I came in to say. See you on the weekend.

Monday, August 27, 2018

coffee talk aug 27th 2018

Spudguns! I know I missed the serial this week. I injured my hand on the weekend and am finding it difficult to type one handed. That is literally all I needed to say today.

we are 65 days from Hallowe'en.

I must now go put on a bra one handed. Should only take about five hours to do. Tying my shoes one handed is an all day event. 

Tuesday, August 21, 2018

Coffee Talk Aug 21st 2018

Spudguns! We're 71 days till Hallowe'en, and how does that make you feel today? I feel groovy about it.

Okay, so I haven't really done one of these in awhile, but the movies I'm looking forward to seeing in the next few months are  The Happytime Murders, Venom, Goosebumps 2, Ralph Breaks the Internet, Robin Hood.

Last week I mentioned I had watched a couple of movies on Netflix Canada and just didn't like them at all. Which is why I decided not to review them. I went back and flipped through them again, and...yeah I still can't find anything nice to say about them.  The Babysitter (2017) and Wild Oats (2016)  I know these two films got a lot of positive from fans, but I just didn't care for them at all. At lest I made it through those two, where as I didn't even get fifteen minutes into Father of the Year (2018) before turning it off.
When I started this blog and the movie challenge, one major rule was finishing the movie no matter what. Which was fine for the first year of the blog when I was actually doing the 'One Movie A Day Challenge' the first time around. Now that I'm just back to watching movies for the simple love of movies, I find my tastes have really changed. 

Okay guys, that's about it for today. I'll be back on the weekend with the next installment of the serials. (Sunday Aug 26th 2018)

Sunday, August 19, 2018

The Nosferatu Adventures s13 p11

The Nosferatu Adventures
page 341, chapter 341

Instability on Stage 5

Bryon hummed to himself as he checked his image in the mirror. Black eyeliner, check, fresh pink streak on the right front corner of his spiked jet black hair, check, black suit coat with studded skulls at the collar tips and cuff links, check. Turning sideways to admire his reflection, the short male stuck his tongue out clearly enjoying himself as he continued to sing. And why shouldn't he? He'd just signed the biggest deal of his career. A male version of Alice in Wonderland. Sure, it was a schlocky little straight to late night television, but it would be playing on Hallowe'en night with a guarantee of being repeated for the next five years. Royalties that would at lest keep rent taken care of for awhile. Checking the clock over the kitchen table, he figured if he didn't leave right then, he'd be late. Grabbing his keys Bryon headed out to the lobby of the building, and to the stairs.  The underground parking lot was smelling extra filthy with an underlay of rotten seafood. He didn't even want to think what the neighbours might have been up to for it to smell that way? The less he knew the better.  The short goth hit the unlock button on his keychain causing the black hearse in the corner to beep twice. The one without the company logo. Bryon had spent the last three years fixing up the company castaway. It was practically a showroom quality piece. In fact, he'd based the design on the one from his favourite movie; Curse of the Bats from the Bottom of the Hunchback's Dirty Bucket.  The interior of the vehicle was slime green leopard print, the wheel a wreath of carved bats, the same pattern on the rear view mirror only in chrome, while a small coffin x-mas ornament swung from it. The hood ornament was also a small chrome coffin with a skull sitting on top of it. It was a complete replica of the one from the movie driven by the main servant. The leader of the zombie drag racers. Bryon pulled up to the edge of the studio parking lot just in time to see a swarm of people huddled in a few awkward seeming groups. The car door slammed as he locked it, clearing his throat, his eyebrows knitted together in puzzlement.  Then his heart sank a notch at what he saw. Teenagers wearing fuzzy glow in the dark t-shirts with the image of Reuben Blacksmith on it. They were members of his fan club. Bryon walked past them cautiously doing his best to ignore their screams and chatter.  They'd worked together a few times before Reuben became famous.Checking his hair one last time in the window, Bryon let out a deep quick breath as he stepped over the threshold of the studio's main lobby.

Leaning over the edge of the bathroom sink, Bryon touched up his eyeliner as he recited his lines from scene four. The last two hours had been nothing but going over the script and standing around waiting for the head of the television station to officially welcome the cast. Of course, when he finally did arrive he mentioned that Reuben had been there for an interview on the local daytime talk show. Once again, Bryon had to wait in line because of Reuben. The thought distracted him, causing the dark haired male to stumble over his lines. Closing his eyes in order to clear his mind, the goth slapped both palms against his cheeks to bring his mind back around to the script. Another deep breath as he opened his eyes to stare into the mirror.

"But hark, the dusk is damp with humming birds and wine. The flask overflowing with broken promises and hurtful glares." he lowered his voice as he tilted his chin downward to deliver the next sentence with as much distrust as he could towards his reflection. "Know now not for who that you bring these things, but what..." he read ahead in the paragraph that said his character lifted a tea cup to toast. Raising his empty hand made him feel silly breaking his concentration once again. The bathroom door opened just as a knight in half his armor walked in. Taking that as a cue to return to the stage, Bryon picked up his script and squeezed past the larger actor. Someone with a clipboard ran up asking him his name and if he had any allergies for the lunch order. As he turned to talk to them, a flash caught his eye in the room behind the assistant. Bryon was dying to see the sets and couldn't help himself. Once the assistant was off again their head down over the clipboard, Bryon made his way quickly to the room. The door wasn't completely closed and squeaked a little when he pushed it open all the way. Thankfully no one else seemed to be in the hallways right then. The large storage room had rows of labeled boxes and bins on large industrial looking metal shelves, and rolling hangers of costumes as one would expect. But, it was the larger props in the back of the room that really caught his eyes. Particularly the giant mirror that was partly covered with a paint stained drop cloth. That's where he figured the flash had come from; the mirror simply catching the reflection of the lights. Pushing the drop cloth to the side of the it, Bryon ran his fingers over the edges. It was a 6'foot tall mirror encased in a thin black frame. Nothing special, nothing over the top as you would expect from a television prop. Just a normal looking mirror. Licking his lips, he felt a rush of disappointment as he began to cover it up again. "Shack." he brought his hand up to his mouth sucking the crimson droplets from his palm. He'd hooked his hand on a piece of the hanging wires cutting it. Not deep, but just enough of a scratch to draw blood. "All I need." he mumbled to himself as he grabbed hold of the mirror with both hands moving it enough to see the back.

That was his first mistake.

His blood left a small print on the side of the mirror. Not much, not even noticeable at first, specially after it was absorbed into the mirror itself.  Turning to make his way back out of the props room, Bryon had forgotten to secure the covering as his own reflection seemed to hesitate in the mirror before dissolving. Bryon thought he'd heard a thumping noise and turned back towards the mirror.

That was his second mistake.

He tripped, stumbling towards the mirror his hands out to brace himself. The dark haired goth swore again as he tumbled to the floor. Getting up slowly, he brushed the dirt from his black pants before looking up.  There was a room full of people staring at him. "So trick door. Nice." he said nervously unsure what area of the studio he was now in. But before he could ask, a woman had appeared as if by magick across the room grabbing him, hugging him tight.

"Bryon! Oh my god!" our heroine breathed as she buried her nose in his shoulder. Reaching up to untangle himself from her, Bryon tilted back a half step on his heels annoyed.

"Hi. Yeah. Is this rehearsal? Am I late?" he pointed to the floor taking yet another step back.

"What are you doing here?" she sniffed deeply. "Wait..."

"I'm sorry, do I know you from somewhere? Were we extras together on something and I just not remember?"

"You don't smell like you. Why don't you smell like you?" our heroine asked her nose practically pressed to the flesh just above his collar.  Wiggling out of her grasp, he turned back towards the mirror. Only there was no mirror. There was only an off coloured patch of wall that seemed to move like steam. A panic began to build in the dark haired human as he reached his hand through the wall before walking back through.


Tune in again for another installment of the Nosferatu Adventures starring your heroine...me(straight up story. Remember back in S4 p24...)