Something a little silly
The CBB -> Cookies & Drabbles

#1: Something a little silly Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Thu Mar 18, 2004 8:40 pm


The TEM picked the last traces of a particularly delicious thread out from between his teeth and then burped, without excusing himself, because he was a very badly brought-up monster. “Eeny, meenie, miny” just as he was picking which thread to munch on next, he was arrested by the sound of angry voices. The sort of voices generally associated with pitchforks and flaming torches, and which are generally NOT likely to lead to monster longevity. The TEM sighed and shambled off to his secret lair to wait until those silly CBBers had stopped being so hysterical. They should stop writing such delicious stories if they didn’t want him to devour them… and as for leaving great big packets of biscuits lying about the place, well, they had only themselves to blame if THOSE got eaten.

Happily ensconced in his lair, the TEM put on his purple fluffy slippers and settled down with a copy of “Indiscriminate Devourers of Fiction Monthly” and some Rennies to wait until it was safe to eat again.

Outside, on the board, a large group of angry (anyone foolish enough to say “pre-menstrual” at this juncture will be next on the list once we’ve got the TEM) women had gathered. “He’s eaten Augusta TWICE in quick succession” said a plaintive voice (which I include as a sample of the lamentations being poured forth) followed by the complaint of a rather tetchy looking eighteen year old, to whom some trails of monster-drool still clung, despite all of her best efforts to wash them off. “Well at least he didn’t eat you!” Emily said, brushing (yet again) at her jeans in an attempt to remove the glowing slobber. “I’ve not been able to do ANY cello practice due to the trauma – and the dribble”. Several other people standing nearby whipped out their “excuse notebooks” and entered “I was eaten by the TEM” under “excuses to be used in truly desperate circumstances only”.

One of the mob used the opportunity presented by such a large crowd to sidle over to the weapons box (which had been brought out from the Prefects room for the purpose of arming those members deemed responsible enough) and start looking for the crossbow. Being small, she had hoped to go unnoticed, but Lesley, having written so much about Miss Annersley that she was starting to resemble her, right down to the eyesight, spotted her and made her put it back. “But it’s miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnneeeeeeeeee!” Vikki wailed, “KB’s just being mean not to let me have it…” as the Head Girl eyed her meaningfully Vikki’s complaints subsided to a low muttering, occasionally punctuated by what sounded strangely like growls.

The Head Girl grabbed the megaphone which had been kicking around on the “announcements” thread, and promptly silenced the crowd, and then pulled the Games Prefect forwards and handed her the megaphone. “Erm, um, well” began Xanthe, as coherent as ever “the thing is, well, um” at this point, before anyone died from boredom/frustration, Chloë took a hand. “She thinks she knows where the TEM comes from” she bellowed, the megaphone not being in any way necessary to render her audible “and she thinks we should go and hunt him down!” Xanthe glowered at her smaller sister before continuing “yes – I think he comes from within the books”. The collected members of the CBB looked at her, faces momentarily blank as they scanned their memories for any mentions of big ugly monsters stomping about the Alps eating works of fiction. Scanning over, the faces of the crowd took on a “humour the madwoman” expression, even as Rachel looked for somewhere to hide when the men in white coats turned up (why they always seemed to assume it was her they’d been called for she could never fathom).

“I’m not mad” Xanthe went on (trying to ignore the snickering of the rest of the Prefects) “think about it. The TEM has to come from somewhere, and I think he came from within the books. We all thought Armada were just [many things the censor would never approve of] useless editors but I think it was the TEM… he lurks in the books, nibbling away at things. And now he’s caught on to technology, and he’s come here to start on us. So what we need to do is go into the books and sort him – or maybe even them, there might well be more than one! - out.” Several members of the CBB were still looking at Xanthe in a way that implied they thought she must have taken one too many blows to the head with a lacrosse stick, while several others were starting to look thoughtful.

“So how are we meant to get into the books then?” Pat asked, her librarian damage-to-books-must-be-averted-at-all-costs instincts coming to the fore. “Um, well,” Xanthe began, looking remarkably like a rabbit trapped in the headlights (darn fluffy white tail) “what we need to do is…” [At which point followed the complete and comprehensive explanation, which used lots of big sciency sounding words which I shan’t bore you with here]. “So you’re saying,” Jennie said slowly, as if to be certain that she had heard the explanation correctly “that we BOUNCE into the books using the drabble trampolines?” “Well, that’s a highly simplified version of my remarkably cunning and complicated plan which even came with diagrams which no one seems to have appreciated but never mind – but yes, we bounce into the books”.
“Well how do we get back again?” asked Lisa_T, who had picked up one of Xanthe’s diagrams and was attempting to look appreciative of it. “You have to think yourself back.” Xanthe said, before launching into a full and complex explanation of exactly how this worked (again, with diagrams, which met with full and proper appreciation this time around). Catherine_B grinned “right, so when do we go then?”

Xanthe thrust the megaphone back at KB, accidentally almost thwacking Rachael with it as she did so, and vanished into the body of the Prefects. “Well first of all, we need to get into groups, and then assign certain books to each group – we need to be methodical.” Announced the Head Girl. At this statement the mathsy-sciency members of the board beamed, while several others looked totally dismayed. “We need to send in people who’ll be able to blend in – which means gold lame miniskirts are out” she added, looking at one or two members of the board rather pointedly. “Ideally we want people who’re interested in History, Drama and eviscerating monsters”. A forest of hands waved in the air to signify that, should the majority of the members of the CBB ever end up in “Who’s Who” those things would be listed under their interests.

“Each group should, ideally, have a trained first aider, or someone with medical knowledge with them (at which certain members of the board looked a bit less than gruntled) as well as the standard first aid kit.” Lesley, fainting with horror at the thought of using a CS first aid kit on anyone other than possibly the TEM was revived by the simple, if unorthodox method of throwing Bailey’s over her. “Sorry Lesley…” mumbled Vikki, looking guilty, as Lesley sat up choking and spluttering. Julie thoughtfully intervened at this point before anyone else could be “helpful”; leaving it to Mohini to explain that reviving drinks are meant to be given once the casualty has recovered consciousness. “As well as that,” KB continued, trying to stifle her giggles “we’ll want people with language skills - no, not THOSE sort of language skills” she snapped as some of the assembled members began to snicker and say things that would cause the censor to have a nervy b. “Oh, and of course, those who are going will all need proper training on the use of drabble trampolines”. The Head Girl scanned the crowd – “could you help with that Angel?”

Thus began some quite intensive training for those CBBers who had volunteered to bounce themselves into books. “2, 4, 6, 8, who will we eviscerate?” chanted Lesley happily, waving her sparkly pom-poms as she supervised the putting-together of the first aid kits. Vikki, having given up on trying to persuade KB that a crossbow would not be a glaring anachronism when she bounced into the 1920s/30s, was reconciled to her task of choosing provisions for the expeditions, with Chloe to assist her. Xanthe, coming over to check the list, pointed out that “chocolate, chocolate, more chocolate, cake and sweets” was not REALLY suitable, and went to find Mandyb75 in the hopes that she would either have her QM certificate or would just have more common sense than the other two. A screech of “I have to wear that!!!!” rent the air as Esmeralda was presented with her disguise, a highly realistic St Bernard (the dog, not the man) costume, almost distracting Jennie from her highly detailed research into places-where-kaffe-and-kuchen-can-easily-be-found. Dedicated soul that she is, she simply stuck her fingers into her ears, and kept reading, while Carolyn made notes on “local specialities we should all try to ensure we blend in”.

“A skirt! You want me to wear a skirt!!??!! No way. Never. Not if you paid me. Lots and lots of money and sherbet. Nope. Nuh-uh.” Chloë shook her head violently, looking at the dress that Xanthe had produced. “We could hack her hair a bit, and put her into boy’s things” put in Cumbrian_Rachel, shamelessly misquoting Corney as she ambled past, moving awkwardly in her unaccustomed long skirt. Rebecca, similarly clad, was protesting to KB about not being allowed to appear as a flying ace on the grounds she’d attract too much attention, while over in a corner Rachel was trying (unsuccessfully) to disguise her mental menagerie. “I think you’re going to have to leave them behind Rachel,” Susan said gently, as she beheld the bizarre badger in some awe as he was sporting a waistcoat and bowler hat, and smoking a cigar. “Suits me fine!” snapped the badger, who stomped off, muttering about how this was too bizarre even for him. Rachel, using her powers of persuasion (not to mention the carving knife) managed to send the sanity cow in undercover to a convenient Tirolean Alm, while the chastity cat was sent off to the Swiss books with instructions to befriend Minette. Watching the animals bounce into the books, Angel shuddered at the state of the drabble-trampolines.

Lesley having kindly volunteered to clean the trampolines, the first group, comprised of Chloe, Esmeralda and Vikki, readied themselves to bounce into the drabble. Gigagal swept Vikki with a metal detector before she got to the trampoline and confiscated the tiny crossbow Vikki had concealed beneath her hat. “So we’re bouncing into ‘Jo Of’” Vikki said, checking this for the forty-second time with Liss, who had all of the lists. “Yes, just at the bit where the puppies are about to be drowned”. Gigagal swept the metal detector over the large basket Chloë and Esmeralda had between them, but as it was clear, she didn’t look inside. The three of them positioned themselves on the drabble trampolines and began to bounce “Keep your legs together Chloë!” Angel shouted “not least as otherwise we’ll see your knickers!” Even as she imparted this invaluable piece of advice, the three CBBers disappeared into the book, with the chiming sound that you used to get on story-tapes to tell you when it was time to turn the page in the accompanying book.

Arrived at the spot where the puppies were to be drowned, and having got the original herdsman out of the way by means of simple bribery, Chloë and Esmeralda put their secret sub-plan into operation. As soon as the puppies hit the water, they were scooped out and replaced with soft toys from the basket, with the exception of Rufus, who was put back in just as Jo and Eigen appeared on the scene. Esmeralda, prompted by a kick from Chloë, who was concealed in some convenient bushes, began to howl most realistically, while Vikki looked suitably baffled by Joey’s polyglot haranguing of her. Zita and the puppies were bounced back into the CBB by Chloë, where they were given into the care of EmmaN. In the meantime, while the herdsman’s wife was weeping for joy at the second substantial bribe she’d received that day, and deciding that the “mad English” had their advantages, Esmeralda “was unchained and handed over to her temporary owner” and taken back to the Chalet. “…looking her gratitude out of her pathetic eyes [at least she didn’t have to wear a false moustache, unlike Vikki] She had reached a dog paradise. [she didn’t have to clear up after anyone] For the first time in months she had had a good meal. [not to cast nasturtiums on your cooking] She was in a warm place, with plenty of fresh, sweet hay for her bed [and wondering if she could steal some sheets and blankets]… what more could a sensible dog ask? [well not much, but then Esmeralda was NOT a dog…]”

In the meantime, Chloë and Vikki (who had discarded her herdsman disguise in favour of women’s clothing) had booked themselves into the Kron Prinz Karl and were enjoying Kaffee and Kuchen. “Wonder how Esmeralda’s getting along…” Vikki mused as she ate her fourth cream cake. “Fine I expect” Chloë replied, trying to drink her hot chocolate as decorously as possible. Herr Braun, who had been waiting for an opportunity to try and recruit Chloë for the school, broke in at this point to ask if they were enjoying their meal. “Yes thank you” Vikki replied politely, only to be somewhat thrown by his offering her a 50% discount on the cost of her stay if she’d enrol Chloë at the Chalet School as soon as possible. Chloë almost choked on her hot chocolate at this, and Vikki hastened to explain that her “cousin” was at a very good school which was temporarily closed owing to an unfortunate plumbing incident, and that she had no authority to move her in any case. Herr Braun moved off, disgruntled, but too polite to show it, and made a note to put spiders into the bathroom the pair would be using.

Esmeralda, stuck in the shed with a fairly confused puppy, was thinking. Mostly she was wondering how she’d allowed herself to be talked into this. Her pondering was disturbed by the appearance on the scene of a guilty-looking thirteen year old, with remarkably messy hair, who flopped down next to her on the hay. Having completed a discourse on the world which had nearly set Esmeralda howling again, Joey reached over and stroked “Zita’s” ears. “You know, looking at you, I’d almost think you understood me Zita old thing”. Luckily for all concerned, Madge’s voice was heard calling for her young sister, and Jo had to scarper sharpish. Rufus, who was quite aware that Esmeralda was NOT his mother, but equally, that she was evidently an okay sort of person, snuggled down happily next to her and went to sleep, and example which the rest of our intrepid adventurers were not long in following.

A few chapters and some strenuous detective work later, the CBBers had discovered the TEM. The next question was how to take him out. He was lurking in the Christmas scenes, and the CBBers were stumped as to how to finish him off. “Zita” being returned to her owners, Esmeralda was able to reappear in a form more easily recognisable as herself, and the three set off for Innsbruck. Trying to move stealthily “…occasionally there was a sharp ‘crack’ as a rotten bough snapped in the woods under its weight of snow” [well, that’s what EBD thought the noise was anyway] they made their way to the station, none of them qualifying for a queen’s-chair, despite Vikki’s hopeful hints on the subject. They arrived, exhausted in Innsbruck, and slept until the early afternoon – Chloë, in actual fact, had to be hauled bodily out of bed by the other two.

“An hour later they were walking up the Maria Theresien Strasse, all well muffled up, for it was bitterly cold in spite of the bright sunshine which made every place sparkle gaily. All round the town lay the great mountains, ringing it round like kindly giants guarding a great treasure. Under foot the snow crunched as the busy shoppers hurried along. There was no sound of wheels to be heard [as Vikki discarded the roller skates she had insisted on bringing]; but the street rang with the jingle of bells as the horses trotted up and down, drawing droschkes and sleighs. The shop windows were brave with scarlet paper and tinsel chains, and it was a difficult matter to get Joey along. She would insist in stopping every now and then to feast her eyes on the beauty round her.” The CBBers, for their part, were also stopping, trying to suss out the exact location of the TEM.

Inside the Hofkirche that evening, Vikki was engaged in counting and then re-counting the statues ringed round the tomb of the Emperor Maximillian. “There are DEFINITELY twenty-nine” she hissed at Esmeralda “and there are only meant to be twenty eight… but which one’s the TEM?” Stumped, the CBBers surveyed the statues, scrutinising them carefully. “I know how we can tell!” Chloë exclaimed suddenly (and a little too loudly in the hushed cathedral) as she produced a pack of Tim Tams KB had given her before they left and started to wave it at the statues. “Nope, nope, nope, nope, okay – that one’s dribbling… statues don’t normally dribble, do they?” The TEM slavered. “Chocolate. Yummy chocolate. Oh, sod the diet, it’s Christmas” he thought. It was the last thing he did think as Vikki whipped out her all-wooden crossbow that she’d made in hobbies club and dispatched the monster. “Um, time to be going, I think” Esmeralda squeaked, looking nervously at the crowd of people heading towards them. As the indignant Austrians (one of whom was pointing out that it said quite clearly in the cathedral guide that “Armbrüste sind hier Verboten”) bore down on them, the trio vanished, to the sound of the page-turning chimes.

Back on the board, the hugs-box shook slightly as the three dropped into it for a nice soft landing. “We got the T-E-M! We got the T-E-M!” sang Vikki, dancing (well, more wriggling as if she’d had an anthill related accident) ever so slightly as she did so, while Chloë, who had had the misfortune to land beneath her groaned slightly. When her groans no effect she simply shoved Vikki off, and then scrambled out of the hugs box to find her sister. “Did you record ‘Monarch of the Glen’ for me?” Chloë asked, her priorities well in order, even as her sister clung to her like a deranged velcro animal. Vikki, in the meantime, was trying to explain to KB about her handcrafted crossbow, helped by Abi who was still making a case for being allowed to take her sword into a book with her. Esmeralda, for her part, went to join some of the more relaxed-looking members of the board, who were having a surreptitious sleep on a drabble sofa, surrounded by empty bottles. Esmeralda made space for herself amongst them “shove up would you Jennie – I’m dog tired” and promptly fell asleep, thus missing the next group to bounce into a book.

Rachel, KB and Gigagal nervously prepared themselves to bounce into “The Chalet School Reunion”. Rachel, seated in an invalid chair (which she had spent some time adapting for her own comfort) was manoeuvred onto the trampoline and the others bounced hard enough to ping them all into the books, while Angel had a little sit down with a cup of hot sweet tea. “Freudesheim had been described as a happy house – a peaceful house – a welcoming house, but never yet had anyone described it as a quiet house. Less than ever did it merit that adjective on the first day of Jo’s house party.” This may well have something to do with the fact that the three CBBers were trying (unsuccessfully) to lurk unobtrusively nearby. Unsuccessfully due to Rachel’s contriving to lean (repeatedly) against the novelty car horn she had installed in the chair. Admittedly, it did play “The Red Sarafan” (scored, apparently, for whoopee cushion and drainpipe) but it was still drawing rather too much attention to them for KB’s liking. Rachel, happily reunited with the chastity cat, was largely oblivious to the stares she received, although one tourist regretted staring too hard as he was thwacked with a crutch as he came past. “I’m so sorry, my aunt has spasms!” Gigagal exclaimed with great presence of mind as he hobbled away, wincing and wishing he’d had the foresight to father some children before now.

Back at the Pension where they had rooms, the CBBers were trying to work out what to do until they could make the trip to Wahlstein with Con. KB was for spending the time checking the other “modifications” Rachel had made to the chair, a plan which that lady was firmly resisting. “The chair is an extension of my self” she said smugly “and so touching it is…well…like touching me… and basically, you can’t do it. That and I’ll clobber you with my crutches if you try anything!” That plan frustrated, they settled for spending the time trying as many Swiss delicacies as they could, in the interests, as KB said, of “increasing their cultural awareness”. Largely this meant chocolate of every brand available, and of course any cakes that happened to be going. Eventually the day for the trip to Wahlstein came, and the CBBers were at the station bright and early, ready to try and get good seats. Rachel had insisted on doing her hair particularly elaborately “in case EBD sees me, I wouldn’t want to look anything other than beautiful” for the occasion, and KB and gigagal, who both pretended to be utterly unconvinced by this were also looking rather smarter than usual. On the train “most of the other passengers were people from the valley, going to visit friends or relatives living on the upper slopes, but there were a few visitors” including the three CBBers who were squished into the front carriage of the train.

“The journey took a little over twenty minutes. [during which Rachel made EVERYONE in her carriage play I-spy] Then the train reached its terminus and came to a standstill. Everyone who had not already left it at one or other of the intermediate stations got out and scattered [determined, never again, to risk ending up spending twenty minutes trying to guess what the “something beginning with ‘B’” might be]”. “So what was it then?” Gigagal asked, her youthful curiosity getting the better of her. There was a scuffling sound from somewhere beneath Rachel’s seat. “Er, Rachel, I thought you’d left the chastity cat at the Pension, seeing as how there were all these attractive doctors around” said KB a little nervously. “I did” Rachel trilled sweetly, even as the gruff tones of the bizarre badger became clearly audible [what he said, however, was not printable, so I shall instead simply put s-p-o-o-n to give you a vague idea of the sentiments being expressed Wink] Before all hell could break loose [scary thought given that OOAOML runs that place…] Rachel suggested they move on towards the glacier where the TEM was, according to the chastity cat, lurking.

Rachel, bowling along in her 4-wheel drive, side-impact bar “invalid chair”, with off-road capabilities and CD player, looked pityingly at KB and gigagal who were having a little difficulty keeping up with her. She slowed down a little, to pull a hideous face at them and then sped off, sniggering to herself. Evidently, she relented, as when KB and gigagal arrived at the glacier, she presented them with chilled drinks (oh yes, there was a fridge on there as well) and some chocolate. “How on earth,” said gigagal nervously, eyeing the glacier “are we meant to get down there?” Rachel grinned. This was her moment, and, resisting the urge to break into the Martine McCutcheon song, she moved her chair towards the edge of the shelf. Before KB and gigagal could yank her back, she fired up the rocket launchers and started to edge away over the side of the glacier. “Didn’t you bring your jetpacks?” she asked the other two “Oh well, hop on then, and I’ll take you down with me”. Wondering, briefly , what would happen if they died in the book, and indeed if they could die in the book, and if Miss Annersley was anywhere about, if they might die in the book, gigagal and KB clung to the sides of the chair and allowed themselves to be lowered down towards the glacier.

Just below the shelf on which the group photo was to be taken, the TEM was lurking. Yesterday he had skulked, so today he was lurking. He was also working on his Elvis impression, and the sight of a TEM with an enormous quiff, doing the jailhouse rock, is enough to unnerve even the most intrepid monster-hunter. “Let’s rock, everybody, let’s rock. Everybody in the whole cell block. Was dancin’ to the jailhouse rock.” Warbled the TEM, trying to curl his lip and failing miserably. Jiving away, he failed to notice the appearance of the CBBers until he finished the song in grand style, which sent loose stones and earth skittering down onto them. “Thank you, thank you very much” he said, as he noticed his ‘audience’ who were frozen with horror before him. “Autographs, er, ladies?” he asked, with a flick of his quiff that nearly blinded him. The bizarre badger, at this point, decided that enough really was enough, and launched himself onto the TEM. It was like pro-wrestling but with less lycra. Rachel, enthusiastically shrieking directions, was pleased to see that the badger had perfected his body-blow techniques. At this juncture, KB decided enough was enough, and, for the good of the cause, happily became a cultural stereotype by despatching the TEM with a boomerang between the eyes. As it died, the TEM let out one last burst of ‘song’ and “The next moment the queer, groaning noises of the slowly-moving ice [actually, it was gigagal, who was NOT an Elvis fan] were drowned in a sudden roar [the TEM was a bass] and wild crashing. ‘What’s that?’ Grizel exclaimed, swinging round. Then, with horror in her voice, ‘That place where we were standing – it’s gone!’ They all followed the direction in which she was pointing with horrified eyes. [can anyone here point using their eyes?] It was as she had said. It had sheered clean off by the mountain slope.”

Underneath a large pile of debris, the CBBers were making the pleasing discovery that they were not dead, or even harmed. Rachel looked smug. “And no one believed me when I said I’d made a force-field.”
“When did you say that?” KB asked, racking her brains
“When I was six and three-quarters” Rachel returned, “they all mocked me… and look at me now… [at this point she broke off into evil cacklings, which subsided after she go the hiccups] of, course, I did it by reversing the polarity of my sonic screwdriver you know.” Rachel finished, triumphantly. Gigagal nodded, remembering why it was now that you weren’t meant to meet up with strangers from the internet. “Right then, time to go home” said KB, clicking the heels of her ruby slippers together, in direct breach of copyright, at which the other two took the hint (and the unconscious badger) and returned themselves to the CBB.

The three CBBers and the unconscious badger were greeted with rousing cheers on their return to the board – loud enough to revive the badger, a distinct relief to all those who’d feared Rachel would want them to first aid him. Liss, who was wearing a t-shirt declaring her to be “a fluffy bunny” (just in case anyone was in any doubt about this) announced that the next group would be bouncing into “Gay From China at the Chalet School” [guess who has a hardback??] in quarter of an hour, once their disguises were finished. Elisabeth, Annie and LitteredHearts (more commonly known as Kate) were dressed as scruffy evacuees, in the hopes that this would put people off from talking to them. They were also doing their best “London” accents, carefully copied from “Eastenders”, designed to stop people from questioning the veracity of their claims. “And if all else fails, I’ll spit at them!” Annie announced cheerfully, as the three of them bounced onto the platform at Newcastle station, avoided being walloped by a carriage door, and then bounced back again. “That was quick!” said Angel, who was sitting by the trampoline “Wrong chapter!” Kate exclaimed “Annie had the map upside down!” at which Annie started to squeak furiously, at a pitch which was somewhat ear-splitting, and almost drowned out the page-turning chimes as they bounced into the book at the correct point, specifically, Armiford station.

Arrived in the book, the three of them did their best to appear as composite-downtrodden-Londoners, based on extensive study of “Oliver!” “Mary Poppins” “My Fair Lady” “Goodnight Mr Tom” and anything else ‘suitable’ the board had been able to dredge up from their video collections. This meant, largely, that they moved in a worrying synchronised fashion, and kept bursting into song. Following a particularly moving rendition of “Feed The Birds”; a porter bustled over to them. “What d’you think you’re doing, look you?” he asked (EBD having tried her best to make him “Welsh”)
“Please mister,” Annie chirped, wiping her nose on her sleeve “we’re ‘vacuees…from London…me old china” she concluded hopefully. The porter sighed and looked around for the woman who was meant to meet all the evacuees. “Mo hychwaneg chanddyn!” he muttered, before telling them to stay where they were for the moment. Needless to say, the girls promptly scarpered as soon as his back was turned, impressively vaulting the station wall into the road outside. “Yn bwrw evacuees awron Ivor?” sniffed the local co-ordinator when she turned up at the station to collect them, even as the receding strains of “Maybe it’s because I’m a Londoner” (with accompanying dance routine) startled the crows flying above the road to Howells village. Deeply disgruntled at having got out of her bath for nothing, and well aware that it would now be cold and her rubber duck was going to be furious, she stalked off in high dudgeon, a shade that is very difficult to carry off successfully, leaving Ivor the porter to ruminate on the unfairness of life.

Arrived in Howells village, the CBBers set about trying to find somewhere to stay for a while. Realising that setting their request to song didn’t seem to be quite as successful as they’d thought it would be (at least, they didn’t think, judging from the tone of voice, that “blesio arhosa!” was a compliment) and that no one had been able to understand Elisabeth when she’d informed them that “me an’ my skin an’ blisters are avin’ a Captain Cook for a drum – we’re from London and we’re Murray-Mint. Course, we’re pear-halved an’ all, so we could do wiv some in the nude too.” Kate decided that next time, she was doing the asking. “’scuse me,” Kate said when the door of the last decent-sized house around Howells opened to reveal a kindly-looking lady. “Have you got any ‘vacuees staying wiv you?”
“No, I’ve not” replied Mrs Jones softly
“You ‘av now!” Kate said, and marched in, much to the surprise of Mrs Jones, who had hitherto served purely as a very minor character in the books, and who was pleased to discover that she could say something other than “let’s have all the hanes” “terrible the price of potatoes now” and “'Da' alaw'r alarch unig yn ddyfron”. (Though why she had the song of a lonely swan in her heart in the first place was anyone’s guess).

With the help of Mrs Jones (who was quietly quite bitter at not having been awarded the headship of the CS) the trio settled down to track the TEM. They didn’t venture into the village much, largely because they didn’t want to risk interfering with the plot, and also because their synchronous movements and tendency to sing at people unnerved the villagers. Mrs Jones discovered that it was not in fact the song of a lonely swan she had in her heart, but “As Long As He Needs Me”, which Annie, Elisabeth and Kate tended to sing while they were drooling over pictures of Dr Maynard they’d snapped for “surveillance purposes”. By dint of much hard work the girls made a shocking discovery about the identity of the TEM. “Blimey!” Annie exclaimed (having got so far into her role she was likely to need hypnotism to bring her back out of it) “would you Adam and Eve it!” Elisabeth sighed – “It must be the TEM – I’ve reversed the polarity of the TEM tracker seventy four times, I’ve fused the control of the neutron flow, I’ve recalibrated the particle light accelerator cyclotron, checked and rechecked the negative feedback circuit of the variable phase oscillator and it keeps coming up with the same result!” Mrs Jones, looking suitably impressed by this discourse, went to make some more Welsh Cakes, leaving the CBBers to lay their plans carefully.

“Meantime Miss Bubb had mounted her bicycle and set off down the avenue. She turned along the highroad, pedaling along and imagining the coming interview, when she would squash Lady Russell by announcing that she wished to be released at once from her engagement at the school.” She was so caught up in her smugness that she failed to notice that she was being pursued by three girls on unicycles (someone having misread their equipment request), who were singing “Be Back Soon” as loudly as they thought prudent. Unicycling is a tricky business, and by the time they got to the Roundhouse, Miss Bubb was on her way back to the road “having gone through the wood, opened the envelope Lady Russell had handed her, and examined its contents”. As she was counting her ill gotten gains, the CBBers leapt on her, in a beautifully choreographed and executed move, and wrestled her to the ground, singing all the time. Miss Bubb’s “aquiline” features hardened, and her cold, “slightly metallic” voice was harsh as she uttered all sorts of dire threats against them. Eventually, she recoursed to song, “Strong men tremble when they hear it! They've got cause enough to fear it! It's much blacker than they smear it! Nobody mentions my name!”
“That’s where you’re wrong, TEM!” Kate said quietly, signaling to Elisabeth to turn on the TEM-buster. With a gurgling glissando “Miss Bubb” was vaporised and “passed out of the ken of the Chalet School, and they never heard any more of her”.

“Right, so, um, this cheque then,” Elisabeth said thoughtfully “Who does it belong to now? I mean, if she doesn’t cash it Lady Russell will be suspicious.”
“I suppose we’d better do that then… with a letter of authorisation from her that happens to be in her writing with her signature and private details that I just happened to have written in a spare moment,” said Annie cheerfully.
“Right… and then we can stock up on copies of Josephine Bettany’s books for all the CBBers, as well as some things for the party,” Kate said happily, remounting her unicycle and leading the other two off down the road to Howell’s. After a quick change to appear respectable [I say nothing, absolutely nothing…] they caught the bus to Armiford and went to the bank. The cheque cashed and the books and certain other things bought, the three of them thought themselves back to the board, much to the consternation of Ivor, who saw them vanish, and promptly resolved to wear his glasses more often if he was going to keep seeing disappearing girls all over the place.

Back on the board, there were rejoicings. Drink, both alcoholic and non, flowed freely, and there were progressive games, sliding races and paper games for those who wanted to take part. The next team to go in were busy psyching themselves up, led by Lesley, who was taking the opportunity to use her pom-poms as she wasn’t allowed to take them with her. With a last, regretful shake of her pom-poms, Lesley climbed onto the trampoline where Xanthe and Carolyn were standing, looking highly nervous (and not just at Lesley’s enthusiastic use of her pom-poms). Their confidence having grown with the three successful book infiltrations, the CBBers had decided to risk a deliberate exploitation of an EBDism, and were sending Xanthe (seeing as the whole thing was her idea in the first place) in as a “random Guide”. Carolyn was going in as a generic peasant-type, of the sort which abounded, and Lesley was going in completely undercover – which was why she was dressed from head-to-toe in black, wearing night vision goggles and her face was streaked with camouflage paint. Carolyn was dressed in a dirndl, and was quietly swishing her skirts about, while Xanthe, in the rather heavy and uncomfortable Guide uniform of the time, was looking deeply uncomfortable. On the count of the three, they bounced into the book, the sound of chimes echoing round the “little grassy meadow, and before them, shining silver in the glow of the warm August sun, was the Baumersee, still, beautiful, and gleaming.”

“…for an hour and a half the little valley buzzed with excitement and chatter as the girls worked to get their camp into ship-shape condition.” Lesley, from the vantage point of a convenient tree, was watching them through her binoculars, trying to suppress her giggles at the sight of Xanthe trying desperately to remember how to roll a flag properly. Carolyn, in the meantime, had managed to write herself into the back story seamlessly, and was enjoying the sunshine and quiet. Peter the small sparkling purple leaf, who had come along for the ride was drenching himself in inspiration (at least, Carolyn HOPED that was what it was!) even as “the Guiders, with the last organising difficulty settled, ran off to call the girls and send them into their tents to change into bathing suits before they all took to the water like fish”. All except Xanthe, that is, who slunk out into the woods to rendez-vous with Lesley. Making her way through the woods as quietly as she could, Xanthe was aware of something moving through the trees above her. “That’s a REALLY big squirrel,” she thought, just as Lesley swung out of the trees and landed in front of her, wielding what looked worryingly like a Kalashnikov. Barely suppressing a terrified squeak, Xanthe shot two feet into the air and clutched at a tree. “I – you – the – don’t – wah” Xanthe panted incoherently a she slithered back to ground level.

Lesley, her short (dark) red hair pushed back with a band in a clear attempt to imitate a certain action hero (an attempt which was largely unsuccessful because Lesley had only been able to get a pink “Hello Kitty” sweatband) prodded Xanthe, who squeaked. “Ouch!” Xanthe snapped “What was that for?”
“You might be the TEM!” Lesley said, her eyes glinting dangerously
“Dressed like this?” Xanthe demanded “What sort of monster would wear navy knickers?”
“Oh okay then,” Lesley relented “but the tracker reckons it’s definitely somewhere near the camp. And I am SO ready to take it on!” she concluded excitedly, waving the pom-poms she had spent much of the afternoon fashioning from leaves and twigs. “Anyway, I need to get back; they only swim for fifteen minutes. And I need to work out how to look ‘fresh and glowing’ as well!” Xanthe said, preparing to scuttle away back to the campsite, where she was promptly sent wooding with assorted others. At suppertime Xanthe avoided drinking her milk by the simple method of redistributing it into the mugs of others “and when it was over and they had washed up and put everything ready for the night, they gathered round the campfire in a double circle and Miss Wilson started them on a round.”

“Such music had rarely been heard at the Baumersee, and it carried far on the still night air. By twos and threes, the people from the farms crept up through the woods, and peeped between the trees at the sight so strange to them.” It’s a good thing they were so fully occupied with spying on the Guides, as Carolyn and Lesley were using the opportunity to do some TEM hunting. Lesley, without a hint of a trace of irony (or indeed fashion sense) had added fluffy pink leg-warmers to her ensemble, and was enthusiastically crawling, commando-style, through the undergrowth, while Carolyn, possibly more sensibly, was walking along the path, wondering how she’d let herself be talked into this. Xanthe, singing as well as she could given that she’d had a minimum of time to acquaint herself with the songs mentioned, was horrified to discover that, apparently, where the text had “One or two of the others sang also”; she was one of those others. Rapidly running through the songs she knew that would not be wildly unsuitable/anachronistic and pitching in on the “Londonderry Air”, Xanthe nearly choked as she caught Lesley’s comments from the bush behind her. “I thought they were all meant to sing beautifully – it sounds like someone’s strangling a ferret!” Carolyn kicked at Lesley’s prone form, eliciting a slightly strangled squawk, which was thankfully muffled by Xanthe’s strangled ferret impersonation. Lesley and Carolyn continued hunting long after Xanthe and the rest of the Guides had been sent to bed, but to no avail. Eventually they gave up, Carolyn returning to her little farm, and Lesley to the tree in which she was sleeping for the duration of their stay in the book.

Lesley lay in her tree, contemplating matters, even as Jo insulted Miss Wilson from the pit. The TEM-locator had been bleeping consistently for the last few pages, and Lesley was starting to develop a theory about who, or rather what, the TEM was masquerading as. Carolyn, who was enjoying the break from life afforded by her role as an Austrian peasant (who had access to remarkable amounts of luscious cakes etc) was also doing some research into possible identities of the TEM, having ruled out the dog who invaded the food tent on the first night of camp by dipping him in TEM detector. Xanthe, for her part was being kept busy in her role as a CS Guide, improving on all sorts of skills-that-she-didn’t-need-in-modern-Guiding, like semaphore and latrine emptying (not activities that should ever be combined, may I add!) and had little time to consider the possible identity of the TEM, although mealtimes were leading her to the conclusion that if a voracious appetite was the only mark of the TEM it could be pretty well any of those present at the camp.

The book went on, and towards the end of chapter nine, Lesley went out of her tree. Literally, strictly literally. When the “corpse” had been partially raised from the lake, the TEM-detector had gone bananas (metaphorically) and had started bleeping like mad. Lesley radioed to Carolyn immediately: “this is the cliffhanger, do you receive me, over?”
“what do you want Lesley?”
“*noise of throat being cleared in a meaningful fashion*”
“*sigh* this is adventdrabbler1, receiving you loud and clear cliffhanger”
“the moose is loose, I repeat, the moose is loose, over”
“*sound of muffled laughter* will the loose moose *sniggers* drink juice or *sounds of Carolyn on the verge of hysterics* is the loose moose diffuse, over?”
“*sounds of Lesley wielding the Kalashnikov* he will drink juice, over and out!”

As a result of this “conversation”, both Carolyn and Lesley contrived to be present for the fishing-up of the mannequin. When the stew boiled over, distracting the entire camp, apparently, Xanthe seized her chance. Fishing around in her knicker-leg, she pulled out a small canister and sprayed the mannequin (the TEM, for anyone who’s not yet guessed!) in the eyes and then dragged it into the woods where Carolyn and Lesley were waiting. Lesley, having despatched the creature with the Kalashnikov (luckily, someone was blowing “come to the cookhouse door boys” which covered the sound asked what Xanthe had disabled the creature with. “Um, my ready wit?” Xanthe said, in a would-be innocent fashion, trying to stuff the canister back up her knicker-leg. Carolyn, wondering about the moral turpentine of her acquaintance, caught at her hand and took the canister from her. “Mace?” asked Lesley excitedly “CS gas?”
“Er, not exactly,” said Carolyn, showing Lesley the purple plastic casing of the object in question, “Seretide”. Muttering darkly about how surely this proved that certain peoples’ comments about the need to tie her inhaler to her were entirely unfounded, Xanthe thought herself back to the board, swiftly followed by the other two.

Arrived back on the board, Lesley, Carolyn and Xanthe were surrounded by the rest of the CBB, who were in high spirits. Well, for the most part they were. Catherine_B, Lulie and Ally were looking rather nervous. “I really REALLY don’t think this is going to work” Lulie said, looking down at herself in a slightly worried fashion.
“It will be fine,” Jennie said briskly “other than in ‘CS Oberland’ we hardly hear anything about the St Mildred’s girls – you can replace them NO problem” she said confidently. “Oh well,” said Ally, in a resigned tone as the climbed onto the drabble trampoline “here goes nothing…” As the little group vanished to the sound of the page-turning chimes, Xanthe hurried off to get changed. She had plans for these navy knickers, and she sniggered fairly evilly to herself as she scuttled off to find a nice big envelope for them. While Xanthe was plotting her [s]evil[/s] perfectly reasonable given the circumstances [s]revenge[/s] knicker-postage; the three CBBers who’d bounced into the background of “Excitements at the Chalet School” were busily trying to extract themselves and each other from the snowdrift in which they’d landed. “Ow! That’s my hair!” squeaked Ally as Lulie struggled to her feet and then hauled Ally out of the drift. “Where to now?” Catherine mused, but before either of the others had a chance to answer that question, Miss Wilson appeared, looking rather as if she had just had an unfortunate accident while tilting.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Miss Wilson enquired icily, as the CBBers struggled to keep their balance on the icy surface. “Struggling out of a snowdrift, Miss Wilson” replied Lulie with endearing honesty. Miss Wilson looked at her sharply, and concluded the three of them had been drinking. With a sigh, and making a mental note to check more carefully who the keys to the distillery and wine cellar were given to, Miss Wilson marched the three CBBers back to their cubeys and told them to sleep it off. When they awoke the next morning, they padded off to luxuriate in hot bubbly baths, before going down to a lavish and delicious breakfast. “This isn’t exactly how I thought it would be,” Catherine murmured to the others as, after breakfast they wandered off to amuse themselves as they wished. “At least it’ll give us plenty of time to track the TEM” Ally pointed out happily, as she admired a knitting pattern for a lime green twinset, and hunted for her workbag.

St Mildred’s, alongside their heavy drinking and gambling sessions, were also working on their annual pantomime. It was practically the only time they got to appear in the books, so they always made the most of it – especially those “Old Girls” who were dreading being shunted away out of the series and into the vortex where mere occasional plot devices lived. This year’s pantomime was “Aladdin” and Julie Lucy, having won the now traditional arm-wrestling competition, was producing, and playing the lead role. “It will be a success! People will talk of it for years! People will slide of their chairs and clutch at each other and HOWL with laughter! Auntie Joey will bore new girls with tales of it!” she exclaimed, attempting to rally the frankly apathetic young women “and there will be copious amounts of alcohol and lots of chocolate!” she added, which elicited a much more positive response, and the girls began to engage in planning the production. Catherine was recruited into the orchestra to play the flute, Ally joined that august body playing the horn, and Lulie was accorded the role of the Emperor. “…a big girl!” Lulie squeaked indignantly to the others, “that’s what EBD calls me! Do you think I’m fat? Really, no honestly?” The others hastened to reassure her that this was not the case at all, and then went to join the others playing strip-poker in the hall with Gaudenz and some of the doctors from the San. This, of course, is the real reason that the pupils of the school proper had been told “The doors will be locked, once we are all assembled, but don’t come trotting along and trying to come in for any reason whatsoever – unless, of course, the place is on fire”.

TEM hunting is difficult when you’re hungover, and after apprehending a dressing-gown, three pot-plants and Miss Wilson’s teddy-bear on suspicion-of-being-the-TEM, the CBBers decided that a slightly more sober approach might be needed. “I still think that aspidistra was looking at me funny,” Lulie muttered, even as they tipped the last of the Bailey’s down the sink. “Well Miss Wilson said she’d expel whoever it was that took Hartwig, if she ever catches up with them, so we need to tread carefully,” Ally said, as she regretfully rinsed the last traces of the bottle away. Just at this point, Julie fell into the bathroom, and any further conversation about TEM-hunting had to be suspended until they’d managed to get Julie in the vague direction of a toilet. Singing loudly to herself, Julie wondered vaguely about the identity of those three girls. “Doesn’t matter…” she decided blurrily “they weren’t at the school…they weren’t ever Head Girl… bet they’ve never had peritonitis either”. None of the CBBers had expected Julie Lucy to know the words to “the Hedgehog Song” and they were listening in some awe, which increased as she moved seamlessly into “A Wizard’s Staff has a Knob on the End”. Just at that point, Gillian Culver stumbled into the bathroom. “Right, we’re all going to Interlaken to go to the casino, and then probably, to get drunk – who’s coming?” The three CBBers looked at each other, and then answered all together “I am!”

“Miss Wilson,” Lulie asked, (her endearing honesty coming to the fore again) as they were wandering through the quiet streets of Interlaken on their way back to St Mildred’s “what are you going to do with that man and his wife and daughters?”
“Well, domestic help is so hard to get these days,” Miss Wilson hiccupped happily “I can usually find someone who’s prepared to make a bet they shouldn’t…” From this it may be seen that, though they’d had a REALLY good night out, the TEM had not been forthcoming, despite thorough and vigilant searches. [Lulie was still trying to convince the others that strip-searching was the best plan, in case the TEM was masquerading as someone very attractive.] The three CBBers kept looking for the TEM, up to the time they went for the final rehearsal at St Luke’s Hall. This was the rehearsal at which Nina was conducting and she came back: “in such a state of gloom that Mary-Lou caught her at the first opportunity and demanded to be told what happened. ‘Everything, I should think!’ Nina returned in tragic tones. ‘The entire orchestra broke down twice – and over passages they know quite well! [They hadn’t quite sobered up yet…] That tall girl from St Mildred’s with the glasses – what’s her name? – Oh Stella Johnson! [said Nina, randomly assigning a name to Catherine, as EBD hadn’t been sufficiently interested] – well, she plays the flute and what she thought she was doing, I don’t know; but she began the flute cadenza an octave too high and went on squeaking up to the top and then when she couldn’t get any higher, she dropped back and you never heard anything so awful! It was like a railway whistle gone mad when she was screeching at her top notes!”

Of course, there was a good reason Catherine had done this. The good reason answering to the name of TEM. Sitting in the orchestra pit, Catherine had felt the TEM tracker vibrating in her pocket. This was enough to shove the cadenza up an octave, even as she used the eyebrow-telegraph to signal to Ally, who luckily realised what was going on, unlike the rest of the orchestra, who thought Catherine was having some kind of facial spasm. This discovery didn’t leave them much time to formulate a TEM-busting plan, but when they returned for the performance, they all knew what they had to do. As the panto went on, anyone paying attention to the orchestra would have seen Catherine slip something into her flute, and then breathe out a LITTLE harder than is usual when playing the flute. There was a thud from behind the grill under the stage and the gurgling sounds of a dying TEM. What no one had counted on, however, was the combustible nature of TEMS in certain circumstances. Lulie, seizing the moment, “elevated her nose, muttering ‘Funny smell of burning!’” and presently “from just at the far end of the orchestra pit, there rose, blue and wavering against the glow of the footlights, a thin wisp of smoke.” Eitel Schwarz was persuaded to take the rap for the CBBers who went back to the board, happily. “But how exactly DID you kill the TEM?” Ally asked Catherine as they were shimmering through imagination, taking care to avoid the tailback of unicorns. “Erm, well, my tendency to use my flute as a blowpipe is part of the reason I sang with CUMS, rather than played with them,” Catherine said, flushing ever so slightly, even as they reappeared in the middle of some wild yibbling, where Jennie, Kate (Katarzanya) and Pat were all getting ready to book-bounce.

Checking and rechecking their possessions anxiously, Jennie, Pat and Kate climbed onto the trampoline. In case anyone had wondered, women’s fashions of the 1940s were not, apparently, designed with trampolining in mind. Almost concussing themselves on their gasmask boxes, the three intrepid CBBers bounced themselves into “The Highland Twins at The Chalet School”. *Deedle-ur-durr, deedle-ur-durr, deedle-ur-durr-dee* “What did you bring that with you for?” *Deedle-ur-durr, deedle-ur-durr, deedle-ur-durr-dee* “I didn’t realise it was on!” *Deedle-ur-durr, deedle-ur-durr, deedle-ur-durr-dee* “Well switch it off!” *Deedle-ur-durr, deedle-ur-durr, deedle-ur-durr-dee* [scrabbling in handbag] “I can’t find it!” *Deedle-ur-durr, deedle-ur-durr, deedle-ur-durr-dee* [more scrabbling] “Got it!” *Deedle-ur-durr, deedle-ur-du* “Hello, I’m on the train –” [sounds of a scuffle] “Give me that!”
“But it might be important!”
“I’m sorry, Patricia is currently unable to take your call, as she is tracking down a dangerous monster, and I don’t mean her Line Manager”. With that Jennie switched off the phone and promptly confiscated it, just as the train steamed into Armiford Station.

Ivor the porter was on duty, and Kate promptly stopped him to ask the way to Howells village. “We’re looking for suitable placements for evacuees in the area,” she explained smoothly, although she was slightly distracted by the appearance of Jo Maynard, who was apparently having some kind of selective blindness as “It was some moments before Jo could get a sight of her quarry. Then she suddenly uttered a whoop which brought more than one pair of curious eyes on her” and went and accosted the MacDonalds, while Jennie, Pat and Kate set off for Howells by bus, which was a fun journey as the bus driver liked to sing to amuse himself, and was always prepared to take requests. They got off the bus in Howells Village, and set off to find Mrs Jones. Sadly, she’d not yet been thought of by EBD, so they ended up having to construct a building for themselves to stay in, using their drabble skills. It took some doing to persuade Jennie that turrets and a moat and drawbridge would attract too much attention to them, but eventually they had a comfortable looking, unobtrusive place to stay in, with the odd luxury such as a heated pool, widescreen TV with surround sound, and well-stocked bar not counting because none of the characters could see them…

They were not the only recent arrivals in the area, as anyone who knows the book will no doubt be thinking smugly. Yes, Malvina Featherstone, slightly singed around the edges, was now living quietly in Howells Village, and developing top secret weapons for the army. [What do you mean, you’d never noticed that before? You should read more carefully…] More to the point, there was a Nazi spy lurking about the place, and it was he that the CBBers were after. Evidently though, in the interests of the plot, they would have to bide their time. Difficult as it was, they somehow managed to occupy themselves (though it must be admitted that, after the seventh game of Monopoly they were getting a little bored) and lay their plans carefully. To be sure that the TEM wasn’t going to try anything funny, however, they decided to stalk him. Well, it was a combination of that, the boredom, and the fact that Jennie had borrowed the night vision goggles and was desperate to get to use them.

Having taken some style tips from Lesley, the trio readied themselves to set out into the night, dressed in ninja suits. Oh, and pastel-coloured legwarmers, and sweatbands that had been on special offer in “Girl Heaven”. Kate, who hadn’t been too convinced that lilac was her colour, was now getting quite into the look, and was trying to persuade the other two to let her carry a sub-machine-gun. “Please? Pretty please?” she whined shamelessly “I’ll be good… I spent ages making a shoulder strap for it” she continued, waving a glittery lilac object about “I’d co-ordinate beautifully!” Pat gave Kate her patented “angry-librarian-who-will-either-throw-you-out-or-just-alter-your-loans-record-so-you-have-a-ninety-year-fine” look, and she subsided, settling for taking a super-soaker, to which she was allowed to attach her customised shoulder-strap as a compromise. Moving stealthily, like shadows, almost, although mercifully without Cliff-the-zombie-Richard, the three made their way towards Plas Howell.

It was too tempting. “What harm can it do – they’re all asleep…” wheedled Jennie, who was desperate to get a closer look at the school. Pat and Kate, strangely enough, didn’t need too much persuading, and they crept towards the house. Kate, who, thanks no doubt to the legwarmers, was feeling strangely athletic (well, that, and like she REALLY needed to dance on the roof of a taxi…) decided to climb up a convenient tree and have a nosy. “You wouldn’t believe this!” she hissed, as she peered into Matron’s room “The woman’s obsessed! It’s frightening…”
“What?!? What is it??!!??” demanded Jennie, who was now debating climbing the tree herself. “Trolls!” Kate said, in a slightly high-pitched squeak “her room is full of trolls! I can’t BELIEVE EBD didn’t notice them! Ooh, they’re looking at me funny, I’m sure they are. And the hair – she’s plaited all of their hair. They look like dumpy CS girls who’ve had a shampooing accident! Euw, this is creepy, I’m moving.” So saying, Kate moved further along the branch, causing it to tap on the window of Miss Wilson’s room. That lady, remarkably (given the amount she’d had to drink) “woke up, and sat up in bed with a start. [Kate, peering through the window, did her best to look like a leaf] Some sixth sense warned her that all was not as it should be. She pushed the curly white hair out of her eyes, got quietly out of bed [so as not to wake Hartwig], and slipped on her white, quilted dressing-gown. Then she stole to the door and opened it softly and listened.”

Had Miss Wilson been in Robin’s room, she would have lost her job… oh, sorry, no, I mean, she would have head Pat calling “get out of that tree you silly dobbin!” to Kate. This, in case any of you had ever wondered, was what awoke Robin. “Quick, look, he’s over there!” Pat said, pointing excitedly at the figure emerging from the trees and sneaking towards the building, moving in a fashion that might suggest he had been spending his time off-page watching “Secret Squirrel”. The three CBBers pelted round to the side of the house in time to see him snag his trousers on the window-frame, giving him a quite serious wedgie. “Wonder how the school is for sopranos at the moment – maybe they could use him” Jennie snickered, as she listened to the sounds of his raiding the lockers. As the doors to the form room banged open, the three CBBers made haste to take up position in the rose-garden. The burglar splashed into the pond and “remained crouching in the pool against the base of the fountain, too much overcome to think straight. His eyes were shut and his voice was raised in lamentations of his past, mingled with promises of future amendment.” The CBBers, who were trying their utmost to look like water nymphs, giggled softly, something that went unnoticed as Robin was unsuccessfully tying to turn the fountain on. Realising it was well and truly frozen, the CBBers obliged by drenching the man with their super soakers. “It was too much. With a last howl he leapt to his feet, scrambled out of the pool on the further side, and tore off through the shrubbery before the two girls could interfere.”

The CBBers stayed where they were until the girls had vanished back into the house, and then went to check the TEM trap they had set in the shrubbery. Success – caught in between a series of highly dangerous-looking lasers, was the TEM. Of course, to the untrained eye it might have looked like a half-mask. But the CBBers knew otherwise. “You thought you could get the better of us did you!” Pat snarled, prodding it with her super-soaker. “I knew I should have taken that job with Zorro” thought the TEM, “or even done ‘Phantom’ – oh, if mother could see me now, about to be unpicked by an irate ex-English teacher”. As Jennie carefully unpicked the stitches, the TEM began to blur, and then vanished, in a small puff of dark smoke. “Right, so, back to the board then is it?” Pat said presently.
“Erm yes, I suppose so” Kate said, “though there’s something I wouldn’t mind trying first”. No-one ever believed the local cab-driver about what had happened to his car, though he swore until his dying day that the damage had been caused by three strangely dressed women, who had been singing about immortality...

Back on the board, Abi, Susan, and Cumbrian_Rachel were getting ready to bounce themselves into “Rivals of the Chalet School”. Xanthe, who ever since her return from “Camp” had been keeping very quiet, came over to offer them some advice. “Never ask anyone where the loo is,” she said “and if you can get hold of some more of these for me” she added, indicating the navy knickers she was holding “I’d be very grateful”. So saying she trotted back to her swirling vortex [doesn’t everyone have one??] and lobbed them in with a little giggle. “Did you see what it said on the note that was pinned to those?” C_Rachel said, looking a little perplexed.
“Something about not complying fully with uniform regulations” Susan replied, looking understandably puzzled. They had no time to ponder this further, however, as it was time for them to bounce into the book. As they climbed carefully onto the trampoline, Jennie, Pat and Kate reappeared in the “having a problem?” part of the board, singing so loudly that the page-turning-chimes were heard by none but those on the trampoline.

 


#2:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Thu Mar 18, 2004 8:42 pm


The three CBBers appeared at Buchau, near “the new chalet, which stood, bare and gaunt in its newness, not far from the Gasthaus or hotel, which, with the tiny chapel and one or two huts, made up the tiny hamlet of Buchau.” They were there before Jo et al turned up and had their refined slanging match, but Miss Browne was already there. She was “a tall woman, gaunt as the house itself [what sort of mad simile is that, may I ask??], and clad in grey tweeds. [which, I presume, the house was not, thus enabling people to tell the difference between them] She turned and looked at them as they drew near with a certain amount of interest in her keen grey eyes. Then her glance fell on [s]Joey[/s] Abi. She left her stand, and came over to them. ‘Forgive me for stopping you’ she began, in a somewhat hard metallic voice, “but I see that you have a school-girl with you, and I could not miss the opportunity of presenting you with one of my prospectuses, in case you should wish her to remain here for the sake of foreign languages.’ [“school-girl!” squawked Abi “I’m 20!”… C_Rachel very sensibly kicked her to shut her up, and the entire thing was missed by Miss Browne, who was waiting for Susan to give her some sort of answer]. ‘Prospectuses?’ gasped [s]Captain Humphries[/s] Susan, to whom she had addressed herself, seeing that [s]he[/s] she was obviously the [s]eldest[/s] most intelligent of the party. ‘Yes, I’m bringing my school here from England as an experiment,’ she said, ‘and I thought you might like your daughter to come here. We shall make a special feature of foreign languages,’ she went on…‘and there is nothing that gives a girl such aplomb and savoir-faire as travel or sojourn abroad in a strange land’.” Susan nodded, not unlike one of those nodding-dog thingys you can get to go in the car. “Oh but how perfect, I was almost despairing of what to do with Abi this year, but you’ve just solved that problem most effectively, most!” Susan gushed, while Abi looked on, dumbstruck. After a little more discussion, and the exchange of some money, Abi was entrusted into the care of Miss Brown, while her “mother” and “sister” wandered off to get rooms at the Gasthaus.

“I can’t believe this.” Abi thought, as she was led off by “the Fawn” (a nickname acquired due to the fact that the good lady had quite excessively hairy legs, I can only assume). “I’m a grown up. I can’t go back to school. This is absurd. It’s a bad dream. I will wake up. I have to wake up. I don’t want to do algebra! How could Susan do this to me!?” Over at the Gasthaus, C_Rachel was carefully asking for a room in her best German. “Oh, and would it be possible for us to have some holy water to wash with” she concluded, fully in keeping with the established pattern of the books. Susan snorted with mirth and hastened to explain to the bemused hotelier what was meant, even as he began to assure them that his hotel was absolutely vampire-free and he had the certificate to prove it. Miss Browne was unable to offer similar assurances to Abi (the certificate was in the post) but she made do, instead, with showing her round and explaining the many many rules which she would be expected to obey. “Of course, as you are here a little before term, perhaps we do not need to be as formal as we would be otherwise. You may call me auntie Ermintrude.” Abi, struck dumb at this incredible generosity (well, that was what Miss Browne assumed, anyway, which assumption was probably a good thing for Abi’s enduring health and happiness) did quite a good impression of a codfish in a blonde wig for a couple of minutes before saying weakly “thank you auntie Ermintrude” and going to unpack the trunk that had appeared for her.

In their room at the Gasthaus, Susan and C_Rachel were setting out the TEM tracking equipment. It was the most up-to-date and state-of-the-art stuff that anyone had been able to imagine, which meant it was shiny and silver and had lots of cool buttons and lights and came with polyphonic bleeps. “This is so cool” C_Rachel breathed, “do you think I could keep it when we’ve busted the TEM? I bet I could modify it to keep track of my socks in the college laundry-room…” Susan, who was trying to read the instruction manual, nodded absently. “I think I’m picking up a reading!” Susan squeaked suddenly, as the TEM detector started to make bleeping noises. “Nope, that would be the pizza-ordering function kicking in” C_Rachel said “it’s programmed to automatically provide us with things we want to eat.” Sadly, Abi was too far away for the TEM-detector to take her order, so she was stuck with a school meal, of a decidedly non yummy-delicious variety. “Eat up dear,” Miss Browne said in what was meant to be a cheerful and encouraging tone, but which sadly sounded like someone doing unspeakable things to a tin-opener “boiled cabbage is very good for you”.

Term went on, and Abi found her general knowledge increasing greatly, thanks to the careful attentions of the teaching staff at St Scholastika’s. “Mwahahahahahahahaha just think of my chances on ‘Who Wants To Be A Millionaire’ now” she cackled happily. “And as for ‘Trivial Pursuit’ – well, I’m gonna kick some righteous donkey!” Luckily for her, there was no-one present to witness this outburst, as it was unlikely anyone would fancy breaking her out of a mental hospital (mass detention of the CBB being the most likely outcome, as far as I can see…) Susan and C_Rachel had been TEM hunting in a rather serious fashion. The complex TEM-detector (which was so cool you could change the casing when you fancied, so at the time of writing it featured dancing bunnies) was proving invaluable to the CBBers, although it had not yet come up with anything definite. By process of elimination, Susan and Cumbrian_Rachel had worked out that the TEM was not disguised as any sort of cake or chocolate, though the jury was still out on sweets and biscuits. Abi was not faring as badly as you might have feared either, as she managed to get herself put on a “special diet” by Matron Rider (isn’t hypnotism a useful skill…). “Yes, I have an iron deficiency, which is best counteracted by eating chocolate,” Abi explained to Gypsy Carson one evening “Matron’s an absolute tyrant about it” she sighed “and as for the amount of cream I have to have for the calcium deficiency, well, it’s a nightmare. Of course, I was devastated to discover I’m allergic to cabbage.”

The book ticked by, it having been pretty nearly impossible to get a fix on the location of the TEM. Once the lake froze over, it became even more difficult, as on some occasions a most erratic pattern of rapid movement was picked up in shortish bursts. “I just don’t understand!” Susan said, utterly disconsolate as she watched the TEM apparently do a beautiful figure-of-eight move, followed by a loop-jump, an axel and then a very neat set of brackets. Just at that moment, however, she glanced out of the window, which happened to overlook the lake. A group of Chalet School girls were disporting themselves on the ice (is it just me, or does that sound a bit dodgy?); Jo Bettany amongst them. “Eureka!” Susan shouted
“I had a bath this morning!” C_Rachel said somewhat affrontedly, even as Susan began to gesticulate wildly, like a mime who is in quite severe pain. “The TEM – it’s an ice skate!” she finally gasped out, after C_Rachel’s guesses, which were hilariously wide of the mark, [“the TEM is John Travolta!?”] finally petered out. Once this realisation had been made, they hastened to contact Abi. Of course, they had to wait until it was dark to shine the signal into the sky, but as soon as Abi saw it, she leapt into action.

It was the fateful evening that certain of the Saints had decided to go skating without permission, and Abi debated joining them, assuming that this was where the action was going to take place. However, as she shinned down the drainpipe, taking great care not to snag her stockings as then she’d have to mend them, C_Rachel, concealed in the bushes, gave an owl call, designed to attract Abi’s attention. It worked – Abi was so startled by the hooting that she joined the other two with rather more speed than intended, as she was so surprised she fell off the drainpipe and landed on Susan. “We know what the TEM is!” C_Rachel exclaimed, while Susan recovered her breath and tried to discover whether or not her bones had in fact been shattered. “So you’re trying to tell me,” Abi said slowly, once the other two had completed their explanation, complete with diagrams done in felt-tip, “that the TEM is one of Jo Bettany’s ice-skates. Well, I certainly didn’t see THAT coming. How are we going to get hold of it though?”
“Well, we reckon her stuff will end up in Matron’s room… so what you need to do is to get in there and TEM bust.” Said C_Rachel enthusiastically (enthusiastically, because she wasn’t going to have to tangle with Matron Rider).
“Right, okay then,” said Abi, trying to look brave and fearless, and managing instead to look like a startled gerbil. Susan put a comforting hand on her shoulder, “I thought you might want this,” the older woman said, and handed Abi her favourite shiny sword, which she had been keeping safe for her while she was at school.

A severe allergic reaction to cabbage not being as exciting as near-drowning and the associated dramatic illnesses, Abi’s trip to Matron’s room was entirely overlooked by EBD. “Oh, the agony!” Abi cried, giving a truly Oscar-winning performance. “The torture… oh, I’m dying! Definitely dying!” Matron Rider took on the slightly trance-like facial expression which encounters with Abi-the-hypnotist induced in her. As it happened, Abi was genuinely looking a bit poorly, because she had nobly “accidentally” eaten some cabbage to authenticate her illness. “Let me get a doctor for you Abi,” Matron Rider said, “There are plenty of them around at the moment”. Biting back the instinctive response of “Oh yes please!” Abi gave a brave little sigh and said
“No, I know they’re busy with the others. I think *cough* if you get me some chocolate *cough* I might recover” she finished weakly, though anyone looking closely would have seen the glint in her eye. “Good grief – the chocolate cupboard is empty!” Matron Rider exclaimed as she went to get some from the store she used to ‘dose’ Abi with. [Outside, Susan and C_Rachel were happily “helping” Abi, by destroying the evidence of the chocolate-stealing.] “Don’t worry, I’ll go and get some! Stay there and breathe deeply Abigail.”
“Yes Matron,” Abi replied feebly, even as she felt for her sword under the mattress. As soon as Matron was out of the door, Abi leapt up and went over to the pile of clothing belonging to the two girls. “Ah-ha, evil ice skate of doom!” Abi cried “I have you now!” so saying she hacked one of the skates to pieces. The TEM grinned. “Missed!” he thought. Abi stood back, panting, and admiring the diced ice-skate. Just then, the TEM sneezed. “Bless you.” Said Abi, automatically. “Hang on – ice-skates don’t sneeze – I had the wrong one!”
“I didn’t sneeze,” said the TEM desperately “you’re hearing things… must be that cabbage allergy of yours”. Abi was not convinced, and the TEM was swiftly reduced to dust.

While Jo and Maureen were busy keeping everyone in the story on tenterhooks as to whether or not they were about to snuff it, Abi was in bed “recovering” from what her ‘mother’ angrily described as “a near-fatal cabbage reaction”. Miss Browne, at whom Susan was ranting, while C_Rachel did her best impression of Betina/Belinda Cratchit in the Muppet version of ‘A Christmas Carol’, looked somewhat taken aback, but as she couldn’t get a word in edgeways, look was all she did. “So in conclusion, Miss Browne, I shall be withdrawing Abi immediately!” Susan finished in grand style, before sweeping off to bear Abi away. When they arrived back on the board, Abi handed over all the navy-knickers they had accrued between them (68 pairs in all) to Xanthe, who gleefully flung them through the vortex, with the standard accompanying note. “Not such a ‘good girl’ now, am I?” she thought, cackling to herself while, on the other side of the vortex, the deserving recipient of this last batch was starting to realise that odd socks were the least of her knicker-drawer related problems, as pair after pair of navy-knickers rained down on her, a situation made even worse by the fact that she was at work.

While Xanthe was happily cascading knickers through the swirling vortex, Alex, BethC and Polly were getting ready to jump into “Prefects”. Kathy_S, who was monitoring the out-of-book TEM detector (well how do you think people knew vaguely where to jump to?) shook her head. “It’s hard to get an exact fix on the TEM in this one” she said, “it keeps cropping up – looks like it’s something that gets a lot of mentions. Could be a building, maybe a landscape feature, or possibly a character.” Polly sighed, and reflected that nothing in life is simple, not even the annihilation of monsters. “We need more time to analyse the statistics” Edith said firmly, even as the wiggly lines and blobs on the screen began to form a more coherent pattern. Kathy swiftly ran the programme alongside the text of the hardback and locked on to the TEM. She looked up, puzzled. “Er, I really don’t think Lesley’s going to like this” she whispered, looking round nervously. “What’s wrong?” Liss asked brightly, as she shuffled over, wrapped in a duvet. “I think the TEM is – is – is” Kathy stopped and gulped “I think it’s Hi-Miss Annersley”. There was a concerted gasp, in the style of all the worst pantomimes, a genre which seemed poised for takeover as Lesley bellowed “oh no she isn’t!” Kathy, her self-presentation instincts well to the fore made a dash for a convenient wardrobe and flung herself into it, and held the doors shut. Lesley dashed after her and hammered on the door. “What do you mean you think Hilda’s the TEM?” Lesley bellowed, continuing to hammer on the panelling. Kathy, trying very hard to disguise herself as a pair of Wellington boots, whimpered. “I didn’t say she definitely IS, but the evidence all suggests that…” Luckily for Kathy, Liss chose this moment to intervene. Flinging the duvet over Lesley’s head, Liss knocked her to the floor and sat on her. In the confusion, Alex, Polly and BethC bounced into the book, their departure almost unnoticed by the rest of the CBB.

 


#3:  Author: KBLocation: Melbourne, Australia PostPosted: Thu Mar 18, 2004 10:52 pm


*shrieks with laughter* Oh, I've missed this story! Xan, does this mean you've done more? *very, very hopeful*

 


#4:  Author: SusanLocation: Carlisle PostPosted: Fri Mar 19, 2004 3:15 am


Oh Xan it is so good to see this back. Really looking forward to more if you have written it.

 


#5:  Author: Kathy_SLocation: midwestern US PostPosted: Fri Mar 19, 2004 7:27 am


I think she just DID post something new. I'm sure I would have remembered such a narrow escape!

*just in case, checks archives. Confirms last recorded episode left a certain guider in a rain of navy knickers*

*Thanks Liss (and Xanthe) for the timely rescue*

*Begins chant*

 


#6:  Author: PatMacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Fri Mar 19, 2004 8:36 am


I really enjoyed reading that in one go! I'm not normally giggling at this hour of the morning (honest!) but today I can't stop.

Brilliant!

 


#7:  Author: LesleyLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Fri Mar 19, 2004 9:45 am


Laughing Laughing Laughing Laughing Laughing Laughing Laughing Laughing Laughing Laughing

Oh wonderful - Xanthe I'd forgotten just how funny this was!!

(And Hilda's not the TEM!)

 


#8:  Author: KBLocation: Melbourne, Australia PostPosted: Fri Mar 19, 2004 10:02 am


Hmm, I thought I remembered the skate episode. Maybe I'm going a little mad, or maybe the TEM got to it before it could be archived.

 


#9:  Author: NellLocation: London, England PostPosted: Fri Mar 19, 2004 11:01 am


no I remembered the ice skate too but not the part after it!! Thanks Xna this is great!!

 


#10:  Author: KBLocation: Melbourne, Australia PostPosted: Fri Mar 19, 2004 11:03 am


Thank you. I think I was going even more mad!

 


#11:  Author: Carolyn PLocation: Lancaster, England PostPosted: Fri Mar 19, 2004 12:04 pm


Oh, Xanthe, look forward to seeing how you bring this up to date. Thanks for reviving it.

 


#12:  Author: Kathy_SLocation: midwestern US PostPosted: Fri Mar 19, 2004 3:31 pm


No, neither of you is confused. The evil ice-skate of doom IS in the archives. I meant that the last paragraph archived was the one after that, in which "pair after pair of navy-knickers rained down."

 


#13:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Fri Mar 19, 2004 5:14 pm


Is there any more of this, Xanthe? I can hardly type for laughing.

 


#14:  Author: VikkiLocation: Possibly in hell! It's certainly hot enough....... PostPosted: Fri Mar 19, 2004 10:46 pm


*giggles wildly*
Go Xan!!!!
*wonders if anyone else understands the exact significance of the vortex and the navy knickers?*

 


#15:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 1:20 am


Well, my writing-more plans were well and truly scuppered today, but as tomorrow is also a day I shall see what I can do...

And Lesley, I make no promises Twisted Evil

 


#16:  Author: LesleyLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 1:28 am


*Sets fire to duvet and produces chain saw for wardrobe!*

ROFL ROFL ROFL

 


#17:  Author: VikkiLocation: Possibly in hell! It's certainly hot enough....... PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 1:31 am


*hopes Kathy got out through the secret passage*

 


#18:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 1:31 am


*extinguishes fire and confiscates chainsaw*

 


#19:  Author: LesleyLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 1:33 am


*Picks up Xanthe's severed hand from floor! - The other end of the chainsaw, Xanthe!*

 


#20:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 1:36 am


*goes funny shade of green*

euw bawling

 


#21:  Author: LesleyLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 1:40 am


Laughing Laughing Laughing

*Stitches Xanthe's hand back on - "there good as new!" - hides chainsaw behind back.*

 


#22:  Author: VikkiLocation: Possibly in hell! It's certainly hot enough....... PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 1:41 am


Lesley!! Look what you did?
Xan's fainted!! Can you help me bring her round?

 


#23:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 1:43 am


*revives enough to post* I'm not really happy with this...

Their arrival was also unnoticed, which was fortunate, because it is unlikely that any explanation as to how they came to be under Miss Annersley’s bed would have been acceptable. “Right, what do we do now?” Polly asked, in a low tone which, unlike a whisper, did not carry. “You could start,” replied Alex in a pained voice “by removing your elbow from my kidney”. BethC flipped up the valence and peeped out. “I think it’s safe,” she muttered, and the three of them crawled out into the middle of the Head’s room. Whatever else they had expected, it wasn’t this. The entire room was painted bright yellow, and the woodwork was black. On the far wall there was a large display case, with a balsa-wood hammer, a xylophone, a water-pistol and a magic wand. Scattered about the room was the collection of a woman obsessed, and the CBBers scurried over to the door, anxious to get out of there. As they opened the door, it tripped a mechanism which led to their exit being accompanied by gruff Yorkshire tones declaiming “bye-bye everybody, bye-bye”. As they skittered along the highly polished corridor, trying desperately to keep upright, they heard light steps approaching in the opposite direction. Slipping (literally) into a convenient alcove (thankfully no-one had decided to write any letters) the three held their collective breath as the footsteps passed. A few minutes later, when they judged themselves to be safe; they slipped out into the corridor and headed towards the kitchens.

 


#24:  Author: VikkiLocation: Possibly in hell! It's certainly hot enough....... PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 1:45 am


*giggles!*
*wonders why Miss A has a shrine to Sooty in her bedroom?*

 


#25:  Author: LesleyLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 1:47 am


What is a collection of a woman obsessed??? Desperate to know more!

More please Xanthe! Laughing

 


#26:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 1:48 am


Vikki: doesn't everyone???

Lesley: Vikki has guessed Very Happy

 


#27:  Author: LesleyLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 2:01 am


ROFL ROFL ROFL ROFL ROFL

Laughing too much to get any coherent sentence from me!

 


#28:  Author: VikkiLocation: Possibly in hell! It's certainly hot enough....... PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 2:04 am


*offers Lesley a glass of water to help calm her*

 


#29:  Author: EllieLocation: Lincolnshire PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 2:28 am


It's good to see this back Xanthe, it's great fun, but does this mean that someone is going to have to kill Hilda Shocked

 


#30:  Author: KBLocation: Melbourne, Australia PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 6:43 am


Or will Lesley gallantly leap in to save her...

 


#31:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 11:44 am


Well, I could tell you, but that would rather lessen the dramatic impact of what I had planned... Twisted Evil

 


#32:  Author: LesleyLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 11:58 am


Oh Xanthe! Thought you'd posted more story! (Goes off to sulk!)

 


#33:  Author: KBLocation: Melbourne, Australia PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 12:01 pm


Xanthe wrote:
Well, I could tell you, but that would rather lessen the dramatic impact of what I had planned... Twisted Evil


Or you could just post more and reveal all...

 


#34:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 12:08 pm


Afraid I can't post more until it's written my fluffy little friends!

 


#35:  Author: KBLocation: Melbourne, Australia PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 12:11 pm


Then go away and write it!

 


#36:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 12:22 pm


tongue ratbag...

 


#37:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 1:38 pm


Xanthe, Is that any way to talk?

 


#38:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 1:41 pm


Ye-es... Mr. Green it is MY way to talk!

 


#39:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 2:13 pm


Alex, Polly and BethC were disguised as maids. [pauses to allow certain people to drag their minds out of the gutter] Karen, who kept an enormous staff, could rarely recognise any of them even on the rare occasions she was sober, so the three CBBers were safe. Well, safety is relative, as Karen and Gaudenz liked (possibly anachronistically, but why let things like a linear perception of time get in the way of my story?) to get the kitchen staff to re-enact scenes from “The Sound of Music” – and they thought Alex would make an ideal Gretl. Alex, with an agility she had never realised she possessed, had managed to get up on top of one of the kitchen cupboards and was pressed against the wall, hissing and clawing like Minette when cornered. “I don’t want to wear a dress made out of curtains!” she wailed (in fluent German, obviously), as Gaudenz lifted her bodily off the top of the cupboard. “Schwachsinn auf Stelzen” he rumbled, slinging her over his shoulder and marching off. Polly and BethC gawped helplessly, and before they could dash to Alex’s aid they were shooed away by Karen with instructions to “go and clean something”. Seeing no alternative for it, they grabbed mops and buckets and set off purposefully, to clean the toilets…

 


#40:  Author: PatMacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 2:29 pm


*giggles helplessly*

 


#41:  Author: AlexLocation: Home again PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 3:48 pm


Not sure whether to shout "Yay I'm in a drabble" or "AAAAAAAAAAARGH! Save me from Gaudenz!"

This is soooo funny Xanthe!

 


#42:  Author: AbiLocation: Alton, Hants PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 4:03 pm


*squeaks with high-pitched laughter*

Oh Xanthe!! I'm so glad to see this back!

 


#43:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 5:06 pm


In the meantime, the TEM was having the time of its life. Swanning about in the Head’s study, drinking lemonade, and sniggering at exam papers. Oh yes, things were good for this monster, and no-one suspected a thing.

 


#44:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 5:33 pm


Oh dear, it's in the Study. Whatever next?

 


#45:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 5:35 pm


Well, as you wanted to know Jennie, this is what was next...

Lesley, out on the board, was fuming. She was also pacing. And ranting, in a way that would have shaken the rafters had the board had any. “Hilda is NOT the TEM” she bellowed at Rachael, who was attempting to sneak past. Kathy, who was still barricaded into the wardrobe, quaked, even as Rachael attempted to placate Lesley. “I’m sure she’s not,” Rachael said soothingly, looking around for somewhere to hide “it must be a case of mistaken identity”. This did not have the soothing affect intended, as Lesley almost exploded into a discourse on Hilda’s many virtues and complete lack of similarities with “a half-witted, cowardly, loathsome, slimy, slavering monster that needs exterminating now, or maybe sooner”. With this she flung her “Hello Kitty” headband to the floor in a gesture of despair (or maybe of fashion sense).
“I’m sure Alex and the others have almost found the TEM” Rachael said, desperately, edging away “and, er, anyway, um, I really have to be going. I’m in training for the national slidy-mat-race championships and…” so saying, she turned and fled, leaving Lesley to continue her rant in peace.

Back in the book, the three CBBers were again united, Polly and BethC having been recruited as audience members for Karen and Gaudenz’s musical extravaganza. The project had extended over the last few pages and now featured scenes from “Top Hat” “Singing in the Rain” and a selection from the works of Gilbert and Sullivan. They were not united for long, however, as Alex, who had been getting more and more grumpy, eventually lost her role as Gretl after she bit Karen during “My Favourite Things”. Therefore she was not allowed the “privilege” of watching, and was sent to dust Miss Annersley’s study instead. Polly and BethC, who would have given worlds to join her, sighed and settled back to watch Karen and Gaudenz attempt a rather complex tap routine.

 


#46:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 5:37 pm


Oh dear, whatever next?

Did you all notice my cunning plan there?

 


#47:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 5:39 pm


Sadly Jennie dearest, "whatever next" is not yet written so you'll have to wait a bit...

 


#48:  Author: LesleyLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 5:44 pm


*Lesley is actually giggling herself silly!!!*
Laughing Laughing Laughing Laughing Laughing Laughing Laughing Laughing

 


#49:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 5:50 pm


Next (ickle) bit...

Alex crept into the study, duster in hand, trying to work out whether she was more scared of the TEM, or of Gaudenz’s rendition of “Three Little Maids”. With the realisation that what Lesley would do to her if she obliterated Miss Annersley was even more scary, Alex set about dusting in a rather despondent way. “Well I suppose I should start looking for some evidence she’s the TEM,” Alex thought, as she trailed over to the desk. Not without some qualms, she began to flick through the papers that covered the surface of the desk. Letter from a parent, letter from another parent, acceptance slip from Mills & Boone, copy of the Upper VI’s timetable, letter from an old girl, letter from an ex staff-member, draft copy of the new prospectus, signed photo of Sooty, letter asking about music lessons, invitation to have Kaffee at St Mildred’s – there was nothing here to indicate Miss Annersley was guilty. As she heard footsteps approaching, Alex started guiltily and dived under the desk. The door opened slowly and two heads (belonging to Polly and BethC) peered round it. Alex slid out from under the desk and scuttled over to them. “It’s the interval,” Polly explained “so we managed to escape – have you found any proof yet?” she asked hopefully. Alex shook her head
“Nope, ‘fraid not” she replied, even as more footsteps were heard tapping along the corridor.

 


#50:  Author: LesleyLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 8:06 pm


acceptance slip from Mills & Boone,

signed photo of Sooty,

Don't know which of these disturbs me more!!! Laughing

More please Xanthe!

 


#51:  Author: ChelseaLocation: Your Imagination PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 8:29 pm


I have only just read this thread. And now my laughing muscles hurt and I think I just split open my war wounds!

 


#52:  Author: pimLocation: the place where public transport doesn't work properly! PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 9:16 pm


*chuckling madly* More pleeeeease!

 


#53:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 9:31 pm


With one accord, the three of them leapt into the cupboard where Miss Annersley kept her MA gown when she wasn’t wearing it, and waited. They heard the Head enter the room and go to sit at her desk. Miss Annersley sat down quietly, and opened the drawer of her desk. The three in the wardrobe heard a light tap on the window, which heralded the arrival of Jo Maynard. “Hello Hilda, just thought I’d drop by to get all the hanes” Jo said, in her customary breezy fashion. “Not much to report, really” Miss Annersley smiled “What’s that Sooty? Some of the middles tried to have a midnight feast?” Miss Annersley shook her head “those naughty middles!” In reply, Jo’s voice took on an alarmingly high pitch (rather like a certain panda-bear). “Well I hope you told Miss Annersley Sooty – oh you did, oh good.” The three in the wardrobe suppressed their sniggers. Polly pulled the TEM detector out of her pocket and it lit up the inside of the cupboard with its array of flashing lights. “It’s out there” murmured BethC, looking frightened. “Well, what to we do?” Alex muttered “We can’t just barge out into the middle of their puppet show and vaporise the monster!” Their problem was solved by the pealing of the bell, indicating it was time for Mittagessen. Miss Annersley and Jo vanished, and the CBBers, after waiting until they judged themselves to be safe, climbed out of the cupboard. The TEM detector was still flashing wildly. “Whatever the monster is,” Alex quavered “it’s still in here”. They cast about nervously, and as they moved closer to the desk, the TEM detector started buzzing, almost leaping out of Polly’s hands.

 


#54:  Author: LesleyLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 10:11 pm


Ooohhhh! Is it Sooty? Laughing

 


#55:  Author: PatMacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 10:19 pm


OH no! Not Sooty!

 


#56:  Author: ChloëLocation: London: when away from home planet! PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 11:10 pm


It soooo better not be Sooty if you know what's good for you Twisted Evil

 


#57:  Author: AlexLocation: Home again PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 11:34 pm


Is it the desk?

 


#58:  Author: Carolyn PLocation: Lancaster, England PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 11:47 pm


It's sooty, oh please, let it be sooty! Laughing

 


#59:  Author: RachelLocation: Plotting in my lair; sometimes in Hampshire, England, UK, Europe, Earth, Milky Way, Universe PostPosted: Sat Mar 20, 2004 11:57 pm


Xan, I will offer you part shares in my butter mountain if the TEM is Sooty.

Come on, write the next bit - you don't need to eat or sleep - both are extremely habit forming unnecessary devices to prevent people from posting on the CBB.

 


#60:  Author: Carolyn PLocation: Lancaster, England PostPosted: Sun Mar 21, 2004 12:14 am


Agrees fully with Rachel on this one!

 


#61:  Author: SusanLocation: Carlisle PostPosted: Sun Mar 21, 2004 2:53 am


agrees with Rachel and Carolyn - which is why I am here at this time of the morning

 


#62:  Author: Kathy_SLocation: midwestern US PostPosted: Sun Mar 21, 2004 5:03 am


Rather at a loss on the Sooty references, despite searching out a site with several film clips that help explain the squeaky voice comments, but still finding this hilarious! Particularly fascinated by Gaudenz' rendition of G&S.

Looking forward to Rachael's performance in the National Slidy-Mat Championships. How soon before this becomes an Olympic sport?

 


#63:  Author: KBLocation: Melbourne, Australia PostPosted: Sun Mar 21, 2004 7:28 am


*giggles inanely* Fantastic, Xan! For a moment, I thought it might be an MA gown. And I love the idea of Miss Annersley writing for Mills and Boon!

 


#64:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Sun Mar 21, 2004 1:03 pm


“Is it – you don’t think – it can’t be?” said Alex, with blinding coherency, gesticulating in a way that meant she suspected the contents of the desk drawers. They pulled the top one open, revealing Miss Annersley’s diary and a collection of papers. In the second drawer they discovered Sooty, Sweep, Soo, and a small book entitled “Sooty’s Guide to Behind-Closed-Doors Interviews”. The TEM detector (unlike the CBBers who couldn’t WAIT to get back and tell everyone that the CS girls lived in fear not of Miss Annersley but of her puppet shows) displayed no interest. They pulled open the bottom drawer, which was full of odds and ends – hair ribbons, a comb, a mirror, face powder – and a glasses case. BethC prodded the glasses case nervously. Polly was now clutching the TEM detector with both hands and trying to stop it from leaping at the glasses case as Alex risked opening it. Just as she did so, they heard footsteps heading along the corridor, and the sound of Miss Wilson’s voice “I’ll wait for Miss Annersley in her study, thank you Miggi”. There was no alternative – the CBBers grabbed the glasses and thought themselves back to the board. The TEM, realising something was up, began to struggle, and attempt (unsuccessfully) to change shape. When they arrived back on the board, Lesley was waiting for them. “So what was it then?” she snapped “What was it trying to make us think Hilda might be guilty?” mutely, BethC held out Miss Annersley’s reading glasses. Lesley opened her mouth, preparatory to telling the TEM exactly what she thought of it, and then stopped. The TEM had evaporated in sheer terror, leaving the CBBers victorious once more.

 


#65:  Author: AlexLocation: Home again PostPosted: Sun Mar 21, 2004 1:40 pm


Yay!!!!!!!! Very Happy

*determined to achieve 100 posts this morning*

 


#66:  Author: ChloëLocation: London: when away from home planet! PostPosted: Sun Mar 21, 2004 2:23 pm


See told you all Sooty was innocent Very Happy

 


#67:  Author: RachelLocation: Plotting in my lair; sometimes in Hampshire, England, UK, Europe, Earth, Milky Way, Universe PostPosted: Sun Mar 21, 2004 2:54 pm


Curse Sooty and his evil minions.

 


#68:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Sun Mar 21, 2004 3:00 pm


So that's the secret of a 'behind closed doors' interview. I wonder why more schools haven't taken it up?

 


#69:  Author: EllieLocation: Lincolnshire PostPosted: Sun Mar 21, 2004 3:04 pm


Oh Xanthe - I sooooo wanted it to be Sooty Sad Or Hilda
But at least the Tem was defeated - again, and it sounds as though Alex had lots of fun.

 


#70:  Author: ChloëLocation: London: when away from home planet! PostPosted: Sun Mar 21, 2004 3:10 pm


Very Happy Well she couldn't do that to many of you thought it and if she choosen him she would have been severly poked and if it had been Hilda would have had to face Lesley!

She's at her singing lesson now so hasn't written any more, i just checked!

 


#71:  Author: Kathy_SLocation: midwestern US PostPosted: Sun Mar 21, 2004 4:43 pm


Hilda, with a glasses case, not to mention its contents?
Wouldn't this have been suspicious, even without a TEM detector?
Or is there something you haven't told us, Xanthe?

*giggles*

 


#72:  Author: LesleyLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Sun Mar 21, 2004 9:25 pm


*Hopes to use new found skill at frightening monsters into evaporation when I face the M25 tomorrow!*

Love it, Xanthe! More please! Laughing

 


#73:  Author: RachelLocation: Plotting in my lair; sometimes in Hampshire, England, UK, Europe, Earth, Milky Way, Universe PostPosted: Sun Mar 21, 2004 9:29 pm


Now Xan, I know you are online right now, because you are logged in to Yahoo messenger!

Do your duty and write somemore of this! The only possible excuse for not writing this would be if you are writing a certain letter, but as I don't think you have any intention of writing THAT letter, and I am also fairly certain you don't really want us all to have a go at writing it for you, although I will happily do so if you promise faithfully to send the results to the coach comapny; have lost the train of my thoughts, wait and let me grab a taxi, oh yes, what it comes down to is: write more of this instead.

Welcome to rachel-logic.[/i]

 


#74:  Author: LesleyLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Sun Mar 21, 2004 9:57 pm


Rachel - hasn't Xanthe written her letter of complaint to National Coaches yet?

 


#75:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Sun Mar 21, 2004 10:40 pm


Embarassed um, not JUST yet Embarassed

 


#76:  Author: PatMacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Sun Mar 21, 2004 10:44 pm


Well write more of this then!

*joins the volunteers to write a letter of complaint, despite not knowing anything about the subject*

 


#77:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Sun Mar 21, 2004 10:56 pm


I reckon that could enliven the letter a bit then Pat!

 


#78:  Author: VikkiLocation: Possibly in hell! It's certainly hot enough....... PostPosted: Mon Mar 22, 2004 12:02 am


*giggles wildly and hysterically and chants at Xan!*

 


#79:  Author: PatMacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Mon Mar 22, 2004 12:04 am


Xanthe wrote:
I reckon that could enliven the letter a bit then Pat!


Can't see the problem, myself!

 


#80:  Author: MandyLocation: Derry, N.Ireland PostPosted: Mon Mar 22, 2004 12:58 am


ROFL ROFL ROFL ROFL ROFL ROFL ROFL

Xan, this is the first of the TEM threads that I've read. I have tears running down my face. I can't wait for more.

 


#81:  Author: KBLocation: Melbourne, Australia PostPosted: Mon Mar 22, 2004 7:15 am


Hooray! They got back safely! So what book is next?

 


#82:  Author: AbiLocation: Alton, Hants PostPosted: Mon Mar 22, 2004 4:47 pm


ROFLROFLROFLROFLROFLROFLROFLROFLROFLROFLROFLROFLROFL
Oh Xanthe!! It's too funny! *sobs weakly with laughter*

 


#83:  Author: AlexLocation: Home again PostPosted: Mon Mar 22, 2004 6:35 pm


What no more?

*Hoping for an(other) oppurtunity to slide of chair in true CS style*

 


#84:  Author: ChloëLocation: London: when away from home planet! PostPosted: Mon Mar 22, 2004 8:30 pm


Well i'lll be off in a minute to go pester Xan on behalf of all the CBBers of course and not from the pleasure i get from doing it Wink

But my brother was on the computer all day so she's hasn't any more written yet!

 


#85:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Mon Mar 22, 2004 9:09 pm


Chloe, just tell that brother of yours the the CBB is more important than his work.

 


#86:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Mon Mar 22, 2004 10:14 pm


I was doing my singing practice when Chloë came to pester me... and I am searching for inspiration at the moment... if I find any, I shall write some more!

 


#87:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Mon Mar 22, 2004 10:18 pm


Sending Xan a large packing case full of inspiration.

 


#88:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Mon Mar 22, 2004 10:32 pm


*waiting eagerly*

 


#89:  Author: RachelLocation: Plotting in my lair; sometimes in Hampshire, England, UK, Europe, Earth, Milky Way, Universe PostPosted: Mon Mar 22, 2004 10:47 pm


You mean MSN isn't inspiring enough Xan?

Pick a book, and send some people into it - see, it's easy!

 


#90:  Author: KBLocation: Melbourne, Australia PostPosted: Mon Mar 22, 2004 11:31 pm


Crying or Very sad I was hoping for even a little bit more... Crying or Very sad

 


#91:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Mon Mar 22, 2004 11:36 pm


Having been unable to get to the computer for most of today, having been in fairly severe pain for most of the evening, and now being sat in the dark, which makes typing difficult, afraid there'll be no more of this until tomorrow night at the very soonest.

 


#92:  Author: KBLocation: Melbourne, Australia PostPosted: Mon Mar 22, 2004 11:48 pm


Xan, you poor thing! *very gentle huggles*

 


#93:  Author: VikkiLocation: Possibly in hell! It's certainly hot enough....... PostPosted: Tue Mar 23, 2004 4:22 am


*huggles Xan very carefully*
What's wrong honey? (ie, what's causing the pain, is it your knees, or something else?)

 


#94:  Author: ChloëLocation: London: when away from home planet! PostPosted: Tue Mar 23, 2004 3:39 pm


Xanthe wrote:
Having been unable to get to the computer for most of today, having been in fairly severe pain for most of the evening, and now being sat in the dark, which makes typing difficult, afraid there'll be no more of this until tomorrow night at the very soonest.


Sorry but i need sleep and it's about the onlt time i don't pester you but maybe gonig out with Vikki today will give up soem more inspiration!

 


#95:  Author: PatMacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Tue Mar 23, 2004 6:35 pm


*Hoping Vikki was inspirational*

 


#96:  Author: VikkiLocation: Possibly in hell! It's certainly hot enough....... PostPosted: Wed Mar 24, 2004 1:42 am


Sorry, but I doubt I was! I don't tend to be terribly inspiring.......

 


#97:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Wed Mar 24, 2004 8:57 am


You were'nt UNinspiring, however, I had to use my time on the computer last night to write an application-thingy for a trip to Japan in the summer... and I am now finalising and quintuple-checking my plans for the AIDS awareness session I am running for Rangers tomorrow night, which is not a subject that leaves me feeling like writing something daft...

 


#98:  Author: MandyLocation: Derry, N.Ireland PostPosted: Wed Mar 24, 2004 9:52 am


I understand, it can be quite heavy, especially as you don't know what questions they'll throw at you.

 


#99:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Wed Mar 24, 2004 10:05 am


*looking petrified*

1) I don't really know the Rangers
2) this is for part of my Queen's Guide Award
3) this is the first time I've tried any sort of Peer-Education-type-happening

*eebling*

I will try to get a bit more of this written, but RL is a definite distraction so it might be a while.

 


#100:  Author: KB_2Location: Australia PostPosted: Wed Mar 24, 2004 10:06 am


Curse you, RL!!!

 


#101:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Wed Mar 24, 2004 10:10 am


Well, it's taken me almost a year to get to do the feedback from Innovate... *muttering* but now it is a very scary thing and I want to hide instead!

 


#102:  Author: MandyLocation: Derry, N.Ireland PostPosted: Wed Mar 24, 2004 10:14 am


Don't panic, and if they ask you anything you don't know say that's very interesting I'll find out for you and get back to you.

Don't be surprised if they know more than you! I've found that with my cross community group when we were doing Drugs and Alcohol.

 


#103:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Wed Mar 24, 2004 10:32 am


Thanks Mandy Mr. Green

I've just trained as an In4mer, so at least I sort-of-know how to run a Peer Ed session *crossing everything she can*

 


#104:  Author: ChloëLocation: London: when away from home planet! PostPosted: Wed Mar 24, 2004 7:23 pm


Hye i got all excited there was more drabble Sad

 


#105:  Author: VikkiLocation: Possibly in hell! It's certainly hot enough....... PostPosted: Thu Mar 25, 2004 1:51 am


Xan, just remember to wear your lucky knickers......... Wink

 


#106:  Author: RachelLocation: Plotting in my lair; sometimes in Hampshire, England, UK, Europe, Earth, Milky Way, Universe PostPosted: Thu Mar 25, 2004 10:27 am


Wouldn't the smell cancel out any lucky tendencies?

Oooops - sorry Xani! Wink



And when are you going to write the next chapter of this Xan? Surely you don't think you have defeated the TEM permanently? I reckon you are going to have to send groups of CBBers into every single book just to be on the safe side.

 


#107:  Author: Rachael PostPosted: Thu Mar 25, 2004 12:46 pm


*seconds the idea that the TEM must be "eviscerated" from every book!!*

Xan - I have only just read this, in full in one sitting!! Embarassed
It's fantastic - so cleverly written and hysterically funny!
Although in such circumstance I would not be trying to pacify Lesley at all - I would be running swiftly in the opposite direction!!

Anyway, I hope you'll forgive me ... but then I was otherwise engaged in training for the Slidy Mat Championship Wink Rolling Eyes
Which means I would be happy to join the TEM-Swatting task force sent into Barbara!! Wink

 


#108:  Author: ChloëLocation: London: when away from home planet! PostPosted: Thu Mar 25, 2004 7:03 pm


No0 fair still no more and she's back in cambridge for the evening

*sits down to plan ways in which to attach sibling to computer and force her to write more*

 


#109:  Author: RosieLocation: Huntingdonshire PostPosted: Thu Mar 25, 2004 7:22 pm


*contemplates mad dash to Cambridge to drag Xan back to computer*
*rejects idea upon realising I have no idea where abouts in Cambridge is...*

 


#110:  Author: ChloëLocation: London: when away from home planet! PostPosted: Thu Mar 25, 2004 7:36 pm


At a Ranger's meeting if that's any help!

 


#111:  Author: RosieLocation: Huntingdonshire PostPosted: Thu Mar 25, 2004 7:44 pm


Worryingly, I probably COULD track her down from that, but it gets a bit stalker-like and I think it'd scare her somewhat...

 


#112:  Author: ChloëLocation: London: when away from home planet! PostPosted: Thu Mar 25, 2004 8:14 pm


Twisted Evil And you say that like it's bad thing, but she does have a far to vivd imagination so it may actually kioll her with fear so maybe not!

 


#113:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Fri Mar 26, 2004 11:50 am


No, there is no more of this yet... someone going under my train last night on the way home rather left me feeling most unlike writing humour.

 


#114:  Author: Rachael PostPosted: Fri Mar 26, 2004 11:55 am


Oh Xan! How horrible!
*hugs*

 


#115:  Author: PatLocation: Doncaster PostPosted: Fri Mar 26, 2004 11:57 am


Xan that's dreadful! What a horrible thing to happen.

 


#116:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Fri Mar 26, 2004 1:08 pm


Oh Xan, what a terrible thing to hapen. Hope yopu're feeling better this morning.

 


#117:  Author: SusanLocation: Carlisle PostPosted: Fri Mar 26, 2004 3:50 pm


Oh Xan that was a horrible thing to happen. Hope you are feeling a lot better now and abole to write some more of this very excellent drabble soon.

 


#118:  Author: EllieLocation: Lincolnshire PostPosted: Fri Mar 26, 2004 5:05 pm


*Sends Xanthe loads of reassurance*

 


#119:  Author: VikkiLocation: Possibly in hell! It's certainly hot enough....... PostPosted: Fri Mar 26, 2004 10:25 pm


Oh gosh!!!! poor Xan!!!!!
Big huggles!!!!

 


#120:  Author: ChloëLocation: London: when away from home planet! PostPosted: Thu Apr 01, 2004 4:26 pm


Just thought i'd bring this back up to Xan's notice!

 


#121:  Author: RachelLocation: Plotting in my lair; sometimes in Hampshire, England, UK, Europe, Earth, Milky Way, Universe PostPosted: Thu Apr 01, 2004 5:03 pm


An excellent idea Chloë! I shall join your campaign . . .

XAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNN

May we have some more please? Wink

 


#122:  Author: JennieLocation: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Thu Apr 01, 2004 5:05 pm


Shouting from a different direction


Xan Xan Xan Xan

 


#123:  Author: VikkiLocation: Possibly in hell! It's certainly hot enough....... PostPosted: Thu Apr 01, 2004 8:07 pm


Oooh! Joins in chanting at Xan!!!!!

 


#124:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Thu Apr 01, 2004 8:14 pm


*deafened, dizzy and reeling*

um, my Plot Bunnies are mostly doing other things, which are not comic, and which are not CS...

 


#125:  Author: VikkiLocation: Possibly in hell! It's certainly hot enough....... PostPosted: Thu Apr 01, 2004 8:20 pm


*pokes the bunnies*

 


#126:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Thu Apr 01, 2004 8:32 pm


*watches as the PBs bundle vikki*

 


#127:  Author: MoraLocation: Lancaster PostPosted: Thu Apr 01, 2004 9:39 pm


*holds isdes*
*collapses on floor*
*takes inhaler*

That's better. Just read this through in one go and nearly died of laughter. Please please pretty please write some more Xan. I've never read a tEM thread, I've never read such a brilliantly funny concept... Is my sucking up working? Huh? Smile *tries out winning smile*

 


#128:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Thu Apr 01, 2004 9:55 pm


*looks solemn*

I could not possibly consider continuing if it is causing others to go asthmaticy, expecially if people on this board only post lungs back second-class...

 


#129:  Author: LesleyLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Thu Apr 01, 2004 10:00 pm


Oh Rats Xan - thought you'd posted more story! (sulky smilie!)

 


#130:  Author: VikkiLocation: Possibly in hell! It's certainly hot enough....... PostPosted: Thu Apr 01, 2004 10:03 pm


Xanthe wrote:
*looks solemn*

I could not possibly consider continuing if it is causing others to go asthmaticy, expecially if people on this board only post lungs back second-class...


*wonders whether anyone other than three others will get this reference.........*



And Lesley, now you know how it feels........ Twisted Evil

 


#131:  Author: MoraLocation: Lancaster PostPosted: Thu Apr 01, 2004 10:04 pm


*stacks inhalers up beside computer* See! No problem.

 


#132:  Author: XantheLocation: London/Cambridge PostPosted: Thu Apr 01, 2004 10:24 pm


Mora wrote:
*stacks inhalers up beside computer* See! No problem.


*looks at her (shiny) First Response Certificate*

I don't think I could take that risk...

(and Vikki: I was SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO confused just then!)

 


#133:  Author: Rachael PostPosted: Fri Apr 02, 2004 9:53 am


Xan!!

Please stop yibbling and get posting more of this!!

 


#134:  Author: MoraLocation: Lancaster PostPosted: Fri Apr 02, 2004 10:02 am


But you wouldn't want to be held responsible for the lynching I'm going to get if you use me as the reason for no more drabble... would you? Confused

 




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