The Den of Debauchery's Subannex

Nightmare city.

I deliberately miswired a light fixture at my mother's with the intent of killing Wicked Stepfather (her second husband, divorced 20+ years now). When it exploded, it got Mom.

I hurried home. Wicked Stepfather changed all the locks except the basement. Mudd went up the stairs first and WS got him, slammed the door on me, and the stairs vanished, turning into an emergency pull-down ladder that resembled nothing so much as a diaoer changing station. The handle was well out of my reach.

Anyway, I got up the steps and found WS had Mudd tied up in bright orange webbing. I did a flying tackle, trying not to beat him senseless (how's that gonna look? burly 40 yo trucker beats 80 yo man?) and I realize he's crying. I give him hell.

"You have no right to tears. You didn't love her. you made our lives miserable for 15 years. Hell, you probably killed her!"

He just cried more, and kept fidgeting with a carved, red-velvet lined box. So I took the box away, stuffed him in a rubbermaid and piled stuff on top of it, rescued Mudd and left.


Note to Dream Fairy: Wicked Stepfather has been out of my life for 20 years. I appreciate him staying out.
A brief excerpt from our life.
He saw the man slow, dropping behind. As he watched, the man took a sidelong glance to get the girl's position. When she was almost in range, he stopped and slammed his elbow back to catch her in the gut, in a movement that would look accidental to anyone not watching the whole drama.

The girl had seen him slowing and matched him at the last instant, stopping out of range of his elbow. When he whirled on her in a fury, she smirked.

I was 14.

NOW, leave him buried like an unquiet zombie. Baby sister still has to deal with him. I don't. Pull another one of those and I cut off your poppers.

I was dreaming I was a widow. Somehow I was much younger and fertile, but the kiddos were the same ages they are now, and Bunny was about 16.

( cut to spare your boredom )

Talk about your bizarre dreams.

So there we were in a campus lounge (possibly at Rhodes, it didn't look like CBU or UMR) holding off the ravening hordes of Mordor. They breached the East Wall, and we all sprang in with whatever weapons we had.

I didn't know an RGIS inventory machine and scanner could shoot lasers. Not only that, it tracked how many I killed.

There was a brief respite, I was drinking tea, and jkb wandered in to discuss revisions. I pointed out the tumbril rolling up the road full of orcs and asked her to fight with us. "But I can't fight! I've forgotten my underwear!" I loaned her my white ones with the multicolored flowers (I think we had to belt them) and went back to the fray.

This time, there was a purple worm (just a small one) involved. The laser was no good, so i headed downstairs to the bridge. But my batteries were dead, so i picked up a claw-hammer. A big guy laughed and came for me with an axe. I dodged, and the dwarf got him. The dwarf sent me to the smithy to get a real axe or a war-hammer.

So down the walkways and paths into Solace I went, led by a dwarf I didn't know. (his hands were warm and callused) We got stopped by draconians. I passed myself off as a whore, saying the dwarf had bought me for the day, but I'd wander back and find them. A pair of Seekers tried to save me by screeching at me. I laughed and flashed my cleavage promising the higher-ranked he just needed a spot of good fornication to fix his temper.

I got my axe and headed back to war, but my alarm went off.

There was lots more. The students yeling and screaming and fighting. The local SCA barny to the rescue, the usual "we're all going to die" angst.

I'm not Angel.

Angel's at work, breaking her poor achy head on overdue notices and fine deposits.

I'm her evil twin, who got left home to nurse the cold.

I'm stretched out on a big comfy papasan in the solarium. Sweet Loreena McKinnet is on the stereo, and the poolboy who looks remarkably like Dirk Benedict (ca 1978) is spoonfeeding me lemon ice.

My houseman (who resembles Randolf Mantooth, ca 1975) is busily whipping me up some chicken and rice soup. When he delivers it to me, he'll pull the shades, cutting off the nice warm patch of sun that Thomas O'Leary (the cat) and I are lying in, and put Sunset Boulevard on the big-screen TV.

Poolboy will cover me up and feed me soup and cold gingerale.

Mmmm, I think I smell chocolate chip cookies and tea, too.

They're being so sweet to me. Mainly because I'm PMS'ing too and will redecorate the solarium with their vital organs if they cross me.

Hope Angel's having a nice day with her meatloaf TV dinner and changing the end of semester due date!

Either I've been spending too much time on IM with jkb or too much watching Harry Potter.

I was back in Rolla. A friend's house was going to be torn down, so she volunteered it for the Newman Center Haunted House that year. I was in charge and had everything set up. PJ gave me the go-ahead on the structural alterations.

I took Joanna out for a test walk-through to make sure everything was in place. Now, bear in mind this is a fund-raising haunted house: lots of rubber masks, lots of clown white make-up. We were just about to go in when Ramon (one of the workers) yelled "Look out! Mischief demon on the loose!" And sure enough the ugly critter was headed right for us. Joanna somehow froze it, in place over the door, and we decided to run the tour before it got loose.

We were the only ones in the house, and then we heard someone. She grabbed my hand, and we literally flew through the maze, plywood walls, dark halls, cotton spiderwebs and all. I kept trying to run, but my feet weren't on the ground and I couldn't stop screaming.

About then, my husband woke me up by crawling into bed.