Sputnik's Saga

[hedgiewan]

So, having slain the giantess who killed her father, Sputnik's family was avenged.

That's how it *should* end, anyway.

I got a call from the mechanic just as I was walking out the door today- the tensioner had broken, which is what caused the timing belt to loosen. Amazingly enough, the engine itself is fine. She should be all fixed up by tomorrow.

Now, I just need $500 more dollars. By tomorrow. Without resorting to selling Mya on ebay.

Pants.

In other confusing news, I seem to have two extra boxes of Thin Mints. How? I don't get it. I mean, not that Thin Mints are difficult to get rid of, if it comes to that, but they *should* belong to someone.

In other hilarious news, Evelyn Waugh is funny.

...Paul, firmly grasping the walking stick, faced his form.
"Listen," he said. "I don't care a damn what any of you are called, but if there's another word from anyone I shall keep you all in this afternoon."
"You can't keep me in," said Clutterbuck; "I'm going for a walk with Captain Grimes."
"Then I shall very nearly kill you with this stick. Meanwhile you will all write an essay on 'Self-indulgence.' There will be a prize of half a crown for the longest essay, irrespective of any possible merit."

(Decline and Fall, Penguin Books Ltd, New York. 1978.)

the hedge abides.

Comments

[433.livejournal.com]

Well, that's not the worst news in the world.

[hedgiewan.livejournal.com]

Not really, no.

Wanna buy a Mya?

[zillapook.livejournal.com]

Hey!

[gwyndolyn42.livejournal.com]

what's the warranty like?

*smirk*

[hedgiewan.livejournal.com]

pretty bad, really. her previous owner was lax about upkeep.

But you forgot how the battle ended . . . .

[clockworksidhe.livejournal.com]

As the giantess crashed to the ground, trees trembling about her, Sputnik strode through the ice and falling snow to stand beside the great head. Grabbing the giantess' central horn she vaulted up to stand upon the broad forehead looking down into the burning red eyes, still glowing with the last faint breath of life. Raising her gore spattered blade aloft, Sputnik let the blood slowly drip first into one eye and than the next crying, "See here your blood, and the last blood of your people. Your sons lay broken at the bottom of Traitors' Well. Your daughters' skulls I have used rebuild the towers of my father's castle. Your mate I fed piece by piece, leaving his still beating heart for last, to the great dog Gram. And you, you will die knowing that your kind will never more roam these hills. My husband is dead, my father is dead, my mother, my sisters, and my brothers, but their line lives on in me and the child I bear. Blood for blood and my line will outlast yours for a thousand generations, till the sun is devoured and the moon turns to blood and the great wolf breaks his bonds. Die knowing these things." And with these last words Sputnik plunged her sword down between the giantess' eyes, and the last dull red glints of life and hatred was extinguished.
But as she walked away, leaving the great body to feast the wolves and birds for many weeks to come, fire leaped through her blood. Sputnik gasped and fell, her hand clasping the single scratch the giantess' blade had made upon her cheek, unprotected as it was beneath her helm and above her corselet of fine linked mail. Coming away Sputnik found her fingers coated with black resin, the same which she had seen upon the giantess' knife. Unable to rise even to her knees, she cursed the poison that now laid her low, not tree spear flights from her foe.

[crowgoddess.livejournal.com]

thank goodness.

and the show in Albany turned out to be not only private but awful. sorry, yo. I'll figure out how to get my ass there sometime though.

no, I don't want the Thin Mints. I'm still not over Cookie Season PTSD. But I am to the point where I agree they should belong to someone.

[hedgiewan.livejournal.com]

Happy birthday!