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24-07-2012, 05:01   #1
Agent Weebley
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Mound of Hostages

Chapter 1: Mound Of Hostages


This thread has become the Twilight Zone in and of itself!



I'm a little reticent to begin a new thread, because I am new here, but since this is post 25 for me, and I can now send/receive visitor messages and insert a signature . . . maybe I can step out a little now?

What if I was to start a new story . . . everyone bounces the story in different directions, based on what just happened.

I have been wandering around many threads here, but not speaking on too many of them. The Who Cares About Northern Ireland thread, the Who Were The Celts thread, the 2000 Year Old Coins Being Dug Up thread, and finally, the Migration from Specific Parts Of Ireland thread, all point me in one direction . . . Unity, Druids, Celts, Magic, and 10,000 BC to 10,000 AD.

One thing I will do is ask a lot of questions to myself while the story is moving along. People take the cues and chime in with more questions, answers or guiding talk, and the story moves along. In other words . . . we . . . are me . . . Oh, and anyone who wants to become a character and add to the story is quite welcome.

There is one caveat: I like to include at least 6 senses in my writing, so expect a lot of sight and sound; there will be a healthy smattering of music, video, links to other sites . . . a plethora . . . no . . . a myriad of links and embeds!

pickerooney, Old Goat, Gordon, Jeff Lebowski and Insect Overlord need to give me the OK for this project, as MegaLinking sets off alarms, it seems. I wouldn't want to be a gimp, create a scene, and start something that wasn't allowed!

The story begins as I stand on top of The Mound Of The Hostages in Tara, wondering whether The Father Of Ireland, Donn, will give me back my Aston Martin Rapide, as I need it to go to see my friend Steve, in Canada. This is where Donn originally stole it from me. It's really foggy out, and I really can't see much, so I begin wandering around a little. I can hear the hum of the M3 in the distance. My feet are getting a little bogged down, so I'm getting quite the booter right now, making me feel a little icky. Out of the fog wanders a man. No way . . . not _____ . . . he's dead!



TZ's dead, baby, TZed's Ded. Long live TZ!

Is anyone into it?

Last edited by Agent Weebley; 26-07-2012 at 03:15. Reason: Story name adjustment
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24-07-2012, 06:55   #2
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Thread split, as post is not related to TZ competition. I just picked some words at random for the title.
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24-07-2012, 09:07   #3
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myriad of hostages
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25-07-2012, 12:56   #4
 
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dead but his mind is still alive searching for a life he left behind somewhere hidden in this fog. and then he see my friendly face "can you help me, please. -- i don't know where i am. -- I'm confuse" i cant believe my eyes it old Donn himself but then i remember which released a anger that flys out of my mouth "OK you ****ing arsehole where is my Aston Martin rapide and don't ****ing lie to me" "what" say old donn "you heard. please don't tell me you crash my beautiful Aston Martin rapide" "whattt" say confuse old Donn "don't ****ing tell me you crash my beautiful Aston Martin rapide" "but I'm dead" cries out Donn "you ****ing will be" but then my phone rings "hello" it Steve who return me to a moment of calmness "oh hello Steve. yes I'm so looking forward to seeing you as well" but then Steve start to go on and on as he usually does and my anger is starting to surface as old Donn look around in total confusing. "OK Steve I'm going to have to go" Steve replies "OK i am so looking forward to seeing you again" "me to Steve now byeee" but Steve has more to say "no wait I'm just after remembering something that i have to tell you" "you can tell me later Steve" "no i have to tell you now" say Steve and then my volcano of anger is again release "Steve i have to go" but Steve is determined "but wait till i tell you this" "Steve i am really having a bad day and i have to go now" "oh stop" say Steve "you are probably just having a bad hair day" then my anger speak "Steve this is not a bad hair day and to tell you the truth i am standing on the hill of Tara and the ground is wet and in front of me is the father of all ****ing Ireland old Donn himself. and i have to go now Steve" silence for a moment then Steve say "oh -- okay -- we have so much to talk about later -- and who Donn" "bye Steve"
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25-07-2012, 14:57   #5
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Incredible, how credible that split second can seem like minutes . . . can make one jump to conclude that it was Donn, but I had to pull back on landing a dudno on that train of thought. Was it really Donn?

I had to pull back from fearing that, indeed, I was facing Donn . . . already dead, yet killed [again?] in a car accident . . . in my Rapide? Did he pull a Warm Leatherette on the M3 with my Viridian Green beauty? Quite normal to think such a thing, when one is emotionally attached to such a vehicle.

. . . but interrupted by that metaphorical phone call from Steve . . . Steve Munster. Is he a figment of my imagination? Stephen is his full name. I'm playing a game of chess with him, you know . . . somewhat like Mr French played by phone call moves across wires, across the ocean with his friend in that old US TV show: "Family Affair." Never a "bad hair day" when it comes to Mr French, although it seems to be a signature image that Steve portrays . . . hair all over the place . . . never seems to comb it . . . just like Marc Bolan.

I remember now.

That is why I have to see Steve. The Chess Game. I made a mistake . . . a wrong move . . . I need to know . . . is he a compassionate King, like he said to me at the outset of the Game?



It all started when I asked Steve to re-invent the lost Druidic Rules for a Great Game . . . a fidhcheall Chess Game (or gwyddbwyll - in Welsh.) Steve took all the centre pieces off my white army of 12, making it 8.

Then he moved one of his black pieces first. My starting move went OK - pretty basic. Then he moved right across the board, then I made what I thought to be an offensive move, but it was a Game Stopper . . . after I realized what I had done, that is.

I'll try to upload a picture of the first 4 moves a bit later on, but get a lode of this rather odd event just past:

dogmax had no idea that unkempt hair is Steve's and my outstanding facial feature. Steve and I do not own a comb or a brush.

Anyway, the figure emanating from the fog had no appreciable facial features. It reminded me of EggyBaby! He offered me an iron rod, then pointed at the ground off to my left. Funny, but the morning dew was not gathering in a roughly 8 foot by 20 foot rectangle area. EggyBaby! motioned me to poke at the ground, which I did very carefully. The bog was quite soft and my rod went in easily. It stopped at something hard.

I had been thinking of EggyBaby! since July 11, and this, being the morning of July 13, 2012, made it a couple of days since I had read his story about the Vadrang.

I didn't notice the ground swelling until the headlights were staring at me, all lit up like. dogmax and I got into the Rapide, pressed the keyblock in for a moment to start the machine and we were off!

A crawl at first, but dogmax hasn't been behind the wheel of a 570HP powerhouse before . . . give dogmax a break, eh?

Now he is One with the Rapide.

Where are we going, dogmax?

Last edited by Agent Weebley; 26-07-2012 at 03:30. Reason: Finished the post and added a lead in for dogmax
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26-07-2012, 20:30   #6
 
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Illusions of the mind Agent Weebley -- and I'm glad I'm driving reading what you're writing here you seem to be all over the place and as for you and Steve if you don't mind I call him Steve for the time been what I didn't know I certainly know now but anyway -- back to the illusions of the mind -- just like the universe it unexplored but thanks to our imagination we can create illusions of thought but the whole idea is not to get trap in our own illusions -- and as for this mythical Donn of the dead character be careful Agent Weebley he just might have a army hidden in that fog of his -- now one question if you can give me a straight answer -- what did you see in that rectangle area -- now remember a straight answer -- and I might let you drive again -- but then again I might not -- sorry I got a bit carry away there
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27-07-2012, 04:48   #7
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You're actually very good behind the wheel, dogmax. Very relaxing. And it gives me more time to think.

What do you think of this new intro? . . . I would have put it before the Twilight Zone video, but I seem to have run out of edits for the first post, which is a MetaBummer.

Maybe pickarooney could change the title and insert this intro . . . please?

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

July 13, 2012, 04:14 . . . the day time stood still for 7 days.

One man, Agent Weebley, a Master of The Magical Mystery Turing Number 7 . . . a man who hears a constant toll of the drum . . . gives the signal . . . . drum . . . drum . . . drum . . . For 4 days, then 3 nights he maintains an uplink to . . . The Hundredth Monkey . . . The Higgs Boson . . . the invisible wave/particle continuum . . . togetherness.

July 16, 2012, 09:54 . . . a lone voice echoes back . . . dun . . . dun . . . dun . . . confirmation The Irish Triangle of Dundrum, Dundrum, Dundrum is complete, contiguous and strong. Lia Fáil is now screaming in ear splitting silence across Ireland.

John Donne: "No man is an Island, intire of it selfe; every man is a peece of the Continent, a part of the maine; if a Clod bee washed away by the Sea, Europe is the lesse, as well as if a Promontorie were, as well as if a Mannor of thy friends or of thine owne were; any mans death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee."

July 20, 2012 . . . after 7 days the unimaginable happens . . . time does not restart. Have we reached the end of elastic time as we know it? Is time now plastic? Have we reached Mile Zero . . . the end . . . or the beginning?

You, my friend, have already entered . . . The Twilight Zone.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Illusions of the mind . . . all over the place . . . that is true, on many levels. But "all over the place" could mean illogical and incoherent . . . it could mean logical and seemingly incoherent. Maybe the English I speak is the 7th harmonic of direct speech, tuned to a frequency that Enda Kenny and his ilk cannot hear . . . the perfect steganographic frequency . . . coded talk between friends . . . like the morphed English that subverted the French speaking Norman Courts in England . . . but I can speak directly, sans merde sensationaliste, which I did . . .

Trapped in an illusion? That is the 100 million dollar prize. Ahh, to be able to flip in and out from one illusion to another. I wish for us to be trapped, then free ourselves to go into yet another, and another. Let's go into EggyBaby!'s illusion, shall we?.

Oh, and Donn and his friends are legion . . . and they are on our side. He told me. He is in the back seat with us.

You asked: "now one question if you can give me a straight answer -- what did you see in that rectangle area"

Although I only saw the Rapide afterwards, when I hit something hard, due to intense "poking with an iron rod" training by the Elders Of The Internet, it felt like a slab of bog oak with legs.

Hang on a 'mo . . .

Hmm. I just got an email? Weird. I don't have my iPhone4. That "old telephone" ringtone sounded like my long lost iPhone 4. Agent Pete 8 never did go to get it back for me from Bloodbridge River, in the Mountains Of Mourne . . . it was left sitting on a rock (not by me, but for me to add yet another contra-Aquiphibian character into this story would be a little over the top, at this stage.)

Oh, an "old telephone" ringtone redux. Got it. My iPhone4! Yippee! Under the passenger seat! Thanks, Donn!

[no answer]

Really. An email from my budsky, Epstein. "When are you coming back?" he said.

Excuse me while I answer Epstein . . . I am a little thick fingered: “ I a m wit h D on n. B ac k in 15 mi nute s. ”

I included a short video of an Underwood 5 typewriter, to really screw his head around.

Oh, since I can now browse on Safari, I'll see what he did with my email . . yuk, yuk, yuk.

Er . . . No way! I didn't steganographically embed the link to this video! I've never seen it before in my life! I swear!


Last edited by Agent Weebley; 27-07-2012 at 13:45. Reason: incoherent - sounds like I'm ironing the ground, while adding starch: "poking with an iron [rod]"
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27-07-2012, 12:07   #8
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Silly me! I almost forgot . . . when I was on my way out to see Steve in Toronto, my parting words to Epstein were: "wait."

I know . . . that's only 1 word. Maybe the other words were inferred?

Epstein then played the following video. Either I caused him to play it, or he caused me to say wait:


Last edited by Agent Weebley; 27-07-2012 at 12:19. Reason: YouTube video of Please Mr Postman was missing a digit - much like Dave Allen
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27-07-2012, 20:09   #9
 
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And somewhere in all of that Agent Weebley I found the answer to my question a slab of bog oak with legs. --- ha ha now I wonder what that could be --- Illusions of the mind . . . all over the place . . . that is true, on many levels. --- what ever make you happy Agent Weebley and for that reason you can drive your Rapide --- I now have this funny feeling I'm riding shotgun but this is the creative writing section so what the hell -- so Agent Weebley and old Donn -- old Donn still looks confuse, if I blow his head of do you think it would grow back again, just a thought -- legion eh -- Ok Agent Weebley you got any enemies that I should know about, it pointless asking old Donn I mean he has already met his, he dead -- I'm I really sitting in a car sorry a Rapide, with old Donn and Agent Weebley -- anyway, ill go with this for a while -- there could be a few hitchhikers up ahead -- but this is your show Agent Weebley, and I'm just passing through -- You Me and old Donn, and of course his Legion. where ever the hell they are -- so drive Agent Weebley, drive
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28-07-2012, 12:47   #10
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This is the strangest thread I've read in a while.
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28-07-2012, 14:51   #11
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OK, dogmax. I stopped the Rapide. Switch!

Did that slab of Bog Oak with legs ring a resonant bell? It did with me. What could it be?

And I don't think the confused look on Donn's face can be changed like some sort of Mr Potato Head . . . he's probably wondering how the heck we're doing this time warp thingie . . . no he's not. He's faking Perplex City. I believe it. Do you believe it?

We have stopped time invisibly on a small scale quite a few times in the past, to cut our teeth, so to speak, but now we have done it on a big scale . . . thanks to the Hundredth Monkey . . . was that little Monkey you, dogmax?

The Druids stop time. They keep this MAGIC stuff a secret, you know. That is one reason for their hand-off to Christianity in Ireland. To teach everyone a lesson. Now we must recap the last 16 centuries . . . a long lesson, methinks. It should help us for quite a quite to come. I'm a little mischevious in that regard. I am explaining MAGIC to the best of my ability. The Druids, as before, are giving us the next direction for humanity . . . are they giving us another lesson?

Anyway, I'm not sure about us going down the Zombie-time road, dogmax . . . We do have lots of friends in the Valley, but pulling a Vincent Vega and blowing Marvellous Donn's head off would definitely throw us right into Pulp Fiction territory . . . not to mention the clean-up on the Rapide would be extensive, and would slow us down . . . remember our upcoming trip: "The Road to Suns?" Not to mention the PG13 rating on this site! The Vadrang may enjoy the splattered blood effect, but the Craul . . . not so much? Which reminds me . . . we need to bone up for our trip soon. I noticed a few contradictions and omissions in Eggy Baby!'s storyline, in which Eileen De Generously expounded on for us. EggyBaby! seems to be explaining more about the scene setup, rather than being in the thick of the events of the story . . . therein lies our opportunity to be there to help him see what we see . . . to help him. Wanna help?

Another thing is very difficult; how do I make the reader empathise with alien characters if many of them are incapable of human-like facial expressions? It would be difficult to describe conversation with the many-eyed Vadrang, for example.

Welcome. Take a seat, Dean09. I promise not to kick you in the head . . . unless you want me to, that is. Sit beside Donn in the back. Don't worry, he bites.

By the way, I've given up on being able to insert the 4 chess game moves here. IMG is turned off. I would ask pickarooney to turn them on for this thread only, but I'm not sure if he will do that.

. . . please, please, Mr Postman . . . can you do that for me?

It would be so much easier to explain the long lost rules to Fidhcheal Chess. Here's the links in the meantime to tide you over:
Move 01 - Steve,
Move 02 - Weebley,
Move 03 - Steve,
Move 04 - Weebley.

How weird is that? Move 04 is so boring looking. The last time I accessed the image for Move 04, it had 4 ancient Leprechaun flutes in the image . . . 2 for Steve and 2 for me. The first time I saw these flutes was on a video from some Irish Diaspora in Mobile Alabama, just before St Atrick's Day. A Leprechaun was in a tree. Tree is Irish for three . . . 1 and 1 and 1 make 3.

I really like my flutes, as they ward off spells.

Here's the video from Mobile AL:



NB: the lady in the car @ 0:55 . . . she thinks that the Leprechaun is on craic . . . a CraicHead. I think that a CraicHead would not be able to communicate . . . lost in their own mind . . . agreed? If you are reading this on drugs . . . stop, please stop . . . forever. The reasons will become apparent later . . . much later.

Last edited by Agent Weebley; 29-07-2012 at 07:26. Reason: Oops: [I]. . . please, please, Mr Postman . . . can you [sp your] do that for me?[/I
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28-07-2012, 17:14   #12
 
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Agent Weebley nice to read you are keeping it together -- and the Hundredth Monkey -- now now don't go there Agent Weebley been there done that remember - little Monkey - - and the Druids stop time - their MAGIC was no secret - - not anymore and Agent Weebley - Christianity - recap the last 16 centuries - you're indeed a little mischievous in that regard - but I'm quite happy with this time -- isn't time progressing quite happily now.
and yes welcome Dean09 - forgive Agent Weebley his bark is worse than his bite - you met old Donn then - it look as if old Donn is starting to get a bit of colour in his cheeks - coming on nicely - that good - if we pick up anymore hitchhikers Agent Weebley we-re going to have to find a bigger form of transport --- and as for Eggy Baby, I already told you this is your show Agent Weebley -- now why don't you ask Dean09 would he like to drive -- nicely of course -- and I was only joking about blowing old Donn head of, I like old Donn - and as long as he like me he can keep his head -- and the slab of Bog Oak with legs we'll talk about that some other time -- or should that be - in some other time
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31-07-2012, 07:31   #13
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Ha ha ha ha . . . I met you in the future, dogmax . . . but I did not speak to you at the time . . . maybe that will change?

The Rapide is only a metaphor. We do not need it to move from place to place . . . quite literally . . . or from time to time . . . quite literally.

Oh, and Dean09 and I have a little inside joke going from the future as well.

I took my wife, Lucy, with me to see Steve. We're still here with him, working on a mound of issues. We'll be back soon with a laundry basket of what has transpired so far, for those that need everything to hang nicely in their mental closet. We're ironing out the last few things right now . . .

With any luck, we won't stay stuck in a moment, and you too will be able to go with us to EggyBaby!'s world.

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31-07-2012, 12:02   #14
 
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Ah Lucy you deserve the highest honor of them all, I know because my wife deserve the same, and Steve I hope you weren't offended by my first impression of you, ill tell you a little secret, my first impression of Agent Weebley was, that he, was a she, please don't ask me why --- and yes Agent Weebley back to the future -- and is the Rapide really only a metaphor -- but anyway -- I took a peek into Eggy Baby world, some weird **** going on there, but if that what you want then its okay with me, old Donn is keeping well he starting to look like father jack but don't worry, ill have him tidy up by the time you get back -- and a mound of issues - mental closet -- you and Eggy Baby are really going to get on -- look like Dean09 and Me are the only sane one here -- I hope -- definitely Twilight Zone --- bring it on.
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01-08-2012, 05:24   #15
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Steve's home seemed empty. It was a hot night. The stars were glittering in the night sky. The city lights were 50 miles away, and not a cloud in sight; it was another good night for star gazing. But we were here to see Steve and his wife.

No lights were on in their home. Even the lawn lights were off. The MDX and the UC van were in the driveway, so the chances of them being home were high. I unlocked the front door and Lucy walked in ahead of me. She turned on the kitchen light and proceeded to put the kettle on to make some tea. I made off to go downstairs. I wanted to see the Celtic Chessboard . . . what was Steve's move 5?

I turned the basement light on so I could see my way downstairs, then the main basement light once I was down there. Huh, Steve hadn't put the cover on the billiard tablet. It's going to get dusty. I walked over to the far end of the basement where the chessboard was sitting on a coffee table. I turned the light on.

It felt cold and clammy down there.

There it lay . . . the chessboard . . . move 5. Dang. No mercy. And what's the Shillelagh for?

Then I noticed something moving in the shadows near the cold cellar. Being a pretty big basement, I would have needed to walk a little way to reach another light switch, so I decided to see if my eyes were playing tricks on me instead. The slight movement stopped . . . it seemed almost black on black.

Then . . . someone spoke . . . "It's when you start to become really afraid of death, that you learn to appreciate life. Do you like life?"

Me, being the ultimate optimist, said yes. I picked up the Shillelagh.

"That's good," he said.

Although the intial bizarre statement, followed by that simple leading question made me think I was dealing with a priest, it's what he said next that gave me the heebeegeebees . . .

"I take no pleasure in taking life, if it's from a person who doesn't care about it."

Then, the 27" TV lit up and played this video . . .



Once the video ended, I looked over to the shadows. "Does that mean you actually take pleasure in taking life, if the person does care about life?" I said.

There was a short pause, then a "yes" came from the darkness.

"But you will still take the life if the person does not care. You feed on fear?" I said.

"You have stopped time once too often, Weeble. People are beginning to notice. You will pay with your life. Do you care?"

Just then, the lights went on throughout the basement. Every corner was now lit up.

"Hi, Weebley," said Steve. "How's it hangin'?"

"Excellent," I said, as I looked over into the corner. Nothing was there.

Last edited by Agent Weebley; 01-08-2012 at 05:33. Reason: spelling mistake
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