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Zath

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Posts posted by Zath

  1. 1 hour ago, xinoehp512 said:

    Hmm, if you can channel Narrative energy, then you are a Narrator. If you are your author, then you are an Avatar. As a Writer, I'd say you're, hmm, somewhere in between.

    "If I am my author, I'm an Avatar?" Zath repeated excitedly.  "I've waited my entire life for this moment!" 

    Zath crouched in what was-- in his mind-- a martial arts stance and then began moving his arms and dancing around, punching and kicking the air to no discernible effect.  After about half a minute of this, Zath put his hands on his hips and sighed.  "My chi must be blocked.  I can't bend any of the elements."

    Beram snorted and rolled his eyes.  "Not that kind of Avatar, ya big nerd."

    "Oh," Zath said, embarrassed.  "Right.  Of course.  I knew that."

    Beram nodded at Ieiea.  "What you said, about Writers and Authors being the same?  That makes sense to me.  Which means that, at some level, it makes sense to this goof, too."  Beram waved a hand at Zath.

  2. 14 hours ago, AonEne said:

    “I was wondering...” She sighed. “Okay, honestly, I wasn’t wondering anything. I came over to make small talk because I want to look useful and I have no idea what to do in this situation.” She stared down at her feet, where her spren swirled. “It happened so fast.” 

    "Fair enough," Zath said.  "I'm not entirely sure what to do here, either.  Help everybody figure out what's going on, I guess?"  He gestured to the others nearby.  "Should we join the discussion?  Something about writers, or Writers, I gather.  Seems like that'd be right up your alley, you being a Writer Radiant and all."

    "How do you know if you are a Writer?" Itiah asked.  Zath turned to see Itiah raising his hands as if expecting something extraordinary to happen, but nothing did.  This seemed to confuse Itiah.  Zath was also confused, though probably for different reasons.

    5 hours ago, xinoehp512 said:

    Hmm, said the voice. A conundrum, to be sure. You should devise a system for yourself, hmm? For understanding, hmm?

    Zath looked around, surprised.  The voice seemed to be coming from above Itiah's head, but there was nothing there to be seen.  So Zath addressed the empty air and simply hoped that whoever or whatever had spoken would be able to hear him.

    "If we're the ones who come up with the system that defines who is or isn't a Writer, then depending on what we come up with, anyone could be a Writer, regardless of whether or not they were a Writer prior to the system we devised.  Right?  Wait, no, that's only if the system we devise makes someone a Writer, rather than just identifying existing Writers.  But if such an identification system didn't exist beforehand, then wouldn't the process of identifying Writers be essentially the same thing as making someone a Writer?  Wait, could everyone hear that aquamarine voice just now, or did I just break the fourth wall?  Am I even making any noise right now?  If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it-"

    Beram strode forward, took Zath by the shoulders and shook him fiercely.  "Snap out of it, man!"

    "Oh, sorry," Zath said after a moment.

  3. Quote
    18 hours ago, AonEne said:

    You can eat my hair anytime :P

    That's what my dog would have done in that situation.  *shrugs*

     

    18 hours ago, AonEne said:

    Wending through the crowd, Ieiea made her way to Zath. “Hey - it’s Zath, right?” 

    Zath looked over to the woman who had just spoken.  She was dressed in a forest green gown embroidered with purple letters and symbols.  

    "Yeah, that's me," Zath answered.  "Who are you and what do you want?  Um, also, please imagine I said that politely.  Like, 'Who might you be, good lady, and how may I be of assistance?'  Yeah, something like that."

    16 hours ago, Dr. Dapper said:

    "I've killed our kind before. Writers, Narrators, whatever. But this is different than what I've done. I killed... other forms of me, and absorbed their energy. Morbid I know, but I don't regret doing it." ...

    Zath discreetly took a half step away from Dapper.

  4. “Thanks for catching her," someone said from nearby.  Zath tilted his head to see the bridesmaid in the gold dress with long brown hair speaking to him.  "Those were some impressive reflexes.”

    "I've seen you before, somewhere," someone else said.  It was the guy who'd been offering Ene some pudding earlier.  "Didn't you do that eastern street slang rap?"

    "You're welcome, and yeah, that eastern street slang rap was me," Zath said weakly as paramedics entered the chapel and hurried toward them.  As Zath spoke, the Cavalier King Charles spaniel head protruding from the collar of his jacket nosed at Ene's hair and even tried to nibble on it, but the paramedics lifted Ene onto a stretcher and out of the dog's reach.  Zath was oblivious to what the dog head was doing, of course, since he couldn't see it.  

    Zath got to his feet and gingerly rubbed the small of his back.  "I'm Zath.  You're Rebecca, right?" he said to the bridesmaid.  Then he addressed the other guy, "And you're... Well, you're here, I think.  ...Oh!  You must be Itiah!  It's good to meet you both.  Or, re-meet, I guess.  Or, roleplay-meet for the first time.  Or, well, you know what I mean."

    Other people had been coming and going, some even vanishing or appearing into thin air.  Zath heard them discussing Apollyon's death and what could have caused it.  The porkpie hat guy in black was apparently Dapper.

    As Zath tried to listen, he was distracted by the sight of Beram, a piece of chalk in his hand, standing by the spot where Apollyon had fallen.  Looking closer, Zath saw that Beram had drawn a chalk outline of the body.  Zath also noticed that the head of the chalk outline had a smiley face drawn on it.

    "Beram!  Seriously?" Zath scolded.  Beram looked over at him questioningly, and Zath gestured at the smiley face indignantly.

    "Oh!  Right, right, sorry," Beram apologized.  He bent down and rubbed away the mouth of the smiley face, then used the chalk to replace it with a frown.  Beram looked back at Zath and gave him a thumbs-up, a barely-detectable glint of mischief in his eyes.

    Zath sighed and rubbed his forehead.  To everyone else, it looked like he was petting the dog head on his shoulders.  

  5. Quote

    Something like a hundred-trillion-year-old Picard, sure. :lol:

    Thanks!  ^_^  I'd been meaning to join in for a while now.  Finally here!

    Zath watched as Ene swayed, then started to fall in a faint.  He made an awkward, lurching motion toward her, knowing he should try to catch her but not quite believing that she would actually fall.  Zath's reflexes weren't great in crisis situations like this; he tended to freeze up.  Unless he was playing outdoor volleyball.  But this wasn't outdoor volleyball.  ...Or was it?

    Thinking about volleyball spurred Zath to action.  He let his muscle memory take over as he dove forward, low to the ground, hands together and arms stretched out flat as a board as if to dig a spiked volleyball.  He managed to get his arms beneath Ene just before she hit the ground, softening the impact.

    "Whoa, head injury avoided!" Beram commented, looking over.  "Nice."

    "...Ow, my back... I think I pulled a muscle..." Zath said faintly, still sprawled face-down on the floor with Ene's head and shoulders resting on his outstretched arms.

  6. 3 hours ago, AonEne said:

    When Sharders showing up in your dreams is no longer cause for surprise, just natural everyday dream material. (I'm pretty sure we defeated the parasitic plant thing, but guys, I dunno...I got distracted showing cool old pillars to @Zath so we might be doomed.)

    do appreciate a good Doric when I see one...  So there could be merit in preparing for a parasitic-plant-related apocalypse scenario.

    ...   ...   ...   ...   ...

    You know you're a Sanderfan when you enjoy Brandon Sanderson's stories.

    ...Yep.

  7. Of all the times to trip and get a bloody nose, Zath thought to himself in irritation as he stood before a bathroom mirror, holding a wad of tissues against the offending nostril.  I'm supposed to be at the wedding right now, I'm Apollyon's best man!  One of them, at least.  I should be there!  Hurry up and heal, nose!

    Zath carefully removed the tissues, ready to replace them if needed, but fortunately it seemed as if his nose had finally stopped bleeding.  Zath quickly washed his face and hands of any blood and checked his reflection in the mirror to be sure he was presentable.  He didn't want to cause a scene on Ene's and Ap's special day.  

    To his own eyes, Zath looked like himself, dressed in a tuxedo and bow-tie for the wedding.  However, Zath now knew from experiences earlier in the day that to everyone else, he looked just like his profile picture on the 17th Shard: a guy in a battered, black leather jacket with the head of a Cavalier King Charles spaniel.  Zath didn't know why that was the case.  Maybe if he'd done a face reveal, he'd be seen as he actually was?  In any case, at least the bow-tie was still visible to other people.  

    Zath hustled out of the bathroom and through the halls, heading for the chapel.  As he approached a small side door where he could discreetly enter and get to the spot where Apollyon's best men where supposed to be, Zath heard a loud THUMP, followed by gasps and stifled screams.  A sudden dread filled Zath's stomach, as if he'd just eaten several pieces of stale jerky that didn't just disagree with him, but had formed an entire debate club dedicated to disagreeing with everything.  

    Zath opened the door and stepped through to find the chapel in mild chaos.  He could see a sizeable hole in the ceiling right above the altar. Standing at the altar was AonEne in a white, long-sleeved wedding gown, embroidered with golden dragons and Aons and whatnot.  A crowd of people was rapidly forming around Ene, and everyone seemed to be focused on a crumpled, bloody form on the floor.  A form in a white suit... It was Apollyon.

    "Oh.  Oh no," Zath murmured faintly.  It was a terribly inadequate response to the tragedy that lay before him, but it was the best he had on such short notice.  Apollyon, whom Zath had seen and spoken to earlier that very same day, was dead, killed on the day that he and AonEne were to be married.  How could this have happened?

    "Well!  This wedding just got a lot more exciting, huh?" said a voice from Zath's right.  Zath turned to see who had spoken.  A wiry young man with a mane of unruly amber hair was leaning against the wall next to Zath, watching the goings-on with interest.  The guy wore a weathered brown leather jacket, worn jeans, and sturdy boots.  A short katana was strapped to his thigh.  His face was thin and mostly unremarkable except for his nose, which-- judging by its crooked shape-- looked like it had been broken pretty badly at least once, probably more.

    "Who... are you?"  Zath asked, still in slight shock.

    "We've met," said the young man casually.  "Multiple times actually.  Just focus for a bit, it'll come to you.  You wrote me, after all, so you have some immunity to my Semblance."

    Zath frowned at him in confusion.  "Wha...?"  Then the confusion turned to a sense of familiarity, then to a vague recollection.  "Wait, I do remember you," Zath said hesitantly.  "I ran into you outside the... uh... oh yeah, the kitchens.  You were... eating the food that was supposed to be served after the ceremony."

    "Yep!" the amber-haired guy replied.  "Just getting a head start on those h'or doeuvres.  Free food is the best part of weddings."

    "Wait, you're Beram!"  Zath remembered.  "And you used your powers, you used your Semblance on me to erase my memories of you!"

    "Well, you seemed like you were getting cranky over h'or doeuvres, of all things" Beram explained calmly, "so I figured you'd be happier if you forgot about seeing me eating them.  You're welcome."

    "I-- you-- but--" Zath stammered.

    "Plus, the caterers were starting to get annoyed with me, so I figured I'd make them forget about me too so I could enjoy that free food in peace," Beram continued. "Two birds, one memory wipe."

    "That's-- but-- you shouldn't--" Zath stammered.

    "C'mon," Beram said, pushing himself off the wall.  "Let's go see what's going on over there."  Beram started heading over to the people crowded around Apollyon's body.  After a moment, Zath sighed and followed.

    Zath recognized almost none of the people gathered around Ene.  As he and Beram drew closer, many of them suddenly flew through the air by various means to the hole in the ceiling, presumably to investigate. Okay, that just happened, thought Zath, who was unused to seeing people fly so casually.  Beram, on the other hand, seemed to take it in stride.

    Near Ene stood a young woman with long brown hair in a gold dress ringed with topaz around the waist.  Zath thought she might be Rebecca, one of Ene's bridesmaids.  She looked a bit queasy from the sight of Apollyon's body, which was totally understandable. 

    Also nearby, offering Ene a cup of pudding, was someone who looked like... who looked like...  Actually, Zath wasn't sure.  Somehow, Zath got the feeling that the guy looked like what he was supposed to look like, but his appearance seemed to shift subtly from one moment to the next, depending on what was happening.  ...Or not so subtly, as he was abruptly dressed in a pinstripe suit and a fedora, a cigarette dangling from his lips.  He looked like a private investigator straight out of the early 20th century.  And... was that jazz music in the background?  Just as abruptly, the guy's appearance returned to normal, whatever "normal" was, and the music faded.  Zath blinked, then decided he was better off not asking.

    Zath also noticed a guy dressed all in black near the back of the chapel, with a porkpie hat pulled down over his eyes.  Who dresses entirely in black for a wedding?  That's more of a funeral thing, isn't it?  A veritable menagerie of characters accompanied him, most notably (at least at first glance) a man in a gleaming white, armored mech suit of some kind.  They all seemed to be heading toward Apollyon's body, too.

    Zath and Beram joined the group around Ene, and Beram crouched down to get a closer look at the body.  

    "Mm-hmm, this fiancé is certainly dead," Beram said, gazing from the body to the hole in the ceiling to the people nearby.  "I'd bet on 'murdered', personally."

    "What makes you say that?" Zath asked worriedly.

    "Well, you know what they say," Beram said, "a fiancé takes the 'n' out of 'finance'."

    Zath blinked uncomprehendingly.  "...What's that supposed to mean?"

    "It means I know how to spell 'fiancé'," Beram replied.  "Beyond that, nothing much."

    Zath sighed, and then turned to Ene.  "I apologize for Beram's lack of tact," he said.  "And I am so sorry for what happened to Apollyon.  Maybe if I'd been a better best man, I could've prevented whatever it was that led to this."  (...Did I just say 'a better best man'? Zath thought.  Language is weird.)

    To those around Zath (except for Beram, weirdly enough), it was as though his voice was coming from somewhere within the battered leather jacket, slightly muffled.  The dog's head poking out from the collar of the jacket clearly wasn't doing the talking.  In fact, as Zath spoke, the dog seemed to be sniffing the air with mild curiosity, not paying much attention to what was going on (honestly, it was hard to tell what the dog was focused on, given that each eye pointed a different direction).

  8. 1 hour ago, Rebecca said:

    Dalinar or Spook are both good ones. 

    I named my puppy Spook, so I can attest to this. ^

    "Dockson" has potential.  It has those hard consonants that'll make it easier to get your dog's attention, and you can shorten it to "Dox" if you want.

  9. Belated response, but two things. First,

    On 6/15/2019 at 10:54 AM, Chaos said:

    Animated profile pictures are disabled

    Thank you!  *weeps in gratitude*

    Second, regarding spoilers and the new Forum Games forum: Could we get a little guidance?  Before, as long as the game was in the right forum, we didn't have to worry about spoilers so much.  Since Forums Games is technically a sub-forum of General Discussion now, does that mean that the Brandon-related games should be using a lot more spoiler tags?  Would including [Spoilers] in the thread title be enough?  Should we do both?  etc, etc.

    Basically, are there any hard-and-fast rules you want us to follow here, or should we just use our best judgement to keep to the site's spoiler policy?

    One way to avoid confusion about spoilers could be to split Forum Games into Brandon-related spoilery games, and generic non-spoiler games.  

  10. This is fun idea.  I absolutely believe that human flight powered by Awakening is possible.  Like you mentioned...

    On 4/30/2019 at 11:52 PM, Awaken Returner said:

    We know that Awakened Objects, so long as their material allows it, can move despite the lack of any obvious mechanism like hydraulics or gear systems to substitute muscle and sinew structures.

    We also know that the strength/force of an Awakened object's movement is fairly substantial-- or it has the potential for that strength.  So, at the very least, a skilled Awakener with enough Breaths could wear a piece of fabric over their arms and give it the Command, "be as my wings."  Voila, human flight.  I'm sure it'd take some trial-and-error to design functional fabric wings, of course, and a very clear Intent for the Command.  Still, the wings wouldn't need any kind of apparatus to hold their shape, and the Awakener's flaps would be greatly strengthened by the Awakened fabric, so it's totally possible. 

    And if that's possible, getting an Awakened object to do most/all of the work on its own as an honest-to-goodness aircraft is just a matter of figuring out a viable design and the right Command. 

    You might be able to bypass the difficulty of a single, complex Command by making an airship out of multiple Awakened Objects with complementary Commands.

  11. 14 hours ago, Herowannabe said:

    But don't forget, if anyone deserves applause it's @Ashspren for kicking this whole thing off in the first place. Seriously, thank you @Ashspren! This really is the greatest thread on the Shard.

    11 minutes ago, Paranoid King said:

    Truly, Ash is...

    Ash.jpg

    Hear, hear!  *gratitude toast*  To our leet founder!  :D

    14 hours ago, Herowannabe said:

    But let's not get ahead of ourselves. We still have one thing left to do... ;)

      Reveal hidden contents

     

    10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

    We all laughed together

    So let’s raise a toast

    To Gemmel and Yomen

    And their epic roasts!

    Both of them brought their best game

    For the final round

    (final round)

    And we’ll never see them the same again!

     

     

    It's the final showdown!

    (The final showdown)

     

    Ohh

    Will the Greatest Showman, win PK the brawl?

    Or maybe Itiah. He rickrolled us all, yeah

    I guess there’s just one way to tell

    It’s time to vote!

    (time to vote)

    Who will win? I just don’t know!

     

    It's the final showdown

    (The final showdown)

    The final showdown

    (Final showdown)

    Ohh ho ohh

     

    The final showdown, Ooh

    It's the final showdown

    (The final showdown)

    The final showdown

    (Final showdown)

    Ohh

     

    It's the final showdown

    We’ve all laughed together, Ooh

    (The final showdown)

    Now it’s time to vote!

    It's the final showdown

    (Final showdown), Ohh

    It's the final showdown

     

    (I couldn't resist)

    VOTE VOTE VOTE!!!

    I'll keep the poll open until Sunday, so go cast your vote, get your friends and coworkers to vote, bribe homeless people off the street to create an account and vote, whatever it takes!

    That was perfect.  :lol:

  12. Sweet Harmony, those were storming amazing.  :lol:  Paranoid King, Itiah...  You both crafted some excellent song parody roasts.  Simply superlative!  Here's some more internet applause:

    Spoiler

    Image result for applause gif

    Also...

    On 6/2/2019 at 11:33 PM, Herowannabe said:

    Alright everyone, the votes are in, which means it's time to begin

    The Final round of the Cosmere Roast Battle Tournament of Champions!!!

    In the left corner, we have a guy whose rapping skill is the only thing madder than he is, the crazy Skaa that leaves you in awe, the only mistborn who is more excelsior than Kelsier, GEMMEL!!!!! (as represented by @Paranoid King)

    And over in the right corner, wearing the sharpest of Ministry robes and boasting even sharper frontal lobes, And by that I mean he's got a cranium so quick he doesn't even need the Atium, the showman who sees every omen, YOMEN!!!!! (as represented by @I think I am here.)

    Let's all take a second and appreciate how Herowannabe set the hype for this last round.  :lol: 
    Thanks to you and John203 for stepping up and moderating the last handful of rounds to finish out this tournament!  You deserve internet applause too. (Plus, I still have that tab of applause GIFs open, so why not?)

    Spoiler

    Related image

     

  13. Excellent, excellent roasts!  

    @I think I am here., loved those rhymes, and the rhythm.  So good.  Such good.  Words.  Yes.  Approval.  (The "pad your book's word count," and "expositional dialogue" lines were great. :lol:)

    @Herowannabe, so many great lines!  Rhyming "Thaylenah" with "wailin', 'AAH!'"  The "weird hate-triangle."  "Inquisitor's eye-bling." :lol:

    Another tough choice for us voters...

  14. 30 minutes ago, Lunamor said:

    I wish to quit accidentally squirting out absurd amounts of hand sanitizer.

    Granted.  Your hands become enormous, so what was previously an absurd amount of hand sanitizer is now a perfectly reasonable amount.

    Your bane ('cause the above was just your boon) is that you now believe that mac 'n' cheese is actually a sentient alien race bent on world domination.  Eventually, a reality TV show about conspiracy theorists features you in a double-length episode.

    ...

    I wish for igloo powers.

  15. 19 minutes ago, Lunamor said:

    I wish to be better at drawing people.

    Granted.  Your depictions are so lifelike that people are constantly trying to strike up conversations with your art, and they get miffed when they're inevitably ignored.  Then they learn that it's actually artwork, and they throw heaps of money at you because, by Harmony, your art is just that good!

    Bane: Every time someone sneezes in your vicinity, your ears double in size.  Thankfully, you can reverse this effect by donating a pint of your own blood to an orphaned fruit bat (of a compatible blood type, of course), causing your ears to halve in size.

    ...

    I wish for oodles of noodles.

  16. 17 hours ago, Firerust said:

    @Zath Dear me, that was absolutely wonderful. I laughed out loud when the gravity of the situation kicked in. This was beautifully written and I need to give more than one upvote for it. I love it, love it, love it!

    Thanks, glad you liked it!  ^_^  And thanks for coming up with such a fun character as Borio Singaldi and sharing him with everybody.

  17. Congratulations, @Silva!

    @I think I am here., you have bested me with your skill.  *bows head*  Well done.  
    Actually, it still kinda feels like a victory to me since you were representing Sja-anat, the character I'd originally picked. :lol:

    17 hours ago, Herowannabe said:

    Also, voting for Round 2, Match 4 is now open! By way of reminder, our contestants are:

    Hoid, as voiced by @Paranoid King!

    Gemmel, as voiced by @Archer!

    and Taan/Aanden, as voiced by @John203!

    Storms, this is a difficult choice...

  18. Ha, these are fun. :lol:

    I wasn't planning on writing a Borio Singaldi story myself, but...  Creativity strikes unexpectedly.  So I humbly present to you:

    Borio Singaldi and the Fate Worse than Death

    Spoiler

    “TOMATOPATCH!” cried Borio’s distressed voice from upstairs.  “Help!  Oh, dear me!  It’s terrible!  HELP ME, EARNESTWISE!”

    Earnestwise Tomatopatch had never heard such helpless horror in a human voice before.  Something must have been terribly wrong.  Earnestwise dropped what he was doing and ran with all haste up the grand stairs of the Singaldi Manor, through the vaulted corridors, and into Borio’s luxuriant rooms from whence the calls for aid issued.

    He found Borio Singaldi standing in front of the mirror of the private washroom.  The portly gentleman was barefoot, dressed in trousers and shirt sized for his ample girth, with a towel draped over his shoulders.  It appeared that Borio had recently gotten out of the shower and was in the midst of preparing for his day.  Nothing seemed amiss…  Except that Borio held both hands in front of the lower half of his face.

    “What is wrong, sir?” inquired Earnestwise.

    “Ah!  Tomatopatch!” cried Borio, startled.  He didn’t move his hands from their position, so his voice was muffled.  “Don’t look at me!  I’m indecent!”

    “…You’re basically fully dressed, sir.”

    “Oh, dear, naïve Tomatopatch.  I’m not speaking of clothing!”

    “Then what are you speaking of, sir?” 

    Borio stayed silent, shaking his head miserably.

    “Sir, I can’t help you if you won’t tell me what the problem is.”

    “It’s— It’s— It’s this!” wailed Borio.  He removed his hands from his face to reveal...

    “Dear me,” murmured Earnestwise Tomatopatch in shock.

    Borio Singaldi’s glorious, legendary, twirly mustache was nowhere to be seen.  In its place above Borio’s upper lip was a monstrosity of wet, matted, stringy hair, plastered haphazardly across the man’s face as if it were seeking to fill every nook and cranny of that portly visage.

    The gravity of the situation hit Earnestwise like a rap on the head with a cane.

    “Sir, was it really necessary to rap me on the head with your cane?” asked Earnestwise, rubbing his head.

    “I just wanted you to understand the gravity of the situation, Tomatopatch!” replied Borio, resting his cane against the wall once more.  “I’m completely out of my special twirly styling gel!  I need you to pop downstairs and fetch me another bottle of it, my good man.  Quickly, now!”

    “Ah.  I regret to inform you, sir, that we are all out of your special twirly styling gel.  You do use it quite liberally, sir.”

    “WHAT?!  Impossible, I say!  Simply inconceivable!  Don’t we have a standing order with the company?  They ship it on the second Tuesday of every month!  I distinctly recall!”

    “That is correct, sir.  However, we received a letter from them this morning.  I have it right here… ‘We regret to inform you, sir, that we are all out of your special twirly styling gel.  Due to circumstances beyond our control, our company must close its doors…’ and so on.  Apparently the process they used to make the special twirly styling gel was harmful to the environment.  …I recall seeing a story in the paper this morning about a thick cloud of multicoloured smog the size of Australia being discovered over the Atlantic…”

    “But… but… Dear me, whatever shall I do, Tomatopatch?!  I have a meeting with the board of directors in an hour!  I can’t go out like this!

    “Hmm…  I’ll get Clemendine, sir.  Maybe she’ll have an idea.”

    “No, wait, Tomatopatch!  Don’t leave me like this!”

    But Earnestwise had already left to fetch his… to fetch his, uh… to fetch Clemendine Tomatopatch.  They returned after only a few minutes.

    “What is the matter, sir?” asked Clemendine.

    “Ah!  Tomatopatch!” cried Borio, startled.  “Don’t look at me!  I’m indecent!”

    “…But you’re basically fully dressed, sir.”

    Earnestwise rolled his eyes.  “Sir, just show her.”  Borio miserably obliged.

    “Dear me,” murmured Clemendine Tomatopatch in shock.

    “Indeed!  It’s ghastly!” wailed Borio.

    “It’s like a malevolent nest of gangrenous rat tails aspiring to be weeds have sprouted from your nostrils,” continued Clemendine.  “It’s like a prison colony of diseased seaweed making an ill-conceived escape attempt.  It’s like a psychotically insane artist used the corpses of parasitic worms as a medium for an avant garde anti-masterpiece.  It’s like a toddler dragged a plate of moldy spaghetti through the gutters, left it in the mud, came back three months later to collect it, and then tried unsuccessfully to force-feed it to you.  It’s like…”

    Borio sobbed.

    “That’s quite enough, Clemendine,” said Earnestwise.  “We get the picture.”

    “Well, why haven’t you used your special twirly styling gel, sir?” asked Clemendine.  “That should fix the matter in a jiffy, sure it will.”

    Borio continued to sob.

    “He’s all out, and the company that makes it was shut down,” explained Earnestwise.

    “Oh, good heavens.  This is a sticky wicket, right enough.”

    “Yes, and Borio has a meeting in an hour with the board of directors.  Any ideas?”

    “Hmm… Let me think…”

    Several moments passed with Borio’s gradually diminishing sobs being the only sound as the servants Tomatopatch pondered the predicament.  Finally, Clemendine snapped her fingers.

    “Ah!  Tomatopatch!” cried Borio, startled.  “Don’t look at me!  I’m indecent!”  The Tomatopatches rolled their eyes.

    “You can use the doggie shampoo!” said Clemendine. 

    “The… the doggie shampoo?” repeated Borio, dumbfounded.  Earnestwise nodded thoughtfully as Clemendine continued.

    “It works wonders on the pooches’ fur—you’ve seen how glossy and radiant their coats are after a wash!  And I’ve found that if you work it in to a fine lather and then leave it for about ten minutes or so, you can mold the fur any way you like!”

    “I… Dear me, I don’t know…”

    “Come, sir, it’s more or less the same thing as your special twirly styling gel.”

    “Well, which is it?”

    “…Excuse me, sir?”

    “You said it’s more or less the same thing as my special twirly styling gel.  Which is it: more, or less?”

    “It’s just an expression, sir—”

    “More!” interrupted Earnestwise.  “It’s more, sir.”

    “Well then!” cried Borio with urgent gusto.  He held his cane aloft as if he were the bannerman of a grand army leading the charge into the teeth of the enemy encampment.  “Tomatopatch!  Bring me the doggie shampoo!

    … … … … …

    And that, dear reader, is the story of how Borio Singaldi first began to use “Uncle Woof’s Paw-fect Pomade” for all his mustache grooming needs.  To this very day, should you ever pay a visit to the grandiose Singaldi Manor, you will always be able to find several bottles of the miraculous doggie shampoo in Borio’s washroom.  And now you may rest easy at night, knowing the secret behind the elegant magnificence of facial hair perfection that is the twirly mustache of Borio Singaldi.

     

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