To come in at the beginning, although it’s not a must you might want to start with:
By Hugh Roberts of Hugh’s Views & News
And then my part in response to him:
I was rubbing my eyes from lack of sleep when Miss Maypole blurted out we were losing Hugh. When I looked back to the screen they had disconnected. I guess they were getting in touch with that Eloise Mellow person.
Losing Hugh was not really a pleasing idea. I still had his different hats he sent me for my son B’s school project. Hugh had seemed very fond of the Native American war bonnet. Sometimes I just didn’t ask. I had already seen Hugh dancing and the imagery was too vivid to go there. I had seen his anxious look when he saw the hats earlier.
Plus I had to admit, Hugh was a sexy man. (Did I say that out loud or was that a thought? It’s fine, I’m in touch with my masculinity and that other side of me. Brad Pitt’s hot and so is that Robert Downey Iron Man dude in a Weird Science kind of way.)
I did what I had to do, I flipped open my battered blue cased cell and hit the last number dialed. (Yes, I said flipped opened.)
“Ron, we’re already out of town,” said Rose.
“I know but things are getting worse. They tell me my h’s are missing now and if something isn’t done Hugh will disappear.”
There was silence for a moment on the other end of the line. Then I heard a lot of noise, a few screams, and possibly what I would have sworn was a grown man begging. “Ron, sorry but we can’t help you this time. We’re kind of busy. Call the LAW,” said Rose.
“LAW?” I asked. “The police?”
“No, the LAW, League of Awesome Women and they should be able to handle this. Listen, I’ll give them a call and they’ll be in contact with y . . . Ghun! Get him! Nooo not on the leather seats. Blood gets in the seams. Aw . . . man.” The phone went silent.
I held the phone frozen in place, wondering what I was getting into. LAW, Grammar Black Market, and I had to worry about sending Hugh back his Village People props, he had said something about doing a mix called Rocky Horror Village Show. I didn’t ask. I had seen his concern about the hats though. They had come in handy for the History of America project B had at school. I still wonder where he got the Native American headdress from. I was 1/8 Native American and didn’t have any Native American things.
The knock on the door about made me jump as I was wondering if Rose and Ghun would ever get married. Yes, I really am that random with thoughts. Since they had only known each other a few months I wasn’t sure where it would go, what with her aunt having been his old girlfriend . . . I barely had the door open when the group of hair and perfume shoved their way into my house. Okay actually not so much hair, but someone smelled of vanilla.
“Umm, yeah,” I managed. The presence of actual women skeered me something fierce. At least Rose had been here with Ghun.
Before I knew it women were rummaging through my drawers everywhere. Then it suddenly dawned on me that these were some of my online Blog World friends.
Amira & Elena Makansi the Authors of The Sowing, Kate of Dazzling Whimsy, Cat of Obscured Dreamer, and Jenna of Jen’s Pen Den. It was major freak out time for me.
They were secretly part of some super smarticles group. Oh, no. They now knew how I lived. My secrets were out. The would know I blogged in underwear and ate Pringles by the cans each day along with 2 liter bottles of grape soda.
Wait, that’s not me. That must be some other blogger.
“Oh and it looks like they have it out for Hugh. The letters in his name are the ones that are missing,” I said. I couldn’t look at their faces and Jenna was still red. I was trying to remember what was in my room. Then I remembered my laptop and the screen saver. I died a little bit more.
That’s when it hit me, and I saw a look cross Elena’s face as well.
Could we both be thinking of the same person? . . . to be continued.
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By Hugh Roberts of Hugh’s Views & News