What happens in 5 Days?

What happens in

5 Days?

day-2

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6 Days.

6 Days

 

Only here on RonovanWrites.

 

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The L.A.W. in London: Yeah, Baby.

In the last episode of The L.A.W. & Ronovan  who met Ms. Marzapan and Hugh in a skytower or something like that, um, there was like this zombie dance troop and the L.A.W. and Ronovan, I mean me, I mean I discovered that Cyril Bussiere had created all these mind altering things to get rid of like all the Hugh’s of the world. I secretly think it’s because he is jealous of Hugh’s, well I won’t tell that now. Just wait. I just hope we catch him before that housekeeper that he left behind without a job does. Oh, and the Doctor showed up to give us a ride to London.

Credit: Freefoto.com



 

“Well that certainly was a bumpy landing,” the Doctor said.

“Indeed,” Elena said. She had taken on a British accent for some reason. Actually all of the L.A.W. had. I feared that if music started to play they would tell me what they want what they really, really want. But the door opened just in time.

We apparently had come to rest in some type of store.

“Ow!” Cat said.

I looked and she had an Oreo stuck to her head. “What the—,”

“Uh uh, Kate, none of that language,” Jenna said. “Hey, look!”

We all turned to follow her very excited finger. “Ruby slippers!” Kate said. She dove for them but they disappeared as her hands grasped nothing but empty air. Stinky empty air.

“What is that awful smell?” Amira asked.

“Smells like Troll feet,” I said.

“That’s because that is precisely what it was. Internet Troll feet,” the Doctor said.

“Oh, Doctor, I am so glad you came,” a woman said. We all turned.

“No way!” Jenna said.

“Yes way!” Amanda said.

“No, really no whey,” Jenna said looking at the case behind Amanda. “I love yogurt without whey in it. It’s a great substitute for sour cream and things like that. Lot less fat and calories. Yum!”

I looked at the Doctor. He looked at me. He went into the blue box thing. And then, gone. I couldn’t blame him.

“You know I so don’t blam—,”

I didn’t get the words out of my mouth before I found myself being tackled to the ground by several tough women. One that looked like a train. And one with a—Rudolph nose?

Screeching tires and the smell of burning rubber assaulted our senses. “Yeah, baby,” we heard. “I say, I didn’t see any rockin’ so I came a knockin’.”

We all stared at the man with the thick glasses, mop top hair and extremely tight pants. “It can’t be,” I said.

“Oh but it can, baby. Well, you’re not a baby, that’s just one of my catch phrases. Unless, wait you’re not a man!” Suddenly the insane1960s reject was trying to pull off my shirt and my hair.

“Austin Powers, get off of him,” Ms. Maple said.

Powers looked up and squinted at Ms. Maple. “Honey?” He asked. “Honey Maple, is that you?”

“Austin, I told you never to call me that in front of people,” Ms. Maple said. I had only seen her on Skype but I didn’t think the red flushed complexion was her natural look.

Powers got up and was at her side in a flash. “Groovy, baby. And I do mean baby,” he said. “At least I didn’t tell them why I call you Honey.”

Ms. Maple giggled like a school girl.

I looked at the others and saw various reactions from the rolling of eyes to dry heaving. There was even a reindeer being used as a gag to not laugh. I just hope it had not been tried on for a fitting.

“Should we ask him why he is here?” I asked.

“I say no,” Amira said.

“Agreed,” everyone else said in unison.

“Jenna,” Amanda said. “What did you find out in El Waco?”

For some reason none of us corrected her. It was like we had entered a Twilight Zone and decided we would just go with the flow. “Cyril Bussiere is behind it all, or at least he’s a top gun. Oh, I sooo loved that movie. And the songs. Oh, Take My Breath Away was sooo good. And then You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling. I just melt every time Ronovan si—,”

“Ahem,” I said.

“Oopsie,” Jenna said. Her smile flashed.

I shook my head. “You really need to explain to them someday that you have a friend named Ronovan or this could all get really weird.”

“For sure, right?” she said.

Face palm.

“Okay, as she was saying. French Texan blogger Cyril Bussiere, also author of The World Might available on Amazon at a reasonable price and can be followed on Twitter at @CyrilBussiere, came up with a special formula that looks and tastes just like—,”

“Yes?” Kate asked.

“You were there, Kate, you know,” Elena said. “You told us what it was.”

“Oh, right. Healthy Oreo cream,” Kate said.

“Not so healthy,” I said.

“Mind altering.”

Amira was right. “And, we found blueprints,” I said.

“For what, a death ray?” Amanda asked.

“No.”

“A sting ray?” Eloise asked.

“No.”

“A blu ray?” Cat asked.

“Cat!” the rest of the L.A.W said.

“I got caught up, alright?”

“Mind controlling helmets that look like bowl cut hairstyles,” I said.

Amanda’s eyes got bigger than ever. I swear I saw photos of Thailand. “The royal family.”

“Exactly,” I said. “And possibly Rhianna and Miley Cyrus. Just saying.”

“Oh dear,” Amanda said.

“We can only stop all of this one way,” I said.

“How?” Seven female voices asked in harmony.

I just so hoped they didn’t discover they all loved ABBA. Mama Mia. “We go back in time.”

“What? How?” Eloise asked.

Amanda smiled, tilted her head to the right and gave her trademark look. “I know,” she said and pointed.

We all turned to follow her obviously mommy finger. The psychedelic painted Mini Cooper.

“No way,” said Jenna.

“Oh yeah, baby,” Amanda said.

“All aboard,” Eloise said.

I just had time to turn before Amanda ripped the onesie off.

“Oh dear,” Eloise said. “Thank goodness for this Batman onesie I had on underneath.”

I hung my head and just hoped that this would all be over soon. I had no idea crossing the ocean meant crossing into insanity. And here I always thought British women were hot. Maybe it was Australian women I was thinking of. Where was Olivia Newton John from again?

“Everyone in,” Elena said. “Ronovan, you first, backseat. Pile on the Ronovan time.” Okay maybe this wasn’t so bad after all. Wait, where was Hugh?


 

 

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A beauty so high.

Stoneworth didn’t give a fig about life. As far as he was concerned it could end in a breath and that would be just fine with him. He had lived long enough and life was a bunch of bull. Every step he took he stepped in a big pile of a reminder of it.

“Mr. Stoneworth, may I have your autograph, please,” said the young girl.

Stoneworth looked at the book and pen offered. Gritting his teeth he put on his best fake grin and signed one of his somehow formulaic but popular mysteries. If he thought it all was crap then why did he care if the girl was happy or not? Perhaps he didn’t want it to be all bad, maybe he wanted a sign of something good. Or maybe he wanted to pay bills until the crap buried him.

He left the tip on the table and then the cafe behind. His burger was not even half eaten. It was not a normal bull day.

It was worse. It was like rodeo week and he was the head scooper.

He should have stayed home and eaten the frozen Chinese dinner. It would match the frozen ears he had from the early winter wind. His work was now going to suck the rest of the day and night and he was going to be hungry. Any flow of plot he had was gone. And he had a deadline. Ten days or death would be knocking at his door. Either death or his agent. They looked about the same.

His apartment smelled like burnt hot chocolate, not coffee. He had tried the stuff but couldn’t drink it until it had enough milk, sugar and chocolate syrup in it to taste like hot chocolate. Why waste the time and the money? Just cut out the middle men.

He looked at the wall thermostat and the screwed on lock box. Freaking landlord. 65 degrees. He left his coat on and turned the small electric heater on. He let it oscillate just to have some noise in the place.

Even though he knew his purpose of the day was ruined he sat down at the laptop anyway. The 1 appeared at the top of one tab of the many opened in his browser for research on ancient Central American civilizations. His thoughts improved with hope.

He had mail. The list of songs were long and not quite his usual fare but he listened. She had sent them. He didn’t listen to much music. It caused headaches. But from her, the headaches didn’t happen. They inspired him.

My beauty has given a gift to me

One I don’t often have time to take

It could not be more sweet and dear

Unless the music her own fingers did make

How is one so beautiful

How is she in my life

If by chance life did change

“Stoneworth!”

He looked up at the ghastly form approaching. He stared through it. Why would it not leave him be? The ghost of a past that was no longer his. All he wanted was the now, the reality of what is.

He did not need what was the never was. He closed his eyes and pressed his hands together until his fingers turned white. The music started again in his ears.

“Worthless! Invalid!”

Stoneworth moved his hands to his ears and pressed hard. Forcing the music in. Driving the hate away.

The pain seared through his brain and down his spine. Cackling laughter reached his now unprotected ears. He slowly sank to the floor unable to control his movements. His body arched as spasms began.

Laughter.

Music.

Laughter.

He shut his eyes tight. Focus on her eyes, those brown eyes, focus. The cackling continued. The pain continued. But suddenly he did not care. He felt warmth touch his skin. A smile crossed his face. It didn’t matter. There was a light he could see now for the first time. And music. He was climbing higher and higher. His dream was there, higher than he had ever been before. A beauty like he would never witness again.

**

“What happened?”

“I don’t know officer. I came in when he missed his deadline for a book he was writing and found him.”

“Did you turn that heater on?”

“No officer. It was already going. I moved it away from his face though. It was really close.”

“Well, it looks like a heart attack.”

“He always said that’s how he would go.”

“Well, this looks like another case he solved before he ever got a chance to write it.”

stoneworth

Ronovan

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Female Focus Friday Reblog: Murder she wrought! AWESOME! or nuts…

Nishi is either really insane or this is like incredibly original and funny. I mean seriously. I had to Reblog this For Female Feature Friday. Go check it out and get your knives read!!!!!
Much Respect
Ronovan

The Showcase

The Farmers Wife or shall we call her Mrs Farmer was getting dinner ready at home..It was almost midday and the farmer household was quiet. The oldest of Mrs. F’s six was out in the field with Mr. Farmer and the little ones were at different spots all carrying out their allocated chores after they had come back from school. There was absolutely no dearth for work around the house and no one was too young to do their part.

She moved around the kitchen whilst preparing dinner. The Farmers were having meatloaf that evening and as she heard the kitchen timer ding, using her oven mitts she took out her signature dish out of the oven and slowly placed it on the kitchen counter. As the delicious aroma filled her kitchen, she turned to where the carving knives were placed and she could’nt help feeling a tingling sensation pass…

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