I’m the Professor’s daughter who became an eccentric artist. After several years spent in the Himalayas, I have returned to this little postage stamp of soil goofier than ever.
Occasionally, I can be seen on the town square in my nightgown, feeding the squirrels and birds. I had to “go away” for awhile after some nutcase in the clocktower mowed down half my little buddies.
I play bass guitar with Shakin’Shayna and The Sin Twisters.
And I love the book club. Falcon: Is it true that you moonlight as the midnight telephone operator, who cuts in on conversations with advice and encouragement?
I’m the town newspaper man, publishing the weekly Dopesville Tattler. I aspire to work for the National Enquirer. Today’s edition of the Tattler screams “DRUG DEALER BUSTED FOR GAY TRIST IN DOPESVILLE SQUARE”
Picture shows Silo pulling up his pants while lead away in cuffs.
Free complimentary magnifying glass is included with today’s issue.
sound of extreamly loud motorycle pipes door flies open and B_Line rides motorcycle into bar grabs a beer off of coldies bar that was for someone else and slams it down flips collar up
Dammit! SqrlCub beat me to the “seedy underground” thing. Oh, well. What the hell.
I am the strange girl who lives alone and never comes out during the daytime. I have aluminum foil over all my windows. However… I recently started leading a double life as Mistress Christabel, running an underground S&M club that attracts a lot of people from the Big City, where such things are illegal due to city ordinances that we’re too quaint to have even seen the need for. We don’t look too closely at IDs, and the teenagers of the town often sneak in for a little corruption while their parents are at Coldfire’s or those boring book club meetings… Flypsyde wants to shut us down, but can’t. The last time he was here, somebody got pictures… However, things are starting to look a little rough. SqrlCub has been heard to growl that “this town isn’t big enough for both of us”, and that he intends to run me out of the depravity business for good. Out of desperation, I’ve had to develop contacts in the Cecilian Mafia…
Ok the diner’s open and ready for business. I’m short on waitresses here so ya’ll have to be patient. This ain’t no seedy joint, we serve only the finest.
Step right up to the counter and place ya order.
Don’t pay no attention do the dogs hanging around back.
Hey neuro, comin’ to my party tonight? Lesbo activity is permitted, however male-male activity is strictly forbode (you can come over Sqrl, but the bedrooms are off limits for you and your buddies). My crib, my rules.
Well, it’s about time we opened up a hotel in this town, what with all the tourists passing through; I’ll be the bemused “How To…” author (a la Bob Newhart) who renovates the old Bed and Breakfast at the far end of Main Street. (Our motto: Fight ignorance in cozy comfort.)
I usually have three or four rooms vacant, but we get plumb full whenever we have to serve as a triage point for the town doctor after one of Milosarrian’s ill-conceived Chamber of Commerce fiascoes…
(Some of the rooms are always occupied, though. —See this hallway at the top of the side stairs? Ssshhh, be very quiet; this is the Lurker wing. They don’t like to be noticed or disturbed.)
By the way, I’m hiring cleaning and kitchen staff, and I really need a good concierge. Any applicants?
I am the local locksmith/gunsmith in town. My shop is across the street from Saint zero’s body shop where I help out from time to time. U. Ike is my best customer always selling him bullets (custom made little powder in the casing and tin coated rubber bullets. (now you know why he has not killed anyone))
I spend some evening out over at Coldie’s bar(insert long list of dopers who work/frequent there) where I harrass him to help me translate my 18th century dutch bible.
I sit there most nights, drinking with jjjfishe and try to convince her to buy the pet store next to my place. You know the one. It has the sign,“Gerbils, hamsters and ferrets for sale!” I figure jjjfishe would love it and old man Wally should be selling it real cheap. Everyone knows he would much rather spend his time fixing that old bike of his.
I can’t believe those holier-than-thou prisses don’t realize that I know just how much time they spend trekking up and down that hill to tymp’s!
A little birdie told me that one of 'em has the gall to try to do a little checking into my life before I married Big Bill. Don’t know what she thinks she’s going to do with it conisdering her own current goings on.
Too bad Big Bill died suddenly just a year after our wedding. He’d have loved this!
Hooray! Only I suggest that with 3 singers and no musicians we switch to a cappella format (like we had a choice). Our close harmonies and beautiful blending will scarcely be noticed by the drunken hordes, but they shall be their own reward.
