Author Topic: "Morgan the BG"  (Read 549 times)

Offline MTC29

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Re: "Morgan the BG"
« Reply #15 on: June 18, 2017, 06:54:01 PM »
The Macronesian Islands? With the Wong Corporation deciding to construct casinos on the Micronesian Islands, the man made islands of Macronesia fell into despair and have become a hot bed of FLAB activity. Pity. They had so much potential. 
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Offline Gulliver63

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Re: "Morgan the BG"
« Reply #16 on: June 18, 2017, 08:50:39 PM »
Ah, yes - the Macronesian Islands, one of those handy country names I can just throw out there. And many of the islands, which the Wongs can sell you, are man-made. They can even have engines to steer them clear of typhoons. Really a sad thing when they run into each other, though. You'll also see the amazing country of Lower Volta come up in this story.
"When I was a kid my parents moved a lot, but I always found them." Rodney Dangerfield

"Always carry a flagon of whiskey in case of snakebite and furthermore, always carry a small snake." W. C. Fields

Offline El-Man

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Re: "Morgan the BG"
« Reply #17 on: June 19, 2017, 11:31:30 AM »
They can even have engines to steer them clear of typhoons.

Doesn't that technically make them the Macronesian fleet? :)

You'll also see the amazing country of Lower Volta come up in this story.

That's the place with unreliable electric grid, right?

Offline Gulliver63

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Re: "Morgan the BG"
« Reply #18 on: June 19, 2017, 02:03:06 PM »
Quote
Doesn't that technically make them the Macronesian fleet? :)

Actually, that idea was part of a never published Venture Brothers story that I recently shared with MTC. I figured that if anyone can sell you a movable island, it would be Daddy Wong. Movable island...is that anything like a movable feast day?

Quote
That's the place with unreliable electric grid, right?

Up until 1984 there was an Upper Volta, which is now Burkino Faso. There was never a Lower Volta, which I felt was terribly unfair to the Lower Voltese. I gave them their own country, their own flag, and their own founding father, Generalissimo Flibby Sheznikk. And for many years to come, life will be prosperous there. :)


"When I was a kid my parents moved a lot, but I always found them." Rodney Dangerfield

"Always carry a flagon of whiskey in case of snakebite and furthermore, always carry a small snake." W. C. Fields

Offline Gulliver63

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Re: "Morgan the BG"
« Reply #19 on: June 22, 2017, 08:18:08 AM »
...Morgan has to hang out with a real live tiger, and her enemy makes his manifesto known...

Several weeks later, Morgan was doing her famous photoshoot with a real live tiger for People Week Magazine. She was dressed in an outfit made mostly of leather that made her look like a warrior woman from ancient Rome. She looked nervously at the creature, and then over at its trainer.
   "This thing is safe, isn't it? This beast won't hurt me, will it? They're going to need me in my job for at least the next five years, and I don't intend on doing it from a wheelchair."
   "Don't worry about a thing, Miss Proctor. We'll protect you as best we can."
   "That's very comforting. If it kills me, I'm never speaking to you again."
   Morgan's protection droid stepped closer. "Mum, I'm trained to keep you safe."
   "I'll be okay, Rob. But just be handy in case I need you."
   After only a few pictures were shot, Morgan's advisor Jeri caught up with her.
   "Jeri...can this wait? I've got about 800 pounds of angry cat sitting next to me. If you agitate it, I might be next on the menu."
   "Miss P, I think you need to see this." She projected a holographic image from her wrist-thingee. "FLAB leader Uriah Simms has somehow jacked the signal to ENN, and he's making his manifesto."
   Morgan burned with anger as she watched this young man express his views and demands; they stood against everything she'd ever worked for - what kind of an ingrate would destroy their career chip...and encourage others to do the same?. The tiger next to her began to get anxious.
   The animal trainer looked concerned. "Miss Proctor, Katarina here can sense your anger."
   Morgan stood up. "Can I get out of this get-up? I've really got work to do. I've got to do some damage control with this freak."
   The photographer stood up and shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose I've got enough pictures to work with."
   She watched the man drone on and on, until the ENN technicians were able to restore their signal. She just shook her head.
   "Son of a bitch," she whispered under her breath. "I can tell I'm going to have problems with this guy."

"When I was a kid my parents moved a lot, but I always found them." Rodney Dangerfield

"Always carry a flagon of whiskey in case of snakebite and furthermore, always carry a small snake." W. C. Fields

Offline Gulliver63

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Re: "Morgan the BG"
« Reply #20 on: June 24, 2017, 10:30:40 AM »
...Big changes are afoot at the Bureaucracy...and Morgan finds herself left out of the master plan.

A meeting at 3 in the morning wasn't an unusual thing for a Bureaucrat General, so Morgan kept a suit handy for just such an occasion. Morgan officially moved into the fancy Chichester House, residence of the Bureaucrat Generals, but she was almost never there; she preferred to stay in the modest apartment in the Bureaucracy Building jokingly called the "war bunker" most of the time. It wasn't fancy, but Morgan typically viewed luxury as superfluous. Plus, it was somewhat of a comfort just living in the main building. Morgan met up with her war cabinet in the West Room, and her chief aid John Groves met her at the door.
   "You're going to like the news we have for you," he said.
   "You all look bright-eyed and bushy-tailed," she said to the group, "what have you gotten me up for?"
   Mr. Kawaguchi was there. "Miss Morgan, we found him."
   "Him? Uriah?"
   "Yes ma'am." The security agent flashed a graphic map on the screen. "He's been hiding out in a bunker on a man-made resort island in Macronesia called Pleasant Palms, just as we'd suspected."
   Morgan rubbed her hands together like a happy child. "Well, let's go in there and arrest him."
   Kawaguchi looked confused. "Ah...it's not as simple as that, Madam General."
   "Not as simple as what - why can't we arrest him? What's the problem? I know we've got the jurisdiction."
   General Trimble of the Bureaucracy Military Service answered her. "He's hunkered down in a military-style bunker like a Texas armadillo. It's going to take something strong to root him out."
   She blinked her eyes. "Root him out...with what then? I don't know much about these Texas armadillos."
   The General continued. "The leadership upstairs recommended a Roman Candle. One drop in and our problem is solved."
   Morgan looked around the room like a confused child. "Roman Candle? What in the hell is a Roman Candle?"
   Kawaguchi answered, clearing his throat. "Uh, it's a small nuclear device, with only a 30 ton yield. The kill radius would only be a few hundred feet, and the burn radius a few hundred more. It's very clean." He continued the explanation by using his hands to demonstrate the concept. "They're very good at reaching an enemy in deep bunkers."
   A pin could have been heard striking the floor. Morgan blinked her eyes again. "Jesus, Joseph and Mary, you're going to drop a nuke into the bunker? Didn't you just get done telling me that he was near a resort town?"
   The general continued. "It's very clean - very little in the way of radioactive fallout."
   "Very little? How much is very little? Absolutely not - we are not dropping a nuke on this guy's house. There's got to be another way."
   John Groves added his view. "But ma'am...the board upstairs - they wanted to approach this group from a position of strength - you've got to admit that it sends a signal."
   "Yes, it does...that I'm a homicidal butcher. My answer is no, and that's final. I suggest you start working on an alternative plan. There's got to be some way we can nab this guy when he crawls out of his hole - he's got to go into town sometime..."
 
   On the 13th floor of the Bureaucracy Building, a place that few people even in the Bureaucracy knew about, 13 board members held an emergency meeting with General Trimble and John Groves. The board members' faces were kept in the dark, so that no one really knew who they were. They were the real power behind the Bureaucracy; in truth, Morgan and her predecessors were little more than figureheads that the public dealt with. These men and women literally ran planet Earth.
   "What was our Bureaucrat General's reaction?" asked a man with a southern accent.
   "As you can guess," Groves told them, "she was hesitant to use the gadget."
   A Korean woman then spoke. "Afraid that it might damage her administration - I can understand that."
   "No," Groves said, "genuinely worried about the casualties."
   The man with the southern accent spoke again. "Did you explain that this device was very low yield? Very clean? There probably wouldn't be many casualties."
   "Of course," said the general. "She still wouldn't hear of it."
   "We'll roll ahead with the project anyway. I want one pulled from the weapons bunker at the airfield and readied for use." The mysterious board member stamped the paperwork 'approved.' "Again, not a word of this leaves this room; the Bureaucracy must not tolerate any infectious disease that would endanger it - this man Uriah is to be eliminated, as soon as possible."
   A Brazilian man asked a question. "Should we remove Miss Proctor while we're at it?"
   "No," said the man with the southern accent. "Let her enjoy her success. If she looks successful, we look successful. She's one of the best PR people we've ever had. We’ll work around this little wrinkle in our plans – I’m sure she’ll come around to our way of thinking."

"When I was a kid my parents moved a lot, but I always found them." Rodney Dangerfield

"Always carry a flagon of whiskey in case of snakebite and furthermore, always carry a small snake." W. C. Fields

Offline Ramon 51

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Re: "Morgan the BG"
« Reply #21 on: June 26, 2017, 01:18:15 AM »
Gracious! Morgan has a real problem on her hands! :mellow: I can't wait for the next installment. :wannaeat: :thumbsup: :thumbsup:
"Even in literature and art, no man who bothers about originality will ever be original: whereas if you simply try to tell the truth (without caring twopence how often it has been told before) you will, nine times out of ten, become original without ever having noticed it."
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Offline Gulliver63

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Re: "Morgan the BG"
« Reply #22 on: June 27, 2017, 08:22:28 AM »
...Morgan finds out that when the people upstairs want to do something, they don't need to ask her permission...

The annual Easter egg hunt on the Bureaucracy lawn was a time for both adults and children to let their hair down.  The children of the Bureaucracy employees had a fun time trying to find the electronic eggs hidden all through the maze-like shrubbery. Even Morgan had fun giving an interview to Linda van Schoonhoven of Good Morning Earth.
   Morgan laughed at one of the questions. "No, Linda, we're not serving pie on the lawn today - my rules. Anyone seen with one will have it taken away."
   In a rare moment, Morgan took a few seconds to clown around with one of the smaller children. She pointed over to a bush. "Look in there...go on...look over there." The child happily found an Easter egg in the bush and smiled back at her. It was a rare moment for Morgan to feel the way that most human beings felt. For that second she imagined what it would be like to have her own child.
   Morgan's aids Jeri and Gregory caught up with her on the lawn.
   "Hey, you brought the Time Week cover...did the pictures with the tiger turn out alright? I know that photo shoot meant a lot to you guys."
   Both of them had very serious looks on their faces. Gregory spoke first. "We need to pull you aside for a minute."
   "Today? But this...the kids..." She could tell by their expressions that it was important. She pointed across the lawn. "The command trailer over here..."
   As soon as they stepped into the trailer, they turned on a television on the wall. Earthican News Network was playing a shaky video of a black mushroom cloud drifting out over ocean water; it had dissipated, and resembled a mean little volcano blast.
   "They've been playing this video over and over for the last 20 minutes," Jeri told her.
   "...For those of you just joining us, this footage was shot from a wrist-thingee in a Pacific Ocean resort - we've got very little information at this point, but many vacationers heard the sound of the explosion..."
   Morgan whispered just one word: "Jesus..."

   The next day Morgan's minders caught up with her in the Chichester House in a small guest bedroom; Rob, ever vigilant, was in the room with her. "I've spent the whole morning showing off this place to a reporter," she remarked, "I can't imagine who would want to see it. I'm never here. Now I guess it won't matter anyway. What are you two chasing me down for? Does some magazine want to do a picture of me with an ocelot or something?"
   Gregory spoke with some measure of pride. "Morgan, I brought champagne!" He popped the cork off and began to fill a glass for her.
   Morgan accepted the glass, and glumly looked at it. "Well, if I'm going to go out, it might as well be with a celebration." She gulped down the glass, and beckoned for another.
   "What do you mean, go out? We brought good news," Jeri told her.
   "What good news? When the fires get ramped up about this nuke thing, they'll be burning me in effigy in the town square. I'll be lucky if I'm not lynched." She gulped down more champagne.
   "Burn in effigy? Morgan, you've received a 78% approval rating; that's one of the highest of a BG in years."
   Morgan looked at him like he'd gone mad. "Gregory, you've lost me; help me out here. Why would my approval rating be so high? I did this thing...even if I didn't do it, I'm responsible for it."
   Jeri chimed in again. "Miss Proctor, haven't you been keeping up with the news?"
   "Why in the hell should I? I'm doomed anyway. Give me that damn bottle."
   Gregory turned on the TV set in the room with a remote. ENN had a fancy computerized chart on the screen showing the various levels of the FLAB underground lair.
   "...as you can see by this graphic, the terrorists somehow caused a runaway reaction in the device they were building and at some point it detonated..."
   Morgan's jaw slid open as General Trimble appeared on the screen to answer questions.
   "...I personally have to give a lot of credit to Bureaucrat General Proctor for having a hospital ship on station when the thing went off; her quick thinking with the intelligence given her probably saved many lives."
   Morgan just stood there not breathing as the images of the wounded being loaded on to stretchers returned to the TV screen; they were then flown out to the hospital ship by hovercopter. The rescue workers were able to get in close, as the bomb was very clean. Some of the dead and wounded were merely vacationers that had no idea that Simms was even on the island. In an instant a flash of energy from a shattered atom turned their world into a nightmare. Morgan's hands began to shake, and her face turned red. "Those bastards had me showing off this stupid mansion so I'd be out of the way..."
   Jeri tried to reassure her. "You've become one of the most popular BG's in years."
   The trembling of Morgan's hands became more noticeable. With a loud scream, she threw the champagne bottle into the TV set, causing it to explode on the wall.
   "Get out...all of you, get out!" Tears streamed down her face.
   Gregory tried to talk with her.
   "GET...OUT!!" Without a word, they left. She sobbed. "You too, Rob."
   "But mum..."
   She pointed to the hallway. "Stand outside the door until you are needed; I'm not fighting you on this."
   "Yes, mum."
   At some point in the late evening, Morgan fell asleep on the floor. As she lay in a deep sleep, a small army of robots came in, cleaned up the mess, and even replaced the shattered television with a shiny new one.

"When I was a kid my parents moved a lot, but I always found them." Rodney Dangerfield

"Always carry a flagon of whiskey in case of snakebite and furthermore, always carry a small snake." W. C. Fields

Offline Ramon 51

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Re: "Morgan the BG"
« Reply #23 on: June 30, 2017, 01:52:31 AM »
Wow! :mellow: Morgan sure is riding an emotional roller coaster! :thumbsup: :thumbsup: Keep it up. :wannaeat:
"Even in literature and art, no man who bothers about originality will ever be original: whereas if you simply try to tell the truth (without caring twopence how often it has been told before) you will, nine times out of ten, become original without ever having noticed it."
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Offline Gulliver63

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Re: "Morgan the BG"
« Reply #24 on: July 01, 2017, 03:12:59 AM »
...Morgan seeks a balm for her weary soul; after trying to reconnect with her faith, she ends up finding solace in a bottle.

That next day Morgan slipped away from her minders, and had Rob take her to St. Patrick's Cathedral. As she gazed up at the tall stone church, she noted at how well it had withstood the alien invasion of Earth; Rockefeller Plaza across the street was not as fortunate.
As she moved through the foyer toward the glass wall of the sanctuary, Rob wanted to go in with her. She turned to speak with him in a compassionate voice; he was like a child who only knew one thing - to protect his Bureaucrat General.
   "Rob, I'm going to need you to stay outside here and keep a watch for me."
   "But mum..."
   "Rob, do you have any idea what the word 'sanctity' means?"
   "Mum, the dictionary describes it as the state or condition of something being sacred."
   Just like a small child, she could tell that he had no idea of what the word really meant...she tried a different tack. "Rob, I've got a super secret meeting in there; really hush-hush stuff. No robots allowed, not even you. I need you to stay out here in the narthex and make sure no bad thugs come after me, okay?"
   "Yes, mum...I'll stay on station as you’ve requested. I have an excellent view of any hazardous persons from here."
   "Good man; stout lad." She patted him on the chest, and walked into the sanctuary.
   Morgan went down on one knee, crossed herself, and then went into a pew. She even pulled out a set of rosaries and began to thumb them absent-mindedly, more out of nervousness than actual worship. She had a good view of the old wooden confession booths, and it wasn't long before she spotted the elderly priest coming along to hear his confessions.
   Morgan was a woman on a mission. "I've got to tell someone," she thought, "or I'll burst. I can't die with all this on my soul. Either through my action, or my inaction, I've taken several human lives. I can't live like this anymore. Maybe God will have some mercy on my wretched soul if I can just confess what I've done."
   When the first woman that went in to the booth finally left, she saw her opportunity. Morgan felt like a shipwreck survivor preparing to swim over to a lifeboat. She then spotted another man sit down at a nearby pew. He was well dressed in an expensive Martian deerskin suit. He didn't genuflect, he didn't cross himself, he didn't bow...he just sat down. He obviously wasn't Catholic. And then he looked at her with those hideous mirrored sunglasses. They knew that she was here.
   "Oh God," she thought to herself, "if I spill my guts to this priest about the nuke, they'll just make him disappear and stick another priest in here. I couldn't live with that either. I can't have any more lives on my soul than I already do."
   Morgan let her head slump down in utter defeat. God, if you're up there, please forgive me. She crossed herself, went down on her knee outside of the pew, and quietly left the sanctuary.
   Rob was there to greet her. "I trust the meeting went well, mum."
   "Just peachy, Rob. Let's go back over to the Bureaucracy Building." Morgan was quiet for the whole trip back in the air-car. The robot seemed oblivious to the fact that she was softly crying; he wasn’t programmed to interpret human emotional states.
   Morgan spent the next several days in seclusion at Camp Edgar on Venus; officially she was on a few days vacation, but Morgan didn't do vacations. In reality most of her time was spent locked up in her office there, digging through piles of paperwork. Occasionally she would peak out of her window to see happy vacation goers water ski past the white sand beaches, but she couldn't feel the joy that they felt. She was still in pain over the slaughter of the anti-Bureaucracy terrorists and any unlucky tourists that got in the way. And as much as she disagreed with the terrorists, they still deserved due process. The tragedy had all been written off by the news agencies, but it still weighed heavy on Morgan's heart – no one in the general public knew the real truth about the explosion. She looked over her paperwork and poured another glass full of bourbon. She then heard a communicator beep. "What is it?"
   "Morgan?" It was the voice of Groves, who was genuinely concerned. "Are you still alive there?"
   "You've gotten my reports, haven't you?"
   "Yes, but the Big 8 conference is coming up in St. Petersburg next week, and we've got to brief you on that."
   "Can't you just do a holo-conference for me?"
   "Morgan, we need to brief you in person."
   "So, you're sending a ship for me."
   "Yes - as a matter of fact, it's on its way. The luxury job...with the nice seats."
   "Give me an ETA, and I'll be out with my bag."
   Morgan Proctor ended the conversation without a good-bye, which was becoming her trademark nowadays...not that she was ever really that friendly. She took a healthy sip of her bourbon. "They're sending a ship for me," she thought. "I'm little more than just a toy for them to take out of the toy box when they feel like playing. I'm like a dog on a leash. I could go anywhere in the universe, and they'd send a ship for me to bring me back."
   She then looked at her bottle. "Venusian bourbon?" Ick."
   When she stepped outside into the bright sunlight of Venus, her faithful robot bodyguard was standing there. "Rob, we're heading home - we’ve played hookie long enough."
   "Yes, mum."
"When I was a kid my parents moved a lot, but I always found them." Rodney Dangerfield

"Always carry a flagon of whiskey in case of snakebite and furthermore, always carry a small snake." W. C. Fields

Offline Flounder

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Re: "Morgan the BG"
« Reply #25 on: July 02, 2017, 11:13:52 PM »
Oh goodness.  I'm getting lots of headaches with pictures about where this can all lead.

Morgan will solve it all in her inimitable style.  Can't wait to see that!

 :thumbsup: :thumbsup: :thumbsup: :thumbsup:
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Offline Gulliver63

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Re: "Morgan the BG"
« Reply #26 on: July 02, 2017, 11:58:58 PM »
Quote
Morgan will solve it all in her inimitable style.  Can't wait to see that!

As we've started to see, she's getting a taste for alcoholic beverages...
"When I was a kid my parents moved a lot, but I always found them." Rodney Dangerfield

"Always carry a flagon of whiskey in case of snakebite and furthermore, always carry a small snake." W. C. Fields

Offline Gulliver63

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Re: "Morgan the BG"
« Reply #27 on: July 04, 2017, 11:43:03 PM »
When Morgan shows up at her meeting, she finds out that she will get more than she bargained for...and that there are very un-PC terms for psionics...

When Morgan met with her "war staff" in New New York, she noticed some extra faces. She looked around the room. "This isn't my typical briefing. Mr. Pendlebury here deals with psionics...oh, now wait just a darn minute."
   John Groves spoke. "Morgan, we have some good intel that a deeply-imbedded psionic assassin will be there at the conference in Russia."
   Morgan waved her hands in front of her. "Whoa...I don't do psionics. I haven't had good experiences with them. Besides, I've got Rob here."
   "Rob is a good android, but he's not designed for this kind of mission. He will be there as well if you'd like."
   A young Amphibiosan woman stepped forward to address her. She tipped her head to Morgan, and audible words formed inside of her mind. "Ma'am, perhaps it would be helpful if I introduced myself to you."
   Morgan's eyes got large, and she backed away as if she'd seen a snake in a garden. She pointed a finger at the girl. "You, you did that thing - you were in my mind. I didn't give you permission to be in there. John, I told you I don't cotton to this crap! I'm not having these people run around in my brain like a bunch of teenage vandals in a building."
   The Amphibiosan woman spoke. "I'm sorry to unnerve you like that, Miss Proctor. My name is Jasmeel Sevanar. My gift sometimes makes people quite nervous."
   "Nervous, yes...they call you 'peepers,' don't they?"
   Groves intervened. "Morgan, that's really an insulting term..."
   "Well, do they? You are like a Peeping Tom in an apartment flat."
   Jasmeel looked down. "Well, I don't really care for the title...it's hard to evade it here in the hallways of the Bureaucracy."
   Morgan collected herself. "Young lady, I didn't mean to be rude to you; I'm just very frightened of what you do." She looked around the room. "Where is the other? You people usually travel as a pair."
   Again, Groves coughed. "Morgan, 'you people' sounds so offensive..."
   A slightly built young man in a Bureaucracy uniform sheepishly raised his hand. "Samuel Spencer, ma'am - I'm you're mover."
   "Mover, huh...I could use someone to move me some Martian Mariner right about now."
   With a gentle move of his hands, the bottle of scotch floated over with a glass. Some of the people in the room chuckled in amazement as she grabbed both items.
   "Not very damn funny, Mr. Spencer...but thank you anyway. You must have been a hoot at college parties."
   Spencer remained quiet and smiled.
   Groves winced about the scotch being her first choice for a demonstration. "Morgan, are you done with this dog and pony show? They aren't trained monkeys, for Christ's sake..."
   Morgan's eyes burned into Groves'. "Jonathon Groves, you're going to talk me into this, aren't you?"
   Groves gave her a gentle smirk. "Morgan, when have I been able to talk you into anything? You'll have to make this call for yourself. We feel that there is a considerable danger."
   "Good point." She gulped a small amount of scotch, and put the bottle and glass on the table. "Alright, so be it. I want to talk to these two young people alone, and get to know them over lunch; we'll reconvene here in an hour. Mr. Groves, I'll see you privately later today."
   As the group began to file out, Morgan turned to her android. "Rob - recognize these two under security protocol one alpha alpha. Guys, this is Rob, from Sheffield - he's my knight in plasteel armor."
   Mr. Pendlebury handed Morgan two items the size of passports. "These are their licenses; the Russian government has already been notified of their coming."
   As Morgan walked out of the conference room with her two new bodyguards, she began to relax a bit in their presence. "I know an Amphibiosan; a good friend of mine is married to one."
   "Yes - Kif Kroker...I know him, and his daughter."
   Morgan's eyes again got large as the exterior door of the building opened, as if by magic. She looked at Spencer.
   "The hoo-doo again, huh?"
   "It just seemed right to open a door for you two ladies."
   She stared for just a second. "Right. That it is. Mr. Spencer, Jasmeel, there's a place near here that serves great lobster; I grew up on the east coast, and I know good seafood when I taste it. I've been told that I walk fast, so try and keep up."
   Jasmeel again answered inside of Morgan's mind. "Yes, Miss Proctor."
   Morgan pointed at the woman and gave her an evil smile. "See, you did it again..."
   “Sorry Miss Proctor - old habits die hard.”


"When I was a kid my parents moved a lot, but I always found them." Rodney Dangerfield

"Always carry a flagon of whiskey in case of snakebite and furthermore, always carry a small snake." W. C. Fields

Offline El-Man

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Re: "Morgan the BG"
« Reply #28 on: July 05, 2017, 12:09:53 AM »
Nothing from Morgan about Jasmeel's non-regulation hat? She's mellowing.  :)

Offline Gulliver63

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Re: "Morgan the BG"
« Reply #29 on: July 05, 2017, 12:39:23 AM »
::laughs:: Amphibiosan women wear somewhat of a different hat anyway, as they are bald. You'll soon find out that "Jazz" here becomes far more valuable to waste time complaining about a head dress  :)
"When I was a kid my parents moved a lot, but I always found them." Rodney Dangerfield

"Always carry a flagon of whiskey in case of snakebite and furthermore, always carry a small snake." W. C. Fields