From: mpoianski@aol.com (MPoIanski)
Date: 27 May 1998 12:40:19 EDT
Stepping from the front doors of the RhyDin Asylum, Melanie felt that the gloomy weather was a fitting farewell to the place, after her voluntary incarceration. Pondering the events that led to that decision, she shivered and pulled her sweater closer about her shoulders. The walk to the paper was pleasant enough, the sun peeking from behind the clouds, as if in greeting. By the time she reached the front door, her mood was lightened
considerably. It was a different story, altogether, when she learned about the status of the paper. Knowing she had no one to blame but herself, she took a deep cleansing breath and began writng on the receptionist/Secretary's desk.
"Trixie, please see that these items are taken care of immediately." Turning, she swept into her office and closed the door.
Trixie's face began to blanch at the sight of the list, her eyes growing rounder as she read.
1. Call the typesetter and arrange an emergency printing.
2. Call a staff meeting.
3. Cancel Mr. MacDonnaugh's bar tab at the Red Dragon, The Tongue's Tryst, The Golden Ivy and the Dead Nicholas'.
Out of the Abyss
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From: jakvaltrds@aol.com (Jakvaltrds)
Date: 27 May 1998 13:21:32 EDT
::wandering into the inn after a late night of watching the tournament, Seamus orders himself a mornign bracer. Hubie quickly pours the Scot a full glass of the hair of the dog and turns his palm up toward the Baron. " That will be cash m'laird? " ::Seamus looks down at him with a furrowed brow:: "Cash ye say? No lad, put it my account as usual" I can not do that Baron Mac Donnaugh."replies the lad ::slamming a fist to the bar the Baron
looks through a squint:: An why may ask can ye nae put it on my tab? ::Hubie steps back from his reach and explains that a certain memo was received from the Duely Noted that the account was frozen until further notice. With this the Baron turns and storms from the Inn, cursing and swearing the source of this prank will be dealt with accordingly:::
Date: 27 May 1998 13:21:32 EDT
::wandering into the inn after a late night of watching the tournament, Seamus orders himself a mornign bracer. Hubie quickly pours the Scot a full glass of the hair of the dog and turns his palm up toward the Baron. " That will be cash m'laird? " ::Seamus looks down at him with a furrowed brow:: "Cash ye say? No lad, put it my account as usual" I can not do that Baron Mac Donnaugh."replies the lad ::slamming a fist to the bar the Baron
looks through a squint:: An why may ask can ye nae put it on my tab? ::Hubie steps back from his reach and explains that a certain memo was received from the Duely Noted that the account was frozen until further notice. With this the Baron turns and storms from the Inn, cursing and swearing the source of this prank will be dealt with accordingly:::
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From: jakvaltrds@aol.com (Jakvaltrds)
Date: 28 May 1998 14:29:12 EDT
::like a scene from a bad Karnafexx movie, the door to the editors office flies from its hinges::>>KAAABOOOM<< The angered Scot follows the door into Melaines domain::
::not taking time to say hello he bellows:: Just who in blazes are you to be putting a stop on my credit woman? Are ye forgettin who pays yer bloody salary lass? ::fuming he slams both palms down on her desk and leans over to bring himself eye to eye with the traitoress wench::
Date: 28 May 1998 14:29:12 EDT
::like a scene from a bad Karnafexx movie, the door to the editors office flies from its hinges::>>KAAABOOOM<< The angered Scot follows the door into Melaines domain::
::not taking time to say hello he bellows:: Just who in blazes are you to be putting a stop on my credit woman? Are ye forgettin who pays yer bloody salary lass? ::fuming he slams both palms down on her desk and leans over to bring himself eye to eye with the traitoress wench::
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From: mpoianski@aol.com (MPoIanski)
Date: 29 May 1998 00:04:16 EDT
:::raising her eyes in the tiniest of increments, she made him wait a full fifteen seconds before they met his. Leaning back ever so slowly, she pressed her fingers together, the tips forming an apex over which she peered. Drawing a deep breath, she created the illusion of irritation.:::
"I see that I have your full attention, now, Mr. MacDonnaugh."
::leaning forward, she pulled a Pedrone from a box on her desk, lit it and watched the smoke curl lazily to the ceiling, before continuing:::
"When I was editor of the Chicago Tribune, you sent a messenger to woo me to RhyDin, at no little cost to you, I might add. You said you wanted to create a paper unlike any RhyDin had ever seen, one of quality that would meet the needs of the people. :::crossing one leg over the other she rested her chin in her hand, her index finger coming to rest on her lips momentarily, as if in contemplation. Her eyes suddenly narrowed::: I believe I've kept my
end of the bargain, sir, and you've kept yours, I've a more creative control than any Editor in the history of the Chicago Tribune. I suddenly find that it isn't enough. I've caught your passion, you see, your desire to serve the people through the media, to meet their demand."
::Pausing, she rose from her seat and crossed to the window, gesturing toward the street:::
What has caused your passion for these people to wane....and die?
::nearly bristles:::
I left you with a nearly completed paper, all the machinery well oiled and in good condition. Yet there hasn't been one printing, not one! My writers are confused and uncertain, or bloated on the excess of inactivity. And before I left! :::blusters::: The budget we're working with won't allow enough help to blow our noses and the staff I *do* have has been completely overworked. Well, I'm back, and if you want to keep me, there'll have to be some
changes, not the least of which is your own increased participation in the daily running of the paper. :::smiles ever-so-sweetly, her complete change of attitude mirroring Jekyll/Hyde:::
I do hope I've made myself clear.
Date: 29 May 1998 00:04:16 EDT
:::raising her eyes in the tiniest of increments, she made him wait a full fifteen seconds before they met his. Leaning back ever so slowly, she pressed her fingers together, the tips forming an apex over which she peered. Drawing a deep breath, she created the illusion of irritation.:::
"I see that I have your full attention, now, Mr. MacDonnaugh."
::leaning forward, she pulled a Pedrone from a box on her desk, lit it and watched the smoke curl lazily to the ceiling, before continuing:::
"When I was editor of the Chicago Tribune, you sent a messenger to woo me to RhyDin, at no little cost to you, I might add. You said you wanted to create a paper unlike any RhyDin had ever seen, one of quality that would meet the needs of the people. :::crossing one leg over the other she rested her chin in her hand, her index finger coming to rest on her lips momentarily, as if in contemplation. Her eyes suddenly narrowed::: I believe I've kept my
end of the bargain, sir, and you've kept yours, I've a more creative control than any Editor in the history of the Chicago Tribune. I suddenly find that it isn't enough. I've caught your passion, you see, your desire to serve the people through the media, to meet their demand."
::Pausing, she rose from her seat and crossed to the window, gesturing toward the street:::
What has caused your passion for these people to wane....and die?
::nearly bristles:::
I left you with a nearly completed paper, all the machinery well oiled and in good condition. Yet there hasn't been one printing, not one! My writers are confused and uncertain, or bloated on the excess of inactivity. And before I left! :::blusters::: The budget we're working with won't allow enough help to blow our noses and the staff I *do* have has been completely overworked. Well, I'm back, and if you want to keep me, there'll have to be some
changes, not the least of which is your own increased participation in the daily running of the paper. :::smiles ever-so-sweetly, her complete change of attitude mirroring Jekyll/Hyde:::
I do hope I've made myself clear.
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From: jakvaltrds@aol.com (Jakvaltrds)
Date: 29 May 1998 01:10:25 EDT
::heaving with anger he stood before her, waiting for her eyes to meet his, quietly listening to her list of demands and noting the subtleties of her actions. As the last word past from her lips he pondered a moment to settle his hot temper before responding then thoughfully he speaks.:: Melanie, I understand ye ha'e been under a bit of stress of late. I know full well it has taken its tole. Ye ha'e done a fine job of managin this paper
up till yer wee vacation an I am greatful as a man can be. As for the monies needed to add staff take liberty and hire the best in Rhy Din. Gi' more to those who deserve it as well. Double yer own blasted salary if tha' be wha' it takes to get this paper published. But take note lass, if you e'er tell another inn keeper to close my account, ye will find yerself peddling papers back in yer Chicago.
Now lass, do I ha'e yer attention?
Date: 29 May 1998 01:10:25 EDT
::heaving with anger he stood before her, waiting for her eyes to meet his, quietly listening to her list of demands and noting the subtleties of her actions. As the last word past from her lips he pondered a moment to settle his hot temper before responding then thoughfully he speaks.:: Melanie, I understand ye ha'e been under a bit of stress of late. I know full well it has taken its tole. Ye ha'e done a fine job of managin this paper
up till yer wee vacation an I am greatful as a man can be. As for the monies needed to add staff take liberty and hire the best in Rhy Din. Gi' more to those who deserve it as well. Double yer own blasted salary if tha' be wha' it takes to get this paper published. But take note lass, if you e'er tell another inn keeper to close my account, ye will find yerself peddling papers back in yer Chicago.
Now lass, do I ha'e yer attention?
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From: mpoianski@aol.com (MPoIanski)
Date: 29 May 1998 08:36:16 EDT
::extends her hand, a cheshire cat grin on her face:::
"It's a deal!"
Date: 29 May 1998 08:36:16 EDT
::extends her hand, a cheshire cat grin on her face:::
"It's a deal!"
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From: jakvaltrds@aol.com (Jakvaltrds)
Date: 29 May 1998 14:00:29 EDT
::taking the ladies hand in his and gripping it firmly :: Aye lass, then I will have someone take care of the door on the morrow. Now get those reporters off their duffs so I don't lose another months income
Date: 29 May 1998 14:00:29 EDT
::taking the ladies hand in his and gripping it firmly :: Aye lass, then I will have someone take care of the door on the morrow. Now get those reporters off their duffs so I don't lose another months income