Sidebar or The tea tasted strange
The crystal thread certainly grew lively after the tea break. It was supposed to be Earl Gray but several people had noted that the tea had a very earthy tone, like Formosa Oolong. It never crossed anyone's mind of course that the tea had been spiked.
The first signs of the tea having an effect was the mouse, he appeared shortly after the impromptu singing of Canadian dirty ditty's, nobody knew enough Spanish to translate the whole song, so English was reluctantly used. The mouse had a foil he carried in hand, which showed some signs of use and he waved it around with wild abandon, striking several small creatures. Newcomers began to enquire about the state of affairs. The chips of wood and drying garbage all over the place, the snakeskin, the old stump, all wavered and became indistinct, the scene was replaced by a little cottage, the mouse began to sing.
When the saint appeared a glorious burst of gregorian chant, flavored with a hint of quesadilla, greeted her princess highness, everyone laughed, have some more tea. All were pronounced "members of the cult" by her holiness, after kissing one of the many as*es of a squat little gargoyle that hovered nearby, she disappeared with her holy into the private area to a private rendezvous, leaving her trademark last word behind so all would know that this site was "holy". As strange as that was, it was greeted by laughter, the cake really lit the place up. The burning of the flag and several undergarments had made more smoke than fire or light. It was a French 4 quarters cake, and it rose like the sun, the rush of hunger was greeted by the sounds of slurping tea, serious pronouncements aside, the cake looked a little flat. An air pump would be needed, perhaps the Ritz people would supply one. The satanists had a thread where someone was sure to have a barbacoa, perhaps some of the morels and chanterelles could be barbacoa'd to a crisp golden brown, they would be good served up with the cake which, eeeeek, someone had iced the cake with dog shi*, who would wreck a nice cake like that, nothing a bit more tea wouldn't fix. |