exuberant, Nancy and Addidas' eyes locked. Ice blue and steely grey, the gleaming eyes bored into each other like lasers. Like sexy lazers. Nancy's hand reached out to Addidas' face. Suddely, the two ILSMs were grasping at each other, grabbing, sucking face like neither of them had ever sucked face before. The electricity was palpable. Even the panda felt it. Watching these two bikini-clad sexpot goddesses fondle each other's naked bodies, the panda knew, like she had never known before, that she was the luckiest panda alive. The bomb placed in her panda-belly by lesiban hating terrorists been diffused, and she would live to see the round, fuzzy, adorable face of her panda love, Amanda, who shared her cage. the panda lept up and romped towards where Amanda waited in the shadows, also transfixed by the sight of ILSM love. As the two pandas ran towards each other in panda slow motion, they each knew that the love of their panda lives was before them, and they each felt joy to be alive and gay at this moment.
Pandas, it turns out, are the smartest animals in the world. Smarter than dolphins. Because they have learned how to avoid reproduction in captivity, while teaching each other the blessed gift of sex without pregnancy.
The zoo lights grew dimmer, as the stars shined down upon our two sets of lovers, reveling in the day's triumph.
But Nancy and Addidas didn't have much time to enjoy each other. For the time of sushi happy hour was almost upon them.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Diffuser Module in Action.
Nancy and Addidas bent over the dying panda. As they leaned over the panda, the bear gazed at the ILSM's perfectly round breasts, aligning to create perfectly shadowed cleavage. The panda wanted to reach her paw between Nancy's breasts, but she knew that Nancy needed to focus on the diffuser module. This was the first time the panda had ever seen ILSMs and she was fascinated by their pure beauty and ability to operate heavy machinery. Everyone at the zoo, including Billi, had always assumed the panda was a male because she was constantly flirting with the other female pandas. Lack of procreation was, they initially thought, only because pandas cannot procreate in captivity. Gay pandas were lucky in this regard. No one expected procreation and zookeepers like Billi always expected heterosexuality, so lady-on-lady panda love could be discrete.
Suddenly, the panda felt Nancy's hand on her chest: "I've got the diffuser module simulated into left fuse center. What now?"
"Cross the red timing device with the integrated circuit drive," Addidas commanded.
"Oh, Addidas, I'm so frightened,"
"I'm here for you. I love you. After this, we'll take a road trip to Milwaukee on your motocycle. Now, go get 'em tiger. I believe in you. Fuse that directing system into the green go wire. You got it, sexpot."
Suddenly, extremely tense music played over the zoo's loudspeakers. Nancy and Addidas' once pulsating bosoms stopped heaving in anticipation of firey panda death.
......
Then, the two, in unison, shouted: "It worked!"
Suddenly, the panda felt Nancy's hand on her chest: "I've got the diffuser module simulated into left fuse center. What now?"
"Cross the red timing device with the integrated circuit drive," Addidas commanded.
"Oh, Addidas, I'm so frightened,"
"I'm here for you. I love you. After this, we'll take a road trip to Milwaukee on your motocycle. Now, go get 'em tiger. I believe in you. Fuse that directing system into the green go wire. You got it, sexpot."
Suddenly, extremely tense music played over the zoo's loudspeakers. Nancy and Addidas' once pulsating bosoms stopped heaving in anticipation of firey panda death.
......
Then, the two, in unison, shouted: "It worked!"
slow motion running - again.
The women sprinted back towards the panda, the diffuser module secured tightly in Addidas' taunt, rippling, naked ballerina arms. Although in real time they reached the panda in only about 30 seconds, it took approx. 4 minutes in ILSM time for Addidas and Nancy to run slow-motion to the panda cage. Over and over again, very very slowly, they lifted themselves into the air, stunning eyes focused dead-ahead in dedication and fierce persistance, feet poised in medias res above the ground, indicating foward motion with every chisled and suspended muscle in their divine bodies. Their buttcheeks never wobbled - they were too firm and golden. Their perfect olympic running form never falted, and they never broke a sweat. Sweat was so last year. Their hair occasionally blew into their faces, but only in an elegant, crumpled way that served to highlight their sharp features and gleaming eyes. But most importantly, most beautifully, were the breasts. Breasts are why ILSMs must always run in slow motion, as any CJ fan can tell you. Although both women are size negative twelve, childlike in their boney speldor, they manage to have flawless, sculpted, bouncing, ever-round breasts, breasts that remain suspended slightly longer than the rest of them as their feet pound the pavement ever so gracefully. Their gleaming, evenly tanned bodies were taunt with muscle as they ran - but not their breasts. Shapely and round, their breasts defied gravity as their slow-motion running defied time.
And then, they reached the panda cage. Gasping orgasmically, their chests heaving, the two women clutched at the fence in bikini-wearing spendor. Billi, who had gotten there 3 minutes and 30 seconds earlier, had opened the panda gate.
And then, they reached the panda cage. Gasping orgasmically, their chests heaving, the two women clutched at the fence in bikini-wearing spendor. Billi, who had gotten there 3 minutes and 30 seconds earlier, had opened the panda gate.
At the bikini store.
Addidas and Nancy entered the bikini store. Though there was a panda to save and a diffuser module to find, Nancy remembered that once, an ISLM wearing a baggy, hobo-chic Chanel dress, was killed by a diffuser module when her dress was caught in the module's rotating gears.
"Addidas, we must be careful," Nancy said. "We should have as few clothes on as possible when we save the panda with the diffuser module."
Addidas agreed: "You're right. My sexy, Prada rainpants might get stuck in the diffuser module's rotating gears."
Addidas shed her clothes in the middle of the bikini store. A Burberry jacket set was thrown to the ground and rainpants sat at Addida's ankles. As Nancy watched, her hotcake was once again triggered by an unknown, but welcome excitement. Nancy followed suit, shedding her clothes, hoping Addidas' gaze would meet Nancy's perfectly succulent breasts. It did. The two found themselves captivated by each other's beauty. As ILSMs, Nancy and Addidas were used to always being the single most attractive person in any room, but here, in a bikini store, the two were both perfect. As they stared at each other, Addidas kicked the rainpants from her ankles and slowly began to walk toward Nancy. Addidas was confident, sure of herself and of her appeal. As Addidas approached, Nancy began to feel unsure of herself. Was she truly beautiful enough for Addidas?
Suddenly, Billi burst into the store in a blind panic: "Addidas, Nancy! The panda is getting worse, we need to get the bomb out of him." Billi's eyes focused and she saw Addidas and Nancy standing naked in the room, a mere two steps away from each other. "Two steps," Nancy thought. "Just two more steps." Billi could feel the sexual tension between Nancy and Addidas. Billi's own fascination with Addidas' perfect body was empowering. Billi no longer felt the ability to rationalize or to consider Jesus' plan. Billi, wearing khaki cargo pants, hiking boots, and a drab teal cotton polo shirt, threw her arms around Addidas, kissing her neck and stroking her chin-length hair. Addidas was disgusted by the zoo smell that permeated Billi's polo. Addidas pushed Billi away and quickly put on the nearest bikini: a black g-string bikini with a single-knotted bow securing the top. Nancy followed suit, wearing a sexy red one-piece like CJ wore on Baywatch. Nancy always wished she could be like CJ.
Nancy grabbed the diffuser module and the three women left the store.
"Addidas, we must be careful," Nancy said. "We should have as few clothes on as possible when we save the panda with the diffuser module."
Addidas agreed: "You're right. My sexy, Prada rainpants might get stuck in the diffuser module's rotating gears."
Addidas shed her clothes in the middle of the bikini store. A Burberry jacket set was thrown to the ground and rainpants sat at Addida's ankles. As Nancy watched, her hotcake was once again triggered by an unknown, but welcome excitement. Nancy followed suit, shedding her clothes, hoping Addidas' gaze would meet Nancy's perfectly succulent breasts. It did. The two found themselves captivated by each other's beauty. As ILSMs, Nancy and Addidas were used to always being the single most attractive person in any room, but here, in a bikini store, the two were both perfect. As they stared at each other, Addidas kicked the rainpants from her ankles and slowly began to walk toward Nancy. Addidas was confident, sure of herself and of her appeal. As Addidas approached, Nancy began to feel unsure of herself. Was she truly beautiful enough for Addidas?
Suddenly, Billi burst into the store in a blind panic: "Addidas, Nancy! The panda is getting worse, we need to get the bomb out of him." Billi's eyes focused and she saw Addidas and Nancy standing naked in the room, a mere two steps away from each other. "Two steps," Nancy thought. "Just two more steps." Billi could feel the sexual tension between Nancy and Addidas. Billi's own fascination with Addidas' perfect body was empowering. Billi no longer felt the ability to rationalize or to consider Jesus' plan. Billi, wearing khaki cargo pants, hiking boots, and a drab teal cotton polo shirt, threw her arms around Addidas, kissing her neck and stroking her chin-length hair. Addidas was disgusted by the zoo smell that permeated Billi's polo. Addidas pushed Billi away and quickly put on the nearest bikini: a black g-string bikini with a single-knotted bow securing the top. Nancy followed suit, wearing a sexy red one-piece like CJ wore on Baywatch. Nancy always wished she could be like CJ.
Nancy grabbed the diffuser module and the three women left the store.
But, what about the diffuser module?
Instinctively, Nancy threw herself upon the chain link fence, her long leather-clad legs straining as she hoisted herself closer and closer to bomb-riddled panda. "Wait!" Addidas called out. She grabbed Nancy's emaciated ankle. Nancy felt electricity course through her blood, up her legs, into her hotcake, at Addidas' touch. "The diffuser module!"
Addidas was right. They had to find the diffuser module. It was a basic panda-bomb tool, and she had forgotten it.
"There's one in the Bikini shop," Billi said. That way.
There was no time to lose. Addidas and Nancy ran, ran towards the bikini shop, their long arms pumping, their hair flowing like in a Mariah Carey video, their sinuous legs stretching gazelle-like across the pavement. Every time they ran, it was as if the world slowed down, as if time and gravity came together to assist their flawless breasts bounce up and down, up and down, up and down, slowly, as they ran.
When the reached the bikini shop, Nancy pounced. Her slow-moton sprint had given her all the power she needed to seamlessly soar into an airborne pivot, her right leg rising up, up - until her sexy crime fighting boot collided with the glass bikini shop door. The glass shattered, also in slow motion, as beautiful shimmering glass fell down upon them. Nancy landed, puma-like, amid the shower of glass.
"It's time for a little bikini shopping," she growled.
Addidas was right. They had to find the diffuser module. It was a basic panda-bomb tool, and she had forgotten it.
"There's one in the Bikini shop," Billi said. That way.
There was no time to lose. Addidas and Nancy ran, ran towards the bikini shop, their long arms pumping, their hair flowing like in a Mariah Carey video, their sinuous legs stretching gazelle-like across the pavement. Every time they ran, it was as if the world slowed down, as if time and gravity came together to assist their flawless breasts bounce up and down, up and down, up and down, slowly, as they ran.
When the reached the bikini shop, Nancy pounced. Her slow-moton sprint had given her all the power she needed to seamlessly soar into an airborne pivot, her right leg rising up, up - until her sexy crime fighting boot collided with the glass bikini shop door. The glass shattered, also in slow motion, as beautiful shimmering glass fell down upon them. Nancy landed, puma-like, amid the shower of glass.
"It's time for a little bikini shopping," she growled.
The zoo
Addidas and Nancy arrived at the zoo. It was late. The animals were asleep, but Addidas and Nancy knew that at least one animal was still awake: the panda, in distress. The zookeeper, a young Christian girl from Iowa who loved her mother and her father, ran out to greet the ILSMs. Billi, who did not believe in homosexuality, felt a strange desire to throw her arms around Addidas and ask her to take her for a ride on her motorcycle. But she didn't.
"Addidas, thank the heavens you are back. The dolphins are so grateful for the rainpants you provided them with this morning." Addidas said nothing. "We zookeeprs had never thought of how terrible it must be for a dolphin to be constantly submerged under water. We always assumed it was in Jesus' plan. But, Jesus is not spiteful. Not toward dolphins. Jesus did not intend for dolphins to be wet, all of the time." Nancy laughed. Billi did not understand why.
Addidas scoffed. "Billi, this is no time to be talking about dolphins or rainpants. There is a panda in distress."
"My bad," said Billi, in an unconvincing attempt to seem cool. She turned and grimaced as she led Addidas to the Panda cage. Nancy followed closely behind, and she could not help but notice how Addidas's bottom would bounce like a couple of hams. If Addidas had any butt cheeks.
They reached the Panda cage. Inside, the Panda was pacing back and forth, until it noticed the three ladies. Suddenly, it charged the cage, growning in the most pitiful manner. "We can't figure out what's wrong with him!!" said Billi. Nancy approached the cage, "well, it could be some kind of hormonal dis . . ." Suddenly, Addidas silenced the room with one gesture. She pulled out a cocaine and vodka laced cigarette and passed it to the Panda. With a look of utter relief, the Panda grasped the cigarette and lit up, immediately collapsing and letting out an orgasmic sigh.
Suddenly, Nancy realized the Panda's dilemma. It was obvious.. the answer, right there in front of them like a ticking time bomb. That's because it was, in fact, a ticking time bomb. "There's a bomb in the panda," she shouted.
"Addidas, thank the heavens you are back. The dolphins are so grateful for the rainpants you provided them with this morning." Addidas said nothing. "We zookeeprs had never thought of how terrible it must be for a dolphin to be constantly submerged under water. We always assumed it was in Jesus' plan. But, Jesus is not spiteful. Not toward dolphins. Jesus did not intend for dolphins to be wet, all of the time." Nancy laughed. Billi did not understand why.
Addidas scoffed. "Billi, this is no time to be talking about dolphins or rainpants. There is a panda in distress."
"My bad," said Billi, in an unconvincing attempt to seem cool. She turned and grimaced as she led Addidas to the Panda cage. Nancy followed closely behind, and she could not help but notice how Addidas's bottom would bounce like a couple of hams. If Addidas had any butt cheeks.
They reached the Panda cage. Inside, the Panda was pacing back and forth, until it noticed the three ladies. Suddenly, it charged the cage, growning in the most pitiful manner. "We can't figure out what's wrong with him!!" said Billi. Nancy approached the cage, "well, it could be some kind of hormonal dis . . ." Suddenly, Addidas silenced the room with one gesture. She pulled out a cocaine and vodka laced cigarette and passed it to the Panda. With a look of utter relief, the Panda grasped the cigarette and lit up, immediately collapsing and letting out an orgasmic sigh.
Suddenly, Nancy realized the Panda's dilemma. It was obvious.. the answer, right there in front of them like a ticking time bomb. That's because it was, in fact, a ticking time bomb. "There's a bomb in the panda," she shouted.
The goddess, Addidas
Nancy had never felt so alive as she raced through the pedestrian mall, or maybe that was the cocaine. Either way, she felt the urgency of the situation rushing through her body like, well, cocaine. "I must save that panda!" she screamed as she rode on, drawing bewildered gazes from tourists in tacky t-shirts. "What a strange young lady," they said amongst themselves. If only they knew.
Nancy's bike was doing 90 miles an hour when, all of the sudden, a figure in a dark trench coat stepped in front of her path, about 80 feet in front of her. She swerved to miss it and lost control of her bike. While the crash was horrific, it had a certain sexy quality to it.
Strangely, Nancy's clothes were ripped only in attractive and suggestive places after the motorcycle crash. Dirt on her face only made her cheekbones look more dangerous. More dangerously sculpted. Like her breasts. "Luckily, I haven't eaten in 6 days, and my bones bounce like rubber," she thought. "Sometimes, it's good to be an ISLM." Nancy spun to face her attacker. The hooded figure loomed before her. The hood looked like Burberry, 2005. "Is that Burberry?: Nancy asked.
the Figure swished towards Nancy. "Collection deux-mille-cinque," it replied. The figure's voice was husky, like she had smoked a few packs of cocaine-laced cigarettes that hour. She had.
Nancy tossed her shiny yet slightly tossled motorcycle hair. "Nancy Drew," she held out her hand. "I know." the figure replied. "They call me, 'Addidas.'"
The Burberry 2005 hooded trench collection ensemble blew aside in the putrid wind of the city street. Underneath, Nancy glimpsed shining purple rainpants.
Nancy gasped.
Could this really be her? The one they call Addidas? The most famous International Lesbian Supermodel in the world?
Looking into Addidas' glowing yet hollow face with excellent mascara and line use, Nancy knew she was going to need another cigarette. Soon. But she held it together: that's what ILSMS do. That, and hotcakes.
"Please, help me," Nancy asked. "The panda is in danger."
Addidas' hooded trench collection piece billowed in the reeking air. The streetlamp illuminated only her perfectly highlighted semi-bob and arched nose
"follow me, young Nancy." the voice replied, "I know a shortcut to the zoo."
Addidas jumped on Nancy's motorcycle and Nancy, filled with a strange feeling of anxiety and anticipation, climbed on behind her. Nancy's arms clutched Addidas by the side. As they sped through the city, Nancy rested her head on Addidas' shoulder, smelling Addidas' hair. The smell of nicotine and smoked cocaine reminded Nancy of the time she spent with her grandfather in front of the fireplace. She felt at home. Nancy spent the ride thinking about Addidas' name, remembering that she spelled it with an extra "d." Even though Adidas was a German-based company, these international lesbians were too international for Adidas. Nancy remembered hearing the story of the day Addidas added another "d" to her name to symbolize internationalism and also to tribute their favorite pasttime: drugs.
Drugs - and Danger. Danger was Addidas' middle name.
Nancy's bike was doing 90 miles an hour when, all of the sudden, a figure in a dark trench coat stepped in front of her path, about 80 feet in front of her. She swerved to miss it and lost control of her bike. While the crash was horrific, it had a certain sexy quality to it.
Strangely, Nancy's clothes were ripped only in attractive and suggestive places after the motorcycle crash. Dirt on her face only made her cheekbones look more dangerous. More dangerously sculpted. Like her breasts. "Luckily, I haven't eaten in 6 days, and my bones bounce like rubber," she thought. "Sometimes, it's good to be an ISLM." Nancy spun to face her attacker. The hooded figure loomed before her. The hood looked like Burberry, 2005. "Is that Burberry?: Nancy asked.
the Figure swished towards Nancy. "Collection deux-mille-cinque," it replied. The figure's voice was husky, like she had smoked a few packs of cocaine-laced cigarettes that hour. She had.
Nancy tossed her shiny yet slightly tossled motorcycle hair. "Nancy Drew," she held out her hand. "I know." the figure replied. "They call me, 'Addidas.'"
The Burberry 2005 hooded trench collection ensemble blew aside in the putrid wind of the city street. Underneath, Nancy glimpsed shining purple rainpants.
Nancy gasped.
Could this really be her? The one they call Addidas? The most famous International Lesbian Supermodel in the world?
Looking into Addidas' glowing yet hollow face with excellent mascara and line use, Nancy knew she was going to need another cigarette. Soon. But she held it together: that's what ILSMS do. That, and hotcakes.
"Please, help me," Nancy asked. "The panda is in danger."
Addidas' hooded trench collection piece billowed in the reeking air. The streetlamp illuminated only her perfectly highlighted semi-bob and arched nose
"follow me, young Nancy." the voice replied, "I know a shortcut to the zoo."
Addidas jumped on Nancy's motorcycle and Nancy, filled with a strange feeling of anxiety and anticipation, climbed on behind her. Nancy's arms clutched Addidas by the side. As they sped through the city, Nancy rested her head on Addidas' shoulder, smelling Addidas' hair. The smell of nicotine and smoked cocaine reminded Nancy of the time she spent with her grandfather in front of the fireplace. She felt at home. Nancy spent the ride thinking about Addidas' name, remembering that she spelled it with an extra "d." Even though Adidas was a German-based company, these international lesbians were too international for Adidas. Nancy remembered hearing the story of the day Addidas added another "d" to her name to symbolize internationalism and also to tribute their favorite pasttime: drugs.
Drugs - and Danger. Danger was Addidas' middle name.
The ferris wheel, part 2
From her vantage point atop Ned's pleasure wheel of death, Nancy spied a distant sparkle. It was gliding slowly across the distant skyline, like a buffalo wing cart at last call. Nancy's excitement boiled as her first mystery began unraveling before her. The sweat glistened on her perfectly sculpted bust, she wondered why Ned's smile had recently become so malicious. It was becoming increasingly apparent that Ned was not going to turn the wheel. "Think, Nancy, think!" she thought. "I've got it! I'll use my ILSM super-seduction powers to place Ned under my spell! He will have no choice but to do my bidding. I only hope I can remember all my training . . . " she thought, as she sucked in her checks and placed her index finger on her lips.
The distant sparkle gliding slowly across the distant skyline reminded Nancy all too much of a buffalo wing cart at last call. Before becoming a ILSM, Nancy devoured buffalo wings, cigarettes, cheap beer, cheese curds, and free popcorn. For a brief moment, Nancy realized that, while Ned had given up his legal career, their breakup meant loss for Nancy, as well. Buffalo wings had been replaced by cocaine and cigarettes were replaced by cocaine-laced cigarettes. Popcorn, cheap beer, and cheese curds were, like Ned's dreams of sleeping with pancake chefs, simply memories of a life once lived as a mere average woman with adequate breasts. Now, her breasts were perfectly sculpted, but at what expense? Before she could continue to consider the consequences of the sacrifices she had made, she finished her cocaine and followed it with a drag from Ned's flask. She could feel the cocaine and vodka enter her bloodstream. She was happy.
"No time for sentimentality now." Her tolerance for pain and her stamina at their peak, Nancy performed the recondite "Black Mamba," a move so seductive and enticing that it cannot be publicly described in full detail. Suffice to say, she was upside down for a while and exposed one of her dirty pillows. Ned's expression changed from one of hatred and contempt to one of boyish wonderment. Within minutes, however, Ned was twitching and foaming at the mouth. Nancy had applied the move to hard, something every experienced ILSM knows to avoid at all cost. Ned could develop serious brain damage, but what was worse (considering that Ned's brain had already been severely damaged by pointless, redundant, and contradictory PR studies), Ned would be unable to rotate the wheel. "No choice now but to strut down." Fueled by alcohol, cocaine, and nicotine, Nancy climbed on the first girder and, with hand on hip, began walking down in superb super model form, defying all rules of gravity.
When she safely made it to the pavement below, Nancy realized that the consequences of nicotine, cocaine, and vodka, which she had recently feared were destroying her life, were actually the exact stimulants required to make such a brave and sexy stroll down the side of the ferris wheel. Those who have perished on the ferris wheel in the past, Nancy realized, had simply not been privy to the stimulant mixture that she would soon market as NCV. Nancy only had three and a half hours before sushi, but there was no time for rest or pre-sushi primping: she had a panda to save, and NCV to market. Nancy checked Ned's pulse. Finding a weak, but stable pulse, Nancy was unsure about what she had hoped: did she wish Ned had died from the Black Mamba? She did not know. What she did know was that she needed to check on her ILSMs at the zoo. There was a panda in distress. Nancy patted the rain-worn cushion residue from her leather coat and hopped on her motorcycle.
The distant sparkle gliding slowly across the distant skyline reminded Nancy all too much of a buffalo wing cart at last call. Before becoming a ILSM, Nancy devoured buffalo wings, cigarettes, cheap beer, cheese curds, and free popcorn. For a brief moment, Nancy realized that, while Ned had given up his legal career, their breakup meant loss for Nancy, as well. Buffalo wings had been replaced by cocaine and cigarettes were replaced by cocaine-laced cigarettes. Popcorn, cheap beer, and cheese curds were, like Ned's dreams of sleeping with pancake chefs, simply memories of a life once lived as a mere average woman with adequate breasts. Now, her breasts were perfectly sculpted, but at what expense? Before she could continue to consider the consequences of the sacrifices she had made, she finished her cocaine and followed it with a drag from Ned's flask. She could feel the cocaine and vodka enter her bloodstream. She was happy.
"No time for sentimentality now." Her tolerance for pain and her stamina at their peak, Nancy performed the recondite "Black Mamba," a move so seductive and enticing that it cannot be publicly described in full detail. Suffice to say, she was upside down for a while and exposed one of her dirty pillows. Ned's expression changed from one of hatred and contempt to one of boyish wonderment. Within minutes, however, Ned was twitching and foaming at the mouth. Nancy had applied the move to hard, something every experienced ILSM knows to avoid at all cost. Ned could develop serious brain damage, but what was worse (considering that Ned's brain had already been severely damaged by pointless, redundant, and contradictory PR studies), Ned would be unable to rotate the wheel. "No choice now but to strut down." Fueled by alcohol, cocaine, and nicotine, Nancy climbed on the first girder and, with hand on hip, began walking down in superb super model form, defying all rules of gravity.
When she safely made it to the pavement below, Nancy realized that the consequences of nicotine, cocaine, and vodka, which she had recently feared were destroying her life, were actually the exact stimulants required to make such a brave and sexy stroll down the side of the ferris wheel. Those who have perished on the ferris wheel in the past, Nancy realized, had simply not been privy to the stimulant mixture that she would soon market as NCV. Nancy only had three and a half hours before sushi, but there was no time for rest or pre-sushi primping: she had a panda to save, and NCV to market. Nancy checked Ned's pulse. Finding a weak, but stable pulse, Nancy was unsure about what she had hoped: did she wish Ned had died from the Black Mamba? She did not know. What she did know was that she needed to check on her ILSMs at the zoo. There was a panda in distress. Nancy patted the rain-worn cushion residue from her leather coat and hopped on her motorcycle.
The ferris wheel, part 1
Nancy sped across the city on her motorcycle, her leather jacket protecting her from the city's thick smoke and dirt, elements that proved the city's evils and corruption. Nancy drove to the most dangerous place she knew, the place where some don't make it out alive, where all her mysteries are contemplated and where many are solved: The ferris wheel. Nancy was surprised to see Ned. This once promising young lawyer and Nancy's first love, was now the operator of the ferris wheel, his clothes smelled of vodka from a plastic bottle and he smiled a smile she had never seen while they dated, one no law student has ever smiled.
Ned's smile confirmed Nancy's fears, the fears Ned's parents threatened when Nancy told them she was going to break Ned's heart: Nancy realized she had forever broken Ned's legal aspirations... his hopes and dreams of never smiling, drinking $40 martinis in an irresponsible excess, someday owning a Bentley, and sleeping with his pancake chefs were now just a distant memory of a life once lived. Once destroyed. For a brief moment, Nancy thought of taking Ned back, of leaving the world of sushi, leather, and sexy crime-solving boots.
But then she remembered: she had work to do. It's tough to be a gritty crime-fighting all-American detective girl - it's a job that never stops. She grimly nodded at Ned, reached behind his grubby jacket, and pulled a flask out of his back Levis pocket. "I'll take this one for the ride, babe," she said, leaving a clean Benjamin in the flask's place. She spun open the top of the flask and took a drag. Then she climbed up into the ferris wheel basket. The ferris wheel: rife with danger, reeking swinging basket death. But she had to do it. It was the only vantage point from which she could watch those ILSMS rescue a panda in the zoo far, far below.
Nancy's leather jacket stuck to the basket chair's rain-worn cushion; the ferris wheel's mechanism, which hadn't been properly maintained in years, creaked with every strained attempt to keep the baskets in the air; and, because Ned now hated Nancy and blamed her for his failed legal career, he stopped the ride as Nancy's basket reached the top of the wheel, the place where at least four patrons have died. Nancy, a true ILSM, confidently believed Ned's decision to stop the wheel was because he still loved her, he wanted to peek up her skirt from below, and he wanted to give her the only gift he, a mere ferris wheel operator, could still provide: more time at the top. 100 feet above the pavement, Nancy looked out over the city and contemplated today's mystery.
"There is a panda in distress," she thought, "and I must eat sushi in 5 and a half hours. Is there time to save the panda?" 100 feet above the ground, in a basket that could plummet to the ground at any moment, Nancy doubted herself. She doubted her ability to properly maintain her body in such a sexy way, while still making time for pandas and sushi. She had so many responsibilities. Too many. Nancy contemplated jumping from her rickety basket, ending it all, leaving the panda's fate and spicy salmon rolls to someone else, but then she remembered something that made her life worth living: she still had cocaine.
Ned's smile confirmed Nancy's fears, the fears Ned's parents threatened when Nancy told them she was going to break Ned's heart: Nancy realized she had forever broken Ned's legal aspirations... his hopes and dreams of never smiling, drinking $40 martinis in an irresponsible excess, someday owning a Bentley, and sleeping with his pancake chefs were now just a distant memory of a life once lived. Once destroyed. For a brief moment, Nancy thought of taking Ned back, of leaving the world of sushi, leather, and sexy crime-solving boots.
But then she remembered: she had work to do. It's tough to be a gritty crime-fighting all-American detective girl - it's a job that never stops. She grimly nodded at Ned, reached behind his grubby jacket, and pulled a flask out of his back Levis pocket. "I'll take this one for the ride, babe," she said, leaving a clean Benjamin in the flask's place. She spun open the top of the flask and took a drag. Then she climbed up into the ferris wheel basket. The ferris wheel: rife with danger, reeking swinging basket death. But she had to do it. It was the only vantage point from which she could watch those ILSMS rescue a panda in the zoo far, far below.
Nancy's leather jacket stuck to the basket chair's rain-worn cushion; the ferris wheel's mechanism, which hadn't been properly maintained in years, creaked with every strained attempt to keep the baskets in the air; and, because Ned now hated Nancy and blamed her for his failed legal career, he stopped the ride as Nancy's basket reached the top of the wheel, the place where at least four patrons have died. Nancy, a true ILSM, confidently believed Ned's decision to stop the wheel was because he still loved her, he wanted to peek up her skirt from below, and he wanted to give her the only gift he, a mere ferris wheel operator, could still provide: more time at the top. 100 feet above the pavement, Nancy looked out over the city and contemplated today's mystery.
"There is a panda in distress," she thought, "and I must eat sushi in 5 and a half hours. Is there time to save the panda?" 100 feet above the ground, in a basket that could plummet to the ground at any moment, Nancy doubted herself. She doubted her ability to properly maintain her body in such a sexy way, while still making time for pandas and sushi. She had so many responsibilities. Too many. Nancy contemplated jumping from her rickety basket, ending it all, leaving the panda's fate and spicy salmon rolls to someone else, but then she remembered something that made her life worth living: she still had cocaine.
The beginning.
Nancy became an ILSM after she realized Ned Nickerson never would never solve the case of the curious sushi. To Nancy, Ned would always be adequate, but nothing like the perfection she recognized when watching ILSMs run. "Run, ILSMs, run," she thought, as she drank her gin and tonic and watched, through dark sunglasses, from the window above.
As she stared at the ILSMs in their medieval warrior suits, hair braided, bows and arrows against their shoulders, hand-rolled cigarettes against their hip, they suddenly transformed into modern-day ILSMs, their bodies covered by only the very thin spandex of their red bathing suits and nicotine was now replaced by cocaine: the drug of the gods. Suddenly, Nancy needed a cigarette.
Nancy needed a cigarette almost as urgently as that time when she watched Alisha stand up in TORT. almost.
Upon memory of Alisha Sedor standing up in TORT, Nancy chain smoked, but with the satisfaction that she was right when she dumped Ned and chased the dream of becoming an ILSM. "Only 8 hours until the mystery of sushi happy hour is solved," Nancy thought while lacing her next cigarette with cocaine and pulling on her sexy detective boots.
quickly, Nancy pulled out her camo-themed iPhone to double check her evening plans:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nyotaimori
"That heel-clicking ILSM is going to go great with some sashimi," she thought, then grabbed her motorcycle helmet and strode down the stairs.
As she stared at the ILSMs in their medieval warrior suits, hair braided, bows and arrows against their shoulders, hand-rolled cigarettes against their hip, they suddenly transformed into modern-day ILSMs, their bodies covered by only the very thin spandex of their red bathing suits and nicotine was now replaced by cocaine: the drug of the gods. Suddenly, Nancy needed a cigarette.
Nancy needed a cigarette almost as urgently as that time when she watched Alisha stand up in TORT. almost.
Upon memory of Alisha Sedor standing up in TORT, Nancy chain smoked, but with the satisfaction that she was right when she dumped Ned and chased the dream of becoming an ILSM. "Only 8 hours until the mystery of sushi happy hour is solved," Nancy thought while lacing her next cigarette with cocaine and pulling on her sexy detective boots.
quickly, Nancy pulled out her camo-themed iPhone to double check her evening plans:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nyotaimori
"That heel-clicking ILSM is going to go great with some sashimi," she thought, then grabbed her motorcycle helmet and strode down the stairs.
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