His viewing is at 11:00, 1:30, 3:00, 5:00, 7:00, and 9:00
Your Royal Harness.
I suggested to him that we stirrup some trouble. He wasn’t sure she could anvil it.
They crept in. It was pitch black and stone quiet. They were suddenly starting to regret this dare. Stupidly, only one brought a flash light. The aggressive darkness and inky black yielded with grudging compliance but always seeming to push back. They moved cautiously onward amid the dust and cobwebs. The floor creaked. They breathed in tight, quick breaths. You could hear a pin drop.
Suddenly, there was a deep moan. "OOOOOOOOUUUUU". It seemed from below them. The house had been abandoned for years. Who or what could make such a sound? The boys looked at each other, but continued on, hearts pounding in their chests.
As they proceeded into the kitchen they encountered a swarm of flies. Buzzing and beating their necks and faces, they rushed and stumbled to the door, not stopping to see what they were truly feasting on. They slammed the door behind them. Maybe a body? But no way were they going back to find out. And again came the sound, "ooooOOOOOooooOOUUU" but louder this time, and closer.
They proceeded through the dark into the dining room. They saw a fully set dining table covered in cob webs. Dust-covered regal-looking glasses, goblets and silverware adorned the table. Spiders climbed on ivory plates. Clearly a house of privilege and set for a grand feast which never happened.
Or, perhaps, met a fatal end?
They pushed on. But again that unearthly howl.
"oooooOOOOOOOOOOOUuuuuUUUUuuUUOOOOooo".
They found the basement staircase, and from below, the sounds seemed to be emanating. Could they proceed? Would they? Did they dare? Two of the boys looked at each other, faces filled with worry.
But the third said, confidently, "We're going down there." Not wanting to seem the weaker, the other two boys steeled themselves and nodded.
The stairs creaked and groaned evily under their feet. The rickety banister shook in angry defiance. Insects and vermin scattered underneath them with every step. They were descending into hell, they knew, but none would turn back.
And the sound: "oOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUuuuuUUOOOO". Now loud enough to fill not only their heads but seeming to claw at their very souls!
Now at the basement door! The antique, crying squeak of the hinges eeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEee made the boys wince and almost cover their ears. But they had to know. WHAT is making that horrible, terrible sound?
"ooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUoooooUUUUUUUOOOOOOO"
In the center of the basement lay an unholy coffin! A twisted artistic expression of murder, decay and
... keep reading on reddit ➡Barely regal
drumroll
Until my 3 year old told me that I could no longer be a princess. I asked her why and she said she was taking it back. I said she can't take my title of Princess. She took it anyway.
I told her I was going to seek Regal Counsel.
Allow me to regale you with a couple tales illustrating my late dad's sense of humor. Last names faked because I'm not that stupid.
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(1). At a routine PTA meeting about me in my Georgia school, everyone found themselves packed into a hot and stuffy room waiting for the boredom to end. Shoulder to shoulder fun, can you picture it?
My dad lets one rip. It's loud, smelly, and echoes. The room falls silent as the fart invites itself unfavorably to the nostrils of those in attendance.
He turns to my mom and with his best shocked face says, "... Patty!"
I like to think he slept on the couch that night.
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(2). During my old man's wait for us to arrive at the new home he had bought, he had to deal with ongoing construction and roughed it at a hotel for a few nights. He was a retired Master Chief Machinist's Mate, so cramped quarters reminded him of the sub's nuclear engine room. No biggie.
An interview comes up for a civilian nuclear power plant nearby, and before you know it my dad's sitting before these stuffy, serious, wrinkly old board members and managers, having his (mostly military) resume picked through.
"Well Mister Smith, we're impressed. Twenty two years is no small amount of time to dedicate to the service. But do you feel you're qualified to operate and audit a civilian fission power plant?"
My dad thinks on it for a second.
"Well no, sir, but I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night."
He got the job immediately.
(For those needing the reference)
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Thanks for caring to read. I miss him a lot and this subreddit always reminds me of his sense of dry, quick humor. Take care!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1xX2LYyaaaU
Michael explores the agony of the zoo and talks about the regal and elegant Cheetah...
