From Imperial Dictionary:
Lunapark – place where lunatics or otherly deranged individuals are being kept inprisoned.
the Old and the Familiar – a way of refering to Ruinous Powers intended on shielding innocent audience, for example when a parent is trying to explain some of its workings to a child.
Storyteller – Missing entry.
Life of a storyteller is long, and full of surprises, though with time he in his neglect forgets to revisit the Old and the Familiar. If he is capable of it, then what is he afraid of? As it happens the Old and the Familiar has its own way of reinserting itself into the Story. That is how the storyteller received an invitation to a Lunapark, where his UC official resided, though he is not aware yet that it is the Old and the Familiar, fully rebranded, under new and catchy name. He intends to go there on a day specified on the invitation and ask them them to cancel it, so nobody’s time gets wasted. If he only knew what he is about to face, he wouldn’t be so cocksure full of bravado. But being unawares as he is makes him vulnerable, oblivious to the fact that his plan is slowly bit by bit becoming put of the track so it actually never gets a chance to happen. That is how the story begin…
After many cold and rainy days, the weather suddenly had a turn for the better, as if to make the trip as pleasant and uneventful as storyteller planned it to be. While in fact it was a carefully woven deception intended to put his Sense of Danger at ease, to lull it down, and it worked out perfectly. As he took his first step in trying to dodge around a peculiar old guy turning back and forth in the entrance as if looking for something he thought he dropped he was still unaware it was his first step of the track, against the plan. As it turned before he finished his first step the old guy was not just some random old guy looking peculiar, he was an official working in The Lunapark, giving the impression of a security enforcer or a door waiter during the initial conversation that went along those lines:
(OG): No. Stop. Wait. Do you have a mask?
(ST): (surprised) No, I don’t.
(OG): You need a mask. Wait. (He runs in, coming back out in a second carrying a mask and handing it to ST) You must wear it at all times while inside
(ST): (confused) Ok.
He puts it on with a resigned sigh to avoid antagonising people working inside that glorious place right away, He suspects it tough that it might be unavoidable anyway. He starts walking in, but before he even crosses the threshold that was clearly marked as The Entrance, he finds The Old Guy once again right in front of him. Storyteller gives a quick look behind him to check if it is a double, speculates he might be halucynating and discards that possibility as well, in less than a second decids it must be the same Old Guy, ‘’how odd, how did he get there so fast?’’. Nevermind. He tries to continue on and once again is stopped by the Old Guy.
(OG): What’s the reason?
(ST): I have an appointment.
(OG): Name, please.
Suddently he is holding a board with a list, looking more like a clerk than a security enforcer or a door waiter.
(ST): Storyteller Himself
By than The Storyteller finally crosses the threshold and finds himself inside, able to see The Inside in its full glory, masterfully arranged around The Walking Path leading to the Next Door. There is three more security standing by the wall a bit to his left. Five table on the left side of the Walking Path, turning serpentine towards The Next Door, and five on the right side, four of each fully manned or womanned, it is hard to tell which by the looks. But do not be mistaken they are not there to be whale-ing on the beach, they are prime specimen, ready and raring to serve, holding a mug of coffee or tea each, sprawled in their armchairs, having a regular workplace chit chat when it is not busy, not that it ever gets busy, but let’s not be too prudent about the meanings, after all it is better to avoid antagonising everyone before the matter is sorted out. Everything is clearly and visibly marked to indicate if it is where it should be, including marks on the carpet, where the other three security were standing. All that captured in the time between two blinks, after all The Old Guy would not leave you unattended for much longer. How could he? Being such a gracious and helpful host. Storyteller swallows knowing well that the next question is about to be birthed, such a miracle, a new verse coming out of the mouth of his all and mighty himself The Old Guy. But let’s not spoil alert about him actualy running the place, he is just a regular old guy standing by The Entrance or so it seemed at first glance, and so it looks like to every passerby unaware of the Power of the Old and the Familiar. Here it comes:
(OG): You’re not on a list. What was your name again?
(ST): (Repeats with exactly similar intonation, it is better to avoid antagonising them, right?) Storyteller Himself.
It is apparent now that it must have sounded foreign to the Old Guy as he is clearly struggling to spell it, futile in his efforts of comparing it to the names on the list
(OG): Could you spell it for me, please. Your forename.
(ST): S T O R Y T E double L E R
(OG): And your surname. Or better write it down for me please.
In a blink of an eye, he disappears from the Storyteller’s field of view. It seems like impossible task for such an old guy as he looks like, or is he just an old guy? A well-known twinge. His sense of danger is coming back online. Storyteller swallows, thinking: ‘‘What I did get myself into this time, coming into lion’s den out of my own volition? How crazy do you think you are, you crazy old fool’’.
The Old guy is back after less than a blink with a scrap of paper and a pen, which he drops handing it to Storyteller. Again, he surprises Himself with his quick responses, and agility for such an Old Guy that he looks like. ‘’Who is he’’ The Storyteller begins to think, writing down his name on a scrap of paper on his knee. Neverless, he hands it back to the Old Guy, who in turn start comparing itto The List carefully, seemingly fully focused on the task, difficult one it must be for such an Old Guy that he is.
After a long time, that felt like two bliniks he blurts out:
(OG): You’re not a list, What’s the time you said you had that appointment?
The Storyteller makes a mind note: ‘’Be careful, it appears he is getting anxious, he should say: <<what’s the time you are to have that appointment?>>. A clear sign. You do not want to aggravate them before the task is complete’’. He did not say the hour of the appointment so far but chooses to omit mentioning it.
(ST): 11a.m.
(OG): With whom?
(ST): With my job coach, or whatever the name for that functionary is.
The Storyteller makes another mind note: ‘’Damn it, I am getting anxious too. Again, be careful’’.
(OG): You’re not a list at 11a.m. (In a blink of an eye, he becomes all friendly again, like a purring furball) Don’t worry about it, I will have it all sorted out in no time. Please have yourself seated until then.
Somehow in all that glorious and carefully arranged Inside were four looking lonely chairs standing just in front of the first desk, avoiding Storytellers notice so far. He sits at the nearest one, not sure anymore what will come next or what to except. Suddenly it feels all very real, excactly like being in a lion’s cave. He notices another rise to his anxiety and starts fiddling with his wrist watch to at least keep his hands busy, as all other attempts at looking inconspicuous are surely seen for what they really are, just a disguise. ‘’That usually turns them all hostile’’ he thnks, ‘’Why are they still acting normal? What is wrong with them?’’ Suddenly there is The Old Guy standing right in front of him. He is breathing if he just run the marathon, and who knows? Maybe he did.
(OG): I know … (Interrupted by his breathing hard) I know what happened. You came with a petition to UC not JC. (Breathing hard again) Do you see that lovely lady coming towards us? She is from UC floor; she will take you from here.
You could easily misinterpret his relief at having it over at last for self satisfaction at a job well done. But Storyteller is not to be fooled anymore. His Sense of Danger is fully operational again, awakened with the previous twinge of insight.
(LL): Hello there. I am Lovely Lady; I will take you to your job coach now.
You could count manierisms in her speech actually, if you wished it.
(LL): Please follow me.
She starts walking towards The Next Door at the other end of The Walking Path, actually walking along the carefully laid out path. Storyteller has to pick up a pace to avoid getting stranded inside lion’s cage. Along the way he thinks: ‘’All that time, all those ready and raring prime specimen of humans, they were sitting at their armchair, sipping coffee or tea, self indulging themselves in an idle chit chat. I haven’t seen anybody else walking in, or attempting it with a guard dog such as an Old Guy in place it might get difficult. So why are they really there? Highly suspicious.’’ At that instant his Defense Systems bip to acknowledge being online, while actually being positively aroused in hope for some not long over due ‘fun’. That in turn triggers Storyteller to think: ‘’That’s surpring, I did not feel that a long time’’, while observing shapely and firm buttocks of the Lovely Lady.
Lovely Lady stops to click the pin on a keypad, walks in and hold the door for The Storyteller to follow. ‘’It’s even better view up the stairs’’ Storyteller thinks. But what else is there in life for an old and lonely guy like him? Lion’s cave long forgotten.
The first floor is entirely different to The Grand and Grandious Ground Floor, it looks almost normal. Storyteller has to blink three times, he is so shocked to see that. But after that he spents a lovely hour, being among normal people for a change, taking his mask off, accomplishing nothing, because he simply forgot about his task after all those infernal promises of a pleasure, engorging himself with a view of Lovely Lady’s buttocks, and being sent back home with a long list of to-do-things.
Walking down the stairs wakes him up a bit. Or rather questioning bips from his Defense System ‘’Where’s the fun?’’ wakes him up. Just on time. He is about to enter lion’s cave again, out of his own volition. He makes a mind not: ‘’Don’t do it again, you old fool’’.
He enters the Ground Floor, starts walking towards The Entrance, or The Exit, surely, it’s the same thing, surprised that nobody interfers, and that they are still acting peaceful. Defense Systems comment on that with more persistant and louder bips ‘’Where’s the fun?’’, confused about the reason for being brought online. But do not be mistaken it is not over yet.
At the End of The Walking Path Storyteller swings around the back of the Old Guy using the opportunity of him being otherwise occupied with another petitioner. ‘’Wow, there is a second one actually’’ He can’t stop himself from thinking that. His pleasant reminescences are being abruptly interrupted by one of the other three security officers saying:
(SO): It’s this way.
The exit is not the same as The Entrance, ‘’how odd?’’ Storyteller thinks. But that’s not the strangest thing yet. The one-way Exit is secured from the inside with a keypad, and a lock responsive to a magnetic card held by Security Officer. ‘’I wonder what the other two opens? Stop that, you old fool, enough adventures for one day.’’. He leaves the building with a long sigh of relief, his task still long forgotten, thinking: ‘’Who is actually running that crazy house? If I was just a tad bit wiser, I would be inclined to think it was The Old Guy Himself! At the same time, it would explain why others were acting like marionettes, obviously being under influences of a powerful enchantment. You know what it means, one of grand daemons disguised as The Old Guy and his horde. Uff. We dodged the bullet this time. But duty requires to be back and sort it out, and we shall be back in full force soon. Better question is why did he let me go? He surely must have seen through my mask’’.
And that it would seem is the end of the story about Storyteller for tonight. Goodnight. Dream well about ways of things.
1. Quiz - What is that place? autistic to the letter depiction, everything was there except Storyteller's thoughts
2. What do you think about style like that, short action snapshots, and jump bit forward into future, and another short action snapshot. I am new to this, and following my tendencies to jump in first than read I came up with something like that style, that I plan to use to write my book, I already have 15 pages there, but maybe before i write all, I could get some free feedback :D