🏰 The TW CITY 🏰
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A rank-smelling youth who was drinking from a flagon of cider,started to clap.He drained his cider and began to tap his stockinged feet.Gaining confidence he started to jig amidst the dancers with arms straightened by his sides and dirty face absorbed in the exercise."That's the foul mouthed dirty jerz",said Grim belching heartily into the cringing troll-like features of Lex Toother.Suddenly dirty jerz's legs kicked forward,backwards and outwards.He jerked this way and that,legs kicking out ever wildly.Dancers backed away.A high kick here.A low kick there.One to the left,one to the right.Gibbering with glee,jerz launched a triumphant double kick which struck Dragon square into the chin.Dragon instantly sprang up but his 'attacker' was already reeling away,mud caked head wagging to the music.Casting his 'guitar' aside,Dragon lurched after the questionable dancer with sleeves pulled up.
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One strategically placed leg was enough to send jerz careening to the ground to the applause of the crowd.Dragon hit down swiftly upon the flabbergasted form in perfect beat to the drums.Releasing bowels put an end to the impromptu dervish-dance and Dragon took to playing his 'guitar' with both feet straddling the moaning jerz.Much pleased with the happy sideshow,we took advantage of a more sedate dance,cast a few coins into an upturned cap and passed through.
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Wow, you seem to be having some fun with this! Very interesting!
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Hahahah anthor great one! Yeeee-haaaaa RICKSHAW man here!
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A row of 5 wicket gates controlled the movements to Yawn towers of new arrivals but only one was in operation.The line of applicants seemed to move not at all.Charlie approached and discovered that Hyena the operator had fallen sideways onto the floor and appeared to be either fast asleep or dead.Not wanting to disturb the still form,Charlie rolled it aside with his foot and sat down to receive the next in line.His face took on an officious look as White-death placed his application into his outstretched hand.
"I study hard and wish to go unmolested through the city and the yawn movement would suit me very well indeed",explained White in a tone that at once irritated Charlie."The application form is smudged and that thatch of hair that sprouts from your overlong nostrils hints at greed and unseemly snot clusters.Application denied!Move away!".White's protestations fell on deaf ears as SwampDonkey manhandled him away with purpose,a pair of shears in hand. -
Some jostling and curses from the line disturbed the flow of the unmoving line as the herring faced Fuckyea inched forward to press himself upon another called Clash-of-clans who in turn squeezed against the book reading Glasses Malone.The ruckus upset BC who demanded to see their papers at once.Each blamed the other.BC upbraided them on their impatience between yawns and bade them to remove themselves to the back of the line,"I myself wish to copulate sooner rather than later but you don't see me hopping from one leg to another like some horny teenager sniffing after a bit of minge pudding.Besides your documentation is written in capitals which is certainly not the way of the YAWN".Pleased with the work done,Charlie professed tiredness,yawned,and closed for the day,ignoring the look of dismay stretched upon the next in line Ronin's face."Suga will be wanting more material to read",he said,patting a plastic bag full of skin-mags knowingly.
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Incomplete or poorly written forms do annoy me so. It's a well known pet hate of BC's too.
Besides, not many people can ever answer the Matt LeTissier questioning round.
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Greatest hatrick of all time.... All rise for Sir Matt 👏
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👍👏👍👏👍👏
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Suga Danio wrote:
and it's that knowledge display as to why you are in the Yawn dear boy.Greatest hatrick of all time.... All rise for Sir Matt 👏
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The rambling structure of Yawn towers is situated in the middle of 10 acres of land,all walled in by a high red-brick wall crumbling in parts.Most was wilderness with a meadow,an orchard,a copse of trees,a gurgling brook and a grassy knoll.Here and there were the odd statue or empty pedestal.Grassy mounds pointed to evidences of a formal garden now all but forgotten.Dandelions and buttercups grew unmolested amid the uncut lawns.A line of dark yew trees stood either side of the path to the Yawn manse,a rambling old building with balconies,high gables,bay windows and a score of tall chimneys and two tall towers which could be seen from every point of the garden.A number of restorations had been attempted with indifferent success and ivy grew unhindered on its once white walls with tendrils poking out from under its jutting eaves.
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We walked towards the great wooden door and Charlie bent down to move aside a dried potted plant and tutted in vexation to find no key.He let the brass ringed knocker drop and we waited but there was no movement from within.The upper windows were dark but Carl thought to see a pale amber light from a window.Sidling to the window through overgrown shrubbery,Carl peered within.At a table there was a man with bulging eyes,glistening forehead and tongue sticking out.He stooped over a table covered in open nudie books and his right arm twitched rhythmically as the left flicked over pages.Carl tapped on the pane and flashed a friendly open smile.Suga looked up in surprise which soon turned to anger and made to fling filth at the window but Carl quickly pulled away and ran to the front door.Before he could say anything,the door swung open with the flush faced Suga explaining that he had been busy polishing,and having a rise for Le Tissier's hat-trick.
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Great work Vish 👏👏👍
Perhaps it's time for a certain minstrel and his mandolinist to make a return 😉 -
✌️🍂🍃👀🍂🍃👍
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Great writing man! Keep it up! 👍
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So good, I had to comment twice! I never expected such a delightful run. Here's to hoping I'll be performing a hat trick of my own some day. Thanks Vish! 👏
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Meanwhile as Vishbume slept,in another part of the city,an untoward incident occurred with Roger.The person called Engineer was standing in front of a stand that sold hot-pants.He was holding up two pairs to his hips and looking critically at himself in the mirror.The seller,Crazy Wayne,encouraged him to try them on for better appraisal. Engineer slipped to the side and peeled off his shiny track-suit bottoms.Roger noticed that no sooner had he done so that the curtain-backdrop of the shop stealthily lifted and out came a long stick attached to a blue veiny arm.The stick hit out viciously and wilfully upon Engineer's soft parts causing him to lurch forward and fall into the curtains,taking it down as he fell.Behind the collapsed hangings stood a surprised figure lifting his shoulders in innocent surprise.
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Sensing impending danger,he hopped on two stiff unbending legs to put himself between Roger and the crowd."Save me",came a shrill begging voice from a small mouth on a rancid tuber of a head,"Me name is Johnny No-Knees and I gots codes".Roger's sensitive ears immediately caught the word "codes".Johnny bared his chest to reveal long list of tattooed digits."This way",ordered Roger with the 'temps' reflected in his calculating eyes.Roger ran with the emaciated Johnny under his arm before Engineer could gather his wits and demand satisfaction."Quickly now the codes", said Roger as he set Johnny down,pulling at his shirt in a quiet alley.Johnny fumbled with the buttons and removed his shirt."CODES!", screamed the passing Lolbanlol2 at which many heads turned."Johnny No-Knees!",shouted Scarbutt.
Roger,cursing,took matters into his own hands.
Later the gentle Roger was seen sitting and taking refreshments at a bar as he diligently crossed out numbered tattoos from a human hide. -
Anthor great installment of TW city!
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Happy to have been mentioned! 👏👏👏
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Lol....the gentle Roger 😂
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Never ceases to amaze me of the talented writers in the turf wars community.
I was never a good writer except for a random though that turns into a paragraph 😂😂😂
All I can say is keep up the damn good writing.
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The discarded tobacco coloured tattooed hide with its unseeing eye holes and vacuous flattened face was taken by a gust of wind to become lodged and shredded in the spokes of a passing trike ridden by Dovahkiin.The tatters blew like confetti over the vagrant musicians Hades and Dova who were plying their trade near note-taking students of Cookie Mob and Killshot's open air school.Students barely heard Dova's heartfelt warblings as they learnt the basics of hopscotch,blind-man's buff [sic],follow the leader,hide the sausage,mud wrestling,soggy biscuit,tag,as well as the ever popular hamstring.
The unwanted appearance of the hollow-cheeked Thuglife caused the mellifluous music of Hade's one string mandolin to strike a series of discordant notes which in turn cut short Dova's hoarse heart-rending ballad of the travails of Captain Planet. -
His gnarly hand held a sharpened teaspoon which he waved threatingly.He,uncaring,pulled down his skin-tight breeches and casually voided into Apple Juice's sugar bowl,howling with wild abandon all the whilst.M00sekill raced in and whisked an electrically charged rod down upon Thug's backside.Again and again he whisked.Thug dropped the spoon and rolled away wheezing.He pulled up his soiled breeches and forced himself to his feet.He stood facing M00sekill and kicked the bowl at him.But the kick was went awry and the contents sprayed over the unsuspecting couple of Mr and Mrs VWTECH who were passing by.They flew into a rage and pushed all aside and administered a sound thrashing to Thug.Satisfied,they strolled away without a backward glance whereas Thug hobbled forward and snatched up his spoon,ran away only to stop and turn back waving it triumphantly in the air.But Dova and Hades did not see any of this for they were far away by now,busy emptying purses and wallets and counting their contents.
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A slightly dilapidated house of wood with terracotta roof tiles stood with a strip of lawn separating it from the road.A small gravel path led to a now sun dappled porch.The door was open revealing a small darkened hallway.The curtains were closed and the house looked unoccupied.
A dark knot of figures converse under the shade of a tree with their backs turned to us.Snippets of conversation can be heard dealing with politics,healthcare,climate change,religion and such things.A large headed boy catches a beam of light as he hops down from the tree into the centre of the group.His foppish green and yellow blouse is dramatically illuminated as he looks upon each face.He closes his eyes imagining that it loans a look of wisdom upon his bum-fluffed face and speaks.His finger points and narrow chin juts out as he rebukes all that he had overheard.His hands claw and wave at the air as if to rip the perceived incongruities and falsehoods from the air. -
"Look", he says triumphantly,pointing to the house,"This house.See the unpainted walls and note the lack of smoke from that bird nest inhabited chimney".He looks from face to face and proceeds,"Nobody lives there.It is unoccupied".Defying any to challenge him,he hops onto the lawn and creates furrows through it with his boot heels.
"Attend".He jumps up onto the porch and stamps his boots,dropping clay onto its floor.The curtain seems to move."Look". He kicks out at a rocking chair."Observe". He drops his voluminous pantaloons,stands just in the doorway,and begins to pass wind."Look",he performs a fart assisted Harlem shuffle in the doorway. -
He stands with hands on hips,doing minute pelvic thrusts,as if daring any to dispute his evidences.But the audience are looking just beyond his shoulder."Look",came a deep voice,in an effort to ape the boy's nasally voice.Dark Magician looked down to the place between his legs and duly noted the appearance of an umbrella tip."Observe",commanded the voice.The umbrella shot open causing the lad to release a gust of air from either end."Get off my lawn",growled OTB,the homeowner.
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In some respects your choice of clothing also shows where your loyalties are and signals from whence you can seek protection.If you are attacked or cuffed over the ear by one such garbed person on the street,treat it as a playful scuffle,smile and hit back with matching blows without fear of reprisals from others wearing the same colours.However if you were to respond by grappling for his belongings,expect others of the same livery to band together to hound,clobber and divest you of your source of income.
David Courtney was turning up a street when he was greeted by Bad News who wished him a "wonderful day" and then suddenly launched a winding blow to his potbelly. -
The incensed Dave picked up a rock and threw it at the back of Bad's head."I will cut that great fat nose from your waxy head", promised Dave.The words meant nothing but the act could not be ignored.From nowhere Bad's companions appeared."Foul flaccid cocks the lot of ye", said Dave,snatching a broom handle (fashioned to resemble a blunderbuss) from the hands of the protesting Captain Calhoun who just happened to be marching past.Dave tore the plastic funnel that was taped to the top of it.
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"Best keep a civil tongue in that rotten parsnip head of yours",counselled CZ.Enraged,Dave Courtney ran at them but smashed headlong into a low overhead beam of wood and fell back on his bottom.The group surged forward fists upraised and dealt a dozen blows upon his confused features.A hand holding a knife closed in upon his money belt and cut it free and eager hands tore off his garments comparable to the spectacle of feasting pirañas.Sated,they went to a nearby tavern to spend their fortuitous windfall,leaving the bruised Dave to rue his uncharitable and bellicose behaviour.A lesson to be learnt for sure.
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