Tag Archives: An Epic Collaboration

A Birthday Post featuring Mr Devine…..

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….with a nice knitting pattern resulting in World peace. In September 2022 Devine was coerced into a writing collaboration with Ms Scarlet Ambrosia Blue [1917 – ?]. This arrangement proved to be beneficial for them both as each time a new instalment was published readers would clamour to their blogs desperate to be the first to leave a pithy insightful comment, and perhaps be instrumental to furthering the plot. However, the collaboration was short lived and ended when Blue cried foul play. During the climax of their epic adventure Devine turned Blue into a mouse thus rendering her a mere squeak in the Blogosphere. With hindsight it is clear that Blue was suffering from the delusions that would later become the inspiration for her Mogwashian Opus [paperback only – £0.99, Amazon] – as with all of Blue’s work it contained too many commas, lacked a perceivable structure and a satisfactory conclusion, and, to make matters worse, it had an irrelevant, long-winded chapter about using cheese as an insulation material.

In March 2023 Inexplicably Devine had another birthday, specifically on the 22nd March, although it was seen to spread well into April, and popped up again in both August and November for an encore. By this time Devine was at his most creative and influential; aided and abetted by his new familiar, Bertie, Devine found fresh impetus to watch science-fiction based visual media whilst ensconced on a long upholstered seat with a back and arms that provided physical ease and relaxation. It was from this place of comfort that Devine was kidnapped and then trapped in what he colourfully described as the ‘Rubber Ducky Room’. This room would become the blueprint for Devine’s much lauded….

Wilmslow, Peter (2036) Blog Communities, The Early Years, Vermilion Press

Part 7 of the Epic Collaboration – A Revelation of Sorts

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Continued from HERE

“With this epic collaboration you are spoiling us,” whispered Aidan Turner into my ear.
We had left the throng of the Mogwash Manor ballroom and had retired to the balcony for some privacy as I was feeling a little peculiar after eating far too many Ferrero Rocher chocolates. I squinted at Aidan, and then in a fit of bravado I whipped away the flannel that was covering a suspiciously saggy pair of greying Y fronts.
“You’re not Aidan Turner!” I screamed, “You are Mago, the German archeologist from a post I wrote on April 15th 2015 that obviously EVERYONE remembers!”
Mago’s shoulders slumped in shame, and he slid the black nylon wig from his head.
“‘ee made me do it,” said Mago, “‘ee made me pretend.”
“Who?”
“That Device person, ‘ee is witch.”
“I thought you were German, not Spanish? Never mind, we will work on that later…. but why, Why??? Why would he do that????? WHY?????” I said, becoming somewhat hysterical.
“‘ee is after the Bottle of Greed! ‘Ee think Aidan could seduce you into revealing its location; ‘ee say ‘ee would share profits with me.”
I smiled my special enigmatic smile, kept for such occasions.
“This is all getting very silly,” I muttered.
“Bit like British Government,” chuckled Mago.
I glared at him and continued, “do you have my left wellington boot?”
“Mais oui, it is ‘ere,” replied Mago, relieving a passing butler of one muddy boot and handing it to me.
“Thank you, that’s the Cinderella thread of this epic tale sewn up then.”
“What ‘appens next?”
“Well that depends on you, do you want to stay in a narrative where you are forced to fly around half naked on an ancient octopus sucker bathmat? Or, would you like to be in a narrative where you wear warm clothes and have the status of historian/professor/archeologist?”
I felt my stomach grumble and regretted my overindulgence with the Ferrero Rocher – I had terrible indigestion. My chest tightened and my Bettina gown felt as though it was shrinking, whilst Mago appeared to be getting larger and larger.

“Damn that witch!” I squeaked.

“Vair did she go? She ‘as vanished! I want nice narrative, with the clothes! I want to dig up carparks! Wo ist she????” Despaired Mago, almost getting the gist of a German accent.

It appeared that I had neglected to tie up the Alice in Wonderland thread in a timely fashion, and this neglect would cost me dear….

strange-bottles-uk
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To be continued over the Cusp….
Although there may be an interlude around the Garden Event and Halloween.

PART 5 of The Epic Collaboration

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Continued from HERE and also from HERE

Charmaine glared at me, and then started speaking louder than necessary.
“Are you going to write part 5 of the epic collaboration with Mr Devine, which YOU instigated, or are you going to drift off into hibernation for the rest of the Autumn?”
I squinted at her, and even through my narrowed eyes she was still the size of a bus. I had grown comfortable lodged on the sofa, eating chocolate and watching TV, and to be honest, I hadn’t a clue what the epic tale was about.
“Remind me, what is the story about?” I asked.
Charmaine’s face reddened like an overripe tomato aloft a lump of lard.
“Oh for God’s sake, Aunt Scarlet, it’s not rocket science! To bring you up to speed it’s kind of a mash up of Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty, with a dollop of Alice in Wonderland. All you need to know right now is that Mr Devine and Dinah are travelling on a flying Bathmat to Franconia to turn Mr Mags into Aidan Turner, they will then return in time for the ball at Mogwash Manor. Aidan Turner will then give you your lost wellington boot and you will both live happily ever after, though obviously not together.
“I’m sure you’re missing some detail, surely it can’t be that simple?”
“It has to be simple, there have been complaints,” said Charmaine, stoney faced, “for starters Mistress Maddie is so confused that she’s drinking even more gin than usual, and she’s rather upset because she hasn’t been given a starring role. Dinah is perturbed because she has TOO MUCH of a starring role and feels overexposed, whilst Melanie is politely bemused but is trying her hardest to keep up. Mistress MJ wants to throw cake over the whole sorry affair, though Jon is surprisingly engaged – this is because his award winning back passage has been a major feature in part 3 and part 4. Mitzi is keeping her head down and is studying fractions, whilst Mr Mags is neutral as he would rather sleep. Mr Batarde, Savvy, Kylie, Eryl, Nick, Bill, Looby, and Lulu, are threatening you with legal action should you have any ideas about writing them into any subsequent parts.
So, what does happen in part 5????”

“You want to know what happened up Jon’s award winning back passage in Sarf London?”
“YES!!! I do!!!”
“Well, it was lovely. We sat on his smoking bench surrounded by glorious blooms, whilst sycamore seeds descended from the skies. We listened to Liza Tarbuck on Radio 2 and we had tea and muffins. He gave me two bags of empty wine bottles, I thanked him, and assured him that nothing awful would happen to him in part 5. All was going splendidly until Sid cocked his leg over his Lilium candidum – Jon wasn’t best pleased – there was a lot of hosing down, mopping up, and muttering about acidic soiling, then he threw us out on the street.”

“AND???” Said Charmaine, somewhat exasperated.
“And what?”
“You need to give Mr Devine something to bounce off!”
“He’s fine! He’s floating on a bathmat over Franconia with Dinah – the next time I see either of them will be at the Mogwash Ball when they bring me Aidan Turner. All I can do now is wait patiently on the sofa, and perhaps ask Mistress Maddie, or Jon, to find me a jaw dropping gown.”
“No, that’s not good enough.”
“Okay, okay….. how about… he threw us out on the street just as a large octopus sucker bathmat carrying three people crash landed up his back passage….”

“How does this all end?” Asked Charmaine.
“Badly, I imagine.”
“You’ll never make it as a novelist.”
“I know that,” I replied, “but I can still take nice photographs of Sid.”

To be continued over the cusp.