Post by theboyinadress on Mar 15, 2015 9:35:46 GMT -6
Ninurta reached for the stunted cigar in his breast pocket and then stilled his hand
as he remembered where he was. A courtroom jury wouldn't be impressed by cigar
smoke drifting from the witness box.
"You know, you could have at least put a tie on" God said as he watched the trees sway
in the breeze outside. The large plate-glass windows of the corridor outside Court Room
One offered a serene tableau where nature could quietly exist within an urban situation.
"A tie would have given you a look of civility" the Omnipotent One murmured softly and the
tall, lean man dressed in the wide-rimmed hat and the low-slung revolver tied to his leg
guessed that God was musing to himself more than giving advice to his grizzled companion
leaning on the corridor's wooden panelling.
"So why am 'ah here...?" Ninurta said to the back of the white-haired man that had appeared
in his motel room that very morning. The gunman had been staying off the radar for some time
after the adventures of yore and now, the tired traveller had just wanted a bit of peace and
quiet to contemplate those strange events of another age.
"...I mean, 'ah would've thought I'd be the last guy yer'd want sittin' in a courtroom" he added
and rasped his long fingers across his unshaven chin.
............................
The conversation that had played out in the small 'Wig-Wam Motel' room earlier had been
less-than cordial affair -to say the least. When God had suddenly emerged from the shadows
near the curtained window, the long black barrel of the revolver aimed directly at his face was
not something a creator of everything was accustomed to.
Still, it was this world that had made the prone man on the bed behave the way he did and
so, God let the initial introduction slide.
"Hello Ninurta" the calm voice said began busying himself making the coffee.
............................
A young woman in a knee-length charcoal skirt and a poor choice of blouse, stepped out
of the courtroom and set off down the corridor towards the Records Office.
Jenna Marbles had been a lawyer for eight years now and even though the company that
she was currently with had offered her some pretty-good cases, this latest one involving
the whack-job in the red dress had forced her to once more, ponder the offer from Chicago's
Piers & Grand.
The parking was better, at the least.
God pulled the Patek pocket-watch from his waistcoat and breathed a deep sigh as he
frowned at the passing time. He had things to do and waiting around for trivial formalities
was not something he really enjoyed.
"I need you to vouch for someone" he stated flatly and with a flick of the wrist, the golden
timepiece looped in the air and snapping the accompanying chain tight, it dropped from view
back into the Lord's pocket.
............................
"...Yer've got the wrong fella..." Ninurta hissed and sliding from the bed, God was surprised
to see that he was fully-clothed. A more cynical individual may have considered that the gunman
didn't trust anyone. "...'Ah'm just keepin' my business mine" he said easily and kept the weapon
trained on the intruder.
The Holy-Of-Holies pondered on how to open the tiny pot of UHT milk and thought better of it.
Black coffee was this man's regular drink he mused and turning slowly, he offered the steaming
brew to the guest of the establishment.
"Your breakfast?" God chirped.
............................
Ninurta pushed himself from his relaxed position and stepped over to the bright vista of
shimmering alders and cool, lush grass on the other side of the window, his narrow eyes
soaked in the information without any of the anapestic ruminations of this writer.
"It's that crazy BIAD, isn't it...?" the slow drawl came, "...he's in trouble again" and moving
his cool-blue eyes slightly, Ninurta watched God's reflection in the glass for confirmation.
............................
The desert sun tore into the musty room of Tucumcari's end-of-the-mainstreet's roadhouse
as God pulled back the curtains and soaked in the morning's rays. "Oh, that's good" he
whispered to himself and smiled.
Ninurta watched from the chair across the room and sipped his java without any emotion,
much like he did with anything these days. "So, yer break into a man's room, say yer' the Divine
Creator and want my view on today's society...? Is that about it?" the low-toned gunman asked
and struck a kitchen match on the small table beside him.
The one where his pistol lay close by.
God kept the smile on his many-lined face and glanced at his new disciple through the blue haze
of the cigar smoke. "That's it in a nutshell, my son" he said happily.
Ninurta offered his non-revealing gaze at the invader and said nothing.
"This world is changing so fast and some of the practices of the past, the conduct and self
-restraint, are being eroded away" the smiling Godhead said. "...It's time somebody reminded
the good-folk of this planet of their responsibilities" he added.
Ninurta crushed the stub of his cigar into the foil ashtray on the tiny table and shrugged.
"Like 'ah said, yer've got the wrong fella" he growled and then instantly reached for his gun.
Something had changed.
As written somewhere before, they were no longer in Kansas.
............................
The Absolute Being folded his arms and shook his head, the shoulder-length hair emulated
the movement of the silver leaves of the thin trees outside the courthouse as he thought on
what to say next.
Boy In A Dress wasn't one of his. The eyeless freak in the short dress and weird wig had not
been on his list of original design and even though the bare-thighed creature had seemed to
pass through this reality on a fairly peaceful path, God had been giving serious consideration
to halting his existence and getting this world back on-track.
That was before Ninurta had befriended the constantly-grinning singularity.
............................
"Welcome to New York..." God announced and held his arms in the air "...the city that never
sleeps!" A low-crouching Ninurta spun a full circle and kept the barrel of his ancient firearm
infront of him throughout the function. The riverside walkway was empty except for him and
the weirdo with the white hair.
In the early-morning mist, the gunman recognised the Brooklyn Bridge towering above them
and he checked and rechecked his surroundings, his first thoughts were that he'd somehow
been dragged back into the past.
The days of other-worlds.
"Fella, 'ah don't know what you've done, but you've better have a good reason..." Ninurta
began and then faltered as the stranger stood beside him and placed a finger to the lips of
the man that had once travelled through time as well as space.
"Listen to me and they will listen to you" God whispered.
............................
After a young man passed by with an armful of files and left his cologne lingering in the
corridor, the old white-haired gent and the gunslinger looked at each other across the serious
surroundings.
"This case is about the person you said, but I feel that your views and opinions need to be
aired in a situation more... more ubiquitous" God said and suddenly turned towards the
Courtroom door. "We're up" he supplemented and brushed the lapels of his tweed suit.
The trail-dusty man that stepped up beside him thought about the All Powerful deity's words
and with a pull on the brim of his hat, he let the words drift away. He was what he was and
that's it.
The Usher opened the large oak door and gestured for the pair to enter and the confused
gaze of the young bailiff wasn't lost on the gunman with the giant pistol on his hip and
confidently striding into the hallowed room in scuffed cowboy boots.
"See...? you should have worn a tie" God whispered from the side of his mouth.
as he remembered where he was. A courtroom jury wouldn't be impressed by cigar
smoke drifting from the witness box.
"You know, you could have at least put a tie on" God said as he watched the trees sway
in the breeze outside. The large plate-glass windows of the corridor outside Court Room
One offered a serene tableau where nature could quietly exist within an urban situation.
"A tie would have given you a look of civility" the Omnipotent One murmured softly and the
tall, lean man dressed in the wide-rimmed hat and the low-slung revolver tied to his leg
guessed that God was musing to himself more than giving advice to his grizzled companion
leaning on the corridor's wooden panelling.
"So why am 'ah here...?" Ninurta said to the back of the white-haired man that had appeared
in his motel room that very morning. The gunman had been staying off the radar for some time
after the adventures of yore and now, the tired traveller had just wanted a bit of peace and
quiet to contemplate those strange events of another age.
"...I mean, 'ah would've thought I'd be the last guy yer'd want sittin' in a courtroom" he added
and rasped his long fingers across his unshaven chin.
............................
The conversation that had played out in the small 'Wig-Wam Motel' room earlier had been
less-than cordial affair -to say the least. When God had suddenly emerged from the shadows
near the curtained window, the long black barrel of the revolver aimed directly at his face was
not something a creator of everything was accustomed to.
Still, it was this world that had made the prone man on the bed behave the way he did and
so, God let the initial introduction slide.
"Hello Ninurta" the calm voice said began busying himself making the coffee.
............................
A young woman in a knee-length charcoal skirt and a poor choice of blouse, stepped out
of the courtroom and set off down the corridor towards the Records Office.
Jenna Marbles had been a lawyer for eight years now and even though the company that
she was currently with had offered her some pretty-good cases, this latest one involving
the whack-job in the red dress had forced her to once more, ponder the offer from Chicago's
Piers & Grand.
The parking was better, at the least.
God pulled the Patek pocket-watch from his waistcoat and breathed a deep sigh as he
frowned at the passing time. He had things to do and waiting around for trivial formalities
was not something he really enjoyed.
"I need you to vouch for someone" he stated flatly and with a flick of the wrist, the golden
timepiece looped in the air and snapping the accompanying chain tight, it dropped from view
back into the Lord's pocket.
............................
"...Yer've got the wrong fella..." Ninurta hissed and sliding from the bed, God was surprised
to see that he was fully-clothed. A more cynical individual may have considered that the gunman
didn't trust anyone. "...'Ah'm just keepin' my business mine" he said easily and kept the weapon
trained on the intruder.
The Holy-Of-Holies pondered on how to open the tiny pot of UHT milk and thought better of it.
Black coffee was this man's regular drink he mused and turning slowly, he offered the steaming
brew to the guest of the establishment.
"Your breakfast?" God chirped.
............................
Ninurta pushed himself from his relaxed position and stepped over to the bright vista of
shimmering alders and cool, lush grass on the other side of the window, his narrow eyes
soaked in the information without any of the anapestic ruminations of this writer.
"It's that crazy BIAD, isn't it...?" the slow drawl came, "...he's in trouble again" and moving
his cool-blue eyes slightly, Ninurta watched God's reflection in the glass for confirmation.
............................
The desert sun tore into the musty room of Tucumcari's end-of-the-mainstreet's roadhouse
as God pulled back the curtains and soaked in the morning's rays. "Oh, that's good" he
whispered to himself and smiled.
Ninurta watched from the chair across the room and sipped his java without any emotion,
much like he did with anything these days. "So, yer break into a man's room, say yer' the Divine
Creator and want my view on today's society...? Is that about it?" the low-toned gunman asked
and struck a kitchen match on the small table beside him.
The one where his pistol lay close by.
God kept the smile on his many-lined face and glanced at his new disciple through the blue haze
of the cigar smoke. "That's it in a nutshell, my son" he said happily.
Ninurta offered his non-revealing gaze at the invader and said nothing.
"This world is changing so fast and some of the practices of the past, the conduct and self
-restraint, are being eroded away" the smiling Godhead said. "...It's time somebody reminded
the good-folk of this planet of their responsibilities" he added.
Ninurta crushed the stub of his cigar into the foil ashtray on the tiny table and shrugged.
"Like 'ah said, yer've got the wrong fella" he growled and then instantly reached for his gun.
Something had changed.
As written somewhere before, they were no longer in Kansas.
............................
The Absolute Being folded his arms and shook his head, the shoulder-length hair emulated
the movement of the silver leaves of the thin trees outside the courthouse as he thought on
what to say next.
Boy In A Dress wasn't one of his. The eyeless freak in the short dress and weird wig had not
been on his list of original design and even though the bare-thighed creature had seemed to
pass through this reality on a fairly peaceful path, God had been giving serious consideration
to halting his existence and getting this world back on-track.
That was before Ninurta had befriended the constantly-grinning singularity.
............................
"Welcome to New York..." God announced and held his arms in the air "...the city that never
sleeps!" A low-crouching Ninurta spun a full circle and kept the barrel of his ancient firearm
infront of him throughout the function. The riverside walkway was empty except for him and
the weirdo with the white hair.
In the early-morning mist, the gunman recognised the Brooklyn Bridge towering above them
and he checked and rechecked his surroundings, his first thoughts were that he'd somehow
been dragged back into the past.
The days of other-worlds.
"Fella, 'ah don't know what you've done, but you've better have a good reason..." Ninurta
began and then faltered as the stranger stood beside him and placed a finger to the lips of
the man that had once travelled through time as well as space.
"Listen to me and they will listen to you" God whispered.
............................
After a young man passed by with an armful of files and left his cologne lingering in the
corridor, the old white-haired gent and the gunslinger looked at each other across the serious
surroundings.
"This case is about the person you said, but I feel that your views and opinions need to be
aired in a situation more... more ubiquitous" God said and suddenly turned towards the
Courtroom door. "We're up" he supplemented and brushed the lapels of his tweed suit.
The trail-dusty man that stepped up beside him thought about the All Powerful deity's words
and with a pull on the brim of his hat, he let the words drift away. He was what he was and
that's it.
The Usher opened the large oak door and gestured for the pair to enter and the confused
gaze of the young bailiff wasn't lost on the gunman with the giant pistol on his hip and
confidently striding into the hallowed room in scuffed cowboy boots.
"See...? you should have worn a tie" God whispered from the side of his mouth.
