[sabertooth181]

Originally Posted by Small

Thank you, Thank you, and, my cousin made it. So it's not top-notch, but it's actually a nice guitar.

Not often someone else writes your own autobiography...

im gonna make a guitar one of these days.

[natedawg5280]

Haha, and my parents friend is making a tube amp. It's insane.

[sabertooth181]

Originally Posted by natedawg5280

Haha, and my parents friend is making a tube amp. It's insane.

haha sweet. i will be one of those freaks that does all that stuff. when i grow up.

[Small]

Small mulled over the information passed on to him last night by Strat. It wasn't all new. Most of it he'd already known, albiet, in a strange, detached sort of knowledge, the kind which doesn't allow easy access.
Yes, he had known, from his breif time in Lizwrenne's big blue backyard that she was fakely married to Strat, but it hadn't registered in his mind until Strat had appeared, and now it was lending a whole new angle onto the....case, he guessed you could call it.
He had known too, that Small had inspired the ire of several high-rankers, Inspector Small, to name one, in addition to that, Small kept a list of several other promininent names who would benefit by a sudden, inexplicable murder of Small.
Strat was definitely a good ally to have, his exploits were, if not famous, at least remarkable, and Small was never too swift to denounce anyone who offered help.

After a breif rendezvous and note comparison session, Nate, Small, Sabertooth decided to go their separate ways for the day, until tomorrow evening at seven, at which point they would meet at the office of Inspector Small to discuss this with him.

Then Bass_Girl offered to help, and, after a moment's discussion, the trio gladly accepted.

"But," said Sabertooth, cautioning her, "Before you get too excited, remember, you can't talk to ANYONE about this, okay?? And be extraordinarily careful, if they got Small, they can get you too. Understand???"
"I think..." answered Bass_Girl, a little uncertainty marring her features.
"Anyway, yeah... I think I'll go with you guys when you talk to Inspector Small and Mayor Bob."
"Okay, but be careful, okay?"
"Okay! dude! You don't need to get so--uptight--about it...sheesh." said the pretty young waitress.
"Just making sure." answered Small, "Okay, here's the plan, Nate will go through the newspaper's records and look for references to Small, Sabertooth will keep doing what he's been doing, and I'll look into the 'm' forum, 'kays?"
After recieving the affirmative, Small took his one-man show to the streets. Stumbling home through the damp and dark. Why was this city always so wretchedly depressing? Awful.
It was difficult to stay out of the light, but where you could see everything else. Small stuck to the wide-open spaces, or tried to. But as he passed the large, gleeming bank, whose windows and steel shone even in the dark, he suddenly perceived three shadows shoot out at him, he spun on his heel as the footsteps neared, diving through the air, there was a sudden gun-shot behind him and he saw the flash of bullett-on-tarmac just ahead.
He rolled, then, gaining his feet, betook himself with even greater speed, and he hoped, greater agility.
Something snatched his collar and spun him around.
"Time's up, pal." said a strained, pheglmy voice.
"Not quite." answered Small, giving in to the everlasting tradition of fight-bravado, and slamming a hand backwards over his shoulder; he hit something, not sure what, but it hit him back, hard.
While it was busy hitting him, he twisted away, there was a curse, and another shot behind him, he turned a corner, into a brightly lit street, and ran, ran, ran, like he never ran before, and hoped he never would have to since. Shots echoed past him again and again, but they became fainter, and he soon was totally free from pursuit.

Still, he never stopped moving until he reached his apartment, then he slammed the door and locked it tightly behind him, gasping for breath, tears of pain in his eye, what on earth had just happened here???
First he took out his contacts, and when he looked into the mirror he observed ruefully that his eye was not just sagging and bloodshot, not it was bruised and bloody too.
He'd become an investigator, and as such, now looked the part...

On a whim, before he took his three hours of sleep, he got online and checked a phone-listing for "Virtual Persons and Technically Non-Existent Web Personality"
S---SA--SH--SP--ST---STR---Stratguitarist. There it was.

It would wait until morning...
Small flopped into his bed without changing out of his street-clothes, and even with his coat on, his bed was so, so, soft.
----Excerpt from the autobiography of Small

[lizwrenne]

lizwrenne walked in--through the door of small's apartment, because the door 'doesn't really exist,' as it's only a device of the imagination. striding toward small, she shook her head as she smirked, her dreads dancing side to side.
"whoa....awesome hair," said the small man. "how'd you do it?"
"long story, it doesn't really matter. i'm here for other reasons. although if you'd like to hear the entire deal, i can meet you for some coffee. or maybe even a frufy machiatto with extra hot half percent milk," she said, as she narrowed her eyes, looking directly at small.
"sounds good. but why are you here, might i ask?" questioned small, as he continued to stare at lizwrenne's amazing hair.
taking a step back, lizwrenne sighed. for so long she had wanted to say this, but never had she thought she acutally would...the time had come. pulling a coke slushee out of strat's jacket (for he had so wonderfully loaned it to her), she sipped the sweet, iced, carbonated drink and began to talk.
"you know that i'm not exactly what you'd call a "buckie." it's a known fact that i've got a michigan grad dad. so i kinda have to like the wolverines. but that is beside the point. i like skiing, as you might know. maybe i've only been a couple of times, but it really is fun."
small's eyes got wide. was this the time when he would figure out who had really killed him? would lizwrenne possess the secrets that would finally unlock this mystery that had perplexed him for days--weeks, even? would this be the defining moment of truth?
lizwrenne continued. "i was in colorado. for so long i had wanted to get away, break away, do something fun. my fake husband and i had discussed of many things, among those going to hell. hell, michigan, that is. but that was simply out of the question. we did not have enough money."
small turned his back to lizwrenne, pondering how she might have gotten the money to travel all the way out to colorado. how could this be? she had only been on a plane but two times, and never even been to chicago. could she handle the trip financially and emotionally? "so how'd you get the cash? i know how the times are tough now," small said.
"well," lizwrenne continued, "strat and i decided that drastic things needed to be done. not only did he need a new razor, but one fewer mouth to feed. we sold sabertooth into slavery. actually, it was foster care, but it sounds cooler to say slavery. we gave him to a wealthy, yet kind, family from hell. michigan, that is."
"so that's how you got the money? ....hmm....so you really were there. interesting," thought small, as he blinked, only to see that lizwrenne was out the window. strat had swung by using his spidey senses, and swept her off her feet, flying through the paved streets of the city. they were gone.
small was alone. he had to figure this thing out. even if it was the last thing he did; he could not let himself down.

[stratguitarist]

ok, that had to have been a dream. first of all, lizwrenne was in jail. and unless strat broke her out romantically and dangerously, then i don't know how she got to small's apartment. also, strat can't do the spidey thing, swinging through the streets, although his borderline precognative reflexes may make it look like he has spidey senses.
oh, and also he wears a duster, its a specific type of jacket, it has a split up the middle that's connected with a flap so you can ride a horse (or motorcycle) and it won't go up in the back, but will split over the back and drape over your legs
take this, but take out the cowboy:

[sabertooth181]

Sabertooth lay up and awake in bed, for he was thinking. Thinking about the past. Where had he come from? All he could remember as a child was a smiling face, a dusty duster, and an awesome hair style. The people in the orphanage had told him that he was brought by a couple that was struggling financially. Sabertooth couldnt imagine how his parents could do such a thing. Finally, he realized that they were not his parents. They were merely a couple that had him. All of the sudden, Sabertooth shouted out into the darkness. He ripped an object that had been held in his hand. The oblect fell to the floor. His mother's single dreadlock lay on the floor, destroyed.

Sabertooth then realized that it was time to search out his biological father and take him out for ice cream instead of filling out mail in rebates.

[stratguitarist]

i'm sorry small, i didn't realize what mayhem my posting would cause to your autobiography

[natedawg5280]

Guys, this WAS Smalls autobiography, now it's getting chaotic. Either we should make a storytime thread in CPF or enjoy reading smalls autobiography...

[sabertooth181]

Originally Posted by natedawg5280

Guys, this WAS Smalls autobiography, now it's getting chaotic. Either we should make a storytime thread in CPF or enjoy reading smalls autobiography...

wow, good job stepping up an being a leader!

[Small]

Thanks Nate...

First of all, none of what any of you wrote happened, except what stratguitarist wrote.
I should make it clear right NOW, that Stratguitarist knows who did it. I told him. Stratguitarist, if he truly, truly desires, can be the second author, but I'd like to keep it at that....

Still, some of you seem like better writers than me.

Speaking of lent, I gave up coffee and cappucino products for lent, even though I'm not catholic, I do the lent thing... and it'll be tough, avoiding coffee and cappucino.....sad...


Small's three hours of sleep had been full of strange dreams... the first one had been narrated by lizwrenne, as if from outside her cell. The second one had been by Sabertooth, droning about how Lizwrenne was his mother, and of all things, strat was his father. Small had followed up this wretched nap by drinking the first drinkable thing he came upon, being very parched. That he came upon a bottle of pepto-bismal was totally incidental, and because of his injesting the pink liquid, he felt much better immediatly.
The face in the mirror that morning was enough to scare Small into purchasing a rather high-powered bottle of mace at the weapons and self-defense store. Still, his face was enough to warrant concern from people off the street, which annoyed him considerably.
He had then poured through the M forum, and had some ideas, oh yes, he had some ideas...

His ideas needed to wait. Next up on the list of things that needed done, and were going to get done was the quartet's meeting with Inspector Small.

The inspector's office was on the third floor, with large windows looking out over the city, on a raised platform sat a gigantic darkwood desk with a gleaming finish, the lamp on the side was gold, and the fountain pens in their holders were designer.
Down below the desk, four leather swivel-chairs were arranged in a half circle on the floor. Sabertooth, Nate, and Small, though intimidated, were familiar enough with the inspector that they felt no nervousness.
Poor Bass_Girl though, was at a loss. She fidgeted uncomfortably in the sqeaky leather chair, arranging and rearranging herself, playing absently with her hair, or biting her lip.
Small was pouring over his notes, and smiling, the smile being the result of his recent injestion of Pepto-Bismal.
Sabertooth was absently staring out one of the windows, and Nate was duplicating the actions of Small.

At long last, the inspector entered, he was average height, wearing a grey tweed suit. His face was long and pinched, and featured a tiny mustach on the grim upper lip, he looked permanemtly soured.
"Yes, and what is it you want this time?" he asked sharply, addressing his question most directly to Nate.
"The truth." answered Small coldly.
"Is this about that murder? A done deal. Lizwrenne is obviously guilty. Small had too many enemies and not enough sense to avoid the wrong people. The way I see it, he hung out with the wrong crowd and paid for it when they turned against him. I told him many times to be more careful. He was, I must admit, a friend of mine."

The lie was worked in so smoothly that no one expressed surprise, but inside, Nate realized that he could trust nothing that this man was saying.

"Inspector," said Small, "Last night, we had a meeting, at that meeting, we decided to discuss the case with you today, so, what explanation do you have for my being attacked by three thugs last night. They tried to kill me."

"It was your own fault for wondering around the wrong parts of the city."
"You're saying that I brought it on myself?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying."
"We were told to check in the M forum," continued Nate, "did your research at all lead in that direction."
"I obviously agree with Stratguitarist, the M forum is a good place to look, Mattslope for instance, he's a suspicious character, besides, it's a well-known fact that all great artists are insane, and around here, he is considered a great artist."
"Ah." said Sabertooth shortly, filing away in his head the fact that they had said nothing about Stratguitarists appearance.
"What," asked Nate, "Is the bail for Lauren?"
"You mean the murder suspect? I have opted to allow no bail. We can't have someone like her wondering around the streets again."
"But 'innocent until proven guilty!'" protested Bass_Girl.
"She has been proven guilty." replied the inspector.
"Sir, did lauren resist at all when she was arrested? And are we allowed to see her?" asked Small.
"She violently resisted arrest, and to answer your second question, no." said the pinch-faced man behind the desk, "Now if you conspiracy-theorists will excuse me, I have work to do."


The group stood confused on the landing in front of the office, unsure of which way was out, when a voice spoke up from beside the door,
"I can show you the way out." said the security guard, a large, musclular man.

Sabertooth noted that Small stiffened visibly at the sight of the man, and all his detective years tipped him onto what to do.
"We can find our way out." he said loudly to the guard, " I recognize it now."
"Oh, it's no problem buddy." answered the guard.
"No. Hate to bother you." replied Small shakily out loud.
The guard shrugged, and returned to his post.
As they made their way down a long flight of stairs, Small whispered just loud enough for the others to hear,
"Don't stop moving, we can talk this over at the diner. Sabertooth, please walk Bass_Girl home, Nate, go back to work. Everyone act normal, but be ready."
So they all obeyed his whispered instructions, and went their separate ways, unaware, that that night would be the turning point....
---excerpt from the autobiography of Small.

[natedawg5280]

wow, good job stepping up an being a leader!

I wasn't trying to be a jerk, just wanted to make sure smalls was okay with it.

[Small]

Originally Posted by natedawg5280

I wasn't trying to be a jerk, just wanted to make sure smalls was okay with it.

And thanks for that...It was getting a little out of hand.

[natedawg5280]

No problem, how's life smalls? Play guitar alot?

[Small]

Yeah, I play guitar a lot, basically as often as I can, but I'm a bit limited by having only an acoustic that works. Technically, my sister is borrowing my cousin's electric, but the cord sucks, and the guitar ain't much better.

Still, I homeschool, so breaks in schoolwork translate into guitar playing. I've only been playing for about a year, and by now I'm working on getting down my pentatonic scales, and all of the theory involved in soloing beyond moving your fingers in a cool pattern on whatever non-note you jolly well please.