Talented but Muddled

Art, writing, movies, music... all the stuff I like...
mostly Steam Powered Giraffe

For the haunted room in Walter Manor, I have taken on the fabled Hall of Faces… containing every face Rabbit ever had and a few he hasn’t yet… and one of The Spine’s that he hid once just to be a little piss.
How’s it haunted, you ask? Well, just look at it! Holy Great-Aunt Humma Kavula… There’s like 3 more rows of shelves like these on either side, all containing oxidizing copper faces with no eyes! The place smells like a kid’s coin bank. And only Rabbit seems to know where it is.
They try to haunt it, mind you… the turnover rate is very high for haunts at the Manor. The latest one was a tough old bird who’d been haunting since the early 1960s. It wasn’t impressed with the gig; figured it was all just talk. But it wasn’t fond of loud noises… died in an explosion, see. It’d heard of the Steam Man Band, remembered those sweet melodies and that Rabbit’s voice was especially smooth, even when he took up that rockabilly in the 1950s…
So the poor spirit was roaming the racks without a care, looking at the different faces, wondering why one of them was silver toned, when it heard a voice; someone was moving along the shelves, murmuring little phrases and snatches of songs.
"Well, that’s a change! Well… ahem… well… cough… Good enough. La la la la laaaa…"
He clattered through piles of faces, singing softly; he seemed to be trying to get one bit just right… tried singing sweetly, sing low, singing high… and then out of nowhere, just as he was heading down the very aisle where the ghost lurked, he giggled a little.
"I’ve got it…" he said, and screamed, "Come on and DAAAAAANCE!!!"
The ghost froze in terror just long enough to see Rabbit put his hand on his belly and laugh with giddy satisfaction before it left, never to return.
He missed seeing the robot snatch up a face plate and crow, “There it is! The really simple one! That should freak the fans out… now where’s that copper polish?”
Alright, enough self-indulgence, back to doin’ stuff.

For the haunted room in Walter Manor, I have taken on the fabled Hall of Faces… containing every face Rabbit ever had and a few he hasn’t yet… and one of The Spine’s that he hid once just to be a little piss.

How’s it haunted, you ask? Well, just look at it! Holy Great-Aunt Humma Kavula… There’s like 3 more rows of shelves like these on either side, all containing oxidizing copper faces with no eyes! The place smells like a kid’s coin bank. And only Rabbit seems to know where it is.

They try to haunt it, mind you… the turnover rate is very high for haunts at the Manor. The latest one was a tough old bird who’d been haunting since the early 1960s. It wasn’t impressed with the gig; figured it was all just talk. But it wasn’t fond of loud noises… died in an explosion, see. It’d heard of the Steam Man Band, remembered those sweet melodies and that Rabbit’s voice was especially smooth, even when he took up that rockabilly in the 1950s…

So the poor spirit was roaming the racks without a care, looking at the different faces, wondering why one of them was silver toned, when it heard a voice; someone was moving along the shelves, murmuring little phrases and snatches of songs.

"Well, that’s a change! Well… ahem… well… cough… Good enough. La la la la laaaa…"

He clattered through piles of faces, singing softly; he seemed to be trying to get one bit just right… tried singing sweetly, sing low, singing high… and then out of nowhere, just as he was heading down the very aisle where the ghost lurked, he giggled a little.

"I’ve got it…" he said, and screamed, "Come on and DAAAAAANCE!!!"

The ghost froze in terror just long enough to see Rabbit put his hand on his belly and laugh with giddy satisfaction before it left, never to return.

He missed seeing the robot snatch up a face plate and crow, “There it is! The really simple one! That should freak the fans out… now where’s that copper polish?”

Alright, enough self-indulgence, back to doin’ stuff.

  • 22 October 2013
  • 150