Post by Enid Knox on Oct 5, 2012 15:08:12 GMT -8
Ooc: Thank you for the comment about Enid but it’s only because she has great interactions from YOUR characters to bounce off. I so totally did not see the ending coming to Shawn’s post. That was a complete OMG moment.
So sorry for your mom. I hope my response doesn't make light of it or offend. I decided to focus on Enid’s response - maybe to heighten the comedy but if you don’t like it I can change it.
Enid took the cider politely and but supped it on receipt. In truth she rarely drank cider as she found it gave her gas in her stomach but coffee only made her highly agitated and on edge for hours on end.
The last time she had coffee she cleared everything out of the store and scrubbed the floor boards with a wire brush and prayed for three hours on end, rocking and jittery the whole time. She had promised to never touch the stuff again. So it was then that she accepted the offer of cider - not commenting on the narrow choice offered but she supposed not everyone was a host like her.
In fairness to the Flannagans they were both being very courteous hosts so Enid had no cause to complain. She listened to the horror of Shawn’s ordeal with the proper degree of sympathy and even a few refrained gasps of shock completely forgetting her total aversion to drinking cider - which did taste refreshing and tasty causing her to sup it more than she would have intended but for the fact that she were enthralled with Shawn’s recount and was savouring not the taste of the cider but the details of the story - so as to retell to others - to put them right about details rather than spread idle gossip mind.
When she asked about the Indian in the bar she did not bother to speak of Shawn’s presence in the bar in the first place - she supposed he wasn't the first or would he be the last man to frequent one. Heck she even had to permit Amos an occasional visit to the bar to keep him in order. But she listened fervently even as her stomach started to gurgle from the cider. Trying to be discrete (for Enid was discretion personified after all) she placed her hand casually across her stomach hoping to soothe the tummy rumbles before they became something worse. Heaven forfend if she were to belch in front of these gentlemen, she’d never live it down and they’d be as like to tell the Pastor who visited them. It would be too much for Enid to bear.
“Yes, Inrid was her name,” Shawn added he was drunk when he shot her. “I was the one who shot her. She deserved. Eye for an eye, tooth for tooth--” Enid was held her tongue and could have quoted Matthew 5:38–5:39 Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth; But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also. When suddenly the undertaker cringed in pain and his left hand crushed the glass of cider.
The glass shattered as his hand clenched into some kind of death grip. Enid could not stop her startled reaction coming out as a strangled scream even as her hand shot to her open mouth. The shock caused her to jump to her feet. Shawn too was up like lightening and raced from the room pumping blood. For a fraction of a second she thought the man had gone mad with the memory and was about to cause bloody murder in a moment of frenzied anger.
She spilled and then dropped her own cider glass with growing fortification from her over reaction. Everything seemed to be happening all at once as she looked down at the cider covering her dress and the blood on the floor and sprayed droplets on her dress too. About to try and excuse and ask after Shawn and try to rescue some sense of propriety from the whole fiasco of the scene Enid opened her mouth and ... belched.
Her fortification was complete and in the instant she forgot even Shawn’s bloodied hand. Both hands shot to cover her mouth. “Oh my ... do excuse ... hiccup! Oh my! Hic!” Suddenly she couldn't stop hiccuping. She gasped with despair at the turn of events wishing the floor would open up and swallow her up. “Mr Flannagan! Hic! Are you - hic - quite all - hic - right - in there? Hic!” she called through to the kitchen.
“Mr Flannagan! Hiccup! Hic! Mr Flannagan,” she turned to Michael and implored, “Fetch .. hiccup ... the doc...hic...tor! Quickly now!” But Enid didn't even note whether the man rushed off to get Doctor Koeing or whether he went on into the kitchen to attend Shawn as she bent over to try and put her head between the cider drenched and blood speckled skirts of her dress. “Oh sweet heav...hic..ens. Hiccup.”
The hiccups wouldn't stop and she had to stand again, the leaning over causing the blood to rush to her head and stumble about drunk. She knocked over her basket of goodies and now her preservatives of joined the floor in a messy smash of glass and jelly. She moaned aloud and trampled on a few of the pastries as she tried to back pedal away from her wreckage.
Enid was now turning in circles in the middle of the sitting room as Shawn remained in the kitchen. She wiped her brow unknowing of what to do, hiccuping the whole time and entreating for God’s help. “Mr Flannagan, hiccup ... I’m coming in ... hic .... are you ... hic ...” she entered and saw Shawn’s opened hand bloodied and torn by the glass with a large shard protruding. Her eyes went wild with alarm.
Her hiccups stopped for a moment such was her shock. “Your hand ... hiccup ... it’s all ... oooo...” Enid now suddenly felt light headed and woozy. “I think I need to ... hic ... actually ... I think I’m going to ...”
(You can decide if Enid faints or if Michael fetches the doctor)
So sorry for your mom. I hope my response doesn't make light of it or offend. I decided to focus on Enid’s response - maybe to heighten the comedy but if you don’t like it I can change it.
Enid took the cider politely and but supped it on receipt. In truth she rarely drank cider as she found it gave her gas in her stomach but coffee only made her highly agitated and on edge for hours on end.
The last time she had coffee she cleared everything out of the store and scrubbed the floor boards with a wire brush and prayed for three hours on end, rocking and jittery the whole time. She had promised to never touch the stuff again. So it was then that she accepted the offer of cider - not commenting on the narrow choice offered but she supposed not everyone was a host like her.
In fairness to the Flannagans they were both being very courteous hosts so Enid had no cause to complain. She listened to the horror of Shawn’s ordeal with the proper degree of sympathy and even a few refrained gasps of shock completely forgetting her total aversion to drinking cider - which did taste refreshing and tasty causing her to sup it more than she would have intended but for the fact that she were enthralled with Shawn’s recount and was savouring not the taste of the cider but the details of the story - so as to retell to others - to put them right about details rather than spread idle gossip mind.
When she asked about the Indian in the bar she did not bother to speak of Shawn’s presence in the bar in the first place - she supposed he wasn't the first or would he be the last man to frequent one. Heck she even had to permit Amos an occasional visit to the bar to keep him in order. But she listened fervently even as her stomach started to gurgle from the cider. Trying to be discrete (for Enid was discretion personified after all) she placed her hand casually across her stomach hoping to soothe the tummy rumbles before they became something worse. Heaven forfend if she were to belch in front of these gentlemen, she’d never live it down and they’d be as like to tell the Pastor who visited them. It would be too much for Enid to bear.
“Yes, Inrid was her name,” Shawn added he was drunk when he shot her. “I was the one who shot her. She deserved. Eye for an eye, tooth for tooth--” Enid was held her tongue and could have quoted Matthew 5:38–5:39 Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth; But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also. When suddenly the undertaker cringed in pain and his left hand crushed the glass of cider.
The glass shattered as his hand clenched into some kind of death grip. Enid could not stop her startled reaction coming out as a strangled scream even as her hand shot to her open mouth. The shock caused her to jump to her feet. Shawn too was up like lightening and raced from the room pumping blood. For a fraction of a second she thought the man had gone mad with the memory and was about to cause bloody murder in a moment of frenzied anger.
She spilled and then dropped her own cider glass with growing fortification from her over reaction. Everything seemed to be happening all at once as she looked down at the cider covering her dress and the blood on the floor and sprayed droplets on her dress too. About to try and excuse and ask after Shawn and try to rescue some sense of propriety from the whole fiasco of the scene Enid opened her mouth and ... belched.
Her fortification was complete and in the instant she forgot even Shawn’s bloodied hand. Both hands shot to cover her mouth. “Oh my ... do excuse ... hiccup! Oh my! Hic!” Suddenly she couldn't stop hiccuping. She gasped with despair at the turn of events wishing the floor would open up and swallow her up. “Mr Flannagan! Hic! Are you - hic - quite all - hic - right - in there? Hic!” she called through to the kitchen.
“Mr Flannagan! Hiccup! Hic! Mr Flannagan,” she turned to Michael and implored, “Fetch .. hiccup ... the doc...hic...tor! Quickly now!” But Enid didn't even note whether the man rushed off to get Doctor Koeing or whether he went on into the kitchen to attend Shawn as she bent over to try and put her head between the cider drenched and blood speckled skirts of her dress. “Oh sweet heav...hic..ens. Hiccup.”
The hiccups wouldn't stop and she had to stand again, the leaning over causing the blood to rush to her head and stumble about drunk. She knocked over her basket of goodies and now her preservatives of joined the floor in a messy smash of glass and jelly. She moaned aloud and trampled on a few of the pastries as she tried to back pedal away from her wreckage.
Enid was now turning in circles in the middle of the sitting room as Shawn remained in the kitchen. She wiped her brow unknowing of what to do, hiccuping the whole time and entreating for God’s help. “Mr Flannagan, hiccup ... I’m coming in ... hic .... are you ... hic ...” she entered and saw Shawn’s opened hand bloodied and torn by the glass with a large shard protruding. Her eyes went wild with alarm.
Her hiccups stopped for a moment such was her shock. “Your hand ... hiccup ... it’s all ... oooo...” Enid now suddenly felt light headed and woozy. “I think I need to ... hic ... actually ... I think I’m going to ...”
(You can decide if Enid faints or if Michael fetches the doctor)
