::salutes::
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We've set up camp nearby. This area will make for perfect drainage for the latrine the men are digging.
Cheerio!
Tip! Tip!
Cheerio, Five!
Cheerio to the newlyweds!
Well, so far I'm not seeing any ghosting. Anybody else? No sir!
Plus, do you really wnat a zombie preparing your food? Things have a habit of falling off. When this happened in the past, it was the cause of a great deal of excitement, and if I may say so, general disgust. It was looked upon, furthermore, as an unwelcome and non-hygienic intrusion.
::Backs boat up to thread, dumps heaping piles of used rum barrels and cans of Barritt's into emptying thread::
::Pilots a small river boat alongside the thread::
::Shines post::
*Pokes head into thread, looking for Panama Jack. Carries on to threads unknown.*
Guarding the post
Get in shape, soldier! Got to pass that exam! HUP HUP HUP HUP ...
I do home that helps, RaFon.
Madam, I see you are unfamiliar with military order. Picks up poodle, opens can of boot black, begins to polish his boots to an amazing shine.
24. Using poodles for all home cleaning needs.
Sorry, Sir! Was making revision of chapter three, Sir! one...two...three...four...
Sharp intake
On top of it, Mum! Reggie approaches with his steam cleaner and a couple of his canine "sham-wows."
Reggie, hearing the complaining, comes through with a cleaning crew. He also rings the gong for the Ape.
Pardon, Demo. I was distracted with concern for my Poo-Wow™ rags...hey, poodles! You'll bloody get torn up humping a pony that the menagerie is thrashing!
Comes through with the pressurized hose cleaning and moving the jack-menagerie out onto the lawn, as they frolic with the mangled intruders.
Wanders downstairs with his gas-mask on, sees the skunk, opens the window and punts him to another thread. Closes the window and wanders into the kitchen. Overhears Hungry talking about dinner and is seized with a panic attack. Which six o'clock is it? How much did he have to drink last night? After reasurring himself of the time, he shakes his head and wonders, How much did Hungry have to drink last night? and Maybe this is a good morning to skip breakfast... Sets the coffee grinder into action. The grating sounds of the grinder, turned by Jackin' Ape, break the morning silence...
As Hungry's in the kitchen, Reggie rises.
Reggie hands Frat a six-pack of India Pale Ale and a DVD of Young Frankenstein.
Brings Hammer his Shirley Temple, holding the battery acid.
Reggie takes this fact to the carriage house, and returns with a pump. He then pumps all the remaining tribbles full of dipping sauce before launching them. Pull! BLAM!
Oh, thankee kindly, guvn'r. Almost forgot that. Comes running back, picks up the dipping sauce. Returns to catapult. Dip. Pull! BLAM! Dip. Pull! BLAM! The addition to the splatter effect is impressive!
As the delicious scents of Hungry Jack™ products waft through the house from the kitchen, Reggie proceeds to the coffee bar to get the vat of coffee brewing for the Jacks' Monday. Looks like it could be a long week.
Reggie puts down his dust cloth (or is it a poodle?) and pulls a Thompson submachine gun from it's hiding place in a large vase (that PJ collected from one of his many expeditions). He begins spraying the window where the peasant was peeking with bullets.
Walks through the room first spraying with the pressured hose, then returns later with the wet/dry vac.
Uses special attachment to clean his boots. Dobs the fresher of the two attachments in his tin of boot black to condition the boots from any acid damage.
Grabs the two nearest poodles, locks them into the special poodle attachments. Engages the spinning mechanism, throttles the steamer to full power, moves into the hallway, and lowers the attachments, buffing the floor to an incredible sheen. With the S.P.A. system, the steamer converts from a carpet cleaner to a cleaner than can take care of all your flooring needs, mates!
Comes through the room with a steamer carpet cleaner, with special poodle attachments.
Watches in amazement as his fuzzy cloth gets up and walks away after wiping down the bar.
It is so unlike Reggie to slip-up like this. In all his years in the service, and then in service, he has never so heinously neglected his duties. The Jacks still sleeping in after yet another weekend bender, he tip-toes around the house with his set of clock keys, resetting all the clocks to Daylight Savings Time. He hopes none of the Jacks had appointments this morning, because if so, they're all going to miss them. The clocks thus corrected, they all begin to chime NINE.
As Hungry gets things started in the kitchen, Reggie mans the coffee bar, brewing the veritable ocean of coffee (laced with alcohol) that will fuel an army of Jack as they go forth to conquer the weekend.
Reggie continues filling drink orders in the background, even though a broken jaw in one of the recent battles means that he's all wired up and isn't talking. Serves Jacks drinks.
sniff, sniff
Grabbing one of the kegs of Gosling's Black Seal Rum, he launches it after Jack Hammer.
Reggie springs towards Lynora and Big Tex, ankles stiff and toes pointed, his sporran keeping time to the music. And soon it becomes clear that
Who knew that Reggie's original regiment was Scottish?
<Click>
The Jacks' Estate. Who may I ask is calling?
In the distance, a bright reflection catches Jack's eye from across the water. Over at the dock on the Jack estate, the sun reflects off of the SuperJack Airboat, as Reggie services and cleans it.
The thieves brought us beer, eh? Sees that it's Dutch and not Belgian. I think I'll pour this out in the compost heap...just in case...and take this crystal to the Colonel's wizard friend, so that he can deal with it.
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