Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
This is the Six Sentence Story bloghop.
Denise is our host.
Hey! Let’s jump back to the serial story, ‘the Whitechapel Interlude‘ for a break from our moving-in/redecorating chores at the Six Sentence Cafe & Bistro. To help you get caught up, here’s the link to Chapter 38. While the over-arching narrative is focused on the Order of Lilith’s mission in the Whitechapel neighborhood of 1880s London and a mysterious Count dwelling in an eastern Europe city, there is a branching plot line, (beginning in Chapter 38), that has Brother Abbott returning to a life he would have preferred to leave in his past. Now, as a top-billed performer on the vaudeville circuit, he renews old acquaintances.
Prompt word:
INGREDIENT
“I wasn’t talking to you, I was talking to the dummy.”
“Who are you calling a dummy?”
The late-morning interior of the Théâtre du Vaudeville was empty in the curious way of public buildings, a darkness that seemed possessed of an appetite for any and all sound, only the stage was protected by artificial light; being late morning, when performers were allowed time to rehearse on the broad stage, the sounds of Saturday on the Boulevard des Capucines whispered like an audience before curtain rise, ingredients of a feast lacking only the skill of the chef.
In the center of the stage, two men stood: one adjusting the balance of the one-third-scale man sitting in the crook of his left arm, carved wooden limbs wrapped in a miniature tuxedo and glistening-button eyes; the other, Brother Abbott, remembering one of the reasons he did not regret leaving behind ‘the life’, when he joined the Order of Lilith, even as a pair of glass eyes sought his own.
Nodding towards the card on the tripod left of center stage, vermillion ink, executed in 84 pt Didot lettering, shouted: ‘Monsieur Magnifique and Petit Pierre’; Brother Abbott smiled and pulled at the sleeve of his tailored waistcoat,
“Still not giving the true talent top billing?” after a pause, both men burst into laughter.
Angelique Déchue, polishing the brass rail marking the empty edge of the mezzanine, heard three voices: one thinly enthusiastic, a most wary of welcomes, another raucous and barely-restrained joy and the third, a measured confidence with a subtle undertone of a mature predator; watching only the convex reflections of the two men on the stage below, she crossed herself and clutched the small crucifix resting protectively over her heart.
About clarkscottroger
Ha! Bravo! Thank you, Clark, for allowing me the double delight of being both entertained and scared by my own creations… was not expecting that. Cool!
Excellent to learn that Brother Abbott has a connection to my malevolent duo! Loved the setting… loved the atmosphere… loved the unexpectednessivity* of it all!
*not real word, ay?
You certainly dowsed the right creepy factors too… especially with the remark: “glistening button eyes”. Then… the chilling POV of Angelique: “watching only the convex reflections of the two men on the stage below, she crossed herself and clutched the small crucifix resting protectively over her heart.”
Right, Clark, roight! I’m off to check the guest room at Atomic Mage Towers to make sure Mr M. is still under sedation, and that the trunk containing Petit Pierre is still in its triple-padlocked state. By order! What… what’s that I hear… the lid of the trunk is rattling… wooden fingernails are scraping across steel bolts… and then… no, the stirring of a magician on a bed… his parched voice saying: “What devil has dared to sedate me?” … then… then… then… “Master, let me out of this box… for today we have not only one proprietor at the accursed Six Sentence Café & Bistro to menace… but two!”
Thank you, Mister Atomic mucho appriciato.
always a pleasure to riff off an excellent (rhetorical) riff are your two (or one and a half) characters… (its so true that, besides being fun, doing this cannot help but improve one’s skills at the wordifying.)
See ya down to the Bistro
I love a Vaudeville show as much as the next person, but…no! not that scary little mannequin again. Eish! I’m already creeped out. How long before the dreadful duo escape incarceration in AM Towers and are on the loose, ready to wreak revenge. Bolt all the doors, I’ll be barricading myself in the basement!
~ enjoyed the rendition of my favourite ‘dancing round the handbags’ anthem. Break out those white stilettos, ‘only pop music can save us now’.
what a cover, right?
(it happened, as it often does, we were watching one of our favored tv series and the song came on the background… and I’m all, ‘Damn! Lets find that version and stick it in the post (which at that point was only in the earliest of drafts) and then listening as I wrote
fun
our fellow Proprietor, Ford has ‘gifted’ us with a most disturbing character, no?
Very fun story, the song balanced the six nicely.
Thank you
you are great at mixed media. loved this. Again, James would be proud.
thanks, Paul
you’re no slouch at the serial story thing your-own-self*
borrowed from Dan Jenkins a total master of the regional patios
Nice description: ” ingredients of a feast lacking only the skill of the chef.” I also liked how that small crucifix rested protectively over her heart.
thanks, Frank
yeah, those little touches are fun in a special way… not necessary to ‘write it large’ or involve a change to the plot, but a nice little touch to a character
Threads cross in such unexpected ways here, it’s delightful.
thanks, M
I have to join with Chris Hall on this one :)
;)
What the honorable Proprietors said!
Plus: half an hour ago I wrote at D’s about an exorcism at the SSC&B; half an hour later, I am calling Father Tomassa🤣
Dude!
wrote a ‘Doctrine post’ this morning which hopefully you’re feeling better and could use some low-overhead distractionary reading
My breathing got quite shallow at the end there.
‘…a measured confidence with a subtle undertone of a mature predator…’
Ulp!
And Monsieur Magnifique and Petit Pierre confused me for a bit, until I realised they had wandered into your blog and were undoubtedly not up to any good!
Nice one.
the fun of cross-serial Sixes! This one (crossover) was not overly difficult as Ford has done such an excellent character(s) with Monsieur Magnifique and Petit Pierre.
like the core fundamental metaphor of live, music improvisation, if you start with a great theme, variations are just lined-up and waiting.
thanks
That ending! It got creepy and suspenseful real quick!
(Thanks for the Cake too)
such fun when you stumble over a cover version that adds something to the original that, in ways, becomes a better version
I realize I’m late to this party however, I stand in 1 handed applause. Very nicely done, Clark.
Creepy, most creepy. The horror of the scene gradual, it culminated in a crescendo totally enhanced, imo, by Gloria’s cover playing at low volume in the background.
“I should’ve changed my fucking lock, I would have made you leave your key.”
Wow. Gloria’s version will never fit again…bravo!
ikr?
May be the first time I’ve come across a ‘superior song cover’ in which a minor change, a single word, adds to the enjoyment, perhaps even, increasing the audience of listeners… good geet
you should stop by the Bistro sometime