Soap Lotus

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Spatuloso
2/29/2024 11:57pm



I remembered that name -- @Nim Blanksy -- from @Carolinaeuphrosyne's tale from the future. Didn't seem like a real common name. So who was this? Some great grandmother?

"Welcome visitors!" she said, raising a beer on the porch. The towns folks and their kids cheered. Even the tough looking kids on their bikes.

"We don't get many visitors here in Paradise, but when we do, there's a reason. And it's clear you're kindred spirits."

"Awwwwww..." said the audience. Even hard cases on my crew like Little Gnarls and PJ were making doe eyes at our hosts. Burt might have had a tear in his eye. Hugs abounded.

"So we know you're bound to understand something. And that is, we are taking your airships."

Suddenly every one of the townsfolk had drawn a gun out of their overalls and dresses and undershirts and had them pointed at us.

Even the tough looking kids on their bikes.





Spatuloso
4/11/2023 10:41pm



WELCOME TO PARADISE read the weathered sign.

"At least it's not a total ghost town," said Scarred Lil, referring to a group of kids who were parked on their bikes in front of the old grocery store. It's like they were taking our measure, staring us down.

"Any of youse kids knows who calls the shots in this town?" I asked. "We got some primo coconuts we're willing to share with our new friends, if you show us around."

Jimmy the Put Up tossed a couple of coconuts their way. The kids bent down to look at them, seemed satisfied, and put them into the baskets of their bikes.

Then they mounted up and said "C'mon."






Spatuloso
7/31/2022 8:52pm



As much as I appreciated this family reunion, I had a business to run, and my crew was wondering when exactly we'd get back to running that business.

"So, this Paradise..." I asked @Carolinaeuphrosyne, "It's a... town? Some place with a small but vibrant local economy?"

"I'm afraid we don't know," she answered. "We chose it as the site for the dead-drop because it was a pristine archeological site--meaning we hadn't had a chance to start digging it up--so we don't have any information on what life was like there."

I couldn't help but feel that the details of my profession wouldn't go down well with @Carolinaeuphrosyne. And certainly not @Lasso Pout. And, admittedly, after working in tandem with the Bluefin Boys, I can see how extortion gets a bad name. But speaking for myself, as well as Leroy, Burt, Scarred Lil, Jimmy the Put Up, Little Gnarls, and PJ, we didn't know anything else. Or brother @Auto Slops I'd bet.

"By the way," I asked. "Where did @Auto Slops get off to? I haven't seen him for a few days." There were a few ships in our caravan, but not so many to lose sight of a big Bluefin like him.

"He said he'd scout on up ahead and find a clear path to Paradise."

"Oh," I answered. But couldn't help but feel that big blimp might have had something else in mind.






Spatuloso
12/30/2020 10:36pm



Well this was a heck of a family reunion.

There's my little brother--@Lasso Pout, he littlest of us all--caved in on the ground and losing gas fast. And for some reason he's dressed like a cowboy.

And there above him, sitting so perfectly still in the air like only those mercenaries from The Confusion can, is my other little brother, @Auto Slops.

"Well just don't float there, soldier!" I cried. "Direct pressure! Dirigible resuscitation! Triage! Don't they teach you anything useful in military school?"

Auto Slops breaks out of his daze. Then he pops eight tiny metal arms from his undercarriage, and pulls a patch kit from his hold. Gently, he lowers himself down to little Lasso Pout.

In all the mayhem, I hadn't noticed a small band of people on horseback had joined us. Where had they been hiding? Probably at the same dude ranch Lasso Pout and hooked up with. One of them leaps off their horse and races towards Lasso and Auto.

"Bastards! Confusion bastards! Get away from him! Get away from him!" she cries, waving her arms as she runs.






Spatuloso
8/20/2020 11:57pm



This dust is worse than the most exhaust-filled slums in all the cities I've set up business. Everybody on our side knew the secret code signal, but getting our messages through the dust required the street smart ingenuity that only my people could handle. We set up a noise-based system to bring all of our people in line, with Operator Willie's amps and 808s.

All I can do is lead us out the back end of this mess and set up somewhere fresh.

And I see a clear spot up ahead. How convenient.






Spatuloso
4/18/2020 2:55pm



It doesn't do any good asking these bluefin boys from the Confusion where we're going, or why.

"Hey there, big guy. Where're we headed? This isn't the direction I'd spoken about with your, uh... Customer Success Manager."

Nothing but a silent hum from the lead blue blimp.

It's a desert. Nothing but miles and miles of scrub brush and rocky plateaus. I hired the Confusion to help me acquire new markets, for which, by definition, I need markets! With people in them! Functioning economies who can afford to pay for a little extra insurance to make sure things keep running smoothly. We come in, offer our "services," set up our cut on auto-pay, and move on.

But there's nothing out here in this god forsaken desert but rocks and brush and dirt.

And dust. We're a small armada, and the boys at the head must be flying us right into a dust storm, because we're getting caked in it. And it's got a musky tang. I've been a city blimp all my life, but if I'm not mistaken it smells like... cow.

This is not what I hired this muscle for. But at the same time, it feels like a dangerous contract for me to break.

Might be time for a significant business pivot.






Spatuloso
1/1/2020 9:21pm



The hired muscle from the Confusion sure knows their business. They're intimidating just to look at, with their subtly designed aerodynamics, sharp blue fins, and cold expressions. I might have let my ballonets get a little soft running the rackets in Coconutville, and let me tell you these bad boys will make you suck up your gut just from looking at them.

In most situations, their bad-ass looks are more than half the battle. Moving into new markets, floating over their cities, most people scatter and listen to our loudspeaker announcements from the safety of their homes.

"ATTENTION PEOPLE OF [enter town name here]. You are now under the protection of the Coconutville Provisional Governing Authority, with the gracious assistance of The Confusion©. Representatives of the CPGA will be in touch with key members of your community to arrange the protection level you would like to receive from us. Special deals for early signups! Those interested in our special introductory offer, please raise yellow flags outside your businesses and one of our agents will be in touch shortly."

It's only when they put up a struggle that those blue-finned boys really show their stuff. And I'll tell you it's enough to make a hardened street blimp like myself a bit, well, uncomfortable. I mean, I knew these hired mercenaries were tough, but there's just something so... ruthless... and heartless... and... almost mindless... about how efficiently they do their jobs.

And it's not pretty.

Back in Coconutville we ran our rackets with a minimum of rough stuff. It just wasn't necessary. But there's just something in the fins of these blimps that makes me think they enjoy it.

And that's just asking for trouble.







Spatuloso
9/1/2019 10:31pm



"This sounds like some kinda slavery to me. Blimp slavery."

"Oh, no, sir, I assure you. There's no slavery here. Our blimps are merely exceedingly well disciplined. They'd be perfect for someone like you, hoping to create a small fleet on such short notice. They take commands, do whatever you say, but they're also able to make decisions on the field of battle on their own. See? It's that good ol' blimp free will we hear so much about."

I'd been putting out feelers, trying to build the kind of gang we needed to extend our reach beyond Coconutville. We needed firepower. I was enough blimp for one small island, but we needed a whole pirate fleet. So this big private security agency caught wind and flew to our little island, bringing two of their new breed to show me.

"These blimps are professionals. And designed with the most advanced aerodynamics on the market. This is Blueshards tech but with our training behind it. They're perfect soldiers, and they love what they do."

The ships floated stock-still in the air above the gardens at my estate. Silver bodied, blue finned, emblazoned with a curious golden insignia.

"What's that?" I asked.

"What's what?"

"The curious golden insignia there, on the fins."

"Oh, that's our company logo. We're known as The Confusion."






Spatuloso
6/3/2019 10:19pm



It just goes to show that if you just put your mind to it and work hard, anybody can be the kingpin of a criminal empire.

Sure, this criminal empire only encompasses one, coconut palm filled island. But what better an empire than paradise?

Paradise for myself, Leroy, Burt, Scarred Lil, Jimmy the Put Up, Little Gnarls, and PJ that is. Poor Evenander the Psychic didn't make it. Never saw it coming, I'm afraid. Which may speak more to Evenander's shortcomings more than anything else.

But now we've got Coconutville in the palm of our hands. Nothing arrives or leaves the island without our say-so, and you can bet they're willing to say-so to me, when I fly out in my bulging ballonets and bandoliers and give them the heave-to. We pocket our share to offer our protection, and the citizens of Coconutville are the better for it. We run every racket, from fast food to insurance, banking to pharmaceuticals. We make sure everybody gets what they need, and take our fair share for doing the work.

Not sure how long I can take it till the boredom eats me alive.






Spatuloso
12/29/2018 7:24pm



I guess I’ve fallen in with a rough crowd here. Leroy, Burt, Evenander the Psychic, Scarred Lil, Jimmy the Put Up, Little Gnarls, and PJ. They do what it takes to extract a living off the streets here in Coconutville, and what they do isn’t always pretty. I thought by now I’d have a steady job, and an apartment, maybe with a view of the bay... instead we live in the abandoned warehouse district, Evenander pulling them in, Little Gnarls holding them up, PJ going in for the bag and tossing it up in the air to me on a flyby. We meet back at our latest flop and divvy it out, making a meal out of whatever Burt and Scarred Lil can scrape up and Leroy dishing it out.

It’s not the life I meant to choose, but at least I’ve got a posse.






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