I'm in a sharing mood tonight, so here's three pages from chapter six or seven in my perpetually unfinished novel. It's a bit of a silly excerpt, but I'm in a bit of a silly mood. It won't make much sense, but enjoy. And, of course, this material is (C) by me, so don't steal or I'll sue. Ha.
An ominous voice announced, "You're watching Nightware with Victoria Maple-Silt." Victoria, solemn in blue blouse, waited for the show's synthesized theme music to die down before she looked directly at the camera.
"In light of the recent discovery at the Kennelton estate, a flood of sexual assault allegations have been mounted against the still-missing Harper Kennelton," Victoria said. She appeared more tense than usual. I imagined her frustration from having Harper on the show so recently. In my mind, she questioned her abilities as a journalist for not seeing that something odd was afoot, that Harper was hiding some nefarious secret, and she was cheated out of the opportunity of revealing that secret to the world.
"On location in the British city of Weymouth is Channel 8 International Correspondent Sydney Phelps with more on the growing scandal. Sydney?" Victoria said. She turned her head right as the screen split in two. Sydney, a prematurely grey-haired man wearing thick-rimmed glasses and a beige turtle neck, appeared beside her.
"Thank you, Victoria," Sydney said. "We're here in Weymouth, Dorset, where Harper Kennelton is believed to have disguised himself as local mascot, a friendly dolphin named Georges, and attempted to have non-consensual intercourse with tourists at the beach."
"It seems very quiet there, Sydney," Victoria said. "Has this revelation affected tourist activity in the area?
"Well Victoriana, it's currently the off-season, and the middle of the night, but if Harper remains at large come the summer time, we could potentially...
I'm in a sharing mood tonight, so here's three pages from chapter six or seven in my perpetually unfinished novel. It's a bit of a silly excerpt, but I'm in a bit of a silly mood. It won't make much sense, but enjoy. And, of course, this material is (C) by me, so don't steal or I'll sue. Ha.
An ominous voice announced, "You're watching Nightware with Victoria Maple-Silt." Victoria, solemn in blue blouse, waited for the show's synthesized theme music to die down before she looked directly at the camera.
"In light of the recent discovery at the Kennelton estate, a flood of sexual assault allegations have been mounted against the still-missing Harper Kennelton," Victoria said. She appeared more tense than usual. I imagined her frustration from having Harper on the show so recently. In my mind, she questioned her abilities as a journalist for not seeing that something odd was afoot, that Harper was hiding some nefarious secret, and she was cheated out of the opportunity of revealing that secret to the world.
"On location in the British city of Weymouth is Channel 8 International Correspondent Sydney Phelps with more on the growing scandal. Sydney?" Victoria said. She turned her head right as the screen split in two. Sydney, a prematurely grey-haired man wearing thick-rimmed glasses and a beige turtle neck, appeared beside her.
"Thank you, Victoria," Sydney said. "We're here in Weymouth, Dorset, where Harper Kennelton is believed to have disguised himself as local mascot, a friendly dolphin named Georges, and attempted to have non-consensual intercourse with tourists at the beach."
"It seems very quiet there, Sydney," Victoria said. "Has this revelation affected tourist activity in the area?
"Well Victoriana, it's currently the off-season, and the middle of the night, but if Harper remains at large come the summer time, we could potentially see the biggest drop-off in beachgoers since Jaws was released in '75."
"I was two that summer," Victoria said, "And let me tell you, you could taste the anxiety on the shores of Martha's Vineyard. Have there been any developments in the Kennelton investigation?"
"Right now, the details are few and far between, but I've learned from local law enforcement that they have resumed talks with last summer's victims, hoping the find to discover new details." Sydney then held up an extremely detailed pencil drawing of an erect penis_an erect human penis_and said, "They have released this new sketch of the assailant's penis. A marine biologist has confirmed that in no one does this resemble a dolphin's penis."
With her mouth agape from Sydney's unexpected reveal, Victoriana threw her hands up in an attempt to block the image of the drawing. "Can we get a blur on this?" she shouted. "Now, please!"
Immediately, the drawing of the penis became heavily pixilated on the screen. Its shape was still distinguishable. They would have done better to have pixilated the entire paper. A pixilated penis was a penis nonetheless.
"Sydney, we can't show that," Victoria said.
"Victoria, we have to show it. British officials are hoping that anyone who has had relations with Kennelton will come forward and provide information in regards to the appearance of his genitals. A toll-free hotline has already been set up."
"This is a primetime network show," Victoria yelled. "We could be fined."
"It's a police sketch," Sydney said, still holding up the pixilated drawing.
"It's a police sketch of an erect penis," Victoria shot back.
A short, nebbish woman entered the frame beside Sydney. "Excuse me, may I say something," she said with a British accent. Her face scrunched as she talked.
"Who's that?" Victoria asked.
"Who are you, exactly?" Sydney asked.
"I'm the sketch artist," the woman said, pulling Sydney's microphone towards her. "I want to emphasize the artist part. I produce is sketch art. And, quite frankly, I'm shocked and offended that you would insist on censoring it."
"Oh, come now," Victoria said. "This isn't about censorship."
"What with all I hear about your liberal media," the scrunchy-face woman continued, "you'd think your viewings would be okay with a drawing of a cock." Both Sydney's and Victoria's eyes were nearing the point of bulging from their heads.
"Ma'am, you can't say cock on American television," Sydney said. When he repeated the offending word, it was beeped out, which wasn't the case when the woman said it."
"Are you [expletive deleted] kiddin' me?" she said. Immediately, the half of the screen with Sydney and the woman disappeared from the screen. Flustered, Victoria wiped her forehead and took a deep breath.
"Live television, folks," Victoria said and let out a weak laugh. "There's nothing... quite like it."
An ominous voice announced, "You're watching Nightware with Victoria Maple-Silt." Victoria, solemn in blue blouse, waited for the show's synthesized theme music to die down before she looked directly at the camera.
"In light of the recent discovery at the Kennelton estate, a flood of sexual assault allegations have been mounted against the still-missing Harper Kennelton," Victoria said. She appeared more tense than usual. I imagined her frustration from having Harper on the show so recently. In my mind, she questioned her abilities as a journalist for not seeing that something odd was afoot, that Harper was hiding some nefarious secret, and she was cheated out of the opportunity of revealing that secret to the world.
"On location in the British city of Weymouth is Channel 8 International Correspondent Sydney Phelps with more on the growing scandal. Sydney?" Victoria said. She turned her head right as the screen split in two. Sydney, a prematurely grey-haired man wearing thick-rimmed glasses and a beige turtle neck, appeared beside her.
"Thank you, Victoria," Sydney said. "We're here in Weymouth, Dorset, where Harper Kennelton is believed to have disguised himself as local mascot, a friendly dolphin named Georges, and attempted to have non-consensual intercourse with tourists at the beach."
"It seems very quiet there, Sydney," Victoria said. "Has this revelation affected tourist activity in the area?
"Well Victoriana, it's currently the off-season, and the middle of the night, but if Harper remains at large come the summer time, we could potentially...