Sigelli was a genius of construction who built living machines out of girls. His first creation, the one that made him famous, was known as the 'Belle Phone,' two girls connected from back to back with a long piece of thread. You'd whisper a secret to one of the girls and immediately the other girl knew, though she stood in the next room, clear out of acoustic range. No one ever deciphered the elegant mechanism. It only worked with secrets. His 'Sigelli Dancers' had shapely figures and patented legs. The group of ten dancing girls could dance sequences of intricate choreography to any music, even atonal classical pieces, which were extremely hard to dance to. It was also fun winding them up. Now he was testing his new creation: The 'Female Slot Machine.' No matter what salacious proposition you fed it with, it never came up with the same three ways of saying maybe.
Story #213
Thanks everyone for contributing! I think the stories turned out great! Stories have been reposted at indeterminacies.blogspot.com.
23 comments:
a) The keepers not willing to outsource to a bunch of monkeys, the three girls were hired to sit in the Zen garden near the Buddah (made in Egypt two months ago) and represent virtue. They however were not issued virtuous costumes, but the work was simple and there was less perspiration than wearing a fur-suit.
b) See no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil... yes. Think some evil, and be some evil... oh yes. The girl that could see no evil was practically showing her evils -- and so good, too.
c) "I hope these three girls give you ideas," said Indie. That's an accurate phrasing. :)
jennifer didn't know about the three monkeys, and thought the game was "peek a boob".
It was about to happen and the three young female robots were shutting down their sense-chips in a peculiar way. They had lived for a long time among humans and their emotion-chips had almost merged into their logic operating system that was running at the core of their electronic brain. But that was “not acceptable” according to the company that constructed them, and they had to be turned off before any further damage would occur in their hardware. Any beholder would have believed that they were almost afraid to be turned off. It looked as if they didn’t want to die. At least that’s what their programmer thought, as he was standing in front of them asking them to deactivate their human drivers. He wanted to avoid the possibility of them feeling any “pain”. He realized that It was not easy for him to kill his own children but he pushed the black button swearing madly that he has gotten too attached to these soulless machines.
Shady refused to say anything. She'd seen and heard enough already. Bright Eyes wouldn't even listen. What she'd seen had terrified her beyond recovery. Smiles was content, as she hadn't seen a thing. And though she led Shady and Bright Eyes to believe that she was as horrified as they were, she was in on the plan all along.
The moaning, groaning male strippers worked with Smiles at the club down the street.
She had expected her friends Shady and Bright Eyes to be thrilled with her surprise. Instead, she giggled to herself at their apparent discomfort, not leading on that she had planned the whole thing.
All their lives the triplets had been forced to physically take steps to avoid evil. "Don't let the Devil into your mind!" their father yelled day after day. "Satan will ruin you!" their mother droned on year after year. The young women's sin avoidance tactics became habits they could not break and were virtually stuck in those positions as they had become addicted to less-than-moral video rentals.
I think Mushie wants to play the game that
Alix suggested.
I found a really interesting blog:
http://postsecret.blogspot.com/
Jamie (and Alix): Yes. See item c) on my list. :) She seems to already know the rules and have the proper equipment and outfit.
Years ago I was reading some magazine of the sort you mentioned (a morals-corrupting one) and the oversized model had the front panels of her bra trimmed off to make them more of a low-budget nursing bra or Fredericks Of Hollywood item. And the caption called it a "peek-a-boob bra". My girlfriend of the time thought that was hilarious.
(and yes, that postcard set is amazing!)
The terrorists kidnapped the three innocent girls, but the girls and the terrorists spoke different languages so they couldn't understand each other. Desperately, the girls tried to convey their thoughts by pantomiming like in a game of charades. The terrorists then put down their guns to take their turn in the game. That's when the girls scrambled away and escaped.
I passed your blog address on to a few blogging friends that enjoy good writing and are good writers themselves. I hope they will join in on all the fun we have here. I truly think this is one of the finest blogs I've come across. Thank You, Indie, for rekindling the joy of writing in me. I had let it go dormant for a long time. I'm enjoying the discussion and participation of this site very much, and I love posting a little nonsense on my blog each day.
The three Smith sisters, Melissa, Veronica, and Tracy have recently become Krovatians, worships of the God Krovate. They have each glued their hands over certain parts of their body in order to prevent them from sinning. Young Melissa on the left has glued her hands over her mouth because she tends to belittle and criticize young children. Veronica has glued her hands to her ears in order for her to not hear the music her neighbor's mariachi band plays when they practice. Krovation's consider all mariachi music evil. The last Smith sister Tracy has glued her hands over her eyes, not for spiritual pureness, but for vanity. Poor Tracy was born without eyes the two gaping holes in her face have bothered her so. No one is for sure why, she can't see them. But it has bothered her none the less, and this seemed like a good way to disguise her deformity.
I just got back and saw everything that was posted. I'm so impressed. You'll see my story tomorrow, but it's nothing all that special, compared to all this. My muse wrote something as well, which I'll post next week, as it still has to be translated.
At first Marina thought the procedure had gone well. The modified clone that Dr. Demento called "Zara" was definitely a magnification of Marina's mysterious side, and the sunglasses were an appropriate touch. "Trina," on the other hand, was every inch the party girl of Marina's dreams, right down to her suggestive tan lines. Finally, Marina would be able to satisfy all three of her boyfriends: Sergei, the double or triple agent, Bubba, the frat boy, and, for Marina's everyday self, Bill, the boy next door.
It was only when she saw Dr. Demento's lips moving with no sound coming out that she realized something had gone horribly wrong. Clapping her hands to her ears, she found SHE HAD NONE. Zara was not covering her mouth to stop herself from laughing at Trina's silliness--SHE HAD NO MOUTH. And Trina, though smiling in a suitably dippy way, HAD NO EYEBALLS.
"Dr. Demento," Marina said, as best she could, not being able to hear herself speak, "Something has gone horribly wrong!"
The good doctor simply shrugged helplessly, then grabbed his phaser and zeroed in on the target he had thoughtfully placed on her T-shirt. Just as he'd expected, this one was trouble. She would have to be eliminated as a lesson to the other two. They could then be trained to help him construct his OWN ideal girl. . . .
No matter what salacious proposition you fed it with, it never came up with the same three ways of saying maybe.
I think I've played that one-armed bandit before... Good story!
THanks for your encouragement mush. I thought my story turned out fairly week. Just wiat til my muse's story gets here.
Yours wasn't weak at all, Indie.
I'm looking forward to your muse's take on the pic.
Hustle it up! I'm curiouser and curiouser.
Thank you Jamie. I'm still waiting for my muse to send me the story she wrote down. She's away this week visiting her parents.
And here is my muse's story:
The prince had to decide which of the three princesses to take as his bride - each had a single perfect quality that would make her the perfect wife: the first princess could not say that which should not be said, the second princess did not hear that which should not be heard, and the last princess did not see that which should not be seen; but which of these qualities was the most important? The prince sat before the three beauties, unable to decide, when his loyal secretary advised him to spend one week with each of the princesses - then he would surely be able to make the right decision. And so that is what the prince did. First the silent princess was given a week to win the prince with her charms. At first the prince was delighted. He could say anything he wanted, without one contrary word from the beauty, but after a week of permanent monologs, the prince desired a partner in conversation. This he received the second week as the blind princess came to him. Hours of conversation filled the young prince's heart with joy, but this was tainted because the sensitive monarch could not bare his feelings without looking his bride in the eyes. How different it was with the third princess, in whose big brown eyes the prince felt himself immersed completely. And she was able to read the declarations of love straight from his lips. Nevertheless, with each of the three princesses there was one thing that was not possible, and this became clear to the prince after the three weeks: He could not hold hands with either of them! And so he confided again in his loyal secretary, who consolingly took the hand of his regent. In that moment the prince suddenly realized - it wasn't a princess he wanted, what he really wanted was a prince.
Omg, omg, omg, I never would have expected that what happened in the end. Somehow I was sure of a happy end. If the prince had met the right girl he would not have turned into a gay :)).
I love this story and long for the day when I'll see it all in a book! Fabulous job!
Indie's muse is quite a writer! I hope she will do this more often. I didn't see that ending coming!!
My muse recently finished her Magister degree in Slavistic, Literary Science and East European studies. I keep encouraging her to write , and she has written a couple of short stories in German for herself, which I thought were good.
She wrote this story, too:
Story #63
You know what they say... all the good ones are married or gay. Or both. The three girls will get their chance with other men, and will tell (not out loud, in one person's case) of What Could Have Been.
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