In Which Twitter Is The Driving Force Behind A Story

January 1st, 2011 by Jules Leave a reply »

A little bit of a back story before I get to the piece of hilarity. There are these three humans who I have the awesome fortune of working with at The Force 925. Their names are: Joe ‘Covenant’ Lamb (@JoeCovenant) (you should be familiar with Joe by now), Megan Allen (@mAyalaAllen) and Orev Deniker (@Aziraphel).

Let’s just say there was some banter between the 4 of us. Megan turned this banter into a story. And it is AWESOME! We are hoping to record this story (the 4 of us, reading our own parts) and then she will broadcast it on the station. At which point, the audio will be made available (if it gets done. PLEASE let it get done).

I realize some of you are not familiar with all the “characters” involved. But I think this story is very entertaining, even if you do not know the people behind the “characters.” What makes the story even more awesome, it was written around a flurry of tweets we were sending to each other.

So without further ado:

Viking Angst by Megan Allen

“Viking angst!” Both women in the room jumped in their seats at the quite surprising entrance of Joe. “I hope it leads to Viking death.”

“My Pirate angst sometimes leads to Pirate death,” Megan shrugged a little. “Why are you here instead of making this Viking angst happen?”

“Father Ted,” was the only reply.

Jules clicked in her tongue as she shook her head. “You should be writing, Joe.” She got That look on her face and even Megan had to look away.

“I feel like I should be writing now, and I’m not the one who said I was going to write,” she mumbled as she looked back down at her e-reader. “That look, it’s the look a mother.”

“I’m immune to it,” Joe declared.

“Balls!” Jules head shot up and she pointed at Joe. Megan bit her lip from laughing at the matching look that Joe somehow managed to imitate Jules exactly. Suddenly a battle of expressions erupted. The two competitors stood up from their seats, and took to the middle of the room.

Megan blinked, then looked back at the silent Orev in the corner. He only raised an eyebrow and shrugged, then both turned back to the unusual display taking place. Jules scrunched up her brows and her mouth opened slightly, as if to say, ‘What the-?’ Joe tilted his head a little, pointed at Jules, then pointed at his shirt. The two on-lookers tilted their heads quizzically.

‘Josephology: The study of Joe’ was what was printed, and no words were needed.

“I could end this easily,” Megan muttered to no one in particular. Putting down her e-reader she stood up from her chair and walked over to stand between the two combatants. Pulling out a pair of sunglasses from jacket pocket she suddenly turned to the side, tilted her head down, put the sunglasses on and put her hands on her hips.

Joe and Jules exchanged, another, expression, and looked over at Megan. “I think that,” Megan looked up slightly taking off the sunglasses, “I win the game.” She quickly walked off.

“Yeooooooow!” Orev yelled from the corner, playing the air guitar.

Jules suddenly pointed her finger, directing a rather nefarious look towards Megan. “Blasphemer!” Joe was speechless, not sure how to react to the freakish display that just occurred, and Megan was secretly glad.

“I should get back to writing,” Joe finally sputtered out.

“Happy killing and brutality!” Jules smiled and waved as Joe started to sulk away.

“Oh gods, what have I gotten myself into,” Orev said from his chair, his eyes glued to the screen of his laptop, messing with his playlist.

“I did warn you when I interviewed you,” Jules told him, grabbing a cup that was filled with coffee. “This station is loads of insanity and fun.”

“Welcome to the family!” Megan slid back into the room, sans sunglasses, her arms spread wide.

“Run,” Joe voiced echoed from the hallway, where he had stopped. “While you still have time,…. Run!” All three occupants of the room turned to look at the man standing in the opening of the archway. “You’re young, you still have a chance to live!”

“I’m 23, what about me?” Megan put an hand on her hip. Joe looked at her and shook his head discouragingly.

“You’re even Younger. But then again, young also means foolish, so you sadly don’t know any better.” He gave a mournful sigh. “Of course, when I was 23, I wasn’t young at all.” A sly grin crossed his face.

“You are so bloody full of it, Joe!” Jules didn’t bother to look at her friend as she drank some of her coffee, thinking about her to-do list that needed to be completed.

“Just because, Joe,” Orev spoke up, “you are too old and wizened to appreciate these fine ladies,…” he trailed off, knowing that he had gotten his point across.

“Not at all,” the older Scotsman rebuttled. “I just don’t need to flatter them quite so blatantly. As some of us do,” he coughed lightly.

Megan studiously ignored the men and Jules bit her tongue. “Go kill me some Vikings.”

“Viking Death!” Megan yelled out suddenly.

“Hmmm.. what to call this pagan who is about to get skinned alive….” Joe tapped his chin. “Ah! I know… “Orev waited, weeping like a newborn infant as they slowly-“”

“I demand likeness rights!” Orev interrupted the story.

“Bring on blood and violence!” Jules exclaimed, breaking up the two men. Joe started to mutter burning arrows, and curling smoke and the stench of burning flesh.

Megan sat down next to Jules, a knowing grin on her face as she pulled out her own laptop, opening a blank document.

“What exactly are you going to do with that?” Jules raised an eyebrow.

“I can write something, and I bet any money, that those two will say what I write.” She grinned as she started to type, her fingers flying across the keys.

“Look, Joe.” chimed in the ruggedly handsome Orev from the corner, looking briefly up from his playlist. Jules snorted and quickly clapped her hands over her mouth.

“Sorry, Orev,” replied Joe.. “I ‘like’ you and all.. Just not in the way you want me to…”

“I would stop there,” Jules suggested, try not to cough up her coffee from all the laughing she was attempting to keep down. “This has the potential to turn ugly,… for them.”

“I will simply have to console myself with the fact that I am vastly prettier than you,” Orev pronounced.

Megan and Jules looked at each other. “I didn’t write that.”

“I have to say,…” Jules started, not sure whether to shake her head or not. “Men should Not be pretty.”

“Exactly!” Joe stuck his finger up in the air in triumph. “Again, I win!”

“You won a long time ago, Joe, you know this,” Jules leaned back against the couch, holding the mug of still, somehow, warm coffee in her hand. “But that does not mean that you two should stop.” She grinned, mostly to herself. “It gives me pleasure.”

“Geeky pleasure.” Megan threw in.

“That was bad,” Jules snorted.

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2 comments

  1. Good to hear the station crew is jelling together. I’ll have to sample the new wares when you go up today!

    Good luck!

    and Joe knows, you can NEVER win The Game. You can only hope to stave off losing for a while.

    • Jules says:

      We are jelling quite nicely. Our staff meetings are a wee bit insane as a result, but the good kind of insane.

      You should tune in, Tom. It will be a lot of fun. The first day is going to be a tad bit informal but it going to kick ass.