Thread:PreciousLuna/@comment-30549602-20170513013323/@comment-30549602-20170515035013

Yes Chase, you're quite right to say my comment was not about PL. It wasn't intended to offend, either. When I said, "I believe this is your cue", it was merely my wry way of commenting on the group dynamics in the forum, which at times can be a predictable melodrama featuring the same cast of characters, who (mostly) play their roles to perfection.

Now sssh, the house lights are dimming. The play's about to begin...

WHAT's UNDER THE BRIDGE? A fairy tale as retold by Mrs S. Goat, in one act.

Mrs Fussbutt, disguised as her twin sister Pollyanna, flounces into the spotlight. "Everyone, I have some amazing news about my dear, dear friend Lotte Hothead! Isn't she clever?".

The Trickster, for whom the sound of Mrs F's voice is akin to fingernails down a blackboard, is seen lurking, SL. Spying the opportunity for some mischief, she sets a bag of doggie do on fire, leaves it at Lotte's doorstep, rings the bell loudly and runs away laughing.

Oh dear! Even The Loyal Friend, (who normally appears, mop and bucket in hand to help clean up the mess) draws the line at burning dog poo, and misses her cue completely. (Dammit, I was relying on you).

But Poor Little Lotte doesn't. She answers the door, sees the fire, and steps right on the bag. Oh poop! The smell of it really gets up her nose. Boy is she mad!

[Noises off]

Now lights are flicking on all over the neighbourhood, and women in their nightclothes emerge to see what the fuss is about.

In the ensuing hubbub, Mrs Scapegoat, whose only crime is to point to the guilty party and laugh, gets whacked on the nose for even being in the area. Does she laugh at the burning doggy do? Nope. Does she laugh at poor Lotte? Bzzt, wrong again. No, she laughs because SHE HAS SEEN IT ALL BEFORE and knows what will happen next...

[The sounds of Sirens approaching]

Uh oh, Someone's called the cops. Somehow, by the end of it all, Mrs Scapegoat gets a ticket, the victim is charged with a misdemeanour (potty mouth is so not OK) and the culprit, who is hiding in the wings snickering, gets off with a warning. (Turns out she's got connections).

Now the culprit has hurriedly left town and even the nice cop, who is fed up with sorting out these neighbourhood squabbles, throws her arms in the air and goes away for good.

[Sound of fanfare]

Never mind! Mrs Fussbutt will gladly take on the role of peacekeeper. It's her special ability.

She calls a meeting of the townsfolk, some of whom think to themselves, "Hang on, who was it who started all of this?  Hmm, and the last one .... uh oh. None other than POLLYANNA!  They decide it's maybe best not put her twin in charge of law and order, and resume their lives as before.

So that just leaves Poor Lotte. She is still so sore, her hair is standing on end and smoke is puffing out from her ears. "Someone must pay!" she cries, shaking her fist.

But the Trickster is nowhere to be seen. So instead, Lotte pushes shit through Mrs Scapegoat's letterbox and posts hate mail for all to see on the town bulletin board.

Mrs S would have preferred a kind word. After all, on the night in question, she accepted Lotte's rude accusations with surprising good humour. Oh well, she says, and never mind. There's naught as queer as folk.

[Announcer VO]

And that, boys and girls, was a story all about water and other things that belong under a bridge. Goodnight.