So while Dabbler was cooling his heels in Deja Voodoo's office waiting for that worthy to finally get off his duff and write up the conversation that would resolve the mystery of his sudden lawyer, Mr. Shackleton, Ms. Darkbloom and Ms. Mastioplasty were nefariously busy, closeted with the same poison pen who had destroyed poor F-Cup Fitzgerald's reputation the week before. Rita Skeeter hung on their every word, eagerly misconstruing and recasting all that was said in the worst light possible, at least as far as Dabbler was concerned. As, indeed, the others counted on her doing.
And poor Dabbler was completely oblivious to the axe about to fall. But isn't that always the way of it? After all, this AddVenture is full of boobies, in every sense.
Soon Rita was scuttling back to the Enquirer offices, and shortly thereafter the presses rolled, casting her screaming headlines headlong into the permanent record. The next morning, the offending rag was everywhere, eagerly snatched up by the deluded legions of readers who, like news readers everywhere, labored under the pleasant fantasy that if it was in print it must be the truth....
Eyepopping Eyewitness Exposes All and More!!!!!
(See Page 3 for Palpitating Pictorial!!!!!)
And let's not forget the sidebar, which nailed the point damningly home over the ugliest picture of Dabbler the Enquirer could find (his driver's license photo, naturally):
Would You Trust Your Daughter to Dabbler!!!!!
Dabbler's Penchant for Puny, Prickly Animals Uncovered!!!!!
Court and Defense Completely Cozy, Pouts Prosecution!!!!!
How Slippery Slimeball Hoodwinked Sorry Sucker Sid!!!!!
WHERE IS FAIRNESS!!!!! WHERE IS JUSTICE!!!!!
WHEN IS PRIVILEGE TO BE PITCHED FROM ITS PERCH!!!!!
And What IS it with Those FEET!!!!!
There was much more of the same sort; the dead horse was literally beaten into dog chow. As always in the case of such rags, the headlines and the doctored photographs on the cover carried the story's main burden, there being considerably less meat on the bones of the text (though a pleasingly comfortable amount of the same on those of Ms. Mastioplasty, if the page 3 pictorial was any indication). Still, it couldn't be denied that Rita Skeeter had made the most of what she had heard, and the opinions of most would be formed by the bold banners emblazoned across the masthead anyway. But then, her peculiar talents always had been good headline starters. The preference for five exclamation points over all other end punctuation, even or especially when the phrases pleaded for a question mark, was a particularly personal predilection. As, indeed, was her annoyingly infectious alliteration.
And what of the subject of all this acrimony? Lost in oblivion and the arms of his two damsels -- among his other faults, real or imagined, Dabbler liked to sleep in. It was Dolly, who as an artificial intelligence had comparatively little need of the downtime more corporeal creatures called sleep, who got up first. Dabbler whined slightly at the loss of his pillows, but quickly found the other set (attached to Gidget) and settled right back down.
Men, Dolly thought with an indulgent shake of her head, which sent her hair into a rather enchanting undulation, and went toward the bedroom door.
Go back - Go to the parent episode.
Thu Jun 03 17:01:21 2004
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