Part 5

It would seem that I’m completely unable to write anything about The Red Basin at home, and must do it all at work. I guess I’m not nearly as bored when I’m at home as I am when I’m at work. Oh well, I’ve been on days off for the last two days, but I’m back at work, with nothing to do, you lucky reader. You get another installment of The Red Basin! Now here’s the challenge that I’m facing right now though. Should I continue on with the side-story concerning Princess? Or should I return to Noah and Emily on their way to get some tables at Donnie’s Discount Tablery? Oh the choices! Oh the Choices! OOOHHH THE CHOICESSS! I chose. I’m going to continue with Princess. She’s way more interesting, and has the cool crown and servants going on. So there you have it, an uninteresting introduction to the third story installment of The Red Basin. Lay off, I can’t be entertaining all friggin’ day long.


Chapter 2 (not Chapter 1C, which would be lame)


There was a rush of air and a loud grinding as the stone slabs crunched shut behind Princess, Darian and the Corgi Bros.. The four dogs made their way down the tunnel, their dog-vision making the nearly lightless passage seem bright and welcoming. They traveled in silence for a short while, walking quickly down the twisting tunnel as they made their way down into the depths of the Cold Storage building. After some time, the dogs noticed the tunnel growing brighter, as the approached some brilliant light source farther down the tunnel. After more walking, and around jut one more corner, the troupe passed out of the tunnel into the brilliant lit halls of The Four-Legged City.
The Four-Legged City was founded years ago by the dog Muzzle, and his five companions. These brave canines were revered by the nearly all of the one hundred thousand inhabitants of The Four-Legged City. Muzzles five companions included Rex the Redeemer, Cody the Everloving, Sergeant Ralph, Shiva Swiftrunner and Max the Deceiver. Tales of mystery surround Max The Deceiver, and he was generally considered responsible for The Great Dog Exile that took place hundreds of years ago, when he bit his human friend and then covered his tail with a veil of lies and secrecy. Nevertheless though, he was a founding member of The Four Legged City.
The city, buried deep beneath the human city, was amazingly designed, and consisted of six levels connected by sets of spiral ramps or staircases. All of these levels were open in the middle, giving the dogs on them a view of a marvelously sculpted fountain, depicting the Founding Six in the middle of the bottom level courtyard. The city had everything anyone could want. Market places, shops, recreation, parks, houses business sectors, the works! All these things could be found sprawling over their borders and meshing into the other levels of the grand city. The uppermost level was a courtyard filled with statues of previous rulers of the city and fountains of marble and gold surrounding a large opal coloured palace. Corgi’s armed in the finest canine steel patrolled this level, for it was only accessible to those of royal, counsel or military business. Princess looked up at the fountain in the bottom level courtyard.
“Too long have I been away, my brothers.” Princess sighed, watching some pups playing near the fountain, their mother keeping a close watch. Princess’s eyes lingered on them for a second, then she shook her head and sighed again.
“Your people need you right now, milady. Dark times are coming, and you need to put their minds at ease. Rumors that The Red Basin [well, there it is, the first mention of The Red Basin. Bet you didn’t’ think it would even get added this entry, did you?” has been found have found their way to the townsfolk, and there is much fearful talk in the streets.” Darian spoke the words quietly, not wishing any of the nearby dogs to hear him mention such talk.
“I know, my general. I must speak with the counsel, forthwith.” Princess stiffened her posture and began the journey up to the top level of the city. As she passed the townsfolk, they all looked to her with quiet, frightened faces. How much Princess wished she could tell them that the rumors they had heard were false! But she was a queen, and to spread false hope wasn’t her duty. It was to keep her people safe from danger, and this is exactly what she meant to do. After their short path up to the palace was nearing its end, the four noticed that they had a fairly large crowd following close behind them, all shaky and wide eyed dogs, watching their queen with great interest. Princess turned and addressed them as she got to the palace gates.
“You are all to return to your lives. If there is a need for it, I will call a grand meeting and inform you of what must be done. Now, go back to your homes or businesses! Go on now! Go home!” The dogs slowly filtered back down to their homes, but Princess had done nothing to alleviate their fears. The gates were opened up by a pair of burly mastiffs, both dressed in the royal guard uniforms, and Princess, followed closely by the Corgi Bros. walked up the long courtyard to the palace doors. Darian nodded to the mastiffs and shouted to Princess’ back to her.
“Milady! I shall return before the morning to bring what news I may find!” He then lowered his posture and darted off into the streets, searching for some kind of relief to his peoples worries. The palace gates swung open and three finely dressed dogs; a poodle, greyhound and an elderly corgi scurried down the palace steps to meet Princess flanked by two vicious looking bulldogs.
“Your majesty!” squeaked the poodle “you have been gone longer than expected! We have grave news!”
“We shall discuss it in the war room, Percy, this is not the place.” She then looked at the greyhound and corgi and said “Gwen, General Stein” to the two respectively. “Call the other counsel members to the war room, and have the workers bring up plenty of dishes of water. This will be a long meeting.”

Noah stumbled down the rusting stairs toward toe door of the building. He was covered with sweat, and his arms ached from having to carry The G Bomb down all the way from the fifth story.
“Dammit The G Bomb, why do I always have to carry you up and down stairs? You have rocket feet!” Noah pouted as they reached the bottom of their journey down. As if in silent response, The G Bomb briefly activated his rocket feet, scorching the front of Noah’s shirt and causing him to shout out in surprise and pain. He dropped The G Bomb who landed with a loud clunk on his side. His eye plate lit up and his raspy, mechanical voice belched out
“The infidel will return me to upright!”. Emily giggled at Noah as she passed him and went through the big metal door to the street outside.
“This is the last time I’m picking you up, The G Bomb!” Noah groaned as he set the robot back onto its tracks. He then followed Emily out the door, but just as it was closing, he turned to see The G Bomb sitting at the exit, unmoving. “What now?” Noah asked.
“This doorway has a lip. I require immediate extraction.” Noah sighed and tugged The G Bomb out of the building, where It hummed off in front of him after Emily.
“Stupid robot, make me look like an idiot.” Noah closed the building door and headed off to catch up. He hadn’t gone more than a few steps when he heard Emily shout out.
“Princess! Where’s Princess?” Noah scurried around the corner to see Emily standing over the shattered window her car. There was blood and broken glass scattered everywhere. “Princess! Where are you?” Emily cried out, not really expecting an answer. Noah put his hand on Emily’s shoulder and said “It was probably quick and painless, or at least quick.” Emily swatted his hand off her shoulder and sobbed into her hands. “The G Bomb, Can you do a DNA scan on the blood to see if it‘s Princess’?” Emily sputtered.
“No.” The G Bomb retorted.
“Oh, ok.” Emily said. “I didn’t really think you would.” Noah put his hands in his pockets and looked at the car. What a mess. After a minute or so, Noah said
“Emily, we have a job to do. Princess wouldn’t have wanted us to be late, just on her account. She was a good annoying little dog, as far as annoying little dogs go, and I’m sure that she’s in a better place.” Noah got Emily on her feet, who then rubbed her eyes and straightened her posture and, sniffling, but not crying, said
“You’re right, Noah, although speeches about being late are kind of useless coming from you.” She went around to the driver seat and opened the door. “Let’s go.” Noah opened the back passenger door for The G Bomb, who made no move to get in. Noah sighed, and heaved the small robot into the back seat, bumping his head rather hard in the process. Rubbing his sore noggin, Noah sat down on the broken glass and blood in the passenger seat, and the three were off, on their daring mission to liberate tables from Donnie’s Discount Tablery!


Snap. That was a long entry. Not the best as far as writing goes, but it has a lot of story crammed into it. Be sure that the Founding Six will come into play, as well as The G Bomb. Who is getting pretty funny, I might add. Oh, and by the way, I do apologize for the lack of hilarious material in this one. This chapter is taking a bit of a serious turn, but more assurances from me, the next one will be a blast, with great new characters, hilarious circumstances, and maybe some martial arts battle sequences! But not likely! Anyways! Go away!

Part 4

Well I’ll be damned... I have nothing to do at work. I’ve been able to churn out two entries to The Red Basin, and have been pretty much free to do so all day, so I thought, it’s already a two-fer, why not try for a three-fer (which I can say, because it’s a word, weather you like it or not.) Now, last time I wrote something (about 2.30 hours ago, it was about how our Hero, or at least our Character, Noah, had been late for work, made it, on his way out, etc. Seems that he had a mix-up with a shirt or something, whatever. Not worth repeating. You’re probably sitting there like an apple thinking to yourself “Where’s The Red Basin?”, and I am in fact here to ease your thoughts. The Red Basin, however important to this tales direction, will not show up in this entry either. Unfortunately you (but not I, the creator of The Red Basin) will have to wait until the entry right after this one to see The Red Basin in action. This entry will focus on a second principal character in the Grand Skeem of Things. That character is none other than the one you were lease likely to imagine as a main character in this grand tale (no, I don’t mean Sven Ploon. What a good name though!). It’s Princess, the dog. Princess, as you well know, has been sitting in Emily’s car for the past 3 hours. Or has she (she hasn’t, by the way)? Anyways, this bitch (Princess, not your poor ol’ Aunt Myrtle) is off gallivanting, while Emily was waiting in the empty room for Noah. (I take it back, Myrtle is a bitch still, and always will be). For this entry, we begin in Emily’s car.

Take it away, Craig!

Well, here’s an unfortunate coincidence. Not only has poor princess been locked up in this car for the last 20 minutes (yes, this chapter starts BEFORE the last one ended! What skilled writing skills!) but it was 35 degrees out, and the sun was roasting the poor dog. Princess sat on the passenger seat of the small rusting car, staring out the window, begging to be let out. Her fur was beginning to get matted from the sweat, and her small crown was beginning to weigh heavily on her head (the dog wears a crown. It'll come into play later). She pressed her nose to the very top of the window, where it was opened a crack, and tried to get at some of that fresh air. No dice for poor little Princess. One last shot at getting some air, and she was sitting back on the seat, panting like a German Schoolboy (that comment there makes no sense at all). Suddenly, and out of nowhere (I mean, suddenly, from outside the car) a shadow engulfed Princess, and she looked up to see a horridly ugly face staring down through the window at her. The face was fat and hairy, and covered in what Princess would have guessed to be spicy mustard. The man (it was in fact a man, Sven Ploon, to be painfully specific) pressed his dirty face and looked at Princess through the glass. After what the terrified Princess thought was about 16 seconds (which it was) he let out a strange, low growl-like sound, sending spittle skittering down the window. Princess withdrew slightly, as the creature pressed his face harder against the glass. Princess was beginning to get afraid of this ghoul, and hopped over to the driver seat to avoid his glare. The man kept staring though, and pushing his head harder and harder against the car window, until suddenly there was a loud crash, making princess jump. The man’s face had pressed the window past its breaking point, and he plunged into the car, scattering broken glass everywhere. Princess barked at the man, who, being rather stunned, removed his bleeding head from the car and pretending to look calm and collected, strode off, whistling to himself (I believe it was the star wars theme?). He then tripped over a newspaper and fell down an uncovered manhole which was then covered up by a city worker that was doing maintenance. (I just don’t feel like talking about this bastard anymore). Princess, shaken, but not stirred, gasped at the sudden flow of cool air coming to the car. What a relief! But she still didn’t want to sit in this apparently public deathtrap anymore, so out the window she went, doing her best to avoid broken glass and bloodstains.
Princess, you see, is more than just a dog. Or at least, all dogs (and some cats) in the universe of The Red Basin are smarter and more human like than (what we think) the animals we have here in Real World Land. Princess knew some other dogs in this area of town, and was sure that Noah (whom she had learned to never expect to be on time) would be at least another two hours and forty minutes (which is exactly accurate. See? The dogs here ARE smart!). After about 5 minutes of walking down the dirty street, Princess came up to an alley that ran between an old abandoned Cold Storage building, and a large Shopping Centre (not a mall, but more of a strip-mall type place, with like a suit store or some kind of dollar mart or something). Princess strode down the alley, which became darker and darker as she went, until all those without doggy vision would be blind. She reached the end of the alley, which had an interesting carving on a large stone tablet situated next to the back wall of the Cold Storage building. After checking to see if she had been followed, Princess barked three times, and the outline of the carving began to glow, incredibly faintly, slowly increasing in luminosity until it was enough to read Bazooka Joe comics by. The carving then began giving off a low hum, which (almost like the light, only with volume) got louder and louder until it was a steady growl coming from the wall. Princess sat on her haunches, and watched the carving as it slowly slid apart, one side to the left, one to the right, revealing an opening into the side of the cold storage. Some smoke or something (for effect) gushed out of the opening, and once it had settles, a German Shepard followed closely by two Corgis strode out toward Princess. The three dogs were all suited up in fine sets of shining armor, the German Shepard wearing a tabard of fine silk, and the Corgis with helmets of dazzling silver, with large peacock plumes atop them.
“My Liege!” growled the German Shepard, ad he and his cohorts dipped into low bows.
“Arise, my soldiers, you need not bow before me. Darian, The Corgi Bros., I may be your queen, but am I not still your friend?” Princess walked up to each of them and nudged their eyes back onto her. “Come my faithful hounds, we have much to discuss.”

Oh, man. That was some fine writing, I must say. It gave me Goosebumps! Those dogs, what a team. And who would have thought that Princess was actually a queen! (I mean seriously, her name is Princess, not Queen.) And what a cliffhanger! I’m more than 100% sure that you’ll be coming back to read the next installment. It’ll be a good one. And of course, hopefully you didn’t forget that that’s the installment where The Red Basin comes into play! You did forget? You fool…. No matter, you’ll heal.
Anyways, like I said before, you just wasted your time. Now, go to bed or something.

Part 3

I’m sick of introductions and prologues. I’ve written both parts of a one part intro, and it’s almost made me not want to continue this masterpiece. But, I shall preserver. Anyways, this is the first chapter of The Red Basin, and it’s going to be a good one, possibly seeding ideas for a good two. Now, I don’t know how I’m going to write this story.. weather I have it as a descriptive type thing (eg. Noah got up and stretched lazily. The sun peeked through his half-shut blinds like the little Australian man who usually did the same.) or if I’ll possibly do it first person, through the perspective of Noah (eg. I got up and stretched lazily. The sun peeked through my half-shut blinds like the little Australian man who usually did the same.). Either way is entertaining, and neither should be put to rest… except that I think the first person one is useless and gone. Guess it’s third person for us! Well. Here we go…


Our Story Begins….


Noah got up and stretched lazily. The sun peeked through his half-shut blinds like the little Australian man who usually did the same. It was eleven o’clock, on a Tuesday. This particular Tuesday was situated near the end of the month of October. Noah looked at his Puppies-and-Kitties wall- calendar, and became aware of the fact that I just dictated to you. This months picture was an adorable little kitten, tan in colour, sitting in a carved out pumpkin. Noah stretched again, and sat up, then, reaching for a pair of previously discarded pants and slid them on over his pale underpants. After his pants were pretty much secured on, he scratched his messy hair and called out “The G Bomb! Get me some coffee, please!” There was the sound of atomic powered gears going into motion, and a buzzing as the short robot The G Bomb rolled into Noah’s room, crunching CD cases and dirty laundry in his direct path to his summoner. “Dark please, The G Bomb, with two sugar.” The robot hummed and vibrated a bit, then a small, pleasant-sounding bell went off, and his chest cabinet opened up revealing a piping hot cup of coffee. Noah reached for it, and as his hand was nearly on the cup, the robot backed up slightly, making Noah tumble out of his bed onto the floor, breaking more CD cases in the process. “Ugh..” Noah crawled back onto the bed and rubbed his elbow, which had taken the brunt of his spill, and snatched up the cup of coffee from the now stationary robot. Once again rubbing his elbow, Noah took a sip of his coffee. Mid sip, however, his face scrunched up into a frown, and he looked over at The G Bomb “This coffee is awful!” The robot began humming again, and its eye-plate lit up red.
“I will annihilate you!” it rasped, in its buzzing metallic voice.
“Yea, yea, I know you will.” Noah sighed, pouring the coffee into a fishbowl on the ground and putting the now empty cup into the overflowing trash can. “Just go get the mail.” The G Bomb hummed and rolled out of the room, making sure to knock over the coffee-filled fish bowl as it went. Noah gave another long sigh and put an old John Lennon t-shirt over the puddle. “Well, I guess it’s off to work for me.” Noah stood up and looked around his room, once again tending his elbow. What should I wear? It’s my first day at my new job, and I want to impress them. Noah scanned the room again, this time his eyes came to rest on the open (and very empty) closet, and, for the third time this morning, Noah let out a long sigh.

“Where’s Noah?” a young girl, who in fact was the only young girl I’ve introduced (Emily Watson) asked the empty room, as she paced back and forth. Noah was over three hours late, which wasn’t that unusual, but this time it was the fact that he was three hours late for his first day at work that bothered Emily. Amazingly (which I can fit in any time I want, being the god and creator of this story) the door to the bare room squeaked open and Noah entered, looking slightly disheveled followed closely by The G Bomb. “What are you doing here so late Noah!? I’ve been here for almost-.” She stopped mid sentence as she got a closer look at Noah. “What happened to you?” Her eyes examined Noah’s shirt, which seemed to be covered in a large coffee stain. “Missed your mouth?” she asked, with a slight smile.
“Hilarious.” Noah groaned. “my robot was acting up, and I didn’t have any clean cloths, so I had to wear this shirt.”
“That was your cleanest shirt?”
“Well, yea.” Noah said, without looking Emily in the face. She stood and looked at Noah for a second longer, than shook her head.
“Anyways, we have a job to do. I got a call from Jason [seems like I’ve used four characters already!] and he needs us to go across town and pick up some tables for him at Donny’s Discount Tablery. He said something about fancy white trimmed ones or something? I don’t know. But yea, we have to go get them, so we can get paid. You remember what getting paid is, right? It’s where someone gives you money so you can do laundry maybe? Or perhaps buy deodorant?”
“I smell just fine, you whore.” retorted Noah, giving himself a quick sniff. “I smell like Kenyan Dark, with two sugar. That’s a fine smell!”
“Incorrect. You disgust all.” The G Bomb commented.
“I really need to get that thing fixed.” Noah shrugged.
“Right. Well. Whatever, we still need to get going. I left Princess [that’s five characters!] in the car, and she doesn’t like to be left alone for more than ten minutes, let alone three hours! Let’s go!” Emily commanded as she pointed out the door. Noah grumbled and turned to walk out, but without budging The G Bomb held its ground and Noah banged his shin into the small robot. After a second collecting himself, Noah proceeded to go around the stubborn machine after which The G Bomb hummed alive and rolled along behind him, Emily following close in tow…

Well, there’s the beginning of chapter one. I don’t want it to be too long, and I don’t feel like writing any more right now, but it’s getting better, I must say. The story is now in motion! Noah, Emily and The G Bomb are on their way to Emily’s car to get Princess and be on their way to Donny’s Discount Tablery. The next part of this chapter, will introduce Princess as a fairly major player in the Grand Skeem of things, and possibly even make you weep, it’s so touching.
Hope that was satisfactory, it will improve until you cry every time you think about The Red Basin.
Anyways, go do something productive now, you slacker!

Part 2

So as I sit here at work, gleaning a story out of my previous entry, I came to a startling realization: Character descriptions are boring, and can go to hell. I’ll simply list some characters now (in order of height) and some of their prominent features/relationships with other characters. Maybe after I get this damn dirty anti-blog out of my system, I can finally begin the actual STORY concerning the Red Basin. Anyhow, these are the characters.

Noah Robbering – Shortest character, but not by much. Also, coincidentally, the main character. Noah is a young boy of no more than… possibly 15, although I’m sure my opinion and description of him will change once the story starts. He’s blonde, maybe, and has a pierced ear? No, that’s not good. We’ll say that he doesn’t have a pierced ear, but some type of scar, maybe on his face. Enough about this little thing though, I don’t feel like adding more about him.
So there you have it, the main character, although already I think I’m going to upgrade his age to about 25. 15 is too young to be interesting. And he’s not blonde anymore. He has brown hair. Also, since I’m changing him, he won’t be the shortest anymore. He’ll be the fifth shortest.
Emily Watson – This girl is the protagonist’s sidekick. She’s a little bit shorter than him. In general, she’s always in good humor, and goes about solving mysteries in her free time, very akin to Penny Gadget (from the epically popular Inspector Gadget series). Her attitudes and appearance are very different though, and she’s not juvenile and annoying like Penny, but moderately mature and has a more realistic outlook on things. She has a small dog (the kind suitable for putting in a purse or handbag) whose name is Princess, and is known more or less as a cliché. The dog won’t come into play terribly often although I’m sure I can fit it into some devious sub-plot or side-story. Possibly aliens. Anyways, Emily can be described as cute, because honestly, who wants to hear a story about an ugly or unattractive person? Unless that person is being used for comic relief, or the story is one so unserious that people won’t care weather the person is ugly or not. This brings me to my next character, whom I just came up with from my own inspiration.
Sven Ploon – Sven is ugly. And fat. He’s a big fat ugly guy, who no one really likes to hang out with, because of the previous description of him. Like I said, nobody wants to read a story about an ugly person, unless he’s for comic relief. Which is all that this smelly wad of flesh good for. End of description. (apart from this little ditty about his name being funny. Sven Ploon.. Man I’m clever!)
Carlos Runningwater – This gentleman is rather svelte. Stemming from a long line of rich, greasy people, Carlos is a menace to society. Only in the sense that he’s useless and thinks he’s not, and that he’s rather unpleasant to smell or be around. Having spent all his inherited money on a ludicrously overpriced tattoo on his chest/back/shoulders/arms/legs, Carlos also used up his fortune on a lifetime supply of brill cream, so his short dark hair is in a constant state of slicked-back. He’ll come up in the story more often as an information provider or kneecap buster. His physical strength is rather meek, but his leather jacket and pants cover up his frame well enough to make him intimidating.
Vegan Sans – This character has been added simply for the sake of an having an additional character. I’ll describe him when I feel the need.
The G Bomb – This character has been added due to a certain other person existing on the internet. He has requested that a character made in his liking be added to the story, and so it shall be. I, however get to choose this character’s description, behavior, and whatever else I want in order for him to be in the tale of The Red Basin. The G Bomb is an atomically powered robot. His powers include x-ray vision, rocket feet, and of course, a coffee machine in his chest. He owned by Noah and used sort of as a second sidekick (or a sidekickick, which is the technical term.). His creator, Dr. Enthusio, made him to be the ultimate killing machine, but after having created him, he realized that this little robot wasn’t equipped with anything to achieve such killing (except perhaps educing cancer with prolonged exposure to his x-ray vision). So long story shortened slightly, The G Bomb is menacing, and hates all humans, but can’t do anything about it, and no one takes him seriously. What a drag, you poor little robot.
Dr. Enthusio – Seeing how I just made this character up from the previous mention of a Dr., I’ll have to describe him, won’t I? Well, we’ll be quick about it, my coffee’s getting cold. Colder. Well, he’s a scientist of the fairly mad persuasion, and wears… black with purple trim? French cuffs on his shirt with eyeball cufflinks. Crazy hair, glasses, the whole deal. Yea. He had a son who died or something, and made The G Bomb as a replacement maybe. I don’t care. He’s going to be a villain of some sort, I guess, but he may be just a kindly old man who’s misunderstood (unlikely, that’s boring). There we have it. Dr. Enthusio.

I guess as far as character descriptions go, this is going very well, although I have slightly contradicted my opening statement by making this entry so much longer than the last one. But oh well, I’m not afraid of a little constructive criticism, from either you, or your Aunt Myrtle (who’s a bitch, by the way). I assume that I can post this, and then perhaps later make actual progress into the telling of the story. Whatever happens, I’m not going to argue. I do have a long day here at work, and I’ve only been here for 2.28 hours. 5.72 more hours to go. Oh damn! I need to add illustrations! Arg… this is going to take all day now! Oh well. They’ll be good, I hope. Or maybe they’ll be nothing. Either way, you’ve just spent about 10 minutes reading this entry, and you can’t un-read it, so ha. Hope you stick around for the next installment of…

Part 1.

This isn't really a blog. It's more of just a ramble, or maybe babble. Whichever works. Or wait, it could possibly be an Anti-blog. We'll go with that. But enough of this gay banter, it makes no sense for me to be adding this nothing at the beginning of a long and interesting tale. This entry (or anti-entry) is called The Red Basin, after all. Sit back and listen. Or read. It's a tale, of which there is no point, but has the potential to captivate and enslave the mind. No, it doesn't, but it might give you ideas for other spin-offs of sitcoms that could be on the horizon. Although Humor isn't the main ingredient, I'll be sure to add as much of it as I see fit, weather appropriate to the situation or atmosphere or not.
Well, as the tale begins, I must first point out the characters that take part in it.
Beginning with the least important (as is the custom for stories about nothing) we have Harold R. Goods. An ageing man from the southern United States, that suffers from bad arthritis in his knees and elbows. His prominent features are all stereotypical in the category of elderly homeless man. His face is long and his eyes are fairly hollow, but he has tales that could keep the attention of even those most terribly afflicted with ADD. But enough about this rotten old man., His part is minor, and meaningless in the Grand Skeem of Things. His character bothers me, and I assume that I will make his part even less significant in the days to come, due to this non-liking I have for him.
Second, we have a character who's role may actually be considered as substantial, although not major or meaningful in any way shape or form. Jason A. D. Simon is a young man (possibly in his mid 30's?) that although having not gone to school prior to his high-school graduation, is doing fairly well for himself, and has purchased a small boutique in the northern end of the city you will be introduced to in some time, on a street called Dugald. In fact, the address of this building is #223, Dugald Street. Uninteresting. The boutique shares residence (and rent) in #223 Dugald with a Cafe' called White Rooster Cafe'. Slightly digressed from the description of Jason A. D. Simon, but it will come up in this story, to be sure. Returning to my previous train of thought, Jason stands nearly 6" tall, and has light coloured hair. He is a moderately attractive young man, but nothing that would really stand out in a crowd. He acts with quiet optimism most of the time, covering up a sense of nervousness that he feels nearly every second he's awake. Reason for this nervousness? Unknown as of now. Perhaps the story will uncover the reason. More than likely though, I will forget about it and leave it out of the Grand Skeem of Things. Moving away from Jason A.D. Simon though.
Seeing how I'm already getting bored with this tale, I believe that I’ll end this first entry into The Red Basin with this. Hopefully it has at least peeked your interest slightly, or at least marginally enough for you to perhaps seek out and read a second entry, if it ever comes to be published on this page. As for me, I'll continue adding illustration to my Box of Assorted Bolts, so keep informed, and keep your eye on My Dominion!