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The story thus far...
Grace and Simon, two teenage tearaways, have managed to lock themselves in a derelict theatre in Reality (they live in Allegory), by entering a box or cabinet of some sort in the basement of The tré (Otterstow's small theatre). Ignatius (the mayor) suspects this is the case and has enlisted the aid of the parents (Slide, Sandra, Pete and Gina). They have been unable to open the box as of yet and Ignatius is trying to find out if they can legally enlist the aid of others who might be able to and if it is legal to even enter Reality.
What's going on right now:
Liza PrIgel was a friend with Ignatius' parents. Thus, Ignatius feels they (his parents) may have mentioned to Liza how to open the cabinet in the basement of The tré. He wants to make a trip to Trinova to ask her about it. Pete and Sandra insist, very sensibly, that they call her (Liza) immediately. In response, Ignatius summons Johnny PrIgel, Liza's son, who still lives in Otterstow. Johnny explains that his mother does not take telephone calls, even from her own children. Nor does she have a rover.
About the page...
A rover, as you might have guessed is akin to a mobile phone, except that it only does text. A handle would be the same as an email address.
Most mothers are tickled pink when their children deign to call them (mine certainly is). Next week, Johnny will explain his mum's unusual requirements for discourse.
Also, I'd like to take this opportunity to thank all who serve, or have served, their country. You have my deepest respect and admiration.
Thank you.
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20 JUNE 2001 Wednesday - 2000
Page 81
Black Kettle Pub
"Yessir, what can I do for Yer Honour?" Johnny asked. "Round of pints?"
"We'd like to give your mother, Liza, a ring. Do you have her telephone number?" Ignatius asked him.
Johnny, sensing that this was a display more than an actual question, picked up the thread. "Why no, Yer Honour, I would not happen to have a telephone number for my mum."
"You don't have your own mum's phone number?" asked Sandra, amazed. "What about her rover handle?"
"Not that neither."
"What kind of son are you?"
"The old fashioned sort," Johnny replied. "See, Mum doesn't do phones and she certainly don't do rovers. She does either post or standin' on 'er doorstep."
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