Weekly Top X- SinSynn and 'Lo are The Usual Suspects

It’s a quiet late afternoon in the hills of southern california. Secluded on a brushy incline is a lush white mansion, with white lace curtains lazily floating in the gentle breeze in various windows. Low along the outer wall of the compound, a dark figure skulks in an attempt to keep hidden along the hedges. The figure is somewhat disguised by a trenchcoat, but telltale tentacles poke out from the bottom of the coat. One of them holds a digital camera with an ultra-mega-super zoom lens attachment. The squidly arm is trying to hold the camera over the wall and keep steady. 




Kind of like this, only creepier. 


Over the wall, we get a glimpse of one the mansion’s inhabitants, piercing green eyes glaring steadily at something in our direction. The pouty mouth is seen forming the words “restraining order” before the face turns away and our view is cut short by another form. 





There’s a nebbish fellow with a bush jacket standing behind the tentacled form, smiling at SinSynn. The smile is a little strange, in a creepy, almost menacing way. There are Coke bottle glasses on the man’s nose, and he has a pocket protector holding several pens in his jacket.

“I finally found you! You’ve been very tough to find this week. What’s the deal with hanging out at Megan’s instead of HoP or WoW?”

“Shhhh, James! I’m stalking my future wife. Don’t worry, though, the restraining order stipulates that I hafta remain 100 yards from her at all times, and we’re currently standing 100 yards and one inch away, so we’re good”

“Crikey, that’s a relief. Listen, I just wanted to make sure everybody reads my Infinity posts. I heard you were writing Top X with Loquacious again, so I was hoping you would maybe mention them.”

“Sure thing, James. Not a problem. Warp Signal rocks. Say, buddy, can you hand me that telescope?”

“That’s not a telescope. THIS is a telescope...”

SinSynn stares in disbelief, and wonders how that thing fit in a bush jacket.

“Fer the love of...you Aussies don’t do anything halfway, do ya?”

“No sir we do not. By the way, on my way here I passed an odd man sitting in a corner. He said he was keeping it warm for you.”

“Oh, that’s my friend Captain Kellen. Yeah, I’ll probably need a place to hide shortly. Good thing he’s nearby.”

“I also passed a very angry young woman with a mohawk brandishing a pitchfork. She inquired about your location...”

SinSynn visibly pales.

“Was she British?”

“I do believe she was. She said she wanted to discuss your opinions regarding scantily clad models, among other things.”

SinSynn begins hastily packing his spying equipment into the various pockets of his trenchcoat.

“James, if you wanna live, I suggest you run. Run now, far and fast.”

James is no fool; he and SinSynn beat a rapid retreat.





The scene cuts away from the pair of fugitives to the outside of a small apartment in the heart of Chicago. A heavyset woman sits outside, looking with wist and aspiration at several glorious Wreck Age models. She is taking pictures like a madwoman, and humming “Sweet Home, Chicago” as she does.




Her cell phone vibrates in her pocket, and she picks it up.

“What?!” She whispers angrily at the device.

“Yo. I’m in a little bit of trouble and I need you to come pick me up. Where you at?”

“Of course you do. I’m in Chicago.”

“*WHO* are you spying on now? I thought that Gentleman guy told you to leave him alone.”

“Um. It’s research. Yeah. Research. I gotta know about the latest products, and he’s got an inside track on Wreck Age. If I come get you, we gotta come back here so we can bother Dethtron.”

“I dunno about that, kiddo. Dethy’s been all kindsa busy lately, doing too much on not enough time.”

“Well, fine. I’m gonna go see Lauby in his hellhole one last time before he comes back home. I *think* SpecialLadyFriend has forgiven me for last time. Maybe.”

“I need a ride. Come get me, and then we can go wherever. I just need outta here. And I got a friend.”

SinSynn turns to James.

“Ok, I got us a ride outta here.”

Suddenly, in the distance, a great din can be heard. A woman’s voice, shouting ‘bollocks’ as she forward slashes and chews her way through the underbrush.
SinSynn and James exchange a glance.

“We need to hide,” they say together.

“I know a place,” SinSynn decides, “it should be safe.”

They make their way over to Frontline Gamer’s blog, and tuck themselves underneath a Sunday Sermon.

SinSynn looks over at James, as he pulls a wall of text over himself.

“I hope Captain Kellen is ok.”

“He should be alright, his corner seems pretty solid.”

“True dat. I sure do miss Frontline. Been a while since I’ve had a good argument with him, that knucklehead.”

“I’m sure he’ll return in due time. Brits are pretty tenacious.”

SinSynn makes this face: -_-

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that.”

They look up, as they hear the sound of the Lo’Copter approaching.

Loquacious lands nearby and beats the wall of text with her very cute purse.

“C’mon outta there. We gotta go visit some other guys and then turn in our time sheets. Where did HE come from?”

‘Lo is pointing at James S, who is skulking behind SinSynn.

SinSynn flashes his trademark alien grin.

“I ran into him while I was out and about. He’s cool. So where are we going next?”

‘Lo seems more than a little frustrated and takes a deep calming breath.

“Didn’t he follow us home the other day? How did he know where you are?”

SinSynn seems to be thinking for a moment, an obvious stretch for the cephalopod.

“Oh yeah, he was at our place the other day. I thought you like, invited him for cookies or sumpthin.”

‘Lo shakes her head and mutters something about knuckleheads.

James S smiles brightly, but again with a slightly creepy look on his face.

“Cookies? Oh, can I come over? I LOVE cookies! And a sarnie! I want a sarnie.”

‘Lo gives herself a facepalm and then squarely stares at her Xeno friend.

“You know this kind of thing is only enabling his stalker tendencies. Maybe we need new stuffs to check out instead of our normal haunts, so those people don’t think WE are stalkers...”

The goofy alien squishes about, his excitement visible.

“New stuffs? What stuffs? I love stuffs! Lemme see!”
"Painting Santuary has a pretty cool Infinity Review. You should totally check it out. Take James S with you, maybe.

And, bro... this one is just for you. You have to see what Cameron made. It's...creepily beautiful. "

"Oh SNAP! An octopus. Cool!"



"Then for James S, since all the wildlife in Oz is so scary, maybe you might like this... I mean rats are cool and all... but with weapons? I dunno."

James S perks up. 



"Hey! Plastic Crack- the guy's got the right idea. Crikey!"

"And I know the Imperium 'iz boring', but this stuff over at Darkened Visions is pretty cool. I love scenery."



The trio of troublemakers begin debating the merits of various stalking techniques and how to keep a safe distance while oohing and aahing over the cool things at the newfound blogs as we fade out to this important message:

Stalking is serious and creepy. Don't do it. This was a reenactment done all in fun.

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