The Outlandisher
August 8th, 2008
by Zoni with a Z (but pronounced like an S
Chap. 1
The Mirror
It was a unusually warm, breezy day in NYC, the kind that finds the natives pouring onto the streets and into the shops and restaurants, lulled into thinking that spring is here ....finally....when, in actual fact, it is only signaling a short lull before the last wicked storm of the year. Such was the case this day, anyway, and the lightheartedness of the general mood could not portend what adventures were to lie in store for one of her more lusty denizens.
Joining the crowds in celebrating the fine April day, Scottish actor Gerramy (with a G) McButler, accompanied by his close friend Rusty Elvaino, was browsing an antique shop in Tribeca . This particular shop seemed the perfect choice to find some of the finishing touches the duo were scouting to fit the actor's newly remodeled loft somewhere in the heart of Chelsea.
Elvaino, who was also McButler's, decorator, had been notified by this particular store that they had recently acquired a shipment of antiques from the UK, which was what had precipitated this visit. They had been in the shop for over an hour and had selected what looked like a bloodstained wooden mallet and a large, decorative broach bearing an imposing looking coat of arms that had fascinated McButler.
Rusty Elvaino was carefully inspecting a small, exquisitely made snuffbox when the excited whoops of his friend caused him to turn around and check out the piece that had caught McButler's attention. He frowned slightly at the large, freestanding, ornate mirror McButler was running his fingers over.
GMcB: Och, ah've got tae have this mirror! It's pairfect fer my bedroom!
Elvaino: Er, Ger. Don't you think it's a little... large....?
Rusty refrained from adding " and gaudy," upon observing his friend's obvious enthusiasm over the piece.
GMcB: O' course not. Ah'm a large fellow, or hadn't ye noticed?
Elvaino: Yes, but where will you put it? There is really no room in your bedroom for it.
GMcB: Ah dunno, but ah'll find a place. Meantime, ah'll just leave it in the Great Room. What dae ye think?
Elvaino: Well.....it's........interesting. (shrugging shoulders) But it's your place and if you like the damn thing...that's all that matters.
His brows knit in a frown, the decorator scrutinizes the mirror closely, while McButler excitedly summons the proprietor of the shop to learn of its origins.
The iron frame surrounding the mottled glass looked like it had been sealed with a preservative to keep it from rusting. It was oval shaped and ornately encrusted with what looked like citrine, topaz and ruby colored stones at the top and bottom portions of the oval, almost like some you would find on the hilt of a sword. It swivelled on a flat base, most likely mounted at a later date than the original piece and as far as the owner, Sam Caswell, could tell them, part of a shipment which had been found stored in a castle somewhere in the Scottish Highlands.
McButler's eyes lit up hearing this and a bargain was struck for the purchase.
Paying for their treasures and making arrangements for the next day delivery, McButler and Elvaino left the store, satisfied with their endeavors and headed for some buddy talk over lunch.
It wasn't until several days later that the storm hit. The temperature had dropped considerably and it was raining cats and dogs outside. Cozy in his new digs, McButler was standing in front of his new mirror, admiring the new green and white plaid kilt he had just put on. He was going to wear it to this year's Dressed to Kilt charity affair at the end of the week. It had just arrived from Scotland and he noticed it was a little snug around the hips. He made a mental note to refrain from eating pasta for a few days and double up on his jog tomorrow, the rain permitting.
Still wearing his white tennis shoes and cotton floral shirt, he decided to try on the boots and tartan sash he had purchased just that day to get the full effect of the outfit. He had pinned the broach he had bought at the antique shop on the sash and it lay draped over a chair. As he turned to reach for the boots still sitting in the box on the floor, his little dog Nolita, (affectionately dubbed Noly), who had been lying placidly nearby, started growling menacingly as she stood on all fours staring into the mirror. McButler turned around to see what had attracted her attention only to be greeted, not by his own reflection in the mirror, but by the figure of a tall, slim, red headed man in full Highlander dress scowling back at him.
Startled and scared out of his wits, the actor jumped back, only to step on the still growling pug, who let out an ear splitting yelp that caused McButler to jump the other way and trip over his own feet. The actor, attempting to break his fall, tried to grab the mirror but found himself grasping thin air as a sudden black vortex opened up and roughly sucked him in through the mirror and, closing after him....left the poor little dog licking the space where her master had last been.
Walking around the room, in search of the familiar figure of her beloved McButler, she goes over to the boots, still laying in the open box, and sniffs them. After a while, realizing he is not returning anytime soon, she lies down near the boots and lays her head on her paws, her sad, mournful eyes tearing up.
by Zoni with a Z (but pronounced like an S
Chap. 1
The Mirror
It was a unusually warm, breezy day in NYC, the kind that finds the natives pouring onto the streets and into the shops and restaurants, lulled into thinking that spring is here ....finally....when, in actual fact, it is only signaling a short lull before the last wicked storm of the year. Such was the case this day, anyway, and the lightheartedness of the general mood could not portend what adventures were to lie in store for one of her more lusty denizens.
Joining the crowds in celebrating the fine April day, Scottish actor Gerramy (with a G) McButler, accompanied by his close friend Rusty Elvaino, was browsing an antique shop in Tribeca . This particular shop seemed the perfect choice to find some of the finishing touches the duo were scouting to fit the actor's newly remodeled loft somewhere in the heart of Chelsea.
Elvaino, who was also McButler's, decorator, had been notified by this particular store that they had recently acquired a shipment of antiques from the UK, which was what had precipitated this visit. They had been in the shop for over an hour and had selected what looked like a bloodstained wooden mallet and a large, decorative broach bearing an imposing looking coat of arms that had fascinated McButler.
Rusty Elvaino was carefully inspecting a small, exquisitely made snuffbox when the excited whoops of his friend caused him to turn around and check out the piece that had caught McButler's attention. He frowned slightly at the large, freestanding, ornate mirror McButler was running his fingers over.
GMcB: Och, ah've got tae have this mirror! It's pairfect fer my bedroom!
Elvaino: Er, Ger. Don't you think it's a little... large....?
Rusty refrained from adding " and gaudy," upon observing his friend's obvious enthusiasm over the piece.
GMcB: O' course not. Ah'm a large fellow, or hadn't ye noticed?
Elvaino: Yes, but where will you put it? There is really no room in your bedroom for it.
GMcB: Ah dunno, but ah'll find a place. Meantime, ah'll just leave it in the Great Room. What dae ye think?
Elvaino: Well.....it's........interesting. (shrugging shoulders) But it's your place and if you like the damn thing...that's all that matters.
His brows knit in a frown, the decorator scrutinizes the mirror closely, while McButler excitedly summons the proprietor of the shop to learn of its origins.
The iron frame surrounding the mottled glass looked like it had been sealed with a preservative to keep it from rusting. It was oval shaped and ornately encrusted with what looked like citrine, topaz and ruby colored stones at the top and bottom portions of the oval, almost like some you would find on the hilt of a sword. It swivelled on a flat base, most likely mounted at a later date than the original piece and as far as the owner, Sam Caswell, could tell them, part of a shipment which had been found stored in a castle somewhere in the Scottish Highlands.
McButler's eyes lit up hearing this and a bargain was struck for the purchase.
Paying for their treasures and making arrangements for the next day delivery, McButler and Elvaino left the store, satisfied with their endeavors and headed for some buddy talk over lunch.
It wasn't until several days later that the storm hit. The temperature had dropped considerably and it was raining cats and dogs outside. Cozy in his new digs, McButler was standing in front of his new mirror, admiring the new green and white plaid kilt he had just put on. He was going to wear it to this year's Dressed to Kilt charity affair at the end of the week. It had just arrived from Scotland and he noticed it was a little snug around the hips. He made a mental note to refrain from eating pasta for a few days and double up on his jog tomorrow, the rain permitting.
Still wearing his white tennis shoes and cotton floral shirt, he decided to try on the boots and tartan sash he had purchased just that day to get the full effect of the outfit. He had pinned the broach he had bought at the antique shop on the sash and it lay draped over a chair. As he turned to reach for the boots still sitting in the box on the floor, his little dog Nolita, (affectionately dubbed Noly), who had been lying placidly nearby, started growling menacingly as she stood on all fours staring into the mirror. McButler turned around to see what had attracted her attention only to be greeted, not by his own reflection in the mirror, but by the figure of a tall, slim, red headed man in full Highlander dress scowling back at him.
Startled and scared out of his wits, the actor jumped back, only to step on the still growling pug, who let out an ear splitting yelp that caused McButler to jump the other way and trip over his own feet. The actor, attempting to break his fall, tried to grab the mirror but found himself grasping thin air as a sudden black vortex opened up and roughly sucked him in through the mirror and, closing after him....left the poor little dog licking the space where her master had last been.
Walking around the room, in search of the familiar figure of her beloved McButler, she goes over to the boots, still laying in the open box, and sniffs them. After a while, realizing he is not returning anytime soon, she lies down near the boots and lays her head on her paws, her sad, mournful eyes tearing up.
Songs out of tune, the words always a little wrong...Canzoni Stonate
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