Six Words: Full Story

There was a vacuum being used in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. A pop meant a physical injury in Lancaster, California. A jasmine flower was part of the trap that was set up in both. We had no idea anything was happening until the vacuum started spilling out jasmine flowers instead of sucking up dirt. The traps had been set and sprung and our strongest supporter now lay inside the house, bleeding. All we'd wanted to do was to raise awareness of the two Lancaster(s) and the difference between them - we had no idea who was trying to stop us or why. It was upsetting, but we had to get him out of the trap soon.

He was due to marry my cousin any day now. She rushed to his side and quickly realized he needed to be lower than he was if he was to survive. She thought I might understand her frantic wavings just because my sister and brother-in-law knew sign language - the woman was crazy! I turned to the nearest person and simply said "you!"

There was a trail of holly in the snow. The man I'd yelled at pointed it out to me and we followed it. I was glad Mom wasn't there to see this - the house was COVERED in Christmas lights. It wasn't even Halloween yet! Mom had always told us that the best gift we could give her was the joy of knowing her entire family waited to celebrate Christmas until AFTER Thanksgiving - not before.

The poor man had worked up quite an appetite by the time we got back to my cousin and her intended. I gave him some snack bars I just happened to have in my pockets, "this should at least slake your hunger until we can get you some real food. The holly trail led to this amazing old mansion of a house. I'm sure the local kids think it's haunted - one would be so lucky as to haunt such a place! You could easily get lost in there..." We finally got the poor man out of the trap and to a nearby fast-food place so that he could satiate his hunger. As he ate, he seemed to fall into some sort of a trance. My cousin was worried - to say the least.

In order to dispel my cousin's fear, we tried to break him out of the trance. We even tried his favorite ranch-flavored chicken (though that took awhile to get ready because we had to marinade the chicken in ranch first). Only the person he revered could snap him out of it - a jazz musician who was well-known for playing his pieces with staccato notes. For some reason, it still managed to sound sublime when he played. After my cousin's intended snapped out of his trance, we went back to the house - mansion - and found where he hid his spare key so we could take a look inside.

We never even thought the the incendiary would be home. It was icy cold in that house - mansion - so we rubbed our hands together to create the friction that would help keep us warm. The owner of the house was getting ready to galvanize us so he could add our corpses to his funeral pyre. I felt the ardor of the electric current just moments before it reached us and we just barely managed to escape in time. "Maybe I can't set you on fire, but there are still a lot of things for me to ignite it seems you want to keep safe!" he yelled as we all rushed away from him.

Granger Brown - my cousin's intended - was allergic to wheat. He was a farmer and know what every flower out there was called. Granger was tall for his age, and he did things at a slow pace (much to my sister's chagrin). He plowed his field and tended his farm with great care. It was because of this that he was so well liked and had become our strongest supporter.

The maniac had given me a withered jasmine flower, then watched us leave, spitting out a litany of curses after us. Problem was, I was certain I'd seen this crazy man somewhere before, but was having trouble placing it as I ran for my life. After we slowed down a little, I decided I needed to laud the Lord His praises and thank him yet again for saving us. As I did so, I remembered the maniac, who he was. He'd had to recant his belief that knowing the difference between two cities was stupid after we'd found the poisen he'd placed in the lees of somebody's wine. I was glad I didn't drink the stuff! Apparently, the man hadn't actually changed his mind like he'd said, he'd just changed his tatics. Knowing now who he was,  I looked back at his house - mansion - and realized he was using it as a charnel house. A kind of tomb for his opponents that weren't lucky enough to escape.

I sent out a massive amount of texts as soon as I realized who he was. Granger's eyes went wide when he read my text, the one pupil we could see - we still needed to get the man to a hospital - dialated to an abnormal size from the aditional stress it caused him. He asked for some paper and a pencil and started writing furiously. He indicated that the leaves would fall on our pyro's plan. The plan had some sembalance of structure, but would ultimantly fail.

We finally got Granger to the hosipital, where the doctor was able to pop his shoulder back into place. Now the wedding could go on and he could marry my cousin (Mandy was her name). Granger was released from the hospital and we all went to play in the snow, glad he was okay and had broken free from the trance he'd been in. He remembered us talking about the ranch chicken and asked us if we could marinade some more. We went back inside and used friction to warm our hands again, Granger gave us wheat-free bread crumbs, and we all sat there wondering how to get the maniac to again recant his stance on our awareness project.  I suddenly remembered the people in Pennsylvania and called to see how the structure of their outfit was holding up.

I made the call, realizing as I did that we would need to change our numbers yet again if we wanted to hide from the obsequious man we'd just caught. He'd also been accused of fratricide, among many other things, but I wasn't sure I wanted to believe the effusive accusations that were thrown at him. My contact answered the phone as they usually did, "Lancaster center for disease control, Behemoth speaking, how may I help you?"