A million stories in the Naked City
The Never Ending Quest - Episode 15530
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"Very well then," said Melinda Griffith. "I'll explain. You're familiar
with the cursed, right?" Crikey. She might as well have asked me if I learned to count in school. Of course I'm familiar with the cursed. They're everywhere, and in many flavours. First and foremost, you have the werebeasts our illustrious ancestors decided would be so spiffy. Werewolves, sex-starved fox people, even a lagomorphanthrope or two. Couldn't swing a dead cat without hitting three of them. After so long with them, you just accepted that they existed. They'd become basically just another Venerial Disease. After that, you had the cursed bloodlines, who were actually author-spawn. The two major bloodlines came from the descendants of Bill L. and Karen Ford, respectively. All of Bill's male descendants had to turn into peasant girls for five years following their 21'st birthday (much to their dismay and constant kvetching). Karen's, though, got the bum deal in my estimation, and there's a reason nobody has a last name of Ford anymore. Her descendants ended up turning into what amounts to a wide assortment of wet dreams: harem girls, sexually repressed lesbian princesses, Japanese schoolgirls, and a whole bunch of others. No predictable age, and no way to get turned back short of getting a back-alley genderchange from a black market wizard. Fun, eh? That's why I'm just fine with the fact that the only thing that runs in my family is headstrong Amazons and getting chained to walls. I give the broad a look that I just wish I could've taken a photo of. "Damn straight I know about the cursed, sister. You have a point?" That shut her up for a good five seconds, and that scowl on her finally cracked. She looked almost like she was going to cry. "Well," Melinda said, "Problem is..."
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The Traveler
3/23/2001 1:15:41 PM
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