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Our own vintage town

Shangas

I'll Lock Up
Messages
6,116
Location
Melbourne, Australia
A .38, pack of lucky strikes and a fedora. Ready for duty.

You also need the appropriate music:

[video=youtube;vG9jkM4kB08]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vG9jkM4kB08[/video]

...and a sarcastic, skeptical deadpan voiceover track...

It was Friday night and the rain was pouring outside. I sat alone in my office huffin' on my latest pack of smokes. The clock said four thirty, but it looked like nine. With summer rain and heat and thunder, came the summer pace of crime. Too damn hot to do anything but pinch bags and hustle at pool. Nothing worthwile for me to pay attention to. Behind, a radio was playin' some drowsy track that was lulling me to sleep faster than a shot of chloroform.

The track ended on the radio and some sort of news-report came on. I heard a car pull up outside, the gleam from its lights bouncing off the road and jumping all the way up to my office on the first floor. The lights turned off, a door slammed, and I heard the 'click-click-click' of shoes. A door opened, a door slammed. The hollow clunk of more shoes. A pause. More shoes. A stop. A ruffling of an umbrella being closed and a buzzing sound.

"Come in!"

There she was. Wearing some dark hat with a brim so wide she could grow a whole orchard on it, never mind the fake fruit salad that she had up there already. She was wearing a sort of wine-red dress trimmed with some fuzzy stuff. She took off her hat and dark red curls poured out and jiggled and bounced around her shoulders. She hung the hat and the umbrella on the rack.

"Good evening", I said. "Can I help with the coat?"

"Thank you, no. But you could help with this", she said. "You are Mr. Steele?"

"Says the name on the door".

"Good. I want you to find this man".

She sat down on one of the few other chairs in the room, and opened her handbag, a black, shiny leather thing that looked like it was made of imitation crocodile. She closed the lid with a 'click' that sounded just like the jaws of the real thing, and put a photograph on my desk. I turned it over. 'July, '42' was written on the back.

"I haven't seen him since that photograph was taken. It was just before he shipped out. Could you find him?"

"The war's been over two years. It'll be hard".

"Well try..."
 
You also need the appropriate music:

[video=youtube;vG9jkM4kB08]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vG9jkM4kB08[/video]

...and a sarcastic, skeptical deadpan voiceover track...

It was Friday night and the rain was pouring outside. I sat alone in my office huffin' on my latest pack of smokes. The clock said four thirty, but it looked like nine. With summer rain and heat and thunder, came the summer pace of crime. Too damn hot to do anything but pinch bags and hustle at pool. Nothing worthwile for me to pay attention to. Behind, a radio was playin' some drowsy track that was lulling me to sleep faster than a shot of chloroform.

The track ended on the radio and some sort of news-report came on. I heard a car pull up outside, the gleam from its lights bouncing off the road and jumping all the way up to my office on the first floor. The lights turned off, a door slammed, and I heard the 'click-click-click' of shoes. A door opened, a door slammed. The hollow clunk of more shoes. A pause. More shoes. A stop. A ruffling of an umbrella being closed and a buzzing sound.

"Come in!"

There she was. Wearing some dark hat with a brim so wide she could grow a whole orchard on it, never mind the fake fruit salad that she had up there already. She was wearing a sort of wine-red dress trimmed with some fuzzy stuff. She took off her hat and dark red curls poured out and jiggled and bounced around her shoulders. She hung the hat and the umbrella on the rack.

"Good evening", I said. "Can I help with the coat?"

"Thank you, no. But you could help with this", she said. "You are Mr. Steele?"

"Says the name on the door".

"Good. I want you to find this man".

She sat down on one of the few other chairs in the room, and opened her handbag, a black, shiny leather thing that looked like it was made of imitation crocodile. She closed the lid with a 'click' that sounded just like the jaws of the real thing, and put a photograph on my desk. I turned it over. 'July, '42' was written on the back.

"I haven't seen him since that photograph was taken. It was just before he shipped out. Could you find him?"

"The war's been over two years. It'll be hard".

"Well try..."

We can't have him being followed all over town with a big band though. :p
 
Messages
13,460
Location
Orange County, CA
Now we've got a hotel! :D

4275655_5_b.jpg

Bridlington, UK
 

hatguy1

One Too Many
Messages
1,145
Location
Da Pairee of da prairee
Our vintage town would need a newspaper. I'll volunteer to help with that. I love to write and take pictures. And I could stick a business card in my fedora's band with PRESS printed on it.
 

Hep Caterina

New in Town
Messages
16
Location
Alexandria,LA
Good heavens..you all know what would happen dont you? The town would be inundated with people wanting to move there! then what? you know it will begin to degrade if that happens- are you prepared to have population limits?
 

Fibber Mcgee

New in Town
Messages
47
Location
Callahan
This is nice. I often thought of this myself. I was thinking of starting from scratch with a central square type setup. Would definitely need a soda fountain and movie theater ( no new movies) and no new cars inside town limits. I think there are enough of us to do it if we weren't so spread out.
 

dhermann1

I'll Lock Up
Messages
9,154
Location
Da Bronx, NY, USA
The main sticking point always winds up being snow. There are snow lovers and snow haters, and never the twain shall meet. But we could have a warm town and a cold town and connect them by twain.
 

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