Hurtling through time and space
the blue box turned end over end over end
until it pierced the gray Maine clouds
and landed right side up next to a woodpile.
Rending the curtain of science fiction,
blurring virtual and internet reality,
the blue box seemed strangely comfortable,
temperature normalizing, next to the woodpile."
Armed with a hot poker
fresh from the wood burning stove,
out from the rear door burst the Mainer,
not believing what he saw next to the woodpile.
"The Power of Moxie," he exclaimed,
as he circled the blue Tardis-like phone box,
checking out each bright orange Moxie logo
covering the box, sitting there next to the woodpile.
"I wonder," said the Mainer named Mayne,
examining the gift from the sky, "if this could convert,
with a little carpentry, to a new Moxie clubhouse,
virtual or real, right here, next to the woodpile."
With a forceful change of demeanor,
Mayne's hand touched the hidden keypad
under the handle, punching out Y-e-m-a-s-s-e-e,
entering as the door slid open, there next to the woodpile.
Slamming with finality,
the door sealed tightly, leaving the Mainer
to adapt to his Yemassee identity, for outside the box,
stood alter egos Sir Ima and Keystone, next to the woodpile.
"Egads, my good man," Ima addressed Key,
"Yem is in need of our help. Use your wits!"
With practiced hand from ringing up sales at the Theater
Key entered the code, there, next to the woodpile.
"Power of Moxie," they chorused together, all inside,
as virtual reality partnered with the internet and AP.
"It's a bloody lodge," Sir Ima Cucumber called out,
"with a giant bottle of Moxie and a lounge, next to the woodpile."
"A snack bar, bigger than at the theater,"
said Keystone, "and a flat panel TV, rising up
right out of the lounge. Amazing, for it is so huge,
inside this blue box, a Moxie Club, next to the woodpile.
"It's big enough for everyone in the Moxie group,
well, at least for all the regulars," shouted Yem excitedly.
"Oh, be still my beating heart! This wall swings forward, revealing
a dungeon with dark secrets and a well, here next to the woodpile.
Attempting to take it all in at once, Yem became dizzy
and sat down at a desk on the far side of the room.
"Laptops, internet connections. Oh, what diabolical tales I can spin!
And, over there, shelves of books, all next to the woodpile."
"Now to get all the members to write their way in!"
said Yem excitedly. "Look down that hall to the Moxie Museum,
doors for each to open with a "Shocking Tale of Horror,"
or whatever tales they wish to spin, here, next to the woodpile."
By the "Power of Moxie," readers, walk down that hidden hall
or curl up by the wood stove and write of the mysteries
hidden within. Print your reply upon the page, each in your own
inimitable style, Moxie powered, here, next to the woodpile.
By popular demand, viewed by members only,
the piece de resistance of the Moxie Lodge,
(where members "Drink Moxie and See Yemassee as God")
the Yem-throne secreted behind the giant Moxie bottle.
Bronze trophy winner
Adding your comment:
Gosh I miss that bunch!
to all who drink Moxie and see ...
y
