Guess This Character: Entries

[CharleyH]

Thanks to all who entered! It was a pleasure and fun to read, not to mention write.

The following descriptions are of popular or well-known television and film personalities/characters. The challenge was to write a description without using the name or relying on the physical attributes of that character/personality.

To the writers: if you find that a series of wrong guesses are being made, well, you can always drop hints at your leisure.

To all: HAPPY GUESSING!

 

[CharleyH]

Vermillion:

When he strode into a room everyone stopped talking and fixed their eyes on him. Like a strict teacher who could control even the unruliest class, his mere entrance into a room was enough to ensure attention.

He was not conventionally attractive, but his aura of arrogance and power acted like the strongest of aphrodisiacs and drew people to him despite his abrasive personality. He was critical and cruel and, when it wasn’t directed at you, his cruelty was funny, but this meant that his approbation, when offered, was both genuine and rare, making it highly sought after.

Not many people could equal him in terms of biting wit, sharp sarcasm and blunt, brutal honesty, although they tried. When he placed the end of his pen in his mouth and fixed his gaze on the trembling supplicant in front of him their knees trembled, their hands and face grew damp with perspiration, yet something deep inside quivered hopefully and fluttered as they watched his lips surround the tip of the pen.

On his decision futures were made or dreams broken, he held lives in his hands and raised or crushed people as casually as he would drink or breathe. Power shimmered around him, almost visible, and everyone who came close was sucked in, hoping to take just a little bit of it for themselves. Few succeeded.

 

[CharleyH]

Mistresslynn:

Rinsing the last of the shampoo out of his hair, he shook a few drops of water from his eyes. Without his glasses on, things were a bit fuzzy, but he could make out the ledge where he put the towel before his shower. Reaching out for it, he came up empty-handed. Shy, worried someone might walk in, he tried to shield himself with one hand, while the other searched for the towel.

Hearing voices in the open shower room, he stopped, instantly recognizing them both. Now he realized why his towel was gone too. The shower door opened, and he was joined by his two best buddies. The missing towel landed on his head, making him forget to cover himself. Now embarrassment flooded through him at being seen. Thinking of tonight, he groaned. He would never be able to undress in front of a girl iwhen it was this bad around the guys.

After more harassing and teasing, he was finally able to make it back to his place. By now he was getting really nervous. Checking the time, he scrambled into his clothes, all the while muttering to himself. When everything was on and fastened, he took a deep breath and walked to the door.

Turning back, he grabbed the pitiful bouquet of flowers, and the box of chocolates. It had taken hours on the phone, trading supplies and making promises just to get them. But the guys said he needed to bring them, and they had plenty girls so they must know.

The walk was short, since everything was so close together out here. Knocking on the wooden frame, he stepped back and waited. When the door slowly opened, he just stared. He had never seen her in anything other than her nurse‘s uniform. Tonight she was wearing a blue sweater that matched her eyes, along with slacks the color of the cornstalks back home.

Almost shoving the gifts at her, he tried to talk, but only a squeak came out. When she smiled and said thank you in that sweet voice of hers, he was lost. Dropping his gaze to the ground, he didn’t move. Her fingers closed over his hand and tugged him inside. Swallowing hard, he stiffly walked in, so tense he couldn’t think.

Talking softly, she told him to relax. Going to the bed, she sat and invited him to join her by patting the empty space at her side. Not letting himself get too close, beginning to panic, he carefully seated himself a good foot away. She scooted closer, with one hand reaching up to remove his glasses, while the other went to his knee. His leg burned where she touched it.

Her body leaned into his shoulder, soft breasts tight against his arm. His mind went blank. When her lips touched his, he shivered. Helpless, never having been in this position before, he just let her kiss him again. Somehow though, his lips seemed to know what to do, as he began kissing her back. But softly, gently, like the fragile lamb he compared her to.

The narrow bed barely held them as they slowly reclined together against the heavy wool blanket. Letting her continue to instruct him was easy, since he wasn‘t a leader. Pieces of her clothing were removed as their hands wandered and found sensitive spots.

Worried before that his lack of experience would turn her away, instead she brought his hand to places it had never been before. Afraid he would hurt her, still nervous, his touch was feathery light. When his mouth touched a hard nipple for the first time ever, he thought he had died and gone to heaven. Needing to feel her hands on his privates, his lower body arched into hers, letting her feel how much she affected him.

Seeing her totally naked for the first time brought him so close to the edge it was painful. Pulling at the rest of his drab clothes, he stopped when her hands covered his. Looking down, he watched as she finished removing them, calmly and clinically, the nurse in her coming out even now.

His heated body now worked on its own, as if it knew what to do, how to please. As her body opened to him, he rose above her, brave enough to take the lead. Finding himself swallowed by her creamy wetness turned his soft moans into agonized groans of passion. Their bodies slick with sweat, they moved together as one. When her walls tightened around him, he exploded, pumping his seed deep inside her body, not stopping until every drop was pulled from him.

Spent, they collapsed next to each other, bodies tangled on the scratchy blanket. In minutes they were asleep, wrapped in each others arms, smiles on their faces.

The voice on the loudspeaker woke them several hours later. Jumping up to grab his clothes, he was apologizing to her as he started to dress, immediately thinking there was an emergency. Looking out the window quickly, he saw it was his buddies standing there, making an announcement to everyone. They wanted the entire camp to know Walter wasn’t a virgin anymore. The deed was done, they added. There was also something mentioned about a bet and if you had chosen last night’s date to see them later at the Swamp.

Unsure, she looked at her new lover. With a wink, he closed the screen, slipped off his pants and climbed back into her bed, no longer the timid farm boy from Iowa.

 

[CharleyH]

Jomar:

Sitting in a beat up old car in front of the upper-middle class house, the disheveled looking man reached into a greasy paper bag and pulled out the remains of a peanut butter and raisin sandwich. He ate it, crumpled the bag and tossed it on the floor. He took a sip of black coffee and spilled some when he jerked from the heat of it. He brushed the coffee off his tie with his hand and put the coffee cup on the dashboard.

Finally ready, the man plucked the unlit stogie from the ashtray and put it in his mouth. He clambered out of the car, dusted himself off and shut the car door. He sneezed in the spring air and mumbled curses against the pollen. Squinting against the sun, the man walked toward the house and stumbled and staggered on a raised sidewalk seam. He held the cigar in his left hand, rang the front doorbell and waited. He rang again and a very, very attractive middle aged woman opened the door.

“Uh, hello, Ma’am.” He tilted his head slightly forward and to the right, scratched his forehead and said, “Um, I’m sorry to bother you Mrs. Smith, but I need to ask you a few questions.”

“Why of course. Why don’t you come inside and we’ll get comfortable. And you can ask me any question you want. I might even answer it,” she teased.

“That’s okay, Ma’am, I’m fine here.” His voice halfway between gravel and sandpaper.

“I insist,” she said, pulling him into the foyer.

“Well, thank you. Nice place you have here. Mind if I ask a personal question?”

“No.”

“Where did you get those shoes? My wife’s birthday is coming up, you see, and…”

“You silly,” she said and poked his shoulder in a playful manner. “So what do you really want to ask me, Inspector?”

He sniffed the air and said, “Is that chili I smell? Oh. It’s not Inspector, it’s…”

“I bet you want to ask me about the murder, don’t you,” she said and moved closer to him.

“Well, I hate to take up your time. It’ll just take a minute, but I need to ask about your activities that day.”

The woman closed the distance between them, pushed aside his raincoat and brushed the front of his pants with her hand.

“Uh, Ma’am, what are you doing?”

She tugged the zipper down and pulled him free.

“Mrs. Smith. Um, this is highly irregular.”

“What is your question?” she said as she fondled him.

“Wh, what were you and your husband doing at the time of her disappearance?”

“This.” She dropped to her knees and took him into her mouth.

His right hand drifted up and he put his fingers to his forehead.

“Oh. Ah.”

She worked her magic, swirling her tongue, using her hand, taking him deep.

“Ooh…Mrs. Smith…that’s…oh…you should talk to my wife…ohhh…on second thought….”

He propped his left arm under his right elbow and looked down at her.

“Ma’am…I should tell you…ohhh…that…that I’m gonna…I’m gonna…ohhhh.”

Mrs. Smith kept him in her mouth until he softened, then tucked him back in, zipped his pants and stood.

“Well, Inspector. Does that answer your question?”

“It’s not Inspector, it’s…”

“I have an appointment to get my hair done so I must be going. If you have any other questions, please call again. I want to cooperate in every possible way I can,” she said with a smile, making her meaning clear.

“Thank you, Mrs. Smith. You’ve, uh, been very helpful,” he said and crossed the threshold to the porch. He thanked her again for her time, and turned to leave. Before she could close the door he paused, turned back, leaned to the right slightly lifted his right hand and with a questioning gesture said…

 

[CharleyH]

Jenny Jackson:

He set his Stinger on the bar and reached up to straighten his immaculate, silk tie, while signaling to the bartender. “Give me another,” he said in his mock British accent. Then he turned toward the door just in time to see Dyan Canon enter the bar.

Dyan walked up to him and kissed his lips. “Good evening, darling. Has he arrived yet?”

He shook his head. “No, but I believe that is his car pulling up outside now,” he said, pointing to street that could clearly be seen though the glass façade.

“Yes. That’s him. You can tell by the profile,” she said. Then with a snicker, “And by the way he waddles when he walks.”

A few moments later, Alfred Hitchcock joined them standing at the bar. “I think we can do some business, my friend. But first, it’s time to eat. We can discuss this over dinner,” Alfred said with a wave of his hand indicating Sardi’s Restaurant, across the street. The three walked across West 44th Street at Times Square to the restaurant.

Times Square had not become the haunt of prostitutes and drug dealers yet. The movie houses still played the mainstream films of the day, not the porn that we have now. It was a better time. It was a time of romantic idealism, and this actor was the ideal of that genre.

Our hero walked with Dyan’s arm tucked securely under his. He had not a hair out of place. His clothing immaculate, as if he had just come from his tailor. The starch in his shirt collar perfect. Even in the slight breeze of the Square, his suit resisted moving in anyway but to enhance the perfection of ensemble.

The Maitre’ D smiled as they entered the restaurant. “It’s so good to see you again. I have a table for you. If you will follow me.”

Eyes all over the dining room turned to follow the three. He stopped to speak to several acquaintances along the way. But most of the other diners just gapped at seeing him, marveled that he seemed so much like his screen personality. Those close enough to hear marveled at the mock accent that was so well known by every movie-goer.

 

[CharleyH]

Lauren Hynde:

"Do not hug me." We had been at this for hours, and still his voice revealed all the power of a wild beast, and all the restraint of someone who knows the consequences of unleashing that power. Honour. Purpose.

"Oh, come on, merry man. Why would you think I was going to hug you?"

"I am not a merry man!" he protested. "I know your kind. I was raised by two of you. Nothing else worked, so now you will attempt to bond, and your bonding rituals involve a great deal of hugging... and dancing." That last word was pronounced in such a way that you'd think he was talking about slaughtering baby kittens or some other cuddly furry creature, but from what I had seen so far, he would probably have no moral qualms about slaughtering baby kittens. So macho.

"You're such a drama queen, honey! You really shouldn't generalise like that, you know? We're not all alike. When I think of bonding rituals, for example... Oh, you really don't want to know. But don't worry, I don't bite. Well, that's wrong," I giggled. "I do bite."

"I doubt you can do it strongly enough to even be felt," he growled under his breath.

"Now now, darling. Be nice." Slowly I paced around him. He did not move a muscle, always the perfect soldier-boy, a formidable warrior. "You must be great fun at parties."

"I fail to understand why."

"Because! You're so dour and reserved and cute that I just want to probe you until the sun goes supernova," I said, tapping his butt.

"I shall not be probed!" he roared.

 

[CharleyH]

Charleyh:

Los Angeles hasn't changed much since Norma Desmond trapped Joe Gillis into her macabre fantasy world. There are still whispered secrets on the other side of the camera lens and there are still big pay-offs, although these days it seems the tabloids are the one's doing all the big paying and not the other way around. Hollywood is still lined with glitter, although mostly from club kidz and drag queens and Beverly Hills is always on the move with tourists holding little maps and looking for 'Ro-dEEo' Drive if only to catch a glimpse of their favourite movie star. Sad fools. Little do they know that stars no longer live in the 90210 area code, only bad characters do.

L.A. was once the home of the Raiders, but only a man's man would know this and there is no doubt that I am a man's man. But unlike the Raiders who had the good mind to flee the city of Angels I was just about to land there and take on the biggest thing that America has ever seen.

'It never rains in sunny, Southern California', I said glancing out of the US Airways jet as we landed on the tarmac at L.A.X. The air outside was thick with smog so I clipped my sunglasses to the lapel pocket of my suit and turned to the young lady beside me. "But it sure does pour".

"What was that, mister?" She asked pulling the phones of her MP3 from her ears.

The thought had lost its moment, but I repeated myself anyhow, "It sure does pour."

She looked past me to the weather outside. "Yee-ah," she said under her breath, "whatever."

I'd half expected an entourage as I got off the plane. After all, this was the biggest thing to hit America and I was the one taking the lead, but somehow I got the feeling that Californians had this cool, 'whatever' attitude that I had only ever experienced once before. I put on my sunglasses and looked around for a familiar face, but only saw some heavy-set and dread locked Hurley look-alike holding a placard reading my name.

"It looks like you have got my sign," I said reaching for my sunglasses.

"Sure do," He whisked up my bag before I even had the chance to take off my glasses or say anything else, then he turned his back instructing, "Follow me, dude."

It wasn't a limousine. It wasn't even a stout airport limo or a beamer. In fact, it was a cherry red Smart Car, which was not exactly the kind of wheels I would expect for someone as important as me, but I suppose the LAPD had a smaller budget than I was accustomed.

"Sorry, I had to use my own car today, man," he said tossing my bags haphazardly into the minuscule space between the seat and the rear window, but at least he had the decency to hold the door open for me.

"Well, if your name is on the guest list no one can," I removed my sunglasses, "take you higher."

"Everyone says I got great balls of fi - AHR," he sang picking at an air guitar. "Fuckin' A, this is gonna be a kick ass ride, dude. I never would've pinned you for an AC/DC fan."

I didn't have the faintest idea what he was talking about, but turned sideways and smiled coyly before putting my sunglasses back on.

 

[starrkers]

I'll have a shot, make a fool of myself
1: Simon Cowell
2: Woody Allen (?)
3: Columbo
4: Cary Grant
5: pending...
6: no idea.

 

[Somme]

Who's entered whom?......

(sorry I'm late)

 

[CharleyH]

Latecomer Entries

1. Edward Teach

“Oh, my! Are you really inviting me to your room?” the brunette in the poodle skirt gushed, star struck.

“Yes ma’am,” he said from behind a pair of garish sunglasses. “Just let me be your teddy bear.”

“Oh, my!” she said. “I’ll do it. I’ll do anything you want. What do you want me to do?”

“Just love me tender.”

“Oh, you know I will. You know I will.”

“Thank you. Thank you very much,” he replied, gave her his sexiest raised lip grin then left the building.

 

[CharleyH]

Who's entered whom?......

(sorry I'm late)

No problem. The names of the authors are at the top of each post.

 

[jomar]

First try.

Vermillion - Simon Cowell

Mistresslynn - DK, still thinking about it

JJ - Cary Grant

Ed Teach - Elvis

Charley - Horatio Caine (CSI Miami)


(I'll check back after the soccer tournament - go team!)

 

[Edward Teach]

Simon Cowell

Radar

Columbo

Cary Grant

CSI guy

Well, I wasn't trying to make it hard

 

[Guest]

Simon Cowell

Radar

Columbo

Cary Grant

CSI guy

Well, I wasn't trying to make it hard

I always try to make it hard.

Teach!

 

[Jenny_Jackson]

1. Vermillion - Simon Cowell
2. Mistress Lynn - Gary Berghoff
3. Jomar - Peter Falk
4. Jenny J - (Her writing is so horrid, I have no idea)
5. Lauren Hynde - Waiting for submission Edit : Hulk
6. CharleyH - Luke Perry
7. Edward Teach - Elvis

 

[jomar]

First try.

Vermillion - Simon Cowell

Mistresslynn - DK, still thinking about it

JJ - Cary Grant

Ed Teach - Elvis

Charley - Horatio Caine (CSI Miami)


(I'll check back after the soccer tournament - go team!)

Mistresslynn - Radar

 

[CharleyH]

A bump to let you know I have just now posted Lauren's entry.

 

[Lauren Hynde]

My guesses:

Vermilion
- In the first two paragraphs, I thought it could be Dr. House, but then it just lost me...

MistressLynn
- Well, she tells us the guy is a timid farm boy from Iowa called Walter who wears glasses and is a character in a medical show with a hot nurse set in a camp. I've only seen a few episodes of MASH for the first time last year, but it was still pretty easy to figure out.

jomar
- Columbo. Enough said.

Jenny_Jackson
- I dunno. Some guy from back when.

Lauren Hynde
- I have no idea.

CharleyH
- Horatio [puts sunglasses on] Caine [exits frame to the right].

Edward Teach
- Elvis, or one of the 32,862,097 Elvis-impersonator characters out there.

 

[jomar]

Lauren Hynde - The Gladiator Maximus (Russell Crowe)?? At first read anyway, I'll think over more after the second game.

 

[CharleyH]

Sigh, guessing is the fun part and I am missing half the fun because I know half the answers.

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Lauren Hynde - The Gladiator Maximus (Russell Crowe)?? At first read anyway, I'll think over more after the second game.

Maximus wouldn't slaughter baby kittens, and I'm sure Russell Crowe would eventually let himself get probed if you whispered enough sweet nothings in his ear. At least I hear that's the wish of many a gay men.

 

[Jenny_Jackson]

Thanks, Lauren Hynde -

Now I have this disgusting image of Arnold being probed by Charles Nelson Riley. I think I'm going to be sick

 

[Vermilion]

Sigh, guessing is the fun part and I am missing half the fun because I know half the answers.

Hey - I let you guess mine 3 times and you didn't get it right any of the times....
x
V

ps- thanks for the mail - will reply soon, promise

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Thanks, Lauren Hynde -

Now I have this disgusting image of Arnold being probed by Charles Nelson Riley. I think I'm going to be sick

Feel better!

It's not Arnold. It's a sci-fi character.

 

[Stella_Omega]

I had to give up on my submission because it started wanting to become a complete story. And I guess it will be someday... If I ever find the time...
1 no clue
2 Radar O' Reilly (great pick!- is that O Houlihan he's with?)
3 Peter Falk as COlumbo
4 Cary Grant...
5 I don't know, but I'd love to read the rest of that story!
number 6... hmm, Phil Specter? Jerry Lee Lewis? Umm... Axel Foley? John Shaft?