Re: My old story has returned, so I'll share it. Warning- really, weir
Hmmm... maybe several weekends.
Hmmm... maybe several weekends.
My old story has returned, so I'll share it. Warning- really, weird.
- Thread starter Deranged Nasat
- Start date
Re: My old story has returned, so I'll share it. Warning- really, weir
Yeah. Too be honest, if anyone actually does read it through I'll be gobsmacked, but I was excited to find it again and I'm sticking with it now.
Hmmm... maybe several weekends.
Yeah. Too be honest, if anyone actually does read it through I'll be gobsmacked, but I was excited to find it again and I'm sticking with it now. 
Re: My old story has returned, so I'll share it. Warning- really, weir
Sorry to bump this up- nearly done. Here’s chapters 19-22 of 26.
Chapter Nineteen: And several plotlines are resolved or else move on in a believable fashion. Clearing the decks, basically.
So, the speakeasy was about to break out into open warfare. Not since General Washcloth of Bathwater led the campaign against the tipsy tipplers of Rum-tum-tum had so many alcoholic beverages been in peril of battlefield spillage. All that stood between the precious, life-giving hooch and hoards of marauding Gummi Bears were the penguin mobsters, Whippy-man and the Queen’s castle. In fact, it was Her Majesty who fired the first shot, taking out several Gummi Bears with a well-aimed Puff Pastry. Furious, the remaining Bears attacked, but several were accidently trampled by Cowpoke Pete, who was charging across the room towards Prettybuttercup, swirling his lasso above his head. Prettybuttercup, expecting this assault from his hated rival, was well prepared. Picking up the Snitch, he threw him at Pete with all his strength. Shrieking, the Snitch came down right on top of Pete, who was knocked to the ground. Before he could rise again, the Gummi Bears came charging back the other way, pursued by the penguins. Trampled by tiny gelatinous stumps and wet flippers, Cowpoke Pete was clearly out of the fight.
Meanwhile, Achy Breaky Heart, desperate to reclaim the lemon, lunged for the Apathetic Weasel, but was knocked backwards by a blast of pure Begging-Extinction energy from the Spirit of the Dodo. Pulsing with B-E power, Achy Breaky Heart was then set upon by Whippy-man, who proceeded to pummel him senseless, as all truly noble superheroes would. By this point, the Snitch, either hoping to reclaim the lemon as planned, or else just get away from Prettybuttercup, ran towards the heroes’ side of the room. Cunningly, however, he first grabbed a penguin, knowing that the Spirit would not harm a loyal bird worshipper.
“You coward, Snitch!” cried Tom, “release your hostage!”
Fat Pedro leapt through the air, hoping to tackle the Snitch to the ground, but he missed and hit ??? instead, sending both sprawling. Having made it past Donny/the Spirit, the Snitch jumped on the Apathetic Weasel, grabbing for the lemon.
“Oh no. I have lost the lemon” said the weasel, from face-down on the floor. It made no effort to move itself, despite not being seriously hurt.
“Well done, Snitch!” cried Prettybuttercup, momentarily forgiving him, but then the surviving Gummi Bears swarmed the Snitch, trying to steal back the lemon for their God-emperor, Achy Breaky Heart. However, Whippy-man then engaged the Gummi Bears, flicking them in all directions with his fingers.
“He’s immune to their sugary attacks!” cried Penguin Lord Hubblebottom triumphantly, “for his great reserves of ice-cream have allowed him to build up tolerance for it.”
Meanwhile again, the penguins were fighting the Synonymous Syndicate. Realizing that Proper Gander was urging the penguins on, in order to justify his story of being sent to direct a holy war, Achy Breaky Heart, still bruised from Whippy-man’s assault, began strangling the goose, who squawked in alarm.
“WELL DONE, ACHY BREAKY HEART!” said the Spirit, approvingly.
“Oh no!” cried Tom, “the Spirit thinks Achy Breaky Heart is a friend of the birds!” Indeed, the possessed Donny seemed to now want to give the lemon back to Achy Breaky Heart. With a blast of Begging-Extinction energy, Whippy-man, who had successfully gotten the lemon from the Snitch and the Gummis, was suddenly evolutionarily-challenged. He was immediately set upon by Captain Unpleasant, who smashed a rum barrel over his head. The lemon rolled away, and Achy Breaky Heart grabbed it. Renewed by the reconciliation with his beloved fruit, he cried, “Remaining Gummis! Destroy the Penguins! Nothing can stop us so long as the lemon is mine!” The Gummis charged once more, weapons waving. “Fire!” cried Pedro to his allies, but...
“We’re out of Puff Pastries!” called Sneeralot. The Queen hurled her slipper, but it wasn’t enough to take out all the Gummi Bears. Was this the end for the valiant defenders? Did all seem lost? Again? Possibly. It was time for our hero to step in and save the day. In fact, knowing that the Spirit had made the wrong decision, Tom was begging Donny to reassert his influence. “Please, Donny!” he said, “we have two goals here; defeating the villains and so protecting the speakeasy, and saving the penguin’s souls. The Spirit is only doing one. You must control the channelling in order to achieve both goals!”
“Only if you want to, mind” said the Apathetic Weasel, still face-down on the floor and so slightly muffled, “we don’t want you to feel pressurized”.
But Donny, buried deep inside the Sprit, knew he had to. Focusing with all his strength, all his soul, he heroically forced his will upwards, and managed to attain equal influence with the Spirit. For finally Donny had achieved his own religious destiny, rather than simply relying on a fat dead bird. It was an important step towards manhood. Together, the two souls now spoke. “THIS SPEAKEASY IS UNDER THE PROTECTION OF WE, SPIRIT OF THE DODO AND DONNY TULIP. TOGETHER, WE USE THE POWER OF OUR MINDS TO BANISH PROPER GANDER”
Combining Begging-Extinction energy with the small, wet dishcloth of Offense, the two threw the small, wet dishcloth of Natural Selection. It hit Proper Gander in the face, and found him unfit to thrive in such a competitive eco-system. “Oh, crap” he said, as he disappeared in a puff of smoke. Instantly, the penguins felt their minds clearing, and they felt like their old selves again.
“ALSO” thundered Donny-Spirit, “TOGETHER WE USE THE POWER OF OUR MINDS TO ATTACK THE VILLAINS!” With another blast of energy, every bottle in the speakeasy leapt into the air, before bearing down upon the invaders, exploding, and showering them in fragments of jagged glass. The surviving Gummis fled in terror, many with limbs or heads torn off. Prettybuttercup, Captain Unpleasant, ??? and the Snitch leapt into the F**k You, desperately trying to start the engine.
“Forget the lemon!” cried Prettybuttercup, “let’s save our skins!” Achy Breaky Heart, however, still refused to let go of the lemon, clutching it tight to his chest.
“DROP THE SOUR YELLOW CITRUS FRUIT” commanded Donny-Spirit.
“I won’t!” cried ABH, but just as Donny-Spirit prepared to blast him, Cowpoke Pete staggered to his feet, punched his boss and dragged him towards the door, knowing it was necessary that they leave. And so the battle was won, the lemon rolling from the unconscious Achy Breaky Heart’s hand and stopping at Donny-Spirit’s feet.
.......................................
It was a few minutes later. Thanks to his holy connection to the true god of all birds, Donny had saved the day, and retrieved the all-important lemon. Now, the Spirit had left his mind, and he was more-or-less his normal self again- but significantly more awesome. Achy Breaky Heart and his surviving followers had run off, while the members of the Villainous Order of 13 had sailed out of the dock. I hope that outcome wasn’t predictable or anything. If you wanted the good guys to lose, I can’t help you. Anyway, many questions now arose, such as what to do next.
“The villains are fleeing the establishment without paying or apologizing” reported a penguin, “shall we retaliate and cause further senseless violence?” However, shaken by both the attack on his Speakeasy and the attack on his soul by Proper Gander, Pedro was in no mood for vengeance against Achy Breaky Heart or the Gummi Bears.
“I want no inquiries made. I want no acts of vengeance. I want you to arrange a meeting, with the heads of the Five Families. This war stops now” he commanded. He turned to Donny. “As for you, my dear friend Donny, how can I ever repay you, for saving both my speakeasy and my soul?”
“Well, er, you could arrange transportation to the Tower of Babel for us, and agree to the treaty and trade agreement with the British”.
“It is done!” said Pedro cheerfully, clapping the boy on the back with his flipper.
“Jolly good” said the Queen happily, “at last One has succeeded in restoring enough booty for Britain that it can lord over the other countries in the Infighting Nations once again”. She turned to Donny. “Kneel” she commanded, and Donny did so. Borrowing Sneeralot’s sword, the Queen made him a knight of the realm there and then, as promised. “Rise, Sir Donny Tulip” she commanded. Tom, Whippy-man and the penguins cheered, and the Apathetic Weasel said “woo-hoo” in a half-hearted manner. Sneeralot merely looked scandalized.
“And now accept my reward” said Pedro, “Paulie?” Little Penguin Paulie stood aside to reveal a rocket-car with room for several people and a stylish exterior coating. “As promised, speedy transportation. Also, if ever you require assistance, call upon the penguins, and we shall march to your aid”.
“Thank you, good penguin” said Donny warmly, “and what of you, Whippy-man- what shall you do?”
“I shall join your quest, Donny. For only by defeating Teppup can I bring justice back into the world of Ice-cream” said the Many-Flavoured Knight.
There was still one more question, though. “What do we do with the lemon?” asked Tom. Sneeralot spoke up. “The lemon is the property of the squirrels, from the Hills of Spandecularrism. I know, because I once represented Her Majesty at a diplomatic conference there, and Ambassador Squirrel Chang told me all about it”.
The Queen then spoke up. “You have performed a great service for Queen and Country, Sir Donny Tulip, and thus One will undertake the journey to return the lemon to the squirrels Oneself. It will be quite protected; no-one will dare attack the castle”.
“Thank you, Your Majesty” said Donny, beaming. And so the lemon set off on its journey to the squirrels (have you noticed the irony in the fact that this means the heroes are actually helping the villain’s plan? Have you? Eh? Hee hee), and Donny, Tom, the Apathetic Weasel, Whippy-man AKA Swirly McToothdecay and Penguin Lord Hubblebottom left the Speakeasy in high spirits. Donny was now far more impressive than he ever was before; it seemed he might be granted ULTIMATE POWER after all.
.........
Achy Breaky Heart was not in high spirits. In fact, he was moping. He sat by the seashore, listlessly. Cowpoke Pete and the Synonymous Syndicate stood nearby, unsure what to do now the plan had failed utterly. Soon, however, the F**k You pulled up, and Mr. Prettybuttercup stepped out to greet his old master.
“What do you want?” asked ABH, bitterly.
“I feel bad about betraying you” said Prettybuttercup, “I know how much you loved the lemon. You don’t have the lemon now, and this is as it must be, and I can only hope that without your anti-squirrel spray to stop them, the squirrels will be able to reclaim it. But you, Pete and the Synonymous Syndicate need not feel defeated. Come, join the Villainous Order of 13 as henchvillains. Take out your frustration, anger and bitterness not on deserving targets like me but instead on innocent people who have done no wrong”.
Achy Breaky Heart looked marginally brighter. He nodded acceptance, then rose. “I now have nothing to live for; I may as well assist Teppup in conquering the world. Very well, Prettybuttercup, I shall join you”. Prettybuttercup smiled.
“Climb aboard, then, Achy Breaky Heart. Since the Americans voted not to film our impressive display, we need to work extra hard to attain worthiness for ULTIMATE POWER. Let us prepare for the signalling flares from Hell, Hollywood and Jurassic Park, upon which the impressive display will begin”. The newly reconciled villains climbed aboard their ship.
“Yarrgh” said Captain Unpleasant, “Be this latest character development a f*****g cop-out or what? Why are ABH and his gang okay with us now? And why has the m**********g Snitch not been dumped overboard for messing up the ****** plan?”
“We’re villains, Captain” said Achy Breaky Heart, “villains forgive”.
Sorry to bump this up- nearly done. Here’s chapters 19-22 of 26.
Chapter Nineteen: And several plotlines are resolved or else move on in a believable fashion. Clearing the decks, basically.
So, the speakeasy was about to break out into open warfare. Not since General Washcloth of Bathwater led the campaign against the tipsy tipplers of Rum-tum-tum had so many alcoholic beverages been in peril of battlefield spillage. All that stood between the precious, life-giving hooch and hoards of marauding Gummi Bears were the penguin mobsters, Whippy-man and the Queen’s castle. In fact, it was Her Majesty who fired the first shot, taking out several Gummi Bears with a well-aimed Puff Pastry. Furious, the remaining Bears attacked, but several were accidently trampled by Cowpoke Pete, who was charging across the room towards Prettybuttercup, swirling his lasso above his head. Prettybuttercup, expecting this assault from his hated rival, was well prepared. Picking up the Snitch, he threw him at Pete with all his strength. Shrieking, the Snitch came down right on top of Pete, who was knocked to the ground. Before he could rise again, the Gummi Bears came charging back the other way, pursued by the penguins. Trampled by tiny gelatinous stumps and wet flippers, Cowpoke Pete was clearly out of the fight.
Meanwhile, Achy Breaky Heart, desperate to reclaim the lemon, lunged for the Apathetic Weasel, but was knocked backwards by a blast of pure Begging-Extinction energy from the Spirit of the Dodo. Pulsing with B-E power, Achy Breaky Heart was then set upon by Whippy-man, who proceeded to pummel him senseless, as all truly noble superheroes would. By this point, the Snitch, either hoping to reclaim the lemon as planned, or else just get away from Prettybuttercup, ran towards the heroes’ side of the room. Cunningly, however, he first grabbed a penguin, knowing that the Spirit would not harm a loyal bird worshipper.
“You coward, Snitch!” cried Tom, “release your hostage!”
Fat Pedro leapt through the air, hoping to tackle the Snitch to the ground, but he missed and hit ??? instead, sending both sprawling. Having made it past Donny/the Spirit, the Snitch jumped on the Apathetic Weasel, grabbing for the lemon.
“Oh no. I have lost the lemon” said the weasel, from face-down on the floor. It made no effort to move itself, despite not being seriously hurt.
“Well done, Snitch!” cried Prettybuttercup, momentarily forgiving him, but then the surviving Gummi Bears swarmed the Snitch, trying to steal back the lemon for their God-emperor, Achy Breaky Heart. However, Whippy-man then engaged the Gummi Bears, flicking them in all directions with his fingers.
“He’s immune to their sugary attacks!” cried Penguin Lord Hubblebottom triumphantly, “for his great reserves of ice-cream have allowed him to build up tolerance for it.”
Meanwhile again, the penguins were fighting the Synonymous Syndicate. Realizing that Proper Gander was urging the penguins on, in order to justify his story of being sent to direct a holy war, Achy Breaky Heart, still bruised from Whippy-man’s assault, began strangling the goose, who squawked in alarm.
“WELL DONE, ACHY BREAKY HEART!” said the Spirit, approvingly.
“Oh no!” cried Tom, “the Spirit thinks Achy Breaky Heart is a friend of the birds!” Indeed, the possessed Donny seemed to now want to give the lemon back to Achy Breaky Heart. With a blast of Begging-Extinction energy, Whippy-man, who had successfully gotten the lemon from the Snitch and the Gummis, was suddenly evolutionarily-challenged. He was immediately set upon by Captain Unpleasant, who smashed a rum barrel over his head. The lemon rolled away, and Achy Breaky Heart grabbed it. Renewed by the reconciliation with his beloved fruit, he cried, “Remaining Gummis! Destroy the Penguins! Nothing can stop us so long as the lemon is mine!” The Gummis charged once more, weapons waving. “Fire!” cried Pedro to his allies, but...
“We’re out of Puff Pastries!” called Sneeralot. The Queen hurled her slipper, but it wasn’t enough to take out all the Gummi Bears. Was this the end for the valiant defenders? Did all seem lost? Again? Possibly. It was time for our hero to step in and save the day. In fact, knowing that the Spirit had made the wrong decision, Tom was begging Donny to reassert his influence. “Please, Donny!” he said, “we have two goals here; defeating the villains and so protecting the speakeasy, and saving the penguin’s souls. The Spirit is only doing one. You must control the channelling in order to achieve both goals!”
“Only if you want to, mind” said the Apathetic Weasel, still face-down on the floor and so slightly muffled, “we don’t want you to feel pressurized”.
But Donny, buried deep inside the Sprit, knew he had to. Focusing with all his strength, all his soul, he heroically forced his will upwards, and managed to attain equal influence with the Spirit. For finally Donny had achieved his own religious destiny, rather than simply relying on a fat dead bird. It was an important step towards manhood. Together, the two souls now spoke. “THIS SPEAKEASY IS UNDER THE PROTECTION OF WE, SPIRIT OF THE DODO AND DONNY TULIP. TOGETHER, WE USE THE POWER OF OUR MINDS TO BANISH PROPER GANDER”
Combining Begging-Extinction energy with the small, wet dishcloth of Offense, the two threw the small, wet dishcloth of Natural Selection. It hit Proper Gander in the face, and found him unfit to thrive in such a competitive eco-system. “Oh, crap” he said, as he disappeared in a puff of smoke. Instantly, the penguins felt their minds clearing, and they felt like their old selves again.
“ALSO” thundered Donny-Spirit, “TOGETHER WE USE THE POWER OF OUR MINDS TO ATTACK THE VILLAINS!” With another blast of energy, every bottle in the speakeasy leapt into the air, before bearing down upon the invaders, exploding, and showering them in fragments of jagged glass. The surviving Gummis fled in terror, many with limbs or heads torn off. Prettybuttercup, Captain Unpleasant, ??? and the Snitch leapt into the F**k You, desperately trying to start the engine.
“Forget the lemon!” cried Prettybuttercup, “let’s save our skins!” Achy Breaky Heart, however, still refused to let go of the lemon, clutching it tight to his chest.
“DROP THE SOUR YELLOW CITRUS FRUIT” commanded Donny-Spirit.
“I won’t!” cried ABH, but just as Donny-Spirit prepared to blast him, Cowpoke Pete staggered to his feet, punched his boss and dragged him towards the door, knowing it was necessary that they leave. And so the battle was won, the lemon rolling from the unconscious Achy Breaky Heart’s hand and stopping at Donny-Spirit’s feet.
.......................................
It was a few minutes later. Thanks to his holy connection to the true god of all birds, Donny had saved the day, and retrieved the all-important lemon. Now, the Spirit had left his mind, and he was more-or-less his normal self again- but significantly more awesome. Achy Breaky Heart and his surviving followers had run off, while the members of the Villainous Order of 13 had sailed out of the dock. I hope that outcome wasn’t predictable or anything. If you wanted the good guys to lose, I can’t help you. Anyway, many questions now arose, such as what to do next.
“The villains are fleeing the establishment without paying or apologizing” reported a penguin, “shall we retaliate and cause further senseless violence?” However, shaken by both the attack on his Speakeasy and the attack on his soul by Proper Gander, Pedro was in no mood for vengeance against Achy Breaky Heart or the Gummi Bears.
“I want no inquiries made. I want no acts of vengeance. I want you to arrange a meeting, with the heads of the Five Families. This war stops now” he commanded. He turned to Donny. “As for you, my dear friend Donny, how can I ever repay you, for saving both my speakeasy and my soul?”
“Well, er, you could arrange transportation to the Tower of Babel for us, and agree to the treaty and trade agreement with the British”.
“It is done!” said Pedro cheerfully, clapping the boy on the back with his flipper.
“Jolly good” said the Queen happily, “at last One has succeeded in restoring enough booty for Britain that it can lord over the other countries in the Infighting Nations once again”. She turned to Donny. “Kneel” she commanded, and Donny did so. Borrowing Sneeralot’s sword, the Queen made him a knight of the realm there and then, as promised. “Rise, Sir Donny Tulip” she commanded. Tom, Whippy-man and the penguins cheered, and the Apathetic Weasel said “woo-hoo” in a half-hearted manner. Sneeralot merely looked scandalized.
“And now accept my reward” said Pedro, “Paulie?” Little Penguin Paulie stood aside to reveal a rocket-car with room for several people and a stylish exterior coating. “As promised, speedy transportation. Also, if ever you require assistance, call upon the penguins, and we shall march to your aid”.
“Thank you, good penguin” said Donny warmly, “and what of you, Whippy-man- what shall you do?”
“I shall join your quest, Donny. For only by defeating Teppup can I bring justice back into the world of Ice-cream” said the Many-Flavoured Knight.
There was still one more question, though. “What do we do with the lemon?” asked Tom. Sneeralot spoke up. “The lemon is the property of the squirrels, from the Hills of Spandecularrism. I know, because I once represented Her Majesty at a diplomatic conference there, and Ambassador Squirrel Chang told me all about it”.
The Queen then spoke up. “You have performed a great service for Queen and Country, Sir Donny Tulip, and thus One will undertake the journey to return the lemon to the squirrels Oneself. It will be quite protected; no-one will dare attack the castle”.
“Thank you, Your Majesty” said Donny, beaming. And so the lemon set off on its journey to the squirrels (have you noticed the irony in the fact that this means the heroes are actually helping the villain’s plan? Have you? Eh? Hee hee), and Donny, Tom, the Apathetic Weasel, Whippy-man AKA Swirly McToothdecay and Penguin Lord Hubblebottom left the Speakeasy in high spirits. Donny was now far more impressive than he ever was before; it seemed he might be granted ULTIMATE POWER after all.
.........
Achy Breaky Heart was not in high spirits. In fact, he was moping. He sat by the seashore, listlessly. Cowpoke Pete and the Synonymous Syndicate stood nearby, unsure what to do now the plan had failed utterly. Soon, however, the F**k You pulled up, and Mr. Prettybuttercup stepped out to greet his old master.
“What do you want?” asked ABH, bitterly.
“I feel bad about betraying you” said Prettybuttercup, “I know how much you loved the lemon. You don’t have the lemon now, and this is as it must be, and I can only hope that without your anti-squirrel spray to stop them, the squirrels will be able to reclaim it. But you, Pete and the Synonymous Syndicate need not feel defeated. Come, join the Villainous Order of 13 as henchvillains. Take out your frustration, anger and bitterness not on deserving targets like me but instead on innocent people who have done no wrong”.
Achy Breaky Heart looked marginally brighter. He nodded acceptance, then rose. “I now have nothing to live for; I may as well assist Teppup in conquering the world. Very well, Prettybuttercup, I shall join you”. Prettybuttercup smiled.
“Climb aboard, then, Achy Breaky Heart. Since the Americans voted not to film our impressive display, we need to work extra hard to attain worthiness for ULTIMATE POWER. Let us prepare for the signalling flares from Hell, Hollywood and Jurassic Park, upon which the impressive display will begin”. The newly reconciled villains climbed aboard their ship.
“Yarrgh” said Captain Unpleasant, “Be this latest character development a f*****g cop-out or what? Why are ABH and his gang okay with us now? And why has the m**********g Snitch not been dumped overboard for messing up the ****** plan?”
“We’re villains, Captain” said Achy Breaky Heart, “villains forgive”.
Re: My old story has returned, so I'll share it. Warning- really, weir
Chapter Twenty: Let’s see what the Bus Driver can do
As this was all transpiring in the speakeasy, back in the City Donny’s parents had worked out what was going on. A rummage through their drawers had revealed the old prophecy, set aside by Mr. Henry Tulip almost 14 years earlier. They now knew the truth, but, realizing that their son was on a quest to fulfil his destiny and save the world from evil, Mr. Henry Tulip and Mrs. Drusilla Tulip didn’t feel much better. As they were deciding what to do about it, and whether Donny should be grounded, they and the Music Man received an urgent phone call from Professor Emu, who was currently on the run, apparently. Because mobiles don’t work on flying cows (remember?) he and his party had been forced to temporarily set down at Mrs. Butteridge’s Bed and Breakfast. Emu told them all the remaining details, and how he was headed to the Tower of Babel, where the final battle would soon be taking place. The couple were now even more concerned about their son, and decided they would have to come to his aid, to ensure he was okay.
“Only one inhabitant of the City is capable of getting us to the Tower before it’s too late” said Mrs. Drusilla Tulip, “it’s time we all saw what the Bus Driver can do when his bus isn’t being stolen”.
They located the Bus Driver in the pub, having a few pints before his busy day ahead driving public transportation. They made it known to him that they needed urgent transport to the Tower of Babel as soon as possible, and that he was quite probably the only hope for their son and the entire world. The Bus Driver considered this, but decided to be grouchy.
“I don’t take people on my bus for free” he said, “how exactly are you to compensate me for my time and services?” Mr. Henry Tulip and Mrs. Drusilla Tulip looked crestfallen, for in the confusion they had forgotten to bring their wallets, and there was no time to run and fetch them. However, the Music Man was much better prepared, and now he stepped forward to address the Bus Driver.
“I am the Music Man. I come from down your way. And I can pay”.
“What can you pay?” asked the Bus Driver.
“I can pay £20” said the Music Man, waving his wallet. The Bus Driver agreed that this was more than enough, and gave instructions to be at the Bus Station in ten minutes. After finishing his eighth pint, he staggered round to the Station to find a rather lengthy queue standing outside his bus. Mr. Henry Tulip and Mrs. Drusilla Tulip stood at the head, waving to him. The Bus Driver grimaced; he hated people. Why they were always pestering him for rides, he didn’t know. Did they think his bus was some sort of taxi?
“I was only expecting three passengers” he said, testily, “why do you all wish to board?”
Everyone began talking at once, and the Bus Driver put his hands over his ears. “One at a time!” he commanded, “step aboard one at a time and tell me”. He climbed into the bus, took his seat, and beckoned the Tulips aboard.
“We must find our son, Donny...” began Mrs. Drusilla Tulip.
“Yes, yes, I know your reason” said the Bus Driver, “and I know the Music Man is assisting you; climb aboard all three of you”. The trio took their seats, after Music Man handed over the £20 note. Next in the queue came two young boys, Sam and Wilbur to be precise. They stepped aboard eagerly.
“We were present when the adventure began, but were not permitted to accompany Donny” they explained, “we have to help him and Tom, because they’re our friends”.
The Bus Driver had heard of friends once or twice, and assumed they were some sort of emergency rations, because why else would one wish to have other people around them for lengthy periods of time?
“Okay, so far so good” he said, “but what about you others?” The first of these extras to step aboard was Joe, wearing his hat and freshly polished glasses.
“Well” said Joe, “I’m here to prove, once and for all, that it wasn’t me who stole the bus, and that I wasn’t raiding lost tombs for dangerous religious artifacts”. As he finished, his backpack burst open, revealing hideous thrashing tentacles of plasma energy and an eerie, glowing blue light. “Ignore the Dread Spirit of Holy Judgement” commanded Joe, without looking at it.
Scowling, the Bus Driver reluctantly allowed Joe to board. Behind him came Wildlife Documenter Rachael. “Why do you wish to come, Rachael?” asked the Bus Driver.
Rachael answered excitedly; “My sources in the field tell me that Donny has been seen with the super-rare Apathetic Weasel. Many wildlife documenters have attempted to film this elusive creature over the years, but it simply cannot be motivated to participate. This is a rare opportunity for one of my profession. I intend to cut its tail off and stick socks into its ears, to see how it will react”.
The Bus Driver permitted her to take her seat. “We have one passenger left to board” said Mr. Henry Tulip. The Bus Driver looked towards the door but saw no-one.
“No, look down” advised Mr. Henry Tulip. The Bus Driver looked down. The Duck of Doom was standing on the step, staring up.
“The Duck wants to come?!” exclaimed the Bus Driver, “why?!”
The Duck of Doom fixed them with its beady eye.
“I think it wishes to encounter its god, the Falcon, during the final battle” said Joe, “and thus learn how to commit even more dastardly deeds and acts of mayhem”.
The Duck inclined its head ever so slightly, never taking its eye off of them.
“A pilgrimage, eh?” asked the Bus Driver.
The Duck inclined its head once again.
“Very well, come aboard” said the Bus Driver. The Duck hopped up the steps, before waddling comically to the rear and jumping up onto a seat. It ruffled its feathers and settled down.
“It’s heart-warming to see so many of our neighbours willing to drop everything and ride into battle with us” said Mrs. Drusilla Tulip, “it speaks well of our City that its inhabitants are possessed of such selfless hearts”.
Joe, Rachael and the Duck all nodded. “Selfless consideration, yep, that’s it” said Rachael. “No room for self-serving excuses here, no-siree” agreed Joe.
“We’d better get moving” advised the Music Man, “a-one, a-two, a-one-two-three”. He pointed at the driver’s box, and the Bus Driver began manipulating the controls.
“Firing up the engine!” he barked. “Mr. Henry Tulip, the bell!” Mr. Henry Tulip ran to comply, ringing the bell to signify departure.
“Joe! The safety procedure!”
“Okay, everyone, listen up” said Joe, clapping his hands, “the emergency exit is situated on the far left, behind the Duck. In the event of a crash, crawl pathetically in its general direction and attempt to open it. In the event of shark attack, stand on your seats and keep your extremities clear of the water. In the event of Household Appliance uprising...”
“Music Man! The heavy metal!” Saluting, the Music Man whipped out his electric guitar, and struck several discordant notes at full volume. As the engine revved up to full power, the Music Man began an appropriately dramatic and badass performance. “Let’s get ready to ROCK!” screamed the Bus Driver, and everyone cheered. Sam and Wilbur immediately began smashing up the seats in front of them, while Joe opened up his backpack, releasing the Dread Spirit of Holy Judgement, which shrieked insanely and created even more of an atmosphere. Soon, everyone was suitably psyched up for a ride into battle. Firecrackers shot off from the exhaust as the bus launched into action, bursting out of the Bus Station and skidding round the corner. Joe, whooping loudly, tore off his shirt. The Music Man began smashing his guitar against the floor, sending sparks shooting in all directions. Wildlife Documenter Rachael threw her underpants at the Duck of Doom, to see how it would react; the Duck waggled its eyebrows at her. Sam and Wilbur began playing imaginary guitars of their own. Mr. Henry Tulip had fallen asleep and was drooling into his lap. Mrs. Drusilla Tulip pulled out her sandwiches and began to unwrap them, settling down for the long journey.
“Put your foot on it, Bus Driver!” cried the Music Man, “we’ve got a gig to crash!” And the Bus tore off into the distance, on its way to assist our heroes. Think about that for a moment. Think of all the times you personally have stolen a bus. Now think of what might have been accomplished by the forces of good, if only the Bus Driver had access to that vehicle. People may have died because that bus wasn’t available, and the Bus Driver couldn’t show the world what he’s made of. Consider that, and feel shame.
.................
Meanwhile, another vehicle was speeding across the landscape headed for the Tower. Donny and his companions had all squeezed into the rocket car and were speeding along at 200 miles per hour when suddenly a small animal nearly ran in front of them. “
Stop! Turn back!” said Tom, “we nearly hit that animal!”
Pulling over, the heroes ran to see if it was okay. It was a small canine, with a happy grin on its face. “Who are you, friend animal?” wondered Donny.
The canine giggled. “Oh, hello” it said cheerfully, “I’m the Little Dog”.
Chapter Twenty: Let’s see what the Bus Driver can do
As this was all transpiring in the speakeasy, back in the City Donny’s parents had worked out what was going on. A rummage through their drawers had revealed the old prophecy, set aside by Mr. Henry Tulip almost 14 years earlier. They now knew the truth, but, realizing that their son was on a quest to fulfil his destiny and save the world from evil, Mr. Henry Tulip and Mrs. Drusilla Tulip didn’t feel much better. As they were deciding what to do about it, and whether Donny should be grounded, they and the Music Man received an urgent phone call from Professor Emu, who was currently on the run, apparently. Because mobiles don’t work on flying cows (remember?) he and his party had been forced to temporarily set down at Mrs. Butteridge’s Bed and Breakfast. Emu told them all the remaining details, and how he was headed to the Tower of Babel, where the final battle would soon be taking place. The couple were now even more concerned about their son, and decided they would have to come to his aid, to ensure he was okay.
“Only one inhabitant of the City is capable of getting us to the Tower before it’s too late” said Mrs. Drusilla Tulip, “it’s time we all saw what the Bus Driver can do when his bus isn’t being stolen”.
They located the Bus Driver in the pub, having a few pints before his busy day ahead driving public transportation. They made it known to him that they needed urgent transport to the Tower of Babel as soon as possible, and that he was quite probably the only hope for their son and the entire world. The Bus Driver considered this, but decided to be grouchy.
“I don’t take people on my bus for free” he said, “how exactly are you to compensate me for my time and services?” Mr. Henry Tulip and Mrs. Drusilla Tulip looked crestfallen, for in the confusion they had forgotten to bring their wallets, and there was no time to run and fetch them. However, the Music Man was much better prepared, and now he stepped forward to address the Bus Driver.
“I am the Music Man. I come from down your way. And I can pay”.
“What can you pay?” asked the Bus Driver.
“I can pay £20” said the Music Man, waving his wallet. The Bus Driver agreed that this was more than enough, and gave instructions to be at the Bus Station in ten minutes. After finishing his eighth pint, he staggered round to the Station to find a rather lengthy queue standing outside his bus. Mr. Henry Tulip and Mrs. Drusilla Tulip stood at the head, waving to him. The Bus Driver grimaced; he hated people. Why they were always pestering him for rides, he didn’t know. Did they think his bus was some sort of taxi?
“I was only expecting three passengers” he said, testily, “why do you all wish to board?”
Everyone began talking at once, and the Bus Driver put his hands over his ears. “One at a time!” he commanded, “step aboard one at a time and tell me”. He climbed into the bus, took his seat, and beckoned the Tulips aboard.
“We must find our son, Donny...” began Mrs. Drusilla Tulip.
“Yes, yes, I know your reason” said the Bus Driver, “and I know the Music Man is assisting you; climb aboard all three of you”. The trio took their seats, after Music Man handed over the £20 note. Next in the queue came two young boys, Sam and Wilbur to be precise. They stepped aboard eagerly.
“We were present when the adventure began, but were not permitted to accompany Donny” they explained, “we have to help him and Tom, because they’re our friends”.
The Bus Driver had heard of friends once or twice, and assumed they were some sort of emergency rations, because why else would one wish to have other people around them for lengthy periods of time?
“Okay, so far so good” he said, “but what about you others?” The first of these extras to step aboard was Joe, wearing his hat and freshly polished glasses.
“Well” said Joe, “I’m here to prove, once and for all, that it wasn’t me who stole the bus, and that I wasn’t raiding lost tombs for dangerous religious artifacts”. As he finished, his backpack burst open, revealing hideous thrashing tentacles of plasma energy and an eerie, glowing blue light. “Ignore the Dread Spirit of Holy Judgement” commanded Joe, without looking at it.
Scowling, the Bus Driver reluctantly allowed Joe to board. Behind him came Wildlife Documenter Rachael. “Why do you wish to come, Rachael?” asked the Bus Driver.
Rachael answered excitedly; “My sources in the field tell me that Donny has been seen with the super-rare Apathetic Weasel. Many wildlife documenters have attempted to film this elusive creature over the years, but it simply cannot be motivated to participate. This is a rare opportunity for one of my profession. I intend to cut its tail off and stick socks into its ears, to see how it will react”.
The Bus Driver permitted her to take her seat. “We have one passenger left to board” said Mr. Henry Tulip. The Bus Driver looked towards the door but saw no-one.
“No, look down” advised Mr. Henry Tulip. The Bus Driver looked down. The Duck of Doom was standing on the step, staring up.
“The Duck wants to come?!” exclaimed the Bus Driver, “why?!”
The Duck of Doom fixed them with its beady eye.
“I think it wishes to encounter its god, the Falcon, during the final battle” said Joe, “and thus learn how to commit even more dastardly deeds and acts of mayhem”.
The Duck inclined its head ever so slightly, never taking its eye off of them.
“A pilgrimage, eh?” asked the Bus Driver.
The Duck inclined its head once again.
“Very well, come aboard” said the Bus Driver. The Duck hopped up the steps, before waddling comically to the rear and jumping up onto a seat. It ruffled its feathers and settled down.
“It’s heart-warming to see so many of our neighbours willing to drop everything and ride into battle with us” said Mrs. Drusilla Tulip, “it speaks well of our City that its inhabitants are possessed of such selfless hearts”.
Joe, Rachael and the Duck all nodded. “Selfless consideration, yep, that’s it” said Rachael. “No room for self-serving excuses here, no-siree” agreed Joe.
“We’d better get moving” advised the Music Man, “a-one, a-two, a-one-two-three”. He pointed at the driver’s box, and the Bus Driver began manipulating the controls.
“Firing up the engine!” he barked. “Mr. Henry Tulip, the bell!” Mr. Henry Tulip ran to comply, ringing the bell to signify departure.
“Joe! The safety procedure!”
“Okay, everyone, listen up” said Joe, clapping his hands, “the emergency exit is situated on the far left, behind the Duck. In the event of a crash, crawl pathetically in its general direction and attempt to open it. In the event of shark attack, stand on your seats and keep your extremities clear of the water. In the event of Household Appliance uprising...”
“Music Man! The heavy metal!” Saluting, the Music Man whipped out his electric guitar, and struck several discordant notes at full volume. As the engine revved up to full power, the Music Man began an appropriately dramatic and badass performance. “Let’s get ready to ROCK!” screamed the Bus Driver, and everyone cheered. Sam and Wilbur immediately began smashing up the seats in front of them, while Joe opened up his backpack, releasing the Dread Spirit of Holy Judgement, which shrieked insanely and created even more of an atmosphere. Soon, everyone was suitably psyched up for a ride into battle. Firecrackers shot off from the exhaust as the bus launched into action, bursting out of the Bus Station and skidding round the corner. Joe, whooping loudly, tore off his shirt. The Music Man began smashing his guitar against the floor, sending sparks shooting in all directions. Wildlife Documenter Rachael threw her underpants at the Duck of Doom, to see how it would react; the Duck waggled its eyebrows at her. Sam and Wilbur began playing imaginary guitars of their own. Mr. Henry Tulip had fallen asleep and was drooling into his lap. Mrs. Drusilla Tulip pulled out her sandwiches and began to unwrap them, settling down for the long journey.
“Put your foot on it, Bus Driver!” cried the Music Man, “we’ve got a gig to crash!” And the Bus tore off into the distance, on its way to assist our heroes. Think about that for a moment. Think of all the times you personally have stolen a bus. Now think of what might have been accomplished by the forces of good, if only the Bus Driver had access to that vehicle. People may have died because that bus wasn’t available, and the Bus Driver couldn’t show the world what he’s made of. Consider that, and feel shame.
.................
Meanwhile, another vehicle was speeding across the landscape headed for the Tower. Donny and his companions had all squeezed into the rocket car and were speeding along at 200 miles per hour when suddenly a small animal nearly ran in front of them. “
Stop! Turn back!” said Tom, “we nearly hit that animal!”
Pulling over, the heroes ran to see if it was okay. It was a small canine, with a happy grin on its face. “Who are you, friend animal?” wondered Donny.
The canine giggled. “Oh, hello” it said cheerfully, “I’m the Little Dog”.
Re: My old story has returned, so I'll share it. Warning- really, weir
Chapter Twenty-One: Badgers? Why the hell badgers?
Donny Tulip and his friends felt terrible about almost running the Little Dog over in their rocket car, but the cheerful canine seemed to be taking it okay. He brushed aside the heroes’ heartfelt apologies, before inquiring innocently, “why were you in such a hurry, anyway? There’s nothing in that direction save the Tower of Babel and the Fortress of the Purple Badgers”.
“Fortress of the Purple Badgers?” asked Donny, suddenly much interested, “why, it was those mysterious creatures who originally wrote the prophecy, before being wiped out by hunters. They knew of my existence long before I was born!”
Usually, of course, he wouldn’t have been talking about the prophecy or his quest in front of strangers, but the Little Dog was so cute and cheerful that no-one thought him a threat.
“Surely you aren’t suggesting a detour to the Fortress?” asked Whippy-man, aghast, “we must continue to the Tower!”
“If we don’t get there before Teppup and the villains, Croakers Jones will bestow upon them ULTIMATE POWER!” said Tom.
Donny knew this, but the mystery of the prophecy had been eating away at him for days now. How could the purple badgers, a race with no connection to his family, extinct since long before his birth, have known of his destiny? The thought that he might attain knowledge of the prophecy’s origins excited him, and he couldn’t resist this opportunity. He explained this to his friends, and asked the Little Dog to take them there, if it would be so kind.
“I’ll show you the exact way!” promised the cheerful canine.
“You’re too kind, good dog” said Donny. As the Fortress was off the main roads, they parked the rocket-car and proceeded on foot. “You stay and guard the rocket car” said Donny to the Apathetic Weasel. Tom, Whippy-man and Penguin Lord Hubblebottom accompanied our young hero.
“This way, good sirs!” sniggered the Little Dog. Donny kept pace with him as they went along, but the others held back slightly.
“I’m not sure I trust this dog” said Tom, who was somewhat concerned with Donny’s willingness to follow the creature.
“I agree” said Whippy-man, “If anything, his jovial manner and sinisterly smiling expression reminds me of my arch-nemesis, the Choker. Unable to swallow ice-cream successfully due to its being too cold for him, the Choker takes his revenge upon all those happy folk who do know the joys of ice-cream. He finds amusement in torturing and tormenting others. I will not allow this dog out of my sight for a minute”.
The walk was quite lengthy, but eventually they came to the ruins of what once had been a thriving settlement. “As promised!” said the Dog “the Fortress of the Purple Badgers!” The friends looked around at the impressive ruins, and Donny smiled happily.
“Surely in here there are clues or records hinting at or explaining the origins of the prophecy” he said.
“There are papers, my friend! Many papers explaining all!” insisted their guide. Donny was delighted.
“Where exactly are these papers?”
“In the dangerous pit of poisonous snakes” said the Little Dog, pointing to a crevasse in the corner of the room.
“It’s too dark down there” said Donny, stretching his neck to look.
“Lean over precariously and you shall see” advised the Dog. Somewhat suspiciously, the four heroes did so, bending over to look down into the pit.
“I’d better stand directly behind you, so as to ensure gnomes do not appear and bite your ankles” said the Dog.
Just as he prepared to push our heroes into the pit, however, a voice sounded out loud and clear. “Hold!”
Everyone whirled to see a fat tabby cat standing by the side of the road. The heroes were saved; the Cat had arrived.
“Hey, Diddle-Diddle!” he called.
“Oh no, not the Cat!” moaned the Dog, “he always ruins my fun!”
The Cat frowned. “So, Little Dog, we meet again. What dastardly mischief are you engaged in this time? Know you no shame? First you find it funny to sell out the flying green cows to aliens. Then you find it funny to run through the orphanage firing a sub-machine gun. Then you find it funny to burn down the refuge of the St. Sophie’s Sisters of Charity. What do you intend to do here?”
“I was only going to push them into the deadly snake pit” said the Dog, pouting.
“I knew he was up to no good!” cried Whippy-man.
“Indeed” purred the Cat “It’s lucky I have dedicated my life to pursuing this miscreant, or else you would have been in serious trouble. In fact...”
“Look out!” cried Tom, but it was too late. For the Little Dog, seeing the pretence was now useless, pulled out a stick of dynamite. He threw it, and everyone was caught in the blast. They landed in an undignified heap, not too badly hurt but bruised and burnt. The Little Dog laughed to see such fun, and prepared to throw another stick. Just as he picked it up, however, the sound of an engine was heard. Crashing into the Fortress came a vehicle, bearing down on the Dog.
“It’s the Apathetic Weasel! In the rocket-car!” cried Tom.
Yelping, the Little Dog tried to get out of the way, but was knocked flying, spinning out of the Fortress and into the hedge. Bruised and bleeding, he then turned and ran. “You guys are no fun at all!” he cursed as he fled.
“I must pursue the villain!” cried the Cat, running after him “farewell, Donny! We shall meet again!”
The duo of animals disappeared, leaving Donny and friends blinking confusedly. “Of all our random and pointless encounters, that was possibly the most random and pointless of all” said Tom.
“I made a terrible mistake coming” admitted Donny sadly, as they stepped forward to greet the Apathetic Weasel. As their saviour stepped out of the vehicle, however, it became apparent that it wasn’t the Apathetic Weasel at all. It was, to everyone’s great astonishment, a purple badger.
“But how?!” cried Donny, “all the purple badgers were shot by hunters, years ago!”
“Evidently” said Penguin Lord Hubblebottom, “we were wrong”.
It appeared a detour to the Fortress wasn’t such a terrible mistake after all.
....................
All gathered around the elderly badger as it stepped forward from the rocket-car, smiling benevolently.
“Explain yourself, badger!” cried Donny, “why are you in our rocket-car, and why weren’t we told any badgers were still alive? I heard they were all shot by hunters”. The badger bowed to them.
“Badger Master Adoy I am. Speak in strangely familiar intergalactic syntax I do. Reveal it does the extraterrestrial origins of my race. Sad and haunting my tale is. Tell it to you I shall”.
Donny tingled in anticipation. Finally, he was about to hear the explanation that would reveal to him the origin of the mystical prophecy that outlined his destiny.
Adoy began; “Last of the purple badgers I am. Searched long and hard, I have, in order to knowledge to Donny Tulip bring. Short, time is. Many centuries ago, left their home planet the badgers did. Destroyed by random acts of cauliflower it was. Damaged our spaceship became. Forced to crash on nearest habitable world we were. Earth, this world proved to be. Colonized this planet also, the cauliflower had. But ate it all, we did, and, victorious, in peace we lived. Settled we did, guided by our advanced alien technology, in this Fortress. Situated nearby was the Lily-pond of Destiny. Scientific studies its power proved; allow us to see the future it did. Use, it however, we did not. Victorious over cauliflower we were. Oppose us no foe could, or so thought we. No need to consult our destiny in pond was there. Arrogant, prideful and foolish we were. Peaceful we thought our lives would be. Reckoned without we did, the human hunger for fur coats. Shot and skinned, my people were, by Paulo the hunter. Desperate did we become; consulted at last, we did, the Lilly-pond of Destiny. Learnt then, did we, of future chaos and wars, and the part to be played by Donny Tulip in preventing it. Do it ourselves, we could have. Under our noses the solution did lie, for Croakers Jones, architect of the crisis, born in our lily-pond was. More on this tantalizing subject shall I give later. Too late for us, now it was, but for the world, Donny Tulip remained. Write down prophecy we did. Dead all other purple badgers became. Only survivor I was, concealing myself in crashed spaceship, knowing needed I was if prophecy was to unfold in beneficial manner. Many decades passed, and grew near the time did. Out on his quest, Donny Tulip set. Your path trace I did. Catch cow to Goox-boox I did. Ask directions from Holy Orange Radish of Quum did I. Respects paid at the Dodo Monument, also. Assisted me a thrush there did, telling of your heroism in saving the bird’s souls. Join for cream tea and biscuits the dreaded Old Folk I did, your destination learning. Finally, exhausted and weak, located parked by roadside your rocket-car I did. Asked if the rocket-car borrow I could, the Apathetic Weasel did I”.
There, he stopped. Everyone was shocked by the story so far, but the badger’s pause here finally shook them out of their astonishment, in order to respond.
“I take it the weasel didn’t particularly care, either way?” guessed Donny.
“Correct, you are” said Master Adoy, “so rocket-car I burrowed”.
“I knew we should have left someone else in charge ofthe car” said Tom.
Adoy continued; “here now am I to ensure final fulfillment of prophecy and handy background information now that story’s end grows near”.
Donny sighed in contentment. “So that’s why the purple badgers knew of my existence before my birth, and wrote the prophecy. The Lily-pond of Destiny is the answer. But how does Croakers Jones enter into it? You promised more info?” Adoy nodded.
“Only for purple badgers intended the pond is. For others it to look into, bad is. Born in the pond, Croakers Jones was. No ordinary frog was he. Saturated by the magic of the pond, ability to see future of his loved ones he was, but not his own. In vain those terrible futures he tried to avert. Cynical and angry did he become. Fled Earth in an Alien From Up Above biscuit ship he hijacked, did he. More magical powers develop he did, until secret of ULTIMATE POWER he discovered. Lonely and bitter, he is. Desiring of companionship, hope to encounter beings capable of impressing him he does. Return periodically to Earth to view how progressing things are, he will. Judge, he then does, the inhabitants, to determine worth of their gaining ULTIMATE POWER. Thus my explanatory speech concludes does”.
Donny had listened attentively, overjoyed at finally have his questions answered. One detail remained, though.
“But what exactly was it he saw in the pond? Master Adoy, I must know. I must consult the pond; you said it’s around here”.
Adoy nodded. “In luck you are. For through this reed bed on the left lies the Lilly-pond of Destiny. With your finger little swirly shapes on the pond’s surface make, and know why so cynical and bitter is Croakers Jones, you shall”.
Donny moved to do so, but then paused. “But didn’t you just say only badgers could look into the pond without courting disaster?”
Adoy bowed his head. “Fortunately, quick cop-out solution there is. An honorary badger, make you I can”.
He pulled out a salt-shaker, and baptized Donny there and then, making him part of the ancient and mystic society of the badgers. Thus equipped, Donny prepared to consult the pond.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Donny” warned Whippy-man, “last time we accepted directions from a mysterious talking animal it turned out to be a trap, costing us valuable time and nearly resulting in grievous injury”
“And we need to focus on our mission” added Tom, “we have to get to the Tower of Babel before the villains, or all is lost!”
Donny had made up his mind, though. “Come on guys. I’m about as impressive as I can get. I don’t think I’ll match up to Teppup. But if I can learn Croakers Jones’ secrets, we might just be able to penetrate his hardened exterior and connect with him personally. I must make little swirly shapes on the surface of the pond with my finger. Learn the truth about the magical amphibian I seek, I shall. Blast it! You’ve got me doing it now, Badger!”
“Contrite I am” said Master Adoy, hanging his head. And so, Donny drew aside the reeds and knelt by the pond. He made the swirly shapes, and a soothing voice was heard.
“Welcome to the Lily-pond of Destiny. To view the wonders of the future, make one ripple. To view the secrets of the past, make two”. Donny did the latter. “I wish to see the history of Croakers Jones” he said.
And the pond revealed it....
Chapter Twenty-One: Badgers? Why the hell badgers?
Donny Tulip and his friends felt terrible about almost running the Little Dog over in their rocket car, but the cheerful canine seemed to be taking it okay. He brushed aside the heroes’ heartfelt apologies, before inquiring innocently, “why were you in such a hurry, anyway? There’s nothing in that direction save the Tower of Babel and the Fortress of the Purple Badgers”.
“Fortress of the Purple Badgers?” asked Donny, suddenly much interested, “why, it was those mysterious creatures who originally wrote the prophecy, before being wiped out by hunters. They knew of my existence long before I was born!”
Usually, of course, he wouldn’t have been talking about the prophecy or his quest in front of strangers, but the Little Dog was so cute and cheerful that no-one thought him a threat.
“Surely you aren’t suggesting a detour to the Fortress?” asked Whippy-man, aghast, “we must continue to the Tower!”
“If we don’t get there before Teppup and the villains, Croakers Jones will bestow upon them ULTIMATE POWER!” said Tom.
Donny knew this, but the mystery of the prophecy had been eating away at him for days now. How could the purple badgers, a race with no connection to his family, extinct since long before his birth, have known of his destiny? The thought that he might attain knowledge of the prophecy’s origins excited him, and he couldn’t resist this opportunity. He explained this to his friends, and asked the Little Dog to take them there, if it would be so kind.
“I’ll show you the exact way!” promised the cheerful canine.
“You’re too kind, good dog” said Donny. As the Fortress was off the main roads, they parked the rocket-car and proceeded on foot. “You stay and guard the rocket car” said Donny to the Apathetic Weasel. Tom, Whippy-man and Penguin Lord Hubblebottom accompanied our young hero.
“This way, good sirs!” sniggered the Little Dog. Donny kept pace with him as they went along, but the others held back slightly.
“I’m not sure I trust this dog” said Tom, who was somewhat concerned with Donny’s willingness to follow the creature.
“I agree” said Whippy-man, “If anything, his jovial manner and sinisterly smiling expression reminds me of my arch-nemesis, the Choker. Unable to swallow ice-cream successfully due to its being too cold for him, the Choker takes his revenge upon all those happy folk who do know the joys of ice-cream. He finds amusement in torturing and tormenting others. I will not allow this dog out of my sight for a minute”.
The walk was quite lengthy, but eventually they came to the ruins of what once had been a thriving settlement. “As promised!” said the Dog “the Fortress of the Purple Badgers!” The friends looked around at the impressive ruins, and Donny smiled happily.
“Surely in here there are clues or records hinting at or explaining the origins of the prophecy” he said.
“There are papers, my friend! Many papers explaining all!” insisted their guide. Donny was delighted.
“Where exactly are these papers?”
“In the dangerous pit of poisonous snakes” said the Little Dog, pointing to a crevasse in the corner of the room.
“It’s too dark down there” said Donny, stretching his neck to look.
“Lean over precariously and you shall see” advised the Dog. Somewhat suspiciously, the four heroes did so, bending over to look down into the pit.
“I’d better stand directly behind you, so as to ensure gnomes do not appear and bite your ankles” said the Dog.
Just as he prepared to push our heroes into the pit, however, a voice sounded out loud and clear. “Hold!”
Everyone whirled to see a fat tabby cat standing by the side of the road. The heroes were saved; the Cat had arrived.
“Hey, Diddle-Diddle!” he called.
“Oh no, not the Cat!” moaned the Dog, “he always ruins my fun!”
The Cat frowned. “So, Little Dog, we meet again. What dastardly mischief are you engaged in this time? Know you no shame? First you find it funny to sell out the flying green cows to aliens. Then you find it funny to run through the orphanage firing a sub-machine gun. Then you find it funny to burn down the refuge of the St. Sophie’s Sisters of Charity. What do you intend to do here?”
“I was only going to push them into the deadly snake pit” said the Dog, pouting.
“I knew he was up to no good!” cried Whippy-man.
“Indeed” purred the Cat “It’s lucky I have dedicated my life to pursuing this miscreant, or else you would have been in serious trouble. In fact...”
“Look out!” cried Tom, but it was too late. For the Little Dog, seeing the pretence was now useless, pulled out a stick of dynamite. He threw it, and everyone was caught in the blast. They landed in an undignified heap, not too badly hurt but bruised and burnt. The Little Dog laughed to see such fun, and prepared to throw another stick. Just as he picked it up, however, the sound of an engine was heard. Crashing into the Fortress came a vehicle, bearing down on the Dog.
“It’s the Apathetic Weasel! In the rocket-car!” cried Tom.
Yelping, the Little Dog tried to get out of the way, but was knocked flying, spinning out of the Fortress and into the hedge. Bruised and bleeding, he then turned and ran. “You guys are no fun at all!” he cursed as he fled.
“I must pursue the villain!” cried the Cat, running after him “farewell, Donny! We shall meet again!”
The duo of animals disappeared, leaving Donny and friends blinking confusedly. “Of all our random and pointless encounters, that was possibly the most random and pointless of all” said Tom.
“I made a terrible mistake coming” admitted Donny sadly, as they stepped forward to greet the Apathetic Weasel. As their saviour stepped out of the vehicle, however, it became apparent that it wasn’t the Apathetic Weasel at all. It was, to everyone’s great astonishment, a purple badger.
“But how?!” cried Donny, “all the purple badgers were shot by hunters, years ago!”
“Evidently” said Penguin Lord Hubblebottom, “we were wrong”.
It appeared a detour to the Fortress wasn’t such a terrible mistake after all.
....................
All gathered around the elderly badger as it stepped forward from the rocket-car, smiling benevolently.
“Explain yourself, badger!” cried Donny, “why are you in our rocket-car, and why weren’t we told any badgers were still alive? I heard they were all shot by hunters”. The badger bowed to them.
“Badger Master Adoy I am. Speak in strangely familiar intergalactic syntax I do. Reveal it does the extraterrestrial origins of my race. Sad and haunting my tale is. Tell it to you I shall”.
Donny tingled in anticipation. Finally, he was about to hear the explanation that would reveal to him the origin of the mystical prophecy that outlined his destiny.
Adoy began; “Last of the purple badgers I am. Searched long and hard, I have, in order to knowledge to Donny Tulip bring. Short, time is. Many centuries ago, left their home planet the badgers did. Destroyed by random acts of cauliflower it was. Damaged our spaceship became. Forced to crash on nearest habitable world we were. Earth, this world proved to be. Colonized this planet also, the cauliflower had. But ate it all, we did, and, victorious, in peace we lived. Settled we did, guided by our advanced alien technology, in this Fortress. Situated nearby was the Lily-pond of Destiny. Scientific studies its power proved; allow us to see the future it did. Use, it however, we did not. Victorious over cauliflower we were. Oppose us no foe could, or so thought we. No need to consult our destiny in pond was there. Arrogant, prideful and foolish we were. Peaceful we thought our lives would be. Reckoned without we did, the human hunger for fur coats. Shot and skinned, my people were, by Paulo the hunter. Desperate did we become; consulted at last, we did, the Lilly-pond of Destiny. Learnt then, did we, of future chaos and wars, and the part to be played by Donny Tulip in preventing it. Do it ourselves, we could have. Under our noses the solution did lie, for Croakers Jones, architect of the crisis, born in our lily-pond was. More on this tantalizing subject shall I give later. Too late for us, now it was, but for the world, Donny Tulip remained. Write down prophecy we did. Dead all other purple badgers became. Only survivor I was, concealing myself in crashed spaceship, knowing needed I was if prophecy was to unfold in beneficial manner. Many decades passed, and grew near the time did. Out on his quest, Donny Tulip set. Your path trace I did. Catch cow to Goox-boox I did. Ask directions from Holy Orange Radish of Quum did I. Respects paid at the Dodo Monument, also. Assisted me a thrush there did, telling of your heroism in saving the bird’s souls. Join for cream tea and biscuits the dreaded Old Folk I did, your destination learning. Finally, exhausted and weak, located parked by roadside your rocket-car I did. Asked if the rocket-car borrow I could, the Apathetic Weasel did I”.
There, he stopped. Everyone was shocked by the story so far, but the badger’s pause here finally shook them out of their astonishment, in order to respond.
“I take it the weasel didn’t particularly care, either way?” guessed Donny.
“Correct, you are” said Master Adoy, “so rocket-car I burrowed”.
“I knew we should have left someone else in charge ofthe car” said Tom.
Adoy continued; “here now am I to ensure final fulfillment of prophecy and handy background information now that story’s end grows near”.
Donny sighed in contentment. “So that’s why the purple badgers knew of my existence before my birth, and wrote the prophecy. The Lily-pond of Destiny is the answer. But how does Croakers Jones enter into it? You promised more info?” Adoy nodded.
“Only for purple badgers intended the pond is. For others it to look into, bad is. Born in the pond, Croakers Jones was. No ordinary frog was he. Saturated by the magic of the pond, ability to see future of his loved ones he was, but not his own. In vain those terrible futures he tried to avert. Cynical and angry did he become. Fled Earth in an Alien From Up Above biscuit ship he hijacked, did he. More magical powers develop he did, until secret of ULTIMATE POWER he discovered. Lonely and bitter, he is. Desiring of companionship, hope to encounter beings capable of impressing him he does. Return periodically to Earth to view how progressing things are, he will. Judge, he then does, the inhabitants, to determine worth of their gaining ULTIMATE POWER. Thus my explanatory speech concludes does”.
Donny had listened attentively, overjoyed at finally have his questions answered. One detail remained, though.
“But what exactly was it he saw in the pond? Master Adoy, I must know. I must consult the pond; you said it’s around here”.
Adoy nodded. “In luck you are. For through this reed bed on the left lies the Lilly-pond of Destiny. With your finger little swirly shapes on the pond’s surface make, and know why so cynical and bitter is Croakers Jones, you shall”.
Donny moved to do so, but then paused. “But didn’t you just say only badgers could look into the pond without courting disaster?”
Adoy bowed his head. “Fortunately, quick cop-out solution there is. An honorary badger, make you I can”.
He pulled out a salt-shaker, and baptized Donny there and then, making him part of the ancient and mystic society of the badgers. Thus equipped, Donny prepared to consult the pond.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Donny” warned Whippy-man, “last time we accepted directions from a mysterious talking animal it turned out to be a trap, costing us valuable time and nearly resulting in grievous injury”
“And we need to focus on our mission” added Tom, “we have to get to the Tower of Babel before the villains, or all is lost!”
Donny had made up his mind, though. “Come on guys. I’m about as impressive as I can get. I don’t think I’ll match up to Teppup. But if I can learn Croakers Jones’ secrets, we might just be able to penetrate his hardened exterior and connect with him personally. I must make little swirly shapes on the surface of the pond with my finger. Learn the truth about the magical amphibian I seek, I shall. Blast it! You’ve got me doing it now, Badger!”
“Contrite I am” said Master Adoy, hanging his head. And so, Donny drew aside the reeds and knelt by the pond. He made the swirly shapes, and a soothing voice was heard.
“Welcome to the Lily-pond of Destiny. To view the wonders of the future, make one ripple. To view the secrets of the past, make two”. Donny did the latter. “I wish to see the history of Croakers Jones” he said.
And the pond revealed it....
Re: My old story has returned, so I'll share it. Warning- really, weir
Chapter 22: Impressive, isn’t it?
It was about to begin. Everything Teppup had worked for, everything he had strived for, soon it would be within his reach. Ever since that fateful day in primary school, when his career alignment tests had singled him out as promising in regards to the Theory and Practice of Evil, he had been waiting for this moment. The Cosy Mobile Home of Evil was currently parked outside of Hell. Live video-links gave the villains inside the Home a view of their comrades, who had now gathered at both Jurassic Park and Hollywood, both just round the corner. The Aliens From Up Above were ready to descend. Final preparations were being made, and the impressive display was almost ready to start. Teppup sighed contentedly. Despite all the setbacks, all the points at which Donny Tulip had foiled his Order’s schemes, they were still in a position to do something very impressive indeed.
“Soon the world shall be mine!” he cried aloud. The Turtle, who was the only villain still in the Cosy Mobile Home of Evil with him, simply watched.
“Yes, well” said Teppup, embarrassed. He composed himself, before addressing his comrades over the video-links. “Lady Darkness, report. Have you successfully seduced Satan into giving you the keys to the Gates of Hell?”
“Yes, boss” said Lady Darkness, “Out-tempting the Prince of Darkness was difficult, but every Prince needs his Lady. I have the keys, and the computer is all linked up. Oh, and by the way, it’s Princess Darkness now”.
“Fine” said Teppup, “just wait for the signal”. For if the plan was to succeed, Teppup had to be able to open the gates of Hell, Hollywood and Jurassic Park at the same time, and this was to be achieved by Your Computer, which would override all the controls once linked up to these places’ own computer systems. Lady Darkness had entered Hell without having to give up her soul by seducing the boatman at the River Styx. Safely on the shores of Hell, she had sought out Satan, who was in his office writing dirty limericks. When she arrived, he had offered her an apple, but her skills of seduction were more advanced than his. She offered him a glass of champagne, truffles, and little tubs of caviar. An apple simply couldn’t compete. Adam and Eve were clearly chavs. With Satan all gooey-eyed, it was no trouble for Lady Darkness to convince him to hand over the keys to the Gates of Hell. She also, of course, connected up Satan’s computer (with which he often amused himself sending God irritating e-mails and trying to hack into Saint Peter’s on-line bank account) to Your Computer, which does even worse. Now, Your Computer could launch a flare from the fiery depths of Hell whenever it wanted. Keys in hand, Lady Darkness then sauntered off to the Gates, preparing to let all Hell loose on Teppup’s signal. The operation had gone smoothly indeed.
“Well done, Lady Darkness” praised Teppup, before moving on. “Magic, Magic E, are you prepared to guide the Aliens From Up Above attack fleet in on your broomstick?”
“I am” said the dark wizard, “for Guid becomes Guide with me”.
“What’s a Guid?”
“Eh, a, eh, well, I’m not quite sure” said Magic, Magic E, embarrassed. He shifted uncomfortably. “I’m ready, though” he said. Having subdued the Neurotic Cleaning Robot by sitting on its head until it calmed down, the Aliens From up Above had made best speed to the co-ordinates above Hell, where they were still awaiting the flare signal. Supreme Evil Galactic Overlord Cuebert had insisted on using the joystick on his chair to pilot his ship in, however; his huge ego demanded it. Therefore, to prevent him crashing or getting caught in a spin, Magic, Magic E had been sent to point him in the right direction. Teppup continued his enquiries.
”Mr. Prettybuttercup, how did things go at Hollywood?” Prettybuttercup and his group had recently arrived from the Penguin Mob Speakeasy. Teppup had been surprised to hear that Prettybuttercup had convinced Achy Breaky Heart and his gang to join the Order in its scheme, as working for rival companies wasn’t usually the villainous way. On the other hand, the more practitioners of evil they had, the better they’d be. In fact, it was Achy Breaky Heart who had thought of the plan to get into Hollywood. It involved convincing people that Captain Unpleasant was a film star, to be precise Buff-beard the Pirate, star of such action movies as “Yarrh, Be It Bloody Violence Ye Be After?” and “Yo Ho Hoe; The Pirate’s Girlfriend”. The Snitch, putting his talents to good use for once, “accidently” made a public announcement in which he let slip that famed celebrity actor Buff-beard the Pirate was making a secret visit to Hollywood to discuss his next movie appearance. Upon hearing this, thousands of locals and passers-by flocked into Hollywood, ecstatic at the opportunity to see the star of “Pirates of the Lake District” and its sequels, among other well-known films. The Non-Beautiful-but-Necessary people, who were tolerated because they kept Hollywood running despite having neither stunning good looks nor riches, were incapable of dealing with the excited mobs that suddenly descended on them.
“We’re filled to capacity!” cried one administrator, as the crowd rushed towards Captain Unpleasant.
“Yaaarh, speak to my f*****g agent!” cried Captain Unpleasant, fending off the desperate fans with his hands. Mr. Prettybuttercup, official bouncer to the false film-star, suggested that Buff-beard’s party should retreat to the film studio. The overwhelmed Non-Beautiful-but-Necessary people readily agreed. Captain Unpleasant, Prettybuttercup and ???, acting as a stagehand, therefore gained access to the building containing Hollywood’s computers. Once they were inside, Achy Breaky Heart created another disturbance outside. He announced that he was making a movie of his own, and began filming Cowpoke Pete riding up and down firing his pistols. Aghast at seeing such obvious competition to their new Western blockbuster, the administrators and film-makers rushed to put a stop to it, leaving the villains alone. Quickly, they linked up the computer to Your Computer, and the mission was complete.
“Excellent” said Teppup, before checking on the next group of villains; General Purple, Baron von Wonky-Bonky and Richard Nixon at Jurassic Park. Here too, success was reported. General Purple had created a scene by attempting to fashion a stylish helmet out of a Triceratops skull, and while park officials chased him around trying to pry it off, Baron von Wonky-Bonky had crept into the control room from which the electric fences were monitored. Next, Richard Nixon arrived, pretending to be the former president he most definitely wasn’t. He demanded to search the park for Weapons of Mass Destruction, stating that he believed Jurassic Park a threat to the free world. Classifying the Tyrannosaurus as a WMD, he demanded, on the authority of the U.S Government, that it be prepared for transport back to the Pentagon. Fearful lest the Americans discontinue their funding of the park, the park officials rushed to surrender the deadly dinosaur. As soon as they turned off the electricity to the Tyrannosaurus cage in order to enter it, Baron von Wonky-Bonky, inside the control room, recorded their command code and sent it to all enclosures in the park. All the dinosaurs soon burst out of their cages, free at last. Now, it would simply be a matter of opening the main gates and letting them loose outside the park. The park computer was, of course, connected up to Your Computer.
Finally, Teppup was convinced all was ready. Sane Professor Mad, inputing instructions to Your Computer, asked it to launch a flare from all three attractions simultaneously. The three flares fired magnificently into the air, just as planned. Sane Professor Mad nodded tightly to himself in satisfaction, and did not throw back his head and cackle manically, lest he miss any vital development in the process of the plan.
As the flares launched, the villains implemented the next stage, opening the gates of Hell, Hollywood and Jurassic Park at the same instant. The film-stars, dinosaurs and demons were all unleashed. The Aliens From Up Above also responded to the flares as ordered, swooping low over the scene and making impressive manoeuvres.
“It’s working!” cried Teppup, knowing that Croakers Jones, by now atop the Tower of Babel, would be watching this great display.
Suddenly, however, there flew, from out of no-where, a small but fast space probe. “What the?!” cried Sane Professor Mad. It was the Probe to Pluto. Abandoned and forgotten following the scrapping of its mission, the probe was finally launched with a vengeance. It slammed into one of the Aliens From Up Above viscount biscuit ships, knocking it from the sky. The spaceship spiralled dramatically to earth, crashing into Hell, where it landed on top of Satan.
“Noooooo!” screamed Teppup, as he watched his impressive demonstration fall to pieces.
“The Prince of Darkness has been crushed by a falling spaceship!” cried a demon in alarm, and he and his abominable brethren ran back into Hell, hoping to lift the fallen craft off of their master. The celebrity film stars, horrified at the accident, demanded a break in which they could return to their trailers and renegotiate their contracts.
“It’s all falling apart!” wailed Teppup, as the film-stars began marching back into Hollywood. Finally, the dinosaurs, confused and frightened by the chaos, ran back to their enclosures. Well, most of them did. The Velociraptors, who were of course smarter than the other dinosaurs, quickly took the opportunity to grab some unlucky stage-hands and steal their uniforms. Suitably disguised, they joined the queue for re-entry to Hollywood, hoping to steal advance copies of the latest movies to fund their goal of buying entry to the Vatican. Then, a Velociraptor would become Pope, and the Jesus-was-a-Dinosaur heresy would be heresy no longer. Anyway, that was their plan. Teppup’s plan, to get back to the point, had of course failed. I’ll let Captain Unpleasant convey the villain’s sense of disappointment. “Ah, f**k” he said.
...........................
Teppup had his head in his hands. He could see his dream turning to ashes around him. How could he be judged worthy of ULTIMATE POWER now? All the other villains looked very nervous, save the Turtle, which simply watched. Soon, Sane Professor Mad brought news of where the Probe to Pluto had came from. “Dr Under Minestein has betrayed us!” he cried, waving a video tape he had found in the laboratory, addressed to him. The villains played it gloomily.
“This is Under Minestein” said the scientist who appeared on screen. “I have been forced to work for your evil order against my will for many weeks. But, as the plan entered its final stages, I made my move. In the confusion, as all the villains raced around hectically attempting to make the impressive display work, I stole back Mr. Beany, who is now safe with me. Tell them, Mr. Beany”.
“Yes, that’s right, Dr. Minestein” said Minestein in a squeaky voice, shaking the beanbag from side to side. He then continued in his normal voice.
“The government has been rearranged in your absence. Taking advantage of your road trip, the few remaining good ministers have overthrown the corrupt ones (HOORAY!), and sent word to the Infighting Nations. Jerry the Hun and Spazputin of Russia have put aside their differences in order to send an angry entourage to intercept you. Soon, your evil activities shall be at an end! The International Courts will try you on charges of plotting to take over the world, conspiring to attain ULTIMATE POWER, consorting with aliens and dark magicians, speeding, and depriving the world of ice-cream from Pluto. And in case you’re wondering why I now seem such a confident character in opposition to my manner previously, it’s because Mr. Beany is the source of all my strength. Goodbye!”
The tape came to an end. Teppup felt himself filling up with rage. Croakers Jones was watching from the top of the Tower of Babel, and instead of being impressive Teppup had been made to look like a fool. The other villains backed away nervously. The Turtle, however, simply watched, and Teppup noticed. “Yes, of course! There is still hope! There is still hope! If we can just reach Croakers Jones in time, tell him that the display he witnessed was intended as a debacle, as, eh, as a comedy scene for his benefit, eh, yes, ULTIMATE POWER can still be ours! We must hurry!”
With that, the villains all beamed up to Supreme Evil Galactic Overlord Cuebert’s orange/mint combo cruiser, ready to fly to the Tower of Babel. The Villainous Order of 13 would not give up this easily.....and now they had nothing left to lose, they were more dangerous than ever!
Chapter 22: Impressive, isn’t it?
It was about to begin. Everything Teppup had worked for, everything he had strived for, soon it would be within his reach. Ever since that fateful day in primary school, when his career alignment tests had singled him out as promising in regards to the Theory and Practice of Evil, he had been waiting for this moment. The Cosy Mobile Home of Evil was currently parked outside of Hell. Live video-links gave the villains inside the Home a view of their comrades, who had now gathered at both Jurassic Park and Hollywood, both just round the corner. The Aliens From Up Above were ready to descend. Final preparations were being made, and the impressive display was almost ready to start. Teppup sighed contentedly. Despite all the setbacks, all the points at which Donny Tulip had foiled his Order’s schemes, they were still in a position to do something very impressive indeed.
“Soon the world shall be mine!” he cried aloud. The Turtle, who was the only villain still in the Cosy Mobile Home of Evil with him, simply watched.
“Yes, well” said Teppup, embarrassed. He composed himself, before addressing his comrades over the video-links. “Lady Darkness, report. Have you successfully seduced Satan into giving you the keys to the Gates of Hell?”
“Yes, boss” said Lady Darkness, “Out-tempting the Prince of Darkness was difficult, but every Prince needs his Lady. I have the keys, and the computer is all linked up. Oh, and by the way, it’s Princess Darkness now”.
“Fine” said Teppup, “just wait for the signal”. For if the plan was to succeed, Teppup had to be able to open the gates of Hell, Hollywood and Jurassic Park at the same time, and this was to be achieved by Your Computer, which would override all the controls once linked up to these places’ own computer systems. Lady Darkness had entered Hell without having to give up her soul by seducing the boatman at the River Styx. Safely on the shores of Hell, she had sought out Satan, who was in his office writing dirty limericks. When she arrived, he had offered her an apple, but her skills of seduction were more advanced than his. She offered him a glass of champagne, truffles, and little tubs of caviar. An apple simply couldn’t compete. Adam and Eve were clearly chavs. With Satan all gooey-eyed, it was no trouble for Lady Darkness to convince him to hand over the keys to the Gates of Hell. She also, of course, connected up Satan’s computer (with which he often amused himself sending God irritating e-mails and trying to hack into Saint Peter’s on-line bank account) to Your Computer, which does even worse. Now, Your Computer could launch a flare from the fiery depths of Hell whenever it wanted. Keys in hand, Lady Darkness then sauntered off to the Gates, preparing to let all Hell loose on Teppup’s signal. The operation had gone smoothly indeed.
“Well done, Lady Darkness” praised Teppup, before moving on. “Magic, Magic E, are you prepared to guide the Aliens From Up Above attack fleet in on your broomstick?”
“I am” said the dark wizard, “for Guid becomes Guide with me”.
“What’s a Guid?”
“Eh, a, eh, well, I’m not quite sure” said Magic, Magic E, embarrassed. He shifted uncomfortably. “I’m ready, though” he said. Having subdued the Neurotic Cleaning Robot by sitting on its head until it calmed down, the Aliens From up Above had made best speed to the co-ordinates above Hell, where they were still awaiting the flare signal. Supreme Evil Galactic Overlord Cuebert had insisted on using the joystick on his chair to pilot his ship in, however; his huge ego demanded it. Therefore, to prevent him crashing or getting caught in a spin, Magic, Magic E had been sent to point him in the right direction. Teppup continued his enquiries.
”Mr. Prettybuttercup, how did things go at Hollywood?” Prettybuttercup and his group had recently arrived from the Penguin Mob Speakeasy. Teppup had been surprised to hear that Prettybuttercup had convinced Achy Breaky Heart and his gang to join the Order in its scheme, as working for rival companies wasn’t usually the villainous way. On the other hand, the more practitioners of evil they had, the better they’d be. In fact, it was Achy Breaky Heart who had thought of the plan to get into Hollywood. It involved convincing people that Captain Unpleasant was a film star, to be precise Buff-beard the Pirate, star of such action movies as “Yarrh, Be It Bloody Violence Ye Be After?” and “Yo Ho Hoe; The Pirate’s Girlfriend”. The Snitch, putting his talents to good use for once, “accidently” made a public announcement in which he let slip that famed celebrity actor Buff-beard the Pirate was making a secret visit to Hollywood to discuss his next movie appearance. Upon hearing this, thousands of locals and passers-by flocked into Hollywood, ecstatic at the opportunity to see the star of “Pirates of the Lake District” and its sequels, among other well-known films. The Non-Beautiful-but-Necessary people, who were tolerated because they kept Hollywood running despite having neither stunning good looks nor riches, were incapable of dealing with the excited mobs that suddenly descended on them.
“We’re filled to capacity!” cried one administrator, as the crowd rushed towards Captain Unpleasant.
“Yaaarh, speak to my f*****g agent!” cried Captain Unpleasant, fending off the desperate fans with his hands. Mr. Prettybuttercup, official bouncer to the false film-star, suggested that Buff-beard’s party should retreat to the film studio. The overwhelmed Non-Beautiful-but-Necessary people readily agreed. Captain Unpleasant, Prettybuttercup and ???, acting as a stagehand, therefore gained access to the building containing Hollywood’s computers. Once they were inside, Achy Breaky Heart created another disturbance outside. He announced that he was making a movie of his own, and began filming Cowpoke Pete riding up and down firing his pistols. Aghast at seeing such obvious competition to their new Western blockbuster, the administrators and film-makers rushed to put a stop to it, leaving the villains alone. Quickly, they linked up the computer to Your Computer, and the mission was complete.
“Excellent” said Teppup, before checking on the next group of villains; General Purple, Baron von Wonky-Bonky and Richard Nixon at Jurassic Park. Here too, success was reported. General Purple had created a scene by attempting to fashion a stylish helmet out of a Triceratops skull, and while park officials chased him around trying to pry it off, Baron von Wonky-Bonky had crept into the control room from which the electric fences were monitored. Next, Richard Nixon arrived, pretending to be the former president he most definitely wasn’t. He demanded to search the park for Weapons of Mass Destruction, stating that he believed Jurassic Park a threat to the free world. Classifying the Tyrannosaurus as a WMD, he demanded, on the authority of the U.S Government, that it be prepared for transport back to the Pentagon. Fearful lest the Americans discontinue their funding of the park, the park officials rushed to surrender the deadly dinosaur. As soon as they turned off the electricity to the Tyrannosaurus cage in order to enter it, Baron von Wonky-Bonky, inside the control room, recorded their command code and sent it to all enclosures in the park. All the dinosaurs soon burst out of their cages, free at last. Now, it would simply be a matter of opening the main gates and letting them loose outside the park. The park computer was, of course, connected up to Your Computer.
Finally, Teppup was convinced all was ready. Sane Professor Mad, inputing instructions to Your Computer, asked it to launch a flare from all three attractions simultaneously. The three flares fired magnificently into the air, just as planned. Sane Professor Mad nodded tightly to himself in satisfaction, and did not throw back his head and cackle manically, lest he miss any vital development in the process of the plan.
As the flares launched, the villains implemented the next stage, opening the gates of Hell, Hollywood and Jurassic Park at the same instant. The film-stars, dinosaurs and demons were all unleashed. The Aliens From Up Above also responded to the flares as ordered, swooping low over the scene and making impressive manoeuvres.
“It’s working!” cried Teppup, knowing that Croakers Jones, by now atop the Tower of Babel, would be watching this great display.
Suddenly, however, there flew, from out of no-where, a small but fast space probe. “What the?!” cried Sane Professor Mad. It was the Probe to Pluto. Abandoned and forgotten following the scrapping of its mission, the probe was finally launched with a vengeance. It slammed into one of the Aliens From Up Above viscount biscuit ships, knocking it from the sky. The spaceship spiralled dramatically to earth, crashing into Hell, where it landed on top of Satan.
“Noooooo!” screamed Teppup, as he watched his impressive demonstration fall to pieces.
“The Prince of Darkness has been crushed by a falling spaceship!” cried a demon in alarm, and he and his abominable brethren ran back into Hell, hoping to lift the fallen craft off of their master. The celebrity film stars, horrified at the accident, demanded a break in which they could return to their trailers and renegotiate their contracts.
“It’s all falling apart!” wailed Teppup, as the film-stars began marching back into Hollywood. Finally, the dinosaurs, confused and frightened by the chaos, ran back to their enclosures. Well, most of them did. The Velociraptors, who were of course smarter than the other dinosaurs, quickly took the opportunity to grab some unlucky stage-hands and steal their uniforms. Suitably disguised, they joined the queue for re-entry to Hollywood, hoping to steal advance copies of the latest movies to fund their goal of buying entry to the Vatican. Then, a Velociraptor would become Pope, and the Jesus-was-a-Dinosaur heresy would be heresy no longer. Anyway, that was their plan. Teppup’s plan, to get back to the point, had of course failed. I’ll let Captain Unpleasant convey the villain’s sense of disappointment. “Ah, f**k” he said.
...........................
Teppup had his head in his hands. He could see his dream turning to ashes around him. How could he be judged worthy of ULTIMATE POWER now? All the other villains looked very nervous, save the Turtle, which simply watched. Soon, Sane Professor Mad brought news of where the Probe to Pluto had came from. “Dr Under Minestein has betrayed us!” he cried, waving a video tape he had found in the laboratory, addressed to him. The villains played it gloomily.
“This is Under Minestein” said the scientist who appeared on screen. “I have been forced to work for your evil order against my will for many weeks. But, as the plan entered its final stages, I made my move. In the confusion, as all the villains raced around hectically attempting to make the impressive display work, I stole back Mr. Beany, who is now safe with me. Tell them, Mr. Beany”.
“Yes, that’s right, Dr. Minestein” said Minestein in a squeaky voice, shaking the beanbag from side to side. He then continued in his normal voice.
“The government has been rearranged in your absence. Taking advantage of your road trip, the few remaining good ministers have overthrown the corrupt ones (HOORAY!), and sent word to the Infighting Nations. Jerry the Hun and Spazputin of Russia have put aside their differences in order to send an angry entourage to intercept you. Soon, your evil activities shall be at an end! The International Courts will try you on charges of plotting to take over the world, conspiring to attain ULTIMATE POWER, consorting with aliens and dark magicians, speeding, and depriving the world of ice-cream from Pluto. And in case you’re wondering why I now seem such a confident character in opposition to my manner previously, it’s because Mr. Beany is the source of all my strength. Goodbye!”
The tape came to an end. Teppup felt himself filling up with rage. Croakers Jones was watching from the top of the Tower of Babel, and instead of being impressive Teppup had been made to look like a fool. The other villains backed away nervously. The Turtle, however, simply watched, and Teppup noticed. “Yes, of course! There is still hope! There is still hope! If we can just reach Croakers Jones in time, tell him that the display he witnessed was intended as a debacle, as, eh, as a comedy scene for his benefit, eh, yes, ULTIMATE POWER can still be ours! We must hurry!”
With that, the villains all beamed up to Supreme Evil Galactic Overlord Cuebert’s orange/mint combo cruiser, ready to fly to the Tower of Babel. The Villainous Order of 13 would not give up this easily.....and now they had nothing left to lose, they were more dangerous than ever!
Re: My old story has returned, so I'll share it. Warning- really, weir
What's the word count? You may have a novel here.
What's the word count? You may have a novel here.
Re: My old story has returned, so I'll share it. Warning- really, weir
I think it may actually be just under the usually accepted minimum for a novel.
(PS: Sorry to clog up the BBS with this! Nearly done posting it up...)
What's the word count? You may have a novel here.
I think it may actually be just under the usually accepted minimum for a novel. (PS: Sorry to clog up the BBS with this! Nearly done posting it up...
)
Re: My old story has returned, so I'll share it. Warning- really, weir
You actually read it! I salute your patience, my friend! 
You may have the CMHoE, so long as you sign this contract in the blood of an orphaned child (no need to read it first).
You actually read it!
I salute your patience, my friend! You may have the CMHoE, so long as you sign this contract in the blood of an orphaned child (no need to read it first).
