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Solomon Birch
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 Posted: Sat Mar 11, 2006 8:41 am Post subject: |
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ROFL!  Superbly funny chapter; The 'Lady' being a dominatrix!? Didn't see that coming! 
Now, I think that the Mausoleum sounds like the most promising route; there's no guarantee that the Mad Scientist even exists (as The Lady says) and, as for Arrggghhhs, you never know if whats in the manual is in stock, and he can't waste time waiting for an order to come in. So I think that following the rumours he should cross the charnal-bone yards.
Also, the Lady mentioned that she wouldn't mind if she could watch the Blind-Date re-runs, so she may know Larry Cludge. If so, I think that Lenny should pick up on this and attempt to either get away with Alia without even finding the remote (though I doubt that would be the easiest chapter to make funny and interesting) or try and get some extra help or information because of his famous father. Just a thought, but I reckoned it might be interesting to include.
Looking forward to the next chapter! Keep the good stuff coming Shady! :biggrin:
*holds breath*  ©
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Thesopholis - A Noir Sci-Fi Story - Chapter 8 is up! Read it here
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The Quest for the Legendary Rubber-Duckie! - Chapter 3
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Green Eyes - Chapter 5
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Smee
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| Posted: Sat Mar 11, 2006 8:56 am Post subject: |
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Excellent Chapter stoat - so many funny parts and a chance to go to Argos
I'm thinking the second option is best. Hedgehogs, mad scientist - sounds crazy, but not as dangerous as the others. I'm with MG - there must be something wrong with option 3.
Happy Writing 
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LordoftheNight
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| Posted: Sat Mar 11, 2006 12:04 pm Post subject: |
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Yeah, I'd definatly say to mention his dad, find out if he's famous or popular here too, and then he might as well take a trip down to Arrrghhos or whatnot. It does sound the easist, even if it's almost too good to be true.
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ethereal_fauna
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| Posted: Mon Mar 13, 2006 5:56 am Post subject: |
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Just smile and pick one...then go off and find an internet cafe (surely must be one somewhere) and order a universal remote off Smeebay... pay for extra rush on the shipping 
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DukeReg
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| Posted: Mon Mar 13, 2006 2:04 pm Post subject: |
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I'm torn...
As a reader I just MUST have a mad scientist! They are at least equal in coolness to pirates, ninjas, and certain models of futuristic robots..
From Lenny's perspective though, the shop is the way to go. The path to it will be slightly to moderately deadly, and it will be full of assorted freaks of all kinds no doubt, but it is probably no worse than getting to the Tea-Shoppe was...
I'll decide at poll time I think.
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Chinaren
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Sat Mar 18, 2006 6:43 am Post subject: |
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| Poll's up, lovely people!
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ethereal_fauna
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| Posted: Sat Mar 18, 2006 6:59 am Post subject: |
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I still say Smeebay...she can wait for overnight delivery.
Voted for the shops, but really think you should hunt up an internet cafe.
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Mother Goose
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| Posted: Sat Mar 18, 2006 12:08 pm Post subject: |
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| Yes, let's go shopping! The shops are probably no worse than anything else.
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dragon_fire372
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| Posted: Sat Mar 18, 2006 9:00 pm Post subject: |
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Heh, I went for the mausoleum just cuz it sounds so fun. Don't think I'll win though. <shrug>
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Solomon Birch
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| Posted: Sun Mar 19, 2006 5:17 am Post subject: |
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Voted, but it appears it was a paltry gesture...
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Thesopholis - A Noir Sci-Fi Story - Chapter 8 is up! Read it here
The End of the Voyage - Chapter 9
Shady the Furry Goblin! [Demon's, Satan and Slobadan Milosevic!] - Chapter 3
The Quest for the Legendary Rubber-Duckie! - Chapter 3
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Green Eyes - Chapter 5
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Ingrothechundyer
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| Posted: Sun Mar 19, 2006 6:53 am Post subject: |
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| The perils of voting in a popular storygame
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Thu Mar 23, 2006 8:28 am Post subject: |
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CHAPTER TWENTY: Something for Nothing…
Lenny stared. The Lady stared back, giving the impression that she could hold his gaze for days, if that was what it took.
“Err…” he said, at last. “Is this a trick question?”
She merely continued to stare.
“I’ll… uhh… go down to the shops for you?” he ventured, wondering where the catch was. One thing was for sure – there was no point in traversing the Plains of the Blasted Hedgehog, or the Charnel Bone-Yards, or any of those unnervingly-named places unless he absolutely had to.
Would Arrggghhhs be any better though? Could he really trust a place that sounded like someone with a hippopotamus on their foot? Did he really, cosmically speaking, have any choice in the matter?
At least this way, he wouldn’t have to face the task alone. He looked relieved as the lady opened a door on the opposite side of her boudoir and Alia came into sight.
The good news was that she didn’t appear to have been harmed at all. The rather more bizarre news was that she seemed to be sorting through the Lady’s walk-in closet – and giving every appearance of enjoying it!
Without turning, she picked up a jade corset and held it up to the light.
“You should really get these dry-cleaned, you know,” she called back, still apparently oblivious to Lenny’s presence. “Look – this one’s got some sort of stain, sunk right into the silk. You’ll have an awful job getting that out now, unless you…”
She finally turned, looked momentarily startled, then gave Lenny one of her rare smiles.
“Oh. Hi. You found me, then?” she asked. Then she turned back to the Lady. “Altrainian vinegar. That should sort silk stains out – but no more than a two hour soak. Maximum. You don’t want the lace to start discolouring.”
As Lenny gaped, her Ladyship nodded courteously to the girl. “My dear – where do you pick up your cleaning tips?”
She gave Lenny a none-too-subtle wink. “Hold on to this one, boy. In time, beauty might fade – but you’ll have clean shirts forever.”
Before he could explore the full horror of having his choice of date approved by a reject from the Rocky Horror Show, she had fixed her attention on Alia again.
“I’m afraid we’ll have to part company for a while, dear. Your young man has agreed to go on a little errand for me, and I think he’d appreciate your companionship while he goes. After all, it is meant to be your special day together.”
Again, she swirled the glass of bubbling mix in her hand. Lenny squirmed as he thought of the cocktail with the drop of his own blood in it. What would happen if he broke his promise, he wondered? Even worse, what if there was no second remote and he couldn’t complete the avowed task? Or if the Blind Date crew came to pick him up before he could retrieve it for the Lady?
Time could be getting short. With an effort, he wrenched his thoughts back to the task at hand.
“How do we get to Arrggghhhs?” he demanded.
The Lady gestured. “Out of the door, along the corridor, third door on the right, down the staircase and out of the door at the bottom. That should take you to the White Sands. It’s just a short journey from there to the river and Charon can take you from there into town. You can’t miss Arrggghhhs – it’s one of the biggest shops on the High Street. Just pop in, get the remote control and come back here. I’m sure a brave, strong lad like you can manage it?”
Lenny was sure of only one thing. He wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible. He couldn’t begin to guess what the Blind Date viewing audience was making of their dating show being turned into Challenge TV. He could only hope that they weren’t enamoured enough of the concept to make a mini-series out of it. What would be next? ‘Lenny’s adventures in Blunderland?’ ‘Clash of the Cludges?’ ‘LotR (Len of the Remote)?’
It didn’t bear thinking about. So he didn’t. Instead, he grabbed Alia by the hand and headed for the door.
“We’ll be back,” he promised to the still-smiling Lady. She waved her long, painted nails at them as they shut the door behind them. A dark man with eyes of brilliant green stepped out from the shadows in the corner of the room, where previously there hadn’t even been shadows to step out from. He brushed one of the Lady’s oiled slaves out of the way and sat down with lithe grace on her satiny bed.
“Interesting,” was all he said.
“Indeed.” She sat down beside him. “How long have you been lurking, Elias?”
“Long enough,” he answered in a voice as rich and dark as bitter chocolate. “The blood was a nice touch.”
“I thought so.” She stirred the muddy cocktail with a fingertip. “A little dramatic, perhaps… but I always like a drop of blood in my pink djinn-juice.”
She took a sip and licked her ruby-painted lips. Shortly afterwards, the slaves were dismissed…
-----------
Against all probability, it had been easy enough to get out of the house. Lenny had rushed Alia out into the corridor, through the door, down a cobwebby staircase and out through the stout arched door at the bottom.
“Where are we going?” asked Alia as the pale sunlight broke over them.
Lenny thought about it for a moment. “I’d like to say ‘as far from this place as possible’,” he admitted, “but I guess we’re going to a place called Arrggghhhs to buy a second remote control for the Lady.”
“She’s sweet,” Alia responded.
They had been traversing down some extremely crazy crazy-paving, towards the iron-wrought boundaries at the edge of the house. Lenny stopped, wondering if he had heard right.
“She’s… sweet?” he echoed, slowly. “She’s a bloke!”
Alia considered this.
“Yes,” she conceded, after an appropriate pause for thought. “But she’s sweet.”
Lenny paused, flustered. “And she kidnapped you!”
“Well… yes,” admitted Alia. “But she didn’t mean any harm by it – and she did offer me a complementary pass to the Gifte-Shoppe, to make up for it. Apparently, I can have a free gift at the end of the day. Maybe we’ll get some souvenir pictures?”
“If we survive,” muttered Lenny. He started walking again, wishing he could watch his footing. The constant up-to-the-knees mist made that impossible though. What was it with spooky houses and mist? Did the undead pick their locations with meticulous care – or did they just hire full-time manservants to keep their fog-machines in fully working order? It was a mystery, no doubt about it!
They reached the gates and pulled with all their might. There was the hellish noise of rusty creaking (oh, the clichés were really piling up here!) and finally, there was enough space for them to squeeze out into the sands beyond.
Lenny looked around cautiously. These must be the… what had the Lady called them again…? The White Sands, that was it. Strange name for them, considering that they were, in fact, a dull mustard colour. No doubt the argument would go that it had been white once, but it was so hard to keep the keep the colouring; or they’d put it through the wash and now they couldn’t do a thing with it!
A short trip across this to the river, the Lady had said. He wondered what her Ladyship defined as ‘a short trip’. Knowing his luck, it may very well be miles – with vampires and werewolves and steel mantraps to navigate on the way, no doubt.
All the more reason to get moving then. He sighed and stepped out onto the sands.
They were pleasantly warm underfoot, despite the coldness of the sun. He felt more nervous than ever as he peered through the fog, looking for a river.
“Shill would have liked it here,” murmured Alia, and sighed.
Lenny’s spirits immediately plummeted. Fortunately, they had already fallen so far that it was a short enough drop to where they lay, beating their fists against the ground and whimpering.
He’d risked life, limb and… the Lady, to rescue her – and she was still thinking about that blasted snowman. If he couldn’t even beat a deceased Frosty in the love stakes, then things were looking very poor for him indeed!
Well, he would just have to concentrate on getting the second remote control and getting the hell off this planet. If Alia was intent on saving her passion for a puddle of water, there was nothing he could do about it, other than survive this experience and hope that the Producer wouldn’t get any funny ideas in their next meeting!
His thoughts were interrupted by a welcome sight. The mists finally parted enough for Lenny to see the sparkle of a blue-black river ahead.
“The river,” said Alia, squeezing his hand.
Foolishly, he felt the gloom lift for a moment, and he cautioned himself. ‘Remember Shill,’ he thought, grimly.
“Let’s go find the ferryman,” he said, aloud.
Alia looked perplexed. “The ferryman?”
“Oh. I just assumed…” Lenny trailed off. “On my world, we have legends about the Ferryman of the Underworld.”
“The Underworld?”
He found himself going red. Apart from a few heavy metal tracks, he knew very little of the mythos himself. Something about some river of death, or sleep, and that you shouldn’t ever pay the ferryman. It all sounded a bit ridiculous, when you came to think about it, really.
“Oh, doesn’t matter,” he mumbled. “Let’s go.”
Together they made their way over the hard sand that sloped down towards the river. Although it was possible to catch the occasional glance of rippling water, the menservants on the fog-machines were obviously being paid overtime in this area. It rose sluggishly, like a hung-over worker on a Monday morning, and it was every bit as thick and impenetrable, too.
It was only when they were mere feet away from the river that they finally got a clear view.
It looked unpleasant. There were no two ways about it. The river oozed and rolled, with the consistency of warm tar. It gave off the scent of battery acid, making their eyes water and their throats catch. There was a signpost, stuck into the sandy bank, which they drew closer to read.
Ferry Stop. Next shuttle – 10 minutes
No Payment Required
No Swimming – Except on Public Holidays
As they watched, the 10 clicked to a 9.
“I guess we wait,” said Lenny, simply.
“Unless you fancy a swim?” replied Alia.
Lenny glanced sharply at her, before seeing the ironic look on her face. He found himself grinning.
“Ladies first,” he offered.
Her lips quirked. “Black may be my colour, but ooze isn’t my style.”
Incredibly, although the situation wasn’t remotely funny, Lenny began to laugh. Even more incredibly, Alia giggled too. The laughter was infectious and, as the minutes ticked down, they both leant against the signpost and howled with mirth. Every time one of them was in danger of calming down, they would catch sight of the ‘no swimming’ notice… or point at the oozing river… and start up again.
The laughter abruptly stopped though, when the minute counter ticked to zero. At that very second, the pale, high prow of a boat began to creep out of the mist.
It crept through the sludge with a sullen inevitability. What they had first mistaken for a prow slowly solidified into the shape of a swan’s neck in pure white. A shadowy-thin form stood at the back of the boat, wreathed in mist. Bit by bit, the long swan-wings came into view, white despite the black waters that squelched against them. There was an air of ethereal purity about the sleek boat, diminished only by the fact that it looked a bit like someone had robbed a carnival to obtain it.
At last the fog billowed aside to let the visage of the ferryman through. It wasn’t at all what Lenny had expected. For one thing, it wasn’t a ferryman at all. It was a ferrywoman!
For another thing, she was dressed in a white mini-skirt and a fairly insubstantial crop-top, with white heels and handbag as accessories. Her hair was blonde (with darker blonde streaks) and immaculately permed and she looked as if she had stepped straight off some seedy nightclub dance-floor.
Instead of holding a pole, as Lenny had half-expected, she was standing daintily at the swan’s tail, manipulating a rudder as the engine churned almost silently through the river.
Seeing them, she immediately turned for the shore.
“Heading into taahn, you two?” she said, in a high, grating voice – the nails on the chalkboard of linguistics.
Lenny tried hard to keep the wince off his face. “Ahh… yes,” he said. “We’re heading into Arrggghhs, actually.”
“Hop in then,” squeaked the girl. “’Haah’s it going? I’m Sharon, and I’ll be your guide for the journey. Anything you need, just aahsk”
She flicked out a mini hand-mirror and checked her make-up while Lenny and Alia stepped tentatively into the boat. They sat down, looking uncertainly at each other. This was what was going to get them into town? An airhead with a voice that could advertise migraine-pills?
Well, it was no crazier than anything else they had seen so far. So why not?
They sat back in the boat and listened to the screechy voice drone on.
“Not be long naah, we’ve just got to make a couple of stops on the way. More passengers to pick up. It’s a busy route at this time of year and – oaaawww! Will you look at that?”
With a pout more suited to a six year old, she held out a blotchy hand with blue-painted fingernails. One of them had a chip in it.
“My nail! That cruddy boat has made me crack a nail again – and I just had a manicure yesterday, cost me a fortune it did and I only get three days off every week, I won’t be able to get that fixed in an hurry, I can tell you, rotten employers, if you’re ever thinking of working here, just don’t! That’s all I can tell you. Won’t even let me take tips from the people that I have to ferry every day! Would fifteen percent be too much to aahsk, I said to them, but no – they wouldn’t listen, and shoes are so expensive these days and the heels break so easily. What’s a girl to do? Oh, next stop.”
Lenny jolted out of his glaze-eyed trance at this point and took at look at what stood on the next bank along.
To his relief, there was just a single passenger, waiting to be picked up. To his consternation, it appeared to be a rather elderly man-wolf. It didn’t look dangerous – at least not in the classic werewolf sense – but as it clambered into the boat and sat between the two of them, there was a definite aroma of old dog in the air. Then, when it turned to say hello, Lenny got treated to a lungful of wolf-breath that almost seared his trachea shut. He took shallow breaths and tried to wipe his eyes surreptitiously when the wolf-thing turned and greeted Alia.
At that point, the boat motored off again and they were treated to another of Sharon’s mindless monologues. She steered the boat and prattled about how nobody understood her and how her bosses were emotionless robots; dictators, who, should she arrive at work only three hours late, would give her written warnings and dock her pay accordingly. And after a hard night’s partying, it sometimes just wasn’t possible to get up on time and have a decent shower and fix her hair and her make-up and find a fully matching wardrobe, complete with accessories, and do her fake tan (“I mean, this world don’t even get proper sunlight, what’s a girl to do?”) and get to work on time. It was only reasonable for her to be a little bit late, in circumstances like that. But would they listen?
Whether or not it was the old werewolf’s stop, he seemed in a hurry to get out the next time that Sharon stopped the boat. Lenny couldn’t honestly blame it. Walking – perhaps even swimming – seemed a preferable alternative at this point!
Three fairly normal people got into the boat in his place. It was an improvement, albeit a cramped one. The boat sank further into the water and rocked alarmingly as it took off from the stop again.
There followed ten minutes of hearing all about the really cute guy that Sharon had picked up in one of the nightspots last night. How her friend, Tiffany, had spied him out first, but how he’d never been interested in Tiff at all and had only had eyes for Sharon. How the two girls had fought about it in the powder-rooms and now Tiff wasn’t speaking to Sharon any more and she’d borrowed that slug-pink lipstick and there was no chance of getting it back now, and she’d be saying things behind her back and poisoning all her friends against her and…
Long after Lenny and Alia had stopped trying to work out which preposition belonged to whom – and long after they had ceased to care – the boat finally drew to the opposite shore.
“There ya go,” said Sharon in her squeaky foghorn voice. “Everybody out for taahn.”
The five passengers tumbled over each other, speeding onto the sands as fast as they could. Hell’s ferrywoman indeed!
As they crested the rise, the shops were clearly visible and the mist was gone. There was a wide, sandy street with what looked like normal buildings. They even had signs swinging outside them, although they were too far away to see from here.
Lenny smiled and took Alia’s hand. It was after lunchtime now. A fair portion of the day was already gone, but the remote control was probably only a couple of street lengths away from his grasp now.
They started walking, being quickly outpaced by the three who had escaped Sharon with them. The sand was dry and powdery here. It was easy to slip. They trod warily down the slope.
“I wonder which one is Arrggghhhs,” Lenny asked, rhetorically. He fixed his eyes on the ever-nearing signs, squinting to see if he could pick up any clues.
“Err… Lenny?”
“It’ll probably be quite big,” he said, approaching the first building. “Although I don’t know what the sign will have painted on it.”
“Lenny?”
“Probably the picture of some screaming victim with a name like ‘Arrggghhhs’,” he joked. Then, as Alia’s hand wrenched itself away from his, and he saw her flying ahead of him down the street, he ventured a look around.
From the sand behind him, and to his right and left, there were forms rising. Bodies, covered with sand, maybe even made from sand, rising up from their dusty lairs and lurching towards him in that distinctive way that said ‘excuse me, sir, but I think I’d like the taste of your brain.’
There was a moment of paralysis as he watched more than a dozen sand-zombies crawl and stumble closer. Then he was off, kicking up so much sand that he was choking on the powdery grit as he ran. It got in his eyes and up his nose and in his boots and there was no way he was going to let any of that slow him down. And still they kept coming. From the sides, from the front, they rose like ghouls, arms outstretched in hellish supplication as he dodged and dived around them.
Alia was just visible through his self-created sandstorm. Many of the sand-zombies had decided to come after him, but she had her share, rising up around her. However fast he sprinted, he didn’t seem able to gain ground to catch her up. She was obviously a survivor.
‘Obviously,’ came the ironic thought, through his panic. ‘She left you to the brains brigade quickly enough, didn’t she?’
Now his breath was hitching in short gasps. When he got out of here – correction, if he got out of here – he was going to have to start going to a gym more and sitting in with his assignments a little less. Especially if being dragged onto intergalactic dating shows was to become the norm!
Even as he swore to himself that he would never go on the show again, he saw Alia banging frantically on one of the stores at the end of the street. He heaved himself along, lungs feeling like they were lined with sandpaper, and began the slow process of catching up to her. With shuddering legs, he dodged past the zombie-guard in front of him, hearing it moan pathetically as its fingertips scraped his tunic. Another zig-zag and he was past two more. Alia was close now, but two of the zombies were almost upon her.
Just as he had time to register that large sign above the building that read:
Arrggghhhs
The bolts slid out and the door opened. A humanoid, more than half in shadow, gestured frantically at the girl, then at Lenny as it saw him. Within a fraction of a second, the girl was inside the store. Lenny dived over the two remaining zombies in a highly athletic and stupid manoeuvre that was bound to earn him multiple visits to the chiropractor in years to come. Nevertheless, it achieved its goal and he landed inside the doorway, breathless and groaning, as the bolts slid shut behind him.
After a few moments, a hand was offered to him. He looked up to see Alia standing over him, looking somewhat apologetic.
“Here,” she said. “Let me help.”
He hesitated, battling with pride and resentment.
“Look, I’m sorry,” she said, contritely. “It’s just that you wouldn’t listen, and they were all around us and…”
Common sense won out. He stopped her with a gesture.
“Let’s just forget it, okay? Say you got my attention the best way you could.”
Groaning, he took her hand and hauled himself upright. Then he ventured his first look around Arrggghhhs.
The room was a soulless white colour, from floor to ceiling. The only hints at any character were the plasti-wood counters that rose to waist-height from ground level, around the edges of the place. Heavy chains led from them and through the spines of massive, laminated books – although why they were chained down was anyone’s guess. Anyone trying to run off with a tome that heavy would have to do so with a double hernia. Customers crowded around the magazines, obscuring the view as they hunched over with avaricious gleams in their eyes.
There were tills and counters throughout the centre of the room. All gleaming white and clean in a sterilised way. A long bar-counter ran along the width of the room, near the back. There were queues of people, both at the counters and the back desk. Although the people seemed ordinary enough, the shop-clerks had an entirely different look about them.
There were ten pale-faced and nervous looking creatures stood at the tills, alternating between processing the customers and glancing nervously at the shop entrances. They had that look of Transylvanian village people, awaiting the night visits of the local Count. They were all dressed in pin-striped uniforms with the Arrggghhhs logo on the front of it. Somehow, it only added to the overall effect of lives spent in the expectation of future horrors.
It was the back wall that really caused Lenny to stare, though. It didn’t appear to be a wall at all – more a series of holes in the fabric of time and space. There were about twenty circular rents, dark at the edges and becoming ever more detailed towards the core. Each of them showed images of shelves. Some shelves were wood, others metal, plastic, pulsing light and energy, glass, bamboo and one appeared to be made of living slimy tissue of some sort. The images moved, leaving the overall effect of looking into twenty TV screens at once. They all had one thing in common – the creatures who scaled the shelves.
Colourless, translucent flesh covered skeletal forms. The purple of veins and the redness of muscle could clearly be seen pulsing beneath their skin. Their arms and legs appeared too long, their heads too big for the thin frames. Their eyes were bulbous and lit with a pale lilac glow. They had no hair and they appeared to have no clothes either, although there was a curious genderless appearance to them.
They clambered and leapt from shelf to shelf, like some bizarre frog-mutation. Although there were hundreds of them, they never seemed to get in each others’ way. It was like watching a particularly intricate circus performance. They grabbed boxes from the shelves and moved them about. As Lenny watched, one picked up a rectangular package and threw it straight towards the hole. It flew through, to be caught by one of the pinstriped Arrggghhhs staff and placed on the back counter.
“Number one hundred and fifty eight,” droned the Transylvanian villager. Immediately, one of the customers pushed their way to the front and signed for the box.
Alia shook him gently by the shoulder, rousing him from his fascination with the process.
“Shouldn’t we try to get the remote?” she asked.
Lenny tore his gaze away from the dimensional portals. “Huh? Oh, yeah. We should.”
Together, they wandered over to the plasti-wood counters, shoving in amongst the other customers to find a free catalogue. Lenny reached out to open the front cover, only to snatch his hand back as the book shuddered and pulled up against its chains.
The woman at the next counter flicked a casual gaze at him.
“First timer?” she asked, without much interest. “Corner of the pages, man! You don’t want to be sucked into the warehouse, do you?”
Lenny gulped. Carnivorous catalogues? That would explain the chains then! Gingerly, he reached out towards the top corner of the tome, watching as it quivered up towards him again. As it reached the extent of its leash, he flicked open the page and read down the index (being careful not to use his finger as an aid to reading).
“Electronic goods,” said Alia, from over his shoulder. “Page four thousand and three.”
A very picky game of ‘turn the pages without getting bitten’ followed as they worked their way through the mighty encyclopaedia of goods on display. They were almost at the right section when a sudden shriek caused them to look up. One of the customers on the next counter along had obviously not received the same good advice as they had. His finger was touching one of the pages, and a second later, he was sunk into it, up to the elbow. The book swallowed him up with obscene rapidity, cutting off the yelp mid-squeal. There was a small implosion of air where he had been seconds previously, and a rumble from the book, that sounded decidedly like a belch to Lenny.
Alia silently pointed him to the dimensional holes at the back of the store. The now limp form of the unfortunate customer was being hauled towards a box. As they watched, he was squeezed inside it, before the creatures filled in the gaps with lightweight packing material and nailed the lid down securely.
Lenny gulped and hoped there were air-holes in there somewhere. Just in time, he turned his attention back to the book, where his fingers had strayed perilously close to the page.
His search for the remote control took on a new urgency at this point. Being locked, comatose, in a box until some customer suddenly felt the need for a pet human, was one of the few things that seemed worse than sharing his father’s fate.
He turned the final page and immediately saw the picture of what he wanted. A shiny new remote control for just the type of viewing screen that the Lady had in her room. Taking one of the stubby pencils and a piece of scrap paper, he quickly wrote down the code for the item he wanted and joined the shortest queue.
Arrggghhhs may have had many faults, but lack of speed was not one of them. The five people before him were served promptly and efficiently. Lenny smiled nervously at Alia, wondering if they would have the item in stock. It would be terrible if this was all a wild goose chase and they had to start again from the beginning.
As he got to the front of the queue, it appeared that his worries had been ill-conceived. Or ill-directed, at any point.
“That’ll be thirty nine credits, please,” droned the pale-faced assistant.
“Oh,” said Lenny, stupidly. Then: “Ah,” as his pennilessness hit him. He turned to Alia, electing to try an enquiring, “Err?”
She looked startled. “You don’t have any money? Then… why are we at the shops?”
“Umm…” Lenny looked back at the queue behind him, who were already growing impatient. “I didn’t think! I mean - I thought you might have some?”
She smiled, apologetically. “I have money – but it’s in my original clothes. They didn’t give me any with the costume.”
“If you could move aside, please, sir,” chanted the assistant in his world-weary voice. “I have real customers to attend to.”
“Look,” said Lenny, desperately, “do you have the remote control in stock? Can you just tell me that?”
There was an exasperated muttering from behind him. The assistant huffed out his lips in an obviously impatient manner. Nevertheless, he tapped a few keys and stared at the small screen in front of him.
“Yes,” he said, tediously. “We have just one in stock.”
“Could you reserve it?” asked Lenny, seeing light at the end of the tunnel.
“Sorry Sir, we don’t do reservations.”
“Maybe the Lady could pay for it?” asked Alia, hopefully. “Could you charge it to the haunted manor on the other side of the river?”
The Arrggghhhs employee roused himself from his lethargy enough to cock an eyebrow.
“Got a note from her then, Miss? No? Well, we’d be happy to accept a credit note from the Lady – but seeing as you haven’t got one…” he cocked a thumb meaningfully towards the door.
It looked like the light at the end of the tunnel was rapidly turning into the headlights of a speeding train! Lenny tried one last tactic.
“I want to talk to the manager,” he said, folding his arms stubbornly.
The assistant stared at him for a moment. “Talk to the hand,” he said.
“I mean it!” protested Lenny. “I’m not moving from here until I’ve spoken to…”
The assistant pointed to the far counter. There, at the end, was an ornament of a hand on a spring. It wobbled wildly as a box landed on the counter, slowly settling back into stillness again until the next bump.
“Talk – to – the – hand,” repeated the employee, slowly and clearly. There was an uncharitable titter from behind him. He didn’t turn to see who it was. Blushing and stiff-backed, he walked over to the wide bar-counter where the collections were taking place.
He felt more than a little stupid as he leant down and began speaking into the palm of the microphoned hand.
“Erm… hi?” he said, nervously. “My friend and I were sent here to get a… a remote control. It’s for the Lady of the haunted manor, up past the White Sands. Only… we… forgot to bring any money with us and we were wondering…”
The hand spoke back. “Ah. Another set of adventurers, sent off on a wild goose chase, eh? It’s happened before, lad, it’s happened before.”
“Ahh… it has?”
“A few times.”
Lenny was perplexed. “And no-one has ever succeeded?”
The voice in the hand turned testy. “Well, of course they have, you silly man. You know how it is with remote controls, though. One day you’ve got it, the next it’s gone missing and you’re back to where you began. They’ve gone through more remote controls than fresh victims at that place, let me tell you! Now, what’s your problem? You want the remote but you can’t pay, is that it?”
“I’m sure the Lady would pay if she knew…” began Lenny. He was cut off with a bark of a laugh.
“I’m not,” said the hand. “She wouldn’t pay for her own funeral, that one! Not unless there was something in it for her. No, I suggest you try something else to get what you need – or just forget about the remote altogether.”
“I can’t!” said Lenny, desperately. “I made a promise – and I’ve got to keep it by the end of the day!”
“Hmm. Tricky.” The voice paused, then spoke again. “Well, you can’t have anything for free at Arrggghhhs. You’ll just have to go back and ask the Lady for an alternative.”
“Go back?” protested Lenny. “Through the zombies and across with river? We barely made it this time!”
“Not my problem,” dismissed the voice. “You got no money, you’re not even a customer, lad. You could always use the back door, though. They’ll be slower to catch on to you that way. You should be able to get to the river all right.”
The voice suddenly perked up. “Or… we could give you safer and quicker passage back to the house – if you’re prepared to try out one of our pre-catalogue experimental modes of transport? If you survived it, it would cut miles off your journey. You could fly all the way to the manor in minutes.”
While Lenny was still trying to digest that information, the voice continued, conspiratorially. “Or there’s a third way. I shouldn’t really be telling you this – it’s bad for trade – but I like the look of your face, lad.”
Lenny suppressed a groan. Another male who’d taken to him. The curse was obviously operating at full efficiency.
The hand spoke on. “The building at the end of the street is a library. If you can get in there – I don’t know the exact opening hours, but I know they’re always changing – then you can take the sub-levels down into the Moaning Catacombs. Word is there’s a second remote control at the far end of those. If you make it, you won’t have to pay and you’ll be the Lady’s little golden boy again.”
As the voice fell silent, Lenny considered his options. They all sounded terrible, but time was running out…
Last edited by Shady Stoat on Fri Mar 24, 2006 8:34 am; edited 1 time in total
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Smee
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| Posted: Thu Mar 23, 2006 9:05 am Post subject: |
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Excellent chapter - loved Arrrrgggghhhs although I think the catelogues could do with being laminated. Could touch and wouldn't get sucked in then.
I'm going to have to think about the decision point.
One alternative would to offer to work there for 4 hours (hoping for at least a wage of 9.50Credits per hour) and then buy the remote. Not very romantic though
He could ask Alia whether she knows anything about the consequences of the 'blood promise' and whether he can just forget it?
Otherwise I'm inclined to go to the library. Going back and then out again isn't an option really, far too much effort.
Happy Writing.
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Solomon Birch
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| Posted: Thu Mar 23, 2006 9:45 am Post subject: |
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ROFLMAO!! :biggrin:
Super-stuff here Stoat! Loved the 'orrible Essex girl Sharon, loved the deadly catalogue (nice parody of the real-life deadliness of the Argos catalogue; 'oh, look dear! They've got that phone, sofa [quiet you...], watch, T.V., game, child [you never know... have you read every single page? I think not!], alarm clock and that jewlerry you promised me! GO BUY IT ALL NOW!) and the sand-zombies!
Now, onto the brain-taxing stuff...
Erm....
*  *
Hmmm...?
How about..... no....
You could.... I mean.... Alia and Lenny could try calling on the goat-riding Pirates () of the Haunted House River (that they just crossed) to either aid them in returning to the 'Lady's' mansion or in going to find and retrieve the second remote in the library.
Failing that (maybe cos its just too silly.... but you can never have too silly can you?) I think that they should just go and try and retrieve the remote from the library.
And you know what? Come, come a little closer.... that's right....
*holds breath and steals shoes* ©
_________________
"Humankind cannot stand too much reality" - T.S. Elliot
Thesopholis - A Noir Sci-Fi Story - Chapter 8 is up! Read it here
The End of the Voyage - Chapter 9
Shady the Furry Goblin! [Demon's, Satan and Slobadan Milosevic!] - Chapter 3
The Quest for the Legendary Rubber-Duckie! - Chapter 3
One Last Bullet.... Chapter 3
Green Eyes - Chapter 5
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ethereal_fauna
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| Posted: Thu Mar 23, 2006 9:50 am Post subject: |
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Hilarious stuff Stoat.
Told you he should've ordered off Smeebay...they accept major credit cards.
In fact, he should try that angle. Flash some plastic and see if he can't get the hand that fancies him to bend a few rules.
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Thu Mar 23, 2006 10:06 am Post subject: |
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Just to save me getting shouted at for failing to include another option in the poll...
Lenny has no plastic - unless he tears the corner off one of the magazines. His wallet and Alia's are in their other clothes, safely back on the game world of Blind Date.
He's doshless, creditless... and a little brainless for coming out to the shops without the cash in the first place 
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| Posted: Thu Mar 23, 2006 10:10 am Post subject: |
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Silly guy!
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"Humankind cannot stand too much reality" - T.S. Elliot
Thesopholis - A Noir Sci-Fi Story - Chapter 8 is up! Read it here
The End of the Voyage - Chapter 9
Shady the Furry Goblin! [Demon's, Satan and Slobadan Milosevic!] - Chapter 3
The Quest for the Legendary Rubber-Duckie! - Chapter 3
One Last Bullet.... Chapter 3
Green Eyes - Chapter 5
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ethereal_fauna
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| Posted: Thu Mar 23, 2006 10:14 am Post subject: |
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Well hell, he is useless.
How about a beautifully written and embossed IOU? Maybe he could slip the hand a little tongue or breathe heavy under the fingernails to sucker him into a loan?
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The maker of a sentence launches out into the infinite and builds a road into Chaos and old Night, and is followed by those who hear him with something of wild, creative delight. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
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| Posted: Thu Mar 23, 2006 4:54 pm Post subject: |
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Steal? Otherwise ask if the experimental ride goes two ways, or a shop assistant could go with you with the remote and maybe someone at the other end could pay for it?
I'm out...
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| Posted: Thu Mar 23, 2006 6:00 pm Post subject: |
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Well, going back, no matter how we do it, is a pretty embarrassing admission of defeat, and I doubt that Lenny would be willing to do that with Alia around.
Stealing and flirting with the hand are good options. Another is to offer the customer to look through the carnivorous catalogs for them for a few credits. Dangerous, but that might be just the sort of thing to impress his date...
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| Posted: Fri Mar 24, 2006 12:53 am Post subject: |
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Did the hand voice sound female? If so, then, for some reason, I have an image of him not trying to flirt with it, because of Alia, but if it's male.... He did say he keeps getting unwanted male attention...
He could try and use his obvious attraction to the same sex and 'persuade' the hand to give him what he wants. :biggrin:
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"Humankind cannot stand too much reality" - T.S. Elliot
Thesopholis - A Noir Sci-Fi Story - Chapter 8 is up! Read it here
The End of the Voyage - Chapter 9
Shady the Furry Goblin! [Demon's, Satan and Slobadan Milosevic!] - Chapter 3
The Quest for the Legendary Rubber-Duckie! - Chapter 3
One Last Bullet.... Chapter 3
Green Eyes - Chapter 5
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ethereal_fauna
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| Posted: Fri Mar 24, 2006 8:25 am Post subject: |
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Found a few technicalities.
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The maker of a sentence launches out into the infinite and builds a road into Chaos and old Night, and is followed by those who hear him with something of wild, creative delight. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
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| Posted: Fri Mar 24, 2006 8:35 am Post subject: |
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| Thanks Fawn. Corrected, one and all (I hope!)
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| Posted: Sun Apr 02, 2006 10:21 pm Post subject: |
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| Poll's up for 3 days. Have fun.
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Chinaren
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| Posted: Mon Apr 03, 2006 7:02 am Post subject: |
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I voted for working at Arrrgggghhs but if he gets a no - then head to the library.
Happy Writing
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| Posted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 3:49 am Post subject: |
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Aw, it's gotta be the flirting. Let's just hope its a female rather than an effeminate man. That would end up messily. We don't know what these hand's are capable of. :biggrin:
_________________
"Humankind cannot stand too much reality" - T.S. Elliot
Thesopholis - A Noir Sci-Fi Story - Chapter 8 is up! Read it here
The End of the Voyage - Chapter 9
Shady the Furry Goblin! [Demon's, Satan and Slobadan Milosevic!] - Chapter 3
The Quest for the Legendary Rubber-Duckie! - Chapter 3
One Last Bullet.... Chapter 3
Green Eyes - Chapter 5
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| Posted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 11:17 pm Post subject: |
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| Last day of voting, for all you who haven't. I could do with someone breaking that tie
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| Posted: Wed Apr 05, 2006 12:57 am Post subject: |
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Sorry Stoat, my vote has already been cast! 
_________________
"Humankind cannot stand too much reality" - T.S. Elliot
Thesopholis - A Noir Sci-Fi Story - Chapter 8 is up! Read it here
The End of the Voyage - Chapter 9
Shady the Furry Goblin! [Demon's, Satan and Slobadan Milosevic!] - Chapter 3
The Quest for the Legendary Rubber-Duckie! - Chapter 3
One Last Bullet.... Chapter 3
Green Eyes - Chapter 5
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| Posted: Wed Apr 05, 2006 12:59 am Post subject: |
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| Don't worry, Soily. If all else fails, I'll do both options
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| Posted: Wed Apr 05, 2006 1:12 am Post subject: |
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Great stuff. Can't wait!
*holds breath*
_________________
"Humankind cannot stand too much reality" - T.S. Elliot
Thesopholis - A Noir Sci-Fi Story - Chapter 8 is up! Read it here
The End of the Voyage - Chapter 9
Shady the Furry Goblin! [Demon's, Satan and Slobadan Milosevic!] - Chapter 3
The Quest for the Legendary Rubber-Duckie! - Chapter 3
One Last Bullet.... Chapter 3
Green Eyes - Chapter 5
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| Posted: Wed Apr 05, 2006 3:39 am Post subject: |
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LOL, was wondering what you were on about for a minute then Chinaman...
_________________
"Humankind cannot stand too much reality" - T.S. Elliot
Thesopholis - A Noir Sci-Fi Story - Chapter 8 is up! Read it here
The End of the Voyage - Chapter 9
Shady the Furry Goblin! [Demon's, Satan and Slobadan Milosevic!] - Chapter 3
The Quest for the Legendary Rubber-Duckie! - Chapter 3
One Last Bullet.... Chapter 3
Green Eyes - Chapter 5
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| Posted: Wed Apr 05, 2006 4:50 am Post subject: |
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| I'll break the tie if it's not too late.
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| Posted: Wed Apr 05, 2006 4:52 am Post subject: |
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| Thanks Mother Goose. And anyone else who still wants to vote - you've got about 18 hours left to do so
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Shady Stoat
Elder
Joined: 02 Oct 2005
Topics: 76
Posts: 2950
Location: England
Items
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| Posted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 12:02 am Post subject: |
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| Okay. Offering to work at Arrggghhhs to earn the credits is the winning option. I'm not saying that a few more of those great ideas may not appear in there somewhere though
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