The Continuing Weekly Adventures of Dr. Zachary Smith:
Episode 46: Побег из тюрьмы злодея Северный
{Escape from Northern Villain Jail}
Last Week as You Recall, Dr. Smith had, through a complicated series of events, found himself incarcerated in the jail cell of the northern villains. This, normally, would stymie even the great mind of Dr. Zachary Smith, "I'm Stymied" He'd say. But luckily he doesn't need to say that. Because besides his cell mate {the illustrious Captain James Brown, Mayor of The Grand City Of Legopolis, who isn't looking too good, owing to a large scar down his arm, and numerous {now patched} bullet-holes in his coat,} The guard is on Dr. Smith's side. He is on Dr. Smith's side because he is Dr. Smith's own father, Zachary Morton Smith, who was kidnapped one day by the dastardly Northern Villains, scourge of the north. Last week we left them just as Dr. Smith had discovered this fact…
"Hey! Dad! Let us out if you're here to rescue us!" "Right-o son." He fit the key into the lock and wrenched open the door, releasing Dr. Smith and Capt. Brown from their snowy reform school.
There was a brief embrace of father and son, "Dad! It's so good see you again after all this time, and the kidnapping and everything. You know James?" "Of course I know James, he's your only friend. Hello James, still neurotic is he?" "Yes sir Morton, He's still completely deranged, brilliant, but deranged." "You know I'm still standing right here?" Dr. Smith's father, taking charge of the conversation, completely ignored Dr. Smith. "There will be time for more small talk later, right now we need to get out of here. Here, I think there's a way out over here." As they half-ran, half-trudged through the icy passages, a thought occurred to Dr. Smith, "Dad?" "Hmn?" " If you knew a way out, why didn't you just leave a long time ago?" "Transportation son, it's 200 miles of snow in every direction. I Couldn't leave so I convinced them that I was Russian, like them, just so they wouldn't kill me. It turned out pretty well, They made me a guard! It's only probationary of course, But it kept me alive long enough so that you could come here with that flying car of yours and get me out of here!" He saw the expression on Dr. Smith's face, it was that of one who is either worried, or constipated. "You did bring the car didn't you?" "Well… Getting captured wasn't part if the plan, I think we'd settled on 'Plan: Marseilles' right James?–" Capt. Brown, not wanting any of the blame spread to himself, just nodded silently. "–when quite by accident 'Plan: Budapest' happened." Dr. Smith's father, Morton, thought to himself, then failing to remember anything about Budapest said "What happened in Budapest?" "Well, James and I were minding our own business, Buying–" "–Stealing–" interjected Capt. Brown, Dr. Smith continued "–Stealing fruit from the stalls along the main road, when 20, no, it was 200 Arabs, swaddled in black robes jumped out of nowhere and attacked us!" "Because you were stealing fruit?" "Yes." They trudged in silence for awhile, "Zachary, Hungary is nowhere near Saudi Arabia, Might these '200 Arabs, swaddled in black robes' have been a passel of policemen?" It's quite hard to squirm and trudge at the same time but Dr. Smith managed it. "The point is, 'Plan: Budapest' has come to mean a sneak attack. James and I were out on The Digger No. 5! Trying to find you actually, when we got attacked by The Northern Villains, they shot me with a tranquilizer and tried to kill James here." Capt. Brown piped up, as this seemed to be his part of the narrative, "Actually Zachary, I'm immune to Tranquilizer darts. Thick skin, Most of my body is covered in coats and such, so there weren't very many places they could shoot me, and I have an extremely slow metabolism." Morton and Dr. Smith both looked at him in wonder, the question begged to be asked, so Dr. Smith did; "How'd you end up so scarred then if all they did was shoot you with a dart you're immune to?" "After they failed to tranq' me, they boarded The Digger No. 5!, and what with all the spinning machinery Morton here put in the darn thing, and my lack of a weapon, I couldn't properly engage the villain in battle. Most of these wounds are inflicted by The Digger No. 5! itself." As the absurdity of the situation sank in they turned what can only be described as a corner, and far off in the distance was a glimmer of daylight. "Ah!" Said Morton, "See Son, I told you there was a way out." But Dr. Smith knew that without The Flying Jaguar, Dr. Smith's Flying car of renown, The way to the outside air held no escape for our hapless team. "Dad, Could you tell me on this map where we are?" He had pulled a Map of the area out of his suitcase, and was attempting to unfold the wretched thing on a nearby handily flat piece of ice. Morton Pointed. "About here, son." "How far out does the territory of the Northern Villains extend?" "Hard to say son, but it goes at least as far as this ridge." Capt. Brown spoke up worriedly, "Zachary, I parked the car right there! In a cave on the east side of that ridge!" Dr. Smith smiled. A rare occurrence, in itself, and one not to be risked, especially now, with these freezing conditions as his mouth itself may freeze like that, and then where would he be?
But It didn't freeze, and with his continued mouth-related articulation he said: "Dad? Where do the Northern Villains keep their captured vehicles?"
-=-
It was dark and poorly lit in the Northern Villain garage. You would think the Villains would like to actually see their stolen vehicles, but not in this case.
{Escape from Northern Villain Jail}
Last Week as You Recall, Dr. Smith had, through a complicated series of events, found himself incarcerated in the jail cell of the northern villains. This, normally, would stymie even the great mind of Dr. Zachary Smith, "I'm Stymied" He'd say. But luckily he doesn't need to say that. Because besides his cell mate {the illustrious Captain James Brown, Mayor of The Grand City Of Legopolis, who isn't looking too good, owing to a large scar down his arm, and numerous {now patched} bullet-holes in his coat,} The guard is on Dr. Smith's side. He is on Dr. Smith's side because he is Dr. Smith's own father, Zachary Morton Smith, who was kidnapped one day by the dastardly Northern Villains, scourge of the north. Last week we left them just as Dr. Smith had discovered this fact…
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| -=fig. 323: Mortoninski=- |
There was a brief embrace of father and son, "Dad! It's so good see you again after all this time, and the kidnapping and everything. You know James?" "Of course I know James, he's your only friend. Hello James, still neurotic is he?" "Yes sir Morton, He's still completely deranged, brilliant, but deranged." "You know I'm still standing right here?" Dr. Smith's father, taking charge of the conversation, completely ignored Dr. Smith. "There will be time for more small talk later, right now we need to get out of here. Here, I think there's a way out over here." As they half-ran, half-trudged through the icy passages, a thought occurred to Dr. Smith, "Dad?" "Hmn?" " If you knew a way out, why didn't you just leave a long time ago?" "Transportation son, it's 200 miles of snow in every direction. I Couldn't leave so I convinced them that I was Russian, like them, just so they wouldn't kill me. It turned out pretty well, They made me a guard! It's only probationary of course, But it kept me alive long enough so that you could come here with that flying car of yours and get me out of here!" He saw the expression on Dr. Smith's face, it was that of one who is either worried, or constipated. "You did bring the car didn't you?" "Well… Getting captured wasn't part if the plan, I think we'd settled on 'Plan: Marseilles' right James?–" Capt. Brown, not wanting any of the blame spread to himself, just nodded silently. "–when quite by accident 'Plan: Budapest' happened." Dr. Smith's father, Morton, thought to himself, then failing to remember anything about Budapest said "What happened in Budapest?" "Well, James and I were minding our own business, Buying–" "–Stealing–" interjected Capt. Brown, Dr. Smith continued "–Stealing fruit from the stalls along the main road, when 20, no, it was 200 Arabs, swaddled in black robes jumped out of nowhere and attacked us!" "Because you were stealing fruit?" "Yes." They trudged in silence for awhile, "Zachary, Hungary is nowhere near Saudi Arabia, Might these '200 Arabs, swaddled in black robes' have been a passel of policemen?" It's quite hard to squirm and trudge at the same time but Dr. Smith managed it. "The point is, 'Plan: Budapest' has come to mean a sneak attack. James and I were out on The Digger No. 5! Trying to find you actually, when we got attacked by The Northern Villains, they shot me with a tranquilizer and tried to kill James here." Capt. Brown piped up, as this seemed to be his part of the narrative, "Actually Zachary, I'm immune to Tranquilizer darts. Thick skin, Most of my body is covered in coats and such, so there weren't very many places they could shoot me, and I have an extremely slow metabolism." Morton and Dr. Smith both looked at him in wonder, the question begged to be asked, so Dr. Smith did; "How'd you end up so scarred then if all they did was shoot you with a dart you're immune to?" "After they failed to tranq' me, they boarded The Digger No. 5!, and what with all the spinning machinery Morton here put in the darn thing, and my lack of a weapon, I couldn't properly engage the villain in battle. Most of these wounds are inflicted by The Digger No. 5! itself." As the absurdity of the situation sank in they turned what can only be described as a corner, and far off in the distance was a glimmer of daylight. "Ah!" Said Morton, "See Son, I told you there was a way out." But Dr. Smith knew that without The Flying Jaguar, Dr. Smith's Flying car of renown, The way to the outside air held no escape for our hapless team. "Dad, Could you tell me on this map where we are?" He had pulled a Map of the area out of his suitcase, and was attempting to unfold the wretched thing on a nearby handily flat piece of ice. Morton Pointed. "About here, son." "How far out does the territory of the Northern Villains extend?" "Hard to say son, but it goes at least as far as this ridge." Capt. Brown spoke up worriedly, "Zachary, I parked the car right there! In a cave on the east side of that ridge!" Dr. Smith smiled. A rare occurrence, in itself, and one not to be risked, especially now, with these freezing conditions as his mouth itself may freeze like that, and then where would he be?
But It didn't freeze, and with his continued mouth-related articulation he said: "Dad? Where do the Northern Villains keep their captured vehicles?"
-=-
It was dark and poorly lit in the Northern Villain garage. You would think the Villains would like to actually see their stolen vehicles, but not in this case.
 |
| -=fig. 324: The Flying Jaguar!=- |
Morton started to cross the vast, yet empty, space. "Come Son, there's nothing to fear here!" Dr. Smith quite suddenly halted that topic of conversation by pushing Morton into the snow-covered wall with his forearm. "Dad, That's what scares me." Turns out he was right, the cavern was not as empty as it first seemed, all along the wall were guards, armed to the teeth. And some, lacking teeth, were armed to the gums. "James, I was thinking Plan: Marrakesh" James scoffed, "Zachary, that'll never work. for one thing, where are we going to find an angry rhinoceros and twelve dancing girls out here?" Dr. Smith shook his head, " I don't think they were crucial, I think we can work it with just the three of us. James, how many guards can you take out with–" He paused to check his suitcase "–A dissertation on the political situation in eastern japan during the 1830's, a spoon, a mug that says: "Latte's are for babies!", and a typewriter?" "What about that sword of yours?" "Yes, well, I'm using that." Morton Looked on in amazement. "Things like this happen to you often?" he said. "Oh yeah," Capt. Brown replied, "Just about every week, why do you ask?" "It doesn't seem like you're very prepared, You know, It's only about 50 yards in front of us. Why don't we just make a run for it?" Capt. Brown looked at Morton incredulously, "Because they'd shoot us before we got halfway there, and if, by some miracle, we did make it there in one piece, how do you suggest we get out of here? fly through the ceiling? It's at least 20 feet of ice and snow!" But Dr. Smith had that far-off look that he get's when he thinks. "No, That's a good idea, we'll fly through the ceiling." Capt. Brown and Morton, like some sort of barbershop duet, chorused "What?" " I mean we can fly out of here, right through the ceiling. We can use the heat shield. We dash across on three, 1, 2, 3!"
They ran as fast as you can in snow that is up to your knees and managed to make it to the car in one piece. "Son?" Said Morton "Where do I sit? This is a two-seater." "Hop in the trunk, It turns into a seat. Okay James, you're driving, start 'er up." "Son?" "Yeah dad?" "Why is there a basement in your trunk?" Dr. Smith stopped pulling levers and pushing buttons seemingly at random for a moment to answer his father, "Oh. That, Dad, I'll explain later, there should be a green lever back there, pull it, and a seat should pop up." Morton Pulled the lever, and a seat did indeed slide out, as smooth as orange marmalade. Which is to say, not very smoothly at all. "O.K. James, on the count of three you push your red button, I turn this red knob, you ready?" There was a nod of agreement "Dad you buckled up?" "Yes!" "Good, 1, 2, 3!" The Flying Jaguar! Was suddenly enveloped in a red glow, "Straight up James!" Dr. Smith yelled over the drone of the heat shield, " Hurry! we can only keep this up for 15 seconds!" as the 15 seconds ticked down, The Northern Villains fired their bullets, but they did no harm. Because besides melting through frozen prisons, the heat shield can also melt through bullets, and the molten lead dripped harmlessly away from The Flying Jaguar! "Ten seconds!" They broke into the sunlight, barley scraping the 1 second mark. If this were a film, about now a dramatic overture would be taking place. But since this isn't a film, and I have no way of getting sound to you as you read these word, you will have to imagine it. Think to yourselves, "Golly, what pretty music!" or words to that effect. Dr. Smith popped his head up, "Everybody all right?" No one heard his words as the wind had whipped them away from anyone's ears. "JAMES! SLOW DOWN!" Capt. Brown heard his words, and slowed down. That diminished the whipping wind noticeably. Peals of nervous laughter broke out all over The Flying Jaguar! As the relief of escaping from The Northern Villains hit our passengers. But Dr. Smith gets down to business. "Dad? You have your fingers on the pulse of The Northern Villains, have they heard anything about Jeeves?" "That butler we had when you were a child? I think he died." "No, Dad, A robotic butler, named Jeeves." "He was a robot eh? That would explain how efficiently he butled." Dr. Smith shook his head, "No, Dad. Let's look at this from a different angle. Have there been any sudden temporal disturbances? Sudden geographic changes? Strange radio activity?" Morton thought for a moment, "You know there is this one stretch of canyon all the border patrols complain of. They Say their radios conk out whenever they are within ten seconds of it." "Ah, that'll be Jeeves, doing whatever he can with his remaining power. Co-ordinates?" Morton gave them up almost instantly, his being a patent clerk before being adult-napped gave him quite the head for numbers.
The Beautiful, frozen landscape unrolled before The Flying Jaguar! As if t'were a spilt iced cream, the lumps and bumps melting their way through your heirloom Persian rug.
-=-
The Valley of the Robotic Butler was easily found, especially with Dr. Smith's patented H.E.I.S.T.™ Which scanned for Jeeves' unique frequency. {H.E.I.S.T.™ is not available in stores! call right now and we'll throw in FREE interstellar transporter FREE with your order!}
-=-
They Landed in The Valley of the Robotic Butler, "You said that patrols come through here often?" Asked Capt. Brown "No, they never come out into the air, they're on the other side of that wall usually." Morton answered, pointing to the south. "But they try to avoid the area if they can because the interference nigh on explodes their eardrums." Dr. Smith smiled again, "That would be Jeeves' 'Death Rattle' I'm quite proud of that actually, It's based upon the same principle of that noise you get when your hold a RadioPhone [3gS]™up to some cheap gramophone loudspeakers, That annoying buzzing? Robotic Death Rattle. Jeeves broadcasts that on every possible frequency within about 2 miles and it serves the dual purpose of keeping people away from the 'body' and allowing me to find Jeeves and get him out of whatever trouble he's in." Everyone stared at Dr. Smith. "What?" He said. It's unfortunate that at times like these that there is no one in your audience willing to speak up, and admit that they haven't been listening to word you have said on account of their attention being focused on that evil-looking insect that has landed on the brim of your hat. "AAAHHH!" Yelled Dr. Smith as the evil-looking insect succumbed to the cold, and fell to the ground inches from Dr. Smith's face. everyone's eyes followed the insect to the ground "Why didn't anyone tell me there was a Vespula vulgaris on my hat!" Quite suddenly the ground and various items of scenery became very interesting. Before Dr. Smith could finish interrogating his father and only friend, a Robotic Death Rattle rang out in the canyon. "Hey! That Sounded like Jeeves, Over there!"
It was Jeeves.
Jeeves, a robot, had been caught in the disastrous de-coloring of Legopolis, which was caused by the villainous Count Villiam Von TipRău, scourge of Transylvania. Strangely, a loss of color affects robots more deeply than it does humans. Color is tied almost directly to the soul, and humans, soulless as they may seem, can recover at any time. Their recover may be assisted by a beautiful kite, or a certain type of fatty food, but Robots, with no desire to eat and no appreciation for beauty, only have as much soul as you put into the construction. And once that's gone, that's it. In humans a lack of color is paralyzing, in robots, it's worse. Oh they may function, but not nearly as as well as they did. The individual pieces may work, but it would only be a machine. "Oh dear," Said Dr. Smith "This is bad. Where's my suitcase?" Dr. Smith pulled over his suitcase, it's a briefcase, really. A small brown leather affair, with metal fittings, and a matching leather handle. It was a bit worse for wear but wouldn't look out of place in the hand of the business man off to work. Dr. Smith latched it open. "James help me put Jeeves in here." Morton look on in awe, "It'll never fit in there!" He said, "The robot's got to be about three times as big as that tiny little suitcase!" Dr. Smith held the small suitcase steady while Capt. Brown negotiated the robot in. It was starting to look like Morton was right, and that Jeeves was, in fact, too big. But that changed when Dr. Smith said: "James, push a little harder, I think we've nearly got it." Capt. Brown Pushed, and Jeeves was sucked into the Suitcase with a noise that can only be described as "SHLOOP!" Dr. Smith turned to capt. Brown, "James, you take first watch, Dad & I are going in the trunk." "What!?" Said Morton. Capt. Brown saluted. "Relax Dad, I put in a ladder." They walked to the Trunk, Dr. Smith opened the trunk and pressed a red button, causing the seat to grind away, revealing a hole. "Alright Dad, what I want you to do is climb down the ladder, walk straight across the platform, don't go to the sides, and climb up the other ladder, can you do that?" Morton nodded. "Good, it's gonna be pitch black, so be sure to walk straight across." Morton nodded, and climbed down. It was in fact, pitch black at the bottom of the ladder, there were strange noises to the left, and gurglings to the right. Morton walked straight across and at the other side was another ladder, with a lantern attached to a rung, five feet up. This ladder was more slimy than the other one, but at least it was better lit. The the top of the ladder was a hatch, Morton pushed it open and light streamed in, blinding him momentarily. When he regained his sight, morton stepped out, onto a solid tiled catwalk. "What is this place?" He said.
Join us next week for our next exciting episode!
Episode 47: Hatshrooms
Same Time, Same Blog.
Tuesday 8:10 AM, right here on Save the croissants.com
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| -=fig. 325: mad dash=- |
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| -=fig. 325: flying toward jeeves=- |
-=-
The Valley of the Robotic Butler was easily found, especially with Dr. Smith's patented H.E.I.S.T.™ Which scanned for Jeeves' unique frequency. {H.E.I.S.T.™ is not available in stores! call right now and we'll throw in FREE interstellar transporter FREE with your order!}
-=-
They Landed in The Valley of the Robotic Butler, "You said that patrols come through here often?" Asked Capt. Brown "No, they never come out into the air, they're on the other side of that wall usually." Morton answered, pointing to the south. "But they try to avoid the area if they can because the interference nigh on explodes their eardrums." Dr. Smith smiled again, "That would be Jeeves' 'Death Rattle' I'm quite proud of that actually, It's based upon the same principle of that noise you get when your hold a RadioPhone [3gS]™up to some cheap gramophone loudspeakers, That annoying buzzing? Robotic Death Rattle. Jeeves broadcasts that on every possible frequency within about 2 miles and it serves the dual purpose of keeping people away from the 'body' and allowing me to find Jeeves and get him out of whatever trouble he's in." Everyone stared at Dr. Smith. "What?" He said. It's unfortunate that at times like these that there is no one in your audience willing to speak up, and admit that they haven't been listening to word you have said on account of their attention being focused on that evil-looking insect that has landed on the brim of your hat. "AAAHHH!" Yelled Dr. Smith as the evil-looking insect succumbed to the cold, and fell to the ground inches from Dr. Smith's face. everyone's eyes followed the insect to the ground "Why didn't anyone tell me there was a Vespula vulgaris on my hat!" Quite suddenly the ground and various items of scenery became very interesting. Before Dr. Smith could finish interrogating his father and only friend, a Robotic Death Rattle rang out in the canyon. "Hey! That Sounded like Jeeves, Over there!"
It was Jeeves.
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| -=fig. 326: jeeves in the snow=- |
Join us next week for our next exciting episode!
Episode 47: Hatshrooms
Same Time, Same Blog.
Tuesday 8:10 AM, right here on Save the croissants.com
-=Best Regards=-
•
Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.
Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.
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And have a nice rest–of–your–day you guys.
—Jacob