Tuesday, June 15, 2010

The C.W.A. of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode 58: Chased by The French



Last week as you recall…
 Jeeves poured another cup of tea.
   Being a robot he couldn't drink it himself, of course.

But this wasn't for him.   He set the cup in front of the skeleton and took the seat opposite.

-=fig. 374: he was determined not to blink, not that robots blink=-
He had no idea how the other cup of tea was drained, but he suspected that the skeleton was involved.
 This time though, he was going to give his macabre dinner-mate his full attention.
   His eagle-eyed efforts were interrupted when the door burst open, as if kicked hard by a steal-toed boot, and Dr. Smith came sliding in at speed.  Capt. Brown wasn't far behind, he slammed the door and leaned against it, as if keeping out something…french-army shaped.

 -=fig. 375: a rough entrance=-
"James," said Dr. Smith from the floor "You really need to stop doing that. I'm not as tough as you are."  There was an audible pop as Dr. Smith straightened out his shoulders "Right.  Where's Charles, James?"
 "He wouldn't fit through the door, Zachary.  It's a tiny door, and he's so–"
  "Wouldn't fit? Rubbish! Hello Jeeves, where are the controls for the house?"
  "Behind you Sir, in the corner."
   "Of course they are, that where they always are!"

-=fig. 376: controls in the corner=-
Dr. Smith dragged a chair over to the control panel so that he could reach the levers and knobs, knocking over a hatstand in his haste. 
Lights blinked and things whirred, Dr. smith pressed several buttons and a lever.
  After noticing his mistake he pulled the lever instead.
"Hurry it up Zachary!" Said Capt Brown from his position barricading the bucking door.
 "Going as fast I can."  Dr. Smith's hands flew over the controls, like a ballerina, or a dragonfly.  Something extremely graceful. 
 A blinding flash of purple light, emanating from just off-screen.

-=fig. 377: charles=-
A glass of orange juice shattered, as any glass would be apt to do when squashed under the stone-like foot of an O'Gre. 
 Why there was a glass of orange juice carefully placed in the center of the kitchen floor would remain a mystery.  
" 'ullo Mr. Jeeves. I be assuming we're inside Mr. Doctor Smith's house?"
 "That you are sir."  
Dr. Smith ran across the room, "Hello again Charles, I trust your journey was pleasant?" 

-=fig. 378: a freshly teleported house guest=-
  "I've never been teleported before, if that's whatcho mean.  It was slightly disconcertin'.  Especially the bit at the end when I find out yer' house is bigger'n the inside."
Dr. Smith nodded, this tended to disconcert even the most concerted of people.
 Capt. Brown wedged the fallen hatstand on the door-handle, rendering his previous method of door-blockage unnecessary.   
   "That won't hold them for long, I hope you have a plan Zachary." Capt. Brown's deep voice boomed.  Were he to take up opera he would be a basso voce
    "Of course I have a plan." Said Dr. Smith, Baritone.  "Jeeves, why are you staring at that Skeleton?" 
"Every cup of tea I put to this macabre decoration disappears."  Said Jeeves, Monotone,  without breaking his laser-focused stare into the skeletons dead eye-sockets.   Dr. Smith posed the obvious question, slightly disbelievingly. "Jeeves, why are you feeding the skeleton tea?"  
  Jeeves looked as embarrassed as a robot unfamiliar with facial expressions can.  "It looked thirsty Sir." 
   Dr. Smith nodded and took a surreptitious look over the shoulder of the skeleton. 
    "I'm afraid your valiant efforts, Jeeves, are in vain.  This cup is…Bone Dry." Dr. Smith indulged in a quiet smile at his pun.   Jeeves was briefly flummoxed.  "That is highly Improbable Sir, Given that my table-mate has not moved an inch."  
 "See for yourself." 
Jeeves looked, the cup was indeed drained. 
 He examined the table but found nothing. 
  While this minor mystery was going on the main door was gently giving way to the french battering ram. 
 "Zachary the door won't hold for long." 
  "I should hope not James, If it holds out much longer they might lose interest, and what do invaders who have lost interest in their quarry do?  They loot the city that's what." 
   Capt. Brown became very patriotic, very quickly. 
 "No french pirates will be taking over my city.
 "That's the spirit James.  Come help me with this will you?" 
-=-
-=fig. 380: les pirates français=-
The feeble Hatstand finally gave way.
  The door burst open and a group of pirates barged in, you could tell they were french because they wore berets.
    No sane person would wear a beret, unless forced by national pride.  These Pirates, being neither sane nor particularly meek, were the perfect candidates for such head-wear.
    The leader, a mean-looking chap with an eye-patch and a red beard started to yell at Jeeves:
"Où avez l'idiot grande casquette et le fou à quatre yeux parti?  Dites-nous en métal-homme!"   Jeeves quietly processed the strange syntax, then replied in flawless french: "They went through one of those three doors.  I would advise caution though, for one door leads to a deadly peril, one to great riches, and one to your quarry.  I have erased the guide-file from my memory, So I'm no help.  Choose wisely."
The pirates carefully examined the doors, then a third went through the one on the left, a third the center, and a third the right.  
 once all the pirates had gone, Jeeves went over to the control panel and pulled the largest lever.
  All three doors exploded. 
-=fig. 381: sneakily hidden=-

"Is it safe to come out now Mr. Jeeves?" 
 "Yes it is Charles." 
  Capt. Brown clapped Jeeves on the back in a friendly gesture.  "That was one heck of a lie." 
    "Thank your sir, but it was all thanks to the master 'rigging' the doors to explode.  I merely had the easy job."
 Dr. Smith was already at the controls, resetting the three doors.*






-=Best Regards=-
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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.
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Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.
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*POSTSCRIPT:
   To their  defaults, not to explode again.

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And have a nice rest–of–your–day you guys.

—Jacob

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