Last week as you recall…
Dr. Smith opened his Suitcase.
He called it a suitcase, but it was no larger than a briefcase.
They were in a small tunnel in the Undercity of Legopolis, standing in front of a disconcertingly creepy door.
It was the door to Dr. Smith's basement, naturally.
Dr. Smith produced a Key, and they went inside.
|-=fig. 403: basements=-|
"This isn't half as creepy as I expected it to be," Teresa Remarked. "I Expected it to be two, three times as creepy as this."
Dr. Smith didn't answer.
He wasn't comfortable.
"There are Bad Things in the dark." He said, with a calm statement-of-fact tone.
"What sort of bad things?" Asked Capt. Brown, concerned for his friend.
"Oh he's just being dramatic." Scoffed Teresa, picking her way over the skeletons strewn across the floor.
Capt. Brown looked at her. "As long as I've known Dr. Smith, which I must say is a considerable amount of time, He has not once been dramatic. What sort of 'bad things' Zachary?"
It was then that the light went out.
Something big was moving in the dark.
And it was Drooling.
The light came back on, but it was weaker, adding only shape to the darkness.
|-=fig. 404: bad things=-|
"SHOOT IT!" Dr. Smith yelled, as he scrambled away from the Bad Thing. Capt. Brown had already thought of that, and in one well-practiced move he had both his revolvers out of their shoulder holsters and was firing away.
It would have been more impressive if the guns hadn't completely failed to work.
"Zachary, first thing when we get back, invent me a water-proof gun."
The Bad Thing's hideous fangs snapped at the air where Dr. Smith had been not moments before. It didn't seem to know where Dr. Smith had gone. "Nobody make any noise! I think the thing's blind. It would make sense, living in complete darkness as it does."
"What is it?" Whispered Teresa.
"It's the thing that lives under the bed, in the closet, in the basement. The thing children are rightfully afraid of."
"I've never seen anything. " Capt. Brown, uncle of eight, whispered.
"Fool! You think it would let adults see it? How naïve are you?"
The Bad Thing's grotesque tentacles were feeling out the floor, It may not have been able to see it's prey, but it could hear their hearts beating, and smell their fear. They would make a tasty dinner.
Dr. Smith was gradually edging his way over to his suitcase.
The pleasant click of the snaps as Dr. Smith opened the suitcase.
A click was all the Bad Thing needed.
Dr. Smith reached into the bag, and pulled out his sword, It was a proper sword, well-used and at least three feet long. It shouldn't have been able to fit in that suitcase, but it had.
As the Bad Thing lunged Dr. Smith lunged too, he thrust his sword up through the Bad Things chin, skewering it like a kebob. In gave an unearthly scream, something between the noise people imagine dinosaurs made and something indescribable, like a nightmare.
The Bad Thing thrashed about, spewing dark-purple blood everywhere. Dr. Smith removed the sword, and the thing slunk back into the darkness. Slunk may not be the right word, slithered maybe. In any event, it made absolutely no noise. Which was frightening. "We don't have much time. We need to get out of here, now. "
Teresa had spotted something. "There!" she said pointing.
|-=fig. 405: the way out=-|
She had spotted the stairs out.
"Run. Quickly." Dr. Smith said.
They ran quickly. The stairs were slippery with mold and terminated in a hatch.
Dr. Smith was in front so he opened the hatch first.
|-=fig. 406: home=-|
"Sir," said Jeeves, Dr. Smith's robotic butler "If I may be so bold, I would much prefer it that every time you return home you did not ruin your only serviceable suit of clothes."
"Jeeves, make sure no one ever goes to the basement."
"Very good Sir."
Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.
Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.