The C.W.A. of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode 61: The Undercity

Last week as you recall…
  Water dripped from somewhere.
   Drip.
   Drip.
   No one comes to this portion of the city anymore, not if they can help it.
Thousands of pipes, some functioning some not, hung at head height, just waiting for the next careless blunderer.  Legopolis, {the city above,} like most cities is mainly built on itself.
  But unlike most cities Legopolis is built on a plateau high above a desert, and the forgotten alleys and lost sewage systems are exposed on all four sides.
   A security flaw the french were only too happy to employ.

-=-

Dr. Smiths head smacked into another pipe. 

 This one wasn't marked, but he could guess by the smell its application. 

   "Are you sure my charges will be safe?" asked, Teresa, recently rescued schoolteacher.

   "Don't worry.  Jeeves' hands are cold and robotic but thoroughly capable of handling forty-odd children."  Dr. Smith was beginning to get the hang of this 'talking to women' thing.  It was just like talking to regular people, but with the underlying threat of being murdered for a misconstrued tense.
"…shkz… Nous avons les idiots qui suivent le fou brun casquette dans le manteau coincé dans un garage. Au cours. …brzt."
Dr. Smith made a 'be silent' motion with his finger and his lips, and they faded into the shadows.

-=fig. 389: cleverly hidden=-

A man in black was holding a radio.
  It was not the kind which you could get Tchaikovsky on, but more of the hand-held communication sort.
  He had ensconced himself thoroughly into the belly of the city. Light was provided by a grille in the ceiling, tea by a teapot and a tap in the waterline. 

-=fig. 390: nefarious planning=-

He looked to be planning something nefarious, judging by his map and gun. 

He spoke into his radio:

"Droit. Tuer les idiots étrangers.  Laissez aucun survivant.  Au cours."

  Teresa gasped. 

   Dr. Smith looked at her, "What?"  He whispered.  They sneaked out of earshot of the Frenchman, and she told him.   

  "They're talking about Capt. Brown!" 

    "How can you tell?" 

      "Well, they're using code names, but 'the brown hatted fool in the coat?' Who else could that be?" 

         "What was the rest of it?" 

            " 'Right, kill the stupid foreigners.  Leave no survivors.' Don't you speak french?" 

     Dr. Smith chose not to answer.  He did not, in fact, speak french. It was a flaw, but he had never gone to school. 

There was an intermittent blast of steam escaping from a vent around knee height.  This made conversation difficult, because it's hard to squirm in pain and talk, but Dr. Smith had a plan.  

-=-

The man in black pored over the map. 

  His task was interrupted by the clouds of steam obscuring his vision.  

 His spine stiffened when he felt the thin metal presence at his Adams Apple. 

 "Hi there."  Said Dr. smith as the steam cleared, and pressed the knife threateningly closer to the man's neck. 

"Qui êtes-vous? Que faites-vous ici!"

   Dr. Smith looked to Teresa, Who was standing just off screen, she knew this signal.  "Tell him we won't hurt him, we just need him to call off his forces."  

Teresa nodded and translated: "The madman will kill you instantly unless you call off your troops."   The Frenchman quivered.  "Never! My life will end before I surrender.  For king, for country!"   

 "What'd he say?" Asked Dr. Smith. 

  "We have a patriot on our hands." Replied Teresa.

During all this conversation the Frenchman's hand had been sidling across the table, and now his fingers closed around the handle of his gun.  It was a small thing, easily concealable, but concealing it was not what this Frenchman had in mind.

-=-

The French forces moved closer. 

  The one who looked to be in charge received an order in french over his radio, 

The French forces charged.  There were quite a few of them, actually.  Certainly more than the few measly troops of the Legopolian army, who were trapped in the garage. 

Suddenly, gunfire from above.

-=fig. 391: the honourable brigadier=-

Brigadier Black laughed that guttural laugh of his and strafed the French once more from his position above the action.
  The French retreated.
   He removed the grate which separated him from the fight, and swung down.  "Why hello thar Cap'n. Be you needin' some help?"
 "Actually Brigadier, what we need is an escape." Said Capt. Brown, the rest of the measly troops agreed. 
 "Right then Cap'n, Here's me rope. Cap'ns first."
Capt. Brown went up the rope first, followed by the rest of the measly troops.   The French showed their heads once more, and Brigadier Black shot at them in a halfhearted way, just to keep their heads down.   Once the troops were safely in the higher-up passageway, Capt. Brown turned to Brigadier Black.  "Thank you Brigadier, that was a daring rescue.  You'll receive commendations for this."
 "Thank ya Sir, I'll add 'em to me others."

-=-

"Now, let's not do anything…hasty." Said Teresa to the Frenchman, but he continued to point the gun at her.
 "I'm prepared to die for my country, but by Jacques I'll take as many Legopolians with me as I can." 

"What'd he say!"  Dr. Smith was getting worried now.  Teresa translated.   " I thought you told him we weren't going to kill him."
 "Some things get lost in translation, for example, the words for 'idiot' and 'foreigner' sound almost identical–"
   "Tell him I'm disappointed." 
Teresa was halfway through this translation when Dr. Smith kicked the Frenchman in the back of the knee, which, as anyone who has been kicked in the back of the knees will tell you, hurts like the devil.
The Frenchman collapsed.
 The poor man had hit his head on a lead pipe.
  Dr. Smith threw the lead pipe as far as he could, then removed the gun from the Frenchman's fingers.  He also removed the map from the Frenchman's makeshift table, and disappeared into the maze that is the Undercity.
 Teresa followed.
The Frenchman stirred…

-=Best Regards=-

-=-=-=-=-=-

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

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Advertising

As you may know, I enjoy creating advertisements for products of all sorts, and today I thought I would share a few of those with you.
I made all of these by myself using Adobe PhotoShop CS5, I hope you have as much fun viewing them as I did making them.  

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    If you enjoyed these, please spread the word via twitter!  There's a button up at the top of this post someplace. 

-=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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The C.W.A. of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode 60: The Ghost of Smith Manor

Last Week As You Recall…
 Deep In the undercity of Legopolis…
  The french had our team of Legopolian border patrol officers trapped on all sides.

-=fig. 384: the undercity=-

    The under city {being a series of cellars and alleys that ran underneath the grand city of Legopolis} was the perfect target for this swarm of french rats.  They weren't actual rats, of course, but a team of highly trained french infantry soldiers.

The sound of wanton gunfire filled the air.
  As did the wanton gunfire.
"That's our last bullet captain." The worried man pulled back behind the makeshift barricade.
  They were trapped in what once may have been a garage but what was now the home of what looked to be an educated hobo.  It was closed in on two sides, but the other two sides were open, or, had been before the makeshift barricades.
  Capt. Brown was pensive.
  Capt. Brown smiled, wanly.

-=fig. 385: trapped like rats=-

"We've gotten out of worse than this, boys."
 No one mirrored his sentiment.

 -=-

Meanwhile back at No. 17 Ron Daveu Drive…

"Jeeves, all shields ahead full."
  "Aye Sir." 

Jeeves hurried away to complete his task.
    "Very nice house you have here." Said Teresa, recently rescued schoolteacher.
 "Yes." Said Dr. Smith, in a way which would suggest to the casual observer that he was scared out of his considerable wits by this woman.   It was not that she was particularly frightening, or even particularly beautiful, being an all-around average woman. The problem was more that Dr. Smith, a man of solitude, was being confronted by a situation for which he had no precedent.
 Teresa decided to take another stab at conversation.
  Being a schoolteacher she had experience with frightened children, and Dr. Smith was no different.  "My name's Teresa.  I'm a teacher. What's your name?"

"Dr. Smith. I'm a…" Dr. Smith frowned, he couldn't decide what he was.  He was definitely an inventor, but he was also a physician, and Doctor of science.
 The clock cukooed 2:00 P.M. breaking Dr. Smith out of his reverie of confusion.

-=fig. 386: cuckoo, cuckoo=-

Dr. smith watched the skeleton cuckoo, twice, and gave a little chuckle.
 "Teresa?"
   "Yes?"
     "Do you find skeletons…frightening?" 
      "No.  They're hilarious."

-=-

-=fig. 387: the skeleton room=-

Teresa laughed to herself.  "These are great!  Your house has a room for everything!"
  Dr. Smith nodded gleefully, this had been his observation as well.   He walked the row of skeletons, his boots crunching the snow.
  The room was freezing.
   He reached the final Skeleton in the line, but this one was different.
    HELLO DR. SMITH. 
     The words reached his brain directly, without bothering to go through his ears.   The final skeleton was dressed in a long black coat, a wide-brimmed black fedora, and was drinking tea from a yellow cup.
    A yellow cup with carefree daisies on it.
    The steam rose gently in the frigid air.
     DON'T PANIC.
 The words slid into place like the lid of a coffin, A giant, stone coffin, one as old as time.
  HELLO, MS. PHILLIPS.
Teresa had wandered down the line until she stood just to the right of Dr. Smith. 
  "Who are you then?"  She said.

-=fig. 388: DEATH=-

DEATH.  THE GRIM REAPER. THE FINAL SKELETON.  I HAVE MANY NAMES.
 "What are you doing here?" said Dr. Smith, finally regaining control of himself.
 AS YOU MAY KNOW, THIS IS MY BUSY SEASON–
 "Summer?"
  WAR.
  "Ah."
 AND I DECIDED TO STOP OFF HERE FOR REFRESHMENTS.  I AM SORRY TO SAY THAT I HAVE EATEN ALL OF YOUR BACON. I APOLOGIZE. THANK YOU FOR THE TEA.
He dropped the teacup, which vanished halfway to the ground.
  "But why me? Why stop here?" said Dr. Smith,
ALL QUESTIONS WILL BE ANSWERED, IN TIME.  THE CAPTAIN REQUIRES YOUR ASSISTANCE.
Death smiled, and vanished.

-=Best Regards=-

-=-=-=-=-=-

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

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 -=-

iPhone New Wallpaper

Unsatisfied with the Default iOS4 wallpapers, I made my own.
 Tap once to view full-size, tap-and-hold then press 'save image' to save it to your iOS device.

-=Best Regards=-

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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

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 -=-

The C.W.A. of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode 59: Mr. Bones

Last week as you recall, Dr. Zachary Smith, Capt. James brown, and Charles were hiding in Dr. Smith's spatially impossible house.
 The sound of bombs thundered outside.
  Dr. Smith ran to the door, Capt. Brown wasn't far behind.

-=fig. 382: the parade of refugees=-

"GET IN HERE!" Dr. Smith yelled to children running by.  Their leader, a school teacher by the looks of her, herded them in.
 Once safely in the kitchen the children started to complain loudly, of their stomachs, their feet, their asthma, as large groups of children are apt to do when gathered together.
 "JEEVES!" Dr. Smith yelled over the noise.
 "Right here Sir." Jeeves tried to push his way through the tangle of waist-high bodies, but it was no use. 
 "GOOD! STAY THERE JEEVES, ALL I NEED YOU TO DO IS GET THE KIDS THROUGH THE RED DOOR–"
   This was interrupted by an ear-piercing whistle from the teacher, which itself was followed by silence.
 Pure silence.
   The teacher, a medium-height woman with long brown hair and a leather jacket turned to Dr. Smith and said: "You. In the gray coat. I really have no idea who you are but this seems to be your house.  We can't all stay in the kitchen because there's too many of us, so where are we going?"
 "The…Erm…uh…" Said Dr. Smith, at a loss for words.
   "Through the red door miss." Said Jeeves, A robot unaffected by feminine charms.
    "Thank you…?"
      "Jeeves, miss.  I must warn you, miss, that the red door leads to a maze of corridors and bedroom suites, take any colour door you wish, but remember the red one will always lead you back here."
  The teacher herded her flock into the red door, imparting the rules of the labyrinth unto them as she did so.
  Once the Red door was safely closed behind the group, Capt. Brown clapped Dr. Smith on the back.  "Well, she took the whole 'bigger on the inside' thing rather well I think."   It was only then that Dr. Smith regained control of his mouth.  
 "I think I stopped breathing.  In fact, I'm sure I stopped breathing."
  Capt. Brown gave a guffaw, straight from the belly.  "You were terrified!  I've seen you face death without emotion!  Some girl tries to ask for directions out of your kitchen and you freeze up like a…frozen thing!"
 "She'll be coming back! What do I do?"
   "Relax, look her in the eyes, and listen.  Remember, Don't Panic."
    Dr. Smith took a deep breath.
"Alright Jeeves, what is it."
   Jeeves stopped waving his arm in the air, "Sir, We are missing all of our bacon."
  Dr Smith looked him in the slightly glowing eyes, and asked: "Did you feed it to the skeleton?"
  "No, Sir."
    "How do you know that its missing?"
      "Sir, I keep a barrel of salted and peppered bacon in the larder, and two packages in the icebox, all of which are missing."
         "So we have a tea-drinking bacon-eating ghost on the loose?"
           "It would appear so Sir although ectoplasmic apparitions are highly unlikely."
  It was then that a cryptic message crackled in form a radio hidden somewhere about Capt. Brown's person: "…FG to CB, H1 H2 H3 K39 439."  Capt. Brown fished his coat off its hook and grabbed his hat from the table. "Zachary, it seems they need me at the forward front.  Is it alright if we use this house as a bomb shelter?"
   Dr. Smith nodded, "Yes.  I'm Pretty sure we have force fields."
        "Good.  Charles is staying here, keep whats-her-name and her wards safe, and don't panic, It's not as if she's a carnivorous beast.  Charles."  He gave a curt wave, and was out the door.

-=fig. 383: the forward front=-

"I'm glad you're here sir!"  The eager shako-wearing soldier said.  Capt. Brown grizzled warrior that he was, just looked dramatically into the sunset, formulating strategy.
 The french forces pushed the barricade, a red car, a foot closer.

-=-

Charles walked the perimiter of the kitchen quietly.
 Well, as quietly as a ton of ogre can.
  "Mr. Doctor?"
    "Yes Charles?"
     "If its any consolation, she scares the living daylights out of me too."
      "Charles, did you throw that man, shot-put style, to expedite our escape from the french?"
        "That I did Mr. Doctor."
   Dr. Smith sized up Charles, he was twice as big as a normal man, and four times as wide.  He can throw someone, one-armed more than a hundred feet, and he was scared living-daylights free by Dr. Smith's latest house guest.

-=Best Regards=-

-=-=-=-=-=-

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

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 -=-

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=-

-=-=-=-=-=-

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

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 -=-

*POSTSCRIPT:

   To their  defaults, not to explode again.

The C.W.A. of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode 57 Captured By the French

Last Week as you recall, Dr Zachary Smith  Had gotten himself {along with the intrepid Capt. James Brown Mayor of Legopolis} into a minor difficulty…

-=fig, 372: surrounded by the french=-

"Well Zachary," said Capt. Brown, as he tallied up hostile berets, "This is another fine mess.  Why is it I follow you on these things?"
 "My winning Personality?" Said Dr. Smith with a smile, though Capt. Brown couldn't see it.
  Capt. Brown considered, "No… That's not it."
   The chief Frenchman, A fearsome sort with a black beret, red beard and eyepatch seemed to get annoyed by this constant banter.
 "Tais-toi! Imbéciles! Vous allez me dire pourquoi vous êtes ici. Ou bien."  This caused raucous laughter from the assorted assassins.  As if in anticipation of the 'Ou bien.' appended to the end of the statement.
 Dr. Smith decided that this was the time to put an end to all this 'French' nonsense.   "I'm sorry, I can't understand a word that you're saying, perhaps you know a little Romanian, I speak that fluently."
  But of course, the Assassins, being French, spoke not a word of Leopolian.  Nor understood it, for as the great French poet once wrote: 'Toutes les langues que le français ne sont pas valeur de l'apprentissage.'
 He mainly wrote prose.
"L'idiot–"
  "That's Me!" Cried Capt. Brown,Very Nearly raising his hand, in the manner of a schoolboy who knows the answer.   To Dr. Smith he said; "That was my nickname, back in French prison.  Lidiot.  It means 'mayor'."
     Dr. Smith nodded, that seemed to fit with his meagre knowledge of the French.
  This charming Conversation was cut short by a flying Frenchman.
All eyes turned to watch his arced descent, which was all the distraction Dr. Smith and Capt. Brown needed to hasten their escape.  Dr. Smith jumped, then flattened himself to the ground, a technique which left several Frenchmen dead, killed by their trigger-happy fellows.
  Capt. Brown was already over a nearby small hillock, and accelerating. 
  Dr. Smith joined him.
  Their Progress was hampered when Dr. Smith ran into a stone wall.

-=fig. 373: stonewall=-

It certainly felt like a stone wall.
 "You alright there Mr. Doctor?" The British wall asked. "Sorry Sir, dint see you there.  You ran right into me fist, looks like it hurt a fair amount. "
  The stone wall reached way down and lifted Dr. Smith up by his suspenders, dusting him off in a friendly way.
 "Hello Charles." Dr. Smith slurred, the impact having scrambled his brains temporarily.
  "Hello Mr. O'Gre." Said Capt. Brown, walking in from off-screen in a nonchalant way.
   " 'ello Cap'n. It seems I've discombobulated Mr. Doctor here, and please Cap'n, It's Charles."
  "Well Charles, give him here, I'll take him.  He'll come 'round in a minute or so."
 Mr. Charles Wilhelm O'Gre, Gentleman and reformed ogre handed Dr. Smith over in the most delicate way possible with hands the size of watermelons.  Charles was as tall as two men, and as wide as four.  With hundreds of teeth, in rows like a shark, but sparkling clean and smelling slightly of mint.  And to top it all off, a charmingly askew Top Hat, almost tall enough to rest on his head while still hiding most of his Horn.   
  Dr. Smith sat up from the worryingly sharp bit of ground where Capt. Brown had carelessly dumped him.
  His eyes looked fractured, one half larger than the other, but it was just his glasses.
 He fished a new pair out of his suitcase.
 He Blinked twice, adjusting his eyes to the new Spectacles, and {still sitting on the ground} pointed an arm at Charles. "Next Time I'm passed out, Charles, don't hand me to him." He gestured towards Capt. Brown, "Broken shale, that's what I landed on. And it hurt.   I'm quite surprised I'm not bleeding all over."
 "However Zachary,"  Said Capt. Brown with a bemused expression, "It appears that you are not bleeding and we need to get going as that," He pointed "Is the french army."   This was punctuated by a gunshot and a huge chunk of tree worryingly near the trio quite suddenly disappearing.
 Before the newfound woodchips hit the ground, the trio was gone.
  "Don't worry Mr. Doctor and Cap'n, I gotcha."
    Charles sped through the forest, surprisingly fast for a being of his weight, our two heroes tucked under his barrel-like arms.
This surprising turn of Speed was lost on the french army, as they had vehicles.
  Vehicles with automatic firearms. 

  "If we can lure them to my House, we'll be fine." Said Dr. Smith.
   Capt. Brown disagreed with this plan.  "Back to the city? Are you crazy?"
A missile, green and spinning, lodged itself in the ground.
  The explosoin rocked the earth.
   Capt. Brown looked at Dr. Smith, who was up-side down and bleeding from a gash along the forehead,  and said: "The City it is."

-=Best Regards=-

-=-=-=-=-=-

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

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