The C.W.A. of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode #67: Hostage

Tweet

Last Week as You Recall the lovely Ms. Phillips had been taken at knife-point by a desperate french leader who had infiltrated Dr. Smith's house in an effort to learn its secret…

-=fig. 412: hostage=-

"Now Dr. Smith, you will co-operate I think." The french leader said, in the thickest accent. "Call Off your robots of war and release my comrades."   

 Dr. Smith gave the command, and the Jeeves prototypes released the Frenchmen.

  Dr. Smith gave a heavy sigh, "What is it you want?" he asked, sadly. 

   The Chief Frenchman gave a triumphant "Ha!  I Want–" and collapsed.

-=fig. 413: sedated=-

"Jeeves!" Dr. Smith exclaimed, then swung a boot at the Frenchman, who was snoring.  "Why didn't you kill him?" 

 Jeeves carefully stowed the tranquilizer gun, and answered "I Have noticed that people who have been shot become stiff rather quickly, And I computed that Ms. Phillips' neck could not handle any…Stiffness.  On the other claw, people who have been 'tranquilized' become limp instantly."  

 Dr. Smith nodded glumly, looked down at the sleeping form and said "What are he going to do with the body?"   

   Capt. Brown chose this moment to speak up.   "We can't kill him, Zachary.  According to city code 375b, subsection c, 'if your assailant is incapacitated, he is no longer an assailant.'  Sorry Zachary."  

  "What about trespassers?" Dr. Smith asked, hopefully.

   "It's still murder." 

 Dr. Smith uttered a minor expletive. 

   "As a point of interest, what's the rest of 375b?"  Asked Teresa, rubbing her neck.  Capt. Brown shrugged, "Mainly restrictions on building permits.  I'm pretty sure the people who devised the codes just wrote them down as they thought of them, the city used to be a pretty ramshackle operation. "   

  Dr. Smith perked up, he had a thought.

   "Jeeves, Lock this man in a room until he becomes an assailant again."

     "Zachary, we have Jails."  Capt. Brown placed a consoling hand on Dr. Smiths shoulder, "But Enemies of The State usually get the death sentence. Although, of course that's up to a jury of regular people we've picked at random from the street outside the courthouse."

"Isn't it usually 'a jury of his peers'?" asked, Teresa.   Capt. Brown looked at her askance, "His peers are murders and thieves.  Frenchmen, who are invading the city as we speak. I would much prefer it that they were not involved in the court proceedings of this <REDACTED>"  You could tell from his tone that he was…prejudiced against the Unconscious Frenchman.  

  "What about his colleagues?" 

    "I suppose you might, but it would cause huge amounts of paperwork on my part.  Oh look, they've surrendered."   

    Indeed they had,

  Perhaps having seen their leader calmly taken out by man in evening wear who never blinks had unnerved them.

  Perhaps it was the Jeeves prototypes that had grabbed each and every one of them by the scruff of the neck on an unspoken order from Dr. Smith.

   "Take them to the jail, I suppose. " Dr. Smith seemed disappointed, no death to his enemies today.  

  "Buck up, 'pal', they are going into a war-zone."  This seemed to cheer Dr. Smith up.

 Somewhat. 

"What now?"  Asked Teresa.

  "English breakfast, I think.  Jeeves?" 

  "Very good Sir." 

  "Is it safe to come out?" Asked a small voice from the direction of the half-ship.

-=fig. 414: the brazen child=-

 "No!" Boomed Capt. Brown jovially, "But it never is.  Come out anyway."  He gave the brazen child a constituent-winning smile. 

-=-

-=fig. 415: dinner=-

"Why is the dead guy the only one with a special chair?" 

Dr. Smith leaned closer to the hapless child, so their conversation could not be overheard "It's where he died of asking stupid questions."

  The child didn't speak up again the entire meal.

-=Best Regards=-

-=-=-=-=-=-

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

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

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

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

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

-=-

The C.W.A. of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode #66: Children and Wooden Walls

Tweet

Last Week as You Recall…

 "Good to see you again Sir." Said Jeeves, Dr. Smith's robotic butler.  "There's Something I need to tell you, Sir." 

 "Later Jeeves." Dr. Smith said as he hauled his friend and Ms. Phillips out of the basement.   The hatch was surprisingly slippery.  

   Drool does that. 

 "Sir, It is really very Important." 

  "Alright Jeeves, what?" 

   "The French have breached the building." 

 Dr. Smith froze.  "How." 

   "One of the children let them in.  In his defense Sir, they really were very inciting, and I hadn't briefed the children on the 'Red White and Blue Menace', yet.  I even had an instructional film prepared."  Jeeves seemed fairly put out by the whole business, more so than the fact that his house had been annexed by The Enemy.

"Jeeves, Children don't watch–never mind.  Where are they?"

 "The Kitchen, Sir.  They don't trust the doors." 

   "How could they even know about that?"

    "No Idea, Sir." 

     "Well, I had better go welcome them."

-=fig. 407: annexed the kitchen=-

"Hello, French people." 

  "Bonjour, mon ennemi"

"Yes, I'm sure that you're very French.  Now, my first question is: How did you turn down the lights?" 

  The Frenchman in front, who looked to be in charge, said {In a heavy French Accent} "There was a switch."

   "Really?  I've been trying to turn down the lights for weeks, with no success, and you just walk in here and find the switch?" 

"It is our superior French minds."  He spoke as if Legopolian was his third language. 

As it happens, Legopolian is pretty much everyone's third language, behind French and Russian, the two biggest countries in the world.  "Enough chit-chattery.  We are here for one fact.  What is the secret of this house?"  He said it as if he were interrogating Dr. Smith, which,  considering the multiple weapons his colleagues were carrying, may not have been far from the truth.  

  "The secret?  Well, it bigger on the inside because of a pocket dimension I like to call–" 

    "We know about this.  This we figure out…instantaneously.  We want know is this:  Why do things just…appear?  And why?"

 Dr. Smith shrugged.  "Technically, that's two questions.  I Don't know the answers to either.  Sorry."   The Chief Frenchman did not take this well.

"You lie!  Shoot him!" 

-=fig. 408: whizzing by=-

Dr. Smith ducked behind the nearest cover, which happened to be his kitchen counter.

Worryingly large bullets whizzed past. 

  "DON'T BREAK ANYTHING!"   Yelled the Chief Frenchman, "We want this house alive!  It will make great headquarters of glorious  Révolution française!"  

 "Yes!  Stop Shooting!"  D. Smith scurried around the kitchen counter, if he could get to the table he could… and he was there.   He scrambled on top of the table.  There was a trumpet.

-=fig. 409: trumpet blues=-

Dr. Smith played the opening trumpet solo of 'Trumpet Blues'  as it turns out Dr. Smith was a quite accomplished trumpet player.  But that's not the reason he played it. 

'Trumpet Blues'  was a very chaotic song, but it did have its good points.  For example, being the activation code for the series of Failed Jeeves Prototypes which were lined up against one wall.

-=fig. 410: prototypes=-

Steam escaped from the robot's joints as it raised one arm, jerkily.   This particular model was powered by a miniature nuclear reaction and steam.   The reason it was abandoned was because its movements were not exactly fluid, or fast.  It took one step forward, and with one surprising upper-cut sent the Frenchman flying.

 "What trickery is this!"  The Chief Frenchman asked. 

  "Home Defense." Dr. Smith answered. " You didn't think I would leave my home unprotected, did you?" 

-=-

Capt. Brown and Teresa Phillips had been hiding behind the bow of a viking ship, which was just off the kitchen.

 There was no stern, it was half a viking ship inexplicably in Dr. Smith's kitchen. 

  "Do you think it's safe to come out?" Asked Teresa.

   "No.  But it's never 'safe' in this house. " Capt. Brown answered.  

     They broke cover. 

That was a mistake. 

-=fig. 411: hostage=-

"Call off the robots, or I slit her throat."

-=Best Regards=-

-=-=-=-=-=-

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

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

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

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

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

-=-

A Day Of Thrift-Shopping

Tweet

I Love thrift stores.

Today I got:

 1.  A very fine winter trench coat, 100% wool

2.  A barely used peach/off-white fedora {in my size, which is extremely rare.}

3. 1100 royalty free pictorial symbols, of the sort one might find on highway signs.  But for all sorts of tasks. 

4.  A huge book of the century's best advertising.

5.  A two disc set of the Fédora opera. That's 1:34:48 of Opera!

This opera is based on the 1880's play, which launched the fedora hat, as a women's hat first, but then as a Men's hat. 

I am super-excited about this!

It also includes this 241 page book, with a back-story on the play, how the opera came about, and translations of the Italian. 

Not bad for under $100.

-=Best Regards=-

-=-=-=-=-=-

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

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

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

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

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

-=-

The C.W.A. of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode #65: Basements and Bad Things

Tweet

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?" 

  "Bad Things."

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. 

   It Lunged.

 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." 

-=Best Regards=-

-=-=-=-=-=-

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

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

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

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

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

-=-

The C.W.A. of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode #64: Autumn

Tweet

Last Week as you recall… 

 There was the screams of three people, all falling from a great height,

 The crash of what turned out to be ceramic tile,

 And the squeal of failed metal lattice.

And then there was silence. 

-=fig. 398: a soft landing=-

Dr. Smith was the first to wake. 

  "AARRGH!" he said, for Dr. Smith falling from great heights, while not anything new, never got any less painful.

"ALRIGHT!  SO WHO ELSE IS ALIVE?"  Dr. Smith yelled, while wincing in pain.

  "What happened?"  Capt. Brown grumbled.

   "We fell through the sidewalk."  Teresa answered, straightening out her back with a grimace.   

     Capt. Brown nodded, this made sense. "Well…Legopolis is built on the shoddiest foundations I have ever seen.  The ranks of Captains before me did not care about safety, just profit.  I wouldn't be surprised if they had affixed that grating with bubblegum and made the tiles of rice paper if it saved them a dollar."  

  Dr. Smith stood, rubbing his head. "They made the tiles of ceramic, not any sort of paper…  Oh no, poor thing." 

  "I'm fine, just a little sewer-y." Teresa said, blushing slightly.

   "What?  No look at my hat!  It's ruined!"  It was ruined, crushed and completely soaked in the only well of clean water, it had lost its shape and most of its band, and was now a shadow of it's former glorious self.  

   "Oh." Teresa said quietly,  insulted that she was less important than a hat. 

 They were now again in the Undercity, the maze of tunnels and sewers that run underneath the grand City Of Legopolis, far above them a small light gleamed;  The hole they had caused and then fallen through.  Dr. Smith glared at the square of light, far above. 

-=fig. 399: far above=-

  "Thing is," He said, "we should have died.  Not that I'm looking a gifted horse in the mouth but the three stories we fell, plus however far down this is, we should be dead." 

 Capt. Brown was looking at the way they had come too, but his mind was filled with one thought;   

  "That's a public safety hazard."

  "It's a shaft is what it is. " Dr. Smith said. 

It was then that the room started filling with water.

-=-

Brigadier Black gave out a pirate yell. 

 Not only because of the all-over pain, but it was how always he always woke up.

-=fig. 400: brigadier black, former pirate=-

Brigadier Black stretched.  "AAARGH!" He yelled again, for no real reason.  As it turned out his ears were still in shock after the blast and he couldn't hear a thing.  He looked around for his team, and found most of them on an adjoining roof.   Most of the Legopolis City rooftop Police Department had landed safely, some had died, and the rest were hanging onto the sides of buildings with their hooks, waiting to be rescued.  Capt. Brown, Brigadier Black's immediate superior, Was nowhere to be seen.  It was then that Brigadier Black noticed that the Capitol Building, which he had been standing on not moments before, was riddled with holes and on fire.  Entrance was…impossible.  The Brigadier removed his cap in Capt. Brown's memory, recited a quick yet morbid traditional Irish poem, shed a small tear at it's poignancy, and assumed full control of the L.C.R.P.D.

  However, The Brigadier did not believe the Capt. Brown was dead for one second.

   Company Policy required a poem and a tear at the presumed death of an officer.

 Brigadier Black refused to believe that Capt. Brown was dead because he had a record of 'dying' on a semi-weekly basis, it always turned out that he was just missing.  Or damaged.  Permanently Scarred, that sort of thing.  

   The Brigadier, being deafened, didn't hear the French Plane. 

  It strafed the roof with a hood mounted rifle, and came around for another go. 

Brigadier Black Grabbed the nearest semi-automatic weapon he could find.

-=fig. 401: gun ho=-

The Plane wasn't going very fast, so it was easy to hit, and being a bi-plane it came apart once the support struts were gone.  It spiraled out of control and over the cliff {Legopolis, being built on a plateau, was circumscribed by cliffs} and disappeared into the low-level fog that surrounded the city.  Then it started to rain. 

-=-

Water poured in from the giant tubes at the sides of the tunnel, Dr. Smith with a bemused expression stuck his finger in the water as everyone scrambled for 'dry'  'ground' 

  Dr. Smith stuck his finger in his mouth, "Rain Water." He proclaimed. "Interesting.  All the rain-drains in the city must come to this spot.  No wonder there's a 'shaft' here, with all this water damage."

 It was then that he noticed it was up to his knees already.

  "Oh."  He said with surprise.

 "Get up here!" Teresa said, extending her hand. 

  "Thanks."  He said, clambering onto the fallen metal lattice. 

  "How did you know it's rain water?" 

  "It tastes different.  And it's raining."  

   They all looked up, it was in fact raining.  They hadn't noticed before, But now that they did it was obvious.   Conversation was all but impossible now because of all the noise.   Dr. Smith knew where they were.  It was now as obvious as the rain, "WE NEED TO GO THIRTY FEET THAT WAY!"  He yelled over the roar of the rain.

   Everyone looked at him.

 "THAT"S A SOLID WALL!"  Yelled Capt. Brown.

  "YES!  IT IS!"  Dr. Smith yelled back, "BUT THERE'S A HATCH RIGHT THERE!"   It was just Feet above Capt. Brown's Head, so he braced himself in the rapidly rising water, And Teresa {being the lightest} climbed on his shoulders.   She smelled of apricots. 

 Teresa wrangled at the hatch, it seemed to be rusted shut.  As it turns out, the hinges were quite a bit more rusted than was really necessary and the entire hatch came off in Teresa's hands. 

  The hatch coming off came as a surprise to all of them, and Teresa fell back, taking Capt. Brown with her.

    Dr. Smith wordlessly scaled the nine feet to the hatch and crawled through.
 It was quite a bit drier in the tunnel, but still wetter than one would hope for.   Dr. Smith walked thirty feet, then hung a sharp left.
  Then he remembered about his teammates.

-=-

They were treading water now, Teresa was hanging onto a smallish brown suitcase which was aiding her floatation quite a bit.  "COME ON!" Dr. Smith yelled at them, annoyed they were mucking about.  "THE CURRENT'S AGAINST US, ZACHARY"  Capt. Brown yelled.   The enormous water pressure had finally unblocked what ever was blocking the relief drains, and the water had reached an equilibrium, but the current was heading away from the hatch, at a speed roughly equal to the fastest swim either Capt. Brown or Teresa could do.  Dr. Smith sighed, but no one could hear him over the roar of the water.   "TOSS ME THE SUITCASE!" he yelled, Teresa did so, Dr. Smith rummaged in the Suitcase until he found what he was looking for.
  He tossed the long, thick rope the Capt. Brown, who caught it, grabbed Teresa's hand, and reeled them in, one-handed.

-=-

-=fig. 402: creepy door #1=-

"So…where are we?" asked Teresa,  They had reached their destination.

"My back door." Dr. Smith answered, surprised.  

 "Of course the creepy door belongs to you.  Why would I think otherwise?"  Teresa's voice was laced with irony and sarcasm, the two vocal inflections that Dr. Smith had never picked up on. 

  "Yeah isn't it great?" You could hear the joy in Dr. Smith's voice.

"Super." 

 

-=Best Regards=-

-=-=-=-=-=-

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

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

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

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

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

-=-

TEST!

This is a test of the RSS System, If this were an actual post, I would have something interesting to say. 

-=Best Regards=-

-=-=-=-=-=-

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

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

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

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

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

-=-

New URL

Attention!  This is important. 

 The Blog has changed its url to http://stcroiss.blogspot.com/

This should show up in your RSS feeds, but I'll leave a burner blog at the old address for those lost souls. 

-=Best Regards=-

-=-=-=-=-=-

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

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

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

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

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

 -=-

The C.W.A. of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode #63: Fierté Patriotique

A couple of Weeks ago, as you recall…

-=-

This Was the big day, they one they had all been waiting for.

The Little explosive awaited eagerly in the little wooden box, awaiting some excitement. 

  Finally.

Up till now The Little Explosives short life had been increasingly dull, one tedium after another.

Today promised excitement, today was the day.  Every other explosive in the box was envious of The Little Explosive's luck, hand-picked for a special mission.  

  A flight in an æroplane!  

The Little Explosive was flung, not unkindly, off the starboard bow of the æroplane.

  A chance for ærobatic manœvering!

-=fig. 394: the little explosive finds its purpose=-

A chance gust of sympathetic wind helped The Little Explosive in it's final maœvering.

  My, the Ground is getting close…I wonder if I have a parachute…
By the time The Little Explosive realized what was happening, it was much too late.

-=-

The Explosion rocked the capitol building, it not only rocked it but exploded several parts of it as well.  

  This would not have been much of a problem if The Illustrious Captain James Brown, mayor of Legopolis, had not been on the roof at that exact moment.

  Dr. Zachary Smith was also there, along with the majority of the L.C.R.P.D, {Legopolis City Rooftop Police Department} and assorted members of the Legopolis City Border patrol.

-=-

Dr. Smith woke in a room on fire.   These looked to be the mayoral chambers, you could tell by the ornate woodwork.   In fact, the whole room seemed to be made of wood, which in retrospect may not have been the best of ideas.  The last thing Dr. Smith remembered before waking up here was being on the roof, enjoying the scenery.
  It occurred to Dr. Smith that they might have been the subjects of a bombing.
  Over the roar of burning timber, Dr. Smith could hear two distinct cries for help, the deep, basso voce "HELP!" of Capt. Brown, and the higher-pitched, mezzo-soprano "HEEELP!"  Of Teresa Phillips.  Dr. Smith decided to help Teresa first, because if Capt. Brown was calling for help it would require at least two people to get him out.
 She was trapped under an unburnt log.
  "Hello.  Is the log crushing you?"  Dr. Smith asked, with as much worry as he could muster.
    "No, just pinning me down.  What happened?"
     "We were bombed.  I'll lift and you get out from under it.  On 3."
Dr. Smith lifted, and Teresa wriggled out.

-=fig. 394: the mayoral chambers=-

Dr. Smith called out for Capt. Brown "JAMES!  WHERE ARE YOU?"  There was a faint scrabbling, a crash, and a much more distinct "HELP!"  From Capt. Brown,  and now that Dr. Smith was paying attention, he could tell where it was coming from.   "Ms. Phillips, Get down."   Teresa, wondering why, carefully laid down on the sooty floor.  Dr. Smith picked up a hefty-looking chunk of wood and threw it forcefully at the window in the corner,  he then flung himself to the ground and narrowly missed the fireball that was caused by the sudden influx of flammable air.
 The room was now burning faster, and they needed to escape.
 Dr. Smith led Teresa to the newly-opened window, and he leaned out.

-=fig. 395: just hanging=-

  "Hi James!"  Dr. Smith yelled amiably to the dangling brown figure,
  "ZACHARY!"  Capt. Brown didn't yell this with the mellifluous tone reserved for old friends, but instead with the urgent tone of a man dangling three stories above concrete tile.   "Alright Zachary, I need you to get me down, Zachary, got it Zachary?"
 Something occurred to Dr. Smith,
"You know, you're using my name an awful lot, James."
"Because It's very important that you listen to me , Zachary.  Buddy."
"Don't worry James, I'll get you down."  Dr. Smith thought for a second,  "You know James, I really don't know how to get you down.  But don't panic.  James, you're captain of the rooftop police, Don't you have…Procedures for this?"
  "The Building's on fire, I can't get in through any of the windows and my hand hold is slippery due…to birds.  So NO!"  Capt. Brown seemed to be getting angry, so Dr. Smith ducked back inside.  Teresa reminded him that their table was the only thing not on fire.
  Dr. Smith ducked back outside.   "You just Keep…'Hanging In There', James."  Dr. Smith chuckled privately at his weak pun.   "Ms. Phillips, Would you care to join me on the balcony?"

-=fig. 396: the balcony=-

 "This isn't a good idea."  Teresa said as the half-table wobbled.
 "Would you rather we got roasted in a wooden wood-fire oven?" Dr. Smith snapped, he didn't like having holes poked in his plans.  "Now James, just find a handhold and lower yourself down, Teresa will…try to catch you if you fall. 
 "There are no handholds, Zachary.  I designed the building like this on purpose, to protect me from assassination.  'Dangerous to climb down, Impossible to climb up.' That was my motto, back when I had a real job." If was then that the increasingly slippery ornamental statuette 'gave up the ghost.'
   Capt. Brown fell, but as he fell he managed to hit Teresa, and the combined weight of both of them shot Dr. Smith up in the air, for he was the only counter-weight at the other side of this see-saw,  not by design but by the fact that he hadn't found any unburnt wood to counter-balance the situation.   It turns out there wasn't much air to be shot into, and Dr. Smith smacked into the ceiling.
  Teresa and Capt. Brown had quite suddenly found them selves falling to the tile below.
  Dr. Smith smacking into the ceiling had weakened the structure past where it could sustain itself, and the upper floor came crashing into the floor where Dr. Smith was sitting.  Dr. Smith saw this happening, and did the only thing he could:

-=fig. 397: jump=-

-=Best Regards=-

-=-=-=-=-=-

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

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

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

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

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

 -=-