The C.W.A. of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode #71: Mafia Morticians

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Last week, as you recall…

Dr. Smith awoke.

 There was a brief pause as Dr. Smith's mind wandered in, finished its sandwich, and turned on the lights.

Dr. Smith was in a small, dark space.

 It smelled of earth and pine. 

-=fig. 527: sleeping wid' da' woims=-

Dr. Smith's first thought was of his hat, it was gone.

 Dr. Smith's second thought was along the lines of 'OW!'

His body hurt all over.  And it was cold in this small, dark space. 

   Dr. Smith's third thought was that he was buried alive.

Again.

   Dr. Smith felt for his suitcase, maybe it had something he could use, but it too was gone. 

 Dr. Smith wondered if it was something he had said to the Johnsson's that had made the big one hit him.  People were so hard to figure.  Machines on the other hand, were easy.

Dr. Smith's fourth thought was along the lines of 'Why is is so bright?'   If Dr. Smith were indeed deep underground, it would not be merely 'dark', it would be pitch black. 

 Also, DEATH was nowhere to be seen. 

  Dr. Smith was feeling pretty good, maybe they hadn't buried him!

  Maybe they hadn't gotten around to putting the cheap coffin in the ground! 

   Dr. Smith opened the cheap coffin's lid, feeling alive. 

 HELLO DR. SMITH. 

-=fig. 528: limbo=-

"Hello again Death, tell me, am I dead?" 

  "ONLY MOSTLY."

   "Good, I challenge you to a game." 

    "AGAIN?"

     "I win, I become 100% Not Dead, You win, I die.  What do you say?"

       "ALRIGHT.  THE RULES STATE YOU MAY CHALLENGE ME TO A GAME OF YOUR CHOOSING. CHOOSE ANYTHING BUT 'GLOBAL THERMONUCLEAR WAR.' "

         "I choose Chess."

          "A POPULAR CHOICE. START: <<CHESS>>"

The World Moved. 

Dr. Smith fell.

-=fig. 529: the board=-

    Dr. Smith let out a sharp groan as his head hit the marble. 

"THIS IS THE BOARD.  YOU MOVE FIRST."

The world moved again, and Dr. Smith was in the King's spot. 

-=fig. 530: the pieces=-

To Dr. Smith's right was Ms. Teresa Phillips,presumably playing the part of the queen. 

 To Dr. Smith's left was a policeman, being a bishop.  

 "You never said anything about Life-Size chess!"  Dr. Smith objected, 

  "YOU NEVER SPECIFIED.  YOU MERELY CHOSE 'CHESS.' YOUR CHOICE IS OVER. THE GAME BEGINS.  YOUR MOVE."  

  "Alright.  Erm, Pawn to E4." It was a fairly common opening, he knew, but it was a safe one.

DEATH countered with a pawn to D6.  DEATH's pawns were…Monoids. 

  "So, Death, how did you decide on monoids for your pawns?" 

     "THEY WERE FLOATING AROUND IN YOUR MIND.  THEY SEEMED SUITABLE."

 Without really paying attention, Dr. Smith said "Pawn to E5.  What do you mean 'Floating around in my mind?" 

   "PAWN TO E5."

  The Monoid moved to the square currently occupied by Dr. Smith's solider.

    The Monoid Pushed, the solider lost his ballance and fell out of the square. 

-=fig. 531: pawn to e5=-

"NO!" Yelled Dr. Smith, the solider yelled as well. 

Actually, It was more of a blood-curdling scream. 

 Dr. Smith made as if to help his pawn, but he was fenced in on all sides by invisible walls, keeping him from moving from his square. 

The Monoid calmly  took the pawns place. 

 "NOW IT IS YOUR TURN." 

  "What do you mean 'now its my turn'!  Where has that soldier gone!" 

  "AWAY.  THEY ARE MERELY CHESS PIECES, DOCTOR. WE ARE PLAYING FOR YOUR LIFE, NOT THEIRS."

 Dr. Smith swallowed the lump in his throat. 

This game was going to be harder than he had originally planned on.  

-=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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We Gotcher Icons Right 'ere

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Art Deco Icons Vol. 1

Contains Over 39 Icons!
all in the simple round style I enjoy!
Contains a nice wooden dock!
Built from a the finest mahogany! {Texture From Here: [link]}
Contains a striped Wallpaper!
Textured to perfection!
Contains Several Icons which you will never find a use for!
And doesn't include some you wish it did!

TECH SPECS:
To implement these properly you'll need CandyBar {Free: [link] }
But if you don't want CandyBar or have a PC, these will still work. I Have included both the PNG's and straight folders of every icon provided along with a blank .PSD file for those DIY types among you.
Not a DIY-type but find one Missing?
Leave a comment and I'll release a supplement later.
NOTICE:
Supplement has been released, and is available at this link: [link]

Art Deco Icons, Volume 2

This premium set of deluxe icons is meant to supplement my previous set {[link]}
Which after using it for awhile I realized was severely lacking.
Included:
Over 29 Icons!
{Also, folders and .PNG's}
Of many common applications, such as safari, and Adobe Illustrator!
Pride of ownership of these fine, free icons!
Nothing else!
{For more, see the Vol. 1, It includes a dock, wallpaper, and a blank .PSD for you DIY types.}

-Jacob

Art Deco Icons, Volume Blue

New Hits!
Old Favorites!
This set includes one shiny new dock, striped, and all previous icons in a pretty new blue.
Winter is right around the corner, get ahead of the rush with these fancy new icons!
Included:
Al Previous Icons, plus some new ones, in PNG, Straight folder, & iContainer
One Fancy new dock
A beautiful new wallpaper, featuring snow!
Requirements:
Mac {CandyBar} or PC.

All Image subtitles link to the Icon's DeviantART Page,
There's a download link there, off to the right.

-=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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A Swedish Folk Song

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This is a prime example of a swedish folk song, 

It doesn't really rhyme. 

-=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 #70: Agricultural Significance

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Last Week, as you recall, 

   Dr. Smith had figured it out, and this alley was the fastest way there.  

   If only it weren't the Seedy Alley.   Legopolis, being an immensely small city, had room for only one seedy alley. 

   But it was a good 'un.

"Shtickum up, Mack. "  Said a voice from Behind Dr. Smith. 

-=fig. 524: hood=-

Dr. Smith let out a small sigh,  "Sir.  Two things, One: My name is not 'Mack', and Two:"  If you had blinked you would have missed it.   It was a beautiful display of gymnastic skill, and It was over in a second. "Two: Guns have a minimum operating distance.  Namely arms length." 

 As the hood lay writhing on the ground, Dr. Smith carefully stowed the Hood's weapon in his suitcase, in the special 'Muggers Weapons' pocket.  There were quite a few of them. 

 "How'd you do that? Arrgh my body…" 

   "I was forced into ballet lessons as a child.  They said I needed out of the house." Dr. Smith said this deadpan, which he would, after years of being teased about it.   But it was worth it.  "I'll take your ill-gotten spoils now."

  "By the Great Jacob!  The pain!  Fine! Take my money…ARGHOoo!"

    "Consider yourself lucky, hood, I could just as easily have killed you.  This way you'll only have a permanent limp.  You may even, one day, with luck, reproduce.  I would suggest a change in career, and fast.  I'll be coming back this way later."

-=-

-=fig. 525: family farm=-

The Johnsson Bros. kept a nice litle farm behind the pizzeria. The pizzeria was the real source of income, the farm was just for…Fun.  

  They always had plenty of six-foot deep holes handy, just in case of…gardening.

Dr. Smith opened the door of the pizzeria, causing one of those annoying synthesized 'bells' to go off.  Dr. Smith cringed.

"We're 'round back." Called a heavy Brooklyn accent from the back.  

Dr. Smith made his way to the back of the shop, there was a door, ajar.

 "Hello?  I'm looking for some groceries." 

  "Den youse come to da right place.  Whatchoo lookin' for? "

   Dr. Smith consulted his list. 

David 'Goliath' Johnsson stood up. 

   Dr. smith considered himself taller than average, 'Goliath' was taller. 

-=fig. 526: goliath=-

  

"I…um.  Er, uh. Here." He handed 'Goliath' Johnsson the list. 

   "Dis writin' be too tiny for me.  I'll get me brutha."  He stomped off. 

    When he returned he was practically dragging another man, who was much smaller, but who had that shrewd look about him, like a man who knows a sucker when he sees one.   

  Luckily Dr. Smith had perfected the art of looking like a sucker without actually being one.

The new man gave Dr. Smith a firm handshake and looked him square in the eye. 

  It was then that Dr. Smith knew he was dealing with a con man. 

  "What can I do for you Friend?"  The con man smiled. 

   "I'm not your friend.  My name is Dr. Smith. You're giant friend has my list, I would like the items on it."  

      "The name's Stan, and I hope we'll be friends real soon.  David, hand over the man's list." 

   As Stan perused the list,  Dr. Smith Expressed his condolences. 

      "Your father's dead." 

   Stan and 'Goliath' froze, "What?"  "Is dis yer idea o' a joke?" they both said, respectively and simultaneously.

    "I don't joke.   It happened two hours ago, heart attack after the looting of his store.  Would you like to know his last words?" 

       "OF COURSE!"  "YEAH!"

   "Alright, they were; 'tell my boys, they ain't won yet.' " 

  The two Johnsson boys shared a look, and on a sharp nod from Stan 'Goliath' helped Dr. Smith to sleep.

-=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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AARGH

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I Love "Talk Like A Pirate Day"!

 Best Holiday of the year, or at least the month. 

I Apologize for the Brightness of the photo, but that was the only exposure the black suit would show up in.  

  Any thing less than that and I was merely a shadow, lurking without a form. 

 Mwah Ha ha ahahahahaha!

The jacket and vest are from two different thrift stores.  

  The pants are from some store named after a girl,  and the hat is this one: LINK

This is the perfect suit for skulking in the dim September evenings.

 Hee Hee. 

 

{Faces Have been obscured to protect my indemnity} 

-=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 #69: Covert Shops

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Last week as you recall, Dr. Smith had embarked on a dangerous journey taking him far and wide; Three, maybe four regulation city blocks.

-= fig. 520: the end of the possibility of sneakiness=-

But this was it. 

   The end of the possibility of sneakiness.

 He had to cross this street, main street.    There was no good way around it.  The problem was that Main street was swarming with the French, nefarious villains who had invaded the grand city of Legopolis just yesterday.  

   He was going to have to make a break for it. 

     He stowed his trademark glasses in their special case, and placed said case in the breast pocket of his jacket.    This was no time for him to be recognized.

       However, he kept his distinctive fedora, bow-tie, and tweed jacket, as removing these things for the purpose of a disguise would not occur to him. 

      He then adjusted his face to his best approximation of the expression the french thought they wore, and gave a war-like yell. 

     He charged. 

-=fig. 521: invisible=-

No one noticed him.

  They were all too focused on not shooting their colleagues in front of them.  A monumental task, by all standards. 

    Dr. Smith replaced his glasses on his face, moments before the wall hit him. 

-=-

Dr. Smith made mental note never to remove his glasses again, as he was blinder than a very blind thing without them.

  As he collected himself off the ground, he noticed the store that the wall that had run into him belonged to. 

 JOHNSSON & SONS 

 FINE GROCERYS

"Your local Grocery shop since May 1937"

  

From the outside it didn't look very good.   Oh, maybe it had once, but not now.  

  Inside was worse. 

-=fig. fig. 522: disarray=-

The place wasn't very big, but it was in complete disarray. 

  And It smelled terrible. 

  "Hello?"  Dr. Smith asked the air. 

    "They're good lads, really." came a voice from a corner.

     "Who's there?" Dr. Smith asked the corner. 

   The voice was short of breath, but had a faraway, wistful tone, as if remembering something fondly. "It's just that there comes a time in every young man's life when he has to go on a crime spree, littering, stealing an old man's life savings."   The old man hiding behind the counter sighed, deep in reminiscence.  Then coughed wildly.

  "What are you doing back there?" asked Dr. Smith, a tad worried now.

    The old man apparently didn't hear him.   "I've known these boys since they were just little tykes, you know.  Their mothers used to come here for child mush, bless their souls.  All dead now, O'course."   Dr. Smith picked his way carefully over to the counter. 

The old man wasn't moving. 

-=fig. 523: old man=-

"What's your name, sir?" Asked Dr. Smith, suddenly in bedside-manner mode. 

  The Old Man still refused to acknowledge Dr. Smith.  

   "I'm only telling you this, you know, because you have a face like a half- brick." 

     Dr. Smith took an educated 'shot-in-the-dark'  "Mr. Johnsson just relax, everything's going to be fine. " Dr. Smith was lying as fast as he could.  He knew Mr. Johnsson wouldn't last ten minutes.  

       "Straightforward, honest.  There's no fooling a half-brick.   No room for subtitles, either.  You're either concussed or you ain't. " Mr. Johnsson was either deaf to the world, or hallucinating.   Mr. Johnsson was wheezing now, And feebly clutching his chest.  "I know I'm already dead, son.  But you just tell my boys…" His voice lowered to a whisper. "They ain't won yet."  And he was gone.

   Dr. Smith removed  his hat, out of respect, and examined the body.   It was as his original diagnosis suspected, Mr. Johnsson had had a heart attack, probably caused by the excitement of the 'Good Lads' who had robbed the store.

 It was a miracle he had lasted this long.

   Dr. Smith produced a white sheet from his suitcase, and covered the body with it. 

    If Dr. Smith were a religious man, he would have said a prayer.  But he wasn't, so he didn't. 

Dr. Smith examined the store, but it was empty.  And what hadn't been taken had been spoiled.

He was going to have to find somewhere else to buy his groceries. 

  He consulted his list: 

LIST

1. bacon

2. chocolate cake

3. three apples

4. eight largish chicken pot pies.

5. a tomato  

6. nine chili peppers, {Small, Green, Wrinkled}

7. pizza

8. spaghetti

The children and Jeeves had assisted Dr. Smith in his list-making. 

  If it were up to him all the list would have stopped with bacon.  But there's not much you can do when a robot snatches a list out of your hands and takes votes on it's future contents.

After a moments thought, Dr. Smith realized he knew where to get items  3, 5, 6, and 7. 

 But this was going to take all day. 

 

-=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 #68: Dinner at the Smith's

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Last week as you recall, Dr. Smith had been tasked with the undesirable job of playing host at the feeding of what seemed to be hundreds of seven to nine year-old's. 

-=fig. 516: at the dinner table=-

Jeeves had scrounged up what he could, but the food supplies were mysteriously low.
This was odd, because the pantry seemed to go on forever.
 It's just that it was…empty. 
  Dr. Smith stood, knocking his chair over in the process.
"Attention." It wasn't the sort of weaselly 'attention's you get at say, town hall meetings, but more a…command.  But spoken without a commanding tone. As it turned out, it was quite effective.
  Cutlery clattered to the plates, some with food still attached.
Dr. Smith spoke;  
  "This is the last bit of food we have in the house.  With the City under siege, I don't know how easy it will be to acquire more.  There is always the tunnels, but I would rather not head back to the basement.  The streets are filled with the sort of men that had the house hostage, that is to say, Frenchmen, and there is no door on the roof, but I am willing to hear alternate modes of escape."   They all started talking at once. "Quiet!" Dr. Smith said, with an exclamation point, so that it was obvious that he was serious.  "One at a time.  Raise your hand."   Capt. Brown raised his hand, and, without waiting to be called on, continued. "What about that magical Door that can go anywhere?"
Dr. Smith had obviously thought of this, "Impossible to control, and it only works one way. Once you're there, you're there.  Next?"  A child raised his hand. "You seem smart, why not just invent something that kills all the bad guys and be done with it?"
  "The Closest thing I have ready is this bomb that uses atoms, it's effective, certainly, but it would kill us all.  Next."
     "We could fly out, there's no ceiling." 
       "There is, it's the ground wrapped around like a Möbius Strip.  Next."
   "Why not just use the back door?"
 Dr. Smith was about to dismiss this idea out of hand when he realized that it wasn't a half-bad idea.
  "What's your name, boy?"
    "Andrew, sir."

-=fig. 517: andrew=-

The boy was the Picture of Dr. Smith at that age, uncomfortable, quiet, and short.  He even had a little Bow-tie which no doubt never quite fit.
      "The sir is completely unwarranted."  Dr. Smith had taken a liking to the boy. 
"Alright, Sir."  Andrew said, glumly.  He was worried that he had offended Dr. Smith, somehow.   Rightly too, for Dr. Smith's default tone was that of irritation, not that Dr. Smith had noticed.
 Having just stolen Capt. Brown's food when he was distracted, Teresa had a question for Dr. Smith.  "Zacha–"  Dr. Smith interrupted her. "Dr. Smith"
   Teresa was confused.
  "He gets to call you by your name." She gestured at Capt. Brown.
   Dr. Smith replied. "He's my friend."
    Capt. Brown leaned toward Teresa conspiratorially, "He has a very defined sense of friend, I've known him almost his entire life, So I qualify.  Don't take it personally."
Teresa Shuddered to clear her head of the extreme sanity that was Dr. Smith's mind, and continued with her question. "Alright, regardless, my question is: Why can't we hear gunfire?"  She was of course referring to the bedlam that is main street Legopolis:

-=fig. 518: bedlam, with a side of mustard=-

"Because we're half a dimension away from anywhere.  I'm done eating." He hadn't touched his meal  "I'm going out, to see about more food. Goodbye."
 Teresa looked at Capt. Brown, "Is he always that brusque?"
  "Yes."

-=-

-=fig. 519: the back door=-

As much as Dr. Smith loved his house, he was glad to be out.
  He had never been good at…people.  Machines were better.
Machines didn't call you 'brusque' behind your back.
  The air was fresh, shame about the gunpowder smell.
From the other side of the house Dr. Smith could hear the traditional sounds of war, gunfire, screams of pain and…cheering?   There also seemed to be a man selling hot turkey legs and cups commemorating the big battle.
  Dr. Smith had to hand it to the street merchants of Legopolis, they were tenacious.
 Buying a hot turkey leg would put him too much in the open, although if bystanders were purchasing them how dangerous could it be?
    Then he re-thought that statement, in light of the screams.
     Besides, the grocery store was only a couple of blocks away.
Unfortunately, those couple of blocks were swarming with the worst sort of villains.
 Foreign Villains.
He would have to do it, secretly.

 

-=Best Regards=-

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

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

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

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

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