Bang.
“Really?” Capt. Brown said. “Really? Come on, Karl, I'm twelve feet in front of you and you miss? This is why you'll always be number three.”
Karl fired again and missed again.
“Have you seen this room?” Capt. Brown accused, “It is covered in wood panelling. Do you know how hard it is to fill in bullet holes through wood? And it never looks right. Tell you what,” He stood real still and spread out his arms “If you are going to keep shooting, please, hit me. I can deal with that. What I can't deal with is wood putty.”
Karl took aim, Finally, his chance to be the mayor…forever!
 |
| -=fig. 674: karl the marksman=- |
And the bullet bounced off.
“You forgot your training.” Capt. Brown said, “ ‘Rule 14: Always shoot them in the head. Not the Torso.’ Come on, It's on the first page.”
“But…How?” Was all Karl could manage.
“I forget what it's called, Dr. Smith isn't very good at names,” He undid his top two buttons and reached into his shirt, pulling out a shimmery white fabric “But it's this super thin fabric that repels bullets and breathes. I had him make me an undershirt out of it. They're going to be standard issue next year and you would know this if you came to the staff meetings.”
By now Capt. Brown was really quite close to Karl, close enough, in fact, to disarm him and beat him about the head.
“That's what you get for messing with the mayor. I am in a hurry today, But If I weren't…”
-=-
“Where've you been?” Dr. Smith asked.
“I told you. Doin’ Stuff.” Capt. Brown replied cagily.
“Hey, James, I need to tell you something,—”
“PLACES” Shouted Otto.
-=-
Dr. Smith loked over the edge of the balcony. “You sure this is safe?” He said.
“Of course.” Replied Otto.
“Shouldn't we have…Safety harnesses or—”
“ROLL SOUND, ROLL TAPE”
 |
| -=fig. 675: film=- |
“C’mon Zachary before Von–”
“But I am already here!” said Von TipRău, waving a black, hooded-gun thing.
“Psst, Zachary, what is that?”
“It's a specialised tool I made, ” He said “For when you want a hammer with a bit more…kick. But how did he–”
“Enough Vhispering, so you thought zat you could get avay? Hmm? Vell you caunt! Take ziss!”
“Wha–”
BAM!
“ZACHARY!” Capt. Brown yelled. Dr. Smith had fallen a story onto tile, Capt. Brown Slid down the rope he was supposed to be escaping on, running to his friend’s side. “Are you okay?” He asked.
“Of course I am.” Dr. Smith answered. “Takes a bit more than that to kill or even seriously injure me. Just give me a minute. But what I wanted to tell you is that that–” He pointed at Von TipRău, who was hamming it up with a dramatic laugh. “Is either the real Von TipRău or a clone, either way he's dangerous. Kill it.”
“But he said his name was Ludwig–and he was lying. Got it.”
Capt. Brown disregarded the rope and climbed the wall. It was way more intimidating, besides, he was quite tall so the wall wasn't actually too much of a hurdle.
“CUT!” Said Otto, “That's good. Looked good? Good. That's all for today–WHY ARE YOU SHOOTING!”
Capt. Brown missed Von TipRău again. “STOP YELLING!” He said.
Von TipRău was proving to be quicker than he looked. He ducked back inside, Capt. Brown followed.
RATTA TATTA TATTA TAT!
“STOP SHOOTING AT ME I HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING!” He swung around the staircase and ran up it.
Capt. Brown knew where that staircase got out. He smiled.
His heart felt like it was going to give out. He had no idea why the madman was trying to kill him and he wasn't going to stick around to find out. This trip to the future had not been working out like he hoped, first, the future turns out to be a lot like the present, not one flying car, then a tramp steals all his money and clothes leaving him with only this cheesy dollar-store dinner outfit, then a vampire traps him in a boxcar for a week, promising paying work, then Dr. Smith and his madman shoot at him, he never gets paid and it's all the fault of that Dr. Smith! Who by the way keeps calling him the name of his character, and accusing him of terrible things. And then he sicks his mad henchman on Ludwig just because he followed the vampires orders? No. It's all Dr. Smith's fault. He wouldn't be here if Dr. Smith hadn’t…wasn’t…wait. If he went back in time and killed Dr. Smith…none of this would have happened. He would be free! Free! He reached into the cheesy jacket and pulled out a tiny machine.
It lit up.
“Yes Mr. Monoid?”
“This door, that you made, Could it transport you between two points in this world?”
“Yes. Easily.”
“Beats the bus.”
“I have already filed the incorporation papers for a company that does just that, Just think Mr. Monoid, one of these in every home, on every street corner. We'll make a fortune.”
“Sounds great, boss, but what will we call this company?”
“I named it after a favourite greek phrase of mine, ‘Dues ex Machina’ It means ‘God out of a Machine’ And that's what we'll be, gods. Because of this machine. Speaking of the machine, have this one decommissioned. It appears and disappears far too randomly.”
“Of course, Boss.”
“I mean, you just close the door and–It's gone. Ah, well, forget about it. In the mean time Monoid, find me a man, actually, he's probably a boy, by the name of Smith. Zachary Smith.”
¹In romanian.
“But I am already here!” said Von TipRău, waving a black, hooded-gun thing.
“Psst, Zachary, what is that?”
“It's a specialised tool I made, ” He said “For when you want a hammer with a bit more…kick. But how did he–”
“Enough Vhispering, so you thought zat you could get avay? Hmm? Vell you caunt! Take ziss!”
“Wha–”
BAM!
 |
| -=fig. 676: fallen hat=- |
“ZACHARY!” Capt. Brown yelled. Dr. Smith had fallen a story onto tile, Capt. Brown Slid down the rope he was supposed to be escaping on, running to his friend’s side. “Are you okay?” He asked.
“Of course I am.” Dr. Smith answered. “Takes a bit more than that to kill or even seriously injure me. Just give me a minute. But what I wanted to tell you is that that–” He pointed at Von TipRău, who was hamming it up with a dramatic laugh. “Is either the real Von TipRău or a clone, either way he's dangerous. Kill it.”
“But he said his name was Ludwig–and he was lying. Got it.”
Capt. Brown disregarded the rope and climbed the wall. It was way more intimidating, besides, he was quite tall so the wall wasn't actually too much of a hurdle.
“CUT!” Said Otto, “That's good. Looked good? Good. That's all for today–WHY ARE YOU SHOOTING!”
Capt. Brown missed Von TipRău again. “STOP YELLING!” He said.
Von TipRău was proving to be quicker than he looked. He ducked back inside, Capt. Brown followed.
RATTA TATTA TATTA TAT!
“STOP SHOOTING AT ME I HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING!” He swung around the staircase and ran up it.
Capt. Brown knew where that staircase got out. He smiled.
-=-
Ludwig Aufenstein leaned against the door to the roof. His heart felt like it was going to give out. He had no idea why the madman was trying to kill him and he wasn't going to stick around to find out. This trip to the future had not been working out like he hoped, first, the future turns out to be a lot like the present, not one flying car, then a tramp steals all his money and clothes leaving him with only this cheesy dollar-store dinner outfit, then a vampire traps him in a boxcar for a week, promising paying work, then Dr. Smith and his madman shoot at him, he never gets paid and it's all the fault of that Dr. Smith! Who by the way keeps calling him the name of his character, and accusing him of terrible things. And then he sicks his mad henchman on Ludwig just because he followed the vampires orders? No. It's all Dr. Smith's fault. He wouldn't be here if Dr. Smith hadn’t…wasn’t…wait. If he went back in time and killed Dr. Smith…none of this would have happened. He would be free! Free! He reached into the cheesy jacket and pulled out a tiny machine.
It lit up.
-=-
Capt. Brown kicked down the door. BANG BANG BANG! “Die, Von TipRău! DIE!”
But Von TipRău was missing.
He couldn't possibly have gone anywhere else, there hadn't been time.
-=fifteen years ago=-
Ludwig Aufenstein cheered. They would make him a count for this.
He had discovered a space between spaces!
This was a huge scientific discovery!
 |
| -=fig. 677: rlbs=- |
And the perfect spot from which to make that Dr. Smith pay dearly for what he had done. The time machine would never work again, but that didn't matter, now.
“Say, Boss,” Said Ludwig Aufenstein's assistant. ¹“Yes Mr. Monoid?”
“This door, that you made, Could it transport you between two points in this world?”
“Yes. Easily.”
“Beats the bus.”
“I have already filed the incorporation papers for a company that does just that, Just think Mr. Monoid, one of these in every home, on every street corner. We'll make a fortune.”
“Sounds great, boss, but what will we call this company?”
“I named it after a favourite greek phrase of mine, ‘Dues ex Machina’ It means ‘God out of a Machine’ And that's what we'll be, gods. Because of this machine. Speaking of the machine, have this one decommissioned. It appears and disappears far too randomly.”
“Of course, Boss.”
“I mean, you just close the door and–It's gone. Ah, well, forget about it. In the mean time Monoid, find me a man, actually, he's probably a boy, by the name of Smith. Zachary Smith.”
¹In romanian.
