Tuesday, June 22, 2010

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.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
 -=-

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

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.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
 -=-
*POSTSCRIPT:
   To their  defaults, not to explode again.

Tuesday, June 08, 2010

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.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
 -=-

Friday, June 04, 2010

Test!

This is a Test Of my new "tweet this" Button. 
I hope that you Will enjoy it and use it often, reader.


-=Best Regards=-
-=-=-=-=-=-
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
 -=-

Tuesday, June 01, 2010

The C.W.A. of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode 56: National Emergency



 Last Week, As you recall…
   "Zachary, We're at war." Said Capt. James Brown of the Legopolis city rooftop police, as he calmly accepted a tall, cold glass of iced tea from Dr. Smith's robotic butler, Jeeves. 
    "With WHO?" Asked Dr. Smith, frantically.  His frantic attitude caused him to drop his bowl of SucrosePuffz™ onto the polished wood floor.
      "The French." Capt. Brown said calmly, watching the sugar-coated-sugar breakfast cereal eat through Dr. Smith's polished wood floor like Hydrochloric acid.  Which SucrosePuffz™, being one of the lower-quality breakfast cereals, probably contained.  
    Dr. Smith, oblivious to the corrosion happening inches from his left foot, worriedly scratched his right cheek, just below his ear.  An area which seemed to be growing a beard independent of the rest of his face.  "You're quite sure we're at war?  They aren't maybe…Tourists?" He said Tourists with an air of hopefulness, not being a huge fan of war.   
  Capt. Brown shook his head. "If they are tourists," He said "They are tourists at war with Legopolis, judging by the heavy artillery they are emptying into our border patrol officers."  Dr. Smith nodded sadly, tourists emptying heavy artillery into border patrol officers was a classic hallmark of war.
 It was then that Dr. Smith noticed the hole in his floor.
   "Maybe I'll just have…toast."
 -=-
    "What are we doing here?" Asked Capt. Brown, "This isn't even the side of the plateau they're attacking!"  
 Dr. Smith quickly shushed him,  "More quietly.  That's exactly what they want us to think." He whispered.  "OK, Now look over the edge…here." 
  Capt. Brown looked, and saw nothing. 
   "Oops, I forgot, this is an overhang, we'll have to climb down the face a bit to actually see them." 
 Capt. Brown rolled his eyes, but played along, knowing that Dr. Smith was usually right.

-=fig. 371: the french invasion of legopolis: climb=-
"You were right Zachary!" 
 "Of course I was right.  Wait, you doubted me?"
Capt. Brown saw that this was a moment to either change the subject or lie strategically.  He decided on both.
   "No, Zachary.  Of course not, keep your head down and your voice quiet in case they hear us."
     "Good plan James, nice strategic lie by the way."   The french invaders seemed to be controlled by the man standing on the platform in a black beret.  He called out to his troops: 
  "Vers le haut de la falaise, mes hommes! Ces mauviettes pensée va s'incliner devant la puissance de l'Empire français, et cette terre est encore la nôtre!" 
 "What did he say Zachary?"
   "Can't tell, he is either french or dreadfully diseased.  Either way, I can't understand a word he's saying."
      "You can't understand french?  But they're our biggest and most technologically advanced neighboring country,  French is taught in every school from Kindërgårten to college, even the street urchins speak french, and you don't?  What about all that time we were in France?"
  " If you recall, I was violently ill the entire time, they assumed I knew the language.  And every other moment was spent trying to keep you out of jail, so don't tell me you didn't pick something up." 
     "Mainly what I picked up was: " 'Au voleur!' 'Je le tenais pour…un ami?' And, the all-time favorite: 'Non coupable votre honneur. Honnête.'  But honestly, Zachary, that's it.  Nothing in the way of conversational french, you could say." 
        "All right, so we can't talk them down.  What about the army?"
         "I'm afraid the Legopolis city armed forces, in a joint effort with the Legopolis city rooftop police, are engaging the french army on the other side of the plateau."
           "Wait, that's everybody.  Must be one heck of an army the French have. You Know what this means?  We're on our own.  I'm kind of tired of being on our own.  But if we must, If only we had some weapo–" This was interrupted by Capt. Brown, who was suddenly and quite silently wielding two handguns, one in each hand. 
  "Two, James?  Isn't that a little…excessive?" 
    "Zachary, I Hate to tell you, but we're outnumbered.  Two-to-one.  What do you suggest?"
     "I suggest we watch them."
      "Watch them?"
        "Yes.  We can't move from this spot without them noticing, so we might as well see where they're going.  And besides, you can't kill them all in one go, even with your ambidextrous approach to gun-wielding." 
  -=-

-=fig. 371: the french invasion of legopolis: march=-

The French invaders sliced their way through the under-brush.  They were a silent bunch, silent but deadly.  These were the elite assassins of the french armed forces,  murderers, thieves. Some, worse than that, tax-collectors.  The hot august sun beat down on them from above, but the air was perfectly still.  Any insect that dared venture into that heat was instantly burnt.  But the french invaders retained their Berets, for a Frenchman, no matter how hot, will never abandon his Beret.
  Dr. Smith and Capt. Brown watched from the nearby bushes.
   "What are they doing now Zachary?"
    "Same thing as a few minutes ago, but now they seem to be doing it in the shade."
 Capt. Brown fanned himself with his hat.  Even with the soupçon of shade the bush they were hiding under provided, it was still singularly hot. "I don' t think this was such a good idea, if we had just killed them when we had the chance, instead of engaging in this espionage we wouldn't be subjected to this extraordinary heat!"
  Dr. Smith nodded, he agreed, of course.  But the heat didn't bother him in the least due to his patented TWEED™Coat  {Totally Without External Environment Device}  Which generated a small field of self-contained environs, cooling him when necessary.
    "Zachary, How can you be wearing that wool coat and not be melting in this heat?"
      "It's TWEED™.  Sh."
        "Tweed huh?  Well my coat's Leather, and–"
         "Quiet, they're moving."
 And indeed they were moving, but the only indication of this was the fact that they weren't where they were a minute ago.
  Capt. Brown looked up from the ground,  where he had been trying to push himself further into the shade under the bush, with minimized success
   "Where did they go?"  He said. 
     "Juste derrière vous, imbécile."







-=Best Regards=-
-=-=-=-=-=-
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
 -=-

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

The C.W.A. of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode 55: That New House Smell



Last Week as you recall,


-=fig. 369: dr. smith in bed=-
The soft, warm bed seemed to stretch for ages. 
  Dr. Smith, His mind a valley of pink fog, stretched lazily.  
    Still not fully awake, he rolled onto his back. 
     Two glowing green eyes, inches from his nose, met him. 
  "AAARGH!" Dr. Smith yelled,  painfully awake.
    "Good Morning, Sir." Said Jeeves, Dr. Smith's robotic butler. 
 "Jeeves, how many times do I have to tell you not to wake me up like that!" 
  "Is that a question Sir?" 
   "No.  Just, next time, turn the lights on."
     "I apologize, Sir.  I came to tell you that the mayor is waiting in the kitchen." 
       "Who?  James?"
          "Yes Sir." 
  Dr. Smith rolled out of bed, falling the short way to the floor, and surveyed the smallish room.   It was brown,  tan really, nothing special.  One wall was composed entirely of windows,  which looked out over the treetops of a huge forest.  Next to the bed was a small table with a typewriter and Dr. Smith's glasses. 
  Which he put on.
He walked to the closet, and put on his suit.  It was gray, with a red bow-tie.  "How do I look Jeeves?" 
 "You look fine.  Sir."
   "Thank you, however you would say that regardless." 
     "That's true Sir." 
 Dr. Smith walked to the door out, and stopped.  Next to the door was a mess of wires and metal.  
  Dr. Smith pulled a tool from his pocket and set to work.  "What is that Sir?"
    "A wrench." 
      "I Meant the mechanism, Sir."
        "Ah.  Before I answer, a quick question.  Jeeves how many rooms did you pass through to get here?"
         "Twelve Sir." 
          "This machine aims to get that number down to zero, by exploiting the trans-dimensional qualities of the Red Door in the kitchen.  If I get this right we should be within one step of the kitchen."
 Dr. Smith put the final bolt in place, tightened it, and punched a number in.  

-=fig. 370: a skeleton=
 They walked out into the kitchen. 
  "Ah!  James!  Good to see you.  How's being mayor for life treating you?"
    "Fine.  You Know, I've walked around your house, the outside, several times, and it never took more than thirty minutes.  I can't see the walls of your kitchen.  And you just walked out of a one-sided door.  Is this another of your science-y tricks?"  
       "No, I came back one day and the house was just like this.  I think it's growing."  
   This seemed to disturb Captain James Brown of the Legopolis City Rooftop Police, Mayor-for-life of the Grand City of Legopolis.  It's pronounced Le-gopolis. Legopolis.  It's french for "Le Gopolis" as in "two Gopoli"  
  Capt. Brown kept stealing furtive glances at Dr. Smith's kitchen table. 
    "What are you looking at?"  Dr. Smith said, trying to follow his gaze. 
      "Your skeleton. "
 Dr. Smith took a minute to understand this,  being a literal thinker.  
   "You mean the one sitting at the table." 
      "Yes, why is it there?"
       "It was sitting there when I got here, I think The House created it, like the rest of this stuff.   I find it hilarious. I mean, really, how can you not?"
 Capt. Brown just cringed.  "Yep. Skeletons, classic humor."
   Dr. Smith took a good look at Capt. Brown.  "Something's different, " he said.  "Where's your coat?" 
    Capt. Brown shrugged.  "The Colours came back and so did the heat.  It's a good twenty-six  degrees.  Had to leave my trenchcoat at the office."  {26º C, 80º F}  
  "Look at us, rambling on about the weather.  Would you like something to eat?  We probably have a fully stocked larder someplace, and Jeeves here can cook." 
      "I'm not hungry, just had lunch.  But I would appreciate a refreshing beverage."
        "Jeeves, get the man an iced tea.  Wait, lunch?  What time is it?"
   Capt. Brown pulled out his pocket watch,  "It's–" and was interrupted by a full-size skeleton flying out of a window above his head, and cuckooing twice.  Capt. Brown watched the machine retreat back to it's mechanisms with a certain amount of shocked disturbance.  Like that of someone who had just suffered a trauma that would haunt them for the rest of their life. 
  "Isn't that just a hoot?" Dr. Smith said, breaking into silent giggles.  
    "For the foremost mind on just about everything, You sure have a macabre sense of humor, Zachary."
      "If there's one thing funnier than skeletons, it's cuckoo clocks.  So a skeleton in a cuckoo clock?  That's 'the living end' as they say."
         "Does it do that often?"
           "On the hour.  I have yet to discover where that skeleton comes from, although I suspect there's a giant cuckoo clock behind that window.  How's that iced tea coming Jeeves?"
  There was a subtle crash, like that of a dropped pitcher of iced tea.  "It's certainly coming, Sir."
    "Good 'droid, Jeeves, carry on."  
      "Thank you Sir." 
  "So what did you come to sse me about James?" Dr. Smith said pouring himself a bowl of SucrosePuffz™{Sugar-coated sugar, for when you need sugar, use as directed.} then started the esspresso machine. 
    "Zachary, We have a national emergency."
     Dr. Smith deliberately poured his espresso over his SucrosePuffz™, which then snapped, crackled, and exploded a cloud of green gas.   
         "What sort of National Emergency?" Dr. smith said as he hunted for a spoon.
            "We're at war."




-=Best Regards=-
-=-=-=-=-=-
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
 -=-

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Open 'Till Midnight

In what strange scenario would you need a car dealership at midnight?

  No, I can picture it; 
    "Oh god!  The Car is irreparably damaged!  And its so Bloody late! What will we do?"
        "Well, we could order a taxi–"
            "A TAXI?  But that's so expensive! I need a car, now!"
              "Well, there's a Late-Nite dealership three blocks from here–"
                 "How Late-Nite?"
                   "Well, midnight but–"
                     "WE SHALL TAKE IT AT A RUN!"



It's so much better if you read it in an outrageous British accent.
  But then again, what isn't?



-=Best Regards=-
•

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

The C.W.A. of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode 54: Ronald Daveu



Last week as you recall,  the Colours of Legopolis had been replaced, and the city restored to its former, non-monochromatic glory.
  But one loose end remained, Ronald Daveu, famed explorer and founder of Legopolis, who was paying a social call to Dr. Smith.
 The problem arises when we realize this man is supposedly long dead.
  And yet he drinks earl grey.
   Ron had become separated from his true time by an unlikely series of events, {See ep. 50: The Black Planet} which in the end brought him here; Dr. Smith's kitchen, eighty-five years after his death.

 "Yer house is bigger'n the inside." Ron said, quite eloquently for him.

-=fig. 362: a newly remodeled kitchen=-

Dr. Smith had noticed this.  "It is… Jeeves," He addressed his robotic manservant, Jeeves. "When did this happen?"
  "I couldn't say for sure sir.  If you recall, I was debilitated for most of our most recent adventure.  But I have taken the liberty of exploring our new abode, and as such have discovered that behind each of these three doors behind me are three further doors, the one you have just entered from {which invariably leads back here,} and two others, each of which contains another three doors, continuing the pattern.  So far we have five bathrooms, eight bedrooms, a pool, and a library.  Furthermore, it is my opinion that I have yet to explore every corner of this house's labyrinthine proportions."
   It was at that moment that the window above the center door behind Jeeves sprung open, and a skeleton jumped out.


-=fig. 363: four of the clock=-

 "Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuckoo! " It said, before being sucked back into whatever machine it came from.
    Everyone stared at the spot where it had disappeared from for a moment.
  "That t'were disconcertin'."
    "I would have to agree with you on that point, sir."
   Dr. Smith did not share that opinion however.
       He was smiling,  A rare occurrence for him.
        "That was awesome!"  Ron and Jeeves stared at him.  "What?  A skeleton in goggles just flew out of a window in my kitchen!  And then it Cuckooed!"  Jeeves gave him a worried eye, "Very…Good.  Sir."
  Dr. Smith turned to Ron, "Mr. Daveu, if we're going to be getting you back to your home time, I need to know what year you live in. "  Mr. Ronald Daveu, famed explorer and founder of the grand city of Legopolis, was a poor and illiterate man who never learned to read or write, and was mainly concerned with getting back to his wife and their small cabin, deep in the backwoods of what would someday be Main Street Legopolis.
 "I dunno." Said Ron.
   "You Don't know what year it was?"
     "Nope."
  Dr. Smith could tell this was going to be tricky.  Ron Didn't know what year it was when he got left, neither did Dr. Smith.   He couldn't think.
  "Mr. Daveu, you have waited nine years to return home,  you are going to be waiting a bit longer.  This tar is beginning to harden into my clothes and soon I won't be able to move at all."  It was true, He was caked in black, gooey tar.  Ron smelled worse, however.
  "And look at you, you must want a bath…or two.  Jeeves here seems to know where the bathrooms are."   Dr. Smith Turned on his heel, and set off for the yellow door.  There were three doors, a yellow one, a red one, and a blue one.  Before he reached it though, he was stopped By Jeeves.
 "Sir, Take this."
  "What is it?"
   "A Sandwich."
     "Oh."
      "And this is a map I have taken the liberty of drawing up.  It details as far as I have explored, be sure to add your findings to it.  Take good care of it.  The sandwich is for your journey, you may eat it."
         "What would I do without you Jeeves?"
           "You would die, Sir. At the hands of an evil Romanian or the tar of his planet, or you would trip and fall, cracking your head open like a watermelon."
              "Very true Jeeves.  This everything?"
                 "Yes."
  Dr. Smith opened the yellow door, walked through and closed it behind him.  He was then faced with a choice, Yellow or blue?  He was in a small room, with no windows or furniture. Before deciding, he turned around to face the door he had just come through.  From this side, it was red.  He chose the second yellow door.
   This room was resplendent in red, with luxurious velvet draperies, and a view of the ocean.   Which didn't add up because Dr. Smith's house was nowhere near the ocean.  It was near a cliff.  And yet there the ocean was.  This room is what a real-estate professional would call a 'suite', and suites always have bathrooms.  So Dr. Smith looked around for one.  He found the yellow door first, and opened it.  It was an incredibly fancy bathroom, with dozens of shiny knobs, a porcelain tub, and three sinks.  Why anyone would need three sinks escaped Dr. Smith,  but they were there.  There was also a  small cupboard filled with fluffy white towels, and one laundry chute.
 Dr. Smith opened the laundry chute and looked down it.   It was dark, and seemingly never-ending.  It also sucked gently, as if powered by a vacuum.   Dr. Smith threw his clothes down, and they were whisked away.
  He then discovered that there were knobs over the tub for hot water, cold water, lukewarm water, green water, purple water and bubble bath.
    There was also, next to the tub on a little shelf, a small yellow rubber zombie. Which squeaked when you squeezed it.  Dr. Smith thought this was hilarious.
-=-
 When Finished with his shower Dr. Smith walked out to the main room of the suite.  His clothes were laid out, folded, and pressed, on the bed.
 He put them on and opened the other door.  The blue one.
-=fig. 364: the worlds best closet=-
It was a closet devoted entirely to hats.
  Or to be specific, one hat.  Dr. Smith's prize winning fedora, dozens of them.  All identical.  Dr. Smith carefully grabbed one, and looked it over.
  It was perfect.
     He tried it on,
        It fit.   It was as clean as a new hat and as comfortable as an old one.
 Dr. Smith smiled. 
-=-
 He walked across his new room, and was met with the door he had come through to get here.
   It was somehow more luxurious from this side.  And again, it was red.   The redness was a navigational aid, if ever you got lost all you would have to do is keep taking the red door until you were back in the kitchen.  The kitchen seems to be the hub of this maze.   When back in the kitchen Dr. Smith took a look around,  there was Jeeves, serving a stranger a cup of Earl Grey tea,  there was the skeleton at the dinner table, there was the–Wait, who was Jeeves serving a cup of tea to?   Dr. Smith looked closer.
-=fig. 365: earl grey=-

No it was Ron.   Dr. Smith hadn't registered him when he walked in the room because the Man didn't look like Ron.  For one thing, his skin was a different color.  And for another, the only overpowering smell in the room was that of lilacs.  Lilacs are always a non sequitur.  
  "Jeeves, Why does it smell like flowers in here?"
     "It was the strongest soap I could find, Sir.  And Mr. Daveu here does not believe in baths."
      "The smell keeps them invisible flesh-eatin' demons away."
 Dr. Smith nodded, this was a common back-country belief.
   "Daveu, you are a fairly important figure.  You don't know it yet, but you are.  That means that when you went missing someone was bound to have noticed."
     "I assume me wife would'a noticed."
       "Right, and she would have sent someone to look."
         "There's a problem with yer thinkin'.  There ain't nobody there for 'er to send."
          "No other people at all?"
            "No."
              "Okay, so our cutoff point's 1893.  That's when the first settlers came.  Anytime behind then is irrelevant.  How many winters had you and your wife been married?"  Ron held up three fingers.  "Okay, that should be all the information I need.  Jeeves, do we have a records room?"
  "To be honest Sir, I just got here myself."
    "So what you're saying is that you don't know."
      "Correct, Sir."
        "But the house will acommodate to our needs, right?"
          "Ah, I see Sir.  It is 'Worth A Try' "
Dr. Smith cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled up to where a ceiling should be: "ATTENTION HOUSE, I NEED A COMPLETE RECORD OF THE HISTORY OF LEGOPOLIS…PLEASE. "  The Please was added as an after thought, on the Silent suggestion of Jeeves.
  Almost immediately there was a low rumble, like something big and heavy being slid into position.
   The rumbling stopped.
     The Macabre Cuckoo sounded off five times, then retreated for another hour.
  A small white light above the center of the three doors lit up, indicating that the red door had suddenly become important.
  Dr. Smith looked quickly at Jeeves, who shrugged.  He then walked over to the door.
    It was a room of records; books, papers, clippings of newsprint and handwritten notes highly organized and tightly packed on floor-to-ceiling shelves.   The room itself wasn't very big, just a couple of yards square, but it was incredibly tall, so tall Dr. Smith couldn't see the ceiling. There was a ladder on rollers provided,  and every 10 feet or so there was a railed landing.
  Dr. Smith was struck dumb.
    For a moment.  The information he needed was about the very beginning of Legopolis,  so it stood to reason it would be on the very first few shelves.
   He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but he found it in the diary of one Lisa O'Callaghan.  The name gave him pause, because Lisa O'Callaghan was his mothers name.  But his mother had been named after some distant ancestor, perhaps this was that selfsame one.  He flipped through most of it, until he came to this entry:
  "  April 12, 1890. 
         Dear Diary, Ron went off hunting three days ago, he has yet to return.  I fear something dreadful has befallen him, but I shan't worry for he has been gone off longer than this before.  Oh how I do hope he comes back …" It was at this point where Dr. Smith's eyes glazed over.  It had turned into some mushy girl stuff, with the words that jumped out being "love"  "draperies"  and the all-time favorite, "I fear if he doesn't come back soon I shall have to chop the wood myself as the fire is dying and it is getting cold. If the fire goes out the wolves will be at the door!"  Dr. Smith skipped forward a couple of days, and Ron still wasn't back.  He skipped forward a couple of months, nothing.   It was then when he decided that April 12th, 1890 was the day Ron had fallen into the black planet.
  With his date set, he returned to the kitchen.
    "Ron!  I have found the day you left and I'll be ready to go in a minute."
      "How'd ya find the day?"
        "I found your wife's diary.  How come she didn't change her name to Daveu?"
            "I honestly don' know.  Something about her obscenely rich family not lettin' her."
  Dr. Smith took the remark about her family being obscenely rich with a grain of salt, because Ron had never seen more than about ten dollars at a time, which admittedly in 1890 was a huge sum.
   "HOUSE?  I NEED A DOOR TO THE GARAGE…PLEASE."
 The light above the red door lit up.
"Thanks house.  Alright Daveu,  follow me."  They arrived at a brightly lit platform high above a field of flowers.
-=fig. 366: the time machine=-
"It don' look like much."
  "Yes, well.  Neither do you."
   "Sir, I would like to come."
     "No Jeeves."
       "Sir, my prime imperative is to keep you alive, to protect you from dangerous things like wormholes and rugs. And I can't protect you if you're eighty years in the past."
          "Jeeves you found me on a different planet, I don't think eighty years will make much difference.  If you're really worried ask the house for a time machine and follow me.  See you in a minute."   Dr. Smith climbed into the cockpit, Ron crawled into the crows nest.
  Dr. Smith fired up the engine, which involved quite a bit of actual fire, and they disappeared.
-=-
   They flew over the woods, Ron pointed out his cabin and they set down.
  Ron climbed out.
    "Thanks…"
      "Dr. Smith, Dr. Zachary Smith."
       "Thanks Dr. Smith.  If'n it weren't for you, I'd still be stuck.  In that…Dark place. With the tar. So Thank you." 
  Dr. Smith nodded.  "Goodbye Ronald Daveu."  And with that he disappeared.
 Ron set off at a run, using his rifle as a walking stick.
-=fig. 367: running home=-
  He ran.
    He ran.
        He Ran.
 The branches of trees stung as they whipped him.
    He Didn't feel them.
        He ran.
 He had made it!
    He was home!
       Lisa was feet away!
  "Lisa! Lisa I'm home!"  He called.
      No one answered.
       He opened the door,
         there was no one home.
 He circled the grounds,
  and ran into a man.



In seconds the man had a rifle, fully loaded and ready, inches from his face.
 "Where's Lisa!" Demanded Ron.
    "Who?"
      "The Woman who lives here!"
       "Oh.  Her.  The Woman and th-the little boy haven't lived here for months."
The pit of Ron's stomach fell through to his feet.
  Months.
   "What little boy?"
     "Sam, I think his name was.  Could you get that gun out of my face?"
       "No.  Why did they leave?"
         "Um…a…man on a horse came by and convinced…Lisa…To go with him.  He had some kind of long, stupid name like…um… Duke Callaghan.  If you could just…not shoot me.  That would be great.  I promise, I bought this house fair and square."
  Ron put his gun away.  Duke Henry O'Callaghan was Lisa's brother.  A weasel if ever there was one.  The only place they would go would be The Big Castle in Quagmireland, Where the O'Callaghans were from.
  Dr. Smith.
He could get him there in his…doohickey.  Maybe he hadn't left!
   Ron Ran back to the field,
    Dr. Smith was gone.
"I hate them rich people."  Ron said.
-=-
  "See Jeeves, I came back.  In good time Too!"  He checked His watch,  "See I've only been gone Five minutes!"
   "A day and five minutes, Sir."
     "Well, obviously we need to work on that.  On a side note, I'm really hungry."
        "I'll fix you something to eat sir."



-=Best Regards=-
•

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

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