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=-

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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 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=-

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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 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=-

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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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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.

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.

The C.W.A. of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode 53: The Final Confrontation

Last week as you Recall,

  "YOU!" Dr. Smith said,

-=fig. 354: the next world leader=-

"Nice cape."

  "Thank you, doctor." Said Von TipRău, with no recognition of the sarcasm. "It befits ze next ruler of the Vorld, don't you think?"

    "TipRău, you'll never be the ruler of anything."

      "You are wrong, doctor, for I am ze ruler of zis vorld, zis hellish little vorld.  When I come here, zis vas de beautiful shining city on ze hill.  Now gaze upon the putrid ruins of my empire.  Bah!" He spat.

    "Von TipRău, I'm tired, hatless, homeless, and covered in tar. Now, return the colours of my people or else."

     Von TipRău glared at Dr. Smith like only an arch villain can, "Vhy? Vhat vill you do about it?"

 Dr. Smith had to admit, he was at a loss for plans.

"Now, doctor, vitness my rise to power vonce again!"

Dr. Smith was escorted quite rudely outside, Where the nefarious machinations of Von TipRău's crazed mind were waiting.

-=fig. 355: a familiar device of  diabolical purpose=-

"It's The Giant red Machine!  But it was destroyed!"
   "In Fact, it vasn't, doctor Smith.  I merely teleported you and your friends avay from it, I'm surprised you didn't notice."  Dr. Smith was about to dish out a snappy response, when a cannonball whizzed though the air, to strike the earth inches from Von TipRău. 
 "Vhat!"

-=fig. 356: the cavalry=-

It was Capt. Brown and Ron in a commandeered MMM, "James!" Shouted Dr. Smith overjoyed at his friend's return.  "Hey Zachary!  We'll be down in a minute, Ron, keep firing."  Alas, Ron, while enthusiastic, was not a very accurate shot, and many cannonballs failed to meet their mark. One of the cannonballs, by sheer dumb luck, struck Dr. Smith's guards, But before Dr. Smith could get away,  his doppelgänger, without looking, pulled a gun to his head. "Don't even think about it."  He said.  Von TipRău took the opportunity in this commotion to sneak away to the controls of the Giant red Ray machine.
  "Mwah! Ha Ha! When I flip this switch, the whole of my plans will be complete!  I shall Finally rule ze vorld!"
 Dr. Smith just looked at him, "What is your plan?  All you can do, really, is create holes in reality with that thing, dangerous, yes, but not world-domination ready material."
 "Holes? You zink holes were ze plan?  Ze Holes are a side-effect! Zis, Zis is da plan!" What that he made a sharp ninety-degree turn and fired at Capt. Brown and Ron.

-=fig. 357: over-saturation=-

Capt. Brown and Ron were instantly vaporized. "Vith such Power, your vorld vill bow unt mine vill be reborn!  I shall be the ruler of all!"Dr. Smith was shocked at the sudden death of his only friend, and Ron, his distant anscestor.  Strangely Dr. Smith hadn't died, but he hadn't time to ponder that as Von TipRău was rambling on about something.  "…And with zis machine, the tar will be fought back from it's death grip on my planet, and I'll be the ruler of something vorth ruling!"
 "Come now Von TipRău, call off your goon.  If you let me go I'll give you a fair fight."
   "Zat is exactly vhat I"m afraid of Dr. Smith, I've been in a fair fight vith you, and I lost.  No! I shall be keeping you vhere you are zank you."  Von TipRău then proceded to busy himself in the levers and switches that are required when you operate a giant multi-coloured laser.
  A soft click, like that of the firing mechanism of a small-caliber revolver being readied for action.

-=fig. 358: jeeves to the rescue=-

Dr. Smith looked over his shoulder, "Jeeves!" he said. 
"Good afternoon sir, I noticed my reinforcements hadn't turned out as I hoped so I took matters 'into my own hands,' if you will. Mr. Doppelgänger, I firmly suggest a modicum of movement if you would like to retain whatever gray-matter you have left, sir.  Also, I would recommend that for your own well-being you keep your hands where I can see them and drop your weapon, if you please."  Doppelgänger did so. "Thanks Jeeves."  Dr. Smith said, with relief, "Keep him covered."  "Very good sir."
Dr. Smith, freed of all death-related restrictions, looked around fervently.
What he was looking for was a master control panel, of which there is always at least one.  Especially in places such as this.
  He spotted it.

-=fig. 358: master control=-

He pulled as many levers as possible, but nothing happened.  Then he had an idea.  All of the colours of legopolis were stored in a glass chamber.  A glass chamber that last time he was here, was a teleporter.  Now if he could just… Ah. There it is.  L…E…G…O…P…O…

-=-

A humming started up in the background, not a tune, but more the sound a huge piece of machinery would make.  Von TipRău, preoccupied as he was with setting his giant laser to 'World Domination' didn't notice.  In fact, he was so involved that he didn't notice the brown figure sneaking up behind him.  What he did notice, though, was the sharp blow to the head.  "That's for nearly exploding me." Capt. Brown said. "Zachary! Where are you?" 

  "James?" Dr. Smith's face lit up. "You didn't die!" 

   " 'course not. Ron's O.K. too, the blast just missed us, did a number on that flying thing with the cannon though." 

     "What happened to Von TipRău?" 

      "A sudden and inexplicable sharp blow to the back of the head." Dr. Smith nodded approvingly.  "I'm surprised no monoids tried to stop me, actually."  They both looked around.  There were no monoids, anywhere. They were just gone. 

   "James.  Where did you leave TipRău?"

     "Right where he fell, the floor of the cockpit of the giant red laser." 

        "I'll give you two to one odds that his body is missing." 

  It was. 

        "We won't find any MMM's in the harbor, and I just bet he left some sort of–" at that very moment a voice came out over the loudspeaker: "THIS PLANET VILL SELF-DESTRUCT IN TWELVE MINUTES.  SO LONG, HEROES. I VILL BE BACK, COUNT ON IT. ELEVEN MINUTES."

"Hey," said Capt. Brown, "does that mean that he's still here someplace?"
  "No it's probably just a prerecorded message.  Press those, would you?"
   "All of them?"
     "All of them.  Then make sure you know where Mr. Daveu is." Over his shoulder he yelled:  "JEEVES, IS DOPPELGÄNGER STILL OUT THERE?"
      "I assume so sir, but I believe he is deceased." 
        "What makes you say that?"
          "The way he collapsed into thousands of tiny squares. Sir."
 Dr. Smith uttered a fairly strong expletive. "Well, No time to worry about that now.  Tell me when the colours powering the machine disappear."
"Very good Sir." a second later, "They're gone. Sir."
  "Good. James, Have you found Mr. Daveu?"
    "Right here with me Zachary."
      "We only have time for one shot so stand clear of wherever the machine is pointing."
  "ONE MINUTE."
"59 SECONDS"

-=fig. 359: 11 seconds=-

"Are we all ready?"
 "Well–"
   "8 SECONDS."
     "Good!  Jump through, quick."
 They jumped through, just as a world exploded.

-=fig. 360: the end of the black planet=-

Dr. Smith dusted himself off.  "well, that was certantly enthralling.  James," he turned and shook Capt. Brown's hand. "Thank you for the help. I appreciate it.  Mr. Daveu, we'll get you back to the late 1800's as soon as I get myself cleaned up, Jeeves will make you a pot of tea.  Jeeves?  Make him a pot of tea."  Nobody heard him as they were too engaged by the colours falling from the sky.  Dr. Smith noticed them, but being a scientist at heart he merely registered them as a prior mistake. "Yeah, I think I got the height wrong. James, don't let anybody handle these clolours without gloves, once they seep into the ground they should be fine, but until then they highly toxic and will over-saturate your…Can anybody hear me? "
 It really was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

-=fig. 361: like snowflakes=-

The colors tumbled through the sky like giant multi-coloured snowflakes.  Everything they touched sprang back to life, and like the first snowflakes of winter, they drew a crowd.  Everyone wanted to touch one, but Dr. Smith warned them off.  He shouldn't have bothered as the colours were only dangerous when contained in the colour-sponges the monoids brought with them.  Those sponges had burned up during teleportation, and without sponges the colours drifted freely.  Once they had dissipated Legopolis basked in its new glory for moment, then settled down.  "Well," Said Dr. Smith, "That was interesting.  Jeeves, I believe a pot of tea is in order."

-=Best Regards=-

•

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

The C.W.A. of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode 52: Storming the Gate

Last Week As You Recall, Dr. Zachary Smith and the famed Ronald DaVeu had commandeered one of the Monoids' Marvelous Moving Machines, an MMM for short, and were now driving towards the only blinking dot on its radar.

  If they could read Monoidian then they would now that the blinking dot was in fact the home base of the Monoids, a vile place if ever there was one, but since they can't, they don't. 

-=fig. 352: the mmm=-

The only light on this long trip is provided by a selection of lanterns strung across the front of the MMM, not that it did any good on this black planet of tar.  The oppressive darkness of the planet itself sucked away the light of the lanterns, until one by one they went out.  

 "Well, Now we know why they didn't put any lights in!" Dr. Smith said in a lighthearted manner.  Attempting to brighten the overall mood of the situation.   Without any lanterns the only light now came from the horrible engines of the MMM, ferocious jets along the bottom of the machine which cast a red pallor over all.  

Ron, not being one for conversation at the best of times, said nothing.

In the distance the darkness took the shape of a castle, outlined in red as if on fire just behind the façade.  "I think I see it!" Dr. Smith said.  On the dashboard the radar blinked quicker.   As they approached the castle Dr. Smith realized that the castle was not a castle at all, but the ruins of a city, tumbled together and fused by the tar which falls from the sky.  It was a disconcerting sight to see, to say the least.

Dr. Smith negotiated the MMM expertly into the only well-lit area in sight, which turned out to be a dock, of sorts.  Not a true dock for there was no water left on this black planet, but still, a place to store an MMM. Dr. Smith tied up his machine, and took a look around.  There wasn't much to see, other machines, scattered around, tied to the pier.  All were alike, but none the same.  The one across from where Dr. Smith was standing had a giant cannon attached to the bow, another seemed to be made of bits of cars.  There were also lamp posts spread at random intervals, casting a pale glow on everything which only served to deepen the shadows.

 Dr. Smith was sneaking along the pier, quiet as a cat, a quiet cat that is, when a shot rang out from behind him followed by the tinkle of glass.  When he whirled around he saw Ron holding his gun, Old Bessie, and he saw a lamppost without any glass. 

"What did you do that for!"

  "It were spittin' bits o' fuzz at me.  Don' like them uppity lampposts."

    "Well congratulations, with all that shooting they'll be on us in less than a minute!"

A shadow detached itself from the pier behind Dr. Smith.

 "Hello…Again." It said.

Dr. Smith turned around, slowly.

 He knew who it was, too late.

"Hello again…Dopplegänger.

-=fig. 353:Doppelgänger=-

"It's good to see you again my Brother.  It has been a long time."

  "I'm not your brother.  Your mother was a cloning machine your father was a Monoid.  You're at best an abomination, and I'm not related to any abominations.  Except maybe…Aunt Agatha, but that was a accident. "

 "This has been very informative, brother,  But I'm afraid I have my orders. Monoids, take them both."

 Dozens of Monoids stepped out of the shadows, Dr. Smith, unarmed, and Ron, out of bullets, were no match for their sheer numbers.  

  It was a long walk through the makeshift fortress,  dodging hanging stalagmites of pitch, walking over precariously placed boards, and hoping that the room on the other side of this door is still there.

  Dr. Smith's Doppelgänger knocked on the crooked door twice.

    "Enter."  Said a voice from within.

"YOU!" Dr. Smith said, 

We fade to black. 

-=Best Regards=-

•

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

The C.W.A. of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode 51: The Taking of the MMM

   Last Week As You Recall, Dr. Zachary Smith had had a run-in with death on The Black Planet, so named for it's propensity to be covered in tar.  Luckily he was rescued by the Famed Ronald DaVeu, Explorer extraordinaire, thought dead these many years, who had based himself in the top floor of a tall building, the only area in these parts not flooded with the vile tar.

  But Dr. Smith, not happy with such squalid accommodations, had conceived a plan for their escape.

"We're doin' what?" Said Ronald DaVeu,  Ron to his friends.

 "Drawing them here." Dr. Smith said, referring to The Monoids, a species of men in top hats and suits, who think as one and patrol The Black Planet for stragglers.

   And then shoot them.  Not friendly, these Monoids.

 "Why're we drawin' 'em here?"

   "For their MMM, Marvelous Monoid Mover."

     "I Don' think it's too marvelous."

       "It's going to transport us out of this gooey black prison, I call that pretty marvelous.  You with me?"

 Ron met this with a growl, albeit a consenting one.

-=-

     Dr. Smith Pushed the final glob of tar off the edge.

      They had cleared off the entire roof, mostly. 

       Dr. Smith picked a pistol from his tar-stained coat, 

        and fired once.

 

-=fig. 347: dr. smith's gun=-

"What now?" asked Ron.

 "We wait."

They did not have to wait long as the Monoids had spies everywhere.  Not human spies, of course. but tiny, robotic spies shaped like spiders who crawled over the landscape recording sound and video and then relaying it to their terrible masters.

 The MMM flew over the landscape,  it's propulsion system charring any remaining life to a crisp.  For such a terrible machine it wasn't very big, no bigger than a mid-size car.

  "I see it." Said Ron.

    "Good, prepare yourself."  Ron slunk off into the shadows.

The Monoids came in quick, guns blazing, there was the hum of a laser canon, warming up, and then the roof a foot from Dr. Smith exploded in flames.

 He didn't flinch.

  The monoids paused while their weapons recharged.   The brief wait was long enough for Dr. Smith to dive to the left,  Ron charged in, fired two shots {The extent of his antiquated weapons} and picked up another two guns, which were ready and waiting.

-=fig, 348: ron saves the day=-

These last two should have been enough, but the Monoids are an en-earthy fast bunch.

  Now their weapons were recharged, and Ron was out of guns.

   He clicked the triggers a few more times, uselessly, and then was pushed out of the way by Dr. Smith who was brandishing a brand-new weapon.

-=fig. 349: the sonic particle disruptor ray=-

"DON'T ANYBODY MOVE!"  Dr. Smith yelled,  The Monoids took notice.

 "Who are you?"  They asked in a monotone, all at once.

  "Doctor Zachary Smith and this–" –He indicated his weapon– "–Is a Sonic Particle Disruptor Ray.  It emits a twenty-foot-square field of sonic static that will vibrate apart your very atoms in seconds.  Hand over your machine."

    "You are…Bluffing." There was a note of uncertainty in their voice,  as if they weren't sure.

      "Your kind has met me before.  I don't bluff. Check your memory banks."

There was a pause as they did just that,

        "What is it that you want?"

          "Your machine, and then for you to willingly jump into the tar below."

            "We do not want to–"

              "Think of it this way, Death by tar, or death by disintegration?"

 The Monoids landed their machine on the roof, and, one by one, jumped into the tar.

  As the last one hit the goo below, the Sonic Particle Disrupter Ray's light-bulb burnt out.  It made a noise like this: "bzt." "Cheap lamp."  Dr. Smith grumbled.

Ron was impressed,

   "bravo, kid.  Even I was starting to believe that it was real.  Can't believe they fell for that. You know how to drive one of these things?"  Dr. Smith hopped into the cockpit, "How hard could it be?" He pulled the only lever, and the dashboard lit up in a smörgåsbord of lights. "Wow!  A touch screen interface!  Haven't seen one of these in years.  Good, I see how it works, anything you want to bring, Mr. DaVeu?"

  "Old Bessie."

   "Old–?"

    "This gun here."

     "Oh.  Hey, bring that string of lamps,  if we're going, I want to be able to see where that is."

-=fig. 350: a commandeered vehicle=-

Dr. Smith pressed buttons like a madman, but with a certain order.

  And they continued along.

   A green, beeping circle appeared, and a line counted out its circumference.

    "Ooh! That's new.  Radar,  But what is it tracking?"

This question would have been answered if he could read Monoidian, a cryptic language which is mainly comprised of a sphere with various geometric chucks cut out of it.  But getting back to the point, the message next to the radar read: "HOME BASE"

-=fig. 351: a menacing home base=-

 Join us next week for our next exciting episode:

 Episode 52: Storming the Gate

 Next Tuesday!  Uploaded at 4:10 G.M.T.

  Available any time past then!

-=Best Regards=-

•

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.