Rody will be returning - he's not forgotten, don't worry.
The complete lyrics to the 12 Days of Xmas may never be revealed in this thread unfortunately, due to the adult themes, but I'll try to drop a few hints to one or two of them if I can.
Anyway, the next few chapters are coming up just about right away...............
From: Scatland | Registered: Sep 2003
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Five minutes later, still slightly damp, Numf knocked on Stacys door. There was no reply, although upon listening closely through the keyhole Numf could hear some quiet singing. He opened the door tentatively.
“Stacy?” he enquired. “Yeah, is that you Numf?” came an echoey voice from the bathroom. “I wondered how long it would take you to find your way here.”
“Listen, I need a favour from you…..”
-------------------------------------------
“Come in control – this is 4-Adam-16,” said Numf into Stacys walkie-talkie.
“Sir, this is the Los Angeles County Police Department,” said the bored, nasal Police controller. “We have been informed that 4-Adam-16 no longer exists, so we would appreciate if you don’t play with their equipment.”
“Well, from what I’ve been told, you’re half right. Jim Corrigan is dead, but I can confirm that Officer Sheridan is most definitely still alive,” said Numf, a twinkle in his eye that the controller couldn’t see.
“Sir, are you trying to hold Officer Sheridan for ransom?” came the slightly-less-bored-and-possibly-seeing-a-bit-of-excitement-in-an-otherwise-boring-as-hell-day voice.
“No, not at all – she’s just in the bath at the moment,” said Numf, quivering slightly at the thought of being a bar of soap……. He could hear the happy sound of singing coming from the bathroom behind him.
“I’m sorry sir, did I hear you growl?” asked the still-slightly-interested controller.
“Who me? No, not at all,” Numf replied, clearing his throat noisily.
“Sir… Sir, what exactly is the nature of your call?” Numf could tell by the tone of voice that the controller had gone back to being seriously bored and had retreated back into her knitting.
“I was wondering if you could put me through to 4-Adam-30, please,” asked Numf, all sugar coated.
“But no-one has used that particular call sign for nigh on 20 years!” said the controller in a how-much-more-of-this-shit-do-you-expect-me-to-take voice.
“Well, if you can just give it a try for me, it would be much appreciated. And if he’s not answering, you can tell him that there’s a Big Bad Mama waiting to chew his ass - or do something to his ass anyway,” said Numf, showing that he knows what AQ was talking about earlier. “And connect him back through to here when you’ve reached him. Roger and out,” said Numf, dropping the walkie-talkie on the bed.
“Oh loooover boy! I could do with some help to wash my back!” came wafting on the steamy air escaping from the bathroom……..
Numf lay face down on the King sized bed, chin resting on the backs of his hands. Nekkid as a jay bird.
“I’m sorry for laughing,” said Stacy, wrapped up in a white terry toweling dressing gown, “but I’m used to the T-Bone, you know?” She measured out a distance with her hands that would have had you looking dubiously at fishermen. This motion had the added bonus of taking Stacys hands off the knot holding her gown together. “And when I told you to give me 12 inches and hurt me, I expected a bit more than three thrusts, a grunt and a chinese burn,” she laughed out loud again, not for a second minding Numfs battered ego. “And when a lady does her best Mae West impersonation you don’t immediately go “It’s a gun, look!” and whip out a toy ray gun.” She giggled pleasantly to herself at the memory.
“Well,” said Numf, complete with petted lip, “at least I make you laugh.”
“True – and if there’s one thing that gets me into bed almost as fast as a huge …….. personality,” corrected Stacy just in time as she remembered that she should at least try to keep this a family thread, “is someone with the ability to make me laugh.”
She picked up a large, soft pillow and hit Numf across the back of his head. Numf turned in alarm, hands up to protect himself. However, when he saw the big doe eyes, the loosening knot around the midriff and the naughty girl smile he grabbed the second pillow and counter-attacked, a look of utter childlike glee on his face.
From: Scatland | Registered: Sep 2003
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Soft downie feathers lay all around, the remains of several very fine pillows. The springs had been well and truly tested on the mega-deluxe-kingsize bed. And had met every expectation.
Numf and Stacy lay side by side holding hands, deeply satisfied grins spread from ear to ear on both faces.
“I can’t remember the last time that I felt this good,” said Numf.
“I can’t remember the last time that I used my bed as a trampoline!” said Stacy. “Lets do it again!”
Sonnie stood outside the door listening to the noises. He wished that he didn’t have to interrupt, but he had no choice. He sighed and shook his head.
“Heads up and pants on, you two, we’ve got company!”
Within a minute they had all met up in the corridor. Sonnie had managed to get scrubbed up, and was looking ‘fairly’ military in his combat trousers and clumpy boots. The pink mohair jumper with a theres-something-not-right-here blue “male” insignia (made up of two adjacent circles with an arrow coming out of the intersection of the circles, pointing straight up) took away from the military aspect though. Stacy and Numf were in a state of disarray, both half dressed, pulling clothes into place and adjusting items as they hopped along. They managed to get knickers mixed up, but neither complained. Harbi had managed to bathe luxuriously, wash, dry and press her magnificent lycra super-heroine costume, wash and brush her luxurious hair (although she hadn’t had time to dry it, so it was pulled back in a pony tail), apply all the suitable make-up and generally make herself look fabulous again after a couple of days serious buggering about.
“So, Sonnie, what seems to be the problem?” asked Harbi.
“Well, if you look out the window you’ll see that, not only has there been some kind of minor release of steam from the volcano, which seems to be turning into a kind of fog, but there’s also about a gazillion black clothed ninja heading this way.”
They all took a few seconds to glimpse out of the window. Truly they were quickly surrounded by a great hoarde, equal in numbers to all the sand in a very small egg timer. And yeah verily there was indeed a mist-like appearance to the mountain. “I wonder how they knew we were here,” said Harbi, looking around at the other three. “After all, I did tell you not to turn on any lights to attract them.”
“Ummmm,” said Numf apologetically, head bowed, hands behind the back, swinging slightly from side to side. “You know when you’re a kid, and the bus window mists up and you draw a smiley face or something rude…..”
“Yeeeessss?” agreed / asked the others.
“Weeeellllllll, when I got out of the bath there was this great big huge window just covered with condensation,” Numf confessed.
“Yes?”
“So I drew a willy.”
There were three explosive / giggly / snorts of people unable to stop themselves laughing, but knowing that they shouldn’t. A twenty foot willy on the side of the tallest building in town may possibly have been what had attracted the enemy.
“I know what we need,” said Numf, in an attempt to distract them all. “A musical interlude.”
From: Scatland | Registered: Sep 2003
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posted
“So, Stacy, what made you decide to join the police?” asked Numf of Stacy, by way of trying to avoid the impending danger, and maybe lead them into a song.
One quick change of clothes and scenery later they were walking through an olde fashioned amusement park. Numf had on a black quiff wig, brothel creepers and a Ride-em High cardigan. Stacy on the other hand had dressed in head-to-toe shiny black leather, complete with left handed cigarette. Sonnie also sported a wig of some description, and was similarly clothed to Numf, but didn’t look quite as geekish. Harbi wore a short pleated skirt, bobby socks and a pink leather jacket.
People ran around them, having fum, being exuberant and generally deserving of a good kicking.
They walked four abreast, jauntily, skipping occasionally. Stacy passed the cigarette along the line.
A steam calliope, sounding like an early 1970s hammond organ, ground out a relentless beat, just waiting for someone to pick up on it.
“# Walkin’ in the park just the other day, baby,” said Stacy to Numf, remembering the time as if it was just, well, the other day.
”# What do you….” Numf started to ask before Stacy had finished her sentence.
“#.. what do you think I saw?” continued Stacy. “# Crowds of people sittin’ on the grass with flowers in their hair. Said, ‘Hey.’”
“Boy,” interjected Harbi sarcastically, chewing gum and blowing bubbles. She didn’t have her trumpet with her, and anyone who’s heard her sing will know why she didn’t really wish to join in.
“# Do you wanna score?” said Numf making another highly inappropriate attempt to get laid again. “ #You know how it is….” Everyone ignored him.
“# I really don’t know what time it is, woh, oh,” said Sonnie, checking his watch, and being astonished at exactly what time it is.
“# So I asked them if I could stay awhile,” continued Stacy.
“# I didn’t notice but it has got very dark” said Sonnie, and he was really, really out of his mi-i-i-i-nd.
“# Just then a policeman stepped up to me and asked us, said, ’Please, hey, would we care to all get in line, get in line.’ ” said Stacy.
“# Well you know…..” said Sonnie with some urgency in his voice.
“# They asked us to stay for tea and have some fun,” said Stacy. “# Oh, oh, he said that his friends would all drop by.”
“Ooh,” said Harbi dripping some more sacrcasm, but in a very super-heroinic way. She decided to join in the fun after all. What the heck! She shook her hair out of its pony tail, and her majestic mane looked remarkably like that of a certain Rock Star (clue: surname Plant). She gave it some seroius air guitar welly. “# Why don’t you take a good look at yourself and describe what you see, And baby, baby, baby, do you like it?”
“# There you sit, sitting spare like a book on a shelf rustin’” said Numf, with no clue whatsoever why, nor what the words meant in any context, let alone this one. But that was nothing new to him. “# Ah, not trying to fight it.”
“# You really don’t care if they’re coming, oh, oh,” said Sonnie, trying to get their thoughts back to the problems at hand.
“# I know that it’s all a state of mind, ooh” replied Numf.
Stacy went back to her explanation. “# If you go down in the streets today, baby, you better, You better open your eyes.”
“# Folk down there really don’t care,” agreed Numf.
“#…..really don’t care, Don’t care, really don’t Which, which way the pressure lies, So I’ve decided what I’m gonna do now,” explained Stacy, opening up for the grand finale.
Numf, Sonnie and Harbi all joined in together for the final lines. “# So we’re packing our bags for the misty mountains Where the spirits go now, Over the hills where the spirits fly-y-y-y-.”
The final harmonies could really have done with a bit of practise. Scratch that. A LOT of practise.
“#Ooh, I really don’t know,” said / sang Numf under his breath.
From: Scatland | Registered: Sep 2003
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“……come in 4-Adam-16……this is the Los Angeles County Police Department……”
“4-Adam-16 here, control. What can I do for you?” asked Numf, answering the walkie-talkie that he had taken with him from Stacys room.
“I have a message for you from 4-Adam-30,” came the bored nasal voice.
“Go ahead, control.”
“He says that at dusk you’re to look to the west.”
“Is that it? What exactly did he say?” asked Numf.
“His exact words were ‘Tell them that ……. at dusk they are …….to ….. look …… to the………west.’”
“What the heck does that mean?” asked Numf.
“I’m sorry, they pay me to pass on messages, not decipher them.”
“Roger that. Thanks a bunch, over and out. Okay then, so what time is it now?” asked Numf looking around everyone.
“That’s why I was getting a bit worried earlier,” said Sonnie. “It’s about a minute and a half to sundown. Darkness. Black. You know, a ninjas traditional hunting time.”
posted
Fat Bill had managed to escape the clutches of the evil, and seriously horny, Spock and daughter. Spock had a habit of running amok once every couple of years when his hormones took over. It had been decidedly easy, much easier that it should have been. Maybe they’d finally decided that if they were to survive in space for any length of time then they should conserve some food. And the best way to do that was to get rid of Fat Bill. He had followed the trail of synthi-rowies from his cell, through the open doors (which had been specially widened), and down to the shuttle bay. There the trail had led into one of the spare shuttles, which had been laden with half the ships supply of rowies. As Bill had gorged himself, the shuttle bay doors had apparently opened of their own accord and sucked the shuttle, complete with Bill, out into the vast expanses of space.
He had received the strange communication on his retro Police band walkie-talkie as he neared the large, misty mountain, and like anyone with a mobile communicator, immediately parked to take his call. It would have been remiss of him not to. He was glad to receive the message from his son, whom he hadn’t seen since a rather embarassing encounter with the Dark One. It would appear that Numf had linked up with an old partner of his, and by the sound of things they were in a spot of bother. But they were only around at the other side of the mountain, or at least that’s where the County Police had triangulated the call from. It shouldn’t take long to come to their rescue.
Bill lifted off again, and started on his flight round the mountain. He noticed a light on his panel flashing. Hatch open? Must be a malfunction. Never mind.
It really was a beautiful setting, especially with the sinking sun behind him, covering the city in an orange glow. Ah, there was the Hilton, as he remembered it. He headed towards the roof.
Bill heard a scuffle in the back of the shuttle. Some bastard was stealing the last of his rowies!
He squeezed himself out of the pilots seat as fast as he could, and hurled his mass towards the back of the shuttle, accidently knocking the windscreen wipers on to high speed as he went.
He could see a black foot disappearing out of the rear door, and when he went to investigate further he could see there was a black parachute gently floating down towards the ground.
The table where the remains of the rowie mountain had been now only contained a small brown paper bag. Bill picked it up and glanced inside.
“Now that’s not………..very nice at …….all. Why, if I’m not ……. mistaken ….. in this brown …….. paper…….. bag ……… that there are ten ………torn off ….testicles. ……. Highly illogical, as a ………certain Vulcan might ……….say.”
He threw the bag out of the rear door, in a vague and not at all accurate attempt to hit the bastard that had stolen his rowies.
As he climbed back through the shuttle craft towards the cockpit the balance tilted, sending Bill into the front window, and the shuttle craft heading straight towards the ground…………..
From: Scatland | Registered: Sep 2003
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“Hey look, there he is!” Numf exclaimed, pointing at the sillouetted shuttle flying towards their location through the orange light of the sunset. They noticed the black sillouette jump from the shuttle and almost instantly open up its parachute. Followed by a small bag?
“DAD! DAD!” shouted Numf excitedly. He jumped up and down like a small child who had just seen Santa Claus coming out of the chimney.
Seconds later the shuttle nosedived. Numf went silent. There was nothing any of them could do but watch.
It hurtled towards the front door of the Hilton, where humungous masses of ninjas were all waiting for their turn to use the revolving door.
Being stuck against the windscreen like a screaminig Garfield, there was nothing that Bill could do to prevent what happened.
The shuttle hit the ground nose first, a hundred yards from the revolving doors, and spun, arse over tit, through the hoardes. Killing and squashing as it went. Blazing di-lithium crystal juice spurted at mega temperatures over the masses, leaving a large number of black burning shapes running around like chickens.
The shuttle finally embedded itself in the revolving door, directly below the window from which our intrepid foursome looked out.
Bill peeled himself off the windscreen, stood up and wiped the debris off his trousers. “That safety glass ……… is good. Thank fu…..”
Giving one last shudder, the shuttle craft exploded, creating a crater where the entrance had been, and sending red hot debris outwards and flames directly up towards Harbi, Numf, Sonnie and Stacy, They instinctively backed away from the window, but the flame had no effect.
“oh well,” said Numf nonchalantly.
“Oh! Numfy!” said Harbi. “Oh, that’s terrible! Your father……..”
“Whatever.” Shrug.
“How can you say that?” asked Harbi, worried for her friend.
“Fat c*** never even sent me a birthday card,” said Numf, and left it at that.
Unbeknownst (there’s a great word!) many levels below a fat black blob peeled himself off of the lobby wall, amidst a pile of smouldering debris, and searing flesh.
“Hmmmm,” he pondered. “I think I’ll go and ……. get myself a ……. safer job, like ……. advertising breakfast ……. cereal….”
From: Scatland | Registered: Sep 2003
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“I’d better go and check the defences,” said Numf, tearfully.
He walked along the corridor and opened the fire door at its end, turning to see if anyone was following him. The fact that he had hesitated to go through the door saved his life, as 27 ninja death stars embedded themselves in the wall beside his head.
Numf fell back immediately, expecting the ninja to follow hard on his heels. After several seconds it was obvious that they weren’t following.
“Harbi, throw me your mirror!” shouted Numf back up the corridor to where the other three had ducked into a defensive position.
“No chance! I can’t survive without my mirror!” replied Harbi.
“Just give him your mirror,” said Stacy. “You can always borrow mine,” she said, getting in before Harbi started to argue the point.
“Why don’t you give him yours?” asked Harbi, glaring at Stacy.
“Because it’s in the bedroom,” replied Stacy.
“What, on the ceiling?” asked Harbi, rather bitchily.
“Bitch!” “ Slapper!” “Tart!” “Whore!”
And then the hair pulling started. And the twirling around, with whelps of pain. And squeaks of nastiness. And the scratching and hissing.
After several seconds standing there shaking his head in dismay, Sonnie took action.
He thrust both index fingers into the sides of each girls mouth, and pulled them up and towards him, where they floundered, barely touching the floor with their toes.
“Look!” he exclaimed. “Two little fishies! Now you two, stop it. If you really need to do this, then once we get back home we can fill a large paddling pool with lime jelly and sell tickets. “Now Harbi, just give Numf your bloody mirror!”
“Yesh shir Shonnie,” she shaid. She reached into her secret mirror compartment in her lycra costume, removed the mirror and threw it along the corridor for Numf, who caught it one handed. “Can you let ush go now, pleash?”
From: Scatland | Registered: Sep 2003
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Leaving Harbi and Stacy to kiss and make up (Sonnie really ought to have sold tickets for that one), Numf edged the mirror round the bottom edge of the door. The mirror showed that the barricades had held, but that countless ninjas were crushing up against each other in an attempt to force the sofa aside. Surely the mass of human flesh would eventually force its way through.
Numf moved back and drew his ray gun, having wedged Harbis mirror at the required angle. The laser from his ray gun reflected hotly through the doorway, slicing ninja limbs, severing arteries and generally making a bloody mess. Screams of ninja silence filled the air.
Numf stopped and looked again in the mirror. Limbs and heads lay cauterised on the floor, bodies fallen everywhere. Then, in slo-mo, the sofa fell in half.
“Shit! Run!”
Numf ran through half a metre deep treacle wearing lead-lined boots, time having slowed right down to the speed of nightmares.
A mass of whole, and mostly whole, black clad deathmongers followed. Thankfully for Numf the front ranks all were missing various appendages, and were thus unable to throw any spears or other projectiles, and also helped block the accurate throwing by the ninja behind them.
The fire from Sonnie, Harbi and Stacy took down the front ranks, which tripped the second and third ranks, but gave those in the fourth rank a clear view of Numfs back. There was only time for one volley as Numf neared the closing gap of the door to Stacys room.
Twelve spears and fourteen throwing stars left black gloved hands at the same instant, travelling at well-nigh lightning speed, straight at Numfs back.
There was nothing that anyone could do to stop them.
From: Scatland | Registered: Sep 2003
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-------------------- "Tempus Fugitive" the final part of the Adventures of Dream Boy series, set in the Three-Boot Universe. Read it only in the Bits o' Legionnaire Business Forum.
From: here, more often than not | Registered: Sep 2003
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-------------------- "Tempus Fugitive" the final part of the Adventures of Dream Boy series, set in the Three-Boot Universe. Read it only in the Bits o' Legionnaire Business Forum.
From: here, more often than not | Registered: Sep 2003
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You know what you can send your favourite li'l brother for Xmas Numf? Want a clue? A certain pink mohair with that slightly not quite male insignia never had a pink mohair....
The musical interlude was class, we do love the Zep! But you knew that din't you....
B without a mirror - it'll never happen
This is the usual mix of humour, innuendo, inanity, insanity and fabbo escapist fun Ken. By far the funniest thing since Aunt Mabel caught her left.... we'll leave that there eh?
oh there's toooo many funny things to mention, just keep 'em coming!
And as B said above, don't die!!!!
(at least not before you send me that jumper )
luv to you and the grrrls
xx's K
From: home sweet home... unless i'm posting from work | Registered: Jul 2003
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