-------------------- "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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posted
Numfy stank. He walked tentatively through the hen-house, creaking, cracking, dripping and glopping.
Nobody stood downwind of him.
Various members of the squad ran from window to window, looking out into the wind and rain. The occasional lightning bolt still split the wet night, giving Numf an almost luminous appearance. Water dripped incessantly through the rusty ceiling onto the straw-covered floor of the hen-house. Scrawny hens clucked quietly to themselves in the dark corners of the building, having been rudely awakened by some twat falling noisily through their roof.
“Just out of curiosity,” said her-whose-name-shall-remain-as Harbi-at-least-until-the-end-of-the-story, “what does the J stand for Mike? You know, Michael J Hunt. What does the J stand for?”
“Well,” replied Mikey-boy, who had remained on all fours, looking like a very pissed off dog, “my parents were somewhat religious, so decided to give me a biblical middle name.”
“So what is it? Jesus?” asked Harbi, sniggering.
“Jacob – that’s a cracker!” said Spunkeater. Nobody else got it.
“Hows about Jehosophat?” asked Betty. Followed by hails of derisive laughter, Bruce.
“Joshua?”
“Jerusalem?”
“Jehovah, Jehovah!” “Stop it, you’ll only make it worse!” “Worse? How could it……”
“Okay you lot,” said Harbi rather forcefully, “you can stop with the regurgitating Monty Python sketches and thinking you’ll get a laugh out of it.”
“Damn, there goes my plan for the rest of the thread,” complained Numf, sulkily. He was, in fact, a Numf in a humf. A Humfy-Numfy. If he had been sat on a big, plush sofa at this moment, he would have been a comfy-humfy-Numfy – but that’s a different story.. “ I reckon his middle name’s Judas,” reckoned Numf, in a humfy voice.
Everryone turned slowly to look at Hunt. There was silence apart from the infernal dripping and the soft clucking. Oh, and the noise of the rain battering off the corrugated iron roof. In fact, there wasn’t silence at all. It was actually pretty damned noisy, as anyone who has stood under a corrugated iron roof in a heavy rain can attest to. But nobody spoke for a second.
“Okay, it’s a fair cop, guvnor,” said Hunt, looking somewhat guilty. “Well, you know, if the cap fits……”
“If the cap fits, what exactly?” asked Numfy. “Buy one that isn’t epileptic?”
posted
Everyone stood at one of the half-dozen windows, with the exception of Numf who was so smelly that people started gagging if he came within 3 feet of them, even from down-wind.
Numf was standing peeking through the big double barn doors at the far end of the hen-house.
Whichever way they looked, all they could see was blackness, with some very low low level light reflecting off the heavy, heavy rainfall. The rain came down, straight and hard. It was punctuated at irregular intervals by searing whiteness, which felt as if it was arc-welding their eyeballs into the back of their skulls. Sure buggered up their night vision as well.
“Squeak, squeak!” said Rody who had just nipped out the barn door into the rain, to get away from being dripped on.
“I’ll have to take your word for it Rody, because my night vision’s buggered at the moment,” replied Numf. See, I told you. He turned to the rest of the squad. “For everyone who didn’t catch what Rody said, there’s a cave entrance 150 feet in front of us, which‘ll take us to the villagers. He’ll have to guide us once we get there, because apparently it’s easy to get lost.”
“Uno momento por favor!” said Vaseline. “I read somewhere that rats had no real idea of distances - it was either near, far or bloody far to their brains. So can we trust Rodys distance of 150 feet?”
“Well, I can’t see anything but rain and lightning out there, so what options do we have?” asked Numf.
“Well,” said Napalm, “ We could unravel a sock, tie one end round Rody and let him run up there, tie it round a rock and then run back, and we’ll be able to work out how far it is.”
“What if the wool snaps?”“What if the wool starts to absorb the rain?” “Will it stretch?”
“What a pile of crap!” interjected Harbi. “Listen, if Rody says it’s 150 feet, then I say we trust him. Now, how are we going to do this?”
“I reckon,” said Mike……..
“I don’t think anyone gives a big blue damn what you reckon, little doggy!” replied Betty, forcefully jerking on his collar.
“No, go on, let him have his say,” said Harbi, poised heroically, arms crossed under her majestic bosom, all of her weight on her back foot.
“Thank you, oh majestically poised one,” simpered Mike sarcastically. He hurried on before he was jerked about again, standing up to address the squad. “I reckon that we send Numf out first, because he’ll stand out for miles around, covered in that luminous guano. That’ll distract the attention of all the ninja out there, and while he’s getting the shit kicked out of him we can all sneak past.”
“You’re asking for it, you are!” snarled Numf, lunging towards him. He was restrained by Sonnie and Napalm. “Behave yourself, brother. What were you going to do? This?” And so saying Sonnie turned sharply.
Mike fell, as if someone had kicked him very hard in the gonads.
But then, that’s because…..oh, listen, do I really have to point out the obvious, or can you work it out yourselves? You can? Good.
"Sonnie, you can't do that!" remarked Napalm.
"Why not? Something to do with us being heroes, and not abusing those that deserve a damn good kicking? Without first a fair trial by 12 of their peers?" asked Sonnie.
"Helllllll no!" replied Napalm. "It's cos you've already kicked him in the knackers, so doing it a second time loses all comedic effect. And makes it look like you've run out of ideas. Which also, I'm afraid to tell you, means that you're not allowed to do this either...."
So saying, Napalm lifted Mike up off the floor by the two-fingers-up-the-nose method. Stuck pigs have squealed quieter.
"Damn, and I was looking forward to doing that one again. How about if I did this?" asked Sonnie, grabbing both nipples and twisting in opposite directions.
"Can't say I've got anything against that one," replied Napalm, nodding in a suitably impressed way.
"Nah, sorry," said Betty. "We used that move earlier when we were left to look after him."
"Okay, so has anyone given him a Chinese burn like this yet?" asked Sonnie, administering the wicked flesh twisting of his forearm.
"Yelp!"
The squad all shook their heads. "Okay, I'll do that then." Twist. "Yeeeeeelp!"
“No, wait a minute” said Harbi, standing in the classic hand-under-chin, thumb-and-forefinger-either-side-of-mouth, eyes-to-the-ceiling, thoughtful pose, lit light-bulb suspended above her head, “he’s given me an idea.”
Everyone looked at her expectantly, except for Mike who was too busy nursing his balls and other injured areas.
posted
Actually I need a new pair of shoes so getting the wallets out sounds like a brill idea to me, cheers guys!
This is great Numf. Why is it sadistic humour always works? We know it shouldn't and a bleeding hearted liberal like myself should be especially embarrassed but I'm loving your story!
More and more and some more after that too please, if you would be so kind.
Bxx
-------------------- "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
| IP: Logged |
posted
B - glad you're enjoying it. I know what you mean about the sadistic humour. It's probably just funny 'cos it's so out of character for yourself, Sonnie and I. But then, hopefully people who don't know the real us will find it funny too. Any insights to this from anyone else?
You don't think Keith'll take offence, do you? Nah, I didn't think so either.
posted
“Aw, come off it Harbi,” said Sonnie. “That’s not you wanting money from us all to fuel that shoe fetish of yours, are you?”
“I’ll tell you what,” piped up Numf from the doorway, “if we get out of here I’ll buy you a pair of gymn shoes.”
Harbi glanced at the ceiling, dreamily. Under her breath she said, “ Ahhhh, Jimmy Choos!” The spell broke, she shook her head to clear away the last vestiges of her dream Crisscross shoes. Strappy satin sandals with buckled ankle strap and self-covered stiletto heel. Leather lining and sole. Heel, about 3¾". Made in Italy. Ridiculously uncomfortable, but eminently fashionable and much lusted after.
“You’re on, Numf!” she shouted quietly up to the far end of the hen-house. “But that wasn’t what I was after…..”
quote:Originally posted by Numf El: You don't think Keith'll take offence, do you? Nah, I didn't think so either.
You know me too well Ken....
This is fab, I haven't laughed so much since gran caught her tit in the mangle... (that was a quote from a childish song we used to sing in the minibus on the way back from Regattas in case anyone thought I was being particularly nasty... which reminds me, Numf I still remember the Twelve Days of Xmas song! I sang it to the girls in the office on Friday - won a pint for it too... who says infantile sexual innuendoes don't pay?)
Loving your work Ken....
li'l bro K x
From: home sweet home... unless i'm posting from work | Registered: Jul 2003
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posted
Half an hour later, a dirt blackened Rody the Super Rat sneaked out of the hen-house door, checked all around to make sure that there was no-one watching, and sprinted off to the left, through the rain, a length of black string trailing behind him………
posted
The hen-house door opened slightly, and a flourescent figure moved awkwardly out into the rain, stood there for a second, and then sprinted, straight legged, after Rody.
Even without the lightning, the figure could be seen fairly clearly through the rain filled darkness. Spears and throwing stars passed, missing due to the speed that the figure was moving, and the adverse meteorological conditions.
Harbi was watching from a gap in the doorway. The figure reached about 100 feet out from the building, and a lightning flash painted the sky with whiteness. In this singular flash of light Harbi managed to count 27 black figures chasing after the luminous figure, splashing and sliding in an attempt to capture it.
“Right, lets go!” Harbi muttered, and the squad started out of the hen-house.
They ran, crouched over, straight ahead, praying that the lightning would stay away for the ten seconds or so that it would take for them to reach the safety of the cave entrance. And hoping that there weren’t any more ninja lying in wait.
Harbi went last. To maintain the illusion she had stayed behind to the last second, playing out her end of the string. When she let go of her end the figure was caught by a gust of wind, and lifted easily into the night sky. She watched as a bolt of light from the sky struck the figure, which instantly exploded in a shower of hen shit. A couple of the SGG ninjas had launched themselves at the figure as it had lifted off of the ground, unluckily for them catching it just as the lightning struck. Two frazzled figures struck the ground. The remaining ninjas were now covered in luminous splashes, which could easily be seen in the otherwise black and miserable night.
While they were all still blinded and wondering what the hell was going on Harbi ran, as quietly as she could, through the rain and puddles, to where the rest of the squad waited.
Rody reached the cave at the same second that Harbi did. “You brave little rat!” said Harbi, picking him up affectionately. Rody gave her a kiss on the nose.
“Awwwww” went the squad.
“I’m bloody cold,” complained Numf. “When am I going to get some more clothes?”
“Listen you,” said Harbi, “we’re just lucky that we didn’t have to rely on those seven-year-old condoms that you had in your wallet. The rubber had just about perished, they were that old. Thankfully the rest of the guys and self-empowered girls get their end away more regularly than you do. Otherwise we would never have been able to make our very own Condom Man.”
“Yeah, okay,” agreed Numf. “But you could have at least left me with my underpants!”
posted
“Look at that – not only has he given his life for us, but he’s also highlighted where all the ninja are!” said Napalm quietly, pointing back at the ninja.
“Well, I reckon that he’s done us a service. Condom Man!” said Harbi. “We should get him a posthumous membership of Legionworld. No greater gift hath a man that he should lay down his life for his fellow. We salute you, Condom Man.”
“We salute you!” echoed the squad, in a gladiatorial manner, standing tall and striking their chests with balled fists.
“I reckon he should be put forward for a LW Medal Of Honour!” piped up Ahole.
“You’re loonies!” screeched Hunt in a very high, girly way.
Silence echoed around the cave entrance as the squad turned to stare at him.
“That’s our dear departed comrade that you’re talking about, I’ll have you know!” said Spunkeater, towering menacingly.
“Uh, guys,” said Numfy, staring out into the blackness, “before we start getting heavy with Hunt again I think you ought to know that those splats of bird shit are headed our way….”
posted
They had thought that it was dark outside. By the time that they had travelled 30 feet into the tunnel they were hard pushed to see their nose in front of their face. What small light had followed them into the cave had vanished.
They travelled as quickly as they could, well aware that they were being followed by the bird splattered ninja.
Rody the Super Rat was in the lead, with the end of Numfs second un-ravelled sock in his mouth. The thread passed along the line, with everyone holding on with one hand, and feeling their way with their other along the cave wall.
Harbi was second in line, followed by Napalm, Spunkeater, Vaseline, Drock, Betty, Hunt, Joe and Ahole.
Numf had drawn the short straw, and took up the tail of the line. He wore only the boots that he’d fought to keep when they were making Condom Man, and he had his Raygun in his left hand. Bits of him were trying to make as small a target of themselves as possible. Thankfully for his ego it was very dark.
posted
They had to keep moving, and moving quickly.
They knew that they were being closely followed, but thankfully Rody was good to his word, and guided them easily down the twisting, turning corridor.
Occasionally Numf would spot a flash of flourescent poo back along the corridor, but never close enough, or for long enough that they had to worry about it.
After about an hour and a half they came to yet another junction in the path. Rody took the path to the left, without as much as a thought. They had managed to create a bit of a gap between themselves and the SGG ninjas thanks to Rodys Super Rat senses and intimate knowledge of the cave system. The ninja had managed to follow them just as easily, however, always managing to pick the right path, no matter how many options there were.
“Hey, Ahole, gimme your hat, quick – and tell everyone to move along the corridor a hundred yards and then stop. And no noise,” said Numfy quietly. Having grabbed ahold of Aholes offered hat, Numf ran back and threw it a few feet down the right fork of the junction.
He then slinked back down the left fork very carefully, only skinning his knuckles off the walls a couple of times.
Numf stopped, far enough along the corridor so that he could see the ninjas as they came to the fork. He crouched down quietly, waiting, looking back along the corridor.
Then, just as the first sign of flourescence could be seen back in the distance, Numf felt a large coat being flung over his head from behind and a hand round his mouth. He started to struggle, but heard Sonnies voice quietly in his ear, “Shut up, you stupid twat or you’ll get us all killed!” Numf ceased struggling immediately.
After an indeterminate number of seconds Sonnie spoke again. “They seem to have taken your bait, but just wait another few seconds. Okay, I’m going to take my coat off your head, but remain quiet.”
They formed up again, and proceeded, quietly at first, but soon Numf felt compelled to ask what the hell had happened.
“The message had come to the front from Ahole to stop, ‘cos you had a cunning plan. So we stopped, and turned around to see what you were up to. And there you were, still flourescent! Still all covered in that chicken shit, which had obviously soaked through your clothes and covered your skin,” explained Sonnie, who had stayed back with his brother. “So, instead of hiding when you crouched down, you were still perfectly visible. And that explains how they had managed to follow us no matter which way we went!”
“But how come no-one noticed this before?” asked Numf.
“Well, I would imagine that it was because you were always at the rear! But lets get a move on – they might realise that they’ve made a mistake.”
posted
Thanks Keith, i hadn't noticed that one - it's deleted now. Big hugs.
On with the story...........
-----------------
They travelled down, further and further into the side of the mountain. They had lost their tail for now, and travelled easier.
“I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with F.A.”
“Yeah, very good Numfs!”
Harbi heard running water, and asked Rody what it was.
She relayed the reply to everyone. “Just ahead there’s a small underground river that goes through the mountain, and comes out at the southern end of the valley in which El Asticpants sits. He says that Numf should get washed, so that we don’t attract any more unwanted attention. Seems fair enough to me.”
“Yeah,” said Napalm, “I think we could all do with a bit of a rest, and maybe even a drink of water for refreshment.”
“Squeak!”
“Rody says, yeah, him too, and the river ahead is cold and fresh, and as pure as the driven snow. Sounds good to me too,” translated Harbi.
They came to the end of the passageway through which they had been travelling. Rody sneaked out into the large cave through which the river ran and looked around, checking for anything unusual, or unwanted. He sniffed the air carefully, not returning until he was satisfied.
“Squeak,” he said quietly to Harbi on his return.
“Okay guys and gals, heads up and pay attention. Rody here says that there’s a strange smell in that cave, but he’s not concerned. It’s not animal, not vegetable, so therefore not a problem. However, the cavern is big, and echoey. So, no noise. Otherwise we’ll be heard miles away along these paths,” relayed Harbi to the troops. “We’ll have ten minutes here, and then we’ll head off – Rody says it’s only another mile or so to our destination.”
Numf headed for the river, following the noise. He badly needed a soak in a luxurious bubble bath, but immersion in the cold spring water was all he was going to get at the moment, so it would have to do. At least he wouldn’t smell so bad. Even he didn’t want to stand next to himself at the moment.
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![[LOL]](graemlins/lol.gif)
(that was a quote from a childish song we used to sing in the minibus on the way back from Regattas in case anyone thought I was being particularly nasty... which reminds me, Numf I still remember the Twelve Days of Xmas song! I sang it to the girls in the office on Friday - won a pint for it too... who says infantile sexual innuendoes don't pay?)![[Cheers]](graemlins/cheers.gif)
here's to the next 500 and the 500 after that...
