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Old 07-05-2005, 10:22 AM   #270
The Saucepan Man
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Join Date: Jan 2003
Location: A green and pleasant land
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The Saucepan Man has been trapped in the Barrow!
The Eye

“Curses! Foiled again!” exclaimed Môgul Bildûr in typically stereotypical fashion as he surveyed the host of Who-Him and Too-Thin from his perch atop Heffalump, before steering the great Oliphaunt back over the serried (and rather worried) ranks of his vast army. The Velour too made a hasty departure, muttering something about surf being up and having important affairs of state to attend to, judging (wrongly, as it happened) that all had now been set right, that the Bolstered-ship looked to be completely in charge of the situation and that this was really none of their business anyway.

And so, as the two great hosts faced each other across the wide plain, Môgul hastily convened a conference of his commanders. The various Uruk captains, semi-literate Trolls and senior Loyers present eyed each other nervously, fully aware of the likely consequences of their Master’s set-back. Only the Cap’n Ar-Kidd, the bushy-browed Dumbarian commander, remained in good spirits. In reaching Valleyum and discovering the fabled weed native to the land, he had achieved that which his ancestor, Ar-Peronome, had been unable to do. Whatever happened, he would now die a happy man (aided no doubt by the vast quantities of said fabled weed that he had been smoking). Greedhog, on the other hand, simply stared blankly at the ground, unable to comprehend how the trial had slipped so badly from his impeccably manicured grasp.

Having predictably worked out his anger on a selection of his unfortunate commanders, Môgul turned to his Advocate-General.

“There there, old chap. Never mind. It wasn’t your fault,” he said, albeit rather unconvincingly.

But Greedhog was inconsolable.

“They’re the good guysss,” he hissed in disbelief. “They’re not sssuppossed to cheat. That’s what we do. They are sssuppossed to act with honour and integrity. How are we sssuppossed to know where we sstand if they don’t play by the rulesss? It’sss just not right!”

“Whatever,” said Môgul, losing patience.

He had in fact been rather impressed with Sueim’s tactics and was seriously considering headhunting him (quite literally) to replace Greedhog. But right now, he had more important matters to consider, such as how to prevent his entire army being obliterated by a bunch of hoary has-been heroes.

“Now let me see …” he said, producing from deep within the folds of his black cloak a battered and dusty old tome and flicking through the pages.

The Dark Lord’s Bumper Book of Back-up Plans, Desperate Gambits and Aces in the Hole had never failed him in the past, but it was wearing rather thin. Most of the pages had been ripped out and those that remained seemed woefully inadequate to address for the situation at hand. But it was not long before a malignant smile spread across his face.

“The fools!” he chuckled. “Hmm, that should even up the odds a bit.”

“My Lord …?” said Greedhog expectantly.

“They have released from the Halls of that idiot Mantoes a host of long-dead heroes, right.”

“Right, Oh Magnifisscently Malisscious One,” replied Greedhog, seeking to curry favour with his Master once more.

“Well, it says here that, by doing so, they have caused an imbalance in the space-time continuum.”

“Er …?”

“Which means that all I have to do is reverse the polarity of the neutron flow …”

“Eh …?” mumbled a confused Greedhog.

“Sorted!” exclaimed a blissfully oblivious Ar-Kidd.

The remaining captains assembled simply stared dumbly, thinking that their Master had taken leave of his senses, but wisely refusing to articulate such thoughts.

“Shazam!” declared the Dread Developer portentously.

Nothing happened.

Shazam!” he said once more, trying a slightly different emphasis.

Silence. His commanders began to back away nervously.

Sha-zam!” he tried again, summoning up every remnant of dark sorcery within his black soul.

Still nothing.

“Oh Delightfully Diabolic and Dessceitful One,” piped up Greedhog. “If I might …”

“Shhh …!” hissed Môgul sharply. “Listen. Can you hear it?”

Almost imperceptibly at first, a deep rumble reached the ears of those assembled. Gradually, it built until it had become an ear-shattering roar, seemingly issuing forth both from the sky and from deep within the earth at one and the same time. The very ground upon which they stood began to shake and dark clouds gathered overhead. Bright shafts of jagged lightning rent the stormy darkness and a piercing shriek could now be heard above the roar. It was, as usual, all rather clichéd, but effective nonetheless. As was the Dread Developer’s reaction.

“Look! Look!” he exclaimed in jubilation. “They come! They come to me! MWAHAHAHA!”

Back at the site of the trial, the One-up-man-ship had been in the middle of celebrating their seemingly inevitable victory and greeting with great vigour the throng of Who-Him and Too-Thin when the hullabaloo had begun. Thinking that the army of Moredough was beginning its advance, they turned to meet it in battle. But the dark horde had not moved.

“What in Emu’s name is happening?” cried Orogarn Two.

“Ai!” wailed Vogonwë, clapping his hands to his sensitive ears.

“Good grief, what now?” muttered Kuruharan, glancing disdainfully at the Half-Elf.

“It can’t be …!” said the Gateskeeper in disbelief. Being a geek of colossal proportions, he had recognised the signs immediately.

“Can’t be what, Gateskeeper?” asked Soregum.

“He has reversed the polarity of the neutron flow!” declared the wierdo Wizard ominously.

“Oh no! Not the polarity of the neutron flow!” cried the It-ship as one, without having the faintest idea what he was talking about.

And there was a great wailing and gnashing of teeth among the Wail-ship and their allies, until Soregum piped up.

“Um, what exactly does that mean, Gateskeeper?”

“It means, little one, that …”

But he was cut short by Too-Thin’s cry.

“Egad …!”

All eyes turned to follow his gaze to a nearby hill to where a great scaly reptilian head was rising over the peak. It was swiftly followed by a great scaly reptilian neck, a great scaly reptilian body, four great scaly reptilian legs and a great scaly reptilian tail.

“Flourdrum!” exclaimed Too-thin.

For indeed it was the great Dragon, father of the Hokikoki. And he was not alone. The storm clouds parted as a host of winged Dragons swept down from above, led by Ancalorgas the Black, the most terrible of his kind. And among their number were Smug the Complacent, Scathing the Critical and Argon the Inert. And lo, there ran the great Werewolves, Carchasscof and his sire, Dribblin, no longer hiding amongst innocent villagers but free now to wreak their beastly havoc. Above them wheeled the beautiful but deadly figure of Luringfemfatal, the Vampire vamp, temptress of the noble and virtuous (and, incidentally, Leninia’s former role model).

“It means, little one,” continued the Gateskeeper grimly, “that Môgul has released from the Void every evil spirit that ever dwelt in Muddled-mirth.

And sure enough, a great horde of Werewolves, Vampires, Demons, Wraiths, Zombies, Skeleton Warriors, Mummies, Frankenstein’s Monsters and Creatures from the Black Lagoon was now advancing down the hill towards them led by Flourdrum. And behind them all, a familiar old man wheeled his Vending Trolley. Saurkraut had returned too.

But that was not all. Way back in the mists of time, in his eagerness to conquer the hidden city of Gondola, Môgul had created an army of mechanical beasts and enclosed within them evil misshapen beings. They too now advanced towards the Dread-ship. And their metallic war cry was dreadful to hear.

Ex-term-in-ate!

Last edited by The Saucepan Man; 07-09-2005 at 08:35 AM.
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