The Barrow Downs Newspaper

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Hookbill’s eyes flicked open. He closed them again immediately. The long, wrinkled face of a Werewolf bristled in front of him, blowing its foul breath into his face. The ropes around the Goomba’s hands were beginning to cut into his skin as was the filthy gag on his face; it was an old Clough covered in dust and dirt and a little sick.
“Would you care to explain what this is?” the voice was raspy and harsh. Hookbill opened one eye and held his mouth closed tight. The Werewolf was snarling and leaning closer to his face. With one swift slash of its claws, it removed the gag.
“It’s an umbrella!” Hookbill yelped at last, “At least, it was until your henchman sat on it!”
“Doesn’t look like a very good umbrella.”
“Yes, well, I’m not selling it.”
“Don’t tell them anything!” shouted Lommy from somewhere behind, “Fight the power! Don’t tell them anything!”
“I don’t know anything!”
The Werewolves sniggered and pointed at Hookbill. He frowned.
A Tall Werewolf with what looked like a long white beard wandered into the room with his thick hands behind his back. Sniffing the air, he peered at the captives and chuckled. The Phantom growled and began rocking in his chair.
“There must and shall be aspirin!” he shouted, “My head feels like a pit s-”
“Gentlemen,” said the new Werewolf, “and Penguins. Welcome to our house. I trust you will enjoy our hospitality. You will receive food, drink and sound advice before…” he hummed and tapped his head, “before we dispose of you.” The wolves chuckled. Kneeling down besides Lommy, the leader sniffed and spat, “Now, you were trying to find the heretic known as The Saucepan Man, weren’t you?”
“Would you like a drink?” said Phantom,
“Shut up you!” said another wolf, sneering close to Phantom’s invisible nose,
“I have a heart condition,” he said, “If you hit me, its murder!”
“I’ll murder the lot of you!”
“My wife is having a baby!” Phantom lied with faked tears, “listen, I don’t know what my fr- acquaintances have done to upset you, but it’s nothing to do with me. I suggest you all go outside and sort it out… in the street.”
There was a snap, followed by a cry from the head Werewolf. Lommy snapped her beak several times more and Greenie joined in. The Phantom continued rocking in his chair to the beat of their snapping. The Leader Wolf snarled and gripped one of his hench-wolves by the neck and thrust him forwards.
“Kill them!” he said, “Start with the Penguins!”
“Ah! Good evening,” said a voice, calm and homely, “nice to meet you.” A tall figure with long blond hair glided into the room. His tall red boots tapped the floor as he marched towards one of the Wolves, his immense multicoloured scarf flapping in amusing ways. He whipped around, sending his long dark red coat into a whirl of movement. He Shook hands with the wolves one by one, “I’m The Doctor,” he said, “how do you do?”
The head wolf stumbled backwards, his mouth jittering open as the intruder put his arms around one of the wolves and began talking pleasantly with him. Scratching his head, the white wolf shook all over, clenching one of his fists.
“I say,” continued The Doctor, “it is a lovely place you have here, wouldn’t you say it was lovely, Thinlómien?”
“Oh yes,” she replied, “very lovely. Homely, almost.”
“Yes! And you have guests, I see! But this is no way to treat guests.”
The wolves were paralysed with shock as The Doctor untied the others with a silver device with a round red circle at the top. The Sonic Screwdriver whirred as it cut through the ropes and let The Phantom free. Hookbill rubbed his hands and leaned close to Lommy, whispering,
“Why is Volo dressed like that?”
“Shh!” she replied, “just go with it!”
He nodded and rubbed his eyes. The Doctor continued to move in and out of the group of Werewolves, talking all the time, commenting on the decorations and the structure of the cottage. The log fire in the corner seemed to attract a lot of his attention. The others shuffled closer to the exit.
“It seems to me,” Volo continued, “that if, and I emphasise the ‘if’, if this place were hiding fugitives, and dangerous ones at that.”
“Oh, very dangerous,” confirmed Lommy.
“There, you see? Very dangerous. Anyway, were it holding dangerous fugitives, then they would have to find a way of keeping them away from any rescue attempt, isn’t that right?” some of the wolves nodded, “Excellent! Oh!” The head Wolf was approaching, knife raised and teeth spitting, “Hello! I do hope that knife has been properly sterilised! You can catch all sorts of things from a dirty knife, lockjaw, tetanus not to mention log-”
“Stop your words old fool!” The wolf leaped at The Doctor, but he moved out of the way at the last second.
“Now, Now! My, what large teeth you h- Never mind. Look, as I was saying, if I were hiding a dangerous fugitive and, if I know the typical prison, and, fortunately I do, then I would have to say…” he leaped up on a table, grasped the chandeliered that dangled down and swung over to the fire place, “that this was the area you were keeping me furthest away from and therefore!” he pulled on of the loose stones and the whole wall moved to the side to reveal another room.
“Kill HIM!” shouted the wolf, “Kill them all!”
“Which one first?” asked a smaller one, “Only, we don’t want to get in trouble for killing the wrong one first, I mean what if-”
“Just kill something!”

The Phantom ran on ahead, reaching the top of the hill as the others still stumbled on their way. Hookbill and The Doctor carried a short man with pots and pans strapped all over him and one great pot on his head. He mumbled and muttered something about ‘bins’ and then drooped his head down. Lommy and Greenie waddled on towards Phantom as he surveyed the surrounding lands.
The darkness was deepening, yet a pail red light flickered in the North West. The howling winds whipped around them, causing the usual flapping noises of capes and robes. The rain had stopped, but the ground still squelched underfoot, the two Penguins shook their feathers in frustration.
Once they were all at the top, The Phantom rushed on ahead again, reaching the bottom in a matter of moments. Greenie dived forward and slid down the hill Pengish style. Lommy waited for The Doctor and Hookbill to revive The Saucepan Man. He was still breathing, but his face carried bruises and cuts, not to mention the dents in his pans. They splashed some water on his face and he gasped loudly. Spluttering he turned his head this way and that, blabbering.
“Where am I?” he managed, “What’s the time?”
“We’re not out of the woods yet,” said Lommy,
“Yes we are,” he lifted his head, “there aren’t any trees for miles.”
“That’s not what I- Never mind, can you walk?”
The Saucepan Man stumbled forward, wobbling, but just about staying upright. They plodded on as fast as they could, slipping through the grass and stopping just as they reached The Phantom. He was sniffing the air and humming.
“We had some good luck back there,” mused Hookbill, “It was a little bizarre seeing that little Wolf killing all the other ones. ‘Just obeying orders!’ Brilliant!”
A crow squawked overhead. The travellers bent down and watched it float out of sight. The clouds were moving fast, against the wind and rumbling more than ever. Lommy stepped forward and peered out down the valley. Waving she signalled to the others to follow as she darted along the dirt path way. The Saucepan Man, still being partially supported by The Doctor, stumbled on behind.
Hookbill trotted on forward until he was next to The Phantom. He had his hands in his pockets again and was mumbling, his glowing eyes were flickering from white to blue as he spoke. The Goomba tapped him on the shoulder,
“What do we need The Saucepan Man for?” he asked, “He looks in a bad way and no mistake.”
“He knows something about Gimli’s Chin,” Phantom explained, “we think he knows where the cure is, that’s why they had him locked up. They wanted to get hold of the cure and destroy it. We, on the other hand, want to use it against the virus. Perhaps he can answer a few more questions; like why your newspaper was attacked and why Rikae has vanished.”
“Where are we going, though?”
“Legate’s Barrow. He’s not been corrupted, yet. But I’m learning not to trust anyone at the moment, not after Groin tried to strangle me with his beard.”
“That,” said Lommy, “was because you had been stealing his biscuits!”
“Lies! Lies and slander!”

There were wasps on Legate’s floor; a layer, three inches thick of wasps. The travellers crunched through them with apprehension. The Doctor strode on ahead and made his way into the living room. Legate had just put a teapot on top of his half. He pulled his dressing gown tight around his chest as the cold wind drafted through from the open door.
He struggled to his feet and lent against the wall underneath a picture of himself leaning against a wall under a picture of himself underneath a picture of his dog. Greenie closed the door; a large slab of stone with a handle on either side.
Once they had all settled down in arm chairs, Legate closed the curtains and then stood silent for a moment. The kettle began to whistle and he picked it up.
“Tea?” he suggested, “or perhaps something a little stronger- Where is The Phantom? I’m sure I saw him come in…” There was a loud bang from another room, followed by laughter. The Phantom stumbled out, holding two bottles of wine.
“Cake and tea,” he said, “and fine wine!” He fell onto the floor and groaned.
Lommy sipped her tea with her sharp eyes glaring at The Saucepan Man. He was nodding his head and sinking deep into the chair. There was a crash of thunder and he leaped up with a yelp. He was sweating and breathed heavily as he looked at each of them in the face.
“What happened?” asked Greenie, “How did they get to you?”
“I think,” he gasped, “I think they’d been monitoring me. As soon as I knew Macalaure had Gimli’s Chin, I knew I had to get to the cure before it was too late, but on my way there, they caught me. They tried to get it out of me, but I don’t think they got beyond the location.”
“They know where the cure is?” Said Lommy,
“Yes, but they don’t know what it is. And they’re not going to find out.”
“Where is it?”
“Haven’t you guessed? It’s at the offices of The Downer Newspaper.”

TO BE CONTINUED’ED

[Groin Redbeard]

Another nail biting thriller from Hookbill. I was wondering when Legate would come into the story, and his role is perfect just how I imagine him to be. I was laughing the whole way through, especially at The Docter part and the wolf killing wolf killing the other wolves, ‘Just obeying orders!’

P.S. Tell the Phantom that I'm sorry about strangling him. I'd never intentionally kill him, I love his comics too much.

[Legate of Amon Lanc]

Originally Posted by Groin Redbeard

Another nail biting thriller from Hookbill. I was wondering when Legate would come into the story, and his role is perfect just how I imagine him to be. I was laughing the whole way through, especially at The Docter part and the wolf killing wolf killing the other wolves, ‘Just obeying orders!’

Indeed, it is better and better (of course it must be better when Legate is in it, right? ). But I laughed so much at the simple exchange:

But I’m learning not to trust anyone at the moment, not after Groin tried to strangle me with his beard.”
“That,” said Lommy, “was because you had been stealing his biscuits!”
“Lies! Lies and slander!”

Don't know why, it's just so funnily formulated Also when I imagine it...

And also, a note to one of the preceding things: I am starting to like Fungoltch and Shcmurt, mainly because I think I'm starting to get the point of the story It's really good! (I read the old one in which they were as well.)

[Hookbill the Goomba]

(A shorter episode today as I’ve been feeling a little unwell…)

Sitting on the damp bench, Legate opened his lunchbox. The rain was beginning to fall once again, hard and fast, thumping against his head with ferocity. The three bundles of crossbow bolts hidden within the box were freshly sharpened and polished. He handed a bundle to The Phantom, The Saucepan Man and Lommy; they loaded their crossbows and bowed to Legate.
“Be back before six,” he said, “otherwise you’ll miss lunch.” He chuckled, but The Phantom rolled his eyes.
Hookbill shivered, wrapping his newly acquired cloak around his shoulders and pulling the hood over his already soaked head. Turning to the left, he made a double take at a figure in the distance; he was dressed all in white with a white face mask. When he looked again, the figure was gone.
“What was that?” he asked,
“Oh, probably nothing,” said The Doctor, as if to someone else.
The Penguins marched on up the hill and waved goodbye to the others. Greenie shot down the next hill like a lightning bolt and Lommy followed close after. The Saucepan Man waved as they vanished and then turned to the others. They all nodded and plodded on in the other direction.
The path was broken and dirty; mud slimed over their shoes, slurping as they walked. Thunder rolled overhead, shaking their bones, which was quite painful. The Phantom strode on ahead, the bottoms of his robes were already blackened by the dirt and he hung his head as the rain hurtled down at them.
Over the next hill they crawled, hiding in the long grass. A tall building loomed in the next valley; it bore long glass windows and three stories. One of the rooms at the top was blackened, the windows smashed and flames dancing within. Outside the entrance three Werewolves prowled. The Phantom aimed his crossbow, but The Doctor pushed it down and shook his head. He held up a small, white paper bag and grinned.
The Wolves noticed a bright yellow object. It hit one of them on the nose. Picking it up, the central wolf sniffed it. The shape was like a human child, but no bigger than a pebble, what’s more it seemed to be made of jelly. Several more came raining down. With wide eyes, they began eating them. After one or two each, their heads began to grow heavy; their eyes wandered this way and that. They collapsed in a heap.
“They are vulnerable to Jelly babies?” said Hookbill,
“Sounds like a bit of luck to me!” said The Doctor,
“Sounds like lazy writing to me.”
They slunk past the sleeping Wolves and in through the entrance. The lobby was deserted, the main desk covered with dust and newspapers with graffiti all over them. Hookbill picked one up, ‘Wizard Menaced by Ghost of Ex-Beard’, it read. But over the picture of Narfforc, glasses and a moustache had been drawn in crayon.

“Why can’t we be doing the exciting stuff?” asked Greenie, “It’s just not fair.”
“What do you mean?” Lommy poked her in the stomach, “this IS exciting! Information gathering is an important part of taking down any government.” She adjusted the focus on her binoculars.
The Great Barrow was shrouded in hair. The tendrils flicked this way and that; waving like ghostly hands grappling at the air. Besides that, the place was utterly still. The rumbling thunder continued, louder here, drilling into their Pengish heads. Greenie shivered, sipping some tea from a flask with a picture of Legate’s face stitched on the side. She groaned as the eyes stared out at her.
Fumbling in her pocket, Lommy grasped an old fob watch and opened it up. The time was approaching dawn, even though the skies were still pitch dark. Lifting her head, Lommy’s beak tapped against something in front of her face. It was a metal leg. It belonged to a short bearded figure dragging a large sack up the hill.
“Make yourselves useful,” he said, “grab the other-” he examined the Penguins and closed his mouth with a snap. Stroking his thick beard, the Dwarf groaned and then sat down. “Please don’t kill me,” he said.
Lommy and Greenie turned to one another with raised eyebrows. Lommy nodded at her sister and then winked.
“Alright,” said the Green one, “but you’d better start talking. What’s your name?”
“Groin,” he moped, “Groin Bread Beard.”
Lommy prodded the sack and then pulled it open. She staggered back and held her beak. The stench was like a thousand rotten eggs mixed with the foulest dung available to humanity. It smelt like that because that’s what it was.

The Saucepan Man clattered down the corridor, tiptoeing and leaning against the wall. The others strode along behind with frowns as he kept trying to ‘shush’ them. The Doctor offered The Phantom a Jelly Baby, but he declined because it wasn’t wine flavoured.
On the walls several paintings were hung. There was one of a moustache, one of a beard and another, larger than the others, of a wig. Hookbill scowled at them.
“What have they done with my pictures of stamps?” he cried over the noise of The Saucepan Man, “And my painting of that interesting stone I once found in my bath! They’ll pay for every one!”
The Phantom paced up to The Saucepan Man and tapped him on the shoulder.
“What are we looking for?” he asked,
“Mr Goomba’s Office. I’m not sure where it is.”
“It’s over there,” said Hookbill, “Why didn’t you ask?”
“I just don’t like you.”
“Fair enough.”
They marched down towards the still burning door of Hookbill’s office. Papers, broken pots and a mangled typewriter were scattered on the floor and ceiling. The Saucepan Man held his nose as they stepped over the threshold. Wooden beams were smouldering on the ground at their feet; several things appeared to be moving in the ashes below. There were scratch marks in the walls and the wooden beams, even splats of blood could be seen here and there.
“If the cure is in here,” said Hookbill, “I think I’d have known about it. Besides, if you hadn’t noticed, it has been firebombed."
“And searched, no doubt,” said The Doctor, “see, here’s a note saying they’ve searched the room. ‘Found two bins, three embarrassing photos of The Master, but no cure as yet’… Hmm. Well, that’s encouraging, I suppose.”
“They didn’t know what they were looking for.” The Saucepan Man bent down in the corner and lifted one of the bins, “Here is the cure! In here!”
“You’re a loony.” Said The Phantom, “That’s a bin.”
“Indeed! You see, the complex social-economic system of bacteria and flies was so complex that it was sentient! The bacteria will be able to fight the virus off if we can get enough of them!” he removed the top of the bin and yelped, “It’s gone! Someone has taken all of the rubbish!”
“Yes,” said a voice, “that would have been the cleaners. Now, that is where I may have to take you lot.” Lalwende stepped into the room, tapping her hand with her truncheon, she began to laugh. Around her arm was a long strip of hair, glowing and writing as if it were alive. “The Master will be happy to see your heads on spikes.”

TO BE CONTINUED’ED

Tomorrow's BIG FINALE to The Story so Far will probably be extra long to make up for this one being a little brief. Sorry about that, folks. I've been having some problems with my medication after coming out of hospital so I was pretty much bed ridden today and couldn't write that much...

[Legate of Amon Lanc]

Wow, but this one was no worse than the others, Hook. Sorry, I meant Bill. Hope you're going to feel better, because we're surely looking forward to the big finale (at least I am)!

[Eönwë]

Originally Posted by Legate of Amon Lanc

Hope you're going to feel better, because we're surely looking forward to the big finale (at least I am)!

Me too!

And quantity is not quality. Its amazing, without needing to be long. They're getting better each day.

[THE Ka]

Originally Posted by Narrator Hookbill

It smelt like that because that’s what it was.

Best simile closer- Ever!

~ Similes find metonymies boring Ka

[TheGreatElvenWarrior]

I just now noticed this, Alien has white teeth... More like knives than teeth though...

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Lalwende marched forward, bobbing her head from side to side. At the doorway, Davem lent up against the wall and swayed his legs. He pushed his small, circular sunglasses up his nose and grinned. The smouldering fumes from the room hovered just above their ankles, grappling at their feet.
“Ah!" Said The Phantom, “I’m glad you’re here. I’ve caught these fugitives for you.”
“Shut up you!” Lal shoved him backwards, “Now, all of you, out of the window.”
“This window?” asked The Doctor,
“Any window!”
“Perfect! Come on!” He leaped past the two officers closely followed by the others. Lal gave chase while Davem sunk to his knees and began inhaling the smoke.
Hookbill glanced behind. Lalwende was getting closer, with her teeth gripped and her weapon waving in the air. He leaped over the fallen Werewolves who all had jelly babies in their mouths.
The Doctor leaped down the stairs and peered out of the first window. The figure in white waved to him from the top of the next hill.
“Who is that?” asked Hookbill, running into him,
“Doesn’t matter right now,” he mumbled, kicking the window down, “let’s keep escaping!”
They raced along the pathway going north. The Saucepan Man shook his head as he clattered and clanged along the way. The rain was still thick and soup-like. Chicken flavoured, Hookbill noticed. Harsh thunder rattled through the air, accompanied by a small earthquake. The Doctor stopped and listened as an aftershock shuddered through them.
“Ah,” he said, “the epicentre was north… North West.”
“The Great Barrow?” said The Phantom,
“Probably. Shall we go and see?” he grinned and swung his scarf around, whipping Lalwende in the face. She growled and clasped the two of them by the shoulders. Hookbill was already in the mud a few feet behind, groaning. The Saucepan Man was trying to lift the biggest pot off his eyes, but the dents were too tough.
“When I said, ‘Any Window’,” Lal began,
“Oh, you menant from that floor?” The Doctor shook his head and then her hand, “I do beg your pardon. This way is it?” he turned and pointed towards the Newspaper building. As Lal nodded, he strode forward, ripping the hair off her arm in one fell swoop. She cried out and swore at him with strong breaths.
Hookbill peered up and saw the police officer on her knees tending her arm while The Doctor analyzed the hair with his Sonic Screwdriver. There was some mumbling from The Phantom as he kicked over a small bucket close by.
“Just as I thought,” The Doctor turned to the others, “the Virus isn’t a virus after all! It’s living hair!”
“What?” Phantom raised an invisible eyebrow,
“Yes, interesting isn’t it? You see, when our friend, the little man poet, took over the world; he was just doing it for fun. But, if I remember rightly, he was a keen astronomer, who knows what he saw falling from the skies. This kind of living hair exists only on a few planets. And wherever it goes, all other life leaves. Not a pleasant thing by any stretch of the imagination.”
“What does this mean?” asked Hookbill,
“We need to find those bacteria,” he said, “and fast. It could still be the key. You, you’re coming with us.” He picked Lal up and pulled her along. Dazed and wobbling on her feet, she followed.

A flash of lightning wormed through the air as if it were badly constipated. Lommy poked Groin in the stomach with a stick as he fumbled with the sack. The two Penguins tapped their feet with grins. The Dwarf patted down his thick beard and mumbled again and again.
“What’s all this for?” asked Greenie, “What does old Mac want with all this… whatever this is?”
“Oh, well,” Groin scratched his head, “to make explosives.”
“Pardon?”
“This stuff, and the other stuff in the basements, set them alight and BOOM!”
Lommy tilted her head and then chuckled.
“I like this.” She said.

The Great Barrow Itself was no longer a sight to be marvelled at. It hadn’t been since The Barrow Wight’s last party, but it was no better now. The writhing hair twisted and spun around, flicking the air and grappling with the grass. The Doctor grimaced, wiping his brow with a small handkerchief.
Making their way down the hills, the travellers hid behind the Standing Stones, cold and tall. The entrance was down the pathway, but three Werewolves guarded it. Their faces were stern, their eyes bright and their teeth were always on show. The Doctor patted his pockets and frowned. He produced one empty bag of Jelly Babies and tossed it away. The Saucepan Man grinned and stood up.
“Watch and learn,” he said, tossing a pan towards the Wolves.
Two minutes later, they were bound and gagged. The Phantom kicked The Saucepan Man at every opportunity he got. A wolf prodded them with a blunt spear, forcing them down the passageways into the Great Barrow. The hair scuttled across the floor like lines of snakes, feeling the travelers and ticking their toes. Lalwende pulled at her hand ropes, growling at every wolf she saw.
Down, down, down into the deep darkness they were prodded. There was hair all over the walls, fidgeting, fighting and fermenting. Soon enough, there was no light. Even the Werewolves began bashing into one another. They continued on until, at last, they stumbled into a wide chamber. The air was cooler, yet dry, full of a deep musty smell. The floor was carpeted with hair. At the centre of the room rose a small shape, its purple eyes glowing like something purple that glows.
Torches were lit all around the room, the brightness, compared to the dark tunnels, was almost blinding. Macalaure stood up. He was a mass of hair. His beard seemed to have taken over his entire body, flowing over and out into the rest of the building. It moved by itself, turning this way and that, as if looking, or smelling, for something.
He stepped down and wandered towards the travellers, humming and chuckling. He reached out a fury arm and gripped a leaver. When he pulled it, the whole place began to shake, dust fell from the ceiling and the Wolves howled.
“Do you know what I’m going to do?” asked The Master,
“Well,” began The Doctor, but before he could speak any more, there was a brilliant flash of yellow light.

With hasty movements, the two Penguins backed their way out of the cellar leaving a trail of gunpowder. Groin raced on ahead, wiping his brow and saying ‘Oh Dear’ a lot. Once they were out in the open, some feet away from the main bulk of the Great Barrow, Lommy dropped a match on the trail and ran up the next hill.
“How long will it take?” she asked as Groin slipped down beside her,
“Oh, a good few minutes yet.” He replied, “I set a good long-”
The Great Barrow erupted in a mighty flame. Werewolves were flung miles into the air, falling all over the Downs with many a thump. The grass, stone and mud that built the Barrow scattered this way and that, dirtying Legate’s windows for one.
“A few minutes?” Lommy poked Groin in the face, “Dwarves.” She rolled her eyes and got up, dusting her robes down. Greenie trotted forward and hummed.
The Great Barrow was now a large hole, but raised above it was a large metal framework. Its long steel legs dived into the ground from a central point where it bulged out in a fat compartment. Green lights flicked on and off all along the legs and red ones blinked in the central section.
There was some groaning behind them. Turning they saw The Doctor struggling to his feet, flakes of ash all over his scarf. A few feet away, Hookbill and The Saucepan Man lay with The Phantom already sitting on a rock near by.
“Come on,” he said, throwing a rock at The Saucepan Man, “get up. If we survived that, then Mac surely did as well.”
“Look!” cried Greenie.
A short, hairy figure was clambering up the metal legs of the framework. He was grunting and sniggering loud enough for them to hear. The Doctor rushed forward and placed his hand on his forehead.
“Do you know what this is?” he exclaimed as the others caught up, they shook their heads, “It’s an earthquake machine. I’ve never seen one this big before.”
“Yes, Doctor!” shouted Mac, his beard was burning at the edges and he swayed as he stood on top of the machine, “I was going to break Middle Earth in two. I promised half of it to the Daleks, I felt a physical break would be good enough to make the distinction. But now, you’ve depleted the power! All I can do is destroy The Barrow Downs and everything in it!” he flung a large red switch and began laughing, “Goodbye Doctor! Goodbye, everything! This will give me satisfaction!”
“Only as long as those cables hold!” The Doctor dashed towards the metal frame and clambered up. The earth was beginning to shake; the machine struggled into life, firing sharp pulses into the earth.

Lalwende shook the mud out of her hair and stood up. Glancing to the right she saw the metal contraption firing beams of light into the ground. All of a sudden, a hand gripped her on the shoulder. Turning around, she almost fell backwards,
“I thought you were missing?” she said. The figure nodded and ran past.

The Doctor crawled along the scaffolding towards the large black cables fixing the power source. Mac was rushing towards him, but as he got close he tripped up. The Doctor’s scarf was tied across the gangway. Cursing, he flung the scarf back at him. He grappled the Doctor’s legs and tried to throw him off, but he fought back, knocking Mac towards the edge.
All of a sudden, he turned his attention to the control room. With a grin, Mac dashed back and vanished through a small door. A second later, the gangway was moving, tilting upwards. Mac laughed and willed The Doctor to fall.
Gripping onto the side with his bare hands, Volo began to regret the decision to clamber up so high. He swung his scarf towards the cables and pulled himself towards them. Gripping with both hands, he pulled them free. There were sparks as The Doctor swung low on the cable. Mac shouted his annoyance and began to clamber down from the structure. As he reached the bottom, a dart hit him in the neck. Turning he saw the figure of Rikae standing over him with a blow tube in her hand and two raised eyebrows.
But The Doctor’s grip was slipping. He swung towards the metal gangway, but he missed, plummeting down to the earth, flailing his arms and legs as he went. Hitting the ground he felt many things go into places they shouldn’t.

The Penguins dashed forward, followed by the others. Sliding down the crater of The Great Barrow, they made their way to where The Doctor lay. Sitting around him they called to him. For a while he didn’t move even his eyes, but at last he looked up at them and grinned.
“It’s the end,” he said, “but the moment has been prepared for.” He lifted his hand behind his head and pointed at the white figure that was walking towards him slowly. As he came in contact with the Doctor, he seemed to fade into him, as if they were fusing together.
“The watcher!” cried Greenie, “He was the Doctor all along!”
With a flash of light, The Doctor’s face changed, his hair became shorter and his eyes changed colour. Lalwende stood up and turned her back.
“No,” she said, “I’m not having this! The Scarf, the hat, even the Sonic Screwdriver I could just about take, but Regeneration? No, I’m not having it!”
“I suddenly have the urge to play cricket” said The Doctor.

Rikae carried the mumbling Macalaure away from the devastation. They passed the body of a Werewolf. The hair was disappearing, except for on top of its head. Slowly, it became a Barrow Wight again. Rune Son of Bjarne. Mac chuckled to himself and pointed at the Wight.
“He doesn’t has beard.” He managed,
“No,” replied Rikae, “Well spotted.”
“Are you going to bury me?”
“No, I’m going to help you.”
“Good! Let’s have some pizza!”

Brushing the filth off his desk, Hookbill sat on his old chair and smiled at his burning office. He placed his feet up and leaned back. The stench of mouldy bread was becoming more prominent. Opening an eye, he was presented with Workm’n hobbling at the Door with some papers.
“We have the new front page,” he said, “Just like you asked.”
Hookbill took it and frowned at the headline.
“It’s just as true as every other headline,” he mused, “print it up.”

Th’ended



The Phantom and Alien are annoyed...



The Inside Pages...

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Thanks must go to Oddwen, Formendacil, Gwathagor and The Elf-Warrior for their stories, poems and film reviews. They were all wondrous!

[THE Ka]

"It's beeftastic!"

Even though beef makes me ill, that was amazing. Rune I don't think we can be friends anymore if you're trying to manipulate my mind with beefy ads.

I loved Paper Telephone! Besides, R is there for a reason, R-idiculously Funny!

~ Ka

[Groin Redbeard]

Hookbill, I enjoyed the story right up until the ending, and the articles where hilarious! Congratulations on your 100th edition of the Downer! Everyone give Hookbill a rep. for a job well done!

[Oddwen]

Holy beef, that is an effulgence of Rune.

I see, however, that the movie "Paper Telephone" had its foodstuffs supplied by A Little Green Beef. This brings to mind a question consisting of words arranged to say "Green beef? Are seven different poisons any worse?".

This was a wonderful edition nonetheless, well worth waiting a hundred episodes for.

Thank you muchly Hooketybill, for going to such great lengths to amuse us even though your RL is awkward right now.




Happy 100th!