CONTESTANT NUMBER TWO - CLIVE!
------------------------------
Viktor cleared his throat, and rose to his feet.
"It seems the stage is set for our next contestant. Clive, step forward please."
From seemingly out of the shadows (quite an impressive stunt, since there were none) came a man shrouded in a dark cloak. The clink of metal was heard as he approached the stage, wearing a darkly stoic look on his face.
"This is going to be a waste of time," said Clive, "But I'll try and give it my all."
Flik nodded approvingly. "He sounds determined."
"Clive, you may begin when you are ready," said Viktor, as he sat in his chair once more.
"I know that."
Without further conversation, the bounty hunter slammed a large hunk of dough upon a table and began to press it firmly with both palms of his hands. Within moments the dough was flat and circular.
"Hey, I think he's making pizza," said Viktor, nudging Flik.
Flik rolled his eyes.
"How long did it take you to get THAT idea?"
By this time, the dough was safely in the oven. Clive was now mixing tomato sauce with small, green herbs and red peppers. Meshing it together, he tasted a bit with his finger. Seeming satisfied, he dipped the tasting finger into a nearby bowl of water, and dried it with a small cloth near the bowl.
Flik nodded approvingly. "He's sanitary, too."
"Muku!"
The gunner turned cook peered toward the depths of the oven. He grasped the handle, but quickly drew back, gasping in surprise. The sound of sizzling meat was heard briefly, but quickly faded.
"Uh oh. It's 'that' oven," said Flik.
Hero frowned worriedly, looking from Flik to Clive.
Flik frowned, muttering, "That oven hasn't been working right for a while. The handle gets too hot to open eventually. Who was checking the hardware for this contest?"
Viktor blinked, realizing quickly what he had forgotten to do the other day.
"Uhh... well that doesn't really matter now does it we really have to just let him fend for himself for now and then maybe we'll give him a retry later but now since his turn is already underway we really shouldn't interfere or point fingers because we really should be judging!"
"...Riiiiiight," responded Flik dryly.
"Muuuuku..."
Hero raised an eyebrow and scratched his head, but appeared to be as unassuming as usual.
Clive cursed beneath his breath.
"That's it... no oven is going to get the best of me."
With a click, Clive's large rifle slid above his arm and beneath his armpit, and he began to line the crosshair of the barrel with the oven door.
People began to cry out in dismay, and chaos was ensuing.
Viktor and Flik's eyes widened, and they both exclaimed "Oh crap! Everyone get down!"
Hero appeared aghast at the sudden panic, ducking beneath the table.
With a high pitched "Muku!" Mukumuku the flying squirrel hopped into the air, and made a small "boink" noise as he landed upon a windowsill, ready to evacuate at a moment's notice.
Electrical sparks begin to fly from the business end of Clive's rifle as he prepared a rather large (and therefore devastating) shot for the traitorous oven.
"Eat this, you piece of junk!"
With a large shriek, the gun fired a massive shot into the oven. The sheer force of the shot created a shockwave which rattled benches, knocked over dishes, and threw members of the audience still standing backward upon their backsides.
The flash from the rifle blinded all who beheld it, and for an excruciating few seconds all that existed within that room was bright blue light, and a deafening boom as the shot made contact with the enemy known as the oven.
***
For a long time afterward there was silence. Smoke filled all but the edges of the room. People could be heard mumbling in anxiety and terror.
Slowly, Flik raised his head from behind the upraised judge's table.
"Man... that was one heck of a shot..."
Viktor jumped to his feet quickly, grinning in his bearish manner.
"It wasn't really all great. I could have taken that shot easily."
From out of the ocean of smoke, Clive appeared, aiming his rifle at Viktor.
"Want to test that out, you lousy excuse for an equipment inspector?"
With a bewildered yelp, Viktor backed away, holding his hands palms outward in a protective manner.
"Uhhh...! No, nothing, I didn't say anything. And anyway, weren't you going to... err... shoot the stove anyway? Surely a great chef like you would know it... would spice up the dough."
Clive narrowed his eyes, sliding the rifle back into his cloak.
"You're partially right... I'm not all that good of a cook anyway."
That said, the bounty hunter exited the room just before the clearing of the smoke. When all was visible, it appeared that the only casaulty of the explosive shot was a defective oven.
Viktor fell back into a chair, letting out a long sigh of relief.
"That was close... bring out the next contestant when things are cleaned up again."
Hero nodded, taking his seat uneasily. Flik sat without a word, surveying the damage done by Clive's rifle with dissaproval.
Hardly anyone noticed the stealthy "boink" and the landing of a particularly skilled flying squirrel upon a simple wicker chair.
-TO BE CONTINUED-
------------------------------
Viktor cleared his throat, and rose to his feet.
"It seems the stage is set for our next contestant. Clive, step forward please."
From seemingly out of the shadows (quite an impressive stunt, since there were none) came a man shrouded in a dark cloak. The clink of metal was heard as he approached the stage, wearing a darkly stoic look on his face.
"This is going to be a waste of time," said Clive, "But I'll try and give it my all."
Flik nodded approvingly. "He sounds determined."
"Clive, you may begin when you are ready," said Viktor, as he sat in his chair once more.
"I know that."
Without further conversation, the bounty hunter slammed a large hunk of dough upon a table and began to press it firmly with both palms of his hands. Within moments the dough was flat and circular.
"Hey, I think he's making pizza," said Viktor, nudging Flik.
Flik rolled his eyes.
"How long did it take you to get THAT idea?"
By this time, the dough was safely in the oven. Clive was now mixing tomato sauce with small, green herbs and red peppers. Meshing it together, he tasted a bit with his finger. Seeming satisfied, he dipped the tasting finger into a nearby bowl of water, and dried it with a small cloth near the bowl.
Flik nodded approvingly. "He's sanitary, too."
"Muku!"
The gunner turned cook peered toward the depths of the oven. He grasped the handle, but quickly drew back, gasping in surprise. The sound of sizzling meat was heard briefly, but quickly faded.
"Uh oh. It's 'that' oven," said Flik.
Hero frowned worriedly, looking from Flik to Clive.
Flik frowned, muttering, "That oven hasn't been working right for a while. The handle gets too hot to open eventually. Who was checking the hardware for this contest?"
Viktor blinked, realizing quickly what he had forgotten to do the other day.
"Uhh... well that doesn't really matter now does it we really have to just let him fend for himself for now and then maybe we'll give him a retry later but now since his turn is already underway we really shouldn't interfere or point fingers because we really should be judging!"
"...Riiiiiight," responded Flik dryly.
"Muuuuku..."
Hero raised an eyebrow and scratched his head, but appeared to be as unassuming as usual.
Clive cursed beneath his breath.
"That's it... no oven is going to get the best of me."
With a click, Clive's large rifle slid above his arm and beneath his armpit, and he began to line the crosshair of the barrel with the oven door.
People began to cry out in dismay, and chaos was ensuing.
Viktor and Flik's eyes widened, and they both exclaimed "Oh crap! Everyone get down!"
Hero appeared aghast at the sudden panic, ducking beneath the table.
With a high pitched "Muku!" Mukumuku the flying squirrel hopped into the air, and made a small "boink" noise as he landed upon a windowsill, ready to evacuate at a moment's notice.
Electrical sparks begin to fly from the business end of Clive's rifle as he prepared a rather large (and therefore devastating) shot for the traitorous oven.
"Eat this, you piece of junk!"
With a large shriek, the gun fired a massive shot into the oven. The sheer force of the shot created a shockwave which rattled benches, knocked over dishes, and threw members of the audience still standing backward upon their backsides.
The flash from the rifle blinded all who beheld it, and for an excruciating few seconds all that existed within that room was bright blue light, and a deafening boom as the shot made contact with the enemy known as the oven.
***
For a long time afterward there was silence. Smoke filled all but the edges of the room. People could be heard mumbling in anxiety and terror.
Slowly, Flik raised his head from behind the upraised judge's table.
"Man... that was one heck of a shot..."
Viktor jumped to his feet quickly, grinning in his bearish manner.
"It wasn't really all great. I could have taken that shot easily."
From out of the ocean of smoke, Clive appeared, aiming his rifle at Viktor.
"Want to test that out, you lousy excuse for an equipment inspector?"
With a bewildered yelp, Viktor backed away, holding his hands palms outward in a protective manner.
"Uhhh...! No, nothing, I didn't say anything. And anyway, weren't you going to... err... shoot the stove anyway? Surely a great chef like you would know it... would spice up the dough."
Clive narrowed his eyes, sliding the rifle back into his cloak.
"You're partially right... I'm not all that good of a cook anyway."
That said, the bounty hunter exited the room just before the clearing of the smoke. When all was visible, it appeared that the only casaulty of the explosive shot was a defective oven.
Viktor fell back into a chair, letting out a long sigh of relief.
"That was close... bring out the next contestant when things are cleaned up again."
Hero nodded, taking his seat uneasily. Flik sat without a word, surveying the damage done by Clive's rifle with dissaproval.
Hardly anyone noticed the stealthy "boink" and the landing of a particularly skilled flying squirrel upon a simple wicker chair.
-TO BE CONTINUED-