Pirates of the Mausoleum
Disclaimer- I do not take credit for the invention of Captain Jack Sparrow,
Snape, Lecter, Fish, or myself. Thank you to Disney, J.K. Rowling, Thomas
Harris, Fish's parents, and my own mum and dad. Oh, and
www.homestarrunner.com for their quotations and endless hilarity.
Scene 1
Trudge, trudge, trudge.how long she had been down here, her feet slip- sliding through the sludge, she could not tell. Looking at her watch, she made it about five minutes. Feeling slightly heartened, she called up the tunnel, "Fish? Fish! Are we nearly there yet?"
"SShhh!" admonished the spiky haired madwoman, who was about 5 metres further on down the tunnel. "Sauron, you must learn to lower your voice!"
"Why?" answered Sauron just as loudly, her voice disgruntled.
"Because we're in the out of bounds sewers. This is a murder scene, REMEMBER? It's illegal for us to be here, and if anyone catches us, I think our investigations will come to a screeching halt."
Sauron snorted in sarcastic laughter, her usual air of carefree madness vanishing. "Our investigations, indeed. You're the Lecter-murder-cannibal- thingy obsessed one, I only came 'cos you threatened to rip up my pictures of Captain Jack. It's your investigation, and I'm not gonna shut up so you can play the little detective."
Fish turned around, her hands contracting as her breath hissed out. "Will you be quiet, you.you.you possum!"
"POSSUUUUUUUUUUUM!" shouted Sauron in a deep, growly voice. "SYRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUP!"
Fish joined in, laughing hysterically. "Thrills, chills, SYRUUUUUUUPPPPPP!!!!!!!!"
"GNOME DANCE!" they both yelled, crouching slightly and waving their arms and torso from side to side, giggling inanely.
* * *
A small, wiry man in a long black overcoat stopped in the middle of the street, the rain beating on his head. He frowned. To his ears there came a sound like two female voices deep underground, shouting, "WHERE'S THE RUM GONE? HAHAHAHA! TROG DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOR!" He shook his head sadly. Maybe he had taken too many of those pills. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he hurried on.
* * *
Down in the sewers, the two friends had fallen quiet again, though they were now walking together with their arms about the other's shoulders, occasionally muttering "Ooooooo-kay.I mean sooooooo good!" to each other and sniggering. Suddenly, at the crossroads of another pipe, Sauron squealed.
"Woah, dude! Look at my foot!"
The aforementioned foot was half immersed in shining strands of gloopy floating blue goo. (Sorry, this is the closest description to it I could write.) While Fish stood transfixed, Sauron wriggled her foot around, making the light shimmer and engulf more of her shoe.
"That's so cool!" breathed Fish, her eyes large as pancakes. (MMM, pancakes!)
Sauron was more concerned with dancing. "Put your right leg in! Your right leg out! In out in out shake it all about!" As she 'shook it all about', however, there was a sudden squelch as the blue substance sucked her in. With a sudden cut off scream of "OHNODAMNITOHGODSHELPOHSHI--" she and the blue mass vanished.
"Sauroooooooooon!" screamed Fish, sinking to her knees in the sludge. "Nooooooooooooooooo!"
At least, this is what she would have done had she thought of it at the time. Instead she merely remarked, "Ooh! Gloopy!"
But now a choice of paths lay before her. Straight ahead, down the dank tunnel, lay the murder scene and the case that intrigued her. A very Lecter- like murder, right here, one with an adventure she could be involved in, and possibly even meet the good Doctor himself! She looked sideways. A glimmer of daylight suggested that this may be the best possible route for starting the search for her kidnapped friend. Kidnapped? she wondered, her brain intervening. Is this the best word? Maybe 'gloopified' better fits the situation. Finally she settled on 'abducted friend'.
Torn, Fish's head swivelled madly from side to side, trying to decide. Should she put her own lifelong fantasy aside to help her friend? Or should she hope that Sauron was strong enough to overcome what was on the other side?
There could only be one outcome.
She did a gnome dance.
* * *
"-it!" finished Sauron, falling over in the sand. Sand? Her eyes lifted, and she saw a long stretch of golden sand, with a sparkling azure ocean gently nuzzling the flawless beach. Suddenly, she heard a voice. A man's voice. A sultry, half-mocking man's voice, very close.
"That's interesting. That's veeeeeery interesting," came the voice.
Sauron's heart missed a beat. That sounded just like.no, no, she had been witness to a huge number of similar hallucinations, admittedly, not with the blue gloop and all, but that taunting voice.every time she had turned in her fantasies, and every time it had been some mirage or something.
Keeping her back to the voice, Sauron called out "It's no use impersonating my favourite pirate, I know you're just a cactus or big sharp spiky talking porcupine trying to make me hug you and get all prickles in my skin."
"What?"
Sauron stuck her fingers in her ears. "I'm not listening! Lalalalala! Don't try and tempt me, I'm not listening to you!"
A shadow fell over her. "What are you on about, love?"
"I'm still not listening to you! Doo doo de-doo!"
"That could start getting really annoying about five seconds ago, savvy?"
Sauron was intensely aware of a presence at her side, and screwed up her eyes so as not to be disappointed again. "Go away! I want to enjoy this beautiful tropical paradise without prickles in me, you damn talking porcupine! Ow! Quit poking me!" It dawned on Sauron that one, porcupines do not have fingers with which to poke, and two, it's unlikely that a talking porcupine would have been let in to the cinema to see Pirates of the Caribbean, let alone be able to do a satisfactory impression. Unplugging her ears, she opened her eyes. And gasped.
There, in front of her, his tanned, fine-boned, slightly amused face hovering inches from her own, was Captain Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl. His eyes were huge, dark, and ringed in thick black kohl, and they stared into hers with a piercing gaze that raped the very depths of her soul. His mouth was firm, his red lips set in a quirky smile below his black moustache, and his dreadlocks hung around his face, making him a creature of light and shadow. His bare neck was the brown of freshly baked gingerbread, and Sauron found herself wondering whether his skin also tasted like it. She couldn't trust herself to speak. All her dreams of this moment involved her doing something quite fierce and risqué now.but there again, she wasn't in the habit of carrying a flexi-ruler and a pint of double cream around on the off-chance she'd meet a fictional movie character. But now he was actually here, she was entranced.
* * *
"I've made the right decision," Fish assured herself aloud. "I've done what only a real human being would do. It takes real depth of character to make the choice I have, it's my moral obligation to do so." It was a shame about Sauron really, but some things were more important than friendship. And meeting Hannibal Lecter was definitely one of those!
She splashed along the tunnel, singing, "I am a mooooooooole, and I live in a hooooooole!" It had been one hour since Sauron had vanished, and the rancid tunnel seemed to stretch on forever. Suddenly her foot, dragging wearily along the floor, encountered a hard object. Fish looked down.
"Woaergh!" she yelled, noticing a prone figure in the sludge. "I am so sorry! Did I hurt you? I trod on your hand! Oh, your poor hand! I really must apolo." She frowned, leaning closer. "Oh, you're dead. And I just wasted all that breath on you. Well at least I have breath to waste, HAHAHAHA!" She started jumping up and down on the dead man's chest, laughing maniacally. "HA HA you're not breathing and I am!" The corpse made unpleasant squishing noises under her feet, and she jumped off it. Turning her head, something caught her eye. She stared at the slimy brick wall. One brick seemed to be crying for attention and she leaned towards it, noticing the strange circle etched upon it. As her perspective changed she realised that it was in fact a big, red button. It could not have been more irresistible if it had the words 'DO NOT PUSH!' in large letters above it.
She pushed it.
Nothing seemed to happen.
Staring at the immobile surface, Fish did not notice the wall behind her rotate outwards and a shadowy figure prepare to strike, knife in hand. Feeling slightly disappointed, she pushed the button again, and with a strangled cry the shadowy figure was caught off balance as the portal suddenly started to close again.
Seeing nothing happen, Fish kept idly pushing the button while she mused, oblivious to the faint retching noises behind her and the grind of a mechanism constantly changing direction. Her thumb pushed the red surface again. Click, click, click, click, click in and out went the button, and Fish, understandably miffed at the lack of result, increased her prodding with renewed fervour.
Behind her a shaky voice cried out, "Stop it! Stop it now! I can't take it any more! Please desist!"
She turned around to see Hannibal Lecter tumble out of the secret portal on weak legs, his face green and his hands clasped to his heaving stomach. He fell to his knees and vomited on the floor. When he looked up a piece of paper was being held out, and a pen offered to his trembling hand.
"Oh, WOW! Dr Lecter, can I please please please have your autograph? It's such an honour meeting you face to face!" He looked into the insanely grinning face framed by spiky hair.
"I didn't know gnomes really existed," he remarked weakly, and passed out.
Scene 1
Trudge, trudge, trudge.how long she had been down here, her feet slip- sliding through the sludge, she could not tell. Looking at her watch, she made it about five minutes. Feeling slightly heartened, she called up the tunnel, "Fish? Fish! Are we nearly there yet?"
"SShhh!" admonished the spiky haired madwoman, who was about 5 metres further on down the tunnel. "Sauron, you must learn to lower your voice!"
"Why?" answered Sauron just as loudly, her voice disgruntled.
"Because we're in the out of bounds sewers. This is a murder scene, REMEMBER? It's illegal for us to be here, and if anyone catches us, I think our investigations will come to a screeching halt."
Sauron snorted in sarcastic laughter, her usual air of carefree madness vanishing. "Our investigations, indeed. You're the Lecter-murder-cannibal- thingy obsessed one, I only came 'cos you threatened to rip up my pictures of Captain Jack. It's your investigation, and I'm not gonna shut up so you can play the little detective."
Fish turned around, her hands contracting as her breath hissed out. "Will you be quiet, you.you.you possum!"
"POSSUUUUUUUUUUUM!" shouted Sauron in a deep, growly voice. "SYRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUP!"
Fish joined in, laughing hysterically. "Thrills, chills, SYRUUUUUUUPPPPPP!!!!!!!!"
"GNOME DANCE!" they both yelled, crouching slightly and waving their arms and torso from side to side, giggling inanely.
* * *
A small, wiry man in a long black overcoat stopped in the middle of the street, the rain beating on his head. He frowned. To his ears there came a sound like two female voices deep underground, shouting, "WHERE'S THE RUM GONE? HAHAHAHA! TROG DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOR!" He shook his head sadly. Maybe he had taken too many of those pills. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he hurried on.
* * *
Down in the sewers, the two friends had fallen quiet again, though they were now walking together with their arms about the other's shoulders, occasionally muttering "Ooooooo-kay.I mean sooooooo good!" to each other and sniggering. Suddenly, at the crossroads of another pipe, Sauron squealed.
"Woah, dude! Look at my foot!"
The aforementioned foot was half immersed in shining strands of gloopy floating blue goo. (Sorry, this is the closest description to it I could write.) While Fish stood transfixed, Sauron wriggled her foot around, making the light shimmer and engulf more of her shoe.
"That's so cool!" breathed Fish, her eyes large as pancakes. (MMM, pancakes!)
Sauron was more concerned with dancing. "Put your right leg in! Your right leg out! In out in out shake it all about!" As she 'shook it all about', however, there was a sudden squelch as the blue substance sucked her in. With a sudden cut off scream of "OHNODAMNITOHGODSHELPOHSHI--" she and the blue mass vanished.
"Sauroooooooooon!" screamed Fish, sinking to her knees in the sludge. "Nooooooooooooooooo!"
At least, this is what she would have done had she thought of it at the time. Instead she merely remarked, "Ooh! Gloopy!"
But now a choice of paths lay before her. Straight ahead, down the dank tunnel, lay the murder scene and the case that intrigued her. A very Lecter- like murder, right here, one with an adventure she could be involved in, and possibly even meet the good Doctor himself! She looked sideways. A glimmer of daylight suggested that this may be the best possible route for starting the search for her kidnapped friend. Kidnapped? she wondered, her brain intervening. Is this the best word? Maybe 'gloopified' better fits the situation. Finally she settled on 'abducted friend'.
Torn, Fish's head swivelled madly from side to side, trying to decide. Should she put her own lifelong fantasy aside to help her friend? Or should she hope that Sauron was strong enough to overcome what was on the other side?
There could only be one outcome.
She did a gnome dance.
* * *
"-it!" finished Sauron, falling over in the sand. Sand? Her eyes lifted, and she saw a long stretch of golden sand, with a sparkling azure ocean gently nuzzling the flawless beach. Suddenly, she heard a voice. A man's voice. A sultry, half-mocking man's voice, very close.
"That's interesting. That's veeeeeery interesting," came the voice.
Sauron's heart missed a beat. That sounded just like.no, no, she had been witness to a huge number of similar hallucinations, admittedly, not with the blue gloop and all, but that taunting voice.every time she had turned in her fantasies, and every time it had been some mirage or something.
Keeping her back to the voice, Sauron called out "It's no use impersonating my favourite pirate, I know you're just a cactus or big sharp spiky talking porcupine trying to make me hug you and get all prickles in my skin."
"What?"
Sauron stuck her fingers in her ears. "I'm not listening! Lalalalala! Don't try and tempt me, I'm not listening to you!"
A shadow fell over her. "What are you on about, love?"
"I'm still not listening to you! Doo doo de-doo!"
"That could start getting really annoying about five seconds ago, savvy?"
Sauron was intensely aware of a presence at her side, and screwed up her eyes so as not to be disappointed again. "Go away! I want to enjoy this beautiful tropical paradise without prickles in me, you damn talking porcupine! Ow! Quit poking me!" It dawned on Sauron that one, porcupines do not have fingers with which to poke, and two, it's unlikely that a talking porcupine would have been let in to the cinema to see Pirates of the Caribbean, let alone be able to do a satisfactory impression. Unplugging her ears, she opened her eyes. And gasped.
There, in front of her, his tanned, fine-boned, slightly amused face hovering inches from her own, was Captain Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl. His eyes were huge, dark, and ringed in thick black kohl, and they stared into hers with a piercing gaze that raped the very depths of her soul. His mouth was firm, his red lips set in a quirky smile below his black moustache, and his dreadlocks hung around his face, making him a creature of light and shadow. His bare neck was the brown of freshly baked gingerbread, and Sauron found herself wondering whether his skin also tasted like it. She couldn't trust herself to speak. All her dreams of this moment involved her doing something quite fierce and risqué now.but there again, she wasn't in the habit of carrying a flexi-ruler and a pint of double cream around on the off-chance she'd meet a fictional movie character. But now he was actually here, she was entranced.
* * *
"I've made the right decision," Fish assured herself aloud. "I've done what only a real human being would do. It takes real depth of character to make the choice I have, it's my moral obligation to do so." It was a shame about Sauron really, but some things were more important than friendship. And meeting Hannibal Lecter was definitely one of those!
She splashed along the tunnel, singing, "I am a mooooooooole, and I live in a hooooooole!" It had been one hour since Sauron had vanished, and the rancid tunnel seemed to stretch on forever. Suddenly her foot, dragging wearily along the floor, encountered a hard object. Fish looked down.
"Woaergh!" she yelled, noticing a prone figure in the sludge. "I am so sorry! Did I hurt you? I trod on your hand! Oh, your poor hand! I really must apolo." She frowned, leaning closer. "Oh, you're dead. And I just wasted all that breath on you. Well at least I have breath to waste, HAHAHAHA!" She started jumping up and down on the dead man's chest, laughing maniacally. "HA HA you're not breathing and I am!" The corpse made unpleasant squishing noises under her feet, and she jumped off it. Turning her head, something caught her eye. She stared at the slimy brick wall. One brick seemed to be crying for attention and she leaned towards it, noticing the strange circle etched upon it. As her perspective changed she realised that it was in fact a big, red button. It could not have been more irresistible if it had the words 'DO NOT PUSH!' in large letters above it.
She pushed it.
Nothing seemed to happen.
Staring at the immobile surface, Fish did not notice the wall behind her rotate outwards and a shadowy figure prepare to strike, knife in hand. Feeling slightly disappointed, she pushed the button again, and with a strangled cry the shadowy figure was caught off balance as the portal suddenly started to close again.
Seeing nothing happen, Fish kept idly pushing the button while she mused, oblivious to the faint retching noises behind her and the grind of a mechanism constantly changing direction. Her thumb pushed the red surface again. Click, click, click, click, click in and out went the button, and Fish, understandably miffed at the lack of result, increased her prodding with renewed fervour.
Behind her a shaky voice cried out, "Stop it! Stop it now! I can't take it any more! Please desist!"
She turned around to see Hannibal Lecter tumble out of the secret portal on weak legs, his face green and his hands clasped to his heaving stomach. He fell to his knees and vomited on the floor. When he looked up a piece of paper was being held out, and a pen offered to his trembling hand.
"Oh, WOW! Dr Lecter, can I please please please have your autograph? It's such an honour meeting you face to face!" He looked into the insanely grinning face framed by spiky hair.
"I didn't know gnomes really existed," he remarked weakly, and passed out.