Sciforums novel that never ends.

"Suddenly the asteroid mysteriously veered off course and went straight into the sun. "

 

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You've been transmogrified!

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So you didn't die after all.

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Yeah?
Are you sure, I might have come back just to haunt you

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(or argue that ghosts don't exist and I should know...)

 

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Thats two hints buster.:bugeye:

Perish the thought?

 

Which?
Me haunting you or me arguing?

 

Umm...yeah?:shrug:

 

:runaway:
Yeah, you love me really.

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I lifted the hat up off my face, opened my eye's. Checking if 'black eye 'd Susan' was still in my holster. She was, her sister Blue Lightning' Betty sitting on the other hip. These 2 ladies were ace high, never letting me down, not once. I got up from the hay I was sleeping on, brushing away the loose strands from my hair. The stables smelled as bad as I looked after a night bending an elbow at the Railway Inn. I was on the run, belly through the bush, among the willows, ducking the law. But the Sheriff 'N' his boys didn't worry me. We we're opposites in status, like Molasses and black powder, He tried to up-hold the law, I tried to hold-up the bank. But we were both dangerous and respected, he went by the name Baron-Max. I'm not sure if it was a double barrel name or not, but does it really matter?, maybe I'm just talking about guns still and lost the plot, literally.

I stepped out of the stable door, kicking back more of that damn hey, The sun was powerfull, with just enough breeze in the air to blow dust in my hung over face. My eye's squinting closed like a crusty barn-yard shutter, I wasn't exactly wearing my best bib 'n' tucker but I felt good, considering my situation anyway. As I walked around the side of the stable i could hear my horse, well it's not exactly mine, this animal is a four legged piece of crow bait. My horse and good friend Sandy, died a few months back, So I got stuck with this beast who used to be called Mr.G, I just call him four flusher. I saddled up and whisttled the crow bait away, I didn't have time to hang around Me 'N Sheriff Max had a date, well he didn't know about it, but me Susan 'N Betty did.


The dirt-track road was a winding sand trail that lead through the town center, I knew the Sheriff needed his daily dose of being soaked by the shine. He can be found at the Railway Inn around sun up, I had a score to settle, he woke up the wrong passenger on a one way train to hell. I slowed the donkey faced beast down with a tug on the reigns. The sheriffs horse was tied up outside the inn, I didnt bother tying up Mr,G. He could hardly run anywhere with those chicken legs, I walked over to the swinging doors, without hesitation I smashed them both aside with one swift motion as i stepped into the bar.

Silence.

The piano man stopped playing just as abruptly as all eyes in the room fixated in my direction, I could feel every single gaze upon different parts of me, I spotted Baron Max knocking back some Who Hit John, with his right hand boy Buffalo Roam, AKA. Mr play the Gallery. He was always shooting' his mouth off about something, they made me sick and today was a day to slap some faces with a hard shooting' glove.

"Well, well...... well. Chi you Bean eater, your not welcome round these parts." Baron Max stood up, trying to stand chest out to impose his position.

I flicked back the right tail of my long coat, exposing Betty's handle and hammer. I was in no mood for small talk, and I haven't smelled gun smoke all morning. I was the fastest quick drawing bad ass this side of Missouri. Buffalo Stood up alongside Baron, Too late, Susie N Betty we're already staring them both in the eye's. Life and Death in the palm of my hands.

" I can choose both of your destiny's, what's it gonna be boys," I used my thumbs to pull back both hammers with 2 click's. they both went to draw there six shooter's, They made the wrong move.

2 loud bangs followed. I gave them both a 3rd eye each, they slumped over the bar and slid onto the floor seconds after. Bottles crashing down around them, I blew the smoke from one barrel, then the next. One glance around the room told everybody to get back to whatever they were doing, I tipped my hat at the piano man then turned tale to walk out, the music started up again before I swung the doors open.

 

its turned into a western now.

peace.

 

That was the problem with visiting Absane: I didn't object to his little excursions from reality, so much as the fact that he tended to take you with him - and give you a splitting headache to boot.

I left Arkham with the rain still coming down and wondered how the competition was doing - were they any closer to the answer? Were they the ones keeping it from me? Why was I putting myself through this?

 

great posts Oli, i enjoyed reading your 40's piece. you really set the scene well.

peace.

 

Thanks Chi. (I dragged it back to the detective though

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)

 

Is it me, or does the entire multi story theme have a collective leslie neilson thing going on?.

its all very naked gun/police squad.


peace.

 

Yup, is there any reason to take ourselves seriously?

 

i need to brush up on my old west lingo, for the next installment.

peace.

 

ofcourse not, its great, i even noticed that my western has strong hints of it aswell. in a western cowboy kind of way.

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peace.

 

The Bone collector

Chapter 2 a bone to pick

She was at work when the news came about the asteroid; a planet killer, and no Bruce Willis around to save mankind. Her colleagues were shocked and couldn't stop yelping about their own doom. She examined them with a murderous stare. None would do though. She had her standards.

She left without saying goodbye. The streets were filled with people on their way to somewhere. Probably going home to be with their loved ones. The urge to go home caught up with her for a second, but she pushed it aside. There would be time later to be with her bones.

She cruised through the mob looking for the perfect fit, the missing specimen, and to her surprise she bumped into him almost immediately. He was talking English with an American accent. That was ok with her, bones do not speak. They speak of course, but not in this crude and false language we use to communicate between us. Bones are shaped to tell their story. Curves and texture. Density and form.

The man was out of his place. A tourist perhaps, or a businessman send out on a now useless errand. A man who could not hope to return to his home. Regular flights had all been cancelled. A man perhaps searching for a few hours of bliss at the end of the world.

She approached the man, looked playfully into his eyes, a smile on her lips. A mischievous smile. His features relaxed. He had seen the opportunity of a lifetime, a very short lifetime, and maybe now a very passionate end to a short lifetime.

He opened up with a flood of questions and small talk which she ignored. He was hooked. She preferred to insinuate not to understand a word he said. He wasn’t after a conversation anyway and neither was she.

Her apartment was far away. Not an option. He might get distracted on the way. His hotel room was nearer. Seize the moment.

No staff was at the reception desk. The American got his own key. He led her to the staircase and she followed him closely examining his body. A slight annoyance started to build up in her. The suite the American was wearing was too loose and could conceal many defects. She tried not to show her emerging disgust, but the American asked her if she was alright. She impatiently waved him forward. Move on, move on.

The American fumbled his keys. It took him three attempts to open the door. Her anger was rising. How could a man be so stupid? She pushed him through the door and guided him to the bed jumping on top of him. She reached for his coat trying to pull it off with all the strength she could muster. She opened the belt, pulled it out with great speed and threw it at the far end of the corner, going straight for the zipper, yanking the pants down.

The American was visibly aroused.

She jumped off him, standing before him, pulling his pants off completely.

‘Oh yeah baby!’, the American shouted.

She was beyond caring. She was focused on her treasure. She went up to him and ripped his shirt open, buttons flying around the room. He himself removed his underpants and stationed himself on the center of the bed looking like a little boy who just discovered his presents under the Christmas tree, with the slight incongruous detail of a hardened penis.

‘Now you’, he said.

She reached for her handbag.

‘No need to take precautions baby! The world is going to end in two days!’

She took out a knife and stabbed it deep into his belly. And once again. Again. Again. And again.

When she left the room he was still alive and very much in pain. It wouldn’t last long. And she would soon be back with some tools.

Her collection would be almost completed. Two more days to find three more specimens. She smiled.





In case you missed the previous chapter.

 

Exactly - and that's the beauty of it.

Absolutely not. Parodies make people laugh. It's not meant to be real real, just funny. Anyway the biggest rube is still Spade.

Anyway, I only killed off Oli to show I was serious. And someone has to die, don't they?

 

Oh yeah - I guess I'm up for a chapter.

 

i like the police squad type humour, its great. indeed people have to die also, i killed off Baron and Buffalo in the first chapter of my installment.

we could have multiple plot lines and stories set in different time lines, then as they progress we could link them all together with a sci-fi element and a time machine. bringing the plot into a single story?, but foe now keep many plot lines open for variety.


peace.