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| OLD MESSAGE BOARD | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| OLD MESSAGE BOARD | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Chapter 2: National Trust Commandos | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ����������� Now the hunt was on to find Cribbers. And what a hunt it wasn't. There are only two places that the floppily haired entity known as Cribley inhabits-His house, and Speke Hall. And as the 7th set of random strangers were stealing his bed (as was usual in his almost yokel home), our almost-dynamic duo of McJack and McSean decided to try the Hall. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ����������� This was mistake number two. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ����������� The Hall was undergoing one of its frequent scally, or ARMED TERRORIST attacks. This is totally normal: if it wasn't; it wouldn't be Liverpool. So, mere seconds after being asked for Christmas ticket-cards of some forgetful old dear, armoured doors slid over the exits, and submarine alert sound affects burst from hidden speakers. There were flashing red lights too, so it MUST have been important. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ����������� "I wonder what this means?" commented McJack as they passed a giant flashing sign with the words "Evacuate! Terrorist Invasion!" flashing gigantically on it. Meanwhile outside, five skinheads were lining up the sights on an air rifle, and also a nuke or three. McSean's feet pounded down the Tudor/Futuristic-base-lock-down passages, quickly followed by McSean's legs. McJack ambled casually as usual or maybe usually as casual. Eventually both arrived in the confines of a big oak-walled room, officially known as the Big Oak-Walled Room. Within these confines, they found themselves confined-for three breakaway Islamic Al-Jazeera Skinheads armed with elastic bands and paperclips were charging down the corridor leading to the room, and blocked their only exit. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ����������� "Gosh," said McSean, "those three breakaway Islamic Al-Jazeera Skinheads armed with elastic bands and paperclips are charging down the corridor leading to the room, and blocked our only exit." | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ����������� "I'm sure everyone else has read the sub-plot" replied McJack, and they both prepared for twangy elastic oblivion. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| This did not come. For, lo, at the last second a being with far too much hair dropped from the doorway while anchoring himself to the door edge with his feet and, hanging upside down, continued to burst-fire from an assault rifle that practically materialized in his hands. He was also taking great care not to hit any of the antique antiques in the corridor, while screaming "DEATH TO ALL AMERICANS!" | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| OLD MESSAGE BOARD | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "That'll be Cribley then." | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "Hi!" said an upside-down Cribley, upside-downily. "Don't worry about the SA80-it's standard National Trust Issue so it breaks. A lot." | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "Huh?" stated McSean. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "What the F***?!" reiterated McJack. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "Well, after the 400th scally attack in three years, the National Trust decided to form a commando unit to combat delinquents. It has 32 recruits, 27 of which are on pensions, and since I don't actually earn anything...well, I wanted a job." | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "Giving pensioners rifles...is that such a good idea?" asked McSean. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "No-oo." supposed Cribbers, "We've had 20 casualties from friendly fire already, but the ones who survived...well, just take a look." | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| He gestured at a window, and the posse of three watched as a 74-year old with an umbrella charged wildly screaming at a quad bike, stabbing at the fuel tank and side-flipping away at the last second as the bike exploded. She then proceeded to stab the rest of the ranks of terrorists to the shrieked words of "Daisy, Daisy." | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "Wow." They all exhaled, not looking at the terrorist behind them who'd snuck up on them when they weren't looking. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "Die!" suggested a terrorist who'd snuck up on them when they weren't looking. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "Haiiiiii-ya!" suggested Cribley doing his best forward-flip-kick. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "Wow," said McJack, "I didn't know you could forward-flip-kick." | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| "That's becauseI can't." replied Cribs from mid-air, careening madly through the air before collapsing into a heap of limbs against the wall. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| McSean sighed, and tapped the terrorist on the shoulder. The terrorist turned. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| McSean sighed, and tapped the terrorist in the eye. The terrorist screamed and fell over. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ����������� The now trio of troubadours went to walk through the exit as the sirens started to gargle soapily to a close, with a grinning Cribbers staggering uncertainly to his feet. They walked (or in Cribbers case, staggered) down the drive, leaving the smoking Tudor Super-Villain Style Base behind | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ����������� "How many bones do you think you broke there?" McJack joked. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ����������� "Oh, about...three," replied McCrib in total seriousness, "Could one of you guys call an ambulance?" | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| >>>CHPT. 3 TO FOLLOW<<< | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||