Entry #569876, added on 10-22-08 @ 9:56 am EDT
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| Operation Beat the Banker - Part II | Entry #569876 |
Luckily, it was Fish Market Day in the City of Luxembourg. This meant that The Clown fitted in easily and Al (infamous drunken Russian spy and new best friend to the Fulcrum of Evil: Me) fitted in like an infamous Russian spy.
We'd lost Bonde as soon as he bounded off the Acme Jet in full camouflage fatigues; he cunningly blended in with the LuxAir hostesses. Al, The Clown and I set out on our different missions in the hope to find our common enemy: Blubell.
It had been seven years since the camp, and immaculately tailored, European spy, had been seen; he was a master of disguise. He would pay, for the pain he brought to me. Jonny Seven-ways had disappeared too, but that was a different story...
"You're arching you're eyebrows, again." The Clown whispered under her breath as she left me for the financial sector of the Government District. Al had already become indistinguishable from a group of corporate insurance underwriters, which left me to explore the Bock Casemates. I lowered my eyebrows.
I have to admit, I felt quite at home. I really did miss the rocky-womb of my Caribbean lair, and the Casemates were the kind of labyrinthine tunnels that I was aching to link the missile silos with, back at the island.
"Don't turn around," a voice urgently whispered, and I automatically turned around. "For pity's sake, Acme! Ohh, you haven't changed much! Well, I mean to say, not much for the years that have passed. Obviously, you have changed a bit - the 'fro, the black silk - Is that a nu-wave goatee? You have changed. Still the same height, though. So, you've changed and remained the same!"
I peered into the shadows, at the outline of the most indecisive person on the planet; Jonny Seven-ways. It was as if his own parents had been unsure as how to build up his gene base, making a most interesting specimen of 'humanity'.
"Still, erm... still being you then, Jonny?" I ventured as he lead me at weapon point out of the public Casemates and into the less trodden warrens. "Still on the wrong sides?"
"Actually, no. Well, sort of. Yeah. Who knows?" he laughed. "What I do know is that you got Luxembourg all wrong - Blubell is just using it as a front for his own ends. This time it's personal. He wants you."
"Well, then bring it!"
"I am! Not really; he is. But I could! Bring it, that is. If I wanted. I guess that I am 'bringing it' - if 'bringing it' is bringing you to Blubell..."
I thought about escaping. After all, Jonny would take all day to work out how (and if) to give chase. Not only was that abusive to the Decisively Challenged but, I needed to end this thing with Blubell. And there he was! Right around the next corner, my nemesis. He didn't even try to look short. Perfectly quaffed hair, on perfectly broad shoulders. Perfectly tanned, honed and squeezed into dashing, black leather pants, which looked perfectly cool. Bastard.
The tunnel had broadened out into a brilliant lair. Even the magma had cooled to leave high class crystalline structures in the rock face. Whereas I had 'Snappy', my pet 'gator; Blubell had two exquisite Snow Leopards. I had the fiscally endowed Clown - he had the physically endowed Accountant. I satisfied myself with the knowledge that he couldn't get better looking women into bed than me - mainly due to him being gay, but he read my mind. A blushing Al, appeared in a towelin robe and, with a shrug, draped himself over the shoulders of Blubell.
"How could you?" I asked. My voice faltering with betrayal.
"Look, it was just a bit of fun... and, he's not as bad as you think!"
"What would Snappy say?"
I noticed a flicker of shame as he pulled back his hand from petting 'Snow-wolf-worrior-queen'.
"You can put down the gun, knife, rope, sword, ham-sandwich and potato peeler, now, Jonny," Bluebell patiently instructed, "I don't think that Acme will try to escape."
He minced over to a Lazar cutting table (the mark 7, Imploderator - I'd only got the mark 3; if I got out of this alive, I'd be having words with Bill Gates). There, strapped by her over-sized shoes and comedy wig, was my Clown! This really was going too far and I threw him an indignant pout.
"What do you want, Bluebell?" I growled.
"You know what I want - The Dali Package."
Now, that floored me. I really didn't have it, as 'Operation Melty-Clock' had gone horribly awry, when my girlfriend, Kitty-Kat, had run off with...
"BONDE!"
"Hamish? He's here? In Luxembourg?" Bluebell squealed, with ill disguised delight, and pushed past, the cruelly used Al, to send for his Henchmen.
Oh, I wish I had taken photos! Philip and the lads would never complain about their QVC jumpsuits again; not after Jean-Paul Gaultier had done a line of villain wear like these guys were forced to don.
Jonny was still deciding where to store his weapons arsenal safely, when I began to notice Al. This mountainous Russian was expanding before my very eyes. Like a volcano of a man, Al's drunken reasoning was beginning to process the quick turn in events. We'd all been had by Bonde and Bluebell - and worse; he'd been thrown aside like some flimsy trifle.
With a roar of defiant anger, he jumped onto the back of 'Snow-wolf-worrior-queen', who was not happy about this turn of events. Clicking his tongue and digging his heals into the Snow Leopards sides he tried to aim the angry feline after the retreating playboy. Angry feline was more concerned with large Russian; Al was jettisoned into a fantastic arch and landed on Jonny Seven-Ways, who's concealed fire power went off.
The cross-bow bolt emerged from between his legs at a fantastic speed; missed the angry leopard, and stuck the Lazar arm on the Mark 7 Imploderator. This in turn, spun round and struck the 'Self-destruct' button on the beautiful Lair's control panel. The control panel sparked; sent a splinter of sharp metal arching back through the air to land, neatly embedded in the table surface where The Clown would have been (if Jonny hadn't exploded and shook her free of her shoes and wig).
"Well, well, well!" I felt compelled to say, as we all ran, hell for leather, down the casemate tunnels, with a confused Snow Leopard, normal looking Clown and a flashing Russian with his bath-robe billowing softly behind him. "It looks like there might be another installment to this tale?"
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