TURN TWENTY
Well, everything's going to hell here, so I think I'll just retreat.
“Och! Blimey,” realises
Tesla in a broad Scottish accent,
“It’s only Sean Connery! Whit's fur ye'll no go by ye an’ stuff! Me mammie always wanted to do this!”...Swimming desperately towards Sean Connery - still busy water-wrestling Mother Teresa - to fulfill his mammie’s lifelong ambition, Tesla leaps out of the water like a deranged salmon, planting a big juicy kiss on his national idol!
“Ooh my God!” he swoons as he gets stuck like Velcro to the Scot’s chest hair,
“I nivver realised it would be this good!”Archimedes climbs back on the clayboard, helps McCartney and others onto the board and then heals himself. If the solar laser is in operational state, use it as a laser booster. Otherwise set it up.
...Archimedes does his best to ignore the unfolding horror and climbs once more onto the Clayboard, where he sets about bandaging himself round the face and the arm. He hauls McCartney aboard and sets the heating laser to point to the rear, ready to flee to the river bank.
Shoot forth the White Speedo at Tesla!
”Come on, everyone,” shouts
Archimedes,
“There's no time to lose. Everyone get on the board, let's leave! He’s gonna turn us all into deadly Scots!”“No!” cries back
Davy Crockett as he balances on the floating
Boone,
“We can’t leave Tesla! He’s helped us this far, I think, or at least not fatally hindered us! We’ve got to help him!”“No Davy, it makes no sense!”“You go!” shouts Davy, stripping his trousers off to reveal the shining White Speedo of Lumithos beneath.
“I’ve got the Holy Speedo of Good! Can it save him? Will it mercy kill him? Who knows! But I’m sure it can counteract the virus! I’ll save him if it’s the last – OH GOD NO! I can’t control it! The power’s building up! It’s overwhelming!”...Suddenly Davy Crockett’s groin bursts forth, pulling the brave American forward on Boone like a waterskier towards Connery and the entwined and enamoured
Tesla, still busily wrapping his arms around the muscular torso and taking in great big nasally breaths of joy. The tight white shiny material begins to expand and to glow until a column of angelic noise seems to shoot across the River Volga towards the chest hair-captured scientist. The terrifying holy power of Lumithos touches upon Nikola Tesla’s love-paralysed body, the beam of angelic spirit solidifying in the air. Davy Crockett begins to levitate! He begins to rise upwards above the water as if levered by the power of Good!
Then the flow of power from Crockett to Tesla seems to stall for a brief instant; then to reverse gently; and then, finally, to blast energy in great waves of white from Tesla back to Crockett, the immense power of the Holiest of Old Gods screaming down the column towards the American before in an instant flinging him backwards through the air. The white column of light disappears in an inward sucking flash and a crash of silence seems to envelope the battlefield.
Crockett flies backwards towards the river bank before landing with a dull thud.
...Tesla hangs limp off Connery’s chest.
Suddenly there’s a flurry of splashes rising from the river; the electric polar bear shoots out of the water a dozen metres from the battling Connery and Mother Teresa before sprinting across its surface towards the angry Scotsman, leaping into the air a short distance from his master’s seducer and opening his great gaping maws to rip him from Connery’s terrifying chestforest!
The loyal bear sprints towards the river bank. He shakes the lifeless scientist lovingly in his jaws, expressing the deep love he had never been able to speak. He drops him on the sandy bank. He nuzzles him gently with his damp nose.
Tesla’s dead.
A beam similar to the one that delivered Mother Teresa to earth comes down from an indistinguishable point in the sky, and Nikola Tesla rises slowly into the heavens, arms dangling limply by his side, Tesla Coil still duct-taped proudly to his head.
Wound Acquired: Davy Crockett:
Heavy Arm BleedingTime to skedaddle, mate... like... like a runnin' wallaby, bajeebered out of his pouch, mate! CRIKEY!
“Time to skedaddle, mate... like... like a runnin' wallaby, bajeebered out of his pouch, mate! CRIKEY! It’s all going to pot, fellas! Tesla’s bought it! Let’s get out of here!”...Seeing the life force drained from his companion
Tesla,
Steve Irwin flees from the deadly foe, hoping to God that Mother Teresa can keep them all safe from the chest hair of doom. He doesn’t look back as he swims to the western bank of the Volga.
Paul McCartney sings the U.K. national anthem, in an attempt to make the SCOTULATOR to forget his rage and return his love to a proper love, a love of freedom.
Paul McCartney’s back on board his Clayboard, and needs to act fast! Sean Connery is in a heart broken rage! What he needs is to be reminded of the unity between the British peoples! Yes!
...Doing his best to balance, Paul strums a quick chord to get his pitch right and then bursts into a cheery rendition of… of…
“Oh God no! I can’t remember the bloody words! I can’t even remember the bloody song! Oh, I, OHGODNOIHOPEITSNOTASIGNOFTURNINGSCOTTISHARGGGGGGGGGG!”Suddenly the Clayboard starts to speed up, and a horrific sight fades quickly from view before shooting even quicker back into view!
Use Hypnosis on Sean Connery
“Oh yeah!” cries
Rasputin, staring with his strange beady eyes at Sean Connery.
“Come on, you son of a bitch, look me in the eyes! Yeah! Like that! Now, lick my bleeding guts! Come on! Yeah! Like that! Yeah! Come on! Stop that damn bleeding, you damned angry Stalin-lover! Yeah! OH GOD NO NOT LIKE THAT OH JESUS-”...As
Archimedes and
McCartney speed past the scene below, they could both swear that Sean Connery is one-handedly holding off Mother Teresa whilst furiously tearing off his proud mane of chest hair and stuffing it into Rasputin’s grievous gut wound with a strange glassy glint in his eyes!
“Perhaps, you know, we should save him like?”“It is true, good Paul, he has done us no… well… little... harm, and they say that an enemy of my enemy, and all that…”“Well, yeah, that’s true and all, but, like, I kinda thought we can’t really leave him to that, can we, eh? If Teresa doesn’t banish Sean Connery then he’s going to suffer a fate worse than death, isn’t he? Eh? It just wouldn’t be humane!”“Damn and blast, McCartney, you’re right again! The lasers are heating up, so we’ve only got one shot at this: you turn her round and I’ll lean off the back, tear a strip off my robes, and lasso the poor fellow. We'll drag him to safety!” McCartney banks round over the water spraying up a flash of spume whilst Archimedes rips his clothes to shreds to fashion a crude lasso. The sword-mounted pair trace a large circle over the river before coming in for the approach.
“Coming in for a zero one niner.”“Roger. Readying Rasputin robe-lasso.” “Passing over target in Five.”“Four.”“Oh, BY THE GODS! I’m naked! Abort! Abort! Damn it McCartney, pull up! PULL UP!” “Stay calm, Archimedes! This is it, we can’t pull out now! Three.”“Overpass imminent. Two.”“Oh gods, sorry, man, I’m ready. I’m ready. I’m calm.” “One! Passing over Rasputin now! Lower the clothing! Rasputin! Can you hear? Grab hold! Grab hold before Connery does for you too!”“Rasputin here. I’m grabbing hold!” “Impact!” “Oh shit! We hit it too fast, man, I couldn’t get the speed down! There’s too much juddering coming from the rear. We can’t take the added weight! We’ve taken damage! We’re losing fuel! I can’t keep the damn thing under control! We’re going down!”“Ohshitohshitohshitohshitohshitohshitohshit!” “Brace for impact! Assume crash position!”As the airborne Bowienauts screech past in the air they don’t have time to look back. The duelling pair behind them trade and parry blow after blow.
V.S. 
”Lads,” interrupts David Bowie on the neuradiocommlink,
”Now that you are ashore, you have three choices ahead of you. As far as we can tell from the satellite imagery, there are three routes to the stadium where Marcus is gonna be able to touch down. This seems to be a landing beach for some of the Russians crossing the river, so they’re all defended a short distance from the shore, but some parts seem more defended than others. The northern passage seems to be a 250 yard long ravine with a little barbed wire and a pillbox at the end; we’ve detected enemy movement of some biological source on the southern route. We can’t seem to find anything along the middle passage yet – it’s another ravine about as long as the northern one, but it seems to be empty. Over, dudes, and stuff. I mean, out.”...Suddenly
McCartney and
Archimedes shoot past over the rest of their comrades on the uncontrollably fast flying sword with the hapless
Rasputin dragged behind them, head bouncing up and down across and below the surface of the Volga. With Archimedes struggling with his laser array on the back and Paul McCartney wrestling for control at the front, they storm the beachhead, blasting across the last of the river and up the sandy beach between the steep walls of the rocky ravine. They’re heading directly up the middle passage!
Finally McCartney brings the Clayboard under some kind of control, turning it into a sharp turn and skidding to a halt that flings both him and Archimedes into the sandy ground. Behind them the bruised and soaked Rasputin bounces along to a gentle stop.
McCartney walks over to his flying sword and tries to turn over the engine.
There’s a series of empty sounding grinding clicks.
“Oh, bugger, man. Out of petrol. Blast. Oh well, we’d best go down to meet the lads.”“Noooooooooooo!” Suddenly Archimedes tackles McCartney to the floor!
“No further, Paul! This looks like it could be dangerous or something!”
VITAL STATISTICS OF THE BOWIENAUTS
EFFECTS IN EFFECTNone.
Player: Talarion
Name: Steve Irwin, Level Three Crocodile Hunter
Status: -1 to hearing. -1 to left arm.
Inventory: Khaki Shorts, Mate.
Wounds: [HP:10/75] |
Right Ear Ripped Off! |
Severed Left ArmSkills: Croc Wrestler,
Flying Emu Crocodile Takedown Move,
Croc-rider,
Oh Shit Is That... Player: freeformschooler
Name: Paul McCartney, Level Three Beatle
Status: -1 to athletic movement. -1 to left leg use. +1 to impressing the ladies.
Inventory: Acoustic Guitar,
Speedoguts! Clayboard.
Wounds: [HP:46/75] |
Titanium Guts! |
Right Leg Pimp Limp! |
Severed Left Leg!Skills: The Power of Gentle Loving,
That's a Catchy Tun-arrgh!,
Frog Chorus,
I'm Not a Fighter, Man! Player: Toaster
Name: Davy Crockett, Level Three King of the Wild Frontier
Status:Inventory: Bowie Knife,
Boone,
Facial Protection Catmask,
Miaowskin-facehat, severed left arm (in face),
Doublearmface!,
Nazi Gun Turret,
The White Speedo of Lumithos.
Wounds: [HP:70/75] |
Severed Left Arm! |
Severed Right Arm |
Heavy Arm BleedingSkills: Crack Shot,
Ohio Leap,
MIGHTY TEXAS BOOT,
You May All Go to Hell... Player: 10ebbor10
Name: Archimedes of Syracuse, Level Three Philosopher
Status: -1 to left arm. 1/d6 chance of hacking own leg per turn.
Inventory: A Remarkably Good Approximation of Pi, PPSh-41 Submachine Gun, two clips,
Chinese first aid kit,
M60 Machine Gun.
Wounds: [HP:49/75] |
Bent Left Arm! |
Molested Leg!Skills: Multiply This! Literal Mathemagics,
Archimedes Heat Ray,
Absent Minded! Player: Empfan
Name: Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin, Mystic, Black Monk, and Beard Expert
Status: -1 to right arm. -1 to guts.
Inventory: Philosopher’s StoneWounds: [HP: 12/100] |
Severed Right Arm! |
Severed Guts!Skills: Seductive Hypnotist,
Beard of Power,
Lots of Blood! Noble Haters Gonna Hate! 
Author
Topic: The Magnificent Timelord - Epilogued (Read 249483 times)