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Post By Manga Shoggoth Thu May 06, 2004 at 11:43:43 am EDT |
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Underneath the Arches | |
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Lunchtime in Soho.
Centre of the film industry, littered with theatres and restaurants, red light district and well-known tourist trap.
All around, the teeming London crowds search for sustenance, a tragically short break from their toil or (in come cases) a break from traipsing round the sights whilst towing spouses and offspring and all the while insisting that we are not lost honey damnit why don't these English people know how to design cities no we don't need to ask directions it's just round this corner STOP POKING YOUR SISTER no we are not going round in circles why do they put these damn tables on the pavement MIND THAT GARBAGE TRUCK why don't they drive on the right side of the road here.
Sitting in a pavement cafe, Ebony leaned back in her chair. One of the joys of being a known regular in the area was that you could take you time over the meal, lightly flirt with the waiters (who in turn can be much more relaxed with you), and count the number of times the various tourists have gone past.
As she sipped her coffee, she ran through her list of things to do today.
She placed a coin on the table (for the bill and a tip), waved at the waiter, and departed on her quest. He waved back. It was always nice to deal with the regulars. Especially the ones who tended to pay in doubloons.
She started to cross the road, carefully looking round the back of a dustcart parked on the roadside. There was a sudden load sucking noise.
The waiter looked up in time to see the dustcart pull away. Funny that. He thought that the rubbish collections took place in the late evening. Judging from the laughter, some of the pavement customers found it even more amusing. Still, he thought, there is no accounting for taste.
There was no sign of Ebony.
Ebony was not at all pleased. She appeared to have been sucked into the back of a dustcart, and had cracked her head on some form of gas cylinder. In the gloom she could just make out that it was a Nitrous Oxide cylinder, and judging by the pipework it should have been feeding the gas into the back of the cart. That is, were it not for the fact that one of the pipes had broken loose, and was poking through the side of the cart, which appeared to suffer from rust-induced trellis bodywork.
The dustcart rumbled through the streets. Ebony tried to find a comfortable position to travel in. Although she could just about see through the rust holes, she could see no point in trying to trace her journey. Besides, her experiences with the Shoggoth had taught her not to worry too much about where (or when) she was.
Eventually the cart went through a series of short turns and stopped. The back of the cart was tipped up and Ebony was deposited down a steep chute into a rather unevenly lit room. In the middle of the room there was a rather old "grab the doll" crane game, and the walls were festooned with hoses.
There was a howl of badly adjusted PA, followed by a loud male voice.
"TESTING. ONE. TWO. ONE. TWO. (ahem) WELCOME, MY DEAR. I AM CROWN PARLOUR, AND THIS IS MY FUNERARY FUNFAIR OF FEAR."
Ebony said nothing. She looked around until she located a rather beaten up camera suspended from the ceiling, and then subjected it to a stare. After a few moments, the voice came back, at a somewhat lower volume.
"Sorry about that. I haven't quite got the hang of the PA system. (ahem). Thank you for volunteering as a test subject for the Funerary Funfair of Fear. When operational, it will service the assassination needs of the very rich, powerful, sadistic and annoyed. Your feedback will help us provide a service better tailored to the needs of our customers. You will be required to proceed through a series of rooms in which a deadly peril resides. If you succeed in negotiating all the perils, you will be freed."
Ebony sighed. She had overheard some of the Lair Legion discussing LWVS (Lame Wannabe Villain Syndrome), but not being a superhero herself, had never expected to see it. This was starting to look like a textbook case.
"What sort of stupid name is Crown Parlour?" she asked.
"All right. I'll think of another one. (ahem) In the game in the middle of the room is a bomb. If you succeed in dropping the bomb down the chute before it explodes the door to the next room will be opened. And just to make it more difficult..."
For a few seconds, water started to pour into the room from the hoses, only to drain straight through the floorboards. Then the flow petered out, to the sound of spluttering over the PA.
Ebony walked over to the game. Sure enough, the bomb was nestled amongst a mass of cheap stuffed seaside prizes. She thought for a moment, wrapped her robe round her hand and smashed the glass on the game with her amulet. She then picked up the bomb and dropped it down the chute. There was an audible click as a door at the far end of the room unlocked and promptly fell off its hinges, followed by a slight tremor as the bomb detonated somewhere underground. She was surprised that it actually went off at all.
As she walked to the door the spluttering ceased. Evidently Crown Parlour had managed to shut the water off at his end.
"How about Happidrome?"
"Sucks."
Ebony walked into the second room. It appeared to be a mock-up of Soho at night, with a lady of the night calling from a darkened doorway.
Although in this case, it appeared to be a shop dummy with a tape recorder and a weak attempt at animatronics. Suddenly it started speaking in an ever faster and more falsetto voice as the tape started to wind itself around its pinch roller. After checking the wrists - just in case it was a Dr Who reject - Ebony put it out of her misery with a swift kick.
"Harbour Lights then?"
"Still sucks. And what is the point of this room? Is anyone in fear of their life really going to go through a darkened doorway with a badly represented mechanical prostitute?" - not that Ebony was particularly in fear of her life, although laughing herself to death was starting to look like an option.
"Hey. The original design was fantastic. It's not my fault its not all that practical."
After a little exploration, Ebony found the next door. It had been painted black to hide it and was painted closed. It required a good thump with the shoulder to get it open, which meant that she overbalanced as she went into the next room. As she stumbled there was a bang and something whistled past her head.
The third room looked like a work of art dedicated to the horrors of war. A number of dummies in khaki fatigues were littered about the floor, the walls were painted with a scene rather like the Somme and a model aircraft flew in a lazy circle, suspended from the ceiling be a piece of string. In one corner lay the remains of a tripod on which a machine gun had been mounted, which had collapsed under the recoil of the first shot. A wire ran from the door to a mechanism that was obviously designed to pull the trigger, but this too had not survived the first shot.
"This..." began Ebony.
"I know." apologised Harbour Lights over the PA. "I had to build the prototype on a limited budget. There's just not very much money available for R&D there days. How about Monte Carlo?"
Ebony located the door and tried to open it. It was locked.
"Can't you think of a sensible name? By the way, this door won't open."
"Sorry."
There followed a series of muffled thumps over the PA, punctuated with a few swear words and a sound not unlike someone crossing the wrong two wires. Eventually there was a click as the door unlocked.
The next room was almost empty. There were two doors on the far wall, both marked "Exit". In addition, there were two dummies dressed up in some form of pseudo-roman armour. The effect would have been better if the breastplates were not so obviously plastic.
"OK, what do I do - fight them to the death?"
"No. These are my guardians of truth and falsehood. One of the two doors leads outside, the other leads to a room with a creature in that will kill you in a way too horrible to contemplate. You may ask one of the guardians a single question to determine which door to use. One of the guardians will always tell the truth, the other will always lie."
"...?"
"OK. I control them both from here, but that's how the trial works."
Ebony suppressed another sigh. This idiot was beyond lame - this had to be one of the best known logic puzzles in the book.
"Right." she addressed the dummy on the left. "If you were your friend over there, which door would you say is the safe exit?".
The dummy on the left slowly raised its arm to point to the door on the right. Then the arm fell off.
Ebony walked through the door on the left. There was a brief gasp of surprise, followed by a terrible ripping noise.
In his control room, Monte Carlo laughed.
"Of course, I might be lying, and have both doors lead into the same room. After all, what is the point of letting my victim get away? Especially after all the effort involved in summoning an Elder Creature for the Certain Death."
He leaned back in his chair, and picked up a comic from a pile next to him.
"Perhaps The Kirsal would be a good name." he mused.
"How about Pier End Amusements?" asked Ebony.
The Kirsal spun his chair round, just in time to see the Shoggoth that was about to engulf him. There was a short, quiet rip.
Ebony picked up the fallen comic and examined the stack.
"Captain Britain?"
Perhaps CSFB would like them, mused the Shoggoth, flowing over her.
And then the room was empty.
Notes for the interested and confused:
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