All this time has whittled away Like so many days in one Back and forth the leaders sway Backing it up with guns Superpowers flex their wings Hold the world on puppet strings Egos will feed While citizens bleed That's always the way it goes -"It'll Be A Long Time" by The Offspring Somewhere deep in the Swiss Alps, a tape recorder remembers this: DRACHMOV: I don't see why we can't just spell-nuke it. I mean, it would be so simple and so easy and- MAPLE: And we'd end up releasing far worse horrors. No, we must go into New Haven ourselves, and clean up from within. DRACHMOV: But- STROIKA: Are you questioning Master Maple? DRACHMOV: Well, no, but- STROIKA: That's all I have heard vrom you all day, Drachmov: "But" this and "But" that. A person could come to the conclusion that you had a vetish... (there is a sound here, similar to that of an angry man crushing his glass in his hand) DRACHMOV: WHAT? (someone giggles) STROIKA: Ah, vinally: a different set of sounds. Thank you, Drachmov. (more giggles, followed by the sound of a chair sliding back and hitting the wall) DRACHMOV: Why you- MAPLE: Silence. You too, Madame Stroika. (silence) MAPLE: Good. Now, what were you going to say, Alice? ALICE: There are reports from South America and Africa of strange beasts crawling up the shores and mauling people. In Canada- (MAPLE coughs, and ALICE pauses) ALICE: In Canada winged beasts have landed in airports, requesting to be fueled, and gremlins and imps have been the cause of at least two dozen plane crashes worldwide. MAPLE: Our time is truly at hand, then? ALICE: It would seem so, Master Maple. I am sorry about Canada. MAPLE: It is alright; everything will be righted once we get to New Haven. DRACHMOV: We're not flying, are we? MAPLE: No. STROIKA: Nor are we taking a boat, correct? MAPLE: No. We shall teleport to the nearest town, then drive to New Haven. Kramer will meet us there, as well. (a group grinding of chairs) ALICE: THE Kramer? The Great Sorcerer Kramer of the Ninth Circle? MAPLE: The same. STROIKA: What is he doing in New Haven? And why hasn't he done anything to alleviate the problem? Is he weak or unvocused? Also, is he...vree? MAPLE: He has forgotten all about his powers, though he had the foresight to keep the memory of our address, in case something like this should happen. And yes, Stroika, he is free. (general shuffling) STROIKA: When do we leave? MAPLE: NOW. (ZAP) ()*() Back in New Haven, Kramer felt something like déjà vu flicker across his mind. *strange mutterings and repeated explosions breaking out around him* *great beasts rising up to eat him and lightning cutting them open across the neck* *fire welling from between his hands as dragons rush him from above* All this flooded his head, giving him new insight into wondrous worlds long past or long forgotten. He felt younger, smarter, lighter than air and charged with energy. He grinned with pride. Then he farted and took a nap. ============================================ New Haven -------------------------------------------- when fortune and disaster go on a world tour Scene 2-1: Global Deathworking By Matthew "Zeroin" Maldonado -------------------------------------------- Ned glanced at the sleeping Kramer, then toasted Legion. "To all of you, Leshion, and may yer mutta live another millennium. TO LESHION!" Legion smiled and drained his barrel. "It is good to see you again, Ned. How are things?" "Wellsh," Ned slurred. "Thingsh here in New *hic* Haven are kinda bad right now *hic*. Zombiesh and shamblersh and tremblersh and weird thingiesh with big mouthsh and Harlukia and Jebdorn and *you*, all comin' in outta the woodwork. Shtrange shit, man." Legion nodded as he poured himself another beer. "These things happen, you know. Just a month ago Zimbabwe existed, and now look! It's disappeared right off the map!" "Really, Leshion? When'll it come back?" "Oh, about three months. It does this from time to time. Hey," he grinned. "Is there anything I can do for you? You know: anything?" "Welllllllllllll..." Ned tried to rub his chin and bruised his nose. "*I* don't need anything, but I know a few friendsh who could ushe shome help with Harlukia." Legion's eyes widened. "Really? I was just thinking the same thing. What do you want me to do?" "Welllllllllllll...mebbe if we drank shome more beer we could think of shometin', eh?" "Good idea." ()*() President Patsy scowled out his window, wheat fields filling the landscape. "So you're trying to tell me," he said to General Niemann. "That all this is *fake*?" Niemann, in the backseat next to Stiletto and R.E.D., nodded. "All Kansas crop fields stretch only six miles from any road. That way, any old road-tripper will see only flat, boring landscape, and not our facilities." Patsy stared at him. "You sure know a lot for a guy who's been on the job for only a few hours." He sighed. "So, what facilities are out here? And how come no one ever told me about them?" "We have underground missile silos and missile bases," Niemann continued, his face blank. "And you never knew about them because you didn't have to, until now." "Right." A pause. "What about crop dusters?" "They're all Air Force cadets. It's good training." "Right." Another pause. "Why are we here, again? I think I was smashed offa my ass when you told me the first time." "We're relocating you away from the East Coast and placing you in a safe, secret facility capable of destroying half the world in the blink of an eye." "Cool," Patsy said as he took a swig from a handy bottle of whiskey. "Wake me up when we get there." "Yes, sir." ()*() Marty T. Ideawasgood, flanked on all sides by five Jaws of Death, walked down a cold, dead street in New Haven, wondering what to do next. He was far too frightened, even with his monstrous escort, to head back down the tunnel to the surface; anyway, he was claustrophobic. But on the other hand, he had no idea where to go in New Haven, and he couldn't get through the barrier surrounding it. He looked up, scowling, about to curse aforementioned barrier... "Hey, it's gone," he muttered. "It's gone...wait...oh, hell yes! Jaws!" The Jaws of Death stood at attention, ready to take orders. "Get me out of this town, as quickly as possible!" The lead Jaws of Death nodded and scooped his master into his arms and started running, two other monsters leading the way, two keeping up the rear. Marty cackled, bouncing up and down with every great stride of the beast. He was getting the hell out of New Haven! And that's when the Mole reappeared. ()*() Dirt rained on Marty and his creatures as something big and nasty extricated itself from the Earth. It came out...and kept coming and coming and coming, ripping up the street the Jaws of Death had been charging down. Marty stared up in utter awe and fear as the thing rose to its full height of fifty feet. Parts of it clanked, others squeaked, and some just kept quiet. It was a strange thing, really: for the most part it was made of some sort of chitinous material, robin's egg blue in color and glowing slightly. Bits of machinery were embedded in the chitin; they sparked occasionally. It had four legs, on which it stood like a dog, one dull, eyeless head, and a tail. It was the tail that worried Marty the most, because that was where the drill was. It hung like a scorpion's over the thing's back, weaving to and fro anxiously. The thing looked at Marty, and snarled. "Go the other way!" he screamed at his monsters. "GO! *NOW*!" They ran like hell the other way. ()*() Disaster and Fortune lay in their bed at home, smoking cigarettes and smiling at each other. Catastrophe was sleeping between them. *Ahem*. Disaster, not one to ruin a good thing, decided to take the show on the road and see the world. He had a little more...fun...with Catastrophe and Fortune, then told them to pack their bags. Time to go global. Hi-ho. ()*() Four numbers left in Coltrane Park. ()*() "Now what?" Karen asked. Everyone shrugged and mumbled something. "You're so helpful," she grunted, turning away. "...hey! There's a whole bunch of cars over here! We could jump from one to another to get away!" Everyone looked, nodded brightly, and did just that. "My shoe," Johnny whined as he jumped onto another car. The tremblers growled and disappeared under the ground. ()*() Maple, Stroika, Drachmov and Alice sat in silence in their "borrowed" car. New Haven was a smoky red blot on the horizon, a great big crimson beacon. "Can't we go any faster?" Drachmov complained. "I'll be in my forties before we get there!" "Shut up, Drachmov, or I'll do to you what I did to Morlian," Stroika threatened, holding up a smooth, white hand. Electricity crackled between her fingers. Drachmov shut up. "Thank you. Now, Maple, why do we need Kramer? You told us he is completely ignorant of his past, and thus useless to our cause. What is his purpose?" Maple, who was driving, sighed and brushed back his long brown hair. "He is needed because without his powers, we can do nothing. He is key to the process, the second part of an epoxy of power." Alice nodded. "Kramer had more power than any other in this world; all our magic together would not equal his." She paused. "That might actually be why he chose to forget it all." "Actually," Maple said. "It was the groupies that did it." Everyone stared. Maple was about to explain when one of the proto-hominids burst from the ground, some twelve meters from the road. Several more crawled out of the new hole and followed the first. "Let's go a little faster, shall we?" ()*() The three remaining numbers in Coltrane Park glowed blood red. ()*() The Mole-monster sniffed, making a sound like an air wrench. The city was full of creatures of every type, ripe for the eating. A pack of undead chickens waddled their way down the street, toward the massive mechanical beast. Strangely enough, they didn't *taste* like chicken. ()*() At the bottom of the sea, something huge and neon-yellow stirred, and snorted, releasing thousands of tiny little eggs. Each one was shaped like a little radioactivity symbol, and glowed green. As unsuspecting school of fish watched uninterestingly as the eggs began to hatch. Hi-ho. ()*() Marty, now riding a Jaws of Death piggyback, woke up with a sudden feeling of dread. "We...we didn't go deeper into the city, did we?" The Jaws of Death carrying him grunted an affirmative. Screams of murderous rage echoed in the night. ()*() AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yeah, I know it's short, but I only had two pages until today, the due date, and I was pressed for time. I *could* have done more, but I was too intent on writing the rest of my *book* to work on my chapter much. Sorry, but you get what you get, and that's all that matters. Besides, I start my sophomore year (in high-school) tomorrow. I have to get some *sleep*! At a *decent hour*! I don't know what the hell I'm trying to do with all these new monsters and crap, but hey, the whole point of this story is to bring as much catastrophe to New Haven as possible, and see what happens. So I figure, what da fuck, why not? Concerning going to Scene 2: thirteen acts to a scene seems perfect to me. Whee! Matthew "Zeroin" Maldonado, Pocky-addict and pusher extraordinaire. "Gavok, Gavok, Gavok, that was Zen, this is Tao!" Snrk.