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Underground > Creation >

Cart first, then Horse

17:30 / 17.12.02

Inspired by LMRosa's thread, I fancied attempting to construct a tale from finish to start. Probably been done before. Not by me though...

* * * * * * *

He blazed her a look of shrivelling contempt and, still clutching the fretful guinea pig in his one good hand, he flicked the switch.
THE END

17:45 / 17.12.02

Then there was an explosion of noise, a boom of sonic madness as the doors were split apart. In the settling dust there stood the dashing figure of Darcy Farquar, eyes glittering, Ronald beside him, his hand resting neatly on his sword hilt.
"Darcy!" breathed Petunia, her gown glittering in the half-light. "Darcy darling, don't do it!"

18:07 / 17.12.02

"OK, OK, I've done it!" shouted Darcy as slammed down the lid of the cruise missile's guidance computer. He and Ronald heard the engine spin down as the two of them, trapped together in the space behind the fuel tank, felt gravity pull them down towards Petunia's winter palace. The wind roared against the thin bodywork.
"As long as that hamster has chewed through the warhead cable, I reckon we stand a chance," said Ronald. Darcy held his gaze, eyes glinting in the torchlight.

20:25 / 17.12.02

Darcy left the rodent gnawing at the cable, then he and Ronald looked a last, lingering time into each other’s eyes until Darcy whispered, “Let’s roll…” They broke cover and, surprise on their side, set about bludgeoning and decapitating the crew with whatever came to hand. Within two minutes it was over, the crew dead at their feet, Ronald with a nasty gash to the forehead and Darcy helping him into the crawlspace behind the missile’s tank. They should be flying over the palace any time now and Darcy had control of the missile, or would have as soon as he remembered the password to log on to the guidance system. Not Hal_9000, not Daisy_Daisy… Not Blue_Danube, it would have changed at midnight… Ah, “GOOD_MORNING_DAVE” !

21:03 / 17.12.02

(Previous attempt here. Now please continue.)

08:02 / 18.12.02

'Floor 2' chriped the elevator. 'Doors open'.
"Dash it!" swore Darcy, his eyes glaring accusingly at the small row of lights above the elevator doors. "They've got it at floor two."
"They'll be here any moment!" screamed Ronald.
"Hold up old sport, and hand me that crowbar."
Darcy set to work with vigor, ramming the metal rod into the split between the doors. Beads of sweat collected on his forehead as he strained himself against the hydraulic presses. Ronald scampered over to assist, throwing his weight against the bar and forcing the doors open a little.
'Floor Two. Doors closing' chattered the voice.
Slowly, very slowly a split occured between the metal sheets. Then the split became a crack, the crack a gash, and soon they were pushing what remained of the unresisting doors back into the wall.
"The cable!" snapped Darcy. "We must break it."
He tore his glare down to their guinea pig, then back up at Ronald.
"But he's tried before," said Ronald, pointing to the half-gnawed cable. "And failed!"
Darcy glanced down at the small fuzzy creature in his hands and said...

Our Lady of The Two Towers

09:23 / 18.12.02

"Ah, I'm almost out of bull- Aw shit!" Exclaimed Darcy as he followed Ronald to the elevator. He threw away the useless lump of metal and drew out his sword. As had been prophesised, it came to this. He kissed the blade, remembering all that he'd gone through, to reach this place, this moment.
"Hold on!" Ronald said, nervously tapping the 'lift call' button with one hand while with the other trying to stop the hamster from escaping his pocket. Behind him Darcy hacked and slashed as best he could.
Suddenly there was a 'ding!' and the doors smoothly slid open.
"Ground floor. Doors open." Said a synthesised female voice. They dove into the lift.
"Where now?" Asked Darcy.
"The lower levels are infested," Ronald broke off as Darcy thrust his sword into a mishapen head. "We have to go right to the top!" Something grabbed the blade, trying to pull the sword from Darcy's grip.
"Hit it!" He shouted. Ronald pressed the button and as the doors whisked shut Darcy pulled hard, and the offending arm got crushed in the door. There was a scream, muffled and brief.
"Here we go!"

16:54 / 18.12.02

Once they had re-entered the atmosphere, it would be 15 minutes and 50 seconds precisely until they overflew Petunia’s winter palace, so Darcy and Ronald only had to pass unnoticed among the Ignatian crew for that short period before launching themselves and the stolen cruise missile earthwards. Thank the good Lord the Ignatians came into the category of Star Trek aliens with forehead prostheses and they only had to wear the stolen black and gleaming pvc uniforms with those ugly false brow ridges to give the necessary Neanderthal look. That and keep their mouths shut since the bleeps and whistles of the Ignatian tongue would be impossible for them to fake.
Reading each other wordlessly, both moved unobtrusively towards the elevator, bound for the missile launch bay. Almost there, beginning to sweat just a little with the tension, and Sod’s Law was manifested. Ronald’s false forehead was unpeeling. His furrowed brow and tense perspiration was unsticking the gum and, with the slap of a pork chop falling from a great height, his disguise met the floor.
Cries of “Tezcat!” and “Lipoka?” reverberated round them, as the Ignatian crew reached for their weapons. They didn’t have time to waste, so both men were spraying bullets immediately and, within fifteen precious seconds, seven Ignatians were bleeding their watery pink arterial blood all over the floor. Darcy thanked his friend, the good Lord, once again for the discrepancy in gravity which rendered the Ignatians so slothlike in Earth’s atmosphere. But they had a mission to accomplish and Ronald was getting on with it.

19:32 / 18.12.02

Darcy put the alligator to one side and looked quizzically up at his friend.
"I don't," he said indignantly. "Anyway, it's simple. We walk through and wait for the dropship to release."
Ronald grasped Darcy suddenly, pulling him back from the metal sheet which stood between them and the crew of the Brass Monkey.
"Don't," he hissed. "Our disguises aren't good enough. This ridge is practically coming off. And nobody is going to believe that's your real nose."
Darcy assured him it would be fine, but Ronald seemed unconvinced. He'd been nervous about the Ignatians ever since he'd learnt they worshipped the dark god, Xoc - bringer of death and cramp in the knees.
"The dropship will be leaving in moments," whispered Darcy, slipping his sword back into its sheath and reaching out for the door control. "And this broom cupboard is getting cramped. I'm going. With or without you..."

13:55 / 22.12.02

The alligator, the guinea pig, the hamster and the Robin Redbreast all looked yearningly up at Darcy and Ronald. The voice of the Director squawked from the tinny speaker. “Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to stow-away aboard the ship the Ignatian pirates have captured, as it approaches the Earth. You will use one of the Brass Monkey's own missiles to wreak havoc at Petunia’s HQ and thus end her evil plan to assist the aliens in dominating Planet Earth. This recording will self destruct in two minutes, unless you press save as, now…”
The two humans acknowledged their intention to go forward with this dangerous and desperate plan with a quick nod of the head. The guinea pig urinated in fright. The hamster continued gnawing, apparently oblivious, on Darcy’s boot heel. The alligator was the most nervous, surprisingly, and quite forgot herself, in the heat of the moment. With one jittery thwock of that hefty tail, she crushed the robin to death. “Shit,” said Darcy, “we were relying on the robin’s ability to bob-bob-bob-along to keep us live, love, laugh and be happy. You’ll just have to tell us some alligator jokes to keep our spirits up, Agent Gator. Come on then, we’ll take all three of you,” In his stentorian basso profundo, he added, “After all, you three are our most highly trained anti-alien animal operatives. Could always use you for food if the larder at the Winter Palace is bare.”
Darcy and Ronald stuffed a rodent each in one pocket and Darcy downsized their reptile companion with his Miniaturising Raygun and lodged it under an epaulette. Then all five entered the Quantum Potentiator Chamber which, in a nanosecond, blitzed them into a broom cupboard on board the Brass Monkey.

The Photographer in Blowup

14:56 / 22.12.02

Man, my idea was really abused :+)

I never said doing a story from finish to start, like Memento or something.

I meant that we should know our ending before delving too deep into the book, so we should know where we were heading with the story, so that we could control the story better by weaving all loose ties together at the end, and avoid plot mistakes

That was all.

08:55 / 23.12.02

Indeed! I am shocked by my intellectual piracy. I should be ashamed. :+)