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The Journal of Sir Mumphrey Wilton, Extract Nineteen: In which Mumphrey takes on the inconceivable Yurt. This could be a really short extract. Thursday, 04-Nov-1999 06:35:37
The Journal of Sir Mumphrey Wilton, Extract Nineteen: In which Mumphrey takes on the inconceivable Yurt. This could be a really short extract. Vlastimock Bogoff was once a simple man, a humble agricultural worker in the Glorious People’s Potato Collective, until that terrible day when he was involved in a nuclear accident and transformed into a rampaging monster with the proportional strength and intelligence of a Russian peasant hut. The inconceivable Yurt became a powerhouse rampager of whom it was said that the stupider he got the stronger he got. This rather splendid history lesson became a lot more serious when one considered that this multi-ton behemoth had just become irritated with me and was expressing the sentiment that “Yurt smash little clock-man into mulch.” And when one considers that the charge on my chronal pocketwatch was rather low as a result of having to assist the young hero DarkHwk against the nefarious mutant terrorist Magnetic Techbird, one can clearly understand that the situation had just becomes somewhat awkward. How exactly does one address an angry semi-sentient piece of architecture? Well, my first reaction was to duck, which was probably a wise move as the Yurt demolished a rather large wall behind me and managed to bring one of the towers of the abandoned supervillain stronghold down on top of him. Not that he noticed it. Clearly not much scope for discussing the situation like civilised gentlemen. Therefore retreated away from the main courtyard of Peter von Doom’s old Equidorean base to lead Yurt away from Asil and the others (the fallen mutant terrorist Magnetic Techbird, and the superhero DarkHwk who’d just clobbered him). Made sure to keep well clear of the tower where we’d left the mutant children that Magnetic Techbird had captured as well. Can’t be endangering innocents. Fortunately this was not on the Yurt’s mind. “Yurt squash little man!” seemed to be the order of the day. And, using the singleminded strategy of walking straight towards me through anything that was in the way it looked like he might well meet his stated objectives. Asil dragged DarkHwk to his feet. “Do something,” she demanded of the armoured adventurer. “Sir Mumphrey is in mortal danger!”. DarkHwk looked up, saw the Yurt, and said a word which was unsuitable for the ears of a young lady. Made a mental note to tell him so later. Assuming there was a later. At the point where I had rather inconveniently run our of doors to duck through and was contemplating the solid wall I was about to become a smear on DarkHwk made a most welcome appearance and flew down to unleash that bright purple-white amulet ray-beam of his. On full power it stung the monster. “Yurt pulp puny statue-man!” Vlatimock Bogoff’s alter ego pomised. DarkHwk flew out of the Yurt’s granite grasp, but was rather taken by surprise when significant chunks of the supervillain stronghold were flung up at him at supersonic velocities. For the second time today poor old DarkHwk got hit by a flying tower. Meanwhile Asil was being rather cunning. Using her ability to be any age she chooses, she assumed the character of one of the gifted youngsters that Magnetic Techbird was assembling to form his mutant strikeforce, the M People. Then she threw water from the now-shattered central fountain over Techbird himself. “Save us, O glorious leader!” she urged him. And the mutant terrorist roused himself, shook his head to clear out the cobwebs, and looked to see what the problem was. Magnetic Techbird is one of the more powerful chappies I’ve encountered. His magnetic abilities were almost enough to restrain the Yurt. His sonics virtually defeated the beastie, certainly hurt. And he almost protected himself against a razor-ridged fist that sent him careening back into the remains of the base he was hoping to commandeer. Then DarkHwk was back, wobbly but determined, wrapping a sort of extensible claw thingie around the huge man-mansion. This might have been a tactical error, as the Yurt was able to grab it and swing DarkHwk round in a wide parabola until he encountered the floor. Poor chap went down hard. I could almost see the little birds tweeting round his head from the lab where Asil and I were sheltering. Y’see, Asil and I had a mission. We were here to raid von Doom’s computers for information about the survey expedition which apparently found bits of a UFO, including the Sempiternus Singularum thingie we’d been racing to reconstruct. Young spiffy and Banjooooo were hunting the assassin who’d killed Hopkins senior (spiffy’s presumably adoptive dad) and wandered off with the vital missing component. Jaimie Bautista was reconstructing the rest of the device using materials we’d found for him earlier. Only thing we needed now was to find out more about the crash itself, and perhaps what this Sempiternus Singularum actually did. So Asil, who understand these things, booted and kneed it or whatever one does to computer systems. It was apparently dossing or something, a technical computer term for an old system that doesn’t work very hard. It hadn’t got any windows, but she was looking for a back door. Reminded me of the sort of gibberish those technical people like Seddings talk back at Wilton Enterprises. Still, Asil’s a bright gel, and they all talk like that when they’re tapping buttons on those typewriter boards, don’t they? I was rather keen to see if this place had any doomsday weapons. After all, it was an archvillain’s stronghold, stands to reason there’d be some doomsday weapons, doesn’t it. Von Doom’s Quebec place was chock full of the things, and he struck me as the sort of chap who was a traditionalist. Asil identified a menu of assault capabilities, so I suggested she power up the killbots. Never seen a timlier use of killbots. The Yurt had just got Magnetic Techbird down and was about to stomp him to Australia when we effectively provided the master of magnetism with a huge amount of metallic raw material. The Yurt was confused because every time he smashed a killbot an identical one took it’s place. And the stupider the Yurt got the stronger he got. Two hundred and thirty killbots in just under a minute and a half is probably some kind of world record. Gave Magnetic Techbird time too recover and use his solid sound rams again, anyway. Asil indicated that she’d downloaded the appropriate information we needed. This apparently means that she’d copied computer files onto one of those floppity disks. Our work here was done. Now we just needed to defeat the Yurt, capture Magnetic Techbird, rescue the kidnapped children, save DarkHwk, and go home. Checked the chronal pocketwatch to see how it was doing for charge – not enough to really timeshift or superage something as big as the Yurt. I did notice however that the old chonometer was registering a very minor dimensional anomaly nearby, presumably something activated by that menu thingie that Asil was fiddling with. Asked my amanuensis to investigate the harsh drive of the computer and see what it was. And that led to the plan. As Magnetic Techbird went down for the last time I called over to the Yurt. “Hello? Large marauding chappie? Over here!” Used the pocketwatch to speed me up enough to avoid the fellow for long enough to lead him back to test lab omega. “Yurt kill!” the big bugger shouted, pounding after me with steps that made me worry for the structural integrity of what was left of the base. “Jolly good, old chap, this way,” I called back cheerily. It was all a matter of timing, but then that’s what the Chronometer of Infinity is all about. I leapt over the dimensional transport platform just as Asil activated it. The Yurt was lumbering across it just as the energy grid became active. There was a screaming noise like the universe tearing and the Yurt seemed to be sucked through a tiny pinhole and was gone. Then, in accordance with established custom and practise, control panels started blowing up. A helpful computer voice announced the base’s self-destruct sequence countdown. All in all not a bad result. DarkHwk was pleased as punch to bring Magnetic Techbird in for trial, although I understand the actual trial will be a bit controversial given that a lot of people think MT actually has a few good points to make. Asil and I were able to arrange with Miss Waltz to ship the children to safe places (not all of them back to less-than-good home lives). Arranged a sort of trust fund thingie to help out. What’s the point of being a millionaire if one doesn’t do a bit of useful stuff when it’s needed anyway? No sign of the Yurt, and DarkHwk’s best guess is that the monster’s been transported to some place called the Dreary Dimension, or, as he put it, the Land of Someone Else’s problem. Asil and I travelled back to Key West where we intended to charter a plane to the Philippines to catch up with young Bautista (and his friends the delightful Tina and the other armoured chappie NTU-150). And that’s where there was a slight hitch on the airfield. Don’t recall much about it. One minute caught a glimpse of some fellow in a trenchcoat and a postal worker’s outfit standing behind me, then I was unconscious and didn’t remember anything at all. Mumphrey |
| The Journal of Sir Mumphrey Wilton, Extract Nineteen: In which Mumphrey takes on the inconceivable Yurt. This could be a really short extract. (Mumphrey) (04-Nov-1999 06:35:37) |
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