Frank and the Rats
This is what happens if you let me loose on a MUD when in a whimsical mood. I'm running me, the rats and Alf and Alf. tc's running himself and Frank. It all started when we were discussing some happening in the news...
The Ozzard of Wiz is *so* out of date
The Ozzard of Wiz turns into a dinosaur, but not a purple one.
Poppybarker marks Ozz at half price for a quick sale :)
The Ozzard of Wiz sits at the side of the counter in the 'reduced for quick sale' basket.
A passing rat buys Ozzard for 1 drogna and gets stuck trying to fit him through the rat-hole.
Two more rats in overalls come out of the hole with saws and try-squares, and set about sawing a larger hole in the skirting.
Kookie Ky suggests to the rats to cut the problem into more managable chunks
Frank fetches his sawnoff
One of the rats eyes the Ozzard speculatively.
Frank creeps 'round the bar
The Ozzard of Wiz sees Frank and runs!
BLAM BLAM!
Frank says "Die you little critters!
[Somewhat later...]
A rat-sized tin hat looks round cautiously from the smoking ruins of the rat-hole, now somewhat larger and with ragged edges where the shot has blasted it.
A small tube pokes out from the rat-hole.
Mariposa says " frank, you really oughta set some traps or something"
tc says "funny you should mention that"
A rat-sized tank careers out of the hole and heads towards the bar, RC-car-powered engine racing at full revs.
Frank is too busy daydreaming
PPP OOO W W P P O O W W W PPP O O W W W P O O W W P OOO W W
Magpie sb grins.
tc giggles
The Ozzard of Wiz looks out cautiously from behind the fireplace. "Uh... Frank?"
Frank is blown clear across the bar and disappears in the smoke
tc looks behind the bar
tc says "He doesn't look good"
You say "He never does."
tc says "well, that's true"
tc says "but i dont think he had those twitches before"
The Ozzard of Wiz looks round for the rats, and hopes he's seen the last of them. "Last I saw, they went thataway - out of the door with one of them chalking a human figure up on the 'kills' section of the tank."
Frank climbs up from the floor. Bleeps a little, twitches a lot, and attempts to speak. "Hell ... Hell .... Helllllllll ... Oh hell."
tc books Frank in for a service, "Hello, is that Bots'r'us? Yes, i've got one part-worn bot i need to have examined? You can? Oh super! Right, i will. Thankyou. Goodbye."
The Ozzard of Wiz hears the sound of a turbo-charged RC car engine and makes a reflex grab for the floor as a scale model of a Sherman tank weaves into view, balanced precariously on one track with the rat commanding it manning (OK, ratting) the main gun and the driver aiming directly for tc's car.
The Ozzard of Wiz curls up into a foetal ball at the squeaked command of "Fire!" from outside. After the massive explosion, the dust, the sound of falling masonry and the scream and squeak of the miniature tank getting away, he looks out into the car park at the mortal remains of tc's car.
Two blokes in oily overalls with badges saying "paramechanic" rush through the door with a stretcher made from an old tarpaulin and a couple of Mini sub-frames. "Where's the patient?"
tc points sadly at the car beyond the hole in the wall ...
One of the two whistles. "OK, Alf, let's get to work."
You hear voices from outside.
"Spanner."
"Spanner."
"Oil drip in."
"Oil drip in, check."
"Trolley jack."
"My name's Alf."
"No, you idiot, get the trolley jack under there."
"Oh."
The Ozzard of Wiz sighs. "Sorry, shouldn't have got the clowns in."
tc grins
There is a sudden cough from outside, then the rhythmic clatter of an engine running - roughly and with the occasional backfire, but it's running.
Alf comes back in, and jerks an oily thumb over his shoulder. "She'll live. Don't push her for a few weeks... well, not unless she stalls anyway."
tc says "Right-oh, Alf. Cheers mate. Erm ... i'd offer a drink, but i don't think the barmans up to it."
Frank bleeps and whirrs and falls over
Alf ponders. "Want us to take a look?"
Alf whistles piercingly. "Oi! Alf! Get in here - got another job!"
The Ozzard of Wiz blinks. "Alf and Alf?"
tc says "well, at least they wont forget what they're called"
Alf looks surprised. "Yeah, that's how we split the money. How'd you guess?"
The Ozzard of Wiz sighs. "Call me psychic. Actually, call me anything, but call me a different set of paramechanics next time."
Alf and Alf set to work on Frank, after a whispered conference and a hurried trip out to the van to get something.
Frank's internal LED's flicker.
The Ozzard of Wiz peers over the paramechanics' shoulders. "Oh, c'mon. The Haynes manual for the Mk I barkeeper?"
Frank pulls a face, but he isn't sure which. "Mark ... Mark ... Mark ... Mark... "
Alf nudges Alf. "Hey, see that? Musta guessed right when I soldered that wire back on."
Alf points at the book and raises an eyebrow.
Alf reaches where the sun doesn't shine and presses a button.
Both Alfs stand back expectantly.
The Ozzard of Wiz watches Frank. "What're you guys expecting?"
Frank raises one arm in the air
tc says "You fools! You've wired him up in bandit mode!""
tc pulls the arm
Frank says "I'm the one-armed bandit", his other arm dangling one last wire.
Frank eyes light up and change to black and black.
Frank says "Well done. You've won 100 drogna!" and pays out accordingly, over and over and over!
tc exclaims "switch him off, he's costing me a fortune!"
You exclaim "Bloody hell, that's the first time any money's ever gone out from this bar!"
Alf reaches over and pushes the soft-off switch.
Frank slumps
The Ozzard of Wiz checks Franks's plate. "Uh... guys... you do know this one's a Mk II, don't you?"
Frank says "Mark ... Mark ... Mark ... Mark ... "
Alf looks. "Well bugger me sideways with a Transit exhaust, he's right."
The Ozzard of Wiz's eyes water at the simile.
tc can't stop giggling
[... some time later...]
In the background, Alf closes the Haynes manual with a satisfied THWAP!, stands up, and with a certain amount of ceremony presses Frank's 'on' switch.
Frank appears to be running scandisk
The Ozzard of Wiz notes scandisk is running with its usual efficiency.
Alf and Alf reckon Frank will probably pull through, and nip off into the night.