Friday, February 4, 2011

Da dada Da...

Decedereful found herself surrounded by henchmen clad in bulky garments that were a variety of earthy tones. They were quite ugly and unflattering on the similarly ugly and unflattering men. She wouldn't admit that she'd grown used to the more flattering type of men, but there it was. And now she found herself out in the desert, alone, facing down a firing squad. Excuse me, firink sqvad.

Where the hell is Jonesy, she thought, not for the first time. He sends me off on all these fool errands and then shows up at the most dramatic... A familiar tune interrupted the thought.

Off behind a group of tents, Decedereful glimpsed a familiar figure. Brown leather jacket, khaki pants, and signature brown fedora made up his identity as much as the lined face and piercing blue eyes. Jonesy was a bit old for her tastes, but she had to admit there was still something quite attractive about the royal historian. Perhaps it was the smile. Always made her feel like a spoiled princess or something. That, or perhaps she was just enamored with the promise of adventure. What about "historian" screamed "adventurer," she couldn't say, but wasn't that the whole point?

She watched helplessly as the old man crept with a litheness that belied his age. When he reached the corner of the tent that housed a convenient supply of explosives, he finally met her eyes. Holding up one finger, he motioned for her to be quite. Like she was going to yell and alert the dozen men holding her a gun point. Gee, thanks for the tip, Jonesy.

"Just vhat did you zink you vhere doink here?" one of the apparently cloned men wanted to know.

This one was slightly taller and more malicious looking that the others. Same figure, just with a sprinkle of authority added in. He was obviously a Captain or something. These troops were all so horribly cliche. It was like they were all made by the same machine, then photographed and cataloged by "amount of menace." Such a measure was then used to assign rank and promotional potential. Heaven forbid you were the baby-faced of the litter, forever destined to be placed on guard duty in the poorly constructed guard shack and fed a steady dose of turkey with red wine. Or did they just skip straight to sleeping pills?

Decedereful didn't answer the man right away. Instead, she lifted her shoulders and tried her best to look innocent. Just a girl out for a stroll, she thought. Nevermind the bodies over there. Her hands were held unthreateningly above her head, one hand clutching a bulging sack of various items. The items Jonesy had sent her out to steal in the first place.

"Vhell, you might vhant to come up vhith an explanation," the man continued. "Othervhise vhe vhill be shootink you."

Her rescuer was coming back out of the tent now, a long fuse dangling from his hand. He pointed once to the fuse and then purposefully to a torch nearby. Yeah, I get it Jonesy, you're gonna blow the place up, she thought. Isn't that what we always do? Instead of whining, she simply nodded her head slowly.

"Well, you're just going to shoot me then," Decedereful announced boldly. "But pretty please can we do it over there," she cocked her head. "I'd like to look out over Uldum one last time."

The big man looked confused for a moment, but then slowly nodded. "Fine. Turn around and vhalk. Keep your hands vhere I can see them. Mach schnell!"

Decedereful let loose a deep sigh for show, then turned slowly. From the corner of her eye, she could see Jonesy light the fuse and run like fel. Casually, with as much innocent femininity as she could muster, she took two steps and fell flat on her face.

"Get up!" the man hollered. "Just vhat do you zink-"

The rest of his words were lost in a massive explosion that ripped through the camp. Decedereful pushed her face into the sand and tried her best to imitate a stone. She felt a wave of heat rush over her, but her ice-caked armor afforded her adequate protection. The same couldn't be said for henchmen. She could hear the body parts falling around her like a meteor shower.

After a moment, she raised her head. Carnage was everywhere. Where was Jonesy?

"Dr. Jones! Dr. Jones!" she called frantically.

"Right behind ya, kid," came the smooth reply.

Decedereful turned to face that signature roguish smile. "You nearly killed me!" she exclaimed, pushing him halfheartedly.

His eyes merely twinkled in response.

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