*
Welcome, Guest. Please login or register.
March 29, 2024, 09:34:44 AM

Login with username, password and session length

Donate

We Appreciate Your Support

Recent

Author Topic: Collecting the Loot  (Read 3403 times)

Offline Silbuster

  • Scientist
  • Posts: 210
Collecting the Loot
« on: April 10, 2016, 06:00:40 PM »
Collecting the Loot

Abel Caine looked cheerfully out of the back window of the “strongroom”. Ha, ha! The Professor would be pleased with this one. All the loot ready to go and not a bizzie in sight. All it needed now was a signal from the rest of the lads that they’d turned up to help carry it. Shouldn’t be any lack of volunteers! Now where was that blinking signal?

A carbine rang out and the window shattered. Abel thumbed through his signal book. Nope. Not in there. An entire fusillade rattled the building.

“Blimey! There’s Sherlock Holmes!”, grunted Bill Sykes.

The assembled villains turned round expectantly towards Abel who grudgingly gave Holmes the traditional welcome without which everybody would have felt sadly let down.

“Curse you Holmes! You’ll pay for meddling in my affairs!”
A small ripple of applause greeted the time honoured phrase and Abel gave a small bow to hide his pleasure.
“Mind you, Mr Clever Dick Holmes really will regret it when Maggie and the boys turn up behind him! Bwaa haa haa! Right then lads, we’ll stay put, trade shots and have a good laugh when they get plugged in the back, right?”
Lofty Len, Sid Feather, Mad Frankie and the robot rabbit looked at each other wondering who was the dimwit who actually thought going outside would be a bright idea?

“I’m worried about Nancy.”, said Bill Sykes.
“Will you stop talking about blinking Nancy! It’s getting right up my nose!”
“I can’t help it. I have Great Expectations.”
“That’s Oliver, you idiot!”
“No, it’s definitely Nancy.”
“You’ve got Nancy on the brain.”
Another pane crashed as a bullet came through and Bill stopped having enough brains left to worry about Nancy.

“Good shot!”, thought Dr Watson, “Now then, where are the other devils?”
Watson stood on the table on one leg - Watson that is, not the table - and lined up his pistol through the window. Hell of a position to be in but they wouldn’t be able to get him here, what! A bullet cracked the pane in front of him, ricochetted off the metal clock, smacked into a table leg which cracked it in half. Watson and table crashed to the floor closely followed by the ceiling which had come out in support. Out for the count, Watson was out of the game!

“Blue”, thought Maggie, “was not really a great choice of colour for this lark. I might as well be wearing a rosette with ‘SHOOT ME’ written on it.”
She shuffled behind Gentleman Johnny Bristow and found that everybody else had got there first. Stepping back she almost fell over the Artful Dodger who seemed to have her purse in his hand.
“I just found it on the floor, Miss. It must have falled out.”
Maggie carefully inspected the inside of the purse and then, with equal care, swiped the Dodger’s ear with it. Maggie looked around appreciatively. It was quite dark in here behind Jim. Quite roomy too. All too suddenly it became light as Jim made for the strong room. Magically, the remaining members rematerialised in a nearby copse and regarded the open terrain outside nervously. The group squeezed more closely together as Holmes materialised in the open and nonchalantly blocked Gentleman Jim’s heroically sized fist. Sherlock punched his cauliflower sized ear. Jim scratched his head and then made a grab. Of thin air as it turned out. Behind them the Artful Dodger oozed out from  cover and slithered towards the horizon.

“Oi”, shouted Maggie.
“I’m just going to investigate that suspicious looking house over way over there.” , said everybody’s favourite team member.
Maggie and the Thompson twins gazed wistfully after him, then smiled as he ran for cover with bullets hitting the ground all around him. The smiles froze over as they realised that the shooting was coming from the house just behind them.
“I’ll cover you.”, said Maggie to the twins who looked suitably grateful.
“It’s a nice dress”, said Maggie rather lamely, “shame to get it dirty.”
Muttering under their breath, the Thompson twins took it out on the Special Branch man whose career prospects took a turn for the worse. Matters were beginning to seem a little bleak for the forces of Law and Order.

But what is this? This line of fine, able bodied, glorious examples of British stiff upper lip. Let us draw closer and listen to their manly chant.
“Let’s all do the conga! Conga, conga, conga! Ta ra ra ra! Ta ra raa ra!”
The line in blue snaked towards the strong room.
“Blast it”, cried Lofty Len, “I can hear them but they are just outside my field of view!”
“Clever gits”, complained Abel Caine from the other side of the strong room, “they’re just out of sight for me too.”
Not to the Thompson twins though, who drew a bead on the clearly visible coppers. Muzzles flashed and excited bullets whizzed through the air, raced, trotted, walked, strolled then fell gasping for air at the feet of the rozzers.
“Just out of blasted range!”
“They must have blinking theodolites tucked into those uniforms!”

“What the hell is that?”, asked Constabule Jenkins, pointing at a huge rod in the sky.
“That is the celestial measuring rule. Bit frightening, isn’t it?”
“BLAST”, came a celestial voice as the rule narrowly missed several coppers.
“Frightening is right!”

Trading shots with Mr Caine as they passed beneath his window, Lestrade’s objective was all too clear. Get himself stuck in the only doorway to the strong room and the loot was going nowhere.

“Right”, said Abel, “grab the loot because we’re making a run for it now.”
There was a collective gulping and clearing of throats.
“Is that absolutely necessary, old chap?”, asked Mad Frankie.
“Either we leave now or the rozzers will will be coming in to see us. And if you call me old chap again, I’ll stick that axe where it hurts.”
There was suddenly a lot of enthusiasm.

Taking cover after being shot at from behind, the Artful Dodger suddenly found the fire was now coming from the empty house he’d been keen on exploring. Losing interest, he headed for the strong room.

The Thompson twins threw caution to the wind and moved to help Gentleman Jim in this fruitless struggle with Mr Holmes. Odds of three to one! Hopeless against Holmes who seemed to largely consist of grease. Jim gave up and moved towards the strong room covered by Maggie who was still in the wood wondering why she hadn’t chosen green.

Yep, it was the final shootout and punchup at the OK strong room. And it did not start well for the thin blue line. Sergeant Tough’s teeth were sent into orbit assisted by Jim’s fist. Abel’s robot rabbit tripped up PC Plod who was then callously clobbered before he could rise. I say!! Shocked by such low cricketing standards, PC Postlethwaite stepped forward to remonstrate only to find that the word was certainly not mightier than Mad Frankie’s axe. Matters were looking pretty grim for the now very thin blue line. Translucent almost. But Lady Luck swept the other way.

Ducking a fist the size of a small whale, Constable Jenkins applied 50000 volts to parts of Gentleman Jim unauthorised by the Queensbury rules. Jim stiffened and then, like the mighty oak ceding to the gale, toppled as stiff as a statue. The Earth shook, the scenery seemed to shift. Peering through the dust, the protagonists ceased their altercation momentarily to shake layers of it from their apparel while trying to pretend with studied nonchalance that nothing of note had occurred. A small, irate sparrow, cruelly awoken from deep slumber, bounced off the earth in a tiny cloud of dust and began squawking his dissatisfaction in a surprisingly loud voice. Sergeant Tough bent low to rescue the mite while surreptitiously picking up his false teeth and popping them back in. By Heavens, the lads would rib him rotten if they ever found out about them! The tiny cloud of dust sighed with annoyance and floated off in search of further plummeting poultry.

Aghast, Abel looked around for support only to find Lestrade giving him the old one, two. Followed by three, four, five and six. The robot rabbit disconsolately lay down by his side and started to howl.
“I think we’re in a bit of trouble.”, said the ever astute Sid Feather just before he was plucked.
Leaderless, the villains looked around for support. Sadly, Maggie was still lost in the woods (“Black? Brown? Maybe grey would have been a better choice. Any colour but blinking blue. Let’s face it. I can’t go out because I’ve got nothing to wear.”)

“Use your initiative!”, thought Mad Frankie’s fifth personality on the left. Frankie promptly began swinging his axe in all directions. The other fifteen personalities started applauding what was, basically, Mad Frankie’s default setting.

Inspector Lestrade leant back rather more quickly than a couple of unfortunate constables whose career prospects were cut short. He fell over the Artful Dodger who appeared to be holding his wallet. Casting duty to the wind in favour of this month’s rent, Lestrade loped off after the midget while the robbers escorted the loot off the table.

“Not the force’s finest hour”, observed Holmes, dodging Thompson A’s sword for the umpteenth time. Or was it Thompson B’s?

“May the force be with you”, intoned Olde Obe Kenobee, holding out his begging bowl hopefully. Lestrade whacked him one with his truncheon and arrested him for taking the mickey.

Offline wulfgar22

  • Mad Scientist
  • Posts: 980
    • My Blog
Re: Collecting the Loot
« Reply #1 on: April 11, 2016, 11:26:56 AM »
 lol Great stuff as always!

Offline Dan55

  • Librarian
  • Posts: 187
Re: Collecting the Loot
« Reply #2 on: April 14, 2016, 09:02:35 AM »
Great looking game, even better write-up!

Offline Chairface

  • Scatterbrained Genius
  • Posts: 3810
Re: Collecting the Loot
« Reply #3 on: April 18, 2016, 06:41:09 PM »
That was great fun!

Offline Silbuster

  • Scientist
  • Posts: 210
Re: Collecting the Loot
« Reply #4 on: May 14, 2016, 08:09:06 PM »
Thank you, gentlemen. Hopefully there will be a new instalment soon.

Offline Danger

  • Schoolboy
  • Posts: 7
Re: Collecting the Loot
« Reply #5 on: October 27, 2016, 12:11:25 PM »
Congratulations Sir, well played.... and skillfully described.

Offline Craig

  • Scatterbrained Genius
  • Posts: 2078
  • Youth & Talent are no match for Age and Treachery.
    • The Ministry of Gentlemanly Warfare
Re: Collecting the Loot
« Reply #6 on: November 04, 2016, 08:35:16 AM »
Because I am down with the kids I shall say 'lol:D
My sincerest contrafibularities
General Lord Craig Arthur Wellesey Cartmell (ret'd)
https://theministryofgentlemanlywarfare.wordpress.com/

 

Related Topics

  Subject / Started by Replies Last post
30 Replies
8791 Views
Last post June 21, 2012, 10:39:38 PM
by Franz_Josef
7 Replies
2446 Views
Last post October 14, 2013, 02:54:50 PM
by grant
4 Replies
3907 Views
Last post January 03, 2021, 07:14:11 AM
by Atheling
8 Replies
2971 Views
Last post May 15, 2016, 07:30:22 AM
by OSHIROmodels
2 Replies
1013 Views
Last post August 27, 2016, 09:31:41 PM
by sundayhero