Dr Chen and his mechanical men.

[Silbuster]

“Gosh, this is exciting”, said Petunia gazing excitedly at Midsummer Mayhem snoozling quietly, but in an exciting manner, in the summer sunshine. In the market, its excited citizenry dozed upright apart from Mr Jones, the Butcher, whose red excited face became redder as the steam buggy failed to start yet again. A pigeon pooped on the bonnet and Mr Jones’ crimson face looked up in appreciation. He caught sight of a barrel parked against his wing. It had “BOMB” scrawled on its side. Mr Jones’ expression passed though scarlet to incandescent.

“Gosh, one of these nice people has an important message! Which one do you think it could be?”
“Probably our best bet is to start asking them, dear”, muttered Penelope patiently.
“Gosh, I do not believe this could be any more exciting!”. Petunia started jumping up and down.

Several giant walking plant pots armed with unfeasibly large items of giant’s cutlery marched into the market opposite them. They were accompanied by a gaggle of lower class scoundrels. They were easy to spot. They had “LOWER CLASS SCOUNDREL” written on their hats. Last, and very much least, was Dr Chen. He’d obviously been quite ill recently. Actually, more like on the critical list really. But we shall draw a discreet Chinese veil over his infirmity. And the rest of him, with any luck.

A plant pot approached a placard bearing yokel. “GET YOUR IMPORTANT MESSAGE HERE!” it read.

“Dash it! They may have found the messenger.”
“There’s no fooling you, is there.”
The ladies turned expectantly to Lee Mai. Sent specifically over from Hong Kong to act as liaison on the Chinese menace, the astoundingly attired Mai (Heaven help us, she’s wearing trousers!) trilled out her commands…
“Does anybody have any idea what she just said?”
“Not really, though it did not seem to have any r’s in it.”
“Wash your mouth out Petunia”

Miss Mai ran down the line of buildings on her right. Quick on the uptake, most of the rest ran down both left and right. Penelope grabbed Petunia, who was still jumping up and down, and followed them. Behind them, the Suffragette Snipers womanhandled rifles big enough to club an elephant to the floor and opened up on the clay man with the message but only succeeded in puncturing the horizon. La Saboteuse clicked the bomb’s clockwork fuse in a final attempt to glaze him.

A queasy Mr Jones the Butcher suddenly found the market moving downwards. However, what goes up must come down and, indeed, what goes down can sometimes come up. In this case over a passing pigeon.
“Revenge!”, croaked Mr Jones as his car crashed to Earth. A small green pigeon plopped onto his lap.
“Coo”, it said, looking up hopefully. Mr Jones looked at Bill and Ben and all the Flowerpot Men charging either side of him and sank into the upholstery clutching his new found friend.

An animated commode ran over Miss Velvet.
“That’s naughty”, said Hyacinth.
“He’s a very naughty boy”, agreed Felicity
“He needs some of his own medicine”, said Hyacinth signalling to a Suffragette Sniper. A hole large enough to accommodate an aspidistra spoilt Bill the Flowerpot’s day. Hyacinth inserted a medicine spoon cunningly disguised as a Gurkha Kukri and Bill fell over and smashed into a thousand pieces.
“Tut, they\re so thoughtless these days!”, said Hyacinth, “Leaving such a mess behind him.”
“He’s a very naughty body”, agreed Felicity, “Or was.”

The statue of a lion came to life and trampled all over the Lady in Black.
“That’s naughty”, said Hyacinth.
“No pets allowed”, snapped Felicity firmly, motioning to a Suffragette sniper. The overgrown kitten went to pieces.
“He looks much nicer as a jigsaw.”

Dr Chen stared aghast as his finest porcelain acquired more chips than the average fish shop. He bravely led the lower class scoundrels into hiding behind anything to hand and opened fire as the ladies daintily picked their way over crocked crockery. Tiring of this, vertical Veronica accompanied by the rather fast and racy Blondie ran in behind a skulking pair of n’er-do-wells.
“You’ll never take me alive!”, snarled one.
“Excellent news!”, said Veronica, delivering a ladylike high-heeled boot to the groin and breaking her parasol on his head. It’s never wise to insult a lady who’s seven feet tall.
“There’s another one behind the window”, warned Blondie.
“Where?”
“Just there”, replied Blondie, pointing with her gun which went off.
“Where precisely?”. asked Veronica sardonically.
“There on the floor”, said Blondie, pointing with her gun. Which went off.
They looked at the motionless form on the floor for a few moments and then sidled off, whistling unconcernedly.

Miss Rosie Pink, sniper to the gentry, took aim and, for once, missed. The gatling gun on the local police force’s land steam tank opened up with all barrels. Unscathed, Rosie held up a barn door should they like to try again but the abashed forces of law and order went for a sulk in the pub instead.

Dr Chen tried to shoot Lee Mai but his eyes glazed over and his aim went all wobbly instead.
“Perhaps she won’t shoot me”, he thought.
Yes Doctor… we all live in hope don’t we? Just like that flying pig on the horizon.

“So where’s the messenger?”, asked Petunia
“They led him away before we polished them off, I’m afraid. All that’s left is this note from the management.”
“What does it say?”
“Poor show”.
“Well, that’s not very exciting”, said Petunia


*****************************************************************************

This adventure was played at the Wargames Illustrated IHMN day. Thank you to my opponent Ian for his courtesy in continuing the battle even though he had won within five minutes.

Next up: Miss Rosie Pink describes the view from the police station roof.

[Eisenfaust]

Wonderful!