At some point in time, it no longer became palatable for people to make television like this. We diverged from one of the nicer timelines, where heartfeltness could function without schmaltz, and lost the opportunity to make 'The Bionic Woman'. It's quite the shame. 'The Bionic Woman' and 'The Six Million Dollar Man' have escaped any serious mentions to date here at the Quirky Muffin, but they are actually pretty important and very fun, especially the former.
'The Bionic Woman' was the spin-off with the evident heart, partly because Lindsay Wagner was a far far more emotive performer than Lee Majors, and also because it was developed by Kenneth Johnson, who deliberately intended to give the show a softer touch. Now, Lee Majors could do softer if he wanted, but he was only rarely given the chance. He was mostly wasted on 'The Six Million Dollar Man', but we'll get back to that at a later date.
In 'The Bionic Dog' (Part One!), Jaime discovers that the first bionic guinea pig was actually a dog called Max, who is being secretly kept locked up for reasons which can only be called dumb. Rudy, the genius inventor of bionics, is idiotically convinced that Max's upgrades are failing and that the dog will have to be put down and examined post-mortem. Jaime takes umbrage, and works with Max to lift him out of his depression, which is OBVIOUSLY because he has been penned up for four years. Obviously! It's amazing how dumb genius scientists can be. Sheesh. Finally, Rudy is so pigheaded he doesn't believe in any progress, so the new Bionic Duo escape and run away to live another day. They will win out in part two, we hope.
It was a different time, and one to which it would be nice to return in the future. If ever there were good reason to build up a television archive, this is it. You can go back and watch the comparatively naive shows from past times, shows which can be shared pretty much universally, and enjoy not being offended or whacked about the head with cynicism and despair. This is a near classical example, of which I should probably be ashamed, but being an admitted sentimental simpleton has its advantages. By all the modern rules, it should be impossible to have an episode of television where a woman befriends a dog, and spends lots of time running with him or worriedly sleeping next to his cage. The modern rules are plainly wrong.
Go, Max, go! This may be the final season, but you've given it a good start!
O.
Friday, 14 April 2017
Wednesday, 12 April 2017
The Monkocracy Is Nigh
'The Ninja Of Health' is wrapped up, even if ended up being a little unsatisfactory. A single post-script might be necessary, but the natures of these serial stories are very experimental and I think each segment really only functions as a snapshot of a larger narrative. That is why most of the problems get ironed out in the joined up, edited down, cleaned up and polished up versions. What would happen if all the segments in which I was casting around for the next direction for the story were removed? Wouldn't it get reduced down to five lines, every one of which involved the much ballyhooed 'Pattern'. I may never use the word 'Pattern' again, and even now it feels like I may have borrowed it from somewhere. There was a lot of talk about Order and Chaos in the LE Modesit 'Recluce' saga. Maybe it's connected to that? Was there a Pattern in the Roger Zelazny 'Amber' chronicles...? Yes! Yes, there was! It only took several years to remember! Oh, all those hopes of originality, lost to the winds. Go read those instead, at least the first cycle.
With 'The Ninja Of Health' finished, and put into the queue for a 'stitch-up' into one piece, that leaves a few other stories that have been on hold for a remarkably long time. 'The Glove' is out there, waiting, as are 'Diary Of A Laundry Robot' and the second phase of 'Wordspace'. That's quite a lot to be getting on with, in the usual halting style. The oldest story there is 'The Glove', so that seems to be the most reasonable choice to either finish or reinvent in some way. That has been one troubled experiment. Sometimes, it is tempting to just write it off, but there's a kernel of something in that effort. It feels like something that would be more cynical than its writer, though, so perhaps it needs to be re-bashed into a hat of a different shape. Or a fez. Maybe it should be rewritten and retitled 'The Purple Fez'? That, of course, was a joke. (But are you sure it was a joke?)
Yes, no more health ninjas for now. That will take some getting used to. Actually, they seemed to lose a lot of their ninja-iness pretty quickly, didn't they? They ended up being 'Monks of Health'. Now, monks don't get nearly enough time in the spotlight any more. Perhaps that can be the new fad of the twenty-first century: a monk renaissance? It's got a touch of style to it. Yes, '2017: Dawn Of The New Monk Republic'. We could have a monkocracy! Even now, it seems entirely practical. Westminster is practically a monastery already. Let's just shift a load more people in, with much quieter styles of discourse.
It all makes sense.
O.
With 'The Ninja Of Health' finished, and put into the queue for a 'stitch-up' into one piece, that leaves a few other stories that have been on hold for a remarkably long time. 'The Glove' is out there, waiting, as are 'Diary Of A Laundry Robot' and the second phase of 'Wordspace'. That's quite a lot to be getting on with, in the usual halting style. The oldest story there is 'The Glove', so that seems to be the most reasonable choice to either finish or reinvent in some way. That has been one troubled experiment. Sometimes, it is tempting to just write it off, but there's a kernel of something in that effort. It feels like something that would be more cynical than its writer, though, so perhaps it needs to be re-bashed into a hat of a different shape. Or a fez. Maybe it should be rewritten and retitled 'The Purple Fez'? That, of course, was a joke. (But are you sure it was a joke?)
Yes, no more health ninjas for now. That will take some getting used to. Actually, they seemed to lose a lot of their ninja-iness pretty quickly, didn't they? They ended up being 'Monks of Health'. Now, monks don't get nearly enough time in the spotlight any more. Perhaps that can be the new fad of the twenty-first century: a monk renaissance? It's got a touch of style to it. Yes, '2017: Dawn Of The New Monk Republic'. We could have a monkocracy! Even now, it seems entirely practical. Westminster is practically a monastery already. Let's just shift a load more people in, with much quieter styles of discourse.
It all makes sense.
O.
Monday, 10 April 2017
Story: The Ninja of Health, XXXIV
( Part XXXIII )
"It is over, Ghost. You just don't know it yet." The Woman was firm in voice, no matter what trembles may have been stirring within.
The voice sounded as if it was lost in some other time, a hollow era on some other world. "I never asked for this, but there will be repercussions if you mess with me." The Oracle's eyes were getting wider and wider, before going blank as he collapsed backwards in a faint. It was almost comical to see him slumped against someone who wasn't there.
The Woman didn't dare look upward, to see how her companions were progressing.
---
In the balloon basket, Ken and the Man were finishing preliminary relaxation. One toggled switch saw some pouches around the edge of the basket open. Little bundles began to unroll, and unroll, and unroll...
Then, without a word, the atmosphere changed. A great wave of peace spread out, and the surrounding clouds began to coalesce into a new configuration. The stubborn patch of cloud to the East began to toss off screamers, but the new patch right next to the basket tried to hold its shape. It was a struggle.
---
The Oracle was lowered gently to the ground, a courtesy that wouldn't have been expected. Two footprints could be clearly seen in the gravel of the rock garden, shimmering slightly. "What are they doing up there?" Screamed the voice of the Ghost, and suddenly the Woman felt an iron grip at her neck, not quite right for stopping the flow of air but close.
"They're damping down your power. That's what they're doing. It's also what I'm doing." She was utterly calm now. "Do you know what it is we do exactly?"
---
The ribbons unfurled from the pouches completely, and stretched out in the air, following the odd patterns formed by the clouds. For almost fifty metres in all directions the colours wove and rewove, forming subtleties that had never been seen before in any of the previous Patterns. There had been ball pools previously, mosaic floors, the sand curtains at the clifftop crater and even the tablecloth of prophecy. Now, a massive circle of ribbons tangled deliberately across the sky above the chapel, spiralling and coalescing around the nodes of their Pattern, and a clarity spread pervasively. It was majestic, pretty and just a little frightening. Every injured animal in a mile's radius suddenly recovered and went home for a nap.
Ken and the Man were smiling as they almost-slept.
---
"You see, Mr Ghost, we're healers. We heal people. Welcome to clinic."
The phantom was becoming visible as the great calming power swept over them. His patch of vortex in the atmosphere was almost completely subsumed into the ribboned swirls.
"No. Please. Don't do this. Don't help me. Please help me." Sobs were being pushed out between the words.
"You will be helped. It's what we do." The Woman looked him in the eye, and removed his hand from about her throat. Then, with all the skill at her command, she healed the Phantom.
The ribbons in the sky flared.
---
The Two looked down at the pale and wan figure lying in the centre of the healing Pattern in the chapel. Ken was taking observations and organising transport back to their base in Scandinavia, where final recovery would commence. The Oracle was packing, his memory still gone, but relief was evident in his face. All his prophecies seemed positive, apart from the one about the baked potatoes which was probably an anomaly.
"How on Earth are we going to explain to people that it's safe to move back here again?" Mused the Man.
"I wouldn't worry about it. The government will send in inspectors, none of whom will get sick, and make up some stupid and credible story. That's what they always do. That's what happened with the Iron Horse." The Woman smiled a cynical smile. "Until then, we might have to get away for a while."
"Will they ever let him go? What do you think?"
"Maybe. It depends on what really happened. The omens are good. Maybe, one day, we will be one more in number."
"Children, children." Ken wandered over. "You might want to help escort the patient back to base camp. And then, well, perhaps you'd be interested in taking on a small side job while you're on holiday. Have you ever been to Montevideo?"
"Oh, for crying out loud, Ken!" The Two exclaimed in unison.
"Definitely grouchy. You definitely need to sleep more. Off you go. He shooed them off mischievously."
"You heard the man, milady." One roguish smile emerged.
"I sigh at you, good sir." Hand in hand, they went for a nap.
Yes, it's an end, but it's also a beginning. At least we finally got the ribbons into it.
"It is over, Ghost. You just don't know it yet." The Woman was firm in voice, no matter what trembles may have been stirring within.
The voice sounded as if it was lost in some other time, a hollow era on some other world. "I never asked for this, but there will be repercussions if you mess with me." The Oracle's eyes were getting wider and wider, before going blank as he collapsed backwards in a faint. It was almost comical to see him slumped against someone who wasn't there.
The Woman didn't dare look upward, to see how her companions were progressing.
---
In the balloon basket, Ken and the Man were finishing preliminary relaxation. One toggled switch saw some pouches around the edge of the basket open. Little bundles began to unroll, and unroll, and unroll...
Then, without a word, the atmosphere changed. A great wave of peace spread out, and the surrounding clouds began to coalesce into a new configuration. The stubborn patch of cloud to the East began to toss off screamers, but the new patch right next to the basket tried to hold its shape. It was a struggle.
---
The Oracle was lowered gently to the ground, a courtesy that wouldn't have been expected. Two footprints could be clearly seen in the gravel of the rock garden, shimmering slightly. "What are they doing up there?" Screamed the voice of the Ghost, and suddenly the Woman felt an iron grip at her neck, not quite right for stopping the flow of air but close.
"They're damping down your power. That's what they're doing. It's also what I'm doing." She was utterly calm now. "Do you know what it is we do exactly?"
---
The ribbons unfurled from the pouches completely, and stretched out in the air, following the odd patterns formed by the clouds. For almost fifty metres in all directions the colours wove and rewove, forming subtleties that had never been seen before in any of the previous Patterns. There had been ball pools previously, mosaic floors, the sand curtains at the clifftop crater and even the tablecloth of prophecy. Now, a massive circle of ribbons tangled deliberately across the sky above the chapel, spiralling and coalescing around the nodes of their Pattern, and a clarity spread pervasively. It was majestic, pretty and just a little frightening. Every injured animal in a mile's radius suddenly recovered and went home for a nap.
Ken and the Man were smiling as they almost-slept.
---
"You see, Mr Ghost, we're healers. We heal people. Welcome to clinic."
The phantom was becoming visible as the great calming power swept over them. His patch of vortex in the atmosphere was almost completely subsumed into the ribboned swirls.
"No. Please. Don't do this. Don't help me. Please help me." Sobs were being pushed out between the words.
"You will be helped. It's what we do." The Woman looked him in the eye, and removed his hand from about her throat. Then, with all the skill at her command, she healed the Phantom.
The ribbons in the sky flared.
---
The Two looked down at the pale and wan figure lying in the centre of the healing Pattern in the chapel. Ken was taking observations and organising transport back to their base in Scandinavia, where final recovery would commence. The Oracle was packing, his memory still gone, but relief was evident in his face. All his prophecies seemed positive, apart from the one about the baked potatoes which was probably an anomaly.
"How on Earth are we going to explain to people that it's safe to move back here again?" Mused the Man.
"I wouldn't worry about it. The government will send in inspectors, none of whom will get sick, and make up some stupid and credible story. That's what they always do. That's what happened with the Iron Horse." The Woman smiled a cynical smile. "Until then, we might have to get away for a while."
"Will they ever let him go? What do you think?"
"Maybe. It depends on what really happened. The omens are good. Maybe, one day, we will be one more in number."
"Children, children." Ken wandered over. "You might want to help escort the patient back to base camp. And then, well, perhaps you'd be interested in taking on a small side job while you're on holiday. Have you ever been to Montevideo?"
"Oh, for crying out loud, Ken!" The Two exclaimed in unison.
"Definitely grouchy. You definitely need to sleep more. Off you go. He shooed them off mischievously."
"You heard the man, milady." One roguish smile emerged.
"I sigh at you, good sir." Hand in hand, they went for a nap.
Yes, it's an end, but it's also a beginning. At least we finally got the ribbons into it.
Saturday, 8 April 2017
Splish Splash
Splish splash. Splish splash. It's pretty difficult to learn to swim when you have little water confidence. As a child, it would have been easier, but that ship sailed long ago after a not very nice incident with a pool-based bully. As a result, after starting very late, six or seven years of practice has resulted in a slightly shoddy front crawl that lacks the confidence to go into the very deep diving end of the pool and spells of terror when contemplating back stroke. It would probably be okay, especially after all the practice in not sinking like a stone, but you never know. One day, there will a whole linear length. Maybe it will be tomorrow, or in three weeks time, or sometime in the 2030s, but it will certainly happen.
Water confidence is difficult. You almost need to stop trying to swim and just melt into the ambience, move along to whatever hopefully compatible music might be playing on the leisure centre system, and centre in on yourself just like in meditation. Be part of the world in which you live, and so on, new age people. Then you stop thinking about the water, slowly lose your nerves, and gain confidence in the calmness. This all goes to nothing if you are surrounding by thrashing other swimmers in a too-busy pool packed with chaos, but it happens sometimes. Sometimes, if you're lucky, and the world is not too mean.
Building up many types of confidence can be similar in procedure: You just need to immerse yourself in the activity in question in favourable circumstances. However, all this from someone who paddles up to the halfway line and peeks into the diving end may be a little too much to take! Some people can be pushed in to the water and pop up paddling quite happily, but others can be pushed in and take trauma for ages to come. It's a bit like tutoring in many respects. With some students you can just jump in and feel happy that it won't leave any scars if it goes wrong, and with others you have to invoke the baby steps principle. Slowly, slowly, slowly.
Yes, some people like to splish splash instead of stroke stroke, and there's nothing wrong with that. To the pool!
O.
Water confidence is difficult. You almost need to stop trying to swim and just melt into the ambience, move along to whatever hopefully compatible music might be playing on the leisure centre system, and centre in on yourself just like in meditation. Be part of the world in which you live, and so on, new age people. Then you stop thinking about the water, slowly lose your nerves, and gain confidence in the calmness. This all goes to nothing if you are surrounding by thrashing other swimmers in a too-busy pool packed with chaos, but it happens sometimes. Sometimes, if you're lucky, and the world is not too mean.
Building up many types of confidence can be similar in procedure: You just need to immerse yourself in the activity in question in favourable circumstances. However, all this from someone who paddles up to the halfway line and peeks into the diving end may be a little too much to take! Some people can be pushed in to the water and pop up paddling quite happily, but others can be pushed in and take trauma for ages to come. It's a bit like tutoring in many respects. With some students you can just jump in and feel happy that it won't leave any scars if it goes wrong, and with others you have to invoke the baby steps principle. Slowly, slowly, slowly.
Yes, some people like to splish splash instead of stroke stroke, and there's nothing wrong with that. To the pool!
O.
Thursday, 6 April 2017
Story: The Ninja of Health, XXXIII
( Part XXXII , XXXIV )
Right. This is what I've been aiming for since the brainwave. We're good to go.
~~~
The sky was half full of white clouds, on an otherwise blue and sunny day. The clouds were still congregating chaotically over their antagonist's supposed lair, but that was to be expected. They hadn't actually begun yet.
Their balloon slowly rose into the sky, tethered by cable to a sturdy link in the chapel grounds. From time to time, the burner triggered, on a repeating timer. They wouldn't have to come down until they chose to or they ran out of fuel.
"It's a nice day", the Man observed, looking out over the town.
"It looks a lot like home," agreed Ken, the Guru.
"Do you think this is going to work?"
"There's only one way to find out." Ken looked out at the surrounding air, then up at the cloud. "We still need to go a little higher."
"I know. We're getting there, though."
"Be ready to adjust the tether once we break the cloud layer."
"Of course."
---
Below, the amnesiac Oracle and the Lady were watching, and keeping an eye on the clock and weather readings from their tiny weather station.
"They look as if they're almost there." Observed the Oracle, briefed on the events since his memory had been erased.
"Yes. Keep your eyes open."
"I'm not sure quite what to expect."
"Pink elephants and green hyenas, I hope..." The Lady was looking tensely at the wind measurements. "It's perfect."
---
Ken throw down the signal. A red ribbon on a ring, that ran down the tether cable. Then, in the cloud bank, he and the Man began their relaxation routine, and the Pattern began to form around them.
---
"Well, who would have thought it!" The Oracle was stunned at the skyscape forming above them. "That ball pool was already bizarre enough!"
"The ball pool was only the beginning. However, we may need to back them up." The Woman turned to lead her friend into the chapel. However, the look on his face was not reassuring. "What's wrong?"
The great Pattern was unfolding above them, and beginning to clash with the chaos to the East. The Oracle was shaking and trembling violently. Invisible fingers were clutching at his arms. An interference pattern began to form in the clouds directly above them, with all it's implications...
A voice was heard. "It's not over yet."
To be concluded.
Right. This is what I've been aiming for since the brainwave. We're good to go.
~~~
The sky was half full of white clouds, on an otherwise blue and sunny day. The clouds were still congregating chaotically over their antagonist's supposed lair, but that was to be expected. They hadn't actually begun yet.
Their balloon slowly rose into the sky, tethered by cable to a sturdy link in the chapel grounds. From time to time, the burner triggered, on a repeating timer. They wouldn't have to come down until they chose to or they ran out of fuel.
"It's a nice day", the Man observed, looking out over the town.
"It looks a lot like home," agreed Ken, the Guru.
"Do you think this is going to work?"
"There's only one way to find out." Ken looked out at the surrounding air, then up at the cloud. "We still need to go a little higher."
"I know. We're getting there, though."
"Be ready to adjust the tether once we break the cloud layer."
"Of course."
---
Below, the amnesiac Oracle and the Lady were watching, and keeping an eye on the clock and weather readings from their tiny weather station.
"They look as if they're almost there." Observed the Oracle, briefed on the events since his memory had been erased.
"Yes. Keep your eyes open."
"I'm not sure quite what to expect."
"Pink elephants and green hyenas, I hope..." The Lady was looking tensely at the wind measurements. "It's perfect."
---
Ken throw down the signal. A red ribbon on a ring, that ran down the tether cable. Then, in the cloud bank, he and the Man began their relaxation routine, and the Pattern began to form around them.
---
"Well, who would have thought it!" The Oracle was stunned at the skyscape forming above them. "That ball pool was already bizarre enough!"
"The ball pool was only the beginning. However, we may need to back them up." The Woman turned to lead her friend into the chapel. However, the look on his face was not reassuring. "What's wrong?"
The great Pattern was unfolding above them, and beginning to clash with the chaos to the East. The Oracle was shaking and trembling violently. Invisible fingers were clutching at his arms. An interference pattern began to form in the clouds directly above them, with all it's implications...
A voice was heard. "It's not over yet."
To be concluded.
Tuesday, 4 April 2017
The Red Herring
The term 'red herring' is wonderfully evocative without really meaning anything. It's much nicer than 'maguffin', as used by the infamous Hitchcock. Supposedly, the term 'red herring' originated in one way or another as part of the trick of using a kipper to divert hounds while hunting, although I have no idea how a fox or hare would have found the kipper to begin with. That seems to be the hole in the logic for that explanation!
What is a red herring? Well, it's normally not a kipper, which is the literal definition. A red herring is a clue or piece of information which leads someone down the wrong track, if you can stand the mixing of metaphors. In its most usual context, it is the piece of information in a mystery which points the audience and sometimes the detective at entirely the wrong suspect or theory, only for the truth to be revealed much later in the narrative. However, we do have red herrings in real life. Every time we choose one path in life, only to change to another more appropriate one, we have been pursuing the red herring. Again, it doesn't seem possible to actually pursue a kipper, but who am I to really know. Maybe it's tied to a skateboard?
In reality, a lot of our aims in life end up being red herrings. There are no magical reasons for our individual existences, although I do envy those who have vocations and callings to their professions which seem to fill that void. All those quests for money, prestige and fame don't really mean anything, after all. They're just the maguffins. Sometimes you're better off going for a smaller job and being happy with it.
Getting away from maguffins of the smoked fish variety - although it would be very easy to go on, and on, and then further on again, before invoking 'The Butler Did It' in a final push to the end - it's an odd time of year. The whole of last week was spent in adjustment to the dreaded Daylight Savings Time, my calendrical nemesis. Is there any historical red herring more egregious than Daylight Savings Time, especially one which is yet to be discovered? How can this still go on? It's madness! "I say, Jenks, shall we adjust everyone's clocks so that they can get more sunlight, instead of just letting them get on with their lives any way that they like?" "Yes, Joan, and let's chortle at all the body clock distress and confusion that ensues."
Mutter mutter mutter red herrings grumble grumble.
O.
What is a red herring? Well, it's normally not a kipper, which is the literal definition. A red herring is a clue or piece of information which leads someone down the wrong track, if you can stand the mixing of metaphors. In its most usual context, it is the piece of information in a mystery which points the audience and sometimes the detective at entirely the wrong suspect or theory, only for the truth to be revealed much later in the narrative. However, we do have red herrings in real life. Every time we choose one path in life, only to change to another more appropriate one, we have been pursuing the red herring. Again, it doesn't seem possible to actually pursue a kipper, but who am I to really know. Maybe it's tied to a skateboard?
In reality, a lot of our aims in life end up being red herrings. There are no magical reasons for our individual existences, although I do envy those who have vocations and callings to their professions which seem to fill that void. All those quests for money, prestige and fame don't really mean anything, after all. They're just the maguffins. Sometimes you're better off going for a smaller job and being happy with it.
Getting away from maguffins of the smoked fish variety - although it would be very easy to go on, and on, and then further on again, before invoking 'The Butler Did It' in a final push to the end - it's an odd time of year. The whole of last week was spent in adjustment to the dreaded Daylight Savings Time, my calendrical nemesis. Is there any historical red herring more egregious than Daylight Savings Time, especially one which is yet to be discovered? How can this still go on? It's madness! "I say, Jenks, shall we adjust everyone's clocks so that they can get more sunlight, instead of just letting them get on with their lives any way that they like?" "Yes, Joan, and let's chortle at all the body clock distress and confusion that ensues."
Mutter mutter mutter red herrings grumble grumble.
O.
Sunday, 2 April 2017
Story: The Ninja of Health, XXXII
( Part XXXI , XXXIII )
It was definitely an idea, and a bravura one at that. As the Two put it into action, the Man couldn't help but marvel at it.
"What put this in your head? Was it the clouds?" He asked.
"No, it was earlier than that. It was the sandy curtains, and then remembering the ball pool. The clouds just tipped it over the edge."
"Shush. I'm finally coming off hold." He moved the phone closer to his ear, and listened. "Yes. Yes. We need to hire the largest blue one that you have. Thank you. You have my details there still? Thank you. Bye."
"Sorted?"
"Yes. Shall we, milady?"
"Yes, milord." The Two walked hand in hand back to the old hall, where the Oracle was trying to jog his own memory via some prophetic breakfast cereal exercises.. He looked up, and his look told them all they needed to know.
Apparently, while they had been away the town had been evacuated by the authorities, unknowingly leaving only Ken and the Oracle behind. Then, according to their guru, 'the Oracle slowly responded to my efforts, as if the removal of the population weakened our opponent in some way.' He had made a time chart, based on the chaotic content of their Patterned floor. Sadly, the Oracle couldn't remember anything from the last three months, so it was more of a technical victory. However, he was trying, which was great.
A horn honked outside. The three ninjas of health looked out the window, to see Ken at the wheel of a large tanker. The Man grinned. "This plan is definitely now happening..."
More will follow...
It was definitely an idea, and a bravura one at that. As the Two put it into action, the Man couldn't help but marvel at it.
"What put this in your head? Was it the clouds?" He asked.
"No, it was earlier than that. It was the sandy curtains, and then remembering the ball pool. The clouds just tipped it over the edge."
"Shush. I'm finally coming off hold." He moved the phone closer to his ear, and listened. "Yes. Yes. We need to hire the largest blue one that you have. Thank you. You have my details there still? Thank you. Bye."
"Sorted?"
"Yes. Shall we, milady?"
"Yes, milord." The Two walked hand in hand back to the old hall, where the Oracle was trying to jog his own memory via some prophetic breakfast cereal exercises.. He looked up, and his look told them all they needed to know.
Apparently, while they had been away the town had been evacuated by the authorities, unknowingly leaving only Ken and the Oracle behind. Then, according to their guru, 'the Oracle slowly responded to my efforts, as if the removal of the population weakened our opponent in some way.' He had made a time chart, based on the chaotic content of their Patterned floor. Sadly, the Oracle couldn't remember anything from the last three months, so it was more of a technical victory. However, he was trying, which was great.
A horn honked outside. The three ninjas of health looked out the window, to see Ken at the wheel of a large tanker. The Man grinned. "This plan is definitely now happening..."
More will follow...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)