And so the saga of Etsia continues ... who shall prevail ? The titillating tale of truth triumphanting over terror continues with
Heidi O'Brien's wondrous satire ...
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"So, Baron Von Reseller, you
thought it would be great laughs to abduct my wife, did you?"'
Count Upcyledonio stood upright on the rafters, his moustache shining sleek in
the shadows.
" Is this true, Baron?" bellowed Sir Reginald.
The Integrity team stood to the ready, swords and arrows sharp and erect.
"There are rumors, Baron, that you behead stolen brides and put them in
your cupboard of doom. If this is correct, then your own head will be adorned
on the Hipster Pike of Shame on the towers of Brooklyn Castle. Release the
woman I love or I shall fall on you from this great height", the Count
spread out his arms like a bird on a stenciled canvas tote bag and prepared to
leap.
"Collective DEACTIVATE!"
yelled the Baron, and his cyborg helpers separated with much whirring and
clicking of cogs, until there were again hundreds of machines on the factory
floor.
"Minions, guard my collection of headless brides - and make sure the new
one is still held captive in the cellar."
" ARABELLA!" cried the
Count as he jumped from the rafters and hurled himself downwards towards the
evil baron.
The Baron simply chuckled and held up a copper arrow that looked suspiciously
like merchandise from a popular trilogy . Before the Count was pierced by its
copyright- infringing point, Sir Reginald threw a spiked cease and desist ball
and it splintered into a thousand pieces.
The army circled the Baron, their
shirtless chests and well-toned arms tensed for action.
With a wave of his hand, the Baron made the signal to his minions to take aim
from their miniature canon-ball eye-sockets. There was a great burst of smoke
and a shower of indifferent sparks, but when it all cleared it was revealed
that the canons had not fired.
"Who is the head engineer?" screamed the Baron. "Step forward!"
A quivering mound of clockwork pieces wheeled a few centimeters towards its
master, it's spherical head cast downwards.
"Well congratulations you buffoon" the Baron dripped with the
drippiest drips of sarcasm to ever drip from a villain's mouth. "You have won
the 'Three-Armed Blunder Vest Award'. I do hope you are happy."
"This has gone on long enough!' broke in the Count. 'There will be no more
beheaded brides in Etsia!"
"And there will be no more mills owned by the Baron Von Reseller!"
added Sir Reginald.
With a great roar, the noble knights swarmed the factory floor, their swords of
justice swinging and their tight trousers bursting with nobility and courage.
Cogs and springs and coils and
pieces of machinery evocative of a more oldey-worldey time flew through the air
as swords flashed and knuckles punched through metal rib-cages. The Baron and
his minions were no match for the strength and cunning invested in the
Integrity army of Etsia. The floor was streaked with chevron lines of blood
mixed with oil, the air smelt of sweat and the stale cupcake stench of fear.
Soon, all that was left of the Baron's collective was the Baron himself.
"It shall be you and I,"
said the Count, "in a duel to the death. You may choose your weapon."
"Let it be me," said Sir Reginald.
"It would be my honor to fight on behalf of my long-time friend and
one-time nemesis. I believe we are half cousins too, I think that was mentioned
somewhere?"
"True, we are," nodded the Count. "Old schoolmates as well,
cavorting happily in the nursery in our short pants, playing soldiers. Funny
that we should fight side by side now, as we did in our long ago games of
chivalry."
"Don't forget our exploits at the university," chuckled Sir Reginald.
"The songs we sang, the women we courted...those sad and sweet moments of
first love that we confided in each other...the secrets and hopes for the
future that we..."
"OH JUST HURRY UP AND KILL ME!" cried the Baron. '"SHUT UP AND
PICK A BLEEDING WEAPON, ANY WEAPON, I DON'T DAMN WELL CARE!"
Sir Reginald produced two hot-glue guns from his weapon-pack and threw one to
the outstretched hand of the Baron.
"What in damnation is this?" asked the Baron. "How could such a
contraption work?"
"I should have known that a Von Reseller would never have touched one of
these in his life," smiled Sir Reginald as he held up his hot-glue gun and
made ready to take aim...
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Credits for story and imagination go to:
Blogger is being a b_ _ _ _ today and I'm having trouble getting it to put in the links. here are Heidi's links .