Druxilla hung onto the outcrop as long as she could. By now she was feeling extremely tired, and didn't know how much energy she had left before she would fall onto the jagged rocks below, something that she almost certainly would not survive. She looked to her left, and saw another small promotory of rocks, on which sat a set of interwoven sticks. It was a nest, and in it was a cracked egg. There, next to it, was a baby dragon. From above, she heard a yell.
"Hallo down there! Ye need some help?!" chimed Bill, cheerily.
"You and who's army?!"
"Well, the King's as a matter of fact!"
"Oh, well, yes, that should help, certainly! Give me a hand!"
The soldiers formed a human chain, with George and Bill acrobatically leaning down, wrenching on to one another, and then hauling Druxilla up between them. Druxilla looked down over the large cliff. She spotted the speck of the tiny creature, the baby dragon, below her, and considered telling the gathered group as to its whereabouts, and then stopped herself. She had been in that position herself before, and had been left to fend for herself, so that is how she would leave the dragon's offspring, it seemed only fair, for now.
"What took you so long?" she enquired.
"Someone left the oven on/something not as cheesy and crap," replied George.
The King stepped forwards.
"Druxilla de Vort, today you have protected the people of the city, and the King, and have our undue thanks. You have the right to remain as our faithful guardian, and for that we shall be eternally grateful. Will you take us up on that offer?"
"It would be my pleasure," returned Druxilla. "My dragon slaying days are done. It's about time I settled down somewhere, so what better place than here?"
"Quite so. Hurrah for Druxilla de Vort! Hurrah!"
The crowd cheered, waved their hands and some hurled their hats in the air. This was a good day, unless you were a dragon. Perhaps there would be more where that one had come from, but Druxilla would be on hand to repel the invading villain.
THE END
# # #
Steaming Pistons - The Wheels of Industry
by Philbert Chicory
Odg save the Queen! Good old Queen Vitriolica that is! Well, she's not that old. She’s just a slip of a girl at the moment, in fact, that moment being the middle of the 19th Century, although they say that she's had a bit of mechanical tinkering done along the way to keep her pootling along to a ripe, rollicking age. This is why you can sometimes see steam literally pouring out of her ears when she gets grumpy and irritable, which is quite often, actually. As it happens, that’s exactly why they named the new station after her - Queen's Grumpy Station. She wasn't at all amused by that - she almost blew her lid, in fact! I myself was there at the grand opening, myself being Philbert Chicory, one of the most eminent scribes of the time. How on Herat could I possibly miss out on such an auspicious occasion?! There were free cream scones available and everything! Huzzah!
It was of course all taking place in the higgledy-piggledy city of Odnnol, which I am certain that you are all familiar with by now, aren't you? If not, why weren't you paying attention, hey?! Odnnol, Odnnol, Odnnol, the city that occasionally nods off, but otherwise stays awake for most of the time. So great that they had to name it three times so that they could remember it properly. Odnnol, the murkiest, mangiest, most magnificent and miserable city on Herat. A place where street urchins rub, and indeed rob, shoulders with the super rich, where steam-powered carriages pelt through the midnight streets amongst swirling gas-lit mists, where bright, bulbous-headed bachelors attend mysterious masques amidst the belching smoke of the fulminating factory chimneys. An unusual place.
Many diverse oddities and attractions can be discovered at the various fairs and street markets that pockmark the scrambled city, including none other than Hubert Brixley's Dancing Dodos, Mister Mesmeriser (who performs amazing feats of mental dexterity, such as remembering his wife's birthday and when their wedding anniversary is, as well as the birthdays of all of his friends and relatives - a not unastonishing feat indeed!), alongside Magumbo the Clown, Pugliacci the Back-flipping Pug Dog, Rhonda the Beardless Lady, Ezekiel Freakybeak The Bucktoothed Freak, Hot Air Hubert (who can apparently inflate himself with helium and float above the audience of spectators below right across the fractured Odnnol skyline - careful not to get yourself a puncture, Hubert!), The Great Baldini (he has NO HAIR!), the Conjoined Barrister Twins (with their hilarious 'Guilty, Not Guilty, M'lud!' routine), Pollyglot the Magnificent Multilingual Parrot and The Human Badger Family (we’re currently trying to collect the full sett).
As it transpired, I was present at the inaugural reception for the opening of the splendid new steam train interchange lovingly named Queen's Grumpy Station. It was a truly spectacular affair. Huge swathes of bunting bedecked the sturdy metal beams that made up the station's mighty criss-crossing frame, while hoards of raving patriotic common folk madly fluttered their flags, crammed tightly into the Commoners area down in the pits, where they belonged, of course. We can't possibly allow them to make the place look messy and try to move up in the world, now can we? They might start getting ideas above their station!
An opulent display of pomp and ceremony presented itself before the gathered dignitaries, as well as, at one particular point, an impudent example of pump and ceremony, when a railway official pumped water from the water butt that was used to provide water for the steam trains. There was also a demonstration of pompom and circumstance by the Odnnol Spinsters Cheerleading Society, which was a sight to behold, and not one that I will be forgetting for quite a while, may I tell you. It was a remarkable demonstration, as impressive as any I have ever seen before or since (and I've seen a few, believe you me).
However, as is the case with this kind of public gathering, it will always attract one or two, shall we say, 'disreputable types'? None could be more disreputable and downright dastardly than that redoubtable rapscallion and scurrilous scoundrel known as one Penny Luddfear, the appalling little waif and wastrel that she was. She wore extremely strange, some may even say suggestive, black apparel, which was most unbecoming and ungainly for a young lady, and indeed an older lady too, but she was no lady of any kind of standing, in any road, or away from any roads also. Her brass cog monogoggle twinkled in the smoggy daylight, searching for something that I could not quite make out myself, not owning one of those unsightly things myself, you see? Well, I didn’t.
Some of my literary colleagues who were also in attendance made reference to the unusual attire of the notorious Penny. My esteemed colleague Bharles Chickens himself clucked away lustily to those around him willing to listen to his illustrious balderdash about how there was always a Bad Penny that turned up on such occasions.
Miss Luddfear, the svelte, spindly, spider-like silhouette with the black beret and black-and-white-striped top, surveyed the ramshackle crowd, examining the other dignified dignitaries and debutante daughters on display (some with perhaps more on display than was entirely appropriate for polite society, I must say). Some serious men smoked long, metallic pipes, while others sported self-raising top hats which automatically adjusted and doffed themselves to the gentry as and when it was deemed appropriate, depending on who was within view. One man even wore a stovepipe hat that contained a real stove, with a small ventilation pipe poking to one side, syphoning off any unwanted smoke, but after a while his head became too sweltering hot and he had to go home to have a lie down, sticking his burning bonce head first into a full bath-tub to cool it down. Steam rose. Such was the way that people suffered for fashion.
Penny was a lightning rod for danger and disaster. Wherever she went, calamity struck nearby. Penny was an orphan who had raised herself by her own bootstraps in the unseemly slums of Odnnol amongst the fallen, forlorn folk, fending and fighting for her very livelihood by herself. She certainly had charm, that is true, and a curiously appealing allure, but was far too wild and unruly for any gentrified gentleman to ever take an interest in, a
nd believe you me, many have tried and many have suffered because of it.
It was at that very moment that Penny spotted the very personage that she had been looking for - Professor Richard Diligence. Professor Diligence was a decent sort of chap. His brain was known throughout the Tribish Empire as being the size of Tenk, although not many people knew exactly how large Tenk was, so it wasn't so much of a searing judgement. They just knew that it was large, and that was what mattered.
Some claimed that Diligence himself was part of some kind of crazed government experiment to create a superhuman being. Others still purported that he had experimented on himself, using the latest technological advancements of the steam age to enhance his own inate powers and skills. In many ways, if any of this were true, you could very well say that he was the very definition of a modern Self-made Man.
The Professor personally stated that he was using new developments in science for the good of all mankind, Queen and country. If anything, this was a shrewd move; but his real motives were a closely guarded secret, not least by himself.
A monstrous train whistled and chugged its way up to its respective buffer stopping point, adjoining the buffers at the end of the platform with a shuddering clang, where it came to a full wheezing halt. The driver got out, mopped his hands with a cloth, and went for a cup of tea, as drivers are wont to do. Penny, seizing her moment, darted across from where she stood in the commoners' area, vaulting the barrier with ease, and came lunging across the promenade towards the Professor with alarming alacrity.
"Good gracious!" gurgled the Professor. "This filthy filly has bolted the stable and really made a run for it! I'd better stop her from causing any mischief and get this situation under control! We don't want any mishaps, ballyhoo or funny business going on before old Queen Vitri gets here, or it will not be a ticketty boo do at all!"
The entire structure of the station had been carefully, immaculately designed by Professor Diligence and his team. He was there to ensure that everything ran like clockwork, so to speak. Seeing as how many parts of the station actually did run by clockwork, this shouldn't have been too tricky, but the last thing that he needed was some ne'er-do-well interloper interfering in the proceedings. He had, of course, accounted for ne'er-do-well interlopers interfering in the proceedings too, and as this was the eventuality, made the secret signal to a band of plain-clothed robobobbies to come forward and arrest the girl. The robobobbies always got their man, or indeed, woman. Women, of course, should really know their place, which is of course in the home, preferably under lock and key, if gentlemen of the time have anything to do with it. They should not in any way be encouraged to go stampeding across newly-built station forecourts causing a tumultuous affray. Why, it simply is not the done thing. I mean, what would Aunt Agatha say?! "It simply is not the done thing," probably.
So, with tremulous, trembling apprehension, I leant forwards slightly closer to see what was happening. Miss Luddfear was somehow spin-kicking the automated police officers away, with nuts and bolts flying across the platform. She really did give them a good kick in the nuts, it must be said.
Penny was causing an almighty stir, nay rumpus, when the worst of all eventualities that could have arisen arose - Queen Vitriolica herself arrived, to trumpeted fanfare. The celebratory band piped up, beginning the jaunty national anthem, causing all present to stand firmly to attention, as indeed they should, including the robobobbies, who were programmed to respond as such, leaving Miss Luddfear free to catch her breath and pursue her nefarious, traitorous, insidious, notorious, uproarious ends.
A terrible hoo-hah looked set to ensue, and it invariably did. Whatever would Aunt Agatha say?! "What a terrible hoo-hah is ensuing!" is probably what she would say. She's a very blunt lady like that, is Aunt Agatha. She doesn't pull her punches, especially when she's had too much punch. She’s got a mean left hook.
I emitted a shrill view-hollah, but to no avail. Penny was a lady not to be distracted by such eruptions, and continued careering towards the standing engine in a manner not unakin to a train itself. She was almost apprehended by one of the smarter mechanised police officers, who pounced on her from off of the roof of the train, while simultaneously singing the national anthem to save face, but Penny managed to wrestle it off, hurling it to the floor, where it shattered its brittle frame into many pieces. She reached behind herself to reveal her trademark instrument, the one and only Discordion, a form of discordant accordion, engraved with skulls and bones and all manner of intricate engravings, that made one hell of a racket when she played it, and was a hefty piece of equipment that could cause serious damage to boot, not to mention her bulky boots. She propelled the instrument into the robobobby’s face, concertinaing its head inwards, with nothing left but a billow of bluish grey smoke.
"You should've listened to the band!" she sneered, stepping closer to Professor Diligence until she was directly in front of him, within a whisker of his not unimpressive whiskers.
"What on Odg's good Herat do you call this most uncivil interruption, young lady?!" bawled Diligence at the top of his voice.
"Don't be a total bloated buffoon, Diligence! You should've realised that this place isn't safe at all! These people are in mortal danger!"
"This place isn't safe?!" repeated Diligence like a parrot, although not Pollyglot the Magnificent Multilingual Parrot, as she spoke her own mind and nobody else's. "What leads you to such whimsical conclusions? Who could possibly believe such paltry, insolent lies? Why, I designed this place myself!"
By this point Queen Vitriolica's train, by which I mean party, as in group of followers, not large, rail-based transportation vehicle, had fully arrived.
"Well, it just goes to show!" replied Penny.
"What does?" enquired the Professor, looking down at the front of his tweed pantaloons.
"You didn't notice the chemical explosives planted in the engine of the new locomotive that, when ignited to a temperature that's hot enough, will detonate, blowing this entire place and everyone with it sky high, did you?!"
"Ah, um, yes, that was one part that I didn't have oversight over. Hmmm, you may well have something there. But so? What's it to you, street scum?! How do I know that this isn't some fanciful scheme concocted by you and your disruptive chums to interrupt the parade? I thought that you hated the Queen, anyway?"
"I do, and don't care a toss about you or her minions, but I do care about this crowd of normal people who haven't done any harm to anyone in their lives!"
"Well, that's debateable, but I know what you're getting at. How do you know that there's a plot afoot, anyway?"
"We in the underground have eyes everywhere. Deals were done, things were seen. I know what's going on, and don't doubt that I don't!"
"Really?"
"And what about that large plume of purple smoke that's coming from the engine?!"
"Ah. Yes. Right, you may indeed have a salient point right there. Well, why come to me in person now?"
"Because you're the only person who has the ability to shut down the engine and the knowledge with which to get rid of it. You built this place, you must know where there's somewhere safe that you can contain the blast if it were to occur, mustn't you?"
"Really, now, I don't know that I do..."
"Well you'd better think fast, otherwise this place is going to be redecorated in a decidedly explosive new fashion!"
"Tally ho, old girl! Chin up, and follow me!"
They belted across the concourse with a lot of hustle and bustle going on around them. Diligence laid down the law, literally in one case, when a robobobby came forwards to apprehend Penny with an extendable arm (otherwise known as 'the long arm of the law'), and he took it out with a swift left hook that he'd learnt off Aunt Agatha.
Bad Moon E-Zine #2 - Blue Moon Page 4