Mr Badger started to get slightly concerned after Handel stopped saying
their destination "was down the road' and starting saying "around here
somewhere." They'd been in the car for hours now (at least one) so both
their patiences were getting low. Inside both their minds could be heard
the same internal voice "we're not going to ask for directions, we're not
going to ask for directions.." "Look over there!" Shouted Badger as his keen
eyesight (compared to a whale's that is) spotted the road sign. "It's over
that way."
"Got it Badger," smiled Handel as he turned down the lane toward their
destination. Handel was momentarily concerned as he was sure the motorway
before had been at least four lanes wide and didn't go into the misty valley
but it had been a few months since he was last around these parts and
Auckland is growing at a shit load of knots so...
As the car passed a pair of golden eyes shone from high up the tree. Dressed
in black billowing robes the figure was barely noticeable in the darkness.
Small nimble hands rotated the sign until it pointed back the way the car
had come. "They come Master," whispered the black clothed servant of the
night into a radio. As silently as he had waited the figure disappeared into
the night.
Handel spent as much time looking around as he did driving. "Hey Badger,
have these canals been here all the time?" Asked Handel as he past another
pagoda.
"Yeah, I'm sure they have. Part of that water reclaim scheme we heard so
much about," answered Badger as he looked at all those crescent shaped hats.
"Those black pyjamas must be the latest fashion I suppose. Never mind,
there's BigJobb's car over there." Handel nodded and parked right beside.
No-one noticed the black robed figure reach up and speak into a microphone.
"This must be Little Tokyo, nah make that Big Tokyo, I mean BigJobbs fits in
here after all. Amazing how fast they build these places isn't it?" Handel
nodded once more. The pagodas around them were lit up by lanterns, all
except one.
Inside the unlit pagoda one man stood with hands clasped behind his back
watching the visitors. "So my adversaries you come into my trap like the
grasshopper feeds from the ant which than dies like a lotus flower shrinks
in the rain storm before the winters cold. You may have bested my brothers
in Blood but now you face a greater storm of fury than the tempest of focus
that crashed on the rocks of your foolish defiance," whispered the watcher
who was an Assamite in case you hadn't guessed. This Assamite was the last
but greatest of the 47th circle. He was the surviving brother of the band
who were contracted to attack Handel and Badger during the Madness of the
Sphinx. Unsurprisingly he was just a smidgen pissed off. In fury at the
confines of his Clan he threw away the traditions and swore a bloody and
overly dramatic end to these two destroyers of the blood. Assamite
traditions holds that if you survive the hunt against you then you are
protected against further attacks by the Clan. This Assamite thought that
whole idea was a bit faggy. He wanted revenge and he wanted it on his own
terms with people dressed in black pyjamas running around the place. The
time had finally come for the pact with honour to be satisfied. As Badger
and Handel walked into the restaurant Roger ordered his people into action.
"Lads! Over here, all you can eat night! Is that lucky or what?" Shouted
BigJobbs as a very nervous looking restaurant owner stood by him. As Mr
Badger got stuck into a small country's worth of noodles the owner finally
allowed himself a strangled cry of impending bankruptcy and walked off
sobbing. Handel looked up as he didn't see a black robed figure swing from
the rafters above them.
"Did you see that guys?" Asked Handel as he didn't see another figure do the
same thing.
"You mean that figure who moved with grace as if he were as one with the
night as within his or her self?" Asked Mr Badger in hushed tones. Handel
nodded and looked around again just in time to miss a form in black pyjamas
figure scuttle under their table. "Nah, must have been a cat. Yeah a cat
practising a trapeze act or something." Handel nodded as Mr Badger sounded
so sincere when he suggested that. With a blink Handel threw of the final
vestiges of the Dementation and gave Badger a very dirty look. Badger and
BigJobbs laughed and got on with their meal. As such no-one noticed the
figure in black pyjamas set up the very heavy weapon under the table across
from them, no-one except the cat practising the trapeze act above the
Vampire's table. In minutes the room supported a black pyjama wearing
population that would have Oliver Stone tearing his hair out in envy. The
three Vampires were oblivious to this as they each challenged the physical
laws in who could pile their plate the highest. BigJobbs won by the way but
this is unimportant for the following story, never the less it pays to have
attention to detail with these matters.
Roger timed his entrance to perfection, each of our Heroes had a mouthful of
food. With a well practised throwing open of the doors he strode into the
room as if he owned it (actually he did but that's also unimportant in the
long run). His opening statements however were somewhat hindered by his
subsequent, to the surprise factor that is, wiping off of a number of prawns
from his face. Instead of shock and horror written on the trapped hated ones
faces there were instead a few wry smiles and a chuckle or two, oh and a bit
of rice.
"You will not remember me but oh do I remember you and your work,"
hissed Roger as he wiped off the last of the projectile food. Roger was
dressed in a pair of pants with legs so wide they had so far gone from the
category of flares they were right up there as supernovas. Being of a
nautical slant Handel was most impressed as that amount of excess linen is
generally saved for hanging off main masts rather than a person's leg. In
his past BigJobbs had filled in the time making miniature models of ships
and aircraft. As such he couldn't even fathom what amount of internal
bracing would be required to support that much clothing let alone get that
funky whipping effect when you moved. Sort of like carrying around your own
personal applause wherever you go. Mr Badger look a second look as at first
glance it looked like they were being threatened by a pale version of MC
Hammer.
"Ring a bell anyone?" Asked Badger. "Thought not. Sorry mate, so many
enemies and so few brain cells after all." Badger tried not to grin but
Roger hadn't wiped off the final prawn that was lying under his nose. Roger
didn't even try to believe the subsequent coughing fit Badger faked to keep
the momentum going. Some of these amateur villains really need the helping
hand sometimes.
"Mocking me won't gain you any time to regret your actions of hated ones.
Know me by my name, Roger of the 47th circle of Clan Assamite. You have
killed my brothers in Blood now you shall die with my name on your lips."
Snarled Roger as he tried to look all menacing again. He snarled as one of
the many figures in black pyjamas made mention of the final prawn. Turning
his attention back to the three Vampires he didn't notice all the
exaggerated goose stepping going on behind him. As all the figures in black
pyjamas drew their shiny metal blades (all that black and silence than a
shiny blade? What are they thinking when they do that?) they suddenly became
very obvious to their prey. Being used to this sort of thing happening, ie
being mostly blind and absent minded Badger is used to things appearing out
of nowhere around him.
"VD! VD!" Shouted Badger as he dove for cover behind BigJobbs. A number of
high calibre shells and shiny metal blades bounced off BigJobbs as the
ninjas attacked somewhat ineffectively. Handel shook his head but didn't
think this was the time nor the place to correct Badger's mistake in
reference. At least this way he was being lewd rather than politically
incorrect. Roger calmly left his army of ninjas to occupy the three Vampires
while he took position for his next ranting opportunity. BigJobbs grabbed up
a pair of useful but till then idle chop sticks and threatened his attackers
with the cutlery. On one hand/stick blocking attacks and with the other
hand/stick stabbing into his foe BigJobbs soon subdued those around him.
Being more cultured and sick of all the fight scenes we get in stories these
days Handel took the defensive and rescued the Sake he though was being
unduly terrorised on the intervening tables. With the hostages rescued
Handel left the room for a bit of fresh air. Being forever the gentleman he
held open the door as a new wave of black pyjama wearing minions walked like
the wind into the restaurant. As Handel shut the door he could hear the
cries of joy as BigJobbs and Badger had some more people to hit.
As Handel took a look around out side he found Roger half way up the towns
holy building. "Do you want a hand?" Asked Handel as he had a few moments free.
"Yes thanks, that'd be kind of you." Answered Roger as he scrabbled for a
leg hold. With Handel giving him a boost Roger finally made it to the top of
the building and was in position by the time Mr Badger and BigJobbs made it
out side.
"In your own time man, we're in no rush," offered Handel as he could see
Roger was still out of sorts from the climb. BigJobbs used the time to get a
bowl of peanuts from the bar while Mr Badger flossed with a piece of black
pyjama. Parr had been getting at him to look after himself so this seemed to
be a good time to practice.
"Thanks for that, appreciate it," said Roger as he took a deep breath.
"Fools! You think that having defeated.. you have defeated my pupils?
Thought as much. That having defeated my pupils you have beaten their
master?!? Fools, I am like the tree that stands firm in the sandy shallow
soil of a sandy shallow place. I am like the eagle that flies high in the
clouds and can identify a jet intake from a safe distance. I am like the
field mouse that knows how to hot wire a combine harvester. A blah, blah,
blah! Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah!"
"He does go on doesn't he?" Whispered BigJobbs. "Haven't really got to hang
with the ranting thing has he? Shame really, he does put the effort in."
Looking up Handel noticed that Roger managed to spit out the final curse
just as a bolt of lightning back lit him to a treat. Roger looked
embarrassed as he received a round of applause from his so called victims.
"Nicely done that man!" Shouted Mr Badger as he really enjoys a good finish
to a rant. "Can we smack him now?" Handel nodded as it was getting on in the
evening and that restaurant hadn't really bothered to get enough booze in
for his tastes. Roger had just enough time to order in a fresh wave of black
pyjama clothed minions before he fell of the roof due to a fast moving half
brick to the stomach care of BigJobbs.
Handel took a step back to observe the situation. The air around them all
seemed to shimmer as a bizarre interpretation of a Clan discipline was
bought into effect. Every time Handel tried to speak, and the same went for
BigJobbs and Mr Badger, his words sounded flat and uninterested. At the same
time his mouth stretched and contorted in ways not common to the English
language, even the American version.
"Oh crap, we're under attack by bad
dubbing. Must be a strange form of Quietus! Quickly, wave your hands in the
air in circles and slap them on the side of the head. That always works for
Segal!" Such a brilliant tactic had to be a success and so all the minions
were defeated in as much time as it takes to read about it.
As one they all turned as Roger appeared into the fray once more. Roger was
not standing on a hill top to the north of the town. He must have picked
this spot specially as the wind blew his pant legs to perfection for that
most necessary dramatic last statement. "Do not think you have won the war
hated ones! I shall escape and reap most revenge upon you all, twice with
extra cheese!" With that final phrase Roger leapt off the hill top and
disappeared from view.
"Nice speech but it had one small but quite important flaw," chuckled Badger.
"You saw that as well eh?" Replied Handel.
"Yeah, it would have gone off a lot better if he'd jumped off that small
hill with the sports car parked at the bottom over there," said Badger as he
pointed to the East. "Rather than that precipice over there," finished
Badger pointing to the North.
"Should we check if he's all right down there?" Asked BigJobbs.
"Nah, it's better not knowing I think. Saves us faking those looks of
complete surprise when he springs the next trap on us." Chuckled Badger.
"And I kind of like him."
With that they climbed back into their vehicles and journeyed once more into
the night.
