Mr. Fox and Rabbit - Part 25
“Where were we…” said the Sorceress. “You are here to defend me from … the Ferengi … who is in high orbit … in some ship or other … and somehow this piss moat helps.”
Dr. Bear nudged Mr. Fox. “And the microscope.”
“Yes, electron microscope,” smiled Mr. Fox. “We need the Electron Microscope to find… hum…”
“Shannon?” said the Sorceress, thoughtful.
“Yeah.”
“Why, again?”
“Because once we find her on the map we will know where we are and where we are headed.”
“Couldn’t you use a magical concept called an address?” said the Sorceress, dry as a glass of vodka without the vermouth.
“She is trying to curse us!” boomed Dr. Bear in a nearly silent whisper. “She is speaking magickal words!”
“No doubt, no doubt.”
The Sorceress swiveled her head until it faced the stain on the floor. “Is your … uhm … companion DEAD?”
“Rabbit…?”
“Yes, I suppose.”
“No. He just exploded so he could attempt to mate with a gaseous anomaly,” mentioned Dr. Bear the crux of the matter.
“What gaseous anomaly?”
Mr. Fox pointed at a blue and red cloud attempting to get away from a suspiciously familiar white puff of gas with glowing red dots where the ‘eyes’ should have been. There was also a long, rigid white
“WAND,” said the Sorceress, fixing the cloud with a baleful eye and completing/cutting the description off in the geometric centre. “Will he stay in gaseous form?”
“Well, as long as Rachel puts out…” Mr. Fox trailed off and cringed. “I am so going to get cursed for this.”
“HIBISCUS SEMPER FIDELIS!” chanted the Sorceress, and suddenly a device of staggering complexity appeared next to a field house of succulent brie. “Behold: the Microscope of Yore.”
In the meantime, Rachel floated to the edge of the moat, pursued by the amorous gasRabbit. The Sorceress summoned a bolt action shot gun from the thin air and leveled the barrel at the floating bunny’s head. “You have 20 seconds to comply now you only have five kaboom,” she chanted in an unbroken monotone, fired, and Rabbit, solid again, fell on his ass.
“That was some solid lead,” he said.
“Solid enough, looks like,” said the Sorceress. “Get lost.”
“Okay… what about my wish?” said Dr. Bear.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” said the Sorceress. She reached into a magickal box and tossed over a heart made of cheese. “Here.”
Dr. Bear stared at it, weeping with gratitude, then ate it. “Tastee…” he mumbled.
“Will we ever see you again?” said Dr. Bear with superstitious fear.
“Not bloody likely,” said the Sorceress. “First of all… By the Egg, I don’t even know where to begin. First find Shannon. I estimate you only have 3243292342934820 microbes to examine before you find her on that map.”
“I underestimated the power of the dark side,” said Mr. Fox. “That would take too long,” he bit into the microscope, taking out a healthy chunk with his incisors.
Dr. Bear nudged Mr. Fox. “And the microscope.”
“Yes, electron microscope,” smiled Mr. Fox. “We need the Electron Microscope to find… hum…”
“Shannon?” said the Sorceress, thoughtful.
“Yeah.”
“Why, again?”
“Because once we find her on the map we will know where we are and where we are headed.”
“Couldn’t you use a magical concept called an address?” said the Sorceress, dry as a glass of vodka without the vermouth.
“She is trying to curse us!” boomed Dr. Bear in a nearly silent whisper. “She is speaking magickal words!”
“No doubt, no doubt.”
The Sorceress swiveled her head until it faced the stain on the floor. “Is your … uhm … companion DEAD?”
“Rabbit…?”
“Yes, I suppose.”
“No. He just exploded so he could attempt to mate with a gaseous anomaly,” mentioned Dr. Bear the crux of the matter.
“What gaseous anomaly?”
Mr. Fox pointed at a blue and red cloud attempting to get away from a suspiciously familiar white puff of gas with glowing red dots where the ‘eyes’ should have been. There was also a long, rigid white
“WAND,” said the Sorceress, fixing the cloud with a baleful eye and completing/cutting the description off in the geometric centre. “Will he stay in gaseous form?”
“Well, as long as Rachel puts out…” Mr. Fox trailed off and cringed. “I am so going to get cursed for this.”
“HIBISCUS SEMPER FIDELIS!” chanted the Sorceress, and suddenly a device of staggering complexity appeared next to a field house of succulent brie. “Behold: the Microscope of Yore.”
In the meantime, Rachel floated to the edge of the moat, pursued by the amorous gasRabbit. The Sorceress summoned a bolt action shot gun from the thin air and leveled the barrel at the floating bunny’s head. “You have 20 seconds to comply now you only have five kaboom,” she chanted in an unbroken monotone, fired, and Rabbit, solid again, fell on his ass.
“That was some solid lead,” he said.
“Solid enough, looks like,” said the Sorceress. “Get lost.”
“Okay… what about my wish?” said Dr. Bear.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” said the Sorceress. She reached into a magickal box and tossed over a heart made of cheese. “Here.”
Dr. Bear stared at it, weeping with gratitude, then ate it. “Tastee…” he mumbled.
“Will we ever see you again?” said Dr. Bear with superstitious fear.
“Not bloody likely,” said the Sorceress. “First of all… By the Egg, I don’t even know where to begin. First find Shannon. I estimate you only have 3243292342934820 microbes to examine before you find her on that map.”
“I underestimated the power of the dark side,” said Mr. Fox. “That would take too long,” he bit into the microscope, taking out a healthy chunk with his incisors.
posted by Balázsy András at 8:11 AM
4 Comments:
Maybe it's the headache, but I don't get that at all.
It's the headache.
Is there anything I have to take(painkillers, alcohol etc) before reading the rest of the Mr Fox and Rabbit posts?
Well... Both help, but nothing is really vital to enjoyment. Context helps; you can get the context by reading all the entries, not just Mr. Fox and Rabbit.
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