Authors: Robert Rankin
Dilbert
smiled once more into the cameras and the viewers caught once more his power.
And
their heads bobbed up and down. They were really glad that he was back. Really,
yes, really, they were, yes they were.
‘I’m really pleased that
you know how to fly this helicopter,’ said Porrig to the old bloke, who was the
old bloke once more.
‘Do you
have your plan all worked out?’
Well, I
would have liked to have stopped off to pick up some stage props, but I think I
can manage without them.’
‘You
seem very confident, Porrig.’
‘Yes I
do,’ said Porrig. ‘Although I can’t imagine why.’
‘Oh
look,’ said Rippington, peeping over Porrig’s shoulder. ‘The Chippendales are
waking up.’
The old
bloke shook his ancient head, his dogeared crests of hair a-wagging as he did
so. ‘Go and help the buggers, Porrig,’ said he. ‘Check that I didn’t break any
bones.’
Porrig
unstrapped himself and lifted Rippington down. The two of them edged back
through the helicopter, which was now moving across the sky at a fair old kind
of a lick.
‘How
are you doing?’ said Porrig to Danbury.
The
callow youth rubbed at his head. ‘People keep hitting me,’ he said.
‘I know
the feeling. Sir John?’
‘Fine,’
said the long man, who didn’t look fine. ‘But you see what I mean about women?
Whatever brought on such violence? PMT would be my guess.’
‘I
think you’d better keep your misogynist remarks to yourself from now on.’
‘Listen
to you,’ said Rippington. What is this, the new Porrig, or something?’
‘Or
something. You all right, doctor?’
‘Neck’s
a bit stiff,’ said Dr Haney, sitting up. ‘The girlie used Dimac, didn’t she?’
Porrig
nodded. ‘But you’re quite safe. The, er, girlie has gone. We have a chap flying
the helicopter now.’
‘Good
thing too,’ said Sir John.
‘Easy,’
said Porrig.
‘Quite
so.’
‘Porrig
has a plan to destroy the monster,’ said Rippington.
‘Sir
John has a plan too,’ said Danbury. ‘Although I do have a “certain feeling”
about it.’
‘Not
surprised,’ said Rippington. ‘I can hear him thinking it and it’s a really crap
plan.’
‘It is
not.’ Sir John climbed slowly to his feet.
‘lt’s
as bad as the bomb in the beard.’
‘The
what?’ asked Porrig.
‘Bomb
in a beard,’ said Rippington. ‘Sir John’s previous failed plan to destroy the
monster. Brave attempt though.’
‘Thank
you,’ said Sir John. ‘And I do take responsibility for what’s happened. If only
the Americans had not reached the monster first.’
‘They
would never have reached it first,’ said Rippington. ‘If Dr Harney hadn’t
tipped them off.’
‘Outrageous,’
said the doctor, jumping to his feet. ‘I did no such thing. Which way is this
helicopter flying?’
‘He did
too,’ said Rippington. ‘I can hear him thinking it.’
‘The
creature’s mad.’ The doctor fiddled at his underpants.
‘Dr
Harney is a CIA agent, planted in the Ministry of Serendipity,’ said
Rippington. ‘And it was he who bribed the head man of the island village to
duff up Sir John and nick his beard.’
‘You
bastard,’ said Sir John, taking a swing at the doctor.
‘Back
off,’ said Dr Harney, drawing out a pistol. ‘Blimey!’ said Danbury. Where did
he keep that pistol hidden?’
‘Hands
up all of you.’ Dr Haney motioned with his pistol. ‘It’s true, Sir John. It’s
all true.’
‘But
why?’ the long man asked. ‘I thought we were friends.’
‘Ptah!’
went Dr Harney, in the manner much favoured by villains. ‘I was sick of playing
second fiddle to you. Watching you poncing about and getting all the credit for
everything we did together.’
Sir
John hung his high head. ‘I have failed everyone,’ he said dismally.
Dr
Harney turned his pistol upon Porrig. ‘Tell the pilot to change course,’ he
said. ‘Any nearer to London and we will be caught in the blast.’
‘Er,
excuse me,’ said Porrig. ‘But, blast, did you say? What blast is this?’
‘The
five megaton nuclear blast. The Americans are preparing to—’
‘Nuke
the creature,’ said Danbury. ‘No wonder I had a “certain feeling”. What did I
tell you right from the start? It will end in nuking, I said. But did anybody
listen? Oh no, take no notice of Danbury. When I said nuke it now, what did you
say? There will be no nuking, you said. And what’s going to happen now? Nuking,
that’s what’s going to happen, and I OUCH!’
Danbury
fell fainting to the floor.
Rippington
examined the tip of his magic wand. Works a treat up the old chocolate
speedway, doesn’t it?’
‘What
is going on?’ Porrig made fists with his upraised hands. What is all this about
nuking?’
The
only way to be sure,’ said Dr Harney. ‘I radioed back to my base in America
after we got off the train.’
Where
do you keep your radio?’ asked Sir John.
‘Same
place that I keep my pistol.’
‘He
does have a very big me,’ said Rippington.
‘I do
not!’
‘Oh yes
you do.’ Rippington waggled his small one about.
Dr
Harney brought his gun to bear upon the imp.
Sir
John kicked it out of his hand and floored him with a mighty blow.
‘Nice
one, Sir John,, said Rippington. ‘I thought you might do that if I distracted
his attention.’
What
are we going to do?’ Porrig asked.
Well,’
said Rippington. ‘You could get the doctor’s radio, call his base in America
and get them to call off the nuking.’
What
are we going to do?’ Porrig asked.
Well,’
said Rippington. ‘You could get the doctor’s radio and… Oh, you heard me
the first time, didn’t you?’
Porrig
nodded.
‘And
you don’t fancy… er…’
Porrig
nodded again.
‘Oooooooooooooooooh,
my bum,’ moaned Danbury, coming round.
‘Bum
jokes,’ said Rippington. ‘Makes a change from knob gags, I suppose.’
‘But
what are we going to do?’
Porrig’s dad knew exactly
what
he
was going to do.
He
was going to escape in the
HGW 1900
escape pod. Just as soon
as the man in the white coat called Albert returned to tell him that all was
prepared.
The man
in the nameless coat came sauntering up. ‘Sir,’ said he. ‘You know you told me
to make sure all the TVs were switched off?’
Augustus
nodded and lurked a bit lower. Well, I did that, sir. But while I was in the
communications room, I happened to overhear a message being sent on the
Americans’ top secret waveband.’
‘The
one that they don’t know that we know about?’
‘Yes,
that very one. And you’ll never guess in a thousand years what they were saying
on it.’
‘No,’
Augustus sighed. ‘You’re quite right there. Because I don’t give a toss.’
‘Oh you
should, sir. You really should.’
‘All
right.’ Augustus sighed once more. ‘I’ve a minute or two to kill before I—’
‘Before
you what, sir?’
‘Never
mind. So you want me to guess, do you? Is it anything to do with Egyptians, or
chickens?’
‘No,
sir. And I must say that the chaps from the other realities we deal with are
keeping a bit of a low profile.’
‘Hardly
surprising that, is it? So, not Egyptians or chickens. Penises?’
‘No,
sir.’
‘Bottoms
then?’
‘Not
even close.’
‘Give
me a clue then.’
‘Right.
It’s something that flies through the air.’
‘Ah,’
said Augustus. ‘Is it one of those big black secret unmarked government
helicopters that we deny all knowledge of having?’
‘No,
sir. Although one of them has gone missing.’
‘An
aeroplane then.’
‘No.’
‘A
rocket?’ ‘Close.’
‘Oh, I’m
bored with this. Tell me what it is.’
‘The
Americans have launched a nuclear warhead from one of their secret satellites
that they don’t know that we know about.’
‘I was
pretty close, then, when I said rocket, wasn’t I?’
‘Very
close. Would you care to guess at the target?’
‘That’s
easy,’ said Augustus. ‘I’ll just bet they’ve targeted London, to wipe out the
monster.’
Well
done, sir. And, for three in a row, would you like to guess how long it will be
before the warhead arrives?’
‘Easy
too, I can work that out in my head. About thirty minutes I’d say.’
‘Close
enough, well done.’
‘Now it’s
my turn,’ said Augustus. ‘I spy with my little eye, something beginning with… Hold on… Would you care to run all that by me again?’
‘Hold on. Hold on,’ said
Porrig in the helicopter. Whatever are we worrying about?’
‘The
nuke, I think,’ said Rippington.
‘No, I
mean, think about it. If the Ministry of Serendipity controls just about
everything, then they’re perfectly capable of knocking an approaching missile
out of the sky.’
‘Of
course they are,’ said Sir John.
‘Of
course they are,’ said Rippington.
‘Of
course they are,’ said Porrig.
‘Are
you quite certain?’ Danbury asked, ‘Because I have a “certain—”
‘Are you quite certain of
this?’ asked Augustus Naseby, growing quite white in the face.
‘Quite
certain, sir. The warhead will reach ground zero in a little less than fifteen
minutes.’
‘Then
only one course of action lies open.’
‘Engage
the nuclear defence network that the Americans don’t know we have?’
‘The
very same.’ Augustus delved into his shirt and brought out one of those special
keys on a chain that very very top brass always carry with them for unlocking
and arming the nuclear capability.
He
flipped up a section of desk top to reveal one of those special units with the
flashing lights and the big red button with keyhole arrangement that goes the
special key in question.
Augustus
Naseby inserted the special key and gave it a twist. The word ARMED sprung up
on a little screen.
‘It’s a
jolly good job the Americans don’t know we have this,’ said the man in the
white coat, which, although nameless, was growing a little sweaty at the
armpits.
Why?’
asked Augustus.
Well,
sir, if the Americans knew, then they would have encoded a scrambler into their
warhead that would cut all our power.’
‘You’re
not wrong there, I suppose.’ ‘Better push the button, sir.’ ‘Right then, I
will.’ Augustus reached to push the button. But all the lights went out.
23
‘Bugger me,’ said Augustus
in the dark. ‘Was that an order, sir?’
‘Who
said that?’
‘I did,
sir. Man in a white coat called Julian.’
‘Have
you got a big torch?’
‘No,
sir, it’s just the way my trousers hang. Ouch!’
Well at
least I’ve found the stick.’
‘I’ve
got a torch, sir,’ said another voice.
‘Who’s
that?’
‘Man in
the white coat called Albert, sir. If you’d care to follow me, I think we
should be heading for the top secret steam-turbine-driven Victorian escape pod
that is cunningly disguised as a well-known London landmark. Sir.’
‘What
escape pod?’
‘Who
said that?’
Who
said “who said that”?’
‘I did.’
Who are
you?’ Who’s asking?’
‘Sir, I
really think you should follow me now.’ Well switch your torch on then, you
twat.’ ‘I haven’t gut a torch.’
‘But I
thought you said—’
‘I’m
the one with the torch, sir.’ The man in the white
coat called Albert switched on his torch. Its name was Trevelyan.
‘Nice
torch,’ said Augustus.
‘Thanks,’
said Trevelyan. Who said that?’ ‘Just follow me, sir.’ Who said
that?’
‘That
was me,’ said the pig. ‘It’s fun this, isn’t it? Does anybody have a plan?’
‘So that’s my plan,’ said
Porrig, who bad been outlining his plan in the cockpit area of the long black
secret unmarked Ministry of Serendipity helicopter. What do you think of it then?’