Previously

*stirring drumbeat*

Sent to a parking reality for a reason they didn’t comprehend, these misfits promptly escaped got kicked out to the Parodopolis underground. Fifteen minutes later, still wondering what’s going on, they survive as telepathic tapeworm and feckless, garage-rock lovin' host. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can put up with the relentless bickering of:


dull thud and Cressida

#14: Where the Buffalo Roam

dull thud forced his way into his Hell's Bathroom apartment, kicking up swirls of dust. Clothing and records were strewn everywhere, furniture upended, furry mould creeping over teetering piles of empty takeaway tandoori cartons. A nine-iron protruded from the television’s blackened carcass. One window was slightly ajar, enough that several runners of ivy had grown through and were making themselves at home on the kitchen wall.

~~Old place looks much the same,~~ said Cressida. ~~I was worried we might be coming back to a break-in. Or squatters.~~

“And what have ye got against squatters, ye big hypocrite?”

~~Nothing, generally. Just that in Parodopolis they most often turn out to be Nazi vampire geese or useless minor villains or sexy princesses from the dinosaur dimension. It gets complicated.~~

“Fair enough. First things first though,” said thud, shuffling a slalom between empty gin bottles and avoiding the sticky patch, “I'm ravenous. You realise we’ve been living on lentils for a year? Or haven’t, since none of the last year seems actually to have happened. Or something.”

~~That's a bit of an oversimplification...~~

“Not nearly enough of one. Either way, I'm dangerously in shape after all that sea air, macrobiotics and contentment. It's not natural. I need caffeine, cholesterol, refined sugars and alcohol in easy-to-consume format.” He counted them off on his fingers.

~~Marzipan soaked in Tia Maria and fried in beef dripping?~~

“Would be ideal. Then three sleepless nights and coming off second best in a nasty street brawl, just to put us back on an even keel.” thud opened the fridge and very quickly closed it again. “Egh. We have a grand total of no food.” After some time he managed to lay hands on a Paddington Bear mug and a half-empty jar of instant coffee. “Bullseye. Coffee doesn’t go off, right?” He shook the jar and the damp contents remained stubbornly set in a single mass. He tried and failed to chip some off with a spoon. Shrugging, he dispensed with the mug and poured boiling water straight into the jar. The lump dissolved. The results were dark and viscous and smelled of burning tyres.

thud righted an armchair and slumped down by the open window. Hell’s Bathroom was lively tonight; traffic swished along rain-slicked streets, horns blared, sirens wailed and pretty much everyone seemed to be shouting at everyone else. Over this backdrop tapeworm and host surveyed the apartment through the same pair of eyes. thud sipped (and later chewed) at his coffee-sludge while Cressida weighed up the relative merits of tidying up and simple indiscriminate incineration. An hour passed before either spoke.

Then: ~~Well.~~

“Aye.”

~~Like I was saying, strange old life.~~

“Aye.”

~~What should we do now, do you think?~~

thud picked at a hole in his jeans. “I s’pose we ought to lay low for a bit. Just until we know what’s what. And Flint Michigan has probably released about nineteen albums since we were away, so we need to go record shopping.”

~~Thus speaks a man who knows his priorities. But it's a starting point; let's make a list.~~

Under Cressida's direction thud located a working biro. On the back of an envelope from the mountain of junk mail they took turns detailing the matters to investigate.

• new Flint Michigan records
  
• still wanted by ZOXXON?
  
• Fatal Toilet condemned yet
  
• current global threats needing neutralised?
  
• Motherwell F.C.
  
• situation re. Lair Legion
  
• what exactly just happened, anyway?

Cressida paused for a moment. ~~The chap in West Meadow. What was that leaflet he gave you?~~

“Yon thing?” thud pulled the crumpled paper from his pocket. It was headed So you’ve been wiped from existence by a narrative bomb! A cheery cartoon squirrel promised to explain it all. “Oh great. He gave us the kiddie version, and I still have no hope of understanding it.”

~~Narrative bomb? That sounds serious. Add it to the list.~~

thud laid down the empty coffee jar and rubbed his fingers through his hair. “I’m bored of lying low. Let's go jump off something and go to the pub.”

There was an uncomfortable silence. ~~No, Davie. We need to have a talk first.~~

“Uh. Talk. Right.” thud knew what was coming. By now his constant fidgeting had opened the hole in his jeans up into a sizable rent. On his exposed knee he drew a scratchy little picture of a frantic pirate.

~~Listen to me: I don’t want our life just falling back into the old pattern. There has to be more to it than the pub, and the jumping off things, and back to the pub.~~

“Are you criticising my lifestyle choices?”

~~I’m not finished,~~ said Cressida, and now it came pouring out. ~~I had a lot of time to think while we were on the run. About things we could have done differently. Ways to use our talents. Opportunities missed. You realise that we might never have got back to the real world? I think we have to view this as a second chance, a clean slate, and I don't want us to waste it. We're going to be a lot more proactive, and that means - ~~

At this point thud rather took the wind from Cressida's sails by agreeing with her. “Proactive, aye,” he said, drumming on his knees. “That's it. That's the word. Aye. We should be more proactive.”

The Worm Wonder gaped. ~~Do my figurative ears deceive me? Have all those years of nagging finally paid off? Fantastic, Davie! Real progress. Now, to capitalise on this do-gooding fervour, we - ~~

But thud wasn't listening. “Proactive. I just finally know what I have to do. It's all about priorities, Cress. We'll be proactive. Saving people. The family business. Because with great power comes great responsibility. We stand on the edge of a new frontier. It's our duty to meet the challenges of an unjust world and bring light where once was darkness. Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter. Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duties. Let those who worship evil's might beware my power. We shall work as though in the early days of a better nation, for only then, only together, can we forge the future our dreams deserve. Criminals are a superstitious, cowardly lot. They say it can't be done. I say, Yes We Can. Can we fix it? YES! WE! CAN!”

thud collapsed backwards, twitching fitfully.

~~Davie! What's wrong?~~

“Hell's teeth,” he jittered, leaping into a Pertwee karate stance. “After a year of no caffeine that one’s messed me right up.” Heart racing, jigging from foot to foot, he managed at the fourth attempt to zip up his leather jacket. “Woah. This is how CrazySugarFreakBoy! must feel, like, all the time. Rrrrrrr. C’mon Cress, we’ve got diems to carpe.”

~~Go get ’em, tiger. How shall we make the world a better place tonight? Are we working with orphans? Becoming spokesman for a generation? Or are we just beating Indigo Impostor into the ground with a spade?~~

“We're going to the pub. And we're not coming back until I’ve shaken this off.”

He slammed the door behind him. The dust settled. Two Nazi vampire geese, Turbo Treesloth and a sexy princess from the dinosaur dimension crept out from behind the sofa and went to look for somewhere else to live.