The Aimless Quest of Bungston Shag
Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10. Chapter 11. Chapter 12. Chapter 13. Chapter 14. Chapter 15. Chapter 16. Chapter 17. Chapter 18. Chapter 19. Chapter 20. Epilogue.Chapter 7
They were on their way back to the cabana, where it was a beautiful morning. A legion of crabs, somehow sensing the absence of its owners, had converted the unfortunate woven reed mat into chaff and allowed it to blow along the beach. The crabs had, however, had been less lucky with the storm door, and the cabana interior had remained mostly sand-free. The coil landed gently on the beach and burrowed in, leaving Robigus, Napoleon and Bungston standing on the shore. Robigus immediately crouched low, darting determined looks up and down the beach, then back to the black prehistoric temple. Seeing no opposition, he turned to Bungston with his hand poised above his sheathed sword. "Shall we sneak inside or take it by storm?"
Bungston shrugged. "Sneak in," suggested Napoleon. The three snuck into the cabana, where Napoleon threw himself on the salty old couch and Bungston went off to the bathroom. Robigus was baffled. "This is where Bung and I live," explained the reclining dog. "Make yourself at home."
"What of our quest?", demanded the warrior after removing his crimson crested helmet. Napoleon shrugged and recovered a tattered porno from a pile of literature by the couch.
"I guess Bungston wanted to think up a plan or hide the gold we got or something like that. All our equipment is here, anyway." Robigus was vastly dissappointed with the lackluster beginning of this quest and began to wander disconsolately about the cluttered cabana. He apathetically eyed a strange cluster of chrome globes nestled in a bowl of corn chip remnants, then walked over to the altar and toyed with a lawn dart stuck in the acoustic tile. The mutant on the couch looked him over critically. "You know, Bob" he ground out, "you could use some color. Why don't you grab a lawn chair and catch some rays?" In the absence of any other task for him to do, Robigus followed the suggestion and went outside.
He was soon joined by Bungston, who crashed sans chair. After a little while he recommended that Robigus remove his armor to facilitate the tanning process. There was a very slight offshore breeze, and far in the distance over the Black Sea the vapor trails of Russian fighters on patrol could be seen. It was indeed an idyllic day, free of raucous beverage vendors and pesky naked children. Actually, mused Bungston in the red world behind his sunlit eyelids, beverage vendors wouldn't be too bad. He could use a cool gooey Mello Yello, paid for with a single piece of gold. And there was something to be said for pesky naked children, especially female children about 16 or 17. Maybe this magical thing was hidden on the French Riviera. "Robigus, what do you think of the idea that the... what's it called?" Robigus said nothing. "OK, this magic deal has washed up on a beach. From a secret pirate trove. And even now it is lying unnoticed beneath the shifting sands." `Shifting sands' was a nice dramatic touch, thought Bungston. He waited for a reply, but got none. Then he turned to look at the rather rude warrior beside him.
Robigus had visibly shriveled in the sun, his skin drying out like a hungover grape well on its way to raisinhood. Barely audible creaking noises emanated from his mouth. Sun is bad for a mildew god. Bungston bellowed for Napoleon and the two of them grabbed the chaise lounge and hustled in back into the cabana, where they liberally doused Robigus with water. Bungston collected all of the socks and dishrags he could find and piled them on the recumbent warrior, such objects being very conducive to mold and mildew. Robigus was soon back to normal.
Time passed slowly at the cabana. Restricted to the indoors, Robigus fiddled with the dysfunctional Teakwood Harley that was kept in a back room, adding and modifying parts according to his whims. Prince Charming had thoughtfully included several sandwiches along with the sack of gold, and after one false start involving lutefisk Bungston was able to convert these into truly delectable abalone burgers. All in all, life continued more or less as it had before the sudden excursion to Avalon. Robigus was beside himself but did his best to conceal it. He eventually persuaded himself that Bungston's occasional studies were devoted to finding the magical treasure, and this was partly true. The slip of paper upon which the name of the item was written had been in the top of the Inconspicuous Garb, which misunderstood Buffy probably still had in her closet. Bungston could not for the life of him remember what it was called. Robigus didn't know either, and it seemed Napoleon never had known in the first place. The wizard pored over all the weighty tomes he had, looking for any mention of a magic item which might stir his memory. "Hapsburg glass... no, asparase, no that's those girls,... casper's ass..." He had less luck than Angar Firestorm. Even after summoning up reams of new books, he could find no mention. After a herculean effort he managed to summon up his Inconspicuous Garb all the way from Buffie's closet, but it had been washed and pressed and all the contents of the pockets removed. Bungston spent less and less time in study as the days wore on. Eventually he took the wrapped carriage on a secret fact finding mission to Cyprus, coincidentally returning with edibles to restock the empty refridgerator. The carriage proved much more comfortable that either the railway gun or a helicopter.
After several days, Napoleon could no longer stand the crippled noises coming from the motorcycle Robigus spent his time torturing. The shaggy mutant shambled in to the spare room, trying not to look at the mangled remnants of machinery strewn about. He had to give Robigus credit for oiling the teak, though. The warrior looked up from where he was connecting an exhaust pipe directly to the handlebars, at the same time trying to keep his decomposing garments anchored on his shoulders. Napoleon made a vague gesture to the operation in progress. "Bob, Bob," he rasped, "maybe you should give the cycle a rest. Let it heal. It'll wait. I hate to steal your fun, but isn't there anything else you like to do?"
Robigus thought a bit. "Swordfight?" he suggested.
Napoleon shook his huge head. "Sorry dude. I can never get a grip on the things or I'd give it a try."The warrior bent his head in thought again. "From time to time I enjoy the hunt. Perhaps that would be possible?"
Again Napoleon shook his head. "Naw, we got to stay out of the way here. Can't have you bopping around the woods with a gun or we'll have the Russkies coming by and bothering us again. But say! You could fish!"
Robigus brightened at this, and began to pull on his helmet. Napoleon waved his hands. "Naw, naw, you don't need that. Fishing outside sucks here. There's a lot of big rocks and ruins on the bottom that mix everything up, and the good fish like to stay in the stuff that's less salty farther out. You'd need a boat to get to the good fish, and then we'd have to make one or get Bung to summon one up. But let me show you something." The mutant led the way to the bathroom.
Originally, the prehuman temple had not been equipped with indoor plumbing. Possibly the original inhabitants did not need such facilities, or perhaps there had been a privy of some sort outside which had not weathered the millenia as well as the temple itself. In any case, Bungston definitely wanted some sort of bathroom under the same roof as his bedroom. Running water had been the most difficult thing to achieve, but after several days wandering around with a divining rod and the help of a magically animated length of PVC pipe, the water came out cool and clear. The toilet was easier. There was already a deep pit within the temple, extending down far below sea level where it terminated in what apparently was a cavern partially filled with water. Neither Bungston nor Napoleon had ever ventured down into this subterranean realm, partly because it had been securely capped with a formidable stone seal when the twosome had first moved in, and partly because it had been in use as the de facto toilet since that time. Bungston had built the toilet for security because he had no desire to be surprised while musing over a magazine by whatever was down there that had prompted the builders to cap the hole. The toilet was set up with a double hatch system; the top one was opened for use, then it was closed and the bottom opened to flush, so that at no time was there a clear passage all the way down. Napoleon, however, had figured out a way to circumvent this system. With a little duct tape, two pennies and a well preserved Cossack sabre, the mutant could prop the two hatches open and fish in the cavern below. It was this that he had brought Robigus to see.
Taking care not to singe his shaggy arm, Napoleon struck a flare and then dropped it down into the gaping pit. They watched it fall, growing smaller and smaller, until finally it disappeared into the water below. Robigus nodded and peered again past the sabre bisecting Bungston's toilet. There was no smell. "Some of the best fish come from brackish water, I am told. What do you usually catch, and what baits do you use?"
Napoleon had brought in the fishing rod but given it to Robigus to set up, his own hands bearing scars from clumsy attempts at tying hooks. "Well, I'm not sure what kind of water is down there, but there must be a lot of it. There's eels that are tasty, and they bite at salami or pretty much anything. There's some big lumpy grouper-type things, and they like kittens." Robigus accepted this in stride. "Then there's other stuff, like shoggoth. They go for human heads, I think, but kittens probably work too. Terrible eating. Shoggoth, not kittens. We don't want to catch a shoggoth,"
Robigus had finished tying the three-inch hook onto the line. "Do you have any kittens here?"
Napoleon shook his head no, then went out of the bathroom. He returned with a small rubber object and some other equipment. "Kitten lure," he rasped in his unfinished voice. "Next best thing if you use it right." The big dog found some nutmeg Bungston had grated earlier and massaged it into the rubber kitten for good measure, then passed the kitten to Robigus, who baited up and began lowering the flabby lure into the pit. "One more thing Bob," admonished the maroon mutant standing over him. "If you catch something, and it doesn't put up a fight, cut the line -- fast! And close these hatches." Robigus agreed and Napoleon left him content in the bathroom. The St. Bernard went to find Bungston.
He found the wizard up on top of the cabana patching a leak with some marshmallow creme. Marshmallow patches never lasted long, but when it gave out Bungston could just go up and patch it again. Napoleon planted a foot on the muzzle of a statue and from there jumped up to get an elbow over the edge. After pulling himself onto the roof he crawled over to Bungston. "Bung, when are we going to go find the haberdash thing? It's been a long time."
Bungston perked up. "What? What's it called? Haberdash?"
The mutant shrugged, having trouble balancing on the oddly-sloped roof. "I think so. What's the matter, you don't remember? You have it written down!"
The wily wizard devoted his attention back to his trowel, using it to scratch the persistent patch of mildew on his arm. "Yeah, I was just testing you. But as for our mission... ah, our mission. Well, there are many difficulties."
Napoleon had been scrabbling for balance, and now he lost his footing entirely. He was able to prevent himself from sliding off only by cramming a hand deep into the fissure Bungston was patching. The wizard was unfazed by the disruption of his marshmallow patch, and continued speaking.
"I believe there is a powerful force working against us. Something potent and malevolent." Bungston began to warm up, growing more dramatic. His audience dangled stretched over a steep eight feet of roof, hanging by a paw but listening carefully. "An evil, brooding faction determined to prevent us from succeeding in our quest. A treacherous cabal has hindered our every movement, placed clever obstacles before us, and concealed vital information without which we have no hope. Yet shall we throw up our hands in despair?" Napoleon shook his head vehemently; he was not about to throw up his hands for any reason.
"No indeed!", roared Bungston, brandishing the trowel impressively but flicking marshmallow blobs into Napoleon's fur. "Despite overwhelming odds, despite a legion of foes devoted to our defeat, despite being stymied, thwarted, and foiled at every turn, we shall press on! Our quest is of paramount importance! Paramount importance! We are invincible! And we shall succeed!"
Although Bungston had begun his speech intending to divert Napoleon's attention from the fact that in reality, they had done absolutely nothing but lie on the beach and eat, he had waxed so eloquent that he had persuaded himself. Overwhelmed with determination, he plunged the trowel back into the goo-filled crack, eliciting a yelp from Napoleon and sending him tumbling off the roof with a nicked finger. Bungston leapt nimbly down the roof also, landing much more gracefully than the hapless mutant. The wizard discovered a groaning sandy furball and toed it unmercifully. "This is no time to dawdle!" With that Bungston entered the house.
Big plans require big music, and big music was something for which the cabana was well-equipped. Bungston had acquired a PA system formerly used at Cape Canaveral, and it was capable of putting out tremendous volume. Joined with an ultra-high tech Japanese digital tape player he had summoned accidentally while trying for the hard-to-find video game Crazy Climber, the two monster speakers could deafen anything within the cabana. For this very reason Bungston had painstakingly constructed a filter that worked on the same principle as sunscreen; sunscreen blocked out the rays which could burn you, and this filter blocked out the noises which caused deafness. Soon bellowing bagpipes burst through the cabana, and Bungston waltzed around with his special questworthy Voyageur pack on his back, throwing useful items into the air and then maneuvering under them so that they fell into the spacious pack.
The wizard had only packed a few items when Robigus burst from the bathroom, his fishing pole in one hand and his sword bared in the other. In his haste most of his clothes had fallen off. He was saying something, but it was drowned out. Bungston leapt to the rescue. "Bob! Wait there!" The hand gestures conveyed the message through the whining groans of the pipes, and Robigus stood stoically with rod and sword while his host dashed off among the objects cluttering the recesses of the cabana. Eventually Napoleon staggered in, grimacing at the bagpipe noise. He took a look at the mostly nude gray man standing by the altar, then shambled away to search for beer. Bungston returned bearing a red cardboard box and a pair of white thick-soled shoes. The mildew god accepted the box and opened it, revealing a gleaming white all-polyester disco suit. He felt the synthetic fibers with a cautious gray finger.
"It will never fall apart! You can wear it forever!" Bungston realized he was inaudible because of the music, and so tried to convey his meaning through pantomime. Eventually Robigus put on the suit, using a pair of Bungston's nylon baggies as underwear; it was too short in the leg and sleeve but otherwise a fair fit. Bungston darted in and applied a little rouge to the warrior's gray face. Then he applied a lot more rouge, and a little rouge to his own face, and a little rouge to Robigus' hands and neck. "You are the ultimate party amphibian!" Robigus shook his head and pointed to the throbbing speaker not ten feet from their heads, and so by way of explanation Bungston seized one of the warrior's hands and began to dance to the Scottish march, packing a few more items in the process. Robigus, resplendent in his polyester, realized Bungston was packing and so he picked up a handy sack and gathered his armor.
As he performed the packing dance, Bungston noticed the fishing rod Robigus had left on the altar. The wizard walked over and stroked the rubber kitten, tasted his finger, then pointed to it and cocked his head questioningly. Robigus was shouting something back, but the accordions had kicked in and all hearing was impossible.
Suddenly Napoleon appeared and dashed towards the two, frothing at the mouth and flailing his arms in panic. There was a raw patch on his body where fur and some skin was gone. He made a motion towards the stereo, then seemed to change his mind and instead charged at Robigus and Bungston. With an arm wrapped around each, he carried them toward the exit. Unfortunately Bungston thought it was some sort of joke, and the wizard deftly tripped his frenzied mutant, sending all three of them into a sprawling pile. Then the wizard realized why Napoleon wanted to leave.
It was like a huge stuffed manicotti noodle, flopping its way loathsomely towards the speakers, which continued to blast a fast-paced Scottish march. Occasionally, recognizable features sprouted along its amorphous length; a huge fingered fin, part of a humanoid face, a writhing tentacle surged from the mass only to be reabsorbed moments later. The sole permanent appendage was a series of craters on its front, and these stayed locked on to the source of the music. And the thing was fast. Rather than undulate as one might expect given its limbless form, the entire beast reared up like an inchworm and flung itself forward. The monster did not notice the three beings struggling with each other to rise from the floor until a bulbous lidless squidlike eye emerged from the morass and continued to emerge on a precarious sinew. "HOLY BLAZING BUFFALO BALLS!", screamed Bungston as the eye locked onto him and shot forwards. The pupil of the eyeball metamorphosed into a barbed black spine, but just before this could impale the wizard Robigus brought the crook of a hockey stick down upon its supporting sinews, bearing the whole mass to the floor. Robigus delivered a few more blows to the squirming excrescence before it shot back into the main body. The music was now muffled as the creature enveloped the PA system. Sparks shot through its translucent body. Then Napoleon grabbed wizard and warrior again, bearing them through the storm door and outside without slowing down.
The mutant did not release his burden until they had traversed a considerable distance of beach. Then he set them down and turned panting to glare suspiciously at the ancient edifice brooding on the sand. He spoke slowly and pointedly. "Rob, you didn't close those hatches like I told you to. Look what happened. We could've got killed."
Robigus blustered and puffed a bit, then leveled the hockey stick he had grabbed at Bungston. "I am not to blame! If Bungston had not begun making those loud and terrible sounds, all would have been well! I thought for certain that we were under attack!"
Bungston confronted both mildew god and mutant dog. "WHAT were you doing? Hatches? Shagass, did you jimmy the toilet so he could FISH?" From Napoelon's hangdog expression it was obvious he had. "Those are there for a REASON!", expostulated Bungston, kicking up sand. "It's a good thing the speakers were going so it was distracted away from us, or we would be goners for sure."
"Speakers going?", growled Napoleon in rebuttal. "If you hadn't started making all that noise it never would have come out of the hole! We could be having grouper for supper, but nooooo,"
Magician and mutant fell silent, one prodding sandballs and shells with his toes while the other picked at clots of marshmallow creme in his fur. Robigus spoke up. "All blames aside, that is truly the most loathsome beast I have ever seen. What is it called?"
Napoleon spoke up. "That's a shoggoth; remember, I told you they were bad eating? And loathsome is the word." The shaggy mutant shuddered. "But they don't like sun, so we're probably safe out here until night." There was a crash as a fire extinguisher burst from a window on the forest side of the cabana and hurtled into a tree, exploding its contents of white dust everywhere. "Problem with shoggoth is that not only are they disgusting blobs, but they're sort of smart, too."
"Maybe we could have our wrapped carriage fight with it. Like the Prince said, it has a sort of `rude intelligence'. And that phlegmbomb is pretty rude!" Robigus and Napoleon stared blankly at the wisecracking wizard. Bungston cleared his throat, then clapped his hands. "Well, no time like the present. Let's head out and find the bastargass magic dealy!"
Robigus frowned, then pointed back at the cabana, from which sounds of destruction issued forth. "You are going to leave that monster in your house?"
The wizard shrugged. "Got any ideas how to make it leave?" No one did. "Alright then, let's make like a stripper and take off!" Bungston ran down to where the golden coil had buried itself, then stood for a moment. "WRAP ME SLAP ME SAP MUSKEEGEE PAST THE HEAD STUCK IN THE DOOR AND A ONE AND A TWO HAVE GOTTEN ROTTEN TO THE CORE!" The little control device materialized in his hand. "Not too shabby, eh? First try, too." A fiddle with the statue brought the golden coil humming up from its hiding place, and Robigus and Napoleon piled in. Then the storm door of the cabana shattered to plexiglas flinders under the assault of a huge spiked snout. Infuriated by the coil's weird humming, the denizen of the deep surged forth into the sunlight, its transclucent goo smoking and steaming. The snout which had punched apart the door heaved and split, growing huger and revealing impossible teeth. Flabby polyps boiled up and resolved into slit-pupilled eyeballs. Two mammoth frog legs sprouted from the sides, slapping onto the green circle, then baring claws and digging into the bricks for greater purchase. The shoggoth had changed from a giant noodle into a thing of legs and maw in a moment, and now it launched itself at the wrapped carriage.
"MOVEMOVEMOVEMOVEMOVE!", Napoleon bellowed. Bungston cranked on the delicate little statue, and the wrapped carriage jerked airborne, glinting beautifully in the afternoon sun.
"Once we're underwater I think we're safe", muttered Bungston as he fingered the buttons. The shoggoth passed underneath them, but it immediately realized its mistake and ejaculated a tentacle upwards even before the main body landed. The tentacle moved with lightning speed, developing spines and clacking claws in transit. Robigus took careful aim and propelled his hockey stick down through the open lower end of the humming transport. Eyeless, the spine-bristling tentacle seized the stick in the belief it had caught the coil and pulled fiercely with much more force than necessary. Tentacle and stick slapped back into the body.
"Alright dude! Sweet move!" Napoleon pounded Robigus on the shoulder in congratulations. The coil paused, then made a hairpin turn and sped into the ocean, leaving its attacker to steam in the surf. Bungston fiddled with the control statue, trying to coax as much speed as possible out of the wrapped carriage.
The wily wizard had providently packed his hand held carbon arc light, and Robigus played the powerful beam in the water around them, looking for any sign of pursuing shoggoth. No shoggoth was immediately evident, although Napoleon repeatedly voiced a suspicion that the shoggoth might be invisible in water, along the lines of a jellyfish, and that it might be secretly skulking along next to them. The arc light and the increased visibility it provided also made for a much more interesting trip. The wrapped carriage quickly passed over the submerged ruins just offshore, and once in deeper water the adventurous trio watched multicolored schools of fish streak through the light beam away from the glowing coil.
The main reason that Bungston had brought along the arc-light was to see exactly what the transporters they passed through looked like, and where they were. Then after the Avalonians repossessed their carriage he would still be able to use the transporters, maybe with a mini-sub. Most likely the transporters were on the sea floor, figured the wizard, since the wrapped carriage was travelling at a slight downward angle. Robigus frowned and looked carefully from between the glowing coils at the water outside. "I believe that there is a large beast tracking us, a serpent of some type."
Napoleon shook Bungston's shoulder vigorously. "Look, look! It's that big eel that chased me before!" The sinuous sea monster was back, pacing the wrapped carriage and glaring hungrily in at the three occupants. It swam with its mouth open, exposing several rows of long dagger teeth.
Bungston whistled in appreciation and glared hungrily back. "She's a hefty one, that's for sure. It can probably hear this coil humming miles away." He took the arc light from Robigus and directed the beam in the creature's eye to annoy it.
Robigus was unfazed. "We are safe in the carriage," he said unconcernedly.
Suddenly the creature doubled up, a billow of blood jetting from between its jaws. It seemed to fall apart even as it swam. The passengers only got a quick glimpse of the monster's dissolution before the speeding carriage left it behind. "Minced Monkey Meat! Did you guys see that?", exclaimed Bungston.
Robigus had. "Perhaps it was sick?", he offered uncertainly.
Bungston shook his head, swinging the beam of the arc-light around through the dark and empty water outside. "Yeah, and it sneezed itself into hamburger. Something ripped into that thing, and I bet I know what it was."
Napoleon, however, was suddenly very much against sight-seeing, and loudly stated that he was not curious at all why the sea monster had spontaneously shredded. The mutant felt strongly that Bungston should put out the light and they should finish their ride in peace. He tried to maneuver his furred bulk in front of the light, but Bungston was too quick, and Napoleon succeeded only in bonking his head against Robigus' bag of armor.
Bungston had been playing the beam around in the black water on either side of the humming coil, but there was nothing to be seen. Then he directed the beam downwards and looked through the floor. The creature looked like a fifteen-foot throwing knife with a propeller mounted on the back, and it was closing fast. As it drew near, the knife blade split in three and sharp, thick teeth emerged from the flesh, forming a weird tripartite mouth. Napoleon groaned in horror. "It's the shoggoth! It's still after us!"
Robigus' fingers twitched nervously over the grip of his sword. "I am sure the force field about the coil will hold." He did not sound sure.
With a tremendous impact the swimming shoggoth rammed the moving coil from behind and below. The rear of the carriage swung up and the whole machine began to head for the bottom. Bungston had been rummaging in his pack for something but had to grab the control statue fast to compensate for the change in direction. The shoggoth moved off into the dark water and Bungston tried frantically to pin it again with the light. A few seconds passed, then the amoeboid bulk appeared out of the gloom directly in front of the moving coil. The wrapped carriage rammed a huge notched spine head on.
"Back up! Reverse!" Napoleon bellowed, grabbed the lean wizard and shook him around in a panic.
Bungston struggled free from his mutant then grappled with the control, his eyes darting back and forth between the little statue and the horrible beast at the front of the wrapped carriage. "No good! It only goes forward."
"Reverse! Turn around! Let's go home!" Napoleon howled in his master's ear.
Bungston winced and jammed the control device into the fear-crazed mutant's paws. "You give it a try, then." The wizard turned back to his back and dug frantically through the assemblage of winter gear, tradable goods and petrified fruit he had thought would be helpful on the quest.
Flashing sparks and electrical discharges lit up the interior as the spine drove inexorably into the fields protecting the open end of the coil. Bungston felt a twinge of panic; when he had summoned up the cigar tube it had gone through the open end of the coil with no trouble. If the shoggoth could get a piece of itself in, it could get all of itself in, and then they were goners. On the far end of the spine, the main bulk of the shoggoth had flattened out to cause more water resistance, causing the coil's own momentum to push it onto the evil spine; the thing looked like a big thumbtack. Bulbous eyes and fanged mouths sprouted and were resorbed on the main body, and the spine, moving slower and slower, grew ever nearer to the sweating threesome.
Napoleon's efforts at steering the coil had been inspired but unproductive, and the shaggy mutant was hysterical with fear. "Bung! Bung! Kill it! Make it go away!", he yowled. Bungston grabbed a paisley muffler from his pack and shoved it in the mutant's mouth to shut him up, then resumed his rummaging with vigor. He pulled out a mint condition Colt.45 Peacemaker and glared at it, then stuffed it back in.
Robigus was the one closest to the spine, and the warrior was also manning the arc light. He had checked where the force field began on his side and now watched the progress of the black, sparking spine intently. "It is almost to us, Bungston."
"Ah... stall! I've got something in here, I think... Fudge! Where is it?" The wizard macerated his nutmeg furiously as he dug through his pack.
Robigus reached into his bag of armor and withdrew the left shoulder plate, and as the spine penetrated the last inch of field, he held the metal up in its path. There was a pause, then a harsh whine, and the armor grew hot. The shoggoth was drilling through. Robigus put the other shoulder piece in the way, then a greave from his leg, then the other greave. Tendrils of caustic smoke trailed into the coil interior, produced either by the metal or maybe the shoggoth itself. "Bungston! I can do no more!"
Bungston had been cursing more and more vehemently. "It's not here! This thing will have to do." The wizard grabbed an electric pencil sharpener and held the orfice in front of the glowing red dot on Robigus' shin guard.
The warrior stared at the pencil sharpener in disbelief. "It has bored through my armor, it will have no trouble with that!"
"Yep. So when it comes through, you just give it the biggest mildew treatment ever, OK?"
There was no time for Robigus to reply. The spine, bladed into a drill bit, emerged from the punctured greave and paused for a split second. Robigus was ready - he boldly extended a finger and touched the shoggoth. There was a suffocating surge of musty air, and the spine turned a mousy shade of gray. No sooner had Robigus withdrawn his finger than Bungston crammed the pencil sharpener in place, putting his whole weight behind it. There was a brief grinding noise, and then what was left of the spine snapped back into the main body, leaving Robigus' violated pieces of armor to clatter down in a smoking heap. The wizard thumped Robigus on the shoulder. "That's what I like to see! Heh! We showed that shoggoth!"
Robigus nodded grimly. "One would think that such a gelatinous creature would be more vulnerable to mildew, but I found it surprisingly resistant."
"Didn't look too resistant to me," commented Bungston. He looked suspiciously at the shaved shoggoth bits in the pencil sharpener, and added a healthy dose of ground nutmeg to denature them, nutmeg being the antithesis of nasty things. He replaced the pencil sharpener in the pack, then glared at the pack in annoyance. "I could have sworn that I kept that tactical nuke pistol in this pack, ready to go. That would have made short work of that big lugey. You know the one I mean, Nap?"
Napoleon picked up one of Robigus' shoulder pieces, toying with it absently. "Huwugm. Where's the shoggoth now?"
Bungston shone the arc-light around. "Maybe it gave up." They were almost to the ocean bottom, which was flat and barren except for the occasional worm mound. A hundred yards ahead there was a row of stone arches extending off into the gloom in either direction. Each arch was thirty feet high, and coupled with a twin. It looked like the McDonald's undersea graveyard. Bungston was glad the coil knew which one to choose; there were ten pairs of arches within range of his light, and probably a lot more, any of which could lead to Rome. The wizard had seen something like this in the Spnakotic fragments during the brief time he had been in possession of them - of each pair of arches one arch was the exit and the other the entry. "Ok guys, here are the transporters. Home free."
The arches were made of some sort of metal, decorated with symbols or maybe just curlicues. Robigus was intently watching the top of the one they were approaching. "Bungston, shine your light at the top of the one before us."
Bungston did so. "Buttcheese souffle! It's back!" Giant birdlike feet gripped the arch, supporting the cratered monstrosity perched at its peak. It was waiting. Just before the coil passed under it, the shoggoth turned into a gargantuan pincer, the crux of which was still anchored at the top of the arch. One half of the pincer swung down behind the coil, and the other came in from the front. The loathsome beast intended to catch its prey in a vise. Napoleon wailed and squirmed, overwhelmed with horror of the predatory protoplasm. Bungston grabbed the mutant's runny nose and pointed at the oncoming pincer with the control statue. "You should watch this - I think our shoggy bud is in for a surprise."
Just when it seemed that the coil would run headlong into the half of the pincer coming in from the front, the threatening piece disappeared. The disembodied other half of the pincer was, however, still in pursuit. Having passed through the arch in the correct direction, it had been transported through right after the wrapped carriage. The lone half stopped and hung in the water for a moment. Bungston fixed it in the light. "See guys, these gate things only work one way. One gate from and one gate to. So this thing is stuck with us unless the shog comes all the way through. Which it might." Bungston handed the light to Robigus and concentrated on steering the coil. He made a pass at the half pincer, still hovering in the water just past the arch. "Nyah nyah nyah nyah nyah! Come on pudding boy! I got a Playdoh factory I want you to meet!"
"Yeah, yer mama was the Shmoo!", bellowed Napoleon enthusiastically.
The taunts apparently enraged the half-pincer, although it had no obvious ears. It split and formed a new, serrated minipincer, strangely anchored in the empty space under the arch. Then it raced after the coil, its supporting stem growing longer behind it. Bungston cranked the little statue around and the wrapped carriage ducked through the twin of the arch they had just come through, the pincer in hot pursuit.
Once through, Bungston pointed back to the first arch they had entered. Napoleon aimed the light there, and sure enough, the shoggoth was still perched on top, a long tentacle extending down and into the transporter, where it abruptly terminated. The pincer that had been chasing them extended from the opening of the adjacent arch. Bungston steered the coil up for a pass at the main body of the shoggoth. Following the sound of the humming coil, the pincer in pursuit slammed into the main body, where it merged back into the blob. The shoggoth was now a big semicircle, extending from the front of one arch to the front of the other.
"That shoggoth is in a bad way," commented Bungston. "I'm not sure how it's going to get back together."
"Just what it deserves for being all shifty and gooey," growled Napoleon in satisfaction. "It should pick a shape and stick to it, like the rest of us,"
"But maybe it's got some fun left in it." Bungston took the coil in for another pass at the shoggoth, yelling taunts and insults. Unable to resist, the semicircular shoggoth sprouted a pack of Venus Flytraps, which went snapping after the carriage on lengthening stalks. Bungston took the carriage to the next pair of arches down and performed the same maneuver, powering through one and then right back through the other. Just like the pincer had, the Venus Flytraps followed. Bungston did this a few more times with different arches on down the line, then pulled back to survey his handiwork.
The shoggoth was stretched in a series of pencil-thin semi-circles between adjacent arches, each semicircle connected to the next one down by a tenuous filament. It was still shifting around somewhat, but it was unable to do much more than tug at the arches which held it. There was not enough protoplasm in any one place to form any structures. Bungston slapped his knee. "WELL TWEEZE MY CHEESE AND HOSE IT DOWN I'VE FOUND A POUND OF GREAT REKNOWN! D!" There was a flurry of bubbles, and when they cleared the immobilized shoggoth filament was decked out in pretty party bows of every color of the rainbow. "More aesthetic," explained Bungston.
NEXT CHAPTER (8)
Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10. Chapter 11. Chapter 12. Chapter 13. Chapter 14. Chapter 15. Chapter 16. Chapter 17. Chapter 18. Chapter 19. Chapter 20. Epilogue.