Christmas 2017 Part II
AKA Too Late for Christmas
Britt, Kit and Bill are lounging on a cushioned, long stool while seated at a table chock-full of booze and food. Kit raises a tankard;
Kit: "Here's to the defeat of Sandy Claws and to a jolly Christmas past!"
Bill raises his own tankard but Britt stares dumbly at his own. Bill nudges Britt.
Bill: "Dude. We're meant to be toasting."
Britt: "What happened?"
Kit, who is seated opposite the other two, leans forward suspiciously;
Kit: "How much did he have already?"
Bill: "That's his bloody first!"
Britt: "No, seriously! What happened to the Story? We were about to be eaten by that monster thing and now we're in this bawdy house...?"
Kit: "You've lost your memory?"
Bill: "You don't remember we managed to defeat the monster and escape? Kit wrote a whole play about Faustus and had it performed just in time for Christmas. You played in it!"
Kit: "Christmas number one!"
Britt: "I... I do remember yeah... but it's like... it didn't really happen. We just remember it happened..."
Kit: "If he's not drunk, he's on drugs."
Kit reaches over the table and plants a firm, angry finger on the wood in front of Britt.
Kit: "Where's mine!?"
Britt: "Look, I'm pretty new to this whole Story stuff. I just feel like we missed a lot of stuff."
Kit: "Time flies when you're having fun, eh?"
Britt: "Real time passed but not narrative time... I think."
Bill: "Okay, okay. Even I'm struggling to keep up with this one and I, allegedly, make holes in the story. Why don't we, you know, enjoy the beer, eh?"
Britt, suddenly urged with mischievousness, gabbed his beer and tossed the swill straight at Kit. In response both Kit and Bill threw their own beer on Britt's head.
Britt: "Damn. I feel there should have been a nuk-nuk-nuk said about now."
Kit: "Nook-nook-nook?"
Britt: "No no, it's pronounced more like ny--"
They hear the door to the bawdy house slam open. The house is commonly rented out to travellers to London, though it has something of a reputation for shady dealers - especially those of the spy variety. While in the 'dining room', the three men, covered in beer, turn to look down the hall to the open door.
In walk three men, led by Ingram Frizer.
Britt: "Oh right. I don't remember what we actually did about Faustus..."
Kit: "Well--!!"
Britt: "I didn't mean what you wrote in your bloody play."
Kit: "But fiction is so much more interesting than life!"
Bill: "He had a hernia."
Britt: "What?"
Bill: "We found him, chased him and he had a hernia. He was taken to the hospital."
The three intruders, having carefully taken off their hats and scarves, saunter down the hall towards the dining room.
Britt: "And he's still possessed?"
Bill: "I guess so."
Britt: "So this guy showing up here is probably bad news."
Kit: "I reckon so."
Ingram: "Gentlemen! How are my fellow spies this evening?"
Bill: "Sure, just shout that at the top of your lungs why don't you?"
Ingram: "We have no secrets here, do we?"
Ingram forces his way in between Britt and Bill while his two cohorts, also spies, sit silently on either side of Kit. They start to tuck into the feast laid out before them.
Ingram: "I thought you might like to know that the honourable Doctor Faustus has made a full recovery. Thankfully for you three he won't be pressing charges."
Ingram salutes with a mug of ale.
Bill: "Pressing charges!? He's possessed by a demon he can't--"
Ingram: "Proof?"
He grins politely at Shakespeare who promptly falls into a glowering silence.
Ingram: "Now look, my friends, we're all on the same side, aren't we?"
Kit: "Probably depends on what side you're on, Frizer."
Ingram: "The side of England, of course! Come now, Marlowe! We've worked together long enough to know at least that much, haven't we?"
Ingram plants a friendly, but firm, hand on Britt's shoulder as he chomps on a chicken leg.
Ingram: "You know, working together we six could achieve much for our country! Think on that! We'd be like a new knights of the round table, wouldn't we? Acting honourably, heroically and using our respective powers for the greater good!"
Bill: "Powers?"
Ingram: "You think I didn't know?"
Bill: "About us? Maybe. But you?"
Ingram drums his fingers on the table with a smirk.
Ingram: "Mephistopheles is a most generous benefactor."
Thick, black smoke puffs out from the pores of his fingertips as they connected with the wood. Britt doesn't know what that blackness is, but it certainly isn't natural nor is it even magical. He does know it is evil.
Kit: "Sold your soul, eh?"
Ingram: "And since when did our resident atheist believe in souls?"
Kit: "Alright, fine. Not a soul. Just your humanity."
Ingram: "All for the greater good, my old friend."
Kit: "That greater good being yourself."
Ingram feigns hurt.
Ingram: "You wound me. What a cruel thing to say."
Kit: "We will stop you, Frizer."
Ingram: "You, a bard and..."
He looks at Britt.
Ingram: "What do you even do?"
Britt: "Just call me the Boss."
Bill: "It's Britt the Boss now? Are you kidding me?"
Britt: "Awesome, right?"
Ingram: "I think it's great."
Britt: "I know right!?"
He holds his hand up to Ingram for a high five but spots the sour looks from Bill and Kit.
Britt: "Oh right. Bad guy."
Ingram: "Come now, gentlemen. Bad guy?"
Bill: "I would say anyone in league with a demon is a bad guy, yes."
Ingram: "That's what Christian dogma will do to you, Mr Shakespeare. Make you narrow-minded and ignorant to the truth. There is no good or bad."
Kit: "I agree with you."
Ingram: "Ha! I knew you would!"
Kit: "But good and bad doesn't have to be dictated by the Bible, or any other religion. It's what society collectively acknowledges as good or bad. And you are, unquestionably, a traitor and a villain. A menace to society."
Ingram: "Then it seems we have reached an impasse. You know too much about the good doctor and are resolute to scupper our plans."
Kit: "No matter what you do, there will be a reckoning."
Bill: "The bill? Yes, I'm pretty sure there will be one later, and it will be huge."
Ingram: "I am pretty sure he was speaking of a very different kind of reckoning, Mr Shakespeare. Alas, Marlowe, you are correct. Except you are mistaken in thinking it is I who shall fall prey to this reckoning you espouse."
His fingers, which were still on the table, flip over and his palm spreads. A blade of black strikes from the pores of his hand and slams into the skull of Kit. The two cohorts hold Kit steady while Britt and Bill both fall from their seats in horror.
Ingram lowers his hand and delicately takes a piece of bread from one of the bowls to munch on.
Bill: "K-Kit!"
The two men release Kit and his head slams into the table, blood trickling over the wood.
Ingram: "Come now! You've made a mess!"
Britt scrambles across the room.
Britt: "Bill! Get us out of here!"
Ingram seems to remember that they're here;
Ingram: "Leaving so soon?"
A dark shroud bursts from Ingram like a black aura that spreads as it engulfs the room. Bill finally snaps into action and opens a hole through which both of them jump. The hole closes quickly behind them, granting Britt a last look at the serene smile of Ingram Frizer surrounded by the dark mist.
AKA Too Late for Christmas
Britt, Kit and Bill are lounging on a cushioned, long stool while seated at a table chock-full of booze and food. Kit raises a tankard;
Kit: "Here's to the defeat of Sandy Claws and to a jolly Christmas past!"
Bill raises his own tankard but Britt stares dumbly at his own. Bill nudges Britt.
Bill: "Dude. We're meant to be toasting."
Britt: "What happened?"
Kit, who is seated opposite the other two, leans forward suspiciously;
Kit: "How much did he have already?"
Bill: "That's his bloody first!"
Britt: "No, seriously! What happened to the Story? We were about to be eaten by that monster thing and now we're in this bawdy house...?"
Kit: "You've lost your memory?"
Bill: "You don't remember we managed to defeat the monster and escape? Kit wrote a whole play about Faustus and had it performed just in time for Christmas. You played in it!"
Kit: "Christmas number one!"
Britt: "I... I do remember yeah... but it's like... it didn't really happen. We just remember it happened..."
Kit: "If he's not drunk, he's on drugs."
Kit reaches over the table and plants a firm, angry finger on the wood in front of Britt.
Kit: "Where's mine!?"
Britt: "Look, I'm pretty new to this whole Story stuff. I just feel like we missed a lot of stuff."
Kit: "Time flies when you're having fun, eh?"
Britt: "Real time passed but not narrative time... I think."
Bill: "Okay, okay. Even I'm struggling to keep up with this one and I, allegedly, make holes in the story. Why don't we, you know, enjoy the beer, eh?"
Britt, suddenly urged with mischievousness, gabbed his beer and tossed the swill straight at Kit. In response both Kit and Bill threw their own beer on Britt's head.
Britt: "Damn. I feel there should have been a nuk-nuk-nuk said about now."
Kit: "Nook-nook-nook?"
Britt: "No no, it's pronounced more like ny--"
They hear the door to the bawdy house slam open. The house is commonly rented out to travellers to London, though it has something of a reputation for shady dealers - especially those of the spy variety. While in the 'dining room', the three men, covered in beer, turn to look down the hall to the open door.
In walk three men, led by Ingram Frizer.
Britt: "Oh right. I don't remember what we actually did about Faustus..."
Kit: "Well--!!"
Britt: "I didn't mean what you wrote in your bloody play."
Kit: "But fiction is so much more interesting than life!"
Bill: "He had a hernia."
Britt: "What?"
Bill: "We found him, chased him and he had a hernia. He was taken to the hospital."
The three intruders, having carefully taken off their hats and scarves, saunter down the hall towards the dining room.
Britt: "And he's still possessed?"
Bill: "I guess so."
Britt: "So this guy showing up here is probably bad news."
Kit: "I reckon so."
Ingram: "Gentlemen! How are my fellow spies this evening?"
Bill: "Sure, just shout that at the top of your lungs why don't you?"
Ingram: "We have no secrets here, do we?"
Ingram forces his way in between Britt and Bill while his two cohorts, also spies, sit silently on either side of Kit. They start to tuck into the feast laid out before them.
Ingram: "I thought you might like to know that the honourable Doctor Faustus has made a full recovery. Thankfully for you three he won't be pressing charges."
Ingram salutes with a mug of ale.
Bill: "Pressing charges!? He's possessed by a demon he can't--"
Ingram: "Proof?"
He grins politely at Shakespeare who promptly falls into a glowering silence.
Ingram: "Now look, my friends, we're all on the same side, aren't we?"
Kit: "Probably depends on what side you're on, Frizer."
Ingram: "The side of England, of course! Come now, Marlowe! We've worked together long enough to know at least that much, haven't we?"
Ingram plants a friendly, but firm, hand on Britt's shoulder as he chomps on a chicken leg.
Ingram: "You know, working together we six could achieve much for our country! Think on that! We'd be like a new knights of the round table, wouldn't we? Acting honourably, heroically and using our respective powers for the greater good!"
Bill: "Powers?"
Ingram: "You think I didn't know?"
Bill: "About us? Maybe. But you?"
Ingram drums his fingers on the table with a smirk.
Ingram: "Mephistopheles is a most generous benefactor."
Thick, black smoke puffs out from the pores of his fingertips as they connected with the wood. Britt doesn't know what that blackness is, but it certainly isn't natural nor is it even magical. He does know it is evil.
Kit: "Sold your soul, eh?"
Ingram: "And since when did our resident atheist believe in souls?"
Kit: "Alright, fine. Not a soul. Just your humanity."
Ingram: "All for the greater good, my old friend."
Kit: "That greater good being yourself."
Ingram feigns hurt.
Ingram: "You wound me. What a cruel thing to say."
Kit: "We will stop you, Frizer."
Ingram: "You, a bard and..."
He looks at Britt.
Ingram: "What do you even do?"
Britt: "Just call me the Boss."
Bill: "It's Britt the Boss now? Are you kidding me?"
Britt: "Awesome, right?"
Ingram: "I think it's great."
Britt: "I know right!?"
He holds his hand up to Ingram for a high five but spots the sour looks from Bill and Kit.
Britt: "Oh right. Bad guy."
Ingram: "Come now, gentlemen. Bad guy?"
Bill: "I would say anyone in league with a demon is a bad guy, yes."
Ingram: "That's what Christian dogma will do to you, Mr Shakespeare. Make you narrow-minded and ignorant to the truth. There is no good or bad."
Kit: "I agree with you."
Ingram: "Ha! I knew you would!"
Kit: "But good and bad doesn't have to be dictated by the Bible, or any other religion. It's what society collectively acknowledges as good or bad. And you are, unquestionably, a traitor and a villain. A menace to society."
Ingram: "Then it seems we have reached an impasse. You know too much about the good doctor and are resolute to scupper our plans."
Kit: "No matter what you do, there will be a reckoning."
Bill: "The bill? Yes, I'm pretty sure there will be one later, and it will be huge."
Ingram: "I am pretty sure he was speaking of a very different kind of reckoning, Mr Shakespeare. Alas, Marlowe, you are correct. Except you are mistaken in thinking it is I who shall fall prey to this reckoning you espouse."
His fingers, which were still on the table, flip over and his palm spreads. A blade of black strikes from the pores of his hand and slams into the skull of Kit. The two cohorts hold Kit steady while Britt and Bill both fall from their seats in horror.
Ingram lowers his hand and delicately takes a piece of bread from one of the bowls to munch on.
Bill: "K-Kit!"
The two men release Kit and his head slams into the table, blood trickling over the wood.
Ingram: "Come now! You've made a mess!"
Britt scrambles across the room.
Britt: "Bill! Get us out of here!"
Ingram seems to remember that they're here;
Ingram: "Leaving so soon?"
A dark shroud bursts from Ingram like a black aura that spreads as it engulfs the room. Bill finally snaps into action and opens a hole through which both of them jump. The hole closes quickly behind them, granting Britt a last look at the serene smile of Ingram Frizer surrounded by the dark mist.