Post by nauticusvergil on Apr 17, 2006 19:18:37 GMT -5
Alright, next chapter, Ran gets a little surprise, and Randy Newman's "Monster's Inc." makes a cameo appearance. We also see a brief bit of Sully. Enjoy.
Two Minutes of Oblivion
A lively Randy Newman beat blared from the bar band in the far corner of the room. Keith couldn’t identify the name of the song, but knew it was a Big Band tune. From a time right before Jazz was introduced, Big Band was THE pre-eminent style of music and was considered the forbear of modern Jazz. Keith Payne, Escargoon, and Randall Boggs were all enjoying some quality downtime before their ship had to set sail again and take up blockade at Carrolton. After the army boys had moved into and occupied the town of Port Royal, the three had rented a car and had a wild (and quite dangerous) ride a few miles inland. Coming close to enemy picket lines several times, they had escaped from encounters that were too close for comfort. Deciding to take it easy instead, they had driven into Port Royal and headed to the local bar, intending to take it easy. Most of the townspeople fixed them (along with every other State soldier) with cold glares, at least those that had stayed. Most of the citizens fled along with the Alliance defenders once the battle had ended. Now the local bar had been appropriated and used by the staff of both army and navy. Everyone inside was laughing and having a good time; almost everyone was speaking in very loud tones. A TV tuned to a news station was playing above the bar. Randall however paid it no mind, true he was sitting close to it, but he was enjoying himself too much to notice the TV, or the man sitting at a nearby booth who had been watching them ever since they entered the bar.
Pharis Gleasry, agent of the Ormus League, sat eating his Key Lime Pie, glancing idly at the three newcomers as they conversed in rather loud tones over at the bar. Small and rather meek looking, with a pale, flat face that almost looked cadaverous and a mouth that seemed to be frozen in a smirk, his most prominent features were the deep black wells that were his eyes. His looks gave away nothing of the hardened mentality of a killer. Oh yes, to Pharis Gleasry, agent of the Ormus League, killing came just as naturally as swatting a fly. He could pick up quite easily what the three were saying, their loud voices carried over to his table in tones that were quite easy to comprehend. The one on the left, the human, was laughing and talking about nearly running over an Alliance picket in their car. The one on the right, a purplish lizard type thing with 8 legs/arms was also laughing and responding to what was being said, as was the one in the middle, a snail toon. Gleasry recognized none of them, but he was sure the lizard thing on the right looked familiar. Gleasry’s beady eyes swept across the room two booths down.
A man known only as Crofton sat there. Gleasry stared right at him, but Crofton seemed to be intently focusing on something else. Gleasry’s eyes rolled in their sockets and came to rest on what it was Crofton was staring at. Much to Gleasry’s curiosity, he was staring at the three naval newcomers. A bit puzzled by this, Gleasry could only wonder as to what Crofton found so interesting in those three.
It had taken Gleasry 2 long months to track down Crofton, and now, at long last, his prey was right in front of him. Crofton had been with a State Special Forces outfit before resigning and joining the Marbas Foundation. Crofton had been a wily prey, knowing he was being pursued, he had taken extra steps to cover his tracks, but no one ever escaped Gleasly in the end. He would terminate Crofton, as he did with his countless other targets.
As he was thinking this, Crofton got up, and, stealing one last glance at the three at the bar, strode out of the place. No matter, there was no way Crofton could escape, the only way off the island was the ferry, and that didn’t arrive for another 4 hours, he had plenty of time to track him down and deal with him. Besides, giving them a head start always made it more interesting, thought Gleasry to himself as he went back to his Key Lime Pie.
“Hey guys, check this out!” said Keith, a little too loudly. He was pointing at the TV. A news bulletin was playing about the battle of Port Royal.
“4 days ago, a powerful State fleet under the overall command of Commodore Ickus of the South Atlantic Blockading Squadron, attacked and overcame two small Alliance defense fortresses protecting the small harbor of Port Roya.” The images showed the battle fleet circling and blasting the forts. When a close up of the Wabash was done, Keith, Escargoon, and Randall cheered heartily, getting a lot of looks from the bar’s customers.
“Did you see us? Did you see us? Weren’t we great!” Escargoon asked.
“Heck yeah, they really got the ship’s good side” joked Randall.
“Sure did, but hey, another special bulletin, wonder what this one’s about” Keith said, eyeing the screen.
“And that was Mark Coppola with the special report on the battle of Port Royal. We now will do a quite unique report, one that has never been done in the history of humanity. For the first time, we’ll take you into the Monster World, and more specifically, to the major power company that you’re all familiar with, Monsters Incorporated.” As the newscaster spoke, a view of the gigantic Monsters Inc. factory was shown. The thing was enormous, a gargantuan main building rose in the forefront, a massive facade with large glass windows on the front. Rows and rows of refineries dotted the landscape behind it, forming a veritable plethora of technology. Randall began to sense a nervousness in him now, something he had not felt in a long time.
Keith glanced over at Randall, noticing his hands were visibly shaking, and a look of extreme angst crossed his face. His mouth was open, teeth gritted. “Randall” said Keith hesitantly. As he said this, Pharis Gleasry, agent of the Ormus League, brushed by behind them, leaving the bar for good.
The TV cut to a scene of a titanic hall lined with doors. Doors that didn’t lead anywhere, doors that looked like they had been ripped off their hinges and frames and were now just sitting in the middle of the hall. A furry, blue, horned monster was in the shot now, wearing an official necktie.
“Yes viewers, this is an actual feed, for the first time in our history, the Monster Parliament has contacted and made overtures to our own government, inviting us into their world for a first hand look at their mighty power company and also the monster who completely reformed the policy of not only the factory, but the Parliament as well. Standing before you is Mr. James P. Sullivan, CEO of Monsters Inc. and newly elected member to the company’s Board of Directors.” Sullivan, the blue monster, did a little wave. “Tell us Mr. Sullivan, why the hospitality? This is the first real time in both our histories that actual humans have been permitted into your fine city of Monstropolis.”
“Oh well,” Sullivan replied with a deep, yet friendly voice, which sounded not unlike John Goodman, Keith decided. “Our government wants to foster good relations with your world. We have an excellent source of electricity here, and our government feels that it’s about to time to share our wonderful benefits and surplus energy with a neighbor that we haven’t really been on the best of terms with yet. Aloofness on both sides has caused us to become estranged with each other, but I think that we could benefit greatly from each other.”
“But what’s the catch? I mean you giving us a chance to share in your energy output? What’s in it for you?” asked the reporter.
“Well, now we don’t really want anything from you guys at the moment. We’re just interested in opening up relations between our two worlds. Once we get off to a good start, maybe then we could ask for trade agreements and such, but right now, our main thing is just sharing our electricity with you. I know that gasoline and oil is quite expensive on your side, but with our electricity output powering not only Monstropolis, but various areas of your nation as well, we could alleviate the strain on your gas and oil reserves and provide you with good clean energy. Plus, you’re currently engaged in a war, and we all know, there’s nothing like a war to put a real crunch on your energy reserves.” Sullivan explained.
“Well, that’s very true, and yes, it would be a great help to us. I also hope that this will perhaps allow free passage between our worlds as well. And now Mr. Sullivan, why don’t you tell us a little about the history of Monsters Inc.” pressed the reporter.
“Well, as you may or may not know, this company was founded by Henry J. Waternoose I, a monster of incredible business savvy and…” SLAM! Randall slammed his fists on the bar top, a look of extreme anger on his face. He promptly got up and began stomping towards the door. “Randall! Wait! What’s wrong?” Keith called out to him. “Hey, stop!”
Randall whirled around, “Why should I? Do you know what this means? If relations are opened between the two worlds, the Parliament can petition your government to repatriate me!!” he shouted, his anger rising. “There’s no way I’m going back! No way!!” as he yelled these last lines a massive explosion blew in the front of the bar, shattering all the windows and knocking Randall flat on his face.
Keith and Escargoon were both knocked on the floor senseless, as was almost everyone else in the bar. Randall, despite being the closest to the explosion, was the first on his feet. Apparently panicking, he took off for the back door, jumping over Keith and Escargoon. As he stepped over the threshold, a severe blow knocked him on the back of his head, causing him to collapse onto his knees.
“Well, well,” Crofton spoke, standing over him and leveling a relatively nasty 12 gauge Magnum at him. “So you didn’t get into your car after all. Well, now I can correct that little miscalculation” he spoke with such finality, such a sinister tone. Randall raised he head, blood oozing from a nasty welt on the back of his head. His eyes couldn’t focus properly, but he was acutely aware of the danger he was in. “Monster trash, it’s time to say bye” he sneered. As Crofton was about to pull the trigger, a surprised look suddenly crossed his face, and he reached up and slapped the back of his neck. Before Randall realized what was going on, Crofton collapsed in front of him, face first, a dart sticking out the back of his neck. Gazing curiously at it, he reached one of his hands over and plucked out the small weapon. He let it fall to the ground as Keith and Escargoon came charging through the back door.
"What....what happened?" stammered Keith. Randall got to his feet.
"I....I don't know. This guy....he tried to kill me. But..."
"Tried to kill you?" asked Escargoon.
"Well yes, but....someone killed him." Randall was slowly taking in all that happened. Keith scanned around but there was no one in sight.
"Whoever did it has made a clean getaway I'm afraid."
"I'm alright now, he hit me on the back of the head with his shotgun, stunned me for a bit" Randall explained, wondering just what the heck was going on. Taking one last look around, he rubbed his head and headed back inside the now ruined bar.
Over the rise of a nearby hill, walking away from them, Pharis Gleasry, agent of the Ormus League mused to himself. Well, that went better than expected. That car bomb was an unpleasant surprise but nothing really surprised him anymore. The sniper pistol had worked unbelievably well. He had silenced Crofton before he could give anything of value away. As he strode on however, his smirk slowly disappeared, and his brow furrowed. What the hell had Crofton been doing? Trying to knock off that lizard guy it was clear but why? He jogged his memory, Randall, he had heard his human friend call him. Randall…..Randall…….Boggs! That’s who it was! Randall Boggs! The guy from Monstropolis’s Most Wanted. But what the hell was he being targeted by Crofton for? Gleasry, deeply intrigued by this, decided he would figure it out later. There would be plenty of time to deal with them if need be in the future. For now, his mission was accomplished and his prey was dead. The smirk returned and on he walked, feeling completely satisfied with the results.
Two Minutes of Oblivion
A lively Randy Newman beat blared from the bar band in the far corner of the room. Keith couldn’t identify the name of the song, but knew it was a Big Band tune. From a time right before Jazz was introduced, Big Band was THE pre-eminent style of music and was considered the forbear of modern Jazz. Keith Payne, Escargoon, and Randall Boggs were all enjoying some quality downtime before their ship had to set sail again and take up blockade at Carrolton. After the army boys had moved into and occupied the town of Port Royal, the three had rented a car and had a wild (and quite dangerous) ride a few miles inland. Coming close to enemy picket lines several times, they had escaped from encounters that were too close for comfort. Deciding to take it easy instead, they had driven into Port Royal and headed to the local bar, intending to take it easy. Most of the townspeople fixed them (along with every other State soldier) with cold glares, at least those that had stayed. Most of the citizens fled along with the Alliance defenders once the battle had ended. Now the local bar had been appropriated and used by the staff of both army and navy. Everyone inside was laughing and having a good time; almost everyone was speaking in very loud tones. A TV tuned to a news station was playing above the bar. Randall however paid it no mind, true he was sitting close to it, but he was enjoying himself too much to notice the TV, or the man sitting at a nearby booth who had been watching them ever since they entered the bar.
Pharis Gleasry, agent of the Ormus League, sat eating his Key Lime Pie, glancing idly at the three newcomers as they conversed in rather loud tones over at the bar. Small and rather meek looking, with a pale, flat face that almost looked cadaverous and a mouth that seemed to be frozen in a smirk, his most prominent features were the deep black wells that were his eyes. His looks gave away nothing of the hardened mentality of a killer. Oh yes, to Pharis Gleasry, agent of the Ormus League, killing came just as naturally as swatting a fly. He could pick up quite easily what the three were saying, their loud voices carried over to his table in tones that were quite easy to comprehend. The one on the left, the human, was laughing and talking about nearly running over an Alliance picket in their car. The one on the right, a purplish lizard type thing with 8 legs/arms was also laughing and responding to what was being said, as was the one in the middle, a snail toon. Gleasry recognized none of them, but he was sure the lizard thing on the right looked familiar. Gleasry’s beady eyes swept across the room two booths down.
A man known only as Crofton sat there. Gleasry stared right at him, but Crofton seemed to be intently focusing on something else. Gleasry’s eyes rolled in their sockets and came to rest on what it was Crofton was staring at. Much to Gleasry’s curiosity, he was staring at the three naval newcomers. A bit puzzled by this, Gleasry could only wonder as to what Crofton found so interesting in those three.
It had taken Gleasry 2 long months to track down Crofton, and now, at long last, his prey was right in front of him. Crofton had been with a State Special Forces outfit before resigning and joining the Marbas Foundation. Crofton had been a wily prey, knowing he was being pursued, he had taken extra steps to cover his tracks, but no one ever escaped Gleasly in the end. He would terminate Crofton, as he did with his countless other targets.
As he was thinking this, Crofton got up, and, stealing one last glance at the three at the bar, strode out of the place. No matter, there was no way Crofton could escape, the only way off the island was the ferry, and that didn’t arrive for another 4 hours, he had plenty of time to track him down and deal with him. Besides, giving them a head start always made it more interesting, thought Gleasry to himself as he went back to his Key Lime Pie.
“Hey guys, check this out!” said Keith, a little too loudly. He was pointing at the TV. A news bulletin was playing about the battle of Port Royal.
“4 days ago, a powerful State fleet under the overall command of Commodore Ickus of the South Atlantic Blockading Squadron, attacked and overcame two small Alliance defense fortresses protecting the small harbor of Port Roya.” The images showed the battle fleet circling and blasting the forts. When a close up of the Wabash was done, Keith, Escargoon, and Randall cheered heartily, getting a lot of looks from the bar’s customers.
“Did you see us? Did you see us? Weren’t we great!” Escargoon asked.
“Heck yeah, they really got the ship’s good side” joked Randall.
“Sure did, but hey, another special bulletin, wonder what this one’s about” Keith said, eyeing the screen.
“And that was Mark Coppola with the special report on the battle of Port Royal. We now will do a quite unique report, one that has never been done in the history of humanity. For the first time, we’ll take you into the Monster World, and more specifically, to the major power company that you’re all familiar with, Monsters Incorporated.” As the newscaster spoke, a view of the gigantic Monsters Inc. factory was shown. The thing was enormous, a gargantuan main building rose in the forefront, a massive facade with large glass windows on the front. Rows and rows of refineries dotted the landscape behind it, forming a veritable plethora of technology. Randall began to sense a nervousness in him now, something he had not felt in a long time.
Keith glanced over at Randall, noticing his hands were visibly shaking, and a look of extreme angst crossed his face. His mouth was open, teeth gritted. “Randall” said Keith hesitantly. As he said this, Pharis Gleasry, agent of the Ormus League, brushed by behind them, leaving the bar for good.
The TV cut to a scene of a titanic hall lined with doors. Doors that didn’t lead anywhere, doors that looked like they had been ripped off their hinges and frames and were now just sitting in the middle of the hall. A furry, blue, horned monster was in the shot now, wearing an official necktie.
“Yes viewers, this is an actual feed, for the first time in our history, the Monster Parliament has contacted and made overtures to our own government, inviting us into their world for a first hand look at their mighty power company and also the monster who completely reformed the policy of not only the factory, but the Parliament as well. Standing before you is Mr. James P. Sullivan, CEO of Monsters Inc. and newly elected member to the company’s Board of Directors.” Sullivan, the blue monster, did a little wave. “Tell us Mr. Sullivan, why the hospitality? This is the first real time in both our histories that actual humans have been permitted into your fine city of Monstropolis.”
“Oh well,” Sullivan replied with a deep, yet friendly voice, which sounded not unlike John Goodman, Keith decided. “Our government wants to foster good relations with your world. We have an excellent source of electricity here, and our government feels that it’s about to time to share our wonderful benefits and surplus energy with a neighbor that we haven’t really been on the best of terms with yet. Aloofness on both sides has caused us to become estranged with each other, but I think that we could benefit greatly from each other.”
“But what’s the catch? I mean you giving us a chance to share in your energy output? What’s in it for you?” asked the reporter.
“Well, now we don’t really want anything from you guys at the moment. We’re just interested in opening up relations between our two worlds. Once we get off to a good start, maybe then we could ask for trade agreements and such, but right now, our main thing is just sharing our electricity with you. I know that gasoline and oil is quite expensive on your side, but with our electricity output powering not only Monstropolis, but various areas of your nation as well, we could alleviate the strain on your gas and oil reserves and provide you with good clean energy. Plus, you’re currently engaged in a war, and we all know, there’s nothing like a war to put a real crunch on your energy reserves.” Sullivan explained.
“Well, that’s very true, and yes, it would be a great help to us. I also hope that this will perhaps allow free passage between our worlds as well. And now Mr. Sullivan, why don’t you tell us a little about the history of Monsters Inc.” pressed the reporter.
“Well, as you may or may not know, this company was founded by Henry J. Waternoose I, a monster of incredible business savvy and…” SLAM! Randall slammed his fists on the bar top, a look of extreme anger on his face. He promptly got up and began stomping towards the door. “Randall! Wait! What’s wrong?” Keith called out to him. “Hey, stop!”
Randall whirled around, “Why should I? Do you know what this means? If relations are opened between the two worlds, the Parliament can petition your government to repatriate me!!” he shouted, his anger rising. “There’s no way I’m going back! No way!!” as he yelled these last lines a massive explosion blew in the front of the bar, shattering all the windows and knocking Randall flat on his face.
Keith and Escargoon were both knocked on the floor senseless, as was almost everyone else in the bar. Randall, despite being the closest to the explosion, was the first on his feet. Apparently panicking, he took off for the back door, jumping over Keith and Escargoon. As he stepped over the threshold, a severe blow knocked him on the back of his head, causing him to collapse onto his knees.
“Well, well,” Crofton spoke, standing over him and leveling a relatively nasty 12 gauge Magnum at him. “So you didn’t get into your car after all. Well, now I can correct that little miscalculation” he spoke with such finality, such a sinister tone. Randall raised he head, blood oozing from a nasty welt on the back of his head. His eyes couldn’t focus properly, but he was acutely aware of the danger he was in. “Monster trash, it’s time to say bye” he sneered. As Crofton was about to pull the trigger, a surprised look suddenly crossed his face, and he reached up and slapped the back of his neck. Before Randall realized what was going on, Crofton collapsed in front of him, face first, a dart sticking out the back of his neck. Gazing curiously at it, he reached one of his hands over and plucked out the small weapon. He let it fall to the ground as Keith and Escargoon came charging through the back door.
"What....what happened?" stammered Keith. Randall got to his feet.
"I....I don't know. This guy....he tried to kill me. But..."
"Tried to kill you?" asked Escargoon.
"Well yes, but....someone killed him." Randall was slowly taking in all that happened. Keith scanned around but there was no one in sight.
"Whoever did it has made a clean getaway I'm afraid."
"I'm alright now, he hit me on the back of the head with his shotgun, stunned me for a bit" Randall explained, wondering just what the heck was going on. Taking one last look around, he rubbed his head and headed back inside the now ruined bar.
Over the rise of a nearby hill, walking away from them, Pharis Gleasry, agent of the Ormus League mused to himself. Well, that went better than expected. That car bomb was an unpleasant surprise but nothing really surprised him anymore. The sniper pistol had worked unbelievably well. He had silenced Crofton before he could give anything of value away. As he strode on however, his smirk slowly disappeared, and his brow furrowed. What the hell had Crofton been doing? Trying to knock off that lizard guy it was clear but why? He jogged his memory, Randall, he had heard his human friend call him. Randall…..Randall…….Boggs! That’s who it was! Randall Boggs! The guy from Monstropolis’s Most Wanted. But what the hell was he being targeted by Crofton for? Gleasry, deeply intrigued by this, decided he would figure it out later. There would be plenty of time to deal with them if need be in the future. For now, his mission was accomplished and his prey was dead. The smirk returned and on he walked, feeling completely satisfied with the results.