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InGen University p14
By CeratosPit
Previously, on InGen University...
“What do you mean you lost her?” Imhotep asked seemingly nobody.
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Luckily, the subject was being covered by a sPanish corresPondent. “--And then, el presidente de los Estados Unidos said, quote, ‘You expect me to bomb my own country because there’s a bunch of zombies on the loose? Come on, this has got to be the most ridiculous April fool’s joke ever!’ This is Marty Guttierez saying, we’re all doomed. Buenas nachos!”
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“No!” Roland protested at the top of his lungs. He could feel the pteranodon’s claws piercing his skin and what this would mean shortly. “It’s too late for me, but not for you! Stop the mummy!” And then, tossing his paintball gun into the van, he let go of the roof.
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Even when the van crashed into the Earth below and exPloded in a massive fireball which took out all the little pterosaurs, the Dimorphodon still didn’t understand what had happened. Of course, he was too busy blowing up at the time.
Out of the tunnel’s exit hopped the five friends on five pogo sticks which Ian had conveniently packed. It was no van ride, but it would take them west faster then by foot. Nick Van Owen lagged on behind, crying to himself. “First my beach house! Now my van! I’m gonna kill that mummy!”
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Chap 14
The giant known as Sholly had finally driven the double decker bus to the ruins of Nick Van Owen’s beach house. He alone examined the remains of a place where not even an hour ago, drunken, horny college kids partied their asses off. No one was left. There were body parts all over the place, some still very much alive it seemed. None of them were Elle’s. She was still alive and he knew this very well.
Inside the bus, the bored young Cheryl wandered up to the second floor of the furnished vehicle. A well lit tank attached to the wall attracted her attention. Its contents were twelve scorpions. When she was younger, she had really gotten into insects after her father had fed himself to a colony of bullet ants, but that’s another story. She heard Eddie come up the stairs. “Awesome scorpions. What kind are they?”
“I dunno, that Wu kid made ‘em.” Eddie said. “I built him a hydraulic dingle-popper, so he hooked me up with a few of his lab rejects. Thirteen genetically enhanced super-scorpions.”
“There’s twelve.”
“What?”
“There’s twelve.” Cheryl repeated. “One of them is missing.”
“I find that highly unlikely, little girl.” Eddie scoffed. “It’s probably just hiding. No scorpion alive can escape my--”
Eddie was interrupted by a scream eminating from the bathroom. “SWEET GOD!!!” Billy cried as he stepped out of the bathroom. “WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN MY MANHOOD!?”
“Billy, what happened this time?” Cheryl asked.
“I was just taking care of business in the bathroom, when all of a sudden A FRIGGIN’ SCORPION stings me from inside the toilet!”
Cheryl stared a dagger into Eddie who just shrugged and walked away. She then turned her attention to Billy. “Where did it sting you?” The boy would have called that a stupid question, but Cheryl soon realized how redundant it was. “Oh. Right.”
The giant stepped back into the bus. “Wot happened?” he asked.
“I’m going to die!” Billy exclaimed as Cheryl helped him down the stairs. “I’ve been--”
“Hey, shut up!” Rob demanded and turned up the volume on the TV. “Elle and the other chaps are on the telly!”
The giant watched with grave enthusiasm. “The zombie epidemic which the U.S. government does not wish to address has just sPread to Southern California.” informed a reporter. But focus wasn’t on him, rather on the five kids on pogo sticks who hijacked the news van. “Hey, you guys can’t do that. You guys… ah, f*ck it, I hate this job.”
“Dat eez where we ah going.” the giant proclaimed and brought his one armed self back to the wheel.
“But what about me!?” Billy demanded to know. “I’m dying of scorpion venom! It’s coursing through my veins as I sPeak!”
“Amputate dah area wheh dah eenfection stahted.” Sholly suggested. “Eet will slow down dah rate of contagion throughout dah rest of dah body. Oah we can go to a zombie hosPital.”
Billy reviewed his life. “Well, I’ve had a full 8 years on this world. I wish I could say the same for my children, but there are several reasons that I won’t.”
Billy went to lie down and wait for death on two adjoining seats. That was the last anybody would sPeak of it for a while. The giant stomped his enormous foot on the gas pedal and they were headed for southern California where, maybe, they would be able to meet up with the rest of the gang and do what they could to stop Imhotep.
Ian gave Nick a break from driving and took the gang to South Central LA in the hijacked news van. Sure, there were car wrecks, burning houses and the sound of gunshots filling the air, but it was a more pleasant bedlam. “So, ah, we should, should be fine here for now.” he said whilst rockin’ through the night.
“Ian! You’re stuttering is making me nervous!” Nick said with as little thought as usual.
“Relax.” Amanda said. “We should be cool as long as we stay in the van and not let anybody in.”
Just then, a young Englishman came running up to the van and banged on the windshield. “Help me!” he cried. “In the name of all that is good and righteous with this world, you must let me inside at once!”
Ian was having a moment of doubt, but Elle convinced him otherwise. “Oh hell, he’s white. Let’s let him in!” They all looked at Elle for a moment. “What?”
With a roll of his eyes, Ian rejected his better judgment and opened the door. The dapper young gentleman was most gracious. His black hair was perfectly parted down the middle and his cardigan vest indicated he was rather wealthy. “Sir, it is with the utmost gratitude that I thank you.”
“Just looking out for our fellow man.” Ian humbly replied.
“Undeniably so.” he said reaching into his khakis. “The irony, therefore, will be quite better when you learn the treacherous intentions hidden behind the façade of a gentleman in peril.” Ian wasn’t looking at the handgun their passenger pulled out. His attention was focused more on the thirty-something gangbangers surrounding the news van. Two of them had stretched barbwire across the road and the vehicles tires had popped. “Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Paul Bowman and I shall be fleecing you on this evening.”
Elle hid the manacle behind her back, knowing full well that this most unlikely of thieves was capable of removing it in the least pleasant way imaginable. The doors of the van had rolled open and invited five black youths one might associate with the image of an inner city gangsta who grew up in this neighborhood. But when the first one sPoke, he betrayed this typecast. “Capital work, Bowman.” he sPoke in his best interpretation of the Queen’s English. “I dare liken these simpletons to the arrogant Trojans!”
“Magnificent slur, Roddington!” said one of his companions with applause.
Amanda could scarce suppress confused eyebrows. “Who the Hell are you assholes?”
“Allow me to riposte your query, my dear.” answered Bowman as only a gentleman could. “Reginald? If you would be so kind…” A fellow on the street corner played what was apparently their theme music from his boom box because everyone’s reaction seemed awfully well coordinated. It was then that they heard the first of Bowman’s singing voice.
“I came here last year as an exchange student.
One look at my surroundings and couldn’t be more prudent.
It could not be more apparent that a milquetoast such as I
Must adapt to this environment for I wish not to die!
The many youths degraded, they lacked in refinement,
Turning to lives of crime, all trying to make a cent.
Being raised across the pond, I knew little of their culture.
Their attire was sagging and their vocabulary butchered.
Could I bring two things to them, the initial would be class.
The latter, more refined ways of cheating folks of their cash.”
-“Hey nonny, nonny and a ho, ho, ho!”
“And so it was one day, that I founded the Popinjays!
South Central’s cultivated cast of criminals lead the way!
We’ve abandoned ebonics for Victorian hooked on phonics!
Though we kept the fashion statement, cuz the fop look’s kinda gay.”
“Wa-wa-wa-wai-wait…” Nick interjected, calling off the music. “You guys are called the Popinjays?”
“Yes, what of it?” Bowman wondered aloud.
“Nothing, nothing, it’s cool. Was the ‘Sissy-Marys’ taken?”
With an “Oh Snap!” Elle high fived Nick, accidentally revealing her bejeweled bracelet. Before she realized her error, it was too late and Bowman pointed a gun to her. Upon his demand, she disPlayed it for closer insPection.
“Ruby’s Diamonds, Emeralds…my word wherever did you get this?” asked the ghetto aristocrat. “Well no matter. We should be able to pawn this trinket off for a hefty sum. Remove it.”
“Believe me,” said Elle, “There’s nothing I’d love to do more, except that I can’t because it’s stuck and--”
“Now, now, my dear. No need to explain yourself.” Bowman pointed the gun to her head. “Some things are simply better done the old fashioned way.”
Alan grant had no intention of sitting by and watching his girlfriend take a bullet to the head. Before he could sPring to action though, a huge double-decker bus fell out of the sky and landed right next to the van. After a momentary quake, everybody got up and took a look at the gigantic figure stepping out of the door followed by a little girl. “Wow!” Cheryl exclaimed. “I can’t believe what just happened and how we got here so fast!”
“Convenient plot device.” the giant passed off as an explanation. The sight that met him was many gangster urbanites nervously pointing their hand guns at him. “Eddie! You got any weapons een dat heap?”
Eddie Carr and Robert Muldoon quickly ran over to the gun cabinet. The former pulled out his key and opened it to find the mangled and bloody body of the latter stuffed inside. He looked over at the Robert Muldoon standing next to him and then the other one reeking of death. There was a moment of cofusion and then Eddie came to a realization. But no sooner did this happen then Robert’s hand turned into a sandy blade and impaled his “friend”.
With an ominous “Meow”, Robert Muldoon turned into the villainous Kat.
2 B Continued...
7/21/2004 11:59:10 AM
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