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1988-07-31
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302 lines
Magnum's Dark and Stormy Night
by
Philip Dunham
It was a dark and stormy night. The wind howled and the hogs
squealed, and the chipmunks just sat there! The streets were deserted,
except for the street festival and the ensuing traffic jam.
The tacky black, yellow and orange helicopter swooped out of the sky
and landed on the front lawn of the old mansion. A dashing young man
climbed out of the 'copter looking like he just stepped out of GQ magazine.
He handed the keys to the parking attendent along with a twenty dollar
bill. "Make sure you don't scratch the paint job," the man said. "And I
don't want to find any used condoms in the back seat."
The parking attendent smiled sheepishly and glanced at his girlfriend,
whose car was still stuck in the traffic. She loved to do it in the back
seat of a helicopter.
As the man walked to the front door, he decided to do his George Raft
impersonation. The door bell didn't ring, it howled like a cat whose tail
had been hacked off with a butcher knife.
The door opened and the tall thin butler with an eagle beak of a nose
stood in the doorway. "Come in, sir," Eagle Beak said.
"Thanks Frenchie," the man replied smugly, knowing that his George
Raft was impeccable.
The butler wondered what he meant by that crack; he was British and
sounded like it too! "You're quite welcome...", the butler said as the
young man walked by. But under his breath the butler added "...asshole!".
As the young man was walking down the hall he passed a guy leaning
casually against the wall. "You'll never make it out alive, kid." He had
the brim of his hat pulled down over his eyes, and all the time he was
flipping a coin into the air and catching it as it came down.
"Shit," the young man thought, "he's got my George Raft beat all to
hell."
Without breaking stride the young man changed to his Humphry Bogart
impersonation. It wasn't as good as his George Raft, but it was either
Bogart or Bruce Willis. Bruce Willis just didn't seem to fit here.
When he arrived at the main ballroom the hostess came over to him and
introduced herself. "My name is Countess Aberdeli Pastrami," she said in
a soft Italian accent. Suddenly she broke into a Bogart impression, "who
'da hell are you, Sweetheart?"
"Looks like it's up to Bruce after all," he thought. "My name is
Tom," he said as he put on a pair of sunglasses, "I think I took a wrong
turn someplace, I was looking for the bathroom and I haven't seen any
porcelain since I got here," he said in his Bruce Willis voice.
The Countess arched her eyebrow and looked at him long and hard for a
minute, but had pity on the young man (and her carpet), and pointed to a
door in the hall.
"Thanks babe, you really don't know how much this means to me," Tom
said, and dashed off down the hall. As he slipped through the door, he let
out a long sigh and wondered how he had managed not to wet his pants.
'The Governer's daughter is being held prisoner somewhere in this
mansion and I sure as hell am going to find her,' Tom thought to himself as
he took off the sunglasses.
'And these narratives are a dirty job, but someone has to do them.'
And with that he turned around and noticed that he wasn't in a bathroom at
all. He was in a dungeon, complete with stone walls, torches for light and
a torture rack. It also had a TV showing re-runs of 'I Love Lucy,' along
with a few other implements of pain and mental trauma.
'Yep,' he said to himself, 'this must be the right place.' The room
was silent except for an occasional, "Awwwww Rickkkiieee" and some occult
sounding chanting coming from a large hole in one of the walls.
'Ah-ha' he said to himself, 'this looks like a clue!' He peeked
through the hole and saw a sight that startled even him. It was a large
underground cavern with a bonfire in the center of the cave. Standing
around the fire were a bunch of people wearing long monk-like robes and
chanting . At the far end of the cave was the statue of a large demon
creature. This in itself wasn't enough to bother him too much, but the
fact that the statue was starting to move unnerved him.
While Tom was wondering how to get into the cave, he was startled by
some more chanting coming down the hall. "Uh-oh", he said stepping behind a
curtain as another dozen monks entered the room and headed for the hole in
the wall. As the twelfth one went by the lump in the drapery, a hand
reached out and clasped itself over the warlock's mouth and pulled him in.
A quiet "Murff" and a muffled thud were all that was heard at the end of
the line, and that was covered by chanting and a fairly loud "Baba-Loo".
Tom stepped out from behind the curtain and adjusted the robe and
plopped the hood over his head. "Hang on Maddie, here I come!" he said and
took off after the rest of the group.
Stone steps led down into the cave, and slime covered the walls.
Near the bottom of the steps the hooded figure ahead of Tom looked back.
"Hey that's a nice robe you got there, where'd you get yours?"
"Uh, K-Mart," Tom said without thinking. "It was on sale." The whole
group turned and looked at him. 'I think I'm in deep shit now,' Tom
thought as the robed figures pressed in around him.
"Do they have any left?" the one in front said.
"Do they have any in extra large?"
"What other colors do they have?"
"Can they put one on lay-away?"
"Do they have any in pink?" the assemblage asked.
Tom just nodded his head a lot; inside, he sighed a sigh of relief
that the robe was dark brown and wouldn't show any embarrassing stain.
The warlocks gathered around a marble slab as the Governer's daughter
was being dragged out. She was wearing a red dress that was cut so low in
front that you could see pubic hair, and so high on the sides you could see
armpit hair. "This is our virgin sacrifice to the great god 'Bauslog'" the
leader of the coven said to the group.
"She's a virgin?" Tom said dubiously.
"In my left ear," she said with a sheepish grin. The crowd grumbled a
little bit, but the consensus was that that was good enough for what they
had in mind for her.
"All right now," said the High Priest, "enough of this fooling
around, get up on the altar like a good little sacrifice."
The Governer's daughter hesitated. "Look guys, I thought this was a
regular, everyday kind of kinky orgy. You never said anything about a
sacrifice, I'm not sure I want to go through with this."
The assembalage let out with a low, sarcastic, "Aw shucks," and some
joker in the back started playing a violin.
Tom was still dwelling on the phrase 'kinky orgy' when he realized
that the coven really meant business. By this time a couple of the monks
had thrown the girl up on the altar and the High Priest had pulled what
looked like an ornamental, jeweled steak knife from under his robes.
"Tink fast, you waskeley wabbet," Tom said to himself as he pushed to
the front of the group. Walking up next to the Priest, he managed to step
on the statue's foot. The statue was not amused, and let Tom know it with
a mean growl.
"What do you want?" the High Priest said in exasperation.
"It's your wife on the phone," Tom said in a whisper that carried to
about half of the group. "She said if you don't come home 'right this
instant', you'll be eating cold meals for the next month."
The priest looked real uncomfortable as he handed the steak knife to
Tom. "Could you take over for me here?" Tom nodded his head as the priest
stormed off. "Jesus Christ ... sorry, by the Holy Bauslog, I swear one of
these days, pow ... to the moon!"
Tom felt a little sorry for the poor schmuck, but figured he should
be home with his family, instead of staying out till all hours of the night
killing virgins.
"Ahem ..." Bauslog said, nodding toward the girl and tapping his
still sore foot. He had the look of a very impatient demon.
Thinking as fast as he could, considering the situtation, Tom threw
off the robe, put on his Groucho Marx glasses and mustache and popped a
rubber cigar in his mouth. The move was so fast and fluid that everyone
thought it was part of the ceremony, even the demon wasn't too sure.
"Say da' secret woid, and win a hundred dollars," Tom said to the
confused demon.
"Huh???"
"That's it, you win a hundred dollars," Tom said as a rubber chicken
on a string dropped down from the ceiling. The card in his beak had the
word 'huh' on it. As Tom handed the crisp one hundred dollar bill to the
demon, he pulled the girl off the altar. "Hey guys, you've been a good
crowd, but I've got to go now. It's been real, and it's been fun ..." Tom
said as he ran out the side door.
At this point the group didn't know what to think, when Tom poked his
head back in the door. "... but, it ain't been real fun!"
The demon didn't care about any of this, he had never won anything in
his life and he was very pleased with the fact that he had just won a
hundred dollars. A few seconds later he realized that he was a demon, he
didn't need money, and that his virgin just skipped out with Groucho Marx!
As the pair ran down the hallway, the girl managed to ask Tom between
pants and gasps, "Who are you and where are we going, and for that matter,
where did that rubber chicken come from?"
"I am your saviour, your salvation, your hero. I'm your Zorro
without a mask, Superman without tights, James Bond with a toupe. I'm here
ta rescue ya babe," Tom said, not realizing he was still doing Bruce
Willis.
The Governer's daughter stopped and looked deep into Tom's blue eyes.
"A name would work real well right now."
Dropping back into his normal voice, he replied, "Hi, the name's
Thomas Magnum, I'm a private investigator."
"Oh. O.K. Tom, good to meet you, my name is Janice," she said as she
started to sprint for the door. "You better get your ass in gear, those
guys aren't in a real good mood right now."
Stepping through the door marked 'Exit,' the pair emerged on the side
of the house that faced the valet parking area. The chopper was right in
front, in a space marked 'Reserved for J. Baker.' They could hear the roar
of the demon as Tom helped Janice into the helicopter. Tom slid into the
pilot's seat and started the motor.
The door from the mansion burst open just as the 'copter was leaving
the ground. The demon stepped out and let out a scream that caused all of
the guppies in the fishtanks within a fifty mile radius to turn belly up.
He jumped at the departing helicopter and tried to grab the landing rail,
but missed by mere inches.
"You've had your turn, now it's mine," Tom said rhetorically as he
started feeling around under the seat for his gun. Instead, all he found
was a used condom. The look on Tom's face was enough to convince Janice
that it wasn't his. "Yuck," Tom said as he tossed the rubber out the
window.
Down on the ground, the monster was following the lights of the
'copter. His prey had left the area of the mansion, but he didn't care. He
wanted to get them.
The demon bellowed and shook his fist at the 'copter, just when the
condom hit him in the eye. Blinded for a second, the creature stepped on
to the highway and was hit by a truck.
The truck driver saw a big hairy beast, but was unable to stop in
time. The sight of a semi hitting a demon is not a pretty one.
The Governer's daughter was safe, the demon was destroyed, and by the
way Janice was looking at Thomas, he was going to have some fun tonight.
Suddenly, he realized that something had been bothering him. Off in
the distance, he thought he could hear someone calling his name. "Oh no,"
he said, "don't tell me this has all been a ..."
"MAGNUM!!!!" yelled Higgins at the top of his voice. Thomas, still
half asleep, fell out of bed. He quickly pulled on a pair of shorts, and
ran into the living room.
The guesthouse looked as if a hurricane had been invited in to spend
the night.
T.C. was laying on the floor, face down in the remains of a pizza
called "Maunaloa's Revenge". Rick was on the couch, where he had passed
out, reaching for the last roll of sushi. Vague memories of ten chili dogs
wandered into his mind; it must have been a good party, he wouldn't feel
this lousy if it wasn't.
The Tigers won the game the night before, and the celebration
included an extra large pizza, a large plate from "Sushi Man" and those ten
(bruupp) chili dogs. Tom had to try a little of every thing. 'O.K.,
O.K.', he thought to himself, 'I had to try a lot of everything.'
"I just stopped by to bring you the newspaper," Higgins said in a
snottier-than-usual tone, "Oh yes, and by the way, what is T.C.'s
whirlybird doing in the tennis court?"
Tom smiled dispite the fact his head felt like it was going to
explode. "Playing tennis?"
Higgins gently dropped the newspaper on the table, and walked away,
making sure to slam the door on his way out. Rick fell off the couch. Tom
grabbed his aching head and whimpered. T.C. just rolled over in his pizza.
"Thomas," Rick said, picking himself up off the floor, "That was some
party, wasn't it?"
"Yes Rick, it was strange last night." Thoughts of the dream were
still rolling around in his mind. Tom glanced down at the newspaper and
noticed a small story about a bear that was hit by a semi last night.
According to the story, no one could figure out what a bear was doing on
the highway. 'Going to a party?' Tom thought to himself. He started to
laugh, but the pounding in his head convinced him not to.
"A bear on the highway," Tom thought aloud, "but what if it wasn't a
bear. What if it was a ... Nawww, it was just a dream."
"Thomas," Janice said as she walked out of the bedroom, "what was that
noise?"
Tom saw her standing there, a sheet wrapped around her. It was the
girl in his dream, and she was wiping something out of her ear. Her ...
left ear.
* * * * * *