Earplugs Without Pictures 11


Ever wondered what the Earplug Adventures would look like minus the photos? Might their absence highlight the shortcomings of the writing? Well let’s find out, shall we? Here’s a couple of brief extracts. In this case from this tempestuous tale…

Whilst all this had been occurring, a great motor race had been organised inside the Museum of Future Technology. The protagonists now posed for publicity shots. The race car drivers comprised a veritable who’s who of Museum celebrities. Driving for Team Liver was the butcher’s favourite – Cyrus Buttcleft (the real Cyrus Buttcleft, that is: not the illusory one last seen in the imaginary reality created by the mind of artist Anton Twerp):  Sullen the Perp – a recent arrival from the alternative ‘Evil’ reality – drove for Fenster: Naturally Magnuss Earplug was involved. Equally naturally he drove for Team Turd: Mister Pong ran his own team, which, because he was a restaurateur, he wanted to call Date and Fig – after his pet plugmutts; but unfortunately someone miss-translated the name into Chinese, and so his team was now known as Date of Manufacture: Cray-Zee was asked to drive for his friend Jeremy – and jumped at the chance of racing glory: And after exhaustive testing, Team Achtung selected Benjamin Booger – not so much for his skills with the steering string; but more for the delightful contrast between his green face and the car’s striking yellow paint work. Of course Rupert Piles was on hand to film the event…

AND

But these were mere illusory sightings. For others, experiences were only too real. Others like Captain Sinclair Brooch; his wife Nancy; and the curator, Hakking Chestikov who were in the act of stepping on to the Woven Expanse, when the very fabric of the Expanse seemed to disintegrate before their eyes and rise up like some devastating sand storm.

“This is your museum, Hak: whatta ya think?” Sinclair enquired of Hakking Chestikov.

But Hakking found that he had insufficient time to author a reply. Instead, Nancy yelled: “Run, in the name of all that’s holy heck; run!”

So they did – as did Huget and Betty Johnson, who were standing upon the opposite side of the expanse, and now ran from a sand storm that roiled like a volcanic pyroclastic flow that advanced towards them threateningly. In fact the sandstorm was consuming the entire expanse – and Vic, Bob, Mandy, and Candy felt ever so slightly threatened. In fact the two former zombies and their ex-weightlifting girlfriends felt so threatened that they rushed to the first place of relative safety that presented itself. And that place was the legendary Fallout Shelter Seven – an edifice made famous when several customers took shelter in it when the hyperspace end cap invasion force landed the year previous, and scared the pants off everyone.

By chance Magnuss and Hair-Trigger had also sought sanctuary in the same shelter. In an effort to raise morale they quickly erected some lighting rigs; built a makeshift stage: placed their novelty sombreros upon their dainty heads; and performed a two-handed version of Los Caballeros Stupido

This went down very well with the captive audience, and almost everyone joined it with the chorus; “Ooh, we’re the Caballeros Stupido, and we like to shave our hairy legs”.

© Paul Trevor Nolan 2016

Of course it’s much better with the pictures: after all you can see what’s going on! To read or download the book in its entirety – pictures and all – click on the Return to the Museum of Future Technology cover image (above) to bring up the full PDF file.

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