Earplug Adventures: The Veil of Shytar (part 3)


The pace of production has quickened. It’s a now a case of ‘full speed ahead and damn the torpedoes’. Welcome to Part Three…

Before returning to her apartment, Bubbles left her colleague to lock up BINS; then took herself to the austere apartment of the Three Wise Earplugs of Lemon Stone…

She told them of her quest and asked for advice.

“You wanna loan?” One of them inquired. “We give good rates. Nothing exorbitant, you understand.”

“No-no, I just want to know…well I want to know if you think it’s possible.” Bubbles replied. “And maybe give me a few tips.”

Another Wise Earplug nodded at this. “Wear clean knickers.” She advised. “Make them frilly: you never know when you’re going to need to flash them.”

The third Wise Earplug eyed Bubbles. “You’re not the first Punting-Modesty employee to head for the Museum of Future Technology. Have you ever heard of Buttox Barkingwell?”

Of course Bubbles knew the tale of Buttox Barkingwell’s adventures since leaving Lemon Stone – and how she had discovered a Time Shard version of the museum, buried in the mountainside. “Yeah; what about it?”

“Well, you know,” the ancient, yet strangely timeless Wise Earplug replied, “good stuff can happen. You might get lucky.”

“That’s right.” The first Wise Earplug responded to this. “She’s married to that nice Frank Tonsils now. They’ve got a pea farm, I hear. You could do worse, Bubbles. And there’s always the Café Puke: they’re constantly looking for Baristas.”

“With frilly knickers.” The second added.

But Bubbles wasn’t listening. Actually she wasn’t there at all. Instead she was collecting Barclay…

“Come on Barclay- no time to waste going home to bed.” She said chirpily. “We’ve got a mission to complete. I don’t know where it’s going to take us; but if I do half as well as Buttox Barkingwell, I’ll be a happy girl.”

Chapter 2

The early morning light was just beginning to illuminate the snowy flanks of the mountain upon which Lemon Stone stood proudly…

But of Bubbles Gloor and Barclay Scrimmage there was no sign within the citadel. That was because they had travelled through the night, and as  the light of a new day finally arrived upon the dusty plain, they could been seen approaching the vaguely legendary Transfer Conduit Station Seven…

…where both earplugs were more than a little disconcerted by the negative attitude of a local soothsayer.

“Watch it,” he shouted above the murmur of waiting earplugs, “nothing good can come from travelling all over the place at relativistic speeds. You’ll only get your brains scrambled and your colon disconcerted. And any plans you have to better your lives – put them aside: they’re a load of rubbish: you’re all doomed.”

Bubbles continued to feel unsettled as they made their way to the ticket office…

This quickly turned to nausea when the ticket clerk informed Barclay of the vast price for a direct transfer to the Museum of Future Technology.

“It would probably be cheaper to hitch a ride on a pea wagon to La Ciudad de Droxford; then ride a mag-lift train into the museum.” The clerk added helpfully. “It wouldn’t be very quick; but it would mean you could afford one night in a Ciudad de Droxford high-rise hotel. That’s not to be missed, so they tell me.”

Three days later witnessed the cheerful couple amble across a dangerous walkway that would carry them into the closest conurbation to their ultimate destination – La Ciudad de Droxford…

“Oh, this is more like it.” Barclay said with satisfaction. “I got sick to death of riding that pea wagon. I think I still have the odd pea shuck trapped between my buttocks.

“Yes,” Bubbles agreed, “my pink panties are now irreversibly stained pea green. I can’t wait to have a shower in one of those high-rise hotels.”

In time the walkway carried them into the centre of the city, where Barclay stood open-mouthed at the view, and Bubbles asked three prospective competitors in a hat-wearing competition for directions to the hospitality area…

Whilst Mister Stovepipe-Hat, K’Plank the Space Wanderer, and former running back, Dan Down ‘n’ Out kindly pointed the way, the conversation was being observed from an apartment window several storeys above the participants…

“Oh look, Jake,” Mary-Sue Wassack said to her flatmate, Jungle-Jake Johnson, “more out-of-towners. What’s the bet they end up making their way to the Museum of Future Technology?”

“Pretty high, I’d guess.” Jungle-Jake replied. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to use the bog.”

So it was a solitary Mary-Sue who tore herself away from the view…

…whilst wondering who the ‘new folks’ were, and conjectured upon the likelihood of them utilizing the Café Puke outlet at which she and Jungle-Jake worked.

“Evens, I’d say.” She said to an empty room – before adding, “I wonder if we’ll ever earn enough to furnish this room: it looks a little Spartan. A carpet would be nice too.”

Shortly after Mary-Sue’s and Jungle-Jake’s departure to their place of work, Bubbles led Barclay into the foyer of one of the cities fabled high-rise hotels…

Whilst Barclay was instantly stunned by the minimalist décor, Bubbles fell in love with the view of the cityscape as seen through a huge picture window.

“Gosh,” she said, “I feel so parochial. It’s hard to believe that we both studied at the University of La Ciudad de Droxford. I think we’ve been living on that damned mountain top for too long.”

But Barclay wasn’t really listening: he was lip reading the earplug that had just exited the communal lavatory. “Flipping heck,” he exclaimed, “they’ve got moist toilet tissue!”

A few hours later – having settled into their room – both would-be spies sat themselves down to study a travelogue of their intended destination…

“Oh look,” Bubbles squealed, “it’s the residential area. Just regard that wondrous architecture and careless abandonment of regimented structure. If this plan of ours doesn’t pan out, we could always get ourselves a job as Baristas. In fact one of the Wise Earplugs of Lemon Stone strongly intimated we should.”

“Hmmm,” Barclay replied, “I suppose – as a last resort…”

© Paul Trevor Nolan 2022

P.S Did anyone notice the shot that featured my fabled tea dust art? Tea dust art: excellent for creating mountaintop monasteries.

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