Yesterday, I made a post about the Revenge cast in Action, so now it’s time for the Pahkitew cast in World Tour, with Sierra and Alejandro joining them. To get one thing out of the way, Sierra and Alejandro are here because without them, the cast would be to small. Also, they joined as newbies in World Tour, and here, everyone is a newbie, so Sierra and Alejandro are gen 3 in this universe. Anyway, let’s get started.
Episode 1: Chris introduces the new cast, and also the new gimmick, singing. Reactions were mixed about this, Sierra, Topher and Ella thought it was a great idea, Jasmine, Dave, and Max were just annoyed, and others were just indifferent. The first challenge was located in Egypt, where they could choose to climb over, or go through a Pyramid. Nobody quits because there isn’t enough people. At the end, Chris announced that there were three teams this season, and he was to lazy to make names, so the contestants had to do it. The teams were dubbed...
The Dastardly Evil Masterminds: Shawn, Topher, Max, Jasmine, Sky, and Scarlett.
The Marvelous Magicians: Dave, Leonard, Beardo, Alejandro, and Sierra.
The Midwestern Actresses: Sugar, Amy, Sammy, Ella, and Rodney.
Song: Come Fly With Us
Episode 2: The episode began after the teams were formed, they each got prizes for a camel race. The Actresses won a camel, the Magicians won a goat, and the Masterminds were stuck with a stick. Suddenly, they all had to run away from a swarm of bugs, and make it to the Nile River while doing it. The teams had to weave a basket big enough to support the weight of the team members, and their prize. Sierra was really good with a weave, while the masterminds, having a lot of smart people, were good too. The Actresses were a lost cause, having there boat being completely awful, but thankfully for them.
17th, Max: He has a new invention that could turn animals evil. He used it on a Crocodile, thinking it would attack the other team, but it went crazy, destroying all the boats, and the Masterminds were the team that came last. He was shocked to be voted off, and clinger onto the plane when he was tossed out, and climbed into the cargo hold.
Song: Running Time
Episode 3: Chris said the next challenge would be in Japan, Scarlett started complaining that the outfit was actually Chinese, so chef cut the door open, which we sucked all the teams out the door, falling to the ground. Luckily, they landed in a big bowl of rice, and Alejandro complimented on her smarts, but she didn’t fall for his charms. The challenge was to make a commercial for Chef’s new food. Scarlett has a basic understanding of commercials, and Topher was a good actor, it came as a shock to nobody when they won first class. Leonard was annoying Dave with his LARPing, and Alejandro took this as an opportunity to mess with him. He told Leonard that his skills with leading parties and such could make him a great team leader, he accepted this challenge, and took it upon himself to lead the team. He did horribly, and the Magicians were going to lose, until...
16th, Sugar: A certain redhead stole the footage for the Actresses commercial, and corrupted it, they had the worst commercial, and Amy blamed the loss on Sugar. Leonard was celebrating the victory, but Dave intimidated him, saying that if it wasn’t for the corruption, he would be gone, and he should quit LARPing.
Song: Before We Die
Episode 4: The Juno Jet landed in the freezing winters of the Yukon, teams had to jump across ice flows to pull a sled to victory. Jasmine pulled the sled for the Masterminds, Dave also tries attracting Sky, which she’s flattered by. Beardo also becomes more social, and Ella and Sammy form a friendship. Leonard has to pull his sled, and didn’t try to use magic, he still came last, but the Actresses are missing a member.
15th, Rodney: His tongue was stuck to a pole, and the Actresses couldn’t find him. He tried to say he was tricked, but was pushed out. Scarlett stood behind a pillar smirking, revealing that she was the one who did this.
Song: Country Love
Episode 5: The challenge took place in New York, they had to climb the Statue of Liberty to get a baby carriage, Amy was excited to sing in New York, but Ella was a bit more focused on her bullying. Alejandro also started playing Sierra, telling her to talk about embarrassing things Chris did, which got him mad. Topher also lost a bit of respect he had for him. The challenge was also the first reward challenge, and nobody was sent home.
Song: What’s Not To Love?
Episode 6: The first aftermath. Like last time, the couples of last season were the host every episode. This episode was with Lightning and Anne Maria as hosts, both being stupid, they weren’t very good. Also, there was a new segment called total Drama fugitives, where an eliminated contestants was missing, that contestant being Max.
Peanut Gallery: Whiskers, Keith, Jose, Chef (Topher’s cat)
Interviews: Sugar, and Rodney.
Song: Cap-try Style
Episode 7: Contestants were dropped into a massive pile of snow, where they had to be quiet and sing. Alejandro started telling Amy to “Seize the day” which she knew exactly what that meant. Scarlett took notice of this. The seconded part of the challenge was to shove meat into a meat grinder, which disgusted Dave. Speaking of Dave, him and Beardo has become good friends at this point, though he still hated Leonard, even though he was becoming a somewhat normal person. The final part of the challenge was a German Slap-off, which Jasmine dominated in, being much stronger than everyone else.
Xth, Amy: Scarlett started taunting her on the platform, which she go annoyed by, and threw her and herself off the platform. She beat her up so bad she nocked a tooth out. She cost the team the challenge, and Sammy and Ella celebrated having such a menace gone. Alejandro started talking to Scarlett about what she did, but she said she knows that he’s evil.
Song: German Slap-off!
Episode 8: The teams were dropped off at the Amazon, and Chris said that he had a special announcement. The Actresses were going to merge with the other teams, Sammy was going on the Masterminds, while Ella was going to the Magicians. Jasmine started leading the team around the jungle, and was impressed when Shawn knew a lot about forests, forming a quick friendship. Leonard tried to lead the team, but ended up getting them captured by the Zing Zings. Luckily, Beardo managed to scare them off with his sound effects, but they were at a massive disadvantage. The Masterminds won, and Leonard was going to be voted off, but it was announced to be a reward challenge.
Song: It’s All Your Fault!
Episode 9: Paris, the place of art, and love. Leonard was upset that Dave was so mean to him, and Beardo wanted him to apologize. Alejandro defended him though, saying he could think what he wants, if he was going to dig his own grave, so be it. Sammy and Topher started to fall for each other, and Shawn started falling for Jasmine after realizing how wicked cool she was. The Masterminds found there prices really fast, and to ensure such a victory...
14th, Leonard: Scarlett pushes down the Magician’s statue and blamed it on Leonard, he tried to defend himself, but Dave has already made up his mind, and was glad to be gone of such an annoyance.
Song: Oui, My Friends
Episode 10: Why did they land in the middle of the ocean? To have the next challenge of course! Contestants had to race boats to the eastern shore. Alejandro and Scarlett rivalry was starting to get really high, and Alejandro was trying to play Ella, while Dave was trying to impress Sky, and Beardo was encouraging him. The seconded part was a challenge where they had to do very odd tasks. The last part was kissing a cod. Beardo told Dave to imagine he was kissing Sky, and he forgot all about how gross it was, while Shawn did the same thing, but for Jasmine. Jasmine has also taken notice off Sammy’s crush on Topher, and was trying to get them together. In honor of Chris being in his homeland, he made it a reward challenge, and nobody was sent home.
Song: Sea Shanty
Episode 11: The Jumbo Jet has crashed in the deserts of Jamaica, and one contestant had been very injured. The show had to go on though, and a challenge had begun. Contestants had to dive off a cliff into waters filled with sharks. Alejandro ended up grabbing the gold, but Scarlett stole it. The seconded part was to skateboard through a very dangerous obstacle course. The Masterminds has more physically dominate players, but the Magicians just edged it out.
13th/12th, Dave and Sky: Dave was the contestant injured by the Jumbo Jet, and had to be removed from the game. Sky and Beardo were very upset about this, but Alejandro worked his Magic to get Sky distracted, and lose the challenge.
Song: Watch The Fang!
Episode 12: The seconded aftermath. Despite not being a couple, Brick and Jo were instructed by the network to host the aftermath, as their fighting would real in money. Why did they need money? To repair the Jumbo Jet, the aftermath hosted a telethon to gain funds for the season again. There was many things going on, like Sky, Dave and Keith Drama, why Leonard LARPs, Amy joining the fugitives party, and how Jo singing in a dress in hilarious.
Song: Save This Show
Interviews: Leonard, Sky, and Dave.
Episode 13: Alejandro suddenly went missing, which Chris pretended didn’t happen. The teams were dropped off in London, and had to an advanced version of the psycho killer challenge. The teams had to solve riddles to find out were Jack the Ripper was hiding, while the Ripper was hunting them down. Jasmine and Shawn formed an amazing team together, while Beardo, Ella, and Sierra were becoming the next team E-scope. In the end, Jasmine and Shawn caught the real killer, while diet team E-scope caught a fraud. That fraud was actually Amy, which the others were shocked by, sense she was here, Chris said she could rejoin the game in staid if Max. When questioned about Max, Chris reveled who the Ripper really was, a feral Max, who had turned green and was losing hair. He was tossed back out, but he clung onto the wing again.
11th, Sammy: Scarlett told Amy that she was going to be voted out. Amy started panicking and begged her for a solution, Scarlett said she would give one as long as she joined in on her alliance. She agreed, and Scarlett suggested a switch. She disguised herself as Sammy, and Sammy tried to warn them, but was pushed out before she could say anything.
Song: Strip Them Down
Episode 14: The teens were going to compete in some Olympic event, and they almost landed in the wrong place, but was fixed thanks to Scarlett, Jasmine, and Alejandro. It came down to the tiebreaker, and Alejandro noticed something odd with Shawn, and riled him to tell everyone what he knows. He said that he saw Topher and Amy kiss, and apparently, Topher has no idea Sammy was gone, but Jasmine was too made to listen, and told Topher that she was going to beat him like a kangaroo. At the elimination ceremony, Topher was going to be eliminated, but Chris didn’t want to eliminate him with all the drama going on, so he got to play another day.
Song: Greek Trickery
Episode 15: In one of the most dangerous challenges yet, the teens had to raid area51, and steal an alien artifact. Jasmine started comforting Shawn when he started freaking out about conspiracy theories, and Topher tried his hardest to win, knowing he was going to be eliminated. Ella’s singing and Beardo’s beatboxing were enough to distract the aliens, however...
10th, Sierra: She stepped on a mine while running with the artifact, and it gets destroyed. Alejandro suggests voting her off to put her out of her misery, and Beardo and Ella don’t want to do it, but they had to.
Song: Cheating Boyfriend
Episode 16: Jasmine was excited to visit her home town Australia. Shawn took it upon himself to try impressing her about being good with the challenge. While the other team was good with animals, Jasmine absolutely crushed them, and they had to send someone packing.
9th, Beardo: Scarlett thew a dingo at him, which made him dizzy. When it came to voting, Ella voted for Alejandro, Alejandro votes for Beardo, and Beardo was so dizzy he accidentally voted for himself.
Song: Native Rock
Episode 17: The third ice challenge of the season. The two teams had to build a boat, and battle Viking style, the first ship to sink would lose. Topher was starting to get more saddened by Sammy leaving, while Shawn, a sort-of-friend of Topher’s, tried helping him out. In the end, The Magicians finally won a challenge, with Alejandro carrying them, as Ella was completely against violence. It was completely pointless anyway, as it was a reward challenge, and many have speculated that the challenge was just filler.
Song: We Built Sam’s Face
Episode 18: One of the most important aftermaths. Mike and Zoey hosted this time, and they put on a game show in which an eliminated contestant, or member of the Peanut Gallery would join the game.
Song: His Real Name Isn’t Beardo
Winner: Jose
Interviews: Sammy, Sierra, and Beardo.
Episode 19: The contestants were woken up falling into Niagara Falls, they had to rapidly save themselves. Topher got the adrenaline to save them after Amy said that if they lived, she would admit that Samey is better than her. Chris took the survivors to a casino, Amy was excited to gamble, but was disappointed to find themselves on a show stage. Chris announced that a new contestant would be joining the game, and Alejandro paled when he found out it was his brother Jose. Everyone was charmed by his looks, even the guys. Chris then said that they were gonna have some arranged marriages, and the guys were put into a slot machine, and the girls would have to gamble to see who they would get. The pairs were: Shawn and Jasmine, Alejandro and Scarlett, Topher and Amy, and Jose and Ella. The grooms had to guide their wives threw an optical course to get a dress, everyone succeeded. The grooms then had to carry their wife across a tight rope to get to America. Alejandro took the time to confront Scarlett about the eliminations she caused, while Scarlett counters with the eliminations he caused, they end up fighting, and falling off. Jose also stole Ella’s heart. While Topher and Amy fought a lot. In the end, Shawn and Jasmine has the most chemistry, and won. Shawn also asked Jasmine out, and she accepted, they were now a couple.
Winners: Shawn and Jasmine
8th, Amy: Topher pretty much begged the others to help him vote out Amy, being a jerk, they accepted to voting her out. She gave a warning about Scarlett before leaving though.
Song: Spainerific
Episode 20: Scarlett knew she was in trouble, so Alejandro tried to form an alliance with him. She refused, saying she could do things on her own. Jose has started to blackmail Alejandro though, and made him help with the challenge. However, they both failed in the eating challenge, and even though her stomach wasn’t that good, Scarlett managed to beat Shawn in the eating challenge.
Winner: Scarlett
7th/6th, Jose and Ella: Alejandro ended up being the one to crawl to Scarlett, and asked her to help him vote out Jose, Scarlett agreed, as long as he was her slave for the rest of the game. Shawn votes for Jose because he was getting jealous of him attracting Jasmine, Jasmine, Topher, and Jose voted for Ella do to being annoying, and Ella voted for Jasmine because Jose told her to. The producers were breathing down Chris’s neck, so he kicked them both out of the plane to save costs.
Song: Chinese Lesson
Episode 21: The contestants were taken to the scorching hot deserts of Africa, were they had to hunt down a completely Feral Max. Scarlett has Alejandro helping her, but her stood up for himself and cursed at her in Spanish. Shawn and Jasmine excelled in this challenge, but Shawn let her have the win. After everything he went through, Max still didn’t learn, and crawled back onto the plane.
Winner: Jasmine
5th, Topher: Scarlett talked to Shawn and Jasmine, and told them that Topher had to go, saying that him and Alejandro would team up and take them down if she was gone, they didn’t want to vote out there friend, but Scarlett’s words were just to convincing. Jasmine later beat herself up over it for falling for her schemes.
Song: Wake Up
Episode 22: The not really campers were dropped off at Easter Island, and had to do an egg hunt. There were statues of the eliminated contestants around, and when Alejandro questioned it, Chris pretty much told him to shut up. When everyone had gathered their eggs, they had to deliver it back to the mother Condor. Shawn won because it was as easy as climbing trees.
Winner: Shawn
Song: Condor
Episode 23: The final four landed in drumheller, they had to find bones to make a dinosaur. In the end, Shawn’s weird poop Dino won. Later, they had to retrieve buried cans of oil. Again, Shawn won, and Scarlett and Alejandro teamed up to take out Jasmine.
Winner: Shawn
4th, Shawn: Scarlett was going to be eliminated, but Shawn stopped the ceremony with a cake to celebrate him and Jasmine’s one weak anniversary. Unfortunately for him, they candles created a bunch of sparks, and fell into the oil puddle below him. It caused an explosion, which blew up the Jumbo Jet, in a fit of rage, Chris disqualified him from the game.
Song: This Is How We Will End It
Episode 24: The final aftermath. This time, it was set in a different location, Hawaii. Sam and Dakota were the hosts, and had a competition to see who would get an advantage in the finale. Sammy was representing for Jasmine, Jose for Alejandro, and Amy for Scarlett. In the end, Jasmine won a baby carriage, Alejondro won a wealbaroal, Scarlett got squat.
Interviews: Amy, Ella, Jose, and Topher.
Songs: Who Ya Gonna Root For?, and Hawaiian style.
Episode 25: The episode opened up with the aftermath of the explosion. Chris declares that the next challenge was immediately starting. Scarlett came at Alejandro, saying he was a traitor for voting her off, but Alejandro didn’t care. Shawn helped Jasmine get to the finish, and Scarlett created a monster from the remains of the Jumbo Jet. At the end, Alejandro won a spot in the finale, but Jasmine and Scarlett tied.
Winner: Alejandro
Song: I’m Gonna Make It
Episode 26: The episode was live, and Alejandro got to pick the tiebreaker, on who got to be with him. The challenge was a duel, and Jasmine was confident in her win, but Scarlett went crazy, and threw Jasmine into the water, getting her into the final challenge.
3rd, Jasmine: She lost the tiebreaker.
The two finalists got helpers to preform the challenge, Scarlett chose Amy and Jose, while Alejandro chose Shawn and Jasmine. The two races up the volcano, and Alejandro was going to win, when Scarlett started playing dumb. She said she liked him, but actually kicked him in the kiwis, and sent him flying down the mountain. She said that she never liked him anyway, and that he was an idiot for believing the facade. Before a prize could be given to the winner, Max came up from behind, stole the case, and fell into the volcano. It erupted, and the teens had to run for their lives, and Chris ended off the season.
Winner: You chose.
Song: Versus
Anyway, you may have noticed that some of this was similar to World Tour, but the Pahkitew cast doesn’t have much depth to them, shocker, I know. If there is anything you would change, please let me know, as any advice if greatly appreciated, and whose ending do you prefer?

Continuing
Well, when the props fouled the third time, I suggested we call it a day, as we’d already made some 32 sea-kilometers. We were out on the fringes of the worst of the kelp forest beds, and after a good night’s sleep, we’d be ready to deploy bright and early and get some seismic data acquired and recorded.
But, first, there was the first night aboard ship. In a rusty old tin-can with few creature comforts, as the annual winter monsoon winds wane and the seas actually begin to settle slightly.
I took that as both good omens. The bitching and kvetching I head from the locals about the ‘abominable weather they had to endure’, even from the Coast Guard types, really struck me as uproariously funny.
I just chalked it up to being sequestered from the rest of the world for so long. Put these characters in the path of a Midwestern tornado, East Indian summer monsoon, or Siberian blizzard, and they’d shit themselves blind. I didn’t really think too much of it, although it became somewhat of a game when the imperialistic foreigners tried to one-up each other with horror stories from excursions past.
“No shit”, Dax said, “We were snowed in for a full fortnight.”
“No!” several of us recoiled in mock horror.
“Oh, yah, hey.” Dax continued, “It’s just great when blizzards snap the power lines, and all the toilets freeze. The house cat didn't die until we burned up all our wood. Considering we ate her raw, she tasted pretty good…”
Several of our handlers, a few in the Coast Guard and most of the Korean scientists reacted rather badly to Dax’s story; especially when it had been gorily translated.
Seeing this, Dax stood up, got the soju bottle, and asked if anyone needed a top-up. I asked while puffing away on a large Jamaican cigar if anyone needed a smoke.
At this point, Dax was winning. He had seven of the assembled crowd run to the rail to relieve themselves of our canned Chinese dinner.
Not ever one to shrink from a challenge, I related my second-hand story of my Brother-in-law, who was in the US Coast Guard for years and years. I waited for the green crowd to re-join us and regain what remained of their composure. I figured the quasi-military national Coast Guarders here would appreciate the tale.
Mine wasn’t a gory or shocking tale, just one of the incredible water conditions off the coast of California.
I waited until everyone was settled, drink in hand, and smokin’ ‘em if you got ‘em.
“Well”, I said, “It was on board a ship much like the one we’re currently on,” I said as a rascal wave broke over the railing in counterpoint. “About the same size as this vessel, but with smaller wheels. You know these Coast Guard shallow-water boys”, I chuckled. Always meaning to jab one group or another in the place where I know it stings.
Yeah, I’m a real bastard that way sometimes.
The Korean Coast Guarders sneered hardly at me; but not too hard. They liked my cigars, cigarettes, and open disbursement policy too much.
“Yeah, anyways”, I continued, “He was offshore California in one of the US Coast Guard cutters. It was a boat about 26 meters or so in length. They were out doing search and rescue after a mega-nasty storm blew in from the west and scuttled a sailing regatta race.”
I was drawing them in with my ‘just so’ story, nice and easy, until…
“Yeah, there were several capsized monohulls, catamarans and trimarans. Damn, these things were fucking yachts. Owned by rich idiots that almost knew how to sail but didn’t know enough to get out of the way of a fucking severe storm…”
I really had their attention with ‘soaking the rich’.
“Well, the waves grew and grew, but my Brother-in-laws's boat was built to handle severe weather. These patrol and rescue boat has the capability to roll over 360 degrees and self-right within 30 seconds. Like right now, you’d never even notice this degree rock and roll”, I said as I demonstrated with my cigar, tracing out tighter and tighter rolls, and higher degrees of rocking and rolling.
“They were approaching a capsized trimaran, but the waves kept growing and growing…” I said, leading by example and having them watch me with unblinking attention.
“The waves grew and grew, and normally you’d take these head-on. But that was impossible, because when afternoon came it was slashin' rain, in the face of a hurricane west wind. The boat rolled to the left, heeled, almost keeled, a then rolled the other way just as quickly.” I noted.
They followed me as I timed it with the heavings of our own boat, to the left…to the right…
“Then, just as they were about to reach upon the trimaran, a rogue wave! Out of nowhere”, I said, rocking and rolling along with our own little boat, “BAM! Hit amidships! It didn’t roll once, it rolled twice!” I made great and magniloquent gestures of a tiny boat being savaged by a monstrous rogue sea wave.
I stood up, blew a great blue cloud of smoke towards the poop deck, and said, loudly, “Rolled over once. A full 360! Then rolled right over again. A full 720 degrees!” as I demonstrated what happened with my cigar and drink.
The eyes following me rolled and rolled as well. Some straight back into the owner’s head and some to the left, some to the right…it was like ‘Loose Slots’ night in Vegas, they were rolling and rolling.
And then racing for the rails. Topside to deliver the remains of their hearty canned dinners.
“Beat you, Dax!” I smiled as I sat back down, “I got nine with that at one. And two of them were Coasties!”
“Did that really happen?” Ivan asked.
“According to my Brother-in-law. But he’s an engineer if you know what I mean…” I smiled.
We concluded story night as we had drifted free of the kelp forest and the Captain of the boat decided he’d risk an anchorage for the night. The weather was ameliorating, the seas calming themselves down, and the wind dropping a couple of notches on the Beaufort Scale.
“Well, gents”, I said, “I need some air. The aroma down here of Chinese Aplo™ for dinner, those who didn’t make it to the rails, and the solitary head for the entire crew has lost its charm. If you’ll excuse me”, I said as I grabbed a bottle of ersatz vodka, and several cans of Taedonggang beer, “I’ll be on the aft deck; in my comfy chair and contemplating the wonder of it all.”
With that, I ventured up the stairs and out onto the aft deck.
Dax naturally followed and he found his own not-bolted-down deck chair. We had a constant flow of visitors, foreign and nationals alike. It was shaping up to be a fine night for being out under the stars, there was no light pollution at all. We sat in our chairs, drank our drinks, smoked our smokes, and argued the finer points of astronomy as seen from this part of the world.
I had several side chats with the scientists and academicians from the Korean side. They all had one thing on their minds. Well, one thing after cigars and cigarettes. They wanted Western scientific journals. They were actually trying to bribe me to get those copies, any age, any subject; of Science, AAPG Explorer, and SEPM Proceedings, anything of Western science as it is today. I said they were welcome to a couple of copies of Science and SPE journals I had brought with as an afterthought, for free. With 900 won to the dollar, they needed every won they could get. I wasn’t about to take anything for the free dissemination of knowledge.
However, if they saw it fit to buy me a drink or seven, I wouldn’t object.
In reality, I’d buy those as well.
We made secret pacts to meet at the hotel-casino the night before we left, whenever the fuck that would be. We had a lot of work before us as it stands. It won’t be for a few weeks, I reminded them.
They had no problem. If I could ask the other in the team if they’d do likewise, the appreciation would be palpable.
Great. Now I have to go get my field notebooks and make some more new entries.
Dax cratered around 0100. I elected to stay the night and sleep under the stars as the boat slowly rocked one way and rolled the other. It was quiet, dark as a tomb, and brilliantly lit up by the stellar backbone of the night once the clouds fumbled out. Tomorrow looked as if it were to be bright and sunny if the gentle westerlies had anything to say about the next day’s conditions.
The next day dawned early, bright, and ridiculously sunny as it usually does when the monsoons have departed and it had stopped raining.
“OK.”, I thought, “Time for a hearty breakfast. For someone else. I wonder what’s available here.”
I ventured down to the cold galley and there were several boxes of dry Chinese breakfast cereal, “Shredded Tweet” and the like, some sort of obviously aged bakery, and a case of Taedonggang beer.
“Hmmm”, I mused out loud, “Beer and rice crispies. Breakfast of champions.”
Dax walks in, rubbing his eyes. He sees me drowning my rice cereal in foamy ersatz milk.
“Reminds me of field camp!” I smiled as I chowed on the morning’s offerings.
After our ‘hearty’ breakfast, all the scientific parties gathered in the main stateroom. It was cramped, but the walls were magnetic and we could hang maps, well, charts actually since we’re well offshore now, and plots the day’s course.
Out in the Yellow Sea, we were supposedly over a subsurface, and by dint of being offshore, submarine, dome. Salt dome? Unlikely. Probably more of a shale dome, which isn’t a bad thing when hunting for oil and gas.
Looking at the charts, I ask the locals what our current position was relative to the domal uplift.
After several long moments of silence, I asked again.
“Umm, guys”, I said, “If you’re not going to be forthcoming with something as simple as positional data, then turn this boat 180^0’s and take us back to shore. I am fed up, as are my team, with this tight-holing of the simplest of data when you are the knotheads that asked us here for help. We get paid either way, and I for one wouldn’t mind being paid triple to sit in the hotel’s basement and drink”
After telling the translator to translate that last part literally, I sat back, pulled out a really nasty cigar, and went through all the threatening moves of firing it up in the enclosed cabin.
“You will have to excuse us”, came the reply from one of the elders, “We are not used to dealing with oegugseon [foreigners].”
“Are you used to following orders?” I asked brusquely.
“Of course!” came the near-unanimous reply.
“Great. Then consider this an order: You will relay the appropriate information when asked by any Westerner on this cruise. Consider it as coming from the Supreme Leader of this expedition.” I noted.
Using the term ‘Supreme Leader’ was both a bow to their current bad-hair-cut in charge and my desire to let them know I was serious as a kick to the scrotum about the whole fucking deal.
There were a couple of gasps and some consternatious talk, but eventually, one brave soul got up, walked over to the chart, and pointed to our relative location.
“There”, I added, “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Didn’t hurt in the least, did it?”
There were a few chuckles amongst our national colleagues, so I figured that was at least a little progress.
“OK, then”, I continued, “Volna? Ack? You’re up to bat.”
I turned the proceedings over to the geophysicists. They would devise the configuration of the towed array, our speed, direction, charge size, which was based on depth, and all the other geophysical flips and twists one has to do in order to acquire the best data.
This shit doesn’t come cheap. The Mesozoic-Paleozoic marine residual basin in the South Yellow Sea where these domes live is a potentially significant deep potential hydrocarbon reservoir. However, the imaging of the deep prospecting target is quite challenging due to the specific seismic-geological conditions. In the Central and Wunansha Uplifts, the penetration of the seismic wavefield is limited by the shallow high-velocity layers (HVLs) and the weak reflections in the deep carbonate rocks. With the conventional marine seismic acquisition technique, the deep weak reflection is difficult to image and identify. We confirm through numerical simulation that the combination of multi-level impulse source (i.e., explosive) array and extended cable used in the seismic acquisition is crucial for improving the imaging quality.
With that, we’re going to be recording a minimum of four stacks, with a receiver interval of 25 meters. The array will have a shot interval of 50 meters, with a 25 meter near offset, and a 2500 meter far offset. We will attempt to record 180 channels, off-end, with a sampling period of 0.5 seconds, and a record length of 5 seconds. We’ll sail the same course 4 times to verify previous records and attempt to add ‘fold’, i.e., extra data from the same point, to the overall records.
That’s the plan, at least.
Loads of preparation, logistics, and execution.
After a half an hour or so, both Volna and Ack are finished with the national scientists.
They set down their notebooks, pens, notes, and pointers; walk out of the meeting room and directly over to the galley.
“Hungry, fellas?” I inquire.
“Rock?”, Ack asks, “You have explosives here, right? Sink us. Just fucking sink us right now.” As he pours himself and Volna a stiff shot of real vodka.
“Uh, oh. Problems in Dreamland?” I ask, utilizing the derogatory name for the geophysical domain of exploration data.
“Un-be-fucking-believable.”, Volna adds.
“Your colloquial American is coming along well, Volna.” I snickered a bit.
“I learn from you”, he spat, “Cannot believe this. They don’t record while underway. They tow single array and stop. Then drop dynamite over side. They record. Then they do it again. Claim this gives them good fold. This is bullshit. You said devise program. HA! Take us to shore and let me teach them the fucking basics of geophysical acquisition. Then in a few years, we come back and do it right.”
“Oh, fuck”, I reply, wincing, “That bad?”
“Oh, no”, Ack continues, “It’s worse.” As he down 100 milliliters of booze in one draught and pours another for Volna and is own self, “No on-board demultiplexing. No on-board pre-processing. No-onboard QA/QC. No on-board anything. It’s fucking hopeless. Sink us, I’d rather take my chances with the sharks.”
“They can’t do all that stuff or they won’t do all that stuff,” I asked, expecting the worst.
“Oh, it might be possible, with this museum-grade crap they call a computer they have on-board. It’s just time-consuming, tricky, and will need constant attention. But with this raft of sad-sacks, flub-a-dubs and third rate hobbyists?” Ack and Volna agree as one.
“Consider it job security”, I replied, “How about this? One test loop and we use that data to do what’s necessary; just once. Then we can say we’ve shown them the way. After that, I’ll leave it up to the National scientists.”
“Good thing we have 2 full days, Rock”, Volna said, “Because we do a single AC (acquisition) run, it’ll take the rest of the time to show these buggers how it’s done.”
“Ack? You agree?” I asked.
Ack agreed, in spades.
“OK, gentlemen”, I said, “Let’s make it so. About time, too. I haven’t blown anything up in a couple of weeks. I’m getting antsy. Let’s go tell them the good news.”
“NO! WE REFUSE!” was the cheery response from the nationals when Ack, Volna, and I laid out the rather lengthy program for the next couple of days.
“OK. Someone tell the Captain to head for home. We’re done here.” I calmly told our handlers and the translators.
Panic in Pyongyang.
Immediately, there is this hue and cry about how this was not supposed to be how this trip was going to work. This was to be an acquisition trip only. This was to be a one-off to show Best Korea geophysical prowess. This was supposed to be data gathering trip on the Western scientists…
Oops.
That last one was a bit of a mistake.
I turn to one of the translators and ask them to re-translate that last part, just in case I was hearing imaginary things.
“Oh, yes”, he replied, “He said they were here to gather data on the Western Scientists as well as offshore data.”
“Is that a fact?” I reacted. “Please tell them I need to see all my team members on the fantail immediately if you would. Sorry, translators and nationals not included in this little meeting.”
We reconvene on the fantail a few minutes later. I walk in on this little conclave with cigar and drink in hand.
“OK, gents”, I say, puffing a huge blue cloud, swigging a tot, “Here’s what I think we, as responsible international scientists, should do in this regrettable situation. We were asked to come here, with provisions that we would not be under cynosure, observation, or surveillance. Given ‘Open and Free Access’, no questions asked. We were to be treated as “esteemed guests”. This is obviously a load of dingo’s kidneys. I think we need to get as creative as possible and do whatever we can to provide as much deliberate misinformation to these characters to annoy, amaze, or disgust them as much as possible. Comments?”
There’s a general buzz, but no real dissention. After a few moment's discussion, Dax suggests we get a load of XXXXL condoms, and leave them around packaged as “Texas Medium”.
“That’s the spirit”, I reply. “Anyone one else up for a little Psychological Operations on our not-so-clever-nor-truthful hosts?”
We all agree that we will, in our own little way, start a campaign of deliberate misinformation, misdirection, and general petty bullshit nastiness for our hosts to discover and by which be dismayed.
Everyone’s in agreement. This trip has been a rotund bale of jeers from the get-go.
Promises made, promises broken. Itineraries approved then inexplicably disapproved. We make requests, they accede; and then nothing ever happens. It’s most frustrating.
We’re tolerating a lot of horse, bull, cow, and assorted other farmyard excrements; all in the name of international harmony and scientific goodwill. This has been an outgoing one-way street for too long. We’re mad as hell and we’re not going to take it anymore.
“Hellfire and Dalmatians!” I growl, growing angrier every minute I think about the subject, “We need to take the high, low, and middle ground on this offensive. Nothing too overt or obvious; however we need to jank these bastards good. But they can’t realize they’re being janked…!”
Ack cuts in.
“The esteemed Dr. Rock is right. Psychotic...but absolutely right. We got to take these bastards. We could fight them with conventional weapons. That could take years...cost millions of lives. In this case... I think we have to go all out. I think this situation absolutely requires...a really futile and stupid gesture... be done on somebody's part.”
There’s a general buzz among the assembled.
“And we're just the guys to do it.”
Shouts and catcalls of deep agreement.
“Operation ‘Confound-a-Korean’” is now enacted.
“About fucking time!”
“Let’s do it!”
“Dissen gonna be bery messy! Me no watchin!”
“OK, I think, “Who’s the prequel-series wiseass?”
“OK, gentlemen”, I continue, “We continue with our scientific duties. No fucking around there. But, when it comes to…interpretation…opinion…or personal viewpoint; let’s go full impede. Dazzle them with brilliance or baffle them with bullshit.”
We all agree and after a couple of quick rounds of old thought provoker, we realize this trip has just taken a hard left into Wackyland. We will have to let our comrades onshore know of this, but that can wait until we return. Right now, we all have jobs to do. Real jobs, serious jobs, covert and sneaky jobs…
So, it’s back to the recording shack as we lay out the plans for the next couple of days.
Volna begins: “OK, listen up you primitive screwheads. We’re going to assemble and layout a recording array that’s called a Meisenheimer Triplet. You do know what a simple Meisenheimer Triplet is, don’t you?”
There’s a slight murmur from our national friends, but in the end, they all plead ignorance.
“Right. Thought so. A Meisenheimer Triplet is a central towed array flanked by two shorter, subparallel flanking sub-frammitz arrays. We will assemble this array on-board, even though it’s probably going to take every ounce of silver solder and electrician’s tape you’ve got. The amount of data received is orders of magnitude greater than any single Sheriff-sonde array, like the ones you been using.”
Suddenly, there are nods and murmurs of agreement.
“Right”, Volna smiles sinisterly to me, “With that, we’ll need to devise an explosive package, well, actually, a series of explosive packages based on the harmonia of the pre-bottom fore-sets, water depth, tow vehicle velocity, water column density, and decomposition coefficients of the said water column. Oh, yeah. Fish too.”
Volna is really getting into the spirit of the affair.
“Who is your explosives engineer?” Ack asks, “He’s going to have to do some serious number-crunching with all the pre-blast data we’ll need to supply. “
One quick translation and there’s nothing but long faces and querulous looks from our national crowd.
“We have no explosives engineer”, the head Best Korean geophysicist laments. “Explosives are very, very heavily regulated by the government. That’s why we have several Government Observers on board. They handle the explosives.”
“Oh?” Ack remarks, “Are they fully up to speed on the Barnard-Reichmann equations for hydro-displacement of serial charges? Which subset of the marine rarefication coefficients do they employ?”
“Ummm, don’t know.” was the answer.
“Don’t know? Well”, Volna continues, “Then, they must be pretty good with the Langefors-Kihlström formulae, right?”
“No. Not as such.” Came the response.
“I see”, Ack sighs, “Well, then, I guess they must utilize the Il’yushin algorithms then. OK, it’s a bit old school, but they should still work.”
“Ah. Well. No.” was the rejoinder they offered.
“Well, then what the fuck do they use?” Volna explodes, “A modified Ambraseys-Hendorn model? Ghosh-Damen 1? Ghosh-Damen 2? Indian Fargin Standard? Prejaculated Rai-Singh protocols, fer’ chrissake? Which?”
Nothing but shaking heads and wringing hands.
“They take a case of dynamite, wire it up, and throw it overboard with a long fuse.” Was the eventual answer. “That’s why we stop to record.”
Long, exasperated sigh later, “Jesus Q. Tapdancing Christ on a crème cracker. No wonder you never get anything done.” Volna continues, “You characters are in luck. You just happen to be so lucky to have an internationally-renowned Master Blaster right here on board ship today.”
Volna turns the crowd over to me, “Doctor? Do your damnedest. And good luck.”
“Thanks, Volna”, I say, cigar in one hand, stalwart drink in the other, “OK, guys. Here’s the deal. When it comes to explosives and explosive design, I’m the hookin’ bull. No one has authority over me. Not the Captain. Not the boson’s mate. Not the Captain’s Consort even. Nor the guys in the cheap shiny suits. What I say, goes. No exceptions. No hesitation. We green or are we going back to shore?”
“Cholog?” they ask.
“Yes. ‘Cholog’. Green. Are we understanding one another? Are we all in agreement? Are you fuckin’ diggin’ me, Beaumont?”
There’s some quick back and forth in Korean, a lot of seeming bad noise. Even the shiny suit squad and Coasties join in the fun.
“Grudgingly, we agree. Green as you say, Doctor Rock. You are the one in charge.” Came the head national’s reply.
“Splendid. I’m in charge of the charges.” I chuckle, puffing an enormous cloud of expensive Oscuro smoke, “Volna, Ack; please get me the required parameters. I’ll be in the ordnance locker to see what we’re working with here. C’mon fellas, chop-chop!”
Volna and Ack take their select set of geophysical wishers and wannabes while I get the rest of the locals, the shiny suit squad in reserve, but in tow.
I head off to the ordinance locker.
Dax runs behind “Hey! Wait for me.”
“We have to”, I snigger a reply, “We’re going to need a drinks runner.”
“Marvelous…” was the one-word response.
We get to the locked ordinance locker. It’s one of the few original structures remaining on the ship. The boat was torn down almost to the waterline and re-built for seismic acquisition, but they had enough brains to realize that the source of the seismic signals was usually explosive in nature. Dinoseis and Mini-Sossie were closed books to them.
Therefore, the locker remained intact, however grudgingly.
“Whew! And what a locker.” I whewed. “And what a lock. OK, who’s got the keys?”
There are general hemming and hawing and no one seems to know where the keys for the ordinance locker are kept.
“Well, gents”, I say, pointedly, “I would suggest that one or more of you toddle off and fucking find the goddamn keys or this will turn out to be a very short and unproductive trip, indeed.”
A while later, a bit longer than I personally care for, the boat’s Captain wanders up, all a-scowl and generally pissed-off looking.
“Who here needs the key to the explosives locker?” He asks in his Captainly, no-nonsense manner.
There’s more muttering and murmuring, but eventually, all fingers point toward me.
The Captain looks at me.
“Hello.”
He’s giving me the once over with a LASER stink eye. I don’t know which irritated him the most; the lit cigar, the drink, the Stetson, Hawaiian shirt, cargo shorts, Scottish knee socks or field boots.
“And who the hell are you”? He asks, oh, so wrongly, through an interpreter.
I stand up, fully puffed to full mammalian threat posture and say in a loud steady voice;
“I’m THE Doctor Rocknocker, the MOTHERFUCKING PRO FROM DOVER!, that’s who.”
Since I had a good 6 inches and way too many kilos on him; my loud, American and very un-oriental answer took him completely by surprise.
His eyes got as big as dinner plates and he shakily held out the ring of keys for the explosives locker.
“Why thank you very much”, I said, bowing in his direction ever so slightly. Wasn’t his fault he wasn’t totally clued in on all the recent goings-on aboard his vessel.
I toss the keys to Dax, “Here, earn your keep.” I snickered.
Dax deftly fields the keys, chuckles back, and begins the game of ‘which key for which lock’?
I thank the Captain and explain that I’m the de facto leader of this special education class, and make some pointed, mild epitaphs about landlubbers, national scientists, and the cargo of the totally clueless on board.
He sees I’m not a total boor and relaxes some. We haven’t really had a real introduction, so I grab a translator and engage the Captain in a short, though insightful conversation.
Cigars were exchanged. Handshakes were as well.
Seems he’s just as aggravated by these know-it-alls who really know-fuck-all. We see eye to eye and part friends once Dax finally figures out the combination to the weapons locker.
“Holy fuck!” I exclaim, “Now that’s a door.” I say looking at the slowly-opening covering of the weapon’s portico. Fully five solid inches of solid steel. Triple reinforced hinges. Deadman's latches. Bringles-jams and solid, non-decabulated cast-steel cross-members.
Just the thing to contain an errant blast and send all that excess energy skyward instead of into the bowels of the boat.
OK, bonus points for that design feature.
I look inside, but it’s dark and fragrant as the inside of an irritated oyster in the bottom of the Tonga-Kermadec Trench.
Dax fumbles around and finds the light switch.

FLIP

“Hmmm.” I hmmed. “Well, we’re all set for dynamite, I see.”
Case after case after case of leaking, cheap-ass Chinese knock-off sort-of Du Pont-style 50% dynamite. Box after box of Pseudo-Dyno-Nobel blasting caps. Delaminating, unwinding spools after spool of “PrimUcord”. Sticky “Korea” brand silk-woven coated Demolition Wire.
“Gads.” I sigh. “What a nightmare. Either this stuff goes off when you give it a dirty look or it doesn’t go off at all.”
Dax looks to me, “So, the trip’s a bust. Is that what you’re saying?”
“If we don’t find something that’ll work, probably,” I reply. “This shit’s worthless.”
We continue to search after I shoo everyone but Dax out of the locker. It’s damp and musty in here, smelling disconcertingly of kerosene, gherkins, and old sardines. That’s one sure sign of dynamite going bad. I warn Dax to be extra careful, that this stuff hasn’t had the best of handling. We could be in for an unexpected surprise.
So, we redouble our efforts and are much more circumspect.
Knock-off this and fake-ass that.
All Chinese in origin. It might have worked one day; but after sitting in here, unattended, unturned, and uncared for? I’m ready to both literally and figuratively pull the plug on this whole fiasco.
Dax is all smiles.
“Doctor?” Dax asks, “What is it that would make you happy?”
“A nice fishing boat, a huge never-emptying bank account, endless cigars, and a comfy chair back in the north of Baja Canada in a tavern on a good fishing lake,” I replied.
“Well”, Dax smiles, “I can’t do that, but how about this?” as he opens a cleverly hidden door.
I look in, let my eyes adjust to the low-light scenario to see no lakes, no huge bank accounts, nor fishing boats; but what I do see makes me smile wide.
It’s a sub-locker full of familiar Made-in-the-USA, True Blue, American-manufacture cyclo-trimethylene-tri-nitramine, or Good Ol’ C-4 explosive. Block after lovely hexahedral block of the stuff.
“Dax”, I say, “Take a gold star out of petty cash. You’ve just saved the mission.”
“I’ll settle for a tall vodka and one of your cigars”, Dax smiles.
“Later”, I say, “We now have a little job which to attend.”
With C-4, designing the impulse charges is seriously a walk in the park. They’re already waterproof, so all I need is water depth and the number of seconds to which they want to record data. I can bundle a series of blocks of the stuff, charge them with a couple-three or four, just in case, blasting caps, and connect them with stout lengths of demolition wire. These will be dragged, with a ‘Herring Dodger’, to control depth, behind the boat as we are underway.
It’s a novel idea, I know. One that’s only been in use in the west for about 60 years.
We’ll drag a daisy chain of C-4 packets. One after another, individual charges in the packets will detonate milliseconds apart. I can bundle the packets so that we can run a charge string of up to 12 discrete packets which will attenuate the amplification of the arrhythmic flux, I tell one of my Korean onlookers.
With this set-up, we can record data for literally sea-miles.
First, we will moosh the C-4 into a flattened, semi-hydrodynamically stable pancake or airfoil, OK, hydrofoil, shape; wire three or five of them together, charge them, then repeat.
Depending on what parameters Volna and Ack supply, the chain will just be a number of similar packets, trailing one after the other, detonating from back to front; down below the hydrophones, but well above the seafloor.
We know that the hydrophones will be at or very near the surface, but we need to know, explicitly, the basal bathymetry of the area we're about to shoot. Wouldn’t do anyone any good if we drove over a seafloor hump and dragged the C-4 over it to have it detonate prematurely.
Or not at all.
So, we need to plot our course and sail it today while we get the hydrophone arrays built and we image the seafloor where we’re going to do some blasting. After that, it’ll probably be an all-nighter to create the blasting strings so we can spend the next day recording, and then head for home as we’re nearly out of victuals and potables.
At least, that’s the plan.
I convene a quick meeting and we plot a course on the latest charts. 30 kilometers of recording.
Shit, that’s going to be a lot of explosives. Doable, but a pain.
Remembering the quality of the recording equipment, I suggest we do a test run in the morning of just 5 kilometers. If that works, and we can up it in increments.
Dax, Sagong the head Korean geophysicist, and I go to visit the Captain.
We visit the Captain and lay out our plans. He has no objections, as were in Best Korean waters and there are no obstacles out here like sunken wrecks, kelp forests, American aircraft carriers, or other impediments.
With that, we tell him to align the ship and let us know when he can begin doing the recon sortie.
He says that he can do that immediately, and before we're out of the pilothouse, we’re recording bathymetric, i.e., depth, data. The technology’s not much different, nor advanced, than a standard Lake Winnebago fish finder, so that’s one disaster sorted.
We are sailing along in a series of parallel straight lines, which when the data are played back and deconvoluted, will give us a good idea of the bathymetry which we’ve been motoring over. It’ll basically give us both a depth map and a surface, ok, bottom, map of the seafloor above which we’re sailing. A little basic submarine hyperbolic quantum trigonometry and well, we have the data we need to plug into the various equations to see what we’ll require when we want to record seismic data to 5000 milliseconds.
With that, there’s not much else to do until we have the survey map. I dragoon Dax and Cliff into helping me inventory the explosives bunker.
“The hell with the dynamite, PrimUcord, and other Oriental-Knockoff Horseshit”, I instruct my helpers, “Let’s just count up the C-4, and see what our tally is. Oh, yeah, give me a tally of the blasting caps. Gotta use those ratty bastards, they’re the only actuators here I sort of, kind of, trust.”
With Dax, myself, and Cliff, we’re done in less than an hour. I decide that I’ll be the keeper of the keys and take them back to the Captain my own self. Rules of engagements, chain of command and all that hogwash.
I hand the keys over to the Captain and instruct the co-pilot to make an entry in the logbook that I returned the key to the Captain, this date, this time.
“By the book. It’s not just a good idea, it’s the law.” I muse.
To be continued…

Continuing…
“Well, if that doesn’t throw the damper on things.” Dax remarks on our trip back down to the ground floor.
“Yeah. How rude. Up and deceasing your own self without bothering to tell anyone beforehand.” I noted.
“This is going to be a bloody balls-up. Trust me. This is going to be inordinately messy. A bog-standard botch job. A total dog’s dinner, just wait and see.” Cliffs adds.
“First, we have to contact IUPGS. Then what? Does Bulgaria have a consulate or embassy here? I wouldn’t think so…Then what?” I grieved. For once, I was rather low; both emotionally and on ideas.
“Let’s go back to the conference room and let everyone know. We’ll pull a brain session together. We should be able to sort out what needs to be done. The hotel already knows, so the state security forces also do as well. Be prepared for lengthy interrogation sessions, Gentlemen”, Cliff advised.
Back in the conference room, we relayed the sad information. All were taken aback and there were general notes of commiseration. However, since no one knew Iskren too well personally, it was more detached professionalism rather than overt weeping and wailing.
“Let us toast to our fallen comrade!” was accepted as both entirely appropriate and a damn good idea.
I got on the conference room phone and ordered up some more sandwiches, mixers, and bottles of booze. The moment was obviously structured that way, I reasoned.
We made our toasts to our fallen comrade and we had half a chalkboard filled with suggestions of what to do next.
The main consensus was: “Nothing.”
As in there was not much we could do. We were foreign nationals in a strangely foreign land. Our comrade was the sole member of his country, that is, Bulgaria, and the closest geographically we had aboard was Dr. Academician Ivan. No one wanted to loose Ivan on the DPRK security forces and have to deal with all that international fallout.
After some number of hours, after I suggested we all remain in the conference room as we’d (A.) be together, as in unity there is strength, (2.) we’d have each other’s backs when and if it came to interrogations, and, (iii.) this is where the free booze was.
Then there was a polite knock on the door.
I, as the den mother of this special education class, slowly got up and answered the knock.
It was a cadre of DPRK internal security forces, kitted out in their spiffy, tailor-made, and actually, quite smart-looking uniforms. Shoes and buttons polished to mirror-finishes, pants creases that could cut flesh, and enough polished brass to construct a spittoon.
“Hello? Yes?” I said through the semi-opened door.
“May we please come in? If the time is convenient.”, the head military type, very treacly asked.
“Of course”, I replied, “Please, do come in.”
Four of them entered as one. They did a quick-step, tight-march formation together and went to the head of the conference table.
“Good day, gentlemen. I am Colonel Hwangbo Dong-Hyeon of Internal State Security. First, we must offer condolences on the loss of your comrade. It must have come as a shock.” He intones.
There are mutters of “Thanks.” and “Damn right it was.”
“I have been entrusted to update you on the, ah, ‘situation’. First, Dr. Iskren Dragomirov Dinev, recently deceased, has been examined by the best medical practitioners in the country. He was obviously a foreign national and state guest, and we do not wish this to be a cause of suspicion or mistrust, especially during this auspicious Festival season.” He asserted.
We listened with rapt attention.
“I am authorized to tell you that it does not appear that the late Dr. Dinev expired of any untoward circumstances; or ‘foul play’, I believe is the western term. It has been ascertained that he expired due to wholly natural causes; namely massive myocardial infarction. Given his age, apparent health, and, ah, mass, this does seem a most reasonable explanation. This has been verified by no less than three DPRK medical professionals; one of which is the Emeritus teaching professor of Cardiology at Pyongyang Medical University. Again, you have our deepest condolences on the loss of your comrade.” He continued.
“I do remember Iskren complaining of gas pains the other night at the bar,” Joon agreed. “Thought nothing of it, given the change in all our diets.”
Colonel Hwangbo studied Joon like an entomologist examining a particularly fascinating new species of beetle.
“Which has been fine! Just rather rich compared to our usual food!” Joon hastily added.
Satisfied that Joon wasn’t making light of the ‘fine’ North Korean cuisine, Colonel Hwangbo continued, “As such, the Bulgarian Embassy here in Pyongyang has been contacted and apprised of the situation. They have taken over the case, as well as recovered the mortal remains and possessions of Dr. Dinev; all of which were conserved and authenticated by his Bulgarian national counterparts.”
“Ah, that’s good”, I said, “I’m pleased that there actually is a Bulgarian embassy here.”
“Ah. So.”, Col. Hwangbo continued, “Yes. They have already taken possession of Dr. Dinev’s mortal remains and possessions as I had noted, and will handle their repatriation to his country and family. As you can see, we have acted in the best of faith and with the utmost respect for your lately departed. Again, our condolences.”
There were some “Harrumphs”, and “Yeah, rights”, from the crowd, but since I was the team leader, it fell to me to handle this situation from here on out.
“Yes, indeed”, I replied, “We see that and do so deeply appreciate your efficiency and your keeping open the lines of communication. We have absolutely no room to complain. You, your team, your country, and your services have acted to the highest degree of professionalism and decorum. Let me extend, for the team, our heartiest appreciations in this most unfortunate matter.”
That seemed to please the Korean security forces. So much so they didn’t see the rolling eyes and smirks of grudging compliance from the crowd. I gave the evil-eye to several who were twittering quietly at my delivery of a load of over-the-top twaddle in the name of international goodwill.
“Thank you, Doctor…? Doctor…?”, he asked.
“Doctor Rocknocker.” I replied, “It’s spelled just as it sounds,”, I chuckled a knowing chuckle.
Colonel Hwangbo cracked a small smile for the first time since we met.
“As long as our orders of business are concluded, “ I inquired, “Might we offer you and your men a drink or sandwich or…”
“Cigar?” he suddenly brightened.
I smiled the sly, smirking smile of one of those used to the old duplicitous game of international diplomacy.
“Why”, I replied smilingly, “Of course.”
Col Hwangbo gratefully accepted a brace of fine Oscuro cigars. Probably more tobacco he’s seen in one place at one time since the last he rousted a snozzeled Western journalist or hammered European tourist with an overage of custom’s tobacco allowances.
His team eschewed cigars, but gladly accepted a pack each of pastel-colored Sobranie cocktail cigarettes.
It still slays me to see these battle-hardened, armed-to-the-teeth, unsmiling servants of the great state of Best Korea mincing about the courtyard smoking avocado, baby-blue, and peach-colored pastel cigarettes.
The Colonel and his team left after a couple of quick smokes, sandwiches, and surreptitious beers. I even enticed the Colonel into a couple of convivial vodka toasts when his team was otherwise occupied.
“Well, gang”, I said, closing the door, “Looks like that situation has been handled, most appropriately at that. We’ll miss ol’ Iskren, but at least he went fast and hopefully painlessly.”
I knew that last one was but a load of old dingo’s kidneys as I’ve had run-ins with cardiac disorders in the past and they are anything but painless. In any case, that was, as I noted, in the past. What was done is done. It was as it was. It is as it is.
“So, gentlemen”, I say, “Let us get back to work. Reality calls. Now, we’ve given you landlubbers the lowdown on our seismic pleasure cruise. Now we’d like to hear what you who had stayed onshore have come up with.”
Erlan, Graco, and Viv fill us in on the regional geology of Best Korea and lay out a plan to examine the sedimentary piles closest to the few paved roads in the north and east of the country.
We’ll be traveling by bus, as my request for four or five off-road vehicles was denied due to timing and lack of availability.
Yeah. Right. What a massive pile of bovine biogenic colluvium. A country with a military as huge as Best Korea’s and they can’t spare a few jeeps or Hummer reproductions?
Truth be told, they still don’t trust us and don’t want to let us out of their sight.
However, we did manage to snag some internal publications from the Central Geological Survey of Mineral Resources, which we figured as a major coup. Never before were Westerners allowed to even know of the existence of these materials, much less be able to research (read: slyly copy) them.
That ‘personal shaver’ I carried was actually a sneaky personal copier, a Vupoint ST470 Magic Wand Portable Scanner with all the external stickers peeled off, and any serial numbers abraded away.
Hey, they photograph us from every angle on the sly, listen in on our conversations, record our phone calls…hell, turnabout isn’t just fair play, it’s almost expected.
It’d be rude to refuse to play along.
Anyways, we learned that The Korean Peninsula (KP) occupies a junction area of three large tectonic domains that are the Paleo-Central Asian Orogenic Belt, Paleo-Tethyan Orogenic Belt, and the Western Pacific Orogenic Belt.
Tectono-fascinating.
To summarize:

1. The Archean Rangrim massif is divided into the Rangrim and Kwanmo submassifs, high-grade region and greenstone belt, respectively.
   
2. Early Paleoproterozoic rocks underwent metamorphism up to granulite facies, which may be correlated to the Jiao-Liao-Ji mobile belt in the North China Craton (NCC).
   
3. Proterozoic rift sequences in North Korea are similar to those in the NCC with rare late Paleoproterozoic strata and more Neoproterozoic strata.
   
4. Mesozoic igneous rocks are extensively distributed in the KP.
   
5. The main Paleozoic basin, the Phyongnam basin in NK, have a similar Paleozoic tectono-stratigraphy to the NCC.
   

Of most interest is item #5. The Phyongnam basin is the only sedimentary and depositional basin of mention in the north of the Korean peninsula; and therefore the center of our attention as it pertains to oil and gas.
The potential source rocks, and possible reservoirs, include the Paleozoic Late Ordovician Miru Series was identified as the Koksan Series and subsequently renamed. The 170-meter thick limestone and siltstone centered around the P'yongnam Basin have extensive crinoid, coral, and gastropod fossils. Paleogeography researchers have suggested that corals formed in the Miru Sea-a branch of the South Yangtze Sea. At the base of the Taedong Synthem is the P'yong'an Supergroup, which lies disconformably atop older Paleozoic rocks.
In the Pyongyang Coalfield it is divided into the 650-meter sandstone, shale, and conglomerate of the Nogam Formation, the 500-meter Kobangsan Formation, 350-meter coal-bearing Sadong Formation and 250-meter chert-bearing Hongjom Formation, all typically assigned to an Upper Permian shallow marine environment.
In the Mesozoic, north of Pyongyang, Precambrian basement rocks are unconformably overlain by a Jurassic limestone conglomerate ascending to layers of siltstone and mudstone. The Upper Jurassic Shinuiju Formation northwest of Shinuiju has sandstone, conglomerate, and mudstone up to two kilometers thick.
Offshore drilling in the West Korea Bay Basin indicates these rocks are the onshore extension of offshore units. It is subdivided into fluvial rocks and Upper Jurassic black shale, limestone, conglomerate and sandstone formed in a lake environment.
There are very few Cenozoic sediments are known in North Korea, likely as a result of erosion due to uplift of the peninsula. Submarine normal faults along the eastern coastline may have driven crustal tilting. The 350-meter thick Bongsan Coalfield in Hwanghae Province on the west coast preserves and coal-bearing layers dating to the Eocene.
Further to the north, in the West Korea Bay Basin Eocene and Oligocene sedimentary rocks up to three kilometers thick unconformably overlie Mesozoic rocks, formed in lakes and coal swamps during the Paleogene.
What this meant is that we’d need to travel mostly northeast and/or southwest. This was fortuitous as the paved roads in the country were created in structural valleys formed by the primary fault trends in the country. The main trans-tensional set trended NE:SW and the conjugate set trends approximately 90⁰ to the main set at NW:SE.
The topography was heavily dissected by drainages and the terrain consists mostly of hills and mountains separated by deep, narrow valleys. The coastal plains are wide in the west and discontinuous in the east.
The plan was to take the bus north to Sunchon, then hang a right off towards Unsan and Yongha. There were outcrops between the last two towns and they appear to be upper Paleozoic to Lower Mesozoic clastics. Ideal oil and gas hunting grounds.
From there, we’d head north-northeast towards Yangwon. There appeared to be some fair to excellent outcrops of rocks that are as of yet, unidentified as to age. From there, we’d continue to follow the outcrop belts either to their termination at the basin’s edges or at international borders with China or Russia.
But, once we hit the field, time goes into relative warp. Put a bunch of geologists out on some relatively virgin outcrops and just stand back as they spend hour after hour after hour first looking for evidence of the formation’s provenance, it’s age and field relations. Then begin the heartfelt, stalwart, and sometimes vicious, arguments between all concerned about each and every one of those salient points.
We were all looking forward to it and wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s our intellectual and scientific equivalent of meat and potatoes.
We all agreed on a way forward and generated a document to deliver to those in charge of our logistics on this trip. There would be a total of 11 Western geoscientists, four guides, perhaps a couple of national geologists or geophysicists, and whatever cadre the shiny suit squad wanted to include.
There would also be a driver, his relief, and a couple of extra translators. Good thing it was a large bus, as it’s going to be a huge crew.
We needed to allow our handlers a full day to arrange room and board for us while in the field, as we had to be bivouacked somewhere outside our fine hotel. It needed to be secure, pass sanctuary muster, and be ‘controllable’, referring to both Western scientists and nosy locals.
One thing we found odd was the lack of concern for long-term logistics, not to mention the end of our self-ordained indentured servitude. When this trip and all the Western geoscientists were contacted, we were all assured of an opportunity to meet with the Supreme Leader, Kim Jong-Un once our trip was completed.
We were to personally deliver one hell of an international photo-op. A ‘hey look how progressive we are’ meeting and our findings in this wonderful and progressive country.
But lately, with what we thought was the fallout of the Festival washing out all the usual propaganda, we’ve heard nothing about Herr Comrade Leader Supremo, K1J1-Un. Nor had we heard one iota about our intended final meeting with him before we left for China.
Since there are “absolutely no” COVID-19 cases in Best Korea, it seemed, well, odd that Beijing was our only possible current exit port of call, and onward to our individual homes.
There were all flavors of rumors flying all throughout the basement bars and casinos of the hotel. One claimed that Kim was now receiving treatment at a villa in the Mount Myohyang resort north of the capital Pyongyang after cardiovascular surgery. That he was near death and that his sister, Kim Yo Jong, is already warming up in the North Korean political bullpen if her brother kacks it.
Others said Kim is believed to be staying at an unspecified location outside of Pyongyang, with some close confidants. It was said that Kim appeared to be normally engaged with state affairs and there has not been any unusual movement or emergency reaction from North Korea's governing party, military, or cabinet.
There was also one other that tries to cover up any conspiracy rumors by shouting over a raspy bullhorn: "Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!”, “Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!"; but most ignored that little crank.
We all thought that rather odd, but of fairly low concern. In the final analysis, it would have little impact on our studies and their outcome. In other words, it wouldn’t affect our pay one way or the other. We all felt like we’ve given more than what was called for on missions such as this.
And we still haven’t a clue as to when this will all come to an end.
However, we all agreed to the consultation, it would have been fun to meet with him and have our pictures taken with the Supreme Leader. Dr. Academician Ivan Ivanovich Khimik. was especially cheesed that he might miss the opportunity to make finger-vee bunny ears behind the Supreme Commander of the Armed Forces of the DPRK during one of our photo sessions.
We all agree if we do somehow find ourselves in the same room with Ivan and Kim Jong-Un, we’ll form a human shield around the latter. We want to get back home; as we’ve all heard the rumors of the horrors of ‘political realignment’ camps here in Best Korea.
So the meeting breaks up and I’m left with Dax to take the final inventory. Two loads of sandwiches gone, piles of used napkins, ketchup-y table linens, bacon rinds and chicken bones, drippy ends of ice cream cones, prune pits, peach pits, orange peel, gloppy glumps of cold oatmeal, pizza crusts, and withered greens, soggy beans and tangerines, crusts of black burned buttered toast, gristly bits of beefy roasts…
“The hell with this”, I say, I grab the last nearly full bottle of vodka and hand Dax a bottle of Royal Navy dark Rum.
“Tally’s good”, I say, not really giving two tiny shits at this point. “At least, I think it is. Let’s make like horseshit and hit the trail.”
“I’m headed back to our floor and going to zone out in front of some old, looped BBC for the next few hours with a cold drink and hot cigar.” I proclaim.
“Oh, hell”, Dax says, “I agree. It’s been a weird couple of days. Let’s go.”
And so we do.
On the way, I leave the logistics concerns and itinerary for the upcoming field trips with the front desk clerk. I slip her 1000 won as its Festival! and I had a bulgy pocketful of same. She smiled and quietly said there’s be a surprise waiting for me in my room when I got there.
“Rock, you fucking old hound!”, Dax exclaimed as he punched me lightly on the shoulder. “Taking a dip in the hotel secretarial pool?”
“Dax, you surprise me”, I said in my defense, “I have been, and continue to be, happily married for the last 38 years to the most loving, most intelligent, most well-connected, and most accurate snap-shot with a Glock .380 Automatic I know of.”
“Well, me ol’ mucker”, Dax smiles slyly, “If one has been happily married for 38 years, one must have a little something on the side. Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge, ‘eh, Squire?”
“Oh, nothing like that”, I replied, while waiting the obligatory 30 minutes for the fucking elevator to arrive. “I couldn't break my word to Esme, and not because I don’t believe in a God that will send me to Hell without an electric fan or because it's not the right thing to do. I simply don't want to. A man is only as good as his word; and if he loses that, he loses too much. I couldn’t function without people thinking that I’m square and on the level. My business would crumble to dust. As would my marriage.”
“Yeah, there is that”, Dax agrees, “You say something is going to happen and God damn, it fucking happens. That’s what makes you honest and honestly scary.”
I stare intently at the annunciator that tells me the fucking elevator is stuck on 4 again.
“You’re not mob, are you?” Dax harshly whispers, snickeringly.
I turn to face Dax and smile wistfully.
“Я с уважением отказываюсь отвечать, потому что я искренне верю, что мой ответ может обвинить меня”, I reply quietly.
“What the hell does that mean?” Dax demands.
“I respectfully decline to answer because I honestly believe my answer might tend to incriminate me”, I calmly reply.
“Oh, look. Bloody elevator’s finally here.” I note and stride aboard.
Dax gets caught up in the tsunami of the crowd and is carried bodily inside. It was so remorseless, he almost lost his grip on his bottle of Dark Rum.
Up on ‘our’ floor, I go to key open my room. Dax is just down the hall and looking around to see what special surprise might show up. I was too tired to wait so I just push in, and see all my field clothes fully laundered, pressed, and either folded or hanging.
Someone broke into my room during the day and committed a compound neatness.
“POUND! Pound! POUND!” Hmm, appears to be someone at my door.
“Yes, Dax?” I said.
“You too?” he fumed, “Everything, cleaned to within an inch if its life. They even polished my bloody field boots.”
“Oh, fuck”, I said and ran to find mine re-pristinized.
“FUCK! FUCK! FUCKITYFUCKFUCK!” I swore. They had polished my field boots and removed the fine years-of-work-to-acquire near-subsurface of the leather’s oil layer. They polished the water-proofing and conditioning out of the leather of our boots.
“OK. OK.”, I said, “Minor emergency. Cool out. I have the solution.”
I toss Dax a small can. It was brown, oily, and claimed to be “Neatsfoot oil”. It was the SPF- 500 of field leathers.
“Go ahead and oil them up with that”, I told Dax, “I’ve got another can, so don’t worry. Use what you need, don’t be shy, but if there’s any left, let me know. I’ll combine ours and offer it to anyone else in the team who had their boots steam-cleaned.”
So, a bit later, I’m sitting on my hotel room’s floor, on several sheets of newspaper, rubbing Neatsfoot Oil into my ancient, multinational size 16 EEE Vasque™ Tracker field boots.
Then there’s a knock at the door.
“It’s open. Enter carefully”, I say aloud.
It’s a bell clerk with a room service cart. On the cart are a bucket of ice, a bowl of sliced limes, I think, several gimlet glasses, some Best Korean ‘Air Koryo’ carbonated citrus drink, and a fresh bottle of “Kaesong” vodka.
“Compliments of the front desk”, the bellman says.
I stand up, tip him a few thousand won, and set a new record in mixology; a fresh brace of drinks in less than 7.3 seconds.
I offer the bellman the lighter one and he accepts with a wide smile.
I say “건배” (geonbae) literally means 'empty glass', which is similar to the expression 'bottom's up'. For you see, my Korean’s coming along a treat.
We clink glasses and send those drinks to the places that they’ll do the best.
The bellman smiles offloads the cart onto the table in my room, shakes my hand, and departs.
I finish my boots, my drink, and my cigar. After another drink or seven, I crater early. Dax was right; it had been a long, weird day.
The next day, Festival! is still going strong, but still no word on the whereabouts of El Líder Supremo. I find that odd, only slightly interesting, and since it will impact the day’s events zero, I file it away for maybe later use.
I go to the hotel pool around 0530 and there’s no one there. I’m able to get in a good 100 laps, unburdened with either small talk or by yammering kids blocking my lanes. I go early as I don’t wear gloves in the water, obviously. Statistically, there is less chance there will be others, adults and kids included, that would get freaked out by my gnarly left hand. I really don’t feel like recounting the old Russian Rig Accident story again.
After a brisk shower and double shower-scotch back in my room, I dress casually and wander down to the casino and bar level. It’s essentially breakfast time, but with the revelers not giving two hoots to AM vs. PM, it’s surprisingly busy. I find a perch up on Mahogany Ridge and order a classical breakfast cocktail of one liter of beer and 100 milliliters of chilled vodka.
I see Mr. Ho is manning the bar. I ask him to ring the massage parlor down the hall and see if Ms. Nang Bo-Hee is free sometime this morning.
He does and reports that she has an open hour and a half at 0900. Would I like it or any portion of that time?
“I’ll take the lot”, I said. “Tell them I’ll be there spot on 0900.”
“That’s great.”, Mr. Ho says, hanging up the phone, “Doctor Rock, they tell me that with the Festival discount and you taking the full 90 minutes, they can cut you a very special deal.”
“I’ll bet”, I replied, “Like what?”
“Oh, I cannot say for they did not tell me”, he smiled, “They will tell you when you arrive.”
“Marvelous”, I exhaled tiredly. “Another, Mr. Ho; make it a double, if you would please.”
The massage center here is run by a group not employed directly by the hotel. It’s a separate entity altogether. They run specials and have different discount programs that are not only not controlled nor advertised by the hotel, but they’re also not in any way beholden to the hotel, except for rent, I suppose and run it like their own little fiefdom.
Ms. Nang, my preferred masseuse, is a little, tiny Korean lassie about 5 feet tall and probably all of 90 pounds soaking wet. However, she is amazingly well trained and could probably put me in the hospital for a lengthy visit with her wiles and methods of flesh, bone, and muscle manipulation.
She offers a whole suite of different massage genres: Swedish, hot stone, aromatherapy, deep tissue, sport, trigger point, reflexology, shiatsu, Thai, and Rolfing.
Oh, fuck. I know Rolfing. I tried that nonsense back in grad school with an old east Indian lady that could have linebackered for the Minnesota Vikings. That shit fucking hurt. Today, it’d incapacitate me permanently. That’s a definite no-go.
I decide that it’s going to be the Hot Stone-treatment today. A geological-manipulation inquiry.
At 0900 I’m the only client at the massage ‘store’. It’s early, day two of the festival, and people are either sleeping off the previous night’s festivities or too wobbly to even think of partaking in a massage.
I’ve had several major back surgeries over the years, including one bilateral laminectomy about seven years ago that removed 7.5 kilos of overgrown bone and muscle from my lumbar region, so I’ve been very cautious about soliciting a massage. The masseuse has to know that area is strictly verboten and will do everything to avoid annoying that particular piece of bodily real-estate.
I’ve walked or limped out of massages before where the practitioner said they understood my reticence, but went ahead and kneaded and provoked that land of keloids and deep-body scar tissue.
However, based on past experience, Ms. Nang knows full well my reluctance as well as my desires. That’s the reason I’m returning. She’s very, very good; a consummate professional and has a never-ending series of jokes and observations while she’s pummeling you into submission.
Today, we retire to a private cubicle and she hands me a small robe or napkin, not sure which, of Korean manufacture.
She tells me to get au natural and to wear the robe while she prepares the tools of her trade.
OK, I’m not a small person; not by a long shot. This robe, however, is made for a sprite, not even for a small person.
She returns to our massage cubicle as I’m sitting there, at the end of the massage table, sipping my drink clad only in my dapper red-and-white checkered boxers.
“You need to be unclothed, Doctor. Use the robe. OK, sir Rock?” she says.
“Ms. Nang,”, I said, shaking my head, “It’s one or the other.” I show her how laughable the robe is as I can’t even get it over my upper arm. It’s not even as a tea towel when it comes to covering my expansive acres of exposed epidermis.
“I can close door.”, she says, “I’m used to it. I am professional. Does not bother me if it does not bother you.”
I lost all forms of bashfulness, timidity, or prudery long, long ago. After years and years of Russian banya, Swedish massage, Turkish baths, and surgery; well, if it don’t bother you, it don’t bother me.
“OK”, I say, using the robe as a small two-dimensional breechcloth. She tells me to ‘hop’ up on the massage table and lie down, facing the floor.
After chuckling about the fact that I haven’t hopped for decades, I wander over to the nicely padded and extremely clean massage table and lie down. She rearranges the ‘robe’ to cover my backside and tells me to relax. She’ll be right back with the stones.
I’ve never tried this type of massage before, but as a geologist, I must; if for nothing else, progress in the name of science.
Ms. Nang returns with a large parcel consisting of many sizes of steamed stones. They were river-washed and tumbled basalt from the looks of them, all wrapped in a large fuzzy towel.
Now she finds the large towels…
She selects them one by one and places them in ‘special, strategic’ spots on my exposed back. From the lower 2/3rds of the nape of the neck, down the spine, over the fundus mountains, and down the back of each leg.
It’s a warm, almost hot in some places, but not an uncomfortable feeling. She returns to adjust them, grind them in a bit in places, and flip them to extract all that igneous lithological thermal goodness.
I have to admit, at that point, it was feeling quite delightful. Relaxed; I had my drink and was being kneaded My dorsal musculature was being de-lithified by the application of hot rocks and expert point massage.
All was going quite well as Ms. Nang was building a huge tip in her ‘job well done’ bank.
Then the rocks had all attained room temperature. She excused herself to reload with another minor outcrop’s-worth and told me to flip over for round two of the process.
“In for a dime, in for a dollar”, I said, as I flipped over and use the robe as a laughable forward-facing breechcloth.
Ms. Nang mentioned that she was always fascinated by Westerners and their surplus of bodily fuzz. With my long, shoulder-length silver hair, full Grizzly Adams beard that drooped down to my sternum, and torso that picked up where my beard left off; she was quite unprepared to see the beached silver-gray panda that awaited upon her return.
“Dr. Rock!’, she exclaimed, “You are as a bear! So much hair. And silver color!”
“Yeah, sorry”, I replied, “Just the hand genetics dealt me. I guess it’s an adaptation for ethanol-fueled organisms that never feel cold.”
“I will soon return.” She titters excitedly and almost runs out of the room.
“Hmmm. I wonder what that’s all about?” I muse as I lie largely undraped in the massage cubicle.
Suddenly, the door bursts open and every female massage practitioner there herded into the room. They simply had to see the specimen upon which the delightful Ms. Nang was working.
OK, truth be told, I was a bit taken aback. Here I am lying on an elevated, and heavily padded, massage table. I’m ‘wearing’ only a crooked, worried grin and a sheet of a cotton washcloth that measures about 12x12 inches.
They Oohed! and Ahhhed!
I did feel like some form of an alien animal suddenly thrust out into public view. It was a bit disconcerting, but as usual, I just tried to deflect any unease with jokes and idiot remarks. At my age, not much is going to bother me, and this I found all the more laughable than troubling.
Suddenly, I was fielding their barrage of questions:
“You are American? All American men so…hairy?”
“Yes and no”, I replied. I also mentioned I hadn’t undertaken a study in that particular subject.
“Why you so big?” one tiny lass asked, eyes as big as dinner plates.
“Genetics”. I replied. “Just a corn-fed Baja Canadian doofus. We grow ‘em big back home.”
“Can we touch?” one particularly brave little lass asks.
“Touch what?” I asked. Look, I might be over 6 decades old, but there are still some areas reserved for my one and only betrothed.
I did tell Esme of this whole event later that evening during our nightly call. She laughed herself silly.
“Your beard! Oriental men never have such beard. We touch maybe?” she implored.
I was going to say “Go nuts”, but I decided that a simple “Sure” would be more fitting.
So they did. They were enthralled. They had never before, from what I was told, seen such a large silver-gray ZZ Top-style beard, especially here at the hotel. That part was weird enough, but when they started in on working their way south toward the equator, I had to say something to dissuade them.
“Where were you girls 45 years ago?” I laughed.
I don’t think they got the joke. They became somewhat bolder in their austral exploratory activities.
“OK! Time out! Ms. Nang! We have an appointment to keep”, I said as I shooed the rest of the lassies away, “We need to finish what we started.”
By the time that the third syllable of that last sentence came into being, I knew it wasn’t the right thing to say.
They all laughed and tittered as Ms. Nang ushered them out of the room. I could have sworn I heard the door lock behind them.
Ms. Nang reprieved her earlier stone placement therapy, with a couple of strategic detours.
She wasn’t that type of masseuse, and I wasn’t looking for that type of massage. She did, however, knead and pummel me mercilessly.
I’ve been bruised less from barroom brawls.
Finally, she announces that she’s finished. She’ll leave while I shower, as she used essential aromatic oils, and would await me out in the lobby.
After showering, I felt like a large bowl of pummeled Jello. I felt relaxed, and for the first time in weeks, my back was silent. My head was clear as a spring Sunday morn in Reykjavik.
The full 90 minutes, plus sideshow, was 4,500 won.
I paid the owner the required sum and handed Ms. Nang an additional 15,000 for a job well done. And for another anecdote that goes into the hopper.
I left the massage parlor feeling quite fine, thank you. I wandered over to the bar to see if I could augment and prolong this feeling of harmony with the universe. The mental picture even now of all those cooing Korean lassies in the massage room never fails to elicit a laugh and head shake.
A few hours later, I’m back in my room, tidying up my field notes and making certain all my paperwork was heavily encoded and up to date. It was, so I placed a number of expensive overseas calls to catch up with everyone on the outside.
I’m thinking of calling room service to have my mini-bar repaired when my room phone rings.
“Now who would be calling me at this hour?” I wondered.
It was the tour group leader. He informed me that the itinerary had been worked out and we’d be leaving tomorrow for the field at 0600. We were to arrive with all our luggage and be prepared to check out. We would spend at least a week in the field, if not two, depending on our results, and be bivouacking in different places in the interior of the country.
I thanked him for the information and said I’d inform the rest of the team. He told me that wouldn’t be necessary as they would come up to or floor, deliver the notice verbally, or by note if they were out of their rooms. If I wanted to later call each participant and ensure they were apprised of the situation, that would be most appreciated.
I assured him I would do so and that we’d be ready, to a man, at 0600 the next day.
I whip up 10 Post-it™ notes and stick one on each member’s door.
“Leaving for the field. Check out 0530. Wheels up 0600. Bring all luggage. Road trip!”
To be continued…

Below is a list of links taken directly from Swagbucks' Twitter feed. When they have ispy code days or announce a new set of collector's bills, I click the link then copy and paste the URL in the list below. The search terms in parenthesis are just to help keep track of where you are in the list as you are clicking the links until you get a search win.
The idea came from one of these links posted in a facebook group - because everyone noticed it had a higher chance of getting a search win every single day. So I made a list of the links and I'm continuing to add to it.
Advice: Right click and choose "open in new tab/window" to keep the list up. If you get a duplicate collectors bill you do not need - do not claim it (enter the captcha). You should get a different collector's bill fairly shortly afterwards.

• https://t.co/ICL4JlfBTT?amp=1 (Sydney Australia)
• https://t.co/sVTBnz56OJ?amp=1 (12 Grapes)
• https://t.co/CwXMyxIZ1J?amp=1 (1907)
• https://t.co/ti4etSOBWA?amp=1 (Dick Clark)
• http://swagbucks.com/g/l/u88592 (Edna Mode)
• http://swagbucks.com/g/l/otxbco (Lava)
• http://swagbucks.com/g/l/agw2un (Oozma Kappa)
• http://swagbucks.com/g/l/hqgebb (Patton Oswalt)
• https://swagbucks.com/g/l/c69nyu (Rowdy)
• https://swagbucks.com/g/l/71jsqg (Big Red)
• https://swagbucks.com/g/l/2doo4d (Rampage)
• https://swagbucks.com/g/l/wsk79z (Swoop)
• http://ow.ly/MOwL50ymRpN (Dmitri Mendeleev)
• http://ow.ly/LPSE50yl1HB (Peanuts)
• http://ow.ly/Ol2K50yaxmm (Nigeria)
• http://ow.ly/QXQw50y8vf7 (flaky crescent shaped pastry january 30th)
• http://ow.ly/dAJv50y2bOe (Triton)
• https://www.swagbucks.com/?f=55&q=National+Dessert+Day (National Dessert Day)
• https://www.swagbucks.com/?f=55&t=w&p=1&q=Halloween+party+ideas&fbclid=IwAR2zNccjY2r1Q9cAM71y3KKAt0TLVco3b4I1eMjDVo8Fmk1nJ7iEc4ZyZkQ (Halloween Party Ideas)
• https://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/bnm12u (Black Sapote)
• https://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/m5dwfc (Key Lime Pie)
• https://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/cksq1g (Sprinkles Cupcakes)
• https://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/ms94by (Baked Alaska)
• http://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/xcq6yq (Benz)
• https://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/6vyye1 (Poe)
• https://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/p3btd7 (Coke)
• https://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/92x6fl (Oprah)
• https://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/1j26i4 (11th Bday)
• https://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/7esgul (Dingo)
• https://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/efhopd (Laika)
• https://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/kxw7fm (Plott Hound)
• https://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/ydza6b (Scrappy Doo)
• http://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/xfut0f (krypton)
• http://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/bk9mgj (daily planet)
• http://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/ayfgw6 (lex luthor)
• http://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/3qftpn (1904)
• http://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/x20ktt (black bear casino)
• http://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/mrnelz (veggieburg)
• http://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/6xq8wg (the ramones)
• http://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/fdgvx4 (congress)
• http://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/sqywtf (diamond dogs)
• http://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/dfnaug (tampa bay)
• http://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/s09w0q (miles davis)
• http://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/1vophi (parker)
• http://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/lke5po (ellington)
• http://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/si6s29 (lazy bird)
• http://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/nwevnv (Cibophobia)
• http://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/v7zrqp (taphophobia)
• http://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/4wkdj7 (Diplophobia)
• http://www.swagbucks.com/g/l/iehamv (Hodophobia)
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Slightly early happy fourth of July everyone! And belated Happy Canada day to our northern neighbors! And just happy days all around to everyone else! This is a chapter a loooong time coming. But I just kept kicking the idea around in my head, unhappy with it until things felt like they fell into place.
Without further ado the long awaited next chapter of Spellslinger!
My Stories
My Patreon
“So… what exactly are we doing again?” Fenrina asked as she helped Steve fit some parts onto a large contraption he was assembling.
“We’re going to stop Scott, and fight his army of skeletons.” Steve reminded her as he slapped some pieces together and wrapped plenty of his special flexible fabric of aquatic bird binding around the parts to hold them in place.
“No, I mean yeah. I get that. But… like how? And what’s this for?” Fenrina asked as she lifted a giant wheel up so Steve could bolt it to the side of his project.
“This is what will help us break through his army. I call it… Spellslinger’s automatic fossil fuel external combusting self propelled mobile engine! Or the SAFFECSPME for short.” Steve grinned and proudly posed before his machine.
“Steve you are just… terrible at naming things.” Sherry sighed with a slow shake of her head as she looked up at his rather haphazardly slapped together invention.
“I am not! You take that back female with whom I have relations!” He huffed. “I’m so tired of all these stupid artifacts we find that are just like… The orb of wonder! The circlet of insight! The Staff of penetrat- Actually that one is rather self explanatory… Regardless! When I name something people don’t have to be like oh I wonder what that does. No! They know exactly what it does right from the get go! Hah!” He once more set his hands on his hips and struck a proud pose.
“Why not like… take some of the words and stick them together? Like… auto...mobile. That sorta means the same thing right?” Fenrina suggested with a shrug.
“The automobile?” Steve asked as he gave Fenrina as confused look. “Pfft. What’s that even mean? It’ll never catch on. Unlike SAFFECSPME!”
“Safakspm?” Fenrina tried.
“No. SAFFECSPME.” Steve corrected her.
“Safeskspem?” She tried again.
“We’ll deal with that later.” Steve waved a hand dismissively. “What’s important now is waiting on word from the Archon that she’s finished up the spell we’ve been working on. Then we… well we wait for some of the skeletons to get here. I don’t have any more fossils so we need to smash them up and toss them in there.” He pointed to the large scoop at the front of his vehicle full of large spiked grinders. “Then inside I have a reserve of arcane water to mix with the ground up fossils, which then combusts here, which is why I’ve got the pipe to make sure most of the explosion is external. And then it’ll start moving forward.” He explained with a slow nod.
“How do we… steer it? And… where do we sit?” Sherry asked as she eyed the machine with a very nervous expression.
“Uh… I’ve got a wheel like on a ship, and I’ve made… seats.” Steve gave another vague wave at the machine. The seats he had bolted or strapped into place were more of the just fit wherever style over the actually made with purpose style. “Oh also, since this is super dangerous don’t forget safety first. Goggles everyone.” He went around to hand them each goggles.
“These will help us if it explodes?” Fenrina asked as she strapped them onto her face.
“Oh no. Not at all. They’re just to keep sand out of your eyes when we’re going fast.” He explained.
“Well, I do like to go fast.” Fenrina nodded with her usual levels of confidence and complete lack of concern.
“Can I mention that so far you’ve yet to mention how we’re going to defeat Scott. Or how we’re going to assemble the rest of Fenrina’s people. Or! Or how you’re even going to cast your spell!” Sherry reminded them even as she put on her own goggles.
“The Archon is casting that spell I mentioned. It’ll round up all of the people who’ve become…. Were-huskies and drop them near us. Don’t worry about it. Also I still need a better name than werehusky. As for casting the spell? Once we’ve mashed up that many of Scott’s skeletons I should have lots of power to use.” Steve shrugged. “As usual our best plans just sort of… happen. Without planning.”
“That makes them not plans.” Sherry drly remarked. “What about Scott? You heard the Archon she said he had powerful magicks with a K. Even with all four of us I’m not sure we can breach such old spell barriers.” Sherry then reminded him.
“Yeah but that’s why Steve is going to finger bang him.” Fenrina reminded them with a shrug.
“Ugh…” Steve groaned at that. “Just… stop saying that.”
“You guys won’t say what’s wrong with finger banging people! So until you do I’m just going to finger bang bang all day!” Fenrina wagged her fingers at the others.
“The finger that I’ve sabotaged will strip away his shields and then he’s like a basic skeleton. Uh… that is alive and talks and stuff. We can smash him real easy then. Larry could even deal with it… if he hadn’t forgotten all his spells for fighting undead and replaced them with party tricks.” Steve glared at the dwarf then.
“Larry insists it so unfair to shame a cleric for choosing to fight boredom at parties of sexy elves instead of fighting boring unsexy undead.” Both Sherry and Steve rolled their eyes as Larry tried to defend his practice of quick casting more… gimmicky spells. Such as transmute water to wine, and greater mood lighting.
“Regardless we need to hold them from getting past this part of the Hamak desert because if they get down into the casinos around Sinner’s Meadow a whole lot of gamblers, plus all the poor bastards the sunbinders buried with their pharaohs over the centuries, will become zombies. Or… skeletons maybe. Something undead. Although it might be hard to tell the difference compared with their usual behavior…” Steve mused idly as he rubbed his beard. Steve, Sherry, and Larry all looked out across the reddish sands of the desert before them knowing a vast horde of undead should be approaching them quickly from the valley of the dead where Scott and the rest of his Dicks had been buried, and conveniently lost to time until now.
“So, Steve, out of curiosity, what if Scott has some extra warriors buried at different points around the desert as a vanguard with like skeleton chariots and stuff and we start getting attacked before the Archon has her spell ready?” Fenrina asked.
“That sounds like an oddly specific worry Fenrina… but I guess we’d just have to ride around smashing skeletons until she’s ready. Why?” Steve asked and looked over to see the canine looking behind them.
“Because I think that hill is a tomb.” She pointed and the others looked around to see a mass of skeletons rushing up towards them, some on chariots being pulled by skeleton horses as well.
“Oh shit!” Steve hissed out as Sherry and Larry turned to quickly set up to face the oncoming attack. “Get ready and remember the plan!” Steve shouted.
“What plan?!” Sherry hissed back.
“That’s easy!” Fenrina grinned as she got out front with her shield raised. “Stuff the bad skeletons into the mashing bit! Drive around and find Scott! And then-
Spellslinger Fingerbangs-
“Don’t you dare!” Steve interrupted her before she could finish, and began to cast a fireball at the charging chariots. “The plan is-
Spellslinger Slaps a Dick
“They keep splintering into tiny pieces! I can’t even get a decent snack!” Fenrina growled out as another pair of skeletons rushed up at her only for her sword to cleave through both of them as a cloud of dust erupted in their place.
“We’ve got to somehow get them straight into the grinder!” Steve shouted and hurled a vine spear into the spoke of one of the chariots, causing the whole thing to tumble over as the skeletal horses shattered.
“Maybe Sherry’s whip? It doesn’t seem to destroy them as much!” Fenrina called out.
“The problem is when I whip them they just make these moaning sounds!” Sherry called back as she held a contingent of skeletal warriors at bay to the side of the machine.
“So… they’re immune to the whip?” Steve asked with a glance over.
“No, it still works but it’s really creepy and I don’t like it!” Sherry growled back. “And they don’t run from it they just stick around to get whipped more!”
“I’ve got an idea!” Fenrina announced and used her shield to smash apart another skeleton before rushing over to grab Larry. “Fastball special!”
“Larry hates this idea!” The dwarf shouted just before she spun and hurled him into the driver of one of the chariots knocking the skeleton out as Larry tumbled into the chariot. The dwarf quickly grabbed the reins then, but it wasn’t easy as he had to keep hopping to see over the horses.
“Into the machine!” Fenrina yelled at him even as she used her shield to shove several of the warriors in front of Steve’s engine. Realizing what she was doing Steve quickly pulled several reagents from his belt and stuffed them into his mouth before vomiting ice all over them to stick them in place.
“Ugh… I hate the flavor.” He muttered as he spit out a final snowball.
“Stop moaning and get back you creepy shits!” Sherry screamed on the other side of the machine as she kept furiously cracking her whip at the possibly masochistic vanguard of skeletons to try and herd them in front of the engine. Just as they were all in position Larry drove the skeletal horses into the grinder at the front of the machine, shoving the herd of warriors in at the same time as the dwarf hurled himself free of the wreckage at the last moment. For a second nothing seemed to happen as the grinders slowly turned, but then they began to pick up speed and the entire machine started to roll forward slowly.
“Hop on!” Steve called out as everyone jumped onto the nearest seat available. Steve tried to slip into the seat behind the steering wheel but to his surprise Fenrina picked him up before he could fully sit down and tossed him onto the front where he grabbed the nearest set to stop from sliding off. “Fenrina! The hell?!”
“All of you cast magic and stuff! What am I gonna do in here? Ask you to drive closer so I can hit them with my sword?” She snorted and pulled a lever to disengage the brakes. Steve was rather impressed at how much more focused she’d been lately. “Besides this way I can make it go as fast as I want!” She grinned wide as he immediately retracted his thought and sighed.
“Well… aim for the main cluster to get more fossils for fuel!” He hollered and pointed at the group still pouring out of the hill tomb. As they began to roll downhill the machine started to pick up speed both from smashing into more of the now fleeing skeletons, and the downhill course. Steve meant to start casting something to help thin the horde but instead he spent most of his time trying to avoid the sword and spears that were flying past him as the warriors got mulched by the grinder. He’d need to adjust his design a bit for the next one.
Thankfully Fenrina didn’t seem to need any help as his machine plowed through much of the vanguard as they tried to leave the tomb and by now it seemed to be fully charged as a gout of flame erupted from the back pipe making the entire thing shudder a moment. There were several more jerks as explosions rocked the SAFFECSPME forward and Steve desperately clutched the sides of his seat to steady himself. “Steve you asshole slow down!” Sherry screamed to the side.
“I’m not driving!” He yelled back.
“Sorry, force of habit! Fenrina!” The demon looked over but the husky was busy letting out a howl and then letting her tongue dangle in the wind as the machine shot out across the desert, rattling and bouncing over the terrain.
While Steve had planned for the goggles to shield his eyes he’d not given as much thought to his mouth and was coughing as his position at the front of the machine made him a magnet for dirt, sand, and bugs. He quickly pulled a cloth from one of his pouches to wrap around his face. When he looked to one side he saw Sherry had cut part of her shirt to do the same. But when he looked to the other side he saw Larry had in face pulled a rather large pair of panties over his face and then pulled his goggles down over it. “What the-”
“These are not Larry’s panties. For Larry does not wear panties. Except right now. As a mask.” He replied before Steve could even ask. Though that didn’t really answer much of anything. Steve wanted to ask more but then Fenrina spoke up as she glanced back.
“Hey Steve what if the skeletons saw what sort of machine we made and somehow like banded together into similar machines but made out of bones and stuff and came chasing after us to stop us and were covered in spikes and more skeletons and stuff?” She asked in one long breathless sentence.
“Uh… that’s… not really… possible?” Steve tried to think of what sort of magic could do something like that but wasn’t sure if it could be done. Especially not so quickly.
“Okay, then I guess I’m hallucinating.” Fenrina shrugged and Steve leaned out to the side to see several skeletal vehicles suddenly chasing after them.
“Oh what the fuck!” He gasped out. One of the smaller skeletal vehicles raced up ahead as he saw a skeletal trumpeter on it blaring some ear piercing tune. “That’s impossible! You guys are cheating!” He yelled over at them even as every skelton aboard the undead machine flipped him off.
“Doot doot motherfucker!” One of the more well armored skeletons simply screamed back at him as they started to jump across to board their ride. The trio had to quickly try and fend off the attackers from their already precarious seats.
“How can a skeleton even play trumpet! You don’t have lips!” Steve screamed as the skeletal minstrel jumped across and played trumpet in his face even as he chopped the skeleton’s legs off at the knees sending the upper body tumbling off the side. Thankfully with the speed Fenrina was going across the desert all they really had to do was shove them back off the sides and they’d be smashed to bits from the impact.
Yet the reanimated bones didn’t seem to have any issues with suicidally trying to ram their new bone-mobiles into the DOOM engine. Thankfully Steve had made his SAFFECSPM to be sturdy, though he was quickly making notes about what to add for the next version. Like something to strap him into his seat as the impacts from the skeletal riders would nearly knock him off the front and off the side. “Fenrina ram back!” Steve called out to her, but as she swerved to hit one of the bone-mobiles all the skeletons atop it just jumped over onto their ride. “New plan! Don’t do that!”
“Haha! Death to the fleshy bois! Fuck flesh!” One of the skeletons cried out as he tried to decapitate Steve with an old sickle sword. Though Steve got his own sword up to parry the attack.
“Yeah death to the fleshy bois! And… whatever this furry one is! Fuck the furry!” Another skeleton yelled as he tried to stab Fenrina with a spear, but she just grabbed the spear and used it to fling the skeleton off the engine.
“Larry insists you don’t use that term. It doesn’t mean what you think it does!” The dwarf advised even as he smashed apart another skeleton with his hammer as it tried to jump across.
“Why what does it mean?” Fenrina asked with a frown.
“Yeah, fleshy boi! What’s it mean?” The skeleton from earlier asked before Steve quickly conjured a large stone fish to smash him apart.
“Larry does not wish to explain right now. Larry simply… knows things that would suggest you don’t use that term.” The dwarf gave the others an odd look and Steve frowned a moment before narrowly ducking to avoid an arrow shot at them from a nearby bone-mobile.
“Larry do we want to know?” He asked and the dwarf just shook his head. “I swear you’re worse than bards sometimes…” Steve muttered even as he began to fast a fireball to lob back at the skeleton archers.
“Yeah well I’m tired of fighting all these boney bois and getting nothing to eat!” Fenrina growled out and as two of the skeletal vehicles pulled up alongside she yanked on the brake, making Steve let out a startled squeal and nearly roll off the front of the engine and into the grinder, but he caught himself on the edge. The two skeletal vehicles though smashed into each other in a mass eruption of bones which Fenrina then drove through, snagging a wayward femur in her mouth. “Mmhgnrnrng… uch etter…”
“Damnit Fenrina! Can you stop thinking about food for two seconds and focus!” Steve yelled and scrambled to pull himself back into his seat.
“‘Ere ‘e goi’ ‘nywa?” She asked as she kept chewing on the femur, causing little sparks to sizzle around her teeth.
“Uh…” Steve looked forward across the desert as he saw a massive lightning bolt from some cliffs ahead and the clouds began to grow impossibly dark. “Yeah my bet is that way.”
“Also ‘at ‘o I ‘o if ‘I ‘ee’ a ‘ig ‘orado ‘ats s’arkly?” She asked, refusing to give up her snack.
“What do you do if you see a big tornado that’s all sparkly? I don’t know… why do you ask?” Steve was watching Fenrina as he pulled himself back into his seat and then saw her point past him. When he looked back he saw an absolutely massive sand tornado crackling with purple lightning. “Oh for fuck’s sake! Stop asking questions like that Fenrina!”
“Hat? It ‘ot’ ‘I ‘ault!” She huffed.
“I swear it somehow is!” Steve hissed. “Get away from it! Towards the cliffs!” He pointed towards the beam in the sky pulling in more and more dark clouds. But as they got closer to the cliff he saw a tide of skeletons riding an entire fleet of bone-mobiles out towards them. “Never mind! Towards the tornado! Towards the tornado!” He screamed as he waved towards the tornado. Fenrina veered off towards the swirling vortex of sand and lightning as Steven feverishly pulled reagents from his pouches and frantically etched runes into the hood.
Even as they approached the massive storm the skeletons were overtaking them. Sherry had summoned her bone wings and was using them to operate a massive flaming bow to smash apart approaching riders with spear sized flaming bolts, and Larry was tossing holy orbs up into the air before using his hammer like a bat to smack them at the oncoming horde. It was still going to be extremely close as the tornado bore down upon them and the tide of skeletons grew ever closer. “Larry!” Steve screamed to be heard over the howling wind. “Bubble us!”
“Larry would have to use up a lot of energy to shield us all! Plus Larry does not appreciate the divine protection being called a bubble!” The dwarf protested, taking a momentary break from lobbing the holy bombs at the skeletons.
“Larry so help me you will bubble us all right now or I’ll tell the Archon what you did in the faculty lounge!” Steve screamed back. The dwarf went wide eyed a moment and set his hands on the engine before a golden sphere shimmered around them just as several of the bone-mobiles smashed into them. Thankfully with the bubble up they were instead blasted apart instead, and Fenrina was free to drive them straight into the vortex.
As the sand and lightning swept over them the bubble crackled and broke apart quickly, but Steve already had his hands up in the air and was shouting out virtually every protective weather ward he knew to create a break in the wind for them barrel through as the storm overtook Scott’s army and began to tear them apart. Steve could feel the drain of energy from shielding them as they thankfully burst out of the sand into the eye of the storm.
Yet even as the sky above them was clear and blue they suddenly saw several more vehicles ahead of them. Except they weren’t the bone-mobiles. They seemed to be made of rusty metal, and several were completely covered in spikes, plus their wheels were very small and made of some material Steve didn’t recognize at all. Not to mention instead of angry undead skeletons they seemed to be crewed by humans wearing bits of strange spiker armor that Steve also didn’t recognize. It didn’t seem like metal.
“Wha? Where did these guys come from?” Steve frowned in confusion. Before he could even try and call out to them one of the spiked vehicles saw him and a rider lobbed a spear at them which exploded just as it hit the sand. More of the rides howled out as he saw them grab at their crotches for some reason and wiggle their tongues in the air. “Okay they’re not friendly.” He growled and quickly lobbed a fireball right back, igniting the vehicle as it exploded in a shower of metal spikes that Fenrina had to dodge.
Several of the spiked hostile rides began to veer off towards him but a sleek black vehicle at the front dropped back and slammed into one, making it spin out and flip over a dune as the riders were tossed screaming into the storm as it moved. Forcing many of the others to drop back as they chased after them. “Oi you beautiful cunt!” Steve frowned as the rider of the sleek black machine came up next to him. Unlike the strange spiked armor the others wore this one was in black leather armor that was a little odd, but still something he was more familiar with.
“What!” Steve called back, unsure about the insult.
“Yeah! Thanks cunt! These mad mates been on me since a piss up in woop woop last night. Fuckin’ hoons ‘mirite?” The rider called back.
“What?” Was all Steve could respond with.
“Oi! Is that a Sheila dingo with tits drivin yer claptrap? Now that’s a bloody awesome mutant it is!” The black clad driver continued.
“What!?” Steve echoed from before, entirely confused.
“Right cunt! ‘Moff to the bottle-o! Hoo roo!” The driver called out before driving into the wall of sand ahead of them.
“I am so lost.” Steve muttered before raising his hands to chant out more wards as Fenrina took them back through the vortex of sand and lightning. This time as they neared the end his arms were truly getting tired and when they burst back out into the sun he let out a relieved gasp and sagged back down into his seat. Fenrina was taking them straight towards the cliff the shadows were growing out of but he didn’t see any more skeletons just yet so he used the time to catch his breath.
“Sherry… did that guy sound like a Drow to you?” Steve asked as he glanced back at the demon.
“You know more about them then me.” She replied with a shrug. “Also why were those other guys all wearing assless chaps?”
“Were they?” Steve frowned. “I think I was focused on other things.” He shook his head slowly and grabbed a rejuvenation potion off his belt as Sherry entered a narrow crack in the cliffs towards the shadow light on the far end. “Alright… uh… maybe slow it down a bit.” Steve urged Fenrina as they sped through the rocky walls with very little room on either side.
“Sure thing!” Fenrina called out, apparently done with her femur at some point. However right after that Steve heard a snap and Fenrina reached forward to hand him a stick. “Hey, can you hold onto this for me?” She asked.
Steve took the lever and looked at it in his hands a moment before realizing what it was. “Fenrina! This is the brake lever!”
“Yeah. It broke.” She replied and then took her hands off the wheel to give him a big shrug as her tongue dangled from her mouth.
“Damnit Fenrina.” Steve sighed, but before he could do anything else they exited the small canyon and came into a clearing with a rather steep drop off as the SAFFECSPM was launched off it into a pit below. The members of DOOM cried out and tumbled off the machine as it plummeted. Thankfully Sherry was quick to get her bone wings out and grab Steve while Fenrina grabbed onto Larry as the dwarf frantically cast another bubble around them so they’d bounce off the ground and roll to a stop while Sherry brought Steve down in a mostly controlled descent as they all landed around the wreckage of Steve’s machine.
“My my my… you really are a tenacious shit sucker.” Steve looked around as he heard that voice and saw Scott standing above them upon a rather short pyramid.
“Is this your pyramid Scott? It’s… a little small.” Steve called back.
“It’s not about the size of the pyramid but how you use it!” Scott screamed back. Around them Steve saw more skeletal warriors start to rush forward from around the pyramid.
“We’ve just got done destroying entire legions of your shitty warriors! What’s a few more?” Steve called up to Scott only to see larger skeletons start to rush out of the pyramid itself. Their armor and weapons obviously superior to the lesser skeletons they’d been fighting. “Well, fine! The more the merrier!” He continued even as black lightning struck the ground and ten foot tall half jackal half human mummies began to burst out of the ground. “I uh… I still think… we’ve got this.” He muttered at the end.
“Do you? Do you really?” Scott asked as the ground around them began to rumble. Besides the pyramid the ground began to shift as sand fell away to reveal an absolutely massive snake rising up. Then the ground around them shifted as Steve realized much of the ground around them was just the coiled tail of this gargantuan snake.
“That… that is… that is a very very big snake.” Steve muttered as he watched it rise up, clad in a rather dazzling jeweled headpiece that constituted the complete output of at least one gold mine, and the centerpiece was a ruby the size of Larry.
“Your pathetic struggle ends here fool!” Scott called back at the snake’s massive forked tongue flicked out a moment and its maw started to open.
“You’re such a dick Scott.” Steve huffed.
“Yes. I’m the king of the dicks! No one is more dick than I! Scott!” The skeleton replied with a maniacal cackle as shadow lightning struck behind him to create an inverse flash of light to highlight his malevolence.
“But you still haven’t found your actual dick I see.” Steve waved at the skeleton’s crotch. “You… dickless wonder!”
“No… That miserable bastard of mine Eddy… I don’t know what he did with it! Him and that treacherous vizier Sigmund. They had the creepiest ideas about mothers.” The skeleton shuddered for a moment and then waved a hand. “But enough of this mindless prattle! You die now and shall be nothing more than snake shit soon! Strike my servant!” He called as the snake hissed out and rose up.
“Hold on I got this.” Sherry said to Steve’s surprise and pushed him aside to step closer to the snake. Her own forked tongue flicked out and she began to hiss at the massive snake. “Hiisss. Hiss hiss hiiisss. Hiss hissss hisss hiss?”
The snake stopped then and seemed to wriggle a moment as it… blushed? “HISSSS HISS HISSS HISSSSS HIIIISSISISS.”
“What is this?” Scott demanded to know even as the two started to talk.
“Snake tongue.” Steve replied.
“I didn’t mean what language you insufferable turd!” Scott yelled back. Meanwhile the snake and Sherry kept talking.
“Hisss hiss hiss hisss. Hhissisiss? Hiss hiss.” Sherry said with an exaggerated toss of her hair.
“HISSS HISS HIIISS HISSSISIS. HISS.” The massive snake rolled its eyes and gave Scott a look even as Sherry gave Steve a similar look that made him squirm.
“The judgement I feel is somehow worse than being eaten by that giant snake.” He muttered.
“Stop dithering about whelp! I command you to eat them! Eat them right now! Do your fucking job and obey me!” The opulently decorated skeleton began to jump up and down as he screamed. This just made the big snake give Sherry a knowing look.
“HISS. HISSS HISSSS HIIIISS. HIISSISIS.” It said as Sherry then laughed and waved a hand.
“Hiiisss! Hisss hiss hiss.” With that the big snake rose up and started to slither out of the canyon that Fenrina had just drove them down to leave the clearing.
“Stop! I fucking order you to stop! Get back here you insolent upsized worm! I’ll have you made into boots for my entire army! Get back here right fucking now!” He screamed but the snake just slithered off into the desert leaving them in a now emptier clearing with the short pyramid at the center. Though this did help highlight just how many hundreds of regular skeletons were still around them, dozens of the elite guard, and twenty or so of the big jackalpeople mummies.
“I guess dick’s just don’t know how to talk to ladies.” Steve joked as the others chuckled.
“Forget this fucking foreplay!” Scott called out and pointed a jeweled scepter at them. “I’m still king dick here! Even if I have to track down that traitor and skin her later you won’t be more than a fleshy lump once my warriors are done eviscerating you! There’s four against an army! Was this your plan you festering maggot!?”
“Uh… No. My plan… was…” Steve floundered a moment as he tried to think of what to say. But then against the dark sky above them he saw a green light. When he looked up a massive sphere was hurtling through the air towards them. “Hah! That was my plan dickwad! Behold! The Orb of Donelaps! Eh… why is it all fuzzy?” He wondered for a moment, somewhat stealing his own thunder as the now fuzzy green orb smashed into the ground behind much of the skeletal army.
The fuzz became readily apparent however as the sphere poured open to reveal hundreds of cheering werehusky barbarians who came charging out with all manner of weapon at hand. A mighty battlecry rose up from their ranks and echoed out all around them as they descended upon the unprepared skeletons. “Fooooood!”
“Yeah! Food!” Fenrina cried out as she pumped her sword in the air.
“Why am I not surprised?” Steve asked with a roll of his eyes as the barbarians clashed with the skeletons and mostly focused on ripping them apart to chew on their many bones.
“Steve we’ve still got most of an army between them and us.” Sherry reminded him and he looked around as the ten foot tall jackalpeople mummies closed in.
“Oh shit right.” They backed up against the wreckage of his SAFFECSPM and prepared to fend off the attackers as he yelled up at Scott. “Are you not going to face me yourself Scott? Man to man?”
“No!” The skeleton called back immediately.
“What? Why not!” Steve yelled back.
“Because I’m a dick! How do you not get this?!” The skeleton shrugged as he looked back down on them.
“Oh yeah! Well you might change your mind when you realize you can’t do this!” Steve called out and flipped Scott off.
“Yes I can!” Scott quickly extended a hand to flip Steve off in return.
“Uh… let's try that again. You can’t do this!” Steve now extended both hands to give Scott the double bird.
“This is getting tiresome.” The skeletal king sighed and then set his scepter into a stand so he could double bird Steve in return, only to discover his missing finger. “What! How dare you abscond with my second favorite finger!”
“Yeah! I bet you’d like to demonstrate how you feel with your hands! Except you can’t!” Steve taunted as he waved Scott’s finger at him.
“Murder him and retrieve my finger! I’m coming down there!” Scott screamed and began to stomp down the pyramid towards them.
“Alright guys! If we work together we can-” Steve started only to be jostled as Fenrina bounced off him and then leapt at the nearest mummy as she swiped across his chest, landing besides him and driving her blade into his knee before twisting the blade to pop the mummified leg apart and then spinning away to start attacking the next one.
“Sorry Steve already busy!” She called out as he stood there.
“Fuck… I didn’t teach her… any of that.” He muttered and then looked up as one of the ten foot tall mummies approached him. “Right right… I’ve got this…” He muttered and tried to think about not only what he could cast, but what might work. He’d been going through his supplies alarmingly quickly so far.
“I uh…” The mummy stomped closer as it raised a massive sickle above him. “Uhhhh uhh.. I cast rock!” He slapped together some ingredients and then tossed a pebble at the mummy which bounced off its head. The mummy actually stopped and seemed to give him a confused look. “I cast bigger rock!” Steve shouted and rubbed his hands with the remains of the ingredients and pointed at the mummy as a boulder flew out of the sky and smashed mummy’s skull off completely.
“Hah! I got one guys!” Even as he looked over Fenrina was somehow dueling three of the mummies all at the same time, parrying blows with her sword and shield as she deftly kicked, bashed, and stabbed them in return. Sherry was using her bonewing bow once more to impale mummies and Scott’s elite guard. Larry had initiated a holy poetry slam as he hurled divine insults about how ugly the mummies were to crush their spirits, just before he used his hammer to crush their bones for good measure. “Seriously? When did I become the slacker? When did this happen?” Steve asked no one.
“Shitsucker!” Steve looked back and let out a rather unmanly squeal of surprise as he narrowly leaned out of the way of a blast of green energy from the magical staff the skeletal king held. “You die now!” Scott called out and began to wave his hands to no doubt follow up with a spell.
“Hah! Eat disintegration!” Steve yelled back and grabbed the last of his prepared reagent pouches as he cast the words and fired back at Scott with a golden beam of pure energy before the skeleton could react. However the entire beam just seemed to course around the skeleton as shadowy orbs appeared to deflect the magic. “Uh… well… That was the last of the spells I had planned for today… If you could just… wait for my team to finish up…” Steve suggested and to his surprise Scott stopped casting.
“Oh sure.” He nodded.
“Really?” Steve asked in surprise.
“NO!” Scott screamed and raised his hands as a series of shadow bolts began to fly out towards Steve, making him curse and fling himself around to very narrowly avoid getting impaled. Once the cascade of bolts was over Scott began to cast once more but Steve just tossed his finger at him.
“Here! Take it!” He hollered and backed up as Scott grabbed the finger.
“Yes! Now I can properly flip off children with both hands!” Scott cackled a moment but his cackling was cut short as the finger began to sizzle. “Wait… No!” At the last moment the skeleton reached to grab his arm but it was too late as the finger erupted in a pulse of energy that knocked Scott flat. The shadowy bubbles around him shimmered before they vanished with a distinct POP.
“Huh… I don’t know what I expected… but that wasn’t it.” Steve muttered.
“Alright! Steve! You did it! How do you like that Scott? Steve fingerbanged the shit out of you!” Fenrina called out as she cleaved through the last of the mummies.
“Ugh.” Steve groaned.
“Uuugghh… your dog is disgusting.” Scott muttered as he began to get up.
“Yeah she is at times.” Steve nodded.
“Why won’t anyone tell me what it means!? OOoooo I wanna knoooow!” Fenrina wailed with a howl.
“Anyway it’s you and me now Scott! Man against skeleton!” Steve grinned and charged forward as he hauled off and punched Scott in the face, making the skeleton’s head spin around wildly. “How ya like that! No more magic! Just punching!”
“Yeah Steve fist him good!” Fenrina encouraged as she began to bound over.
“Oh for fuck’s sake… Please just… stop.” Steve groaned out and tried to focus on punching Scott’s spinning skull once more. But this time as he tried he gasped in pain as Scott’s teeth clamped around his knuckles. “Aaahhh! Oowww! OW! Stop it!” He tried to pry his hand free of Scott’s mouth but the skeleton growled and chewed harder for a moment until finally letting go. Steve staggered back clutching his now bloody hand.
“What’s wrong Steve? Didn’t know I was a biter?!” Scott asked with a cackle. By now Fenrina had charged over, but to his surprise when she swung to smash Scott apart with her sword the skeleton parried the blow with his arm. Every blow she swun was parried by the one armed skeleton as she even tried to shield bash, and kick only to be countered at every turn. “Fools! I am a warrior king! I’m more than just magic! Even my bones have been enchanted! Nothing you wield can harm me!” Rolling past Fenrina Scott plucked his staff up from the ground and spun it around before smashing it into the werehusky, sending her flying in a burst of magic energy as shs slammed into the side of the SAFFECSPM with a howl.
Steve looked around a moment in desperation and found Scott’s other arm that had been blown free by the fingerbanging earlier. Picking it up he wielded it like a flail and charged at the skeleton who was leveling his staff at Fenrina. Steve lashed out with the arm to slap Scott with it, knocking the skeleton aside and causing his magical bolts to fly wildly into the air. “Quit hitting yourself! Quit hitting yourself!” Steve began to chant then as he slapped Scott with his own arm, knocking the villain back step by step, getting him closer to the front of the engine.
“Motherless-” Scott began to hiss even as Steve slapped him across the face once more. But the king had enough as he slammed his staff into the ground and Steve was sent flying back with an energy pulse. “Enough!” Scott bellowed.
“That’s what you think!” Sherry called out as a fire spear shot through Scott’s ribs. But the skeleton just stood there entirely unimpressed.
“Oh no. Fire. What is it going to do? Burn me to the bone?” He asked and snapped the spear apart to toss it aside.
“Larry! We need divine magic here!” Sherry called out but the air around them flickered and grew… not exactly dark… but not exactly light. It was… moody. Nicely so. Steve slowly picked himself up and looked over as he and Sherry both saw the dwarf sitting on a rock a little ways away with some candles out, drinking from his waterskin. “What… Is he?” Sherry started.
“Larry! Did you just use the last of your magic to have a fucking wine break?!” Steve shouted at the dwarf who just held up a finger and kept upending his entire waterskin having turned it into wine. “Fucking healer’s union and their mandatory breaks!” Steve hissed.
“It doesn’t matter.” Sherry called out and pointed behind Scott as the army of barbarian werehuskies got closer, tearing apart the skeletons with ease. “You’re done Scott.”
“A dick isn’t done until there’s nothing left!” Scott screamed back and drove his staff into the ground. “It might take me a thousand years but I can dig myself out eventually! Can you?!” He asked as the cliffs all around them began to shake and rumble. The shadowlighting from the dark sky coursing out and striking at the rocks as it became clear he planned to bury everyone here with him.
Fenrina slowly pulled herself up besides the machine then and raised a hand. “Steve! Bone me!”
“Ugghh…” Steve groaned.
“Uuuugghhh…” Sherry shuddered.
Larry just kept drinking wine.
“Okay… even I think that was especially crass.” Scott sighed.
“What? Why are you all…” Fenrina looked confused and waved her hand. “Steve! The bone! In your hand! Throw it to me! BONE ME!”
“Oh. OH!” Steve hastily reached back and hurled the arm towards her. Scott tried to reach up and grab it but it just cleared his fingers allowing Fenrina to snatch it out of the sky and shove it into the grinder at the front of the engine. The whole thing crackled as Scott’s extremely potent fossilized remains sent a surge of energy through it and the wreckage of Steve’s machine drove forward.
“Noooo!” Scott screamed out just before the grinder slammed into him, but the wreck was halted against the staff stuck into the ground. The engine shuddered and sparks rose up around it as it was filled with energy.
[Continued in Comments]