Posted April 03, 2018
After calling everybody he knows over several days, the Puzzlemaster slams down his phone in frustration. Nearly each person either laughed at him or hung up, being nowhere near foolish or naïve enough to aid him in his experiments after what happened last time.
“Fine!” he cries out in frustration. “I ain’t no wimp! I’ll do it myself if these fools won’t help me!”
Unbeknownst to him, Bookwyrm, hearing from the others that Zeogold is up to his old tricks, stands on the doorstep of the mansion, shuddering for a moment before working up the courage to pull the rope that rings the bell. After receiving no response, he sneaks in through an open window and begins exploring. Finding his way to the library, he spots a light shining in from a bookcase that’s swung open. Taking a moment to adjust his hat and prepare for what he might see within, he enters, finding a secret passageway which leads to a staircase that heads down. In a few moments, he emerges into a secret and complex laboratory, in which the Puzzlemaster is carefully banging at Puzzle-Bot with a wrench.
“Puzzlemaster! Stop this! I’m not letting you do this again!”
“Huh? Who th-”
Startled by the noise, the Puzzlemaster takes a wild swing, which clocks the robot in the head.
“Uh oh. That ain’t good. Good thing I didn’t activate the time mechanism yet, otherwise we might end up in some sort of, y’know, alternate-”
Approximately 37 seconds of flashing lights, hoarse screaming, wild flailing, and open weeping later, the two of them find themselves sprawled on the ground of a long, wide hall, ending in a large set of ornate double doors guarded by what appear to be two German soldiers in uniform.
“What did you do?!” screams Bookwyrm.
“Relax, relax. Puzzle-Bot’s still right here, ain’t he? All I have to do is adjust the time dial, swivel the trunzel arm, figure out how to re-align the floorbrush axel, bellywhack the flipped credoyble, and we’re back home in a hot few seconds!”
“You just made up half of those terms, didn’t you?”
“Yup, but that doesn’t make much of a difference. It looks like the trunzel arm is missing.”
“Missing? What do you mean ‘missing’?”
“Just that. It seems to have been flown off somewhere in time and space.”
“So it could be anywhere in the world, at any point in history?! We’re stuck here?!”
“Well, that depends. You see, I COULD sorta make do with a-”
“HALT!”
The pair are stopped in their discussion by the soldiers who have walked over and appear to be carefully examining them.
“Uh-oh. What do we do now?”
“Keep cool, I’ve got this. By my approximations, we should be in Germany in the early 1930s.”
“Just before the Third Reich?”
“Yeah, but we’re all good. I’ve done my research, I know how to communicate.”
The Puzzlemaster, throwing his hands behind his back in a tight clasp, approaches the soldiers with authority in all the glory of his beaten-up hat and bagel-crumb-covered coat. Forming his lips into a snarl, he barks the only German phrase he knows:
“JAWOHL!”
The soldiers look at each other, confused.
“I thought you said you knew how to communicate!” Bookwyrm yells. “Where did you do your ‘research’? Documentaries?”
“Nah, just some old Captain America comic books. I’m tellin’ ya, relax, I’ve got this. It always works when Bucky tries it.”
The soldiers converse with one another in a low whisper.
“Der ist total verrückt.”
"Du glaubst nicht etwa, das ist er, oder doch?"
"Sie sagten er sei Amerikaner. Sind Amerikaner so?"
"Muss wohl so sein."
"Na gut, lass uns ihn und den Typen mit dem hässlichen Hut reinbringen."
The Puzzlemaster and Bookwyrm are both gruffly taken by the arm by the soldiers and led through the doors they were guarding. Puzzle-Bot is thrown in after them. Inside is a large, oval table, with high seats. Having no idea what else to do, they sit down at the ends and wait.
Soon, one of the soldiers returns and leads a nervous Bookwyrm from the room. The Puzzlemaster waits and worries heavily.
About an hour later, Bookwyrm returns, in full military regalia (though still allowed to keep his hat), and makes an announcement.
“The council shall now come to order!”
He holds the door open as 13 well-dressed individuals walk through and take their appointed seats, followed by the two soldiers who now guard the door from the inside.
“From all 7 continents come our honored council!
From North America, in the American state of Texas, General R. Warehall bring his battle-hardened spirit and rural wisdom! He brings with him the honored Boss Kusu of New York, with his assistants known as ‘The Greek’ and ‘Mr. Scene’, who...he...says we can trust, but ok...
From South America, the famed Captain Dedo of naval prowess, ruler of the Cape Horn!
From the wildlands of Antarctica, the solitary Chief Blotunga, king of the frozen plains!
From our own Europe, the esteemed Count of Monte Cristigale of France!
From the far-off Asia comes Big Brass, traveling forger of instruments and wizard of sounds!
From Africa, the blessed Bishop Bling of the Congo, whose sense of style is unmatched!
From Australia, the strongman and bush hunter Basil the Lifter!
We also welcome our team of London journalists to record the events, including B.J. the Scribbler, known for his reporting, the man known as “The Hunter” for his ability to find a lead in a story, and “The Doc” as a medical expert.”
“Hey,” whispers the Puzzlemaster, after everything’s settled down. “What happened out there?”
“Apparently, they think we’re the appointed two to lead this council. They think that I’m your assistant and a translator informed me on everything. They called in an international meeting here in order to figure out how to deal with some weird-looking alien artifact. The hope is that there will be enough liberal policies such that everyone will agree to harness its mysterious energy and let the world benefit from its usage. There’s rumors that some sort of fascist regime is rising and trying to take control of it and use its power to rule the world, though.”
“You’re my assistant? Ok, sweet, I’ve got this.”
“Wait, did you not hear the rest of what I just-”
“SILENCE, STRUDEL!” screams the Puzzlemaster in a horrendous German accent, slapping Bookwyrm across the face.
“HEY! What in the world are you-”
“I VILL NOT HAVE ZE UNDERLINGS GETTING OUT OF ORDER! Now...to deal with ze rest of you...”
Spinning around on his heel and glaring angrily at the council, the Puzzlemaster bangs his fist down on the table and yells at the top of his lungs.
“ZE PUZZLEMASTER’S COURT-”
“This isn’t the Puzzlemaster’s Court.”
“ZE INTERNATIONAL COUNCIL SHALL COME TO ORDER!”
“Fine!” he cries out in frustration. “I ain’t no wimp! I’ll do it myself if these fools won’t help me!”
Unbeknownst to him, Bookwyrm, hearing from the others that Zeogold is up to his old tricks, stands on the doorstep of the mansion, shuddering for a moment before working up the courage to pull the rope that rings the bell. After receiving no response, he sneaks in through an open window and begins exploring. Finding his way to the library, he spots a light shining in from a bookcase that’s swung open. Taking a moment to adjust his hat and prepare for what he might see within, he enters, finding a secret passageway which leads to a staircase that heads down. In a few moments, he emerges into a secret and complex laboratory, in which the Puzzlemaster is carefully banging at Puzzle-Bot with a wrench.
“Puzzlemaster! Stop this! I’m not letting you do this again!”
“Huh? Who th-”
Startled by the noise, the Puzzlemaster takes a wild swing, which clocks the robot in the head.
“Uh oh. That ain’t good. Good thing I didn’t activate the time mechanism yet, otherwise we might end up in some sort of, y’know, alternate-”
Approximately 37 seconds of flashing lights, hoarse screaming, wild flailing, and open weeping later, the two of them find themselves sprawled on the ground of a long, wide hall, ending in a large set of ornate double doors guarded by what appear to be two German soldiers in uniform.
“What did you do?!” screams Bookwyrm.
“Relax, relax. Puzzle-Bot’s still right here, ain’t he? All I have to do is adjust the time dial, swivel the trunzel arm, figure out how to re-align the floorbrush axel, bellywhack the flipped credoyble, and we’re back home in a hot few seconds!”
“You just made up half of those terms, didn’t you?”
“Yup, but that doesn’t make much of a difference. It looks like the trunzel arm is missing.”
“Missing? What do you mean ‘missing’?”
“Just that. It seems to have been flown off somewhere in time and space.”
“So it could be anywhere in the world, at any point in history?! We’re stuck here?!”
“Well, that depends. You see, I COULD sorta make do with a-”
“HALT!”
The pair are stopped in their discussion by the soldiers who have walked over and appear to be carefully examining them.
“Uh-oh. What do we do now?”
“Keep cool, I’ve got this. By my approximations, we should be in Germany in the early 1930s.”
“Just before the Third Reich?”
“Yeah, but we’re all good. I’ve done my research, I know how to communicate.”
The Puzzlemaster, throwing his hands behind his back in a tight clasp, approaches the soldiers with authority in all the glory of his beaten-up hat and bagel-crumb-covered coat. Forming his lips into a snarl, he barks the only German phrase he knows:
“JAWOHL!”
The soldiers look at each other, confused.
“I thought you said you knew how to communicate!” Bookwyrm yells. “Where did you do your ‘research’? Documentaries?”
“Nah, just some old Captain America comic books. I’m tellin’ ya, relax, I’ve got this. It always works when Bucky tries it.”
The soldiers converse with one another in a low whisper.
“Der ist total verrückt.”
"Du glaubst nicht etwa, das ist er, oder doch?"
"Sie sagten er sei Amerikaner. Sind Amerikaner so?"
"Muss wohl so sein."
"Na gut, lass uns ihn und den Typen mit dem hässlichen Hut reinbringen."
The Puzzlemaster and Bookwyrm are both gruffly taken by the arm by the soldiers and led through the doors they were guarding. Puzzle-Bot is thrown in after them. Inside is a large, oval table, with high seats. Having no idea what else to do, they sit down at the ends and wait.
Soon, one of the soldiers returns and leads a nervous Bookwyrm from the room. The Puzzlemaster waits and worries heavily.
About an hour later, Bookwyrm returns, in full military regalia (though still allowed to keep his hat), and makes an announcement.
“The council shall now come to order!”
He holds the door open as 13 well-dressed individuals walk through and take their appointed seats, followed by the two soldiers who now guard the door from the inside.
“From all 7 continents come our honored council!
From North America, in the American state of Texas, General R. Warehall bring his battle-hardened spirit and rural wisdom! He brings with him the honored Boss Kusu of New York, with his assistants known as ‘The Greek’ and ‘Mr. Scene’, who...he...says we can trust, but ok...
From South America, the famed Captain Dedo of naval prowess, ruler of the Cape Horn!
From the wildlands of Antarctica, the solitary Chief Blotunga, king of the frozen plains!
From our own Europe, the esteemed Count of Monte Cristigale of France!
From the far-off Asia comes Big Brass, traveling forger of instruments and wizard of sounds!
From Africa, the blessed Bishop Bling of the Congo, whose sense of style is unmatched!
From Australia, the strongman and bush hunter Basil the Lifter!
We also welcome our team of London journalists to record the events, including B.J. the Scribbler, known for his reporting, the man known as “The Hunter” for his ability to find a lead in a story, and “The Doc” as a medical expert.”
“Hey,” whispers the Puzzlemaster, after everything’s settled down. “What happened out there?”
“Apparently, they think we’re the appointed two to lead this council. They think that I’m your assistant and a translator informed me on everything. They called in an international meeting here in order to figure out how to deal with some weird-looking alien artifact. The hope is that there will be enough liberal policies such that everyone will agree to harness its mysterious energy and let the world benefit from its usage. There’s rumors that some sort of fascist regime is rising and trying to take control of it and use its power to rule the world, though.”
“You’re my assistant? Ok, sweet, I’ve got this.”
“Wait, did you not hear the rest of what I just-”
“SILENCE, STRUDEL!” screams the Puzzlemaster in a horrendous German accent, slapping Bookwyrm across the face.
“HEY! What in the world are you-”
“I VILL NOT HAVE ZE UNDERLINGS GETTING OUT OF ORDER! Now...to deal with ze rest of you...”
Spinning around on his heel and glaring angrily at the council, the Puzzlemaster bangs his fist down on the table and yells at the top of his lungs.
“ZE PUZZLEMASTER’S COURT-”
“This isn’t the Puzzlemaster’s Court.”
“ZE INTERNATIONAL COUNCIL SHALL COME TO ORDER!”
Post edited April 03, 2018 by zeogold
