The Gentlemen's Club
[Sir Oliver lounges bonelessly in his armchair, the air around him wreathed in the oily smoke from his opium-tainted cigarette. He leans back and twiddles his moustache awaiting the arrival of his guests.]
Oh, the burdens of being a villainous, moustachioed, English aristocrat.
[A beautiful, trembling handmaid, who bares an uncanny resemblance to popular model and pop singer, Sophie Ellis Bextor, enters the room, carrying a tray of drinks.]
Ah, marvellous. Just put those over there on the table, will you, my dear?
Handmaid: Y-y-yes, sir.
Excellent, excellent, there's a good girl...
[Sir Oliver leers at his trembling handmaiden lecherously, as she bends over the table, placing the tray upon it.]
Excellent, excellent, very good. Your are dismissed, Sophie, my dear.
[The handmaiden bobs a curtsy, before darting out of the room as quickly as her shapely, well-turned legs can carry her.]
Oh James!
[James, Sir Oliver's enormous, scarred, bald-headed butler looms in the doorway, his wide shoulders almost filling it completely.]
James: 'S s'r.
Get the door, will you, I believe that the first of my guests has arrived...
James: V'ry good, s'r.
[James lumbers off to answer the door. Sir Oliver leans back, and permits himself another long puff on his opiated cigarette.]
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Wow, it looks like the Gents Club is transdimensional. Hmmm, somthing seems a bit off, though.
::flops in a chair and orders a nice cold glass of Mountian Dew::
Ah, have you gotten those upgrades for the robots, my friend?
Nice touch. Wherever did you get the funds for that? Has the good Cap'n given back the petty cash? I wasn't aware he had returned from plundering the West Indies. Or perhaps, did you make some wise investments with that singed $20 bill from the bank heist?
Well, regardless, nice touch, my man. I feel no desire to say things like 'upside the head' here. I feel all cultured.
::sips drink::
[Sir Oliver leans back, takes a final drag on his cigarette, before stubbing it out on the thigh of a chained Juliet Landau.]
Hmmm... I felt it was about time I opened up a new branch of The Gentlemen's Club, elsewhere on the web, good Eater, sir, since it would appear that all is quiet in the Realm Of The Lost.
[Sips drink. Strokes chained Juliet Landau's head.]
I withdrew some money from my sizable Swiss Bank Account to finance this little venture, and I hope it will prove a success.
Pretty soon, I hope to have of a whole chain of Gentlemen's Clubs, all across the Internet, like McDonalds, if you will, only with less grease and more nubile, young...
[Sophie Ellis Bextor enters, in her French maid's uniform, carrying a tray of drinks.]
...young... er... um... firm... er... shapely...
...I'm sorry, what was I talking about again?
The ambiguously dressed, scantily clad, Boris Yan Halem enters the club, wearing a blue velvet suit, fishnet tights complete with blue eye shadow.
"Why hellooo" he says in seductive tone. Fumbling his pocket for a cigar, his topless handmaid Ulga frantically searches for a lighter.
*Ulga lights Halem's cigar, and Halem sends her back to her cage*
"Things seem to be setting up for a fine afternoon... Now where do we keep the scotch... Oh dear, chaps our contraceptive supply seems to be running short!"
No need to worry about that, Boris, old friend. It just means more lower class, bastard offspring to till the lands on our estates, eh?
[Sir Oliver, EaterOfTheDead and Boris Yan Halem all chortle heartily.]
Personally, never touch the damn things. I feel they take away a significant amount of enjoyment from the experience. If you feel you must, however, I recommend cutting the ends off, for a much more pleasurable session of copulation.
Ah, Eater, I don't believe that you two have been introduced. This is Boris Yan Halem, the wealthy idiot son of the Countess of Pravokia. I first encountered him in a house of ill repute in Cairo, drinking cheap advocaat as if it was water and chatting with several unconvincing harem girls. The two of us got to chatting, and after several failed attempts at anal copulation, I explained to him that buggery was not a hobby that I held in high regard. Actually, now that I think of it, I retract the statement about contreceptive devices, for if I recall correctly... no... it's unimportant now. I was never confused. Never.
Anyway, I did say that, if he was ever in the region, to look me up and drop by. And so he has, it seems.
Be warned though, as his slightly ambiguous appearance implies, he may, no doubt, be carrying one or two sexually transmitted infections.
[Looks down at empty brandy glass in his hand.]
MAID! IT WOULD APPEAR YOUR MASTER'S GLASS IS EMPTY!
[Sophie Ellis Bextor races into the room, and, her hands shaking wildly, hastily pours the fiery liquor into Sir Oliver's glass. Sir Oliver looks at his watch.]
Oh good. That took you all of two seconds, Sophie, my dear. That's a new record, I do believe. You've done well.
Sophie: Thank you, sir.
As a reward for your expedient service, I shall refrain from being quite so 'ferocious' with you, when you tend to me in my chamber this night.
Sophie: Truly? Oh, God bless you, sir. You are a truly noble man.
I know, my dear, I am, aren't I? I'm afraid you'll still have to wear the ball gag, however. There's nothing more distracting than the sobs of a servant girl when one is enjoying some violent sex with the serving classes.
My my Olly, I must say you've got this in spiffing condition *Makes advancing glances at Sophie Ellis Bextor* And your totty is ummmm.... exquisite.
Do you have any means of 'tele-communication' ...should ring mother y'know she doesn't like me in foreign regions after dark...
Ah oh well, *puffs cigar* I say I'm a tad squiffy... Oh Ulga!!
Ulga comes forth, sits on Yan Halem's lap as he whispers obcenities in her ear.
Hmm... I thank you for your complementing me on my decor, Boris, not to mention my, as you so eloquently put it, sir, 'totty'.
[Motions for Sophie to come and kneel by his side. She obediently does so, in the manner of one who knows that disobeying this order will result in a homicidally stern reprimand.]
Pretty little thing, isn't she? She's one of my personal favourites... Acquired her around about the time I rebuilt Gentlemen's Club in The Realm Of The Lost. Took the talents of one of the world's most infamous bounty hunters to bring her in, but a simple tranquilizer dart in that elegant, swan-like neck of hers and she was out like a light. Then it was a simple case of binding her, gagging her, throwing her in one of my many dungeons and slowly breaking down her personality until she was obedient. Pretty standard practice, really.
[Motions to chained Juliet Landau.]
This one's a new addition. Very nice she is, too. I overlooked her talents for quite a while, but in the end it was that endearing Cockney accent of hers that inflamed my desire... Mmmm... Juliet Landau... My little Mockney sparrow... Show them, Juliet.
[Juliet, aware that something is expected of her, sits up]
Show them.
[Juliet looks confused. Sir Oliver grows impatient.]
TALK LIKE A GUTTERSNIPE, YOU LITTLE TART!
Juliet: [Adopts Cockey accent] Oooh, Spike! I am so cold, I am! Love a duck and strike a light! Apples and pears! Dog and bone! Postin' a letter! Scream did 'e? Scream as they skewered his catflap for want of a farthing! I'm a good girl I am!
[Oliver is satiated and rewards Juliet with a tender pat on the head.]
Charming, I think you'll agree.
Though, I must say that I'm rather envious of your little pet, there.
[Motions towards Ulga as he sips his brandy]
A most impressive set of... what's the word our American friends in the colonies are so fond of using? Vases?
Hmm... yes, indeedy...
[Contemplates things foul and perverse as he takes a deep drag on his cigarette.]
I hear there are some wonderful treatments for impotence these days. Try asking your doctor.
My My, thank you Mr GetHelp, and thank you also for taking an interest in the finer aspects of this life... here at the gentleman's club we appreciate fine wines, among stronger beverages resembling nail varnish remover.
Ooh reminds me... *begins to paint his finger nail's purple* we also appreciate good women *winks at Ulga* a ciggarette never killed anybody! ...I say Ulga could you, my hands are busy.
*Ulga sparks a ciggarette for Boris*
In the prime of our youth we do not require viagra... however when our time comes and we come closer to your withering age... I'm sure your advice will sure be of some use.
That said given my wreckless lifestyle I doubt I'll make it to 30!
Room applaud "Whaheey"
Anyway Sir Olly, I believe I'm in need of some "herbal refreshment" would you be interested in a sample this fine plant I had picked by Ulga from the southern shores of Morrocco?
Hmmm... A tempting offer, sir, but no... I've already sated my desire for hallucinagens this day...
[Stares blindly into the middle distance]
Ooooh... Heh heh... it's a tree...
whatever
*storms in and sits down with a flourish*
*sighs heavily*
*grabs the cold glass of Mountain Dew being offered by a delectible and scantily clad Christina Ricci*
Thank you, dear.
*sips daintily*
Ah, good beverages here at this new Getleman's Club. I say, this chain of Gentleman's Clubs was a wonderful idea Sir Oliver. I can see it now. One day there will be Gentleman's Club in every forum on the internet.
*gets a dreamy, far away look in the eye*
That's the dream, good sir, that's the dream...
[Sniffs] I just wish Baron Sharkenheim was here to see it...
[Bursts into tears]
Perhaps some day he may yet walk these green tinged halls again.
We can only hope. We can only hope... Oh, look at me... I've gone to peices...
[Wipes eyes with handkerchief, blows nose noisily.]
*gets more tissues*
*quietly chums the water for old times sake*
:: Lightning flashes:the club lights flicker & dim. The heavy, hand-carved mahogany door to the club swings open, revealing a menacing silhouette in the night. The club patrons gasp at the sudden intrusion and draw their weapons, ready to do battle with the grisly intruder. They lower their weapons when the good Cap'n emerges from the shadows, his garments soaked and tattered, the feather in his cap mangled. He stumbles into the parlor and drops to the floor. Too exhausted for words, he pulls a large black crayola from his pouch and etches a message on the hardwood floor: ::
" West Indies expedition went bad. Got swindled by some octo-whore named Ursula. Traded my beautiful singing voice to be transformed into a mer-folk, so I may pursue my one true love:Eric -err I mean Ariel: can't write anymore: too tired: ugh:"
KEEEPP SIIINGIIiNNNG!
:: Ursula's wicked words still echoing in his head, the Cap'n collapses. His loyal attendant, the lovely Kate Beckinsale, rushes to his side. Distraught, with tears of joy and heartache streaming down her face, she summons four fem-bots to carry him to his private quarters ::
Kate: "Oh:I am so relieved to see you alive, Captain."
Cap'n: ":nnnnnngghh:"
Kate: "Don't you worry, sir. I believe there is a copy of "The Little Mermaid" on laserdisc in the vault. We'll have your voice back in no time."
Cap'n: ":nnnnnngghh:"
Kate: "Everything will be just fine. What you need now is a brandy and a long bath. I shall personally wash you from head to toe."
Cap'n: ((smirks))
*staggers in drunk accompanied by obscure celtic punk music blasting from The Good Cap'n's pimped out galley*
Well it is good to have you back Cap'n.
Cap'n?
*falls over unconscious*
-----
: Kate snaps her fingers, four more fem-bots appear and scoop up the intoxicated Eater. They hurry him upstairs to the guest parlour, with instuctions to sober him up using a hydro-electric stomach pump, and a prototype diesel-powered anema-machine :
Geez, you have been away for a while. The design of the diesel-powered enema machine was perfected and has been available for sale comercially for quite some time. It's very popular among the Bankok lolita fetish crowd... or so I hear.
-----
RANDOM and SENSELESS
:: scoffs ::
HA! But MY prototype is turbochargeg, fuel-injected, and equipped with a turbofan afterburner for TOTAL fuel efficiency!
...you may feel a little pressure...
I thought that was the one we used. Maybe it wasn't fuel injected. Yeah, I remeber it getting flooded, so to speak.
Well, well, well, Cap'n. I must say I'm surprised to see you back again. Shame about the voice-stealing business, terrible shame.
Sophie!
[Olly clicks his fingers and Sophie races up to her master's side]
Fetch me another tall, cold glass of Coca-Cola, if you would m'dear. The Captain and I have a lot of catching up to do.
I'm seeing a lull in the speed of posting on all my favorite sites. It was only a matter of time...SkyNet is finally taking over...
:: snaps finger, the topless Kate Beckonsale prances to the Captain's side with his bottle of prescription paranoia pills ::
Kate: Yes sir?
Cap'n: dose me...
Kate: Yes sir...
:: Kate takes two pills from the bottle and wedges them between her perk and firm cleavage. She then gently leans over, pressing them against the Captain's face ::
Cap'n: mmmmphh...pills are...mmmpmmmphh...good...