Post by RaceFanX on Jan 17, 2010 1:34:14 GMT -5
We're back after a long delay...
The British Airways 747 was off and London-bound but as the takeoff ended the scene shifted back to London.
Night had fallen over the iconic English city, bringing with it the flash of bright neon and nightlife the city is somwhat known for. In the theater district people line up to catch plays such as "Billy Elliott" and, oddly, "Legally Blonde: The Musical." For most, tonight was going to be a blast. But not everyone out that night had fun in mind. On a set of stairs leading into a building two pups, one a black lab and one a border collie, sit somewhat watching the world go by for a second before striking up a conversation.
"Well I suppose the obvious is how did you blow the first attempt at this planet," uttered Sigma.
"I ran into some unexpected interference from some of the local canines last time. The rural American area I was operating from had an unusally high dalmatian population. I thought they could be of great assistance, I could not have been more wrong," replied Epsilon.
"Think they will be a problem again," asked Sigma.
"Not in the slightest, they an ocean away. Not to mention the fact that I managed to play a very good death scene," replied Epsilon with somewhat of a smile.
"How in the world did you survive that anyway?" asked the lab.
"When the catwalk collapsed and I fell off the satellite transmitter I landed in such a way that I hit the remains of the dish itself and slid down it like a slide. As the rubble piled on I wound up stuck in a small crawl space filled with air. As much as I dispise humans, some did dig through the rubble and rescue me. I will hand it to their medical capabilites, I survived what should not have a survivable experience. They gave to a local farm family to nurse me back to health. It took a few months but my injuries healed."
"Sounds like you're starting to go soft toward this planet's human problem," replied Sigma.
"Not in the slightest, a few towns over in a place called Stifle they were going to hold a sheepdog herding contest. The family had a little boy that oh so wanted to enter me in it. Checked out a book from the local library and everything, he was training me at least two hours a day and I played a long a bit to avoid suspicion. With my greater intelligence, I easily won that contest and advanced to a "World Championship" in England. It seemed as good a time as any to escape them and I did. After all that studying and training, the boy knew so much about what it took to be a good little border collie he was the perfect choice to take my place. Fo the record he placed 7th out of 20, right behind some crazy sheep-herding pig. Really wasn't too bad for his first time with four legs. With him as the family dog I was easily able to sneak off."
"I must question your choice of London, this is one of the largest city's in the world. Would somewhere more remote have been better. From what I studied of Earth of somewhere more remote would have been better such as this place that's apparently called Suffolk," replied Sigma
"You always go for the obvious action Sigma, with all the hustle and bustle of this city we can pretty much operate undetected. The is an urban area of the UK, unlike my attempt in America very few people other than the police are armed, removing an serious human resistance. With all the hunters, a rural area would lower that advantage. Plus under the pre-assigned directives of this mission, London is perfect and we have a few days to gather our forces, make the proper arrangements and implement the plan. If we kept to the down low, do not even to recruit any local canines and do not draw attention to ourselves, like your stunt on the Isle of Dogs almost did, and we should easily succeed," Epsilon said.
"Like one less human will make a difference," replied Sigma smuggily.
"It's not the fact you transformed the boy, it's the fact you almost gave away our presence. With your lack of mental enhancement and my abilites in that area somewhat on the fritz since my fall we will have to be more secretive than my initial attack. We can only hope that boys' parents think his friends are crazy and that if the media gets a hold of it that it quickly devolves into debate and tabloid-level speculation that will kept them busy," said Epsilon before pausing to catch his breath. He continued.
"This country itself is ripe for conquest, they trimmed their defense budget greatly over the last several decades. Once we begin our attack it is unlike their armed forces will be able to stop us. Britannia shall literally heel in our presence. Heck, maybe we can get the Irish too while we're at it."
"Careful boss, according to the Earth research you sent people have underestimated this island as easy pickings before. Usually it hasn't well."
"A human named Claudius might dispute that. If we do this right, help for the humans is still at least 21 miles away. But enough talk, we need to start the preparations by scouting our locations. Come Sigma."
"Yes sir, it feels good to be working with you again."
The camera slows pans back revealing just what building they were talking in front of...the iconic Palace of Westminster, home of England's Parliament. The scene faded to black...
Light re-emerges into the scene with the sound of rushing air. A door slide open and a metal landing gear lowered into place , city lights visible below, as a white British Airways 747 came in for a landing at London's famed Heathrow Airport.
"British Airways One-Niner-Niner-Niner you are cleared to land," came a voice over the plane's radio.
"Roger," was the response of Captain Mitchell.
"What?," replied his co-pilot, a very tall man of African-decent wearing a nametag that "Roger Murdoch."
The widebody Boeing touched down on English soil and with an adjustment of the flaps and a blast of the thrust-reversers the big jet came to a stop.
Two hours later, the planes last passengers, five humans with a chicken and an entire kennel full of canines all on their leashes, or as the local English would call them "leads," had finally cleared customs. Like any vacationing family, it was off to the baggage claim and then the rental car counter. Roger had said he had arranged for something special. The pups were just glad to be off that plane.
"Thank God we are finally off that plane. The air on those things is so sterile, I feel like I can breath again," said Cadpig.
"I hear you there," replied Two-Tone. "That flight was only a few hours but with the time change and all it felt like it took seven months."
The group of dogs led by Grandpa started to lag behind as the older gentleman stopped to look at a large display of TV showing a 24-hour News type channel. The images on the screen showed a yellow Chevrolet Camaro being waxed in a car show enviroment as other preparations went on behind it.
"The London Car Exhibition will run through the end of next week...," read the news anchor.
"Yes, now that is a car. We have got to visit that show," said Patriot before it changed to another report showing the bombed out remains of a terrorist attack. The pups' moods flipped like a switch.
"Oh great more crap from Iraq...," Belchic said with a groan. The news anchor talked over the images.
"Terror stuck today in the ex-Soviet republic of Lanwatia when a bomb rigged to car detonated and killed local diplomat Igor Mikhailov. Mikhailov had been under investigation from his government at the time of his death for his possible embezzlement of the equilivant of 20 million pounds from the oil-rich nation..."
The pups began to walk away but something about the story caught the attention of one, the scarf-wearing Doc. The news continued.
"Mikhailov had no known ties to any terror groups and none have steped forward to claim responsility for his death. The only evidence in the case is a cryptic message oddly written in broken Spanish at the scene of the crime reading "Can es estrella vidas."
Suddenly something caught Doc's eye, a ghostly white dog in the background but the screen flipped to another story before he could discern anything more.
"When we come back from break, police in London are looking for a boy possibly abducted from the Isle of Dogs area today. His two friends, distaught to the point of borderline insanity from the incident, have proved little help to police although dark practices are believed to be involved. Are your children at the risk of ritual sacrifice?..."
The program thankfully cut to an ad for YORKIE candy bars as Grandpa began to lead the dogs to the baggage claim.
Moments later, after having claimed their baggage and ridden a shuttle bus to a rental car business, the Dearly were being served at the counter of AVIS rental car. the area has a distinct red-and-white motif to it.
"Hello I'm Roger Dearly I had made an arrangment for the use of a special vehicle for the next few days."
"Ah yes, Mr. Dearly, we've been expecting you. Here are your keys and your vehicle is in space J1 outside the building," replied the blonde female clerk in a red uniform.
The Dearly mob made their way out onto the lot, walking passed rows of Ford Mondeos, Renault Meganes, Mercedes E-Class sedans, Puegot 807s and even an Aston Martin or two. An then it came into site, towering over everything else in the AVIS lot. Sitting in space J1 was a double-decker AEC Routemaster bus, painted yellow and covered in black spots.
"What do you think, I made special arrangements and had it specially modified for us. I give you the Puppy Double-Decker Bus," said Roger proudly. "What do you think?"
"Kind of cool Uncle Roger," said Amber.
"It's different to say the least," replied Nanny.
"Well we needed a big vehicle so I figured what the hey."
"Roger, can we afford this?" asked Anita.
"Indeed we can, it's used. This bus use to do the No.7 route but then it got stolen and some deviant ran it into a lightpole. They were going to junk but I arranged to have it prepped for our use through a repair shop and the rental car company," replied Roger. "New paint, new tires, absolutely essential for any serious vacationing. Wait until you see what I arranged for our accomdations."
"You're definetly outdoing yourself son. This is either going to be really great or really disasterous," smerked Grandpa before boarding the bus. The pups followed and within minutes the custom bus was driving on a British "Motorway" and was headed for downtown London, the city was glittering in the distance. It would be a vacation none of the pups would ever forget...even if they wanted to.
The British Airways 747 was off and London-bound but as the takeoff ended the scene shifted back to London.
Night had fallen over the iconic English city, bringing with it the flash of bright neon and nightlife the city is somwhat known for. In the theater district people line up to catch plays such as "Billy Elliott" and, oddly, "Legally Blonde: The Musical." For most, tonight was going to be a blast. But not everyone out that night had fun in mind. On a set of stairs leading into a building two pups, one a black lab and one a border collie, sit somewhat watching the world go by for a second before striking up a conversation.
"Well I suppose the obvious is how did you blow the first attempt at this planet," uttered Sigma.
"I ran into some unexpected interference from some of the local canines last time. The rural American area I was operating from had an unusally high dalmatian population. I thought they could be of great assistance, I could not have been more wrong," replied Epsilon.
"Think they will be a problem again," asked Sigma.
"Not in the slightest, they an ocean away. Not to mention the fact that I managed to play a very good death scene," replied Epsilon with somewhat of a smile.
"How in the world did you survive that anyway?" asked the lab.
"When the catwalk collapsed and I fell off the satellite transmitter I landed in such a way that I hit the remains of the dish itself and slid down it like a slide. As the rubble piled on I wound up stuck in a small crawl space filled with air. As much as I dispise humans, some did dig through the rubble and rescue me. I will hand it to their medical capabilites, I survived what should not have a survivable experience. They gave to a local farm family to nurse me back to health. It took a few months but my injuries healed."
"Sounds like you're starting to go soft toward this planet's human problem," replied Sigma.
"Not in the slightest, a few towns over in a place called Stifle they were going to hold a sheepdog herding contest. The family had a little boy that oh so wanted to enter me in it. Checked out a book from the local library and everything, he was training me at least two hours a day and I played a long a bit to avoid suspicion. With my greater intelligence, I easily won that contest and advanced to a "World Championship" in England. It seemed as good a time as any to escape them and I did. After all that studying and training, the boy knew so much about what it took to be a good little border collie he was the perfect choice to take my place. Fo the record he placed 7th out of 20, right behind some crazy sheep-herding pig. Really wasn't too bad for his first time with four legs. With him as the family dog I was easily able to sneak off."
"I must question your choice of London, this is one of the largest city's in the world. Would somewhere more remote have been better. From what I studied of Earth of somewhere more remote would have been better such as this place that's apparently called Suffolk," replied Sigma
"You always go for the obvious action Sigma, with all the hustle and bustle of this city we can pretty much operate undetected. The is an urban area of the UK, unlike my attempt in America very few people other than the police are armed, removing an serious human resistance. With all the hunters, a rural area would lower that advantage. Plus under the pre-assigned directives of this mission, London is perfect and we have a few days to gather our forces, make the proper arrangements and implement the plan. If we kept to the down low, do not even to recruit any local canines and do not draw attention to ourselves, like your stunt on the Isle of Dogs almost did, and we should easily succeed," Epsilon said.
"Like one less human will make a difference," replied Sigma smuggily.
"It's not the fact you transformed the boy, it's the fact you almost gave away our presence. With your lack of mental enhancement and my abilites in that area somewhat on the fritz since my fall we will have to be more secretive than my initial attack. We can only hope that boys' parents think his friends are crazy and that if the media gets a hold of it that it quickly devolves into debate and tabloid-level speculation that will kept them busy," said Epsilon before pausing to catch his breath. He continued.
"This country itself is ripe for conquest, they trimmed their defense budget greatly over the last several decades. Once we begin our attack it is unlike their armed forces will be able to stop us. Britannia shall literally heel in our presence. Heck, maybe we can get the Irish too while we're at it."
"Careful boss, according to the Earth research you sent people have underestimated this island as easy pickings before. Usually it hasn't well."
"A human named Claudius might dispute that. If we do this right, help for the humans is still at least 21 miles away. But enough talk, we need to start the preparations by scouting our locations. Come Sigma."
"Yes sir, it feels good to be working with you again."
The camera slows pans back revealing just what building they were talking in front of...the iconic Palace of Westminster, home of England's Parliament. The scene faded to black...
Light re-emerges into the scene with the sound of rushing air. A door slide open and a metal landing gear lowered into place , city lights visible below, as a white British Airways 747 came in for a landing at London's famed Heathrow Airport.
"British Airways One-Niner-Niner-Niner you are cleared to land," came a voice over the plane's radio.
"Roger," was the response of Captain Mitchell.
"What?," replied his co-pilot, a very tall man of African-decent wearing a nametag that "Roger Murdoch."
The widebody Boeing touched down on English soil and with an adjustment of the flaps and a blast of the thrust-reversers the big jet came to a stop.
Two hours later, the planes last passengers, five humans with a chicken and an entire kennel full of canines all on their leashes, or as the local English would call them "leads," had finally cleared customs. Like any vacationing family, it was off to the baggage claim and then the rental car counter. Roger had said he had arranged for something special. The pups were just glad to be off that plane.
"Thank God we are finally off that plane. The air on those things is so sterile, I feel like I can breath again," said Cadpig.
"I hear you there," replied Two-Tone. "That flight was only a few hours but with the time change and all it felt like it took seven months."
The group of dogs led by Grandpa started to lag behind as the older gentleman stopped to look at a large display of TV showing a 24-hour News type channel. The images on the screen showed a yellow Chevrolet Camaro being waxed in a car show enviroment as other preparations went on behind it.
"The London Car Exhibition will run through the end of next week...," read the news anchor.
"Yes, now that is a car. We have got to visit that show," said Patriot before it changed to another report showing the bombed out remains of a terrorist attack. The pups' moods flipped like a switch.
"Oh great more crap from Iraq...," Belchic said with a groan. The news anchor talked over the images.
"Terror stuck today in the ex-Soviet republic of Lanwatia when a bomb rigged to car detonated and killed local diplomat Igor Mikhailov. Mikhailov had been under investigation from his government at the time of his death for his possible embezzlement of the equilivant of 20 million pounds from the oil-rich nation..."
The pups began to walk away but something about the story caught the attention of one, the scarf-wearing Doc. The news continued.
"Mikhailov had no known ties to any terror groups and none have steped forward to claim responsility for his death. The only evidence in the case is a cryptic message oddly written in broken Spanish at the scene of the crime reading "Can es estrella vidas."
Suddenly something caught Doc's eye, a ghostly white dog in the background but the screen flipped to another story before he could discern anything more.
"When we come back from break, police in London are looking for a boy possibly abducted from the Isle of Dogs area today. His two friends, distaught to the point of borderline insanity from the incident, have proved little help to police although dark practices are believed to be involved. Are your children at the risk of ritual sacrifice?..."
The program thankfully cut to an ad for YORKIE candy bars as Grandpa began to lead the dogs to the baggage claim.
Moments later, after having claimed their baggage and ridden a shuttle bus to a rental car business, the Dearly were being served at the counter of AVIS rental car. the area has a distinct red-and-white motif to it.
"Hello I'm Roger Dearly I had made an arrangment for the use of a special vehicle for the next few days."
"Ah yes, Mr. Dearly, we've been expecting you. Here are your keys and your vehicle is in space J1 outside the building," replied the blonde female clerk in a red uniform.
The Dearly mob made their way out onto the lot, walking passed rows of Ford Mondeos, Renault Meganes, Mercedes E-Class sedans, Puegot 807s and even an Aston Martin or two. An then it came into site, towering over everything else in the AVIS lot. Sitting in space J1 was a double-decker AEC Routemaster bus, painted yellow and covered in black spots.
"What do you think, I made special arrangements and had it specially modified for us. I give you the Puppy Double-Decker Bus," said Roger proudly. "What do you think?"
"Kind of cool Uncle Roger," said Amber.
"It's different to say the least," replied Nanny.
"Well we needed a big vehicle so I figured what the hey."
"Roger, can we afford this?" asked Anita.
"Indeed we can, it's used. This bus use to do the No.7 route but then it got stolen and some deviant ran it into a lightpole. They were going to junk but I arranged to have it prepped for our use through a repair shop and the rental car company," replied Roger. "New paint, new tires, absolutely essential for any serious vacationing. Wait until you see what I arranged for our accomdations."
"You're definetly outdoing yourself son. This is either going to be really great or really disasterous," smerked Grandpa before boarding the bus. The pups followed and within minutes the custom bus was driving on a British "Motorway" and was headed for downtown London, the city was glittering in the distance. It would be a vacation none of the pups would ever forget...even if they wanted to.