Daftwager Twitter, Day 51: Fougambit’s Folly

Day 51:
Day 51:

00:00; Bleugh!

01:00; …

02:00; … ankle joint is connected to the shin-bone … shin-bone is connected to the knee-joint … the knee-joint is no longer connected to the thigh-bone … a large amount of medicinal gauze, & gin is required.

03:00; I am in a pit, of pain … “I once dug a pit and filled it with clouds… or was it clowns… come to think of it, it began to smell … must have been clowns. Clouds don’t smell, they taste of butter. And tears.”

04:00; Dear heavens, these amateur medics:”You call that breaking my spine?” Don’t they know how implant a spinal shunt? “The answer: use a gun. And if that don’t work? Use more gun.”

05:00; As my anatomy teacher used to say:”Be polite. Be efficient. Have a plan to kill everyone you meet.” What he’d say now: “Oooh, they’re gonna hafta glue you back together. In HELL!”

06:00; …

07:00; ‘Not allowed to commission a pistol that costs more than a sedan … When accepting a challenge for a duel, I must allow the other guy time to find a pistol … Thermonuclear hand grenades do not exist.’

07:10; ‘… When the other guy picks swords for the choice of weapons, that does not leave me pistols … The following weapons are not legal choices in a duel: Steamroller, Nerve Gas, Landmine, Midget …’

07:20; ‘… When challenged to a showdown, I’m meant to face him at 10 paces with pistols, not 10 blocks with a Sharpe’s Big .50 … If the gun can’t fit through the x-ray machine, it doesn’t go on the plane …’

07:30; ‘… If I can fit my head down the gun’s barrel, I can assume it doesn’t have the non-lethal option … When challenged to a high noon shoot-out, that means in the time zone I’m currently in …’

07:40; ‘… My personal carried firepower cannot exceed that of the Battleship Texas … Covering fire does not include nuclear weapons … I do not put the cad in decadent, nor the rave in depraved …’

07:50; ‘… Not legal to retroactively challenge anyone I just shot to a duel … I cannot have any gun that lets me kill the villain without being in at least an adjacent county … I will not ask my gun for advice …’

08:00; ‘… After a bloody battle, I will not celebrate by lying down and making carnage angels … No staking a vampire with anything larger than his chest cavity … I am not the Lord of Rodly Might …’

08:10; ‘… How to serve Dragons is not a cookbook … Plan B is not automatically twice as much gunpowder as Plan A … When surrendering I am to hand the sword over HILT first …’

08:20; ‘If the king rewards me with a forest, I am to assume he intends for me to keep it a forest … When I choose my wizard familar, Belgians are not a legal choice … I will not redefine the term ‘trapdoor’…’

08:30; ‘When confronted with a bleeding-wall haunted house, no converting it into a self supporting blood bank … I will not lay siege to Cinderella’s Castle … It is bad form for the queen to see my nipples …’

08:40; ‘It’s not necessary to install a portcullis in every single room of my castle … Search the old castle means enter it, not level it with artillery and dig through the rubble … No, there is not a Mr. Of Arc …’

08:50; ‘I will go into the villain’s lair and take him out the old fashioned way. Not just wait outside his favorite bar with a rifle … My doctor’s bag will contain more than just a bonesaw and a bottle of whiskey.’

09:00; -AAAAAAHH! My, that was a horrible dream. Having to work to ‘hero’s rules’. Waking to having my legs broken was a mild sedative by comparison.

09:10; Conveyed hither to La Pantalon Rouge, via impromptu palanquin by a goodly Paradigm & Shade, I have reclined thus since midnight. Now, to make sure my legs set correctly, they’re being rebroken.

09:20; A few hours after my ordeal should be too little time to necessitate the outright rebreaking of legs, but UNDEAD somewhat speeded up the process. Ironic, yes, but I am doped to the gills all the same.

09:30; Shade & Paradigm have departed thence *giggle* to deposit Excelsoar in the Vigil Alliance Vaults, but have promised sincerely to return, to keep an eye on me. *titter* Those dirty old flirts! *tiggler*!

09:40; Thus, the only medical administrator in Paris, other than myself, sufficiently experienced in supertrauma is none other than the French-Norwegian Count Zambillim Hammerskuld aka Doctor Fougambit!

09:50; Mother: Norwegian noble Countess. Father: Normandy mad Scientist. Fights utterly odd fellows like Dr Iotum State (he of the ghost generator) & Chevalier Augustus Acrophile (who taught me to fly).

10:00; Reminds me of me (a rare compliment gifted in sedated state) so Open watches him like Heisenberg. She hasn’t left my side since I returned. She is quite a bit more beautiful than I immediately recalled.

10:30; I take some light lunch, gain updates & give interviews to the French branches of Internationally popular magazines Play Time and Lady’s Geographic Companion for not inconsiderable sums of money.

11:00; Then the nice white noise again- ‘… Shooting is not too good for my enemies … I will not gloat over my enemies’ predicament before killing them … My ventilation ducts will be too small to crawl through. …’

11:10; ‘…When I’ve captured my adversary and he says, “Look, before you kill me, will you at least tell me what this is all about?” I’ll say, “No.” and shoot him … No, on second thought I’ll shoot him then say ‘No’…’

11:20; ‘… The hero is not entitled to a last kiss, a last cigarette, or any other form of last request … I will never utter the sentence “But before I kill you, there’s just one thing I want you to know.”…’

11:30; ‘… No matter how tempted I am with the prospect of unlimited power, I will not consume any energy field bigger than my head … I will not turn into a snake. It never helps …’

11:40; ‘… Once my power is secure, I will destroy all pesky time-travel devices … My Legions will be trained marksmen. Any who cannot learn to hit a man-sized target at 10 meters will be used for target practice…’

11:50; ‘… I will not procrastinate regarding any ritual granting immortality … My force-field generators will be located inside the shield they generate … I will not outsource core functions …’

12:00; ‘…I will classify my lieutenants in 3 categories: untrusted, trusted, and completely trusted. Promotion to the third category will be awarded posthumously …’ -ha! A wonderful dream! Cannon fire!? Curses!!!

12:10; I knew Sarko would crack! Open closes the shutters on the noise. Fougambit tests my healing capellas with a hammer 1/10th of the size of the one which rebroke my legs. I ‘accidently’ knee his crotch.

12:20; My, those phantom twitches. As a minor revenge, he attempts to mesmerise me. No doubt derived from my doped up debilitating condition, he asks me if there is anything he should know. Any secret.

12:30; A bad caper, done out of devilment & desperation; my speedy recovery makes redundant his presence here & yet is the mystery he stays to solve. Open looks thunderous;a judo chop for Zam’s neck.

12:40; I wave her off, partially because I am quite uncontrolled right now, not even by myself & partially because, if what I hear is true, he could give her ju-do what-for. I lean in, twinkling secrets, and I say:

12:50; ”The plastic caps on the ends of shoelaces are called aglets. Their true purpose is sinister.” Dr. Fougambit; furious! Then I place my hat upon my head, much missed yesterday & he tastes his medicine.

13:00; I tell him what he already knows: how he appeared to be abducted by aliens for the breadth of a moment, an experience that had a width of years for him. Of the strange technologies, Zam remembers.

13:10; How these extraterrestrials mapped physical diversity. Their elaborate holo-scanners & 3-dimensional imagers created muscle models of the physical body. Their projectors imposing these onto others.

13:20; Interested in Fougambit’s interest, their random baseline human male model engaged in experiments, studied their notes, operated rectal the thermometer. Why not; he was to have his memories erased.

13:30; Lucky for Fougambit, he pioneered the recesses of muscle memory into full-blown remembrance. He had no control over his wiped-mind, but his tendons hid & tended to ”preconscious recollections”.

13:40; Days after he was returned, his fingers, in the throes of a truly Alien Hand Syndrome, haphazardly built from memory the device to restore his memory. Not conscious recollection – ”informed instincts”.

13:50; Any action within human range; complex dances, playing instruments & of course the martial arts can, all be mapped. He also has a few applications for doing things no baseline human could ever learn.

14:00; He looks back. No mind reading capability, but he is still a doctor; those reflex tests weren’t for the good of my health. He deduces ‘mind-mapper’, with minimal help from his muscle mapper. Excellent.

14:10; I have given Fougambit UNDEAD, ostensibly for the good of the orphans (we laugh in unison) & also as a formula to further info-density & muscular-regen, on those extra ‘applications’ Zam develops.

14:20; Hard-bitten animosity for him aside, I have recently had an instrumental lesson in the importance of extra applications. Also, if he can’t block mind-reading by the time I return, I can steal his toys easily.

14:30; Fougambit departs. When I told him ‘Doctor I. Nation’ invented it, he laughed, like the others, goodnaturedly. Abientot to him.

14:40; Didn’t I explain? Well, I was busy the 1st time I met ‘Nation’, what with delirium & infirmity. Only appropriate I should mention it now, therefore: ‘Dr. I. Nation’ is a name equivalent to ‘Jesus H. Christ’.

14:50; ‘Doctor I. Nation’: idiotic parental appeal to The Indoctrination; a gestalt of the great doctors, incarnating into 1 doctor in a generation, giving knowledge in life &, in death adding him/her to their group.

15:00; Edward Jenner, Marie Curie, Henry Leibniz Von Vivisection; all medical greats have had the Indoctrination entity descend upon them, sometimes all their lives, sometimes for the single instant of insight.

15:10; Also, every generation, a handful of frustrated med-school floor-sweepings take their frustrations out on their children, pun-ishing their offspring with all the variations on Indoctrination deed poll allows.

15:20; It is yet another reason Nation’s past has been so murky. Not only does he not bear the name of his father, there are groups of equally insane people in bad science with ridiculously similar inane names.

15:30; ‘In Dock 3’ Nate Ion, Indigo C. Trination and the twins Indira Octrina Tion & Isobel ‘Doc’ Trina Tion; it is a cruel section of the phonebook. That I tore out & laugh at whenever I feel the melancholias.

15:40; Dr. I. Nation; of British descent, his accents & metachemical methodolgies imply he probably spent his youth in Communist China, parents taipan-traders before the century trade treaty ended in 1997.

15:50; Science: influenced by the Noble House style. Close-quarters combat: a trainee type of Beijing boxing gweilos learn. Plans: centred around winning parental ‘love’! Ha! This will be easier than I thought!

16:00; Open feeds me. I can keep things down, now & most of the throat damage is now manageable. Honestly tired now from all high-metabolism regeneration, I begin to doze, as she watches me, carefully.

16:10; Keats: ”I cry your mercy, pity. I love, merciful love that tantalises not, one-thoughted, never-wandering, guileless love, unmasked and being seen without a blot …”

16:20; Keats: “Oh let me have thee whole, all, all be mine, that shape, that fairness, that sweet minor zest of love, your kiss, those hands, those eyes divine ..”

16:30; Robert Graves: “Oh love, be fed with apples while you may, and feel the sun and go in royal array, a smiling innocent on the heavenly causeway …”

16:40; Thomas Moore: “Twas a new feeling, something more than we had dared to own before …”

16:50; John Dryden:”Farewell ungrateful traitor, farewell my perjured swain, let never an injured creature believe a man again. The pleasure of possessing, surpassing all expressing, but tis too-”

17:00; ”-short a blessing and love too long a pain!” Why, why, WHY must always dream in rhyme! Accursed villianous disorder! But, inextricably linked to the dream fabric is the germ of an infectious idea.

17:10; I advise Open to install BOREs throughout La Pantalon Rouge tasked to blanket-ban Excelsoar’s powers from working within. The BORE with his worksafe mindset I beat him with before, should do.

17:20; Should supers arrive for recreation, scan standard mindsets to block belligerent use of their abilities later. Open interrupts in asking why Dryden’s line spurred this. Prepare to lie – she is wearing my hat!

17:30; Try to emulate her; blocking her with thoughts of sexual nature. No soap; she runs a bordello. *Sigh* I admit Dryden’s lines of ‘perjured swains’ reminded me what losing her, in death, would do to me.

17:40; I try to lessen this blow with statements that I just happen to be biochemically addicted to her & the moment I can clone her mind & body … well it still wouldn’t be as interesting as she is. Blasted love!

17:50; Then she projects something back. She was playing with the hat in her care when I was returned to LPR in intensive care conditions; this feeling is what she felt when she saw me. It is long, deep & full.

18:00; A moment passes, then she blushes. A patent impossibility! But no! She seems to giggle at all the strange sexual positions I pictured while trying to block her reading of my mind. They were impossible!

18:10; This insult will not stand! Contrary to the content of public belief & certain Acts of Parliament, we Daftwagers do know the bounds of impossibility; it is far far beyond what you consider inconceivable!

18:20; Who, tutoring a Camden flowergirl, gave the later-Duchess-Falconmere her start? Who, while under fire, in the Sudan, trained ostriches to load, aim & fire Winchesters at enemy troops? A Daftwager!

18:30; Who, in seducing 6 Papish nuns in Rome, left 2 pregnant, 2 mad & 2 married? Who, on a dare, brought an elite French regiment to its knees, hands & bums with cocoa/emetic/laxatives? A Daftwager!

18:40; Who brokered peace with Martian invaders, then blew influenza in their eyes? Who exacted an oath from God, then forced him to spare a city? Not a Daftwager! But we won rights to say so. In a bet.

18:50; I summation, I caution Open to never underestimate a Daftwager, as the world is littered with well-buried bones of those who have done just that. Then, defying gravity, I float up, pulling Palm with me.

19:00; Anti-grav; 8 inverted ‘up’ BOREs, set into a 4 poster bed create a field of weightlessness. I designed it as a safety bubble, should La Pantalon Rouge’s rocket function ever again be required, & for sex.

20:00; & She called me Mad! Mad! Mu-hahaha-ad! My anti-gravity couches shall be the talk of the bordello world! Also: the only way to have sex without exacerbating my groin-strain injuries exponentially.

21:00; I lie awake on a rare occasion: Open falls asleep from our precocious coital play before me. I think anti-grav was new to her. By ‘new’, I mean ‘good’ &, at 1 point, our screams summoned marmosets.

21:10; Like all houses, LPR makes noises as it settles down for the night. Like all haunted houses, many of these noises are screams. Like in all 2 Pantalon franchise houses of desire, these screams are happy:

21:20; A woman’s voice, curled in fury, berates an unspeaking subject on the poor quality of the wall-hangings & lack of giant-worm-proof windows. The lady from Lady’s Geographic Companion never left.

21:30; A man’s voice, broken in humiliation (never tire of that tone!) pleads for mercy from an unheard tormentor who has found his dirty magazines. The laddy from Play Time Magazine apparently stayed on.

21:40; Their aural oscillations appear to be coming from different parts of the building … don’t seem to be interacting with each other … they better be paying cash for these fictional sadomasochistic scenarios.

21:50; They will be paying for this in coercion, of course. Wonderfully high fidelity reproduction on my recordings of their unreproductive infidelities should bag me some bally blackmail over these ‘scriveners.’

22:00; Fougambit didn’t leave either. *ughh* His roleplay includes a impersonating an alien medical droid. *shudder* Under no circumstances is my medical droid allowed a groin mounted rectal thermometer.

23:00; Finally, he stops. I can turn down morphine. Fougambit, worthy adversary, oft reminds myself of a young me. But only when youth refers idiocy. In senility, he is a few years older – Oh, he starts again!

00:00; As Fougambit’s second wind lists, I think of Top Hat, who also had a hat that could read minds, a cane that could fly, a cape that could apparate. I take … comfort … in ‘hedging my bets’ with others …


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