Legion World Forums LEGION OUTPOST Bits o' Legionnaire Business Numf & Sonnie Go To Hell On A Pushbike

Shocked awake, Numf sits up, looking for a retreating toad. He's glad to find out that it was just a dream.

Lying in a sandy, dusty ditch at the side of a yellow brick road is not really condusive to a good nights sleep.

After wandering off in the dawns early light for his morning piss, he returns to find Sonnie lying in a tuft of grass, snoring slightly.

bbbzzzzZZZZzzzzzz bbbzzzzZZZZZZzzzzzz bbbzzzz......

Numf sits himself down and thinks. There's no hurry, he's got his whole death ahead of him. But he doesn't plan to waste another day standing around waiting for some pillock to come up with a means of communicating with his brother. It's just far too boring a way to pass the time.

...ZZZZZzzzz bbbzzzzZZZZZZZzzzzzz bbbbzzzz...........

Numf sits and thinks some more. Four hours pass before Sonnie rouses himself from his slumber. It's now almost lunchtime (early for Sonnie), but there's not a hell of a lot for them to eat around here.

So Numfy gets on the bike and they continue down the road.

---------------------

Half way through the afternoon a thought sneaks into Numfs brain and, finding no-one of a similar mind to converse with, kicks Numf in the back of the eye-ball.
Numfs hands instinctively grab ahold of his face as he screams. And thus, having let go of the handlebar with both hands, he veers off the road and crashes into the ditch.

"Harbi!" he cries instinctively, as he feels the pain of bumps and scrapes.

Almost immediately he realises that his good friend is not going to be able to help him here. She's not going to be here to bind his wounds and kiss his bruises better. Big fucking kid that he is. But he still feels the loss.

And then something else dawns on him. Pain.
It's the first time since he arrived in this realm that he has felt pain. He wishes that he'd thought quickly enough to arrange for the invincibility part of his ultra powers to be present.

So, they'd obviously passed beyond the boundaries of heaven. If pain was on the go here then he'd have to be a bit more careful. A bit less blasé about the whole thing.

He explains this to Sonnie, and then explains the thought that had caused all the pain in the first place.

Snoring.
Numf had heard Sonnie snoring. Which was just your basic vibration, wasn't it?
So, maybe if Sonnie were to try vibrating at different frequencies he might make different sounds. And by modulating these frequencies they might be able to communicate.

'Aye, right!' thinks Sonnie. [For any etomologists in the audience please note the only instance known of two positives going together to produce a negative.]
'You want me to be a vibrator? Up your f ....... no, you're my brother, lets not finish that thought. Not even in jest.'

Over the course of the next few days Sonnie becomes much better at modulating his frequency, to the extent that he's almost intelligible. The basics are there at least, but he has problems with stringing together sentences for now.

The pleasant land through which they find themselves travelling takes a turning for the agricultural, and Numf manages to find a few crops that are edible. A couple of orchards, a vineyard or two. But after a while he gets bored of fruit (fussy bugger that he is.) He reckons that it gives him a dose of the squits, and judging from the smell that follows him for a few days he could be right.

So he decides to rig up a means of cooking vegetables.
But he's buggered if he knows how.
He finds an igneous rock about the size of his head and sets about trying to hollow it out for boiling water in.
But all he manages to do is break his nails.

He could leave it in a stream for a couple of hundred years and hope it hollows out naturally.......

As he sits there, staring intentely at the rock, something quite astonishing happens.
The spot he's staring at starts to smoke. And burn.
Numf steps back in amazement and blinks. The smoke stops.
He then stares again, concentrating once more. The smoke starts up again. He continue to stare.
The smoke shows up a pair of red beams coming, I'm sure you've guessed, from Numfs eyes.

"I reckon I must have got that from Mum," he mutters to himself.

"I gezzz zzzzo," replies Sonnie, hovering nearby.

Quickly Numf manages to hollow out a crude receptacle to house some veggies.
He then builds a campfire, fills the 'pan' with water from the river (which is still within walking distance), and then they both leave everything while they go and find something to cook.

And are most surprised to meet an old friend of theirs.

As they saunter merrily down the yellow brick road, Numf whistling tunelessly and Sonnie buzzing in a completely different tuneless manner, they happen across a crossroads.

If it's angry would they happen across a cross crossroads?

Whatever.

On their left there is a small field, with rows upon rows of ripe yellow corn.

"Pity I don't have any butter," says Numf to himself as he vaults over the fence.

As he picks himself off the ground he wishes that he'd noticed the "Warning - 10,000V" sign. That hurts!

The numfster swears under his breath, in case there are any young ladies listening.

"Twattwattwat!" squawks a big black crow, sitting on one of the wooden support struts. It is obviously aimed at Numf. Almost as if it is laughing at him.

Numf stands there amazed. This must be the first animal they've seen since arriving in this strange land.

"Hmmmmm Rook pie!" he thinks to himself, the prospect of protein rather than just vegetables spurring him on.

His attempts at sneaking up on the rook surrupticiously fail terribly. In fact the crows friends all break into laughter filled insults as their friend flutters easily out of reach.

There, in a line, sit half a dozen crows. On a cloth covered beam set at roughly the height of corn. With a silly camouflaged hat perched on top.

"Ah saw a peanut stand..."
"Heard a rubber band....."

sing the crows.

"Ah saw a needle that winked its aaaaaarrrghhh!!!!!"

This last scream happens as Sonnie crashes through them all at lightning speed, providing the perfect filling for Numfs intended pie. Where he's going to find suitable puff pastry around here he hasn't even thought about yet.

"Thanks Sonnie!" says Numf, as the original laughing crow flies quickly away, checking behind constantly in case he's being chased. Not laughing quite as much.

" ' aaanng 'ooo," floats through the air.

"Are you getting a cold there Sonnie?"

"Nottt meeeee zzzzz!" comes the buzzy reply.

Numfs eyes search around, and eventually alight on the scarecrow. He walks slowly through the corn to where the crows lie on the ground.

He looks up at the scarecrow towering above him.

"Those combat trousers look familiar. Without the white streaks and smell of chicken shit though!" Numf steps back and looks again.

"Cheee ken zheet!" says Sonnie, somewhat to Numfs amusement.

"They're mine!" says the numfster in surprise to anyone who happens to be listening.

"My nnnn!" comes a voice from the pile of cloth.

"That's my bloody jacket too! And shirt! And that's my army helmet sitting on the upright! What in hells name are they doing here!" asks Numf.

Hanging limply as they are from the scarecrow frame it's not very likely that there's someone hiding in them. But still the voice replies. "My clo's. Fffffff koff!"

"Wait a minute. I don't recognise your voice, yet you're wearing my clothes. Who are you?" asks Numf, still very confused. A scarecrow? He's never given any of his clothes away to a farmer before, so what are they doing here?

"I hero. Save you lifes!" comes the reply. "Man a' gate say I call 'Condom Man' in his book."

"Johnny Man! What are you doing here?" asks Numf as he pulls the limp figure off of the framework. A smile now plays across Numfs face. "I thought you had to have a soul to get into this place."

Condom Man is by now spread out flat on the ground beside the dead(er?) crows.

"I wonder if it's because Harbi has given you posthumous membership to Legionworld?? I wonder if you were automatically given a soul then," says Numf.

"Zoundzzz good," agrees Sonnie.

"Best decoy we've ever had," says Numf to himself. He searches in the clothes for anything he can find to re-inflate CM.

But all he can find is the lightning scorched remains of old condoms. Not even with the best will in the world is there any way that they can blow them up again.

"What are we going to do with you?" asks Numf, scratching his head.

"Don't know," came the reply. "But please don't kill me again."

Fantastic! Condom Man!! So who you got as the Tin Man and the Cowardly Lion?

M.. oh you know what I'm going to say

....ummmm.............

Ohmygod,

Much work is done over the next few days.
Trial and error. More error than trial it has to be said.

"I guess we're going to have to re-christen you, Johnny-bag Man," says Numf, standing looking proudly at his creation. There in front of him stands life's first totally vegetable human. Numf has even washed the clothes which CM wears - which is more than he normally does with his own.

Using the corn growing around him, and lashing them together with leaves, the basic human framework was produced. Sonnie managed to utilise his shape to become a needle, magically pulling long blades of grass through behind him to sew joints together. Moveable joints.

Since the soul of Condom Man is (probably) located within the broken condoms these are sewn together inside the framework, thus providing the spark required to move.

A head made of corn looked absolutely ridiculous, so Numf had gone on a hunt to find something better.
And had found a pumpkin. Into which he cuts a face using his laser vision. Unfortunately for CM it looks like it was cut by a five year old.

Numf places it on top of the neck. All chuffed with himself.

"Just as long as you stop calling me Johnny-bag Man," CMs head says.

"What do you think of 'Corn-dom Man' ," Numf asks. In all seriousness.

"Get a grip!" explodes CM.

"Pizzzzzz offfff!" buzzes Sonnie.

"Okay then, you come up with a name," says Numf. " Cos Condom Man doesn't really fit any more, does it."

And off he goes in a strop, muttering under his breath, "Should have stayed back home on the farm, should have listened to my old man."
And something that sounds like "Sagga fraggin Rick Rastardry!"

.
.
.
.
"If you owned a block of flats you could be Condominium Man ? ........"

"Nope."

.
.
.
.
"Get religious training and become Communion Man? ......"

"Nope."
.
.
.
"Take over a gameshow on Channel 4 and be Countdown Conundrum Man?. . . ."

"mmmmmm...."

"Really?

"Nope."
.
.
.
.
"I know! I know! We could toast you and you would be..."

"Cornflake Man - don't even fucking think it!"
.
.
.

Cornucopia, Cornish Pastie, Corpuscle and Constipated Man are similarly cast into the pit of un-usable names.

.
.
.
.
"I guess it's back to the good old faithful Johnny-bag Man," says Numf.

JbM shakes his head in shame.

"Or you could shorten it to just Bagman.
"mmmmm that rings a bell! Na na na na na na na na BAGMAN!"

JbM cries.

BAGMAN!!! Another dead LMBPer rises - and as the scarecrow from Wizard of Oz

Happy birthday for tomorrow Ken, ya's from all down here.

Bugger off - you'll be telling me that there's a Shoe Lass, a Belt Boy and a Miss Accessory next! Or are you secretly two out of those three?

Ohmygod, Mr. Ghostly Numfie, there's no call for you to be mean to Miss Harbinger like that. Especially after she just bought you such a nice Present.

You should say you're sorry.

And anyway Shoe Lass and Miss Accessory should show up in yer story soon. I don't know about Belt Boy is he one of Lash's altID's?

But anyway have you played that dead guy's CD she gave you yet?

Oh and I forgot, I wanted to ask this for a while now: What's a "Johnny Bag"?

Sooorrrrrryyyy B. And EG for obviously offending you with my rudeness.

Guess that's me put in my place.

Rick Springfield's not dead, is he? Or are you trying to say that Harbi killed someone to get it?
And, yes I've played it, and yes I thoroughly enjoyed it too!

As for "Johnny Bag" - it's obviously a bag for keeping Johnny in.

Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeere's Jahnny!

"Wotzzzz up zzzz?" asks Sonnie of the crying JbM.

"Oh, I wish I could think up a good name for myself," says JbM through the snot and tears. "'Cos Numf's driving me mental with his inane banter. But I can't. 'Cos I don't have a brain."

"Well," pipes up Numf who was within lugging-in distance. "You know what you can do about that, don't you?"

Under certain lighting, and from certain angles it is possible to imagine a look of anticipation on JbMs pumpkin face. But really, it's just a badly cut out pumpkin face. And it does take a lot of imagination. Maybe if you half close your eyes .... Or maybe it just has something to do with the head not being on straight.

After a pause to let the hope build up, Numf ejaculates, "Nothing! I could find some turnip and fill your head with that! But would that be any better? No. So get used to it. You haven't got a brain!"

"Wotzz up wizzz you?" asks Sonnie, a bit confused at Numfs strange outburst.

"Who me? Nothing! We've spent the best part of four days sewing the bugger together. Makin' a heid. Waashin' my claes. Makin' sure he's got a boady for his soul to live through. Those bloody craws that I was going to make into a pie are a' loupin' wi maggots now. I'm Lee-bloody-Marvin an' could do with a skinfull. An' all that whinin' arsed useless scarecraw can do is complain that ahm speakin' pish. What a nerve! Not even a 'thanks-for-lettin-me-keep-your-clothes'. Here wis me thinkin' he's some kinda hero.........."

And off Numf humfs.

JbM cries some more.

If Sonnie had a head he would shake it.

<span style="font-size: 20px;">Ohmygod! Mr. Ghostlie Numfie, You Put That Away, Right Now!</span>

Numf is bored and pissed off.

He isn't sure if he is pissed off because he is bored, or bored because he is pissed off.

He knows he's acted childishly, but doesn't particularly care. That probably has something to do with the bored / pissed off thing too. But he doesn't care.

He wanders around kicking mushrooms for a while and then finds a log to sit on.

------Interlude-------

I'd just like to point out to all and sundry that writing in the present tense is a pain in the arse.
I wish I'd never bloody well started. But now that I've started I've kinda got to continue. The number of times that I've had to go back over things I've written and change things from past tense to present tense! So if I've slipped up anywhere I apologise.

Humf!
Bah humbug!
And Bah mint imperials too!

-------Interlude over---------

Elbows on knees, chin nestled in palms he sits there sighing deeply.

Perhaps it is just a touch of self administered executive relief he needs? Maybe that would cheer him up a bit. He was a born-again Onanist after all, but he'd been sadly lacking in his devotions recently.

But, before he could say "Heeeeeeeeeere's Jahnny!" his boredom is interrupted.

By a rather large stone bouncing off the side of his head.

It's a bugger when that happens innit?

More, more, more!

"For pitys sake, Johnny B, there's nae need for that!!" screeches Numf in pain, with his ears ringing.

In reply he hears something along the lines of "Leave my fork and mushrooms alone you soaker of Satans big fat hairy cork!", which makes absolutely no sense to him. "Get that big horny red poker of his down your gullet!"

Numf turns to look at his assailant, who is standing to his right, in the shadow of some large trees. It's a mid sized man, dressed completely in black. From head to feet. Long black coat, black shirt, black jeans, black cowboy boots. On his head is a black cowboy hat. Long lank, black hair tumbles out from under his hat, and he could clearly do with a shave.

Rubbing his head Numf looks at the man, who appears to be miming sucking a great big, two handed ......... And making the most horrible, loud, Satanic sound effects.

Ah, it hadn't been soaking corks, had it? And it probably wasn't a poker he'd mentioned either, was it? And as for the fork .....
Oooh - that's a bit rude!

As he moves out of the shadows towards Numf the strange insulting man looks oddly familiar.

As the blurred double vision and the ringing in his ears subside Numf finally recognises the man who stands before him.

But why would Johnny Cash be throwing stones at him?

As his black clothed assailant stops his Satanic cork soaking impersonation and bends down to pick up another large stone to throw at Numfy, Numf stands up slowly and puts his arms in the air - the universal sign for surrender.

"Look, Johnny, I don't want to fight you, but you've got to know that if you throw that stone at me you'll be eating your own gonads for your supper!" Numf warns, walking slowly forwards, across the light dappled clearing in the woods where he had found himself.
He stops suddenly, when his saliva glands run into overload.

"Mmmmm, supper. Gawd, ahm starvin', man! Ah was makin' some soup earlier when I had to help Condom Man. And that was about 4 an' a half days ago! Ahm ravenous! Look - do you fancy going halfies on some soup? I'll provide the veggies and do the cooking, if you want to gies some of your mushies! I love mushies, me. We

could have mushie and vegetable soup! It was gonna be craw, but they're crawlin' wi' maggots by now......"

And on and on he yatters. His accent getting broader and broader and he talks faster as his brain gets further and further into the Food Zone. Almost as if he's musing to himself unaware that there's anyone listening ........

".... it's jist a pity we canna get a puckla rowies ti dunk in it ....."

"WTF are you talking about, you strange little man. Have you been eating my mushrooms already, and started speaking in tongues? I've been waiting a long time for them to mature, and then you come along and destroy them! You bastard!" and with that JC pulls his arm back ready to throw.

"Naw, hud on!" shouts Numf, his flow interrupted, stopping with the forward movement. "Ah proamise we kin mak an awfy fine soup!" he says in what has turned into a stereotypical Scottish accent - a bit like Spud from Trainspotting.

"Do you speak English?" asks the rock throwing person. "I recognise a small number of words - but then it's possible that 'soup' means something different in your tongue."

"Fit?" asks Numf in surprise. "Coursafuckinspikinglishmin! Are you deef or jist feel?"

"Zzzorrrry!" comes a buzz. "Hee'zz from ZZcotland."

"Whoa! Fuck!" Our man in black drops to the ground and covers his head with his arms. After counting slowly to ten he peers out from under his arms. "It's just a hallucination, it's just a hallucination...." he mutters to himself like a mantra.

"Zzlow down, zpeek nizely to the man," Sonnie instructs Numf.

"So no 'himmin fit's wrang yi gype?'" Numf asks.

"No."

"Excuse me my good man," says Numf, in his poshest southern-English, marbles-in-mouth accent. "Would you please be so kind as to tell me what your problem may be?"

"Talking flying diamond - big scary man with pumpkin head! Hallucinating, hallucinating, hall ...... oh, wait a minute, how could I be .........." he says, voice trailing off into confusion.

"No, my good Mr. Cash, you are by no means hallucinating. The diamond is my brother, Sonnie, and the large pumpkin-headed creature is Condom Man aka Johnny-bag Man. We're trying to come up with a slightly better moniker for him. And I myself am Numf-El aka Numf, Numfy, the numfster etc. And I was offering to make some vegetable and mushroom soup, if you'd be so kind as to provide some of your delicious looking mushrooms."

From his prone position Mr. Cash looks up at Numf. "I've got some questions for you....." he says tentatively.

"But lets start with - why did you just call me Mr. Cash?"

"'Cos you're Johnny Cash!" states Numf with a big broad smile, almost as if he's expecting a crisp £5 note for spotting the mystery shopper.

"No I'm not! Oh no, does that mean that Johnny Cash is dead? I don't suppose we'll run into him up in this part of the afterlife though, will we?"

"Wait a minute, if you're not Johnny Cash who are you?" asks Numf.

A cliffhanger again!!! Oh who is he? My first thought was wayne Hussey making a return appearance but I don't think he's dead so am left stumped!

More, more, more!

"I knowz! I knowz!" says Sonnie, bobbing up and down like a little boy trying not to pee himself with excitement.
"Bill Hickzzzzzz. You're Bill Hickzzzzz!"

"Bleedin' 'ell, so you are! Sorry Bill - I didn't recognise you with all that hair," apologizes Numf.

One of the greatest unsung comic geniuses of the last 50 years stands there, quite pleased that someone has recognised him. Even if it is a flying buzzing diamond.

"Yeah," he drones softly in his Southern USA accent. "I always kinda wanted long hair, but I've been forced into having it this way because there aren't any barbers out here in purgatory." Bottom lip sticks out in a typical Hicks pose.

Condom Man stands silently - not having the foggiest idea who Bill Hicks is.

"Go on - tell us a joke then!" says Numf enthusiastically.

"But I'm not that kind of comedian - I make observational jokes, not one-liners!" Bill counters.

"Aw - go on," pleads Numf.

"Okay, just this once - but on the proviso that you make some of that soup that you mentioned," Bill says, waiting for the confirmational head nod from Numf before proceeding.
"I went into my local library and asked for a book about suicide. The librarian told me to piss off because I'd never take it back."

Sonnie buzzes happily to himself.
"'s not funny," mutters Numf to himself.
"What's a library?" asks Condom Man.

"And that's why I don't tell jokes, because 2 out of 3 people are too stupid to understand them," says Bill. "But it's a joke, it's funny, you're still owe me soup."

As they all head back to where Numf has left the bike and cooking utensils, they talk some. Numf has a pumpkin and several corn cobs in his arms. Bill has a pocket full of mushrooms.

"So, what are you doing out here on your own, Bill? You're the first sign of life we've come across apart from CM since we left Heavens walls."

"Well, you see, I actually got into heaven. It turns out that David Koresh was at a gig I did in Austin Texas and got an idea about a question to allow entry. Something else else to do with getting like minded individuals into the heavenly realms. I think he was bored up here. So, I knew the answer already," Bill states for the prosecution.
"I wandered around for years on end, trying to find the heaven that I know really exists. Tried all the roller coasters, waltzers, etc. Searched under each and every one of the Magic Mountains. Nothing!
"I even managed to sneak into the big white fairy castle. You should see the people they've got looking after them! That's another reason I wanted out of there."

Sonnie nods to himself at this point.

"But that place is just candy floss and big black mouse ears. It's false. It's wrong. It's a fascia. See, God is love - and that isn't love. It sure is some kinda fun, but it's not love. And I know, 'cos I searched every corner of that playground."

"Yeah, but what does it matter, if you can live life - well, death - laughing and giggling and excited 24 hours a day?" asks Numf.

"That's okay, if you're a shallow individual. Wheeeeee! Adrenalin rush! Queue for four days for a two minute ride!.......Wheeeee! etc. etc. For the rest of eternity?"

"There have been times that I would have crawled across broken glass for four days - and back - on my hands and knees for the sniff of a two minute ride!" interupts Numf.

"Goat Boy's with you there, Numf!" agrees Bill with a quick Goat Boy glint in his eye. "But that's not the point. A bit of fun and games is all great and good - but it isn't enough. It does not fulfil. It is not soul food."

"Why not?" buzzes Sonnie.

"It's like reading comic books all day, playing video games or watching TV. A lot of people may think it is, but it's not real!" Bill argues.

"What's wrong with reading comic books all day?" Numf asks for all the viewers out there in the crossover Comic Book / computer world.

"Nothing," says Bill quickly, realising that he loses his audience if he continues much further with this BLASPHEMY!

"But once you know that there's a real world out there, the comic books are less convincing. Maybe not less fun, but less convincing. And if you want to escape with the rollercoaster rides, then that's fine. But it's not enough for me. So I'm out here trying to find what's real. Trying to find the God that I know has to be out here. The God of Love.
"So, how about you? Heading for the Ruby City, I take it. Hoping to see the wizard."

"Wizzzzzzzzard?" asks Sonnie.

"Yeah, the Wonderful Wizard of Ooze," confirms Bill. Staring round at the expressionless faces (well, Sonnie and CM were there already, and it doesn't take long for Numfs face to follow his brain when it shuts down), he goes on.
"Don't tell me that no-one told you?"

"We haven't really spoken to anyone much since we arrived. Except for Peter and Judas..." says Numf.

"Ah well, I have a story for you, then.........."

Bill tells our two travellers and one newly joined party about stroppy Jesus taking over the running of heaven.
He also tells them that the very same day Ruby City appeared out of nowhere, almost as if it had simply grown out of the ground. It was called Ruby City because it, well, appears to made of ruby. Not lots of little rubies, but rather carved out of one gigantic one.

It would appear that God had built himself a new home, and resides there away from the noise of the funfair.
There are rumours about what goes on there, that God practices magic in his spare time.
And a bit of flower arranging too.

However, with Jesus trying to create a new type of heaven the last thing he'd wanted to hear was people moaning on about how it had been better when his Dad had run the business. So he'd banned the name 'God'. No-one was to use it. On pain of ......... ummmm .......losing their place in the queue?
So, anyway, that was where the term 'wizard' had come from - a means of not saying 'God', but obviously referring to someone with a few tricks up his sleeve.

The city is surrounded on all sides by huge walls - smooth, featureless, towering. Sloping ever so slightly outwards, so that climbing is well nigh impossible, and dropping objects from the top is delightfully easy. There is one massive red door in its side, where entrance can be sought.

Architecturally it looks like an ancient castle. Except much larger and redder.

And of course the yellow brick road had turned up at the same time, all the way down to the Land Of Ooz .

"So, why haven't you headed there yourself?" asks Numf.

"Well, that was where I was headed when I found the field of mushrooms. And I guess that I realised that I had the rest of my death to actually get to Ruby City, so I just stopped for a while. Haven't got around to carrying on again yet."

They arrive at the makeshift campsite, where Numf hurries on making the soup.

Condom Man rather quickly heads off for some space to himself, having heard enough of his fellow vegetables screaming as the water gets hotter and hotter. No -one else can hear this, of course.
CM also states for the record that they can't possibly expect him to eat the stuff, because not only would that make him a cannibal, but also no-one had thought to build him a digestive system!

"Bill, what about those mushrooms you promised us?" asks Numf as the veggie soup simmers away nicely.

"Oh yeah!" Bill says, fishing in his pocket. Onto the top of the soup he throws a large handful of mushrooms.

"Hey! They're all dried out and horrible! What happened to the nice moist ones that were back in the glade?" asks Numf.

"Believe me, Numf, dried is best," says Bill.

"What, more flavour?"

"Something else else like that."

oh dear somehow I have a feeling this is going to get even more offbeat!

Hurrah!

More, more, more!!!

They had managed to to fashion some crude eating utensils from tree branches, and Numf and Bill had eaten their fill. Surprisingly without getting splinters in their tongues.

Now, their appetites sated, they rest, lying on their backs, distended stomachs pointing at the sky. Basking in the warm rays of the sun.

Sonnie lies next to Numf, buzzing happily to himself.

"Nize vapourzzzz..." he says quietly to anyone who listens. Although not able to consume any of the soup, Sonnie had allowed the steam to cleanse his crystaline form.

"Mmmmmm, nice soup...." adds Bill.

"I feel sleepy after that. My eyes feel half shut," Numf slurs slightly, smile apparently tattooed to his face.
"Hey, Bill, have you noticed how all of the colours have changed? It's like all of the shadows have been banished! And the colours have turned flourescent. Like wow! Look at the green on those trees! It's all a uniform lime green - with red outlines! And fancy coloured laser beams coming out of the leaves!"

"SSShhh - lie back and enjoy...."

"And the blue that the sky has turned - what a gorgeous turquoise! And those clouds - look a cloud steam train!" Numf giggles excitedly. "Puffing out more clouds. And look! It's Driver!" Giggles more and more. And starts singing # Casey Jones, steamin' and-a-rollin' ....#

"Do you see the flying saucers?" asks Bill.

"Not yet - but I can see the sky turning Paisley patterned. Like Hendrix's flying V! Wow, that's beautiful!"

Numf feels like he's not actually talking - just thinking the words, and the others know what he's saying. Weird! But Cool!

"I don't see the saucers either - oh, here they come out of the big dots in the Paisley ying and yangs," says Bill. It's his turn to get excited now. This is what he's been waiting for - a sign of intelligent life.

Numf puts up his arm and, closing one eye so that he can gauge the perspective and timing right, he plucks a flying saucer out of the sky. He takes it down and places it on the palm of his other hand.

Bill sits up and leans closer to look. "Wow - it's tiny, man."

"No needz to getz perzonal!" sniggers Sonnie at Numfys expense.

Out from the saucer team hundreds and hundreds of tiny aliens - no bigger than the full stop at the end of this sentence.

With his ultra vision, Numf peers closer. And sees an army of full stops pointing guns at him.

"Now, now, there's no need for that!" he says, backing away from his own hand. " Look, I could squish the lot of you in less than a second. If I wanted to. But I haven't. So get back in your spaceship and fly away."

"Hey, can you take me too?" asks Bill.

"Don't be silly - you're far too big!" laughs Numf.

"Aww, but I always wanted to go into space........"

"I know! Look, you're getting another passenger, okay?" says Numf to the aliens.

Using ultra speed he runs about 3 miles within half a second, and then turns around to look at where Bill should be. He sees a tiny little dot. Again he stretches out his arm, this time plucking the dot from the horizon and drops it into his palm. And then watches as it climbs on in.

Righting the ship, Numf blows softly into his palm, creating a cushioning airflow under the craft and forcing it into the air again. Away it flies.

Numf runs back at ultra speed again.

"Hows that?" he asks.

"Fabulous. Thanks," says Bill sleepily. "That's what I've always wanted. You guys are just so fuckin' cool! Rock'n'roll!"

"Pleasure. Any time." Numf lies down and falls asleep. Bill follows quickly on his heels.

Sonnie is the only one to notice the sun smile at them before he, too, falls asleep.

Ohmygod, Mr. Ghostly Numfie, I guess you were right! This like isn't even like close to the Oz I read about the first time.