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

-------------Intermission---------------------

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Aitkens Rowies!

Available from all Aitkens Bakeries and other fine food shops!
(Oh, and some pretty crap newsagents too.)

You know it makes sense.


------------Intermission finishes -----------------

The following morning, apart from a raging thirst, Numf feels fine. Can't walk particularly straight, but feels fine.

He has not the foggiest idea what went on, but has fleeting memories that make no sense what-so-ever.

Sonnie buzzes jerkily to himself, feeling that he's missed something important.

And Bill whistles merrily to himself. "Thanks for helping me get a lift on that space ship last night. That was cool."

Numf and Sonnie look at each other.

"Ummmmm, no problem?" says / asks Numf, not having the first idea what he's talking about.

-------

Heading down to the river they find Condom Man, sitting staring out over the mist covered river. Head in hand, deep in thought.
Or so it would seem.

"What you so deep in thought about?" asks Numf.

"Nothing," sighs Condom Man.

"What's the matter, Mr Pumpkin Head Man? " asks Bill. "You're sitting here staring across this mist shrouded river, sun rising majestically over the horizon. The play of light burning through the mist, the feel of fingers of warmth touching you through the cold. Surely you can't be thinking of nothing at all!"

"Well, I was. Nothing at all," says CM. You would have thought he was practising to read Eeyore, or Marvin the Paranoid Android. "A man of very little brains, me. In fact no brains at all. That's me. How can you expect me to think if I've not got a brain?"

Bill, Numf and Sonnie all sighed deeply.

After getting a cold, refreshing drink of water, carried out their daily ablutions, and retrieved the pushbike they set off, once more, down the Yellow Brick Road.

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

Condom Man : "So, where are we headed?"

Bill : "We're off to see the wizard.."

Sonnie : "The Wonderful Wizzzzzard.."

Numf: "Of Ooze!"

Bill : "He's going to give us a haircut."

Condom Man : "A brain."

Numf: "And lots and lots of booze!"

More, more, more!

Love your sig line too BTW

bloody more, more, more already okay?

It's not a sig line - it's part of the story.
Sorry about the ambiguity.

By the way - love the new avatar.

Looks just like ya ...........

"If it's lots and lots of booze you're after then I know just the place," says Bill to Numf.

"It's not stealing communion wine from churches again, is it?" asks Numf with slight trepidation.

"Zo it wazzzz you!" says Sonnie. " I got a hiding for zzzat!" he addzzzz.

"Yeah - zzzzorry Zzzonnie, I mean 'sorry Sonnie'. Oops," fesses up Numfy, a large number of years too late to stop Sonnie wrongly being on the receiving end of a large amount of corporal punishment. To give him his due, Numf at least looks suitably guilty about it.

Looking sideways at Numf with something midway between disgust and respect Bill says, " No, it's nothing like that. It's a bit of a trek, but well worth it."

"How long?" asks Numf.

"Well, even if we double the speed we're going it'll probably take about 4 months or so," replies Bill.

"Sod that," say Numf, Sonnie and Condom Man together.

"It's well worth it - these guys are the original 24 hour party people," says Bill.

"What, Mancunian ravers? I hope not. I never did get that E mentality. How about if we speed up a bit?" asks Numf, indicating the pushbike. "Look, if Johnny sits in the basket, and Bill sits on the seat, then I'll stand up and pedal, and Sonnie can fly along beside us."

"But that's not going to speed us up that much, is it? We'd probably be better off walking quickly," says CM.

"But surely the best part of a journey isn't the arriving, but the journey itself. The building up of cameraderie, the infinite variety of scenery. The sights and smells ......" starts Bill, until he notices that wide eyed 'you're missing something' look that Numf is shooting him. "What?"

Numf sums it up as succinctly as possible - "Beer."

"Good point, well made," says Bill. He points inland, away from the river, to what can be seen very small in the distance as white topped mountains. "That way."

Jump forward four months -

Numf lies, once more, in a puddle of his own making. It's a state towards which he's been heading since they arrived here.
To the place of his dreams.

Valhalla.

Bill had been perfectly correct about them partying all night here, but he didn't mention at the time that it's possible for the night to last for four months.
It looks like they timed it just right.

It's fair to say that he's not the only one that's the worse for wear. Four months is a long time drinking and carousing and cavorting even for him. About half of the warriors are asleep, or comatose. Various smells pervade the air - but none of which would make a marketable pot-pouri. And 'wet dog' is probably the most inoffensive.

The hall itself is vast. The area of half a dozen air craft carriers. At least. Lined with wooden tressle tables, like the biggest Munich Beer Festival ever. Complete with buxom serving wenches with long blonde pig tails serving beer by the galleon - or at least Numf tends to drink it by the shipload.

But it's fairly near to the time he has to stop imploding, and bear his responsibilities. Be a hero again, not a pissed arsehole. Ah what the hell, let him enjoy his inactivity and insobriety for now.

Sonnie has been made into a brooch. But he doesn't mind. The Aryan warrior who wears him is AWFULLY cute. And Sonnie gets the chance to stare up into his bright blue eyes all day long.

Very shortly Sonnie will realise just who this warrior actually is. Falling for a God - that's kind of understandable. Sonnie thinks / hopes that all the other warriors calling him "The Big T" is meant as a compliment, rather than an indication of his name and standing. He'll probably freak a bit when he realises that his brooch can talk.

Biil Hicks managed to bump into the real Johnny Cash, who, it turns out Odin has appointed bard for the hall on one of his recent drop past appearances from Asgard. After having a vindaloo eating contest, and discussing Ring Of Fire for a number of days, the two men in black found a corner where they could sit and play acoustic guitar, drink beer and chew on dried mushrooms. There are a number of very strange little songs that come out of this unholy alliance.

Which leaves Condom Man out of our band of heroes.
He doesn't like this Valhalla place much at all. In fact he's scared of it. He hates it.

The fact is that the Vikings have discovered that he makes excellent popcorn. With the Vikings never having encountered it before he's a bit of a novelty for them. Dried fish and smorgasbord, yes. Popcorn - no.

"Don't- stand-too-close-to-the-fire" is a lesson that cost Condom Man an arm. Could have been worse - could have cost him an arm and a leg.
That's what Numf had said, but CM didn't understand it.

Now it felt that eyes were following him wherever he walked in the Hall Of The Slain. Almost waiting for him to veer too close to the flames again.
But Condom Man has had enough of it, and has a plan.

Five hundred and forty doors to the place, or so they've been told. Roof constructed of spears and shields.

The Valkyries arrive daily with more souls for the feast. Mostly men, but the occasional female warrior too.
It has been explained to our heroes that there is a sister hall to Valhalla - Sessrumnir in the palace of Folkvang, where some warriors go.
This is presided over by the most beautiful Freya, and is mostly inhabited by women. And some very pretty smelling men.
There isn't quite as much drinking, fighting, pissing, groping and puking going on there.
Unless, of course, it's the Male Strippers night.

At the far end of the hall to where Numf has crawled into a foetal position under a table to sleep, Bill Hicks walks on to the stage and taps the microphone.

"Some people out there might want me to do some of my so called comedy routine," he starts. The warriors in the audience get very excited. They start whooping and cheering, quaffing and laughing. Electricity fills the air.

"Hey - cut that shit out, Thor! That's just showing off," comes a heckler.
Thor looks sheepish, and lowers his arm. The electricity which his mighty hammer was attracting dies off.

However, deep within Sonnie there appears a spark of blue that wasn't present before.

"Holee ZZZhit!" he exclaims, talking for the first time in months. The electricity coursing through his crystalline body has finally taken his attention away from those blue eyes. "It's Thor!"

Unfortunately Numf isn't around to add the "yeth, but wathn't it wonderful!" punchline.

"Ods Bodkins! Mine brooch spaketh!" says Thor in amazement. "Are you bewitched brooch? Speak thee now or prepare to battle!" At this point Thor is trying desparately to remove the brooch from his black yeti jerkin. And why he was talking as if from a Shakespearian play no-one rightly knows. But it is reckoned that he's just being a pretencious prick.

"Excuse me, your godness - I just thought that you should know that if you touch my friend Sonnie then you'll be the laughing stock of the afterworld for the rest of time," says Bill from up on stage. "And that I promise you that! Small children will ridicule you to your face!" Bill almost spits. Everyone can see that he is serious.

"But? What witchcraft is this? That our guest jester and songwriter hath come under its spell?" Thor looks thoroughly confused. The crowd is going a bit mental at this point - they haven't had a good fight for a while. And these are the sort of guys that don't let something as wussy as a bit of witchcraft get in the way of a damned good rumble.
"I have enjoyed your merry japes aplenty in your time here, but if you have fallen under the spell of a talking brooch then I must ......."

Thor stops mid sentence when he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns around - very slowly.

"Who would have the audacity to interrupt me in my fathers hall?" he asks.

He looks down from his seven foot four height (not including the helmet and horns). There, at least a foot and a half below him is Numf, looking much the worse for wear. Jeers and catcalls go up from the surrounding warriors. Bill tries to quieten them down, to no avail.

Finally Thor drawn a horizontal line slowly through the air, and is rewarded by silence.

Numf clears his throat. "I mean no offence to your fathers hall, and certainly not to the warriors within, who have shown me the most amazing hospitality, but I have to warn you ........"

More jeers and catcalls.

"Silence!" demands Thor.

"... I have to warn you that if you so much as touch my brother then I will

make

you

my

Bitch!"

GO numfie!

A second of silence.

Followed by Thor throwing his head back and laughing to the skies. Half a minute passes while Thor laughs so much that tears roll down his cheeks.

Numf adds, slowly, " You're not taking me seriously, are you? I will watch every scabby dog in the area copulate with you for my amusement."

At this point Thor just about loses it completely. He now bends down so that he is eye to eye with Numf, barely an inch apart. Red of face, steam coming out of his ears, muscles tensed into cords ready for the fight. His breathing is like that of a bull - deep inhalations to bring oxygen to the muscles - and the horned helmet only adds to the likeness.

"Um, Numf?"

Numf moves slightly to see past Thors head. "Yes, Bill?"

"I think that's maybe taking it juuuuust a bit far."

"Okay, I take it back," Numf says calmly, turning back to Thor. "Maybe not EVERY dog."

"RAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGHHH!" Thor screams in Numfs face, spittle and bits of herring flying everywhere.

Numf screws up his face and wipes the spittle / herring ensemble off of his face. He takes a sniff, blows slightly and waves his hand from side to side in front of his nose.
"PPhhheee-eew! When was the last time that you used mouthwash?"

Lifting Mjolnir high above his head Thor lets out a scream of rage. "YOU IMPUDENT CUR!"

Numf steals a pose from Harbi - he may not have the Magnificent Breasts of Harbi, nor the flowing blonde hair, but he stands there, head held high, feet shoulder width and fists on hips.
The stained clothes do tend to spoil the look a bit though.

"Just a second!" says Numf, totally distracting Thors attention from the task at hand. "Before you start with the physicality, would you mind if we sort a few things out?"


"Firstly - will you let Sonnie go? I always thought it was rather demeaning having him turned into a brooch. But he seemed happy enough with it. I think he fancies you, to be honest."

This could be the first recorded instance of a diamond brooch blushing with embarassment. And I don't imagine that too many gods have ever blushed with embarassment before either.

Sonnie shakes himself loose from the brooch casing and flies into a position about ten feet off the floor, where he can get a good look at the barney about to erupt.

Thor follows this escape wordlessly, and is obviously pretty amazed at the whole thing.

"Secondly - no, you're right. Lets just get this over with. Where were we?" asks Numf. "Oh yeah, you had your big mallet above your head and...."

Thor looks mighty confused. But raises his mighty hammer above his head at Numfs insistance.

Slow motion ............

Numf mentally activates his ultra flight powers and lifts off efortlessly......

As he changes to ultra speed powers ...... brings his head back and then shoots it forward as if heading an Association football.

As he changes to ultra strength .....

And then at the very last nano-second to ultra invincibility.

As his forehead connects with Thors nose.

And he lands back down on his feet again, none the worse for wear.

Back to normal speed ............

Godly blood flies everywhere, as Thor shakes his head in disbelief.

No - come to think of it that bit would probably be better in slo-mo too........

Shake spray / arc

Shake back again spray / arc

Hands claw towards his broken face.

you get the picture - back to normal speed then .......

OOOOOHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhh! goes the crowd.

"What did you do that for?" asks Sonnie as he buzzes down around Numfs head.

"To protect you, of course!" says Numf, and watches as Thors magic hammer decides that it's not going to defy gravity after all, and falls on the top of Thors head.

"Timber!" says Bill, as Thor falls over, poleaxed.

Numf looks down at the fallen god. He snorts derisively. "Blonds!" he says, shaking his head.

Vikings from all around rush to Thors side, giving Numf a wide berth.

"You think I needzzz protecting?" askz Sonnie. When Numf gives him a 'well, yeah' shrug / look Sonnie continues.
"Did you have to go for the faze? You've zpoilt hiz good lookzzzzz!"

"Good looks? He's just another bloomin' pretty boy. All long blond pigtails and not an ounce of character! Well, a broken nose'll add a bit of character. Bloomin' ponce!"

"Lizzen - I could have dealt with him myzelf," replies Sonnie.

"Oh yeah? Like how?" asks Numf. He of course had missed most of what Sonnie had got up to earlier, so has no real understanding of what his brother can do.

"I could have drilled through his zkull and let hiz brainzzzzz spill into his bootz," Sonnie states, matter of factly.

"oh. okay," says Numf.

Thor, at this point is being stretchered out of the hall.

The Vikings are polarised by how they feel about what's happened.

Half of them are well pissed off because some little chancer has come in here and kicked their gods ass.
The other half are pleased that the wee chancer has kicked Thors ass, because he's just a big bloomin' posing pretty boy anyway.

Both sides are getting quite vocal.

Numf pushes his way back through the crowd to where Mjolnir lies.

"How come naebody took his big mallet for him?" he asks, bending down and picking it up.

Silence breaks out.

"Umm, bruv?" says Sonnie. "You do realise that only gods can pick up that hammer?"

"Piss off!" snorts Numf. And then looks around at the awestruck faces.
"Well, bugger me!"

"Bill, do you want to tell a joke, or sing a song or something?" shouts Numf, desperately looking for a distraction.

Bill, up on stage still, replies, "Well, I was just about to introduce our new house band. They'll be giving Johnny Cash a holiday for a while." Booooooos. "But don't worry everyone - Johnny'll be back later. " Cheers.

What he didn't say was that the two MIB were going to go off, write songs and experiment with certain things that nature would provide.

"Excellent - go ahead then, who've we got?" says Numf.

"It's their debut gig, but I think you might recognise one or two of them. On rhythm section tonight we have the legendary pairing of Keith Moon and John Entwistle!"

Keith and John come on waving their hands in the air to deafening applause and cheers. Keith takes to his drum kit, and John goes stage right and picks up his distinctive silver eight string Alembic Explorer bass.
A quick burst of machine gun drums and typewriter bass stirs the crowd up some more.

"On keyboards - Beethoven!"

More deafening applause for the man with the frilly cuffs and white wig. A quick da da da duuuuummmmm has the crowd ready to eat out of his hand. Beethoven obviously knows how to play an audience - give them just enough to leave them wanting more.

"On guitar tonight, sharing twin lead positions for the first time ever are Randy Rhodes and Jimi Hendrix!"

The applause stops for a few seconds as the crowd pick up their jaws. But it very quickly erupts again, even louder than before. A poetic mix of intricate classical scales and screAMING feedback has a few members of the audience fainting with pleasure as too much blood rushes to certain organs taking all of the oxygen away from their brains.


"And, on vocals - voted best frontman ever, by Classic Rock magazine - Bon Scott !!!!!!"

AC/DCs former vocalist walks up to the microphone to the sound of mayhem, dodging tankards of Viking piss, ripping off his tight white teeshirt as he goes. A big smile is stretched across his face - he's so obviously happy to be here. Lithe, hairy, tattooed body exposed, tight bleached jeans leaving no-one in doubt just exactly how happy he is.

Keith Moon lets of a couple of rim shots (as it were), and Bon Scott launches into what is an unfamiliar song to hear his tonsils getting wrapped around.

"Generals gather in their massssessssssss, (guitar riff and more rim shots)
Just like witches at black massesss.........."

Black Sabbaths War Pigs blasts out at the crowd.
Bons gravelly vocals fit the song perfectly.
The Ox's bass easily adds layers to Geezer Butlers original.
Moonie keeps it tight, but you can tell that he's just waiting for the chance to let loose.
Ludwig and Randy trade licks - almost battling with each other, and Jimi squeals in the background.

Having to fight every urge in his body, Numf backs away slowly, eyes moving left to right, scanning for trouble.

Turning round and tippy-toeing towards the exit, Numfs attempts to escape un-noticed are hampered by the fact that there is a half ring, three deep of Nordic warriors, complete with full bearskin armour, horned helmets and very offensive weapons, ranging from knuckledusters to pole-axes.

"Ooops."

In the centre of these warriors stands Thor, theriouthly thore at that. The bruising on his face looks very panda-esque.
But he's in the mood for a fight still.
With a borrowed sword.

To the fore stands an older man - seriously grizzled, with a patch over one eye and a large spear in his hand. Two wolves stand, one on either side of him, heads held low, teeth bared.

"You're gonna get your azz kicked here, Numf," Sonnie buzzes at him.

"Thanks, bruv," Numf replies sarcastically.

"Well now," Numf says derisively to the gnarled old warrior ," I didn't believe him when he said he'd get his daddy on me."

Odin looks confused, and oddly embarassed for a split second. "My son did not call for me - Huginn and Muninn brought me news," he says, nodding towards where his two raven messengers sit in the beams of the great hall.

"So, have you not raised your boy that he can fight his own battles, then?" asks Numf.

"I have not come here to fight Thors battles for him. If he cannot prepare himself for a sly, devious, underhanded attack...."

"Whatever," snorts Numf, shrugging.

"..then that is not my concern," says Odin, giving Thor a look of reproach, which he blushes admirably at.

"No, I am here on a much more important matter," Odin says, pausing for effect.

"Has anyone ever told you that you sound like Brian Blessed?" asks Numf, in an attempt to put Odin off his stride.
And it works.

"I know not of whom you speak," Odin says.

"Look, it doesn't matter - it's not important. Just get to the point, will you?"

Flustered a bit, Odin tries to continue. "Ummm, where was I again? Oh yes, I am here on a much more important matter!"
Pause, for effect.

And it might have had some effect if it weren't for the heavy decibels playing on the guitars on stage.

Odin looks past Numf at the stage. "Is that Hendrix?" he asks. "Oh well, it can't be helped. This holds more import."
And with a wave of his great spear Gungnir the music turns to silence. It is greeted with boos from the crowd, until they see who has caused it.

Numf stares up at the big man in disbelief.
He turns around slowly and shoots a six-shooter finger at the stage.

The sound comes back on. To cheers from the crowd.
"Thanks, man!" says Bon into the microphone. "This ones for you!"

And he starts into #"Livin' Easy, livin' free / Season ticket on a one waaay ride...."

Numf gives him the thumbs up and turns round to face Odin once more.

"How DARE you?" Numf snarls, head down, teeth bared. " Possibly the best ever gig EVER in the history of ever, and you use it as a pawn in your pissing contest! Right - what's your problem? Lets get this sorted out once and for all."

Odin turns to his son and says, "I see what you mean - he IS an insolent young pup."

He turns back to Numf.
"Very well, stranger. We are here to make certain, though it costs us our very lives, that you will not become king of Valhalla!"

With perfect timing the band hit the chorus.

#"Ahm on a HIGHWAY TO HELL / Highway to Hell!"

"What's this crap of whichethest thou spakethest?" asks the numfster.

"It is considered the epitome of bad manners and disrespect for a god to not announce his presence in another gods hall," states Thor. "Yeah, verily, tis forsure a sign of deceit and mal-intent!"

"Huh? I'll ask again - wtF are you talking about? And put it in words that I can understand please," requests Numf.

Sonnie buzzes, much to the amazement of Thor, who still thinks of him as a brooch.
"WtF they are talking about is that, what with you being a god, you should have let them know that you were here. That way they could have treated you as tradition demands. You not telling them not only pissez them off zomewhat, but suggestz that you're up to zomething. Zomething zneaky, like stealing their realm from under their noses. And kicking Thors ass didn't help your case."

"Look, very nice though their realm be, I have absolutely no intention of stealing it. They serve a great pint, even better than the Old Scrote. But I'd much rather be at the drinking side of the bar than the management side. And as for traditional god bothering - I only just found out two minutes ago that there was even the merest possibility of an idea that there might be something in my make-up that might have anything at all to do with godhood. So to say that I deliberately sneaked in without telling them is absolute bollocks."

"But thou canst lift Mjolnir!" says Thor in disbelief, pointing at the great hammer in Numfs hand.

"Yeah, maybe so, but that doesn't technically make me a god, does it?" asks Numf.

He is met with a three deep wall of Nordic nodding heads.

"So much for that way out."

Sonnie floats down and whispers in Numfs ear.

"What an excellent idea. Listen Odin, I know how we can resolve this without the destruction of this fine ... ummmm ... barn that you have here," Numf volunteers.

"And how is that?" Odin asks warily.

"It's called the Australian Three Kicks Method," states Numf.

"Oh?" says Odin in a 'go on, never heard of it' kind of way.

"It's simple - you pick one of your warriors, and we have a contest," explains Numf.
"Me, me, me!!!" says Thor, jumping up and down excitedly at the chance to re-pay Numf for the earlier incident.

"Okay, Thor, it may be thee," says Odin, rolling his one good eye.

"Since I'm the one who's being accused, I get to go first. The rules are - no weapons. I kick you three times, then you kick me three times, and this goes on all day until someone backs down," explains Numf.

"So, what is the contest for?" asks Odin, a tad scared that he's going to lose everything.

"Well, if I win then you will treat myself and my friends with respect - and free beer and food for, say, the next three months," says Numf. "See, no claims on property or realms."

"Okay," says Odin warily, in case there's something else. " And if you lose?"

"If I lose, then I'll apologise for my bad manners. Sonnie and I, and Condom Man if he wants to, will leave. I reckon Bill wants to stay, if that's okay with you. Just like that - we'll pack our bags and go," says Numf. "And," he adds, "as a measure of good faith I'll return your boys hammer before we even start."
And so saying Numf holds out the Thunder Gods mighty weapon.

Thor snatches at it greedily, almost as if he's expecting the numfster to snatch it back.

"Boo!"
Thor jumps backwards, adrenalin pumping.
Numf laughs.

"Right - outside. We don't want to spoil the gig," says Numf.

They exit the great hall to the sound of

# "I was standing next to a mountain/Chopped it down with the edge of my hand."
And some nigh orgasmic guitar work, which floats muted through the exit behind them.

From bizarre to ridiculous to the absolutely sublime! I it Ken!

More, more, more!!!

Im orfly glad you're still enjoying it. K2xx

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

Numf stands, surrounded by a ring of warriors, of about a fifteen foot diameter.

But he's not having it.

"Look you lot, you're just going to get hurt if you stay that close."

The ring stays in place. Arms folded.

Numf goes up and pushes aside two warriors.

"Look - if I really wanted to I could just run away ...."
And so saying he turns on the ultraspeed, and disappears in a blur.

"Over here!" he shouts, waving his arms to attract their attention from half a mile away. Risking avalanches - daft bugger. Thankfully he doesn't start one.

When he gets their attention - complete with waving arms and gesticulations - he retraces his steps at the same speed and reappears in their midst.

"So, if you're worried about me trying to escape, don't be. I could have quite easily escaped there, but I didn't. Okay?" he asks of the grumpy looking warriors.
A few sullen nods is the best that he can get out of them.

"Okay then," says Numf. "Why don't you all move back and stand next to Valhallas walls? That way you won't get in the way. Oh, and Odin, how would you like to be referee?"

Odin puffs up his chest and steps forward to the task, ordering his minions back as Numf has suggested.

Numf stand facing Thor. Or at least looking somewhere between Thors navel and chest. He has to step back a few paces and look up to make eye contact. Thor has a smirk on his face that suggests Numf's gonna get his comeuppance.

Sonnie hovers over, close to Odin and buzzes in his ear.
"I'm sure you want a nize clean, fair contezzt, don't you? You don't want any zzuggestions of nepotizzm, do you?"

"Of course not!" booms Odin in a 'how-dare-you!' tone.

"Well, how comez you let your boy keep his armour on?"

"Hmmmmmm. You're right. Thor!" he commands. "Take off your armour."

"But daaaa-aaad!" complains Thor. Complete with stamping of foot.

Numf happens to glance at the offending foot.

"I recognise those boots," he says, pointing. "Gene Simmons, Destroyer cover, 1976!" he crows.

Thor growls as he takes off his bearskin, his chainmail, his cow-stomping boots, his horned helmet and his metal wrist bands.

"And the emmm...." stutters Sonnie.

"Yes, remove that as well," says Odin, nodding towards the offending article.

Thor stares through slitted eyes at Sonnie - he doesn't like his brooch any more. But still, at his dads command he removes his shiny metal codpiece.

Sonnie isn't at all impressed by what it fails to reveal.

In a move stolen directly from Game 3 of the 1932 World Series, Numf points past Thors shoulder. Thor turns to look where he's pointing. And looks back, confused.

"Tis a mountain...." he states, unsure of the significance.

"Tis where you're going...." says Numf, and plants a tremendous hoof right in Thors gonads, cycling through the ultra fast / ultra strong / ultra invincible sequence once again.

The crowd goes 'Oooof' to a man, with a sharp intake of breath for each and every one of them, and an empathic crossing of legs.
The Valkyries who are watching secretly from the roof of the barn give themselves away with their giggling.

As prophecised, Thor goes hurtling arse over tit, clutching some very sore bits, taking 27 seconds to land on the very mountain that Numf had been pointing to.


Working with this 27 seconds and a wind speed of -1.8m/s, and a wind resistance of 18kN, taking into account the drop of temperature of 1 degree C per 100m difference in height up to the zenith, that makes it ............... a bloody long way away.


Ka THUMP!!!!

Thor, it appears, isn't as lucky as Numf when it comes to not starting avalanches.

Ten minutes later the Valkyries, under Odins command, deposit Thor, soaked to the skin and frozen, in front of Numf once more. There is a distinctly unerotic throbbing in his underwear.

He looks well and truly pissed off. Water is dripping everywhere.

"Strike one," says Numf, menacingly low.

"Numfyzz! Numfyzz! Numfyzz!"
Sonnie tries to start a chant to fire up his brother, but since most of the onlookers are on Thors side they remain resolutely silent.

Numf turns and winks at his brother. "Thanks."

He turns back and picks a different mountain. "That one this time," he says to Thor, pointing.
Without even turning to look, Thor steels himself.

WHAMMMM!

Same kick.

Same crowd reaction.

Same flight.

Same accuracy.

Brand new avalanche.

Same giggling Valkyries.

The word has gotten around that there's a contest worth seeing, and the gig has been postponed until further notice.
The whole of Valhalla has come to watch. Warriors, buxom serving wenches, and the band.

"......so, do they still make that great Ginger cake?" Bon asks Numf.

"Absolutely!" Numf enthuses. "You, Peter Pan and Ginger cake - the three best things to come out of Kirriemuir. They've even got a commemorative park bench for you in Kirrie, you know."

"Have they now?" asks Bon, quite impressed. "Considering that I was only six when I left I'm surprised there's any bugger there that remembers me!"

"Yeah, but quite a few that claim to," says Numf. "Listen, it's been a pleasure meeting you. I'd love to stand and shoot the breeze with you, but I've got some serious ass kicking to do," Numf extends his hand.

Bon grabs his hand and pulls him into his body, so that he can ask a private question.
"One question. Why're you beatin' up' on the big guy?" he asks softly in Numfs ear.

"Well, it started out in defending Sonnie. But really I think it's now just an excuse to let loose. You know, man cannot live on beer alone. And it's not very often you get the chance to go head to head with a god, is it? " Numf shrugs. "Oh, and I'm really, really sorry for ruining your gig."

"Naaaah, not at all. We'll finish it later. Good luck!" And with that hands are shook.

And Numf turns back to face Thor. Who, this time, is cringing. Arms down protecting his pulsating black and blue love plums.

"Strike two! I take it you don't want a third?" asks Numf.

"No.... please....." begs Thor.

"Do you give up?" asks Numf.

"Wellll......"

"I'll tell you what - how about if I promise not to kick you in the same area?" asks Numf.

"Okay......." Thor says, confused. "But....?"

"Look, after this one it's your turn, correct? Shit," he says to himself, "Why did I say that?"

"Yeah, you're right! My turn! Revenge. " With which he straightens himself up, slowly and obviously painfully.
"Not my balls, promise?" Thor asks like a little boy.

"Promise," promises Numf. He turns and checks with Odin, who gives him the go-ahead, happy to take Numfs word.

"Ready?" asks Numf, and receives a steely nod in return.


Drum roll, please maestro .....

Judging by kick #3, Numf is obviously a big fan on The Powerpuff Girls.

With a metallic sound effect reminiscent of Steve Austin running - de de de de - Numf leaps high into the air and swipes a a great roundhouse kick at Thors face. Speed / strength. No real need for invulnerability.

He connects with Thors jaw, snapping his neck back, spinning his head around, and smashing a number of teeth. His body spins following his head, arms swinging out. Bits of teeth and blood arc.

And down he goes.

Smack! He lands on his back, arms at his sides, and his body jerks. And then quivers slightly.

The crowd goes wild. Cheers and jeers fill the air.

Numf, who has of course landed smoothly on his feet, drops to one knee.

He slaps the ground.

"ONE!"

slap

"TWO!"

sl...

"THR....."

You don't generally get to be a god without picking up a touch of the theatrical.

Thor jack-knifes up into a sitting postion and turns his head slowly to face Numf.
He smiles, a look of great glee across a broken face. Lumped, bruised, cut and bleeding. Like something out of Ren and Stimpy.

"My turn."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh dear!

A deep "oooooooooooooooh" rumbles through the watching crowd.

Thor rises slowly but steadily to his feet. He looks around the crowd and raises his massive tree-trunk like arms to the skies. "YEAAAH!" he screams.

The crowd cheers long and loud. Thor screams back at them, to even louder cheers. He knows how to milk a crowd.

He turns around to look at Numf.

Who is no longer there. "Huh?" exclaims Thor. His surprise quickly turns to intense anger.
"RAAAAAAAAAAAARGGHH!!!!! THOR CRUSH PUNY HUMAN!"

Muscles bulge upon muscles. He makes Arnie at his most impressive look like Kenneth Williams.
He turns red all over.

Numf comes sauntering back through the crowd, wiping his hands on the arse of his jeans.

"Oi - take a chill pill. I just went for a piss while you were having your moment of ego masturbation. Next time you're through change the towel, will you? There's a good boy."

Thor is pretending to be a bull again. Head down, ready to charge. Steam snorting from his nostrils, a look of intense hatred in his eye.

"Tis my turn, little man," he says menacingly.

"Are you really sure that you want to go through with this ..... ritual humiliation?" asks Numf.

"Ab-so-lutely certain," Thor says, a gleeful smile passing over his lips, but going nowhere near his eyes.

Numf saunters over to stand in front of Thor. He decides on the Harbi heroic pose. Feet spread shoulder width, head held high (so that he can look Thor in the eye), fists on hips, elbows at 90 degrees. A strange look of serene satisfaction on his face.

"Ready?" he asks Thor, checking also that Odin is in his place. Odin nods briefly in reply. "Last chance to back out? No?"

Thor backs away a dozen paces. "Stop thy yapping, little man. Stand still, thy time hath come - for I am ready!"
The earth shakes as he lumbers into a run......

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh dear again!

"Begging your pardon, High Lord Odin," says Numf out of the side of his mouth.

Odin ignores Numf, proudly intent as he is watching his son thundering towards his target.

"aHEM !" Numf clears his throat unsubtley.

Still ignored.

"Oi ! One Eye!"

Odins head snaps round at the impertinence.

"Sorry about that, but I needed your attention," says Numf apologetically.

"Well? What is it man?" blares Odin.

rumble rumble rumBle rumBLe ruMBLe RumBLE
Thor rumbles closer and closer.
Leg swings back and starts its forward swing.
The crowd are on the edge of their metaphoric seats, screaming their support for one or other participant.

"I concede."

Thor stops instantly, but not through his own choice. And only the merest millimetres away from Numf.
Odin, the High Father, as umpire, has stopped the contest with a nod. Thor hangs in the air immobile..
Very few others would have had the power.
It's almost as if Numf knew this from the start ......

Bill Hicks laughs. And laughs. And by the time he gets to his third laugh many more are joining in. And pointing at Thor.

"I did warn him," says Numf to Odin, almost as an apology.

"Had I a hat I would verily doff it off to thee, sirra. Not many can say they have beaten the God of Thunder once, least ways twice. And none without him laying a finger on them. But beware, thou hast not made a friend there," says Odin in as quiet a rumble as he can.

Numf prostrates himself in front of Odin, and says, "High Father, please forgive my unacceptable manners in entering thy kingdom un-announced. Although no mal-intent was intended, and although I was not possessed of the total truth of the matter, I accept that ignorance is no excuse, so I will take mine ass out of here...... I'll just get me coat."

"Worry thee not, young numfster, I willst not kick thee out of my abode without giving thee the chance to say thy fare-thee-wells properly to all thine friends. Thou hast until night fall fore thou must depart," says Odin in his great bass voice..... a bit like Brian Blessed.

"What, another four months?" asks Numf, slightly puzzled.

"Nay, tis only the shortest of days, so thou hast," Odin checks the hour glass on his wrist, " but ten minutes."

Numf turns around, to be greeted by a large number of drinking buddies.
Sonnie is buzzing around excitedly.
"You tarry, tarry git!" he buzzes at his brother.

Behind Numf, Thor is being set free from his immobility and is not best pleased.

True to form, he goes a bit mental, grabbing his mighty hammer and thrusting it to the skies, calling down the lightning. His cohorts flock behind him, ready to fall on the up-until-now unscathed party.

With Numf surrounded by well-wishers, hangers on, glory-hunters and scroungers, it's just as well that Sonnie's looking over his shoulder.

Not quite quick enough to get to Thor before the lightning, Sonnie flies between him and his brother. The blue spark inside of him seems to attract the lightning expelled by Mjolnir.
A battle of wills between Thor and Sonnie, it appears that Thors working knowledge of lightning gives him the upper hand.

However, Thor doesn't reckon with just how stubborn a bastard Sonnie can be. Within seconds everyone is watching this battle, the lightning streaking from the sky, through Mjolnir, and leaping straight at Sonnie.

Individual battles erupt around the edges, but most are spellbound, or blinded by the Sonnie / Thor fight.

Thor tries to maneouvre round to strike at Numf, but Sonnie isn't having any of it, dodging back and fore.

In a flash of brilliance Sonnie jumps from defensive to offensive, and pulls the lightning from Mjolnir, breaking the connection between the great hammer and the skies. All the lightning now goes straight into Sonnie.

Just as Sonnie lets loose a mighty electrical burst, focused through one of his cut diamond faces, Odin brings the whole fight to an end.

With a slice of his great spear, time stands still. The condensed burst of light / electricity hangs in the air inches from Thors shit-scared face. No-one can move, save the High Father, who walks through the frozen fight as if he were a headmaster walking up and down rows of desks during an exam. Head held high, hands behind back.

In command.

Everyone around him can see and hear in real time - they just can't move.

"Now, boys and girls, you all know that I've got nothing againstyou all having a barney now and again. However, Thor, you broke the rule that you don't attack your opponent from behind without either a reason or a warning. Numf here has conceded - therefore you are the winner. Therefore you have no reason to strike at him. You gave no warning. Therefore you bring shame to our realm. Go to your bedroom without supper. I will be up to see you shortly." Thor vanishes in a blink.

Odin walks on again. He stops in front of the Valkyries, who have been stopped mere inches above Thors minions.
"I will have to speak to you lot in the morning about where your loyalties lie. Go to your stables and see to your steeds." Blink.

"In a few seconds I am going to release you from my hold. Anyone who lands a blow thereafter will be dealt with."
Odin clicks his fingers and time flows again.

Not a single blow falls, and Sonnie somehow manages to rein in the bolt of lightning before it hit the warrior standing behind where Thor had been.

"You have my apologies Numf, for the bad manners shown to you by my son. Kids! What can I say? What can I do to repair the damage done?" Odin asked.

"Well, there's a gig I'd really like to see....." says Numf, to cheers.
"Oh, and what happened to the thees and thous?" he asks.

"Ach! That's just for the tourists."

More, more, more please Mr T, whenever you are ready