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

Jesus' eyes widen slightly, and his shoulders twitch. The laugh is barely beneath the surface.

And that's when Numf attacks. Just as he had planned - having made the assumption that Jesus would have been spying on them, no doubt enjoying Thors ritual humiliation.

One quick ultraspeed kick to the nads.

Jesus crumples to his knees, eyes opening even wider now, hands grasping at his bruised plums, a whimper escaping his lips. Within half a second Numf has him trussed up like a turkey at Thanksgiving, hanging by a rope from the rafters, gagged.

"Now he can't whistle or shout to his army outside, can he?" explains Numf. "Sonnie - go and nip outside and see what we're up against. Use one of the chimneys if you can so that you're not seen."

Three seconds later Sonnie's back hovering next to Numf.
It is the first, and probably last, time that most of the occupants of Valhalla hear a diamond gulp.
And considering how hard diamonds are, that is not taken to be a good sign.

" I take it we're up shit creek without the proverbial," says Numf to Sonnie.

"Yip!" says Sonnie, reduced to monosyllabic answers by the panic rending his soul.

"You forget," comes a voice filled with slime and glee from behind Numf, " that I am omnipotent."

Numf turns to see JC slipping from the knots which had bound him mere seconds earlier.

"It's okay, you can get little blue pills to cure that these days," cracks Numf. He drops his tone, and adds a large dollop of menace. "And no, I didn't forget. But what you seem to have forgotten is that this is a hall full of heroes that you're picking a fight with - and, win or lose, this will be a day that you will never forget!"

From behind him there comes the biggest cheer that Valhalla has ever heard.

Jesus takes a big breath to call forth his righteous troops, but Numf swings a punch at him, connecting with his nose.
Like something out of a cartoon Jesus flies back through the air, and through the wattle wall, leaving a spread-eagled sillouette.

Numf turns quickly to Odin and, pointing at Jesus exit point, says, "They're your troops to command - but I'd recommend they don't waste time trying to get the doors open."

"EINHERJAR! USE THE WALLS!" Odin commands.

The mighty Viking warriors crash through the wattle and brick walls into the night, where their enemies wait.

The merest second later a great club screams through the air, smashing the roof from over their heads. Beams, timbers and spears fall, crushing and impaling those below.

Cheers turn to screams.

Screams turn to shocked and panicked silence when they survey the area exposed above the great hall and most of them see for the first time the scale of the enemy hoards.

"Told you" says Sonnie.

Hundreds of flames leap from fires lit around the mountains that surround Valhalla.
Around each fire there can be seen battalions of dark masses, with no clarity at this distance.

At random intervals around the snow covered mountains the warriors can see dark swirling eddies, through which march wave upon wave of troops, which can only be seen by the reflection of the campfires, and the absence of starlight.

In the foreground, however, are the more immediate problems.

These can be divided into three catagories.

1. Giants - not your 6 foot 8 inch giants - more in the region of 80 feet. And never was a brick shithouse built quite as sturdily.

2. Dragons. Their eyes shine red in the night, and they test their fire breathing as they circle in for the slaughter.

3. Others - these can generally be seen out of the broken down walls, waiting for the first ring of escaping warriors. Included in their ranks are four-armed behemoths, snakes the size of a greyhound bus and wolves twice the size as any seen on earth.

-----Musical Interlude-------

The Ballad of Sonnie and Numf - Part One
----------------------------------------------
(To the tune of "The Last Resort" from the Eagles Hotel California album)

He came from Summerhill
Born in A-ber-deen
Where the Old Scrote heavies hang
Heavy in his spleen,
He packed his hopes and dreams
Like a little girl,
Just like his brother came
To Legionworld.

He heard about a place
People were smilin',
They spoke about Fat Cramers Caff
How they loved to laugh,
They came from everywhere
To The Hussy's Bar
Seeking a place to stand
For the best view by far.

They fought the hero's side
They had a good time
Wasn't long til they found out
What it's like 'up there'
They called it Paradise
I don't know why -
Now someone's laid the mountains low
While the Gods got high.

Now the chilly winds blow down
Across Valhalla
Through the bitter space eddies
Where realities whirl,
Where the Gods of old must die
To release their Power,
To provide the neon lights
For Disneyworld.

Some maniac's came to rape the land,
No-body caught him -
He stole the Happy Hunting Lands
And everyone was sleepin',
They call it Paradise,
The place to be,
Now they have to battle hard,
To save eternity.


to be continued ...........

Back to the story..........
------------------

A psychic voice goes through the heads of the Viking warriors.
It is a bass voice - very reminiscent of Brian Blessed.

"Today is the day," Odins voice tells them, "that we have all dreamed of. Today is the day that they write our songs. The songs that will be sung around campfires and in dining halls. Make sure you are worthy. The songs that tell of our heroism, valour, and ultimately our VICTORY!"

Heimdall blows with all his might into his horn, calling the sons of Odin, and warriors to the battlefield.

From within the main core of the warriors comes a ragged cry of "VICTORY!" complete with raised fists, swords, spears etc.
From the outer ring of the warriors comes a ragged cry of pain and death, as they are pinned down with numerous projectiles - hand grenades, rains of arrows, armour piercing bullets, laser fire. Thousands die in the initial volley.

The dragons circle inwards, the nearest of them letting loose with their inbuilt napalm.
Flames shoot out, incinerating warriors, scorching brickwork, burning wood. Thousands more die in the initial volley from the dragons.

Through the wreckage can be seen the largest of the giants, almost a hundred feet tall, raising his massive club once more to smite the insects below. A small number of arrows fly, but they do no harm to the hide of the giant. As the giant nears the zenith of his swing, Sonnie sets off.

Our heroic blue be-sparked diamond channels the lightning housed within him and flies faster than he ever has before. He can't allow the swing get started and momentum build up.
Straight up the giants particularly hairy nose he flies, pulling behind his nigh light speed trail the giants nose, eyes, and frontal lobes, exiting out the top of the giants cranium. Killing him instantly, in case you didn't guess.

Like a giant redwood toppled for timber, the giant takes a number of seconds to fall over, almost as if in slow motion. Everyone who can safely do so stops to stare, many with jaws agape.

K AAAA THHUUUMPPP!

Scrabble as they may, many hundreds of the Christian warriors die as the giant falls.
The Viking warriors get their first taste of blood, and raise their voices in salute.

The dragons turn back their attention to the task at hand, obliteration of the heathen that stand in their way.

Warriors try to hide under the fallen roof as the liquid fire sprays scythe like through the broken hall.

"Give us a bit of space, will ya?" requests Numf of the warriors around him. They back away, seeing a glint of lunacy / stupidity / berzerker in his eye.

He puts both pinkies in his mouth and whistles.

"Oi ! Ugly - come here!" he shouts. And then takes up the standard 'hero' pose.

The nearest of the dragons can't believe his luck. A challenge! From a human?
Whatever - another skull and cross bones for his undercarriage. He flaps slowly forward.

One quick burst of ultra-heated napalm later, and there is nothing but a circle of fire.
The dragon laughs.
But only until a flaming man shape walks confidently out of the circle. He brushes himself down until all of the flames are out.
He slowly looks up at the dragon, who has landed a short distance away. The other warriors leave it alone, realising that Numf obviously has a plan.

Numf beckons the dragon to come nearer. "C'mon ye big chicken!"

The dragon edges slowly forward.

Numf says, in a voice barely above a whisper, "Tell your mum," - the dragon edges even closer -"that Numf-El owes her a fucking good hiding - and he plans to deliver. Do you think you can do that?"

The dragon nods its head.

He lowers his voice even further to draw the dragon closer still. "Do you think you can do it without a bottom jaw?"

The surprise hasn't even registered on the dragons face before it finds itself with half its jaw missing.
The shock and surprise mingle with fear, pain and adrenaline to keep the dragon alive for three more heart beats before it keels over.

"Shit. I guess I need another messenger."

Once again Numf has to switch to invulnerable mode as the dragons instantly gang together to seek revenge. How dare that puny human evn touch one of their bretheren!

They converge in a cloud above Numf, each turning their liquid fire on our hero.

All that this actually does is to concentrate the dragons in one area, open to a flying wedge style attack from the Valkyrie, swords and spears flashing as the collide point on with the red cloud. Dragons set each other on fire as they are all crushed together by the impact, heads are hewn, hearts are skewered, genitals gouged.

Only a very small number of the dragons survive the attack, and none of them are unscathed. The remainder are chased across the skies.

A small number of winged white horses lay whinnying gently, broken and scorched on the ground. It is the sad but proud task of the survivng Valkyrie to send their friends on the final leg of their journey into blackness.


Battles rage all around - it's impossible to keep track of what is going on everywhere.

Numf is immobile for a long time, as the flames surround him. He knows that there isn't much he can actually do until the fire is extinguished and his body temperature drops to something approaching normal. Only then will he be able to rejoin the fray.

"Sonnie!" Numf shouts.
Sonnie appears almost instantly at his brothers side, being impervious to the flame - worried in case there is a problem.
"Whatz the matter?" he asks, worried.

Numf explains his plight, and asks if there's anything Sonnie can do.

After a few seconds thinking Sonnie goes for help. There are still a number of warriors who are nowhere near the actual fighting. With the dragons gone they don't need to hide in the debris, and can provide the help required. Sonnie organises a handful of them to round up buckets of water, realising that to flood the immediate are with a large amount of freezing cold water would probably shatter his brother in much the same way as the T2, or Alien3.
Extinguishing the fire first, and then cooling rather slowly would be the best way forward.

He goes back to explain to Numf what's happening.

"Sonnie, I've got a job for you," says Numf. "We need to stop the influx of warriors through the eddies - do you think you could do something about that?"

"Zhure - I'll get them closed."

"That's not what I'm after," says Numf, and goes on to explain.

Sonnie races out from the hall, straight through one giant, a pack of man-sized hyenas, a very large green worm and several battalions of four-armed foot soldiers to the nearest black hole, which is busy issuing forth ranks of twisted christian warriors.
Thou shalt not kill - yeah, that'll be right, they bloody well started it.

From behind the eddy, all that he can see is the warriors issuing forth. Due to his size thankfully he goes un-noticed.

As per Numfs idea, Sonnie races into the sky. He lines himself up with the eddy from behind, and then races towards it in a parabola. Barely missing the ground he heads back to the skies, dragging the eddy behind him, slowing down a mile above the ground to reduce the pull. With some slight adjustments the eddy is left horizontal, facing downwards.

The next rank walks through and finds itself hurtling groundward at great speed, into the rank and file of its fellow warriors.

Rank after rank follow, having no clue as to what is happening through the gate that they cross.

Sonnie sits back for a few seconds.
"Yep, that workzzz," he says to himself.

Five seconds later another three eddies are sitting in the sky, warriors falling to their deaths.

Twenty seconds later another ten.

But still they don't know at the other side what is happening, as rank after rank wish they'd joined the parachute corps.

On the next pass, however, Sonnie is spotted by a giant serpent, Jormungand.
This vile beast, whose very breath pollutes the land over which he crawls, strikes, catching Sonnie in his mouth.

Numf screams, seeing his brother swallowed by an evil snake (as you would).
He is not the only one who has seen what happened.
Mighty Thor was already making his way towards the serpent. As valiant as he is stupid Thor doubles his effort to reach the twisting , writhing monster.

Eventually he smashes his way through the last line of foot soldiers and stands challengingly in front of Jormungard.

"FREE MY FRIEND AND ALLY, OR ANSWER TO THE GOD THOR!" he shouts above the cry and scream of the fallen and dying.

Jormungard stops his writhing, and turns to Thor. Scorn crosses the serpents eyes as it rears, opening out its hood to look even more impressive as it looms above The Thunder God.

"By the mighty Mjolnir!" Thos screams, raising his trusty hammer as he races to the attack.

But, of course, it's little more than a large mallet at the moment.

Swilling down the snakes gullet, Sonnie is disorientated. Even through the body of the huge beast he hears Thors challenge, and it reminds Sonnie of his recently gained power.

He reaches out mentally and pulls.

Lightning cracks like the dawn of time, leaving trails of ozone in its wake, which will eventually find its way to Antarctica to fill a big hole.

The lightning hits Jormungard in the top of his head, travelling the length of his body and earthing itself out of his tail. The snake convulses, writhing for an entirely different reason this time.

Branches of electricity spear out from the serpent, killing anyone in the vicinity. Except for Thor. Luckily for him the lightning is attracted to his trusty hammer, held at arms length above him. Returning as if to its true owner.

Thor watches as the charge jumps through the air into Mjolnir, and his gast is flabbered. Or was his flabber well and truly gasted? One of the two.

The serpent starts to crisp, smoking along its length, turning like an X-ray on and off.

Finally the lightning stops, the serpent blackened, still as a statue, only Thor still alive within a half mile radius.

To all watching it looks as if it is Thor who has killed the huge snake.

And then the thunder starts.
Peels and peels of earth-rumbling thunder. And the rain drops start. Drops the size of apples, heavy and pendulous.

Thor, still fixated on the serpent, sees Sonnie break free through the top of its skull, breaking off its charred head. Unfortunately Thor doesn't move quickly enough as the blackened head comes his way, and the poisonous fang slashes into his thigh muscle.
Thor falls to the ground, pinned.

From behind the remains of the snake walks slowly forward a face that Thor knows even better than his own - his half brother Loki. Sword in hand, look of glee on his face.

Sonnie catches sight in his peripheral vision of Thors peril. He stops instantly and turns round to help The Thunder God.
Thor - blood leaking from his leg, chest heaving, sweat dripping, is trying to remove the fang which pins him. Unknown to him crisp flakes of poison are entering his bloodstream.

Thor waves an arm in a dismissing way, and shouts at Sonnie, "Carry on with what thou doest - stop the warriors coming through!"

Loki stands now over his half brother, sword swung back, ready to strike.
Unusually for him he is not talking, not boasting, and not taunting. He is oviously intent on the task at hand.

Sonnie, not sure what to do, is relieved when he sees another Viking warrior slam into the side of Loki, unbalancing him. Seeing that Thor is not in imminent danger any more he returns to his allotted task.

Heimdall launches himself from the ground at his long time enemy, pinning him down and not allowing him to swing his sword.

"Ah, Heimdall. Well met - I was hoping to find you today. We have many years of ...."

Loki shuts the fuck up as Heimdall drops his helmetted head into his face.

As Heimdall releases the weight on his mortal enemy Loki drops his sword and grabs instinctively at his face.
Heimdall stands up and removes his club from his belt. As he swings it two-handedly above his head Loki kicks out at his feet, knocking him off guard.
Heimdalls head smashes against Jormungards remains, disorientating him for long enough that he is unaware of Loki skewering him on his sword. He loses consciousness and dies slowly, blood gushing from his mouth, filling his lungs.

Thor has watched all of this helplessly, but now he whispers to himself.
"Sonnie, mine prettiest of diamonds, help me."

There must have been a connection made between Mjolnir and Sonnie, because Sonnie hears Thors plea, and abandons his task. Unfortunately for the warriors trying to come through this portal it is left 35 feet in the air, spinning. Far enough to break every bone in your body, but not far enough to kill them outright.

Sonnie sees Loki standing above Thor. Sword in hand, blood pishing from his face.
Sonnie swoops down towards Loki, but some instinct pulls Loki backwards, causing Sonnie to have to maneouvre at the last second. Instead of drilling through his brain, Sonnie slices through Lokis carotid artery.

Loki falls to his knees, blood spurting through the fingers of the hand which tries to staunch the flow.

Sonnie turns around to find Thor, still pinned to the floor, eyes half closed, sad grin on his face. "Thank you, Brooch," Thor says with a touch of obvious humour in his whispered voice. "It's getting cold, my friend. So, so, co ...."
A final breath leaves his body and hangs heavy in the air.

Sonnie sighs, but knows this is not yet the time to stop and grieve. There is still a battle to be won. And there will be plenty more to grieve before it is over.

Four armed warriors rain from the skies. Most of them die, as do the soldiers that they meet on the way to their deaths. There seems to be no end of them.

Jesus looks around the battlefield. By some strange quirk of war, the communications corp had been the first to be destroyed by Sonnie, therefore meaning that they had no means by which to inform HQ to stop the flow of troops.

Standing above the great hall, camouflaged in his white suit against the mountain snow (standing in the shadow of night anyway, so it makes bugger all difference), Jesus marshalls his troops.

Only a small handful of the 'whiter than white' christians who made up the population of Heaven / Disneyworld had wanted to join in their holy crusade. All they wanted to do was play on the slides. And they all, almost to a man, had claimed that they had given up violence anyway! Like it was bloody Lent or something.

They just couldn't see the Big picture! Bloody cretins.
Thou shalt not ...

PUH-LEASE!

Did nobody read the Old Testament these days?
Smiting pagans, falling on their women, killing their children, drowning them all, beheadings, sacrifices, plucking out thine own eye, plagues, 40 years in the wilderness, big fish etc..
It wasn't all a bloody picnic you know.

And that's why he had had to call in the professionals.
He hated doing it, but if he was to expand to their true potential what choice did he have?
Bastards were costing him an arm and a leg too!

So, first things first - "You! Get one of your men to head down there and pick up a radio. One of those big mega ones, not the little hand held thingummies. Go - now!"

The Valhallans are still outnumbered ten to one.

Valiant though they be, they die in droves, surprise and planning having had the biggest hand in the inevitable victory. Oh, and superior firepower against swords and big bloody meat tenderisers has helped too.

Bands of warriors shelter scattered in the debris, looking for the opportune moment to strike - too often taken out without the chance to.

Shadows flit in the flame lit night, tales whispered, deaths told of.

Thor, Heimdall, Loki - friends, lovers, brothers, enemies, mentors, broken bodies scattered gracelessly. Silent tears fall, while anger swells.

Stories whispered also of heroic deeds, and brilliant strategies, not all of which ended in instant death. However, against such a numerous enemy it's difficult to do any more than just chip away. These stories will not be remembered - only the victorious write the history books.

The raining of enemies has stopped. Hills small and large cover the area outside of the great hall - mostly of the dead - but one that moans eerily. The eddies have been removed from the skies, however the starlight is mostly blocked by smoke.

There are no strategies available for such scattered groups - or so the brave fear.

Until Odin makes himself known once more.

On a psychic command from Odin, half of the remaining Einherjar attack. All around the remains of the once great hall the fighting is taken to the enemy. Half of these brave warriors die in the initial rush, but they die knowing that it will not be in vain.

Two seconds after the attack the other half, who have all slipped unseen through the wrckage, follow swiftly behind Odin, surrounding and protecting Numf. They know that the only hope that the afterlife has is if the prophecy is fulfilled. if somehow Numf can survive this night and bring the battle to Jesus.
To this end they must retreat.

Sonnie flies above them, watching for any problems to give the warriors a heads-up. Where possible, Sonnie uses his speed to prevent any problems from arising.

The warriors make their way silently and cautiously forward, making it past the walls of Valhalla and out past the nearest mounds of dead and dying.

From his vantage point high above, however, Jesus has spotted the large group of Vikings, and has just the thing to take care of them.

He points at the band, and says over his shoulder, "Fenrir, they're yours."

Just when the Einherjarnarfar-nyar-nyar-ny-nyar-nyar make it to the outer circle of camp fires, they are hit broadside by a wolf roughly the size and speed of an 18 wheeler.

All of the warriors behind Numf are obliterated in one fell swoop. Fenrir turns on Numf. Numf turns to face Fenrir.
Fenrir grabs him in his great mouth, canines seeking to pierce and rip and rend. Thankfully for Numf he still hasn't changed from his invulnerability and, although rather shaken, he is relatively unharmed.
The same cannot be said of Fenrir, who quickly spits him out to show blisters the size of coconuts all over his tongue. He howls briefly, but it hurts far too much, so he sticks his tongue in a nearby snowbank.

Sonnie speeds at the giant wolf.
And bounces off!

The wolfs pelt is obviously thicker than he looks.
Sonnie rounds on him again. His time he doubles his effort - twice the speed and with a drilling twist along his length.

SMA -ping!
Off Sonnie bounces again.

He calls on the lightning!
To no avail - the Thunder Gods powers must have passed back to him!

By this time Fenrir has turned back to Numf. Haunches up, head down, eyes slitted, teeth bared - he comes slowly forward. Not a happy puppy.
Spears and hammers bounce harmlessly off of the great beasts head and legs, some getting caught in his fur.

A number of the enemy run to help the great beast - the Vikings, knowing that their weapons are doing no good trust in their Gods, and turn to face the black coated, four armed enemy.

And their Gods do not let them down.
Fenrir snaps forward at Numf, but is instead met by Odins great spear across the snout. Although it does not break the skin, the power behind it snaps Fenrirs head back and gets his attention.
Fenrir snarls.
Odin snarls back and leaps! Straight at Fenrirs face. Instinctively Fenrir turns his head away from the attack, and Odin lands on the side of his head, using his great eyelid for purchase.

A great 'Yip!' of pain is released by the great beast.

Holding on one-handed, Odin takes Gungnir and thrusts forward, finding a way through Fenrirs defences, blinding him on one side. Fenrir screams! In an attempt to dislodge Odin, he shakes his head wildly, up and down, side to side. odin manages to hang on valiantly, but eventually he is shaken loose.

To the shock and dismay of his followers he is flipped into the air by Fenrir, who then snaps his head up and swallows the one-eyed God whole. Well, almost whole. One leg is left behind.

Jaws drop. Eyes stare, not believing.

Then they turn and run.

This is just what the dragons have been waiting on - a fleeing mob.

They sweep in from the skies, spraying flames, grabbing victims and racing up vertically before releasing them to fall amongst their colleagues.
This time they are spread out, and the outnumbered Valkyrie can only pick at them one at a time.

Sonnie does what he can, but he is still shaken from his encounter with Fenrir.

The warriors run in a very rare show of panic. However, very soon they can feel through their soles the groundshaking lope of Fenrir on their heels again.

Some collapse to the ground - and pray to what Gods they think may still exist. Very few pray to the correct one, believing him to be dead.

As Fenrir catches up with and crushes those warriors at the back of the fleeing pack he bounds to a halt, with a quizzical look on his face. Which turns to a pained look, which dissolves almost instantly to a look of utter dismay. His stomach can be seen to turn bloated in front of the warriors who have turned to die with their wounds in their front.
As the great wolf projectile vomits Odin, in amongst a stomach full of blood and acid. The acid has burned away most of Odins flesh, but he hangs on to life. He also hangs on still to Gungnir, his great spear, which caused the vast amount of internal bleeding.

Fenrir falls, crushing the following enemy on one side.

On the other side they flow past, engulfing Odin with their numbers. The Einherjar race to the rescue of the Allfather, but fall in a hail of bullets.
Odin is lifted away as a prize, still breathing, to be laid at the feet of the victorious Christ.

'No!' says Numf when he turns and sees Odin approaching the entourage of a white figure further along the mountain. He looks at his brother. "Can you do anything?" he asks.

Within two seconds Sonnie is hovering in front of the Allfather, who is being displayed victoriously to the entourage. Odin senses him there, and knows why he has come. "Please!" he hisses.

Without taking time to think Sonnie explodes down through Odins chest, snuffing the life force in him. Sonnie feels, more than hears the words Thank You.

In a spiral Sonnie now explodes outwards - three feet above the ground, faster and faster - screaming! Every second man dies in what looks like a misfired Domino world record. Those left alive will thank their own Gods in the days to come, and tell the story of their luck as they watch their colleagues fall around them.

Numf still runs. He can feel his temperature drop, closer and closer to the point where he will not die in screaming pain the second he turns off his invulnerability.
Bullets rain all around. Luckily for him they bounce off his invulnerable skin. Unluckily for others who flee alongside him they don't have the same protection.
Warriors fall before the advancing hoardes.
Their numbers dwindle.
More fall, staining the snow red in intricate patterns.
Fewer and fewer are left to flee.

Numf crests the hill, panting, to find a line of warriors facing him.
Pissed off warriors.

"You'd better be fucking well worth this!" one hisses at Numf.
"Huh?" asks Numf.
"Just get on your bike and get out of here to let us die properly!"
"Huh?" Numf re-iterates, as a brand new titanium Raleigh Chopper is thrown at his feet. "Coolest bike ever, though it be, it's not mine!"

"Well, it says it is," says the warrior.

"Hiya Numf! How's it hangin'?" asks the bike in a familiar voice.

"Bloody Hell! It's Johnny Bag Man! What happened to you?"

"Less of the talking and more of the getting the hell out of here will ya!" says pissed off Viking #2.

"Jump on Numf - we're going for a ride!" says JBM. "I'll explain as we go."

"Where's Sonnie?" asks Numf, looking around for his brother.

"Here," says Sonnie. "Just go and I'll catch youz up in a couple of seconds."

Sonnie zips away and true to his word is back in two seconds.
"That'll make them think twize," he says. "Most of them are trying to hide now - they're certainly not charging anymore."

Numf, however, hasn't moved an inch. "Have you ever tried to start a pushbike in a foot of snow? It's not easy!"

"Hey Numf - press the 'skidoo' button on my handlebar!" suggests JBM.

One pressed button later three skis appear from out of the framework and lift the bike an inch off of the snow.

"Wow - you're not the standard 1970's model, are you?" asks Numf rhetorically.
"I can't wait to try this 'turbo' button!"

Numf feels gravity starting to work as the bike starts to slide down the hill.
"Yeeeehaw!" he calls to no-one in particular.

As they go JBM explains what was happening.

Odin had realised that they were beaten, but the only way to ever bring any kind of victory out of the situation was to make sure that the prophesy was helped along the way.
The pissed off Vikings were pissed off because they had seen so many of their comrades and brothers-in-arms .... no, stop that bloody singing Numf ...... being killed with their wounds in their backs - a Viking sign of cowardice - just to try to get Numf away to safety. And of course they'd just seen Odin, and Thor - their Gods - killed. All in the course of an evening.
And now there was only a small band of warriors left to buy more time for them.

So, it wasn't so much Numf, as the situation they found themselves in that they were pissed off with.

"Oh, that's okay then. So, where are we going then?"

"We're going to hell," says JBM. "I've been fitted with the latest ANUS."

"Excuze me?" asks Sonnie, flying along beside Numf and JBM.

"Afterlife Navigational Universal System," provides JBM. "The latest in navigational systems for the afterlife. Just like it says on the box. So it will tell me exactly how to get there."

"Speaking of which - how the hell did you end up like this? Last time we saw you you were made out of corn!"

"Well, I did a trade. Since the real me is just the condoms, I traded the corn with Valhallas numero uno blacksmith. One taste of buttered popcorn and he was hooked! Couldn't give me enough gadgets to pay for my body weight in popcorn.So now I'm a lightweight, cool-as-fuck bike. My soul infuses the frame and the tyres and all of the gadgets."

"Superb!" says Numf, as they enter a snowy forest. Numf tries to steer through the trees, but soon finds out that he doesn't need to, as JBM can do it all himself.

Behind them the sound of battle commencing is muffled by the encroaching trees.
But still they all hear it for what it is and turn silent.

The sound of fighting quickly disappears behind them as they ski down the mountain.

At one point they hit a small snowy hillock at speed, and find themselves flying through the air.

If anyone had been standing in the correct position they would have seen a well-nigh iconic image of our intrepid threesome silhouetted against a large white moon .... but then, since most dead people have never seen E.T. the significance would probably have been lost on them.

They would have laughed, however, seeing the threesome topple forward and end up in a snow bank.

Steam hisses from the man / bike shaped hole as Numf is cooled down rapidly.
As he luxuriates in the feeling of being his normal temperature again he flexes between his ultrapowers.
His ultra hearing, however, warns him to the fact that the release of steam has been spotted from further up the hill.

"Bugger - got to get going," he mutters, righting JBM. "Time to try that turbo button of yours."

Sonnie shakes the last of the snow off himself. "Why can't you uze super zpeed?" he asks.

"Because we're on skis, not wheels."

"Oh, okay."

Numf jumps on the chopper and tries to get started down the hill when he hears a 'pinging' of bullets flying past his head.

Sonnie zoooms back to buy them some time - flying through the tree tops causing them to drop all of their snow on top of the advancing army. This in turn starts a small avalanche, dragging the army along with it.

Numf turns to see this, and, realising that they have very little time to play with opts to hit the turbo button.

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" Numf screams as he has to grab ahold of JBM as he goes screaming backwards towards the advancing avalanche / army.

Numf and Sonnie go to Hell on a Pushbike. The 100th and last chapter.

Or is it 2 pushbikes? Leaving the pedantry aside - this has been another fun writing stint for me. Unfortunately I have had to rush the last 10 or so chapters to try to get to the end today (my last day in my present job). With only the last chapter to go I still haven't got the foggiest idea how it's going to end. I suppose I'd better get on and write it then.

Thanks to those who have stayed reading. I hope you enjoyed it.
---------------------------------------

Hurtling backwards towards an avalanche is not a really good idea.
Thoughts disappear and instinct tends to take over. Generally instinct tells you to cack your pants, but that doesn't often help matters.

Instinct on this occassion reminds Numf that he has the ability, now that he has cooled down sufficiently, to fly, as he clips the leading edge of the avalanche.
Up into the air he launches himself, holding onto Johnny Bag Man.

"What happened there?" Numf asks, as they are joined by Sonnie to watch the avalanche rip the forest from the ground and roll it down to the valley below.

"I guess that blacksmith was a better blacksmith than electrician - I reckon that he must have mis-wired my turbo booster."

"That makez senze," says Sonnie.

Below them a small number of Vikings can be seen charging down the slope for retribution on the surviving army.

"Lets leave them to their revenge, shall we?" suggests JBM. "Oh, and if you press my 'helicopter' button then you won't have to carry me."

This time the wiring is obviously sound, as the rotors unfold from the framework and kick into life.

All three of our heroes hovver for a second or two to get their bearings.

Numf starts composing a tune, humming away to himself.

#I could while awa' the 'oors
Conferrin' wi' the hoors
Discussin' whips an' chains
And ma baws I'd be scratchin'
As the crabs were busy hatchin'
If I only had a brain."

"Zo," says Sonnie, " Which way does your ANUS tell us we should go?"
Numf bearly suppresses a giggle.

"Over towards that large red hole in the ground seems to be a safe bet," says Numf pointing into the distance. "Does your ANUS agree?"
'snigger'

"Indeed, my ANUS does agree," says JBM with a touch of humour in his voice.

Over they fly, maintaining a nice sedate pace so that they don't leave JBM behind.

As they get nearer they can easily see the nine separate rings of Hell below them.

At one point on the outer perimeter they can make out a building, which is where they head. To absolutely no-ones surprise they find themselves in front of the Ruby City. (Oh yeah - I'd forgotten all about that!)


And standing outside at the gate, spear in its hand is a toad.
"Ribbit! See, I told you you should have followed me - you would have been here MONTHS ago! Ribbit. I suppose you want in now to see the Great Ooze, do ya?"

"Please," says Numf.

"Oh. Okay. Since you put it like that. Um, no-ones ever actually been polite to me before, I'm a bit stunned to be honest......" and so saying the toad opens up the massive ruby doors, a confused look on his face. With dawn breaking, the red glow inching down the face of the elegant building blazes red. Shining out like a fire.

Inside there is a large courtyard with only two large wooden doors at the far end.
As they get closer they see that they each have a sign - "Processing" and "Ooze - authorised entry only".

"I guess that that toad authorised us, didn't he?" asks JBM.

"I reckon zo," agrees Sonnie.

Through the door they go, looking around every corner first before they carry on. The lighting is red, pulsing. mirrors line the wall. It feels like you can see the souls of your fellow travellers as their reflections disappear into infinity. And you realise just how small and insignificant it is. They all huddle together as much as a man, a bike and a flying diamond can. Which isn't much.

Eventually they walk through a trip beam, and a large scary holographic horned red head appears in front of them, growling at them. "What the Smeg do you want?"

"I'd like a Smeg fridge/freezer, please" beams Numf.

"Oh piss off," says the head.

"Piss off yourself - I've seen the Wizard of Oz. i know that you're just some strange man hiding behind this curtain!" says Numf, with which he whips back the curtain, revealing a small man with a very large scary horned red head.

Numf steps back, shocked.
'Gasp!'

They hear a snigger behind them.

"Gotcha!" says a tall, elegant, quietly spoken man, a wicked grin on his face.
"Lucifer's the name," he says, more businesslike offering his hand. "I hope you don't mind my little clockwork model - I get a kick out of him."

Numf checks for a joy buzzer before pressing the flesh, a glance which brings glee to the satanic ones visage.

Our three heroes introduce themselves.

"So, young gentlemen, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" asks the Lord Of Darkness.

"Well, it's quite a long story," starts Numf.

"In which case, before we start, might I offer you a light refreshment?" asks Lucifer.

"What, hemlock?" asks Sonnie.

"Don't believe everything you read, my pretty daimond. Why, you may have hemlock if you so desire, but I was going to offer Pimms and lemonade, with perhaps some tuna and cucumber sandwiches...."

And so saying Lucifer leads them out of a small, well diguised door into what can best be described as a neat English village garden, complete with thatched cottage, small apple tree and bees buzzing around .............


---------END OF PART ONE---------------


Don't you hate it when they do that?

and then what?

Depends if I can be arsed writing a Part Two, doesn't it?

Well get arsed then, your adoring fan demands it! Y'lazy gipe!

Just re-read the first five pages of this and can't believe I'd forgotten just how funny this is!

NUMF! Get writing again!