Stephen Jennison-Smith © Copyright 2011
Smashwords edition
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
The Black Goblin
High in the sky, planing through the blue cloudless atmosphere, flew the Black Goblin. He was escaping with his haul of $100,000 from the Bank of Vespucci. Just behind him was a black figure, the D’ark Lord. The Black Goblin looked behind and saw D’ark so he landed on a rooftop.
“What do you want D’ark?” he asked.
“Your money.”
“But we’re in the same evil super hero team.”
“With an accent on the evil,” accentuated D’ark.
“Why don’t you rob your own bank?”
“I don’t own a bank.”
“I’ve been months setting this up.”
“Well it’s either your money or I’ll squash you. Take your choice.”
“Will squashing me hurt too much?”
“Do you want to find out?”
“You’re not that much better than me,” said the Black Goblin as he dropped his bag into an air vent then turned to face D’ark.
The evil Lord had used his super speed to stand face to face with the Goblin. “There’s one in the eye for you,” said D’ark as he punched the Black Goblin in the eye. “You’re a black eyed Black Goblin now.”
The smaller of the two opponents tumbled back 10 feet and was stunned. D’ark started to tear the top off the ventilation system.
The Black Goblin flew towards D’ark as fast as he could and knocked him into the air vent. “I bet that knocked the wind out of you.”
D’ark struggled but was able to use his incredible super strength (C.O. The Mixer) to bend the structure out of shape so that he could fit down.
“Uh oh, I think I have knocked him towards his objective.” The Black Goblin reached in to grab D’ark’s feet.
“Unhand me you bounder.”
“You Sirrah are the bounder.”
“Let go of my tootsies.”
“Let go of my money.”
D’ark thought for a moment, “Let’s split it 50/50.”
“Normally I might agree to that,” said the Goblin, “but there seems to be no honour among thieves.”
“You little, pointy eared, genetically cloned, grey skinned, pipsqueak.”
“Now now D’ark, there’s no need to be racially insensitive.”
D’ark kicked around, “Try saying that after I have bashed your face in,” but the Goblin held him firmly.
“We seem to be at a bit of an impasse,” noted the Goblin, “your extra super powers seem to count for nothing.”
“I can’t understand it,” thought D’ark, “I have four super powers and you only have two. What are your Achilles’ heels again?”
“I’m not going to remind you.”
“Was flatulence one? That usually goes with flying.”
The Black Goblin kept quiet.
“Or was one of them bad breath? I know I have bad breath with one of mine.”
“I’m sure if I had bad breath that would be useful information to help you escape with my money. I know yours anyway, they are, cannot tie your shoelaces, bad breath, smelly feet and flatulence.”
“So you’ve done your homework.”
“What do you need the money for anyway?”
“I need to buy my super hero drugs. Emperor Imperator has stopped funding me for two of them. He says I’m not worth it.”
“Which two will you lose?”
“Well, I like flying, so I’m not going to give that up, and I think I’ll keep my super strength.”
“So you’ll be like me then. Hey, we should become a duo the Black Lord and the Black Goblin.”
“D’ark Lord, not Black.”
“Change your name.”
“No, you change your name. Mine is my family name.”
“Mine is my race.”
“Are you serious? I have just tried to steal $100,000 off you and you want us to get together as a duo?”
“If I call myself the Dark Goblin and let you have $25,000 will you do it?”
“Call yourself D’ark Goblin and give me $50,000 and I’ll do it.”
“D’ark and $30,000 and I won’t tear your boots off and tickle your tootsies.”
“You can’t do that to me. That is a wicked thing to do.”
“I am an anti-hero so I can do things like that.”
“Ok deal,” said D’ark as he squirmed in his boots hoping the Goblin wouldn’t tickle them.
The Black (newly renamed) D’ark Goblin lifted D’ark out.
“Great,” said the Author, “you’re both called D’ark, how difficult is that now for me to write your conversations.”
D L and DG looked at each other. “Did you hear that DL?” said DG.
“Yes DG,” said DL.
D’ark pulled the bag of money out.
“Which D’ark?” asked DG.
“Look at that,” said the Author, “getting confused already.”
“It is quite obvious who pulled the bag out,” said DL, “it was me seeing as I nearly had it anyway.”
“I thought this was going to be an equal partnership?” thought DG.
“Oh no. As if a nobleman would ever have an equal partnership with one of the lower classes.”
“Are you trying to say that because of your so called ‘nobility’ we will not split our takings 50/50?”
“70/30.”
“Do you want me to put you down the air vent again?”
“It may be a tad more difficult now I am standing face to face with two extra super powers and you aren’t threatening to tickle my tootsies.” Just then DL burped
“Is that one of your super powers wearing off?”
“I don’t think it is.”
“I can’t remember what burping means?”
“It means I ate a tin of beans before I followed you.” DL started to wobble a bit, “I think we had better go,” he said as he flew off the roof and nearly hit the floor.
“If only I had waited another few minutes, his powers would have worn off and I could have kept all the money,” rued DG.
As DL’s flying power ran out he landed on the ground. DG landed next to him, “Ran out of steam?” grimaced DG.
“Can you give me a lift to New Laputa?” inquired DL.
“It’ll cost you.”
“Never mind, I’ll get the hover bus.”
“Have you got any change?”
“Why?”
“It’s just that the cash you have acquired from me is all $100 bills.”
“Oh. I don’t suppose they’ll change a hundred?”
“I’ll give you a lift for a hundred,” offered DG.
“A hundred, that’s daylight robbery!”
“It has been since the beginning of this story. I am a super criminal after all, the same as you.”
“We’re supposed to be partners.”
“50/50?”
“Alright then.”
DG caught DL up in his arms and flew to New Laputa with him.
“Good job my invulnerability still works,” moaned DL, “you have made my costume chafe.”
“How do you know I am chafing you if you are invulnerable?”
“I’m guessing.”
“You’re gassing as well, I can smell it, have you lost another power?”
“No, I told you I told you it was the beans. Ouch!”
“What’s the matter?”
“I can feel the chafing now.”
The Evil League HQ was still in the embassy building of the small South Vespuccian country that Emperor Imperator continued to rule, just. After the battle between the Evil League and the Lawful League and the subsequent arrest of the Emperor and his evil team he had managed to cling onto his dictatorship. Things were difficult with the popular Facebook uprising taking place led by a premiership footballer. The Emperor had used his evil supers to root out ringleaders and had limited the effect of the uprising by friending the whole of the Indian sub-continent.
DL and DG landed in the Central Plaza and walked into the reception of the embassy.
“Hello you two,” said the receptionist.
“Hello my dear,” smarmed DL.
“Hi,” said DG as he and DL walked into the Evil League lounge. Slime Boy was there as well as the Seamstress and the Squid. DG put his bag on a table.
“Ooh,” said slime Boy, “have you done a job?”
“Keep your slimy fingers off Slime Boy,” said DG.
“And your slimy eyes as well,” snapped DL.
Slime Boy slinked and slimed away.
“He makes my skin crawl,” said the Seamstress as she sewed some cloth.
“Sew what? Are you still stitching people up?” asked DG.
“No I am making a handkerchief case. I’ve just watched Miss Marple and she had one.”
“Have you sewed my new costume yet?” he inquired.
The seamstress pulled out a half sewn Black Goblin costume.
“Oh I need to tell you,” said DG, “my initials will now be DG not BG.”
“Aww!” exclaimed the Seamstress, “I did a lovely job of joining the B and G together for the chest logo.”
DL looked at it, “If somebody shot him in the logo it would look like BoG, or with a wonky bullet it could look like BaG.”
“Now it’ll look like DoG or DaG,” noted the Squid.
“I’ll shoot you in the logo in a minute,” said DG as he threatened the squid.
“Keep your costume on,” replied the Squid, “I was only having a joke.”
“Squirt off squink face,” jibed DL.
DG took $30,000 out and gave it to DL, but first he took $100 off the top.
“Oi,” said DL, “you said you’d give me the ride for nothing if we were partners.”
“This is to pay the Seamstress for changing my logo.”
“Pay out of your own money,” said DL as he snatched the bill off DG, “you suggested the partnership.”
“What’s all this DL/DG stuff the Author is typing?” asked the Seamstress.
“I am now called the D’ark Goblin,” said The D’ark Goblin, “because D’ark Lord and I are now the two dark anti-heroes, the twins of evil, a duo of dastardliness.”
“A pair of twits more like,” said the squid as he made for the door.
DL was sitting in a chair by the fire, “Muhauuuur,” he half cackled.
“That’s a bit of a pathetic evil laugh,” chelped DG.
“I don’t feel very evil today I’ve had strawberries and cream and watched ‘Gone with the Wind’.”
“But you are the epitome of evil, we all look up to you with relation to your sadistic and hell bent nature.”
“I just don’t feel like it today, I feel kind of nice inside.”
“Can someone stop feeding him nice things like sugar and spice? He needs some slugs and snails and puppy dogs tails.”
“We could get done by the RSPCA for feeding him puppy dogs tails,” said the Seamstress.
“Does that matter? After all we are evil.”
“On your head be it, I don’t want to have to explain to the RSPCA why we have puppies with no tails and an evil lord licking his lips.”
“Ok then we’ll feed him some cod liver oil with the slugs and snails.”
“Can’t slugs kill him?”
“Ok snails and cod liver oil.”
“We’re out of snails since the French ambassadorial team came.”
“Do you think the cod liver oil will make him get his evil streak back?”
“I don’t know, it might make him grumpy.”
“I can see it now, ‘Lord D’ark the master of grumpiness’. It doesn’t quite have that ring to it does it.”
The Mixer entered the embassy via the heliport. He went to the office near the meeting room. A queue started to form of those anti-heroes who needed to resupply their superhero drugs. The first in was the Squidget.
“Hello Squidget,” said the Mixer, “You are allowed 30 phials of shrinking potion.”
“Fanks,” said the Squidget.
“Lost your th’s? That’s a side effect of stretchiness isn’t it?”
“Cheeky, vat’s how I speak,” said the Squidget as he picked up his allowance.
The Mixer ticked off a box next to the Squidget’s name on a clip board.
The next in was D’ark Goblin, “Hi Doc.”
“You get 30 super strengths and 30 flights.”
“Can I have a couple of invulnerabilities and two super speeds?”
“That’s 20K each,” said the Mixer.
“I only have 70K. Can I owe you 10K?”
“I tell you what. I am testing a new drug. If you take it and use it I’ll give you what you want for 70K.”
“What is the new drug?” inquired DG.
“It inhibits your evil tendencies.”
“What good is that to me? I am part of the Evil League. I’m supposed to be evil.”
“Take it or leave it.”
“Would it stop me stealing things?”
“Yes.”
“Would it stop me beating people up?”
“Yes.”
“Well where’s all the fun going to go if I can’t nick things and beat people up?”
“It’s only for 24 hours, I’m sure you can go for 24 hours without stealing anything or beating anybody up.”
“Oh, I suppose so.”
“You need to take it now so I can see how you change.”
“What! Can’t I just do a quick bit of armed robbery with grievous bodily harm?”
“Just drink it.” The Mixer gave the D’ark Goblin a shimmering blue phial.
“Blue eh,” noted DG, “mine are usually shimmering green ones.” He opened his mouth and knocked it back. “Oh I forgot to ask, what’s the Achilles’ heel?”
“Forgetfulness.”
“What did I just ask you?” The D’ark Goblin started to leave the office.
“Hang on,” said the Mixer, “take these with you.” He handed a box of phials to the D’ark Goblin.
Lord D’ark was next in line, “What good is that anti-evil potion if he can’t remember anything?”
“It is based on a recipe stolen from the government. I need to see if he remembers anything afterwards. If it is selective memory loss and he can still function without behaving in an evil way then it’s worth keeping in stock for those criminals who wish to stay on the straight and narrow.”
“I was on the Straight and Narrow once.”
“Really?”
“Yes it’s a pub near London, I was fixing the roof.”
DG walked into the garden area in the plaza and started to give money to passersby.
“What are you doing?” asked DL.
“Helping the needy,” he replied.
“You should be helping the greedy, like me and the Emperor.”
A scruffy looking man came up to DG, “Any spare change Guv?”
DG gave him a $100 note.
“Thanks Chief,” said the man who shuffled away to the hot dog stand.
Seen on the horizon was a streak of light that sped through the sky and landed next to DL and DG. “Whoa!” exclaimed DL, “Who are you?”
“I am the Light Man, I fight evil with my light.”
“I think you could fight evil by giving us a fright.”
“I know you D’ark, you look to be up to one of your nefarious schemes again.”
“Well actually…”
“Let’s fight!”
“Well actually, my new partner is giving away money to passersby.”
“Fight the light.”
“Did you hear what I said?”
Light punched D’ark on the chin and knocked him down. “That was easier than I thought,” he thought.
“It would be,” replied the Dark Lord, “I haven’t taken my super powers yet.” Quickly D’ark sipped three of his phials, “Now Light Man prepare to have your lights knocked out.”
“Oh very good,” said Light Man, “nice wordplay.”
“You shouldn’t fight,” said DG, “that is evil.”
“I fight evil,” said Light Man, “that’s good.”
“Violence breeds violence.”
“Are you saying that you lot
are only evil because we beat you up when we arrest you?”
“Yup.”
“But you evil lot always beat people up when you
rob them we are just paying you back.”
“Can we get on with
the fight please,” said Lord D’ark, “don't want to waste my
super powers arguing. Who wants to pay out 60k just to argue?”
“Argument Man?” suggested DG.
“Take that you miscreant,” shouted Light as he tried to punch D’ark again, but this time D’ark sidestepped using his super speed.
“Hah, I am faster than Light!” hahed DL.
“You must be a neutrino then,” quipped the D'ark Goblin.
“That isn’t proven yet,
there may be a skewing of the results,” said Light.
“You
have a skewed attitude towards me, I’m not evil,” explained DG.
“Join me then and we will defeat the Dark Lord.”
“Ok, but I won’t hit him, that’s evil.”
“If you join him DG the partnership is off,” said DL.
“That means I’ll be able to change my name to Light Goblin.”
“Too many name changes spoil the plot,” said the Dark Lord as he threw a wobbly.
Light skipped around like Mohammed Ali.
“Been watching ‘Ali’ Have we?” asked D’ark.
“‘Floats Like a Butterfly, Stings Like a Bee’,” corrected Light.
“Smells like a buffalo, sings like a flea more like. Is that one of your Achilles heels, BO?”
Light smelled his armpit, giving Lord D’ark the chance to punch him in the stomach. There was a clunking sound. “Sounds like a girdle.”
“Is that a hurdle?” rhymed the D’ark Goblin.
“You cannot just make up random rhymes,” vociferated DL, “have you decided whose side you are on yet?”
“I shall remain neutral like Switzerland did in the war.”
“They ended up with all the Nazi gold.”
“You will end up in a Nazi toehold in a minute,” threatened Light as he grabbed for D’ark’s legs.
Lord D’ark hopped away from Light, “What’s a Nazi toehold? I think you just made that up.”
“You could have a Herman Goering bear hug,” suggested DG, “or a Rudolph Hess dress.”
The Dark Lord blocked two of Light’s punches, “I think that goodness potion has the added side effect of stupidity. As if a Rudolph Hess dress is a wrestling move, or would ever be one.”
“The Nazis were as evil as you are,” announced Light.
“Why thank you,” thanked DL, “I’m pleased you noticed. I had thought my PR campaign didn’t quite bring that across.”
Lord D’ark kicked Light where the sun don’t shine. “What a colourful turn of phrase the Author is using,” Light said after he heard the Author’s description.
Light flew back about 100 feet and tried a flying punch.
“What a fool this ‘hero’
is,” derided D’ark as he jumped on a parked hover car and out of
harms way. “I think I may have to take my flying potion. Then we
can do a Matrix.”
“The bit in the subway with the guns?”
asked DG.
“No potioned fool, the fight with Agent Smith in the second film,” he said as he sipped his flying potion, “what an expensive day this has been.”
Light ran up to DL really fast and tried a flurry of punches, DL tried to do a Neo with one hand, but some of the punches got through.
“I think you need martial arts lessons,” shouted DG.
“I think...” thought DL out loud just as Light brought an uppercut to his jaw, he went up in the air 10 feet and stayed there. He shook his head, “Good, I can fly.”
“So can I,” boomed Light as he flew up to Lord D’ark.
A crowd started to gather to watch the proceedings. “Light, Light, Light,” they shouted.
“You see that’s the thing about being evil,” said Lord D’ark, “the general public don’t get behind you.”
“Unless they want to push you off a cliff,” smirked DG.
“This isn’t fair really,” said DL, “I hadn’t actually committed a crime.” Glancing at the Dark Goblin he said, “It was you being a goody two shoes and giving out stolen money.”
“What!” said Light, “the Black Goblin was giving out stolen money?”
“D’ark Goblin,” corrected DG.
“Well that puts a different light on it,” said Light.
“That’s a good one Light puts a different light on it,” burbled DG.
Light Man turned his attention to the D’ark Goblin, “Come on the Black Goblin.”
“What?”
“I am going to fight you instead.”
“But I don’t want to fight.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, violence breeds violence.”
“Ok, come with me then.”
“Where?”
“To jail.”
“Ok.”
The Dark Lord shook his head in disbelief.
“Can you fly?” Light asked the Goblin.
“Yes I have a few hours of flying time left.”
“Come fly with me.”
They both flew away to the strains of ‘Come Fly With Me’ sung by Frank Sinatra.
The Dark Lord brushed himself down and went back into the Evil League’s embassy building. “All that fighting has given me an appetite. I think I need something to eat.”
“Why are you hungry?” asked Slime Boy, “you’ve just had a knuckle sandwich.”
The New Laputa central police station was a gleaming glass steel and concrete superstructure. For such an impressive new building there was not a lot of crime that had to be dealt with by the police, they usually mopped up after the superheroes had done their job. Light Man escorted the D’ark Goblin in through the front door. A desk sergeant was there drinking a cup of coffee.
“What can I do for you Light Man?” asked the sergeant.
“I have a criminal for you. He was handing out stolen money,” replied Light.
“Thank you, we’ll take it from here.” The sergeant brought up a new form on his PC. “Now then Sir what is your name?”
“D’ark Goblin.”
“No Sir, your real name.”
“The Black Goblin.”
“No Sir, your real, real name. You know, goblins usually have names like Crushbug or Boombounce.”
“Bertram Ginster.”
“That doesn’t sound like a goblin name.”
“My mother liked reading Jane Eyre and changed our names by deed poll.”
“What were you before you were Ginster?”
“Furtlesplat.”
“I can see why she changed the name.”
“She changed my first name as well so I wasn’t bullied by other kids.”
“What was that?”
“Floppy.”
“Floppy Furtlesplat, I see what you mean.” The sergeant called for help. Another officer came through. “Can you help Mr. Ginster through the processing process please?”
“Ok Sarge,” said the officer who led the D’ark Goblin into the admissions room of the station. “I thought you were called the Black Goblin? After all that’s what this story is called.”
“I changed my name to cut a deal with the Dark Lord.”
“That sounds wrong somehow. Before we start have you taken any super powered potions in the last 24 hours?”
“Yes.”
“Which ones?”
“Flight and super speed.”
“You’ll have to take a neutraliser potion then, before we can lock you up.” The policeman gave DG a neutralising potion.
DG drank the potion and waited a few seconds. He came to his senses. “What am I doing here?” he asked.
“You’re under arrest.”
“What for?”
“Handing out stolen money I think.”
“How did you catch me?”
“Light Man brought you in.”
“I wouldn’t hand out stolen money. Not for all the tea in China.”
“Are you saying you’ve been wrongfully arrested?”
“Has all the tea in China been accounted for?”
“Yes.”
“Yes then.” D’ark Goblin tried to make a dash for it but was too weak and slow to get away. “I feel as slow as a slug on a sloth.”
“Can you empty you pockets please Mr. Ginster?”
“I've got my rights you know.”
“You may have, but at the minute you are under arrest and in my charge and need to empty your pockets.”
D’ark Goblin started to empty his pockets. There was a bag of marbles, a batarang, a piece of green cheese, a can of CS spray, a spare domino mask, some mouth freshener (for the lady goblins), a camera phone, lots of money in $100 bills and jelly babies in case he went time travelling in a blue police box.
“Why have you got your marbles in a bag?”
“So I don't lose them.”
“Have you been accused of losing your marbles before?”
“When I was bullied as a kid.”
“Are you trying to say you were psychologically affected as a kid because of bullying and that is why you are a criminal now?”
“I wasn’t but I will do if it’s a good defence.”
“Why do you have CS spray?”
“To defend myself against criminals.”
“Why do you need that? You are in the Evil League. Surely it is not them you are afraid of?”
“No, it’s muggers. If I lose my super powers in an unsavoury place then I can get beaten up and robbed, so I take a can of pepper spray with me.”
“I thought you were good at martial arts?”
“When you lose your powers you feel weak and wobbly. As evidenced by my performance just now.”
The officer put the D’ark Goblin’s items into an envelope.
“Those jelly babies will go off if I’m in here too long,” said the Goblin, “Can I eat them now?"
“Oh go on then, seeing as there’s only two of them. How do you eat them?”
“What do you mean?”
“Heads first or feet first?”
“I swallow them whole like this,” he said as he gulped them both down. “Why do you ask?”
“Heads are for extroverts, tails are for introverts.”
“What’s the whole thing mean?”
“You’re a monster?”
“With super powers,” said the D’ark goblin as grabbed his personal items, barged the policeman out of the way and broke through the door.
“How did you get your powers back?” asked the confused officer.
“The Jelly Babies were hardened super power potions, specially mixed by the Mixer.” The Goblin ran through the door and flew back to the embassy.
“That was a bit of bad luck,” said the sergeant to the officer.
“A bit of a mix up by the mixer made that trickster mix me up.”
The Emperor called the Black Goblin to his private office. “Now then Goblin, what’s all this I hear about you being captured by Light Man and escaping from the police?”
“It is as you say.”
“I know you are on my personal
staff and have diplomatic immunity but this sort of behaviour only
serves to stir up greater criticism of me and my country.”
“Sorry Sir, it was that darned goodness potion. You can’t lie or
steal or be violent or swear; it’s worse than being a Christian. At
least if you’re a Sunday Christian you can lie and steal, swear and
be violent for the other 6 days of the week.”
“I am running a business here Goblin and I need you to make me money. You will not make me money if you are incarcerated will you.”
“No Sir, it won’t happen again, unless I have a conversion experience.”
“Yes, well make sure you don’t. I thought I had you tested for that before you joined the Evil League?”
“Yes you did.”
“As I remember you got the lowest score possible for spirituality. How do you explain that?”
“I cheated.”
As the Goblin exited the office Lord D’ark was waiting for him, “Goody two shoes potion worn off early has it?”
“The cops made me take a neutralising potion while I was under the influence of goodness.”
“You’re lucky you had your jelly baby potions with you.”
“How do you know about them? They’re supposed to be secret.”
“It just came on over the news, they interviewed the policeman, quite confused he was. Are we going to do a job together or are you just going to mess around all the time?”
“I mustn’t get caught again or I’ll make the emperor angry. I don’t like him when he’s angry.”
“Nobody likes him when he’s angry. That’s why his mother had to let him play with a small South American country when he was a boy.”
“South Vespuccian, you’re in a different dimension.”
“Let’s do an easy caper together then.”
“What do you suggest?”
“We could raid the mobile phone factory.”
“I don’t need a mobile phone, besides we’d have to steal millions of the things to get a big enough return.”
“No, I mean the mobile phone recycling factory. They get scrap gold from the old phones and store it on site. There could be up to a 500K in gold there.”
“Come to the phone recycling factory,” said D’ark Goblin in a sarcastic advertising voice whilst twiddling his fingers, “to get Phone Gold 4U.”
“Oh very good DG, almost as good as the real advert, pity you didn’t get the finger twiddling right, you looked as though you were doing a puppet theatre and you’d forgotten the puppet.”
“Don’t we need to plan it properly?” asked the Goblin.
“Why do we want to do a stupid thing like planning?"
“So we don’t get caught.”
“Paff, as if we will get caught.”
“I don't want to get told off by the Emperor for being arrested again. I think we need to plan it. In fact I won’t do it unless we plan it.”
“We haven’t got time to plan it, it’s nearly the end of the story.”
“Let’s go to Planning Man.”
“Is he on the Council?”
“No but he can plan a knees up with one elastic band and a fruit corner.”
“He must be good then, I’d be pushed to organise a party with a keg of ale and a McDonalds menu.”
They both flew up to the Planner’s room. The Goblin knocked.
“Come in,” was the reply.
They both entered to a vista of maps pinned to the Walls and stacks of unusual books.
“What do you two want?” he asked, “I am trying to plan my lunch.”
“Sorry," burbled the Goblin, "we wanted a quick plan."
“Stop snivelling Goblin,” said Lord D’ark. He then spoke to the Planner, “We want to do a quick job on the mobile phone recycling factory and Sniveller here said we should ask you about a plan.”
“In through the office roof. Blow the safe with C4 or lift the safe out, exit. Now let me get on with planning my lunch.”
DL and DG exited. As he left DG mumbled a, “Thanks.”
“I could have come up with that plan,” moaned Lord D’ark.
“That was off the top of his head.”
“He’s off the top of his head if you ask me,” said D’ark as they both flew towards the mobile phone recycling factory.
“What happens if they see us on CCTV cameras?” asked the Goblin.
“We’re both dressed in black with face masks on and wearing sunglasses, they won’t recognise us.”
“But our costumes are very distinctive, mine has pointy goblin ears.”
“Don’t smile, make your ears pointier and make out you’re the Black Elf. You didn’t use to worry like this. Just calm down,” soothed the D’ark Lord as he crashed through the reinforced concrete roof of the office. “The door was jammed, I had to make another one,” he said to the stunned manager who was covered in dust and debris.
“Can you still manage?” asked the D’ark Goblin of the manager before he knocked his lights out.”
“Have you got the C4?”
“No, have you?”
“No. We’ll have to carry the safe.”
“We can lift it with our super strength but we might not be able to fly with it.”
They both lifted the safe easily but when they tried to fly away they could only manage a hover.
“Wonderful,” moaned D’ark, “we’ll have to hover out of here.”
“Hang on a minute. I could throw the safe up to you on the bit of the roof that hasn’t collapsed. You could catch it then we could hover across the rooves.”
“That’s a bit of an archaic spelling for multiples of roof isn’t it?” said D’ark as he hopped onto the roof.
The D’ark Goblin threw the safe to the D’ark Lord who managed to catch it without the rest of the roof collapsing. He then joined his partner and each grabbing a side of the safe they hovered and bumped across the rooves of the factory.
The Goblin seemed to be having trouble even with hovering.
“Stop goofing on the roofing,” said D’ark, then when he looked down he noticed something, “you’ve left grooves on the rooves.”
“Oh I understand why we didn’t use roofs now, the Author wanted to rhyme rooves with grooves.”
Lord D’ark and the D’ark Goblin both leapt from the roof and bounced towards a wooded area. Once they got there Lord D’ark looked behind them, “It wouldn't take a genius to figure out where we’d gone.”
“We may have scuffled from the woods and over the roofs to crash into the office”
“Well done Sherlock what deductive reasoning, you should try for a job at CSI Miami, they need a janitor. Now let’s rip the door off the safe.” He grabbed the handle and pulled with all his might but all he did was rip the handle off.
“Well done Break-lock. At least I wouldn’t have pulled the handle off and broken the lock.”
“We’ll both have to punch it either side at the same time, ready?”
They both got to either side. Lord D’ark counted, “1, 2, 3.” They both punched the door. The safe exploded like a tin of beans being crushed in a landslide victory of the Democratic Party.
When they looked inside there was a gold bar the same size as a mobile phone.
“Wonderful,” griped the D’ark Lord, “we do a job that could be worth 500K and come away with a gold bar worth about 10K.”
As they were looking at the gold bar the Junior Lawful League turned up.
“Be prepared to spit teeth,” said Cybot.
“Wonderful,” said Lord D’ark, “now kids want to beat me to a pulp. I should have stayed at home today and watched ‘Terminator 3’, it would have been less violent.”
Cybot, Captain Holiness, Retro Boy and the Atomic Pimple faced Lord D’ark and the D’ark Goblin. Invisiralé may have been there but you couldn’t tell because she turns invisible.
“Take that Prince of Darkness,” said Cybot as he punched at Lord D’ark.
D’ark dodged the punch, "I am not Dracula Cyburp but Lord D'ark. Get the name right junk heap.”
The Atomic Pimple pressed his pimple and aimed the torrent in the direction of the Goblin. The D'ark Goblin managed to duck and the sticky goo hit a tree.
“Eugh!” exclaimed the Goblin, “You need something for that acne. Have you tried cutting your head off?”
Retro Boy did a quick sequence of flashy Kung Fu moves.
“Been watching ‘Enter the Dragon’ have we?” said the D’ark Goblin as he did a roundhouse kick on Retro boy.
Retro took the kick full force which sent him back against the sticky tree, “I’m stuck in the sticky tree,” he cried.
Cybot grabbed Lord D’ark’s arms and tried to hold them. Lord D’ark lifted his arms slowly. “Your cyber strength is no match for my potioned super strength.” He easily broke Cybot’s hold and pushed him back.
Captain Holiness flew down on Fullness his flaming horse. The horse stamped on D’ark and sent him back against the sticky tree, “I’m stuck in the sticky tree as well,” he groaned.
The Goblin, seeing things were not going his way ate another Jelly Baby and disappeared.
“He’s turned invisible,” said the Atomic Pimple, “can Invisiralé see him? She’s invisible.”
“I haven’t seen her all day,” said Retro boy, “I think she’s poorly, so her invisibility isn’t working properly and so she’s stayed at home.”
Lord D’ark screamed at the D’ark Goblin, “If you run out on me now Goblin the partnership is over. Do you hear me? Over. And you can’t call yourself D’ark Goblin any more. Do you hear me?”
The Black Goblin slipped out of the woods and flew back to the embassy. At least he would be in time for the nine o’ clock film and any leftover afters.
You can follow me on Twitter @SJennison_Smith
On Wattpad http://www.wattpad.com/user/StephenJennison-Smith
Look at my website www.stephensstories.co.uk
And follow my blog at http://stephenjennisonsmith.blogspot.com