Books written by Ray Sullivan

Friday, 24 February 2012

Project: Evil - The Trade Convention part 4

‘Ladies and gentlemen; thugs and thieves, please put your hands together as I introduce the head of anti-Megalomaniac research at MI6, the effeminately named Kew’ As the room erupted into applause Kew staggered onto stage with a Zimmer frame for support.  He took over the microphone from the Minister.
‘Good afternoon and thank you for inviting me.  Just for the record, my names Ronald Blenheim-Fortesque, but everybody calls me Kew. We don’t usually meet up, and when you do it’s generally in my lab when I’m testing something like this,’ he said, waving an arm over the frame.  ‘As you can see it’s a Zimmer frame, standard NHS issue, as used by my favourite customer, James Bund,’ he said.  Pointing to a protruding button on the side of one of the legs, he continued.
‘As  James is starting to feel the ravages of time he can easily use one of these as realistic camouflage when trying to infiltrate your organisations, without you knowing that it contains a number of weapons.  I’ve modelled it on the one my wife uses now, and in fact you may have seen her using hers as she was browsing the Women’s Institute Poisoned Cake stalls earlier today as she is one of their judges.  Anyway, the button on this side, as with the opposite side button, is used to raise or lower the frame – users need to do that periodically for comfort.  However, on this model, I’ve made a few adjustments.’  He raised the Zimmer frame up, pointing at the crowd who, to a person, drew a gun and pointed it at Kew.
‘Whoa! Steady.  I’m not going to use this, it’s the only one in existence and James may need it any day, mightn’t he Scaramouch?’ he said, staring at the evil megalomaniac stood near the back.  Brian turned and swore that Scaramouch blushed as he rubbed his nippleless torso.
‘Anyway, if you see James pushing this button and the legs are pointing at you, then you’d better be ready to duck as it fires point four-four magnum rounds.  The other one,’ he said, putting the Zimmer frame down, ‘sets off a delayed explosion, giving everyone in the vicinity a maximum of three seconds to get clear,’ he added as he pointed to the button, then stumbled forward.
‘Oops,’ he said, as he grabbed the frame for stability, standing gawkishly as the crowd dived behind the seats for cover, chanting ‘One and two and ...’  After a few seconds, when nothing had happened they all stood again to see Kew holding the frame upside down, one leg clearly shorter than the other, looking confused.
‘Must be a fault in the design,’ he said, apologetically, putting the frame back down.  ‘Anyway, we have lots of other devious devices to delect you with should you take your plans too far, so hope to see you all some time soon,’ he said, to a ripple of polite applause.
Daw grabbed Brian’s arm.
‘Time we were moving, otherwise all the coaches will be hi-jacked,’ he said, noting Brian’s look.  ‘Convention tradition. If we’re early enough, I might hi-jack a couple myself,’ he added.  As they passed the general stall area there was an explosion, pushing them both to the ground.
‘Are you OK?’ asked Brian, seeing masses of red ooze over Daw’s face.  Daw reached up and dragged a finger through it.
‘Raspberry jam, mixed with clotted cream,’ he said, scraping some gateaux off his suit.  ‘Of course I’m not OK, my cholesterol is already way too high,’ he answered, dragging Brian out of the convention.
The characters, companies and places referred to in Project: Evil are fictitious and any resemblance to people, companies, businesses or places is entirely coincidental

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