6cndluo (and Other Flash Fiction) Anthology Read online

  "It looks like the dwarf copper has had too many doughnuts and fallen asleep on the road on the job."

  "We might wake him up and then he will see that we have a squink on the front of the junk mobile and know we've been hunting without a licence," wittered Wobble.

  "Stop wittering Wobble, Wibble stop him wittering and wobbling."

  "I wasn't wobbling," wobbled Wobble.

  "You are now."

  Wibble cuddled Wobble to try to calm him down and sang, "Wibble de wibble de wobble," gently in Wobble's ear.

  "Brotherly love," commented Chop.

  "Yeah," said Idunno, "they were both in the same batch. Wasn't that one that went a bit wrong? I think I remember that that particular batch had something genetically wrong with it. Instead of there being the usual cutthroats, murderers and thieves there were unusually poets, writers and artists."

  "Are you calling Wibble a poet?" asked Ugbash, "With what he's singing now I would say that there was nothing wrong with the batch." He looked back at the road, "Can you go up on the verge a bit?"

  Idunno tried to skirt the drowsy dwarf by going up on the verge but he got stuck.

  "Aww," moaned Ugbash, "what's the matter with this stupid junk mobile. It's a piece of junk if you want to ask me."

  The dwarf policeman stirred a little.

  "He's stirring a little," mentioned Pan Head.

  "And without a spoon," joked Chop.

  "Stop joking Chop," ordered Ugbash, "and help us push the junky junk mobile."

  The other five goblins pushed as hard as they could on the junk mobile which gradually got dislodged from the verge.

  "It's those extendable arm thingies you have on the sides that got stuck in the verge," noticed Ugbash, "what are they for anyway?"

  "Idunno," said Idunno, "they were already on the vehicle when I bought the frame from the scrap yard. I think they add a certain je ne sais quois to the vehicle."

  "As if junk can have a certain je ne sais quois whatever that means."

  "I do not know what."

  "Oh, you don't either then."

  "No it means 'I do not know what,' meaning it has an indefinable certain something that you can't describe."

  "I can describe it, it's a piece of junk."

  The car backfired as Ugbash spoke.

  "There there Petunia," calmed Idunno as he stroked the dashboard.

  "PETUNIA!" exclaimed Ugbash, "what a stupid name."

  The car burbled and backfired again.

  "If you don't stop insulting her you'll wake the sleeping policeman up," warned Idunno.

  Ugbash crossed his arms and grimaced as they continued on to the Dark Lord's castle.

  The Dark Lord's castle loomed in the distance as it started to rain. "Just our luck," said Ugbash, "a nice day so far and we get drenched at the end."

  "At least it'll wash the dust off the squink," said Idunno as he drove through the servant's entrance. He drove up to the back kitchen door.

  "Come on then, let's get it off," ordered Ugbash.

  Wibble, Wobble, Pan Head and Chop all untied a leg as the rain siled down.

  "That's a bit of a colloquialism isn't it Author?" noted Ugbash.

  Wibble and Wobble drag/carried it into the kitchen to the chef.

  Chef Thumper looked at the bedraggled goblins with their fare, "What's this then?"

  "Squink for the Dark Lord's evening dinner," said Ugbash as he wiped the rain from his face.

  "Ahh, very good, but Lord D'ark wanted squirk not squink. Didn't you read the first line of this story?"

  "Major Bash told us 'e wanted squink!" exclaimed Idunno.

  "Well that's as maybe, but he got it wrong. Lord D'ark wants squirk for his tea."

  "That means were for the chop," said Chop.

  "You're lucky son," said the chef, "the Major realised his error and hunted one himself locally. I'm roasting it now." He looked over to the spit where there was a boar like animal, a bit like a targ, roasting.

  "Whew," whewed Ugbash, "that was close."

  "I'll be able to cook the squink for your tea if you wish," said Thumper as he thumped Ugbash in the arm.

  Ugbash grimaced again, "Ok then, as long as we can have ice cream afterwards."

  "And I don't have to clean the urinals," said Pan Head, "at least until tomorrow."

  So they all waited for an hour and a half then ate roast squink with chives and ice cream for afters.

  Goblin Space Marines

  Somebody, we don't know who, had managed to stop the black hole eating all of the surrounding planets near the meteor field where Arthur and the others used to have their space base placed in the second book.

  Lord D'ark's chocolate empire of evil was no more but there was still a big presence of D'ark's hirelings and soldiers who were fiercely loyal to what was left of his company. Though his company had folded he had secret funds stashed away that the new triumvirate could use to maintain the large amount of personnel who relied on D'ark Corp for a living. The triumvirate wanted to increase it's holdings through war and not by business as it had done in the past. A Goblin space marine platoon, led by Sergeant Grimly of the 440th Death's Nose Battalion, had been sent to attack an elven listening outpost that guarded a valuable trade route. His platoon consisted of six space marines, Bip, Bop and Battam, Ugz, Bugz and Tongs. Bip was the pilot of the interstellar shuttle and he had brought it in to land about a mile from the listening post rather bumpily.

  "That was rather bumpily," noted Bop, "Why do we have to be so far away?"

  "Talk proper," said the Sergeant, "rather bumpier. Besides we need a bit of a slog to keep ourselves fit, and an interstellar shuttle landing on the listening base would definitely tip them off," replied the Sergeant.

  "I'd rather blow up the base from the air than have to shoot my way through a pile of smarmy elves," moaned Tongs.

  "Why did you become a goblin space marine then Tongs? You don't seem to have any fight in you."

  "I think my profile was mixed up with somebody else's, I wanted to be lumberjack, swinging from tree to tree."

  "Monty Python reference noted. I'll see if I can get you a transfer to the D'ark logging division."

  "But that would mess up the funny pronunciation of our names. It would no longer be Bip, Bop, Battam, Ugz, Bugz and Tongs."

  "I'll have to get an aptly named goblin clone to replace you. Let me think," he thought for a moment, "Lugz the big eared one?"

  "Hugs the tree friendly one," suggested Bop.

  "Smugz the smarmy one," thought Bip.

  "Thugz the violent one," opted Battam, "I like Thugz, he's nearly as violent as me."

  "Or you could have Suggs from Madness," said Tongs, "it might be good to have somebody on the team who can actually sing."

  "Ooh, that's a bit of a stretch to try and make that one fit, besides, I don't think his recording contract would let him come into this dimension and there's probably a clause in it saying he can't go to war against elves. Recording contracts have obscure legalities within them. Like the one about gauze in a chocolate factory," warbled Grimly.

  "Clauses for gauzes?" tried to pun Ugz.

  "You were trying to pun horses for courses there and it didn't quite work did it, young fellow me chap?"

  "Er Bugz tried, but me just want to kill elves, me is getting bored. Please let me kill elves?"

  When they had got to within 50 feet of the listening post they saw the bunker entrance close.

  "Oh no," said Sergeant Grimly, "it seems like they've heard us."

  "Well it is a listening post," said Tongs, "so maybe somebody was listening."

  Grimly looked at the bunker, "It seems to be pretty impregnable. Have we got any heavy weapons with us?"

  "Rocket launcher?" suggested Bop.

  "OK, aim it at the door but get a bit closer first."

  Bop went to within 10 feet of the door.

  Grimly stood up, "Not that close. We want you to bust the bunker not the bunker to bust you!"

  Bop retreated 30 feet and looked back at Grimly and Grimly gestured his approval. "Maybe I should have let him do it from 10 feet. It might have knocked some sense into him," grimaced Grimly.

  "It might have knocked him into little pieces," said Bip.

  Bop fired the rocket and was still knocked over by the blast. When the dust had settled there was not a scratch on the bunker door.

  "Must be made of tritanium," thought Bip.

  "Must be," agreed Bugz.

  Grimly looked to the others, "What have we got on the ship?"

  "Nothing," said Ugz, "but the ship does fire tortion rounds."

  "Oh yeah, they were mentioned in the second book weren't they. I don't think they're heavy duty enough."

  "Not like you Sergeant," quipped Tongs.

  "I am portly not fat!" he retorted.

  "Let's use Battam as a battering ram. He's got a head as hard as nails," said Ugz.

  "Unless he's got a head as hard as tritanium then he won't do," rued Grimly.

  "I've got some plastic explosives," announced Bugz.

  "C4?"

  "We don't call it that in this dimension. It's called Crumbly Bumbly 4."

  "Sounds more like a dessert," noted Grimly, "will it work?"

  "The amount I've got could blow the brains off a biscuit."

  "When did biscuits get brains? That's a little too surreal for me, but if you think it'll work then have a go."

  Bugz attached the Crumbly Bumbly 4, which we now call C4 to the central part of the door.

  "It's Crumbly Bumbly Author not C4," chastened Bugz.

  As I should have said before, Bugz attached Crum Bumb 4 to the door.

  Bugs sighed a little but set the charge.

  "How far back do we have to stand?" asked Grimly.

  "50 feet should do."

  They stayed where they were and were joined by Bugz who pressed a button on the hand control to detonate the charge. They all ducked and were covered in dust and dirt. When they looked up they had blown a huge hole in the ground in front of the bunker door, but the door remained unscratched.

  "I think you would have had more effect if you had used my Mother-in-law's apple crumble instead," declared Grimly. He thought for a moment, "Well I'm stumped now, ideas anyone?"

  Tongs spoke up, "What about putting some gas down the air intakes? It should choke them out."

  "Good idea," remarked Grimly, "but I don't suppose the air intakes will be easy to find, not like in 'Escape from Athena'."

  "We've only got smoke grenades," warned Bip. "They also may have contingencies for such an attack."

  "Contingencies, contingencies, I wish we had contingencies," grimbled Grimly. "Alright, three groups of two, scout for the air vent/s. I'll stay here to see if any pointy eared folk stick their heads out of the door. Keep comms on so I can call you back if needed. Go."

  Bip teamed up with Bop, Ugz with Bugz and Battam with Tongs. They split up in a triangular pattern. Bip and Bop went to the North.

  "What we looking for Bip?" asked Bop.

  "Maybe something like a metal tube sticking out of the ground, although it might be disguised."

  "What as, a rabbit?"

  "No, maybe a rock."

  "Brighton Rock?"

  "A nasty brutish little film that."

  "I was making a joke, I meant the hard sugar confectionary."

  "So was I, I was pretending you meant the film with Sir Richard Attenborough in it."

  "He wasn't a Sir at the time though was he?"

  "It doesn't matter, he became one subsequently so the correct form of social etiquette is to call him Sir."

  "How come you're up on your etiquette and social interactions?"

  "I was trained to be a house goblin in the fantasy dimension before I joined the marines. I've served on Lords and Ladies, Counts and Countesses."

  "Barons and Baronesses?"

  "Yes."

  "Viscounts and Viscountesses?"

  "Yes."

  "Ducks and Duckesses?"

  "Yes, yes. I mean no. Surely you mean Dukes and Duchesses?"

  "Do I? I get muddled up with my terms of nobility. I was trained to be a boxer."

  "Was it any good?"

  "They made me bite people and live in a kennel."

  "Did they think you were a boxer dog?"

  "I suppose so. Their pay was terrible but you could sleep all day unless you had to bite someone."

  Just then they came upon an unusual looking tree.

  "This suspiciously looks like a camouflaged vent to me," thought Bip.

  "It just looks like an unusual looking tree to me."

  "Well let's see if it is. If it is then it will have some form of protection, a force field, an electric field."

  Bop touched the unusual looking tree and was hurled to the ground by an electric shock.

  "Well, now we know we've found an air vent. Thank you Bop."

  "N..n..no problem," said Bop, his hair standing on end.

  "You couldn't do that again could you Bop?"

  "N...n...no."

  "I was joking really. Now we need to think of a way we can discharge or bypass an energy field."

  "Can't we just throw the smoke canister down the hole?"

  "It's protected with the force field. I know what, we'll link your pulse weapon up to it. It'll charge your weapon and reduce the field."

  "Why mine?"

  "I had the idea."

  "What if I had the idea?"

  "You would have as much an idea to bypass an energy field using a pulse weapon and a pair of dog tags as a tagged dog trying to charge a bypass in a field of pulses owned by an electricity company."

  "That might have been a little bit funny if it had not been so contrived. Anyway, we don't use dog tags, we all have bar codes."

  "I keep a set of dog tags on me in case we ever get stuck in the war dimension." Bip took Bop's pulse weapon off him, laid it as near to the field as he dared, then breached the gap with dog tags, "Ok, put the canister down the hole."

  "Why me?"

  "Because you keep asking 'Why me?'"

  Grumpily Bop pulled the ring on the smoke canister and threw it into the vent leading into the air distribution system of the listening post, "Chocks away!"

  The canister clattered and bumped, diddled and thumped down the vent. The sound got quieter. Then, after a few seconds, the sound got louder until a crab bot leapt out of the vent carrying the heavily smoking canister.

  "I thought that would be too young to smoke," coughed Bop.

  "Cough, cough," coughed Bip, "we need to get out of here, pick your pulse weapon up."

  As Bop picked up his weapon he got another big jolt which threw him to the floor again. The crab bot sat on his chest and as he tried to get up it gave him a minor electric shock. "Shoot the thing Bip," he cried as it shocked him again.

  "I can't, it's too close to you, if I hit it, it might explode on you and you'll have no chest."

  "D?d?do sss?sssomething," said the yet again shocked Bop.

  Bip picked up a rock and hurled it at the crab bot, who moved just before it hit. Instead the rock hit Bop on the head, "Owww, you're supposed to kill IT not ME!"

  A waft of smoke blew over Bop. Bip tried to fan it away then bashed the crab bot off Bop's chest.

  "Arrgh!" Bop cried, "it was still attached."

  "Big baby," said Bip, "you're supposed to be a goblin space marine, 'Brave and tough we're good and rough' is the motto of the 440th."

  "I feel good and roughed up at the moment."

  "Pull yourself together man."

  "I'm not a pair of curtains."

  "Pull yourself up by your bootstraps."

  "That's a paradox."

  "Get a grip."

  "What of?"

  "Your pulse weapon to begin with, it's not near the electric field anymore."

  "Are we going to chuck another one down the vent?"

  "Naw, they've probably got an army of those crab things and we've only got two more smoke grenades."

  As he said that they both heard a lot more banging and rattling from the vent than they had heard before."

  "Run," cried Bip. So they both ran towards the listening outposts main door as an army of crab bots started to spill from the vent.

  Sergeant Grimly spoke through the comm system, "What's going on with you two? All I can make out is that you two are being attacked by what appears to be an army of crab bots."

  "Yes sir," replied Bip, "and they're coming your way."

  "Why are they coming my way?"

  "They are following us."

  "Well that's not good enough, lead them away."

  "But Sir, they are fast and if they overtake us there are too many for us to fight. They will overwhelm us and kill us."

  "You're only clones aren't you? If need be die with honour."

  "But Sir?"

  "That's an order. Over and out. By the way switch your comms off, I don't want to hear your death screams. That's also an order."

  "Yes sir," cried Bip in a mock American soldier's accent. He looked back at Bop as he turned off his comm. Signalling to follow him he pointed the way back to the ship. All the while they were being chased by the crab bot army.

  Bip and Bop ran to the ship fighting the crab bots off as they went. When they got to within fifty feet of the ship Bip turned his comm device on, "Shields up."

  The ships shields came on and protected them from the bulk of the crab bots. Ten had got through though and five of them were attacking Bop by leaping on him. He pulled two off but the others started clinging to his legs, "I?I?I've had a shocking day so far," he juddered.

  Bip crushed two, shot three others then went over to Bop to remove the last three. "Be gentle," asked Bop, "I feel a little fragile."

  Bip set his pulse weapon to stun and shot three times removing the offending crab bots. They fell off in a confused state and started running round in circles. Bop fired five times on full power and blew the remaining crab bots up.

  "Why didn't you use stun when one was on my chest earlier?"

  "I didn't know if it would work, I might have made it angrier."

  "Why'd you take a chance now then?"

  "They were only your legs, if the bots had blown up and injured them badly you could have had some bionic ones like Grimly."

  "They haven't made him better, stronger or faster. He still moves like a hedgehog in a Velcro factory."