02 November 2008
Lord Likely vs Lord Loathsome
So there we were: Lord Loathsome, murderous villain and knob-end of the highest order, and myself – Lord Likely, Aristocratic Adventurer and all-round ruddy fantastic fellow indeed, facing off against one another in the bell-tower of my old school, St. Bumthrusty’s.
Loathsome, being the utterly indefensible weasel that he is, had already gotten the first blow in, sending me flat on my back, leaving me now looking down the troublesome end of a pistol pointed at my handsome face by the cad himself.
Meanwhile, my dithering man-servant, Botter, had gotten himself kidnapped by Loathsome, and was currently manacled to the inside of the school’s mighty bell, facing a gruesome pummeling from the bell’s clapper when six o’clock came around, which was in less than four minutes’ time.
Truly, things were looking distinctly shit-coloured for your noble narrator.
“Where shall I shoot first?” sneered Loathsome. “Shall I put a hole right through your face? I am sure the incredibly vain Lord Likely would not approve of that….no, wait! I have a better idea! Why don’t I blast your precious cock-end right off? Let us see how popular you prove to be without a penis, eh?”
Luckily for me, Loathsome’s inane prattling had bought me sufficient time to regain my breath, and so as he pointed his pistol at my proud Lord Palmerston, I swung a leg up and kicked the weapon from his hand, sending it ricocheting off of the school bell, before it disappeared down the hole below.
“Bastard!” hissed Loathsome.
“Lord Bastard, if it is all the same to you,” I retorted as I clambered to my feet. “Now, shall we proceed? I am rather keen to kick your posterior into next week.”
“Gladly,” replied Loathsome, and then he charged at me.
Despite having been rather winded from Loathsome’s earlier assault, I managed to deftly dodge the cad as he lunged at my good self, and delivered a most powerful punch to his face, which sent him crashing to the floor.
With Loathsome momentarily out for the count, I scooped my cane up off of the floor and headed behind the school’s bell, where there was a rather large and rather complex clockwork mechanism, which I assumed operated the bell when the clock struck the hour. After deliberating whether or not my man-servant’s miserable life was worth ruining a perfectly good cane for, I decided that seeking new help would be far more bother than seeking a new stick, and so thrust the cane inbetween some of the cogs operating the machinery. There was a low moaning sound as the cogs tried to continue turning despite the presence of my rigid rod, but happily, my cane held firm, and the entire mechanism ground to a juddering halt.
As I proudly surveyed my excellent handiwork, I was suddenly sent tumbling to the ground once more as that nefarious prick, Harold Loathsome, snuck up on me and swept my legs from beneath me. I was getting rapidly tired of being acquainted with the floor so regularly, and so kicked the swine in the knee, and then booted him in the chin. The cad fell to the floor like the sack of shit he so clearly was.
“You shall pay for your loathsome acts…Loathsome,” I declared, rather inelegantly.
“Oh really? And who is the real villain here, Likely?” Loathsome coughed as he struggled back up from the ground. “Is it really me, just because I murdered a few people? Or is it you, for creating me by bullying and mocking me through all of my school years?“
“I would have to say it is you who is the real villain,” I reasoned, quite reasonably. “Yes, yes. ‘Tis definitely you, no question about it.”
“Well, then…I shall feel no remorse about sending you to your grave then,” Loathsome exclaimed, and then he was suddenly brandishing a knife, which he tried to plunge into my chest. I put up an arm to block such a move, and then roared in pain as the blade entered my limb.
“You cocking piss-hole!” I yelled. “That really rather stung, you know.”
With Loathsome’s knife still protruding from my stricken arm, I grabbed the fiend by his lapels and then hurled him against a nearby window, which had been boarded up for reasons unknown. The wood splintered as Loathsome’s body slammed against it, but before he could recover I was upon him again, grabbing him by his lank, greasy hair, and slamming his head into the remaining boards.
“This…is…for…ruining…a…perfectly…good…suit!” I cried, each word punctuating a fresh attempt to batter Loathsome’s bonce against the wood. “And…this…is…for…ruining…a…perfectly…good…arm!” I continued.
Loathsome, somewhat bleary and bloodied by now, somehow managed to struggle free from my grasp, and then he took me by my injured arm and flung me against the window. The rest of the wood broke apart, and I was left half-hanging out of the glassless window behind. I felt a chilly, autumnal breeze across my face, and saw the considerable drop waiting below. However, I had no time to observe the view before I was pulled back in by my enraged nemesis, who spun me around to face him.
“This is it, Likely!” he cackled, an evil smirk upon his lips. “This is where we must part ways, I’m afraid. I would say it has been a pleasure to see you again, but frankly, it has not!”
I tried to think of a witty retort, but I was beginning to feel rather queasy and light-headed as my precious blood seeped from the wound in my arm.
“You wanker,” was all I could manage, before Loathsome pushed me back out of the window. As I fell backwards, however, I grabbed Loathsome’s wrist, which took the cove quite by surprise.
And then we fell together.
I awoke with a start, and saw nothing but sky. Where was I? What was going on? Was I in Heaven?
I moved my head to the left, and saw Loathsome lying next to me, seemingly unconscious. Clearly I was not in Heaven, then. Was I in Hell? Curses, I thought. I knew all that masturbating would catch up with me one day.
I slowly sat up, wincing as pain shot through every muscle in my body. Once I was sat upright, I saw that I was not in Hell, either. I was sat outside St. Bumthrusty’s, surrounded by a group of shocked onlookers. Clearly, I had not been out cold for long.
“What are you doing down there?” a voice cried from above. I gingerly looked up, to see Inspector Spunkleford looking down at me from the bell-tower window from which I had just plummeted.
“What are you doing up there?” I shouted in return.
“I came up to help you out!” Spunkleford yelled.
“Well, better late than never, I suppose.” I replied.
“What?”
“Oh, never mind! I shall talk to you when you get back down here!”
“What?”
“I said…”
“Never mind, Likely!” Spunkleford echoed. “I shall talk to you when I get back down there!”
I rolled my eyes in disbelief at the detective’s deplorable dimness, then all of a sudden I found Loathsome back upon me, his hands wrapped firmly around my throat.
“I”m not finished with you yet, Likely!” the wretch snarled, his grip tightening. “I shall not be finished until you are finished!”
“Fucking hell!” I gasped. “Why are you not ruddy well dead?”
“I shall not rest until I’ve completed my life’s work, and ended the life of the Lords Likely!”
“Luh-Lords?” I wheezed.
“Why yes,” Loathsome grinned, his grip as solid as steel. “After I have wiped you off this earth, I shall go after your father…”
“I…I think yuh-you’ll find muh-my father’s already duh-duh-dead, Loathsome!”
“Oh no, Likely. No, no no. He’s very much alive, at least for the moment. I saw him in – “
Suddenly, there was a loud cracking sound, and Loathsome’s eyes rolled upwards in their sockets, and then he slumped off of me, unconscious once more.
“Apologies for the delay there, Likely,” said Spunkleford, standing in front of me, proudly brandishing his truncheon. “We took a wrong turn and wound up in the toilets.”
“Spunkleford, you anus!” I coughed, as air filled my lungs. “That bloody cock-bag was about to tell me where my father is!”
“Oh,” Spunkleford said, evidently crestfallen. “Um, sorry, old boy.”
“Well, I suppose you did mean well,” I said, as Spunkleford helped me to my feet. “I shall refrain from kicking you in the plums this once.”
“Jolly good!” Spunkleford brightened. “By the way, did you ever find Botter?”
“Oh!” I exclaimed, as I remembered that my man-servant was still shackled to the inside of the school bell. But then I also recalled the amount of uneccessary worry he had caused me, and decided that leaving him where he was might serve as a clear reminder that he should not get kidnapped again. “Yes…yes I did, Inspector. He is fine, we can retrieve him…later. Much later.”
“Oh, well, huzzah!” Spunkleford cheered. “Well then, I sppose we should get you to a hospital, eh?”
“Not right now, my dear inspector,” I said. “Right now I think I would very much like to have a rather more intimate school reunion with that delightful young lady I met earlier…”
Spunkleford raised a quizzical eyebrow.
“By that I mean I plan to pump her roughly,” I added for clarity.
Spunkleford shook his head in weary resignation, and I staggered off to get my noble end away.
- Lord Likely.
Next Time in The Astonishing Adventures of Lord Likely: Come one, come all, and celebrate the Likely Bicentennial!
humor-blogs.com is the real villain, of course.
Hungry for more inter-net based fiction? Then may I suggest you peruse The Web Fiction Guide, Pages Unbound or The Blog Fiction Blog, all of which are thoroughly excellent, due in no small part to the fact that I am listed with them all. Huzzah!
