Day 18: Temple of the Dog

I didn't get much writing done Thursday.  I spent half the day getting ready for Norwescon and alternately goofing off and playing Guild Wars 2.  Once at the con I registered, immediately went to dinner, got stuff into the room and went to several panels -- no time to write.

I did better on Friday.  I spent half the day working on Grandpa Anarchy The Musical Act III on my iPad, and in the evening used the laptop to bash out another story, Temple of the Dog.  I had some vague idea that this was going to be a play on the "your princess is in another castle" joke, but I didn't like the ending when I got there and so I reworked it a bit to add more punch.  I'm not sure if it was a complete success, but I had fun with the sidekick, Non-Sequiter Lass.

Unpossible Man stared up at the demonic stone gargoyles and the strangely-carved pillars.  The gullet of the temple was like an open wound, festering with darkness that seemed to seep into the ground.  The air felt slick and greasy.  The place reeked of rotting flesh.

"Neat!" Unpossible Man exclaimed.  He held up his smartphone and snapped a picture.

Grandpa and Deep Fat Fryer stared at their companion. "Really?" Grandpa asked.  "We stand before what may well be a portal into hell, and all you can say is 'neat'?"

"Stonework like this is always cool," said Unpossible Man.  "Just look at the eyes on those things -- as if they were alive!  Every scale is perfectly rendered, down to minute details!  You can practically smell their vile breath!"  He grinned and added, "Stuff like this always gets me jazzed.  Evil temples never skimp on the details, they never disappoint.  You don't get master craftsman and artisans like they used to enslave in the old days."

"It's an evil temple to an evil god," said Grandpa.  "Once you've seen one, you've seen them all."

"But what if the Babalonians had shared their knowledge of batteries?" asked Non-Sequiter Girl.

"Hang on," said Deep Fat Fryer.  "Laranuu  the Spider Dog?  Don't you mean Spider God?"

"No," said Grandpa, and strode into the temple.

Once your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you noticed that the walls glowed with weak light from flourescent lichen.  By this dim glow they saw the statue in the main hall -- an eight-limbed beast with compound eyes and a canine form.  The slathering jaws jutted with hundreds of jagged, sharklike teeth.

"Laranuu the Spider Dog," said Grandpa.

"So it is," said Deep Fat Fryer.  Unpossible Man snapped another picture.

I spent more time working on Grandpa Anarchy The Musical Act III this morning.  Everything's written except the villain's swan song.  I had another fun sidekick for the final scene:  Boy Redundant Lad.  He turned out to be quite useful -- anything Grandpa needed, he had three of.

The ship began to list.  Minions were fleeing now, paying no attention to Grandpa Anarchy and his sidekick.  The bodies of many of their companions lay on the deck already, crushed or bit in half by the giant centipedes.  The soldiers leaped from the deck of the ship, deploying parachutes once they were free of the burning structure.

"Kid," said Grandpa, eyeing a giant centipede.  "You got a harpoon gun in all of that equipment you carry?"

"Yes, Mr. Anarchy Grandpa Anarchy Sir, yes I do!" Boy Redundant Lad replied.  "I have five!"

"Just need one for now," said Grandpa.  He took the weapon and aimed.  The harpoon struck a centipede in the head.  It thrashed, knocking minions and a second centipede from the ship's deck.  Grandpa grabbed a second speargun and shot another of the beasts.

By now the deck was listing badly.  "Better grab a couple of parachutes off the dead," said Grandpa.  "We'll need them in a minute."

"Yes Sir, Mr. Anarchy Grandpa Anarchy Sir!  I have three, plus the two built into my costume!"