Casino Penguin Royale

[Jason B]

Before anyone asks, there "may" have been some alcohol involved. And perhaps a little "herbal" err, tea. Yes, tea

These posts I originally placed on Ray Comfort's site. I have deliberately left them as they were. At the time, I deliberately refused to correct any errors or do any rewrites (with one slight exception, but it is not really relevant). And, in large part, I set out to deliberately commit some horrible obvious mistakes. Will likely all be pretty evident. Not saying its amateurishness is entirely because of that, just that much (some) of it was deliberately so.
Also, I don't know if this will enhance the reading or detract, or have no effect but for me Elder Grimm has the voice of David Mitchell.
On with the first installment...
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Elder Grimm knew that the time had come, the dreaded Nazi penguin hunter Klaus Von Biffel was close.
He called out to the other penguins, alerting them to the danger, a call to arms they had been eagerly waiting for.

First came Nicholas, the agile young penguin with the rapier wit, a hit among the ladies and deadly with a knife in his fin.
Next was Pita, a short girl with the most striking green eyes any man had seen. Looking into them might mean death, for this deadly huntress was a master with poisons and various methods of their delivery which may be mentioned later but will not be outlined here in case I don't think of something now that I think of later and it's really cool and I want to include it but feel limited, that wouldn't be groovy for me.
Last came the rotund bulk of Slim George. George was actually a walrus but he had sass, and Elder Grimm was penguin enough to know that sass counted for a lot, and that made George an honorary penguin in the eyes of their merry band of troublemakers.

The small basement they were in didn't allow much room for them to prepare any serious defenses, but some overturned tables and a massive pile of discarded dodo carcasses gave them some measure of cover.
From the house above came the tramp of nazi jackboots, and the words of the Nazi song they sang came down to the three penguin and one honorary penguin commandos.
"Hit me Baby, ONE MORE TIME"
"Damn those Nazis," spat Nicholas. "That was my favourite song, but now it will always mean Nazi to me. Nazi Nazi Nazi. Nazis are bad. If I clubbed a baby seal, I would almost be as bad as a Nazi. But if a Nazi clubbed a baby seal... GRRRR"
"Calm down, Nick," Elder Grimm warned him. "You know what can happen if you let your anger get the better of you. We all remember what happened that time back when you lost your temper in the Battle of the Bulge which may or may not have happened yet we're currently being a bit vague on the timelines, but next to penguins and Nazi penguin hunters I still think I'm on pretty solid ground with this so far."
"I don't understand most of what you said just then," Nicholas hissed through clenched teeth. "But I dig your vibe, and making me think of my favourite songs reminded me of this sick trance number I heard so I'm kind of letting that calm me."

Then there was the sound of splintering wood and there was no more time to prepare. The first Nazis down the stairs died in a hail of bullets, but soon the penguins were pinned down behind their meager cover.
The deafening sound of machine gun fire stopped, it had started with the firing but despite not being explicitly mentioned till now I expect you will of course have assumed it was when I mentioned bullets, you have to keep up your end of this you know it's not all suspension of disbelief and literary license you know, some of it is just simple hard slog by you, the reader. So just fill in some details yourself, there was moments of doubt, maybe a penguin took a bullet in what seemed like a life-threatening injury but will shortly be revealed to just be a flesh wound or possibly a miss entirely, with previous mentions of a wound being forgotten with a laugh and a smile.
Yes, so all that's happened.
The voice of Von Biffel came down to them from the house above;
"Come out and ve vill let you live."
"I don't believe you," Elder Grimm called back. "Your use of obvious silly accent features like v's instead of a w leaves me doubting your sincerity."
"You leaf me no choice zen. I triet to play nice, but you damn pengvins vill no longer be a dorn in my side! De Zurd Reich vill vin dis voor, ve vill have de Fruttenshpatter! BRING IN ZE VELOCIRAPTORS!"

"Crikey!" said Slim George, "I don't like the sound of that, Boss."
"None of us do, George," Elder Grimm replied, slamming a fresh magazine into his faithful old Browning-Thompson machine gun, his weapon of choice because I remember it well from a number of various FPS titles including but not limited to a number of the Medal of Honor series and I am pretty sure at least 1 of the early Call of Duty titles.
From the house above they heard the squeals and various other sounds made by Velociraptors, as made famous by such films as the Jurassic Park series. Again, you gotta do some of the work, they're Velociraptor sounds, you fill in the gaps.
"We're in trouble," Slim George growled.
"I don't know if Pita will make it, she's lost so much blood!" sobbed Nicholas, referring briefly back to the potentially life-threatening injury I alluded to earlier but which has not yet reached reached the point where it's all okay and possibly just some spilled ketchup and not a wound at all which I also alluded to, somewhat prematurely it seems now but again work with me here just accept that she's hurt, because that always brings out the protective nature you know, oh no the girl is hurt and we're in danger, I must kill everyone and say something pointless but catchy as is my idiom, that sort of thing.

The Velociraptors burst into the basement, each one smartly dressed in a black gestapo death's head uniform, but the death head is like a velociraptor skull not the one you probably think of if you've seen pics of them and whatnot. Close though. Work with me.

And each one held the latest Nazi superweapon, Dr Mobius' deadly rayguns! The Velociraptors began to advance menacingly, the weapons held out before them.
"I think we're done for, Guys," Elder Grimm said. "I knew we would come to regret losing that evil Nazi supervillain Mad Scientist we nearly killed at a previous time but who escaped us at the last minute and I said at that time that he would invent some superweapons for the Nazis that would make us come to regret losing him at that previous time which was the current time at the time I said it but obviously now is a reference to a time in the past, accepting the linear nature of time as it relates to our perceptions."

"I didn't understand most of that, Sir, but I really dig that you said it and you sounded quite sincere so if it came to a vote or something I would back you, and that's not because of the latent penguin homosexual subtext that may or may not be written into my character at a later time if it can be used for comic effect while also yielding a poignant message about current social mores. Oh, and we're all out of ammo. Oh, and Nick said this in case there is no indication of that otherwise."
"I know you said it, Nick, i know your voice. And George has a mouthful of chocolate pudding.
"Now hang on a second, George, where the heck did you get pudding? I mean what the... We're here about to die and you're bringing out meals from nowhere..."
"Sorry, Boss, but I'm fat. So it's like obvious comic effect."
"We're in a basement, about to be shot by Nazi Velociraptors with rayguns!"
Slim George raised an eyebrow, an especially effective physical response on the visage of a walrus honorary-penguin in full suit of traditional Samurai Armor. "You're a penguin, Dude. And we're about the be shot by Nazi Velociraptors with rayguns"
"Point taken, I gotta give you that. We're not going for historical accuracy or authenticity here. Okay, forget all that and keep eating then. Nick, grab your knife and come with me. If we're going down today, we're going down fighting!"
They leapt up together, knives gripped firmly in their fins. The elite Nazi Velociraptors reacted predictably, firing almost as one in a hail of raygun death which no penguin could possible escape... but which is not actually detailed because it has not yet happened, the literary equivalent of a fade to black if you will where the shots are heard just as the blackness descends, a literary device to leave one anticipating the next thrilling installment.

Oh, and in 1924 the 28th US president Woodrow Wilson dies at his home in Washington at 67. And some laws were passed in that year. And in Texas someone raised a barn, somewhere.
And lastly, Elder Grimm's dear half-Polish half-English mother was named Lucy. Irrelevant to the story, but now you know, eh. Mmmmm.

TO BE CONTINUED!

[Jason B]

And day 2...

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"Nick, grab your knife and come with me. If we're going down today, we're going down fighting!" Elder Grimm cried.
"Wait a minute, I see something!"
"Dammit Nick, this is no time to change the story we ended with yesterday!"
"It's okay, Sir, continuity was never my strong point."
Elder Grimm chuckled to himself, even facing death his penguins never lost their cool. He hazarded a glimpse over their cover and saw that the Nazi Velociraptors had stopped their advance and now started to back up, looking uncertainly at each other. Grimm knew fear when he saw it, and he saw it in their beady little Nazi dinosaur eyes. Suddenly emboldened he leapt across the overturned table and channeled all his hatred of Nazi's into his right fin and threw his knife straight at the heart of a Nazi Gestapo Velociraptor.
And the Nazi Gestapo Velociraptor exploded, showering him with blood and Nazi Gestapo Velociraptor gore.
"Wow!" Elder Grimm exclaimed, justifying the use of an exclamation mark and making the mention of it being an exclamation somewhat superfluous.
Then he turned and what he saw made him laugh. Nicholas had done it again, taking them from the jaws of defeat.
"Nick, where did you find that Panzer tank?" Elder Grimm asked.
The hatch popped open and the prankster penguin's head poked out, split in half by a grin.
"It was under the doco carcasses all along, Sir."
"Well, let's not waste time dwelling on small details like how we're in a basement and somehow a pile of dodo carcasses was concealing a Panzer tank... Let's get out of here, and finish our mission. If it wasn't for that damned Nazi penguin hunter, Klaus Von Biffel, we would have completed the job by now."

Just at that moment there was a loud yawn and Pita stood up, revealing that what they had thought was a life threatening bullet wound to her upper torse leaving her lungs exposed, has actually just been a bit of spilled marmalade and some toast crumbs.
"Sorry about that, narcolepsy," she explained.
They all had a laugh over this, and then all climbed into the Panzer tank.

"Where to now, Sir?" Nicholas asked, his fins expertly handling the tank's controls.
"Nick, I think we take advantage of our superior firepower and eliminate the rest of these damn Nazi Gestapo Velociraptors!"
"Aye aye, Sir," Nicholas replied gleefully. "Pita, you feel up to penguining the main gun?"
"You bet I do." Pita replied, moving into position.
The engine roared and the tank's hoverjets burst to life, launching it upwards through the floor of the house. Startled Nazi Gestapo Velociraptors scattered, and the tank rocked again and again as Pita pummeled them with the mighty gun. It's loud report was punctuated by the stoccato bursts of the machine gun, a deadly companion to the main turret and Slim George roared with laughter as he mowed down their foe.
Elder Grimm waited for the firing to end, and then he called his penguins (and honorary penguin) to attention.
"Okay penguins, we've just wiped out an entire battalion of Nazi Velociraptors, and you know what that means."
"Indeed we do, Sir," Nick replied with a smile, reaching for his bag.
Shortly after they each had a drink in their hand. For Pita it was a cosmo, for Slim George it was a bucked of fish guts, for Nick it was his world-famous banana daquiri, and Elder Grimm had his usual ice-chilled bottle of Moet and a fresh cuban cigar.
"War is hell," Elder Grimm said solemnly.
They all toasted this remark and then suddenly Nicholas' smile was gone, and a tear rolled down his cheek.
"What's the matter, Nick?" Elder Grimm asked.
"Well, Sir, it's just that I can't help but think of the Captain at a time like this."
They all nodded somberly, and for a moment it was quiet as they mourned their fallen friend.
"He was a good penguin, a dependable penguin. The kind of penguin you want with you when the bullets start flying. It was a tragedy, what happened. No one could have anticipated that there would be a sperm whale flying across Eastern Europe at that altitude. The way his plane smacked into it... It would have been quick, nothing could have survived that."
"You're right, of course, but still..."
"Dammit Nick, pull yourself together. We've got transport now, we need to move into the next phase of this operation."
"But Sir," Pita interjected, "that means..."
"Yes," Elder Grimm said, popping the hatch and looking up at the night sky.
"We're going to the Moon, and we're going to close down Hitler's baby-mashing factories once and for all!"

"Nick, engage the warp drive." Grimm commanded, strapping himself into the command chair.
"Engaging warp drive, Sir."
The deep rumble of warp vibrated through the Panzer and for a while the force of the thrust pinned them into their seats.
After a time the downward pressure eased, and before much longer Elder Grimm felt his weight shift and knew that if he undid his harness he would float. It wasn't the first time he'd experienced zero-G, but this was wartime and he didn't pause to enjoy it.
"Sir we have something showing on our scanners."
"Bring it up on main screen, Pita."
Grimm stared at the image in front of him for a moment as his companions made various sounds of surprise from Piet's cute and loveable yet slightly fearful gasp, to Slim George's almost deafening "WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!"
On the screen the large object began to turn, and Grimm swore inwardly as he recognized the moustache on the eighty-foot metal monster hurtling toward them.
"Bring the turret to bear, penguins," Elder Grim ordered, his fins tightly gripping the arms of his command chair. And then he said the words he had hoped never to say.
"Mecha Stalin incoming."

TO BE CONTINUED.

[Jason B]

Day 3... I think this was after the weekend off.

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“Panzer tank incoomink,” announced a flat, heavily accented but monotone female voice over the speakers.
Seated in the Command Chair of the most powerful Soviet Mecha ever constructed, Comrade Josef Stalin, Captain of the K-902, gripped the soft leather hand-rests tightly and leaned forward, intently watching the numbers which scrolled across the many screens in front of him.
“Firing solution?” he yelled, looking across at the Tactical Officer.
The brutish features and imposing moustache of Comrade Josef Stalin, Tactical Officer, stared back at him and there was a brief shake of the head.
“Not yet, Comrade Stalin,” Tactical Officer Stalin replied.
Captain Josef Stalin cursed the incompetence of his officer and began to punch at the buttons in front of him. As the finest example of advanced Soviet technology, the system he was using promptly shut down and began to shoot out sparks.
Captain Stalin leapt out of his seat and slammed his fists down on the panel in front of him, sending some stationary and a startled gerbil flying. Mecha Stalin had needed another month before she should have been launched, but Comrade Josef Stalin had set the date and so it had to be met, no matter the cost.
This, he thought to himself as he pondered failing systems and failed components, was the cost.
“Distance to target?” he yelled.
“Somewhere between not too far, and a little bit further than that, Comrade Stalin,’ shouted back Navigation Officer Josef Stalin.
Captain Stalin smiled, he had taken young Stalin under his wing and the young man was fast becoming an integral part of the crew. This brought a feeling of great pride in the veteran Captain.
Inwardly, Captain Stalin made a mental note to have the Navigational Officer “disappear” before his popularity among the crew made him a threat, and to have Tactical Officer Stalin removed and executed for incompetence along with the obligatory “evidence” of his anti-Soviet activities.
Those things would come later, though. For now they had a far more pressing and imminent threat.
“We have a Nazi Panzer tank in front of us, people! It cannot outrun us. It cannot outgun us. It cannot outwit us. In short, I WANT IT DESTROYED!”
“All weapons ready to fire,’ came the report from Tactical Officer Stalin.
Captain Stalin bellowed a deep laugh, now their enemies would feel the power of the Soviet Union. “Prepare to –“
“And they’re gone again. Sorry Captain, all weapon systems are now offline.”
Captain Stalin punched the panel in front of him again and collapsed into his Command chair, throwing up his arms in frustration and disbelief.
“We could open communications and bluff them,” suggested Communications Officer Stalin.
Captain Stalin stared at her for a moment, and the smile spread across his face. He had nothing but admiration for this beautiful young woman, the embodiment of the finest that the Urals have to offer.
For a moment his eyes ran up and down her slim figure and he saw her not as her Commanding Officer, but as a man. Her legs, the point where her spine met her buttocks, the swell of her breasts beneath the tight uniform, and her moustache,<i> ohhh that moustache…</i>
Captain Stalin snapped himself out of it and nodded, forcing his eyes away. He was her Commanding Officer and he needed to behave accordingly. What happened in the Ukraine, as they say, stayed in the Ukraine. It had been an unforgettable week, but now was not the time to reminisce.
“Video communications established, bringing them up on our main screen Captain.”
The huge screen lit up and the sight that greeted them brought audible gasps from the crew.
“What the-“ began the Captain.
“Hello, Comrade,” came back the crisp, cultured English accent of the penguin commando on-screen. “Glad you opened hailing frequencies before you opened fire. Thought we were goners there, I did.
“Elder Grimm, Sergeant in His Majesty’s Right Royal Spiffing Commando service, requesting permission to come on board.”
Captain Stalin gestured to Communications Officer Stalin and she nodded back, punching some buttons and closing audio communications momentarily.
On cue, Political Officer Stalin approached and took his seat next to the Captain’s Command chair.
“On the one hand they are our allies,” Stalin hissed to the Captain. “But on the other hand, this is our most advanced technology. We cannot let its secrets fall into the hands of the English, or the Americans.”
Captain Stalin nodded thoughtfully, considering Political Officer Stalin’s words. Then he suddenly leapt up, drawing a pistol and firing four shots at almost point-blank range into the Political Officer.
There was a moment of shocked silence and then people were rushing forward, grabbing the deceased Political Officer and dragging his still-bleeding corpse away.
“He was a traitor to the revolution,” Stalin said to nobody in particular as he holstered his weapon, knowing that no one would question his actions anyway.
He wasn’t actually quite sure why he’d shot Political Officer Stalin, it had just seemed like a good idea at the time, and he was just sick to the stomach of looking at the Political Officer’s face. Those cold, dead eyes and that sneering smile. And that moustache! What a joke, who thought they could pull off “that” look these days.
Captain Stalin resumed his seat and indicated for the audio channel to be opened again.
“I can see you’ve, err, got your hands busy there,” came the crisp voice of Elder Grimm, having been able to see the events while not being able to hear them.
Captain Stalin dismissed this with a wave of one hand and a shake of the head. “We are prepared to receive you. Come aboard.”
As the screen went blank, the Captain rose and walked toward the door nearest him.
“Bring this Elder Grimm to my ready room,” he said as he walked out.

“What the-“ sputtered Nicholas as the screen went blank.
“I know,” Elder Grimm said. “It’s a big shock the first time, but it gets easier. For the strength of the Alliance, this news has been kept on a very need-to-know kind of basis.”
“They were all…”
“Yes, Nick. The Soviet Union is all clones.
“Every single Soviet is none other than Comrade Josef Stalin himself. Or herself, in some cases. They actually switched the chromosomes in some clones because Stalin thought a world without women wasn’t one worth living in.”
“Some of <i>those</i> were women?” Nicholas spluttered, then grabbed a paper bag and began to vomit noisily into it.
“Yes. Well, maybe. Damned if I know how to tell the difference. Every single one of them looks identical to me. Same height, same weight, same age, same eyes, nose, all the features identical and every damned one of them with that bloody moustache.
“I know it takes some getting used to, Nick, but I need you to focus. Bring us in under Mecha Stalin’s stomach. They will lock onto us with their tractor beams and bring us in.”
“But Elder, we have an appointment on the Moon!”
“I know, Slim George, but we might be able to turn this to our advantage. Minutes ago we were facing a brutal death in the vacuum of space at the guns of Mecha Stalin, now we’re looking at an uncomfortable meeting with our dear allies, the Soviets. I call that progress.”
“Well I can’t argue with that, Dude, but I got a bad feeling.”
“I do too, old friend, but if there’s one thing I know it’s that the Soviet has a deep abiding hatred for the Nazi. Theirs is a clash of ideologies, of fundamental beliefs about reality, and of centuries-old rivalries.
“On the one hand the Germans like beer and football, and on the other the Soviets like Vodka and chess. That sort of incompatibility leads to a lot of tension, I’m just glad that it hasn’t torn Europe entirely apart yet. ”
“What are you hoping for, Sir?”
“Well, Pita, I’m hoping that I can convince this Captain Stalin to give us a bit of a lift. Mecha Stalin could make it to the Moon in a fraction of the time, and with its firepower we wouldn’t be looking at a suicide mission anymore. On the other hand we wouldn’t exactly be going in quiet, as it were. But all in all, I think it’s worth a shot.”
The Panzer shook for a moment as the Soviet tractor beam took hold, and the entire tank vibrated softly as it was drawn into the hanger aboard Mecha Stalin.
“I can’t help but feel we should hide in the Falcon’s smuggling hold, then we find the Princess while you shut down the tractor beams.” Slim George said softly.
“Easy, George,” Elder Grimm growled, shooting a dark glance at his insubordinate subordinate. “Copyright infringement can be costly. You don’t mess with the Holy Trinity.”
“The original Trinity, or the new one?” Nicholas asked cheerily.
Elder Grimm said nothing for a long moment, forcing his fin not to reach for his weapon, telling himself that it was just a naïve mistake, the foolishness of youth. “Original, Nicholas. Original.” He hissed between clenched beak.
Nick caught a look Pita was giving him and groaned inwardly, realising his mistake. He busied himself staring intently at the controls and trying to avoid eye contact with either Elder Grimm or Slim George, both of whom glared at him. They were old enough to know the difference, and to never make such a mistake.
And they all knew that if they had been undercover behind Nazi lines and an SS Officer had asked that question, Nicholas’ foolish mistake could have cost them their lives. No Nazi would ever rate 1, 2 or 3 as better than New Hope, Empire or Jedi. It simply would not happen, because for all their evil Nazi-ness, they weren’t French!
When they heard a loud double-tap on the Panzer’s hull Elder Grimm popped the hatch and climbed out, closing it behind him. He pretended not to hear George and Pita start yelling at Nicholas. He needed to get away from his young friend, just for a little while.

The two Security Officer Stalin’s led him through Mecha Stalin’s interior to the Captain’s ready room. The Captain was seated at his desk with a half-empty bottle of vodka in front of him. Next to it sat a single unused glass, and as the Captain quaffed his drink he slammed his own glass down beside it and quickly filled both glasses.
Elder Grimm sat down opposite Stalin and took the offered drink, downing it in and slamming it upon the desk in one smooth move. The vodka burned in his throat but he didn’t show it, knowing that to Stalin this was as much a test as a friendly introduction. Without waiting he reached for the bottle and poured himself another, downing it as quickly as the first.
After a long moment of studying Elder Grimm, Stalin let out a deep laugh and clapped his hands together in delight, then quaffed his own drink and poured another.
“I like you, my English penguin friend.”

Before long Elder Grimm and Josef Stalin were mightily drunk, with two empty vodka bottles on the table between them and a third freshly opened.
At that moment there was a knock and before Stalin could respond another identical Stalin entered.
“Miss Stalin, I… Josefina, what is the meaning of this?” demanded Captain Stalin.
Elder Grimm stared at the newly-arrived Stalin. <i>Miss?</i> he thought, and tried to focus more but no matter how he tried it still looked like an exact duplicate of Josef Stalin.
“Captain, we just intercepted and decoded a Nazi message and, well, you have to see it.”
Stalin handed Stalin a piece of paper and departed. Stalin resumed his seat and stared at the paper in disbelief. After a few moments he looked up at Elder Grimm and said “you have heard of the Titanic, yes?”
“Of course, but… Wait!
“You mean the Nazis faked the Titanic sinking and converted it for space travel, equipped it with the finest in German weaponry and elite crew, and now they’re bearing down on us intent on our destruction?” Elder Grimm leapt up from his seat.
“Nyet, Comrade Grimm,” Stalin rasped gravely. “Not the Titanic.
“But the iceberg….”

TO BE CONTINUED!

[Jason B]

And my personal favourite, solely because this was the post that Living Waters repeatedly blocked. I took a day off anyway, my intention was always to simply miss a chunk of story and then refer to it in the story as I do. They stopped a couple of other comments first, and then this. The first ones they blocked did not contain profanity etc, just to be clear.
But this ended up taking 2 or 3 days to get posted, I can only assume it got through on that fourth attempt because a slight name change and/or someone else was doing the blog. The latter seems more rational, but the former would highlight gross stupidity imo so I prefer to think it more likely I don't claim this belief is supported by any evidence, I just like it more lol.

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“No, Elder. I am your Father. Search your feelings, you know it to be true.”
Elder Grimm took a deep breath and pondered Dr Mobius’ words. Then he calmly lifted his pistol and shot the Nazi Mad Scientist Super-villain in the face twice, and then proceeded to empty the remaining two rounds in his clip into the body as it lay on the floor.
“Sorry, old chap, but I seriously doubt that. I’m a penguin, and you’re a human being. That sort of disgusting idea belongs in a Rick Santorum speech. And I already established that one does not borrow from the saga, not in this story. Not on my watch.”
“Nicely said, Dude,” growled Slim George, letting the body of his thirty-second Nazi fall to the floor. He felt good, ripping the Nazi’s apart had been quite the workout.
“Pita, are you done?” Elder asked.
“Course is locked in, and in five minutes the engines will engage. It will take four hours of journey time but when it gets there, with the mass of this thing moving at that speed… It will obliterate the Nazi Moon-based baby-mashing factories. That will mean the Nazi’s will lose almost half of their fuel production, and it will take at least two years to recover.”
“Excellent work, Pita, and since I didn’t get the chance earlier I just want to thank you. Dr Mobius’ Zombie Ninjas were more than I was prepared for. If you hadn’t jumped in when you did…”
“Always a pleasure, Boss,” Pita said, laughing it off and giving Elder a quick kiss on the cheek before she set off at a run for the Panzer.
“Go, Slim George, I’ll be right behind you,” Elder ordered, then he took a moment to look around the Command deck of the Iceberg and he pulled his cigar from a pocket and lit it.
“Sorry, Mr Hitler,” he said aloud. “But today, the Titanic was avenged. Courtesy of His Majesty’s finest fighting penguins.”
He took a few puffs on the cigar and ashed it on Dr Mobius’ bloodied corpse. Then he slipped a fresh magazine into his pistol and slipped it back into his holster. He knelt down and began to check Dr Mobius’ body. In an inside coat pocket he found what he was looking for, and he slipped the sparkling key into a pocket and buttoned it. He glanced behind him to make sure his penguins hadn’t seen and, confirming he was alone, he pulled a wooden stake from inside his jacket and in one savage move he drove it through the Scientist’s heart.
“Not this time, Dr Mobius,” he whispered into the dead scientist’s ear. “Not this time. My penguins have seen a lot on this mission, but the truth that all scientists are actually Vampires is something they don’t need to know. Not yet.”
Elder Grimm rose and headed for the Panzer, as sirens began to blare and a recorded German voice was barking warnings over the speakers.
As he climbed into the tank he took one last look around him, there really was something quite beautiful about the constructions within the ice. Then he closed the hatch and strapped himself in.
“Get us out of here, Nick.”
“Aye, Sir. But, umm…”
“What is it, Nick?” Elder asked.
“Well, we were onboard Mecha Stalin, and you went to see Stalin… Then we’re here?”
“Don’t be silly, Nicholas. Yesterday’s post contained the story of the glorious battle, the bravery of so many Stalins. There were poignant moments where real raw emotions were felt and portrayed, there was angst, it was one of the most amazing pieces of creative writing ever to be written by any sentient being in the entire history, past present and future, of the entire Universe. People read it, Nicholas, and they wept.”
“Ummm, no. That never happened, Sir. There was no post yesterday.”
“Well, you remember it your way, Nicholas, the rest of us will remember it the way it was.”
And then they laughed, Elder, Pita and George, at the silliness of their companion. Of course there was a post, it was amazing. You all read it, and you loved it. You were moved, you wept, you reached new insight into what it means to be a human being and each one of you is now a better person for it. BE THANKFUL.
Yes, well, anyway… Umm, this is awkward now. It’s like one of moved in for a kiss, and the other recoiled. I’m going to just keep on going as if it never happened. But, umm, call me?
“Get us clear of this location, Nicholas. I don’t want to be here if any Nazis decide to check the area of the greatest Space Battle ever to occur between the Nazis and the Soviets. This will go down in history, that’s for sure. I mean, the bravery, and the other stuff, no one will ever, umm, forget it.”
“Riiiiiiiiiiiiight,” Nick replied sarcastically.
“We’re going to get a few hours of kip before the Iceberg hits. I want to see it happen, and more importantly we’ll need to be able to check and confirm we’ve succeeded. Until those factories are shut down, we’re still on mission.”
“And if, when, the job is done?”
“Then, Pita, we’re headed back to Mother England and some well-earned R&R. And if I don’t get the chance to say it later, my penguins, then let me say it now. It has been, as it always is, an honour to serve with you all.”
They all saluted each other, then each returned to their duties. Which, being in a Panzer tank hallway between the Earth and the Moon, meant doing pretty much naff all, until they all slept.

Far below them, under a bakery, a small boy named Jerry shivered in the darkness. Thankfully for him, the “nice old religious man” had been taken away before he could offer Jerry some candy and invite him to play “the special game” he played with all-too many of the local boys.
But the danger to Jerry now was far more pressing and urgent, and not localised merely to areas currently within his pants. The Nazis would kill him, and because of his age they could distil his innocence into fuel, and of course his bones would go to make the Nazi’s favourite soup, dead jew baby or youngling soup.
But Jerry had one advantage the Nazis had not considered, and could not be prepared for.
Jerry had magic, because Jerry was a wizard.

TO BE CONTINUED

[Weemaryanne]

Many LOLs and snorts were had in Weemaryannetown. Thanks, Jason.