Cineverse - Bride Of The Slime Monster Part 3

As if in answer, Frankie started to sing: "Roger's trapped in his real boss car; Strapped like that, well, he won't get far!

It's time to call on Miss Dee Dee; She's a girl who can set him free."

"Hey!" the crowd shouted in unison.

Boom be boom be boom be boom boom boom, the drums replied.

"Nanny nanny-nanny, nanny-nanny hey!" Bix and the Belltones chorused.

This was it, then. Roger was trapped on the most dangerous of all movie worlds, the Musical. He remembered how skeptical he had been when Big Louie had first men- tioned the perils of a place like this. But then they had stopped on a movie world where large groups were singing about going to a state fair, and Roger had barely escaped a life judging strawberry jam contests. Then there had been the tropical island, and the song about the Volcano G.o.d, which had Roger dancing willingly toward his death!

And wasn't there some place with singing buccaneers? Didn't that have something to do with a man who puffed blue-smoke cigars? But Roger didn't have time to worry about things he couldn't truly remember.

He had witnessed the seductive power of Cineverse music first hand, music which could make you do anything! Music that, unless he fought it with every once of his being, would overtake him again!

Brian sang the second verse: "Come on, Dee Dee, now do your stuff.

Don't worry, Roger, she won't get rough!

She's the answer to all your plans; She's the girl with the magic hands."

"Hey!" the crowd shouted all over again.

Bif de boom de boom bif boom boom, the drums added.

"Nanny nanny-nanny, nanny-nanny hey!" everyone sang together.

Roger looked at Dee Dee. Whatever else the girl had, she sure knew how to dance.

She did the frug, the twist, the Watusi and the swim, with some bits of the Phillie and the mashed potato thrown in. Even the psychedelic paisleys on her bikini-which really wasn't very daring as swimsuits went, showing only an inch of tanned flesh between extensive pieces of fabric-even the paisleys seemed to jump about to the thundering surf beat.

And who wouldn't want to dance, with music like this? Tw.a.n.ging guitars, booming drums, and the rhythmic hand-clapping of the crowd made Roger want to move his feet.

"Ow!" he yelled. The seat-belt had dug into Roger's shoulder mid-frug, bringing him back to his senses. He realized that, despite his caution, he was once again falling victim to a musical world. He looked up and saw Dee Dee dancing closer. Brian and Frankie sang a duet: "So, Roger, now you've met Dee Dee; She's the girl who will set you free!

Here's a little something you won't mind much, 'Cause she's the girl with the magic touch."

"Hey!" everybody, including Roger, shouted.

Bif boom bang boom bang bif bang bif, the drums announced.

"Nanny nanny-nanny, nanny-nanny hey!" Roger led the chorus.With that, Dee Dee reached inside the car. Roger's surprise freed him from the music long enough to get a better look at this bikini-clad beauty. She might have been a little younger than the women Roger generally dated, but she did have incredible dimples.

If this had been another time and place, and Roger hadn't already met Delores, not to mention all the energy he had to put into saving the Cineverse- Guitars tw.a.n.ged.

Dee Dee reached for Roger's seat belt.

Drums boomed.

Dee Dee touched the locked metal clasp.

Hands clapped with an urgent rhythm.

The seat belt sprang open!

Dee Dee smiled as she frugged away from the car. Roger looked down in disbelief at the now-open belt. He was free.

Roger knew what that meant: Now he could dance!

Roger leapt from the car and started to s.h.i.+ng-a-ling. Dee Dee squealed with delight, and began to boogaloo back in his direction. Everybody sang the chorus to that surfing beat: "She's the girl with the magic hands, Nanny nanny-nanny, nanny-nanny hey!

She's the girl with the magic hands, Nanny nanny-nanny, nanny-"

The chorus was interrupted by the roar of half a dozen motorcycles.

"Oh, what a bring-down!" Brian exclaimed.

"It's the Mad Mumbler and his Motorcycle Mob!" Frankie agreed as he neatly introduced the newcomers.

But the scream of the engines had done more than end the song. They had also brought Roger back to his senses. He realized that Movie Magic had done it to him one more time.

The Cineverse was full of Movie Magic. And it was this very magic-which Big Louie had first explained to Roger when they had both been in the Wild-singing- West-this Movie Magk that could make an arrow fly right through the chain mail and into someone's heart in a Swashbuckler, or could let somebody shoot twelve rounds from a six-shooter in a Western, or could make you forget everything as long as you could dance to the surfing beat in a Beach Party film! Movie Magic was everywhere in the Cineverse, according to Big Louie, eternally helping the plot along!

The bikes roared forward, spewing great clouds of sand in their wake and snapping Roger from his reverie. Everybody around him stepped back to give the biking newcomers room, but Roger wasn't afraid. There was one advantage to being dropped on this world after all. Beach Party movies were always light comedies, with barely enough menace to move the plot along. These motorcycle guys would come up and mouth some ineffectual threats, but everybody knew that if any real problems developed, there would be only one way to resolve them: The surfing duel!

The six motorcycles rumbled to a halt directly in front of Roger. Two of the cyclists dismounted. Both wore studded motorcycle jackets and heavily patched jeans, but the similarity ended there. One of the gang was almost as big as Zabana, but kept his face hidden behind a large pair of mirrored sun gla.s.ses. The other one was a little shorter and so much skinnier that it would have taken three of him to equal the ma.s.s of his larger comrade. The smaller man also jerked about now and then for no apparent reason. He paused for a moment to examine the collected surfers, twitched once, then let his mouth split wide in a nasty grin.

"We hear you have a newcomer," he mentioned softly, "so we thought we'd come and introduce ourselves."

"Rssrjjit," the fellow behind him added.

The skinny fellow jerked his head halfway back, then calmly turned his smile to the surfers. "Yeah, right boss. Introduce ourselves. It's only polite. The fellow behind me is the boss. Maybe you've heard of him. They call him the Mad Mumbler."

He hesitated, as if expecting Roger to react in some way to the news of the Mumbler's presence. After a moment's silence, the large fellow mumbled: "Mzummenya."

"The Mumbler says he's pleased to meet ya," the skinny one translated. "My friends call me Sneer." He jerked violently in Roger's direction. "My enemies don't call me anything. At least not for long."

Roger, figuring that good manners couldn't hurt, said that he was pleased to meet both of them.

"Let's hope you stay that way," Sneer replied. "Seeing that you're a newcomer, there's certain things you gotta understand."

"Really?" Roger replied politely.

"Zrrzsm!" the Mumbler barked.

"Sarcasm!" Sneer translated with a spasm of rage. "The Mad Mumbler knows when he hears sarcasm! And Sneer knows what to do!" He whipped a switchblade from his back pocket.

Switchblade? Roger frowned. The ineffectual gang members in these movies never carried that kind of weapon. It would make them too threatening.

Sneer took a step toward Roger. "Now you listen to the rules. We own this beach.

Anybody on the beach does anything, they do it because we say so! Is that clear?"

"Uh," Roger replied, since an answer seemed to be expected here. "Yessir."

"Bskshss.h.!.+" the Mumbler screamed.

Sneer moved forward with amazing speed. "Yeah, boss. It sounded like back talk to me, too!"

Somehow, Sneer's left hand had grabbed Roger's jogging suit, and the knife was pressed against the tip of Roger's nose.

"The Motorcycle Mob runs everything around here!" Sneer shouted in Roger's face.

"And we will until somebody rides the Cowabunga-munga!"

Roger couldn't help himself. ''The Cowabunga-munga?''

"Trrmrssrssr," the mumbler rumbled.

"Yeah," Sneer agreed. "Once a troublemaker, always a troublemaker. Everybody knows the Cowabunga-munga-"

"Yeah!" all the surrounding surfers and beach bunnies interjected.

"-that sensation of the surf that makes a tidal wave look like a small potato. It's the monster mother of the sea, and it only comes to our beach once every seven years!"

He looked out at the ocean, twitching respectfully. "And the guy who rides it rules the beach!"

This was more like it, Roger thought. He had started to worry, with that knife in his nose, that maybe the Change had caused some alterations in this beach party planet, making it a lot more dangerous than those innocuous movies Roger remembered. But knife or no knife, what this guy was doing now was challenging him to a surfing duel.

So maybe things hadn't changed that much after all.

Roger knew what was expected of him. He asked: "The Cowabunga-munga? When's it going to come again?"

"As if you didn't know!" Sneer drove the hilt of his switchblade into Roger's stomach.

Roger staggered back into Dee Dee. That hurt! Things weren't supposed to hurt in Beach Party movies.

It had to be the Change-changing even a world as innocuous as this. Roger realized this place might really be dangerous. Maybe he'd have to use his ring sooner than he'd expected.

But, Roger further realized, if the Change was still doing this kind of damage, there might not be a single safe place in all of the Cine verse.

"Crssrrss," the Mumbler interjected.

"Yeah, boss," Sneer replied. "He is a pretty cool character. I wonder how cool he'd be if I cut his lady, instead!"

The knife hilt stroked Dee Dee's side.

"Tee hee nee," Dee Dee replied.

"Laugh at me!" Sneer shrieked. "She laughed at me!"

"It tickled!" Dee Dee protested.

"Trsrfmmbm!" the Mumbler stated.

Sneer's smile grew even more deformed. "Yeah, boss, they're both troublemakers!"

His knife followed the line of Roger's shoulder. "And you know what we do with troublemakers!"

Dee Dee shrieked and grabbed Roger from behind, binding his arms to his sides. She had a very powerful grip for a beach bunny. Roger couldn't free his hands to reach into his pocket to get the ring.

The Mad Mumbler laughed. Sneer giggled. The background motorcycle gang guffawed. The knife returned to Roger's nose.

Roger realized that he couldn't use the ring in any case; not if it meant leaving Dee Dee behind to face these thugs. That sort of thing would be against everything Captain Crusader had ever stood for. No matter what the Change had done to the Cineverse, Roger realized, it still wouldn't be the heroic thing to do.

The Mad Mumbler pointed a trembling finger at Roger. "Krrit!"

"Cut him?" Sneer laughed. "Yeah, boss. Where should I cut him?"

Cut? Were they serious? Roger decided he needed to rerevise his plans. Maybe he could use the ring and take Dee Dee with him. If he could only somehow free his arms!

"Hahrrr," the Mumbler insisted.

"There?" Sneer sneered. "That's a serious cut, boss. It just shows what can happen if you use sarcasm." He winked at Roger. "Say your prayers, ho-daddy!"

Sneer lunged forward, his knife aimed straight for Roger's chest!

^ ^ 4 ^ ^

"THE DOG MEANS DEATH!".

"Slime?" Big Louie replied.

"Slime!" the monstrous voice reiterated. "Slime is my life!"

Delores didn't like this.

"This wasn't my idea," Big Louie reminded her.

Maybe it was time to use the decoder ring. Wherever they ended up had to be better than this. But Delores knew they had to be cautious. What had Louie said; something about Russian roulette with a plastic ring? It would be easy to make a mistake in the total darkness, especially when facing something as potentially supernatural as whatever now breathed on them from out in the murk. What was it? What could it do?

She wanted to be very careful they didn't use the ring to go somewhere else, only to somehow bring the slime creature along.

"You," the voice commanded.