The Black Fossil
Chapter X – The Interpretive Dance of the Black Fossil
"Why do I get the feeling that I’m not going to like this?" Jim Stalin asked, "I get bored just watching someone dance on television."
"Well," Jack Wack shrugged, "It could be worse, I mean you could be going to a Ralph Nader 2008 rally."
"I’m bored," Jim said, "Not lonely. Ok, since it appears that writing these gratuitous Nader jokes are not going to dissuade the author from doing this idiotic interpretive dance routine I guess we’d better watch what J. Simon Ferguson is going to do."
In less than the time it took to count the Ralph Nader votes, Ferguson managed to get out into the room wearing a very shiny outfit that looked like it was bought from Michael Jackson’s post-Neverland sale. He even looked a little like Jackson, except for the fact that he was taller, older, thinner and had a little less skin pigment than Jackson did.
"Is there at least beer with this?" Jim wondered, "Or something stronger?"
"Suck it up and bear it," Jack said, "You could be in Alexandra’s shoes."
"Alexandra is dead," Jim reminded him, "At least she doesn’t have to watch this."
"Do you want to learn about the Black Fossil or not?" Ferguson asked them, "Now shut up and watch the dancing…"
Jim and Jack shut up and sat down while they waited for the music to start. Lurch, knowing how annoying his boss was, mercifully brought out alcohol, which Jim started downing liberally. Jack just chuckled and watched his friend drink, grateful for the fact that he was driving.
A weird post-modern eurotrash type of music started playing and the lights dimmed. Jim drank some more as Ferguson danced out into the dance area and made several dozen moronic movements, complicated by the fact that he was old and very much out of shape.
"What the hell is this telling us about the Black Fossil?" Jim asked, "This is ridiculous."
Ferguson kept dancing and then went into a faux Rockette routine, where he danced and kicked and managed to kick Jim Stalin square in the balls. Jack, being a lot more sober than Jim, managed to shield himself from the blow and watch the rather interesting interpretive dance that seemed to have nothing to do with the plot.
This went on for a long time until Ferguson was satisfied that he’d wasted enough time and words and went on to try to explain what this fossil thing was. He had no idea, of course, as nobody has even thought of even trying to explain what it was to him. Jim yawned as he watched Ferguson try to come up with an explanation.
Ferguson danced over and turned on the lights a little. He then started to play charades in an attempt to explain just what this thing was. Jack noticed it first, but Jim soon caught on and realized that getting through this was probably going to be the only way he would be able to get out of that house and into something more interesting.
"Ok," Jim said, watching intently, "He’s trying to tell us something…"
Ferguson nodded and pointed at the artifact he was still carrying around. Neither Jim nor Jack wanted to know where he pulled it out from, since his suit had no pockets, but that was beside the point. Ferguson danced around and pointed at the runes.
"Ok," Jack said, letting his buddy style intelligence take over, "This is about the runes…"
Ferguson put his finger to his nose. He danced over and pointed to the jacket his butler was wearing, a dark black tuxedo jacket that contrasted nicely with his pale gray skin. Once he did that, he started making motions like a dinosaur. Jim saw right away what it was and blurted out the wrong thing…
"A roaring butler!" Jim exclaimed, "This is easy!"
Ferguson shook his head and frowned at Jim. He went over to the hero, smacked him upside the head, and pointed at the title that was sitting prominently in the header of the page. Jim grinned sheepishly and nodded.
"The Black Fossil," Jack said, frowning at his friend, "Right?"
Ferguson smiled and put his finger on his nose. He then pranced around the room a few times and started on his next charade. He started dancing around and trying to simulate a native dance. Neither Jim nor Jack got it, so he tried something else. He kept thinking and dancing and prancing until it got to the point that Jim was excessively annoyed at him.
Jim finally walked over, pulled a pistol out of a collector’s rack on the side of the room, and walked over to J. Simon Ferguson. He cocked the weapon, which because it fits the needs of this story is actually loaded and ready to go, and aimed it into J. Simon Ferguson’s nether regions.
"We’ve wasted over eight hundred words with this interpretive dance crap," Jim told him, "Now sit down and tell me just what the hell this Black Fossil is and do it before I lose my patience anymore."
"Bravo, Jim," Ferguson smiled, "I was getting a bit bored by this bit myself. Why don’t I sit down and try to explain this folly, eh?"
"Subtle, Jim," Jack said, shaking his head, "Very subtle."
"Subtlety is overrated," Jim said, "So what does this ridiculous thing tell us?"
"The artifact is from the Neolithic era," Ferguson said, "It is a rare find indeed, one of the few artifacts remaining from the moronican people of the unknown plain. Very little is known about them, except for a few legends that were passed on through folklore and a retelling found on a matchbook from Hoboken in 1923."
"Sounds good so far," Jim said, "I take it the Black Fossil is theirs as well?"
"Sort of," Ferguson agreed, "The runes on this are very old and something I learned to read in some god awful place that I was able to spend some time as a kid. It doesn’t mean a whole lot to the layman, but they are very descriptive in a way that would bore you for me to tell."
"Translation," Jack said, "You don’t know but you’re making it up as you go along to actually define this ridiculous black fossil thingy."
"Exactly," Ferguson said, "The Black Fossil is not just an object, but it is a sacred object to the descendants of the moronican people."
"Who is that?" Jim asked.
"I don’t rightly know," Ferguson admitted, "I think they died centuries ago. No matter. It is what the Black Fossil does that is more important than what it means to those people."
"I’m more concerned with what it is," Jim told them, "Can we start with that?"
"Well," Ferguson said, "It is a fossil that is black. I think it is the mummified remains of an unmentionable part of the first leader of the moronicans."
"Lovely," Jack said, "We can always use new sex toys at the office."
"Well," Ferguson said, "Funny that you mention that. The last known location of the Black Fossil was in Central Europe sometime. It was paraded through the town by a generically named man and his odd friend. The locals remembered it well, as that too became a story for the ages. It brought life to the greatest orgy of renaissance times."
"So where did this take place?" Jim asked him, "Since I guess this is going to be our next idiotic location."
"Well," Ferguson said, "The legends never really did say. Popular lore always put it in Italy, but that was never confirmed. Due to the Catholic Church’s disapproval of such things the holders of said Orgy scattered to the winds and only the legends of the Black Fossil last to this day."
"But that artifact…" Jim said, hoping to prod more information.
"The artifact gives the location of the orgy," Ferguson told them, "In terms that I can actually pinpoint. It is a 16th century representation of the original Neolithic runes. The only known source of these particular runes in the 16th century would have been in the noble houses in France."
"You gotta be kidding me!" Jack Wack exclaimed, "France? As in rude waiters, bad accents, can’t go to work because I’m surrendering in a war today France?"
"That would be the France in question, yes," Ferguson said, "This artifact is the last known invitation to that party, which was lost on a French transport ship to Louisiana in 1796."
"That explains how it showed up on that rotten little island I was on," Jim said, "It was somewhere in th
e tropics. That ship probably was grounded on the reefs of that island. They probably made the traps to protect it just because they were bored."
"Don’t forget the fact that it made the story interesting," Jack said, "What fun would it have been to have you find it on a beach easily?"
"Good point," Jim agreed, "So where in France are we looking for this?"
"I’d start at the Louvre," Ferguson said, "It will give you a chance to spoof the Da Vinci code."
"Sweet!" Jack said, "Da Vinci’s Orgy! I think we have a new direction to go!"
"Just so long as we don’t have to ride the same airplane," Jim sighed, "Ok. Let’s go to Paris."
"Find Jacques âne Abruti," Ferguson told them, "I have translated it from the runes to the 15th century language used. I don’t understand it either, but Abruti is the one man who can translate the rest of this to the point that it is usable."
"Here we go again," Jim said, "Stuck between an artifact and a hard on."