Chapter XVII – Choking the Cherry
"Welcome to the great unidentified mountain," a very short generic looking dude said as Jack Wack drove the beat up Gremlin into town, "I’m sure you’ll have a blast here."
"Knowing this book I’m sure we’re due for a few," Jim agreed, "It’s cold in this damned Gremlin. Where is the hotel?"
"Down at the end of the road," Jack said, pointing, "Looks like a big ominous place."
"Of course it is," Jim agreed, "Why would it be anything but?"
"So this is the new direction we’re going," Jack sighed, "Do we know anything more than we did?"
"Sure," Jim nodded, "While we were being magically transported here while the author was busy berating himself at the end of the last chapter we learned a lot."
"Such as?" Jack wondered, not remembering anything, "I mean last I remember I was in France. Now we’re here. Where ever the hell we are, I don’t remember learning anything on the way."
"I just told Jim," the author told him, "Now shut up and let that idiot recap it so the readers will know it too. Jeeze. You’d think you’d never seen a lame cover up of a rapid location switch before."
"Fine, fine," Jack nodded, "So what did you learn, Jim?"
"Da Vinci’s Orgy was nothing but a ruse," Jim told him, "A red herring that simply allowed us to spoof the Da Vinci code a bit before we move on to the meat and potatoes of the story."
"What story?" Jack wondered, "I mean we still don’t have a plot."
"Shhh," Jim said, "Don’t call attention to that fact."
"Like we did with ‘I Would Do Anything for A Plot’?" Jack reminded him, "It’s quite obvious that this thing is a running sketch comedy."
"That’s beside the point," Jim continued, "Do you want to hear this or not?"
"Not really," Jack sighed, "But tell me anyway."
"Ok," Jim said, "The Da Vinci stuff was garbage, because they never had the Black Fossil at all. They used an old legend that had been brought back by Columbus era explorers, one that had never been substantiated. Thing is, the legend has persisted because of its significance to cultures in South America."
"Makes a little sense," Jack nodded, "Very little, but go ahead."
"So we need to head to South America," Jim said, "Our trip there starts here. There’s a number of legends pointing the last location of the Black Fossil to this area. I bet they’re all bull, but we need to at least try."
"It also gives us a good excuse to do a snow chase as well as a cozy hotel for the obligatory sex scene," Jack agreed, "Ok. That buys us a few words. It may not make much sense, but then the rest of this book doesn’t make any more sense."
"So you think we should go check in?" Jim asked him.
"I’ve heard worse ideas," Jack shrugged, "Most of them from you."
Jack drove the Gremlin through the idyllic South American resort town. Neither one of them knew if any resorts like this actually existed, but it made just enough sense for it to be there enough for Jack to park the dilapidated Gremlin outside. They grabbed the luggage that somehow had followed them all the way from France and made their way to the inside of the hotel.
"Let’s see if they actually like Americans here," Jim said, "I’m sick of getting my soufflé pissed on."
"I thought we left that joke in Paris?" Jack asked him, fighting off a groan, "Did you really have to resurrect it?"
"Sure," Jim nodded, "Anything for a cheap laugh."
Jack shook his head as they walked inside. The Hotel was actually really nice, though it was old and slightly on the creepy side. They wrote this off to a subconscious need to do a little spoofing of The Shining while they managed to skewer everything else they could remotely think of. It is all in the word counts, you know.
"Americanos?" the clerk said, "You must be the bozos we were wired about?"
"Bozos?" Jim said, "I don’t like the sound of that."
"I don’t know," Jack shrugged, "That sounds like just the thing Admiral Sackenbrenner would introduce us as. You know damn well he had to have wired the descriptions and the payment for the room."
"Admiral Sackenbrenner?" the clerk said, "Oh, I’m sorry. I have you mixed up with the other suite. You must be Jim Stalin and Jack Wack."
"That’s us," Jim said, "What other suite?"
"That would be Mr. Dirtpassion’s suite, sir," the clerk said, "He didn’t tip so well, so I don’t mind breaking the confidentiality despite the fact that I just met you."
"Tip him well, Jack," Jim told him, "Maybe he won’t tell Adam and Reizvolle we’re here."
"Confidentiality is my friend," the clerk assured them, "Just like Andrew Jackson and Benjamin Franklin."
Jack paid the clerk and took their keys. Jack may have been the gay Jewish black dude, but he was still the sidekick and he was supposed to do the mundane crap like pay the bills and the like. Jack accepted it, mainly because it meant that Jim was usually being shot at and not him.
They got to their rooms, a joint suite that was on the middle floor overlooking the pool. Jack did not like that fact because he knew that someone would be falling into the pool before this idiotic chapter ended. Jack was again hoping that it would be Jim and not him.
"So what do we do now?" Jack asked him, "Do we come up with a plan of action or do we do some of the obligatory scenes now?"
"I think we need to find more out about the enemy," Jim said, "And since you’re a gay Jewish black dude and I’m the tall hetero white guy I think that means I’m elected."
"What is your wife going to say about that?" Jack asked him, "At least I’m unattached."
"I don’t know what Claudia is going to say about it," Jim shrugged, "Not like I’ve seen her in years anyway."
"I thought her name was Caroline," Jack said.
"Whatever," Jim shrugged, "Besides, this is business. I’m going to try to find out why Reizvolle and Adam are trying to get this thing."
"What makes you think they know?" Jack wondered, "I mean they’re just as trapped by this idiotic story as we are. Perhaps more trapped, because the author isn’t talking to them."
"Because I’ll be there," Jim reminded his friend, "Maybe the author will think of something as he makes fun of the way us heroes get to do, or almost do, the bad women."
"I think he just wants an excuse to look at more porn," Jack said bitterly as he looked at the author’s second monitor.
"That’s research, thank you," the author said, "Now stay on task you two."
"See," Jim grinned, "Now I gotta go down and meet Reizvolle in the bar."
"What makes you think she’ll be there and alone?" Jack asked him, almost guessing the answer.
"Because I’m going down there and it will be awkward to work the scene if Adam is there," Jim reminded Jack, "If you have faith in anything else have faith in the fact that the author has no intention of making this any more difficult on himself than he absolutely has to."
"Good point," Jack nodded, "But where does that leave me?"
"In the character bag of holding," Jim said as he watched Jack disappear, "You’ll be back when you’re needed for more comic relief or to save me from Reizvolle or something stupid like that."
With that, Jim put the character bag of holding in his pocket, left the room and the author ended the chapter. As for the title of this chapter, it came because the author was listening to that song of the time. No cherries have been injured in the production of this novel, we assure you. Applications for cherry abuse, however, can be deposited at your local office of… Oh… Sorry hon, didn’t see you there. (psst… Those applications can be sent… Ack! I didn’t! No! Ok… I’ll move on to the next chapter… Jeeze…)