The Black Fossil

  Chapter XX – The Completely Unnecessary Snow Chase

  Jack started the snowmobile and it roared into life. Jim jumped on behind him, holding on for dear life as the machine started it’s insane roar to life. They went into the deeper snow behind the hotel as Adam Dirtpassion’s mooks came out running. Where Adam got thirty mooks in five minutes is a subject best left for academics and plot hole watchers.

  "Get them!" Adam yelled, "I want them dead!"

  "Why don’t you get realistic, Adam dear?" Reizvolle said, acting bored, "Why don’t you just order them off the side of the mountain in pairs of two."

  "Because that doesn’t eat enough words," Adam told her, "I know we won’t succeed, you know we won’t succeed. But can you kindly refrain from reminding the reader that we are becoming somewhat predictable, hmm? This story is tedious enough without that."

  "True," Reizvolle agreed, "Very well Adam, go on and get them. Their heads will make a good trophy on your mantle."

  "Nice talk from someone who just did one of them," Adam sighed, "Why do I want you so much again?"

  "Because I’m hot," Reizvolle grinned, "I talk with a really sexy accent and I’m the only living female in this book."

  "That would do it," Adam agreed, "Ok, I’m off to try to kill the hero."

  "Good luck," Reizvolle nodded, "You’ll need it."

  Adam hopped on to a specially made snowmobile that just amazingly appeared out of nowhere to be in the right place for a chase. It was remarkably bright for this time of day, though it would have to be for this type of chase to be as visually stunning as you would need it to be.

  Jim and Jack were zipping down the trails on their snowmobile until they realized that the mooks had lost them. Cursing a bit, Jack stopped the snowmobile and looked at the trail behind them. Jim looked at Jack as if he was crazy, despite the fact that this was a foregone conclusion for both of them.

  "Why are you stopping?" Jim asked him, "We got away!"

  "It was too easy," Jack said sourly, "This chapter ends too quickly and they’ll find something less entertaining to do with us if we don’t let them catch up. Personally, this is more enjoyable than waiting for you to spend three minutes with Reizvolle."

  "Three and a half minutes," Jim said indignantly, "The best three and a half minutes of her life."

  "Right," Jack said, shaking his head, "I think I’ll take a completely unnecessary chase over that."

  "I do have one question," Jim said, silently agreeing and waiting for the mooks, "Why are they chasing us all the time? Why aren’t we chasing them once in a while?"

  "Because we’re more interesting when we’re running," Jack told him, "Not to mention if we were chasing them it would mean they had something we wanted. Right now we’re the only ones with the clue where the Black Fossil is."

  "What clue?" Jim wondered, "Oh yeah, the clue that I got before we came here!"

  "The only clue you’ve had in your life," Jack reminded him, "Enough of this inane banter. Despite the fact that I’m wondering why a gay Jewish black dude would be hooking up with you, I hear the mooks coming. Adam probably isn’t far behind."

  "Let’s do some damage," Jim agreed, "You’re driving!"

  Jack started the motor just as a Mook hit a snow bank behind them and sent himself careening over their heads in an artistic, yet pointless, show of stunt work. Jim held on tightly as the snowmobile lurched forward with the speed of an underpowered engine and a gay Jewish black dude behind the wheel.

  The mooks followed them quickly, trying to catch up to the underpowered snowmobile that was flying faster than it had any right to in the snow. They realized that this needed to become a bit more varied, so the mooks started weaving around and making artistic manners.

  "This is nice," Jim yelled, "I think I know what we need to do to get rid of this first batch of mooks!"

  "What’s that?" Jack wondered, "I thought running meant we needed to keep ahead of them."

  "We do," Jim said, "But we need to do it in the most boring way possible. The duller this chase becomes the more stupid things they do. What do you want to bet that if we just crouch down and drive a mile the mooks will kill themselves by doing idiotic stunts instead of taking the opportunity to kill us."

  "Sounds like you’ve got an idea," Jack agreed, "It’s your back that is open to them, not mine. Let’s give it a shot."

  "I’m saving my bullets," Jim reminded him, "Just give it a try, shall we?"

  Jack thought about hitting Jim and kicking him off the speeding snowmobile, but being the hero as he was meant that Jim was likely to survive and something nasty would happen to Jack once Jim hit the ground. He stayed low on the snowmobile and started driving straight and slow.

  The tactic worked, however, because as the chase got more mind-numbingly dull the mooks started doing more and more idiotic stunts in an attempt to make the chase more interesting. Of course, these stunts got more and more dangerous until the mooks managed to collide into each other and set the cheap and unsafe snowmobiles into a really impressive looking explosion that killed four of them and left a wreck that two more hit and flew over a ledge that had not been there previously.

  "That had to leave a mark," Jim said, "See… It worked."

  "That’s nice for you," Jack said, "But we’ve still got a long ways to go. There are, at best estimates, some thirty mooks, along with Adam and the messed up woman you spent the worst three minutes of her life with."

  "It’s three and a half, I tell you!" Jim said indignantly, "But that’s not important. The important part is that we’re heading straight for that cliff."

  "What cliff?" Jack wondered and then let his eyes go wide as he looked in front of him, "Oh! That cliff!"

  Jack managed to pull the snowmobile to a stop a bare three inches from the edge of the cliff. They both got off the snowmobile and stood up. They patted each other’s backs, knocking the snow off of their clothing and revealing just how long they’d been traveling.

  "Do you have any idea where we are?" Jim asked him, "Or where the rest of the mooks are?"

  "No on both counts," Jack admitted, "Though I hear the mooks coming."

  "Then we’d better get this damned thing back from that ledge," Jim said, "Grab one end, I’ll get the other."

  "Uh," Jack said, looking at what Jim was doing, "That’s not good. Let’s pull from the other end…"

  Jim didn’t hear him in time and the slight pull dislodged enough snow to tip the precarious portion of snow over the edge. The snowmobile tumbled down the ledge falling down several hundred feet and crashing the rest of the way on the rocks, exploding in a way that would make the national transportation safety bureau cringe.

  "Great," Jack yelled, "What the hell did you do that for?"

  "I didn’t mean to!" Jim exclaimed, looking down over the ledge, "It did look cool though."

  The mooks were making tracks, looking for their missing friends and the heroes. All they had to do was follow the smell of burning snowmobiles to get to where they needed to be. Jim and Jack were still looking at the edge when they heard the snowmobiles approach.

  "So what do we do now?" Jack asked his friend, "Do we deal with it or do we continue to hope that we don’t get killed."

  "I say let’s watch the rest of that explosion," Jim said, "The author will figure out something to do if necessary. He may have something in mind that we haven’t thought of."

  "Not difficult in your case," Jack agreed, "What the hell?"

  "What?" Jim asked, "Man, look at the smoke coming from that ridiculous thing… Someone is gonna be annoyed we killed their snowmobile…"

  Jack watched as a lift came over the edge of the hill, empty in this case except for a young kid sitting on one side and watching the whole thing from his seat. Jim did not notice in time, so it came up behind his head and smacked him flat in the back and in the head. Jack got out of the way in time, but was losing his balance so he had to grab the rising lift to keep
from falling over the edge.

  Jim fell face first into the snow and quickly managed to get up. He saw Jack hanging on and realized the mooks were just behind them. He got a running start and did a nice impossible jump that took him out over the void and let him grab the railing right next to Jack Wack.

  "You are an idiot, you know that?" Jack asked him, "What if you had fallen?"

  "I’m the hero and the story isn’t over yet," Jim reminded him, "I had good odds."

  The mooks fired a few shots, but of course were unable to hit the men. They got on their snowmobiles and headed towards the station at the bottom so they could get back up to the top where Jim and Jack were heading. Adam followed along as well, angry that they had gotten away, even temporarily.

  "Get up that mountain!" Adam yelled, "I want those pains in the rear dead!"

  Jim and Jack managed to hold on for the whole ride up there. It was cold, their arms hurt, but they managed to make it to the top. The child kicking their fingers did not make it any easier either, but when they did fall they only fell about twenty feet into a bank of soft snow. Jack sat up and looked harshly at his longtime friend.

  "Why do I go on these trips with you?" Jack wondered aloud, "I swear, you get laid, I get the character bag of holding. We damn near get killed and then we move on to do it all over again. I don’t get it. Why don’t I go home?"

  "Because you have too much fun," Jim grinned, "Relax buddy, it’s an adventure. If you weren’t here with me getting shot at you would be sitting in an idiotic cubicle somewhere in that awful building. Either that or you would be getting drunk with Admiral Sackenbrenner in a futile attempt at getting yourself a promotion."

  "Why futile?" Jack asked, "I usually manage to get the job done."

  "You work for a non-descript government agency with no past, no present and no future," Jim reminded him, "You can’t go up because there’s nowhere to go. Once this book is over it won’t matter a whit."

  "You’re the most profound imbecile I’ve ever met you know that?" Jack said, "But you’ve got a point for the first time in this idiotic story. So what is next?"

  "We brush ourselves off," Jim grinned, "Then we go up and get ready for the next part of this idiotic chase."

  "Just so long as one of us has a plan," Jack agreed, "Let’s go do it."

  They made their way up the last bit of hill just as the last of the mooks got out of the elevator. One of the mooks shot a few worthless bullets at Jim Stalin, but they did little but hit a citizen on the slope, sending the body flying backwards tumbling down the mountain. This, in addition to being real artistic, also allowed the crowd to go into complete hysterics and add to the comical background of this section of the book

  "Very nice," Jim nodded, "Artistic and all."

  "Will you run before they shoot me, damn it?" Jack yelled, "Get moving, Jim!"

  They ran to the ski shop at the top of the mountain. Since everyone was trying to get away from the trigger happy mooks there was little competition to get into the small shack where the only skis on the mountain could be bought. Very useful for people who managed to break their skis on the way up the mountain.

  "Greetings," the clerk said, dodging a bullet cheerfully, "Welcome to the top of the mountain ski shop. It would be my pleasure to sell you a crackerjack set of skis today."

  "Ma’am," Jim said, "You are aware people are getting shot out there?"

  "Yes sir," the clerk nodded, keeping the smile on her face, "Awful for my business, so hopefully you’ll do me a favor and buy a good set today, huh?"

  "You are just as psychotic as Adam," Jack said, "Give me a set of your moderately priced skis."

  "But you really must look at the better skis," the clerk said, "I do have a commission to think of, you know. They are quite nice as well."

  "Lady," Jim said, "Those idiots shooting out there? They’re shooting at me, all right? They want to kill us. We intend to use these skis to get away from them. Now will you get off your admittedly cute little ass and get me a pair of skis."

  "But sir," the clerk said, still almost chirping, "If you’re going to be skiing away from people you must look at these top of the line skis!"

  "Very well," Jim said, "Let’s look at the ones near the door there."

  "Good choice, sir!" the clerk exclaimed, "Let me go and get them for you!"

  Jim and Jack watched as the young woman went over to the doorway to pull down the skis. She did it slowly and deliberately, letting Jim and Jack get a good view of her as well as the skis. Unfortunately, the mooks were still shooting and one of the shots managed to hit the clerk right in the back of her pretty little head."

  "What incredible irony," Jack said smoothly, "Now let’s get these skis and get out of here."

  "Nice to know that the mooks can hit something when you need them too," Jim agreed, "Let’s get the next piece of this damned chase over with. Then maybe we can have another song and dance number."

  "You actually like those?" Jack asked, strapping on his boots, "And I thought I was the gay man here."

  "The more time we sing," Jim reminded him as he stepped into the skis, "The less we actually have to pretend to have a plot."

  "Good point," Jack agreed, "But we still have to do the chase."

  "Let’s go," Jim said, "Much longer here and we’ll get shot."

  They left the store and headed out into the snow. Adam was now getting off the lift, having taken the time to get himself decked out in proper skiing attire before he even went up the mountain. It was a good thing, as the shop at the top of the mountain was temporarily closed to allow time for the idiot sales clerk to be replaced.

  "Get him!" Adam yelled, "Both of them!"

  "Which ones?" a mook yelled.

  Adam shot the mook and turned to another one. This mook was a smidgen smarter and did not replicate the mistake that got the previous mook dead. He turned around and looked at his boss and nodded.

  "The hero dolt and his gay jewish black dude friend," the mook said, "We’re on it."

  And so the chase started again. This time it was on skis and they headed down the wrong slope. Just to make it interesting Jim and Jack, who had not skied in many years, went down the expert slope. The fact that they had no clue what they were doing made no difference whatsoever. They kept going down the hill, looking back to see which of the mooks would crash first.

  "Get them!" Adam yelled, quickly becoming monotonous, "I their asses on a platter!"

  "Funny!" Jim yelled, "That’s what Reizvolle said to me last night!"

  "That’s just cold you know that?" Jack said as they skied, "You know that he doesn’t have a shot with a blonde that hot. It’s your job."

  "Just be glad they made you gay," Jim grinned, "Otherwise you’d be lusting after her too."

  "Right," Jack nodded, "And it’s just too cool having a gay Jewish black dude around."

  "Exactly," Jim nodded, "So keep your eyes ahead, you’re about to hit a tree."

  Jack missed the tree by mere inches, thereby avoiding becoming the next Sonny Bono. Adam himself started shooting a bit, hoping to derail them somehow or at least make them sloppy. This, however, stopped him from noticing the tree branch in front of him. It really did look like that hit was a bit painful, seeing as it knocked him over and probably broke a few ribs.

  "Are you all right sir?" one of the mooks asked his boss as he helped him up, "That looked like it hurt."

  "Fark off!" Adam yelled, shooting the mook, "Get moving! Chase them!"

  "He is getting rather monotonous with that," Jim said, "So are we. We need to do something interesting."

  "Ski backwards?" Jack asked him.

  "Been done," Jim said, "Many times."

  "How about we fly off a cliff and use a parachute," Jack suggested, "That could be cool."

  "James Bond did it," Jim reminded him, "Even had the parachute with the union jack on it."

  "That’s right," Jack said, skiing while crouching an
d thinking, "It’s all been done before, hasn’t it?"

  "Mostly," Jim agreed, "Between On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, The Spy Who Loved Me, For Your Eyes Only and A View To A Kill they pretty well covered every variation of everything you can do on skis."

  "But we’re a spoof," Jack said, "Surely we can mock them somehow?"

  "Heh," Jim said, "Like they didn’t mock themselves until they dumped Roger Moore."

  "Um, guys," the author told them, "While you’re doing a nice job at showing off a few of my views about how stupid some of the Bond movies got you’re not doing a very good job of finishing this idiotic chase."

  "Then make something interesting happen," Jack told him, "You’re the one writing this stupid thing."

  "There are three mooks left," the author said, "Have at them."

  The mooks came out of nowhere and started punching at Jim and Jack. Having a fight on skis moving down a mountain is a tenuous thing at best. Jack probably had the best move of them all, doing a back flip off a small, well-placed ramp and breaking the back of one of the mooks, along with one of his skis.

  Jim applauded the move as he ducked a mook’s punch. He then skied backwards, ducked down and punched the mook in the balls. The mook screamed, stood straight up and promptly skied into a branch that broke his neck. This did such a good job of stopping that mook and surprising the one behind him that the last mook skied right into the body, freaking him out and getting him out of the chase.

  "Rotten useless mooks!" Adam Dirtpassion yelled, "You’re a dead man now, Stalin!"

  "So you say," Jim yawned as they skied down the mountain, "Do something about it."

  "And quickly," Jack said, "I can’t ski for long on a single ski!"

  Adam Dirtpassion managed to gain a bit of speed as he tried to attack Jim Stalin. Of course, this scene had readily run its course so it made sense to the author to end it here by having the bad guy miss Jim completely and accidentally ski off the edge of the mountain. Of course there was no ledge there a minute ago, but this did not matter. It was convenient.

  "Oh dear," Jim Stalin said as he watched Adam Dirtpassion fall, "I dare say we’re going to need a new villain."

  "Nahh," Jack Wack said, also watching, "Look at that. Gravity is bending for him. He’ll be battered, bruised and more than a little pissed, but he should be able to show up to piss us off again."

  "So what now?" Jim wondered, "This chapter is pretty well done isn’t it?"

  "I guess we go back and try to find out more," Jack shrugged, "Unless you want to have a completely pointless musical number?"

  "I can live with that," Jim agreed, "Let’s have a completely pointless musical number.

  And so they went, skiing off into the sunset as the music slowly began for the completely unnecessary musical number. Hey, wait a minute, I haven’t finished this chapter yet! Do not start that music yet! Let me figure out what they are going to be singing first you bastards! Nooooooooo!