The Black Fossil

  Chapter IX – Old Dude in a Creepy House

  Jack Wack pulled the dilapidated Gremlin to a stop in front of J. Simon Ferguson’s posh mansion. Ferguson was known as an expert on any subject that had to relate to six thousand year old dead people. Jim Stalin opened the door and looked a bit bemused as it fell off the shot up hinges and landed on the ground.

  "Beautiful," Jim said, "At least we’re in one piece."

  "Right," Jack agreed, "Too bad the car isn’t."

  They walked up the long, opulent walkway up to a house that would have been just as appropriate as a double for the Munsters than it was for the high class neighborhood where it was actually located. Jim and Jack looked at each other and realized that they had been told this was a dress party.

  "My clothes were destroyed in the car," Jack said, "I’m betting you forgot yours completely."

  "Yes," Jim agreed, "But that is to be expected during the obligatory car chase."

  "So what do we do?" Jack asked, "Pull tuxedos out of our ass?"

  "I was thinking out of the statue’s ass," Jim said, "Less likely to get us in trouble with the censors."

  Jim Stalin walked over and pulled two tuxedos out of the concrete nether regions of a large statue of Benny Hill that just happened to be standing next to the doorway. Seeing that this is a book and no one is able to see them they changed their clothes and made themselves look good. Jim actually managed to get his hair to stay in the right place before he went back up to the door.

  "Works for me," Jack said, admiring himself in the reflection of the water below a statue of Shemp Howard, "We’re a couple of fine looking mofos tonight, Stalin my man."

  "Watch it," Jim said, "You may be a gay Jewish black dude, but I need to stay overtly hetero if you want this to become a movie. Especially after all those idiotic amendments that passed in the last election."

  "I thought this was supposed to be funny," Jack said, "Why did you bring that up?"

  "Easy," Jim said, "All I have to do to make this funny again is remind you of the fact that you are a gay Jewish black dude who is stuck with a lucky hetero cracker. That should be funny enough to make up for it."

  "Not to mention this guy’s house," Jack said, "Statues of Benny Hill and Shemp Howard are pretty damn funny too."

  "I guess we should knock on the door," Jim suggested, "Seeing as we’ve been ready for a while now."

  "If we must," Jack agreed, "Feel free, hero man."

  Jim Stalin knocked on the door and waited for some sort of answer. He really was not expecting to get the answer that he actually got. Instead of someone actually walking to the door it creaked open all by itself, revealing a really creepy looking place inside. There was noise coming in, but it was far enough off that it was difficult to pinpoint.

  "Damn," Jack said, "This place is wack!"

  "Just like you," Jim said, looking inside, "I guess we’d best go inside."

  They walked into the doorway and looked around. Ferguson was definitely rich. His taste in expensive and gaudy Neolithic art proved that. Although among the pieces were seemingly incongruous pieces of memorabilia from 20th century comedians and bad television shows. The whole place was designed simply to exhibit all of this garbage that was brought in from all corners of the globe and Hollywood.

  "Welcome," a tall man wearing makeup to make him look like Lurch from the Addams family said, "I take it you are the men that Admiral Sackenbrenner informed us would be coming."

  "Are you J. Simon Ferguson?" Jim asked, looking around, "And what is up with this place?"

  "I am the butler," Lurch said, "My given name is Ezekiel but everyone calls me Lurch."

  "I wonder why, brother," Jack said, "So where is this Ferguson dude?"

  "He is in with the rest of the party," Lurch told them, "We have been expecting you. Walk this way."

  Lurch dragged himself into the room. Jim and Jack, being the smartasses they are, dragged themselves in aping the movements of the large butler. Lurch ignored them, as he knew how unintelligent they were. The guests of the party were spread around the room looking at the various pieces of Neolithic art and making way for Jim and Jack to go straight to the short old man who invariably had to be J. Simon Ferguson.

  "So you’re Sackenbrenner’s man," Ferguson said, "You are taking that hero role from the other prick then?"

  "Yeah," Jim said, referring to the previous hero whose name was not important to this book, "I’m the guy. Cool name, cool face, cool car and a gay Jewish black dude for a sidekick. What more could you ask for?"

  "A plot," J. Simon Ferguson said, "But since I don’t think I’m going to get my wish there I guess I’ll have to help you advance with what you do have for one."

  "Oh yes," Jack said, "Here’s the artifact. It is really, really old."

  "I see that," Ferguson agreed, "Neolithic in origin, probably supplied by Artifact Synthetic Services for this story. Maybe it was recycled from Indiana Jones too, but that’s beside the point."

  "Usually is," Jim agreed, "So what can you tell me about it?"

  "Not a hell of a lot," Ferguson said, "The author still hasn’t bothered to determine just what the hell the Black Fossil is."

  "Well this artifact kinda has to tell us something about it," Jack said, coming to Jim’s aid, "They killed a pretty blonde chick to get it. Managed to actually piss Jim off a bit. That takes some doing, don’t you know?"

  "I’m sure," Ferguson said coolly, "Now why do you think this about this innocuous little object?"

  "Because they killed Alex and tried to kill me," Jim repeated, "There’s another reason?"

  "Philistines," Ferguson said derisively, "Very well. Since you aren’t going to leave until I examine it and tell you something about it you might as well come on up to my office. I must consult a good book for that."

  "Don’t tell me this is going biblical," Jack moaned, "I had enough of that at the polls last week…"

  "Not that good book you idiot," Ferguson said, "Come on upstairs and I will show you."

  The three of them left the party full of people who did not matter to this book and went into the crowded office that belonged to the research team that J. Simon Ferguson funded to keep him with new objects of Neolithic and comedic art. Ferguson went over to the one bookshelf that he knew would have the volume he needed to end this plot advancement section.

  "Where’s the book?" Jim asked, "On the shelf?"

  "Right here," Ferguson said, showing it to them, "Take a good look, you may need to find your own copy at some point…"

  Ferguson held up a copy of the book "Beginner Plot Advancement for Dummies" that came out sometime between the Neolithic period and last week. Both Jim and Jack were amazed that this plot had degenerated to the point where such a book was needed, but here we are. Ferguson spent a few agonizing minutes searching through the book for some actual material to use.

  "Very well," Jim said, "That’s enough lollygagging. Where are we going next?"

  "I guess we need to actually define the Black Fossil," Ferguson said, "Much as I’d hoped I’d be able to shuck this off onto someone else, I guess it would be a waste to send you on your way now."

  "We could do a spooky story time?" Jim suggested, "That way you get almost as much entertainment out of the story as everyone else."

  "Or you can do it in song," Jack suggested, "You look like a song and dance man."

  "Or in rhyme?" Jim suggest.

  "Enough!" Ferguson yelled, "I think we will do it in interpretive dance! Lurch, bring my cane and a twister mat!"