A dedication to Abel Rodriguez and Bureau
A voice whispering into my ear as a slow line of raindrops beat against my forehead...
The feel of duck tape being bound against my wrists...
The slow wafting of Mozart's Symphonies from an abandoned grammaphone...
The blindfold was whipped off, and the darkness which had engulfed me was banished. Someone was holding a torch directly in my line of vision so I couldn't recognise the speaker. Squinting slightly, I discerned that they were all wearing Jacobean Vendetta masks like in the bad movie.
Bad movies. A pattern emerges.
"Who the fuck are you?" I yell. Someone moves towards the grammaphone and turns it off. All I hear is those bloody gerbils on their wheel. But a million of them. All around me.
"You've been transported to the Matrix of the Spoof" a distorted voice echoed across the room. The person in front of me lowered the spotlight to reveal he too was wearing a Jacobean mask.
There were approximately seven people closest to me. Each armed with a Glock. All pointed at my forehead.
"You wrote that article Le Fete," the voice argued, as if reading my innermost thoughts. The door opened, and another three Jacobean stalkers entered the room. My sublime sense of hearing suggested the whir of an old Reliant Robin. Or maybe it was Skoob searching for his medication. "For that, we must kill you,"
I braced myself for the end, but the nearest figure took off his Jacobean mask and revealed his identity.
I had no idea who it was. A wise man complete with a monocle. He swung his Glock towards the Vendetta man stood beside me. For a second, the distortion died to reveal one word.
A haze of gunfire erupted around the room. Gerbils squealed in terror, and I was sure that somewhere a million Spoof articles were flooding onto Google. The man called Abel seemed to dodge the bullets, and broke the tape which bound my hands.
"Head outside Jean. Our renaissance team will take you somewhere safe. Ask for the Snippet Badge from any author you see. Don't trust anyone." Abel yelled as we ducked through the room. We passed a desk which must have belonged to Mark: it had a framed photograph of Simon Cockle on it.
I could barely see Skoob and a few others from the bar standing by the Reliant Robin. Breathing heavily, I nodded at Abel and ran to the car. Abel watched silently as I ran, before he turned back and ran into the Matrix of the Spoof.
Like a massive heap in Hole in the Wall, we all squashed into the Reliant Robin. Skoob took the wheel and nodded. Nobody spoke until I finally found my voice again.
"What the fuck is going on guys?"
"Mark's trying to find something dangerous. We gotta get there first".