The Further Adventures of Nothing at All

[Allen Bramhall]

abject thunder mixed with cruel warnings spell Fu Manchu in green 
underpants. this is dismal, saith Fu Manchu. the green is less than 
green of eyes, or the speed with which lightning dots out eyes. green 
underpants for the sinister scowling pumping machine in evil's quest. 
yet minions abroad allow for no restitution or calm change. well this 
must be dealt with, said Fu Manchu implacably, dilating on the terms of 
expecting a world at his feet. what artist could he be in the end, 
trying to outlast green underpants? suddenly the door flies open. 
Nayland-Smith and Petrie, guns in one hand (for both of them) and 
electric torches in the other (likewise both). we have found you in your 
lair, said Nayland-Smith, with steelly grey eyes determined to see the 
thing thru. you see my green underpants! shrieked Fu Manchu, as would 
you. keep a bead on him, Petrie, said Nayland-Smith grandly. and so the 
thunder and lightning crackled and thumped in the newsy air. fraught 
moment lingered... lingered... lingered... (wait for it)... lingered... 
trial balloons associated with progress, Bill Gates (self-taught evil) 
gtalks to mountains, Nordic skies on a snowy lump of earth.... 
inexorable days pass, exorable ones pass, winter turns to spring, spring 
exacts blossoms, blossoms make apples... now wait a second, said Fu 
Manchu (the enchanter of evil), apples as green as underpants (it makes 
him think)... tempus fugit, all by itself... this is England and 
civilization to save, barked Nayland-Smith, “Mrs Brown you've got a 
lovely daughter”, hummed Petrie with skittish delight. tall like a piece 
of ice, the diabolical doctor shivers. his green underpants are a warren 
of self-doubt. can the world be, um, conquered? he wonders in his 
weakness. rains lasts until it stops. dank London implementation of 
climatic conditions clutter the spellbound. I still have a bead on him, 
sputters Petrie. Nayland-Smith fumbles for his pipe. there's dottle in 
the bowl, which he expertly removes. dottle, pah! says Nayland-Smith. Dr 
Fu Manchu considers the chemical possibilities of dottle mixed with 
alchemical wonders, with evil as an antidote to the current situation. 
dire wind sounds the same old day. and when the day is done, more news, 
more wet news...