Post by Ribs, Suthers' Pal on Dec 26, 2016 17:31:07 GMT
“Here we are on the Titanic,” explained Doctor Who. “I’ve never been here before.”
He stepped out of the sporty yellow roadster, parked on the vessel’s deck. Lu Ping stood by his side, armed with the ghost blaster they had acquired from Professor Terayama. The duo had arrived on the Titanic hot on the trail of Boss Hoi-shan, the spirit of the former Yakuza overlord.
Lu Ping readied the weapon. “Where is he, Doctor?” Doctor Who tutted, and gestured for her to put the gun down so as to not scare the guards.
An officer approached the pair, confused. “Did you just suddenly apparate in the sky in this flying car before landing on the deck?”
“No, my dear, you must be mistaken,” Lu Ping joshed, pointing at somebody down the deck. “He did it.”
“Ah, right-o.” He scurried away and arrested the poor old man as Doctor Who laughed heartily at his misfortune.
“Bwa-ha-ha!” The huge ghostly visage of Boss Hoi-shan appeared over the port side of the ship, speaking his native Cantonese. “You think you can stop me from completing the ninth Woo trial? I shall be reborn!”
“Of course!” Lu Ping remembered her studies in the dark arts. “The ancient Woo trials are a ten-step ritual to return the world’s dead to life as an army of skeleton men!”
Doctor Who was aghast. “How could we have been so foolish? We should have been able to put this together after he proudly boasted of completing each of the eight previous trials!”
“Foolish?” Lu Ping observed, in horror. “Or rather-”
“Naive, Ms. Primrose?” The duo’s arch-nemesis the Master emerged from the shadows, along with a squadron of Yakuza hitmen.
Doctor Who smiled, as if he had figured it all out. “Of course, I trust you’ve bought a controlling share of the world’s graveyards.” Seeing the Master’s smirk, he concluded that the villain planned to complete the Woo trials so as to claim the insurance money on the desecrated property once the skeleton army emerged from underneath. Some men, the Doctor thought, would see the world burn just to double their assets.
“And you bribed the Mayor! Of course!” Lu Ping had similarly extrapolated all of this information, and had already begun to process the legislative and bureaucratic implications of such a scheme.
The Master called out commands in Cantonese for his goons to detain the duo. They did not go quietly, briefly fending off their advances with their fighting prowess acquired in the plentiful dojos of the Hong Kong nightlife scene.
“Feed me, Master!” Boss Hoi-shan boomed.
“No! We agreed - they’re mine to do with as I please.” He ordered them brought below deck, and instead had one of his henchmen stay behind to complete the ritual.
Tied to a Pachinko machine in the Titanic’s parlor, Doctor Who and Lu Ping realized they were short on time. “We must think of some way to prevent the sacrifice!”
“Yes, Lu Ping. Let’s put our heads together and try to find our way back upstairs.” He reached into his pockets, producing a poncho and sombrero.
“Damn!” Lu Ping swore, lightly shocking her friend. “If only you had thought to bring the fake mustaches, we could have used our Mariachi disguises again.” She reached into her pockets, and produced a single piece of change.
“You’ve got it - if we hit jackpot on this machine, the binds will come undone!”
He carefully placed the coin inside, and pulled the lever. He hoped the several years experience he had playing Pachinko for hours each night since they first moved to Hong Kong would pay off.
Upstairs, the Master readied his goon to be lowered into the giant ghost’s mouth, tightening the knot around him.
“Alright, so you’ll just go down nice and slowly and let him just eat you right up, yes?”
The ship made a harsh turn starboard, and the Yakuza team all fell off the side of the ship as one in shock.
“What’s happening?”
Over the intercom, a familiar deep and booming voice taunted the Master.
“Sorry, pet!” teased Doctor Who. “Best of luck next time, but I’m commandeering this ship!”
Lu Ping, having snuck up on him, bashed the back of the ghost gun into the Master’s head, knocking it off and revealing wires and circuits underneath. “Curses!” She exclaimed, before turning her gun towards Boss Hoi-shan. She pulled the trigger, hoping to vaporize him to the realm from whence he came.
It didn’t work, Lu Ping being thrown backwards by the paranormal energy. She yelled at the Doctor - they need to use their backup plan.
In the ship’s bridge, Doctor Who noted an Iceberg in the horizon. “Of course - if I run the ship just the right way alongside it, the spirit will move on to haunt the landmass instead! Brilliant!”
He turned the Titanic towards the Iceberg, preparing to collide and set things right.
The next morning, Doctor Who and Lu Ping watched the wreckage from their car floating above.
“I don’t understand, Doctor. My great-uncle rode the Titanic. He settled in America, like everyone did. It didn’t sink.”
“Now it did.” Doctor Who sipped his cocoa. “We’ve changed history. One line of it, anyway. Besides, who wouldn’t sacrifice a few thousand lives to prevent an army of the undead?” He adjusted the flight controls, and set their destination to return to Lu Ping’s home the morning they left, eighty years later, deep in the territory of the vengeful Triad. He was looking forward to catching up with Mr. Ramset, the strange butler that came with the property she inherited from her distant cousin, as they strangely had quite a lot in common.
He stepped out of the sporty yellow roadster, parked on the vessel’s deck. Lu Ping stood by his side, armed with the ghost blaster they had acquired from Professor Terayama. The duo had arrived on the Titanic hot on the trail of Boss Hoi-shan, the spirit of the former Yakuza overlord.
Lu Ping readied the weapon. “Where is he, Doctor?” Doctor Who tutted, and gestured for her to put the gun down so as to not scare the guards.
An officer approached the pair, confused. “Did you just suddenly apparate in the sky in this flying car before landing on the deck?”
“No, my dear, you must be mistaken,” Lu Ping joshed, pointing at somebody down the deck. “He did it.”
“Ah, right-o.” He scurried away and arrested the poor old man as Doctor Who laughed heartily at his misfortune.
“Bwa-ha-ha!” The huge ghostly visage of Boss Hoi-shan appeared over the port side of the ship, speaking his native Cantonese. “You think you can stop me from completing the ninth Woo trial? I shall be reborn!”
“Of course!” Lu Ping remembered her studies in the dark arts. “The ancient Woo trials are a ten-step ritual to return the world’s dead to life as an army of skeleton men!”
Doctor Who was aghast. “How could we have been so foolish? We should have been able to put this together after he proudly boasted of completing each of the eight previous trials!”
“Foolish?” Lu Ping observed, in horror. “Or rather-”
“Naive, Ms. Primrose?” The duo’s arch-nemesis the Master emerged from the shadows, along with a squadron of Yakuza hitmen.
Doctor Who smiled, as if he had figured it all out. “Of course, I trust you’ve bought a controlling share of the world’s graveyards.” Seeing the Master’s smirk, he concluded that the villain planned to complete the Woo trials so as to claim the insurance money on the desecrated property once the skeleton army emerged from underneath. Some men, the Doctor thought, would see the world burn just to double their assets.
“And you bribed the Mayor! Of course!” Lu Ping had similarly extrapolated all of this information, and had already begun to process the legislative and bureaucratic implications of such a scheme.
The Master called out commands in Cantonese for his goons to detain the duo. They did not go quietly, briefly fending off their advances with their fighting prowess acquired in the plentiful dojos of the Hong Kong nightlife scene.
“Feed me, Master!” Boss Hoi-shan boomed.
“No! We agreed - they’re mine to do with as I please.” He ordered them brought below deck, and instead had one of his henchmen stay behind to complete the ritual.
Tied to a Pachinko machine in the Titanic’s parlor, Doctor Who and Lu Ping realized they were short on time. “We must think of some way to prevent the sacrifice!”
“Yes, Lu Ping. Let’s put our heads together and try to find our way back upstairs.” He reached into his pockets, producing a poncho and sombrero.
“Damn!” Lu Ping swore, lightly shocking her friend. “If only you had thought to bring the fake mustaches, we could have used our Mariachi disguises again.” She reached into her pockets, and produced a single piece of change.
“You’ve got it - if we hit jackpot on this machine, the binds will come undone!”
He carefully placed the coin inside, and pulled the lever. He hoped the several years experience he had playing Pachinko for hours each night since they first moved to Hong Kong would pay off.
Upstairs, the Master readied his goon to be lowered into the giant ghost’s mouth, tightening the knot around him.
“Alright, so you’ll just go down nice and slowly and let him just eat you right up, yes?”
The ship made a harsh turn starboard, and the Yakuza team all fell off the side of the ship as one in shock.
“What’s happening?”
Over the intercom, a familiar deep and booming voice taunted the Master.
“Sorry, pet!” teased Doctor Who. “Best of luck next time, but I’m commandeering this ship!”
Lu Ping, having snuck up on him, bashed the back of the ghost gun into the Master’s head, knocking it off and revealing wires and circuits underneath. “Curses!” She exclaimed, before turning her gun towards Boss Hoi-shan. She pulled the trigger, hoping to vaporize him to the realm from whence he came.
It didn’t work, Lu Ping being thrown backwards by the paranormal energy. She yelled at the Doctor - they need to use their backup plan.
In the ship’s bridge, Doctor Who noted an Iceberg in the horizon. “Of course - if I run the ship just the right way alongside it, the spirit will move on to haunt the landmass instead! Brilliant!”
He turned the Titanic towards the Iceberg, preparing to collide and set things right.
The next morning, Doctor Who and Lu Ping watched the wreckage from their car floating above.
“I don’t understand, Doctor. My great-uncle rode the Titanic. He settled in America, like everyone did. It didn’t sink.”
“Now it did.” Doctor Who sipped his cocoa. “We’ve changed history. One line of it, anyway. Besides, who wouldn’t sacrifice a few thousand lives to prevent an army of the undead?” He adjusted the flight controls, and set their destination to return to Lu Ping’s home the morning they left, eighty years later, deep in the territory of the vengeful Triad. He was looking forward to catching up with Mr. Ramset, the strange butler that came with the property she inherited from her distant cousin, as they strangely had quite a lot in common.