Brag
07-21-09, 07:44 PM
Lt. Fritz Gwitz writes:
Stomping elephants charging, 2000 Sepoys and 400 Ghurkas on one side and Lord Brooke’s cruiser blocking the escape route had Balz trapped in the Bay of Labuan. Balz built and launched his home-made torpedo and that is where we left our hero in the last episode of my suspensively gripping biography. I would have ended in a cliff hanging moment, but there are no cliffs to hang from on Labuan.
Here is another exciting, and as you will see, an earth-shaking chapter of Balz, a Heroic Hero’s Hero Among Heroes.
A squadron of Bengal Lancers joined the Sepoys and the Ghurkas
The earth shook as one hundred elephants led the charge of the British governor’s forces. Balz stopped watching the slow progress of his torpedo and in a heroic voice shouted, “Run for the ship!”
The pirates ran for the ship as fast as they could, yelling, “Aaarrrgghh.”
Balz also ran for the ship, but did not yell aarrgghh. The tremor of the earth increased as the elephants approached.
The siren of Brooke’s cruiser emitted a series of short blasts. Clouds of black smoke poured out of its chimney. The great paddle wheels rotated and churned water.
Balz’s torpedo slowly advanced toward its target. “Oh you hoochie-woochie,” Balz murmured through his clenched teeth and his face frozen in a heroic expression,” We need a big kaboom,”
Balz reached the dock. “Cut the docking lines,” he ordered and used his cutlass to chop the stern spring line and with another swift slice he cut the stern brow line.
The elephants were already piling up on the dock, while other elephants reached the edge of the beach and splashed into the water.
One elephant too many caused the dock to collapse.
The docked elephants sank into the bay leaving only the heads of the mahouds above the surface. The elephants raised their trunks above the water. This looked like a fleet of U-boats with their periscopes out.
The elephants that dove from the beach also raised their trunks and trumpeted.
The Sepoys reached the beach and formed the British infantry’s famous infantry square.
The former dock elephants hit the hull of the pirahu with their tusks, making a terrifying thunk, thunk noise.
“We’ve had the green banana,” the pirates wailed.
The beach elephants joined in the thunking of Balz’s ship. Our hero thought that truly, this time, Balz would be debalzified.
The Sepoys of the infantry square aimed their rifles at Balz.
The Ghurkas, too, aimed their rifles at Balz. Balz aimed his heroic gaze on the troops aiming their rifles at him.
With an evil grin, the officer commanding the infantry raised his sword. “Balz, surrender or we’ll deliver you to hell.”
“Do you deliver pizza, too?” Balz asked.
The thunking noise became louder and the ship shook from the crushing blows delivered below the waterline.
A column of water rose near the stern of Lord Brooke’s cruiser. Two seconds later, the noise blast of the explosion kaboomed across the bay.
Elephants trumpeted and jumped above the surface shaking their heads.
They all ran for the beach trampling over the infantry. The stampeding elephants also trampled the Ghurkas.
The Bengal Lancers turned their horses around and galloped away pursued by the elephants.
The earth shock as the elephants entered town and interrupted a tea party given by Lady Brooke in the magnificent governor’s palace. Typically, this palace was called Government House. Despite the elegant gathering, the elephants demolished the place without even nibbling on the cucumber sandwiches.
“Observe the destruction caused by my genius,” Balz shouted, looking heroic. “I will have Sandokan give me another medal, The Great Order of The Elephant First Class, with swords and diamonds.” He raised his arms ready to receive the praise and adulation from his crew, who had been trained to praise and adulate Balz.
“Viva Balz,” the pirates chorused and then twirled.
Balz looked back toward shore.
Sandokan stood on the field splattered with former Sepoys. He held his sword high while being photographed by three cameramen.
“Hey,” Balz yelled. “It is me who should be photographed, I am the hero.”
“Nyah, nyah, nyah,” Sandokan answered. “A pitchah, is worth a thousand elephants, I will be a famous pirate now.”
“Phooey,” Balz yelled, “You’ll never look as heroic as I.” He then addressed his crew. “Hoist the sails.”
Balz’s prahu gathered speed and headed for the harbor entrance, where Lord Brooke’s cruiser heeled heavily to port and flames roared from its interior.
Trumpeting announced that the elephants were on their way back for a victory lap. Like a appreciating hero, Balz applauded the elephants.
As his ship sank making glooging noises like a wounded turkey, Lord Brooke stood on a piece of wreckage waving an oar. He had lost his admiral’s uniform and wore long, white underwear. “You will pay for this,” he shouted at Balz.
“I will not buy anything from you. You run a rip off operation. Your elephants overcharge.”
“You miserable, cheap scoundrel,” Brooke stomped on his wreckage.
“May I ask you a question?” Balz asked.
“You dare ask questions?”
“Your answer will only be used for market research and your privacy respected. How did you find my kaboom: satisfying, annoying, startling?”
“The kaboom wasn’t nearly as annoying as you are.”
Balz cupped his hands to improve the reach of his meliferous voice. “Do you speak Japanese?”
“No!”
“What a pity, I wanted to say Sayonara in Japanese. Now, I will have to say it in German.”
“I don’t speak German either.”
“Do you understand sayonara in English? Then I will say sayonara in English while speaking German.”
That is how our hero, Johan Sebastian Balz said sayonara to Lord Brooke and became famous throughout the islands of the Sulu Sea, the Nicobar archipelago, the Yellow sea, the Gulf of Siam, the Moluccan Archipelago, Zamboanga, and Pinkelstein in Austria.
Meanwhile, in a small jail in Germany, a former politician studied the newspaper’s photograph of Sandokan The Tiger of Malasia. “This is what we need—Tigers!” he exclaimed, “tigers who will destroy the British oppressors. Reading this inspires me. I will write a book and call it Mein Kampf!”
Stomping elephants charging, 2000 Sepoys and 400 Ghurkas on one side and Lord Brooke’s cruiser blocking the escape route had Balz trapped in the Bay of Labuan. Balz built and launched his home-made torpedo and that is where we left our hero in the last episode of my suspensively gripping biography. I would have ended in a cliff hanging moment, but there are no cliffs to hang from on Labuan.
Here is another exciting, and as you will see, an earth-shaking chapter of Balz, a Heroic Hero’s Hero Among Heroes.
A squadron of Bengal Lancers joined the Sepoys and the Ghurkas
The earth shook as one hundred elephants led the charge of the British governor’s forces. Balz stopped watching the slow progress of his torpedo and in a heroic voice shouted, “Run for the ship!”
The pirates ran for the ship as fast as they could, yelling, “Aaarrrgghh.”
Balz also ran for the ship, but did not yell aarrgghh. The tremor of the earth increased as the elephants approached.
The siren of Brooke’s cruiser emitted a series of short blasts. Clouds of black smoke poured out of its chimney. The great paddle wheels rotated and churned water.
Balz’s torpedo slowly advanced toward its target. “Oh you hoochie-woochie,” Balz murmured through his clenched teeth and his face frozen in a heroic expression,” We need a big kaboom,”
Balz reached the dock. “Cut the docking lines,” he ordered and used his cutlass to chop the stern spring line and with another swift slice he cut the stern brow line.
The elephants were already piling up on the dock, while other elephants reached the edge of the beach and splashed into the water.
One elephant too many caused the dock to collapse.
The docked elephants sank into the bay leaving only the heads of the mahouds above the surface. The elephants raised their trunks above the water. This looked like a fleet of U-boats with their periscopes out.
The elephants that dove from the beach also raised their trunks and trumpeted.
The Sepoys reached the beach and formed the British infantry’s famous infantry square.
The former dock elephants hit the hull of the pirahu with their tusks, making a terrifying thunk, thunk noise.
“We’ve had the green banana,” the pirates wailed.
The beach elephants joined in the thunking of Balz’s ship. Our hero thought that truly, this time, Balz would be debalzified.
The Sepoys of the infantry square aimed their rifles at Balz.
The Ghurkas, too, aimed their rifles at Balz. Balz aimed his heroic gaze on the troops aiming their rifles at him.
With an evil grin, the officer commanding the infantry raised his sword. “Balz, surrender or we’ll deliver you to hell.”
“Do you deliver pizza, too?” Balz asked.
The thunking noise became louder and the ship shook from the crushing blows delivered below the waterline.
A column of water rose near the stern of Lord Brooke’s cruiser. Two seconds later, the noise blast of the explosion kaboomed across the bay.
Elephants trumpeted and jumped above the surface shaking their heads.
They all ran for the beach trampling over the infantry. The stampeding elephants also trampled the Ghurkas.
The Bengal Lancers turned their horses around and galloped away pursued by the elephants.
The earth shock as the elephants entered town and interrupted a tea party given by Lady Brooke in the magnificent governor’s palace. Typically, this palace was called Government House. Despite the elegant gathering, the elephants demolished the place without even nibbling on the cucumber sandwiches.
“Observe the destruction caused by my genius,” Balz shouted, looking heroic. “I will have Sandokan give me another medal, The Great Order of The Elephant First Class, with swords and diamonds.” He raised his arms ready to receive the praise and adulation from his crew, who had been trained to praise and adulate Balz.
“Viva Balz,” the pirates chorused and then twirled.
Balz looked back toward shore.
Sandokan stood on the field splattered with former Sepoys. He held his sword high while being photographed by three cameramen.
“Hey,” Balz yelled. “It is me who should be photographed, I am the hero.”
“Nyah, nyah, nyah,” Sandokan answered. “A pitchah, is worth a thousand elephants, I will be a famous pirate now.”
“Phooey,” Balz yelled, “You’ll never look as heroic as I.” He then addressed his crew. “Hoist the sails.”
Balz’s prahu gathered speed and headed for the harbor entrance, where Lord Brooke’s cruiser heeled heavily to port and flames roared from its interior.
Trumpeting announced that the elephants were on their way back for a victory lap. Like a appreciating hero, Balz applauded the elephants.
As his ship sank making glooging noises like a wounded turkey, Lord Brooke stood on a piece of wreckage waving an oar. He had lost his admiral’s uniform and wore long, white underwear. “You will pay for this,” he shouted at Balz.
“I will not buy anything from you. You run a rip off operation. Your elephants overcharge.”
“You miserable, cheap scoundrel,” Brooke stomped on his wreckage.
“May I ask you a question?” Balz asked.
“You dare ask questions?”
“Your answer will only be used for market research and your privacy respected. How did you find my kaboom: satisfying, annoying, startling?”
“The kaboom wasn’t nearly as annoying as you are.”
Balz cupped his hands to improve the reach of his meliferous voice. “Do you speak Japanese?”
“No!”
“What a pity, I wanted to say Sayonara in Japanese. Now, I will have to say it in German.”
“I don’t speak German either.”
“Do you understand sayonara in English? Then I will say sayonara in English while speaking German.”
That is how our hero, Johan Sebastian Balz said sayonara to Lord Brooke and became famous throughout the islands of the Sulu Sea, the Nicobar archipelago, the Yellow sea, the Gulf of Siam, the Moluccan Archipelago, Zamboanga, and Pinkelstein in Austria.
Meanwhile, in a small jail in Germany, a former politician studied the newspaper’s photograph of Sandokan The Tiger of Malasia. “This is what we need—Tigers!” he exclaimed, “tigers who will destroy the British oppressors. Reading this inspires me. I will write a book and call it Mein Kampf!”