Therapuetic Skin Jobs #6

 

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These were some things I liked, in that slice of space/time that is always 1998. It's also when I realised the best thing about fan fiction is that you could have anybody show up.....

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    “This is the end,” sighs Dr. Oonagh, shuffling down the corridor towards the meeting hall. “I’m telling you. This is the end of Ape society as we know it.”

    “Really, Oonagh,” grunts General Mutag, striding forward with great vigor and purpose. “Are all orangutans so melodramatic, or just you?”

    “This is the third one in a month! How long can this go on?”

    “They’re just humans. We’ll find out what they know and exterminate them like the vermin they are.”

    “I hope it proves to be that easy,” mumbles Oonagh sadly. “I feel most strongly that these three are hiding many secrets.”

    "And we will uncover them all before we put the beasts out of their misery.”

    “I wish I shared your confidence," replies Oonagh, pulling the main door open and walking into the hall, head held high. “I really do.”

    The human in the corner is still garbed in his offensively garish clothing, but appears calm. The gag in his mouth doesn’t seem to be troubling him at all, to Mutag’s obvious disappointment.

    “Doctor Oonagh!” barks the Lawgiver, sitting high on his pedestal in the center of the hall. He is the oldest Ape alive, and has ruled this area since the Taylor Cataclysm. “Can you provide an explanation for these recent appearances?”

    “I cannot,” concedes Oonagh, “but I believe it is part of a wider conspiracy, designed to subvert our great civilization.”

    “Do you agree, general?” asks the Lawgiver, turning to Mutag. The terrifyingly large gorilla clears his throat before speaking.

    “I do not. I believe these animals are an isolated case, and that we should dispose of them before they prove troublesome.”

    Slad, the Lawgiver’s young aide nervously steps forward. “But they’re only men. How much trouble can they cause?”

    The Lawgiver sighs in exasperation before turning his feared gaze upon Slad. “You forget our past, Slad. Men have been our natural enemy for eternity. You must remember that one man can destroy everything we’ve built. Or do I need to remind you of Taylor?”

    At the mention of the Great Destroyer’s name, Slad noticeably jumps, but carries on. “But we could learn from these humans if we keep them alive. They could teach us.”

    "It is already far too late for that,” says Oonagh. “Between the three of them they have caused considerable distress.”

    “Yes,” snarls the lawgiver. "They should be questioned and destroyed immediately.”

    “Excuse me,” says a voice from the corner. The apes turn to see the human standing, his restraints lying on the ground beside him, the gag nowhere to be seen. “I was just wondering if I could contribute to this conversation. You are discussing my fate, after all.”

    “Impossible!” bellows Mutag. “I bound him myself!”

    "Restrain that man!” screeches the Lawgiver and a dozen gorillas appear from behind his pedestal, rapidly beating the human to the ground.

    “This is intolerable!” says the Lawgiver, once order has been restored. "Take this human below with the others. I give you one day to find out what you can, General Mutag. Then we will dispose of these creatures once and for all.”

    “Your word is law,” intones Mutag, bowing.

    “Your word is law,” repeats Oonagh, following the General out of the hallway.

    In the corner of the room, the human carefully and quietly reaches into his pocket, only to find his precious cigarettes crushed and battered.

    “Bugger,” he curses softly as the gorillas grab him by his ankles and drag him away.

    Dr. Skin is not having a good day, but things can only get better.

Therapeutic Skin Jobs #6

Dr. Skin on the Planet of the Apes!

A Fan Fiction Fable

    The straw on the floor of the cell inflames his sinuses and Dr. Skin wrinkles his nose in disgust as he is thrown to the ground, the gorillas marching away, laughing at his fate.

    Getting to his feet, Skin surveys his surroundings. His cell is small, with two others on either side. The men in each cell look at him with undisguised interest.

    "Welcome, stranger,” says the man on Skin’s left. He is dressed sparsely, a loincloth the only protection against the elements. His body is sharp, strong and solid and he is a man who has obviously had an adventure or two.

    "How’re you doing?” responds Skin, moving over and leaning on the bars between the cells. "How long have you been here?”

    “A short time. With luck I shall soon be away.”

    “You’d better hurry. We’re all due for the dirt nap tomorrow.”

    “I’m not worried. I’ve been in far worse situations.”

    He sticks his large hand through the bars towards Skin. “My name is John Clayton, Viscount of Greystoke.”

    “I’ve heard of you,” says Skin, taking Clayton’s hand and shaking firmly. “I always thought you were a myth. My name’s Dr. Jakob Skin. I’m very pleased to meet you.”

    “The honor is mine,” nods Clayton. “But I’m not familiar with your name. You are obviously not a member of the village.”

    “Village?”

    “The last human city. I founded it the last time I lived through this age. We remain unknown to the Apes, and keep to ourselves. Unfortunately, they captured me while I was hunting, but it was a mistake they will regret.”

    “I think they have already,” laughs Skin. “Who’s our other cellmate?”

    “Do not trust him,” whispers Clayton carefully. “I have run into him time after time, and he has proven to be entirely amoral and incurably evil. His name is Savage.”

    “Vandal Savage?”

    “Yes.”

    “He’s just the man I’m looking for,” says Skin, bowing slightly to Clayton before moving over to the other side of the cell and whispering to the figure crouching quietly in the corner. "Savage? I’ve come a long way to look for you.”

    “You are Skin?” snarls Savage, his face cloaked in darkness. “You’ve finally come for your object?”

    “I have.”

    “Then take the damned thing,” sneers Savage, tossing a small cube covered in strange patterns towards Skin, who catches it easily. "I’ve been hiding that for longer than I care to remember. I’m glad to be rid of it.”

    “Thank you, Vandal.”

    Savage doesn’t reply, withdrawing further into the meager shadows within his cell.

    “What do you intend to do with that?” asks Clayton as Skin sits cross-legged in the center of his cell, subtly pushing on the ornate cube.

    “Open it,” whispers Skin, concentrating fiercely as his fingers slide over the surface of the box.

    “Be careful,” warns Clayton. “I’ve seen an object like that before. It can lead you on a path of unfortunate consequences.”

    “Don’t worry,” smiles Skin, as a section of the box slides away under his touch.

    Clayton tenses slightly as the sound of rattling chains fill the air.

   Skin is about to open the final seal, when he suddenly flips the box over and opens a previously unseen compartment. A small piece of paper falls out.

    “Here we go!” hollers Skin with a grin, snatching up the paper and cramming it into the pocket of his dinner jacket. “I’ve got what I wanted.”

    Skin reaches into another pocket, pulling out a dog whistle, which he blows excitedly into.

    “Odd,” says Clayton, watching these new developments with mild interest. “I can usually hear those things, but I couldn’t hear that one.”

    “It’s special,” winks Skin and he is proven right when there is a strange groaning noise and a large blue box appears in the corner of his cell. A door opens in its side, beckoning Skin in.

    “Need a lift?” Skin asks Clayton.

    “No,” answers Clayton, sitting on the floor of his cell. “I’ll break out later on tonight. No rush. But please give the Doctor my regards.”

    “Will do. How about you, Savage?”

    “Go to hell,” comes the answer.

    “Not today,” smiles Skin, tossing the now useless cube back into Savage’s cell. "Maybe later.”

    Skin walks inside his transport. The door closes, and the box vanishes, leaving two of the last humans alive to their thoughts.

    Inside, Skin feels the dizziness he usually feels when crossing dimensions. He screws his eyes shut for a moment before opening them and walking over to the long haired man fiddling with a control panel in the middle of an unfeasibly large room.

    “Well?” asks the man, not looking up from his instruments. “Did you get what you were after?”

    “I did. Thank you for the help, Doctor.”

    The Doctor turns and scrutinizes Skin with his piercing gaze. “I do not approve of your actions, Skin. I consider you an extremely dangerous man. I trust this little errand fulfills my end of the bargain?”

    “It does. Just drop me off and you’ll never see me again.”

    “One can only hope,” mutters the Doctor under his breath. “Very well. Where would you like to go?”

    Skin fishes in his pocket for the piece of paper and reads the address on it. “Looks like I need a lift back to J Street.”

    “That should not be a problem,” answers the Doctor, flicking switches and pushing buttons. The room groans slightly as the time machine moves through the vortex. “After all, I’ve been there before.”

    “So what have you been up to, Doc?” asks Skin, sitting down in a preposterously antique chair. 

    “Saving the universe and stuff?” “Something like that,” answers the Doctor distractedly. “I just helped James Kirk save the life of an infant Jesus Christ.”

    “Jesus.”

    “Yes. Exactly.”

    There is an inaudible shudder and the Doctor turns to Skin. “We’ve arrived.” He flips a switch and the doors open into the outside world. “Try and stay out of trouble this time, Skin. I’d hate to have to confront you again.”

    “Don’t worry about it, Doctor,” smiles Skin, slipping on a pair of sunglasses and walking towards the door. “Oh, and Tarzan says ‘Hi’.”

    The Doctor watches in silence as Skin leaves his machine, closing the door as soon as he’s left.

    Skin steps onto the brightly-lit J Street, and tries to remember where he parked his car. He has a mission to accomplish.

    Realizing he left his car double-parked outside Grendel’s bar, Skin walks off down the street, whistling a happy tune. His mission remains a mystery for the time being, only to be revealed in an unlikely place. Watch the skies.

    His story hasn’t finished, but this one has, because this is the end.

This Has Been A Bunch Of Mod Temporal Hijinks. Thank you for your participation...