Skutterfied

Who: Shakespeare, Keto, Skutters
Where: Corridor Unknown
When: After dropping down from the ducts
----------------------------------------
<snip>
There was a pause as the two medical officers stared at the group of
armed skutters, who stared right back. Then Keto raised one hand and
pointed at Shakespeare.
"Hi," he said brightly, "THIS guy thinks your brains are the size of
damaged eggs!"
And then he turned and ran.
<end snip>
Shakespeare did a double take at the now empty spot previously
occupied by Doctor Charles Keto.
"Charles?" he said timidly, looking behind him at the shrinking form
of Keto. The Skutters began to stretch to their full height and aim
the weapons solely on Shakespeare. He looked back at them and grinned
sheepishly.
"Thou art appeareth shiny," he said, thinking hurriedly of a way to
distract them. "Dost thou useth polish?"
Two of the skutters looked at each other and began a high pitched
whirring. It almost sounded like laughter. They turned back to
Shakespeare and through some fancy movement of their rather useless
mouths managed to set the weapons to 'Fatality'.
"By Jove! Doth myne eyes lie? Iseth thy image of nay monetary
needeth WD40?!" He pointed behind the skutters in shock. At once all
trained weapons turned around as their attention was diverted.
Sensing his opportunity, Shakespeare emulated his friend and ran like
a coward.
Shakespeare sped down the corridor, his speed helped along by weapon
charges randomly going off by his sides. He was thanking his lucky
stars that the skutters were such poor shots. Given the way they held
the guns in their mouths, he wouldn't have been surprised if they
could even miss at point blank range.
He saw another large burn appear just to his front and took a moment
to dive into a nearby empty looking room. Shakespeare slammed the
door shut and winced.
"This be thy craziest assignment myne life hath experienced. I've nay
been aboard thy metallic beast for hours three and already I hath been
attempted death. Do I dreamst?" he wondered aloud. "What wath
Charles saying? Six years? Six whole years? This be thy work of
demons. Thy mind ist clouded and I hath to find thy cure!"
The door banged loudly as the small skutter army hit into it.
"But first I hath to find thy escape route! And then Charles."
Shakespeare looked around the barren room and noticed an opening back
up into the ductways where they'd just dropped down.
"Bettereth lost up yonder than a pile of ashes downs't here," he
mused, levering himself back up into the air system. He crawled along
a small distance and peeked back down through the vents into the room
he'd just left. The skutter army had managed to force the door open,
but now looked bemused and confused as to where their prey had been.
After a few minutes of aimless whirring they gave up and went back out
into the corridor.
Shakespeare breathed a sigh of relief and began his cramped shuffling,
this time solo.
=====
<tag: Keto you bloody yellow belly, I'm coming to find you.>

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