But It's Not Halloween - Great Episode Challenge Bonus Round

[otherhawk.livejournal.com]

Joining THRUSH had been a good decision, Zark thought on reflection. It was good to be surrounded with like-minded people who saw the cowering masses were calling out for true leadership, to be ruled by the new aristocracy. Not to mention the funding for his research was very nice indeed.

For the moment it did mean he had to put up with the occasional interloper peering over his shoulder, or with periodic summons to explain his work or be given some new tasks to complete, but he could live with that for now at least. One day soon he would be in charge of THRUSH and all would leap to do his bidding. Finally, he was building his reputation among the hierarchy. How often now had he met some new THRUSH comrade-in-arms and heard the same refrain? “Oh, you're Zark...I've heard of you.” Already he was infamous.

It was a good thing to remind himself of as he was shown into Ritter's office and forced to wait like some common tradesman while the man who was, after all, little more than a glorified secretary, finished his reading.

“Ah,” he said at last. “Zark.”

“Count Zark,” he corrected stiffly.

“It's good to see you,” Ritter said distantly. “How are your bats? May I offer you a drink? Brandy?”

He made a noise of disgust. “I do not drink...brandy.”

Ritter sighed and pushed his horn-rimmed glasses further up his nose. “Of course you don't. Now, what progress have you made?”

Zark launched full throated into a passionate account of his work, the way he'd overcome the problems of redirecting his bats natural sonar, the issues he'd had with their hunting instincts, and, just as he was demonstrating their flight patterns, he flung his arms wide and somehow knocked over a vase that had been perched on a pedestal. “Ah, I am sorry,” he said. “Was it important?”

“Priceless,” Ritter said colourlessly.

“Ahaha, no matter,” he said. “Now, where was I?” He continued with his presentation, reeling off an endless litany of challenges and successes that would dazzle anyone, but that stuffed shirt of a man just sat there with the same vacant frown, occasionally glancing down at the file in front of him.

“Yes, thank you,” he said quickly when Zark paused to draw breath. “You know, I think I have a task that's perfectly suited for your talents. You're the only one who could pull this off.”

His heart swelled with pride. Finally! Recognition. “What diabolical endeavour must I, Count Zark, undertake?”

*

Three days later found him milling around a society party in some confusion. Apparently this gathering was host to all sorts of important dignitaries and, in order to show them they were safe nowhere, he was to stage a robbery. Ritter had explained that with his air of obvious aristocracy he was the obvious choice for this important operation. And that was true, but it certainly didn't explain why that old lady was staring at him anxiously.

He stared back.

“You know, it's not a halloween party,” she told him gently.

He frowned darkly. “I am aware. Ahaha. I am here for your money and your jewels. Give them to me or face the wrath of the children of the night.”

“Oh!” She clapped her hands together. “You must be the charity collector. For the new children's hospital, right? Cissy said one of you would be by.”

He tried to argue but she pulled out a purse and started fishing out bank notes and thrusting them towards him and he just automatically started to pile them into the bag he'd brought with him.

“And you can have my brooch too, that'll do for jewels, right? It's an ugly thing anyway.”

“Thank you,” he said confusedly.

“Now then....” She turned and with an astoundingly loud voice called “Everyone! The charity collector is over here. Please give him all your money or he will suck your blood.”

There was a ripple of laughter and he flushed furiously. But then the entire party was stampeding towards him with their wallets outstretched. Why not just take their money? Evidently they were so afraid of the mere presence of Count Zark that they found it easier to simply surrender.

After a few minutes he heard police sirens coming from the street below, Clearly it was time to make an exit, swiftly and with style....although he did wonder who had called the police? He had cut the phonelines before he ever approached the party.

Still, there was no time to wonder now. “Away! I go now, like mist into the night,” he announced loudly, and he jumped through the nearest window with a crash of glass and fell onto the fire escape. He quickly escaped up onto the roof and vanished into the darkness on the wings of his faithful black hang-glider.

*

Over breakfast the next morning he was gratified to see headlines regarding THRUSH's theft of a prototype thought-implanting device from a nearby university. Two successful operations in one night.! Ahaha, they were certainly going places. It seemed as though the police had been decoyed away from the university by a false report of a robbery. Such fools!

He was a little disappointed not to read of his own heist in the papers, but no matter. No doubt his name was being whispered in all the halls of power. THRUSH...UNCLE...soon all would know Count Zark!

Comments

[otherhawk.livejournal.com]

Thank you! Yeah, he is funny, but I have to admit I felt a bit sorry for him here.