Oct. 5th, 2016
Illya opened it up as he drove the U.N.C.L.E. Piranha car along a desolate stretch of Arizona highway.
It was a rare occasion that he was able to drive fast just for the sheer pleasure of it and he was going to take full advantage of the opportunity.
Kaboom!
The emergency parachute in the rear automatically deployed. Once the car came to a stop, Kuryakin pushed up the gullwing door and quickly exited.
The rear hatch was blown open, with thick black smoke billowing upwards. Seconds later the car was engulfed in flames, telling Illya it was time to move away, and quickly.
He paced round in a circle on the side of the road, running his fingers through his hair. He was dreading it, but a call to Waverly was necessitated.
His head would be on the chopping block for destroying the Piranha.
“Open Channel D- Kuryakin.”
“Are you all right Mr. Kuryakin?” Waverly asked.
“Yes, but how...?”
“R&D installed a new series of sensors in the Piranha and I was just notified of an engine malfunction.”
“That is a relief, sir.”
“Don’t count your chickens just yet, young man. You were speeding.”
Kuryakin cringed.
( Ooops )
This was the result of a drabble switch with Anamary Armygram.
Gardner, Lavinia Josephine
Barracks: F2
Year: Second
0600: Wake Up
0615-0700: Morning Drills
0700-0800: Breakfast
0800-1000: The Handling of Firearms 102 (R)
1000-1100: The Art of Disguise 102 (R)
1100-1200: Water for Non Swimmers (R)
1200-1300: Lunch
1300-1400: Kisses of Death: Resisting Napoleon Solo (E)
1415-1500: Afternoon Drills
1500-1700: Checkpoint C Sentry Duty
1700-1900: Dinner
1915-2000: Evening Drills
2300: Lights Out
"It was on one of the bodies. I knew it would delight your insatiable ego."
Napoleon scanned the leaf of THRUSH Survival School stationery (from the Women's Branch--THRUSH segregated the sexes during training in order to curtail romantic attachments), a pleased look spreading ear to ear.
A moment later, his face fell.
"Illya, look."
He handed the paper to his partner, who examined it and then proffered a thoroughly confused glance.
"What about it?"
He pointed. "Next to my name--that's an 'e'. Illya, I'm only an elective!"
Body - A Little Double Drabble Do Ya!
Oct. 5th, 2016 05:56 pmThis is the result of a drabble switch with colonial_teapot.
“May I borrow your comb? Mine is too wide-toothed.” Illya looked very serious.
“Sure,” said Napoleon, fishing for his own pocket comb. “But you've been fussing with your hair for the entire flight. It looks fine.”
“I need more body. And a more natural look. Ah, thank you,” he said as Napoleon handed him the comb. He parked it in his still-damp hair and removed from his pocket a little palm-sized container, which he used to dispense a dollop of what looked like shaving cream into his other palm.
“What's that?”
“It's called mousse. It's French. It'll be all the rage in fifteen years.”
Napoleon watched, bemused, as Illya's hair transfigured itself into a stiff bouffant.
They had succeeded in getting themselves captured, which was good. They'd also been stripped to their shorts, which struck Napoleon as less good. He paced through the cell for the dozenth time. “So what do we do now?”
“Well,” said Illya, “I've still got enough explosive to get us out of here and to destroy the prototype. Also a couple of smoke bombs, if we need them.”
“Where?!”
“Woven to my scalp. Just let me get the razor blade out of my false toenail…”
.
