There is a light knock followed by a stained napkin being slid through the side of the door. Written in faint sharpie is a message.
"Flush this down the toilet immediately upon reading. You need to escape."
Whispers from outside are heard for a moment, then the shuffling of feet. All is quiet.
*Flame resists the urge to scream something about his need to escape being obvious, instead following the instructions*
*He tries to plan an escape, but nothing comes to mind besides what he's already tried. If they would just let him out of this cell...*
*in frustration, he screams:* "YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS, VIOLET!!"
The toilet becomes backed up, and water starts fizzling from the bottom as the bowl floods. Spilling over, it leaks through the crack underneath the door...
*Flame resists the urge to scream something about his need to escape being obvious, instead following the instructions*
*He tries to plan an escape, but nothing comes to mind besides what he's already tried. If they would just let him out of this cell...*
*in frustration, he screams:* "YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS, VIOLET!!"
The toilet becomes backed up, and water starts fizzling from the bottom as the bowl floods. Spilling over, it leaks through the crack underneath the door...
*Flame realizes that this might give the others a reason to open the door...*
*he calls their attention to what just happened* "YOUR PLUMBING DOESN'T EVEN WORK!!"
The Pilot just stares around, barely aware that he has left the ground. He examines the corridor with interest, nodding along to the guards' converation before bursting out in song, "Are you going to Scarborough Fair? Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme..."
The Cook passes by carrying a large pot of chili. He overhears The Pilot's song and sets the pot down in front of him. "You like herbs, eh?" He pulls out a few herbs from his front pocket and throws it at him. "There ya go. Maybe you can work in the kitchens next, ha haw ha!" He picks up his pot and continues to laugh, but the Guards only yell at him.
"Don't encourge the fool!"
"We don't know what he's capable of!"
Catching scent of the chili, one of the Guards inches forward, still tugging onto the Pilot's left arm. "Let me try that!" Dipping his finger in the chili, he spits it out and pulls a wry face. "What-what do you even call that? You planning to send everyone here to the emergency room?!"
The Cook pulls the chili closer to him. "Maybe if your 'guests' would stop their yapping, I'd be able to focus more often!"
Angered by his words, the Guard moves closer and grunts. "You going to speak to me like that cook?" He lets go of his hold on the Pilot and points an accusing finger at him. "If you don't know how to cook in a place like this, then you don't know how to cook anywhere!"
The Cook stomps his foot and drops the chili pot. Crossing his arms, he tilts his chin upward. "Then why don't you call one of them fancy chefs from those cooking shows you always like to watch to come 'ere and feed ya!"
The chili pot leans to one end before balancing upright. The other Guard, still keeping a firm hold of the Pilot, breathes a sigh of relief.
The Pilot carries on singing as he watches, "Remember me to one who lives there, for she was once a true love of mine..." Maintaining the tune, he reaches down with his left arm and gathers up the herbs from the floor, stuffing them into his jacket pocket. "Tell her to make a cambric shirt, parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme..."
The Cook passes by carrying a large pot of chili. He overhears The Pilot's song and sets the pot down in front of him. "You like herbs, eh?" He pulls out a few herbs from his front pocket and throws it at him. "There ya go. Maybe you can work in the kitchens next, ha haw ha!" He picks up his pot and continues to laugh, but the Guards only yell at him.
"Don't encourge the fool!"
"We don't know what he's capable of!"
Catching scent of the chili, one of the Guards inches forward, still tugging onto the Pilot's left arm. "Let me try that!" Dipping his finger in the chili, he spits it out and pulls a wry face. "What-what do you even call that? You planning to send everyone here to the emergency room?!"
The Cook pulls the chili closer to him. "Maybe if your 'guests' would stop their yapping, I'd be able to focus more often!"
Angered by his words, the Guard moves closer and grunts. "You going to speak to me like that cook?" He lets go of his hold on the Pilot and points an accusing finger at him. "If you don't know how to cook in a place like this, then you don't know how to cook anywhere!"
The Cook stomps his foot and drops the chili pot. Crossing his arms, he tilts his chin upward. "Then why don't you call one of them fancy chefs from those cooking shows you always like to watch to come 'ere and feed ya!"
The chili pot leans to one end before balancing upright. The other Guard, still keeping a firm hold of the Pilot, breathes a sigh of relief.
The Pilot carries on singing as he watches, "Remember me to one who lives there, for she was once a true love of mine..." Maintaining the tune, he reaches down with his left arm and gathers up the herbs from the floor, stuffing them into his jacket pocket. "Tell her to make a cambric shirt, parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme..."
A light squish follows his footsteps as water swrils around his shoe.
Standing next to him, the Guard pulls a face and looks below him. He steps back, thinking the worst and scowls at the Pilot. "You soiled your-"
BOOM!
Ceasing their squabble, the Cook along with the Guards look in the direction of General Flame's Room.
***
Dr. Elexander is quietly sipping a freshly made cup of coffee in his office. Setting it down at his desk, he glares as it begins to vibrate. Looking around him, everything in his office is shaking. He picks up his nameplate from the floor and places it back in its position as the rumbling stops. Shifting his eyes to and fro, he takes up his coffee and resumes drinking, but immediately spills it over his shirt as a loud noise startles him. He retreats to the restroom, screaming on the way there. "wHaT hAvE yOu DoNe NoW?"
He is shocked to find water flooding the hallways.
Sliding across the floor in an office chair, Vinnie salutes him. "Eh, bit of a mishap in Patient 203's room." He bumps into a wall, losing balance for a moment before swerving his seat to the right. He continues sailing the flooded hallways to the amazement of Elexander.
"Yes, yes, they're supposed to meet me here...Geraldine gave me the booking information..." The pilot reaches sinside his jacket and produces a crumpled sheet of paper, which he holds out to the Man In Maroon in a way that suggests he is attemting to stuff it through a letterbox. Although it appears to be a spa booking form, closer examination reveals the reverse side of the sheet is completed paperwork for the confinement of "Henry Reginald Batterton IV" to the asylum.
Carrying on his facade of friendly compnay, the Man In Maroon slowly reaches out and takes the paper. Skimining over its contents while placing it in his front pocket. "All well and good."
Returning from Flame's room, two guards gruffly wipe away tufts of wool sticking to their eyelashes and uniforms. Clasping his hands in joy, the Man In Marron turns his head and beckons for them to join him, throwing them a hearty laugh to hide his scowling eyes. Shuffling to attention, the guards smile and begin acting as if they and the Pilot were old friends.
"Ah, who's this?"
"A new friend to share a good yarn with, that's who!"
They feign a laugh in unison and one of them pats the pilot on the back. The Man In Maroon nods, pleased with their response. "And that is why you'll show him to his one of a kind lodging."
"Of course!"
"Can't keep 'em waiting!"
Locking arms, they lift him up from the ground and carry him down a long corridor, chatting away on meaningless rabble to keep his spirits up. From the end of the hallway, the Man In Maroon watches, still wearing a huge grin. His cheerful voice echoes, "Remember, he's paid for the best room! Make it so!"
Trembling, a third janitor finds himself caught in the Man's stern gaze. He scurries onto the next hallway, tripping over his oversized shoes and spilling his small pail of cleaning solution.
Wiping a drop from the nametag, the Man In Maroon inspects it with pride, muttering to himself. "Dr. Elexander, at your service."
The Pilot carries on singing as he watches, "Remember me to one who lives there, for she was once a true love of mine..." Maintaining the tune, he reaches down with his left arm and gathers up the herbs from the floor, stuffing them into his jacket pocket. "Tell her to make a cambric shirt, parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme..."
A light squish follows his footsteps as water swrils around his shoe.
Standing next to him, the Guard pulls a face and looks below him. He steps back, thinking the worst and scowls at the Pilot. "You soiled your-"
BOOM!
Ceasing their squabble, the Cook along with the Guards look in the direction of General Flame's Room.
***
Dr. Elexander is quietly sipping a freshly made cup of coffee in his office. Setting it down at his desk, he glares as it begins to vibrate. Looking around him, everything in his office is shaking. He picks up his nameplate from the floor and places it back in its position as the rumbling stops. Shifting his eyes to and fro, he takes up his coffee and resumes drinking, but immediately spills it over his shirt as a loud noise startles him. He retreats to the restroom, screaming on the way there. "wHaT hAvE yOu DoNe NoW?"
He is shocked to find water flooding the hallways.
Sliding across the floor in an office chair, Vinnie salutes him. "Eh, bit of a mishap in Patient 203's room." He bumps into a wall, losing balance for a moment before swerving his seat to the right. He continues sailing the flooded hallways to the amazement of Elexander.
*Flame waits for someone to open his room's door, ready to pounce on whoever steps through*
The Pilot carries on singing as he watches, "Remember me to one who lives there, for she was once a true love of mine..." Maintaining the tune, he reaches down with his left arm and gathers up the herbs from the floor, stuffing them into his jacket pocket. "Tell her to make a cambric shirt, parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme..."
A light squish follows his footsteps as water swrils around his shoe.
Standing next to him, the Guard pulls a face and looks below him. He steps back, thinking the worst and scowls at the Pilot. "You soiled your-"
BOOM!
Ceasing their squabble, the Cook along with the Guards look in the direction of General Flame's Room.
***
Dr. Elexander is quietly sipping a freshly made cup of coffee in his office. Setting it down at his desk, he glares as it begins to vibrate. Looking around him, everything in his office is shaking. He picks up his nameplate from the floor and places it back in its position as the rumbling stops. Shifting his eyes to and fro, he takes up his coffee and resumes drinking, but immediately spills it over his shirt as a loud noise startles him. He retreats to the restroom, screaming on the way there. "wHaT hAvE yOu DoNe NoW?"
He is shocked to find water flooding the hallways.
Sliding across the floor in an office chair, Vinnie salutes him. "Eh, bit of a mishap in Patient 203's room." He bumps into a wall, losing balance for a moment before swerving his seat to the right. He continues sailing the flooded hallways to the amazement of Elexander.
The Pilot continues in blissful ignorance, "Tell her to make me a cambric shirt, parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme..." He now starts swaying in time with the tune, showing remarkable stength as he pulls the two guards from left to right and back again. "Without any seam nor needlework...and then she'll be a true love of mine..."
*** Meanwhile, in the garden, the Leprechaun-in-chief's-uncle's-godmother's-sister-in-law looks around at the noise coming from the building. She slowly gets to her feet, stuffing her knitting and ipad into a large handbag, before grasping her zimmer frame and wandering inside.
Carrying on his facade of friendly compnay, the Man In Maroon slowly reaches out and takes the paper. Skimining over its contents while placing it in his front pocket. "All well and good."
Returning from Flame's room, two guards gruffly wipe away tufts of wool sticking to their eyelashes and uniforms. Clasping his hands in joy, the Man In Marron turns his head and beckons for them to join him, throwing them a hearty laugh to hide his scowling eyes. Shuffling to attention, the guards smile and begin acting as if they and the Pilot were old friends.
"Ah, who's this?"
"A new friend to share a good yarn with, that's who!"
They feign a laugh in unison and one of them pats the pilot on the back. The Man In Maroon nods, pleased with their response. "And that is why you'll show him to his one of a kind lodging."
"Of course!"
"Can't keep 'em waiting!"
Locking arms, they lift him up from the ground and carry him down a long corridor, chatting away on meaningless rabble to keep his spirits up. From the end of the hallway, the Man In Maroon watches, still wearing a huge grin. His cheerful voice echoes, "Remember, he's paid for the best room! Make it so!"
Trembling, a third janitor finds himself caught in the Man's stern gaze. He scurries onto the next hallway, tripping over his oversized shoes and spilling his small pail of cleaning solution.
Wiping a drop from the nametag, the Man In Maroon inspects it with pride, muttering to himself. "Dr. Elexander, at your service."
A light squish follows his footsteps as water swrils around his shoe.
Standing next to him, the Guard pulls a face and looks below him. He steps back, thinking the worst and scowls at the Pilot. "You soiled your-"
BOOM!
Ceasing their squabble, the Cook along with the Guards look in the direction of General Flame's Room.
***
Dr. Elexander is quietly sipping a freshly made cup of coffee in his office. Setting it down at his desk, he glares as it begins to vibrate. Looking around him, everything in his office is shaking. He picks up his nameplate from the floor and places it back in its position as the rumbling stops. Shifting his eyes to and fro, he takes up his coffee and resumes drinking, but immediately spills it over his shirt as a loud noise startles him. He retreats to the restroom, screaming on the way there. "wHaT hAvE yOu DoNe NoW?"
He is shocked to find water flooding the hallways.
Sliding across the floor in an office chair, Vinnie salutes him. "Eh, bit of a mishap in Patient 203's room." He bumps into a wall, losing balance for a moment before swerving his seat to the right. He continues sailing the flooded hallways to the amazement of Elexander.
*Flame waits for someone to open his room's door, ready to pounce on whoever steps through*
The bolts of the door are loosened, and it falls backward...in the direction of Flame.
A light squish follows his footsteps as water swrils around his shoe.
Standing next to him, the Guard pulls a face and looks below him. He steps back, thinking the worst and scowls at the Pilot. "You soiled your-"
BOOM!
Ceasing their squabble, the Cook along with the Guards look in the direction of General Flame's Room.
***
Dr. Elexander is quietly sipping a freshly made cup of coffee in his office. Setting it down at his desk, he glares as it begins to vibrate. Looking around him, everything in his office is shaking. He picks up his nameplate from the floor and places it back in its position as the rumbling stops. Shifting his eyes to and fro, he takes up his coffee and resumes drinking, but immediately spills it over his shirt as a loud noise startles him. He retreats to the restroom, screaming on the way there. "wHaT hAvE yOu DoNe NoW?"
He is shocked to find water flooding the hallways.
Sliding across the floor in an office chair, Vinnie salutes him. "Eh, bit of a mishap in Patient 203's room." He bumps into a wall, losing balance for a moment before swerving his seat to the right. He continues sailing the flooded hallways to the amazement of Elexander.
The Pilot continues in blissful ignorance, "Tell her to make me a cambric shirt, parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme..." He now starts swaying in time with the tune, showing remarkable stength as he pulls the two guards from left to right and back again. "Without any seam nor needlework...and then she'll be a true love of mine..."
*** Meanwhile, in the garden, the Leprechaun-in-chief's-uncle's-godmother's-sister-in-law looks around at the noise coming from the building. She slowly gets to her feet, stuffing her knitting and ipad into a large handbag, before grasping her zimmer frame and wandering inside.
Back inside, the angry guard is pulled back and tries to keep his balance as the increasing water was making him slip. The Cook expresses mock horror and pulls a face. "Oh no, keep in time or you'll ruin his song! Ha ha! Serves you-"
A giant wave crashes into him. Grub is surfing on the wave with a desk and grabs ahold of him by the neck collar, placing him ontop of it. He turns to salute him! "So you made the chili! I extend many thanks. Now, time to perform a search and rescue!" He steers the desk back to the Pilot and pokes the water with a foam noodle. "Uh...hope we didn't drown him...heh heh..."
The bolts of the door are loosened, and it falls backward...in the direction of Flame.
*Flame jumps to the side to avoid the falling door*
Sprawled face flat over the door is Rodge who weakly extends a hand upward. "Hi."
Guards could be heard yelling from across the hallway. "Quick! Get the sponge!"
Rodge immediately stiffens, sporting a large bruise on his forehead. "We can't let em get the sponge, they'll suck all the water dry! Hurry! Hop on board, we gotta sail out of here!"
"Yes, yes, they're supposed to meet me here...Geraldine gave me the booking information..." The pilot reaches sinside his jacket and produces a crumpled sheet of paper, which he holds out to the Man In Maroon in a way that suggests he is attemting to stuff it through a letterbox. Although it appears to be a spa booking form, closer examination reveals the reverse side of the sheet is completed paperwork for the confinement of "Henry Reginald Batterton IV" to the asylum.
Carrying on his facade of friendly compnay, the Man In Maroon slowly reaches out and takes the paper. Skimining over its contents while placing it in his front pocket. "All well and good."
Returning from Flame's room, two guards gruffly wipe away tufts of wool sticking to their eyelashes and uniforms. Clasping his hands in joy, the Man In Marron turns his head and beckons for them to join him, throwing them a hearty laugh to hide his scowling eyes. Shuffling to attention, the guards smile and begin acting as if they and the Pilot were old friends.
"Ah, who's this?"
"A new friend to share a good yarn with, that's who!"
They feign a laugh in unison and one of them pats the pilot on the back. The Man In Maroon nods, pleased with their response. "And that is why you'll show him to his one of a kind lodging."
"Of course!"
"Can't keep 'em waiting!"
Locking arms, they lift him up from the ground and carry him down a long corridor, chatting away on meaningless rabble to keep his spirits up. From the end of the hallway, the Man In Maroon watches, still wearing a huge grin. His cheerful voice echoes, "Remember, he's paid for the best room! Make it so!"
Trembling, a third janitor finds himself caught in the Man's stern gaze. He scurries onto the next hallway, tripping over his oversized shoes and spilling his small pail of cleaning solution.
Wiping a drop from the nametag, the Man In Maroon inspects it with pride, muttering to himself. "Dr. Elexander, at your service."
*The Man in Maroon sees Baton walk past, making his rounds, out of the corner of his eye. He notices Baton is back to his habit of wearing a ninja gi and katana, rather than the guard uniform and equipment all guards are required to wear.* =P
*Flame jumps to the side to avoid the falling door*
Sprawled face flat over the door is Rodge who weakly extends a hand upward. "Hi."
Guards could be heard yelling from across the hallway. "Quick! Get the sponge!"
Rodge immediately stiffens, sporting a large bruise on his forehead. "We can't let em get the sponge, they'll suck all the water dry! Hurry! Hop on board, we gotta sail out of here!"
*Flame is about to make the bruise even worse, but stops when Rodge says this. He does as Rodge suggests, realizing that perhaps this is the guy who helped start the flooding to begin with...*
The Pilot continues in blissful ignorance, "Tell her to make me a cambric shirt, parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme..." He now starts swaying in time with the tune, showing remarkable stength as he pulls the two guards from left to right and back again. "Without any seam nor needlework...and then she'll be a true love of mine..."
*** Meanwhile, in the garden, the Leprechaun-in-chief's-uncle's-godmother's-sister-in-law looks around at the noise coming from the building. She slowly gets to her feet, stuffing her knitting and ipad into a large handbag, before grasping her zimmer frame and wandering inside.
Back inside, the angry guard is pulled back and tries to keep his balance as the increasing water was making him slip. The Cook expresses mock horror and pulls a face. "Oh no, keep in time or you'll ruin his song! Ha ha! Serves you-"
A giant wave crashes into him. Grub is surfing on the wave with a desk and grabs ahold of him by the neck collar, placing him ontop of it. He turns to salute him! "So you made the chili! I extend many thanks. Now, time to perform a search and rescue!" He steers the desk back to the Pilot and pokes the water with a foam noodle. "Uh...hope we didn't drown him...heh heh..."
The Cook rolls his eyes and crosses his arms.
The Pilot momentarily vanishes beneath the wave, leaving no sign but a trail of large bubbles. Anyone with their head beneath the water hears distorted words, "Telllll her to wash it in yonnnnder dry wellllll, parsley, sage, rosemaryyyyy and thyme..." The Pilot then erupts from the water, still dragging the second guard by the arm. He takes in a brief gasp of air, before continuing the song not a second out of tune. "Which never sprung water nor rain ever fell...and then she'll be a true love of miiiiine..."
The Leprechaun-in-chief's-uncle's-godmother'-sister-in-law, meanwhile, stops as she sees the water approaching, and pulls an inflatable bed out of her handbag. Unhurriedly, she takes a long, deep breath, swelling up the size of a pufferfish, before exhaling into it. After several breaths, the inflatable is filled, and she seals the airhole before clambering on. As the water reaches her, she grabs the zimmer frame and lifts it onto the bed.
