Cineverse - Bride Of The Slime Monster Part 6

Roger had had enough of this.

"Dee Dee!" he shouted.

"Tee hee hee!" Dee Dee replied.

"Grab my hand!" Roger instructed.

"Tee hee hee!" was Dee Dee's response.

"Hey, Roger-Dodger," Brian said, "you don't have to worry about these guys."

"That's right!" Frankie added. "Those guys won't be able to do a thing once we start another song!"

"No!" Roger shouted all too vehemently. He might be able to survive a knife cut or two. But Roger knew, if Bix Bale and the Belltones should do so much as tw.a.n.g a guitar string, he would be sucked into this surfing world forever.

He reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out the chewing-gum- encased ring. But how could he turn it without letting go of Dee Dee?

"Oh, yeah?" Sneer vituperated. "None of you can stop us!"

The entire Motorcycle Mob took a collectively threatening step toward Roger and Dee Dee.

Roger pushed the gummed ring against his ring finger. Now, if he could only push the dial around a bit with his thumb. Roger bit his lower lip. His thumb jerked against the ring, almost knocking it from his hand. He managed to close his fist about the ring before it fell, his heart leaping about in his chest. He would have to be much more careful. Especially with the ring broken the way it was, there was no safe way to turn it without using both hands."Frrnnnstbblll!" the Mumbler pointed out.

Sneer agreed. "He's got something in his hand. It looks like he's going to try some funny stuff!"

Then again, Roger realized that he didn't have to hold Dee Dee for both of them to escape. All that was necessary was for Dee Dee to have a hold on him.

"Dee Dee!" he instructed. "Put your hand around my waist!"

The beach bunny giggled girlishly.

"Ccrrkkvvbbmmnnzzwwll!" the Mumbler urged as he drew a ragged breath.

"See?" Sneer elucidated. "He's going to try some surfer trick!"

"Roger Dodger!" Brian called anxiously. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to hear another song?"

Dee Dee let go of Roger's hand and put her arm around his waist. She stepped close to hug him tight. Roger reached around her as well. Now, if he could just get his free hand on the ring. . ..

"Mssgllcklllpssfnnrrwttghjjjssk!" the Mumbler screamed, turning a very nice shade of blue in the process.

Dee Dee giggled in his ear. Roger admitted it: Even in a tense situation like this, it was distracting to hold a bikini-clad woman in your arms when you were trying to use your Captain Crusader Decoder Ring.

"Okay, boss!" Sneer announced with a jerk of his head. "Full frontal attack!"

That's when the ring slipped out of Roger's fingers.

"Tee hee hee," Dee Dee remarked as she deftly caught it.

"Snnrrk!" The Mumbler managed between great, gasping breaths. "Snnrrk!"

"Cut them now!" Sneer instructed as the mob ran at them through the sand.

What, Roger despaired, could they do? A half dozen leather-jacketed mobsters were bearing down on them as fast as they could make their way through the sand. Their very sharp knives glittered in the seaside sun.

"See you in the funny papers!" Roger yelled despite everything.

"Tee hee hee," Dee Dee replied nervously.

The sand was covered with blue smoke.* * *

The smoke cleared. Roger and Dee Dee stood on a suburban street.

"Tee hee-" Dee Dee began nervously, "tee-" She took a ragged breath. "Oh, thank the Cineverse! I'm no longer there!"

"Pardon?" Roger replied.

Dee Dee gave Roger's arm a comradely pat as she disengaged herself. "The Beach Party world! You've helped me escape. I can't thank you enough. Oh, but we haven't been properly introduced. Dr. Dee Dee Davenport, at your service." She shook Roger's hand heartily.

Roger thought to close his mouth. Somehow, this woman seemed almost completely different from the beach beauty he'd so recently hugged on the surfing world.

Dr. Davenport glanced down at her psychedelic green bikini. "Oh, but this is so... so ... inappropriate! " She frowned in a determined sort of way. "It's lucky we ma- terialized right around the comer from the Inst.i.tute."

She walked forward, her strides long and purposeful. Roger had to run to catch up.

Roger couldn't help but marvel how different this place was from all the other movie worlds he had found himself on. He looked up and down the street at two rows of white tract houses set back from the street by an acre or so of manicured green lawns.

Not that there was anything particularly special about this place. But that was it exactly. His surroundings were just so incredibly undistinguished. It could have been almost Anywhere, U.S.A. That's exactly what made it so strange.

Any doubts that he was still in the Cineverse were instantly dispelled when he read the street sign on the comer. One sign read "Anywhere Terrace," the other "Hometown Lane." He had fallen into what looked like the ultimate, mid-American movie world. But what happened on mid-American movie worlds? Roger had this sudden vision of domestic comedies about the trials of raising sixteen children. He shivered.

"Here we are!" Dr. Davenport led him up the driveway of a brick building a bit larger than those around the corner. A large bronze plaque by the door announced that this was "The Southern California Inst.i.tute of Very Advanced Science."

So this must be the inst.i.tute that Dee Dee-or Dr. Davenport, Roger corrected himself-so recently referred to. Roger admitted it. Once again, he was thoroughly confused. This had become a nagging problem ever since he had first found himself in the Cineverse: How could he ever hope to save anybody if he could never figure out what was going on?

Dr. Davenport opened the front door. Roger followed her inside. She pulled a pair of long white lab coats off a rack against one wall and handed one to Roger. She quickly put the other one on.She smiled. "At last! I feel dressed again!"

Roger noticed that the coat had a badge pinned to its plastic pocket pen protector; a badge that read dr. davenport.

"Here," the doctor instructed, "put yours on, too. Trust me. It gives you credibility."

Roger shrugged the coat over his shoulders. The badge on his pocket protector read guest.

"Come on now,'' she said as she once again boldly strode ahead. "It's time to get to work." She opened a second door, covered by a sign that read restricted area! au- thorized PERSONNEL ONLY!

A security guard looked up as they entered. "Dr. Davenport! Thank goodness you're here!"

"Yes, Smedley," she replied. "It feels good to be back."

"No," Smedley answered vehemently. "You don't understand. It's much worse than that. It's the Nucleotron!"

Dee Dee gasped. "The Nucleotron? But that means-"

Smedley nodded, confirming her worst fears. "The slime monster is gone!"

A red light began to blink above Smedley's desk. Somewhere in the distance Roger could hear the wail of sirens. "It's nearing critical ma.s.s!" Dr. Davenport ran down the hall. "Quick, Roger! If we don't do something soon, it's going to blow us all to Kingdom Come!"

^ ^ 6 ^ ^

"dread destination!"

"Bark bark! Yip yip arf!"

The dog's barking somehow rose over the gunfire.

"Yip bark! Arf yip bark!"

The shooting stopped.

Delores wondered if she should risk a look. She and her fellows had all taken refuge behind the large oak table that Zabana, with his jungle-bred reflexes, had tipped to one side in the same instant that the first shot was fired. So far, the wood had taken the brunt of the a.s.sault, and Doc had pulled his six-shooters from his deep suitcoat pockets, ready to pay back the villains in kind.

"You'll"-Doctor Dread's voice hesitated menacingly-"suffer for this!"

Doc peeked around the table's edge, guns at the ready.

"Well, I'll be doggone!" he exclaimed instead.

"Bark yip! Bark yip growl!" the dog replied.

Doc grinned down at his allies. "You all should take a look at this. It's plumb amusin'."

Delores cautiously peered out from behind the barricade, ever alert for treachery. Her mouth fell open. She had never expected this.

Everyone, all hundred of Dread's lackeys, seemed frozen in place. And all of them watched the drama unfolding at the very center of the room. There, flat on his back, was Doctor Dread, with a white German shepherd standing on his chest.

"Yip yip bark!" the dog remarked, its voice somewhat m.u.f.fled since its teeth had already pierced the material on Dread's snakeskin cowl-the same teeth that were now a fraction of an inch from the villain's neck!

"This is your last chance!" Dread declared one last time. "Before you are"-his hesitation sounded more uncertain than usual-"subtracted!"

The German shepherd only growled in response. Delores frowned. Where had she seen that dog before?

"All right, now!" a voice called in merrily through the now open door. "What's all the ruckus?"

"Yip yip!" the dog replied. "Bark bark yip!"

"Why," said the voice from the door, "it almost sounds like the little fella's talkin'." A rotund, white-haired police officer with a twinkle in his eye stepped into the bar.

"Officer O'Clanrahan!" Big Louie shouted.

"The very same, boyo," the policeman acknowledged, broadly winking at one and all.

"And I've brought my special helper along, too."

The shepherd wagged his tail as the policeman approached.

"That Dwight the Wonder Dog!" Zabana exclaimed in astonishment.

"Right you are, big fella," O'Clanrahan agreed. "Everybody knows Dwight the Wonder Dog."

They did? Delores frowned again. Then why didn't she? Maybe she had been spending too much time in Hero School. Still, even she had thought the dog looked familiar.

"Yip bark arf!" Dwight agreed as O'Clanrahan leaned down to scratch him behind the ears.

But the shepherd had relaxed his vigilance. It was only for a fraction of a second, but it was a fraction too much. Dread shifted and rolled, and Dwight lost his footing. The dog had to scamper back half a dozen feet as Dread scrambled to his feet, and Officer O'Clanrahan found himself staring into the business end of Big Bertha's roscoe.

"Faith and begorrah!" the policeman whispered.

"Yip yip arf!" Dwight barked apologetically. "Yip yip yip!"

"Yeah, boy," Louie replied. "It just might work."

Doctor Dread laughed, a sound to chill both flesh and bone. "Things seem to have- changed, don't they?" He glanced around at his hundred mobsters. "Now, who do you suppose we should-erase first?"

The dog and Officer O'Clanrahan neatly split the largest number of votes. But Big Bertha had other ideas.

"Kill her." She waved her gat at Delores. "She's the ringleader. Without her, the others are lost."

"Such language!" Dread reprimanded. "Still, there is a certain-logic in proposing Delores'-removal."

That's when Big Louie screamed.

Dwight jumped up onto his hind legs.

"He's walking backwards!" one of the gang members observed as the dog approached the leering Dread.The shepherd whined suddenly and flopped to the ground.

"He's rolling over," another gangster commented.

"Fools!" Dread began. "Don't you-"

But, before the villain could even hesitate meaningfully, Dwight had rolled over on his back, all four paws in the air and head to one side.

"He's playing dead!" one of the evil band exclaimed.

"Oh, how lifelike!" another enthused.