The Adventures of The Wabbit - Il Comandante Coniglio
Thursday, November 22, 2018
6. The Problem of Doctor StrangeGlove
Doctor StrangeGlove prowled his control bunker like Hamlet in Elsinore's corridors, alternately laughing and growling. "Everything was in place. What meddling fools assault me so?" Computers whirred. Monitors flickered. He scanned them all and chortled. "Villains! Deviated preverts!" He paced some more and shook his head and brayed: "I stand for leadership and tradition and who does not stand with me .. will be made to lie down." A phone rang insistently. StrangeGlove ignored it. "Wrong number," he muttered. He knew his system had detected software intruders, but all the attacks bore his own signature. His minions had tried to trace them, but every attempt looped back his to own office with a read me attachment that said "Is the Doctor in?" His gloved fingers flapped in a cocked hat curve. He stooped to examine a monitor bearing a strange message. Bold red capitals glared from the screen. "The end is nigh." Doctor StrangeGlove started back and yelled. "I know that already, you fools. Nigh is my stock and trade." StrangeGlove contemplated the likely shape of the intruders. "Thuggish creatures no doubt. Large of body and small of mind." He sat at a terminal and keyed in lengthy instructions. "Doomsday cannot wait." breathed StrangeGlove. "I'm forced to forwardise it."