original post date 10 October 2009
I’ve been looking forward to my weekly run to New Babbage and settling into a comfortable pub in Clockhaven while waiting for new cargo, so I was a bit concerned when I got into the city and noticed everyone was carrying arms. I dropped to the street as someone yelled “down!” just in time to hear the blast of a shotgun from a doorway. When I looked up, a woman was down to the right of me, a red splatter on the cobblestones where her head used to be. The man with the shotgun quickly ushered me inside and explained the situation. A zombie plague was loose in the city.
Something had gone very wrong. I had to find Tenk.
/me shambles unsteadily thru the streets following the smell of singed flesh….
mmmm…can’t quite place it…not steak, not pork, nor chicken….but can’t be good for the cholesterol…not that it matters…meeeeeeaaaaaat
*hides inside coal pile in bedroom*
*readies gatling gun*
Now that the zombies were put in their graves again, I decided to have my ship hauled out for an overdue bottom scraping and repairs. My former rooms at Bolyai had been rented out a pair of priests, so Tenk invited me to stay in the the city hall clocktower with him until the job was done. I had my reservations about this, seeing the flimsy shack clinging precariously to the side of the tower, but form required me to go up and make a show of it. I took my bedroll and a few essentials from the ship after I saw her securely into the cradles and made my way to City Hall.
Tenk was up in the clock, literally, wiping the soot from each gear with a freshly oiled rag. He was beside himself with pleasure over his beloved machine. That is to say, he was insufferable.
“I’ve finally fixed her,” he said, beaming proudly. “I knew she just needed a little care. She hasn’t missed a second for weeks.”
I stood closer to the small stove and rummaged about for tea, something to take the chill off the morning, then settled in to watch Tenk work. He sat and wiped the groove of a bevel gear as each tooth became exposed from its brother gear, chattering aimlessly about his long battle with the clock.
“hrm,” he muttered. “This shaft always walks itself out. Just tap it back into place…”
He gently put the head of his wrench on the shoulder of the bevel gear, and gave the back of the handle a bump with the blade of his hand. The gear and shaft assembly nudged back into place with an audible click…
And then the clock stopped.
Tenk blinked. His face went pale for an instant, then livid red.
“IT WAS PERFECT!” he yelled.
Quickly he stomped over to the bench and took a oiled bundle down from the shelf. He unrolled his tools to the table and began working on the tempermental old clock. It was time to find better lodging.
“I’ll bring back a sandwich,” I said over my shoulder as the elevator arrived. If I was reading him right, it would be several days before he would be in a mood to talk again.
Well, it WAS perfect ! –Mr. Tenk
… –Mr. Underby
Ceejay walks briskly through town on an errand run, and glances up at the clocktower to see if she’s running late. She stops dead in her tracks, knowing that particular time canNOT be correct. “This is not good at ALL! What’s wrong with him?” she mutters, not find it all strange to be concerned for him, rather than it. –Ceejay Writer
/me looks up .. well it better be fixed soon . or its curtains for all of us.. gosh … he gets soo grumpy and stuff , leaves some freshed baked cookies from his pals that live up in the trees ..*smiles* –Breezy Carver
*stands with hand on hip looking up at the clocktower* Well….. I wonder what has happened. *Puts a pot of wiggyfish chowder out for the clockwinder to help him work* –Mara Razor
what time is it when the little hand’s on 1/2 and the big hands spinning around like a top? –Grendel Footman