HEXILED

Another fine adventure for JonaHexed

 

Featuring amongst other events, the fearsome challenge of surviving a cranky Genial OsNarl in his first week in office, Spam auditioning canditiates for a new fourth member, and the return of JonaHexed, but first a totally irrelevant and irreverent update on what Sassy and Goldie are doing!

 

You know where studios! The Writer’s Room: Loud noises of banging and hammering.

Pugkept is franticly installing new quantum shielding that’s suppose to be canid repellent however he didn’t read the fine print. Po’boy is standing in the doorway making an observation while reading the manual.

 

“You’re going to overload the spell field if you make that shielding any thicker and that fetish is off balance!”

 

Pugkept snarls, curses, and makes the final adjustments.

 

“Just keep reading the manual! I want to be able to safely logon to the Net so I can go online without you know who and what taking offensive action.”

 

“Okay Pugkept mmm says here that the intended subjects should not be within the parameter of the protective field when the device is first activated or the hex focus will shift to nearby objects?”

 

“No problemo!” Pugkept snickered in response, “Surely no one would encourage them after the bath incident except maybe Amazing and she’s busy harassing Vietorius.”

 

“Oh yes she was last seen pounding on the door of the executive senior pro male washroom screaming. “and this time I want your promise in writing!” commented Po’boy, “and then she stomped back to her trailer muttering something about paying more attention to extreme fannish advice and remembering she used to be a feminist.”

 

(Extreme editorial fannish advice to actresses who want to direct – never ever accept verbal promises from MALE producers – get it signed and sealed and in writing!

Our advice to certain senior pros – SAY YES ROB and if you didn’t shame on you!)

 

“There!” exclaimed Pugkept, “the final tweak! I just say the magic words and those nasty little animals can’t sneak into the studio and unplug my modem or interview actors or hang around the craft table stealing donuts and sashimi!” Pugkept chants some suitable gibberish and then screams. His computer has just unplugged itself, grown arms and legs, and is now racing down the corridor escaping from him.

 

Po’Boy smiles and looks down the corridor in the other direction.

 

A Senior Producer is passing doggie bags of salmon sashimi and donuts with chocolate icing to a dear sweet cute absolutely harmless little dachsie (yes readers that is your cue for ironic laughter!) and an equally delightful small dragonoid on a skateboard and saying, “Okay there’s this week’s payoff girls! Please don’t tease the Junior Pros and leave the actors alone! Byebye!”

 

Po’boy smiles. Unlike Pugkept he knew better than to trust Acme products sold by a salesperson with the name W. E. Coyote.

 

(Editor’s note – well havn’t you ever wondered how a particular coyote pays for certain products? Perhaps they’re in lieu of payments or commissions for services rendered?)

 

We now resume our scheduled story – Hexiled!

 

 

It was another fine morning at Stargrope command. Recently promoted Genial Jackass OsNarl was being carried into the conference room by a squad of M. P.s. This morning he was whimpering about wanting to be “a corny kernel not a hammy genial”.

Spamela Reactor brings over a jug of black coffee and lovingly forces his mouth open and siphons some into the Genial. Tallawk and Spaniel Johnson pointedly ignore all this activity by pretending to read newspapers and magazines. After all this behaviour is an improvement on the first morning when OsNarl tried to get himself demoted back to Kernel by declaring war on Washington, yes the district capital territory, not the state, and ordering a flight of X-jet things to bomb the Vice President’s office.

 

Genial OsNarl exhales a cloud of steam and snaps into focus.

 

“Okay the first order on the agenda is extra team members to replace me.

I hope you all read the files on the suicidal idiots who apparently think this is really is a quiet peaceful telemetry project or have a really serious death wish. I’ll take comments from the table. People who wants to go first?”

 

Spam is reading a book on baby names. Next to it is a book entitled “Is your biological clock about to explode?” and another book on “Finding the Right Man and Keeping Him!” OsNarl does his alpha wolf growl, “Spam! Your professional opinions PLIZ!”

Spam looks at him, smiles with dangerous sweetness, and starts making clock noises. “Tickticktick.” Tallawk suddenly covers his mouth with his copy of Fortean Times. Suspicious snickering noises issue from behind it. Spaniel smiles at Spam and remarks. “Peter is a good name. Hey I heard you have NEW photos in your office”. OsNarl growls and glares at both of them and snaps, “Okay I’ll read the summaries!”

 

“First file. Former undercover operative code-name “One-eyed Scotch Season”

Qualified pilot with experience dealing with hostile aliens, psychotic girlfriends who want to destroy the universe, or openly use men as sex toys, neurotic mutants, and teenagers. Looking for new position after yet an unfortunate “accident” destroyed his employers’ prep school. Wants to get back into active field work. Air force family background.”

 

“That sounds promising!” boomed Tallawk. “We have an qualified pilot!” hissed Spam.

 

“Next Former government Black Ops agent. Multiple weapons skills especially with blades. Excellent tracker. Canadian national. Has worked for various UN and USA agencies. Martial arts training. Fluent in several languages. Good with vehicles especially motorbikes. However has been described as a loose cannon with attitude problems. Please no jokes about his height or relationship to Hugh Jackman.”

 

“I think we already have a taller version of that?” observed Spaniel very deliberately looking at the ceiling. (Editor’s Note: Junior was probably hovering up there!)

 

“The third file is that of a Mr. St Lone. Diplomat Businessman Former Black Ops Director and Art Collector. He’s your man if you need a sneaky manipulative borderline psychotic allegedly reformed paranoid negotiator. Has issues with children and wants to work here because his therapist told him to cut off all ties with previous negative relationships. Looking forward to working with or against the Goullawk and says he thinks their direct open hostility will be a refreshing change of pace.”

 

“Well at least that’s something different!” stated Sam.

 

“I thought we had at least one obsessive compulsive here already!” snaps OsNarl pointedly looking at Spaniel who has opened a laptop that has a screen saver 50% of his ex-wife and 50% of a certain blonde ex-Goullawk Goddess. Let’s his ex-wife was briefly a deity well possessed by one and his ex girlfriend became one and then he became …

 

“Hey there’s a fourth file here! I thought there was only three candidates!”

 

“Eager enthusiastic and keen alien with strange mutant powers wishes to rejoin his friends in action. Hey this is JonaHexed’s file! I thought we got rid of him shipping him off to that private clinic in New York State for genetic testing the last time he came to Earth for a visit!”

 

“I think that clinic was in the same building as that prep school that was destroyed?” observed Spaniel briefly looking up from a recent HeXed- MEN issue concealed by a copy of the New York Bugleboy.

 

Time for a dramatic interruption! A loud bamf A flash of light. A burst of smoke.

Two figures in dark clothing appear. Another bamf and one of them disappears, the cute curly furred brunette with the best pair of pointed ears to be found outside the Trek and Elfquest universe. If only we could finf a plotting excuse to keep him in the story!

 

The cloud disperses to reveal …

 

“Hey Guys Hey Spam I’m back! Did you miss me?”

 

Yes it’s JonaHexed wearing a fetching black leather outfit decorated with a yellow X in a circle motif. He’s wearing snugly cut leather pants and boots and a sexy shoulder flattering jacket! We pause here to allow JonaHexed fans time to drool and those who despise him time to boo and hiss. While that’s going on perhaps we should take a quick look at what’s going on back to You know where Studios.

 

Industrious crew are getting on with their work. Actors are rehearsing their lines. People are politely ignoring the loud pounding on the door of Vietorius’s office of an irate actress. Two individuals however are cheering her on in between mouthfuls of sashimi and donuts. These individuals are a long haired standard dachsie with silky red fur and a small dragonoid. Junior is probably outside a certain person’s window hovering in circles towing a banner with the words SAY YES ROB painted on it in bright purple.

 

Oh yes and Pugkept is chasing his computer around the car park apparently not having realized yet that this is not a effective method to counteract repulsion hexes.

 

We now take you back to your JonaHexed story!

 

JonaHexed is now seated at the conference table happily babbling on about his exciting adventures with the other HeXed men over in the Marvellously profitable Movies universe. OsNarl is snoring having fallen asleep. Only Spam and Tallawk actually appear to be paying any attention to JonaHexed. Spaniel is composing and singing love songs in Ancient Egyptian and playing an accompaniment on an authentic replica harp. Which may be why Osnarl is asleep?

 

Spaniel changes the background melody to “Twinkle twinkle Little Star.” OsNarl suddenly wakes up shudders with horror and snaps “where were we in the meeting!”

Spam sighs “Assessing candidates for a fourth member of Star Grope One Sir?” and picks up and turns a page in her baby names book.

 

JonaHexed asks an intelligent insightful question designed to keep the briefing on track and thereby making it lasting longer. The others glare at him. JonaHexed proceeds.

 

“Genial I was thinking that maybe we could have a test mission and take all the candidates along. Say to negotiate with System Lords or fight the Replicatoys or something difficult like afternoon tea with the Twoupya?” The others shudder remembering what happened the last time they had afternoon tea for the Twoupya.

Let’s just say OsNarl has a problem with cake forks and shouldn’t be allowed near lamingtons. Also a certain Former Genial Reactor has a problem with shredded coconut especially when it ends up all over him.

 

(Editor’s Note – Lamingtons at their finest are a wonderful simple delicacy combining chocolate, day old so it’s firm but not stale sponge, and shredded coconut, in a melt in your mouth contrast of textures and tastes. At their worst they are a nightmare of sponge at the wrong density that falls apart, soaked in chocolate that’s lumpy, combining into a cake too soft on one side and dry on the other, and there’s shredded coconut sticking to everything but the icing, and the whole thing become a soggy mess that falls apart. Do not make lamingtons at home unless you have a large kitchen or table, preferably both, several helpers, at least half of whom who have made them before, and children and dogs well out of the way. You have been warned! And if you don’t know who Genial Reactor is go back to Sassy Gate and read the other stories!)

 

OsNarl pales as afternoon tea is mentioned. Tallawk hides his face behind his copy of the Fortean Times again. Spaniel starts singing “You’re in the army now” in Sanskrit probably a good thing since he usually alters the lines and words to “You’re in the USAF now … you’re stuck with OsNarl now … you’re in the USAF now … you volunteered … you silly fowl!!!” Everyone glares at Spaniel.

 

Meanwhile back in the studios an exhausted Pugkept staggers back to his office and begs

“A producership! A producership for a computer! Any computer with a modem! Please! A computer … A computer … any computer … with a modem … sob must go online and receive adulation from fandom!” His computer sneaks up behind him makes a raspberry noise and scampers off again as he turns and lugs at it. The other writer producers pretend nothing has happened and get on with their writing. They know a good script will receive genuine praise, respect, and insightful critique and that Pugkept is there to be the scapegoat for fannish wrath.

 

Meanwhile back to our actual story … Star Grope One equals four minus three is briefing its new candidates before field testing and introducing them to SGC.

 

Spam is doing the introductions.

 

“And this is Spaniel Johnson! He’s our ancient cultures expert and a recycled deity!

He got to be a god last year but he’s human again! We think!” she hisses, turning and seeing Spaniel’s finger glow as he absent-mindedly writes with lines of light across the white board. The Seasonal Scots turn an interesting shade of post-traumatic memory flashback pale. Recycled deities who return from the dead is a personal issue thing for him.

 

Spam resumes her talk

“ …and this is Tallawk Liaision with the Jaffup Resistance oops Provisional Government we’re not allow to use that other word or people might start making ironic comparisons with real world politics! And finally if you see any dachshunds wandering through the corridors ignore them especially if they start talking to you. They’re not hallucinations. Just pretend they’re interesting weird aliens! On no account let them do exclusive interviews with you!”

 

A certain dachshund, sitting by Spam’s feet, wearing a sun visor with a large card labeled PRESS sticking up out of the headband, whines in annoyment, stands up, and leaves the room.

 

“Moving on let’s review our mission … er Mr StLone what are you doing?”

 

“I’m comparing these pictures of Goullawk artifacts to the Collector’s Guide to Rambarmy Devices.” Mr StLone smiles beatifically.

 

Spam stares meaningfully at him and states ominously,

“I have read your psychological profile!”

 

Mr StLone closes his book still smiling.

 

The Canadian candidate strolls in late for the briefing and lights a large cigar.

 

“Hey mister this is a non-smoking area!” states Spam.

 

The Canadian disrespectfully observes, “This is a smouldering object which I aint smoking yet! I heard there’s a lot of smouldering around here?” while looking in a suggestive manner at Spam’s pushup bra. He then points at OsNarl who is sitting down the far end of the table doodling pictures of semi-naked blonde women. Spam marches down to OsNarl’s end of the table yaks the scribble pad away from OsNarl tehn turns and glares at her audience.

 

“Any other questions? Right the next topic is the Two up ya then the “gentlemen” here will be pleased to note we’ll be discussing sexy Goullawk Queens and how to avoid being brainwashed and seduced by them.”

 

Spaniel turns an interesting shade of pale. JonaHexed looks smugly pleased.

Tallawk’s facial expression suggests some interesting memories of activities during his previous period of employment. Either that or he swallowed a lemon. OsNarl has a look on his face that suggests the onset of a recurrence of whatever strange alien virus gives him a fluctuating IQ? Shall we call it Really Dense Ancient Syndrome?

 

A brief pause to give the readers time to groan at that pun!

 

Some time later on an alien planet. A Biggie Round Thingie in the background.

 

The Canadian guy is sitting on a pile of Goullawk, Jaffaup, and other bodies complaining that the job is too easy and no challenge. Sam is standing nearby and draws a line through his name. The Seasonal guy is nonchalantly using various alien aerial artifacts for target material. He’s had lots of excellence. While doing this his cell phone rings and he whips it out of his jacket to answer while shifting his focus to some nearby big gun shooting things. Sam makes a big tick next to his name. The name shared with a famous author whose first name was W … guy gets off the phone and walks off to Spam.

 

“I’m terribly sorry Ma’am but I have to go. That was my girlfriend. The builders arrived ahead of schedule and I’m needed on site to sign documents and Em’s having a hissy fit cos she’s juggling half a dozen extended family crises, hers and mine. Sorry! I was hoping to enjoy this extended vacation! It’s been really restful.” Sam turns a thoughtful pallor wondering what sort of life style would lead to someone fighting Goullawk restful?

 

She turns to inspect the other candidates. StLone wanders to her carrying a large box marked specimens. He is smiling and cheerfully reports to her.

 

“Good news I’ve arranged a tech transfer! The Goullawk will trade their antigravity technology for my collection of Rambardi artifacts with an option to acquire more from US government and Convenient Corp holdings. I can finally free myself of my obsession by getting rid of all of them off planet. Yippee I can retire and be kindly Uncle Irv millionaire philanthropist and rose grower! And my ex children and friends will start speaking to me again!” Spam shudders in relief and draws a line through his name as he also wanders off towards the gate smiling beatifically.

 

A short distance away Spaniel is peacefully singing choruses from Euripidean dramas while also deciphering inscriptions while Tallawk is sunbaking and still reading the Fortean Times. Their piece of the action has being taken by JonaHexed. He is deflecting various foes who are too stupid to realize his improbability field is what’s making them have strange unlikely accidents every time they try to shoot wrestle tackle punch blahblahblah at his disconcertingly eager enthusiastic and keen grin. Ah that EEK factor! Who misses it? Actually I do but I have a soft spot for underdogs!

 

The last villain finally falls over and JonaHexed turns to Spam.

“Gee I missed my workouts! It’s great to be back but I better tell you I took a part time job just in case some one else got the job. I have to go now. I’m on call and have to go cancel a hex on some one’s computer.”

 

Spam screams in rage! “I have to audition more candidates!!!”

 

A bit more time later. JonaHexed dressed in overalls is reinstalling a certain computer. Pugkept is standing in the doorway scowling. He cant get any closer.

 

“Okay that defuses most of the hex. You wouldn’t be able to use it for at least a week and don’t stand too close to it. You’ll just have to sit near the door and read out notes to some one else. It’s lucky I got back when I did. You were just about to accidentally transfer the hex to Po’boy’s computer!”

 

We now see that Po’boy is standing possessively and protectively in front of his own computer, clutching an open manual to his chest and glowering while grumbling something that sounds suspiciously like “… told you to read the fine print…”

 

JonaHexed continues “ … now remember don’t touch any other computers in the studio for a week. I suggest you lease a laptop and use it at home!” he finished cheerfully.

 

Someone makes that strange almost inaudible sniggling sound some dogs make when they’re trying not to laugh at humans. Gentle readers we can safely conclude any attempts at writing or sending email may continue to be thwarted by that twofold farce of naughtiness known as the Temporal Pests!