From: braley@binkley.cs.mcgill.ca (The Didi-Sprite)
Subject: The Callahan Chronicles - The Tinman Odyssey.
Organization: Yale CS Mail/News Gateway
Date: Sun, 22 Nov 1992 11:17:01 GMT


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Sklunksh!

Nick staggers in the door, in terror of his life! He is dripping wet!
What a horrible fate! first his- car - what a horrible metal
monstrosity! - breaks down, then halfway to the light on the hill, it
suddenly pours rain. HE WILL RUST.

The front portal of this place has a single lightbulb over it. NO WAIT!
it is a tiny lantern with a flame in it! How odd! He could have sworn...

But the portal does not protect from the fury of the rain, and already
he is rusting, and he has dropped his oilcan somewhere!

The door opens at his knock. He stumbles in. But nobody is there. A tiny
lantern barely lights a long hall with hulking shapes. The roar of the
storm blots out any noises from within. Nick attempts to call for help,
but his jaw has rusted shut already. What is he going to do?

Suddenly the wind slams the door shut with a loud, hollow thud! which
echoes THUDThudthudud.d.d.d... Then nothing but the faint sound of the
storm and some odd whispery sounds....

Nick sees a cord hanging from a bell. He reaches for it and GREEEKKK!
The arm is frozen. And the legs. And the torso. And everything! Only the
eyes can move, and in the hollow kettle chest, a wildly beating heart -
helpless. Things remain like that for some time.

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"I think you should check the bread dough, Grantkins.  I think it is
ready to be punched down and re-set."  suggests Didi.

The kitchen has become the center for folk returning from adventures.
It's cave-like quality and the warmth generated by the crackling fire
on the hearth give it a 'safe haven' quality.

"You really do look ... err ... lethal! ... in that outfit, Danger
Mousekins!  You gave me quite a turn when we met in the woods!"
Didi shudders again, remembering.

Talk and laughter swirl about in counterpoint to the wind and rain
lashing the side of the house.

"This has definitely been a Halloween with a difference."  remarks
one of the taste-testers, licking caramel off his fingers.

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              		   	     *>-->----

Nick has relaxed. There is nothing he can do. He daydreams. About yellow
brick roads, flying sofas, Tin castles, animated vaccuum cleaners, and a
cozy bar now centuries away.

He comes back with a start, still unable to twitch a muscle. HIS FEET
ARE NO LONGER ON THE GROUND. He swings through the air as a giant
pendulum. But no rope or cable appears attached, none he can feel. He
cannot look up, of course. The swinging stops. He feels himself lowered.
His feed touch something solid. He stands, but his eyes are still quite
a bit higher than they had been. He is in the hall, still, up about 3
feet. And still the whispery noises.

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"Shhh!"  cautions Kitten.  "Did you hear a thud?"

"Probably a loose shutter banging in the wind.  It is pretty wild out
there."  suggests Danger Mouse, reasonably.

Didi shivers inwardly.  Nothing about this night strikes her as
reasonable.

Having recovered from their earlier adventure, the Aussies decide they
are game for another foray into the dark dankness of the interior and
so set out in search for the source of the thud.

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Voices! Someone is coming! They sound scared! But they will find him and
some oil and save him! He cannot turn his head to see, but they are
coming right toward him. THEY MUST SEE ME! he thinks.

Into his field of view come the intrepid band from Down Under.  Nick does 
not recognize them but from their talk they must be lost wayfarers like 
himself. Maybe even other Callahanians! Surely they will recognize him!

"Gads! this place is creepy! Positively medieval!"

"You said it! The perfect Holloween Haunted House. I still think
something is lurking invisible nearby."

"Invisible, inshmisible. You just dropped your walking stick and
forgot where you lost it, dummy"

"Man,... look at these creepy statues. Old rusty armor, ancient weapons,
coats of arms.... This one is a little different," (waves at Nick) " and
reminds me of something, I do not know what. Look at that halberd!" Nick
realizes a long-handled axe with a spearpoint attached, has been placed
in his frozen, upraised hand. Amazing!

The figures move on.

"Well, we cannot go out in that storm, and this place seems awfully
empty, dispite the oil lamps here and there. Spookier, and spookier said
Alice"

"That's Curiouser and Curiouser, dummy!" They pass around the corner and
their voices fade. Nick is astounded. He was standing there in plain
sight, and they ignored him! Then he realizes! The platform is the same
as the platform under each of the suits of armor lining one side of the
hallway when he came in. HE IS NOW JUST ANOTHER SUIT OF ARMOR! HORRORS!

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Meanwhile ...

Arachne did not really like rainy weather. It made her itch. Also, the
nice little bugs would hide in the woodwork. She did not really eat the
bugs much, except for seasoning now and then. But without the bugs,
the bats could only sleep. She LOVED to catch bats and munch on their
leathery little wings. Delightful. Well, there were always the mice. She
began to explore, looking for mouse droppings. They were there. So,
where should she set her traps? The kitchen? Long cleaned out by the
vermin. The conservatory with its jungle of dead plants? The library
with its moldering tomes? Yes, the library seemed like a good bet.

She carefully worked her way to the door of her room and out into the
hall. Several pictures were askew. How careless of the little rodents!
She straightened them in passing. She could see perfectly well, in the
dark hallways, especially with the intermittent flashes of lightning,
but maybe a lamp or two would help attract dinner.

She examined the lamps at either end of the hall. Both still had a
little oil. They would need refills. Ah, well, she could light them and
let them burn down in the hour or so it would take to find the oil. In
the cellar, maybe, or the attic, or the rear secret passage. Dear, dear,
why did she always forget these things. Never mind. She found the
striker near the inner lamp. In a second she had it lit. Then a quick
run down to the far end of the hall and the second lamp was lit. Flash!
Rumblerumble. Miserable storm. She turned from the two feeble lights,
and headed for the stairs.

Arachne did not use stairs. In fact, she did not use the floor at all.
Above the stairs was a large chandelier. The candles had long since
burned out, but the fixture was still sound. She swung out over the
stairwell and let herself down on the cable of silk she had spun over
the years. Grabbed the molding near the ceiling at the bottom, and began
to walk.

On the ceiling. She really preferred heads down. And in 50 years of
living in the old mansion, she had explored all the footholds she could
possibly use. She could have walked on the ceiling almost as well
without the use of her eight eyes, because she could feel the holds with
the sensitive hairs on her feet and legs.

She walked into the dining room. Across the ceiling to the large hutch
in the corner. A slight shove. The tall dish case turned into the wall,
revealing a dark passage beyond. She entered. The hutch swung back.

Down the passage in total darkness. Now lets see, if she had left some
oil in HERE, it would be on the set of shelves behind the conservatory.
Ah, here we are. She felt the shelves. Lots of tools, old jars of screws
and nuts, a skull, human, an entire cat skeleton, various knives and
axes which never got sharpened on the stone there, a large can of black
powder. A wooden box of lead shot. Ah, yes! A big can of oil!

She felt around some more. Lets see - a small oil can for transferring.
There it was. Still a little oil in it. She filled it from the larger
can through a tiny spigot at its base. Back to the upper hallway!

Halfway to the stairwell, the front door banged open. DRAT! that latch
was giving her trouble again! She turned to go shut it when something
CLOSED the door! HUMANS!

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The aroma of bread baking, fondu bubbling, and stew warming (Didi and
Bear found a kettle of stew along with some other goodies, tucked away 
in what could only be the cold room) is too much for some to tolerate.
So the inhabitants of the kitchen decide that they will form small
parties and disperse amongst the rooms.  There's time for another
adventure or two before supper. 

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A gypsy girl comes around the corner with a lantern. "You look down this
hall?"

A large Kzin in a soaked CalTech t-shirt follows, growls "Nawh, This
place is a hopeless maze.  What is down here?"

She looks. "A bunch of armor. Rusty. Like a poorly kept museum. Atmo-
sphere, I suppose. Whoever has set this up had a DROLL sense of humor."
She holds a piece of paper up to her lantern. "Lets see, we are still
missing <didi supply list> and Nick Chopper."

"Old Nick? With a name like that he probably set this exercise up!"

"Can it, Speaker, too may of us have shown up in this place for it to be
coincidence. Higher powers are at work here. Nick is probably a victim,
too. I am just worried that he got caught in the storm out there and is
now rusting to death somewhere. If he is not down here, maybe there is a
room at the end here. Any doors?"

"Three"

"Try the left one"

With a loud, squeeling groan, the left door opens. They walk through.
Then nothing. They do not come out.

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"Well, those rats sure deserted this ship in a hurry, huh?"  Giggles
Didi, as she sets a couple of deep-dish apple pies along with three
wonderfully aromatic pumpkin pies on a platform to bake over a bed of 
red hot coals in the hearth.  "Just when I was about to call for
volunteers to peel a few more apples!"

Grant, with Kitten's help, is busily tidying up after his culinary efforts.  
They agree that there is nothing like a neat kitchen.

"Since all we have to do now is wait, why don't we join them?"  he asks
of his companions.  "A nice bit of exploration just might put an edge on 
my appetite!"

Didi giggles and checks her appearance in the shiny surface of a
copper kettle hanging on the wall beside the fireplace.  She adjusts the
angle of her cap, then announces:  "Well ... I'm ready!  Let's go!
House beware!  Here we come!"

So, arm-in-arm, and lantern-in-hand, the three friends set out on the
trail of adventure.

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The middle door groans open. A head sticks out. "Oh, the hall!" exclaims
a rather large blond kitten. She walks out, looks around at the dim
figures. Didi and Grantkins join her, holding hands, not just in
friendship. They peer through the dimness.

"Well," says the Sprite, "we have found most of us, though Danger Mouse
has disappeared again. But we never found Nick."

"I just KNOW Nick has rusted solid by now! If only we can find some oil
and get it to him!"

"Fret not, Kitten" assures Grant. "We will find him AND some oil and all
will be righted. I think" They all peer around. Grant goes up to the
nearest armor and bends over. Then pulls out his lighter. The flame is
enough to show (Wirtenberg, 1570), the next shows (Herzegovina, 1620).
He reads them off to the others. The fifth one reads (Oz, 1902).

The three friends stop, look at each other, then up at the armor.

"NICK!" They all scream together. Nick feels vaste, vaste relief. Now if
only he had some oil! Kitten and Didi each hug a rusty leg, being
careful not to knock the tin man off his pedistal. Grant runs off to get
the others.

"Oh, Nick! We were so afraid you were lost in the storm!"

"And rusted solid"

"And cold!"

"Unloved!"

"Abandoned!"

"But here we find you, in this crazy old house with 30 other
Callahanians running around!"

"What a spooky Holloween!"

Grant returns with the others. "Has anybody got some oil?" pleads the
sprite. They look helpless. Suddenly a wolf points behind Nick's heels.
"What is that?"

Kitten looks. It is an oilcan.

With much puffing and confusion and Troll, Kzin, and Balrog muscle, they
carefully lift the tin man down from the pedistal and annoint him in the
proper joints. He heaves a vaste sigh and hugs his friend to him.

"I would cry tears of joy at my rescue except then you would have to oil
me again. Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

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"We're all together again!  We're all together again!  We'll sing and
play the day away!  We're all together again!"  Chants the Didi sprite 
ecstatically.  

Then Bear suggests:  "Let's go eat!"



                                      HAPPY
                   HAPPY HALLOW     HAPPY     OWEEN  HAPPY
               HALLOWEEN  HAPPY HALLOWEEN  HAPPY HALLOWEEN  HAPP
           LOWEEN  HAPPY HALLOWEEN  HAPPY HALLOWEEN  HAPPY HALLOWEE
          APPY HALLOWEEN  HAPPY HALLOWEEN  HAPPY HAL OWEEN  HAPPY HAL
         ALLOWEEN  HAPPY   LLOWEEN  HAPPY HALLOWEE   HAPPY HALLOWEEN
         HAPPY HALLOWEEN    PPY HALLOWEEN  HAPPY     OWEEN  HAPPY HALL
         ALLOWEEN  HAPPY     OWEEN  HAPPY HALLOW     HAPPY HALLOWEEN
         HAPPY HALLOWEEN      Y HALLOWEEN  HAPP      OWEEN  HAPPY HALL
         ALLOWEEN  HAPPY       EEN  HA PY HALL       HAPPY HALLOWEEN
         HAPPY HALLOWEEN  HAPPY HALLO   N  HAPPY HALLOWEEN  HAPPY HALL
         ALLOWEEN  HAPPY HALLOWEEN        HALLOWEEN  HAPPY HALLOWEEN
          APPY HAL OWEEN  HAPPY HAL        HAPPY HALLOWEEN  HAPPY HAL
          LLOWEEN    PPY HALLOWEEN        HALLOWEEN  HAP    ALLOWEEN
           PPY HALLOW     HAPPY HALLOWEEN  HAPPY HAL     N  HAPPY HA
           LOWEEN  HAPPY       EEN  HAPPY HAL        HAPPY HALLOWEEN
            PY HALLOWEEN  H                      HALLOWEEN  HAPPY H
             WEEN  HAPPY HALLOWEEN  HAPPY HALLOWEEN  HAPPY HALLOW
                   OWEEN  HAPPY HALLOWEEN  HAPPY HALLOWEEN
                         HALLOWEEN  HAPPY HALLOWEEN


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This effort was mostly authored by:  Nick, the Tinman from Oz
with just a few interludes provided by:  The Didi-Sprite
who is solely responsible for its delay in arriving at your sites!
Apologies offered all 'round.

----<--<@

The Didi-Sprite
Montreal * Canada

braley@binkley.cs.mcgill.ca
Newsgroups: alt.callahans