Fumblings - Season Finale

Fumblings - Season Finale

Oxford Glaws 16 May 2018 14:30 pm said..

The Mute passed along the prison gangway, nodding appreciatively at those inmates who were calling out their sycophantic greetings. He followed the chief prison officer down the staircase, his Gucci loafers making barely a sound on the cold iron steps. The Mute pulled his satin dressing gown tight across his Savile Row-tailored prison uniform and he smoothed a wayward hair from his forehead. The guard turned the handle on the door to the visiting room. “Is there anything I can get you Mr Mute? A nice cup of your favourite Lapsang Suchoung perhaps?” Mute smiled graciously and shook his head.

Mute entered the drab room, with its grey painted walls, steel tables and chairs bolted to the floor. His visitor - the only other person in the place – was sitting at a table to one side, flicking at the screen on his Son of Samsung phone. The Mute sat down opposite and waved a lazy hand at the guard to indicate that privacy was required. Baz could feel his pulse quicken as he embarked upon what would be his first and last audience with The Mute - the man who had for thirty years been at the head of Gloucestershire’s crime syndicates; the man who had never spoken; the man who had at one time controlled half of the world’s illegal elver trade.

Baz slipped his phone into the inside pocket of his expensive Polledri jacket and finally caught The Mute’s gaze in those steely grey eyes. “I’m not here to parley Mute. We just need to know, do we have your blessing for our little enterprise?” The Mute’s expression didn’t change. He sat unmoving for a long, uncomfortable minute and then gave a barely discernible nod. Baz finally allowed himself to breathe. “Okay then. We’re on.”

***
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Re: Fumblings - Season Finale

Oxford Glaws 16 May 2018 14:33 pm said..

Inside the Old Dairy, on the edge of the Fumbligs Estate, which today was serving as a briefing room, Baz was standing in front of a white-board covered in hastily-scrawled arrows and haphazard drawings of something that looked vaguely like a street-map. Sitting around him in a semi-circle were Stephanie, Camilla, OG and the butler, Vickery. At the end of the row, nodding in time to the rap music that was pulsing from his Beats, was Johnny Halfway, the young programming genius from Bazsoft and author of the pernicious RTS2 virus.

Baz tapped at the whiteboard with the tip of the snooker cue he was using as a pointer. “This building is the main target – The Basque National Bank in Bilbao. As you know, our friends in Cheltenham have intercepted a message from the bank to Bruce Craig to confirm that his entire stash of gold bullion – worth £30m at today’s price – was transferred there last month. Ladies and gentlemen, if we can relieve the Coiffed Crusader of this heavy burden, the long-term future of Gloucester Rugby will be guaranteed and our rivals at the Rec will be driven into well-deserved penury.”

There was a buzz of approval around the room. Baz held up his hand to command silence. “This will require a great sacrifice in the short-term, but over the years it will result in Gloucester becoming the powerhouse of world rugby that I… we.. have always dreamed of.” He pointed to Johnny, indicating that it was time to remove his headphones. ”Johnny, would you like to tell us how we are going to get into the bank, and, more importantly, get out again.”

The unlikely-looking expert, resplendent in his bright orange surfer hoodie, shuffled to the front of the room. He wiped his nose on the back of his hand. “S’like this ‘innit. I am gonna re-route all the internet traffic generated from the Shedweb site through the main server in Bilbao. This server controls all the traffic lights in the city as well as all the security systems in the bank. If it works, we should be able to simply walk in and walk out again."

Baz interrupted him. “But this is all dependent on generating enough traffic on Shedweb. So what we need is some kind of controversy –something that will get everyone posting at once. Vickery, you are working on that right?”
Last edited by Oxford Glaws on 16 May 2018 15:00 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Fumblings - Season Finale

Oxford Glaws 16 May 2018 14:35 pm said..

“OG is our transportation ready?”

OG nodded “It’s outside.”

Baz grinned. “Good, let’s go and take a look then shall we?”

On the gravel driveway in front of the house stood a battered old coach, with the legend “KSM Fun Bus” painted in large red letters down the side. OG took what looked like a TV remote and pressed a button. The rear of the bus started to open like some giant hatch-back. “It’s all been specially adapted for the job. The gold will be loaded in through the rear. Now the thing that is going to be critical is the load balance. The gold will be at the rear of the bus, so we will need plenty of ballast at the front. This is to prevent some sort of unlikely disaster, like the rear wheels of the bus slipping and going over the edge of the road on some narrow Pyrenean pass. Fortunately, we have recruited a specialist team of guys whose job will be to provide ballast at the front of the bus. To reinforce this, we’ve installed a special extra-large tank for toilet waste under the front half of the bus. Essentially, the more our people drink, the more stable the vehicle will become.”

Baz stroked his chin. “Very good, but what about our own getaway vehicles?”

“They’re round the other side of the house. “

They ambled past the knot garden round the Laidlaw tower over to the south lawn. There standing in a neat row were three brand new Special Works Mini Coopers, in cherry, white and black. OG stood next to the black one. “These should do the job, 0-60 in 6.3 seconds, top speed 153mph.”

Baz nodded. “What about boot capacity?”

“Good question. Between they each have room for a couple of suitcases, or a child’s buggy or, say … I dunno,…. £10m in gold.”

Baz stood next to the white one. “I’m having this one. Camilla, you and OG can fight it out over the other two.”
Last edited by Oxford Glaws on 16 May 2018 15:01 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Fumblings - Season Finale

Oxford Glaws 16 May 2018 14:40 pm said..

Baz’s second-best Bentley Continental GT convertible was speeding along the narrow pass road beyond Biarritz, slicking its way round the hair-pin bends like a viper. The driver had one arm resting on the door, enjoying feeling the wind buffeting his flowing locks. He was only a few yards round the next bend when he spotted ahead three suited figures straddling the highway. Their machine guns were pointing directly at his windshield. He braked hard and came to a halt just in front of them. More armed figures appeared on the rocks above the road. A middle-aged figure with slicked back hair, wearing a pair of expensive St Andre sunglasses emerged from behind the three men with machine guns.

He flashed a mouthful of brilliant white teeth. “Senor Baz? At last we meet.”

The driver nodded. “And you might be?”

“Someone who has an interest in the integrity of the Spanish banking system. What you are proposing to do would not be good for Spanish national pride. We would prefer if you and your friends did not cross the border.”

“Or else?”

“Or else we may have to take matters into our own hands.” At that moment there was a deep rumbling sound of metal on tarmac and from around the other side of the bend and a large excavator appeared. “Permit me to demonstrate.”

The excavator started heading straight for the Bentley. The driver only just had time to get out before the car was shoved through the crash barrier, over the edge of the road and down into the deep ravine.

The Spaniard smiled. “Ah now you have a nice walk home in the sunshine.” He pointed down the north down the highway. “I think it is only 1200 kilometres – no more.”

As quickly as they had appeared, the Spaniard and his men vanished into the landscape. Their victim turned and started to trudge down the highway, the hot sun burning into the back of his neck. After 500 metres or so, he spotted a powerful-looking, convertible silver Porsche parked up in a layby. In the driver’s seat was a young woman in a headscarf and dark glasses. He took off his own sunglasses and strolled over to Porsche. “Hello Stephanie.”

Stephanie looked up from her copy of French Vogue and flashed a smile. “Ah Vickery. So they bought it then?”
Last edited by Oxford Glaws on 16 May 2018 15:03 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Fumblings - Season Finale

Oxford Glaws 16 May 2018 14:50 pm said..

Vickery climbed into the passenger seat and checked his watch. “The KSM Fun-bus should be through anytime soon.” At that very moment they heard a loud crunching of gears as a large vehicle made its way up the mountain pass. Over the roaring of the engine they could hear a familiar refrain. “We’re all going on a Summer Holiday…”

Vickery nodded to Stephanie. “Bang on time!”

* * *

Baz watched from behind the wheel of his white Mini as Stephanie, crossed the square in front of the bank. The lone security guard standing at the bottom of the front steps eyed her as she sashayed her way down the street towards him in her impossibly tight mini-dress. As she reached the bottom of the steps, she appeared to momentarily lose her footing and stumbled. Fortunately, the guard was alert enough to catch her. She threw her arms around guard’s neck pressing herself close to him. After a few moments, breathing in her heady Locko-tui perfume, he asked solicitously if she was okay. Stephanie nodded and tried to put the weight back on her left foot, but immediately cried out in pain. She pointed to a hotel a couple of hundred metres down the street, indicating that was where she was staying. The guard put her arm around his shoulder and helped her to limp towards the hotel.

Baz picked up his phone and looked at the browser. He shook his head. Shedweb was as quiet as a Harlequins-supporting mouse tonight. This was not going to work. He pressed speed-dial. In the stadium Vickery picked up his phone. Vickery could hear the strain in Baz’s voice. “You need to take action. Now!”

Vickery pulled his ref-mic from his inside pocket, the one that Johnny had prepared specially. Down on the pitch Hohneck had just made a stunning offload to Ludlow - it was going to be the try of the season, no doubt about it. Vickery pressed a button on the side of the mic and in a very dubious French accent said calmly, “Forward pass!” Garces duly put his whistle to his lips and blew. Anscombe gave up the chase and the ref indicated a scrum down. There was a collective groan, followed by angry shouts from the Glaws supporters.

Back in the town square, Baz looked to the heavens and closed his eyes. “Forgive me Father.” He then looked down at his phone. Just as he had hoped, Shedweb was starting to go into meltdown. Suddenly, all the traffic lights in the square turned red and the little blue light on the electronic lock by the bank entrance stopped blinking. Johnny had done his job.
Last edited by Oxford Glaws on 16 May 2018 15:05 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Re: Fumblings - Season Finale

Oxford Glaws 16 May 2018 14:55 pm said..

Baz picked up the walkie-talkie from the seat next to him and shouted “Go…. Go…. Go!”

From their parking spots in a dark corner in the square the three little minis, tyres screeching, raced to an alleyway behind the bank. Baz got out as the two other minis pulled up behind him. Camilla and OG, wearing their smart cherry and white overalls with jumped out and removed their racing helmets. Baz pulled open the door to the staff entrance and they were in.

Twenty minutes later the three little minis were screaming through the streets of Bilbao, every traffic light on their route turned green as they headed for the main storm drain that led to the coast. They flicked their headlights on and entered the cavernous tunnel, rolling up and down the sides of the walls as they struggled to keep their vehicles level.

Once they emerged at the waterfront, they saw the KSM bus waiting for them. Baz took the remote from his pocket, pressed the button and watched as the rear of the bus lifted up. Out of the coach stumbled Tufty, Number 8, LambPie and Rhino – four of the hardest and strongest men west of Cirencester. Scooping up gold bars from the rear of the minis as if they were Lego bricks, they piled them in the back of the bus.

Baz, Camilla and OG released the brakes and pushed their minis to the edge of the waterside and into the sea below. They high-fived each other and followed the others back onto the bus. As they headed down the autoroute towards the Pyrenees, Baz ripped open a case of Perrier Jouet Belle Epoque and started to pass the bottles round. A few kilometres and several glasses of champagne further on, they were overtaken by Stephanie in her Porsche, waving and hooting her horn in celebration as she sped past. In reply, the group started singing at the tops of their voices, “We are the self-medication society...”

In a small dark passageway at the side of a hotel in Bilbao a tipsy Leinster fan stumbled over the security guard, naked, bound by cable-ties to a drain-pipe with a cherry and white scarf tied over his mouth. “Jeez, typical Gloucester supporters. Ye never could take yer Guinness!”
Last edited by Oxford Glaws on 16 May 2018 16:06 pm, edited 4 times in total.
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Re: Fumblings - Season Finale

Oxford Glaws 16 May 2018 14:57 pm said..

In his office high above Kingsholm, Martin St Quentin was sitting behind his vast gilded Louis XIV desk. He opened a drawer and pulled out a shiny gold ingot and, with a smile, handed it to his visitor. “There you are Danny. Welcome to Kingsholm. Here is your signing-on bonus. Keep it just between us though.”

The player glanced nervously towards Baz who was sitting in the corner of the room. St Quentin reassured him. “Don’t worry about Baz, he can keep a confidence. You won’t be reading about any of this on Shedweb.”

The player glanced at the strong-room door behind St Quentin’s desk. “Thanks very much. I hope we’ll be putting a bit of silverware in there by the season.”

St Quentin gave an embarrassed laugh, “We might need to make a bit of room first.”

As Danny left the office, St Quentin turned to Baz. “Look I don’t know how we can thank you.”

Baz looked serious for a moment. “There is one thing…”

St Quentin spread his arms wide. “Anything”

“Could I have a square of the old turf before it’s torn up. I’d like to put it in the south lawn by my statue?

…..

As The Mute stepped along the gantry and down the iron steps, the rest of the prisoners started banging their steel mugs against the railings “Rat-tat… rat-tat… rat-at-tat..ratatatatatat GLOUCESTER!” The Mute, waved to his audience and then put a finger to the corner of his eye and gently wiped away a tear.

***

With the groundsman having a crafty smoke by the Shed, Baz carefully lifted a small square of the hallowed turf on the centre circle. Then, while the groundsman was looking the other way, he carefully excavated another twelve inches of soil. Retrieving a small velvet bag from inside his jacket, he tipped the small golden jewel into the palm of his hand and placed it carefully at the bottom of the hole. He replaced the loose soil, stood up and gazed across to the Lion’s Den. Quietly, he started singing to himself. It was the chorus from his favourite Sam Cooke song, “It's been a long, a long time coming, But I know a change gon' come, oh yes it will."
Last edited by Oxford Glaws on 16 May 2018 16:10 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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Re: Fumblings - Season Finale

Oxford Glaws 16 May 2018 14:57 pm said..

Have a brilliant summer everyone.
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Re: Fumblings - Season Finale

ShedOrDead 16 May 2018 15:02 pm said..

And you OG.

These have been a real pleasure to read this season and I hope next season offers more than enough inspiration to give us a Season 2 of Fumblings.

“It's been a long, a long time coming, But I know a change gon' come, oh yes it will." :D
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Re: Fumblings - Season Finale

glawfindel 16 May 2018 15:11 pm said..

Nice job, OG, nice job
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