The Evilness Of Rolanda

The Cast:

he stroked her Kalashnikov lovingly, knowingly. In a flash Rolanda grabbed the weapon, turned and kneeled sending a clip full of lead into the life size target of Ming Davros. The barrel smoked in the silence as Rolanda studied her handiwork. One day, she thought, then she switched off the video camera after giving the lens a manic grin. One more nail in the coffin of Mings sanity. Rolanda carefully parcelled up the VHS tape and sent it off in the post.

Count Hugo paced up and down the long dining hall, he was deep in thought. The fire burned brightly and cast flickering shadows into the dark room. The Count admired the gleam of his boots and wondered what will Rolandas next move be?

I rang the bell and waited impatiently in the rain. My black hood shrouded my features and kept my head dry. Krugers door hissed open with electronic efficiency and revealed the familiar figure of Kruger himself. Timmy Kruger smiled but was probably guessing my own expression, it was a good feeling that he was guessing. Inside, warm and seated we sipped our favourite beverages. Pushing myself deep into the black leather swivel chair I relaxed. "Have you the blades my monk?", asked Timmy. An almost pointless question. From within the deep folds of my cloak I pulled out a black velvet roll. Grasping an end firmly I threw out the roll onto the table revealing five very special blades. Each one unique, tensioned and sharp. Attachment for Timmys special right hand.

"Arragh, aaaah, blurrgh, haa, haa", Ming Davros cried. He clicked the stop on the remote and leaped out of his chair. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Long years of torture and not once had he managed to track down Rolanda. Mr Kidney wheeled in his personal wheelchair. Ming Davros was sick, his mind attacked on all sides. Gladly he collapsed into the chair and the good Kidney wheeled him out of the room.

The hunched form of the Golly Frog had almost finished his brew. The pipes bubbled and the flasks fermented in the array which even a BP refinery designer would find hard to follow. He Clangered away to himself in his own hooting foreign speech. Grabbing a beaker, marked PINT, he ambled upto a tap on the apparatus and filled it. The clear sample tasted good, hot and real strong. Suddenly the lab door exploded in wooden shrapnel. Golly Frog turned to see Rolanda storming in through the chaos. Then gunfire sprayed the room, ricochet and the sound of smashing glass filled the room. Rolanda approached the bullet holed body of the Golly Frog, probing it with his foot before smiling. "One down ..."

The Count studied the report just in. "Hmm, it seems as if Rolanda has finally come out of the woodwork". With his pale hands he spread the gory photographs evenly over his leather topped oak desk. "So who is next? Kruger and the Mad Monk? Ming Davros and Mr Kidney? Me? Ahhh that loony, why does he do this to us? His old friends?"

Kruger gripped his tartan security blanket in fear. There in front of us I studied the obvious handiwork of Rolanda. Stapled to the front door was an upside down black cat. Its blood had made a small, sad pool on the step. Kruger flexed his bladed hand then gave me a worried look. "Yes, Rolanda wants our blood, but not content in murdering us all he wants our sanity too", I said. "I have my bladed hand now, a good insurance against one so evil.", pointed out Timmy. I thought briefly about this as we entered the electronic fortress and said, "But he has an automatic rifle". Timmy said nothing and clutched his blanket a little more tightly until things seemed much safer.

The grass was green, the sun was bright and high and another bowler came on against him. "Ha at this rate I shall make a century no problem", thought Mr Kidney. He watched the bowler run, he gripped the bat tightly and watched closely. "Rolanda!", the realisation was terrifying. The ball was released and hurtled 22 yards towards him. Throwing the bat aside Mr Kidney made a desperate dodge to the left. The bowl had been a lucky one and the red grenade hit Mr Kidney low down. BOOM!

The door bell rang, then rang again, then it rang constantly until Timmy opened the door. A familiar but sweaty large man stood before him. "Help me Timmy, you've got to help me or we are all doomed.", pleaded Ming Davros. This was only a shadow of the man Kruger had once known. Hurriedly Kruger pulled him inside. "You know we had to split up so that one bomb couldn't destroy us all.", shouted Timmy. "But Mr Kidney is dead!", informed Ming, "And so is the Golly Frog. We shall soon be all dead, and so no more hiding we must attack.", declared the old Emperor. "Attack, attack, ATTACK!"

My small green Gremlin ran along the long dining table then came back to report that nothing threatening lurked at the other end. Count Hugo in his cape and boots rose to greet me, "Its been a long time amigo". "Yes my friend, times have grown darker than ever, we must act.", I replied. "I know, my sources say that two of our kind have perished to that crazed Nazi Rolanda", offered the Count sadly. I raised my head slowly in thought and stared at my friend, "Mings mind has gone and Timmys is about to go over too!". All this time the Gremlin had been swinging on my arm gibbering to herself in Gaelic.

Rolanda sat back and watched the 10 o'clock news and sighed in contentment when the cricket disaster report came on. "Ahh, but why don't they show the nasty bits, ahh what a sight, ahh BOOM!, arrhh", Rolanda wiped the dribble from the corner of her mouth.

Candles burned all around, on different levels from the floor to shelves and chandeliers. The cold stonework reflected little and the whole chamber had an infinite feel about it. Yet I called it home. On the positive side was the fact that there were no neighbours and so you could play music loudly. The mortgage was very reasonable too. All our voices chanted together the dark words from the cheap demonic phrase book as the Gremlin chalked an artistic pentagram onto the slabbed floor.

The twitching would not go, Rolandas arm jerked up involuntarily and he fell to the swastika covered carpet. Reaching desperately for his AK47 Rolanda knew he didn't have long. Another spasm threw her body against the wall, fortunately near to her gun case. She smashed her fist through the glass, blood pumped from the cuts and poured down her arm. She grabbed the pistol grip of her favourite weapon just as she felt every nerve in her body pulled across England.

I looked around the circle of friends, the strain of concentration visible on their faces. The old Emperor, the Count, the Gremlin and Timmy Kruger. The chanting was at its peak when a blue glow appeared at the centre of the chalking. Its shape writhed in pain and Rolanda fell onto my stone floor. "Oh brilliant she has a gun!", I moaned before diving behind the nearby altar. Timmy took his chance and dived at the crumpled form his blades out spread. The AK47 raised, the blades connected with Rolandas head scraping five deep cuts down its side. The barrel flared and the noise of gun fire filled the chamber. Timmys body was thrown high against the wall before collapsing into a heap.

Ming unholstered his revolver and whispered to me, "That fool Kruger is dead". "Look, the Gremlins got her", said the Count. Latched onto Rolandas trigger finger the Gremlin hung by her teeth. Her feet madly kicking. Ming stood and aimed his pistol as another burst of automatic fire cut down a few hundred candles. A single shot rang out from Mings vintage weapon and Rolanda fell back onto the floor. I crawled out of hiding and was relieved to see my Gremlin alive. She was standing on top of the body, her little hands locked in a victory salute above her head.