Chatterbox: Inkwell

CB Solo Write

So, one day, I just thought I might have fun writing a random CB story. I was right. I am having so much fun writing this, I thought I might post it on here. I wil start with Act one: Scene One. If you aren't immeadiately included in my story, theres a reason for that. I'm introducing characters in the orer that I met them on the CB. If not everyone is in my story, I'm sorry, but I tried my best. Anyway:

Chapter One: In Which Our Hero Acquires a Strange Device

Who am I? Are you sure you want to know? The story of my life is not one for the faint of heart. If someone said it was a happy little tale, if somebody said I was just an average guy, not a care in the world… somebody lied. But like any other story, mine starts out at home.

    My mother was a dimension-hopping time-lord. My father was the general of the army of the Breakfast Kingdom. That left me with some pretty unusual skills. I can hop dimensions, regenerate, and I had the training of my father and his father before him and his father before him, and back, and back, and back. I was a mishmash of strange abilities.

My adventure started at age 11, year 2487. I was an an old stone bridge in the woods by my house, my feet dangling off the side. I was sitting with Jamie, a black-haired boy who has been my friend as far as I can remember. We were in the middle of a fierce debate, and I was about to push Jamie into the water.

    “I tell you,” he said, “Mjolnir can summon thunder! Sting was only used to spread butter on Lembas Bread!”

    “Ah, but does Mjolnir glow when your enemies are close by? No. It does not.” I pointed out.

    “Thor doesn’t need to know where his enemies are because Mjolnir can blow up mountains! MOUNTAINS!”

    “Tell me, Jamie, have you ever heard of the words collateral damage?”

“Good point. Mjolnir is still WAY cooler, than your stupid halfling butter knife.”

I was growing irritated. “Will you ever give up?” I asked.

“Nope! Mjolnir is cooler than Sting, and nothing you say will convince me otherwise.” Jamie said, grinning.

I sighed. Jamie’s determined, I’ll give him that, but sometimes he’s kind of annoying.  

    “Where’s Very, anyway?” I asked, looking around, “He was supposed to be here.”

    “He’s busy with violin class, but he’ll be here soon,” Jamie answered.

Very Bad was Jamie’s older brother, and had recently joined our little group. He had been a great supplier of ideas, and he had a strange affiliation for music. Despite his name, he was a pretty nice guy, and mature for his years. He had promised to meet us at the old stone bridge, but it looked like he had other plans for the time being.

“Shall we head off to the bunker?” Jamie asked. I pondered for a couple seconds.

“Will Very know where we are?” I asked.

“He’ll figure it out. He’s pretty smart.” Jamie said.

“Let’s go then!” I said, and jumped down from the bridge onto the shore. Jamie followed, and soon we came to a tunnel in the ground. We both knew the way, so navigating through the various trick passages and getting to the trapdoor was easy. When we arrived, Jamie looked up at the ceiling, skeptical.

“Through the Floor Door?” asked Jamie.

“I thought it would be fun to try out,” I replied.

“That’s OK. I don’t have a problem with it.”

I opened the trapdoor, climbed in, and helped Jamie up. The bunker was a large underground building that we found one day, and refurbished (with the help of my parents) to act as a kind of secret base. It had a lab where we conducted tests on my powers, a comfortable living room, three bedrooms, a bathroom (obviously), and a couple other rooms that aren’t worth mentioning. We dusted ourselves off, and took a look around the lab. Nothing was out of the ordinary at first glance. But then I noticed the police box in the corner.