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The Deep Onion Six (final version)

"The Deep Onion Six"

That was going to be the title of the interactive story I would have written if veedoubleu hadn't outbid me on an auction item while I was forceably absent from the net recently. Had I won, Tiredartist would have added ten chapters to my interactive story...but seeing as I'm no longer upgraded, the interactive story would have been in her port, and in her name, with only the first chapter written by me. Here's what I had in mind for her had I won.
(* cue the manical evil laughter *)





The Deep Onion Six


Don't be fooled by your logic and common sense folks. No matter how unbelievable this tale may get, the following is a true story. I know. I was there.

Corky Thompson, Dill Bruce, myself, (Tireartist, or just Tired as I'm known to my friends), and Stinky Pete, crammed into the metal elevator cage before heading two miles deep underground to dig for magnesium nuggets in the west Texas Deep Onion magnesium mine.

That shift June 16, 2004 was just like any other shift. Stinky Pete was first in the elevator as always so he could make sure he'd get to stand in his favorite, lucky corner. Corky followed with his head buried in his lunchbox, looking to see what his wife Delores had packed for him. I stepped in while reaching into my purse and taking out my compact so I could touch up my make up. Dill was last in, slamming the metal grate elevator door closed and pulling the decend lever to the down position. The rest of this story was anything but routine.

I had barely begun to apply my lip gloss when Stinky Pete started complaining...

"Crap! I wanted this corner to myself!"

I didn't bother turning around as I figured Corky had inadvertenly stepped within Stinky's comfort zone again.

"Get out of my lucky corner Wilbur. Go lay down in another corner. This is my corner."

Overcome by curiosity, I flicked my compact closed and looked behind me. There was Wilbur McPherson, a miner from the graveyard shift, laying on his back in a pool of blood...no doubt from the butcher's knife stuck deep into his chest.

"Come on Wilbur. Move to another corner or I'm gonna hold my breath until you do!" Demanded Stinky.

"Hang on a sec Stinky. I don't like the looks of this. I think Wilbur might be dead. Tired...You check and see." Corky, our crew chief, ordered me.

I knelt down, putting an ear to Wilbur's mouth and then to his chest to listen for a heart beat.

"What the Hell do you think you're doing?" Demanded Corky as I unzipped Wilbur's fly.

"Look!" I exclaimed. "He's only got one testicle!" I keenly observed.

Before anyone could reply the elevator came to a sudden jarring stop. We were all thrown to the floor ontop of Wilbur.

"See! He only has the one." I said to Corky as he lay atop Wilbur's pants. Corky immediately sprang to his feet.

"What happened?" We all asked each other as the rest of us stood up.

"I wonder why we stopped?" Asked Corky.

"I have no idea." Replied Dill. "Is Wilbur dead?" He asked turning to me.

"Of course he's dead you stupid clod." Said a harsh voice from above our heads.

Looking up through the elevator's metal grate ceiling, we noticed Mad Dog Burrows standing on the elevator's cage roof with a crowbar jammed into the elevator's pulley mechanism to prevent us from moving.

"Oh hi." I said flirting with Mad Dog. (I had a bit of a crush on the loveable, local, lunatic.) "I didn't know you had been released."

"I wasn't released. I escaped." Mad Dog snarled at me. "Wilbur's dead...just like all of you soon will be. Ha Ha ha ha ha." He evil, maniacally laughed as he began to open a Jerry can and pour gasoline over all of us below.

"No! Please Stop!" I begged. "I'm allergic to gasoline."

"You'll never get away with this you psycho. I don't think you've got the guts to kill us." Stinky yelled as Mad Dog took a lighter out of his pocket.

"Oh really? Then why did I bring this along?" Sneered Mad Dog as he reached one hand behind his back and pulled out a handgun from under his belt. "And just to prove you can believe my death threats...I also have these..." He said, ripping open his shirt to reveal a vest of dynamite sticks taped to his chest.

"You don't scare me! I think you're bluffing, you miserable, little, wienie." Yelled Stinky.

"Bluffung? Well maybe these will help prove I'm not bluffing." Smirked Mad Dog as he opened a sack of posionous snakes upside down on the elevator's metal grate roof. A shower of deadly serpents slowly dropped onto us from the ceiling above.

Stinky was about to yell something else to Mad Dog but the rest of us quickly grabbed him and clamped our hands over his mouth.

Unbelievable as it may seem, we all escaped unharmed...even Wilbur. So just how did we all manage to escape? And how did Wilbur escape unharmed if he had a butcher's knife stuck deep into his chest? And just why was Mad Dog so mad? And whatever did happen to Wilbur's missing testicle? I'll let Tiredartist take it from here...

1/ Mad Dog thought of everything...Or did he?
Tiredartist skillfully reveals all...and without using the letters "e" or "p" in her entire explanation.

2/ What if Stinky hadn't been so observant and never noticed Wilbur laying in his lucky corner? Would things have been different? Tired takes us down this eerie path.

3/ How did Dill Bruce ever get a name like that? Isn't Bruce a first name? Tiredartist expertly reveals how veedoubleu was behind all of Deep Onion's problems.

4/ I wonder if I'm hungry? Tired skillfully answers this mystery too.




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