Almonds are Forever
Created | Updated Jul 28, 2003
Millford Productions present A Mike Mills Adventure:
Almonds Are Forever
Episode 1
When the black van crashed into the back of the Mills-Mobile for the third time, Sir Mike realised that it was more than just bad driving. He swerved once more, partly because he felt it was time to do something like that, and partly because Steven was spilling pot noodle on him.
"I still can't believe we had time to stop off for a pot noodle in the middle of a car chase," Mike sighed.
"Me neither," Steven admitted, "great, isn't it?"
Mike didn't answer. The black van crashed into the back of them once again, and he was thrown against the steering wheel. The Mills-Mobile span in a vaguely similie defying way, and drove up onto the verge, narrowly missing a rare orchid that had just developed intelliegence, and was currently working out an idea for a novel, which it had given the provisional title "In Search of Existance".
Mike struggled groggily, squinting out under a veil of blood, windscreen washer bottle liquid, and pot noodle. How had his day ended up like this? If someone had told him that morning, that just ten hours later he would have driven the Mills-Mobile off the road, and would be lying there with pot noodle on his face, he would have made sure than any sharp objects were well away from them, and probably mocked them a bit. He thought back to that morning, partly because it was a good litterary technique, and partly because there wasn't much else to do...
***
Morning
Mike moved the chess piece slowly and thoughtfully. The move, he calculated, would get him mate in five moves. Seven if he was unlucky.
Steven looked dubiously at the board. He slowly moved a pawn. "Community Chest," he said slowly, and picked up a card, "it's your birthday." he read. "I'm sure they used to say more than that, anyway, I passed 'go' too, so that's £500."
"Steve, we're playing chess, here," Mike pointed out.
Steven blushed, "good point, I've got egg on my face now, haven't I?" He sighed. "I wish it was a pot noodle I had on my face. I haven't had one of them for ages."
It was around about this point, that Matt rushed into the room, muttering something about space ships, and the Stainless Steel Rat. Mike didn't bother to listen to him. To be honest, it was any excuse to get away from the game of Chessopoly he was playing with Steven.
"Quick," he said, "to the Mills-Mobile!"
Matt nodded, and the three of them made a rush for the door. Matt paused. "But it's raining," he sighed.
Steven narrowed his eyes. "A thought," he said slowly, "has just occured to something. I believe we're all those little pieces that can only move forward one space, but take sideways... except on their first move when they can move two spaces if they want."
"Pawns," Mike put in.
"Yes, I believe we're all pawns, in one vast game of cards!" Steven said. Matt squinted at him.
"Why?" he asked.
"Don't you see? It's raining, and what letter does rain begin with?"
Mike gave a groan. "R,"
"Exactly," Steven said, as if that explained everything. There was a pause, until Mike said 'and' in a way that suggested he wanted Steven to continue.
"Well, I thought it was obvious. Rat begins with R too. Only one person can be behind this weather... The Stainless Steel Rut... Rat!"
Matt scratched at his ear. "Personally, I think this post should have ended way back there when Mike said 'to the Mills-Mobile'."
"Let's just pretend it did..." Mike said.
Five minutes later the Mills-Mobile was sitting in a traffic jam. Sir Mike hit the horn enigmatically.
"Come on, get a move on, we've got a plot to figure out!" he sighed and leaned back in his seat, "So, what have we learnt some far?" he asked Steven.
"The Stainless Steel Rat is up to something and it's possibly got something to do with the rain"
"And I have an allergy to certain seafood" added Matt, who had broken out in a nasty rash, "Which is odd as I haven't eaten any seafood recently, certain or otherwise"
Sir Mike's eyes narrowed, "There's something fishy going on around here"
"That is kind of the point of seafood" Matt pointed out,
"Shut up about your stupid allergies!" the kight snapped,
"But if I don't get to hospital soon then I could die"
"Oh very well" Sir Mike sighed and punched the button that switched the Mills-Mobile to areoplane
* * * * *
Doctor Dokter, who had received an entire career of bad jokes, had just finished bandaging up a Burns victim (damn the Scottish) when the crash came. Well actually, to call it a crash was slightly inaccurate, a craaaaacroooommff! followed by an eeeeeeeekkkcuchunk! would have been nearer the mark (though the chap hit was actually called Steven).
He sprinted down the corridor, leapt over a moving trolley and skidded to a halt at the crash scene. Debris and peices of masonry lay everywhere. A car was wedged through the roof and it seemed that the only thing holding it up were its rather odd wings that were on either side of the hole. As he watched a man in a frock coat and cravat opened the driver's door and dropped out.
"Terribly sorry about that old chap but we have an ill man in the car"
Dokter looked between the man and the car, gawping widely.
"Any chance of some help?" the enigmatic man asked.
“Yes,” said Dr Doktor, there seemed very little else he could say, and also he was having a bet with a nurse that he could say yes 1400 times in one day, and so far he was slightly behind schedule.
“Yes, yes, yes,” he said hurriedly, “yes, of course I could do that, yes, yes, yes,”
Mike looked at him oddly, “okay then,” he said, “my ‘friend’ here has an allergy to sea food, and is thus very sick, even though he hasn’t eaten any sea food for the last 1189 words.”
“Yes, yes, I see,” the doctor said again, “bring him this way, and yes, we’ll do something with some very expensive equipment.” He paused, and then added, “yes, yes, yes,” for good measure.
As he said this, outside a black van pulled up… (It is now Millford Productions policy to spell out the obvious, to avoid people thinking to hard (they might start pointing out plot holes) – note to people who don’t see the significance of the black van: go back and read the first sentence again!)
Episode 2
As he said this, outside a black van pulled up…
"Oh look, a black van" Steven noted as he dropped from the passenger's seat of the suspended Mills-Mobile, "How trivial and insignificant" he turned to Sir Mike and Dr Dokter, "Do you want me to get Matt form the car?"
The knight made to answer but Dokter got there first, "Yes" The nurse he had made the bet with sneered at him as she passed. Steven crossed to stand beneath the Mills-Mobile, grabbed a mop from against the wall and jabbed the undercarriage with it.
"Come on Matt, we're all waiting to treat you!"
In answer Matt gurgled and fell from the car, landing neatly on a spare stretcher. Outside the black van pulled away as the traffic lights turned to green.
Almonds Are Forever
Episode 1
When the black van crashed into the back of the Mills-Mobile for the third time, Sir Mike realised that it was more than just bad driving. He swerved once more, partly because he felt it was time to do something like that, and partly because Steven was spilling pot noodle on him.
"I still can't believe we had time to stop off for a pot noodle in the middle of a car chase," Mike sighed.
"Me neither," Steven admitted, "great, isn't it?"
Mike didn't answer. The black van crashed into the back of them once again, and he was thrown against the steering wheel. The Mills-Mobile span in a vaguely similie defying way, and drove up onto the verge, narrowly missing a rare orchid that had just developed intelliegence, and was currently working out an idea for a novel, which it had given the provisional title "In Search of Existance".
Mike struggled groggily, squinting out under a veil of blood, windscreen washer bottle liquid, and pot noodle. How had his day ended up like this? If someone had told him that morning, that just ten hours later he would have driven the Mills-Mobile off the road, and would be lying there with pot noodle on his face, he would have made sure than any sharp objects were well away from them, and probably mocked them a bit. He thought back to that morning, partly because it was a good litterary technique, and partly because there wasn't much else to do...
***
Morning
Mike moved the chess piece slowly and thoughtfully. The move, he calculated, would get him mate in five moves. Seven if he was unlucky.
Steven looked dubiously at the board. He slowly moved a pawn. "Community Chest," he said slowly, and picked up a card, "it's your birthday." he read. "I'm sure they used to say more than that, anyway, I passed 'go' too, so that's £500."
"Steve, we're playing chess, here," Mike pointed out.
Steven blushed, "good point, I've got egg on my face now, haven't I?" He sighed. "I wish it was a pot noodle I had on my face. I haven't had one of them for ages."
It was around about this point, that Matt rushed into the room, muttering something about space ships, and the Stainless Steel Rat. Mike didn't bother to listen to him. To be honest, it was any excuse to get away from the game of Chessopoly he was playing with Steven.
"Quick," he said, "to the Mills-Mobile!"
Matt nodded, and the three of them made a rush for the door. Matt paused. "But it's raining," he sighed.
Steven narrowed his eyes. "A thought," he said slowly, "has just occured to something. I believe we're all those little pieces that can only move forward one space, but take sideways... except on their first move when they can move two spaces if they want."
"Pawns," Mike put in.
"Yes, I believe we're all pawns, in one vast game of cards!" Steven said. Matt squinted at him.
"Why?" he asked.
"Don't you see? It's raining, and what letter does rain begin with?"
Mike gave a groan. "R,"
"Exactly," Steven said, as if that explained everything. There was a pause, until Mike said 'and' in a way that suggested he wanted Steven to continue.
"Well, I thought it was obvious. Rat begins with R too. Only one person can be behind this weather... The Stainless Steel Rut... Rat!"
Matt scratched at his ear. "Personally, I think this post should have ended way back there when Mike said 'to the Mills-Mobile'."
"Let's just pretend it did..." Mike said.
Five minutes later the Mills-Mobile was sitting in a traffic jam. Sir Mike hit the horn enigmatically.
"Come on, get a move on, we've got a plot to figure out!" he sighed and leaned back in his seat, "So, what have we learnt some far?" he asked Steven.
"The Stainless Steel Rat is up to something and it's possibly got something to do with the rain"
"And I have an allergy to certain seafood" added Matt, who had broken out in a nasty rash, "Which is odd as I haven't eaten any seafood recently, certain or otherwise"
Sir Mike's eyes narrowed, "There's something fishy going on around here"
"That is kind of the point of seafood" Matt pointed out,
"Shut up about your stupid allergies!" the kight snapped,
"But if I don't get to hospital soon then I could die"
"Oh very well" Sir Mike sighed and punched the button that switched the Mills-Mobile to areoplane
* * * * *
Doctor Dokter, who had received an entire career of bad jokes, had just finished bandaging up a Burns victim (damn the Scottish) when the crash came. Well actually, to call it a crash was slightly inaccurate, a craaaaacroooommff! followed by an eeeeeeeekkkcuchunk! would have been nearer the mark (though the chap hit was actually called Steven).
He sprinted down the corridor, leapt over a moving trolley and skidded to a halt at the crash scene. Debris and peices of masonry lay everywhere. A car was wedged through the roof and it seemed that the only thing holding it up were its rather odd wings that were on either side of the hole. As he watched a man in a frock coat and cravat opened the driver's door and dropped out.
"Terribly sorry about that old chap but we have an ill man in the car"
Dokter looked between the man and the car, gawping widely.
"Any chance of some help?" the enigmatic man asked.
“Yes,” said Dr Doktor, there seemed very little else he could say, and also he was having a bet with a nurse that he could say yes 1400 times in one day, and so far he was slightly behind schedule.
“Yes, yes, yes,” he said hurriedly, “yes, of course I could do that, yes, yes, yes,”
Mike looked at him oddly, “okay then,” he said, “my ‘friend’ here has an allergy to sea food, and is thus very sick, even though he hasn’t eaten any sea food for the last 1189 words.”
“Yes, yes, I see,” the doctor said again, “bring him this way, and yes, we’ll do something with some very expensive equipment.” He paused, and then added, “yes, yes, yes,” for good measure.
As he said this, outside a black van pulled up… (It is now Millford Productions policy to spell out the obvious, to avoid people thinking to hard (they might start pointing out plot holes) – note to people who don’t see the significance of the black van: go back and read the first sentence again!)
Episode 2
As he said this, outside a black van pulled up…
"Oh look, a black van" Steven noted as he dropped from the passenger's seat of the suspended Mills-Mobile, "How trivial and insignificant" he turned to Sir Mike and Dr Dokter, "Do you want me to get Matt form the car?"
The knight made to answer but Dokter got there first, "Yes" The nurse he had made the bet with sneered at him as she passed. Steven crossed to stand beneath the Mills-Mobile, grabbed a mop from against the wall and jabbed the undercarriage with it.
"Come on Matt, we're all waiting to treat you!"
In answer Matt gurgled and fell from the car, landing neatly on a spare stretcher. Outside the black van pulled away as the traffic lights turned to green.
