Not many links courses in the desert, De’Ath observed, pithily.
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Probably a clubhouse or a bar.
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OOC: actually I do play 
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[Jr. searches the clubhouse]
…* hiccup *
I don’t ssee no mapss in here.
Oy, this looks fun.
[Burton stumbles back outside]
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You sure that didn’t bounce a little?
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That’s one hell of a lie, eh Jane.
Hey, giraffe looking fellas, mind if I play through?
.* hiccup! *
Oh, hell. Who am I kidding, I suck at golf. Must be my cross to bear.
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I’m impressed, Junior. Those are very long drives. In the wrong direction, but still…
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Must be the funny golf balls I found in the bag at the clubhouse.
There’s a tag on the bag, but I cannut reed it.
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Meanwhile, back at the Thunderdome…
The Thunderdome typically drew a large crowd. Generally the regular Thursday-night Pro-Am heat races filled the grandstands to capacity, Ladies’ Night Fridays had standing-room-only in the incredibly dangerous pits directly beneath the curve of the sphere (where a hot shower of sparks, shaved metal, and spurting blood could be expected at least twice in every race, so the classier ladies donned wide-brimmed chapeaux), and the Saturday Night Special Main Event featured box seats suspended within the dome itself, which once resulted in an entire clan of high-powered mutant warlords meeting a bloody drunken end when “Cancerbot” Cassidy’s jet-propelled halftrack drove head-on into Steampunk Stanley’s vacuum-tube-retrofitted Tesla P85D at the apex of the dome and both vehicles plummeted on top of Luxury Box 12-C.
This race would be the biggest ever. The word had spread from forked tongue to cauliflower ear the length and breadth of the Wasteland: Sir Gonville De’Ath, Channing Hunter, and Desmond Balthar would be taking on Bruce Washington, Wez, and the Toecutter! And all at the same time! Every last sentient creature that could drive, run, slither, or flop their way to Lancaster made the trip at flank speed, and every exterior surface inch of the Dome was occupied by however many eyes those creatures possessed to gawk through the metal bars.
A recently retired Thunderdome champion made the introductions.
“Lizards and Gentlebums, welcome to another edition of Fred Fleetwood’s Thunderdome! I’m your host, Hugh Mungous, and I’d just like to ask for a moment of silence to mourn the passing of our dear old friend Fred Fleetwood, the architect of this Thunderdome and, some would say, our world’s ruin.”
Hugh bowed his head. The crowd respectfully murmured:
“All righty then, with very little further ado, may I present our champions. Hailing from Little River, Victoria, Australia, and weighing in at nineteen stone, is the Scourge of the Sands, the Demon-Lord of the Desert, the heir apparent to the Fleetwood MacChanics empire, and a surprisingly talented baker, the Toecutter, driving his lightly modified 1947 Dodge pick-em-up.”
Name Class MHP HP FP AR SP TQ MV EN LK
Toecutter Escort 90 63 80 109 74 43 60 70 49
“From Rosewood Avenue in West Hollywood, local boy Wez brings his can-do attitude and fierce fashion sense to the Dome for his fourteenth record-breaking appearance, behind the wheel of the main ride of our late lamented boss, a mildly reworked 1959 Cadillac Fleetwood or two, with a couple extra options you won’t find on the dealer’s manifest.”
Name Class MHP HP FP AR SP TQ MV EN LK
Wez Mule 100 90 95 120 35 80 30 80 28
“And that’s Bruce from the motor pool in a borrowed Mazda.”
Name Class MHP HP FP AR SP TQ MV EN LK
Bruce Scout 60 60 50 95 98 32 75 60 68
“And now to meet our challengers. From all the way down south in La Jolla, California, driving his Chevy Rat-powered 1969 Iso Grifo, the ninth Baronet of Perranuthnoe… (am I pronouncing that correctly? I am? Oh, good.) …Sir Gonville Death.”
“(What? Sorry, can you repeat…? ‘Day-Ath’? What kinda name is that? Christ, fuckin’ pretentious limey bastard.)”
Name Class MHP HP FP AR SP TQ MV EN LK
Gonville De’Ath Escort 68 68 90 124 104 43 79 61 46
“Our lone four-wheel-drive contestant hails from parts unknown but leaves a trail of tears, destruction, and upended monster trucks in her wake. She’s the Duchess of Demolition and the Vengeful Vixen of Velocity, Channing Hunter in her 1988 Toyota Hilux.”
“Oh, wait… that’s not quite it.”
“That’s a bit more like it, isn’t it? Heh. Heh heh. Heh. Okay, fine. Here it is.”
“(Don’t know why you’re complaining, you’re the only player with an action figure.) And finally, our secret-identity-having, top-security-clearance possessing, spiked-plantain-steaming phantom who’s not actually from Colorado after all, Mister “Desmond Balthar” (or is he?) in his 427 side-oiler Shelby Cobra.”
Name Class MHP HP FP AR SP TQ MV EN LK
Desmond Balthar Scout 39 39 54 107 75 31 61 81 71
"Let’s get ready to ruuummmblllle…!!!"
Couple more loose ends to tie up, then it all comes crashing down tomorrow!
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OK Junior (@funruly)… with those sandworms out there, I think we’re going to have to leave your rig and Clank on the road for a while. My car is speedy enough that I think we can avoid them until we find the entrance to the secret bunker.
I’ll drive, you navigate.
Looks like a good place to start!
Hang on tight, I don’t think my suspension is tuned for driving off-road.
Although… it has been off road:
Well… this looks like the entrance, I guess we don’t need to dig. But we’ve only got a couple minutes before those sandworms catch up:
Man, this place is crazy! Check out that space-ceiling!
Look, Junior… the whole place is rumbling. The sandworms are getting way too close and if they destroy my car, we’ll never make it back alive. I am going to have to leave you here and draw the worms away.
What’s this? Aha!
While you were loading up Clank on your truck, I spoke to Scotty to see if there was anything useful he could tell me for my book. He told me to look for these devices which can be used to draw sandworms away. He was a bit cagey about it but I think maybe he knows more about the origin of these worms than he’d like to admit:
Anyway… he didn’t tell me how the devices work but hopefully I can figure it out.
Meanwhile, find the Genesis instructions, could you? I think they might be on those computers but you’ll have to figure out how to turn them on. Remember, you’re looking for what power setting to use.
Once I draw off the sandworms, I’ll go and make sure Clank and your rig are OK and wait to hear from you.
Did that dog just talk on the TCB link?
Eh… keep an eye on him. I’m off.
Instructions:
1. Download the DosBox Game Launcher here: http://members.quicknet.nl/blankendaalr/dbgl/#download
2. Download the game data found here: https://www.dropbox.com/s/u31ajr2sqpwyaot/tim22.dbgl?dl=0
3. Add the extension “.zip” to the file
4. In the DBGL program, go to “Profiles” and choose “Import…”
5. Choose the tim22.dbgl.zip file, leave all options at default
6. Now, click on the profile and press “Run” - this should start the game.
To get to the puzzle in-game:
1. Sign in as Scotty
2. Click the top-left option, “Puzzle Play”
3. Click “OK” to start the tutorial puzzle
4. Click the button at the top-right of the screen, “control panel”
5. Click the floppy disk button, “load”
6. Click the pile of junk button on the right, “more puzzles”
7. Click the bottom right button, “homemade puzzles”
8. Choose HOME0001: bwd, click load
9. Solve the puzzle for Genesis instructions
We tried this on both Windows and OS X and it should work but let me know if it doesn’t!
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OOC: hoo boy. It might take me a day or so to have the time at a computer where I can install/load that.
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All we know is, she’s called The Stig Channing Hunter.
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What exactly my name is is unimportant. You should be more concerned with how badly I’m going to kick your ass, Chaps McGee.
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Well, well, well, Toecutter made an action figure of me? I am both intensely flattered and creeped out at the same time. Perhaps I’ll even keep it, after we waste those those ridiculous monsters, and uh, is that an na miata?
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I’m pretty sure the Channing Hunter action figure set was quite well received when it came out. Here’s her “Bashing 1947 Pickups” version:
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(( OOC: Ripley is a total badass, but that fight scene was so full of awesome, I have to link it. ))
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Hey Jane (@penguinchris)! If you can find some smelling salts or maybe Scotty’s spare hyperspace TCB amplifier down in that bunker and help carry Clankenstein’s semiconscious body down inside, perhaps @davide405 might be able to take a crack at firing up Scotty’s computers too! No reason a Mechanic of his brilliance shouldn’t be able to solve it, if his consciousness is up to it.
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There is little in that cinematography that isn’t perfect. Those flashing lights, that backlighting, the almost too chaotic camera closeness…
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Beautifully shot, though the sound design has always bugged me. I know, the easy and obvious and tired choice would have been to go over the top with music and booms and bangs instead of the stillness of the hangar, the surgically-precise clicks of the loader’s feet against the deck, the minimalist hydraulic whines, and Ripley’s grunts of effort set against the hisses of the Queen and the Treg-Brown-esque whips of her tail… I know Cameron made his choices for very well-thought-out reasons, but still, the sound design of that scene is like fingernails on a blackboard to me.
In every other sense, though, a perfectly thrilling piece of filmmaking.
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