Prologue of Indiana Jones and the Insidious Fountain of Death

Posted by Goodsport from adsl-216-102-199-185.dsl.snfc21.pacbell.net on June 06, 2000 at 07:48:13:

Prologue

Northern San Francisco, U.S., 1967

    It was a humid night in San Francisco, not usual for the almost-metropolis of culture and love in America.

    A teenager wearing a white button up shirt and tight fitting blue jeans walked towards an average beatnik pub as a trolley car whizzed past, sending a puddle into what was known as a puddle magnet then: a fur coat.

    The teenager shook his head as he walked by the woman in the drenched animal skin and continued into the pub. His dark hair and somewhat dark skin blended in with the smoggy atmosphere. A stench of scum and cigarette smoke filled the air, making the dark teen's nose flare. He made his way past the bar and to the coat rack, picking up a black trench coat and pulling dark glasses onto his hazel eyes.

    He struggled into the coat while walking to a brown spot in the pub's cinderblock wall and raised one of his brown hiking boots.

    A smash was heard as he kicked through the wall. The smoking patrons all turned and stared at the mysterious sixteen-year-old's back. An old man looked over at the boy and walked after him, but the kid ducked into the hole in the wall he just made.

    The old man peered through the hole to see nothing, only blackness. He knew the building was about a hundred years old, or at least the location of the building was, but he didn't know about any brown spot. He lit a match and stuck his hand in, and withdrew it in disgust.

    His hand was full of chalk and lime stone slime water, which he first thought was human bile. It wasn't any secret passage, it was a link directly to the sewer.

    The boy made his way in thigh deep feces water, covering his nose with his trench coat, through the underearth stink hole. He passed six passages and jumped, landing at the tail end of a waterfall.

    The boy fell underwater and began swimming, the smell of the water burning his eyes as he made his way to an underwater passage. A sort of filter straight to the Pacific. He was sucked into the hole in the wall and reached deep into his coat.

    He pulled out a bo into his right hand and put it over his head like a propeller. The bo was caught on the edge of the sewer system decoy path a few seconds later, and with all his strength, the boy pulled himself into the only dry space in the damned catacombs. The black iron bo came after him.

    The bo, a majestic weapon, was perfected by the Chinese for use in Kobojutsu, the art of the sword. It was held in the middle with both hands and angled as to strike an opponent. Some fisherman put large crab-like pincers on either end to finish off a large sea animal. The bo with the boy had, however, only had both sides sharpened to a point like a doubled British fencing sword and was collapsable and able to be locked out. The boy snapped the bo back into a smaller state so that it looked more like a small black cyllander and replaced it into his trench coat. He pulled out a lighter and moved down the dry tunnel haunched over like a sidekick from a Dracula movie.

    When he reached his final destination, he was delighted.

    Abner Ravenwood-Jones, or Shaggy Jones as he preferred to be called, had found the greatest damned anthropological find there was in the 150-year-old city of San Francisco. He let out a howl and ran over to a skeleton with a knife stuck in the rib cage and his hands on the handle to inspect it.

    "Hello, Mr. Corna, greed must've really killed The Cat, eh?" he softly said as he pulled the final map piece from the antique skeleton's last remaining shread of clothes.

    The map lead to the "Golden Mountains of Mexico," or the city of Chicemech. Not the city that Cortes was told about, El Dorado, but another city below the Earth that was showered with gold by the Aztec rain God Tlalocateuctli. The lost city, if it existed, could be the greatest archaeological and anthropological find since Troy. Something like this was like finding the lost continent of Atlantis!

    A gun's hammer clicked behind the boy marveling at the map. His eyes widened and he looked up at the skeleton in it's eye sockets.

    "Ah, young Mr. Jones," an old voice with a British accent said in a ghostly tone, "I see that you and your father found Julius Corna here first."

    Shaggy turned toward the ghostly old man in a black tight shirt and khaki brown pants, the great grey beard flowing from his chin like a river of hair.

    "Yeah, well, you're a lot slower than when I was twelve, Hershey," the boy responded.

    "Ha! I never slow, but you however, will now stop."

    The man raised the gun to point directly at the boy's head, and being less than a meter away, the barrel was almost making an indent on the teenager's skull.

    With lightning fast skill, the boy smacked the gun away from his head so the shot rang through the small false chamber and hit the skull of Julius Corna, making it shatter into dust and spray above Shaggy's head into Hershey's eyes.

    The old man howled with pain and dropped his gun, trying to rub the fragments of bone out of his face. Shaggy took the opportunity to get his bo out and smack the switch to make the blades come out of the cyllander. He didn't need to.

    A chunk of the ceiling chipped off, smacking the bearded old man in the head and bringing a gush of water into the chamber. All due to the bullet he had fired. The old man fell and was swept into raging feces current. With a scream of terror and defeat, he was gone.

    Young Shaggy had another problem to worry about, though: the room was flooding.

    He turned around in the sewer, searching for options and saw a way out.

    The hole in the wall with the skeleton made it so a light could be seen shining into the room. The slush of dirty water was now up to his kneecaps.

    Shaggy squared himself up and pounded the false wall with all his weight, but little happened. He saw the knife in Corna's rib cage and proceeded to draw it out to chip the wall away. But when he turned it, the wall opened up on it's own, revealing a room with a glass ceiling.

    An underground construction site. Still no way out, though, and he couldn't let the workers see him or he'd be arrested. The room filled up with water as he jumped out. He made his way over to a nearby manhole, opened it up and made his way in.

    A worker turned to his partner in the bright orange hard hat and made a face that said, "What did you eat?"

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