The Double Cult Cha-Cha: An Al Squires of the Protectorate Story (Book 1)

Ch. 2.1: Into the No-Warehouse; or, The Genuine Article Oracle

"Ey, not to sound like mook or nothin'," Don V. said to Kizven as we followed 'him' and his goons towards the entrance of the No-Warehouse, "but how come yer boys 'ere are silentio while youse are doing the talkin'?"

"I am afraid that my colleague's translators are broken," Kizven said as 'he' gestured to them, "they can understand what you are saying, but they cannot speak without you being able to understand them. I thought it best to let me do all the talking. Speaking of companions, you have an interesting entourage, Don Vecchione. I knew you never travel without one, but a Thrope, a Magick-User, and an Infernal aren't exactly what one would expect someone like you would employ."

"What are youse talkin' about?" Don V. said. "I happen to be an equal opportunity employer. Did I say that right?" he said to Rozz. Rozz nodded. "'Sides, I don't just let anyone ride my coattails unless they're benefiting me and my business. Take Rozzorich 'ere. He's my lawyer, as you might've guessed. I got him and three others from the House of Mephistopheles on retainer, but he's the best out of all of 'em. I tell youse, there ain't no one better that knows about deals, loopholes, and how to work the system in your favor than Demon. Hell, a Demon lawyer is more savage than a Heeb one."

WHOA!!! Out of bounds. Sorry if the boss offended anyone reading this. Remember, his Earth is still mostly stuck in the 1940's, so no civil rights and no political correctness. Trust me, that's not even the worst thing he's ever said... that month; It's not even in the top five. So, please, before you hate-quit this book, please remember that this is my story, and not his. Also, if you read anything offensive that Don V. or any other character says or does, doesn't reflect the writer of this book whatsoever. Now that that little PSA moment is over, back to the story. Again.

"Can we please get to the entrance already?" Rozz asked, impatiently.

"Yeah," I said, also impatiently, "enough of exposition. Let's get on with the plot."

Kizven turned to me, gave me a look that might've been confusion, and then turned to Don V., and said, "I do not understand. What does your Magick-User mean?" Don V. shrugged.

"Youse know how all Magick-Users are a little..." he said in a stage whisper and drew a circle around the air near his temple with his finger: the Multiversal symbol for being nuts. I couldn't tell Kizven, and the other ETs were hip enough to get it or not.

"However, my boys do have a point," he continued. "It feels as if we've been walkin' down this alley longer than we should've."

"That is very astute of you, Don Vecchione," said Kizven. "That is because we installed a psychic perspective filter near the entrance. Nothing invasive; it just makes those who have not been inside our No-Warehouse feel like they are getting farther and farther away from the entrance, but in reality, they are not. It is good for keeping unwelcomed interlopers and unfortunate civilians out; they get dissuaded not to continue onward."

"Neat little trick," Don V. said approvingly, "I gotta get me one of those. It'll definitely save me some moolah on guard-dogs and clean-up, if youse get my meaning."

"I am not sure that I do," Kizven said, "but that does not matter now. We are here."

'He' gestured with a few of 'his' tentacles to a derelict door in the left-hand wall of the alley, covered by rusty chains and moldy wooden boards. 'He' then turned 'his' body around somewhat to look at us.

"You must excuse me," 'he' continued, "I must turn off my translator in order to say the- what do you call it? - the password."

"Go ahead," Don V. said with a nod.

Kizven reached for the device around his beak, turned it off- which was indicated by the lights in it turned off like the ones belonging to his cronies- and turned to face the door. That 'password' was more like a 'pass paragraph.' It felt as if 'he' was screeching, wailing, clicking, and wheezing for two (subjective) minutes.

When 'he' finally finished, the door began to shimmer at first, then it started to warp and swirl into lights and blurs until it turned into a big wormhole with what looked like part of a massive room with a myriad of things on metal shelves on the other side.

Kizven turned to face us- I expect that 'he' does that a lot, considering that 'his' peripheral vision is limited, and 'he' doesn't have a neck- turning 'his' translator back on as he did. "Shall we?" was all that 'he' said before 'he' and his cronies went through the wormhole one by one.

"We all remember the plan, right?" Don V. asked in a hushed tone while he turned the left side of his face towards the wormhole, scratching it so the ET's see his lips move.

We all gave a small, almost unnoticeable nod and we went through the wormhole. Clint went first, then Don V., then Rozz, and finally I came bringing up the rear. I dropped a little something while I was in the threshold, then I went inside entirely before the wormhole almost closed itself on my rear. You like that? I just thought of that. OR DID I?!