Get Smart 6 - And Loving It! (6 page)

“It isn’t that,” 99 said. “The passengers are littering my decks with gum wrappers and paper cups.”

“How, exactly, do you expect to get us into the well?” Max asked Lucky Bucky. “Remember, you gave us your word as the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court that you wouldn’t shove us from behind.”

“You can shove me from behind,” 99 said to Lucky Bucky. “It will serve those litter-bugs right.”

Lucky Bucky pointed to a large bucket that was suspended over the well. “See the bucket?”

“Yes, I see the bucket,” Max replied.

Lucky Bucky pointed to a crank at the side of the well. “See the crank?”

“Yessss . . . I see the crank.”

“You’ll be in the bucket,” Lucky Bucky explained. “When the crank is turned, down will go the bucket. Understand?”

Max looked closely at the bucket, then at the crank. “It won’t work,” he answered.

“Why not?”

“I won’t be able to reach that crank from the bucket. It’s too far.”

“You think I’d make you turn your own crank?” Lucky Bucky said, hurt. “What kind of a host would I be?” He indicated one of the guards. “He’ll turn the crank.”

“In that case, maybe it’ll work,” Max said.

“Into the bucket,” Lucky Bucky commanded.

“And . . . suppose we refuse?” Max said defiantly.

Lucky Bucky pulled a gun and pointed it at him. “If you refuse, we’ll just have to skip the bucket bit and get straight to the killing.”

Max smiled cunningly. “Well, Lucky Bucky Buckley, you’ve finally showed your hand, eh? You
really
mean to murder us. This is what I’ve been waiting for—the moment when you’d declare yourself.”

“Pardon?”

“Do you actually believe that two highly-trained secret agents would be stupid enough to come to this island alone? We’ve just been playing along, waiting for you to make that one fatal mistake that every criminal finally makes. And you, Lucky Bucky Buckley, have made it. You’ve threatened us with murder. That’s against the law, you know. Now, we have something on you!”

“Will you get to the point?” Lucky Bucky said. “The crocodiles haven’t been fed in a week.”

“The point is that this castle is completely surrounded.”

“With what?”

“With hundreds of Control agents.”

“How did they get here?”

“How did they get here? Well, ah, they dropped by parachute.”

“I have guards in the towers. The guards would have seen them.”

“Oh. Well, then, would you believe that they were landed by submarine?”

“The beach is too shallow. A submarine couldn’t get within a mile of this island.”

“Ummmm . . . well, then, would you believe that they were born and raised here?”

“The only thing that was born and raised on this island that’s still here is a bunch of coconut trees.”

“I suppose you’ve never heard of a bunch of secret agents disguising themselves.”

“Into the bucket!” Lucky Bucky ordered; “or I’ll disguise you as a secret agent full of bullet holes!”

Resigned, Max climbed up on the edge of the well, then stepped into the bucket.

“You next!” Lucky Bucky said to 99.

“Gurgch, gurgch, gurgch,” 99 said.

“What’s that?” Lucky Bucky asked curiously.

“She’s pumping out her bilges,” Max explained. “It’s a thing a ferry boat always does before it climbs into a bucket.”

99 emitted a final gurgch, then got in beside Max.

Lucky Bucky addressed the guard he had picked to handle the crank. “Get a good hold,” he said. “And, whatever you do, don’t let the bucket drop into the well.”

The guard gripped the crank.

“Did I hear that correctly?” Max said. “Did you tell the guard
not
to drop the bucket into the well?”

“My exact words, more or less,” Lucky Bucky answered.

“You haven’t been a murderer very long, have you?” Max said. “You don’t seem to have the hang of it yet. You see, we won’t die unless the bucket drops into the well. That’s the point of having those crocodiles and that boiling oil at the bottom of the well.”

Lucky Bucky spoke to Guru Optimo. “Show ’em how it works,” he commanded.

Guru Optimo raised a hand. There was a flash of light.

The guard began giggling and squirming. And every time he squirmed he loosened his hold on the crank and the bucket dropped an inch or two closer to the boiling oil and crocodiles.

“Oh, yes, I see how it’s done,” Max said interestedly. “Guru Optimo zopped the guard into thinking he’s being tickled. And, in time, he’ll lose his grip on the crank and the bucket will fall into the well. Very clever. I apologize for calling you an amateur murderer. You’re a real pro.”

“You’re not a bad victim, either,” Lucky Bucky replied, returning the compliment. “You die real good. What I don’t like is them first-timers—all that yelling and screaming. You must have had a lot of experience at getting murdered.”

“No, I guess I just take to it naturally,” Max said.

“Well, have a nice die,” Lucky Bucky said. “It’s getting late. Guru Baby and I won’t wait up for the end. I like him to get a lot of sleep. He’s in training.”

“Good luck with the tap dancing,” Max called as Lucky Bucky and Guru Optimo and the other guards departed.

The bucket jerked, and dropped a few inches closer to the boiling oil and crocodiles.

“I knew that someday I’d kick the bucket,” Max said to 99, “but I had no idea that I’d be in it when I kicked it.”

“You’re sitting on my rudder,” 99 said.

“I’m sorry, 99. But it’s a little crowded in this bucket. Can’t you tuck your rudder under your horn pipe or something? And, besides, the Staten Island Ferry can’t talk. So be quiet for a moment, please, and let me try to think of a way out of this mess.”

The bucket dropped again.

Max spoke to the guard. “You know, if you put your mind to it, you could get over being ticklish.”

The guard ignored him. Suffering a spasm of giggling he loosened his hold on the crank, dropping the bucket almost a foot closer to the oil and crocodiles.

“Evidently this is the last chapter in our lives, 99,” Max said. “There’s no way out. I guess I better telephone the Chief and say our final goodbyes.”

“Ask him if he knows what to do for empty bilges,” 99 said.

“Yes, all right, I’ll do that.”

Max wriggled around in the bucket until he was able to reach his shoe phone and remove it. Then he dialed.

Operator:
Could you call back later, Maxie? I’m doing my nails.

Max:
Operator, I’m afraid I’m not very sympathetic. It just so happens that at this instant I am sitting in a bucket with the Staten Island Ferry and we are being slowly lowered into a well that is filled with boiling oil and swimming with man-eating crocodiles.

Operator:
So what help will it be if I ruin my nails?

Max:
Get me your Supervisor!

Operator:
Oh, all right, I’ll take your call. Whom is it you wish to speak to?

Max:
Who, Operator.

Operator:
Who has an unlisted number.

Max:
I don’t know—who does have an unlisted number?

Operator:
What do you mean, you don’t know? You just said yourself that he has an unlisted number.

Max:
Who?

Operator:
Right. So you can’t call him unless you know the number.

Max:
I can’t call who?

Operator:
That’s what
I
said.

Max:
Operator, let’s start again. Pretend that I just picked up my phone and that you just answered. Okay? Now, connect me with the Chief, please.

Operator:
Don’t you want to talk to Who any more, Maxie? You two have a falling out?

Max:
It’s too personal—I don’t want to talk about it. Just connect me with the Chief.

(Buzzing)

Chief:
Control . . . Chief here.

Max:
It’s me, Chief. I just—

Chief:
Could you call back later, Max?

Max:
Chief! Are you doing your nails too!

Chief:
No, Max, I’m not doing my nails. I’m in a very important meeting.

Max:
Oh. Sorry, Chief. But this won’t take but a minute. I just wanted to say goodbye. You see—

Chief:
Max? You called me to say goodbye?

Max:
Yes. You see—

Chief:
Nevermind the explanation, Max. If that’s all you want—goodbye.

(a click as the Chief hung up)

Max:
Chief! No! Wait!

Operator:
I’m sorry, sir, but your party does not choose to speak with you.

Max:
Operator, that is not for the telephone company to decide! Get me back my number!

Operator:
Maxie, have a little pride. The Chief doesn’t want to talk to you. It’s over. Forget it. Make a new life for yourself. Find a new interest. Make new friends. Take dancing lessons. Learn to play the saxophone. Ten years from now, you won’t even remember who the Chief is.

Max:
Operator, get me back my number!

Operator:
What number is that, Max?

Max:
The Chief’s number!

Operator:
You still remember him, eh? The dancing lessons didn’t help?

Max:
Supervisor!

(click)

Chief:
Control . . . Chief here.

Max:
Chief, you didn’t let me finish. When I said I wanted to say goodbye, I didn’t mean goodbye for now, I meant goodbye forever. Chief, the fact of the matter is, that mission you sent us on isn’t working out exactly as planned. Instead of us recapturing Guru Optimo, Lucky Bucky Buckley has captured us—that is, two thirds of us, anyway. We haven’t seen V. T. Brattleboro since we landed on the island. But 99 and I are in a bucket that is suspended over a well, and the well is filled with crocodiles and boiling oil, and our bucket is dropping!

Chief:
Then I think you made a very wise decision, Max.

Max:
Decision? What decision?

Chief:
To call and say goodbye forever.

Operator:
You should have heard that story the first time he told it, Chiefy. He had the Staten Island Ferry in it.

Max:
Stay out of this, Operator. Chief, what she means is that Guru Optimo hypnotized 99 into thinking that she’s the Staten Island Ferry. Incidentally, Chief, what do you do for empty bilges?

Chief:
Max, offhand, I’d say that that’s not your main problem. You better worry about getting out of that bucket. Can’t you jump out?

Max:
There’s a guard here, Chief.

Chief:
Maybe V. T. Brattleboro will show up in the nick of time and save you.

Max:
Chief, the first thing he did when we landed on the island was try to kill us.

Chief:
Well, I just don’t have any other suggestions, Max. But don’t give up. Keep thinking. Maybe you’ll work it out. If you do, give me a call and tell me how you did it. If you don’t . . . well, don’t bother to call.

Max:
Thank you for those encouraging words, Chief.

Chief:
And say goodbye forever to 99 for me.

Max:
Actually, Chief, 99 may come out of this all right. I’m hoping that when we hit the oil she’ll float.

Operator:
Tell her if she does to contact Ed Sullivan the minute she gets out of the well. He’d be crazy to introduce her from the audience.

Max:
I’ll tell her. Goodbye, Chief. Goodbye, Operator.

Chief:
I won’t say goodbye, Max. I’m sure you’ll think of some way to escape.

Operator:
I’ll say goodbye, Max. I don’t think you could think your way out of a paper bag.

Max:
Supervisor!

(click)

Max looked over the side of the bucket into the well. “I thought it was getting a little warm in this bucket,” he said. “We’re only about three yards from the hot breaths of those alligators.”

“Crocodiles,” 99 corrected.

“99, if I want to know the difference between a crocodile and an alligator, I’ll go to a better authority than the Staten Island Ferry.”

The bucket dropped another few inches.

“It won’t be long now, 99,” Max said grimly, looking down into the boiling oil again. “If you have any last words, now’s the time to speak up.”

“Tooooot! Tooooot!” 99 whistled.

“Nicely put,” Max nodded.

T
HE BUCKET
dropped to below the top rim of the well. Max stood up and looked at the guard speculatively. “I wonder . . .” he murmured. “99, if he was hypnotized by a flash of light, why couldn’t he be unhypnotized by a flash of light?”

“Don’t talk to me while I’m docking,” 99 replied. “Docking is a very tricky business.”

“If I had a flash of light, maybe I could flash it in his eyes and break the spell,” Max said. “But where would I get a flash of light?”

“Will you hold still while I’m docking, please,” 99 complained. “You’re rocking the boat.”

“Sorry, 99. I was shifting around because of that beam of moonlight that’s shining in the dungeon window and hitting me in the eyes.”

“You made me bump the pier.”

“I said I’m sorry.”

“All right. But will you please step out of the way?”

“Pardon?”

“My passengers want to get off.”

“Oh.”

Max moved. The beam of moonlight hit him in the eyes again. “If I could just figure out how to create a flash of light,” he muttered. “But I can’t think with that light in my eyes.”

“Will you move again, please. My Staten Island passengers want to board.”

“Yes . . . all right . . . Say, would you ask them if they have any idea how I could— The moonlight! Why can’t I use that!” He opened 99’s purse and got her hand mirror from it. Then, holding it up, he caught the reflection of moonlight in it and flashed it against the wall of the dungeon. “Perfect! Now, if I can just flash the light in the guard’s eyes!”

“Will you fasten your seat belt, please,” 99 said. “I’m about to embark.”

“That’s an airliner, 99, not a ferry boat.”

Max flashed the light at the guard, trying to shine it in his eyes. But the guard was squirming too vigorously.