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Yo, Part Two of the Epic Bobbehfic! 2768 words of it. There was actually a page of this that was in four different ink colours, it took me that long to write. Still, here it is. How I plan on getting part three up before I go down to Kent I don't know, so be prepared for possible cliffhangers. Anyway, on with the (Halloween) show.
The story so far: Bobbeh1 attempted to help two Ded Girls and had a mishap with the telephone. Next thing you know, the evil Bobbehs are paying them a visit. The evil Bobbeh1 is a grubby whiny spoilt brat, Bobbeh2 is a crack whore trying to secks everyone up, and Bobbeh3... well, we've yet to be introduced formally. But first we begin with our special guest star Bobbeh Lindsay, who's been trying to stay away from the action...
Part One
Night of the Evile Ded: Part Two
Bobbeh Lindsay wasn't exactly having the greatest of nights.
Looking forward to an evening spent with people who weren't called Bobbeh, he had trekked across town for a drink in his un-local, only to be constantly bombarded with text messages from Bobbeh2 asking him to come and see the new Bobbeh De Niro film that he'd already seen five times anyway. Having got caught in the sudden rainstorm, that had appeared from nowhere (Thunder? Lightning? After a calm sunny day? What the...?), he had sat there, drenched to the bone whilst several random strangers continued to tell him that 'It might never happen.'
Well, this just served to make Bobbeh Lindsay even more belligerent than usual, and so the next person to innocently comment on this had had an unexpected meeting with his fist. This caused Bobbeh Lindsay to spill his pint over his dinner in the process.
By now he was convinced it Really Had Happened. Leaving the pub in the torrential rain, and after another text, he had managed to consolidate all this problems into one easily manageable Bobbeh2-sized problem. And to Lindsay, that was a fluffy, dim problem that could easily be dealt with very little effort.
As he knocked on the Bobbeh household's door, he grinded his teeth and cracked his knuckles with determination. Not because he planned any violence, oh no, it was just to... y'know, psyche himself up. Because Bobbeh2 sometimes had that curious quality to make him forget how irritated he was - although no-one was quite as bad as the young Bobbeh1, he was the worst, with that face of his for making you lose your grip on The Anger.
Unaware of the current chaos descending upon the Bobbeh residence, Master Lindsay was somewhat taken by surprise when he was greeted by what appeared to be Bobbeh2 in the most outrageous get-up he'd seen yet.
"What.." he spluttered, "...are you wearing? You seriously weren't planning on meeting me tarted up like that were you? You look ridiculous."
Bobbeh2's evil twin grinned, and leant against the doorframe. "You must be Bobbeh Lindsay. Something tells me that it's not quite me you came for. But I'm quite happy for you to have me instead." He winked suggestively.
"What? Are you on something?"
The evil Bobbeh2 popped his gum. "Would you like me to be? You just give the directions..."
"Look, I've..." Bobbeh Lindsay's feelings were torn between his original irritation, a whole new level of irritation, and general bewilderment. He took a deep breath and tried again. "I know what you're playing at! This is a thinly veiled attempt to distract me from what I came here for, which is to say... Well, you're a bloody pest! Bothering me all evening - I only wanted a quiet drink alone one night! There I was, trying to forget my troubles and your constant text after text after text as like you were there, poking me in my bloody side all night!"
"Constant texting, eh?"
"Stop that. Just stop it now! Stop....."
"Distracting you?"
"Distracting me, yes. Stop distracting me from.. what I was... Look, I think we should take some *time out* from one another, don't you? Well I do, I..."
Bobbeh Lindsay was distracted once again as someone appeared behind Bobbeh2's double. It was the smallest Bobbeh. Not realising that this was in fact the evil variant of Bobbeh1 too, Lindsay groaned and addressed the ceiling instead of looking at what he thought would be ultimately distracting cherubic features.
This seemed to give him the confidence to really let rip.
"Bobbeh2, I think you're an irritating, idiotic, vain, obsessive, clingy, neurotic, pompous, buffoonish nincompoop who doesn't seem to be able to grasp or comprehend any tiny message that comes near his dizzy blonde head! Not to mention the fact that you're a bloody thief because you've still got my coat."
And with that he gave a sigh of relief. There, he'd said it. All out.
The grin from evil!Bobbeh2's face disappeared quickly. "Hmm. And you have a girl's name."
It wasn't much of an insult. On the scale of all-time great insults, it would have barely registered. But it was delivered with a dangerously confident voice, and it was an insult, and it was enough to stop Lindsay in his tracks.
"Whu... What did you say?"
"I said you have a girl's name, Lindsay. You also have all the charm and natural grace of a caveman, and a face like a slapped arse, but I didn't want to interrupt seeming as you have obviously been reading a thesaurus, and that's probably a rather big accomplishment for you, isn't it? You're a preposterously petty cretin, and a coma-inducing inflictor of misery on all who cross your path."
Bobbeh Lindsay was speechless - none had ever spoken to him like this before and survived, and he certainly didn't expect such impudence from Bobbeh2 of all the people he knew.
"Oh dear." smiled the evil Bobbeh2. "We appear to have run out of words already. Well, I'm sure we can rectify that... -Bobbeh1?"
The evil Bobbeh1 looked up - for he was currently about to bite Bobbeh Lindsay's ankles - and grinned conspiratorially.
"..I think we're going to have to help him. Take his legs, and I'll get a tie."
~
Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, Bobbeh3 was having a bonding moment of his own. Quite literally. He had regained consciousness, only to find himself strung up on the kitchen noticeboard with what he suspected were his own curtain ties. This wasn't the worst of it, however. That honour went to the fact that he appeared to be staring into some warped reflection of himself.
Now, Bobbeh3 never considered himself to be a vain sort (how could he be when the house's mirrors were constantly being taken up by other preening Bobbehs?), but he couldn't help thinking that his 'reflection' looked, frankly, in a bit of a state. All scraggy, wild-haired, moth-eaten overcoat, red-rimmed eyes, five o'clock shadow and morning after breath. Wait a minute, Bobbeh3 could smell his reflection too? Not that he wanted to.
"We're going to need your kitchen, old boy." the doppelganger rasped.
Bobbeh3 performed his very best double-take. "I say, you're *me* aren't you? Whatever is going on tonight?"
The other Bobbeh3 blinked and looked confused. The poor fellow, thought Bobbeh3. He's obviously quite disorientated, and something simply terrible must have happened to him.
Unable to answer the question, the double decided to repeat his Mission Objective instead. "We need your kitchen." This time he followed it up with a high-pitched cackle.
"Uh, well..." hesitated Bobbeh3, "I'm more than happy to be of service.. What is it you want the kitchen for, exactly? If it's food you want, I can certainly whip up a scrummy..."
"Noes, we need your kitchen", slurred his doppelganger, "Soes we can open up a hellmouth."
"...Oh." said Bobbeh3, taking in this unusual request. "Wait a minute.... in the kitchen? Wouldn't that be awfully messy?"
"Yeah."
"But... but you can't! I'm sorry but, hellmouth or not, it's the Klassiest & Kleanest Kitchens of the Kountry Kontest on the morrow!"
His double wasn't listening and had begun to move what was left of the fridge out of the way. Bobbeh3 had no idea what was going on tonight but he Didn't like the Look of It One Bit. He struggled against the curtain ties unsuccessfully. There was nothing for it - he was going to need some help in tackling this tricky situation.
"Bobbeh2!" he called, ignoring the cackles of his evil self, "Could you come to the kitchen please? It's rather an emergency..."
Immediately the kitchen door opened. "What, what is it? I'm busy."
That was surprisingly quick, thought Bobbeh3. The middle Bobbeh rarely moved that speedily, even in an emergency. Well, except for that time when Bobbeh1 had got hold of his hair tongs, thinking they were giant metal claws... But that was besides the point. Bobbeh3 turned his head to see what he thought was Bobbeh1 and Bobbeh2 stood by the doorway. The youngest Bobbeh was wearing a black cowboy hat, an eerie grin underneath his grubby and distinctly un-chubby un-rosy cheeks. The middle Bobbeh seemed even taller than usual - on taking a closer look, Bobbeh3 realised that he was in fact wearing heeled boots again. In fact, it was like he'd... never... actually... got changed.... Hang on.
"Ah yes, see -Bobbeh3," spoke Bobbeh2 as he addressed the Bobbeh3 double. "You could look so much better if you smartened yourself up a bit. Ooh, you've got him tied up? What a rather excellent idea, how exciting, if you don't mind me saying so. That might be, of course, because it was my idea..."
Feeling increasingly uncomfortable (and not just because the curtain ties were beginning to chafe), Bobbeh3 politely interrupted.
"Er, excuse me, er... Bobbeh2? Did you, um, happen to get changed after you went upstairs before?"
"No, no I didn't." smiled Bobbeh2. "There was far too much fun to be had upstairs... Well, when I say 'had', neither the little blonde one nor my other self seemed particularly up for it.."
Well, that settled it. Bobbeh3 didn't need to hear the rest (he didn't want to hear the rest, either). Clearly, for whatever reason, the house had been taken over by three very dubious versions of themselves. Which would explain why Bobbeh1 wasn't feeling himself (and why Bobbeh2 was...Noes). And it would also explain Bobbeh2's disgraceful behaviour earlier on that evening. Bobbeh3 was almost relieved (well, as relieved as one can be in such a situation) until he realised something else. When Bobbeh2 had come downstairs before... Bobbeh3 had scolded a (for once) completely... innocent... Bobbeh.
"Oh my."
~
Back upstairs, Bobbeh1 and Bobbeh2 - that is to say, our original Bobbehs - were having a bit of a dilemma. Peering round the top of the stairs, they'd heard Bobbeh3 calling alright. But they were clever enough Bobbehs to realise that if an evil Bobbeh2 was around, there must be an evil Bobbeh1 and Bobbeh3 too.
"It sounded like Bobbeh3," whispered Bobbeh1, "But then I thought the other you sounded like... well, you. I'm really confused.
"I hope you didn't think he looked like me, too. Honestly, does my hair look that stupid?"
"No, Bobbeh2. Truly."
"Well, at any rate I'm avoiding horizontal stripes. Most unflattering. Er, anyway, it looks like we have no option but to go down there. With any luck it's just my other self in the kitchen with him, but then I did hear someone at the door before, and there was that most dubious fellow hanging around outside with the bottle..."
"We're just going to have to be... really brave, Bobbeh2. Weally brave."
"Yes. Indeed."
The two Bobbehs tip-toed down the stairs tentatively, Bobbeh1 clinging onto Bobbeh2's belt loops this time. The two Ded Girls had mysteriously vanished, but something else in the hall had caught the middle Bobbeh's attention.
"Bobbeh1? Did everything seem okay until you used the telephone?"
"Yes, but I didn't think you had notic- I DIDN'T MEAN TO, BOBBEH2!"
"Shh!"
"Sorreh. But I truly didn't-"
"I know you didn't mean... this phone's upside down."
"Er..."
"Now, assuming you're completely innocent, you wouldn't happen to have dialled three sixes instead of three nines, would you?"
"I... didn't see... I was... Oh no, Bobbeh2, it is all my fault!" wailed Bobbeh1. "I've got stupid fingers and whatever's happened, it's because of me!"
"Well, what appears to have happened is that you've dialled 666 on our supposedly magic Bobbehphone and you've managed to unleash our evil selves onto the house. Oh, don't cry Bobbeh1, it happens to us all! At least you meant well. I remember that time I tried to call directory enquiries for a pizza, and somehow managed to arrange a stripogram for Bobbeh3 instead. Most embarrassing. Of course, I was a tad tipsy at the time, but it possibly could have happened..."
But before Bobbeh2 could reminisce further, the pair of them were grabbed by the shoulders and hauled into the kitchen.
~
"Look, just stay still for a minute..."
"NO."
The kitchen had never contained six Bobbehs all at once before, and to say that it was a scene of chaos was something of an understatement. Bobbehs 2 and 3 had been tied up whilst their evil counterparts were attempting to bind Bobbeh1 with very little success. His squirming combined with -Bobbeh3's drunken hands and -Bobbeh2's lack of effort ("Look, anymore and I'll be sweating, and that's not a Good Look!") meant that a fair bit of fumbling was taking place. Meanwhile, -Bobbeh1 was attempting to dig a large and messy hole in the middle of the kitchen floor.
"Look," said Bobbeh3, trying to be diplomatic, "this doesn't look like an awful lot of fun to me. Look at Bobbeh1 struggling so. You obviously all enjoy a far more... bohemian... lifestyle than ourselves. You'd probably be far better off... you know, wherever it is you've come from."
The evil Bobbeh3 looked up at his better counterpart, and for a moment he seemed to understand. Then he smiled a big toothy grin.
"'Ow many Bobbehs does it take to change 'lightbulb?"
This impromptu bit of japery took everyone by surprise - especially the evil Bobbeh2. He stood up, letting go of Bobbeh1. Seeing his chance, Bobbeh1 ran away whilst -Bobbeh2 stared incredulously at the older Bobbeh. "Look, I think you'd better let me have the gun."
The evil Bobbeh3 sniffed. "I ain't got a gun."
"You haven't got a..."
"Didn't think we needed one."
"Oh. Well. A fine situation this is turning out to be!"
"Er," interrupted the original Bobbeh2, "What do you have planned exactly? What is this all about?"
"Well, you see darling," explained -Bobbeh2, "as your other selves, we're a little tired of living in what is quite frankly, and literally, a hellhole. We figured we'd take over your place for a bit. Between you and me, our Bobbeh3 isn't exactly keeping up with his role - he smells like a plague pit too, but that's another story - and I think we could really make use of yours."
"Why have you tied me up?"
"Oh, that's just for fun. Anyway, all that's left now is for my Bobbeh1 to open up the hellmouth and then we can bring our friends along..."
"What, your evil friends?"
"Yes, -Nick, -Bobbeh, -James.... Wait, are you suggesting I'm evil?"
Bobbeh3 shuddered as he tried to think of an evil Bobbeh Lindsay. Luckily it didn't bear thinking about because the thought was interrupted by a carton of milk sailing through the air and drenching Bobbeh2's evil twin.
"What on earth was that for?" shouted -Bobbeh2.
The evil Bobbeh1 had gone on strike and had taken to hurling the contents of the fridge at his Bobbeh2.
"I WANT THE BOBBEH1!" he screamed back at the top of his voice, "You said I could have the Bobbeh1! I WANT HIM NOW!"
It was only then that the evil Bobbeh2 seemed aware that they had indeed lost the youngest Bobbeh somewhere along the line. Growling, he grabbed the evil Bobbeh3 and they ran out of the kitchen in search of him, the evil Bobbeh1 following suit.
"Oh heavens!" cried Bobbeh3, "I can't help but panic so! Where's Bobbeh1 gone and how are we going to get out of this?"
"Don't panic, Bobbeh3!" assured Bobbeh2, and with a series of wiggles (no, not the TV series) he somehow managed to unhook himself from the noticeboard and set himself free.
Bobbeh3 stared, and not for the first time that night. "How on earth did you manage that?"
"Er...personal experience. It's a long story and one that you really, absolutely wouldn't want to hear, Bobbeh3. Breath in, I'll untie you."
And with Bobbeh3 unleashed, the pair of them ran out into the hallway in pursuit of Bobbeh1 and their evil selves.
"How did all this happen, anyway?" asked Bobbeh3. "You haven't been up to something, like playing with an Oujia board again, have you?"
"NO!" retorted Bobbeh2, rather too defensively. "If you must know, Bobbeh1 accidentally dialled 666 instead of 999 on the phone there."
"Oh. I say, that's rather straightforward." said Bobbeh3, looking at the telephone thoughtfully.
"Is it?"
"Well, if three sixes brought about our demonic selves, then what we need is a nice holy number." Bobbeh3 dialled 777, and put the receiver down again. "And that should jolly well sort them out."
"I hadn't thought of that. Tch, and you thought my mobile phone was dangerous!"
End of Part Two. To be continued...