The scene~~~
" So, Agent Double Uh-Oh-OHHH-Seffennn... ", Goldfingie intoned menacingly. " I see you are enjoying zer embrace of mein scratchy, I-I-ITCH-E-E-E jumperhoffen...? "
Angie smiled straining through gritted, but glinty teeth with a *ping!* sound effect, ignoring the discomfort from the oversized, irritating garment that mummified her body from her neck to her ankles.
" Oh, I've had vurse, I mean worse, Goldfingie... I wore double nylon once ! ", she said with a slight shudder at the memory.
The gears on the winch grinded again and Angie was lowered another few inches toward the gaping vat of bubbling dankish grey liquid below her that no respecting villain would do without.
She looked over at the control panel being operated by Goldfingie's number one henchbastard, Bad-Job the E-e-e-vil Cowlneck as it grinned back at her and rubbed it's cuffs together. A dozen more cowlneck henchsweaters looked on approvingly.
" Do y-y-you expect me to talk ? "
" Nein, Frau Cox... I expect you to DYE !! "
Angie, Goldfingie and Bad-Job were suddenly startled by the rim shot from Cee at the drum kit in the corner of the dungeon.
" Oooooh, zat vas SO not a good joke... GET OUT, DUMBKOFF !! ", Goldfingie complimented.
" Now, vere verrr veee ? ", he continued thoughtfully as Bad-Job ushered Cee out with an MP-40 at it's hip and a cast iron fry pan in the other cuff.
" Oh, ja... Drowning zer Chic-I-A's number vun gal in zer grey dye gloopen !! "
" You know it won't end with me, Goldfingie ", Angie said defiantly. " There'll be Double Uh-Oh Eight, Double Uh-Oh Nine, Double Uh-Oh Ten... "
" Ja, ja.. I get der picture, Frau Cox ! ", Goldfingie interrupted as he walked over to the winch controls. " ...but today, YOU DYYYYYYE !! "
Angie steeled herself as she was again lowered into the vat, her sparkly spyboots only a foot away from being permanently de-sparkled.
" If I could swear I'd give you such a cussing, you big poopie head meanie !! ", Angie said with some slight irritation.
A rather subtle explosion rocked the dungeon as bricks mortar and medieval wallpaper sprayed across the room.
Standing in the gaping hole stood Sergeant Major Sam of Her Majesty's Royal Yorkshire Arse Punishers ( YAP for short ) in full black tactical gear and somehow managing to wield an M-203 in his tiny cute, but deadly paws.
" SAM !! I KNEW YOU'D COME !! ", Angie murmured, her faith rewarded and there was a kids cheering sound effect.
Sam then tossed the M-203 aside and went on the attack, plowing into the henchsweaters like a dog possessed.
They had little to no hope as Sam tore through their ranks, scuffing, biting and giving Yorkshire head butts and noogies as he went.
Angie by now was folding herself as she was continuing to lower towards the deadly grey gloopen dye.
" Uhhh, Sam ? Anyone ? ", she despaired.
Just then a monkeywrench spun across the room knocking Goldfingie clean out as he fell across the controls and the winch stopped lowering.
" Would Ma'am like some assistance ? ", a dry British voice asked.
" Mal, baby ! ", Angie intoned. " Yes, please ! I'm not sure how long I can hold this stomach crunch for !! "
Sam finished cleaning up the gang and retrieved his M-203 before he helped Malfred, Angie's faithful butler to pull her clear from the deadly vat.
" You look a tad itchy, Ma'am ", Malfred said.
" For the last time, Malfred... I'm Dutch ! ", Angie replied as she squirmed inside her sweater prison.
Malfred and Sam just smiled and sighed.
