Whirlwind (standard:humor, 1495 words)
Author: Julia McGinty	Added: Oct 04 2001	Views/Reads: 3120/2243	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A satire of American disaster movies... just the beginning of a short novel, would very much appreciate feedback...

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

glimmered in the sunlight. A sudden, gentle breeze sprang up out of 
nowhere and fluttered her immaculate, golden hair. 

“Why, hello.” Biff was impressed. 

“What did you want, Mr Johnson?” 

“Call me Biff. So, you’re ABUM’s top meteorological scientist?” 

“They’re all out to lunch.” 

“Oh. Okay, but I’m sure you’ll be able to help me. It seems that there
is an F5 willy-willy devastating the city of Los Angeles. Here, I’ll 
just check if it’s on TV.” 

Biff picked up his 130 button remote control and began the search for
‘ON’. Ten minutes later, NBC news appeared on the 120 inch flat-screen 
Panasonic TV. 

“A willy-willy is sweeping through the city of Los Angeles, California.
The whirlwind sprung up in Fresno early this morning, and in four hours 
it has increased from one third to almost three quarters of a knot 
strong. As you can see behind me, it has already destroyed a large 
number of sandcastles and anthills, leaving only rubble in its wake. 
Residents in the Laguna Beach area are being evacuated as we speak. The 
three foot funnel of fear is expected to increase speed during the day. 
We’ll keep you updated on developments. Now, back to Quentin in the 
studio.” 

Biff muted the TV. 

“So, ahh. Um, what was your name?” 

“Carol. Carol McEnroe.” 

“Carol. So, Carol, what are we going to do about this?” 

“Well, stop it, I suppose. Millions of people’s lives are at risk. We’ve
got to do something.” 

“Great idea. But first, would you like some coffee?” 

“Oh, yes, thanks.” 

Biff stood, eager to flaunt what he did for a living. He opened a wooden
door in the corner of his office. 

“Why don’t you just step through here? This is where I spend most of my
time at work.” 

“Oh. What, exactly, do you do?” 

Biff puffed out his chest proudly. 

“I’m the chief coffee maker.” 

“Wow. That must be a demanding job.” 

“It sure is.” 

Carol gasped. The room they had stepped into was not really a room, but
a cavern. Seventeen flights of metal steps zigzagged down to the dirt 
floor. Huge, silver devices puffed smoke and poured brown liquid down 
clear tubes. Brisk scientists in white coats and glasses, writing on 
clipboards, hurried between the machines. There was a general cacophony 
of generators running, chains clanking, and water boiling. 

Biff breathed in deeply. He loved the gentle aroma of Jamaican black
beans. 

“Now,” he asked, “How do we go about saving the world?” 

“Well, we could start with a latte,” Carol suggested. 

Biff wiggled his eyebrows. 

“Sure thing, babe.” 

“Biff Johnson! Could I ask you to NOT treat me like some sex object.
I’ve had enough of it over the years, and I won’t take it any more. 
It’s condescending. I feel like a piece of meat. It’s degrading. Why 
won’t a man ever look for my brain before he looks at my legs?” 

Carol wasn’t really expecting an answer to this, but Biff felt the need
to redeem himself with a little fatherly advice. 

“Well, Carol, it might have something to do with the fact that your
skirt is shorter than the hair on a monk’s head. And the top three 
buttons of your blouse have come undone.” 

Carol bristled at this remark. 

“For your information, Biff, I undid the buttons myself. It’s hot in
here.” 

Carol fanned herself with a piece of paper and sighed. 

“But I still want a latte.” 

An hour and seven cups of extra-strong Arabian premium later, Biff had
slid into a caffeine-induced high. He stood in front of the window in 
his office, twitching rapidly and occasionally jumping up and down on 
his tippy-toes. After considering the window for a few minutes, he 
opened it and leant out, watching the traffic thirteen stories 
below.Carol sat in Biff’s swivelling ergonomic office chair, gracefully 
sipping a mocchachino and studying a printout of the weather map. 

“Biff?” 

Carol had been so engrossed in the disturbing data that she hadn’t
noticed Biff’s predicament. While leaning out of the window, an extra 
large twitch had projected him over the sill and had left him hanging 
on by his fingertips. Looking down, Biff screamed. He had always been 
terrified of heights. 

“Help! Help, Carol!” 

Sighing reluctantly, Carol got up and strolled over to the window. 

“Biff, I do wish you wouldn’t do such childish things.” 

“Pull me up, pull me up!” 

“Only if you promise never to call me baby again.” 

“Okay, okay, just get me up. I can’t stand heights!” 

Carol groaned wearily. 

“I just knew today was going to be one of those days.” 

As she said this, she took hold of Biff’s tie and heaved him back into
the office. 

“There, now we can get on with this saving the world business.” 

Biff stared at her in amazement. 

“Carol, don’t you realise you just saved my life!” 

“Really. Now, let’s get moving.” 

“No, I have to repay you...I owe everything to you now.” 

“Look, Biff. It was no big deal. Anyway, if you hadn’t acted like such a
baby, you could have saved yourself. Instead, you just hung there 
screaming ‘Help me, Carol, I’m scared of heights’!” 

“I did not say that!” 

“What do you mean, of course you did!” 

“I’m not scared of heights, not at all!” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

As agitation set in, Carol had to will herself not to take to Biff with
a letter-opener. 

“Now, Biff. Forget about all that.” 

“How can I?” 

“You have to, Biff. We have to save Los Angeles from a lethal
willy-willy.” 

“Oh yeah. I forgot about that. Okay, let’s have a look at this map.” As
Biff studied the weather map, Wilfred lurched into his office, once 
again out of breath. 

“Got your kid, Boss.” 

“Right, thanks, Wil. What are you planning to do with him?” 

“I don’t know. Does he like the zoo?” 

“No, he’s in the middle of a campaign about animal rights. He’d probably
try to let all the animals out.” 

“That explains it. He tried to attack one of the ladies out the front.
She was wearing a fur coat.” 

... to be continued... only the beginning of a novel...


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