The Black Fossil
Rodney Mountain
The Black Fossil
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All Rights Reserved
Copyright 2004 by Rodney Mountain
Music Copyrights
Oops I Did It Again (c)2000 Written by Yacoub/Sandberg
If I Only Had A Brain (c)1939 Written by Arlen/Harburg
I'd Do Anything For Love (c)1993 Written By Jim Steinman
My Name Is (c)1999 Written by Young/Siffre/Mathers
Always Look on the Bright Side of Life (c)1979 Written by Eric Idle
All Parody Lyrics (c) 2004 Rodney Mountain
The author claims no ownership of the music or original lyrics, just fair use via parody.
Other Titles by Rodney Mountain
Immortal Universe Novels
The Healy Murders
Durell’s Insurrection
The Accidental Immortal
Undercover
The Killer Strikes
Anoki's Revenge
The Immortal Progression
Corporate Immortality
Not With a Whisper
The Mullinix: Ascension
The Mullinix: Redemption
The Mullinix: Resolution
Other Works
Night Strike (Short Story Anthology)
The Black Fossil
Dedication
This book is dedicated to all of you poor souls who made the attempt to do National Novel Writing Month. Win or lose, you made the attempt and did the damn near impossible. This book is the result of my first attempt at it and thanks to the severe annoyance and the lack of sleep I had during this time it will most likely be my last attempt at it. But like all of you nano winners, I can claim I won.
Foreword
It's been nearly seven years since I went through this experience and time has given me a new perspective on just how truly insane it is to try to write a coherent novel in just thirty days. The fact that I finished five days early doesn't really say much for my sanity at the time.
I've written a total of thirteen books and a fairly lengthy short story compilation and I'm still not sure what to do with this one. It is in stark contrast to my usual style that is for sure. Usually I go for anything between action/adventure, mild science fiction or even Epic Fantasy with the Mullinix Trilogy.
If you downloaded this book expecting to find more of the same, well… You're going to be disappointed. This book is probably the craziest thing I have ever written. This is from someone who routinely writes about serial killers and immortals, so let me tell you that is really crazy.
The Black Fossil is a comedy. It was intended to be the literary equivalent of the bastard love child of Leslie Nielsen and Monty Python. In some ways I think it succeeds admirably, in others I mainly cringe when I reread or even think about it.
I did notice after finishing the final edit that I'd made a lot of Michael Jackson jokes. I guess this was because I'd seen a lot of stuff about his trial on TV while writing this. Unfortunately, the jokes are nowhere near as funny now as they seemed to be before he died.
All in all, this book is good for a few chuckles and certainly is not the worst thing I have ever written. If you take it for what it was intended to be it is a cheap bit of entertainment (especially since I plan on releasing it for free).
In the end it all added up to be a National Novel Writing Month winner, which is exactly what it was intended to be. So kick back, have a few cheap laughs and enjoy a light comedy with some really, really, really stupid jokes.
-Rodney Mountain, August 3, 2011
PS: Try not to groan too much at the song parodies that I used mainly to burn word count when I couldn't figure out what to do next. I did this mess on a nasty timeline, remember…
Author’s Note
I started the Black Fossil on a whim and a dare from my wife. As I stated in the dedication I wrote it to satisfy the insane desire to write a novel in thirty days. As I have been writing novels for nearly five years now as a hobby I made it my goal to have something at least reasonably publishable by the time the thirty days had passed.
Unfortunately I didn’t realize when I started the project just how much drive that was going to include. But I still laugh when I read it and I think you will too. What you’re getting is almost exactly what I had when I finished it on November 25th after a long and grueling 8000 word end run.
I’ve edited it to the point of fixing any spelling and grammatical errors that I could find myself and/or had the grammar checker find for me. I also repaired a few minor continuity errors. The plot, or lack thereof, is original and can be taken as what I originally intended.
God help you all.
--Rodney Mountain, Thursday, 12/2/04
Prologue – A Long Time Ago in a Place Far, Far away…
"It is magnificent," the generically named man said about the black object on the altar, "I just wish I knew what it was!"
"Same for the language we’re speaking," his odd friend agreed, "I don’t think we’ve ever spoken anything like this before."
"Of course you haven’t," The Author told them, "I can’t have you speak your normal language. None of my readers would understand it!"
"Who are you?" the generically named man asked.
"The guy writing this piece of crap," The Author said, "Now get focused on that black object. It’s the only reason you two morons exist."
"Ok," his odd friend said, "No need to get nasty about it."
"So since it appears that we’re here to be a piece of expository pains in the ass," the generically named man said, "I guess we should do something with this thing on the altar."
"Hmmm," his odd friend said, "Yes, I guess we might want to do that. Still, why would anyone be concerned about a frightfully dull piece of blackened fossil?"
"Because by the time the real main characters deal with it," The Author told them, "It will be old and coveted by everyone in the book. This is what we authors laughingly call a plot. Now do your part and do something weird with it that will establish the conflict for my book."
"Touchy," the generically named man said, "But since he is the one signing our checks I guess we should do something."
"Quite," his odd friend said, "But what?"
"Think of something," The Author said impatiently, "And try to take about 1500 words in doing it. I’ve only got 30 days to write this piece of garbage and you two morons are part of it. Now move!"
"Very well," the generically named man sighed, "Shall we pack up that piece of garbage and drag it off somewhere?"
"Yes," his odd friend agreed, "Why don’t we drag it through the village and brag about some nonexistent magic powers that we know this black fossilized piece of junk doesn’t have, but our dumb ass brethren will believe and send down the centuries as folklore that will somehow go unexplored until some idiot in the future gets it in his head to find this thing."
"Sounds like a lovely idea," the generically named man agreed, "Too bad it is too heavy for us to lift."
"Did you have to make it so big?" his odd friend asked the author.
"I had to make up for your small penis somehow," The Author said, "Now stop complaining and move that thing!"
"Rude fellow, isn’t he?" the generically named man said, "Still, seeing as he is paying us so well and all…"
"You get that side," his odd friend said, "I’ll get this side. We’ll drag it through town a
nd see if we can find a leper to cure or something like that."
"I’m thinking more a hot blonde with sexual dysfunction to cure," the generically named man said, "If we’re dragging this thing around we should get some."
Twenty Minutes Later…
"Well that little piece of unpleasantness is done," the generically named man said, "Why is it that all villagers in these books are gullible idiots who believe everything that someone dragging a large black fossilized thing tell them?"
"I don’t know," his odd friend said, rubbing his jaw, "I don’t think that thing does a thing for sexual dysfunction, however…"
"You’re just sore that I’m waiting for later in the book to include the obligatory sex scene," The Author said, "Now you need to put it someplace that it is plausible for something that big and black to be lost for centuries until I need it again."
"But we don’t have theatres showing Gigli here anymore!" the generically named man exclaimed, "Not that I have a clue what that means being from when I am."
"When are we?" his odd friend asked.
"Didn’t you read the beginning?" the generically named man asked him, "Prologue – A Long Time Ago in a Place Far, Far away…"
"Oh yeah," his odd friend remembered, "Very well then. I guess we should find a place to hide it."
"Good," The Author said, "It’s about time you did something useful other than increase my word count. Now go hide that thing like good little mooks."
"What’s a mook?" the generically named man asked.
"Don’t ask," The Author said, "It’ll explain itself later."
The generically named man and his odd friend dragged the black fossil for miles upon miles, thereby tiring themselves out and leaving many legends back in their village. The Blonde with sexual dysfunction became the town slut and the entire population rejoiced and sang songs about the generically named man, his odd friend and the Black Fossil.
"That’s nice," the generically named man said, "But I’m tired now. Can we hide the fossil and go home?"
"Have you hidden it yet?" his odd friend asked, "Really, really well?"
"Well enough that you’ll never find it," the generically named man said, "I will never find it either, but that’s ok. I want to go home and take advantage of that cured blonde."
"Sounds like a plan," his odd friend said, "Now what is that I see in the distance there?"
"It is your call to mookdom," The Author said, "I really can’t have you around telling everyone where you hid the black fossil now can I?"
"Hey!" the generically named man said, "I have a blonde to go take advantage of! Don’t I at least get a run around with her?"
"Nope," The Author said, "The only one who gets laid is the hero. And you, my generically named mook, are not him. Besides, you haven’t wasted near enough words."
"Let me get laid and I’ll waste some words!" the generically named man said, "Come on!"
"You know," his odd friend said, "I think that blonde is now my sister. I don’t like the way you are talking about her!"
"When did this happen?" the generically named man asked, "I didn’t think you had a sister."
"I do now," his odd friend said, "I guess that’s what is odd about me."
"Don’t give me that crap!" the generically named man said, "You wanted to do her too!"
"Those are fighting words!" his odd now ex-friend said, "Put em up!"
"You want me to fight you?" the generically named man said, "But why?"
"To defend the honor of my sister!" the now enraged odd ex-friend said, "You must die now, you generically named mook!"
"But you have no name either," the generically named man said logically, "That means you may be a mook too."
"What the hell is a mook?" The odd ex-friend type guy asked, "Will anyone answer that before I kill this asshole?"
"Sure," The Author said, "A mook is a generic person that is generally there to be cannon fodder for the hero or for the villain."
"But they aren’t here!" the generically named man and his odd ex-friend exclaimed, "Are they?"
"No," The Author admitted, "But you two are going to kill each other before you can explain that lack of logic!"
At this point the generically named man and his odd ex-friend started to wail on each other in a rather impressive display of futility. Neither one was very good at fighting, but it doesn’t take all that much to be good enough to write a paragraph about their rather pointless demise. Both men died quickly and uselessly because I was getting bored of their antics.
"Damn you!" the generically named man said, "Whoever you are!"
"I’ll be back!" his odd now dead ex-friend said, "Count on it!"
"Of course you will," The Author admitted, "I can always use a good mook. I’m sure I’ll bring you back to get killed again sometime. But for now I’ve wasted about 1300 or so words, so we’re looking good. I have the beginnings of what I so laughingly call a plot and there is no one who knows about it except anyone who has sat through this opening. Now just croak in a puff of futility and all will be good!"
So they did. In a puff of futility the generically named man and his odd ex-friend died of their injuries and their bones were scattered to the winds over time, leaving nothing except the all important legend and the unknown hiding place of the black fossil. Not to mention many happy villagers in the town where the blonde neo-slut lived for the rest of her days.