Title: THROUGH THE VALLEY OF CLICHES
Copyright 2000
Author: Reckless
([email protected])
Rated: R
(more or less)
Disclaimer: The
A-Team characters belong to Stephen J. Cannell and Universal.
Warning: Violence,
angst, h/c, war memories, death, sexual innuendo, severe mental distress,
torture, slashy thoughts. But all
made in jest.
Comments: Please. ABUSE WELCOMED. [Special thanks to Fingers, auntiehill, Lark and Elizabeth Kent
for their comments]
____________________________________________________________________
A Brief Explanation:
A month or so before writing
this parody, I posted a list of Top 10 Overused Plot Devices in A-Team Fan
Fiction on a mailing list. After
posting that list, and hearing additional suggestions from other users, I
received a challenge: use all of those plot devices in a single story. Thus, this parody was born.
This is a very goofy spoof on
many of the conventions in A-Team Fan Fiction, particularly hurt/comfort
fiction. However, by its very nature,
it may strike close to home for a few readers. Please understand that this is PURELY INTENDED TO BE IN GOOD FUN and is
not intended to criticize any particular author or work. So please, if you see a particular scene or
sentence that looks familiar, do not assume that I am lampooning your or anyone
else's story. In fact, most of these
plot devices appear in many stories and I have used (and will continue to use)
many of them myself. So please read
this with tongue planted firmly in cheek and appreciate the silliness.
And if that doesn't work, try
to remember that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.
____________________________________________________________________
THROUGH THE VALLEY OF
CLICHES
Lieutenant Templeton Peck was
speeding along the highway in his 'vette, enjoying the cool breeze blowing
through his golden hair. Days like this
made him feel great to be alive, even if he lived his life as a fugitive,
convicted of a crime he didn't commit, suffering from constant nightmares of
being tortured in a Vietnamese prison camp, always struggling with his fear of
abandonment, never able to stay in one place for too long, with the military
always at his back, with no chance to ever have the life he always hoped
for. Yep, he was happy to be
alive. It was a great day.
And about to get better, Face
thought, as he saw the back end of a blond sticking out from the front end of a
little red convertible. He knew he was
a sucker for these types of situations and Hannibal would be peeved if the
lieutenant got caught again. But, Face
shrugged, how could he deny a damsel in distress?
Pulling the 'vette to a stop
in front of the convertible, he nonchalantly climbed out of the car and made
his way to the lady. Her long blond
hair was all he could see -- well except for her shapely derriere in the
too-short shorts. Face corrected
himself. There was no such thing as "too-short"
shorts. She must not have heard him, so
he cleared his voice. The woman lifted
her head, but did not turn.
"Can I be of any assistance,
ma'am?" he inquired as he straightened his tie.
"Most definitely" came an
impossibly low voice from the lady in front of him. She swung around, and Face found himself staring into a set of
dark, beady, and most definitely male eyes.
"Kyle."
---------------------------------------------------
"The Faceman late for check-in
ag'in?" BA Baracus asked his commanding officer.
Hannibal nodded and BA knew
what had happened.
"Aw, man. Don' he ever learn to leave things to the
auto club?"
"No. If he did, we wouldn't be able to keep
rescuing him from sadistic torturers."
BA nodded. "I'll go get the fool."
---------------------------------------------------
"What the?" Face wondered as
he woke up in a dark room. He tried to
raise his right arm, but it was chained to the wall. So was his left. As he
looked down to see if he could reach the lockpicks conveniently hidden in his
pants, he discovered that his clothes were gone and he wearing a pair of
camouflage fatigues.
'Why do the guys who capture
me always seem to have a spare pair of fatigues laying around in my size?' he
thought. 'Just once, couldn't they have
a nice Armani sport jacket? A Calvin
Klein sweater? Hugo Boss? Polo by Ralph Lauren?'
Just as he began to wonder
how much the producers had been paid for this blatant product placement, Face's
musings were interrupted by the sound of a key in the door. As the door swung open, light flooded the
room.
There, like a figure out of
Face's worst nightmare, stood Dougie Kyle.
"Welcome, Lieutenant."
"Go to hell, Kyle."
"Oh, I'm sure you're going to
get there first. Bwahahahahaha."
"What the hell was that?"
Face asked.
"Why, it's the evil laugh
that all bad guys give before they torture the good guys."
"Couldn't you make it sound
more convincing? I mean 'Bwahahahahaha'
sounds like a sick sheep."
Kyle stopped, looked pensive
for a moment, and cackled again. "HAAAHAAAHAAAHAAA." He stopped and looked back at the chained
lieutenant. "Sound better?"
Face bobbed his head slightly
as he let the sound linger in his brain. Chills down his spine? Check. Hairs raised on the back
of his neck? Check. A sinking feeling in the pit of his
stomach? Check. Yeah, he was suitably scared now. Looking back at Kyle, Face nodded.
"Good," said the larger
man. "We're going to have some fun."
---------------------------------------------------
"This is a bad idea,
Hannibal," BA said.
They had driven through the
streets of Los Angeles all day. Face
had been missing for at least ten hours and could be anywhere by now.
The team had searched all of
the usual places -- the survivalist camps in the desert, the basement torture
chambers scattered throughout Beverly Hills, the houses next door to Face's
apartment -- to no avail. Hannibal had
even stripsearched the priests at Face's old orphanage in case any of them
turned out to be sadistic madmen out for revenge. As each lead turned into a dead end, the frustration in the van
grew, and they were now down to Hannibal's last lead.
"Nick's Casa de
Camouflage and Canes?" Murdock asked incredulously. "What do you think this place has to do with Facey, Hannibal?"
"Captain," the colonel
replied, "have you ever noticed that whenever we find Face after he's been
kidnapped, he's always in fatigues?" Hannibal chomped on his ever-present cigar. "Someone has to supply them."
"Umm, but Hannibal, couldn't
the bad guys get them at the local army/navy store?"
Hannibal grinned. "It's not nice to point out plotholes. Besides, if Face is involved, they also need
chains, ropes, canes, bamboo cages, sweat boxes . . ."
"But Hannibal," BA cautioned
cautiously, "you're assuming whoever got the Faceman is a one-stop shopper."
Hannibal kept speaking, his
voice taking on a sing-song tone. "Shackles, electrodes, whips . . ." Hannibal seemed to be enjoying his thoughts just a little too much.
The list continued long after
they entered the store. Once inside,
they had no trouble finding Nick. The
man was the size of a small barn and wearing a uniform full of medals he
obviously had never earned.
"I want to know about one of
your recent purchasers," Hannibal threatened in his most threatening tone, the
threat evident to anyone who heard the threat.
Nick looked at them and
smiled. "You must be the A-Team. One of my customers left you a present."
---------------------------------------------------
"Ahh, you went to Nick's Casa
de Canes and Camouflage, didn't you Kyle?" Face wheezed as the cane rained down
on his back. "I recognize the
workmanship."
"Yes," Kyle agreed. "Nick does good work. And I got bulk and frequent buyer
discounts."
---------------------------------------------------
The team had just listened to
the tape. Why did it always have to be
Dougie Kyle?
"Colonel, I have your man
here. Say something Peck?"
Some strangled words came
through. "Awwwwwaaaaaawwwww." But the team knew their meaning right away.
"Come on, BA. Face is being held in a hidden campsite in the
Appalachian Mountains," Murdock announced.
"How'd ya know that fool?"
"The way he pronounced the
'aaaa' in the middle."
"Oh," BA said, "when you put
it that way."
"Yeah," Murdock
rejoined. "When we were in the POW
camp, Face told me that if he ever said 'aaaa' like that again, it meant he was
thinking about the Appalachian Mountains."
"Sergeant," Hannibal
commanded. "Step on it."
---------------------------------------------------
Somehow the team managed to
drive the van cross-country in a matter of hours. They also had no trouble locating Kyle's camp despite the fact
that the Appalachian Mountains extend 1,600 miles from Quebec to Alabama. That was because Murdock detected the mooing
of a rare Pennsylvania free-range longhorn cattle in the background of Kyle's
tape and pointed out that the cattle are found in only one part of the
Appalachian Mountains. Inexplicably,
the rare Pennsylvania free-range longhorn cattle neither lived in Pennsylvania
nor were free range. Come to think of
it, their horns also were pretty short. Actually, the only surviving Pennsylvania free-range longhorn cattle
were penned up on a small farm in the northwestern tip of South Carolina.
"Hey, Hannibal, ya sure we in
the right place?"
"I don't know, BA. All that razor wire, the concrete bunkers,
the armed guards with the automatic rifles? I guess it could be the ladies' aid society."
"Jus' thought the Tupperware
party in the center of the yard was a little odd."
---------------------------------------------------
Despite his broken ribs,
bruised back, damaged kidneys, hemorrhaging liver and collapsed lungs, Face was
pretty upbeat. He had refused to break
under Kyle's torture. Now the lieutenant
was trying to figure out why he was lying in the middle of an oversized,
plastic container. Actually, he was
really trying to figure out why anyone would need such a large container. Maybe if Kyle had an entire cow to freeze
all at once . . .
Face decided it would be
better to stop wondering.
---------------------------------------------------
Under cover of darkness, the
team quickly, silently, deadly, stealthily and ferociously took out Kyle's
guards. Slipping unnoticed into the
compound, Hannibal headed for the building that looked the most like the center
of operations. Unfortunately, it turned
out to be the ladies changing room -- unfortunately only because, at most
paramilitary compounds there are not that many ladies changing in the middle of
the night.
"Should we come back
tomorrow, Hannibal?"
"No," answered the
disappointed colonel. "We'd better try
to find Face."
"Where?" whispered BA.
Hannibal scanned the
compound, but did not have a clue. Feeling a tapping on his shoulder, he looked up at Murdock who pointed
across the compound.
"There, Hannibal."
"How do you know, Murdock?"
"I . . . just feel it,
Colonel."
Hannibal nodded. He knew how close Murdock and Face
were. They really were more like
brothers than teammates. The colonel
trusted their bond and followed the captain across the compound. Hannibal's trust was rewarded a few minutes
later when BA pointed out a signpost.
"Look, Hannibal," BA said.
Hannibal followed BA's index
finger to the sign. It was a post with
an arrow pointing to their right. The
name of a location was printed on the arrow.
"Toilets, BA? Do you really think Face is in the toilets?"
the colonel asked incredulously.
"No, man. Underneath that one."
Hannibal looked again. Directly underneath the "Toilets" arrow --
and pointing in the same direction -- was another arrow. This one read "Instruments of Torture."
"Good work, Sergeant."
The team sped across the
compound, following the "Instruments of Torture" arrows until they reached a
small building near the corner of the facility.
"This looks to be the place,"
Hannibal said. "See? There's a 'Rack room,' 'Whipping room,'
'Celine Dion Records room.'"
The color drained from
Murdock's face as he heard the last room. To Face, that was a fate worse than death.
BA studied the sign as
well. If anyone had subjected his Li'l
Brother to hours of Celine Dion, they were gonna hurt.
Hannibal wondered about the
last room. He kind of liked Celine
Dion.
"Everyone in positions?"
Hannibal asked. It was, in truth, a
silly question, since they were all going to go through the front door at the
same time and there really were no positions to take. Nonetheless, BA and Murdock nodded.
BA knocked the door off its
hinges with a single blow and the three men burst through.
"Umm, BA?" Murdock said.
"What, ya crazy fool?"
"You know, that door was
unlocked." Murdock turned the knob on
the door that was now resting on the ground.
They proceeded through the
hallways of the structure, which, from the outside, seemed only about the size
of a tool shed. Yet inside, they found
themselves delving down underground through the twisting warrens.
"Hannibal, it gettin' colder
down here?"
The colonel had noticed the
rapidly decreasing temperature as well. He had barely completed his responsive nod when they turned a corner and
were met with a sight that made their blood run even colder than the freezing
room.
There, in the center, was a
large pink, plastic container. Inside
was a very still and quite frozen figure; the blond hair and features of
Templeton Peck were unmistakable.
On the outside, there was a
note:
Dear
Colonel Smith
I'm
very sorry I've missed you, but I am assured by the Tupperware™ Representative
that this case will hold all your large foodstuffs and cryogenics for years to
come. Please let Lieutenant Peck know
that I enjoyed his company and will look forward to joining him for a drink sometime
in the future. Maybe a frozen daiquiri.
Douglas
Kyle, Maj., U.S. Army (ret), nutball, psycho and ubervillain
"Damn it, Kyle got
away." The anger in Murdock's furious
voice was plain.
"That's okay, Captain. He always does. After all, we need him to come back and threaten Face in the last
chapter."
"So what we gonna do with the
frozen Faceman?" BA asked.
"Take the whole container,
BA," the colonel commanded. "We'll
defrost him in the van."
---------------------------------------------------
Loading Face into the van,
the team pulled the lid off the container. With a resounding pop, it came off and they could see that their friend
was enclosed in a large block of ice.
"That's a really good seal,
Hannibal," Murdock commented, noting Hannibal's concurrence.
"Hannibal, 'ccording to this
map, there's a hospital 'bout twenty miles down the road," BA called from the
front seat.
Murdock concurred. "They can set up a proper hot water bath and
treat the hypothermia."
"No, Murdock," the colonel
rejoined. "We can't take Face to the
hospital. BA, turn the heater on and
head for Bad Rock."
"But Hannibal, Bad Rock's on
the other side of the country."
"That's true, Captain, but we
need the services of Maggie Sullivan, Miracle Doctor.™ Only she can save Face."
"But isn't she just a rural
general practitioner who has a small examining room in her house? Doesn't she see patients in her robe?"
Hannibal's eyes gleamed with
lustful and no-so-lustful thoughts. "That's why she performs such miracles."
---------------------------------------------------
Over the course of the next
few hours, the van's heater slowly defrosted the block of ice. As the van sped down the interstate, it left
a trail of water that flooded two nearby farms and a highway rest stop.
"Okay, hold onto him,"
Hannibal ordered as he and Murdock lifted the Face popsicle out of the
container. The colonel checked for a
pulse and was relieved when he found a weak and thready one.
As they laid Face on the
ground, the scope of the abuse he had suffered became clear. They saw the blood, the bruises, the broken
bones, but even more horrifying was the way Face's hands covered his ears and
his face contorted in a rictus of pain.
"Oh God, Hannibal. Kyle did it. He subjected Face to Celine Dion," Murdock wailed. How could Face ever recover from the
torture?
"Hey, man. Li'l Bro's strong. He gonna come outta this." BA's words left no doubt.
As if in response to BA's
words, Face suddenly began convulsing.
"What's happening, Hannibal?"
Murdock cried.
"He's suffering from some
technobabble, poorly researched explanation here."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course. I found it on the internet. Oh, and it looks like Face's heart
stopped." Hannibal checked for a pulse
but could not find one. He then turned
to the driver's seat. "BA, stop the
van."
The sergeant slammed the van
to a harsh stop and leaped into the back of the van. Hannibal continued to issue commands.
"BA, get that spare car
battery and some shock absorbers. Murdock, find some of those leftover electrodes that I got at Nick's and
remove the coil from that seat."
"Not ma van, Hannibal! Nobody touches ma van"
---------------------------------------------------
Working quickly, the team
managed to shock Face's heart into beating again with the portable crash cart
they jerry-rigged out of the car battery, coil, spark plugs and leftover
electrodes from Nick's Casa de Canes and Camouflage. And, as if by clockwork, Face's heart stopped nearly every hour
on the hour. Thankfully, the team was
using a Sears Die Hard™ battery that could keep up with the lieutenant.
To try to keep Face's spirits
up on the drive cross-country, Hannibal and Murdock sang to the younger
man. They sang a song that had kept
their spirits up in the Vietnam prison camps, a song that Face, as an orphan,
had never had a mother to sing to him. The sounds of "You are My Sunshine" reverberated around the van for
hours.
As dawn broke the day after
they had left South Carolina, Face stirred. Murdock, who was softly singing next to the lieutenant, grasped Face's
hand.
"Hey, muchacho, good to see
you back." Leaping out of the passenger
seat, Hannibal moved to Face's side, all the while continuing the soft refrain
of "You are My Sunshine."
Face's sapphire blue eyes
stared up at the roof of the van. He
grasped Murdock's hand.
"P-please . . ." he
whispered. "P-please let . . . m-me die
. . . I-I . . . don't have the . . . the strength . . ." His voice trailed off.
"Come on, Faceyman," Murdock
begged through his tears. "Don't let
Kyle win. Show him you're strong enough
to get through the beating."
Face's eyes, blue as the
daytime sky, opened wide, and he grabbed the collar of Murdock's shirt. "N-no . . . not . . . the beating . . . I .
. . I c-can't take the . . . damn song . . ." Face promptly lost consciousness.
Murdock looked blankly at
Hannibal, who returned the dumbfounded gaze. Finally, Hannibal spoke up. "But
we don't know any other songs."
---------------------------------------------------
Mercifully, the team arrived
in Bad Rock the next day.
"So where to, Hannibal? The hospital? Maggie's house?
"No, BA. Find the skankiest, dirtiest little motel
around here," the colonel answered.
It did not take much time
before they found a place that fit the bill. They caught the sign reading "Fleabag" right away. Actually the motel was really called
"Fledabaugers," but the "d," "u" and the "ers" in the neon sign were burnt out.
Hannibal and BA leaped out of
the van, giving Murdock instructions to take care of Face, and then entered the
front office.
Seeing them, the man behind
the desk groaned. "Not you again."
Hannibal grinned. "Hi, Mack."
"Don't 'Hi Mack' me," the desk
clerk hissed. "Do you know how much
trouble I had getting the bloodstains out of the rug the last time you checked
in?"
Hannibal stopped and looked
at BA. "Sergeant, didn't I instruct you
to take special care to remove the bloodstains? Now apologize to this man."
BA looked sheepish. "Sorry."
Hannibal grinned back at
Mack. "Okay. Now we need a room."
The desk clerk studied them
for a moment before he turned and perused the mounted row of keys to vacant
rooms. As he lifted the key to room 12,
he stopped.
"Will this involve surgery or
just a gunshot wound?"
"Surgery," Hannibal responded
without hesitation.
Mack returned the key to room
12 to the wall. Instead, he took the
key to room 6, turned, and gave it Hannibal.
"We made this room up
special. It's got a drain on the floor
for easy clean-up. I'm sorry that it's
got no carpet, but you know how it is."
Hannibal grinned again. "I knew we could count on you, Mack."
---------------------------------------------------
Only a few minutes after they
had carried Face into the motel room and set him on the bed under the velvet
Elvis, Maggie Sullivan, Miracle Doctor™ arrived with her new assistant. Preoccupied with his lieutenant, all
Hannibal caught was a first name, Mary Sue something or other.
Almost immediately after they
arrived, Face had another incident, provided you can call someone's heart
stopping, lung collapsing and spleen rupturing an "incident."
Grabbing the Die Hard™
battery, Maggie began CPR. "Quick, Hannibal,
we need to open him up," she ordered.
Hannibal scanned the room for
her surgical supplies, but found none. Since Bad Rock was not exactly large
enough to have a local surgical supply store -- although Mack at the front desk
was discussing opening a side business out the back of the motel -- Hannibal
ordered BA to run over to the local diner.
Using a few straws, napkins,
a spoon, and a butter knife as a scalpel, Maggie quickly removed Face's spleen
and inflated Face's lung. Within
moments, the lieutenant was breathing easily into the multi-million dollar
heart-and-lung machine that Maggie had stashed in her living room. Well, it might have passed for a
multi-million dollar heart-and-lung machine if it weren't made from paper
plates and the water hose of a pick-up truck. But it sufficed.
---------------------------------------------------
Once Face's condition
stabilized, Hannibal stepped outside the room and lit his cigar. Normally, he would not have bothered with
leaving the non-smoking room, but Maggie suggested that the cigar and the
oxygen tent might not get along. He
shrugged. That had never stopped him
before. But why start a fight with her
when he hoped they might be able to sneak away to her house and test out a few
of the little purchases he had made at Nick's.
Maggie's assistant -- Mary
Sue, he reminded himself -- was sitting on the steps running down to the
parking lot, tears running down her face.
"It's difficult to see, isn't
it," Hannibal said as he sat down and put a hand on her shoulder. "We live so close to the edge that we get
used to death."
"T-that's not it," she
sobbed. "We almost lost him . . . just
when . . ."
Hannibal looked at the
girl. She looked like your average
young teenager, but something about her was so familiar. He took in her blond hair and fine
features. Then she looked up at him and
he saw the unmistakable blue eyes set against her pale skin.
Shocked, he fell away from
her. "You . . . you're his . . ." He couldn't complete the sentence.
"Yes, Hannibal. My father is a member of the A-Team. My father. . . is . . . Bosco Baracus."
---------------------------------------------------
Despite having most of his
internal organs turned inside out with a butter knife, Face woke up only
moments after surgery. His blue eyes,
dark as the turbulent ocean in a storm, fluttered as the room slowly came into
focus. A horrific apparition appeared
in front of him, and he began to jump away in fright before he realized it was
only Murdock.
"Hey, muchacho."
"Mmmaaaaanneemmm"
"That's good, Faceyman."
"Mmmaaaaanneemmm"
"No, I don't think we've got
any silk pajamas."
"Mmmaaaaanneemmm"
"Yes, that was BA's daughter
who was assisting during your surgery."
"How is he, Murdock?"
Hannibal asked from the doorway.
"I don't know, Colonel. He keeps saying 'Mmmaaaaanneemmm' and I have
no idea what it means."
"Why don't you try removing
that fuel pump from his mouth?"
"Good idea, Colonel." The pilot drew out the pump, which had only
hours before been under the hood of BA's van. "What were you trying to say, muchacho?"
"Why do I have a fuel pump in
my mouth?"
---------------------------------------------------
BA sat talking with his newly
discovered daughter. The resemblance
was eerie, like he was staring into a mirror. Except, of course, the reflection was a white, teenage girl with blue
eyes and blond hair.
"I don' understand. Why didn't your mother ever tell me 'bout
you?"
"She knew you were on the
run. After you met at that Lawrence
Welk appreciation society event . . ."
"Shhh. Not so loud. The team thinks I was attending a reunion of my local Black
Panthers cell."
"She didn't want to worry you
. . . Besides, after she died, I've managed to take care of myself."
"But ya only 13."
"Yeah, but I graduated from
college last year. I can get by on my
own . . ."
"So why'd ya come to Maggie?"
"I'm deciding between going
to Yale Law School or Harvard Medical School, so I wanted to see what medicine
was like."
"But if ya so smart, what are
ya doing with some rural GP?"
"I wanted to learn from the
best . . . Maggie Sullivan, Miracle Doctor™. She gives me lots of chances to test my mechanical genius."
"You're a mechanical
genius?" BA felt his heart swell with
pride as he heard that.
"Yes. And a classically trained pianist . . . And
a beauty queen . . . And an opera singer . . . "
A loud scream from inside the
motel room interrupted her recitation. Well, almost.
"And the winner of the
National Spelling Bee . . ."
---------------------------------------------------
Hannibal raced into the motel
room in response to the scream. "What
is it?"
"It's Face, Hannibal. He . . . He's . . . in the corner."
It was true. Face was curled up in the fetal position in
a corner of the room. He had ripped out
his IV's, pulled out his tubes and the water hose that had once been the multi-million
dollar heart-and-lung monitor was now lying on the floor. Face's blue-green eyes were wide with fear.
"He's having a
flashback. What did you do to him,
Murdock?"
"Nothing, Colonel. I just tried to give him some ice . .
." Murdock's voice trailed off as the
realization dawned on him. He suddenly understood
what Face was remembering.
------------------------
Face's mind was trapped in
Vietnam. He relived the team's capture
while on a routine mission down to the local PX so that Murdock could pick up
the latest comic books and Face could hit on the female supply clerks. They did not really need the helicopter, but
Murdock liked to fly everywhere and nobody complained about taking the long way
around. Hanoi might have been a little
far north, but it had such lovely flora and fauna that everyone enjoyed the
nice flight. Even BA did not complain
too much.
Until they crashed and wound
up in General Chao's notorious prison camp.
"Are ya sure we're in the
right place, sucka?" BA asked the VC
guard who dragged them into the camp.
"Hey, now that you mention
it," Murdock added. "I don't recall any
of the tour guides mentioning bathing beauties as part of the POW camp
scenery."
"And the volleyball court is
a little out of place," Face commented.
The guard stopped. He called over his second-in-command and
they conferred over a map for a while. Then he said something in Vietnamese and the four men were dragged out
of the camp in another direction.
"What he say fool?" BA asked,
knowing that Murdock had learned Vietnamese -- as well as cryptography,
cartography, geography, mammography (ok, BA did not really know what he was
talking about)-- during his two months of flight training with the CIA.
"They followed the wrong
map. They accidentally took us to the
Hanoi Club Med."
Three hours later, they were
in the right place.
"This man has insulted the
people of North Vietnam," screamed General Chao a few days later as his guards
dragged Face out of the interrogation center and dropped him in the open area
of the camp. In his haze and delirium,
Face remembered spitting out the foul concoction that Chao had poured down his
throat.
From behind him, he could
hear Hannibal and Murdock whispering. "What did Face do?" the colonel asked.
"He refused to drink one of
those frozen, blended coconut, rice, dog meat concoctions . . ."
Face shuddered at the
recollection. The VC could beat, cane,
brand and rape him, but they would not make him drink. He was strictly a single-malt scotch
man. Face knew that his refusal meant
an even worse punishment.
From his kneeling position,
he watched the two large guards carry out a large metal pole. The men wore black leather gloves, a clear
sign the either the writers or wardrobe department were running out of ideas as
they recycled Hannibal's signature equipment. Then Face noticed that the pole was frozen. Seeing that a long
electrical cord ran to the interrogation center, Face's blood ran cold.
"This man refuses the
hospitality we provide him. He resists
even when we give him this," Chao screamed as he pulled out one of those
little, paper umbrellas that invariably get stuck in cheap, tourist-trap Mai
Tais.
"Too Holiday Inn for me,
Chao. They only use silk umbrellas at
the Ritz," Face spat.
The Vietnamese general turned
redder by the minute. "As punishment,
this man will stay for two days on display."
Face knew what was coming and
took comfort in Hannibal's near-silent "Hang in there, kid" as one of the
guards grabbed Face by the jaw and forced his mouth open. The guard pulled Face's tongue forward and
forced it against the post. Face's
tongue stuck fast against the frozen metal.
"Gwaaahhhh" was the only
sound Face made.
------------------------
"Gwaaahhhh," the present‑day
Face screamed from the corner as he thrust his tongue in the direction of
Murdock and Hannibal.
"Come on, muchacho. It's only a flashback. You're safe, Faceyman, best buddy . .
." Only Murdock, because of their bond
forged by their years of torture, could bring Face out of this nightmare.
Murdock slowly approached,
but leaped back as Face jumped forward trying to catch Murdock with his
tongue. That was too much to ask of the
pilot. No bond was worth getting slobbered
on.
"Lieutenant," Hannibal
called, resorting to Face's military discipline (what little there was) to
break through the flashback. "You're
not in Vietnam. You're in the Fleabag
Motel in Bad Rock."
Somehow that worked. Face blinked as he came out of his fugue
state. "Fleabag?" he whispered before
promptly passing out.
---------------------------------------------------
Hannibal stepped back out on
the patio to get BA's help in moving Face back into the bed. By that time, BA was anxious for some
assistance.
"And a runway model . . ."
"BA," Hannibal
interrupted. "Can you give me some
help?" The sergeant leaped at the
opportunity and was inside before Mary Sue could finish listing her next
accomplishment.
"And a principal in the
Bolshoi . . ."
Once inside, they quickly lifted
Face back into the bed and got him reattached to all of the straws and auto
supplies. Seeing that Face was still
trembling from the flashback, Murdock crawled into the bed next to the
lieutenant in the hope that his body warmth would comfort his best friend. Curled against one another, both men quickly
drifted off to sleep.
"Hannibal, ya think there's
somethin' weird about that?"
"What do you mean, sergeant?"
"This curlin' up together in
bed. Ya think there's something deeper
to all this?"
"No, BA, it's just two
normal, heterosexual men bonding."
---------------------------------------------------
Leaving BA and Mary Sue at
the motel to keep watch over Face and Murdock, Hannibal swiftly made his way to
Maggie's house and received the thrill of his life. There in the driveway was an eighteen-wheeler, the words "Nick's
Casa de Camouflage and Canes" plastered on the side. Maggie came outside to meet him.
"Just a little delivery," she
said.
Like a child on Christmas
morning, Hannibal watched the deliverymen carrying boxes out of the truck.
"Maggie, you didn't?"
She nodded, obviously pleased
with herself. "I did."
"It's just what I've always
wanted . . . My very own 'box.'"
"So, Colonel," she said with
a seductive grin, "you want to go test it out."
---------------------------------------------------
Over the next few days, Face
slowly recovered. He probably would
have recovered faster were it not for Mary Sue continuing to list her
accomplishments.
"And I spent last summer in
the peace corps . . ."
"BA," Face whined. "I'm starting to suffer from low self-esteem
and, in my condition, I can't exactly go pick up some bimbo."
"And I'll be on the U.S.
Olympic riflery team . . ."
"Oh great, Mother Theresa with
a gun," Face grimaced.
---------------------------------------------------
"Murdock, what are we doing
here?" Face complained as the captain pulled him up the walkway to the Bad Rock
Observatory. Given the size of the
town, it was not much of an observatory. Really, it was a round room with a small telescope, but no one in Bad
Rock seemed able to tell the difference. They still ponied up five dollars a pop to look through the tiny lens so
they could then conclusively end the eternal debate over whether the moon was
really made of green cheese. They might
have argued about the surface of Mars too, but the telescope was not powerful
enough to see that far.
"Muurdoooock," Face
whined. "Couldn't you have brought
Hannibal or BA?"
"No." Murdock stomped his
feet for emphasis. "BA's catching up on
his years apart from his daughter. And
Hannibal's still in the box."
Face rolled his azure
eyes. He had always thought of Hannibal
as the closest thing Face had to a father. But the image of your dad hanging out in an authentic Vietnamese sweat
box kind of weirded Face out. It kind
of got him excited, too. Hmm. Maybe he would have to ask Hannibal for some
fatherly advice.
"Aww, c'mon Facey," Murdock
begged with his puppy dog eyes. "You've
barely been outta the motel all week. This'll be fun. We can look at
the stars."
"Oh, all right," Face
sighed. He could never resist it when
Murdock looked up with his brown, puppy dog eyes. "Just as long as Mary Sue doesn't show up to tell us she's flying
the next space shuttle mission."
Neither man saw the cold
beady eyes that were watching them enter. "I've got you now, Peck."
---------------------------------------------------
Hannibal was lying in the
metal box, staring up through the small holes at the stars. He thought about the past week. They had rescued Face from certain death. BA had found his long-lost daughter. And Hannibal had spent the past two days
roasting in the heat of day and freezing in the cold of night. All in all, it was a pretty typical week for
the A-Team.
With a smile, he rapped his
hand against the metal wall, listening to the tinny echo reverberate around the
small space.
I'm really going to have to
get Face to give this a try, he thought. The box could be so refreshing and could not be as brutal as those spa
treatments the lieutenant paid an arm and a leg for. Hannibal knew a thing or two about Swedish massages. He had suffered through one once and had
been unable to walk for a week.
The thought of Face cheered
the colonel. Hannibal had always
thought of the younger man as the closest thing he had to a son. Face was the son that fate kept him from
having. Wasn't it part of his role as
the father to dispense wisdom?
The distant sound of music
brought Hannibal out of his reverie. The lilting melody sounded familiar and he strained his ears so he could
hear the words.
"Near, far, wherever you are
. . . I believe that the heart does go on . . ."
The words made Hannibal's
blood run cold with fear. And not just
at the image of Leonardo DiCaprio turning into an ice cube.
"Maggie!!!" Hannibal
screamed. "Get the key and let me out .
. . Face is in danger."
---------------------------------------------------
"Damn it, Kyle. What have you done to him," Murdock yelled
as he tried to cover his ears and protect himself against the painful sounds of
the wailing chanteuse trailing out of the large radio resting on Kyle's
shoulder.
"And you're heeeeeeeere in my
heart . . . and my heeeeeeaaaaaart will go ooooooon . . ."
In agony, the captain vowed
that he would make Canada pay for letting Celine Dion loose on the world.
Face was in even worse
shape. Crouched on hands and knees, his
cerulean eyes scrunched up as in pain, the blond man was leapfrogging
uncontrollably around the circular room. As Face slammed into one curved wall after another, Murdock could only
think that Face looked like a tortured pinball.
Kyle laughed cruelly at the
ricocheting lieutenant. "I always
wondered what would happen if there were no corners in the room."
Just as Kyle finished the
last "Ha" in his latest "hahahahahahaha," Hannibal and BA raced through the
door. At the same instant, Face ran
headfirst into BA's chest, snapping his neck back and leaving the imprint of
BA's large, gold, crescent moon ornament on the lieutenant's forehead. Face fell limp to the floor.
"NOOOOOOO!!!" screamed
Murdock as he raced to Face's side. A
stunned Hannibal and BA could only watch.
Murdock felt for a pulse, but
could not find one. "Oh no, I think
he's dead . . ." The captain began to
rapidly pound on Face's chest.
"HA!!!" Kyle announced triumphantly. "My victory is assured. Peck's death will destroy you, Smith. He's always been your weak link. Ha. Ha. I've defeated the A-Team."
BA started to advance on the
crazy ubervillain, but Kyle pulled out a nine millimeter and pointed it at the
burly sergeant.
"Don't come closer, Baracus,
or we're going to test if that gold is bulletproof." Turning to Murdock who, having pulled a hammer out of his pocket,
was bashing it against Face's chest, Kyle ordered the captain to get up and
move next to Hannibal and BA. Kyle
motioned for the three men to move away from Face's lifeless body.
The remaining members of the
team circled the room, so that they were now standing opposite the door. Face lay at Kyle's feet.
"I'm going to enjoy this,
Smith," the psychotic villain announced. "First Peck . . . Now . . . I think I'm going to shoot the little
crybaby there."
Murdock was leaning heavily
against the colonel's side as the tears ran down the captain's face. "I-I . . . n-never . . g-got t-to . . . t-tell
. . . hi-him . . ."
"Shut up, ya crazy fool?" BA
said. "This ain't the time . . ."
"B-b-but . . . I-I-I
n-n-never . . .t-t-t-told F-F-Face t-t-that I-I-I l-l-loved hi-hi-him."
"Stop it, ya crazy fool, ya
usin' too many dashes."
Hannibal stood there
silently, a hundred questions swirling in his head. Murdock and Face? What
the hell was up with that? How had he
failed? Where had all those dashes come
from? Why had he left Face alone
knowing that Kyle might be out there? Why had he spent the day in the box? Actually, the last thing wasn't really something he questioned; Hannibal
knew the answer to that and actually wondered why he had gotten out of the box.
"You won't get away with
this, Kyle," Hannibal growled.
"Yeah, sucka," BA added uselessly.
Kyle raised the gun and aimed
at Murdock. "Say your prayers,
nutcase."
From Kyle's feet, a weak
voice said, "I think that's my line."
---------------------------------------------------
The fight did not last
long. Despite having just received CPR
with a ballpeen hammer, Face showed no ill-effects and immediately overpowered
the psychotic thug who must have outweighed Face by 50 pounds. He first swept Kyle off his feet and then
leaped on top of the ubervillain, pounding him with his fists. Face was no longer the glib conman, but he
was now the trained Special Forces killer.
"This is for kidnapping
me." He threw a right cross.
"This is for beating me with
your bulk discounts from Nick's." He
threw a left uppercut.
Across the room, Hannibal
watched in amazement. 'Bulk discounts?'
he wondered. "Why didn't I know about
that?"
"This is for turning me into
a frozen entree." Face fired a low blow
to the groin. This not being a boxing
match, no points were taken from Face. BA and Murdock, however, winced at the sight.
"And this," Face yelled, "is
for the Celine Dion music." The
overhand right struck Kyle right on the bridge of the nose, knocking him
unconscious.
As Kyle collapsed in a bloody
pulp, the rest of the team knew it was over. Seeing Face collapse, because people don't normally recover from CPR
that fast, only confirmed that.
---------------------------------------------------
Face remained unconscious in
the motel for the next two days, Murdock never leaving his side. It had taken so much courage for Murdock to
confess the feelings that he had kept hidden since the first moment that he had
seen the blond con artist in Vietnam.
gratuitous flashback to
Vietnam omitted
Back in the present, Murdock
wondered whether telling Face about his true feelings would ruin their
friendship. Should he just let things
stay the same as they always had been? No, Murdock needed to confess his love for the other man. Isn't that what Dr. Richter had told him?
gratuitous flashback to a
therapy session omitted
"Murdock." Face's weak words brought Murdock out of his
reverie.
"Hey, Faceyman," Murdock
replied softly. "We thought we'd lost
you. The Die Hard™ battery finally ran
out of juice."
Face smiled and looked up at
the captain's puppy dog eyes.
"Face," Murdock said
slowly. "There's something I need to
say . . . I love you . . ."
"I know, Murdock. I love you, too."
"No, Face, not like
that. I mean I love you."
"I know, Murdock. I love you, too."
"Darn it, Face. You're not listening. I love you."
"I know, Murdock. I love you, too."
Brown puppy dog eyes met
clear, pale blue eyes.
"You mean that, Face? Really?"
gratuitous sex scene and
references to "hard members," "throbbing organs" and anything "engorged"
omitted
---------------------------------------------------
Two days later, Hannibal sat
on the front steps of the motel smoking his cigar. Mary Sue was on the far side of the parking lot, but not far
enough away.
"And a nuclear physicist . .
."
Hannibal did not hear what
came next, because she was drowned out by the sound of the sirens. Looking up, he saw the three green, military
sedans come tearing into the parking lot.
They unfortunately missed
Mary Sue. Couldn't Decker do anything
right?
Hannibal raced inside the
motel room, interrupting Face and Murdock, who were placing a telephone order
with Nick's.
---------------------------------------------------
"We're trapped, Hannibal," BA
said, stating the obvious.
The motel room had only one
entrance and the MPs were making it pretty difficult to get to the van.
"Awww gee," Face sighed. "I never thought we'd go out like this. And before I even got a chance to test the
new box."
"That's okay, Facey," Murdock
whispered softly to the lieutenant. "At
least we got these few days together."
Face nodded as the words sank
in. He turned to Hannibal so he could
say what he had always wanted, but had never been able to say.
"Hannibal . . ."
"Face?"
"I . . . umm . . . I wanted
to tell you that you've been the closest thing to a father that I've ever had."
"And you've been the closest
thing to a son I've ever had, kid," Hannibal answered.
Murdock said nothing, but
tears fell from his puppy dog eyes. He
took Face's and Hannibal's hands and motioned for BA to join them in a group
hug.
BA said nothing as he looked
at the faces of the men who had been his teammates for so many years. Finally, embracing them, he spoke.
"I love you guys."
In their moment of bonding,
the team barely heard the noise come from the center of the room.
---------------------------------------------------
"Pssst. Over here."
Hannibal looked up over
Face's and Murdock's shoulders. There,
his head sticking slightly out of a hole in the floor, was Mack, the desk
clerk.
"This is a private moment . .
." the colonel began to warn.
"No," Mack interrupted. "C'mon. I've got a way out of here."
BA glowered. "Why should we trust ya, sucka?"
Mack answered quickly. "I want to help. I know who you are. I
know all about the A-Team. You see . .
. my sister-in-law's, niece's, best friend's, brother's dentist was in the same
POW camp with you guys. He always
talked about you and, well, I guess I owe it to him."
"Oh, well, since ya put it
tha' way." BA and the rest of the team
followed Mack down the drain.
Within minutes, the team had
emerged in the front office and slipped out the back way and around to the side
of the building. Decker's MPs still
stood between the team and BA's van.
"Aww, Hannibal," Face
whined. "How are we going to get to the
van?"
"I'm coming up with a plan .
. ." Hannibal thought for a moment.
"He's on the jazz," BA
moaned.
---------------------------------------------------
Mary Sue watched transfixed
as Decker counted the minutes before his soldiers began blasting the motel
room. She had been on the far side of
the parking lot when they arrived and no one connected her to the fugitives
inside.
Suddenly, out the corner of
her eye, she saw a glint of gold from the side of the building. She smiled knowingly and began to creep up
behind the MP closest to her location.
---------------------------------------------------
"Ouch, that looked
painful." Face winced as Mary Sue took
out one of the MPs with a spinning drop kick.
"Yeah," BA said
admiringly. "Third-degree black-belt,
ya know."
"Oh. I missed that one," Face said. "I must have been in cardiac arrest when she
mentioned it."
They watched Mary Sue take
the soldier's M-16 and fire it in the air, forcing the other MPs to dive to the
ground. The diversion successful, the
team raced to the van.
---------------------------------------------------
Leaping into the van, BA got
the motor running almost immediately. As he started to drive, he turned to Hannibal.
"Mary Sue?"
Both men could see her
running across the parking lot to the van so she could join them.
"BA." Hannibal's word was a command, not a
question.
BA looked quizzically at the
colonel before a sly grin crossed his face. "Riiiiight, Hannibal." The sergeant pushed the accelerator to the floor of the van.
Mary Sue never saw it
coming. Figuratively, that is. After all, it was pretty difficult for her
to miss the speeding, half‑ton black van with red detailing that sent her
flying before it raced off into the sunset.
~fini
For people who are interested, the original Top Ten List of Overused Plot Devices was:
10. Face gets beaten / shot / raped / otherwise traumatized.
9.
Said beating / shooting / rape / other trauma brings on a flashback to Vietnam
/ abuse in an orphanage / abuse by a foster
parent.
8. Face or Murdock winds up "in a corner" during a flashback.
7.
The team's goose is cooked except they just happen to run into a doctor /
sheriff / other person who just happens to know
someone who
served with the team in Vietnam or was imprisoned in the same POW camp.
6. Hannibal considers himself to be like Face's (usually) or Murdock's father.
5. Face (usually) or Murdock thinks of Hannibal as their father.
4. A team member stops breathing or receives CPR and one day / hour / minute later is beating the bad guys to a pulp.
3.
Maggie Sullivan, Miracle Doctor™: Even though she is a rural GP, Maggie somehow
manages to perform lifesaving surgery
or
miraculously appear with a heart monitor and crash cart when needed (usually at
some backwater motel).
2.
The team manages to carry a dying member half-way cross country (or the world)
to receive the ministrations of
Maggie
Sullivan, Miracle Doctor™.
1.
Dougie Kyle, Ubervillian
Since I posted the original list, the following seven devices were added:
17. You Are My Sunshine. You know the song; you know the
cliche.
16. A "Mary Sue" joins the team.
15. The team members confess that they love each other (platonically). Also known as "I Love You Man" or "ILYM."
14. Face or Murdock reveals slashy feelings to the other.
13. Murdock's puppy dog eyes.
12. Face's eyes. What shade of blue are they
11. Face or Murdock curl up with the other in bed to comfort the other after a nightmare or flashback. Purely platonic.
