From the “Weird” Workbench of Zebraoutrider

Colour Sergeant ‘Dude’ Stroller mounted the blue orchid and kicked his boot as the engine revved and turned over. Something in the distance had grabbed his attention. The C23 border checkpoint was so near, yet also felt so far.

The bike had brought him an incredible way on home-brew fuel, but now was the big decision. Did he wait till night fall, abandon his metallic blue, faithful companion and sneak past the HTQ guards, or would he just go for it on full throttle at high speed and hope to be sufficient distance past the barrier into no-man’s land before the enemy could react?

Then he remembered the wise words of his former cell mate and great friend Flight Lieutenant Mick ‘The GOAT’ Everest – “Dude, if you don’t have hope – you are hopeless!” and with that Sergeant ‘Dude’ Stroller readied his machine pistol and let the engine roar into life…

Another give away miniature to a great and supportive colleague who is reducing his workload this year with grander aspirations to one day ride off into the sunset…

Helga Von Dag wiped the sweat off her brow and smiled at her golden reflection in her valuable prize. It had been an arduous quest just finding the temple in the jungle and then negotiating the umpteen traps set by the Master Grimtooth once inside.

But, at last the ‘Skull of Maverix’ was hers, even though it has come at such a high price. She was the last of the eight-strong party sent by the Kaiser and doubt suddenly struck her as she contemplated how she would escape this tomb. However, her thoughts of the need for self reassurance and belief were soon interrupted as a flash of silver emerged at speed from the darkness, accompanied by what sounded like the flapping of large wings…

The dragon-like guardian that had stalked her and her unfortunate companions since they entered the pyramid looked down from its perch on the now decimated hiding place of the golden skull and let out an enormous screech.

Helga’s only clear thought was to run… fast!

Flt. Lt. Mick ‘the GOAT’ Everest knew that the only way to escape the Behavioural Nightmare Unit (BNU) was to jump the perimeter trench and that would be no easy task having collected the 1,820 components in his 35 year subscription to Bike World Plus (for which he could never stop buying if he was to build his own life-size BMW as advertised all those years ago in Issue #1) and still having no guarantee that the bike would actually work!

The night of the great escape came, with perfect conditions. The noise of the BMW’s engine would be drowned out by the urgently rushed building works on the BNU’s new reception area for more conscripts and victims.

When the night shift started up their pneumatic drills, the Greatest of All Time flexed his ankle as the throttle engaged. How foolish the authorities would be to have allowed him to have taken out that life-time subscription as part of his Personal Development Plan decades ago and to have not then foreseen how all these components could come together as an example of engineering magnificence – almost worthy of an International MEng (if only it could have been recognised!)

He would miss his friends but they all knew it would have taken a further 35 years to have built the sidecar for the bike and Mick’s spirit needed to survive, so he had to go now. Freedom was a short distance away…

Base coat of Chaos Black then layered with Macragge Blue, Mournfang Brown, Kislev Flesh and Chainmail. Dry brushing with Lothern Blue, Retributor Gold and Wraithbone. Washes with Reikland Fleshshade, Drakenhof Nightshade, Thraka Green, Nuln Oil.

Herbie loved his new owners. They seemed like a very caring group of friends. Not only did they take it in turns to drive, they made sure their automatic machine guns were properly stored and didn’t scratch the internal furnishings or leather seats. However, today they seemed a bit lost and needed to turn off the Best of Belinda Carlisle, get out and listen for the gunshots in the distance. That would tell them how far away they were from their prey. Herbie’s engine purred like a contented feline just waiting to get the signal to roar off into the wasteland…

“Where the heck is he?” thought Vicky “Either Monty is late or something had happened to him or something else has gone wrong!”

Victoria Valentine knew her tip-off was sound. A winged beast and a  glowing figure had been seen duelling in the Kirklees Graveyard over the last few nights during the full blood moon and she wanted to capture the evidence. This was the chance for a big break for both The Daily Chronicle and for her stalled career.  The stuffy old farts who ran the paper thought that the office ladies should remain in the office and type up the real reporters’ news stories and make cups of tea and fetch lunch. How she hoped for a time when women would be properly recognised for their talents and would rule the world.

As she stood by the cemetery entrance, peering at some green-like ooze disappearing down the sewer, a cold chill passed behind her followed by the distinctive flap of leathery-sounding wings. The dogged reporter flicked the safety on her machine gun, turned around and passed through the gates.

Captain Montgomery paused, flexed his biomechanical right leg, winced and then inspected his watch. The Daily Chronicle’s Victoria Valentine had personally told him to be at the Kirkyard Cemetery bang on midnight. He was on time, but where was she?

Zero turned his head, pricked up his ears and sniffed the air. “What is it boy?” asked his master.

In the distance, through the mist, a rhythmic banging echoed towards the pair, only punctuated by the occasional expletive as one angry voice chastised his grunting companion.

The captain drew his cane sword from its sleeve. “Well done lad. I think we are onto something…”