Monsters, Dark Continent 2nd Trailer

If you haven't seen the first one, do it! It's very different and got him a gig doing a Star Wars movie and Godzilla.

Enjoy

John

Protein "A Journey to the Center of the Earth Story" By John Pirillo

Protein

"A Journey to the Center of the Earth Story"

By John Pirillo

"Yeah. Yeah. I know. The Journey of a Thousand Miles." Miles complained to the President. "But realistically, we've easily gone that far already, Mister President."

"Call me, Jim."

"Mister President. We have very little down here now to remind us of the Upper World, let's keep this little bit, shall we?"

"Very well, but after..."

Miles nodded, but as he looked away from the man who was growing to be a close friend, he didn't want to let him see the skepticism in his eyes and on his face. They were getting too good at reading each other.

"Still." The President persisted.

Miles saluted. "Mister President, I see my attention is needed up front if you don't..."

"At ease, General, go ahead. Do your job. I'll do mine, which is absolutely nothing."

Miles started to reprimand the President, but when several of his men looked over, shocked by the admission, instead he said. "Your job is never just nothing. You are the United States to us, the world. We need that symbol now more than ever."

The President wavered for a moment, and then also becoming aware of the attention on him, he nodded and gave a reluctant smile. "Of course. You're right. Go do your duty, while I stay here..." 

With a touch of irony. "...And do mine."

Miles saluted again and headed for the front of the marching men. 

"Don't blame him."

The President turned around and gave Smirgey a weak smile. "I blame me."

"That'll get you nowhere. I should know. I've practiced that philosophy for years. Look what that got me?" Gestures around him. 

The President grins. "You're a real ape shit, you know that?"

"Yeah. It happens."

They dropped back further behind the marching column, both of them noting the haggard look in the Special Forces faces.

"Really eats your heart out, don't it?"

"And everything else as well.

Smirgey puts a hand on the President's shoulder. "Big men are made by God to shoulder larger loads. Don't ever forget that."

Smirgey starts to drop back further.

"So you're abandoning me too?" The President asks.

"Nope. Just got to wee, is all?"

They both laugh and Smirgey falls back further and further.

Dirk steps beside the President. "Got some protein if you're hungry, sir?"

The President eyes him uncertainly. "What...?

"You don't want to know."

The President nods. "I most certainly do not. I'll pass. I need to lose weight anyway."

"Your call, Sir."

The President watches Dirk move up the line, offering the protein to the men as he passes. Miles returns, notes Dirk, gives him a nod, then joins the President. "Men like him make this work."

"Yeah. If we could only figure out what the hell work we're doing?"

Miles laughs. "Sir, you'd make a good grunt, but don't ever let any of the men hear you say that, because that's exactly what they're thinking this very moment."

"I'll remember that."

They both walked along in silence for a time, and then the President spoke. "Do you think any of this makes a difference now? The bomb no longer works. We have very little ammunition left."

"As long as we got brains and will, it's not over."

"But the Dark Matter..."

"I don't know why, Jim, but something tells me all that matters is our attitude, not the cause of the Big One, nor our goal of dismantling it from ever happening again. This whole journey from the beginning feels fixed somehow."

The President stopped and looked into Miles face. "Rigged?"

"Yeah. Rigged. When I was still a private..."

"Hard to imagine you ever being that."

"Now maybe, but I was, just like many of these grunts that are following us now. Back then I used to play a lot of card games."

"You were a gambler?"

"Aren't all soldiers?"

"Oh!"

"Yeah. You get it, don't you?"

"And what happened?"

"When I gambled?"

"That."

Miles looked away and began walking forward again, nodding to the men he passed as he and the President moved ahead.

"There was this jerk named Mahoney. A real cop out of life and living. He made his money by setting up dumb clucks like me."

"Hard to imagine you ever being dumb."

"Maybe naive better explains it. But no matter, I was stupid to his tricks, until one day after about nine months of losing to him, even when I had mastered every angle of the game. Even after seeing how he was manipulating the others, I still couldn't get it."

"Then how did you...get it?"

"He was drinking a bit more heavily than usual...his gal back south had abandoned him for one of his pals."

"Tough on a guy."

"Yeah. But you won't find me shedding any tears for that jerk."

"Why?"

During one of his hands as he was dealing, he lost consciousness and spilled over onto the card table, spilling everything to the floor. As it tumbled, his coat opened up and I could see this device strapped to his chest, loaded with cards."

"Winning cards I suspect."

"For him that night. Losing. The guys didn't take it as well as me. They beat the crap out of him."

"And you?"

"I grew up"

The President was about to comment, when the sound of weapons came from ahead. In moments the narrow corridor of rock and eerily glowing moss exploded with the movement of gigantic Insectoids. Intelligent beings that had evolved from insects. 

Miles and the President prepared for battle. Neither was excited, or frightened anymore. It had become part of the drudgery of the incursion into the planet Earth. Neither one knew how deep they were anymore, only that their lives were inextricably bound with some kind of forces that either wanted to wipe them off the planet, or something else. Something else that none of them could figure out.

"Look out!" Miles cried out and levered a fist over the President's shoulder and smacked an Insectoid in its right mandibled jaw. It cried out horribly and slashed a razor sharp hand at his face. The President ducked under it and heaved a bayonet knife into its abdomen and slashed upwards, spilling yellow and green ichor all over him, as Miles shoved him aside, then decapitated the creature before it could do further damage.

Up and down the line men fought for their lives, not because they had to anymore, but because it broke the monotony. Such had become the fate of their lives that danger was the only thing they could look forward to anymore.

Even Smirgey grinned as he fought off an especially large Insectoid with Cook's frying pan, smacking it across the chops, then over the head, until the Cook could execute a hammer slice with his cleaver, finishing it off.

"Thanks!" Smirgey said.

"No problem." The Cook said with a smile. "Lots of protein tonight."

Smirgey threw up.

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Interview with the Devil: Professor Moriarity...Part One by John Pirillo

Interview with the Devil: Professor Moriarity...Part One

Contrary to what most people believe and think about the Holmes cannon, there are many aspects of its villains that are not fully explained, and probably one of the least understood and perhaps even most understood is Professor Moriarity.

Born in the glens of Scotland to a poor family, he strove to build a life from the ashes of poverty that eventually led onto the road of crime as a master criminal, but what if we had spoken to him, been able to plumb the depths of that sinister mind, would our opinion, perhaps, be different?

To that exploration I offer the first interview ever with Professor Morey Moriarity, the original and one and only Moriarity, who was able to become the legend of many a story and of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's cannon of Sherlock tales.

It was my good luck to be on a small vacation in England, exploring some of the elder ruins that remain throughout the land. I was researching the remnants of the Black Hand, a nefarious gang of outlaws, who terrorized England during the early Victorian days, much as the Mafia has in our country and especially during the prohibition. But therein the similarity ends, for the Black Hand, though as volatile and vocal as Isis, they were a much darker breed of villains. They gave rise to the likes of Blackbeard, Henry the Eighth: the Wife Killer, Jack the Ripper, and the never forgettable Hyde.

How so?

That was what puzzled me, for it the Black Hand existed as some rumors had it, then how had they been left out of the history books for so long. I even went to the British Museum in a fruitless effort to find at least a scrap of history about the infamous Black Hand. But nothing. At least until I discovered a small book store called The Black Hand. 

Intrigued by the name, which I'm sure you would be as well, but a bit frightened as well, I noted the words: All Things Occult and Forbidden of the Arts. Above the door, but below the sign. Now I an overly brave man by nature, but I couldn't let this pass, not after flying thousands of miles of frigid ocean at dangerous heights. I get air sick quite easily, so it was definitely my form of bravery to put up with the hours of flight wherein my heart palpitated pitifully in my breast at the thought of the plane going down, which it seemed about to with every air current that buffeted us and every sudden announcement by the pilot that something was changing.

Getting back to my adventure, I entered the shop after many times wanting to just go away, even run away. If the Black Hand did indeed exist, was I walking into the very den of inequity I sought to expose through my writing and how would they take that, knowing I was onto them?

But surprise of surprises I was greeted by a very slender maiden with golden hair and bright blue eyes with a humble voice and demeanor.

"How may I help you?" She had asked.

"I'm looking for anything related to the Black Hand?" I told her, my heart still pounding in my chest, even with the sight of the beautiful young woman before me.

She smiled and did a slight circle with her arms, indicating the entire shop. "Here everything is about the Black Hand."

Now that almost sent me bolting for the door, except that at that moment an extremely large man entered and stood there behind me, not moving. Now I could hear my heart in my ears it was pounding so hard. Have you ever felt you were in the greatest of dangers of losing your life? At that moment I did.

"Uh." I began, not sounding very certain or bright at that moment. "I am researching for a novel I am writing. I was led to believe by a gentle, older woman in Brighton that Professor Moriarity was the founder of the Black Hand. I've always felt the man was maligned in the stories of Sherlock and on TV, and wanted to see if there was any way I could clear his good name.

She laughed. "Then you've come to the right place. Follow me."

I felt the large man behind me still. I dare not turn about to look, for that might be what he expected and was prepared to manage if necessary. Instead, I followed the young woman like a lamb to the slaughter, hoping for the best.

I entered a very well lit backroom with shelves of ancient tomes carefully labeled and placed behind plate glass doors. The room was gently conditioned by an ionizer to keep out dust and particles that might prematurely age the works. She pointed to a large table. "You can sit there. Would you like some tea? I have some Blackwood Tea, it's a combination of green and gold, that warms the blood while brightening the mind."

Surprised I responded. "Why, uh, yes, yes I would."

She gave me a knowing look, and then went into another room. I could hear her tinkering around in there. I almost felt comfortable again, but then the large man entered the room and sat down at the table with me. His hands were gloved in black velvet. His shirt was a black silk with a black tie and he wore black pants. He had a very nicely threaded black cape that was slung over his right shoulder. His hair was pure black, his eyes as well. There wasn't a single menacing look about the man. He appeared to be quite muscular, his eyes were sharp like an eagle's, his expression alert and focused. He wore an oddly shaped cap over his long hair that was pulled down more so on his right side, as if to hide something.

"You are Mister Pirillo?"

I was startled and once more ready to make a bolt for the exit, which he sensed and rose to block my way out. I had been about to rise, so instead I relaxed. 

"I am."

His eyes searched mine a long time. "You are aware of it all, aren't you?"

It wasn't a question, but a statement of fact. 

How does one respond to such a thing?

"Whatever do you mean, sir?"

He sat down opposite me and this time I tensed, but made no effort to move, or to appear distraught, even though my heart continued to race and I'm sure my face flush with red. "Do you give fair interviews?"

"I am known for being absolutely fair and honest." I replied. I never alter the words of those I interview. I have a perfect memory and even though I record everything, I always check back with my memory to make sure I didn't miss anything.

He leaned forward, revealing a narrow smile and pure white teeth. "Even with villains?"

Okay. That was unexpected.

"Here's your tea, sir." The young woman said as she entered. She went straight to the man and gave him a hug and light kiss on the cheek, then turned to smile at me. "I see you've met my father."

"Your..."

"Father." She repeated, the touch of a twinkle in her eyes and amusement on her lips.

"In a matter of speaking."

Suddenly, he reached across the table with the speed of an attacking viper and took my right hand. "Can I trust you?"

At that moment I would've lied to God Himself, I was so terrified of that edifice in front of me. 

"Uh...yes." I finally managed.

The room became deathly still and silent, then he let go and gave me an amused look. "I thought you were nothing less, else I would never have led you here in the first place."

"Led me here?" Now I was scared and confused. "But why?"

He took off the top hat he had been wearing and revealed a terrible scar on the right side of his head that had been hidden by the hat. He had been hiding something. Something horrible and something I shall reveal through this interview.

He reached out his hand again, but this time more slowly to shake mine. I hesitated. "I am Professor Morey Moriarity. The man you seek."

I almost blacked out. This was impossible. Not in modern times. Not in this day and age. And not on my earth. I reached out and took his hand. It was as powerful as a lumberjack's, but warm at the same time. He let go, then turned to his daughter. "I'd like a cup as well."

"Yes, father." She told him, and then vanished yet again into the room next door.

He leaned over and eyed me closely. "Ask away."

I took a moment to realize I had finally achieved my goal, though in a manner I would never have thought possible. It wasn't until months later that I had my interview with Sherlock, Watson and Houdini, so I wasn't as sure about the Baker Street Universe then as I would be later.

I pulled my cell phone from my right trouser pocket, laid it on the table and eyed him. "I'm going to record this if you don't mind?"

He shook his head. "The truth must be known."

"Very well."

I gestured over the face of my phone, and then activated the voice recorder. I leaned closer, pushing the phone between us so it could catch both our voices clearly. 

I gulped, took a deep breath and posed my question, expecting to be struck down immediately for my temerity to ask such a question. "Are you the infamous Professor Moriarity of the Sherlock Holmes legends?"

"I am."

(The Second part of this interview will be published later today. Be sure to tune in when I tell you Moriarity explains how he got the terrible wound to his head.

---John Pirillo, Author and Interviewer)

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Awkul frackin, simple tacking, muple macking, wickle whackin...WHAT!

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You haven't gone to take a look at THE BAKER STREET UNIVERSE yet?

It's becoming a fan favorite with all kinds of cool animations, movies, audio books, stories and more importantly real interviews with the heroes of the Universe: Sherlock Holmes, Doctor Watson and Harry Houdini to begin with.

While I don't update that one as frequently as this site, it gets a lot of juicy morsels you're just not going to see here.

I just finished my Interview with Sherlock Holmes, Doctor Watson and Harry  Houdini, and am about to begin posting interviews with some villains as well. HEY! Even villains have a life, don't they? :)

THE BAKER STREET UNIVERSE. Click me now!