The Baker Street Universe Cool Stuff!

More cool stuff about Sherlock Holmes.

A facinating interview with the notorious Professor Moriarity, which will undoubtedly surprise you.

Other cool things at The Baker Street Universe! Go there or I'll have Houdini turn you into a flower!

Enjoy.

John

Rocketman, soldier of the future and the past!

Harry is Rocketman. Fighting the Nazis at the end of World War Two he is involved in a top secret project that involves the top minds of the time, one of whom is Einstein.

The project involves him flying a jet suit that allows him to fly faster than the sound barrier and attack behind enemy lines.

He and his partner, Jet, fly missions into Nazi territory to sabotage their factories and munitions dumps.

Secret Intelligence reports that Hitler's regime is working on a series of weapons that can bring the world to its knees, and its Harry and Jet's mission to stop that machine before it can start.

Harry's suit uses a new kind of fuel that compresses time and space to keep it fueled. There is a flaw in the system and Harry finds himself caught between two worlds, the real one where the Nazis are fighting a battle to be the first to have the atomic bomb, and the other world where the Nazis have won the war and subjugated all of mankind.

Harry struggles to find his sanity in two different worlds, with the same villain, but with totally different outcomes.

Will he be able to survive. Will he survive as Rocketman, the most powerful weapon of the Allied arsenal, or will he fail to stop the total domination of the world by the Third Reich?

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Dick Tracy vs. Crime, Inc. - Chapter 2 (1941 Serial)

"The Prisoner Vanishes" is the second of 15 chapters comprising Dick Tracy vs. Crime Inc, a serial produced in 1941 and released in 15 minute cliffhanger style increments. 

Saving New York city, Tracy and Billy Carr find Lucifer unconscious when they swim to shore and hold him in jail. The Ghost sends a fake doctor to examine Lucifer in the cell, handing off his invisibility device which the henchman uses to escape. Tracy chases the getaway vehicle but his vehicle slides off the road when oil sprays out the back of the getaway car.

(New) Some more experiments in Fractal Flames! Fractal Flame Gallery by John Pirillo

Interview with the Devil: Professor Moriarity...Part Three By John Pirillo

Interview with the Devil: Professor Moriarity...Part Three By John Pirillo

"The abyss of terror is never greater than that of the unknown which stands before you." Professor Moriarity

I flicked through some documents that the good Professor had dug up from his bedroom closet above the shop. I suppose you're interested in our meal, but only lightly so, so I'll brush over that and say only that it was pleasant and gave me more reason than ever to both fear and respect this master villain of the past. I say past, because he is not the same man today, he was in Victorian England...on that other world of which this interview mostly dwells, though parts have emerged into ours, but not so clearly, which I hope to explain as the interview continues.

What interests me the most is the eagerness of this man to expound upon issues of which I'd never expect a criminal mind of such vast proportions to dwell upon, so I will skip my own ponderances and leap to the rest of the interview.

The interview continues now:

"It was on August 1st, the year of our Queen Margaret, in the realm of Glacscony, that my father was born. A poor man of humble habits, but of brilliant mind and character. He was beloved by all, especially the poor to whom he administered. He was as you'll see a doctor, though not the one you find trained in the finer places like London, but one of hard necessity." Professor Moriarity explained, cradling a cup of steaming tea between his massive fingers, while Morina flitted about the kitchen, pretending to be straightening up things, while actually listening to every word.

I'm sure the young girl, who was not so young, had every reason to be as curious about her father's history as I was. I'm also certain that she was not what she seemed to be. For one in what appeared to be in their mid twenties, she gave off the air of someone of much greater control and intellectual development. I frowned inwardly, shaming myself for missing the words the good Professor spoke, but thank God I kept my cell phone on and never missed a moment.

"But that period of time was not friendly to the common folk. While the lords and ladies frolicked in their expensive castles and indulged themselves with fine imported wines and expensive foods, our people were just barely surviving, learning to live off their own sweat and blood and then having more than three quarters of that stolen by the Queen's tax collectors in the name of fairness."

He set down his cup, and I'm sure the next words were from an actual experience. "One day they came to my father's home, and pounded on his door, demanding to be heard. He opened it. He usually spent the Sundays of each week going over his potions and equipment, so he'd know what he needed to repair, or find yet again in the abundant forest nearby."

"Your father used homeopathic medicines then?" I asked, curious what he would say.

"Aye. And that's long before your hippies discovered the blessings of land and water in your own home country." He replied with a touch of amusement on his lips. Smooth shaven, his every expression was lit by a ruddy face, free of wrinkles or scowls, of which I had assumed he might have many, but was proven totally wrong over the course of the interview, except such times as he found something distasteful to reveal.

"You see, my father was part of a lineage that dated back to the great Paracelsus."

My eyes lit up. "That man is remembered in our world for many great things."

"And rightly so. His name came from the word meaning, 'next.' Which I later found out meant, next to God."

"Amazing." I uttered. I hadn't known that, even though I knew he was renowned during the fifteen hundreds for his knowledge of toxicology, medicine, philosophy, alchemy and botany. He was also considered an occultist, and believed to be part of a larger group of enlightened society, called the "Golden Brotherhood," who were famous for such men as Lord Byron, Bram Stoker, Blake, 

Shakespeare and many other notables I haven't the time or space to reveal here.

"Yes. He was close to God, as all such men tend to be. And he was also mentored by the great master of the occult, Merlin."

"You're kidding!" I  exclaimed.

"Not one tiny bit." He said, his eyes narrowing with amusement. I found that a peculiar thing, as most people's eyes widen.

"As you know from your own writing and research, Merlin, still alive in your Baker Street Universe, is a man of great talent and wisdom."

"Yes, I've always admired him for the great work he did in this country with the young King Arthur."

"Yes. Him." Moriarity softly said, then no more. He looked up. "My father answered the door and found himself confronted by the Queen's Men and the Tax Solicitor. It was demanded that he come immediately to the court."

"Why him?"

"He had a reputation that was growing and expanding beyond our tiny town. The Queen's child, her only child, King Edward was ailing. She was desperate and seized upon any and all rumors of those who might help." He laughed. "I suppose she would even have used Merlin had he been available."

"And was he?"

"No, he had other...work to do." He said in a hint of mystery in his tone.

"Interesting. So I suspect this turn of events led to your father becoming famous."

"More than."

"In what way?"

"He became the Queen's Personal Doctor, which unsettled the Royal Court of Medicine no little bit. I dare say if it wasn't for his intervention, in her wrath at their clumsiness in serving her so, she would have had their heads taken off, but he intervened begging mercy for them. But that didn't stop them from being banished from the country."

"But wouldn't that have hurt the people needing their service?"

He gave me that strange laugh again. "Son, your world is a miraculous place, but your people, even with all their modern medicines and devices are dying a slow death from all the chemicals these fools are pouring into you with the backing of the gigantic pharmaceuticals."

"Not all doctors are bad."

"No, but they ignore so much that is good, and the corporations of your country are despoiling the world far faster than any war might."

I considered that solemnly for a moment, stunned at the ferocity of his reply, then trying to get back on track, said. "So what happened next?"

"I was brought into the court and given the education my father never could. But alas, my education fell far short of what I had gained in my poor town. It was about etiquette and proper ways of speaking and eating at our plates. I despised the formality of it all and set about undermining such occasions in any way I could."

I gave him a surprised look.

"Look, son, the world is too short in our lives to waste it upon nonsense. The rich have their place, I'm sure, as do the poor so we can all learn to get along and learn from each other, but I do not now, nor ever have thought that foolishness was wisdom. The folly of Queen Margaret's Court was unbearable to me." He almost spit out.

He tensed, as if about to say more, and then decided against it. I felt a presence to my left and saw Morina watching him closely now, a look of fear on her face. I didn't know why at that time, though later in another interview, she did explain.

He finally sighed, and relaxed again. He leaned towards me. "It was in the midst of all that waste and folly that I decided to turn my hand to a more productive direction. You have heard of the legend of Robin Hood?"

"I have."

"That legend was started by me."

I was stunned.

"You see." He paused for dramatic effect. "I began the League of the Black Hand!"

And with that revelation I shall let my reading audience pause to consider all that's been revealed so far, and all that has likely been hidden. How could such an intelligent man, and seemingly kind as well, have gained such a terrible reputation in the world of Holmes. In my world there is a dichotomy of Moriarity's, but this man defied them both...the good and the bad. And you shall see how so in the next portion of this interview. I must retire now as my hand grows weary from the putting down of all these words and editing that which is not essential and frivolous, or perhaps dangerous for you to know.

Sincerely,

The Author and Interviewer

John Pirillo

Leaked Video from Marvel's Phase Four :)

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

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

As you know in the first part of this interview I spent quite some time hunting down the legend of the Black Hand, not for a moment thinking that it would lead me to the Master Criminal, Professor Moriarity. But it did. And not in the middle of a huge crime scene, but a humble shop dedicated to the Black Hand and run by of all people, his own daughter.

After I recovered from his statement, I settled back down, took a moment to sip the tea his daughter had brought me and let the statement simmer in the back of my mind.

"My name is Morina." The girl told me, as if reading my mind. 

Upon my look of surprise, she giggled, just like a child might, a look of extreme humor curling her lips. And I might add quite sensuous lips at that. I must have been staring hard, because her father cleared his throat, to bring my attention back to him. I looked that way and a hint of amusement lit his eyes for a moment, before he settled into a more somber tone.

"So it's the Black Hand you're looking for?"

I nodded. "Yes, but it seems I've discovered much more."

"Not really." He stated, as if I had just spoken a bit of nonsense. He leaned forward in a posture I would grow quite familiar with over the course of our interview. "You see, I founded it."

There it was. Another shock. I actually became quite scared at that point, as the legends of the Black Hand were not pleasant ones, but of brutality, rape and torture. He saw that in my eyes and actually laughed at me.

"Fools!"

I recoiled, not sure what he meant, then he wiped the smile from his face and caught my eyes again in that magnetic glance of his. The one thing I will always take from this interview is that stare, and how it drew me in like a magnet draws iron fragments. "Fools. Whom?"

He gestured all about him.

Morina refreshed our cups, and then left us to speak alone.

"She's a lovely child."

I was caught off guard again. "Who?"

"My daughter." He caught my flush of embarrassment and shrugged it off. "Don't worry; I've never killed a man for appreciating my daughter."

I felt comfortable for the first time after that statement, and then realized it was a veiled threat. Hands off!

I shook my head. "I'm just a simple author. I have no desire to date anyone."

"Are you saying my daughter is not someone worth dating?" He asked, a hint of menace in his voice.

"Sir." I said as I started to stand up. "I can see this conversation is not going the way I had hoped for. Rather than fumble with word games, I'd rather head for my hotel, pack up and return to America."

He tapped the table, indicating for me to sit back down. I hesitated. "That's not a request."

I sat back down. Hard.

I began to sweat profusely even though the room was not hot in any way whatsoever.

"It's this way." He said. "Many a man has assumed he has the right to court her, but only a few have that right in her eyes, let alone mine."

"I see."

"No, you don't." He said fiercely. "She's a Moriarity. We don't take lightly to fools or idiots!"

I snapped to attention. "And I...?"

He smiled thinly, revealing his sparkling teeth once more. "That remains to be seen. Ask your first question, even though there have been many already. I'm ready."

I set the cell phone in front of us, flicked the recorder on.

"Mister Doyle..."

"Ah, Arthur, I knew him well. He worked for me a time in my shop in Hampton."

"He worked for you?"

"Aye. He was quite young at the time and desperate for work, hoping to pay for his medical training with some kind of craft he could pick up while he worked."

"And you hired him?"

"But of course, I did. The man was brilliant." He gave me an amused look. "And from what I've read of his adventures in your Baker Street Universe, he's remained so."

I let that comment go. I had bigger fish to fry. "How long did he work for you?"

"Long enough for me to train him in the art of the science of deduction." He leaned forward again, his eyes filling with a kind of mist as he slid back into the past with his memories. "He was always the curious one, and when he saw me working on my various potions."

"Potions?"

He cocked an eyebrow in an unmistakable gesture that would've made Sherlock Holmes proud. "I live in this world only part of the time. The rest I live in mine. Where magic and science co-exist."

"But not in my Baker Street  Universe?"

"Were I to disclose that, I might have to end our interview...and..." Long menacing silence.

I hurriedly went on. "And so you are saying that he learned how to do forensics from you?"

"Oh yes. And much, much more. My daughter..."

"Wait, you're saying that Morina was there as well?"

"But of course she was, a daughter's place is by her father, where he can keep her from harm and protect her from the ravages of male hormones."

I laughed. "You don't sound so different from other fathers in that respect."

"I should hope not. A father's role is sacred. Family is always first."

"I agree. So you trained Mister Doyle..."

"Conan."

"Conan. Yes. In the art of forensics."

"Yes. And I brought him out on his first case."

Again I was shocked. "He never told me about this?"

"Why should he, he's not your Conan, but mine."

"Oh." I lapsed into silence a moment.

"One thing you must understand, Mister Pirillo, is that science and magic are just different sides of the cup of life. One feeds the other, as the other feeds the one. You have discovered the denizens of your...uh...Baker Street Universe...and before you ask, yes I've been reading your adventures. Could make them a bit longer, I might add. I just start getting into them and they're over."

"That's because most Internet people don't have the time, or are too busy to read much longer stories in one gulp."

"Yes. I suppose they are. Such a strange world this one is. No magic and lots of science. Mad science from what I see in the headlines." He leaned closer. "Do you think that Global Warming is solvable?"

"I believe it is if we act as a whole of mankind, rather than from petty needs and concerns."

"Such as collecting wealth and power?" He asked, that amused look back in his eyes once more.

"Yes."

"Good luck to you then." He said, speaking no more of it.

"Okay, as I understand it you trained Conan to become a forensics expert, but what about his schooling?"

"That was is schooling. Do you truly believe that any school can teach you thee practicalities of day to day life? Honestly, do you?"

I have to admit, at the time I did not believe so. I'm not even sure now. "I think it can, if a person is thirsty for the truth."

"Bah." He cursed. "Most of the kids are so self absorbed in their games and online chat rooms that they care for little else."

I started to reply sharply to that, but then remembered my own experiences as a teacher, and the children constantly stealing glances at their cell phones for messages, videos and so on. So even though I felt angry at what he said, inwardly, I sighed, because there was too much truth in it.

"I hope that one day they will get past that."

"As I." He said finally after some thought. "For if they don't, this world will need another world to escape to."

At those words I was at a loss to understand him, but I assumed it was just his own way of commenting on the dreads of our present world....loss of income, global warming, and terrorism to name a few.

"Okay. First big question."

"Fire away." He said using a finger like a gun to make a gunshot sound.

"Uh..." Momentarily caught off-guard, I quickly recovered to ask. "What set you out on the road to criminality?"

He burst into laughter so long that at first I thought he had gone mad, but finally he slowed down, and then shook his head. "Son, you have me all wrong."

I considered my next words carefully. I didn't want to end up in a concrete cube at the bottom of the Thames. "Uh...the Black Hand..."

He slammed a fist onto the table, causing our cups to spill their contents and blasted at me. "Dear God in Heaven man, have you heard nothing I've been telling you?"

I dared not speak.

He calmed down, and then leaned closer. "The Black Hand was the same as your own Baker Street Adventurers, but led by me. We were and are a society of explorers and criminal experts who seek to right the wrongs of the world."

I was flabbergasted by his comment. "Like?"

"Exactly like, except with no Sherlock, no Watson, no Houdini."

"My God" I exclaimed. Unsettled by this revelation. "Then why haven't I heard of you?"

"From whom would you have heard?" He asked. "Your world always dirties the truth, or beautifies the ugliness so the common person doesn't have to face reality. They can sit nice and comfy in their air conditioned homes, watching TV, and absolutely thinking about nothing, except the end of their work week, and eventually retirement."

"I don't think everyone's that way." I offered in defense of my world.

He dismissed my words. "Too many, or else there would be no Isis...terrorist groups...unjust wars, famine and disease ridden countries. Your world would be at peace and kind to another."

"And your world is?"

He sighed, and then settled back in his chair. He shut his magnificent eyes, and shook his head, striving not to let the passion take over him again. "Like yours. Lost in the glamour of possessions and control."

My cell phone began making a beeping sound. I shut it off. 

"I need to recharge my phone."

Morina came back into the room. "We have a plug back here you can use."

She must have been listening to everything. She gave her father a worried look, and then assisted me in setting up my charger and phone at the socket. She turned to her father. "I suggest we have a meal." She looked to me hopefully. "I make a mean spaghetti."

I laughed. "I've never had one of those."

She laughed.

Professor Moriarity rose and stood between us, again a warning to me to be careful. "I think Mister Pirillo might like some time to meditate on what we've discussed so far. How about you and I doing the cooking, while he sits here..." He eyed me for confirmation. I nodded. "...And considers what his next questions should be."

And that is all of this part of the interview. I'll return with Part Three and what happened during the brief meal and the interview later.

The Author and Interviewer

John Pirillo

War of the Worlds: The Invasion --- Mankind is not ready for what is about to happen, but two close friends will take on the greatest menace the earth has ever faced. Jules Verne and H.G. Wells.

 

The Invasion has begun, but now it's up to Jules Verne and H.G. Wells to stop it. An exciting new take on War of the Worlds as told from the viewpoint of writers who actually lived during the time of the great war.

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(New) It's Killing Me with Beauty! Fractal Flame Gallery by John Pirillo

The Man with the Empty Face "A Cartoon Story" By John Pirillo

The Man with the Empty Face

"A Cartoon Story"

By John Pirillo

Johnnie went into the comic book store, his eyes hungry for the first edition of X-Ray Man, an old golden but oldies comic book written by Jacob Bentley, an unknown artist and writer, who funded the book on his own. He was the forefather of modern comic book graphic artists, who own and do it all. But back then in the thirties, such types didn't always end up on top, but sometimes on the bottom, especially if it was the Great Depression.

X-Ray Man was a very strange hombre. He could see through walls and also walk through them. He could transport himself at the speed of light from one point to the other. The only problem was that sometimes he would exit inside a wall or bridge, or car, or whatever. Being an X-Ray Man, it wasn't devastating, but it was always funny...to others anyway...when he'd materialize in a toilet bowl basin, with only his had poking out of it. Made for some frightened people, as well as jokers who thought it funny to get stuck inside a toilet.

Johnnie had no illusions that he could pull off such a stunt, nor would he want to. Toilets just weren't his thing.

"And they better never be." Cartoon said into his right ear, whispering so softly she made every hair on his body stand up. She never failed to get him excited at her touch, or voice. She was a comic book queen...literally...who glowed in the dark, could see in the dark...and had magical powers, many of which she wouldn't tell him about, such as reading his mind.

"Hey!" He complained, gently pushing her back from him. She made a pouting look with her lips, and then giggled like a little girl and went to search comic books in the Wonder Woman section of DC Comics.

"See you in ten." He told her.

She nodded, already lost in the fifteenth edition of Wonder Woman and her exploits with her invisible jet.

Johnnie surveyed the comic shop's interior, looking for the Oldies, But Goodies section he'd seen advertised on the Internet, then spied a tall man with a hood over his head, thumbing through a stack in the corner. Above him it read. "Oldies, But Goodies."

Johnnie went over there, ignoring the man's rudeness at blocking most of the stacks. Instead, he reached around him and began sorting through stacks too.

The man bumped into him roughly, almost knocking him down.

"Hey, cut that out!" Johnnie shouted at him.

The man turned around. Beneath the hood was a pair of glowing red eyes, but nothing else. "Mortal!' Was all the face, if you could call it that, said.

Johnnie wasn't about to get into a fight in a comic book store, instead he backed away, the red eyes following him as he did so. He had forgotten he had a comic book in his hand as he did. Suddenly, he felt the shelving behind him, but instead of stopping there, he found himself looking out from inside the shelving, part of him immersed in the stacks of comics, and part looking out.

Several female customers and one man turned to look at him, thinking it was some kind of stunt. They giggled, laughed and pointed. "That's really emo!" One said, and then they went to the cash register to check out.

The man with the empty face stared at Johnnie. "You're the one."

"Maybe." Johnnie said, as he stepped back out of the shelving.

"You're the one." The man with the empty face insisted. 

"Cartoon!" He said loudly. "I think it's time to check out."

"I'm still reading about Princess Diana and the Amazons." Cartoon said, ignoring his pleas.

"You're the one and you must come with me." The man with the empty face said in such a tone that it made his blood freeze.

Johnnie side stepped the stranger and headed for the front. He slapped down a twenty. The man at the checkout eyed the bill. "You'll need eighty more."

Johnnie slapped down a hundred. "Keep the change."

"Thanks! " The employee said. "I will."

The man with the empty face came up and grabbed the employee. "You will come with me too."

The employee grabbed the arms to break free, thinking it was some kind of nerd joke, but when he looked up into the empty face, he screamed and then his entire body turned to a ruby red smoke and was sucked into the man with the empty face.

"Johnnie!" Cartoon shrieked from behind him.

He turned and saw a second man with an empty face gripping her. She was kneeing him in the crotch, but he didn't budge. His grip held her like a vise.

Johnnie stuck the comic book he had just paid for in his back pocket and rushed the second man with an empty face. As he was about to strike into him, his body shivered with a weird energy and he actually passed through the creature. It shuddered violently a moment, then its entire body deflated like a balloon, allowing a glowing red dust like substance to flow into the shop.

Cartoon hurriedly backed away and Johnnie rushed to her, but when he tried to touch her, his hand passed through her. She gave him a surprised look. "I'm X Ray Man." He told her grinning, and then turned to face the first man without a face. "You got two choices."

Johnnie held up one finger. "Actually, only one."

He rushed the man without a face and passed through it. The man without a face roared like a dying lion, a fine red mist exploding from its body and vanished as it deflated, leaving just a smoldering pile of red ashes on the hardwood floor of the shop.

"You all right?" He asked Cartoon, as he turned.

She nodded. "What manner of creatures are these?"

He pulled out his comic book, flicked through some pages, and then stopped, pointing a finger at a drawn figure there. She leaned over and took a look. "It's the man without a face."

"Afraid so." He uttered, glancing nervously about them.

"Let's get out of here while we can." He suggested, concerned for her safety.

"But what if there's more. We can't just let them loose in the world!"

"You're right." He answered, making a hard decision as he spoke. 

He ripped out the page from his comic book with the man without a face, and then several more, until no more pages of the creatures existed. As he did so, the back of the shop made a loud sound, like small cannon shots, then a horde of men without faces erupted into the shop.

Johnnie glanced around, not sure if he could handle all of them, and then spotted a Bic on the employee's counter. He grabbed it, flicked it, and then lit the ripped pages. The men without faces closed in on them from all directions. "You're the one. You will come with us!" They all spoke in unison as they closed in.

"Not likely." Johnnie said. 

"Cartoon."

She took the burning pages and tossed them into the horde. They all screamed horribly as they caught fire, burning as furiously as the comic book pages.

In moments there was nothing left, but piles of smoking red ash.

Then the fire alarm blasted and water began pouring from above.

=======================================================

Later as he and Cartoon walked home to his apartment, she stopped him, alarmed at his silence. "You were hurt, weren't you?"

He looked at her and wiped a tear from one of his eyes. "Yeah. Big time."

"Anything I can do to help?"

"Only if you can replace the Number One copy of Batman, Flash Gordon, Buck Rogers and a ton of other oldies but goodies that got washed into oblivion by the sprinklers.

They continued towards his apartment, she in amazement at how such trivial things could wound him, and he trying to figure out why he was cursed with bringing pain and suffering to all comic book lovers and death and dying to real people at the same time, while he transformed into various Comic Book heroes or with their powers. It didn't make any sense, and then he relaxed as Cartoon pulled him around and leaned into him, fixing a bright kiss on his lips. "Cheer up, Johnnie, its only paper."

"So were you once." He said.

She smiled. "Was I?" She asked and got in the last word, leaving him stunned and amused at his good fortune to be in love with such a cool girl.