How would you end this?

[Lagwolf]

The Sage sat at his desk chuckling as he wrote down his latest encounter with his lifelong enemy and its efforts to infiltrate humanity. A veteran of the fight against the Great Old Ones and their minions; it was rather rare that he found anything amusing related to his task. But this one just had a tinge of typically British humour about it.
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“The Southend Incident” the Sage titled his latest entry into his journal of investigation. Happy with the title he began to type the events as he remembered them. What follows are his words to whom ever took up the fight in latter days.

We didn’t mean to find ourselves heading towards Southend on Sea on the South Coast of England. In fact I would have preferred to have been in any other place,

such as my lovely home, rather than heading down the motorway towards this coastal town. However, I have to admit to remembering some amusing times chatting to Southend on Sea's venerable MP Sir Teddy Taylor and his wonderful whiskers but I didn’t burden my colleagues with any anecdotes fuelled by port and cigars.

Unusually it was someone from the local council that managed to get in touch with me over the issue. It seemed that thanks to reading various obscure publications, newspaper stories about me and more than a few mythos tales from Lovecraft and others, he knew
something rather unpleasant was amiss. Or as he put it; "I have slowly come to the conclusion that some of our chavs are more than what they seem".

He explained: “actually I noticed some odd sorts about wearinghoodies before we banned them. They were rather too large for youths and seem to shamble in a most odd way. In fact it was on a bit of an inspection tour in a certain part of town near the sea that I first saw what I thought was a webbed hand sticking out of the arm of a hooded sweatshirt sir. “

“Deep one hoodies,” I said to myself, “as if the real young yobs were not bad enough for a town like Southend".

Before I go on I must include something Claire has explained to me, I sometimes miss out on background information when I write these tales down. I assume that anyone reading them knows both about me and the enemy whom I am fighting. She explained to me that when she was first doing research the lack of background info rather irked her.

I have gone to the Wikipedia for the simplest explanation of Deep Ones I could find.

Although the Deep One hybrid offspring are born with the appearance of a normal human being, the individual will eventually transform into a Deep One, gaining immortality “by default” only when the transformation is complete.

The transformation usually occurs when the individual reaches
middle age. As the hybrid gets older, he or she begins to take on
more and more attributes of the Deep One race: The ears shrink, the
eyes bulge and become unblinking, the head narrows and gradually
goes bald, the skin becomes scabrous as it changes into scales, and
the neck develops folds which later become gills. When the hybrid
becomes too obviously non-human, it is hidden away from outsiders.
Eventually, however, the hybrid will be compelled to slip into the
sea to live with the Deep Ones in one of their undersea cities.

One of the things not explained in the Wiki is what its like to be
near them; these hybrids, they stink of rancid fish. Its one
of the side effects of their path to transformation. The closer to
the end the worse it gets. This is why I was so surprised to hear
that pseudo-Deep Ones were actually going out and being seen in
public. They were taking a big risk or so I thought until we got to the part of Southend they frequented.

After we picked up our contact Dirk, named after Dirk Bogarde he
informed us without our prompting, we drove over to the part of town he
had seen 'odd people' about. While we drove he explained that they
were now dressing as “chavs” using the chav style of shell suits,
oversized clothes and large hats to cover up their odder features.
The chavs, especially the men, had a rather odd gait about them,
which rather seemed similar to the Deep One shuffle.

Claire jokingly suggested at one point that the influence might have been both ways and that the chav gait was in fact directly taken from Deep Ones they had encountered. What struck me as amusing is Dirk informing us that chavs of a certain age didn’t speak a lot either.

In order not to call attention to ourselves we remained in the SUV
that we had rented at Stansted for the trip here. We were just
observing the young men hanging around by the pier when I
lowered my window for a bit of air and realized why the hybrids
could be out in the open. The area stank of the sea and fish; one
of those smells that the locals probably didn’t notice but everyone
else had a hard time standing. Anyone who has smelt thousands of
dead poggies on the New England coast will understand what I mean.

It was soon very clear that our friend was right in his observation
about some of the chavs in Southend. The fact Claire had
discovered by reading the local paper that there had been a series
of disappearances in the surrounding parishes made it even more
clear what was going on.

“So what do we do then?” asked our host. “I doubt the Navy will be
interested in doing another Innsmouth here in Southend,” he
quipped. “No politician would put his neck out to suggest that…”

I thought he was joking at first, when he said the following>
“We really need to sort this out before the redevelopment starts. I
doubt they would be too keen on that down here. They could always
call in some helpers to cause trouble as well. We don’t want that
now do we?
I felt a bit daft at that point. Hadn’t bothered to do the research
into Southend; I didn’t realize it was set for redevelopment in
this area. He was right about the fact that they would take
exception to any sort of change in the area. Who knows what would
happen? After all there has been many a peer that has gotten
destroyed when certain denizens of the area take exception to its
jutting out into their domain.

The trouble was that in a town it was far harder to fight Deep Ones
and get them to clear off. They would do their best to sabotage
anything attempted in their areas and in desperate times were
willing to kill to keep the status quo. What was needed was a way
to overwhelm and get them to leave quickly. And that would be hard;
fortunately my colleague was not here to protest at my subtlety.

[JJ Burke]

they should sink a bunch of waterproof loudspeakers and play a constant loop of 'macarena' into the sea. it will either drive the deep ones away or provoke full-blown war

[Hodgson]

they should sink a bunch of waterproof loudspeakers and play a constant loop of 'macarena'

Or "My milkshake brings the boys to the yard".

About the story, give me a little time and I'll try to get back to you. At the moment, I'm busy contriving ingenious devices to win a story contest, for which I may gain honor, glory and a fig.

[Lagwolf]

Lol...like the suggestion...and guess what...I am going to use it in a slightly different form!

[JJ Burke]

i saved the day, hooray!!!!!

[Lagwolf]

Yep and its finished.

[JJ Burke]

did you change it here?

[Lagwolf]

Nope but I sent the story to Aleister to post. http://andrewiandodge.com/index.php/arc ... 9/08/4832/

[JJ Burke]

if only he would pop in once in a while....