I created and own a forum about Biggles books (BigglesForum.net). I wrote this fan fiction for it. No idea of the date. The forum has existed from 2003 onwards. This is based on a real Biggles book, I don't remember the name, where they set fire to a hashish field and Ginger gets high. The opening scene is almost a carbon copy of the book!
Chapter 1 - Raymond drops a big one
Air Detective Bigglesworth D.F.C, R.2.D.2, A.B.C, C.3.P.O walked into the office of his boss: Big Honcho Raymond M.A.D, A.S, A, M.A.R.C.H, H.A.R.E and sat down. A few hours later B.H. Raymond walked in. It took him some time to see, known-to-his-friends-as-Biggles, as the room was dense with cigarette smoke.
“Ah, Biggles me main man, how's it hanging dude?”
“Good evening, Raymond,” said Biggles exhaling and lighting up another fag.
“Cool geeza, cool,” Raymond gave Biggles a secret handshake, that he had just made up on the spot. Biggles looked confused but played along with his Big Honcho's games, it was always best to humour him.
“What is the latest mission of complete madness?” he asked, lighting another cigarette.
“Ah yea man, cool, oh you gotta see this,” said Raymond sitting down in the beanbag opposite the low table with the lava lamp. He put some music on and Indian traditional music sprung from the speakers. He lit a joss stick and picked up one of the strange, almost triangular, cigarettes on the table. He handed it to Biggles, who looked at it with interest. It was much bigger than a normal cigarette, one end was quite big and the other end the usual size, he could see that it was made with at least three rolling papers, for those cheap type of, roll-your-own cigarettes. Rolled neatly into the end was some of the cardboard from the rolling papers packet.
“Neat,” said Biggles, with professional interest, “someone has taken a lot of time to make this, where do they come from?”
“Ah yea man, yea, that’s your err, mission like, dude. You gotta find these dudes and like stop them, or well, bring some more back for errr, like... evidence, man.”
Raymond took the large cigarette and lit it. He puffed on it for a bit and then handed it to Biggles.
“Now man,” he said his voice a few octaves higher in pitch, “try one and see what you think dude. Like, the research department said that it would be cool and like, you would go on a trip dude.”
Biggles removed the cigarettes he was smoking and put the big one to his lips. “Yes, another pointless trip to a land of peril.”
“Yea, cool man, yea.”
“Hummm interesting effect,” said Biggles, his voice also an octave higher. “When do we start?”
“Yea any time dude, any time, its all cool. Yea, bring back like, errr, evidence, you know man, yea?”
Biggles stumbled out of the office holding the big one. Raymond picked another of the strangely shaped cigarettes from the table and lit up, taking a big long drag and then resting back on his beanbag, foot tapping to the Indian music.
Biggles walked into his office where the others were waiting.
“What did the Big Honcho Raymond have to say?” asked Ginger.
Biggles sat down at his desk with a whimsical smile on his face.
“Oh yes,” he said as if suddenly remembering Ginger had spoken. “We need to get... evidence.”
“Oh not another crazy trip,” said Algy accepting the big cigarette Biggles handed him and taking a drag.
“Oh, I say old bean, not more of that dashed crazy mission stuff what?” interposed Bertie.
Algy handed the big one to Bertie, a look of surprise on his face.
“Yes, though,” said Algy, in a strange voice, “but evidence is always a plus.”
“Yes, but I say,” Bertie said, taking a drag, “these damn trips are too dangerous for the jolly old life and limb, what?” he seemed to meditate for a bit on the point and then re-joined. “Though I expect some evidence is always good.” He offered the big one to Ginger.
“You know I don't smoke.”
“Neither do I old boy, filthy habit,” he said handing the big one back to Biggles with an ironic look on his face.
“So I wonder what this evidence he wants is?” asked Ginger, looking at the others a little confused as they kept handing the big smelly cigarette around.
“Oh who knows, I expect Raymond knows what he is doing. We will get the mission started soon,” murmured Biggles. “Does anyone have any of that Indian music?”
“No old boy, would go down a treat right now, by Jove,” said Bertie slouching back on his chair.
“Hear hear,” muttered Algy.
Ginger looked at his fellow Air Detectives with an odd expression on his face. He watched as Biggles lit another cigarette but took it out of his mouth and looked at it in disgust.
“I say Ginger old chap,” he said, “go and get one of those big cigarettes from Raymond. Good chap.”
“Yes,” added Algy. “We need to make sure we know what the evidence is like.”
“Oh and bring some of those smelly sticks he has,” said Biggles as Ginger left to Raymond’s office.
Chapter 2 – The Deth-trap-o-smoko flies again
The Deth-trap-o-smoko amphibian aircraft wafted through the sky over the vast stretches of bleak landscape below. The sky was like a huge aquamarine dome settling into a distant purple haze on the horizon. Below, the featureless landscape of green and blue forest stretched away as far as the eye could see, to also be swallowed up in the purple haze. Biggles mused over the bleak view from the cockpit of the Deth-trap-o-smoko and thought it was all good.
He had chosen the Deth-trap-o-smoko for this mission again as being made of matchsticks from lighting his endless supply of cigarettes it could be repaired quickly. The aircraft still had its one engine for its plot provoking usefulness. Bertie was again stuffed into the tiny radio cabinet and the emergency cardboard Ginger was stowed with a massive quantity of cigarette packets to the rear of the plane.
Under the wings, they had strapped their meagre rations of bully beef and biscuits, as there was no room in the cabin for anything but the huge supply of cigarettes. Biggles was hoping to get more supplies once they got to the destination, as the supply of fags on board should last him for the flight.
He had decided again against the fag-packet-o-plane, as it was still unreliable for water landings, though one day he hoped to crack this. Ginger, or the emergency cardboard Ginger, he was never sure which was which, sat beside him. Algy and Professor ‘Donald’ Duck were in the cabin with the huge quantity of cigarette packets.
It had been two weeks since the meeting in Big Honcho Raymond’s office and once the evidence had run out Biggles decided it was time to make a move. They had grabbed the supplies and jumped into the Deth-trap-o-smoko. They were all unsure why Professor ‘Donald’ Duck was with them again, but they had quite got used to the quiet quacking and it seemed a shame not to have him there.
Biggles had refitted the Deth-trap-o-smoko with beanbags and taken out the uncomfortable ejector seats in the cockpit. He had also fitted lava lamps instead of navigation lights. The engine had been overhauled to run on Indian traditional music, which made a nice sound to accompany Donald's quacking, and which was almost in time with it. The only other addition were joss stick holders on the instrument panel.
Ginger looked out at the depressing scene below and tried to work out what was happening. He was still unsure as to the evidence the others spoke of but it seemed to have something to do with the smelly cigarettes the others liked so much. Biggles had assured him that it would all be fine when they got more evidence. Ginger looked over at Biggles as he attempted to fly single-handed and put together the cigarette rolling papers in the new fashion he had adopted.
Suddenly Biggles stiffened and dropped his rolling papers.
“Did you hear the note of the engine change?” he asked.
“You know I haven’t got used to the new Indian music sound they make.”
The pitch of the Indian music had changed and the aircraft started to lose power.
“This could be a bit of a problem,” said Biggles, lighting a cigarette.
Chapter 3 – Biggles finds the Dudes and the Evidence
The Indian traditional music started to get quieter and quieter. Biggles got some joss sticks and lit them, placing them in the specially fitted joss stick holders. He lit another cigarette to be sure.
“That will help. Ask Algy and the others to play bongo music on the emergency bongos.”
“Ok chief,” said Ginger squeezing into the rear cabin with the fag packets.
It took him some time to find the others deep in the fag packets but when he did, he passed on the message. As he went forward, he could hear the bongo music starting, with quacking in time.
“Things are picking up,” said Biggles through the joss stick and cigarette smoke. “Oh just nip back and get another packet of cigarettes,” he said as he lit another.
“Watch out!” ejaculated Ginger.
Biggles mopped the instrument panel and concentrated on crashing the machine, ignoring Ginger.
The machine was still sinking to the landscape, which at any moment was going to be covered in matchsticks and fag packets, but at the last moment, Biggles saw a tepee next to a lake. He banked steeply towards it, just avoiding the albatross that was trying to get into the engine. The Indian traditional music cut out completely but in the next moment they made a neat landing on the water.
“When you have recovered,” he said to Ginger, “you better look at the engine.”
“Ok chief,” said Ginger, strangely out of breath.
They climbed out onto the bank and walked over to the tepee. There were several people sitting about smoking the big cigarettes. Most were wearing brightly coloured clothes, shorts and T-shirts. Some had dark glasses on. Most had long hair like girls, thought Algy.
“Are you fellows 'The Dudes'?” asked Biggles.
“Yea man welcome, take a pew.”
“We are after evidence,” said Algy.
“They have Indian traditional music old bean,” said Bertie, who much to Biggles annoyance, had managed to get out of the mini radio cabinet again.
“Yes, it may help Ginger repair the engine.”
There were many strange boards standing up in the sand. Some of The Dudes picked them up and went down to the water in order to use them as flotation devices as they had a swim.
“May we have some big cigarettes?” asked Algy.
“Sure man, take it easy,” said a tall Dude.
They all sat down on the low canvas chairs. Biggles felt tempted to remove his flying helmet, as it was quite warm sitting there in the sunshine with a big cigarette.
“This evidence is very good,” said Algy.
“Yea man, the 'evidence' is good shit,” said a Dude.
“Really?” said Algy taking the big one out of his mouth and looking at it, he shrugged and put it back to his lips. “Amazing.”
Chapter 4 – Biggles meets Papa Dude
Ginger finished repairing the engine the next day but he still did not understand the Indian traditional music power system and a lot was guesswork.
The others were still sitting around the tepees with a great cloud of smoke above them. Bertie had gone down to the lake with some of The Dudes with a floatation board to try swimming with it. The trouble was that despite trying not to, Bertie kept knocking himself out as he usually did and The Dudes would have to leave him to recover from his bump on the head on the sand.
“I say it’s a bit hard on the old bokko,” called Bertie to him.
“Watch out!” ejaculated Ginger.
Bertie grimaced and turned back to trying to get another bump on the head or 'surfing' as The Dudes called it.
Biggles sat around the tepees, on the comfortable chairs, smoking. He watched Bertie knocking himself out again and a team of Dudes taking him unconscious back to shore. They were heartily involved in their group teamwork, to rescue the mad Bertie, each time his 'surfing' came unstuck.
“Ginger is very taken with the Dude-ette,” said Algy. “Strange how there is only one female Dude.”
“Yes, trust Ginger to fall for her,” returned Biggles. “I can't get over her blue tint myself,”
“Don't you want to take your flying helmet off yet?”
“Oh no, why stop when one is enjoying one’s self.”
“Hey, Biggles dude,” said a Dude. Biggles was pleased that they had integrated him into the tribe by adding the Dude suffix to his name.
“What is it Tarquin Dude?”
“Hey, you should like, go see the Papa Dude man.”
“Oh yes, Dude, where is he to be found?”
“Like, over in the biggest tepee dude.”
Biggles looked over at the biggest tepee, where a big haze of smoke came from the door. It looked inviting, and he wondered if he had enough cigarettes to get there.
At that moment Ginger ran up. “I have fixed the engine,” he said as his gaze fell mistily on the Dude-ette.
“Well I am off to the big tepee to see Papa Dude,” said Biggles, stocking up on cigarettes.
“Watch out!” ejaculated Ginger.
Biggles went off in the direction of the big tepee and lit another cigarette, leaving the Dude-ette to be cleaned up by the other Dudes and a red-faced Ginger.
“I wish he would stop doing that,” Biggles murmured under his breath.
He reached the big tepee and lit another cigarette. Stooping to enter, he froze as he saw inside. Sitting in the tepee was his arch enemy Erich Von Stalhein.
“Papa Dude I assume,” said Biggles, lighting another cigarette.
Chapter 5 – Ginger comes in useful.
“My dear Bigglesworth, you assume correctly.”
“The new big white beard suits you, dear.”
Seated next to Papa Dude von Stalhein was Dr Beautiful Garden and on his other side von Zoyton; two characters who had been written out of the story a long time ago but had decided to come back for a cool trip with their mate Erich V.S.
“All friends together I see,” rejoined Biggles.
Von Papa Dude Stalhein put his long cigarette holder, with a massive big cigarette stuffed in the end, to his lips and gave it a good long drag.
“Ah you know me, Mr Bigglesworth; I have come up with a way to take over the world again and it’s going to be a 'cool trip'”
“Thank you, I always count on you as a fiend too.”
“Ah we are wasting time!” yelled von Zoyton. “Let’s torture him!”
“Chill V.Z.” said Dr Beautiful Garden. “Let's just be beautiful.”
At that moment they heard Ginger outside.
“Ah your friends have come to rescue you as usual,” muttered Dude von Papa Stalhein.
“Watch out!” ejaculated Ginger.
And they heard what sounded like someone throw water over the tepee.
“A secret weapon no doubt!” said Dr B.G.
“Yes, a special glue that will seal you all in here together with your evidence!” said Biggles, leaving before the 'glue' dried.
“Looks like we are sealed in here with our 'evidence',” he heard von Dude Stalhein Papa say. “Just time for some more big cigarettes then.”
“I never thought that would come in useful,” said Biggles to Ginger as he got outside.
“Ok chief! Cool Dude.”
“Picking up the local lingo I see.”
“Well, the Dude-ette has been teaching me.”
“I bet she has.”
“Oh, she's lovely.”
“It will all end in tears, probably blue ones.”
They walked past a group of Dudes as they bought the unconscious Bertie back from the lake again. They were fully into their communal task now of saving Bertie each time he got a bump on the old bokko. The Dudes were always willing to work together for the greater good. Many years later, though none of them knew it now, you would be able to get little replicas of The Dudes with your petrol.
Chapter 6 – Ginger tells a story
They got back to the tepees and sat down with The Dudes again.
“So, we have foiled Papa Erich Dude Stalhein von's attempt to take over the world. What normally happens now?” asked Biggles, lighting a big fat one.
“Perhaps you could tell us the story Ginger,” said Algy, as the rest of 666 squadron gathered around for one of Ginger’s yarns.
“Well normally,” he said, sitting down next to the Dude-ette and starting his story:
Usually, when we escape from one of Papa von Dude Stalhein's plots we will end up destroying the community we leave and their way of life. The Dudes would never be heard of again and many years later, someone would visit the site only to find a few broken surf boards.
This time I think the bad Dudes will escape the big tepee by some cunning plan of von Zoyton, probably a secret escape route Papa E.V.S. Dude had ready to save his own skin.
Dr Beautiful Garden will throw some fast growing seeds everywhere that he has, which will grow quickly and the chaps and I would have to leave The Dudes. We will get into the Deth-trap-o-smoko at the last moment as the killer weed reaches our feet.
I will watch as the Dude-ette waves from the beach and gets swallowed up by the weed. And of course, my heart will be broken, well, until the next book, when I would have forgotten all about her.
“That was an interesting story,” said Algy.
“Well it didn't really happen that way,” said Biggles.
Chapter 7 – Biggles buries a seed
“Tell us what you think will happen this time,” said Ginger. “Oh hang on... Watch out!” he ejaculated.
“I wish you and the Dude-ette would do that in private, you better take her down to the lake to clean up.”
They went off, hopefully to get married.
666 squadron gathered round to hear Biggles' story:
This time I think the ending will be different. The bad Dudes will get out of the tepee, once they realise it’s not glue. Because they have had lots of big cigarettes in there they will want to be 'beautiful' like the Dr says they should.
The Dr will plant his seeds and we will have an endless supply of evidence to send back to Big Honcho Raymond, as a regular shipment.
The tepees will play Indian traditional music powered by the Deth-trap-o-smoko.
The Dudes will continue to live in harmony, with the community task of rescuing the unconscious Bertie from his surfing. This will eventually spread to the world and Dudes all around the world will sit by beaches with surfboards, in memory of the Dudes valiant actions in saving Bertie. One day they will even make a dreadful TV series or several about it.
In the meantime, we will all live for many years around the tepees in blissful happiness until we all die of lung cancer.
“Good story, what!” muttered Bertie. “Well, I know which I prefer old bean.”
“I know,” said Biggles. “It's a no-brainer really.”