"Small world, isn't it?" he said dryly.
"Pah! I have been betrayed by a rodent."
"Not Mongo Mouse?" Remo asked in mock-horror.
"He attempted to lure me to what he thought would be my doom."
"I see you got his scalp," Remo said, nodding toward the black cap the Master of Sinanju now wore proudly atop his bald skull.
Chiun adjusted the round-eared skullcap.
"I now wear the crown of Beasley World, so that none will dare to harm me," he said.
"Don't count on it. This entire place is a death trap. Further proof that the Beasley Corporation is behind the whole thing."
"A base lie."
"I hate to burst your bubble, Little Father," Remo said, "but check out the flag."
Chiun followed Remo's pointing finger. It was directed toward the Sorcerer's Castle. Its pennant-like flag chattered in the morning breeze. Its was white. The design inside was black. A black circle, adorned by two smaller black circles.
"Remember the flags we found underground?" Remo asked.
"Mongol" Chiun gasped in horror. "It is true!"
" 'Fraid so." Remo looked around. "The head cheese should clear this up. If we can only find him."
"I have seen nothing of Uncle Sam."
"And you won't. He's long in the ground. But someone's pulling the strings of this Punch and Judy horror show. My guess is it's the Beasley CEO, whoever that is. I can never remember his name."
The Master of Sinanju gazed about, his mouse ears like questing radar dishes.
"A chieftain might be expected to live in an edifice worthy of his domain," he said slowly.
"The Sorcerer's Castle," Remo said, eyeing its fluted spires. "Sounds farfetched, but at this late hour I wouldn't doubt anything."
The Master of Sinanju girded up his black skirts.
"Come, Remo. We will take the castle and wrest the throne from the wicked ruler."
"Come, Remo. We will take the castle and wrest the throne from the wicked ruler."
"Who are these buffoons?" roared the Director, pounding the console with his fist. It was becoming a wreck.
"No idea, sir. But Horrible House and the Tom Thumb Pavilion are no longer operational. We may not be able to open today."
"Of course we'll open! Sam Beasley World is open three hundred and sixty-five days a year, come rain, come shine."
"Not unless we can stop them cold in the next hour."
The Director stood up suddenly.
"Lure them into the Buccaneers of the Bahamas attraction."
"What good will that do, sir?"
"Do! It's the best damn ride in the park! And I'm going to be there to make sure those two walk the plank. Personally." He stood up, balancing on his silverfilagreed leg, and adjusted his eye patch.
"Yes, Director."
Captain Maus went to his microphone and began to issue terse instructions to the units in the field.
From every nook and crevice of Beasley World, they emerged. A kangaroo hopped out from behind a plastic toadstool and shoved his 9-mm Glock back into his pouch. A Transformed Tae Kwon Do Teen Terrapin popped a manhole cover and scampered down, leaving his scimitar behind.
Padded feet took flight all over the park. Every creature was headed in one direction.
"Look, Remo!" squeaked Chiun. "The forces of the treacherous mouse are in retreat before us!"
"Don't count on it."
"But they are fleeing."
"Looks to me like they're headed for the Buccaneers attraction."
"Then we will follow them."
"What if it's a trap?" asked Remo. "Not that there's any doubt."
"Then they will die, and you and I will enjoy the sights of the Old West."
"Old West?"
"Yes. The Buccaneers of the Old West. Wyatt Burp. Buffalo Beef. Catastrophe Jane. And the other slowpokes."
"I think you mean 'cowpokes,' and you're confusing buckaroos with buccaneers. A buccaneer is a pirate."
"Let us not dawdle, for the sun climbs high. Soon it will be High Noon, a portentous time for buccaneers."
Remo rolled his eyes and followed.
They approached the Buccaneers attraction carefully. It was in the shape of a galleon that had run aground on an elkhorn coral reef. A Jolly Roger flapped and chattered in the wind.
The greeters were jumping into the open cannon ports all along the ship's hull, which clapped shut after them. They ignored the tiny boats that sat in the water surrounding the mock-shipwreck.
"What say, Little Father?" Remo asked, when they came to the water's edge. "Walk or ride?"