ACT I "WENCH OR WRENCH"

"I think we should have gone left, Napoleon."

"Well, why didn't you say so?"

"I did say so," Illya muttered under his breath. "You looked as though you knew where you were going," he said out loud. "I suppose I should know better by now."

"It's not my fault that the air vents in this THRUSH base aren't built to the THRUSH standard layout," Napoleon said defensively.

There was an indistinct scratching noise from somewhere ahead. Napoleon peered round a corner nervously just as something brown and furry ran past him at high speed. "Aargh, a rat!" He yelled.

"No, it wasn't a rat," Illya remarked with a slightly puzzled frown. "It was a gerbil."

"What?" queried Napoleon.

Illya just shrugged.

They crawled onwards for some time.

"Napoleon, I think we are definitely lost."

"Pessimistic Russian! At least you're not ruining the crease in your trousers!" Napoleon complained.

"What do you expect if you insist on wearing a suit for every occasion," Illya retorted, pausing to look down at the boiler suit he was wearing. A frown spread across his face. "Strange, I can feel vibrations, but we destroyed the generator. They can't have replaced it already."

"Sshh," Napoleon interrupted. "I can hear something."

"Another rat?" Illya suggested helpfully.

"I thought you said it was a gerbil," Napoleon replied, and then withered as Illya gave him his most 'un- amused' stare. Napoleon cautiously shone his torch up to the next bend where he could hear the sounds of the ger'rat. "I don't know," he muttered. "Sounds awfully big to me."

Suddenly two heads appeared in view, peering round the bend highlighted by Napoleon's torch. The four men stared solemnly at each other briefly, and then the two heads disappeared.

Illya and Napoleon looked at each other blankly, wondering when THRUSH henchmen had taken to wearing red and blue boiler suits. They could hear quiet mutterings as the two men, apparently as surprised as they were, held an impromptu discussion.

"Illya," Napoleon began.

"Quiet, I'm listening," Illya told him, straining to catch what was being said. He could not hear much but he thought he made out the word "wrench" several times.

"Did he say "Wench"?" Napoleon pricked up his ears. He had a sudden attack of bravery and crawled forwards. "Hello," he called brightly. "We seem to be lost. My companion here thinks we should have turned left at the torture chamber."

The two heads reappeared, looking slightly bemused. "Torture chamber?" queried the red boiler suit. "I didn't know we had one of those aboard."

"Maybe he means the circuitry room," the blue boiler suit suggested doubtfully.

Illya, always quick on the uptake, was the first to ask. "On board?"

"Speaking of which," said the red boiler suit. "How did you get on board, we've been at sea for three months!"

"On board what?" Napoleon asked, completely at sea by now.

The blue boiler suit looked at the red boiler suit. "You're aboard the S.S.R.N Seaview," the red boiler suit informed them.

ACT II "VENTILATION SHAFT HAPPY"

"You're not from outer space are you?" The blue boiler suit asked pensively, taking a firmer hold on his wrench.

"I think they're nuts, Patterson," the red boiler suit replied.

"Well what are we going to do with them, Ski?" Patterson asked.

"Hold on," Napoleon interrupted. "I don't suppose you boys have heard of UNCLE, have you?"

"Uncle Sam?" asked Patterson.

"No, I think he means U.N.C.L.E."

Napoleon and Illya did a double take.

"You've heard of UNCLE?" Napoleon gasped. "No one's ever heard of UNCLE when I've asked them before."

"Well, that is possibly because we are a secret organization," Illya stage whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

"They might be a secret organization," replied Ski. "But my cousin Ben Kowalski works for them - have you heard of him?"

Napoleon and Illya looked at each other again.

"Erm, nope, but UNCLE is a large organization," Napoleon explained apologetically.

"Can we get back to the matter in hand," Patterson broke in. "How did you two get on board a submarine that's a thousand feet below the surface?"

Napoleon and Illya looked at each other and shrugged. "I'm just as confused as you, but do you think we could find somewhere a little more roomy? I'm getting an awful crick in my back," Napoleon asked plaintively.

"And he is ruining his nice suit," Illya added helpfully.

"Okay, we'll take you to Chief Sharkey, but no funny stuff," Kowalski warned. "I wouldn't want you to try hitting me over the head when my back's turned." With a practised shuffle Kowalski turned round and crawled his way back down the air vent.

Napoleon and Illya followed, with Illya admiring Kowalski's expert air vent shuffling technique.

Patterson followed suspiciously behind, clutching his large, red wrench, ready for action.

" You've got a great shuffling technique," Illya remarked conversationally to Kowalski.

"Yeah, well I should have, the amount of times the Chief volunteers me for this kind of stuff," Kowalski complained.

"What were you doing crawling around the ventilation shafts?" Illya asked Kowalski's feet.

"Chief said he heard some strange thumping and squeaking sounds coming from the ducks, sorry ducts," Patterson told them.

"It was probably us," Illya guessed.

"Thumping yes, but we did not squeak!" Napoleon said indignantly.

"I beg to differ, but you definitely squeaked when you saw that gerbil."

"Gerbil?" cried Kowalski and Patterson. "Are you sure you haven't gone Ventilation Shaft happy?"

"No," Illya was certain. "We definitely saw a gerbil."

"A very large one," Napoleon added.

Kowalski shrugged as best he could, then stopped crawling, having reached an opening in the tunnel. "Well, here we are." He jumped down into the corridor.

"What did you find?" asked Chief Sharkey, who had been impatiently awaiting the return of his two volunteers.

"You're going to love this, Chief," Kowalski grinned evilly. "Come on down fellas."

Illya dropped gracefully out of the shaft. "Er, hello," he held out a hand that Chief Sharkey ignored.

Sharkey waited until Napoleon was standing beside Illya before asking that all important question. "Where the hell did you guys spring from?"

"They're from UNCLE Chief," Kowalski started to explain.

"I don't care if they're your grandparents! They've no right being here - get them to the brig."

"They say we've got gerbils," Patterson informed him slyly.

"Gerbils! That does it. I'll put up with lobstermen, pirates, werewolves and even leprechauns, but damned if I'll have gerbils on my sub!"

"Whose sub?"

Illya looked up at the suave, sophisticated, dark-haired newcomer, wearing the beige uniform of an officer. He groaned, instantly recognising the type.

"Uh, good day, Captain. My name is Illya Kuryakin, and this is Napoleon Solo."

"Lee Crane, " the Captain introduced himself. "A Russian and a...?" He looked at Napoleon.

"American," Napoleon said smiling as he put his hand in his pocket. Patterson hefted his wrench. "Identification," Napoleon said hurriedly, offering his UNCLE ID card to Crane.

"U.N.C.L.E." Crane read thoughtfully. "I believe we escorted one of your bosses a few years ago. A John Raleigh?"

Napoleon shook his head, but Illya nodded. "I believe I've heard of him in connection with our London office."

"However," Crane handed the ID back. "That doesn't explain how you are here."

"We should have turned right," Illya offered helpfully.

"Of course you should have," Crane smiled sympathetically. "I'm sure you won't object if I lock you up in the brig while I make a few calls?"

Illya and Napoleon did object, but they rightfully determined that the matter wasn't up for debate.

When the UNCLE agents had been marched off Sharkey turned to Crane. "Captain, they say we've got gerbils. Now I..."

Crane interrupted him. "Chief, I think you'll find we're completely gerbil free. Could you check the torpedo tubes, Joe reported some problems."

"Aye, Captain."

Captain Crane made his way to the control room. He leant over the shoulder of the fair -haired officer sitting at the radio. "Sparks, get a message through to U.N.C.L.E. HQ in...New York, I guess, requesting verification of two agents - Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin,"

"Sure thing, Captain."

Illya and Napoleon surveyed the brig.

"Sparse," Napoleon commented.

"Shame the ventilation shaft hole is outside the cell," Illya said wistfully.

Sharkey muttered irritably to himself as he lifted the cover to torpedo tube number four. A small furry mammal with a long tail propelled itself out of the end, flopped at Sharkey's feet and squeaked indignantly before scampering off into the shadows.

"Ski!" Sharkey bellowed.

Napoleon placed his special lock opening button on the door. He and Illya backed away. Napoleon pulled out the button on his watch, pressed it and...nothing.

"Well?" Illya asked patiently.

Napoleon examined the button. "Ah, it isn't one of UNCLE's issues." He thought for a moment. "Karen must have sewn on the wrong one. It came off in the lift when we were...er...I guess we'll have to use yours."

Illya pointed at the THRUSH boiler suit he was wearing.

"Oh," was all Napoleon could say.

Sparks jerked his hand back from his console as a blue electric charge ran around. "Uh oh," he said out loud, recognising the symptoms. At the second crackle he propelled himself from his seat, forgetting he was still attached to the headphones which yanked him back to the radio just as it lit up like a Christmas tree before the bulbs go, and produced an effect similar to the Northern Lights.

Fortunately Commander Chip Morton's call for the fire detail covered the adult only remark uttered with feeling by Sparks.

"Two, three hours, if the spares are spare," Sparks said, before anyone could ask that time honoured question of how long would it take to fix the radio. "And no," he added to Captain Crane, "I didn't get a reply."

"What do you mean, your UNCLE shoes with hidden compartment are being cleaned?"

"They got quite badly scuffed on our last mission," Napoleon explained. "What about you."

Illya pointed to the THRUSH standard boots he was wearing. "THRUSH don't equip their men as well as UNCLE. If you were prepared to dress up, I 'd still have on my special shoes and suit with exploding button."

"We'll just have to use our brains," Napoleon said.

"Sure they're not being serviced at the moment?" Illya asked sarcastically.

"Have you got THRUSH standard issue at present?" Napoleon returned.

Admiral Harrington Nelson was reasonably used to Chief Sharkey screaming for Kowalski's head on a regular basis. However, the last cry had seemed even more strained than usual. And Nelson couldn't work out why Sharkey was calling Kowalski a gerbil.

When Nelson walked into the torpedo bay Kowalski was demonstrating his most injured pout, while the Chief was ranting and raving about...

"Gerbils?" Nelson asked

Sharkey did his best kangaroo impression. "Oh, Admiral sir, Yes, gerbils, in the torpedo tubes, sir."

Nelson opened the hatch to torpedo tube number three and cautiously looked along it. "Funny," he murmured. "Looks just like a torpedo to me. Have you been working double shifts again, Chief? Maybe you should see the doc. I'm sure he's got an injection to cure the hallucinations of gerbils."

"They're real all right, sir. Those flaming auntie agents brought them."

"UNCLE," Kowalski corrected hastily.

"UNCLE agents?" The Admiral thought quickly. "Kowalski, will you ask Captain Crane to come to my cabin."

"Aye sir."

Left alone Sharkey stared around the torpedo bay. He was sure he could hear scampering, and a small snigger. "Maybe I should see the doc," he said to himself. "I'm starting to smell custard."

Sparks held up two lengths of wire. "Blow me, it looks like something's nibbled through it. Hey, Commander, have we got rats on board?"

Admiral Nelson turned off the intercom. "That's the sixth sighting of gerbils in the last ten minutes."

Captain Crane nodded. "Maybe it's time we had a word with those UNCLE agents. And I'll get Chief Sharkey to put together a gerbil detail."

"Yes, do that. We can't risk them getting into the circuitry room."

ACT III "THE TRIBBLE WITH GERBILS"

The Seaview’s doctor lunged at the gerbil with a hypodermic needle. The gerbil easily evaded him, twisting its tail to keep balance. A metal trolley crashed over as the doc and gerbil engaged in a strange dance.

Nelson and Crane stood in front of the empty brig. "UNCLE agents. I should have posted a guard."

It wouldn't have made any difference," Napoleon said with quiet confidence from behind him. "I gather you have a slight problem with gerbils. I'd like to reassure you that we are in no way responsible for their introduction to the Seaview."

After a few moments of pleasantries it was agreed that the UNCLE agents would work with the Seaview crew and attempt to eradicate the submarine of gerbils.

"Sir, sir," Kowalski dived into the room. "I think they've got into the flying sub."

"Right," Nelson said. "I'm off to my lab to see what I can come up with. Crane, try to keep them contained."

"Ski, you and Kuryakin get down to the flying sub, then check missile room. Solo, will you come with me to the circuitry room?"

Everyone raced off in the appropriate direction.

Crane stopped in front of the door marked 'circuitry room'.

"Why the helpful signs?" Napoleon asked, having seen several door marked with their contents. "Doesn't that make life easy for saboteurs?"

"Ah, but we change the signs around if we're under threat. Confuses the hell out of everyone," Crane explained.

Napoleon nodded appreciatively.

They entered the room, and looked at the banks of circuitry boards. "Too late!" Crane yelled as ten gerbils leapt out at them. The two men fell back into the circuits and a shower of sparks flew up. The gerbils dived for cover.

"Fire detail!" Crane yelled, as small fires sprang up.

Napoleon looked in disbelief as three men rushed in carrying pocket sized fire extinguishers.

"Come on, let's get to the bridge," Crane suggested.

Illya and Kowalski climbed down the ladder into the flying sub. Bits of gnawed wire lay everywhere, and hundreds of dark pellets scattered the floor. A solitary gerbil, sitting on one of the front seats, turned and stared at them.

"I vote we leave him to it," Ski suggested.

"Possibly that would be the most appropriate action," Illya eventually agreed.

Admiral Nelson emerged from his laboratory carrying a small black box. "Ah, Sharkey," he called spotting the chief. "Just the man, Come and help me find a gerbil."

"Is this the first trial?" Sharkey asked, looking at the black box with some trepidation.

"Yes."

"In that case Admiral, sir, I'd rather find someone else to go with you."

"Nonsense man. Come on."

Round the next corner they found a gerbil. Nelson pointed the microphone-like attachment at the furry ball and pressed a button.

Ten more gerbils appeared.

Sharkey tugged at Nelson's sleeve. "Uh, Admiral, sir."

"Just a moment." Nelson adjusted a knob, and tried again.

Now there were twenty gerbils.

"Um, sir, I really think we should go," the chief advised.

The gerbils took a step forward en masse.

"Like now, Admiral."

Nelson agreed, and the two men fled in a relatively undignified exit.

As soon as Crane and Napoleon entered the control room, Patterson, at the helm, yelled a warning. "Steering's gone!"

Everyone crashed to the left, and then rolled to the right. One blue boiler suited crewman even took a nose dive over the table. Chip Morton grabbed hold of the helm and with Patterson together they struggled to bring the submarine under control.

"How exciting," Napoleon commented dryly, amused by the fact that he had only staggered slightly, while Crane and the others obviously had a harder time of it.

A crewman tripped into the control room "Captain, they're in the shafts in corridor C. We can hear them."

"Are you with me, Napoleon?" Crane asked.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Lee," Napoleon led the way out.

"Hey, Lee," Chip called. "Somebody tell me what's going on."

"Gerbils, Chip," Crane called over his shoulder. "You have the con."

"Gerbils," Chip muttered. "Very funny. I wish, just once in a while, someone would pass me the script."

"This is the reactor room, that was the circuitry room, that's crew quarters," Ski gave Illya a quick run down of the rooms they passed. It was quite unnecessary due to the labels, but Illya appreciated the additional commentary.

"So, how many times has Crane been possessed or brain-washed?" Illya asked.

"Lost count," Ski shrugged. "Here we are, the missile room." They entered only to be faced with a small army of gerbils. Both immediately went into action.

Imagine the scene:

Small furry creatures hurtling through the air, bodies crashing into storage shelves, first the gerbils gaining the upper hand, then the men forcing them back. Spectacular stuff, the kind of fight Mr Eastwood can only dream about.

"Open that door!" Ski yelled to Illya, pointing to the steel door set in shaft that dominated the room.

"How?" Illya asked, fumbling with the mechanism.

"Any which way you can."

The door opened, and the two men in boiler suits forced the gerbils back into the chamber. When all were in Illya slammed the door shut, and Ski pushed a button. There was a sound not unlike that of a giant flush. Water filled the chamber, and the furry bodies floated to the top.

"We missed a few," Illya pointed to the fifty or so gerbils advancing on them. He began to back away.

Ski ran to a hatch set in the floor, and started to turn the wheel to open it. "Lead them over here." He threw the hatch open, revealing a pool of water.

Illya backed towards it. At the last moment, just as the gerbils were beginning their charge, Illya stepped out of the way. There were fifty or so little splish-splashes. These furry bodies sank to the bottom.

Illya turned to congratulate his companion, but he slipped on a patch of oil and tumbled into the water.

"Illya!" Ski cried.

A wet blond head appeared. "It's all right," Illya said climbing out of the water, his soaked boiler suit clinging tightly to him. "I'm used to it."

[[Yvonne peered over Maria's shoulder. "I like it, but have you ever wondered what a wet Ski would look like?"

"Um," Maria mused. "Nice idea. Do you remember him in that white T-shirt?"

"I'll say," Yvonne dribbled. "And as for that pirates outfit..."

"OK, wet Ski it is," Maria said, mind made up. "That way we'll get to strip him as well."

Yvonne drooled in anticipation.]]

"Watch out, Ski!" Illya shouted a warning, seeing a lone gerbil charging towards Kowalski.

Ski moved out of the way just a little too late and the gerbil knocked him into the water.

"I hope this is appreciated," Ski growled, as he hauled himself out of the water, his wet boiler suit also clinging tightly to him. "I guess we'd better get into some dry clothing."

Illya nodded. "Strange," he said, having looked in a locker. "There are only shorts and white T-shirts in here."

"Try this one," Ski opened another. "Oh, very amusing ladies," he said, when he realised that all the lockers only contained shorts and white T-shirts.

He and Illya selected a set each and headed into the next room. Like all the rooms in the Seaview there was a large clear label on the door. This one said "MEN ONLY"

[["Damn!"]]

Crane and Napoleon stood below the ventilation shaft opening in corridor C. "Well?" Crane asked.

"Go ahead."

Crane reached up above his head and yanked off the grill. Abruptly hundreds of small furry animals fell down upon Napoleon and Lee. Their smooth, suave exteriors vanished as Crane and Solo began to drown in gerbils. Eventually the flow abated. There was a short pause, then a final two dropped out. One plopping on Lee's head, the other on Napoleon's. Napoleon pulled a warm furry body out of his shirt, it was promptly replaced by two others.

"The trouble with gerbils..." Crane began.

"...is that they do wriggle so," Solo finished.

ACT IV "LEAVING A PUDDLE OF CUSTARD"

"Seamen," Chief Sharkey barked. "What the hell do you think you are wearing?"

Ski and Illya turned around. "It wasn't our idea, Chief," Ski apologised, looking remarkably cute in tight shorts and a white T-shirt.

Illya was more relaxed in his similar outfit. He was getting used to this sort of treatment. "Where's the Admiral, I wanted to see if I could give him a hand?"

Sharkey willingly gave directions. The sooner the gerbil problem was solved the better.

Crane and Napoleon had managed to extract themselves from the gerbils. Crane glanced at his watch. "Oh good."

"Good?" Napoleon couldn't understand the use of the word in the current situation.

"It's about time for Admiral Nelson to make a second attempt at saving the day using his modified black box. It nearly always works the second time."

"Oh. Good," Napoleon said with feeling.

They met the Admiral, Illya and Ski coming out of the laboratory.

"I think we've got it," the Admiral said cheerfully.

"Oh good," Napoleon and Lee said together.

"The Chief's gone to find some gerbils," Ski told them.

Just then the Chief came tearing round the corner, shouting loudly. "Hundreds of 'em, 'undreds."

"All right, Chief, don't get so excited, everyone coming?" Nelson asked.

Everyone was coming.

Corridor B was a mass of gerbils, the noise was deafening. The admiral pointed the microphone-like attachment at the furry pulsating mass and pushed the button.

Nothing happened.

"%$*@" Sharkey said with feeling.

"Don't worry, " Illya said calmly. He reached over and flicked a switch. "It hadn't been turned on."

Nelson smiled his thanks.

As the beam from the microphone-like attachment hit each gerbil there was a goluping sound then, instead of a small furry mammal, there was nothing but a puddle of yellow custard.

"Thank you," Nelson shook hands with Napoleon and Illya. "Your help was much appreciated. Anytime you're passing, do pop in."

Goodbyes were said all around.

"Sure we can't drop you somewhere on dry land?" Crane offered.

"No, we decided we’d better go the way we came," Napoleon said. He hauled himself into the ventilation shaft. "Maybe we'll see each other around."

"Nice meeting you, Illya," Ski held out his hand.

"Yes, nice to know someone who has similar problems," Illya shook the proffered hand. He too climbed into the shaft and disappeared from view.

Kowalski replaced the grill. "Come on, he said to Patterson. "There's still the odd stray gerbil to track down."

Sparks ran up to Crane. "I've had a reply from UNCLE, but it doesn't make much sense."

Crane read the message then handed it onto Nelson.

"Stranger things have happened," Nelson said, screwing the piece of paper up. "Come on, let's find an alien monster at the bottom of the sea."

"I think we should have taken that last left," Illya said.

"You should have said."

"I did, "Illya muttered. "What's down there?"

Napoleon vanished around the corner. "A dolphin," he said when he came back. "Says his name's Darwin."

"Oh."

"Illya?" Napoleon asked when they had crawled on a bit further. "Why are you wearing shorts and a white T-shirt?"

"It's a long story. It involves me getting wet."

Napoleon nodded understandingly.

They crawled on in silence.

"Did you hear something?" Napoleon asked.

"Sshh," Illya listened intently. He looked at Napoleon with a puzzled expression. "It sounded like 'there's someone in Jeffrey's tubes’!"

 

The End...?