And Now For Something Considerably Less Demented And A Lot More Insipid
Ugh. Another “fic” from the warped and possibly twisted mind of me. Mwa ha. Actually, there’s yet ANOTHER one to come, as the fics can be combined with playing stuff, so there ain’t gonna be a shortage of them. One more, in story-style, to find out which kind I’m best at doing: my own, “tribute” fics, story fics, or needlessly wasting space with egotistical waffle. Yup.
Anyway, this one’s on the SoL, which I don’t know the full name for. Hell, I’m not all that committed. Oh yeah, and no prizes for guessing where the title came from. As they said in the thankfully deceased “Pokérap”, why don’t we just HIT IT… *smack*. Sorry, Cyberwulf… no offence intended with the name.
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters in this are mine. No, not even me. And the bit with Meowth in, at the start, that’s… um… indecent. Don’t read it. In fact, don’t read any of this fic. It isn’t a fic. It’s a waste of time. If you read it, it gives you cancer. This fic has been linked to outbreaks of civil war in the Middle East. It has masterminded the world’s economical slowdown in order to bring the world to its knees to perform vile acts. Reading this fic is punishable by Jimmy Saville.
[As always, having enormous difficulty in coming up with a decent start to the fic, the AUTHOR thinks desperately. Suddenly, he has an idea.]
MEOWTH: *strolls into living room of the SoL (gaagh!)*
[Slumping on the sofa, the incredibly irritating cat moodily flicks channels, thinking of what obscenities he must have committed in a previous lifetime to warrant this incarceration with this Dream Team of total gimps. He also wondered just why he was thinking like this and not like dis.]
MEOWTH: *in a particularly poor cabbie accent, which I can’t transliterate*Yawn…
[Having surprise the world by yawning in a cabbie accent, the terminally bored feline stops as he comes to the Edgebaston Cat Show on Sky Pets. Spotting a large group of female cats, he looks furtively around, and, seeing that no one is awake, sheathes his claws]
MEOWTH: *ah, come on. What am I going to put here that isn’t illegal?*
[Suddenly, there is a loud CRASH, a spark or two of blue lightning, and a howl from Meowth who’s just had his claws involuntarily shoot out. The smoke clears, and the sofa is wrecked. (Those stains NEVER come out…”). Lying unconscious amidst the cushions is a figure.
Hearing the noise, everyone awakes and rushes into the living room]
ALL: Shit! What’s going on?
ANT/DEC/CAT: Aw, no! Not… oh god. Last time we saw HIM…
ALEX: *shakes head groggily* Where am I… oh, bollocks. Another fic?
[Yup]
ALEX: Ah. Um, where am I, then?
[There is a pause whilst AOI throws herself out of an airlock. Not through any spite on my part, you understand, just that it’s a goddamn certainty that I’ll piss Kate off to an astonishing degree if she’s in the fic. I generally do anyway, but still…]
SPIKE: *in a voice which in NO WAY resembles his normal manner of speech* This “cell”. The SoL: a big satellite. Think it’s bad now; wait till you’ve been living here for 6 months. Makes Big Brother seem like it’s slightly entertaining, it’s so boring.
ALEX: Yay. Why, exactly, are you all here? I mean, we’ve got an impotent vampire-
SPIKE: Hey!
ALEX: Well, it’s true. Then we’ve got two anime characters who play the biggest game of will-they-won’t-they since Bond first thought “Moneypenny: hmmm.”, a Saiyan prince who has a tendency to threaten household objects, a bipedal cat with what appears to be a large Yen stuck to his head, a pair of Geordie gimps (one of whom looks like a monkey and the other has stupid hair), a “sassy northern lass” and I think you’ve got Scott Evil knocking around in here.
VOICE FROM BROOM CUPBOARD: Hello? Anyone?
[The voice is ignored. The crew of the satellite thingy are understandably peeved, having just had their grip on their life weakened. However, they say little, as they also have some difficulty in getting their normal voices to work.]
JESSE: How dare he! “Will-they-won’t-they”? What does that little bastard mean?
JAMES: *wondering how someone who supposedly grew up on the streets as “Big Jess” doesn’t get it* Um, I don’t know.
MEOWTH: *still whimpering from the ill-advised attempt at “subduing the wookie”* It’s a charm! A CHARM! My CHARM! *and so on*
ANT: A monkey?
CAT: Stupid hair?
DEC: A sassy northern lass?
VEGETA: *putting down fridge quietly, embarrassed* I do NOT threaten objects!
ALEX: Whatever. Look, this fic is going nowhere. I’ll be in the kitchen, if anyone asks. All the decent jokes come later on, so just skip the next few pages.
SPIKE: *to VEGETA* Who’s he talking to?
ALEX: *storms off* Idiots…
[All the unwilling inhabitants of the doomed orbital colony (look, you try thinking of a synonym for “satellite”) gather in the living room. They look understandably peeved, as would anyone starring in a listless fic. Curse you, Kate. If it weren’t for her threats, the author would be relaxing on a beach. In Manchester. By a canal. ]
JAMES: I can’t take this anymore! There’s no POINT to this existence on this damn satellite!
[Jesse promptly beats him with a fan, as is the norm in their sado-machoistic, on-off relationship]
SPIKE: *muses* Well, at least there’s a bigger bastard than me on board…
CAT: So, we agree: we HAVE to get off this damn satellite. Any ideas?
[Everyone agrees, except Alex who has commandeered the only laptop on the orbital reflection device (another crap synonym there…) and is surfing the web, browsing through hacking sites… (remember this, it’s important). However, no one has any ideas]
ANT: Ok, how did we get here in the first place? We can reverse engineer it!
[Everyone is astounded at the fact that Ant has come up with a decent plan, let alone a complete sentence.]
DEC: Well, we got here after drinking 47 pints of Guinness, remember?
VEGETA: Actually, that reminds me…
ALL: What? Do ya remember anything?
VEGETA: Yeah… something about Guinness…
[He thinks hard. For quite some time.]
VEGETA: That’s it! I remember now! An acceptable substitute for Guinness can be made by pouring a pint of marmite into a glass and squirting shaving foam on top of it! *beams*
EVERYONE: What!? *they scream and punch him*.
GIOVANNI: *popping up on screen, to self* God, this could take a while... *to everyone else* Look, you got teleported here by a large mainframe computer with a new modem: we turned you into computer code. Happy?
[The screen blinks off, and in punishment for the characters incredible stupidity at not knowing this, a large picture of Vanessa White replaces it]
ALL: *scream, faint*
ALEX: Mainframe? Computer code? Hmm…
[Everyone wakes up around the same time, to find Alex grinning at the laptop screen.]
CAT: Oh god, if that’s what I think it is…
ALEX: *glares* Shuddup.
[Everyone giggles]
ALEX: You people need more help than I first thought… you’ve been on this satellite for far too long. You’ve gone all weird!
JESSE: *in background, shaking violently, to reflection* No, not never, ever kiss you!
ALEX: *stares* Yeah… right.*to author* Since when was taking the piss out of Avery Marx funny? Jesus… Look, just listen for a bit. You know Giovanni was going on about mainframes and computer code? Well, check this out…
[They all crowd round the laptop, staring at the screen. In the centre of it is a 3d model of Nick Morans head, moving it’s jaw in the two frames of animation it has been given.]
HEAD: Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha.
ALEX: *embarrassed* Sorry, that’s my virus. Look HERE:
[They crane their necks to look at the homegrown program. It appears to be a combination of a spare fingerprint scanning program (an essential part of any home computer system!) and outlook express!]
SPIKE: *looking decidedly un-amused* Oh, “yay”, we can send our fingerprints to people we don’t know. Goodie.
ALEX: *beating the vampire around the head with a spade* Yes, we can, but you know what ELSE we can do?
ALL: *bored* Do tell… *yawn*.
ALEX: *sulking* We can send our fingerprints to the mainframe that gimp with the cat has and get it to get US out of here.
EVERYONE ELSE: What? Free? FREE!
[They stampede towards the touch pad on the p.c’s side. Seeing as they were already crowding around the screen, it is a very short stampede]
ALEX: Back! Back I say!
[After the original euphoria has died down, everyone gets their fingerprints scanned. With a few mouse clicks, and a lot of angry punches, the program is up and running. The coded message is sent, and… nothing happens.]
ALEX: *eyeing angry mob* Give it time! Give it time!
[The rather pissed-off crew advance. Just before they reach Alex and rip his limbs off there is a FLASH, a BANG, a SNAP, CRACKLE AND POP, and the stars momentarily flash out of existence.]
ALL: Ugh… what happened? Whoa! Where are we?
[They look around. Grey buildings standing tall against the blasted skyline, hordes of zombie-like creatures shuffle aimlessly around, dressed in uniform dull suits with… owls? Owls? On the blazers? Oh, shit…]
JESSE: *hugging James* Where…?
JAMES: *hugging Dec* Wuh…?
CAT: *if I was suicidal, I’d put “hugging Aoi” here and watch the fireworks. So, “hugging Ant* Oh..?
VEGETA/SPIKE: *hugging each other* Hey…
ALEX: *looks around, is being hugged by no one* Aw. Wait, we can’t be…
ALL: Manchester… grammar?
[Screaming ensures. LOTS of screaming. MGS: the epitome of all that is evil and businesslike. Alex is lucky: he lives about a mile away from here, and could easily leave the other cast members to rot. However, for plot purposes, he doesn’t.]
CAT: Oh, “goodie”.
ALEX: Watch it, I’m the only one who has the inside information on this place.
[Everyone perks up, as if something INTERESTING is gonna be said. It isn’t.]
JAMES: I’m scaaaarrreeeeeeddddddd! Why has everyone got three dimensions?
JEESE: Yeah, why can we see peoples sides? What’s going on?
ANT: Yeah, hang on, I’ll check…. *circles round Jesse, noticing that she rotates to follow his gaze. Until he blinks, of course, then she appears to suddenly change position. He takes this opportunity to stare at her behind, for quite some time, all in the name of science. Heh.*
JESSE: *cottoning on* Oi, stop that! Gimp! *uses fan in a ballistic fashion*
[Little will be said by Ant for a while, as his face has become concave]
JAMES: *smirking* Hah!
SPIKE: Look, can we get on? The sun might come out any minute now!
ALEX: No, don’t worry: the sun only comes out during all our lessons in the French Block. It’s lunch now, so the sun takes the piss quite extraordinarily and hides.
SPIKE: Phew.
DEC: *having not said anything in ages, seeing as I’ve gotta give ALEX his money’s worth before I kill him off* Right, what now? (inspired!)
ALEX: Whoa, whoa! Back up! “Kill him off”? What the hell is going on?
[Relax, you won’t feel a thing. Anyway, it’ll come later when things go more surreal. You’ll thank me for it.]
ALEX: *panics* WHAT? I’LL THANK YOU FOR IT? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU ON ABOUT?
[Look, just shut up. It’ll be fine. Besides, let the other characters get a look in! You’ve had most of the dialogue/monologue in this script, anyway! Now shut up!]
ALEX: *still panicky* Why? How?
[READ THE NEXT FEW PAGES, IMBECILE! Jesus…]
ALL: *worried that they might be next if they aren’t amusing enough* Gulp….
[Spike begins to dance the tango with Vegeta, in front of the ice cream van queue. The heavily sedated pupils merely blink. And you wonder why I have packed lunches?]
ANT: Now THAT is desperate…
[Grrrrr.]
DEC: Waltz! Waltz, dammit!
ALEX: *shaky* Well, we’d better go somewhere, as this is getting dull. C’mon, meet the gimps of 4M.
[The all-singing, all-dancing, all-chronically depressed merry bands of “fic”-ers mooch (and dance!) up the geography block stairs to room P15, the centre of the DullSphere™ that surrounds MGS. Hey, Alex has got some reeeeeeeeeeaaaaaal explaining to do, as he’s been away for about 2 days and has now reappeared with a bunch of 2d anime characters, plus an impotent vampire. Oh, and some more gimps, I don’t know.]
ANT: What….. IS that? *points to the normal scenes of depravity that occur in the form room. No, I CAN’T describe them. They’re illegal*
ALEX: *offhand* Heaton. Come on, ignore him and help me with this lock.
ANT: Lock?
ALEX: To Mr Hands desk, you know. He confiscated my
experimental PlotAider™, so we need to
get it back.
[Ant looks
at the lock for a few seconds, and then nuts it. The desk collapses, but the
fu**ing draw is still intact. Luckily, as it doesn’t have a top, the PlotAider™ is swiftly recovered. Why was that
“fuck” asterisked out, whereas this one isn’t?
CAT: What
the hell is wrong with those people? *points to drooling crowd of apparently
lobotomized fourth years. Or third years, the holidays are kind of a grey area*
JEESE: Yeah, they’re…. *staring* at me!
ALEX: Oh, yeah, you’re women, this is a single sex school,
they’re teenagers, work it out. *swears at PlotAider™*
CAT/JESSE:
Agh! Geddem away!
ALEX:
*waves hand* Look, piss off, you morons. Go back to those creased and knackered
fully clothed Jordan pics you’ve got in the fucked up cupboard.
CROWD OF
SLAVERING MORONS: Aww.
ALEX: Look,
bugger off for a bit, your miniscule parts are coming up.
SPIKE: Heh
heh… *is hit by Cat*
[Spike
attempts to hit her back and then drain her corpse of blood, but it fails cos
of his chip]
SPIKE: Ow!
Agh!
CAT:
*having fun* Heh, you can’t hit back! *punches Spike again* Join in, everyone!
[Spike is
buried under a huge mound of people, all wishing to pummel him]
SPIKE:
AAAAAGH! Mercy! Mercy! Damn chip…
[The
beatings subside. A group of BIT PLAYERS walks through the door. Yup, it’s the
classmates… ah, how low have I descended?]
LLOYD,
AUTHOR OF BAFW: Wuh? What’s going on here?
WITKIN, THE
6 FOOT HIGH WALKING CORPSE WHO WOULDN’T EVER READ THIS AND SO I AM SAFE TO CALL
HIM A SIX FOOT WALKING CORPSE: *shakes McCorkingdale (you know, the
“distrusting bugger”)* Rat boyyyyy… Rat boyyyyy…
ALEX: *in
shame* Ah, god, fucking great, the gangs all here.
SPIKE: Agh,
fucking chip…. *whimper*
ALEX:
THAT’S IT! Spike, c’mon, move it! Come here! Everyone else, mingle.
[As the
door closes and Spike and Alex go off to the school canteens, Vegeta slips out
before the door closes and locks. In the background, Dec is grabbed by the foot
and dragged under a table by the denizens of the form]
VEGETA:
Where ya going?
ALEX:
School kitchen: read above.
SPIKE:
*clutching head* Ow, why?
ALEX:
*grinning* To disable that chip, temporarily…
SPIKE:
What? No, no surgery! NO SURGERY!
VEGETA:
Spike, you’re hysterical! *slaps him*
SPIKE: Agh,
thanks. *is slapped again*
VEGETA:
You’re still raving! *slap* Snap out of it! *slap* Snap! *slap* Out! *slap* Of!
*slap* It! *slap*
SPIKE: *overcoming
chip* Grah! *twats Vegeta in the face, and then collapses*
ALEX: Look,
just get that gimp up. We’re not gonna use surgery!
SPIKE:
What?
ALEX: Look,
I’ll speak slowly. Your chip is electronic, yesno?
SPIKE: Yes,
well done. What, exactly, is your point?
ALEX: *beating
the vampire around the head with a spade again* My POINT, is that any
electrical device can be rendered inoperative by the introduction to an EMP
field!
SPIKE/VEGETA:
**dazed and confused** What?
ALEX: We
put your head near a fucked up electrical appliance, ok?
SPIKE:
Ahh... now I see.
VEGETA:
Yeah, but where the hell are we gonna find a buggered up machine that can
produce huge pulses of energy?
ALEX: We’re
heading towards the kitchen, aren’t we?
SPIKE: Yup.
ALEX: In
said kitchen, there are many microwaves, yes?
VEGETA: Uh
huh.
ALEX: In
MGS, the microwaves are criminally ill maintained, and give lethal doses of
electric pulses to any untrained operators, *grins* correct?
VEGETA:
Cunning, very cunning.
[As the
intrepid would-be microwavers head off towards the kitchens, there is a
blood-curdling scream from the geography block. Then all is silent, except for
the odd gurgle…]
[Having got
to the kitchens with no hassles, the group of heroic evil bastards is accosted
by a strange, hunched figure]
POWELL, HE
WHO HAS ABOUT 5 WEEKS TO LIVE: *to self* Wow, that guy with the hair looks odd,
although I can’t quite put my warped and depraved finger on it…
VEGETA/ALEX:
Hey! *look at each other* Sorry, I thought he was talking to me.
SPIKE: *amused*
Heh, this guy looks like he could do with a violent death. Hey, you! Go to room
P15, and wait for about 10 minutes… We’ll be there with a surprise for you.
POWELL:
Wow, a surprise! Cool! *scurries off*
ALEX:
Righty, put your head against the microwave, and DON’T KILL US. Anyway, a Ki
blast here would destroy Manchester, and destroying that many… um, evil people…
no, just don’t kill us, ok?
[Spike lays
his head against the microwave, whilst Vegeta sets the thing up for a full
power BAKE session. Alex hides in a handy fallout shelter, as this field would
electrify his fillings, killing him instantly. No, this ain’t how he’s getting
wasted, so don’t look so chuffed.]
VEGETA:
AAAAARGH! The microwave canna take it! It’s giving off too much electricity!
SPIKE: Is
it warm in here?
[Vegeta,
misunderstanding, dives for cover. A few seconds later, the microwave stops and
Spike tries an experimental swipe at a passing first year. The sprog collapses,
clutching at his nose and moaning like a dying wombat.]
SPIKE: Heh
heh, I can kill again!
ALEX: *from
the fallout shelter* Yeah, but only for about 25 minutes! Get going, get to the
form room!
[They
sprint to the Room Of Shame, and Spike grins hugely.]
ALEX: Ok, hang
on, we’ve gotta get the others out first.
[He enters
the room. The other stars are strung up by their legs, with groups of gimpy
school kids throwing bladed implements at them. They scatter when Vegeta glows
orange and threatens to destroy their planet. With a handy switchblade procured
from an unsuspecting pseudo-scally, the crew of the SoL are cut down from their
enforced gimpness. Yes, I use the word gimp too much.]
CAT: *shaking*
They did things to us…
ALEX: Yeah,
they’re ok when you get to know them. Luckily, you won’t.
SPIKE: Can
I kill them yet?
ALEX: Yeah,
sure, go ahead… whoa, hold on. Hey, Leader, get the hell out of here!
LEADER:
Why?
ALEX: *trying
to alert him (as Kate would, well, not kill me as we haven’t MET, but certainly
swear at me a lot) without panicking the others- less fun for Spike* Um, ah,
dunno. Look, someone’s torturing a greyhound!
LEADER:
What? DAMN THEM! Where’s the nearest phone box?
SPIKE: *dumbfounded*
Look, just use the toilet cubicles nearby.
LEADER: *goes
out of the room* Never fear, greyhound!
ALEX: *nonplussed*
What the hell was all that about? Yeesh… lets go.
EVERYONE
EXCEPT THE MGS GOONS: Why?
SPIKE: *fangs
growing* Why? Look, watch through this window in a few minutes, ok?
[They do
this. There is much carnage, much bloodshed. Lots of gratuitous pornography,
too. No, not that kind of porn, pervert. It’s to push up the age rating, to
make people feel daring that they’re reading this. Or not, as the case may be.
Still, everyone in the room dies horrifically, to the glee of Alex. Gah, I’ve
gotta do something about my split personalities… eh, cue Captain Greyhound.]
CAPTAIN GREYHOUND: *flying around* Where are you, my grey hound of virtue? Where are your tormentors?
LITTLE MEN IN WHITE COATS: Come on, there are no greyhounds here….
[Suddenly, Dr Evil himself steps out from behind a bus shelter, holding a .44 magnum and a terrified looking greyhound.]
DR EVIL: So, Mr Greyhound… you have yelped your last yel… what the hell? Mr. Bigglesworth, come!
Captain Greyhound has found us!
[Huh? What
the hell is going on? Shit, are you lot ad-libbing again?]
C.G: Yup.
Hand over the greyhound, Evil, and you can leave here alive!
DR EVIL:
Never! It chased Mr. Bigglesworth! It will suffer for this injustice towards my
pussy! Cat!
C.G: Ok
then, you leave me no choice! We’re gonna have to have a particularly stupid
Pokémon-like fight!
DR EVIL:
Suits me!
[The battle
ensures. Masterful moves like “Greyhound Swarm” and “ *air quotes* ‘Laser’ “
are used, until Captain Greyhound vanquishes his foe.]
C.G:
Huzzah! We win! *the greyhound licks his face* Heh…
[Gah, damn
that cute ending! I’ll get you for this, C.G! Or should I say, Michael Leader,
for those who have no brain. Anyway, back at the ranch…]
MEOWTH: Eh,
why have I been silent for so long? My accent… it’s GONE! Yippee! Yay! *he
prances around, and then trips and hits his jaw* Ow! Damn! Dis accent is back!
Bugger!
[Everyone
ignores him. They are crowded around the large server from the IT labs. Alex is
attempting to hardwire the thing to send a message to Giovanni’s server to get
everyone there back where they belong. He is not having much luck.]
ALEX: *after
3 hours of getting bullshit from the machine* Agh! *he slams his fist into the
keyboard*..
SERVER:
BBZZZZZZ… *crackle* Assasasssssssszzzzzzz…. “That wasn’t very nice, Dave”…
BZZZZZZ *tchs* GZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzz
ALEX: Wuh? *not
noticing that everyone has ran away- the can spot a death scene when it happens*
ALEX: DEATH
SCENE?
[He is cut
short by a massive arc of electricity, which, as I said, kills him. Hooray! The
ex-crew of the SoL somberly walk back in.]
JESSE: Oh
dear. Oh dear oh dear oh dear.
ANT: He’s…
dead.
ALL: Yeah.
ANT: Party?
ALL: Yeah.
[Their
merriment is cut short by a booming voice, which appears to come from a neon
blue aura hovering in the air a few feet away from the corpse of Alex.]
VOICE: Hey,
wait a minute! This fic ain’t over yet!
JAMES:
C’mon, 12 pages! Give us a break. Who the hell are you, anyway?
VOICE: I…
am the Voice of the Fleece.
JEESE: *bursts
out laughing, as the author realizes he’s been neglecting the rockets* You
what?
V.O.T.F:
YOU HEARD ME. Look, this fic isn’t over yet. That was a bit of an accident, you
see. We’ve had complaints that the fic isn’t surreal enough, so we had to
transport you to somewhere *entertaining*. So, without further ado…
[The world
goes all hazy… the intrepid crew gets transported through time and space, to….
Wolverhampton?]
V.O.T.F:
Sorry.
[The world
goes all fuzzy again. The gang rematerializes… in what appears to be exactly
the same place. In 2D. Not actually IN 2D, that’d be vile. In two dimensions.
(Editors note: GET ON WITH IT) Ok, sorry, sorry.]
JESSE/JAMES/VEGETA/MEOWTH:
Yay! 2D! Beats 3D any day!
SPIKE/ANT/CAT/DEC:
AAARGH! 2D!
[It seems
that we have a stand off. Which is better: 2D or 3D? They won’t decide…]
ALEX: *groggy*
Wuh? AKK! Why the HELL am I 2D? *pauses* Why the HELL am I not in HELL?
SPIKE/ANT/DEC/CAT:
Hah, we win!
JESSE/JAMES/VEGETA/MEOWTH:
Grrrrr.
ALEX: Hello?
I’ve just DIED here!
CAT: *waving
hand* Oh, yeah, right, of course, forgot about that. How was it?
ALEX: How…
HOW WAS IT? *fumes*
JAMES: Hey,
this place looks like… no, it can’t be!
JESSE:
Saffron city? But it looks… corrupt…
[The camera
pans out to reveal a large, yellow town. God knows why it’s yellow; all the
towns from Pokémon have some kind of colour scheme.
Except Pallet town. I dunno, you tell me why it’s yellow. Ahem.]
JAMES: This
isn’t the corrupt, crime-ridden mess we left… this is a whole NEW corrupt,
crime-ridden mess!
[As the
camera moves in again, we see a Pokémon trainer with a Jynx in a cat suit
talking to someone. The trainer becomes agitated as the man he’s talking to
nervously walks off.]
TRAINER: Dammit, Kat! [Hehe, sorry, feel free
to change this] That’s the third customer you lost! Yo stupid ho! You gotta
work harder!
JYNX: *annoyed*
Jynx! Jynx jynx jynx! Jynx jynx!
TRAINER:
Look, it’s only until I can get some work! Now look sharp, bitch, here’s some
potential customers!
[The
astonished stars wander around to the Jynx]
JESSE: *astonished*
Hey, um, you! Hand over the Jynx! Now!
TRAINER:
Hey, gonna cost ya! It don’t go givin’ freebies!
JYNX: *coyly,
to Ant* Jynnnnxxxxx…
ANT: *recoiling*
Ugh! Get away!
DEC: *counting
through his wallet, whispers to Trainer* Eh, how much?
TRAINER:
Yo, I don’t take that foreign SHIT, you got no YEN, you get no JYNX! Damn, I
wish there was a Pokémon that rhymed with yen….
CAT: *beating
Dec with a shovel* Pervert. Get away from him, Jynxy.
JYNX: *annoyed*
Jynx! Jy- sonofabitch- nx!
VEGETA: *trying
to keep some sanity* Look, we don’t want your sick Prosto-mon. Get away from
us!
TRAINER: *winks*
Oho, got yo drift, brother. Here we go… *releases Nidoking from it’s ball*
VEGETA: No!
You don’t get it! Piss off!
TRAINER:
Ah, no men, then? Righto… *releases Mareep from it’s ball*
MAREEP: *bleats
coyly*
VEGETA:
AGH! NO! GET. AWAY. FROM. ME!
[The group
of stunned fic-ers sprint away from the perverted trainer. The trainer isn’t
too happy, but brightens up when he spots Ash Ketchum snaking furtively towards
him…]
SPIKE: *panting*
And they sell this stuff to KIDS? They have CARDS?
JESSE:
Beats me. It wasn’t like this when we… hey, how DID we get on the SoL?
JAMES:
Warped, as always. I hear that some girl Giovanni liked had a fixation with our
cartoon… we got sent up for kicks. I heard they broke up a while ago, so he
sent her too.
JESSE:
Yeah? What was she called?
JAMES: *does
Austin Powers “I’m going to get you some Orange Sheeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrberrrrrrrrrrrrttttttttttttttt”
look* I do not have any recollection of her name.
JESSE: *ditto*
No, nor do I.
[Thanks]
DEC: *in
heaven, by the looks of things* Hey, are we gonna have a look around, then?
ANT: Yeah!
There’s loads to see in an imaginary city in which the people enslave small
animals and make them fight for fun! It’s a small step from here to illegal
cock fighting, and you know it.
CAT: I
agree. Lets just try to get the hell out of here.
[I’m afraid
I can’t let you do that.]
CAT: You
what?
[Plot
reasons. Hey, you’re in another fic after this, so you have to stay for a bit
longer]
CAT: Oh,
that’s just fucking great. Another one?
[Yup]
SPIKE: Gah…
well, lets get this over with. “Oh look, a large gym like object. Let us go to
see what this large gym-like object is”.
VEGETA:
“Yes, let us go now.”
ALEX: Oh,
yeah, whatever. There’s a moonshiner nearby, so I’m gonna see if I can blind
myself with some neat wood alcohol.
ANT/DEC:
Yeah, ditto. Bye, you lot.
[Everyone
considers this for a while. The scene fades to black]
[Oh dear.
He wasn’t kidding when he said “pure wood alcohol”. This is not a pretty sight]
JAMES:
Oww….. the world is spinning too fast…
ALL: “I’m
fond of lead Nike shoes (we think), to keep myself tethered, to the days I
tried to lose…” *slump*
READERS:
Gorillaz?
[Yup. Hey,
I’m going to take this opportunity to make a request. If you’ve read my
previous fic, then you’ll know of a certain… musical handicap. If you HAVEN’T,
then go go go! Read it!
Anyway, I
implore you to recommend music and bands to me, seeing as MP3’s are free… Go
on, mail me at alexloderandfez@hotmail.com
and gimme ideas! Oh yeah, and I’d appreciate the REAL lyrics to 19/2000]
SPIKE: Hey,
this is OUR fic.
[Sorry]
NOODLE:
Haaaiii! Wahghaghahh HAH!
ALL:
Aahhhhh!
[Noodle
vanishes. The rest of Gorillaz drive by in a new Winnebago, or whatever, and
the cast begin drinking again]
DEC: *after
4 bottles of meths, slurring* Mee and Cattt… all alone in the gutter… I feel as
tho… I’m gonna KISSER.
[Unfortunately,
Cat is too wasted to resist. Naturally, as this pushes the boundaries of good
taste to their very limits, I’m going to detail it in microscopic detail.]
CAT: *comatose*
Guuuhhh….
DEC: *moves
in for the kill* Heh heh eh hye heh heh…..
[He is cut
short in his drunken gropings by a large boot. A large and disgruntled man,
carrying a large mallet owns this boot.]
ANT: Ohh,
ya for it now, mate….
[Yeah, and
you’ll notice how drunk people really don’t talk like this. Hey, maybe it’s my
metabolism, but I’ve never been really plastered, so I wouldn’t know. Oh yeah,
and even I wouldn’t drink Ouza (that Spanish stuff), or whatever it’s called,
so shame on you!]
LARGE
DISGRUNTLED MAN: Alright, street trash, you’re comin’ with us. Boys! Round ‘em
up!
[A large
group of disgruntled men with assorted sized mallets round up the drunken and
depressed group of, well, drunks. They’re bundled into a van, and taken away to
the Saffron City Jail…(estd. 1987)]
ALEX: *clutches
head* Agh. AAAAAGh. AAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH. *beats head on wall*
SPIKE: Um,
(owww), where exactly are (owwwwwwwwww) we?
[They look
around, and as their eyes slowly get used to the gloom, they make out ratattas
everywhere, gnawing on any exposed flesh, like ya do. Water drips,
guards snarl, and Jesse and James are nowhere to be seen.]
VEGETA:
Hey, where the hell are they?
[As if in
answer, there is a girlish shriek from the guards’ quarter]
ANT: Oh my
god! They’re ravishing James!
DEC: Ugh.
No, hang on….
[Hey, just
like in the movies, their hangovers have vanished! Hmm… I know! Lets replace
them!]
ALL: *screams,
clutch heads*
[AND… off]
ALL: Phew….
[ON]
ALL: *scream*
[OFF. Ok,
enough torture.]
ALL: Phew.
[Kidding!]
ALL:
Nooooooooooo!
EDITOR: Get
on with it, cretin!
[Sorry. Ok,
hangovers off.]
CAT: Hey,
look there! Through the bars! There’s Jesse and James!
[They peer
through the bars, and spot Jesse and James being forced to dance for the
amusement of the guards!]
GUARDS:
Dance, monkey boy! Dance!
JESSE: Agh!
Being forced to dance in a flamenco dress for these people!
JAMES:
Yeah, it sucks! *twirls*
CAT: Heh….
That’s pretty good, actually.
[The
inmates watch the dancing for a while, until a stray bucket of water, thrown by
the Voice of the Fleece (in order to motivate the buggers), snaps them out of
their reverie]
VEGETA:
Agh, locked up in this little cell! I can’t take it any more!
SPIKE:
Yeah, we’ve gotta get out!
CAT: Oh,
and how? Bail?
SPIKE:
Look, babe, I’m just a 2D vampire, out in the sun, who hasn’t eaten in 18
pages. Except for those 4th years.
CAT: *disregarding
the cursory attempt at getting Spike to speak in his normal style* Well, don’t
ask me, dumbfuck. So, how are we supposed to get out of here, then? OI! You! At
the keyboard! What happens now?
[I dunno.
You gimps got yourselves into this mess. What have I told you about ad-libbing
your lines?]
ALL:
Sorry….
VOICE:
Never fear, I’ll get you out!
ALL: What?
[And there.
Standing in the wreckage of the door, is…]
CAPTAIN
GREYHOUND: ‘Tis me! Captain Greyhound, scourge of all animal cruelty! To
greyhounds.
VEGETA:
Well, I was about to suggest me blasting a hole in the wall with a Ki blast,
but…
ALEX: *to
AUTHOR* Hey, what the hell are you on about? You’ve seen Dragonball Z, what,
once? And even then they were running away from a tornado.
[Yeah, but
I read the reviews of all the Japanese Dragonball SNES games, so hah. And
Ramna, but that’s beside the point.]
C.G: Can we
go now? I’ll pick up your friends, and we can go.
[In a blur,
the masked, ginger superhero calls forth hordes of greyhounds to overcome the
guards. Unfortunately, they notice a Nidoran in the distance, and streak off to
chase it, leaving the Captain to take on the guards on his own. Luckily, he has
one last trick up his sleeve…]
C.G: *blue
lights swirling around him….* Go, GREYHOUND POWER!
[God. How
long can I keep this joke going for? Quite a while, it seems.]
C.G:
Hiiiiiiiyaaaaaaa!
[But wait!
These dogs are not grey!]
C.G: Who
cares? Santa’s Little Helper isn’t!
[Ah, ok.
The power of the greyhound suffuses the good captain, and he deals with the
guards easily.]
[Gah, I’m
starting to wonder what the outside looks like, so I’m gonna try to wrap this
fic up soon. Lucky for you, I suppose. Anyway, there’s gonna be a sequel, so
fret not.]
CAT: *to
the captain* Wow…. *thank you* so much!
C.G: *boldly*
It was nothing! Now, I must depart!
[He flies
off, no doubt hearing the plaintive bark of a menaced dog. Either that, or his
mysterious, never-to-be named blue-haired girlfriend is calling. Heh.]
ANT:
Strange person. Strange, strange person. Anyway, what now?
ALEX: Well,
we get bicycles that we ride around for ages, we challenge really, really sad
bastards to Pokémon fights, and we eventually beat up a fucking huge dragon
with a small, annoying yellow mouse, who’s only purpose in life was to supply
the world with the nickname “mikachu”.
DEC: Yeah!
[Unfortunately
for Alex, he hasn’t noticed one of those “annoying yellow mice” creeping up
behind him. This one, instead of the squeaky clean irritating gimps who are
often caught by trainers who desperately need friends, but don’t have the
social skills to engage in conversations with the same sex, let alone the
opposite one, is a chain-smoking, hard-drinking, AIDS-ridden, evil bastard. He
isn’t happy.]
CHAIN-SMOKING,
HARD-DRINKING, AIDS-RIDDEN BASTARD: Pika!
ALEX: Oh,
god, *another* cameo. Oh, goodie, look, a pikachu.
[The
pikachu is miffed. “Pikachu, thunder!”]
ALEX: Whoa,
whoa! Wait!
[He doesn’t
have much luck with electricity, does he?]
PIKACHU:
Pika! Bastard!
ALEX:
GGGAAAAAHHH! Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz *crackle* AAAAAAgh!
EEEEEAAAGH!
[Ah. This
wasn’t supposed to happen.]
ANT: He’s
dead. Again.
ALL: Yeah.
ANT: Party?
VOICE OF
THE FLEECE: NO! Shit… this REALLY shouldn’t have happened.
JESSE: Eh,
big deal, we bring him back to life again. Oh dear, it’s sooooo hard.
SPIKE: *grins*
CAT: Oi! *beats
Spike with a shovel again*
V.O.T.F:
No, it ain’t that simple! You can only come back the EASY way ONCE! God, we’ve
gotta go inside his head, now, and try and get some electrical activity going.
JAMES:
Won’t he be brain damaged beyond belief?
V.O.T.F:
No, this is a fic, not real life!
JAMES: But,
you just said that we have to get some electrical activity going! Why can’t we
just resurrect him again?
V.O.T.F:
Look, are you always this awkward? Shut up.
[Oh, fuck,
this REALLY shouldn’t have happened…]
V.O.T.F:
Right… we don’t have much time… are you ready?
ALL: Well,
it looks like… FREEZE FRAME!
Damn.
They freeze framed, the bastards. Well, there’s part one of my epic, and I
hoped it was enjoyable. And seriously, Alex wasn’t supposed to die, that was an
accident. Shit, you know as much as I do about what’s gonna happen next.
Anyway, I’m serious about mailing me. If you
liked it, loathed, or merely wish to protest about your character, then contact
me! alexloderandfez@hotmail.com
right away!
One last thing… congratulations on reading this
far! Not many people have the stamina to read 21 pages of text, but you did! Or
you skipped to the end, I dunno.
Oh, and remember… mail me your favorite bands,
or any that you think someone who likes Gorillaz, Radiohead and the Offspring
would like! If I like the stuff you send, then you get thanked in the next fic.
Besides, it’s nice to know what people think of my work, so please, mail me!
Thanks, and, as always, many greyhounds to you!
I stole that from the end of one of the Buffy scripts, and I like it, so I’m
keeping it!
Aw… I don’t wanna end this script yet… well, I
suppose I’d better. Thanks a lot for reading, and I bid you all good morn. Cya,
and thanks again!
Greyhoundsgreyhoundsgreyhoundsgreyhoundsgreyhoundsgreyhoundsgreyhoundsgreyhounsdgreyhounds…
phew, got that out of my system.