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Dr. Junkee 2 Loonies United (part 1)
By JPJunkee
[NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR (that's me!): Okay! So, this is another season of the "critically acclaimed" series, Misadventures of Dr. Junkee. I wanted to make this note to say. . . hello. . . thank you for checking the story out. . . I hope you don't think it sucks too badly. But, mainly I wanted to give a few nods to a few people and say a few things about what this season will be about. Okay, first, this season will be a lot like the last, in that it will be completely insane and goofy. But, last season only really had a noticeable plot towards the end. This season, however, will have a plot throughout. Now then, first let me say, so you are not confused, while this season may have all the characters and relationships that season one had, this season will be a spoof of sorts. What is it a spoof of? Anything and everything, but mainly Jurassic Park. But, what I also want to say, is please do not be offended if your character is an absolute moron in this story (or if I end up killing him off). This is all just for fun, and I mean no offense. Also, I would like to give a few nods to the following members, Yvonne, MartinRandle, Dark Hunter, and Drucifer. You guys are my inspiration (hahaha! Ohhhh) for this story. . . in more ways than one. Not only did this all begin as a joke between a few members (man, that stupid joke went far, eh?), but I'm going to be spoofing (or politely borrowing) some things from your stories (if you don't like it. . . then tell Dan to BAN me. . . or request that I not do it. . . your choice). How will I spoof or borrow from you or your stories? Well, it's quite simple. You people are either great writers or comic geniuses (or both!), and I am either spoofing a piece of your work because I have great respect for it, or am borrowing something from it, because I find it to be hilarious (last season I "borrowed" Dark Hunter's Gorblat, thanks, btw). If you do not wish to know how exactly I will borrow from your story, do not read further. If you do wish to know, then I will tell you. Okay, Dark Hunter, you created the Gorblat, and the Gorblat will appear in this, so POOF, I owe you one. Martin, I loved your Triassic Zoo story. . . okay. . . now. . . umm. . . the character of AlanGrant5 in my story may resemble your Alan Grantchester a little bit, in that, well, he's not a very bright paleontologist. Drucifer, in your X-Factor story, Grant mutters something about wanting to ride the ponies. I don't know why, but that one line is stuck in my head forever now, and you will see that AlanGrant5 in this will have some sort of odd fascination with ponies. And Yvonne. . . I don't know how I'm going to spoof or borrow from anything you have written. . . . but I'm just saying in advance that I'll spoof it somehow, I'm sure. Okay then! Time for the story!]
[red = voice of Yvonne]
The world is changed.
I feel it in the medication.
I smell it in the wine.
I taste it, in the cheese.
Once that once was, is lost.
For none remain sane, who remember it.
DR. JUNKEE 2
It began with the forging of the Magical Mops.
Three were given to the Cuban drug lords, highest, and oddest of them all.
Seven to the midgets, great artists, that just happen to be really, really short.
And nine, nine Mops were given to the loonies, who above all else, tended to make a big mess in need of a good mopping.
For within these Mops was given the strength and will to govern each race, and clean up the floors really well.
But they were all of them, deceived.
In the lands of Denmark, in the fires of a hot stove, the dark janitor MikeyMike forged, in secret, a last Mop, that would control all others. And in this Mop, he poured all his cruelty, all his malice, and his will to dominate all life.
One Mop to rule them all.
One by one, the free lands of earth fell to the power of The Mop.
But, there were some who didn't want to take that sort of shit, sitting down.
A last alliance of men and loonies marched against the armies of Denmark. And on the front porch of MikeyMike's house, they fought for the freedom of earth.
After a long laborious battle, victory was near.
But the power of The Mop could not be undone.
MikeyMike showed up and began to kick everyone's ass! People's heads were flying this way, while their innards were flying that way. It was damn sick.
Then, the king of men, Illiteration got smacked upside the head, and went flying. His son, SpinoBoy11 ran to his side, propping his head up as he died. The dark janitor MikeyMike smiled and reached out his menacing hand to poke SpinoBoy11's eyes out (for using the Mop just wouldn't be quite as dramatic).
It was in this moment, when all hope had faded, that SpinoBoy11, son of the king, took up his father's sword, and sliced MikeyMike's hand off.
The dark janitor screamed in pain "Hey, you cut off my hand, bitch!" then went POOF!
MikeyMike, the enemy of the free peoples of earth, was defeated.
The Mop passed to SpinoBoy11, who had this one chance to destroy evil forever. But the hearts of men are easily corrupted. And The Mop of power has a will of its own.
And so SpinoBoy11 just rode around on his pony with the Mop clearly visible, and the Mop screamed out, "Help me! Oh, help me!" and some bad guys showed up and threw toothpicks into SpinoBoy11's neck.
It betrayed Spinoboy11, to his death.
And some things that should not have been forgotten were lost. History became legend. And legend became myth. And for about five years or so, The Mop passed out of all knowledge. Until, when chance came, it ensnared a new bearer. The Mop came to the creature Guilty Spark, who took it deep into his garage.
And there, it consumed him.
The Mop gave Guilty Spark an uber long life, and for 500 years it fucked with his mind. And in the darkness of the garage, it waited.
Insanity crept back into the forests of the world. Rumor told of a shadow in the east, whispers of a nameless God. And The Mop of power perceived, its time had now come.
It abandoned Guilty Spark. And rolled out from underneath the garage door.
But something happened then, that The Mop did not intend.
The most unlikely creature imaginable picked it up. A janitor, named Martin Randle of the loony hospital.
For the time would soon come, when loonies would shape the fortunes of all.
LOONIES UNITED
* * *
L'Isola di Sorte
Music blazed and strobe lights flashed as the party by the raptor pen raged on. It was after midnight and the workers at a certain park with a certain name that I am not permitted to say, were partying after a week of no fatalities on the job.
Beer kegs, wine bottles, and tortilla chips with nacho cheese lined the tables.
People played tag, and hide and go seek all around the raptor pen. Why were they partying at possibly one of the most dangerous places in the entire park? Who knows. . .
One worker staggered away from the table of beer, saying, "Woohoo! I spits sam booley! Ahahaha! Ahh. ." No one bothered to argue with him.
Amongst the happy drunk people, stood a single man, with a stern face, a cool hat, and a really wicked looking shotgun. This, was Snake-Mark. He watched as all the people ran around with their shirts off and such. Drinking beer and partying was not exactly his idea of fun. A pink thong flew through the air, and landed on his face. He brushed off the undergarment, and frowned again.
"Hey dad! Watch this!" a voice called.
Snake-Mark turned to see his sixteen-year-old son, RaptorHiss standing on his head, and drinking from a bottle of beer.
Snake-Mark went red in the face. "Son! You can't do that! Drinking beer is bad . . . upside down!"
"Aww, man! You take all the fun out of things," RaptorHiss whined as he sat down on the ground, and finished off the bottle of beer.
Snake-Mark shook his head. Kids these days! Argh. . .
"Snake, are you hearing me?" his radio hissed.
Snake-Mark sighed and took his radio off his belt, and said into it, "Yeah, I hear ya, Goodbytes."
"Yeah, umm, I just got word from Angel, that they're transferring the raptor over to you now."
"Bloody hell. Who would want to load a velociraptor into a new enclosure in the middle of the night?"
"Hey, it's not my orders. The cage should be at your position in fifteen seconds."
"And I'm just hearing about it now?! My men are all drunk, I can't load the raptor tonight."
"Yes you will. Goodbytes, over and out."
Snake-Mark shook his head and turned off the radio, muttering, "Bloody wanker. . ."
Then, sure enough, through the trees, being carried on a big forklift, came a big bamboo cage, with a snarling raptor inside.
Snake-Mark said to RaptorHiss, "Son, go to sleep now."
"Aww, but dad, I wanna see people get slaughtered in a bunch of nasty violence."
"Don't argue with me, or you won't be allowed to shoot any more ship castaways this week."
"Aww, man!" RaptorHiss then turned and walked away.
Snake-Mark watched as the bamboo cage was lowered to the ground, then he yelled, "Okay! Loading team, push the cage into the pen!"
One of the workers looked at him with drunk glazed eyes. "Get into the pen?"
"No, push in the cage."
"Go into the cage?"
"No-"
"Okay! I'm going in!" the drunken worker screamed, then ran over to the bamboo cage, and squeezed through one of the big gaps. The raptor instantly bit his head off.
Blood splattered across Snake-Mark's face. "Someone please push in the cage."
"Hehe," one worker giggled as he climbed to a top of a tree. "Wheeee!" he screamed as he jumped out of the tree, and came crashing down through the bamboo top of the little cage. The raptor stared at the worker for a moment, then it proceeded to kick him until he had died.
"This is not going well," Snake-Mark said to himself.
Then, the raptor snarled and leapt out of the broken roof of its cage. The prehistoric predator opened its maw wide, as it came flying through the air towards Snake-Mark. He screamed, and didn't even bother raising his shotgun in defense.
Suddenly, a ball of energy appeared around the raptor, stopping it in mid-flight. The raptor growled in confusion.
Snake-Mark stuck his tongue out, and teased the raptor.
Then, the blue ball rose up higher, until it was hovering above the raptor pen. In the next moment, the ball disappeared, and the raptor fell into its new pen.
Snake-Mark and the drunk workers stood in awe.
"What the hell was that?" he muttered.
"It was me. . . ." a mystical loud voice said. Another blue light appeared, then it materialized into a man with a pointy hat, long grey beard, and a mop in one hand. The man hovered in the air, and looked down at Snake-Mark.
"Who are you?" Snake-Mark asked.
"I. . . am. . . . Martin Randle. . ."
"What are you?"
"Well, I used to be a somewhat stupid janitor that worked at a mental ward, but then a new subplot came along, and it turned out that I was some mystical guardian of the Mop of Magical Majesty. . . also known as Moppy. Anyway, then, Moppy got stolen and I turned a real sickly green color. Then, I got Moppy back, fought with a mean psychiatrist, and died. Now, I am a Wizard!"
"Why?"
Martin shrugged.
"Not good enough!" Snake-Mark shouted, raising his shotgun, and quickly firing a round into Martin's stomach.
Martin looked at his stomach with only the most faint of interest as he said, "Ow." Then, he disappeared.
Snake-Mark stood flabbergasted. A young man walked up beside him, and shook his head, saying, "Wow, this was crazy. . ."
Snake-Mark eyed the man suspiciously. "Who are you? I've never seen you before."
"Oh, my name is CageMaker," the young man nodded.
"What do you do?"
"Oh, I made that bamboo cage, and supplied all the drinks to this party."
Snake-Mark growled and shot CageMaker with the shotgun. Blood, again, splattered across his face. He looked around him. This was one hell of a night. Two workers killed by a raptor, a wizard appears out of thin air, and then he killed one of his own employees, that, plus, all the drinks had been stolen.
"The drinks have been stolen?!" Snake-Mark cried. All the beer kegs, wine bottles, and other beverages had been stolen. "Well when the hell did that happen? Hmm. . . odd."
"Hehehe," said a voice somewhere in the distance, hidden in the darkness of the jungle.
* * *
In the darkness of a long forgotten truck, Dark Hunter sat caressing a bottle of Bud Light. Dark Hunter looked very skinny and sickly as he smiled at the alcoholic beverage.
"Hehehe. It is my own," Dark Hunter whispered. "My precious. I love alcohol, and it loves me." Then he began to cough and say, "What are you talking about?! Nothing loves you! You're just a smelly man with a split personality disorder!" He shook his head. "But, the Gorblat loves me." He shook his head again. "Ha! Lies! You only think that sorry little beetle likes you because you've gone insane!" Dark Hunter smacked the side of his head. "Hey! I have always been insane, don't belittle me!"
Dark Hunter opened the bottle of Bud Light, and drank it down. Then, once the bottle was empty, he sighed and wiped his lips.
"Ahhh. . . . that hit the spot," he smiled. "You're a stupid man, and a thief." Dark Hunter opened his mouth wide, as if he was offended. "That's not very nice. I politely borrowed these drinks." Then a scowl appeared on his face, "No, what's worse, you're a. . . hobo. . . ." Dark Hunter jumped to his feet and shouted, "Gah! Not listening! Go away!" The he shrugged, "Okay."
There was the sound of a door closing, and he smiled.
"I'm free!" He began jumping up and down, laughing. "No more odd scary voice! Yay!"
"Hello!"
"Oh balls!" Dark Hunter crossed his arms over his chest and scowled.
* * *
Dónde Ellos Resbalan
Panos stood on top of a flat, stupid, primitive, wooden, handmade raft, as he floated down a muddy river. Panos was not a very handsome man. His long nose, big eyes, and furry eyebrows gave him a shocking resemblance to a mosquito. Which, is just as well, being that he’s a blood sucking lawyer.
As the raft neared a rocky shoreline, Panos held out his hand for someone to help him off the raft.
“Hello,” Panos greeted the few men that stood on shore.
The men scowled at him, and crossed their arms over their chests, not aiding him in any way.
“Could I get some help off this raft, please?” Panos asked.
“Vaya el golpe una burbuja,” a big man with a shiny bald head said in Spanish.
“Umm, I’m sorry, my name is Panos, I’m a lawyer.”
At this the men screamed, then pulled cloves of garlic from their pockets. All the men screamed, except for the fat bald man.
“Usted el uno ellos hablan de en la noche?” the bald man asked in Spanish.
“What? I can’t understand you.”
The man rolled his eyes, “Are you the vampire lawyer that haunts them in the night?”
Panos eyed the bald man strangely, “No, I don’t think so. Am I?”
“I don’t know. Are you?”
“Not to my knowledge, no.”
“What if I don’t believe you?”
“I. . . don’t know.”
“Is that so?”
Panos nodded slowly.
The bald man extended a hand, and helped Panos off the raft. “My name is Chavez,” the bald man said. “Come with me. I want you to see someone.”
Panos nodded hesitantly then followed Chavez away from the shore. After just one step, Panos had slipped and fallen on the wet rocks.
“Are you okay, vampire?” Chavez asked, helping Panos to his feet.
“Yes.”
“Ah ha! So you admit, you are a vampire!”
“No, I didn’t!”
“You didn’t?”
“No, of course not.”
“Oh. . . Follow me then.”
Chavez guided Panos over more wet rocks, until he finally led him to a mine in the side of a cliff. “We go into the mine, now,” Chavez said.
“Why?”
“Because I want you to follow me. And that is where I intend to go.”
“What is in those mines?”
“Hehe. . . there are bugs. . . and icky tree sap. . . icky, icky, pleh!”
“Uh huh. . . .” Panos was still unsure about this man.
Chavez led Panos into the cave. Again, Panos slipped, and then as he got to his feet, he hit his head on the mine’s entrance.
“Watch your head, vampire. You wouldn’t want to chip one of your precious teeth.”
“I am not a vampire.”
“Prove it!”
“I was standing in direct sunlight. . .”
“Hmm. . . dumb vampire. That wasn’t a real sun.”
“What?!”
“Nope! We put that fake sun in there to trick you into believing you were not a vampire.”
“What?! This is absurd! Where is Drucifer?! I came to see Drucifer!”
“Ah, no you didn’t.” Chavez shook his head.
“Yes I did!”
“Ah, no you didn’t.” Chavez shook his head.
“What are you talking about? Take me to Drucifer, now!” Panos shouted.
Chavez shook his head, “No, I don’t think so.”
“Is there a gas leak in this jungle, or something?”
“Changing the subject, are we?”
“You’re odd.”
“You’re a vampire.”
Panos sighed, and continued to follow Chevez deeper into the mine.
Chavez walked up to a wall of the mine, where an orange rock shone brightly in the lights. He pulled the rock out of the wall, and showed it to Panos.
“This, is 65 million year old amber. Inside, there is a little mosquito.”
“What is it for?”
Chavez smiled wickedly, “Don’t tell anyone. But me and the boys are supposed to ship these here amber rocks out to Drucifer. But, we only send him some of the pieces of amber we find!”
“What do you do with the rest?”
Chavez smiled and bit into the piece of amber, then began to chew on the crunchy million year old tree sap. “We sell them on the black market as “Jolly Juan’s Jawbreakers”, the kids love em’. And the adults like them because they remind them of tequila, what with there being a bug inside and all.” He smiled again, revealing a giant mosquito stuck between his front teeth.
“That’s nice,” Panos said.
“Isn’t it though? We call them HHH for short."
"Wouldn't that be JJJ?"
Chavez frowned, "No, it was Juan's last request before he died, that they be called HHH instead of JJJ."
:::FLASHBACK:::
Chavez and other workers stood beside the bed of the dying Juan.
"Any last wishes?" Chavez asked.
"When I die, I want to be remembered as a woman," Juan replied.
"How about we name Jawbreakers after you and call them HHH?"
"Okay fine, whatever."
:::END FLASHBACK:::
Chavez shook his head. "Oh yes! Almost forgot! I am taking you to see someone! Come, come!” Chavez waved his hand and beckoned Panos deeper into the mine.
He followed the bald man for about another five minutes, until finally, he was led into a brightly-lit room, full of candles and microwaves. At the far end of the room, there was a big wooden chair, where a man sat with his hands crossed over his lap.
“Who dares disturb my vegetating?” the man in the chair asked.
“It was me,” Chavez said. “I’ve come, baring gifts, Ben.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, look who I brought to you!” Chavez pushed Panos closer to the chair.
“Who are you?” Ben, the man in the chair asked.
“Um, my name is Panos. I’m a lawyer. I’ve come to see Drucifer.”
“Drucifer is not here. So, why are you?”
“Um, I thought Drucifer was supposed to be here.”
“LIES!”
“Umm, no.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, my apologies. Chavez, why have you brought Panos, the lawyer, to me?”
“He is a vampire!”
“Gasps! Is this true, Panos?” Ben asked, jumping out of his seat, and walking towards him.
Panos cowered slightly. “No. I’m just a lawyer.”
“Hmm, we shall see about that!”
“Yeah, go Ben!” Chavez cheered.
Ben grabbed Panos’ face, and opened his mouth to inspect his teeth. After a moment of looking at the teeth, Ben shut his mouth, and smiled.
“He is not a vampire!”
“But he looks like one!” Chavez said.
“He looks ugly, but he is no vampire.”
There was a long pause.
“So what was the whole reason of this scene?” Panos asked.
Ben shrugged his shoulders. “It was a way of introducing your character. But, mainly, it was just a poor attempt of giving myself a cameo in the story.”
“Oh, I see.”
There was another long pause.
"Will this scene end soon?" Panos asked.
"Wait, wait, give it time," Ben said.
There was a really long pause.
"Okay, now it may end."
The scene failed to end.
"What's wrong with this thing?!" Chavez yelled, and began stomping on the floor. "End damn you!"
Everything went black, the candles blowing out from a big gust of cave-wind.
"It ends!"
* * *
La rue de Vitesse
The sound of roaring car engines filled the dark streets. People in their twenties walked all about, saying stuff like; 'shizzo' and 'nizlle frizzo be bizzio'. Lining the four lane street, were cars of all sorts. . . and by all sorts, I mean Japanese make. . . you know Mitsubishi, Honda. . . that sort of stuff. All the cars were some neon color, and had either a wicked design on the side, or they just had some shiny rims.
One person stood out from the crowd. He stood nearly seven feet tall, and wore absolutely no shiny material around his neck, and no rings attached to his nipples or face. But, the thing that made him stand out even more, was the fact that he had a bright red afro atop his head. This was EvilGrinch.
EvilGrinch made his way through the crowd. All eyes were on him. He was their leader you see? He was their alpha male. . . yeah.
He spread his arms wide, and shouted, "Welcome to Race Club!"
Everyone else replied, "Woo!"
"I look around and I see lots of new faces around here."
Everyone laughed softly, and some of them clapped.
"Why the hell are you laughing?" EvilGrinch barked. "New members is a bad thing. Very bad. New members means some of you have broken the first two rules of Race Club. Number one, never talk about Race Club. Number two, only drink Pepsi. . . no Coke!
One of the other racers held up his hand, "What does rule number two have to do with new members?"
EvilGrinch glared at the other guy. "Does it matter?"
"No, sir, Mr. EvilGrinch, sir."
"Good. . . Now then. Who is new here?"
Four people stepped forward.
EvilGrinch smiled, "Four people, four lane road. You guys are going to be the first four to race, kapiesh?"
The four nodded, then ran to their cars. The rest of the crowd moved to the side, to allow the four cars to drive up to the starting line that two girls were making with spray paint. EvilGrinch walked to the front of the cars.
"Okay. . . Step out of your cars now please," EvilGrinch instructed.
The four drivers got out of their cars.
"What are your names?"
The first driver, who was standing next to a Honda Civic with the caricature of a duckling on the hood replied, "My name is Brad, sir."
"And what have you got under your hood?"
"An engine and nos. . . but mainly just nos."
EvilGrinch nodded approvingly then motioned to the second driver.
The second guy was very short, and had a shiny shaved head, that matched his shiny little Subaru. He smiled, revealing gold teeth, "The name's Crisco. I gots a B-12 Qubacobulator engine, copulated with nos to the boss, yo!"
EvilGrinch nodded slowly, and then looked to the third racer, "You?"
The third guy had tattoos up and down his arms, and some of those freaky contact lenses on his eyes. He replied in a gruff voice, while patting the roof of his Mitsubishi, "My name is PunkNerd, shit head, and don't you forget it. I've got about twenty tons of nos in my car."
"Wouldn't that make it go really slow?" Brad asked.
"Shut up fool!" PunkNerd snapped back at him.
EvilGrinch looked to the last racer, and said, "And who are you?"
The fourth guy grinned wickedly as he put on a pair of sunglasses (despite the darkness), and rested his shoulder up against his HUMMER. Then, he adjusted the brass knuckles on his hand and said, "They call me Vader."
"Who are 'they'?" EvilGrinch asked.
Vader shrugged, "What does it matter?"
EvilGrinch eyed Vader warily, then said, "Okay then! Get back in your cars, and prepare to race!"
The four men nodded, then got back into their cars, and started their engines. The roars of the engines filled the streets.
EvilGrinch walked off to the side of the street. There, he picked up a green flag, then, he rose it high up into the air.
Vader gripped the steering wheel of his HUMMER. He looked to his left, at the other racers. Directly beside him, was PunkNerd, sitting in the driver's seat of his sports car. Vader eyed PunkNerd, and PunkNerd returned the glare.
"I'm going to beat you," Vader said over the sound of the roaring engines. "You do know that right?"
"Shut up bitch, before I drill a new hole in your head," PunkNerd replied. "The nos in my ride will smoke your ass, and you'll be left in my dust, coughing for forgiveness. You stand no chance against me, fuckface."
"What a colorful vocabulary you have," Vader muttered.
EvilGrinch shouted, "Okay, ready, set, go!" He waved the green flag, and the four vehicles sped away from the starting line.
Crisco laughed, and instantly pressed a bright red button on his dash. The car jumped as the nos was ignited. . . if nos is ignited that is. . . hmm. Anyway! The car went 'VROOM!' and he began to pass the other racers.
But Brad was not to be outdone. No! No! He pressed the button on his dash, and his car went 'RAMMM!'. . . and he passed everyone, including Crisco.
Now, Brad was in the lead, with Crisco behind him, and PunkNerd and Vader tied in last.
Vader searched his dashboard frantically. "Why the hell wasn't I informed about nos?. . . What the hell is a nos?"
PunkNerd grinned evilly, and pressed a button on his dash. But, instead of a big 'VRALM!' of speed burst. A gun turret popped out of the hood of his car. The gun automatically aimed at Crisco and Brad, then with a bright red flame, it came to life, spraying bullets at the leading cars.
"Gah!" Crisco screamed as bullets zoomed through his back window. "This is too much for me, man!" he screamed again, yanking his steering wheel to the side, and pulling onto the sidewalk.
Bullets hit Brad's car. "Ayecarumba! At least the bullets did not hit the engine or the---" there was a loud hiss, then blue flames erupted from the hood of his car. "---nos." The car exploded, sending shrapnel and Brad flying in all directions.
[NOTE FROM AUTHOR --- The word "nos" appears at least ten times in this story. That is only about half as many times as it appears in Fast and the Furious. If you felt like you were going to be sick while reading all the "nos" in this story, imagine how sick I felt while counting all the "nos" in the film. . . . . .ehhhhwww]
Vader swerved to avoid the burning frame of Brad's car. Now it was just him and PunkNerd. The gun on PunkNerd's car swung around, and aimed directly into Vader's front window. He and PunkNerd were side by side now, and if the gun fired at him, he would surely be shot and killed.
"Tak taki!" Vader yelled and turned to the left, hitting PunkNerd's car hard in the side.
"Hey! Don't mess up the new paint job!" PunkNerd shouted.
Vader hit PunkNerd's car again. His HUMMER was much more powerful than PunkNerd's car, so PunkNerd was having a hard time controlling his vehicle after the powerful blows.
"I shoot you!" PunkNerd said.
"You wouldn't want to blow me up, when I'm right next to you. . . would you?" Vader grinned.
"Argh." The gun on PunkNerd's car disappeared back into the hood.
"There is only one way to finish this!" Vader yelled, as they approached the finish line.
"What? We stop trying to kill each other, and just race like civilized illegal street racers?"
"No! That would be absurd! We must climb to the roofs of our vehicles, and then do a big midair attack!"
"Brilliant!"
Vader and PunkNerd put their vehicles on cruise control, then unbuckled their safety belts, and climbed out their windows. Then, they crawled onto the roof, and stood up.
"This is insane!" PunkNerd shrieked.
"I thought you said it was a brilliant idea!"
"That was a long time ago!"
"Grr. . . Come on, don't chicken out now! We must do a superb stunt!"
"Fine!"
"On the count of three!" Vader said, adjusting the brass knuckles on his hand. "One. Two. Three!"
Vader and PunkNerd leaped simultaneously from their cars (imagine a Matrix sort of stunt here. . . you know. . . slow motion. . . pointless risks. . . .that sort of thing). Then, they hit each other midflight, and came tumbling to the pavement. They hit it hard, and began to roll out of control, until they eventually lost grip of each other, and came to rest side by side.
"Ow," Vader said.
"That fucking hurt!" PunkNerd exclaimed.
The sound of their vehicles racing away, and crashing into other cars was then heard. Vader smiled.
"My car is dead!" PunkNerd screamed.
"Most definitely," Vader snickered.
"It's your fault!"
"Indeed it is."
"I'm going to kill you!" PunkNerd tried to move, but his body hurt so badly, he couldn't even stand. "Um, Vader. . . could you. . . come over here so I can beat you to a bloody pulp?"
"Certainly!" Vader said, as he hopped to his feet and strode over to PunkNerd.
"How can you walk? Aren't you hurt?"
"Nope! I feel just dandy!"
"Stupid shithead."
"Hey! I take offense to that!" Vader growled as he reached down, and grabbed PunkNerd's shirt collar.
"You wouldn't beat a defenseless man, would you?"
"I see nothing wrong in the act."
"Oh. . . . poo."
Vader reached back with his fist, and was about to punch PunkNerd, when red and blue flashing lights appeared to his left.
"Gah! It's the pos!" PunkNerd screamed.
"What are pos?" He looked up and saw a police car driving towards them. "Ohhh, I see." Vader let go of PunkNerd, and began running away from the approaching police car.
"You're leaving me here?" PunkNerd whined.
Vader laughed, "I've spent too much time in the slammer! There's no way I'm going back!"
The police car stopped. One officer jumped out, and drew his weapon on PunkNerd, screaming, "Get on the ground and put your hands on your head!"
"Pig!" PunkNerd screamed back at the officer.
The second officer began running after Vader. But, it was obvious to this police man (and readers of the story) that Vader was going to outrun him for sure. So, the officer ceased running, drew his pistol, and shouted, "Stop or I'll blow your head off!"
Vader laughed again.
The officer pulled the trigger, and the bullet raced towards Vader.
Blood squirted out of Vader's right shoulder. He stopped running, and looked at the wound. "Well, that's odd, I didn't expect to actually get shot. . . what a . . . surprise. . . hmm." Then he blacked out.
And thus ends the first episode of the second season. . . . Look at that. . . . I didn't even appear (and neither did Yvonne, for that matter), uncanny! Anyway! I hope you enjoyed. Please leave a comment, and next week's episode is better than this!. . . . So. . . . . . I hope to see you next week, too!
-- Dr. Junkee
EXECUTIVE PRODUCERS
Kyle 'JPJunkee' Warner
&
Yvonne Bartha
7/10/2003 12:46:13 PM
(Updated: 7/20/2003 1:38:55 PM)
(Updated: 7/20/2003 1:39:29 PM)
(Updated: 7/20/2003 1:51:22 PM)
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