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Dr. Junkee 2 Loonies United (part 7)
By JPJunkee
RETURN OF THE SHIZZO
The tyrannosaurus rex and the spinosaurus stood side by side in the cover of the treetops. In front of them, was the big power box that, if destroyed, would wipe out all the main power throughout the whole park. This was their mission. But, two workers with big rifles stood by the power box. Both the lizards remembered these rifles well, as they tended to shoot big silver things that would sting their tails.
"Go on, rex," Dan said in the rex's mind. "Go destroy the power box. . . you know you want to."
"Rrrrrrrrrrr," the rex argued, reminding Dan that the rifles shot big stinging silver things.
"Rex is right, Dan," Bob argued over the God wavelink radio channel thing. "If we wish to destroy the box, we must work as a team!"
"Arrrrr?" the spinosaurus asked.
"I'm suggesting that one of us goes to kill the two guards, while the other sneaks around and kills the box."
"Why didn't I think of that?!"
"Because you're stupid."
"Ah! Have the guts to say that to my face?!"
"Bring it on old man! Bring it on!"
"Rargh," the rex said, calming both the Gods.
"The lizard is right, we are a team now, we must start acting like one," Dan said.
Bob sighed, "Yes. Fighting is pointless and childish. Friends?"
"Friends."
The two giant dinosaur predators shook hands (very difficult task for rex).
"I call killing the people!" Bob shouted, and the spinosaurus grinned.
"Dammit!"
The spinosaurus ran out from the cover of the trees, its head low as it charged after the two guards standing by the power box. In turn, the tyrannosaurus ran around back, looking to attack the power box from the rear.
The two guards screamed as the giant spinosaurus approached, "Gojira!!!!!"
"I see you! CRUNCH!" Bob yelled as the spinosaurus stepped on one of the guards, flattening him like a bloody pancake. "I see you. . . . CRUNCH!" The spinosaurus growled as it stepped on the last remaining guard.
Behind the power box, rex had opened the back panel, and was now examining the many wires that ran through it like a multicolored spider web - of wires!
"Rech rire?" the rex asked Dan inside his mind.
"Knickers if I know. . . .Just pick the yellow one."
The rex stared at the wires, too ashamed to tell Dan that tyrannosaurs were colorblind. His small little claws twitched with anticipation and worry of pulling the wrong wire.
"Grr, screw it," the rex said and shoved his entire mouth into the web of wires. Sparks flew all about and electrical currents ran up and down the rex's body.
"Holy shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!" Dan screamed as he too was electrocuted.
Then, the power box died, and the rex stepped back, shaking its head.
"Owwwr," the rex said, feeling a little bit dizzy.
"Let's do that again!" Dan shouted.
* * *
The Explorer bounced down the road in darkness. Outside, rain fell as the storm increased in tenacity. Host bobbed his head slowly to the music that played softly in the vehicle, listening to the lyrics was the only thing that kept him awake. AlanGrant5 sat beside him in the driver's seat. He looked at Host with slanted eyes that contained more confusion than any anger.
"How can you like listening to this garbage?" AlanGrant5 asked.
Host stopped bobbing his head and looked at the other man. "This is Elvis Presley."
"Who?"
"Elvis Presley, the King of Rock," Host said.
"That's not rock, that's sissy music."
"What?"
AlanGrant5 sighed and then said very slowly so Host could understand, "Sissy music. . . .is music for sissies. . . .sissy."
"Did you just call me a sissy?"
AlanGrant5 shrugged. "If the shoe fits."
"Fine," Host said, growing irritated without having Yvonne in the car to control the moron. "What kind of music do you like?"
"Rock and roll," AlanGrant5 said.
"This is rock and roll."
AlanGrant5 sighed, "We've been through this before; Elvis is a sissy, and his music is sissy music."
"You're impossible," Host growled.
"You're a sissy." Then AlanGrant5 smiled and leaned forward in his seat to press a button on the dashboard. There was a click, then the windshield wipers began to flick back and forth. He frowned then pressed another button, this one causing the interior lights to turn on, then off. "How do you change the radio station, Host?"
Host shook his head, refusing to communicate with the imbecile.
AlanGrant5 began to press all the buttons on the dash in frenzy. Lights blinked, the sunroof opened allowing rain to fall into the vehicle, and then finally the radio station changed.
The lyrics changed from Elvis's soft melody to Linkin Park's loud rap/rock/crap/techno hybrid music. AlanGrant5 threw his hands up in the air in triumph as the song played on.
Without warning, the song stopped, the lights shut off, and the car came to a creaking halt.
AlanGrant5 grimaced, "Alright, what did I touch?"
Host grimaced, too. If only I had a gun, Host thought, just two bullets, that's all I need. Kill him, then kill myself, oh yes, that would be just dandy.
* * *
Dino_Dude crept around the side of the tree, pressing his shoulders up against the bark while holding the cheese axe close to his chest. "Where are you, Yvonne?" he whispered devilishly. "I know you're here. I can sense it! You're close, too. . . . Yes, show yourself, sister, show yourself, so little brother can speak with you. . . just speak with you, nothing more. . ."
"Woohoo!" a voice shouted behind him.
Dino_Dude, assuming it was Yvonne (for reasons unknown), spun around with the axe held high, and then chopped down on the nearest figure to him.
The axe sliced through flesh and bone, blood splattering across Dino_Dude's face. Quickly, he wiped the blood away, only to see Jmock5 standing in front of him, blood spurting out of his right shoulder where his arm once was.
Jmock5 looked down at the arm on the ground, then up at Dino_Dude with a face of confusion and shock.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cut off your arm there, man," Dino_Dude said, in the most sincere voice he could manage.
Jmock5 frowned and again looked down at the arm that now lay on the ground. Suddenly, the fingers began to twitch, then in one swift moment, the arm raced off into the bushes behind them.
Dino_Dude's face turned pale, "I don't think I've ever been quite so disturbed in my entire life."
Jmock5 smiled, "Woohoo! I'm a starfish!" then a replacement arm grew on his right shoulder.
Dino_Dude shook his head, "I was wrong."
Meanwhile, Aragorn and Dac sat on the dirt, taking a rest from their walk through the woods. Dac flipped the nickel in his hand, admiring the shininess of the silver coin.
"What good is a nickel to someone who's locked up in a hospital their whole life?" Aragorn asked.
Dac shrugged, "What good is a hospital full of nickels if you have no lives to lock up?"
Aragorn pondered this for a moment. . . .and decided Dac had a good point. Aragorn shivered as a breeze brushed up against the back of his neck.
"Are you cold?" Dac asked happily.
"A little bit. . . surprising as this is a jungle. . . . but yeah, I'm a little cold, I guess."
"I'll make a fire!"
"Cool," Aragorn said. "Want me to help you collect firewood?"
Dac laughed, "I don't need firewood, I have everything I need right here!"
"Oh?. . . . Where?"
Dac smiled, holding up the nickel in his hand. "With this coin, I will create fire, and all the creatures on earth, heaven, and hell will tremble before me!"
"Perhaps you're getting a little ahead of yourself, Dac?"
Dac simply shook his head. Then, placing the nickel in the palm of his left hand, he put his right hand over it, enclosing the coin in a cage of fingers and skin. Then, he began to shake his hands very fast, all the while muttering, "Coompabeya, coompabeya, coompabeya." (it's what people mutter when they want to make fire - honestly, try it out sometime, you'll be cool if you do).
Dino_Dude and Jmock5 walked up behind Aragorn. All three stared at Dac as he continued to shake his hands violently.
"What's he doing?" Dino_Dude asked.
"Trying to make fire with a nickel," Aragorn said.
Dino_Dude blinked, "Even for Dac, that's pretty stupid."
Dac abruptly let out a scream, as fire erupted from his hands, and then traveled up his arms, igniting his entire body in a ball of flames.
"I don't know how," Aragorn said. "But I honestly did not expect that."
Dac proceeded to stand up, then quickly run off into the bushes, leaving trails of flames in his wake.
"Come on, we have to go save him," Aragorn said.
"Woohoo!" Jmock5 shouted, bounding after Dac and Aragorn.
Dino_Dude frowned as he watched them go. Then, behind him he heard a Jeep driving through the jungle, and then a familiar female voice. He titled his head to the side, and mumbled, "Yvonne. . . ."
Spinning on his heels, Dino_Dude left the other loonies behind, and ran off after the sounds of the Jeep.
* * *
Junkee looked up at the darkening sky. Rain had just recently began to fall on him and Vader. They thought about just waiting out the storm under the shelter of a big tree, but Junkee was adamant on getting to the main compound. . .wherever it was on this island.
"Did I ever tell you about my girlfriend, Greenleaf?" Vader asked, trying to start a conversation.
"No."
"Yeah, she hates me, she's not even my girlfriend, but I want her to be. She's got the most beautiful green eyes, I tried to compliment her eyes once, and she kicked me in the area where the sun don't shine"
"Oh," Junkee said, beginning to feel a little bit uncomfortable, as he wasn't all too sure what the hell Vader was talking about and why he was talking about it.
Vader sighed, "Last week, I asked her out on a date---"
"She hates you, but yet you had the nerve to ask her out?"
"Yeah."
Junkee frowned, "Okay, continue."
"Anyway, I asked her out, and she pulled a knife on me and stabbed me in the stomach." Vader pulled up his shirt, revealing a large scar on his stomach.
Junkee looked at the nasty scar, and began to feel faint. Quickly, he looked away.
"Yeah, so, you know I go to the hospital, thinking I'm going to die. And then the next morning I finally wake up, and I find a card from her at my bedside. Know what it said?"
"No, and I don't want to, but I have a feeling you're going to tell me anyway."
"Damn straight. . . . Anyway, it said, 'Get a life dishrag'." Vader paused for a moment then said, "Who the fuck calls another person a dishrag?"
Junkee thought about it and said the most proper thing that came to mind, "Well, she wasn't good enough for you anyway."
"The hell are you talking about? You've never met her."
"I, uhh, used to date Greenleaf, about three years ago."
Vader stopped walking, and put his hand on Junkee's shoulder. "What did you say?"
"Yeah, uh, a really brief thing, in fact I'm surprised I remember her name. Bad girl, bad for you, bad for me."
"You dated the chick that tried to stick a sword through my torso?" Vader growled.
"You said it was a knife," Junkee said.
"Well, it sounded better when it was a knife, because a knife attack can be sudden. But no, she got me with a sword, and no, I didn't see it coming."
"What's your problem, Vader?" Junkee asked.
"My problem is you're connected to the bitch that tried to kill me."
"You said you loved her."
"That was before I knew you used to date her. Did you tell her to kill me? Did you tell her to hate me? I hate her now, oh yes, and I hate you, too."
"Vader, I think you're overreacting just a teensy bit."
"Overreacting?" Vader snarled. "I'll show you overreacting!"
Vader swiftly backhanded Junkee in the face. Junkee staggered back, his shoulders hitting the tree behind him, as he clutched his nose. Blood slowly began to ooze out of his nostrils.
"You broke my nose," Junkee said. "I took pride in my nose!"
"Yeah, well you hired Greenleaf, a girl I used to love, to kill me!"
"I can't bloody believe it - you bloody broke my bloody nose. . . . Bloody hell!"
"Ah ha! So you admit it," Vader said.
"Admit what?" Junkee asked, wiping away blood from his nose.
Vader's eyes went wide as he shouted, "Blasphemy!"
"Go screw yourself."
Vader's nostrils flared, "Tak taki!" Then he jumped with his arms spread out at his sides, going for Junkee's throat.
Dr. Junkee took one step to the side, and watched as Vader sailed headfirst into the tree. With a loud thud, Vader hit the tree, then silently slid down onto the ground. Junkee pushed Vader's chest with his foot, checking to see if the man was still awake; he wasn't.
Shrugging his shoulders, Junkee walked away from Vader, leaving him at the bottom of the tree.
* * *
Yvonne drove the Jeep fast over the wet muddy roads. Beside her, Martin Randle sat with the One Mop lying across his lap.
"Oooooooooo," Martin groaned as though he was sick.
"What is it?" Yvonne asked.
"I sense a terrible disturbance in the. . . . Magic. It feels like two old time friends, have suddenly begun to hate each other - and oh my, one of them bloody broke the other's bloody nose. . .and now it's bleeding."
"Who are these two friends you speak of?" Yvonne asked, as she made a right turn on the road.
Martin looked at Yvonne, pondering over whether to tell her the truth. He knew that Yvonne still carried a great amount of hate inside her for Dr. Junkee and Vader, and telling her that either of them were in fact on the island would not be a wise decision on his part.
"Drucifer and Mr. Goodbytes," Martin lied, knowing damn well Drucifer and Mr. G had always hated each other.
"So?"
Martin thought about this for a moment as well, Yvonne was a good interrogator, no doubts there. Instead of answering her question he changed the subject. "Where are we going?"
"To the Visitor's Center," Yvonne said. "Drucifer would really like knowing that you are still alive."
"Drucifer's on the island?!" Martin asked happily.
"Yes. . . . I thought you knew everything, couldn't you have known he was on the island?"
Martin thought long and hard about this question, then said, "Shut up, I don't want to talk to you anymore."
Yvonne frowned, and continued driving towards the Visitor Center.
* * *
Water in Dr. Junkee's shoes sloshed around as he trudged through the jungle. His nose still hurt like hell and inside he almost felt bad about leaving poor Vader behind like he had. . . .only almost, though.
The sounds of the jungle helped soothe his mind and body. It was so tranquil here. . . despite the tropical storm raging over his head. As he listened, he heard a sound he had not heard in a long time.
"Weeeeeedle. . . .Weeeeeeeeeeeddddlllleeee," it was very faint, but yes, he could tell it had been a weedling noise.
Junkee was confused as to whether he should take comfort in this sound, or instead be pissing his pants in fear then running for his life. But before he could do either, a small black object flew past his face. Instinctively, Junkee flattened himself on the ground, and watched the black shape fly past and then finally land on a tree.
Looking at it now, as it stood motionless on the branch of the nearby tree, Junkee realized what it was. It was the Gorblat. The ancient beetle sent by the Dark Gods to destroy all that is good and holy in the world, by using its songs of pure evil!
Junkee felt like saying something smart and intelligent to the beetle, but all that came out was, "Gahhhhhh!"
The Gorblat stared at Junkee, then suddenly; it took to the air and flew away. Curiosity getting the best of him, Junkee jumped to his feet, and decided to follow the black beetle (for reasons unknown). He followed the beetle through the rainy jungle, till it landed on a large boulder in front of him. Junkee stared at the beetle, awaiting it to sing or. . .something. But, it never did anything.
Junkee tapped his wet shoe on the ground and muttered, "Stupid bug."
Then there was a loud beep, and then the Gorblat abruptly just blew up in a golden shower of sparks. Junkee stepped backwards as the boulder where the Gorblat once was began to melt away like chocolate.
Behind him, he heard the sound of someone approaching. Maybe they would know if Gorblats were prone to spontaneous combustion, Junkee thought.
But turning around, he was greeted by a face he had never wanted to see again. A face so vile, so horrifying, so downright putrid he would rather visit his brother in Kansas than have to see that stupid face again!
It was the face of Steven Spielberg.
And so, there they were. Dr. Junkee soaking wet in his all black clothing, and Steven Spielberg in his black and white tuxedo, with small black sunglasses on. Oh, and may it be noted, that there was a bold S2 printed on Spielberg's forehead.
"You," Junkee said beneath clenched teeth.
"Dr. Junkee!" Spielberg1213 said as if he was greeting a long time friend. Then once Junkee did not respond with a happy face, Spielberg1213 said, "Surprised to see me?"
"Bloody hell," Junkee said, trying to comprehend what he was seeing.
[AUTHOR'S NOTE: For those not familiar to the series (those that did not read the conclusion of the first season), you may be a little bit confused right now. Spielberg1213 was a machine of war created by Drucifer to kill Junkee. And, it succeeded in that task. But, a nameless god with dark blue font later resurrected Junkee. When Junkee returned to the real world, Vader had killed Spielberg1213 by tearing off the robot's head. Thus, Junkee is surprised to see the robot now. There ya go!]
"You're dead," Junkee continued.
"Do I look dead to you?" Spielberg1213 asked.
"You were never alive, you're a machine."
"Shut up."
"No, you stupid bucket of bolts."
"I said!" Speilberg1213's right arm turned into a large laser cannon. "Shut up."
Junkee closed his mouth with no intention of ever talking again.
"You must realize, Junkee, that if I can kill the Gorblat - a creature created by the Gods - I can surely kill a measly psychiatrist."
Junkee nodded, that seemed reasonable.
"I am the ultimate entity," Spielberg1213 said. "I am the supreme being."
Junkee detected movement to his right and turned to see a second Spielberg1213 walk out from behind a tree and say, "I am the omega."
Then another walked out from a different tree, saying, "I am the alpha."
And yet another; "I am the beginning."
"Of your end," the first Spielberg1213 said with a cruel smile.
Junkee looked around him; he was now surrounded by at least a dozen Spielberg look-a-likes. Junkee's situation had just gone from bad to worse.
"So, what's your move, Junkee?" the first Spielberg asked.
Junkee's eyes darted from robot to robot as he said, "You guys have guns, that's not a fair fight."
"Hmm, perhaps you are right," Spielberg1213 said, as his cannon arm turned back into a normal fist. "There, now does that suffice?"
Junkee nodded slowly, then quickly jumped forward and punched his aggressor in the nose. Without waiting for a return attack, Junkee kneed Spielberg1213 in the stomach, then picked up a rock and threw it at one of the other robots, hitting it in the face.
All the robots threw their hands up and yelled, "Action!" Then as one, they all leapt on top of Junkee, punching and kicking him. Junkee grunted at the bottom of the pile as he tried his best to ward off his attackers by blocking and offering attacks of his own. Through all the powerful blows and loud robotic grunts, Junkee heard someone yelling.
"Hello deities!" called the voice from somewhere above. It struck Junkee as odd that an angel would speak in such a slurred voice, but he supposed it was only adequate that his angel would be a drunk as he was so fond of the bottle as well.
"Get off of him, or I will spill beer on your mechanical innards!" shouted the voice, then it added, "And then piss on it, too!"
The robots got off of Junkee, but he was too weak to stand on his own. The Spielberg1213s stood over him, looking up in a tree. Junkee looked closer, and saw a thin man in muddy clothing standing on a long, strong branch in the tree.
"Identify yourself," one of the Spielberg1213s demanded.
"Identify this, mo'fo!" the dirty man shouted, throwing an object through the air. The object flew at one of the robots, then finally it hit the robot's head, shattering the object into pieces. The Spielberg1213 stood still for a moment, registering the damage to its forehead, then it fell backwards.
One of the other cyborgs walked over and touched some of the liquid that had burst out of the object when it struck the other robot.
"Budweiser," Spielberg1213 said, licking the liquid. "The King of Beers."
"Hmm, you are a formidable enemy," the dirty man said in the tree. "But, are you a drinking man, man?"
"What does that have to do with anything?" all the Spielberg1213s asked.
Dried mud cracked on the man's dark face as his mouth dropped. "Everything! Drinking, is the path of the powerful man. Drinking leads to drunk, drunk leads to vomit, vomit. . . .leads to invincibility."
All the robots exchanged glances of concern.
The muddy man sighed in his tree, "I sense no alcohol in you."
"We have no alcohol," one of the Spielberg1213s said. "Could we have some of yours?"
"Certainly!" the man in the tree said, tossing a bottle of beer down to each of the robots. Each accepted their own bottle, they opened them and quickly drained them. They all sighed and smiled at how good the beer tasted - then sparks flew out of their necks and all their heads popped off.
"Haha!" the man in the tree laughed, jumping down limb from limb to reach the jungle floor.
[AUTHOR NOTE - Beer is bad if you're too young to drink it! So, if you crash your car because you're drunk, don't start bitching to your mom saying, "Dr. Junkee made me do it momma, he said beer is good for all ages." Because, boy, I got some kick ass lawyers that will kick your ass if your ass should choose to need a good kicking!]
"Who are you?" Junkee asked, trying to sit up. Compared with all the bruises and other injuries the robots had given him, his nose didn't hurt so bad anymore.
"Well, don't you recognize me, Doc?" the dirty man asked.
"Should I?"
The man smiled and wiped away the dirt and grime from his face.
"Holy shit," Dr. Junkee said, opening his mouth in awe as he found himself staring back at Dark Hunter.
"It's me!" Dark Hunter shouted.
"I bet you came to kill me, too, eh?"
"No, I came to save you. Bullshit, we have come to kill you. Hey, what are you talking about? We agreed to come and act like his friend, and then betray him, and feed him to a giant spider named She-Bob! We did? Where was I?" Dark Hunter argued with himself.
Junkee blinked and said, "You've. . . . changed a little since I last saw you, Dark."
"Really?" Dark Hunter smiled. "In what ways?"
"Well, one you're thinner, two you're an alcoholic, and three you have a split personality disorder."
"He knows too much, we must feed him to the spider now! Shhhhh! . . . . But uhh, yes, I am an overly thin alcoholic but I don't know what you're talking about with a split personality. . . I mean, me? Come on!" Dark Hunter waved his hand like the thought of such a disorder was ludicrous. "Good save! Thanks."
"Uhhhhh huh, right well-"
"I found Vader," Dark Hunter said, interrupting him.
Junkee frowned, "You did?"
"Yes! He's this way! Come on, I'll show you!"
Junkee grimaced in pain as he got to his feet, and then began to follow Dark Hunter away.
Thanks for reading, everyone. And please leave a comment. Hope you continue to read next weeks as well!
-- Dr. Junkee
EXECUTIVE PRODUCERS
Kyle 'JPJunkee' Warner
&
Yvonne Bartha
8/22/2003 1:36:56 AM
(Updated: 8/22/2003 1:34:53 PM)
(Updated: 8/22/2003 2:05:37 PM)
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