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The Misadventures of Dr. Junkee (part 10)
By JPJunkee
THE BEGINNING OF THE END OF THE END
"I'm thirsty!" Bob wailed in the back of Dr. Junkee's head.
Junkee rolled his eyes. He was still following the trail of footprints in the road, and hopefully closing in on Martin. "You're not thirsty. This is my body. If anything, I'm thirsty," Junkee said.
"Fine then! You're thirsty! Get something to drink, now. I command it!" Bob roared.
Junkee sighed. He saw a McDonalds at the side of the road. He knew he probably had time to catch up with Martin. After all, Martin was only a janitor, and Junkee was driving a Dodge Viper. He shrugged his shoulders, and then pulled into the drive up of the McDonalds. He then pulled up to the little order box thing (do those bloody things even have a name?), and awaited the mechanical voice to greet him.
Within a couple seconds, a wimpy young voice came on. "Hello, welcome to McDonalds. Would you like to try a McRib sandwich today, ma'am?"
Junkee's face grew red. "Ma'am?! Why the bloody hell would you just assume I was of the female gender?"
"I don't know, ma'am," said the voice.
"Gah! I am a man! MAN!" Junkee yelled.
"Sure whatever you say, ma'am. If you have gender issues, that's not my problem. Now, would you like to try a McRib."
Junkee shouted, "Stick that McRib up your ass! Just give me a Pepsi!"
"Sure thing, your total is. . . hmmm. . . uhh. . . add the ten, subtract the. . . . uhhh. . . put in the tax. . . uhh. . ."
"Grrr," Junkee growled, and then pulled up to the other window.
A pimply faced geek with red hair and no eyelashes stuck his head out the window, and said in the same wimpy voice, "Three dollars."
"Three dollars?! Whatever happened to a buck fifty?"
"Stop living in the old, lady. Welcome to the thirty first century."
"You're really off your rocker, you know that?" Junkee said as he handed the pimply kid three dollars.
The kid then handed Junkee his drink. Junkee took out his piece of gum then sipped the drink through his straw, then proceeded to spit out the drink all over the dash board.
"What the hell is this? I said Pepsi! This is Coke!" Junkee barked.
The pimply kid shook his head, "McDonalds only sells Coke, ma'am."
Junkee threw the drink at the pimply kid. The paper cup hit him in the face, and he was instantly showered in Coke.
"That was uncalled for!" the kid cried.
"Pepsi's better!" Junkee yelled as he gave the kid the finger and then drove off. Once back onto the road, and following the foot prints once more, Junkee put the gum back in his mouth and let out a long sigh. "Do I look or sound like a woman?"
"Ummm. . . . no comment," Bob said.
"Oh. . . bah!"
* * *
Dark Hunter panted as he continued to run after CeratosPit. In CeratosPit's possesion, was the mighty Gorblat beetle that could sing like friggin Celine Dion. . . yeah.
"You've almost got him!" Dan cried enthusiastically in the back of Dark Hunter's head.
Dark Hunter wiped the sweat from his brow, then yelled to CeratosPit in between breaths, "You. . . can't. . . run. . . forever!"
"Yes! Good! Remind him that his cause is useless! Good job, chap!"
"Neither can you!" CeratosPit shouted back.
"Dang, he's a clever one."
"I'm. . . gonna. . . catch you!" Dark Hunter wheezed.
"You need to get in better shape," Dan commented.
"Go to hell."
"Ha! Impossible! I am the Light God, DAN!!! Barlememembababa!"
"Crazy hobo! Stop talking to yourself!" CeratosPit cackled.
Suddenly, a person ran up from behind Dark Hunter, and then began to run beside him. The person smiled at Dark Hunter and asked, "Need assistance?"
Dark Hunter just nodded.
The other guy smiled even wider, then cried out, "Tak taki!" and accelerated towards CeratosPit. The man jumped up onto CeratosPit's back, and wrestled him to the ground, then began to beat him over the head with a stick until CeratosPit was unconscious.
Dark Hunter came staggering up to CeratosPit's body and the man standing over him. "Gee, thanks stranger." Then, he bent down and took the ring box with the Gorblat within it, out of CeratosPit's hand. "My name is Dark Hunter," he said, as he shook the other guy's hand.
"I'm Vader. Nice to meet you."
"I don't trust this one. He looks diabolical! DIABOLICAL I SAY!" Dan howled.
Dark Hunter smacked the side of his head.
"Sorry. . ."
"How can I repay you?" Dark Hunter asked Vader.
"Oh, no, it was my pleasure. I always enjoy beating people to a bloody pulp. It's my passion. . . . Well, there is one thing, actually," Vader said.
"Name it."
"By any chance have you seen a penguin flying around? He ate my lunch."
"Gah! The Prophet Penguin is here!" Dan shrieked.
"No, I haven't seen a flying penguin," Dark Hunter informed him.
Vader stared at him with a very sincere face. Then, after a long time, he said, "I don't believe you. I can see it in your eyes. You've seen the penguin. . . in fact. . . you are working with the penguin. I bet you shared my lunch with the penguin, too, didn't you? Huh?"
"Umm. . . no."
"Lies! I'll kill you. You weird penguin loving freakazoid!"
"Umm. . . no."
"Run!"
Vader put a pair of brass knuckles onto his hand, and then placed a pair of dark sunglasses over his eyes.
Dark Hunter turned and began to run away, with Dan shouting in his head to run faster.
"Tak taki!" Vader screamed like a war cry, and ran after Dark Hunter.
"Gah!"
* * *
The big green muscular Martin Randle continued to run with Darth Chicken in is oversized hand, to the impound. Martin tried to block out the constant ramble of Darth Chicken, but to no avail.
"Heh, and we had a blast man, let me tell you, we had a blast, we were all dipping and swimming and moving and grooving, I mean you just had to be there man, you had to be there," Darth Chicken said. "So, what was the funeral of your best friend like?"
Martin squeezed so hard that Darth Chicken's eyes began to bulge, and his face turned purple, then Martin said, "I will make peanut butter out of your innards if you do not shut up, now!"
Darth Chicken frowned, "Whoa man, like, chill out, don't be hating, I was just trying to get to know my new best friend some more, that's all, is that so much to ask, is it, huh, is it, tell me!"
Martin stopped running, and then grabbed Darth Chicken's left arm, and yanked it off. Blood squirted everywhere from his shoulder. Darth Chicken looked at the gaping wound on his side, then shrugged, "I've had worse."
Martin growled and then yanked off his other arm.
Darth Chicken looked at the two wounds as blood flew everywhere, then he nodded, "Yeah, okay, I'll shut up now."
Martin smiled then continued to run in the direction of the impound. Soon, the Mop of Magical Majesty would be his once more, and nothing could stop him!
* * *
Yvonne clung to the feet of the flying penguin as they soared over the city. Below them were buildings and streets and all sorts of crap that Yvonne had longed to see, for such a long time. But now, she could hardly even see them. She was very tired and her eyes were so clouded over.
"How much farther?" Yvonne asked. Then she made a big yawn.
"CRAW!" the penguin answered.
"Ohhh. . . I don't think I'll make it that far. I'm too. . . tired."
"CRAW!"
Yvonne yawned again, this time the yawn was very big. Then, her eyelids began to shut ever so slowly. And the next moment, she was snoring. Her hands slipped from the feet of the flying penguin, and she began to plummet to earth. The penguin looked down at her, then shrugged, and kept flying.
* * *
"Hey man, you asked for my opinion. Don't cry to me, and swear to kill me, because I said you look like a woman," Bob said.
Junkee's face was bright red. "I can't believe this! No wonder I can't pick up a date!"
"Ha! Loser can't get a date!"
"I was lying. Women practically throw themselves at me. Some of them I don't even see coming. It's like they're dropping out of the friggin sky," Junkee said.
With a loud crash, something fell through the convertible roof of Junkee's car, ripping the fabric, and landing in the passenger seat. Junkee screamed and pulled off to the side of the road. Once he had stopped the car, he looked at what was in the passenger's seat. It was a woman.
"I must admit, buddy. I thought you were lying. But apparently they do just drop out of the sky," Bob said.
Junkee leaned over to the woman, who was unconscious. Then, he brushed her hair out of her face.
"Ha! It's Yvonne!" Junkee laughed. "Well now, isn't that something?" Yvonne began to snore loudly, and Junkee laughed even harder.
"You know this woman?"
"Sure! She tries to kill me everyday! She's a little bit insane," Junkee said with a big grin.
"Oh yes, that's right! Well then. . . BURN her!"
"You know as tempting as that is, I'm going to have to say no to it. I think it will be much more satisfying if Yvonne wakes up and finds herself in the passenger seat of a speeding car. . . ."
"How the hell could that possibly be more satisfying?"
Junkee shrugged, "I don't know, but the plot kinda requires that she stay alive for a while."
"Oh, I see. Well then. . . drive on!"
Junkee put the car back in gear, and pulled back onto the road and continued to follow the foot prints of Martin Randle.
* * *
Dark Hunter looked over his shoulder. Yep, Vader was still chasing him, and screaming words that weren't even words. Dark's situation seemed hopeless. Vader was faster than him, and would catch him any moment now. . . the world would end because of Vader and a stupid penguin! His mission would now fail! Oh how terrible!
Suddenly, Dark Hunter found himself slipping. His feet went into the air, and he flipped onto the ground. Before looking to find out how he had slipped, he looked back at Vader, and realized that he too had slipped. Then he saw on the street, there was a pool of blood. Gah! He was laying in a pool of blood!
Dark Hunter sprang to his feet, trying to wipe some of the blood off of him. Behind him, Vader was also standing up. Dark Hunter looked around quickly for some sort of weapon. And there, laying in the blood, were two human arms!
"Yay!" Dark Hunter smiled and picked up the two bloody arms. They were all floppy and limp. . . and icky. He held them by the hands and twirled them over his head like whips. Blood splattered everywhere.
"Oh, you're going to beat me with the arms, eh?" Vader said.
"I'm the shizzo!" Dark Hunter yelled with a big grin.
Vader looked confused, "What?!"
"What?!" Dan snapped.
"Tak taki!" Vader screamed and charged at Dark Hunter.
Dark Hunter smiled as he whipped the bloody limp arms around, and smacked Vader across the face. Then, before Vader could recover, he hit him with the other arm. The bloody arms were flying as Dark Hunter released a barrage of attacks on Vader. Until finally, Vader fell to the ground.
Dark Hunter was out of breath. He stared down at Vader, and asked Dan, "Did I kill him?"
"That doesn't matter! Quickly! You have the Gorblat, now go find Junkee!" Dan shouted in the back of his head.
"Right!" Dark Hunter dropped the bloody arms then turned away from Vader and began to run again.
* * *
Martin Randle was getting close. He could practically smell Moppy. In his hand, the bloody body of Darth Chicken continued to ramble on.
"My gym coach, he was a funny lad, he would always talk like 'Yeah buddy! Yeah buddy boy! Yeah buddy buddy boy boy! Hey yeah! Buddy you my boy, buddy! Yeah buddy!' he always made me laugh," Darth Chicken was saying.
Martin's eyes narrowed. Dr. Junkee had tortured him many times before. . . but this. . . it wasn't fair! He looked down at Darth Chicken and snarled.
But, then, at the end of the street. . . he saw it! The Impound! His quest was over! Now, he would find Moppy, and once again, be complete!
"So," Darth Chicken started slowly, "ever kissed a guy?"
Martin held Darth Chicken high up in the air, then brought his arm back, and then chucked him into the sky. Darth Chicken's bloody corpse flew through the air, and finally came crashing down in a tree. Martin smiled, and then slowly approached the Impound.
* * *
Yvonne was now awake, but she still had her eyes closed. She could hear a motor or something. And felt the sensation as if the chair she sat in, was magically moving across the earth. Where was she? Slowly, she opened her eyes. Oh my God! she thought, I'm in a car! It had been so long since she had been in a car. . . . Which brought her to another question. . . why was she in a car?
Slowly, she turned her head, to look at the driver. When she saw the face of Dr. Junkee, she let out a loud piercing scream, "Ahhhhh!!!!"
Dr. Junkee screamed too, "Gahh! Haven't I told you, that you scream like a friggin banshee! Geeze. . . you almost made me swallow my gum."
Yvonne tried to open her door, but it was locked. "What's going on?!" she demanded.
"Get a hold of yourself, Yvonne!"
"You're going to kill me!" Yvonne cried.
Junkee shrugged, "It's crossed my mind."
"Oh God! Let me out, please!"
"Oh shut up! I'm not going to kill you. . .not today, anyway. In fact, I need your help," Junkee said.
Yvonne gave him a questionable look. "What do you need my help for?"
Junkee sighed, then pointed out the windshield. "You see those footprints?"
Yvonne saw the big footprints in the road, and she nodded.
"Those were created by Martin."
"Martin Randle is that heavy?"
"Ugh, no. Martin's become a big monster-creature-dinosaur-man killing-Marvel lawsuit possible-mop wanting-thing. I need some help capturing him," Junkee explained.
"What's in it for me?" Yvonne asked slowly.
"Free pizza good enough for ya?"
Yvonne rolled her eyes. "No."
"Well, how about. . . I don't try and kill you for a week."
"Sounds good!" Yvonne quickly replied.
* * *
The big mass that was Martin Randle, walked up to the front desk of the Impound station. Behind the desk, a teenage girl sat in a chair with headphones on her ears, gum in her mouth, and she was reading one of those stupid teen girl magazines that make men want to vomit with disgust. . . anyway.
"Hello," Martin said to the girl, "My name is Martin Randle."
"Fill out the form," the girl said, never even looking up at him.
"Now, you see, I'm a fugitive from the law, and I've come to pick up my mop," he smiled.
"Your mop? We don't impound mops."
"Police Chief Rick Arnold said that he had my mop impounded."
The girl turned her head away from her magazine and yelled into one of the back rooms, "Hey Vinsfeld! Do we impound mops?"
A voice from a room in the back replied, "Hehe, yeah we do. Why?"
"Some fugitive is here to pick up his mop!"
"No! He can't have the mop! It is mine now! My precious! Moppy doesn't want to leave me, right, Moppy?"
Martin growled and walked around the desk, and approached the room where the person was speaking from. He opened a door, to see a staff lounge sort of room, where in the back, a small geeky looking kid with big old goofy glasses sat stroking the mop.
"Moppy!" Martin cried. "How could you?"
The geeky kid, who had a name tag on his chest that said; 'Vinsfeld' stood up and shouted, "Moppy is mine now!"
"That mop doesn't love you!" Martin barked. "You're not even a janitor!"
"Damn straight I'm not a janitor! I'm a hypocrite!"
Martin picked up a coffee mug that was full to the top with the hot steamy liquid. Then, he took a few steps towards Vinsfeld.
Vinsfeld swung the mop back and forth, "Hey! Don't come any closer or I'll friggin kick your ass like beef jerky. . . you big green monster creature. . . guy."
Martin threw the coffee mug at Vinsfeld. The mug hit him in the face, splashing the hot drink all over him. Vinsfeld dropped the mop and then clutched at his burning face, screaming, "I'm melting! Oh I can't see! I'm blindeded! Come on! Come get some green monster thing man! I'll punch you in the face man! The face man! The face!"
Martin reached down and picked up the mop from the floor. As soon as his hand touched the mop, his skin turned back to normal color, and he began to shrink back to his normal size. Finally! He had the Mop of Magical Majesty!
"Come on, boss man! I punch you!" Vinsfeld continued to shout, while still clutching the burning skin on his face.
Martin smiled as he brought up the mop, twirled it in his hand, and then smacked it over Vinsfeld's left temple. Vinsfeld fell to the floor silently. Martin smiled again, and then casually walked out of the staff lounge.
* * *
A couple miles away. . . in a nice big expensive home. . . with a big dog that barked at big squirrels in the big front lawn. . . at the big table in the big dining room of the big home, sat Drucifer. In front of Drucifer, sitting on the big table, was a big plate with a bunch of good looking food. He stared at the food, and poked at it with his fork. He wasn't hungry. He wasn't happy.
He was thinking.
His wife. . . who we'll just call 'his wife' instead of giving an actual name (I could get sued for that, can you believe it? Ha!), walked out of the kitchen with a glass of ICED SWEET TEA. Because everyone knows. . . sweet tea is better.
His wife sat down at the other side of the table, and looked at Drucifer. "What's the matter, honey?" she asked.
Drucifer sighed, and lowered his shoulders, "I don't know. . . nothing."
"You seem bothered."
"Oh?! Are you my psychiatrist?!" he barked.
His wife was a little startled by that. "You lower your voice or I'll let the big dog that's barking at the big squirrels in the big front lawn eat your food!"
Drucifer nodded, "I'm sorry. I just. . . got a lot on my mind."
"Like what?"
"Well. . . my work hasn't been going very well, lately."
"How's that?"
"Well, you remember the cyborg army I made?"
His wife rolled her eyes. Yes, of course she remembered the cyborgs. All Drucifer ever talked about was the cyborgs. Why, while they were still in working order, Drucifer would talk to them as if they were his children. Taking them to church, bringing them to Pizza Hut, sharing his medication with them. But instead of saying how much of a weirdo he had been around the cyborgs, she only replied, "Yes, I remember them."
"Yeah, well, after they were destroyed. . . I haven't exactly been doing very well. I mean, I tried to make new designs, but they all seem to fail miserably."
"What about the S-Project?"
"S-Project is a failure too. It's taken me one thousand, two hundred and twenty three attempts at the S-Project, just to get where I am now. . . which is nowhere."
"What are you going to do?" she asked.
Drucifer frowned as he got to his feet. "I don't know. . . . But I want to see the world! I want to save the world! I want to save Yvonne! I want to kill Junkee! I want to eat cheese! And I want to make a teeny tiny little robot poodle that will liquefy tomatoes." Then Drucifer turned away from his seat and began to walk out of the room.
"Okay, but eat your lunch first!" his wife called.
Drucifer sighed, and walked back to the big table.
* * *
In the Viper, Dr. Junkee continued to drive at break neck speed (well, of course not literally, or he would be dead). Beside him in the passenger seat, Yvonne held onto her seat belt, bracing herself with each turn Junkee made.
"Look!" Yvonne yelled. "The footprints in the road end at the end of this street!"
Junkee stopped the car. Indeed, Yvonne was right. The footprints ended at the end of the street. . . at the Impound. Then, right before his eyes, a man stepped out of the Impound with a mop in his hands.
"It's Martin!" Yvonne cried with a smile on her face.
"Damn! He doesn't look like a green monster! He looks like a friggin janitor!" Bob declared in the back of Junkee's head.
"He's not a monster!" Junkee yelled. "What a rip-off! I wanted to have a big fight! Dammit to hell!" Junkee put the car in gear, then gripped the steering wheel harder. "Hold on, Yvonne."
"What're you going to do?" Yvonne asked.
Junkee smiled, and put his foot on the gas, pushing the pedal to the floor.
* * *
Dark Hunter ran along the sidewalk. His street was ending now, and was leading to a four way intersection. Slowly, he stepped out into the intersection, and looked all around him.
"Didn't your mommy ever tell you to look both ways before ENTERING the street? You're in the middle of it lad!" Dan said.
"My mommy likes mango slushies," Dark Hunter explained.
"Oooooooookay. . . ."
"That's all I really remember about my mom."
"Oh."
"Hey look down there! That guy with the mop! Is that the guy who busted my Mustang?!" he yelled.
"Why yes it is. That's Martin Randle! Ha! The chap isn't green and pasty looking anymore!"
"I've got a few words to share with that guy. . . words like; 'You'. . .and 'are'. . . . and 'a jerk!'. Why, if he didn't have that mop, I'd beat the crap out of him. . . that asshole---"
Dark Hunter didn't even see or hear the Dodge Viper as it struck him from behind and sent him spiraling into the air.
* * *
"You just hit someone!" Yvonne shrieked.
"Yeah, but he was a hobo. I'm helping to clean the world! I kick ass!" Junkee yelled as he continued to race towards Martin Randle at the end of the street.
"Remind me again why you feel you must kill Martin," Yvonne said.
Junkee shrugged and looked at Yvonne. "Something to do, I guess."
Yvonne pointed ahead of them, and screamed, "Look out!"
Junkee turned his attention back to the road, just as the mop went sailing through the windshield, nearly striking his left eye. Junkee shifted his head to the side dodging the mop, but lost control of the Viper, and went swerving into a telephone pole.
Junkee and Yvonne sat in the car, breathing hard. Junkee looked at the mop, that had just narrowly missed him. Yvonne looked pale, and terribly frightened. Junkee looked at the hood of his car, it was all smashed in and looked like it had been given to a giant dog as a chew toy (hehe. . . hmm, yeah).
"Whoa. . . almost swallowed my gum. . . . Are you okay?" Junkee asked quietly.
"Yeah. . . yeah. . . yeah," Yvonne replied, gasping for breath.
"Damn," Junkee sounded disappointed.
"Woohoo! That was fun! One more time!" Bob exclaimed.
* * *
Drucifer poked at his food again. His wife was out of the room, so he felt free to make rude faces at the plate of food before him. This was going nowhere. In order to do what he wanted to think he needed to do, he needed to eat his lunch. But it was cold! Who eats cold pizza, honestly?!
The sound of something tapping against a window caught his attention. Looking away from his blasted lunch, he turned to the window of the dining room. There, outside the window, stood the biggest penguin he had ever seen.
"Gah! The aliens have come for me again!" Drucifer cried as he stared at the penguin with watery eyes of fear.
Outside the penguin said, "CRAW!"
Drucifer nodded quickly, "Oh. . . I see. You're actually not an alien. You're actually a Prophet Penguin sent by the SomethingOrOthers to stop the evil from destroying the world. And you were once carrying Yvonne, but she was too sleepy so she fell. And now you need my help (Drucifer takes a deep breath, then continues to ramble) to stop the evil!"
The penguin looks astonished that Drucifer could have gotten all of that from a single 'CRAW'. . . and yes, penguins can look astonished.
"Well, come on in penguin man!" Drucifer said as he opened the window for the penguin.
"CRAW!" The penguin said as it entered his home.
"Ohhh. . . my new science projects, eh? You really think I can help you thwart the evil Dark God, and save the world?"
"CRAW!"
"In that case. . . let me show you what I've been working on!" Drucifer led the penguin from the dining room, and into the basement. There, everything was ALL SHINY. . . because Drucifer was a scientist. . . and scientists like shiny stuff. . . it's a fact. Drucifer then led the big fat bird to the back of the basement.
There was scrap metal all over here. . . . and there was also other sorts of stuff that most scientists have in their labs. . . but I don't have time to type it all, so just use your imagination. . . slacker!
Drucifer approached a big steel door, that had the label; "S-PROJECT" slapped across it. "This," Drucifer said, "is my newest creation."
He opened the door, and mist and smoke pillowed out (like all doors in labs do). Then, from within the smoke, stepped out the figure of a man. The man had a bushy beard, small glasses over his eyes, a big old baseball cap on his head, and a tie dye shirt on.
"This, is my newest cyborg! He fights crime, eats cheese, saves people, directs movies that seem to never get the Academy's attention. . . and. . . he is an exact replica of Steven Speilberg. It took me over a thousand tries to get his beard just right. . . thus, I call him. . . . Speilberg1213!!!!! Muahahahaha!"
"CRAW!"
Only two more episodes left until the end of the season! What will happen?! . . . please tell me, what will happen, I kinda need to know. . . yeah.
Thanks for reading. . . it obviosuly didn't take long to write this, so it shouldn't take long for you to comment. . . . so comment!
The Gorblat is © Copyrighted by Dark Hunter and the lightGREYdark stories. . . which kick ass!
-- Dr. Junkee
5/15/2003 12:36:56 AM
(Updated: 5/15/2003 12:49:56 AM)
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