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Posts Tagged ‘Edwin Cloudstar’

The Apocalyptic Council: Suddenly, an End!

Posted by meekrat on September 30, 2010

The head of the Apocalyptic Council sat at his desk in the darkness. He couldn’t remember being a young man. He couldn’t remember being an old man, either. He could only remember the days when he had been less ancient, but he truly wanted to remember his younger days so he could undo the curse of immortality that had been placed upon him. This was the reason he had founded the Council, after all. Surely the end of the world would end him as well. It was all he dreamed about, all he wanted: the sweet embrace of death. He could not even remember the name he had been given at birth, and simply called himself Checker. He couldn’t remember why.

The door opened, letting in a sliver of light and a young man with claws.

Checker squinted, his ancient eyes rapidly adjusting to the light. “Ah, Joshua.”

Joshua leaned against the wall and took a steel file out of his pocket and began to sharpen his claws, “How are you doing today?”

“Absolutely wretchedly,” Checker hobbled over to a file cabinet and began paging through its files, “Any luck?”

“None whatsoever,” said Joshua, “We’ve sent out many agents to try and find out who you are and why you’re still alive. No luck yet. Also, we’ve had an infiltration.”

Checker slammed the file cabinet shut and hobbled back over to his desk, “Has it been taken care of?”

“Kind of,” said Joshua.

Checker cursed under his breath, “Kind of. How do you kind of take care of an infiltration? Did someone escape?”

“Nothing like that. We seem to have attracted some very interesting individuals.”

“How interesting?”

“Charleston Charge, for one.”

Checker hobbled back over to the file cabinet and began paging through the files contained within. The cabinet was a surrogate memory, though some things had been forgotten entirely. Joshua sat and waited patiently for Checker to pull out a file, read it, place it back into the cabinet, and hobble back to his desk.

Checker grinned, though his teeth had long ago been replaced with dentures, “Charleston Charge, eh? Good thing you’ve captured that one. According to my memory, he’s quite important. Could have put this entire operation in jeopardy.”

“That’s not all. We also captured a young man named Edwin Cloudstar. No, don’t bother going to your cabinet. He’s not in your memory,” said Joshua.

“He sounds familiar, though,” said Checker, “So familiar. Cloudstar. Hm. If he’s not in the cabinet then he can’t be important. Good work, all the same.”

“We also captured the Impossible Mister Frink and Vincenzo Fitzpatrick,” said Joshua.

Checker’s eyes lit up, “I remember those lads! Dashing young men. I remember seeing them so many years ago. Weren’t there more?”

“Yes. They weren’t here, but I think we should take the precaution of contracting some outside help with this. I’ve got contacts out there, and there’s probably more than a few people who would like a piece of the Basset Hound Brigade,” said Joshua.

Checker nodded, “No. The Basset Hound Brigade and Charleston Charge? We’ve got to move our operation.”

Joshua balked, “Do we have time?”

Checker chuckled, “You know damn well that you and I have all the time in the world.”

“I know that, but really, sir. We’re on a time-table.”

“We’ve got time. It’s better to just move than to have our whole operation dismantled by the likes of them. Get on it, please. Release the prisoners, first. Give them a fight, but let them go. We mustn’t let on that they haven’t won, nor can we kill them. It’ll bring the rest of them down upon us” said Checker, leaning back in his chair.

“Of course,” Joshua left the room, grinning. He was itching for a fight.


Charleston Charge paced the cell while Mister Frink sat in the corner and thought. Vinny Fitzpatrick gazed longingly out the window while Edwin Cloudstar remained up against the wall, being unable to move.

“Back in the day, we could count on the Little Spick to get us out of jams like this,” said Vinny with a sigh, “Back in the day. I wonder what he’s up to?”

“He’s dead,” said Mister Frink, “I think Orphan Freelance is still operational.”

“That’s sort of racist, isn’t it?” asked Charleston, who had stopped in his tracks upon hearing “the Little Spick”.

“It was a different time. Now, are we going to go through with this plan?” asked Mister Frink.

“It don’t feel right, Mister Frink, killin’ some lad,” said Vinny, “Even if he says he’ll just pop back.”

“It’s the only way,” said Edwin.

Vinny slumped to the ground, “Can’t we just wait for something to happen to you?”

“It’s impossible for anything to kill Edwin while we’re sitting in this cell,” growled Mister Frink.

Just then, a meteorite came flying through the window, hitting Edwin square between the eyes. It plowed through his brain and burrowed itself deeply into the wall. Vinny stared.

“We must act!” screamed Mister Frink, throwing himself against the door. It budged slightly, and Charleston aided him in the next impact. The door broke off of its hinges.

“Grab Edwin!” said Mister Frink, striding down the hallway. There were no guards. This bothered him.

Charleston threw Edwin’s body over his shoulder and Vinny followed. The quartet walked down the hallway to the next door, easily opening it.

“This can’t be right,” said Mister Frink, “There’s nothing in here but the sword.”


In the realm between life and death, Edwin watched as his companions carried his body down the hallway. There was a tap on his shoulder and he turned to see a tan red-headed woman wearing a purple blazer and skirt, holding a clipboard.

“Nice to see you again,” she said.

“Nice to see you, too, Camilla. I’m pretty sure I haven’t fulfilled the prophecies,” said Edwin.

Camilla looked at her clipboard, “No. Of course you haven’t. So what mess have you gotten into this time?”

Edwin pointed to Charleston, “I’m helping that guy with the hat stop a group dedicated to the Apocalypse. They had to kill me so that they could reunite me with my sword.”

“Fun,” Camilla wrote something on her clipboard and it vanished, “How’d you get separated from it in the first place? You haven’t died for a while.”

“What?” Edwin’s brow furrowed, “Then how did this happen?”

“I don’t know,” said Camilla, “Well, looks like it’s time for you to get back to living. Be careful. Not that I don’t like seeing you, of course.”

“Of course,” Edwin vanished from the realm.


Fifteen minutes later, the quartet was wandering through the mysteriously empty halls.

“This isn’t right,” said Mister Frink.

“You’re telling me,” said Charleston Charge, sidling along the wall.

“I feel a disturbance,” said Edwin, stopping dead in his tracks, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his sword, “Not really. It’s more of just bad mojo.”

Joshua stepped around the corner, his claws shining, “Hello. You can’t leave here alive.”

Edwin stopped and stared at Joshua, his hand resting on the sword’s hilt, and suddenly things made sense.

“Maddon! He’s you!” shouted Vinny.

“I’d love to know your history sometime,” said Joshua Cloudstar, “Not right now. Right now, we’re going to test your immortality.”

Edwin Cloudstar drew his sword, “Same to you.”

“So witty,” Joshua ran forward, claw raised. He brought it down, meeting Edwin’s sword and giving off sparks.

“Run,” said Edwin, attempting to force Joshua forward. Despite being dimensional twins, Joshua was stronger, and so this attempt met with failure.

As the pair continued to battle, Mister Frink and the others were running through the compound. Suddenly, there was a flash of light, and they fell to the ground.


Vinny Fitzpatrick awoke to find himself on Mister Frink’s couch. Charleston Charge was eating a plate of waffles on a cot next to him, while Mister Frink was already up and about. Edwin Cloudstar was nowhere to be seen, but Mister Frink’s son was there.

“Are you sure you don’t want the Neo-Bassets to track these people down?” he said, not wearing his uniform.

“You know them?” said Charleston, in between mouthfuls.

Brian Frink stopped, and then nodded slowly, “Yes. I’m their pal.”

“What happened?” said Vinny.

“Ah, good. You’re awake,” said Mister Frink, “It’s been nearly a week. To be perfectly honest, I’m not entirely sure what happened. All I know is that that compound has vanished into nothingness.”

“So we won?” said Vinny.

“I can only assume so,” said Mister Frink, pouring some tea.

“For the first time in years, I have nothing to do,” said Charleston, “It feels weird. I tell you what, though. I’m tendering my resignation with Brachiosaur. I’m going to do things my own way from now on. Maybe start a detective agency.”

“Bully for you,” said Mister Frink.

Vinny walked over to the table and took a cup of tea, “What happened to Edwin?”

“I don’t know,” said Mister Frink.

“The Neo-Bassets could find out,” said Brian.

“No. I don’t think we could find these people again unless they wanted to be found,” said Mister Frink.


Edwin Cloudstar floated in the void between universes once again, shunted once the Apocalyptic Council’s compound transported itself to its new location. Joshua was nowhere to be seen, and Edwin couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to his dimensional twin that made him think the Apocalypse was a good idea. Oh well. Soon, Edwin would either find his way back to a universe at some point soon.


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The Apocalyptic Council: Mister Frink’s Holiday

Posted by meekrat on September 27, 2010

Note: This is the finale of Choose Your Own Blogventure.
Note #2: This takes place before March Meekrat Madness 2010.

Charleston Charge awoke to find himself in a closet, and remembered what he was doing there. There was a conspiracy to bring about the Apocalypse, or at least to keep it on track, and Charleston had somehow become responsible for making sure that the world didn’t end. He opened the door to see a tribe of Mayans standing in the hallway, some walking and chatting with each other, some drinking coffee. They all turned to him and Charleston slammed the closet door behind him and hoped and prayed that his ally, Edwin Cloudstar, was able to find him.


Deep within the bowels of the Apocalyptic Council’s headquarters, Edwin Cloudstar sat in a dank dungeon. It wasn’t the worst dungeon he had ever been in, to be certain, but it was still quite annoying because they somehow knew how to circumvent the mystical connection he had with his sword. Again, not the first time, but no less annoying than all the other times. He sat and hoped that his ally, Charleston Charge, would be able to find him.


The Impossible Mister Frink sat in his breakfast nook, sipping some tea and reading his paper, basically enjoying his morning. His adopted son, Brian, was off on some adventure with some costumed heroes, so it was a fairly quiet day. Most days had been quiet since the unofficial disbanding of the Basset Hound Brigade, in fact. Not too quiet, of course. A man like Mister Frink knew how to create his own excitement, after all, but it was still nice to have a quiet day every now and again.

There was a knock at the door, the sort of knock that insinuated that if you didn’t open the door, then it would be opened by force. Were Brian there, Mister Frink likely would have continued sitting there enjoying the comic strips. Since he wasn’t, he cracked his knuckles and walked over to the door.

Vinny Fitzpatrick was standing on the other side, holding his aviator cap and goggles in front of him.

Mister Frink sighed and opened the door, “Good morning, Vincenzo. What brings you here?”

“I know we only get the ol’ team back together for big things, Mister Frink, but I got word that there’s the mother of all trouble brewin’ down south,” said Vinny.

“Very well,” said Mister Frink, “I suppose we’re expected to just go down there and solve things?”

“I was hoping,” Vinny smiled, “Only I wasn’t able to get anyone else.”

Mister Frink’s eyebrow raised, “What’s Douglas and Jenkins doing that are so important?”

“They’re on a case,” said Vinny, “And Mister Lucky’s nowhere to be found.”

“He’s busy with that blasted literature club,” replied Mister Frink, grabbing his overcoat, “Details, Vincenzo! Details!”

They walked to Mister Frink’s private airstrip, and along the way Vinny explained how he had found himself in contact with the new iteration of the spy organization, CAST, most notably a young woman who called herself E. A young man she knew had traveled south months ago and no one had heard from him since, and she was unable to travel there herself. Since she knew Vinny’s history with the Basset Hound Brigade, she hoped that he would at least check into it, which eventually led him to this point.

Mister Frink nodded, “Do we know where this complex is?”

“She says she don’t know,” said Vinny, “Could we take your plane? Only I had a bit o’ trouble wit’ mine.”

Vinny’s plane had been crashed, like the vast majority of his planes, into a small grove of trees several hundred yards from the airfield. He had never been able to land, except in the direst of circumstances. Mister Frink just tossed him the keys to the plane and hoped for the best.


Several hours later, the pair flew over some farmland.

“Have you been here before?” asked Mister Frink, pointing to a crashed bi-plane.

“Never,” said Vinny, “I think we’re on the right track. Look!”

A giant monster loomed in front of them, lumbering down the road, its massive black wings flapping slowly. As far as such things went, it wasn’t that terrifying, having the normal amount of arms and legs. Of course, all these arms and legs were tentacles, and its head looked like an octopus. It looked up and its giant coal-black eyes narrowed.

“It’s seen us, Mister Frink!” shouted Vinny, who threw the plane into a dive.

“Pull up, lad! Pull up!” screamed Mister Frink.

It was too late. The tentacle monster reached out and plucked the plane from the air. Instead of crushing it, he placed it gently on the ground, and then shrank, pulling his wings inwards. They formed a cloak around his body. He slithered over to the plane and knocked on the window.

“Are you two all right?” slobbered the demon.

Mister Frink and Vinny stared out the window, a look of shock upon Mister Frink’s face. Vinny, however, was either too afraid or too dumb to realize that he should be afraid, and gave the monster a thumbs-up. He hopped out of the plane.

“I’m so sorry about that,” said the tentacle monster, grasping Vinny’s hand, “I was in deep thought. I didn’t mean to make you crash.”

“No harm done,” said Vinny, gently pulling his hand away, “Say, you couldn’t tell us where some base for a bunch o’ Apocalypse nut-jobs is, could you?”

Mister Frink groaned.

“You’re the second two guys I’ve met today who are on their way there,” said the tentacle monster, “I’m S’treafael, but please, call me Steve. It’s right up the road. I’d love to help you storm the place, but I’m probably already in deep with my uncle.”

“No worries,” Vinny smiled. He saluted Steve and hopped back into the plane, “He said — ”

“I know what he said,” said Mister Frink, “Take us there, and for the love of God, keep us alive until we get there.”


Charleston Charge sat in the closet. He had built a small-scale model of his homeland, the Lost City of Uhld, out of various janitorial supplies. He pulled a voice recorder out of his pocket. He clicked the record button, “While trying to figure out what to do, I’ve built my home town. I would build a scale model of this place, but I’m not entirely sure what this place looks like.” He clicked it off and put the recorder back in his coat.

“At least they’re not trying to kill me,” said Charleston, idly knocking over bits of his model with flicks of his fingers, “They could totally get in here if they wanted to. Kill me right off.”

He leaned on his side and thought about taking a nap when he heard a noise. By the time he realized what it was, a small plane had crashed into the wall. Charleston barged through the door, knocking it from his hinges, and continued running down the hallway, holding onto his fedora-like hat. Behind him, the plane continued to come, by this time its wings had snapped off and it was just the cockpit and fuselage sliding down the hallway, knocking over Mayans left and right. It began to slow, and Charleston braced himself for its impact, hoping his low-level super-strength would be enough to stop it entirely.

The plane slid into his ready hands and his feet began to skid down the hallway, but Charleston could tell that the plane was slowing down. Behind him, a wall continued coming towards him, and he hoped he would stop before he became a pancake.

He grinned and laughed, “After all, I prefer waffles.”

Soon, the plane stopped, several feet away from the wall. Charleston stepped back and sat heavily on the ground, trying to catch his breath. The plane’s doors opened and two men he recognized as the Impossible Mister Frink and Vinny Fitzpatrick hopped out.

Vinny looked at him, “You Charleston Charge?”

“I am,” said Charleston.

“We’re here to rescue you, though it may not look like it,” said the Impossible Mister Frink, “Now then, shall we get going?”

“Not yet,” said Charleston, “My friend is somewhere in this complex. Also, these people are trying to bring about the Apocalypse. Or make sure it happens. I’m not really sure. We have to stop it.”

“You were trying to stop it by yourself?” said Mister Frink, obviously impressed.

“No,” said Charleston, “I had a friend with me. Is Mister Lucky with you guys?”

“He was busy with other matters,” said Mister Frink, “Though I’m sure if he thought he was required to stop these people, then he’d be here by now.”

Vinny nodded, “Do you know where this friend of yours is?”

“No,” said Charleston again, “We got separated when we came in.”

“Damn and blast,” growled Mister Frink, “It’ll be impossible to find him!”

Just then, all the Mayans that had fled when the plane began to crash through the hallway returned. They took their spears and pointed them at the two Bassets and Charleston Charge. It didn’t take a genius to know what they wanted.


“I’m so glad you found me,” said Edwin, “I really mean that. Even if this really stinks as a rescue attempt.”

Charleston Charge was shackled to the wall next to him, with shackles strong enough to withstand his super-strength, “It’s not like we planned this.”

“I know. At least we’re all together now,” said Edwin, “Who are those guys?”

Vinny smiled, lying on his side. Both his hands and ankles had been tied. Mister Frink has shackled to the wall on the opposite side of Edwin and Charleston.

“Those are Vinny Fitzpatrick and Mister Frink. Two members of the Basset Hound Brigade,” said Charleston, “They’re adventurers. Bassets, this is Edwin Cloudstar.”

“Are they? Good,” said Edwin, “I’ve seen stranger.”

“Your hands aren’t bound,” said Mister Frink.

“They don’t need to. My sword’s on the other side of this wall, and the only way it leaves my back is if I grab hold of its hilt,” said Edwin, “It’s a mystical thing.”

“Vincenzo is, for some reason, not secured in any way,” said Mister Frink, “I can’t imagine why our captors would do this, but we can work this to our benefit. Vincenzo, please see if you can make your way over to Edwin. Good, good. Now, Edwin, can you untie Vinny’s hands? Good. I would hate to have to stand alone against these ruffians.” Mister Frink took a deep breath and then tore his shackles from the wall, freeing himself.

Charleston’s eyes went wide, “You’re super-strong?”

“Indeed I am, though I do prefer to use my wits instead of my fists. Needs must, however,” said Mister Frink. He grabbed hold of Charleston’s shackles, “On the count of three, boy! One. Two. Three!”

The shackles resisted at first, remaining secure against the wall, but eventually gave when Vinny lent his own strength to the effort.

“Now what?” said Edwin, still unable to free himself, “How am I going to get free?”

“What would Mister Lucky do?” asked Vinny.

Mister Frink chose to ignore that comment, knowing full well that there was no way he could match Mister Lucky’s intelligence. He was still quite formidable in that department, able to craft machines that pushed against the laws of the universe. Mysticism was not one of his strong suits, however, and so the mechanisms of the sword’s bond with Edwin were a puzzle he could not solve. Something else puzzled him, though.

“How did you get into this position in the first place?” asked Mister Frink.

“They killed me and tossed my body in here, and my sword in the other room,” said Edwin, “When I came to, I was stuck against this wall.”

“Hold on, killed you?” said Vinny, stepping back, “You a vampire?”

“No, I just can’t stay dead,” said Edwin, “I’m still not entirely sure how they did this. Usually, the only one able to lift my sword is me.”

Charleston turned to Mister Frink, “Couldn’t you just impossible us out of this situation?”

“It’s passive,” said Mister Frink, “So if you’re killed, the sword can leave your body, but the only one who can lift your sword is you?”

“That’s what I said. I guess they could have moved my body,” said Edwin.

“You’re not from this place, are ya?” asked Vinny, “You got the air of a traveler about ya.”

“No, I’m from a different universe,” said Edwin.

Vinny nodded, “You don’t stay in this business this long without picking up a few things.”

“We could smash through the prison door and the door to wherever they put Edwin’s sword, and then kill Edwin and carry his body to his sword,” said Charleston Charge, “Not the perfect plan, I grant you, but it’s the only one I’ve got.”

“Could work,” said Edwin.


Elsewhere in the compound, the second-in-command of the Apocalyptic Council sat and watched their captives on a closed-circuit television. He was sure they didn’t know they were being watched, and was quite pleased that none of them had realized what had gone on. He smiled. It was only a matter of time now.

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MMM 2010: Finale Finale

Posted by meekrat on August 3, 2010

Shoshy Raphael: I’ll go. Consider it a part of my penance.
Iavi: How are you going to get him up there?
Shoshy Raphael: By using my ring! Also, Baggy Satan.
Baggy Satan: Not so sure that’s a good idea, guv’ner.
Shoshy Raphael: Of course it is. Now get us to the top of that mountain of goo!
[Baggy Satan sighs and grabs Edwin Cloudstar and Shoshy Raphael. Edwin Cloudstar deflects the blasts as much as he can, until they reach the top of the beast.]
Edwin Cloudstar: Here I go.
[Edwin Cloudstar drops and sinks through the goo, still holding the bomb, and disappearing from sight. Shoshy Raphael and Baggy Satan fly to the top of the Coliseum of the Stupid to watch what happens.]
Baggy Satan: Shouldn’t you be down there?
Shoshy Raphael: No. I’ve done more than enough, and I refuse to die here today.
Baggy Satan: What about all the other blokes?
Shoshy Raphael: After this… thing is dead and gone I’ll scour the bodies to find the other rings. Then I’ll wear them all. It should grant me great power. I doubt even the Stupid could stand to face me.
[An explosion takes place at the core of Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew, causing him to be blown to bits. Edwin Cloudstar walks out of the totally ruined stadium, not looking at the explosion behind him. While everyone’s eyes are on the explosion, Shoshy Raphael and Baggy Satan sneak to the back of the group. Edwin Cloudstar, Shoshy Raphael, and Baggy Satan reach the group.]
Iavi: Good job, kid! Quick thinking. I don’t think there’s any way that thing can come back now.
Xavier Malcolm: Yeah, unless he becomes an energy being or something. What are the chances of that, though?
Baco: Really! The chances of such a thing happening are at least a million to one!
Antwon: Two million to one, perhaps!
Bukake: Look! Something emerges from the danger zone!
[All look to see a ghostly image of Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew‘s face floating over the stadium. It unleashes two crackles of energy, totally vaporizing the Coliseum of the Stupid and the Hippodrome of Lamp Prime.]
Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew: I have become more than mortal! You have aided me to shed my fragile shell and now I exist as pure thought, pure energy! Taste my wrath!
[The Bear Machine,, its googly eyes shaking, begins shooting bears out with such ferocity that they fly at the energy.]
Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew: There was once a time when I would grant you mercy, but that time is gone, lifetimes ago!
Mike P: That was like an hour ago!
Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew: No matter!
[Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew vaporizes the Bear Machine, and Purga the Demon-Thing.]
Iavi: What the hell?
Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew: He was plotting, as you all are! I will destroy each and everyone one of you!
Iavi: Champions. Idea time.
Mike P: He’s made of pure energy, right?
Iavi: Yes, yes.
Mike P: I absorb energy.
Iavi: Yes!
[Fadeaway is vaporized.]
Mike P: Only, it’s a passive thing. I need Shoshy Raphael to shoot me with his fire, and maybe Purple Lamp to shield me on the way up.
Xavier Malcolm: Of cour —
[Xavier Malcolm is cut off due to being vaporized, along with Baco and Antwon.]
Owen Reilly: Okay!
[Bukake and Logan Keanu Solo are vaporized.]
Iavi: Hurry, before we —
[Iavi is vaporized, along with Xig.]
Shoshy Raphael: Fly, you fool!
[Owen Reilly puts Shoshy Raphael and Mike P in one of his bubbles. As they fly up, Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew is too busy vaporizing Edwin Cloudstar, the Animajor, Baggy Satan, and Jihad Man to care much about them. They reach the top and Mike P flies into the heart of Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew.]
Mike P: It’s… it’s all tingly!
Shoshy Raphael: Are you ready?!
Mike P: Do it!
[Shoshy Raphael begins blasting Mike P with fire, and as he absorbs the fire, he also absorbs the energy form of Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew. Mike P begins to pulsate with power.]
Mike P: Keep it up! He’s almost done!
Shoshy Raphael: I can’t! It’s burning my hand! I’ve never used it for so long before!
Owen Reilly: I’ll help!
[Owen Reilly uses his lamp of power to insulate Shoshy Raphael’s hand from the fire. Soon, the energy form of Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew has almost completely dissipated.]
Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew: You cannot destroy me! I will return, stronger than I was —
[Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew is cut off by the last of his energy being channeled into Mike P. Shoshy Raphael lowers his hand.]
Mike P: Purple Lamp! Make a funnel thing pointing at the sky!
[Owen Reilly does so, and Mike P shoots the energy through it. A faint “flargy margy dargy” can be heard being shot off into space.]
Mike P: So we’re done?
Shoshy Raphael: It would certainly appear that way.
Owen Reilly: I’ll take us down.
[The trio of champions land upon the bloody battlefield. Shoshy Raphael nudges a body with his foot.]
Shoshy Raphael: It would appear we’re the only ones left alive.
Owen Reilly: Hooray?
Mike P: Sort of.
[The Embodiments appear, and the champions tense up, despite being battle-weary and wounded.]
Deity Guy: Calm down, calm down.
Mike P: You sent Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew to try to kill us! It took all our powers to stop him!
The Stupid: Yeah, you did us a favor, there.
Shoshy Raphael: I’ll do you a favor after I find the other four rings, you vile creature!
[Shoshy Raphael bends down and picks up a charred hand.]
Shoshy Raphael: No ring here!
Lamp Prime: Really, guys. We’re not here to hurt you.
Owen Reilly: Okay.
[Owen Reilly sits down on the ground, legs crossed.]
The Stupid: I’ll admit, that whole thing right there? It got a bit out of control towards the end there.
Shoshy Raphael: Out of control? OUT OF CONTROL?! Everyone who came here is dead but the three of us! That’s not out of control, it’s genocide!
Deity Guy: Nothing to worry about. Everything is balanced again now, so it’s all good.
Mike P: Everyone is still dead.
[In the realm between life and death, everyone has abandoned the line and begun milling around.]
Barry, He Who is Death: All right. All right. God, there’s a lot of you. Okay, organize yourselves by age. Oldest first.
[Brachiosaur stands defiantly at the back of the line, while Professor Nick stands at the front. After much conversation, everyone else just stands wherever.]
Barry: Come on, there’s no way a dinosaur is older than a guy.
Brachiosaur: Brachi!
Barry: What?
Wyandotte: He says he’s young at heart.
Barry: I don’t want his heart, I want his soul. But whatever, don’t make my life any easier. Okay, what’s your name?
Professor Nick: Professor Nick!
Barry: Last name?
[Professor Nick looks at him, befuddled.]
Professor Nick: Nick?
Barry: So your first name is Professor?
Professor Nick: Oh, heavens no! That would be silly.
Barry: So what is your first name?
Professor Nick: Nick!
[Barry sighs and looks at the crowd, noticing several people who continually give him trouble such as Leo Leopolous and Mister Frink.]
Barry: Are any of you not going to give me trouble with this?
[There is a murmur of answers, all negative. Barry face-palms.]
Barry: Okay. Okay. Let’s start with someone whose name doesn’t sound like a cartoon character. Steve Chaccierone. Why does that name sound so familiar?
Steve the Chach: Dude!
Barry: Oh god. Not one of you guys.
Steve the Chach: Jon! J-Horn! Jay Jay! Look who it is! Tall skinny guy! All right!
Jonathan Hortenz: Steve, that’s death.
Steve the Chach: Wait, so you’re dead?
Jonathan Hortenz: We’re all dead.
Steve the Chach: Dude. Duuuuuuuuuude. Dude. Wait, wait. Remember that other time we met? At that party?
Barry: Unfortunately.
Steve the Chach: We can do Animaniacs!
Barry: Be quiet about that!
Elvin Clovar: Wait, I think I know the episode he’s referring to!
Player One: Let us do Animaniacs!
Steve the Chach: Yeah! We can challenge you!
[The crowd begins chanting “Animaniacs” and shouting about the Animaniacs rule. Barry sighs.]
Barry: Fine. I need you all to think of a number between one and ten.
Professor Nick: Thirty-seven!
Brachiosaur: Brachi!
Graves: Go to hell!
Elvin Clovar: Negative six!
Metallic Spheroid: Pi!
[Barry looks blankly at the crowd, a feat easily accomplished since he has no eyes.]
Barry: What? You’re just a shape. No, no. Whatever. Oh hey, look at that. You all beat me. You all get to live.
[As everyone pops back to the world of the living, three more arrive. Captain Zimball and Diamond Destiny, now fully clothed and holding hands, look around nervously. The Righteous Smidgen feels his throat.]
Barry: Oh, come on! Where the hell did you three come from?
[Diamond Destiny looks Barry over and immediately drops Captain Zimball’s hand, sidling up to Barry and rubbing her hand over his sleeve. As she does so, she becomes horrified as she realizes only bone is underneath.]
Barry: Stop that, okay? Weren’t you three killed by Baggy Jesus whatever-his-face?
Righteous Smidgen: No. It was Agent Villain.
Barry: Really? You trusted someone with that name not to kill you. It’s your own fault. Please stop touching me, ma’am. I don’t even have any organs.
[Diamond Destiny stops touching Barry and pouts her way over to Captain Zimball. He puts his hand on her shoulder and she brushes it off.]
Barry: Anyway, I just let everyone else who died who wasn’t a time-clone pop back to the world of the living after they challenged me. You want to challenge me, or do you just want to go to the Afterlife?
Righteous Smidgen: I think I’d rather live.
Captain Zimball: I got things I need to do.
Diamond Destiny: Let us live and I’ll give you your wallet back.
[Diamond Destiny holds up a wallet, and Barry touches his pocket where his wallet, certainly, is not. Barry sighs, snaps his fingers, and his wallet is back in his pocket. He points to each of the dead in turn.]
Barry: Biff. Zam. Pow. See you jerks later.
[Back in the realm of the living, everyone suddenly pops back to life as if nothing ever happened.]
Deity Guy: See? No one is dead!
Mike P: But… what… how?
Lamp Prime: I’m feeling sort of down again… Mister Lucky is still dead.
[However, out of the shadows steps a familiar figure.]
Mister Lucky: Did someone say Mister Lucky?
[Elsewhere in the area, Doctor Derangemo teleports in, hurriedly brushing sandwich crumbs off his labcoat. Agent Villain slinks in next to the remaining agents of ZODIAC.]
Mister Lucky: I was never dead! It was a clone!
Shoshy Raphael: You inconsiderate fool! If you had just come clean about being alive, all of this could have probably been avoided!
Mister Lucky: I needed to make sure Agent Villain and the Stupid weren’t up to no good.
The Animajor: Did you find the Righteous Smidgen?
Righteous Smidgen: They did! I guess the Stupid was, in fact, evil. You leave and you learn!
Lamp Prime: You sure do!
[Everyone starts laughing heartily, save Mike P and Shoshy Raphael, who stare at the Embodiments and everyone else, who seem to not care that all the hardships experienced over the past few hours — indeed, the past few weeks — could have been avoided if one man hadn’t faked his death, and if another man had the good sense to realize that a being called the Stupid was, in fact, malevolent.]
Shoshy Raphael: Really! What the bloody hell is this?
Mike P: Seriously!
Deity Guy: Okay, okay. Calm down. We have prizes for you three, and one more for the guy who’s the grand winner of this whole thing!
The Stupid: First, Shoshy Raphael! If you really want to be the Embodiment of Evil, why not?
Shoshy Raphael: Truly?
The Stupid: Nope! You get this gold medallion! If you peel off the gold and look inside, look! It’s chocolate!
[Shoshy Raphael takes the chocolate, nibbles on it, and frowns.]
Shoshy Raphael: Oh. Goodie.
Deity Guy: Next, Mike P. We figured it was only fair for you to get a new resort.
Mike P: Really? Maybe I was wrong —
Deity Guy: Then we decided, nah! Why should we do that? Instead, here’s a gold medallion! If you peel the gold off this one, it’s chocolate!
[Mike P takes the chocolate and bites off a piece and chews. He scowls at the Embodiments.]
Mike P: Gee. Thanks.
Deity Guy: Is it good?
Mike P: [angrily] It’s delicious.
Lamp Prime: Finally, for Owen Reilly, here’s a gold medallion!
Owen Reilly: Oh boy! Is it chocolate?
Lamp Prime: It sure is!
Owen Reilly: ALL RIGHT!
Deity Guy: Now, for the final ultra-special prize. Mike P, you’re the ultra-winner since they kept going with your plans.
Mike P: Hooray. I won this thing last year and you didn’t give me what I wanted.
Deity Guy: Well, this year, you’re going to get a brand new resort on that island with all the heads!
Mike P: Oh. Thanks. Now I feel bad for conning JJ into being willing to foot the bill.
Deity Guy: As well you should! Congratulations! Now then, we hope everyone had a good time here this year, we’ll see you back next year for another tournament!
Iavi: Wait, that’s it? Everything’s all hunky-dory and everyone is friends again?
Lamp Prime: Pretty much.
Iavi: All right.
Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew: Toodles, everyone!
[Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew begins dancing a jig, and everyone claps and laughs. Mike P and Shoshy Raphael look in in disbelief, but as the now benign and diminutive bear continues, they both shrug and allow themselves to smile. As Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew dances, various beings are transported back to their homes.]

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MMM 2010 Finale: Interlude

Posted by meekrat on August 2, 2010

[Meanwhile, on the air submarine…]
Doctor Derangemo: We’re going to crash! Hahahaha!! Isn’t this FUN?!
Captain Zimball: No, this shit ain’t fun at all! The hell’s goin’ on out there?!
[Diamond Destiny grips for Captain Zimball’s crotch, but Captain Zimball moves fast enough to avoid her errant hand.]
Captain Zimball: Damn, girl, shit ain’t right. We about to die!
Diamond Destiny: I don’t care! I’ve never had a black man before, and I won’t die without experiencing the joys of one!
Captain Zimball: I ain’t never had a white girl before, neither…
[Neither really caring or knowing that the other one is lying, Captain Zimball looks deep into Diamond Destiny’s glittering green eyes, and she into his dark brown eyes. Without warning, the air submarine dives as Captain Zimball and Diamond Destiny meet in a lusty embrace. Doctor Derangemo stands by and watches for a moment as the two strip naked before him. Doctor Derangemo‘s expression goes from disgusted to blank, then his eyes light up.]
Doctor Derangemo: That reminds me! I need to clean the oven! Off to the kitchen!
[As Doctor Derangemo leaves, Agent Villain slides in, the shadows covering his movement. He pulls a gun from the holster at his side and screws the silencer into the barrel. Two pulls of the trigger later, Captain Zimball and Diamond Destiny are dead, theirs becoming the ultimate story of coitus interruptus. Agent Villain walks over to the ship’s console, kicking the bodies as he goes, and sits down. Immediately, he takes control of the weapons and starts pushing buttons. The ship’s lasers blast away bits and pieces of Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew‘s gray matter, causing more chaos outside. Agent Villain chuckles to himself as he imagines the sweet destruction that will ensue as a result of his machinations — that is, he imagines this until a familiar voice calls from behind him.]
Mister Lucky: I knew I’d find you here, Agent Villain. Time to put and end to your evil once and for all!
Loveland Frog: So, uh, what’ll you have? Ribbit.
[At the center of the chaos stands a small pub built with scrap metal, stray boulders, and wooden planks left over from the ill-fated war a few rounds ago. Bottles of alcohol adorn the shelf, each lifted from Deity Guy’s liquor closet. Behind the counter stands the Loveland Frog, his once-pristine tuxedo now ripped and tattered as a result of minor quakes and cave-ins due to the violence outside. Sitting at the splintered wooden tables are the stripper-turned-thief Diamond Destiny, the members of the bar-hopping super team known as Danger Force, Tom and Brendan Phillipson, and the mad scientist Doctor Derangemo. Standing at the counter is Captain Zimball, freelance sea captain, zombie hunter extraordinaire, and member of the Astounding Superhero Syndicate.]
Captain Zimball: Rum.
[The most calm and collected member of Danger Force, J-Mike, approaches the counter quietly — his scars, tattoos, army camoflauge pants, and leather jacket painting him as a complete bad ass. After the Loveland Frog gives Captain Zimball his drink, Captain Zimball takes a seat at a table near the Philipsons and Diamond Destiny. Captain Zimball looks at Diamond Destiny, catches her eye, and winks as he holds up his drink, smiling. Diamond Destiny huffs, pouting her lips, and turns her head away to look at the Danger Force: the suave and alluring member, T-Bone; the ruggedly handsome and charismatic R-Man; the persuasive and intellectually intense J-Jeff; the massive, muscular giant called Chops; and, at the counter, the bad boy bad ass known as J-Mike. Doctor Derangemo sips absently at his ginger ale, his mind occupied with an electronic Sudoku puzzler. Captain Zimball smirks to himself, shakes his head, takes a swig of his rum, and listens to the conversations.]
Tom Phillipson: No, dude, you don’t understand. The Holocaust didn’t happen.
Brendan Phillipson: I respectfully disagree.
Loveland Frog: And what can I —
J-Mike: Yeah, heya, Kermit. Listen, I’m gonna need a rum and coke. Hold the fucking ice, though. That shit bruises the alcohol, you know?
[J-Jeff, overhearing the conversation behind him, turns away from his Danger Force comrades and speaks, the alcohol in his blood pushing his ability to argue his point elegantly beyond what is normally considered human.]
J-Jeff: Wait, wait, wait. Hold on. What the fuck do you mean? Of course the Holocaust happened.
Tom Phillipson: Nuh uh. Didn’t happen.
J-Jeff: [turning his chair to face Tom] Bullshit. Explain.
[The Loveland Frog turns his back to J-Mike and mixes his drink.]
Loveland Frog: That’ll be two dollars, ribbit.
J-Mike: [pulling out his checkbook] Two bucks? You better make a damn good drink, Frenchy. Take a check?
Loveland Frog: No. Cash only.
[Brendan Phillipson throws his hands up in the air and gets up from the table. He approaches the counter. Back at the Danger Force table, T-Bone slides his tongue in and out of his mouth, insinuating cunilingus in the direction of Diamond Destiny. R-Man chugs Russian Stout after Russian Stout in an attempt to gain clarity through inebriation. Chops shovels handful upon handful of crab legs into his mouth. Tom Phillipson continues to argue with J-Jeff.]
Tom Phillipson: Like, it’s so obvious. Remember all the videos of the Holocaust?
J-Jeff: Of course I do. That shit’s been burned into my mind. I couldn’t forget it if I wanted.
Tom Phillipson: Well, notice how no one was dancing around when they were rescued?
J-Jeff: Uh, yeah. Yeah, I do.
Tom Phillipson: If the Holocaust happened, why weren’t the victims celebrating?
[If J-Jeff’s eyes shot lasers, his glare would bore a hole into Tom Phillipson’s skull.]
J-Jeff: That’s the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.
Tom Phillipson: No need to be profane, dude. If you disagree, be respectful —
J-Jeff: No, fuck that, and fuck you. You know why no one was celebrating? Because they hadn’t fucking eaten in three years, that’s why!
Tom Phillipson: That’s not true, though. It’s on record that they were fed sawdust and stuff.
[Brendan Phillipson taps the counter impatiently with his two golden presidential dollars.]
Brendan Phillipson: Ahem.
J-Mike: Cash only? What the fuck?
Loveland Frog: Yes, cash only. We’re on the verge of apocalypse. Ribbit. Checks and credit are no good here.
J-Mike: I don’t fucking believe this.
Brendan Phillipson: AHEM.
J-Mike: [turning to Brendan Phillipson] What the fuck do you want, freckles?
Brendan Phillipson: Hey, don’t be so defensive.
J-Mike: Defensive? I’ll show you defensive.
[J-Mike grabs an empty beer bottle from the counter and breaks it over Brendan Phillipson’s head. The freckled conspiracy theorist falls to the ground, his head pouring blood and his eyes welling with tears. J-Mike takes the two gold dollars left behind and slides them to a now nervous Loveland Frog.]
J-Mike: Here’s your two fucking dollars. Where’s my God damned rum and coke?
[Back at the tables, Captain Zimball closes his eyes and imagines he’s somewhere else. Doctor Derangemo mouths false obscenities such as “tiddlywinks” in anger at his electronic sudoku puzzle. Diamond Destiny and T-Bone embrace as Diamond Destiny picks T-Bone’s pockets. R-Man and Chops laugh at the argument between J-Jeff and Tom Phillipson.]
J-Jeff: Sawdust? SAWDUST? You little fucking prick, I should turn you inside-out for even thinking that sawdust is a part of a balanced fucking diet.
Tom Phillipson: Okay, you know what? You’re really not playing nice, here, so I’m just going to get up and walk away.
[Tom Phillipson leaves the table and walks across the room to the bathroom. After about a minute, J-Jeff, with a look of determination on his face, follows Tom Phillipson into the bathroom. As the door swings, all that can be heard is J-Jeff screaming “The Jews!” Back at the counter, the Loveland Frog takes the money and hands J-Mike his rum and coke. J-Mike takes one sip, then spits it out in Loveland Frog’s face. J-Mike’s face grows red, and his tattoos seem to writhe on his body. He grabs Loveland Frog by the collar of his tuxedo and pulls the amphibian’s face close to his.]
[J-Mike drops the Loveland Frog and, jerking his arm back, launches a powerful right hook into the face of the bipedal cryptid, felling him instantly. J-Mike pours the contents of the glass onto the Loveland Frog, then throws the empty glass against the wall. As if on cue, the door to the bar swings open, and all patrons stare at the doorway. In steps the black-clad Agent Villain, his eye scanning the premises. It fixes on Doctor Derangemo. Agent Villain turns around and speaks to a shadow-covered figure standing in the doorway behind him.]
Agent Villain: He’s here. Care to do the honors?
[All eyes in the bar are on Agent Villain as he steps through the door. The color drains from the faces of all the patrons except Doctor Derangemo as the shadow-covered figure follows, the light of the bar revealing the brown-suited form of Mister Lucky.]
Mister Lucky: Doctor Derangemo, we need your help — to save the world!
Doctor Derangemo: [grinning wildly and placing his puzzle on the table] This is about the monster outside, isn’t it?
Mister Lucky: I’m afraid so. And what we need is —
Doctor Derangemo: Why, of course! It’s obvious, isn‘t it? You need me to lead you to my most wondrous invention yet!
Mister Lucky: If you want to call it that, sure.
[Tom Phillipson approaches Mister Lucky.]
Tom Phillipson: Uh, you’re supposed to be dead.
Mister Lucky: Supposed to be, but I’m not. Anyway —
Brendan Phillipson: [on the ground, working through the tears] No, you’re dead. There was a funeral and everything.
Mister Lucky: I know, I was there. Anyway —
Tom Phillipson: How are you alive right now?
Mister Lucky: Look, I don’t have time to explain, okay?
Agent Villain: It was a clone. The coward makes clones of himself so he doesn’t have to face his own mortality.
Mister Lucky: Oh, that’s great. Thanks for revealing my secret — about the clones, anyway. I‘m not afraid of dying.
Agent Villain: Really? Is that why you disabled Lamp Prime’s atomic bomb in Round Two? Because you’re not afraid of death?
Mister Lucky: Graves and Vinny are both idiots. You know that. They would have killed everyone!
Agent Villain: I almost forgot that you also took a peek at your funeral. Afraid no one would show up? Or maybe you were hoping that your estranged son would show up, perhaps? Pathetic.
Mister Lucky: That was morbid curiosity. And you can leave Lucky Charms out of this, you jerk. But wait, there’s more! You’re a hypocrite!
Agent Villain: What?
Mister Lucky: It’s true, and you know it! You yourself are afraid of death! That’s why you deserted the armies of The Stupid!
Agent Villain: Ridiculous. I saw that The Stupid’s plan would ultimately fail, so I betrayed him by giving plans for his Coliseum to Deity Guy and Lamp Prime.
Mister Lucky: Nice story. You’ve probably been telling yourself variations of it since that bunker incident in Berlin, haven’t you?
Agent Villain: [pulling a knife from a sheath at his side] For someone who fears oblivion, you seem to have quite the death wish. And I have no problem granting that wish — a second time.
Mister Lucky: [putting his fists up] Make no mistake, Agent Villain — though you’re welcomed to help, I don’t need you. So if you want to settle our score right here and right now, I’m more than willing to oblige you.
[Captain Zimball, unable to listen to the bickering anymore, stands up and puts himself between the two champions.]
Captain Zimball: The fightin’ can wait. Ya’ll said something’ about savin’ the world?
[Doctor Derangemo jumps to his feet and springs forward, landing in front of Captain Zimball like a Warner Brothers cartoon character.]
Doctor Derangemo: Oh, yes! Yes, yes, yes! Saving the world — with my machine! The world’s first and only air submarine! Come, let’s have a look at it!
[Doctor Derangemo runs to the door of the bathroom and into it. Captain Zimball, Mister Lucky, and Agent Villain follow him into the bathroom. A bit dazed from her dry-humping session with T-Bone and noticing Mister Lucky, Diamond Destiny follows the others into the bathroom. Doctor Derangemo enters the third stall on the left and, once the others are present, pushes the flushing mechanism. The ceiling opens and several human-sized tubes drop from the ceiling, surrounding each. Like a capsule in an office mailroom, the human cargo is then sucked up and into the tubes. Through twists and around turns they fly, each fluidly moving through the system with minimal trouble — the only exception being Diamond Destiny, whose buxom chest occasionally causes her to get stuck. At journey’s end, each is deposited in the windowed cockpit of a large vessel. Though nauseous, each passenger — save Diamond Destiny — rises to their feet and can’t help but marvel at the workmanship and ingenuity of this madman’s ship.]
Doctor Derangemo: [Throwing his arms out] Gentlemen, I welcome you to the most marvelous ship you’ve ever seen… the air submarine!
Mister Lucky: Wow. It’s, uh, pretty great. Hey, where are we?
Doctor Derangemo: My lab, of course!
Mister Lucky: Castle Valerium?
Doctor Derangemo: No, no, my boy. My lab — in this dimension! It was my belief that when the war began, we would be stuck in this dimension for quite some time. Thus, I used my dimensional transference ray to, well, transfer some of my stuff from our dimension to this one.
Agent Villain: [looking at the panels] Hm. Not quite a submarine. More like a stealth jet.
Doctor Derangemo: Nonsense! It’s a submarine — that flies through the air! And is equipped with lasers! Just like a submarine!
Agent Villain: [after a pause] As I said.
[Doctor Derangemo grins maniacally, then shifts his expression to that of depression as he looks around the room.]
Doctor Derangemo: Oh, no. This won’t do at all.
Mister Lucky: What is it?
Doctor Derangemo: Tampon-Bot is gone! Destroyed in the chaos, no doubt. Why, who will fly the ship?
Captain Zimball: Look, I don’t know nothin’ about savin’ the world, and I don’t know nothin’ about no air submarines — but one thing I do know is that I can captain anything based on nautical tech and that there’s a giant… whatever that thing is out there, tearin’ my friends apart. If you need someone to captain this boat, I’m your guy.
[Diamond Destiny slowly and graugily gets up, her breasts jiggling as she does.]
Diamond Destiny: Oh, I don’t feel so good…
[All turn around immediately to face her.]
Captain Zimball: Who let the lady on my ship?
Diamond Destiny: Huh? What lady?
Captain Zimball: I ain’t flyin’ this thing if there’s a lady onboard. It’s bad luck.
Mister Lucky: Don’t be silly. That’s an old superstition, and besides, you’ve got Mister Lucky onboard — the luckiest man in the world!
Diamond Destiny: [holding her head and stumbling towards Mister Lucky] Speaking of getting lucky… for five dollars, I’ll show you how lucky you are that I came, Mister. See what I did there? [giggles lightly, sounding as though intoxicated, and falls into Mister Lucky’s arms.]
Agent Villain: Heh. Go get her, loverboy.
Mister Lucky: [dropping Diamond Destiny and grabbing the wallet that she just pilfered from his pocket] Uh heh, wow. That’s, uh, a great offer, but we need to get underway.
Doctor Derangemo: Good, then it’s settled! Let’s go save the world!
[Captain Zimball sits at the captain’s chair and grabs hold of the nautical wheel, spinning it.]
Captain Zimball: Still think it’s bad juju to have a woman onboard…
[Massive flames spray out of the back and underside of the vessel as Captain Zimball pushes a large red button in the center of the wheel. Above them, the hanger doors open and the firelight of chaos and destruction greets the passengers through the windows of the cockpit. As they rise into the air, they see the giant, monstrous form of Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew in the distance. With the push of the large blue button on the wheel, the ship’s cloaking device activates, making the ship itself and all inside invisible.]
Captain Zimball: [turning around to face the others] So, what’s the plan?
[Doctor Derangemo steps forward to a panel on the lower deck. After punching in a sequence of numbers, he presses a flashing green button an fires a small rocket at the monster. In the distance, a miniscule puff of smoke can be seen.]
Doctor Derangemo: That should buy us some time. Now, if you gentlemen would kindly fill us in on the details…?
[Meanwhile, down below, Talia Andreos, Doctor Derangemo‘s lab assistant, notices a sparkle out of the corner of her eye.]
Talia Andreos: What in the…
[As she squints, she can make out a white figure flying through the air at supersonic speeds. Within seconds, she recognizes the form and grabs Gerald’s sleeve, pulling on it vigorously.]
Talia Andreos: [pointing, excited] Look, up in the sky!
Gerald: That’s really old, and really played out.
Talia Andreos: [smacking Gerald on the back of the head] No, dipstick, seriously. Look up in the sky.
[Gerald looks up and sees the figure. Immediately, his heart soars and he can’t help but smile.]
Gerald: It’s him! It’s Free Comic Book Day Man!
[Through the sky he darts like a streak of white lightning, plummeting on the straight and narrow and slamming into Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew‘s shoulder. The monster lets out a pained roar as Free Comic Book Day Man punches his way into the wound and digs out a small rocket containing some copies of Free Comic Book Day issues of “Sabrina the Teenage Witch Trials”. Below, the crowd cheers — but the cheers turn to gasps of horror as the giant monster slams Free Comic Book Day Man into the ground with his humongous fist, grinding the pavement before pulling away. Horrified, Talia Andreos runs up to Free Comic Book Day Man’s limp, lifeless body. Holding him by the shoulder, she cries out in rage and frustration as she lifts his head to her chest. The rage and frustration quickly turns to pain and agony, however, as Free Comic Book Day Man’s yellow acidic blood burns through Talia Andreos’s clothes and skin, leaving in its place a limp, lifeless, deformed corpse.]
Mister Lucky: Thanks to some research on my part —
Agent Villain: Research? You mean the information I gave you, right?
Mister Lucky: That, and the research I did on my own which confirms that your information is correct —
Agent Villain: Of course it’s correct.
Mister Lucky: Look, gentlemen, the embodiments have gone mad. This thing — this Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew, as they call it — is itself from a different dimension.
Agent Villain: Supposedly, it was chosen because the embodiments felt it held within the fabric of its existence the essences of our entire universe —
Mister Lucky: The essences of a bear, a monkey, a Jesus, a Jew, a homosexual, a robot, a leprechaun, a Purple Lamp, and a hobo. Did I miss anything?
Agent Villain: It doesn’t really matter.
Mister Lucky: Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew was meant to be the final challenge for the champions of each bracket.
Agent Villain: In order to make the creature seem more powerful, Deity Guy commissioned a machine to be built.
Doctor Derangemo: A machine that captures ghosts and turns them into energy!
Agent Villain: Yes.
Mister Lucky: How do you know that?
Agent Villain: Since you, heh, did your research, you should know.
Mister Lucky: Oh, right. Derangemo built that machine, too.
[Doctor Derangemo smiles proudly as everyone else stares at him with annoyance.]
Agent Villain: The power upgrade to the creature was supposed to stop there. But, as their thirst for vengeance against each other and, later, against their own champions grew, the embodiments surmised that perhaps the creature could be made even more powerful by giving it their own powers.
Captain Zimball: But if what you said is true, Baggy Jesus O’Leary —
Mister Lucky: O’Malley.
Captain Zimball: Yeah, he still shouldn’t be rampaging, since the fight was s’posed to be fake.
Agent Villain: Heh. You have The Stupid to thank for that one.
Mister Lucky: He tricked the Righteous Smidgeon, a superhero that can shrink to atomic levels, into invading the creature’s brain and running amok.
Agent Villain: The result of his meddling is what you see outside.
Diamond Destiny: [twirling some chewing gum on her finger] So, why don’t the embodiments take their powers back? Or something?
Mister Lucky: A surprisingly good question. We believe that, once they give the power away, it must either return to them naturally or it must be given back to them willingly.
Agent Villain: That’s why we must kill the creature at all costs.
Mister Lucky: No! We talked about this! Violence isn’t in the creature’s nature, Agent Villain! I mean, it saved Gerald and Bahige from the Paci Custodis in the first round. It’s normally peaceful or, at the very least, somewhat benign. So no killing. What we need to do is get the Righteous Smidgen out of its head. Once we do that, its other-dimensional brain will be allowed to heal naturally.
Captain Zimball: Then what’re we waitin’ for? Let’s go in there and pick him up!
Doctor Derangemo: Yes! We’ll enter through the ear canal and ride through his body, like in “Fantastic Voyage”! Oh, how I love that movie!
Mister Lucky: That’s precisely the plan. Zimball, can you get us in there?
Captain Zimball: The wheel ain’t that responsive, but what we gotta lose?
Mister Lucky: That’s the spirit!
[Captain Zimball navigates the air submarine towards Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew‘s ear, the monster seemingly unaware of the soon-to-be invasive ship.]
Captain Zimball: Damn thing keeps moving!
Doctor Derangemo: Push the green button!
[Captain Zimball does so, and smooth jazz plays through the ship’s speakers.]
Captain Zimball: What the hell is this supposed to do?
Doctor Derangemo: Nothing. I just felt that we could do with some music.
Captain Zimball: Whatever. You got shields on this thing?
Doctor Derangemo: Push the green button!
Captain Zimball: I just pushed the damn green button!
Doctor Derangemo: Yes! Push it again!
[Captain Zimball sighs and pushes the button again. The jazz turns to house techno, the lights dim, and a strobe light descends from the ceiling. On the outside of the air submarine, shields are raised and a small HUD appears to show shield integrity.]
Captain Zimball: That’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout!
[With newfound confidence, Captain Zimball flies directly into Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew‘s ear canal. Once they are safely inside, Mister Lucky and Doctor Derangemo stand to each side of Captain Zimball to study this magnificent sight.]
Doctor Derangemo: Oh my! It’s filled with incredibly old pizza!
Mister Lucky: How bizarre.
Captain Zimball: You two ladies quit gabbin’ and tell me how to get to the brain.
Doctor Derangemo: Second star to the right, and straight on ’til morning!
Captain Zimball: The hell?
Mister Lucky: No, I think he’s right. Look!
[Mister Lucky points outside and there are several dozen pizza stars floating within Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew. Captain Zimball navigates for whatever pizza star could be considered the second to the right, and continues straight. As he navigates through them, he deftly steers around chunks of ancient pizza until hitting another smaller canal, one which is free of debris. He slows the air submarine down and as the exterior becomes dark, a light appears in the distance.]
Doctor Derangemo: See? Darkness, and then light! Night, and then morning!
Captain Zimball: Whatever you say, you crazy-ass cracker.
[They head towards the light, eventually popping out in the cavity which houses Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew‘s now giant brain. Mister Lucky and Doctor Derangemo stare out the window until one of them sees a figure stomping around.]
Mister Lucky: There! Set her down!
[Captain Zimball complies, not landing on the brain, but hovering above it.]
Mister Lucky: You got anything in this tub for us to go down there?
Doctor Derangemo: No. Why would I? It’s an air submarine. Feel free to use the sound system, if you like.
Mister Lucky: Will it work through fluids?
Doctor Derangemo: Didn’t you hear me? It’s an air submarine!
Mister Lucky: So there’s no fluid out there? Only air?
Doctor Derangemo: Of course!
[Mister Lucky takes a moment to process this, something which is altogether new and unpleasant for him. He shakes his head quickly and goes to the door.]
Mister Lucky: Okay! Villain, Derangemo, you’re coming with me!
Agent Villain: The great Mister Lucky, asking help from his greatest enemy and a mad scientist.
Doctor Derangemo: I’m not mad! Slightly peeved, perhaps, but not mad!
Agent Villain: The point stands.
Mister Lucky: I don’t need you for anything, but I also don’t trust you one bit. Now come on! How do we get down there?
[Doctor Derangemo pulls a chain hanging from the ceiling, and a hatch opens up on the floor. A curvy slide unfolds downward.]
Doctor Derangemo: Me first!
[Doctor Derangemo slides down the slide.]
Mister Lucky: I’d say age before beauty, but I’ve got you beat in both. So why don’t you go next so you don’t stab me in the back on the way down?
Agent Villain: How do you know I won’t kill you when you slide down?
Mister Lucky: You’re right. Think fast!
[Mister Lucky tackles Agent Villain and the pair grapple as they slide down. When they hit gray matter, Mister Lucky stands up and jumps away from Agent Villain. Agent Villain stands up and sneers at Mister Lucky, brushing himself off.]
Agent Villain: A lucky strike.
Mister Lucky: Petulence doesn’t become you. Now come on, we’ve got a giant rampaging monster to stop!
[The three trek over to the Righteous Smidgen, a task which takes nearly twenty minutes due to Mister Lucky’s continual need to make sure Agent Villain isn’t trying anything and the need to make sure Doctor Derangemo stays on task. Mister Lucky walks up with his hands help upward, all the while the Righteous Smidgen is attacking the brain.]
Mister Lucky: Hey there!
Righteous Smidgen: What? Who are you?
Mister Lucky: That’s not important right now! What is important is that you’re putting the lives of dozens, maybe even hundreds, of people at risk!
Righteous Smidgen: I don’t believe you. The Stupid said that I had to do this to stop this creature from killing everyone.
Mister Lucky: No, that’s not right at all! The Stupid is an evil, evil being! The Embodiment of Evil, in fact! You can’t trust him any farther than you can throw him!
Righteous Smidgen: Still don’t believe you. The only people here who have earned my trust are the Animajor and the Stupid. Maybe Shoshy Raphael, but only because he seems to like the Animajor. Not you, whoever you are.
Mister Lucky: Really? You trust those guys but not me? What’s wrong with you?!
Righteous Smidgen: Nothing. Just doing what I think is right.
Mister Lucky: Well, it’s not right! In fact, Shoshy Raphael is out there right now trying to make sure that this hellbeast doesn’t kill anymore people!
[The Righteous Smidgen pauses for a moment.]
Righteous Smidgen: Is the Animajor all right?
Mister Lucky: Not gonna lie, he’s probably dead by now.
Righteous Smidgen: Oh no. What have —
Doctor Derangemo: Are you going to be done soon, Mister Lucky?
Mister Lucky: Yes, hold your horses!
Righteous Smidgen: Hold on, Mister Lucky? My father told me about you! You helped the Paragon People a few times, right? You even tried to join them with some lame superhero identity.
Mister Lucky: Oh, God. Yes. Yes! That was me!
Righteous Smidgen: And then, after the war, you took on the identity of Professor Merciless and attacked the world again and again and again, requiring the Paragon People to stop you every single time!
[Agent Villain smirks.]
Agent Villain: Why, Mister Lucky, I had no idea.
Mister Lucky: It needed to be done! How do you know about that, though? Your pop vanished before then!
Righteous Smidgen: The Stupid told me. Why should I trust someone I know to be a super-villain?
Mister Lucky: Oh, for the love of —
Righteous Smidgen: Don’t bother finishing that thought.
Mister Lucky: You try and talk some sense into the kid, Villain!
Righteous Smidgen: Agent Villain? I’ve only heard good things about you.
[Agent Villain grits his teeth at the revelation.]
Mister Lucky: Yes! So please, tell him all the stuff is true about him causing this thing to kill everyone!
Agent Villain: [Half-heartedly] Hey, uh, Righteous Smidgen? It’s all true. [to Mister Lucky] There. Happy now?
Mister Lucky: Almost.
Righteous Smidgen: Well, I have no reason to doubt the word of Agent Villain. Let’s go.
Mister Lucky: Now I’m happy. Come on, let’s blow this pop stand!
[The quartet head back to the ship. Meanwhile, Barry, He Who is Death, is on his way to the tournament.]
Barry: God. So late. So freaking late. It’s all that stupid horse’s fault. Azrael’s going to kill me.
[Barry pauses for a moment and thinks about his last statement, then lets out one loud ha. He looks around him and sees the ebbing and flowing of the realm between life and death.]
Barry: Damn traffic. Why is it so busy here? Going to be so late. Wait a second.
[Barry looks over and sees a figure in a black hooded robe sitting at a table. A line is forming in front of the table. There are several robots in the line, including Tampon-Bot and Perverto.]
Tampon-Bot: I thought I’d be happy dying, but I’m not.
Perverto: Where are the naked angels?
Fake Fred: Next!
Tampon-Bot: That would be me.
Fake Fred: Okay, Barn, off you go.
[Tampon-Bot disappears into Limbo. Fake Fred ticks the name off his list.]
Fake Fred: Next!
Perverto: L-O-L! The great Perverto will be mourned by many!
Fake Fred: Sure thing, Barn.
[Perverto vanishes into Limbo, and Fake Fred ticks the name off his list.]
Barry: I’ve seen enough.
[Barry marches over to the table and seizes the list, only to notice that every single name is some variation of Barney. Fake Fred looks up at him.]
Fake Fred: Why’d you take my list, Bernie? I need that or Osama’s going to be mad at me.
Barry: You’re not a reaper! You shouldn’t be doing this!
Fake Fred: Just doing my job, Boffo. Need to get enough to hit capacity.
Barry: No, it’s not your job! It’s my job! Besides, you’ve been accepting robot souls! We don’t do robot souls, there’s a whole other thing for robots!
Fake Fred: Gee, Barney, you need to calm down.
Barry: [Looking over the paperwork] My name’s not Barney! It’s Barry! And I will not calm down, especially when you’ve apparently been sending everyone to Limbo, which isn’t bad, but it’s not great! They’ll just be back here in an hour wondering what to do.
Fake Fred: It’s my first day, Binky.
Barry: It’s also your last day! Now then, where are you on this list… wait a second. You’re not on this list. You’re not even dead!
Fake Fred: Nope.
Barry: Then get out!
[Barry points at Fake Fred, who vanishes in a bluish flame, returning to the world of the living. The table vanishes as well, but Barry still has his list. Sure enough, all those who Fake Fred sent to Limbo begin to reappear.]
Barry: At least his mess won’t be that hard to fix.
Fake Fred: That sure is good news, Bartholomew.
[Barry slowly turns to see Fake Fred standing before him. Barry looks at his list and the names are starting to correct themselves, with every new name being an actual name. The newest name, however, is Fake Fred. Barry groans.]
Barry: This is going to be the longest shift ever.
[Back at the air submarine, the quartet have boarded and entered the ship’s kitchen.]
Mister Lucky: …and that’s when I found Villain and Derangemo and we set out to stop you from messing with Baggy Jesus O’Malley.
Righteous Smidgen: It doesn’t seem to have done much good.
Mister Lucky: Derangemo said it’d take a little while for his mind to heal. Anyway —
[Suddenly, a shockwave hits the ship.]
Captain Zimball: What the hell was that?
Mister Lucky: We should get to the cockpit!
Diamond Destiny: I’d like to get to your cockipit, loverboy.
Mister Lucky: Given the current circumstances, that’s highly inappropriate.
Doctor Derangemo: Far be it from me to be the voice of reason, but less flirting and more moving, everyone! My precious ship is at stake!
Agent Villain: Right. Uh, me and the Smidgen will be right along.
Mister Lucky: Well, okay. Hurry up, though.
[Mister Lucky, Diamond Destiny, Captain Zimball, and Doctor Derangemo all head towards the cockpit. After they’ve all gone, Agent Villain pulls out a knife.]
Agent Villain: One last thing, Smidgen.
Righteous Smidgen: What’s that?
[Agent Villain smiles. In the cockpit, Doctor Derangemo looks out the window.]
Doctor Derangemo: It would appear that Baggy Jesus O’Malley has transformed into some sort of giant goo monster!
Captain Zimball: So what? We in a submarine.
Doctor Derangemo: Haven’t you listened to a word I said?! It’s an air submarine! It can’t survive in this sort of atmosphere for long! The hull integrity is already being compromised!
Captain Zimball: Well, shit. We’re sinking to the bottom, here.
[As the various challengers outside attack the monstrous form of Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew, the shockwaves are magnified through his gelatinous form, each one causing the ship to rock more and more violently. Doctor Derangemo stands and sways with the ship, humming quietly.]
Mister Lucky: Where’s Villain and Smidgen?
Diamond Destiny: Why do you care about those two when I’m… [Diamond Destiny slinks up to Mister Lucky and grabs his bowtie.] right… [she pulls on the bow-tie, causing her nose to touch Mister Lucky’s.] here?
[Mister Lucky stands up, his bow-tie snapping off. He pulls another one from his jacket pocket and ties it as he exits the cockpit.]
Mister Lucky: I’m going to go check on them! Something rotten is going on!
[As Mister Lucky leaves, Diamond Destiny crosses her arms and puts out her lips in a pout. Her eyes glance over Doctor Derangemo momentarily, but then settle upon Captain Zimball, valiantly trying to stabalize the air submarine. She takes a deep breath and walks over, sitting beside him. He flashes her a quick, worried smile. Mister Lucky enters the kitchen and sees the Righteous Smidgen lying on the ground, a knife in his throat. He pulls the knife out and sighs heavily. In the cockpit, other more supposedly sexy things are happening.]
Doctor Derangemo: We’re going to crash! Hahahaha!! Isn’t this FUN?!
Captain Zimball: No, this shit ain’t fun at all! The hell’s goin’ on out there?!
[Diamond Destiny grips for Captain Zimball’s crotch, but Captain Zimball moves fast enough to avoid her errant hand.]
Captain Zimball: Damn, girl, shit ain’t right. We about to die!
Diamond Destiny: I don’t care! I’ve never had a black man before, and I won’t die without experiencing the joys of one!
Captain Zimball: I ain’t never had a white girl before, neither…
[Neither really caring or knowing that the other one is lying, Captain Zimball looks deep into Diamond Destiny’s glittering green eyes, and she into his dark brown eyes. Without warning, the air submarine dives as Captain Zimball and Diamond Destiny meet in a lusty embrace. Doctor Derangemo stands by and watches for a moment as the two strip naked before him. Doctor Derangemo‘s expression goes from disgusted to blank, then his eyes light up.]
Doctor Derangemo: That reminds me! I need to clean the oven! Off to the kitchen!
[As Doctor Derangemo leaves, he passes an irate Mister Lucky in the hallway, holding a bloody knife. Doctor Derangemo thinks for a moment about what he should think about this, but then remembers that the over needs cleaning. When he reaches the kitchen, he ignores the lifeless body of the Righteous Smidgen and goes right for the stove, only to laugh heartily.]
Doctor Derangemo: Silly me! I forgot the oven was self-cleaning! I’ll go see what Charles and Kraven are up to!
[As Doctor Derangemo goes to follow Mister Lucky, the latter hears the sounds of lasers. Mister Lucky scowls and begins to run, stopping himself before he enters the cockpit, and he walks in silently, and leans agains the wall nonchalantly.]
Mister Lucky: I knew I’d find you here, Agent Villain. Time to put and end to your evil once and for all!
Agent Villain: Man against man, eh? Or are you another clone? Do you even know?
Mister Lucky: I’m the real deal! You forgot this in the kitchen, by the way!
[Mister Lucky throws the knife and it whizzes through the air, right past Agent Villain’s head. Agent Villain doesn’t even flinch, only reaching over and taking the knife, wiping the blood off on Captain Zimball’s discarded coat, and placing it back in its sheath. Mister Lucky stands at the doorway, with Doctor Derangemo standing behind him.]
Doctor Derangemo: Oh, goody! This should be a sight!
[Mister Lucky and Agent Villain walk calmly towards each other, and when they meet in the center of the cockpit, Agent Villain lashes out with a right hook. Mister Lucky blocks, smiles, and jabs at Agent Villain. This move is also blocked, but immediately followed by another quick jab from Mister Lucky. Agent Villain catches his fist and attempts to bring his elbow down upon Mister Lucky’s arm in an attempt to break it. Mister Lucky responds by punching him directly in the face. Agent Villain staggers back, fresh blood trickling from his nose.]
Doctor Derangemo: Boring!
[Agent Villain uses one of the cockpit’s chairs to launch himself at Mister Lucky, who attempts to dodge but is taken down. Agent Villain turns and starts to pummel Mister Lucky, taking his bowler hat and smashing it upon his face, breaking the hat and the glasses in the process. Mister Lucky uses an old martial arts move taught to him by the monks of Uhld to fling Agent Villain against the wall. Both combatants quickly get to their feet. Mister Lucky tosses aside the bowler hat and broken glasses.]
Mister Lucky: You did me a favor there. I hate that hat.
Doctor Derangemo: I’ve seen more violence at the ballet!
[Agent Villain doesn’t respond, instead leaping on top of the table and jumping off of it with a roundhouse kick. Mister Lucky catches his foot in mid-kick and slams Agent Villain against one of the ship’s consoles. Sparks fly from the console.]
Agent Villain: So you’re farsighted then?
Mister Lucky: You honestly think I would make myself immortal but leave my eyesight as less than perfect?
Doctor Derangemo: Oh dear, has this suddenly become “The View”?
[Agent Villain shrugs, and Mister Lucky runs at him, leaping at him, fist ready to punch. Agent Villain easily sidesteps this and Mister Lucky’s fist sinks into the circuitry. Agent Villain steps behind him and begins smashing Mister Lucky’s face into the console. After doing this half a dozen times, Mister Lucky’s face is cut and bleeding, his nose broken, his eyes swollen. Agent Villain, meanwhile, has only a bloodied nose.]
Mister Lucky: Little help, Derangemo?
Agent Villain: The only thing he’ll be helping with is getting rid of your body!
[Agent Villain takes out his knife and tries to stab Mister Lucky in the back, but Doctor Derangemo, after giving it some thought, pulls out an odd-looking gun and points it at the two brawlers. He pulls the trigger, letting loose a blinding flash of light and horrible disorienting noise. Agent Villain plunges his knife into the console and grabs his ears, while Mister Lucky uses the opportunity to free himself from the console and gain higher ground, thin trickles of blood coming from his ears and nose. After his ears have stopped ringing, Agent Villain turns to Mister Lucky, completely forgetting about his knife, and lets loose a primal scream, launching himself at Mister Lucky. As Agent Villain leaps, Doctor Derangemo pulls the trigger again and again, laughing all the while, marveling at the Hiroshima shadows being left on the walls of the air submarine, which is still being bombarded with shockwaves from the outside. The stream of blood from Mister Lucky’s ears has gone from a trickle to a stream, but he powers through, dodging Agent Villain’s attacks and looking around, trying to find something to give him an edge. Suddenly, Agent Villain realizes that he could easily keep the upper hand if he did one thing, and in one smooth movement he pulls out his gun and shoots Doctor Derangemo, who continues laughing and shooting his gun for a few moments until he realizes that he’s been shot.]
Doctor Derangemo: Oh dear.
[Doctor Derangemo falls to the ground and Agent Villain allows himself a small smile. He turns to Mister Lucky, who should have been by the console, but Mister Lucky swings from a beam in the ceiling, knocking Agent Villain on the console. The spy initially begins to laugh, as this ploy is obviously the last desperate chance of a dying man. However, he then feels a sharp pain tear into his back. Mister Lucky stands in front of him.]
Mister Lucky: You keep leaving your knife lying around, Villain. This way, you’ll never lose it again.
[Agent Villain looks down and sees the sharp, thin point of his knife sticking through his stomach. He is initially shocked, but then smiles and starts to laugh maniacally, his skin drying out and hair becoming stringy, almost like cobwebs. Soon, no more sound comes from Agent Villain’s withered body, now looking like it’s been a corpse for a very long time. As the head slumps over, an earpiece falls out of its ear. Mister Lucky picks it up.]
Mister Lucky: Should have known he’d send a clone. Looks like you got the last laugh this time, Villain.
[Mister Lucky coughs up some blood and sits down in the cockpit. Outside, he sees Shoshy Raphael, Baggy Satan, and Edwin Cloudstar flying upwards, Edwin Cloudstar carrying a Purple Lamp bomb. He knows that, between the injuries sustained during the fight and this new development, he doesn’t have long to live.]
Mister Lucky: Glad Derangemo brought the Atlantean gun. Really came through in the end there, Doc.
[As Mister Lucky salutes Doctor Derangemo‘s body, he notices that his own hand is rapidly becoming dried and withered. His unswollen eye goes wide.]
Mister Lucky: I’m a clone? But… but for how long? Dear God, for how long — !
[Mister Lucky’s now dried and withered body slumps over onto the console. Soon after, his body is unceremoniously pushed out of the chair by Doctor Derangemo, sparks flying from his chest.]
Doctor Derangemo: Tsk tsk. Clones are so unreliable, but robot doubles —
[In Castle Valerium, the real Doctor Derangemo sits at a table, eating a sandwich and sitting at what appears to be a heavily modified Virtual Boy, wearing a headset with microphone.]
Doctor Derangemo: — robot doubles will last forever if you take care of them. Sadly, your time has come.
[The robot Doctor Derangemo takes the wheel of the air submarine and pilots a direct course towards Baggy Jesus O’Mally the Jew’s damaged brain. As the ship moves forward, Doctor Derangemo pushes a set of colored lights in a sequence, not unlike the game “Simon”, and the self-destruct sequence is activated. As the air submarine reaches the brain, so does Edwin Cloudstar, and the ship self-destructs as the Purple Lamp bomb goes off. With this final act, the ship cauterizes the brain’s wounds, and coupled with the explosion of the Purple Lamp bomb, puts Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew on the fast track to recovery. Will it be enough to stop the rampaging giant from destroying the rest of the challengers? Tune in tomorrow to find out.]

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MMM 2010: Finale #4

Posted by meekrat on July 29, 2010

Mike P: I’m pretty sure people might enjoy my thing.
Xig: What’s your thing?
[Mike P takes a deep breath and flies above the legion of challengers on his disc.]
Mike P: If you’ve got an energy weapon, shoot me with it!
[All the challengers with energy weapons begins shooting Mike P with them, some with much more enjoyment than others. Those without energy weapons attack Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew until Mike P begins glowing like a collapsing star. He turns towards Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew, flies towards him, and begins unleashing the energy, forcing himself to keep flying as he does so lest the energy blast push him back. As the last of the excess energy leaves his body, Mike P allows himself to be pushed back. The energy blast seems to do the trick, and Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew screams in pain. At the lair of the Embodiments…]
The Stupid: More power! MORE POWER!
Deity Guy: We’re giving her all we’ve got!
The Stupid: You obviously aren’t! The meters are still… oh, wait. They stopped. We’re all now completely powerless!
Lamp Prime: Wait, wait. Really?
The Stupid: Yes! Though we can get our power back at any time by flicking this switch.
Deity Guy: There’s no switch there. In fact, the whole console has been replaced by a featureless purple cube-like shape.
The Stupid: That’s nonsense!
Lamp Prime: He’s right. Turn around.
[The Stupid turns around, and sees that the ghost machine has been replaced by a giant featureless purple cube-like shape.]
The Stupid: This… this wasn’t supposed to happen. Now, once Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew has destroyed our enemies, he’ll be able to destroy us as well! He’s basically become a malevolent deity! This is all my fault!
Deity Guy: Don’t be so hard on yourself. You had no idea this would happen.
The Stupid: Well, you see, shortly after Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew arrived, I sent someone into his head to stomp around and make him go insane. Apparently, this has also made him much more proactive in his defense.
[Deity Guy and Lamp Prime stare at the Stupid, who grins sheepishly.]
Deity Guy: Dude. What the hell?
[At the stadiums, Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew transforms once again. This time, he becomes a giant blob-like creature with a tiny leprechaun hat perched upon it, with various pieces of robot, monkey, bear, leprechaun, and human shifting in and out of its mass. It also begins flinging things at the various challengers, and shooting bolts of various energies. While its accuracy leaves much to be desired, the sheer mass of attacks is proving to be fatal to many challengers. In a misguided attempt to lighten the mood, Charlie Charleston dances to the head of the crowd.]

Charlie Charleston: Charleston, Charleston, dah dah dadadah Charlie Charleston, I’m better than you!
[The the Charleston Hate Imp arrives nearly instantly, and due to his proximity to Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew, is beefed up by the excess power. Instead of the small yet dangerous being he once was, he, too, becomes a hulking monstrosity. The crowd lets loose a collective groan, but then the the Charleston Hate Imp touches Charlie Charleston. Charlie Charleston is immediately set on fire, and begins to expand. The man’s eyes pop first, spraying goo all over the place. Next, the buttons on his suit begin popping off, their ricochets dooming several more challengers, until finally, Charlie Charleston’s flesh has been stretched as far as it will go and the man explodes, his flaming body parts landing all over the place. The Camel leaps into the air to grab an errant foot, and greedily begins shlurping the rest of what was once Charlie Charleston. Once he’s completed this, he notices how many more corpses there are, and sighs contentendly. The Thrifty Scouts fly out over the crowd to confront Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew. Mike P is none too pleased, especially since Elvin Clovar has convinced Perverto to hold aloft a boombox to blare the Thrifty Scouts Theme Song.]
Mike P: We saw you die! The Kzagnox totally killed you!
Thrifty Scout Asgard: Kawaii! It’s a good thing he didn’t get our special Thrifty Star Seeds! Now then, you big old monster, we will punish you!
[As the Thrifty Scouts are preparing to attack, Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew focuses upon them, and with one blast, they’re disentegrated. Ethan Crane and Lord Tentacula join elbows and begin to dance with joy. Scoop Griswald runs around snapping photographs while Jonathan Hortenz, hit by one of Charlie Charleston’s shoes, has begun to drone on as if he was doing a DVD commentary of the battle. Steve the Chach is attempting to light Molotov cocktails using his bottles of Jaeger, a feat which proves impossible considering how he refuses to waste the Jaeger and empties each bottle beforehand. Danger Force sits around and laughs at everyone else as they run around, trying to dodge Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew’s attacks. The three champions continue to attack.]
Shoshy Raphael: I’d say this is hopeless!
Mike P: Not if we get a deus ex machina up in here!
[As if on cue, a light comes from the western sky, framing a figure on a mighty steed.]
Shoshy Raphael: Good god, is that — ?
Owen Reilly: It is! It is! Brachiosaur the White!
[Sure enough, Brachiosaur is riding into battle upon Wyandotte Thompson, much to Wyandotte’s chagrin. He is brandishing a relatively small sword which still dwarfs a man. Alongside him ride El Presidente on an especially large dog, Leo Leopolous astride his riding lion, Sexy Jiro on top of his gimp, the Cart King atop one of his carts, Jerald on his flying disc, Mister Frink on his gyrocopter, Cart King and Mad Monkey Jesus aboard the flying cross, and the Unibear on his unicycle.]
Unibear: Graaahnk!
[However, one by one the riders are cut down by errant blasts from Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew until only Unibear remains. He rolls up to Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew and looks up at the monstrous blob, half-heartedly scratching it.]
Unibear: Grahn.
[Baggy Jesus O’Malley the Jew pulsates, the movement being enough to crush the Unibear.]
Iavi: Well, boys, this isn’t how I thought I’d die, but it’s been nice knowing you, I guess.
Charleston Charge: We still have a chance, if only Edolie DePrit would show up. She usually shows up, then I save the day.
Mike P: We don’t have time to wait!
Charleston Charge: Sure we —
[Charleston Charge is suddenly hit with a beam of energy, falling to the ground.]
Shoshy Raphael: You did tell him we didn’t have time to wait.
[Off to the side, the Embodiment of Chaos steps out from between moments. He looks around.]
Embodiment of Chaos: Damn. Looks like I don’t even have to be here.
[He steps back. Other than the three champions, only a handful of challengers remain. This includes Edwin Cloudstar, Baco, Antwon, Iavi, Xig, Fadeaway, the Animajor, Xavier Malcolm, Logan Keanu Solo, Gerald, Jihad Man, Purga the Demon-Thing, the Bear Machine, and Bukake.]
Iavi: I think we should find cover, maybe think up a plan.
Edwin Cloudstar: Oh, forget plans. Get me one of those Purple Lamp bombs.
Mike P: What are you going to do?
Edwin Cloudstar: I’m going to jump into that thing and blow it up from the inside.
Shoshy Raphael: A good plan. I expect nothing less from my old foe.
Edwin Cloudstar: Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you tried to do.
Shoshy Raphael: I don’t.
[A bomb is made and given to Edwin Cloudstar.]
Edwin Cloudstar: I need one of you to get me up to the top so I can sink through.
Iavi: No. It’s a suicide mission.
Mike P: We’ll be fine, I’m sure. Besides, whoever does it can get really close to attack.
Shoshy Raphael: I suppose it’ll work.

Posted in March Meekrat Madness 2010 | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a Comment »

MMM Event #68: Resolution

Posted by meekrat on June 22, 2010

[Graves and Deity Guy stand away from Edwin Cloudstar and Ethan Crane. Graves whispers something into Deity Guy’s non-existent ear, causing Deity Guy to snicker. Graves nods, grinning maniacally, and they return to Ethan Crane and Edwin Cloudstar.]
Graves: Okay. We’ve got an idea for your first challenge.
Edwin Cloudstar: Oh, god.
Graves: That pansy has nothing to do with this.
Deity Guy: Before you, you’ll both notice a table. Please have a seat at said table.
[Ethan Crane and Edwin Cloudstar walk to the table, Ethan Crane keeping his eyes on the giant television screen the entire time. Both sit at the table and Ethan Crane turns his eyes away from the television and towards Edwin Cloudstar.]
Ethan Crane: Hm. Boring. Change it.
[Ethan Crane pulls a remote out of his pocket and aims it at Edwin Cloudstar. Ethan Crane presses a button on the remote control aimlessly. Edwin Cloudstar frowns.]
Deity Guy: If you would both be so kind as to look down at the table, please.
[Ethan Crane puts the remote away and both Ethan Crane and Edwin Cloudstar look down at the table. In a flash of light, two shot glasses appear before them. Each glass is filled with a smoking green liquid.]
Edwin Cloudstar: Let me guess. This isn’t vodka.
Graves: Good job, immortal. You might have been a detective in another — er, I mean, an earlier part of your life.
Edwin Cloudstar: [looking at Graves and frowning] Well, I did solve some mysteries.
Deity Guy: It’s Baron von Stricknine’s favorite blend!
Ethan Crane: The poisoner?
Deity Guy: The very same!
Ethan Crane: Fantastic! This is bound to be of the highest quality vintage!
[Ethan Crane quickly downs the liquid, much to Edwin Cloudstar’s horror. Ethan Crane closes his eyes, coughs up blood, and pounds the shot glass on the table, daring Edwin Cloudstar to drink his shot. Edwin Cloudstar’s face becomes a mask of determination. He grabs the glass, swirls the poison around in it, and drinks the shot. Immediately, Edwin Cloudstar grabs his chest and drops the shot glass to the ground. Edwin Cloudstar coughs, chokes as his tongue swells inside his mouth, and slumps over on the table. Graves looks at Deity Guy, who is giggling madly, and grins.]
Graves: That’s unfortunate. Perhaps the immortal wasn’t as immortal as initially —
[Edwin Cloudstar sits up suddenly, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. He gasps for breath and shakes as the seizure of rebirth wracks his body. Graves looks on in disbelief as Ethan Crane pulls the remote control from his pocket once again, points it at Edwin Cloudstar, and presses a button.]
Ethan Crane: Is there nothing else on?!
[Edwin Cloudstar stops shaking and takes a deep breath. His eyes roll forward again as he surveys his surroundings.]
Edwin Cloudstar: Oh, yeah. This place.
[Graves pulls Deity Guy to the side and they converse in silence for a few moments. Ethan Crane growls as he presses the button of the remote control aggressively.]
Edwin Cloudstar: Could you please stop that?
Graves: [walking back up to the table] Okay. Round two. Russian Roulette!
[Deity Guy blinks and several flashes of light fill the room. Several Vietnamese peasants fill the empty seats in the arena. The final flash places a large Vietnamese soldier next to the table. His bald head, facial scars, and eye patch indicate that he is a seasoned veteran.]
Ethan Crane: Oh, good! “Platoon”!
Deity Guy: Not quite. These Vietcong were imported from the 1960s to help you play the second round.
[Deity Guy screams something in Vietnamese to the bald Vietnamese with the eye patch. The man with the eye patch pulls a revolver from the holster at this side and holds it up for the crowd. The Vietnamese in the audience cheer as the man pulls a bullet from the pouch at his side and places it into the chamber. The man with the eye patch spins the chamber with his hand, opens it, and places a bullet into the chamber with his other hand while the crowd cheers. The man then opens the chamber, places a bullet inside, and closes it, spinning the chamber with his other hand while the crowd roars with anticipation. In a flash of showmanship, the man opens the chamber, shows the bullet to the crowd, places the bullet into the chamber, and spins the chamber shut with his free hand. To the cheers of the crowd, the man with the eye patch pulls a bullet from the pouch in his side and slams it into the revolver’s chamber, giving the chamber a spin as he closes it. Then, calling for silence, the man with the eye patch opens the chamber, produces from the pouch at his side a shiny bullet that he then places into the chamber, spins the chamber with his hand, then closes the chamber. He holds the gun up for the audience, then slams the gun onto the table.]
Edwin Cloudstar: Wait a minute. That was six bullets.
Deity Guy: Yep.
Edwin Cloudstar: So, it’s not so much Russian Roulette as it is shooting ourselves with a loaded gun.
Graves: No, it’s Russian Roulette.
Deity Guy: It’s just that every option is a loser.
Edwin Cloudstar: Ah. That’s… unfortunate.
Ethan Crane: And how!
[Ethan Crane picks up the gun and places it against his temple. Without hesitation, he pulls the trigger. The impact of the bullet blows a hole through the side of his head. The bullet itself exits his cranium on the other side in a flurry of blood and bone and strikes a Vietnamese spectator, killing her instantly. Ethan Crane slams the gun back on the table and screams at Edwin Cloudstar in triumph.]
Ethan Crane: AAAAAHHHH!!!
Edwin Cloudstar: …right.
[Edwin Cloudstar picks up the gun, considers it for a moment, and places the barrel against his shoulder.]
Edwin Cloudstar: Well, they didn’t say where I need to shoot myself…
[Edwin Cloudstar takes a deep breath, holds it, and pulls the trigger. The bullet rips through the sinew and muscle in his shoulder, hit’s the sword hanging from his back, and ricochets into his brainstem and up through the top of his skull. Edwin Cloudstar’s lifeless body slumps over the table with his arms flailing to the top in one final death-reflex. Graves and Deity Guy laugh maniacally.]
Deity Guy: This was the best idea. The best!
Graves: I know, right?
[Ethan Crane grabs the gun from Edwin Cloudstar’s cold hand and places it against his temple. He pulls the trigger twice more, blowing a larger hole into his skull. The two bullets exit and land inside of two other Vietnamese spectators, killing them instantly. Again, Ethan Crane slams the gun onto the table. He laughs maniacally at Edwin Cloudstar with what’s left of the bleeding stump that was once his jaw. Edwin Cloudstar, almost as if in response, sits up straight in his chair again with his eyes rolled into the back of his head. The wounds on Edwin Cloudstar’s body heal quickly as bone grows, muscle extends, and flesh regenerates. Once the process is through, Edwin Cloudstar looks forward, then down at the gun.]
Edwin Cloudstar: Oh, no.
[Edwin Cloudstar hesitates, then reaches over to pick up the gun. This time, he places it against the center of his chest — but away from his heart. Edwin Cloudstar pulls the trigger twice, emptying the chamber. Both bullets tear a large hole in his chest. Both bullets, as the bullet before them, hit the sword hanging from Edwin Cloudstar’s back and ricochet outwards. The first bullet enters Edwin Cloudstar’s skull once again, killing him and forcing him to slump over onto the table. The second bullet exits through his shoulder and hit’s the bald Vietnamese soldier through his eye patch. The bullet tears the soldier’s head in two, the force of the exit wound blowing roughly half away and spreading it across the seats of the arena. Then, in a flash of light, the dead soldier and the Vietnamese spectators, both dead and alive, disappear. Edwin Cloudstar sits up again, regenerates, and sighs in relief as he realizes that the round is over. Ethan Crane, likewise, regenerates.]
Deity Guy: Good job, guys. Father Graves, what’s next?
[Graves pulls Deity Guy to the side and again whispers to him. Deity Guy bursts out laughing and, in a flash of light, two bottles filled with a clear liquid appear on the table. In another flash, two pouches appear next to the bottles. In the last flash, two boxes of matches appear next to the pouches.]
Edwin Cloudstar: I’m almost afraid to ask, but what’s all this?
Graves: The next round.
Deity Guy: This is a great one. See, the next round is deliberately planned spontaneous human combustion!
Graves: Each bottle holds a few ounces of lighter fluid. Each pouch holds a few scoops of gun powder. And each box of matches —
Ethan Crane: Ooo! Ooo! I saw this on television once! It was on “Faces of Death”! Either that, or “Looney Tunes”!
[Ethan Crane grabs a bottle of lighter fluid and chugs it. He then grabs a pouch of gun powder and scoops handful after handful into his mouth, chewing ravenously.]
Graves: [to Deity Guy] I like the vampire’s initiative. Well, for a blood sucking fiend, anyway.
[In the audience, a leech the size of a human hears the comment and hangs its feeler-covered head in shame. A fat man next to the leech places his hand around it in an attempt to comfort the creature.]
Graves: Oh, uh, a blood sucking fiend from Hell. Yes, from Hell. Not like you, Master Leech.
[Master Leech looks up again and gurgles in what Graves gathers to be joy. Master Leech then turns to the fat man and, using his razor-sharp teeth, tears the man to bits in spite of the man’s screams of terror and pain.]
Edwin Cloudstar: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Hold the phone. You want us to drink lighter fluid and eat gun powder, and then… what, exactly?
Ethan Crane: And then light a match and drop it into our mouths! [striking a match and lifting it to his mouth] Fame and fortune, here I come!
Edwin Cloudstar: No, Ethan! Don’t do it! [turns to Deity Guy] This has gotten out of hand. I quit, okay? I quit!
Graves: You what? Aw, come on!
Deity Guy: Very well. You gave up first, so you lose.
Edwin Cloudstar: Fine! I don’t care!
[Edwin Cloudstar turns and runs at Ethan Crane, tackling him. Ethan Crane struggles against Edwin Cloudstar and attempts to shove the match into his own mouth.]
Ethan Crane: No! It’s the greatest trick in the world, and I can only do it once! So let me do it!
Edwin Cloudstar: But if I do, you’ll die! Don’t you see? You’ll blow yourself up!
Ethan Crane: Like I said, it can only be performed once!
[Edwin Cloudstar finally grips the match from Ethan Crane’s hand and throws it to the ground. Edwin Cloudstar steps on it as Ethan Crane jumps at the match.]
Ethan Crane: My match! Oh, my precious match! My one chance at fame, and — [looking up at himself on the television] Oh! What a delightful program!
[Edwin Cloudstar brushes himself off and walks towards Deity Guy.]
Edwin Cloudstar: You’re completely insane. You know that, right? All of you embodiments are absolutely crazy. Haven’t there been enough deaths?
Deity Guy: Oh, come on. There was never any danger.
Graves: Says you.
Edwin Cloudstar: Whatever. Camilla’s going to hear about this. I don’t know what she’ll do about it, but you can be sure she’ll hear about it!
[Edwin Cloudstar storms out of the arena. Deity Guy turns to Graves, who is likewise leaving in a huff. With nowhere else to go, Deity Guy turns to Ethan Crane. He watches the screen for awhile, looking at himself and at Ethan Crane. He stares into his own eye and realizes just how bored he is again. Ethan Crane lifts the remote from his pocket, points it at the screen, and presses the button. Later, while Ethan Crane watches “My Jewish Fred” on a portable pocket television in the breakroom of Deity Guy’s arena…]
The Stupid: Ah, I thought I’d find you here.
Ethan Crane: Uh huh.
The Stupid: [pulling out a chair and sitting down next to Ethan Crane] You know, I’ve always admired you, vampire.
Ethan Crane: Uh huh.
The Stupid: Your apathy, your blood lust for small puppies named Bangles, your, uh, flamboyant… dress…
Ethan Crane: Uh huh.
The Stupid: Admirable. All of it.
Ethan Crane: Uh huh.
The Stupid: Say, you know what would be fun?
Ethan Crane: Uh huh.
The Stupid: Causing a little chaos for Lamp Prime and some of his champions. What do you think?
Ethan Crane: [putting down his television during the commercial break] Oh, hello. When did you get here?
The Stupid: [sighing] …Thrifty Scouts.
Ethan Crane: What?! [eyes turning red and fangs growing] Where?!
The Stupid: I’ll tell you…

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MMM Event #68: Edwin Cloudstar VS Ethan Crane

Posted by meekrat on June 3, 2010

[Deity Guy and Father Graves stand in the center of the Megadome, talking to each other. They continually snicker, and become increasingly excited as they converse. Edwin Cloudstar and Ethan Crane walk in, late for their event. Ethan Crane becomes immediately enamored with the television screens all over the walls of the Megadome, watching himself walk into the center of the arena.]
Edwin Cloudstar: Hey, uh, sorry I’m late. I know I have an event scheduled.
[Ethan Crane smacks Edwin Cloudstar in the back of the head with his cane.]
Ethan Crane: Pipe down! You’re interrupting the newest episode of my favorite program!
Edwin Cloudstar: [rubbing the back of his head] That’s not a program. It’s live. It’s happening right now.
Ethan Crane: Live? Even better! I do so enjoy when actors flub their lines on live television!
Edwin Cloudstar: We’re not really actors, though. Hey, you’re Ethan Crane, right?
[Ethan Crane‘s eyes slide slowly from the screen and turn a dark shade of red. A scowl appears on lips that do not quite cover pearly fangs. He turns towards Edwin Cloudstar, his whole body shaking with rage. Ethan Crane peers into Edwin Cloudstar‘s eyes as his own grow wide, his eyebrows curling downward on his forehead. Suddenly, his eyes turn bright yellow again, and he smiles impishly at Edwin Cloudstar.]
Ethan Crane: Yes, yes, you’ve found me, indeed! I am Ethan Crane. And who might you be, my good man?
Edwin Cloudstar: Er, Edwin Cloudstar. [extends a hand] I guess my next event is against you. [Edwin Cloudstar raises his voice slightly] Except Deity Guy seems to be too busy talking to that priest to tell us what our event is.
Ethan Crane: [He looks down at Edwin Cloudstar‘s hand, puzzled.] I’m afraid I don’t shake hands, sir. Nothing personal, I assure you.
Edwin Cloudstar: Ah. All right. I’ve met a lot of people who don’t shake hands, for one reason or another.
[Father Graves and Deity Guy look over at Ethan Crane and Edwin Cloudstar. Deity Guy can barely contain his laughter.]
Father Graves: Hey, the vampire and the immortal are finally here. I know you guys can live forever, but us “mere mortals” aren’t so fortunate, so we’d appreciate it if you could be a bit more punctual, please.
Deity Guy: Seriously. We mortals don’t have all day!
[Ethan Crane runs up to Father Graves and grabs his hand, shaking it vigorously.]
Ethan Crane: Ah, a priest! How good to make your acquaintance!
[Edwin Cloudstar‘s face becomes a mask of confusion, both at the vampire’s abrupt change of heart about hand-shaking, Deity Guy‘s claim of mortality, and the fact that Ethan Crane‘s hand isn’t burning at the touch of a holy man.]
Edwin Cloudstar: Didn’t you… aren’t you… why isn’t…
Father Graves: Uh, yeah. [Looks back at Deity Guy, and then at Ethan Crane again] You can let go. Now.
[Edwin Cloudstar sighs, shrugs, and decides to just go with it.]
Ethan Crane: Gladly!
[Ethan Crane‘s sleeve parts ways with his “hand”, revealing it to be a rubber fake. Father Graves looks at the hand and grimaces.]
Father Graves: [sarcastically] Ha. Oh, and “ha”, I guess. Fake hand. Pretty funny. [tosses the hand away] Deity Guy, it’s all yours. Let’s get the show on the road.
Deity Guy: Right. I mean, us mortals, we can’t just stand around shaking hands all days, am I right? Well, we decided to bring you two immortals down a peg or two. Immortal death match! To the death!
Edwin Cloudstar: You’re going to make us kill each other?!
Deity Guy: No, of course not. What would give you that idea?
Father Graves: See, you’re immortal, and so you can’t really kill each other. Well, the vampire can die, I guess, and I‘d love nothing more than if that were to happen… but I digress. Anyway, just because you’re immortals doesn’t mean you can’t at least try to kill each other, right?
Edwin Cloudstar: I refuse to kill Ethan, or to even try to kill him. He seems like a perfectly nice vampire.
[Ethan Crane turns his eyes from the screen to whack Edwin Cloudstar on the back of the head with his cane again.]
Ethan Crane: I said quiet, you buffoon!
Edwin Cloudstar: If I’m quiet, then I won’t be talking on the television!
Ethan Crane: What?! Trying to steal my spotlight, are you?! I’ll kill you for this!!
Father Graves: Whoa, there, Blood McChugger. There will be plenty of time for that later. [to Edwin Cloudstar] You may not want to fight him, but he obviously has a bone to pick with you, immortal.
[Edwin Cloudstar opens his mouth and raises a finger to say something, but long ago discovered that, sometimes, people will just try to kill you for the hell of it. He lowers his finger.]
Edwin Cloudstar: [to Father Graves, voice lowered] I still don’t think a straight-up fight would be a very good idea.
Father Graves: I’m sure we don’t care, but that’s nice to know.
Deity Guy: If the big baby doesn’t want to fight the vampire, then we’ll put their immortality to the test. Each test will be more potentially deadly than the last, but before they begin, we’ll describe the tests in excruciating detail! Are you prepared?

Learn more about the challengers:
Edwin Cloudstar
Ethan Crane

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MMM Event #39: Resolution

Posted by meekrat on May 12, 2010

[Deity Guy floats unseen above Edwin Cloudstar and the old guys. Edwin Cloudstar tenatively places his hand on the hilt of his sword, and inches back towards the wall as the elderly walk towards him menacingly.]
Elias Murphy: You don’t know anything about what I’ve been through! I was crippled, for God’s sake! Crippled and then I watched my friends all leave for parts unknown! They haven’t even visted me since I came back, you know that? They haven’t even come to see their old pal Elias!
Edwin Cloudstar: I’m sorry to hear that, sir! If it’s any consolation, I think all my friends may be dead!
Elias Murphy: You’re young! You’ll make more friends!
Edwin Cloudstar: You can make friends at any age!
Elias Murphy: I guess. Bah. I’m going to go watch Columbo.
[Elias Murphy wheels off, mumbling.]
Horatio Chan: I find out before I come here that I’m dead! You know what it like to be dead?!
Edwin Cloudstar: Um… yes. I can safely say that I do.
Horatio Chan: Hold on, you dead but you come back?
Edwin Cloudstar: I’m a special circumstance, but yes.
Horatio Chan: I see! Stupid boy, but maybe if you come back, I can come back too.
[Horatio Chan walks away, stroking his generous beard.]
Adam Supreme: Hello there, young man. What brings you to New York?
Edwin Cloudstar: This isn’t New York.
Adam Supreme: What? Isn’t it 1924 New York City? With my pals the Basset Hound Brigade?
Edwin Cloudstar: No. This is the beginning of the twenty-first century in some weird stadium between dimensions or something.
Adam Supreme: No, that can’t be right. Where have all the years gone?
[Adam Supreme walks away, devastated.]
Edwin Cloudstar: Okay, I feel bad about that one.
Frank MacGurdy: You should, you damn hippie! What do you spend your time doing? I bet you just sit around your damned quad playing the Halo.
Edwin Cloudstar: Actually, I’ve spent the past indeterminate amount of time wandering aimlessly and getting into stupid fights.
Frank MacGurdy: Good kid. We need more kids like you, even if your sword is a pansy weapon.
[Frank MacGurdy walks off]
Old Purple Lamp: You won’t get rid of me that easily!
Edwin Cloudstar: I don’t intend to.
Old Purple Lamp: So you’ll listen to my exploits as a Purple Lamp?
Edwin Cloudstar: I guess so.
Old Purple Lamp: Well, let me tell you about the time I fought my nemesis, Big Yellow…
[Eight minutes of meandering blathering later, Deity Guy reappears.]
Deity Guy: Good job, Edwin. Not only did you last the whole ten minutes, but you actually placated most of them. Except Adam Supreme, who you made cry.
Edwin Cloudstar: I feel terrible about that.
Deity Guy: Anyway, you win. Let me whisk-
Edwin Cloudstar: No, I’ll stay here and keep them company. All they really want is someone to talk to who isn’t as old as them.
Deity Guy: Ah. Oh. All right, then. I’ll ring you up for the next event.

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CYOB #72: Inside the Compound

Posted by meekrat on December 23, 2009

Dialog will now be color-coded. Charleston’s dialog will be black, Edwin’s will be blue, and Steve’s will be dark orange.


We’re going to do some espionage on these guys, which is a shame because I really wanted to punch things until they fell down.

We have to be careful. You’re not as immortal as I am, we should see what we’re up against before we go in and start up with the violence.

We have a colossal demon with us, though!

I’m not going in with you.

What? Why not?

I’m in enough trouble with my masters as it is. If I openly oppose their plans anymore than I have, then they’ll do unspeakable things to me.

You have to admit, that’s a pretty good reason not to get involved any further.

I don’t HAVE to admit anything, but yes. We don’t want the tentacle demon to have unspeakable things done to him. Would Japanese schoolgirls be doing these things to you? That would be really ironic.

No. Just… no. I’ll drop you two off here. Best of luck to you.

Wait, I have an idea! If we just go in, they’ll see us coming and I doubt we’d hit the door before we hit the ground. What if you acted like you had captured us and was turning us in? That might help your situation out a bit, too.

That might work.

All right, let’s do this.


Edwin and I are in the compound. Things didn’t go nearly as well as I had hoped. As it turns out, their alliance with the creatures of the abyss extends to a limited amount of omniscience concerning those creatures, such as our pal Steve. They knew our plan. Steve had to flee, and Edwin sacrficed himself and now I’m hiding in an air duct, and it smells really bad and I hate it. I take only minor solace in knowing that Edwin will be fine after he’s had some time to heal up. Now, I know in movies and whatnot they continually use the air-ducts as an efficent way to move around buildings and whatnot. My training as a TYRIS agent, and later as a defender of the Earth against the Apocalyptic Council, has taught me that this isn’t wise unless you’re especially light and nimble with the ability to know where you’re going in cramped quarters. Luckily, I’m fairy light and nimble, and-



As it turns out, you should make sure that the air-ducts are able to support your weight. These used some sort of light-weight metal and were unable to support me. Luckily, I landed in the middle of a hallway and ducked into the nearest doorway. Also, there is nothing trying to kill me in this room, as it’s a janitor’s closet. They use little motorized garbage cans. I have an idea.


I am now in one of the garbage cans after obtaining the remote control for it and cutting three holes into it. Two of the holes are so that I can see where I’m going, and the third is for this taser thing I found. If anyone gives me trouble, I’ll poke it through the hole and they’ll get electrocuted. Please don’t ask me how I know that this device works. As cover, I will use my tape recorder to synthesize beeps and whistles.


I’ve spent the better part of the day inside of this rolling garbage can. I am hot, sweaty, and I’m starting to think that something was rotting in here but was unable to not smell until I got in here. It might just be me, however. Several people have referred to me as an artoo-detoo. What the heck is that? Anyway, I have found out some intel. Edwin Cloudstar is being held on a lower level, since they have a file on him and know he can’t be killed. How do they have a file on him yet TYRIS and all these other places have no idea who he is, since he fell out of the sky a week ago? How did they manage that? Are there other people from Edwin’s world here? That will be questions I will ask when I rescue him. I have also found out that, in addition to Mayans and creatures from the Abyss, the Apocalyptic Council has a diverse collection of businessmen, religious leaders, politicians, and random other people. Muslims, Jerusalem, Americans, Europeans, Mayans, Africans, Canadians, Asians… if they weren’t getting together to make sure the Apocalypse happened, then it’d be downright inspiring to see people of such different creeds and castes getting along so well. Most of them also have some sort of super-power, and if my training has taught me anything, it’s that whoever is the head of this thing will have either all of these powers or none of them, because I guess it’s a really good idea to make the head of your organization someone who is easier to kill than everyone else.

I have learned where the head offices, so to speak, are. I was at the door after rolling up and down the hallway. It’s the only room on that floor, but it’s guarded by beings who make the Gray Man and those ultra-fast Mayan soldiers look like exceptionally weak and slow children. I couldn’t get into the office, so I think I’ll have to fight my way in. While time is of the essence, I think I should probably rescue Edwin first, simply because having an invincible swordsman with me would increase my chances exponentially. I could, of course, go it alone, but I’m reasonably certain that doing such a thing would get me captured or killed. Despite this, I’m having a tough time figuring it out. I shall go back to the janitor’s closet and figure things out.

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CYOB #71: S’treafael

Posted by meekrat on October 14, 2009

cyob70You know what, Edwin? I’ve had enough with being on the receiving end of having stuff done to me. I think it’s time we turned the tables a bit, give them a taste of their own medicine.

“So we’re going to try and trap them?”

We sure are. After all, we know what they want-

“They want us dead.”

Exactly, and I doubt they know about your special talent.

“So you basically want me to sacrifice myself when they get here or something.”

I guess. We still have to figure out how to lure them here.

“You have no idea what you’re doing at this point, do you?”

Of course.

“Of course you don’t, but that’s all right, because I was usually the same way. What if we just yell that we surrender?”

Could work.


Oh god oh god oh god!

“Keep running!”

Okay, so we set the trap. It seemed to be working, but they sent some sort of man in yellow after us and he brought with him eldritch horrors the likes of which you can’t imagine, nor would you want to, and right now we’re being chased by something that’s all beaks and tentacles and who knows what.

“Every time I stab it or slash it just makes a horrible sound, like it’s laughing or something! It’s mocking us!”

I thought you guys wanted us alive!

“My masters care not whether you are alive or dead! Behold, S’tareafel the Great and Powerful!”

That was the guy, oh god, a portal is opening up and… and… it looks like a green Zoidberg. From “Futurama.” Except he has tentacles instead of claws and legs, and giant black wings. Edwin?

“I’m on it!”

“Oh, don’t be afraid. I’m just glad to be free of that horrid abyss.”

The tentacle demon is talking to us.

“You can call me Steve.”

“Attack, S’treafael! Rend them limb from limb and violate their orifices like so many Japanese school girls!”

“No, I’ve never been into that. I don’t want to rape anymore. I just want to find love, settle down. You know.”

“I do not know! Attack!”

At this point, I don’t think is the same man in yellow that was in the mythos. Wasn’t that guy a king, anyway? I don’t know what’s up with this guy. He seems weird. Oh, S’treafael is approaching the other tentacle monstrosity.

“Listen, I know how Dad is, I know how he just wants me to come into this world and use my tentacles for… THAT, but I don’t want that anymore. I want to make friends.”

The other tentacled monstrosity made some sort of horrible noise. It’s like my ears were stabbed with dead rabid animals.

“I know, Uncle H’llrtyfnt. But this is my choice. So could you go back and tell dad?”

“No! Attack the interloper! Destroy Charleston Charge!”

Uh oh. Now both of the tentacle monsters are looking at me.

“You’re Charleston Charge?”

Yes… Steve. I am.

“Oh. We shouldn’t attack him anyway.”

“Yes you should!”


Oh lord. Oh good lord. Steve’s uncle is… doing unspeakable things to the man in yellow. Now he’s talking to Steve, and now he’s gone. Why didn’t you go, Steve?

“I want to stay here. Find myself. Find my purpose.”

Edwin is unshaken by all of this.

“I’ve seen far worse.”

“Can I travel with you?”

Do you know where the Apocalyptic Council is holed up?”

“I do. I can give you two a ride there, if you like. Anything to help Charleston Charge.”

All right, then. On the way there, we have to decide whether we want to do a full-on attack or sneak around and do espionage. What do you think, Edwin? Ah. Edwin just shrugged.

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