Chapter Thirty-One

Posted on 26. Nov, 2008 ·10

“I hear a mouse Rheeta.” said the little weird guy in the corner.

“Fuck the mouse, Hannibal!  Where are they?  What’s happening out there?”

 

Rheeta was livid.  She was pacing back and forth in front of a group of monitors, which showed nothing more than a bunch of bodies, most of them foxes and hyenas, with the occasional rat or wolf.  She was searching the rubble for us, and wasn’t getting anywhere.  Poor her.  Ha!

 

“I’ve been dreaming of this for a while Rheeta.  A mouse that is no mouse…a blender…a red soccer ball with eyes…Pele…”

“Shut up Hannibal…I have no time for your fucked up dreams now…where are they?”

“…in a skirt…the crowd goes wild…”

“SHUT UP HANNIBAL!!  This is the last time that I’m warning you.”

Taking a deep breath, I said “Now, now Rheeta…that’s no way to treat a flunky.”  and then dropped from the ventilation duct onto the floor, landing softly on the balls of my feet and the tip of my tail.

“…especially since he’s your last one.”

“LARRY!! You bastard!  How you survived this far is beyond me, but now you die! Hannibal, kill him!”

 

I looked over to the small creature in the corner, which I had just identified as a Gibbon, of all things.  He wasn’t even looking at me.

“Who me?  You took all my toys away remember…said I’d poke my eye out or something.”

“Nevermind…I’ll kill you myself.”  she said, and looked around for a gun, which I knew she didn’t have.  Just then, the door to my left virtually exploded into the room, followed closely by the size thirteen boot of Tim, my ex-gym teacher/compadre.  After him came Charly, Roger, and about twenty or more cats in full Scottish regalia…kilts, socks, the works!

 ”STOP!!”  I screamed, before they could open up on Rheeta with the thirty or so guns that were now pointing at either Rheeta or the little gibbon named Hannibal.  They all looked at me as if I was insane.

 ”She’s mine!”

“What are you going to do Larry…slaughter an un-armed fox with your swords?  You’re not the type, Larry.”

“You’re right…I’m not the type.”, I said.  Pulling both swords from my back sheaths, I tossed one in the air towards her.  She caught it with her left hand (I’d forgotten that she was a south-paw) and smiled…the smile then disappeared.

“What does it matter.  What’s to stop them from killing me when I get the upper hand?”

“Honor Rheeta…something you’ve forgotten.  Kill me, and you’re free to go, so long as you leave town forever, on my honor.  If you don’t leave, I can assure you that Charly won’t be able to resist himself, now will you Charly?”

 Charly was nodding vigorously and clucking at the back of his throat like he did sometimes.

 ”Let’s get this over with.”

             I walked over to within ten feet of her.  She’d been keeping in shape.  It’s funny how you remember these things in times like this, but I used to spar with her when we were close…before she turned to the dark side.  Damn but those leather pants looked good on her.  I leveled my sword, pointing at her eyes, mirroring her.  In Bushido, the battle is usually won before it is fought, in this ‘weighing of the adversary’ we were doing.  Fights rarely last longer than a few seconds, and the two know ahead of time who will win, before the first blow falls.  I didn’t know this time…and from her eyes, she didn’t either.  We moved at the same time…our last dance.  The first two blows were her favorites, a deadly combination to all but me, who’d faced them again and again, years ago.  Our blades sliced through the air ringing whenever they contacted.  My blade whirled in a deadly web, meeting her every slash, mostly trying to keep the blade from my body, and not yet getting the chance to attack.  It showed that I’d just fought a battle to get  up here, and she was fresh.  She got first blood, a shallow cut across my chest that felt like a cold spike through my heart.  The gasps from our audience spoke volumes.  It was time to push for my life…it was now or never time.  I stepped back a half-step, avoiding a low slash towards my ankles, and then switched the blade to my good hand.  The look on her face was to die for.  She’d forgotten that I was a south-paw as well.  From that point on, the fight was mine.  My sword darted around hers, and I felt the satisfying tug of steel cutting through flesh.  The cut across her chest matched mine like a bloody twin.  Three more times, my blade found it’s

way past her guard, each time marking a line across her chest, the second parallel to the first cut, and the next two perpendicular to the first, to form a cross hatch in the leather bustier…a bloody tic-tac-toe board on her chest.  I then stepped back and watched her collapse to one knee.  She was looking at her ruined chest, and touching the blood there.

 ”You always did like games Rheeta.  How about tic-tac-toe?”

“I loved you, Larry.  How could you?”

“You never loved me Rheeta…you used me.”

“What about you, Selena?  Aren’t you going to help me?  You promised that I’d get top billing in your book.”

 That’s when I noticed that Selena had walked in with the rest of them.  Everyone stared as she walked past her ‘Claymoors’ and up to the two of us.

 ”Ye nay rrread th’ small prrrint dearrrie.  Ye will get top billin’ in this heerrre boook.  As the villain.  Dinnah ye knoo that villains always die in th’ end?  It’s in th’ scrrreanwrrriterrrs guild han’book…page 435.”

“You bitch!”, she said and reached into her boot and pulled out a gun.  I took one quick step forward and said “Heads or Tails more your style?  My flip.” and sliced her head clean off.  It rolled past Charly and would have stopped near the corner if the weird little fuck of a gibbon hadn’t jumped up and kicked the head towards the door. 

 He then shouted “He shoots, he scores.”  and raised his hands.  ” I AM PELE!” he screamed and started walking around the room giving high-five’s to the ‘Claymoors’, as if he’s just scored a goal or something.  Weird little guy.

             I won’t bore you with the details of how we got out of the University, or how we blew the fucking remaining bits to smaller bits, or all about the long good-byes, or about the orgy that happened after that (sorry, Charly made me say that…there wasn’t any orgy…those ‘Claymoors’ may be wearing skirts, but that’s about how far the similarity to women goes.)  Charly and I both agreed that this town held far too many bad memories for us, so we decided to get the hell out of town and find some other adventures elsewhere.  Selena mentioned something about contacting us about ‘our contract’, whatever that meant…and about a sequel.

 

            Oh…I almost forgot…

 

 

“Larry and Charly walked into the sunset in search of another adventure to…”

 

Hey, I had to write that…it was in the ‘cooooontrrrract’ I signed before Mark and I started writing this thing.

 

CUE MUSIC…CUE CREDITS…

 

‘ We fight, we fight, we fight, fight, fight, fight, fight…

fight fight fight…fight fight fight…

The Chucky and Larry shooooow’

 

 

Written edited, spit upon, barfed upon, rewritten and finally handed in by…

 

Marc Gendron and Mark Wilson

(Slaves to the almighty contract)

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Categories: Uncategorized ·

Chapter Thirty

Posted on 26. Nov, 2008 ·2

“La…la…lalalala…Smurf the whole day long.  La…la…lalala…sing a happy song.”

“Hannibal shut the fuck up and report on the situation so far.”

“Weeeeeeelllll, we’ve lost a lot of troops.  The rebel forces have split up into bunches and have hit us hard from all sides.”

“Where are Larry and Charly’s bunch right now.”

“My sources have not been able to locate them right now.”

“What?!!? You’re telling me that the fucks are not in the building?!!”

“They most certainly are mistress.  What I’m saying is that we don’t know exactly where they are.  They may be dead or maybe just hiding out in a remote part of the complex, we just don’t know.”

“What fucking good are you, and your ‘sources’ if you can’t tell me what I need to know when I need to know it.  So, I’ll flush out the little fucks myself, in my own fucking way.  Felicia come here!”

“Yes mein Fuhruress.”

“It’s time.  No fucking turning back now. Initiate the ‘Sanctum Sanctorum Contingency’ authorize Rheeta Alpha 453209-F.8″

“But, mistress!  That will…”

“Yes, Felicia I know.  I have had it with these two fucks.  Sound the two minute warning.  Try to get as many

remaining foxes in here as possible.  But, if in two minutes they are not here in the fifth floor auditorium, then that is their tough shit.”

“Y…yes…yes mistress whatever you say mistress.  Right away.”

“Excellent!  Now we will find out where our little friends are, even if it means sifting through the fucking rubble.”

 

            We just arrived on the fifth floor level in the stairwell, when the entire fucking building  began to shake and move.  Bright flashing red lights in the stairwell lit up the whole fucking place, and we heard the sound of alarms ringing in the distance, and what sounded like grinding and squeaking of metal on metal.  The voice of Rheeta, or at least one of her bitch henchwomen, came over the loud speaker saying something about a two minute delay, and that all personnel, foxes in other words, were to report ASAP to the fifth floor.  We all hit the deck on the stairs to wait out the tremors, whatever the fuck it was.  Looking past Chucky, who was last in line in our ‘fist’, I almost shit myself when I saw a huge fucking steel re-enforced floor slide across the stair opening between the fourth and fifth floor.  Fuck me!  The bastards were sealing off the fifth floor!  Shit we were lucky as hell to have made it up when we did.  Otherwise, we would be royally screwed.  We wouldn’t have access to the Ron-ster or that bitch Rheeta, they would be totally secured in their little fifth floor fortress.  But, the truth remained that we threw a wrench in their plans and were sealed in with them.  Just then we heard the sound of a door crashing open to the stairwell on the floor just below us, followed by the sound of, frantic running up the stairs.  We all pointed our weapons at the three hyenas and two lions that ran like fuck up the stairs, trying to get above the seal off point before it was too late.  The lead lion made a last ditch effort to bridge the gap, but this was his final mistake.  The mechanized floor had already closed too much to allow anyone through, and consequently closed and sealed itself to the wall just as the lion was half way through.  The poor fuck was sliced in half by the powerful hydraulic steel floor as it closed for good.  I usually would have jerked off at seeing this poor fucker get exactly what he deserved, but he was still alive after his lower half was severed and looked up at me, more fucking accurately looked right

fucking through me, as if into my very soul, and his eyes tearing up in a combination of pain and remorse.  It almost looked as if he wanted forgiveness for his crimes against us vegetarian types. 

 

I couldn’t take it anymore, normally my reaction would be to jerk off in front of the poor fuck and cum on his face as he suffered a slow and painfully excruciating death.  But, this guy, fuck!  I knew in my gut that he was just an innocent victim to Rheeta’s fascist ideology and brutal way of ‘persuading’ people that she was right.  I knew that he really only ate meat to fucking go on living, it’s in his nature, so in my soul I silently forgave him and told Tim to shoot him in the head, ending his suffering.  Fuck!  I’m getting soft and mushy in my old age, shit!  The red flashing lights and alarms stopped just as suddenly as they began.  The building was deathly quiet, too fucking quiet, if ya ask me.  We all whispered to each other wondering  what the fuck was going on.  Then the sound of explosions coming from below us, one after the other.  Explosion after fucking explosion.  The bitch had sealed off and secured the fifth floor and was destroying the rest of the fucking building, floor by fascist fucking floor.  She’s fucking MAD!!  Doesn’t she know that the whole fucking building was going to come down and the fifth floor with it?!?  We slowly opened the door into the hallway to see if anyone was around.  One Hyena guard at the end of the corridor, that’s it.  I made quick and quiet end to him with a simple whoosh of a throwing dagger right to the chest, he never made a peep. 

 

We all piled into the now deserted hallway and Tim dashed ahead to retrieve the body of the Hyena so as to hide it in the stairwell where it wouldn’t be found.  We turned the corner and found a window, which we all silently went to get a look at what exactly the fuck was going on out there.  We could not fucking believe our eyes!  The building had already lost the entire first and second floors, the whole fucking building would have surely fucking plummeted to the ground dashing all of us, Rheeta and Ronny included, to atoms, but for one small detail.  The fucking fifth floor was being supported by four humungous steel beams, almost like fucking legs.  That cunt has lost all her fucking marbles!  But, it was brilliant in its concept just the same.  I guess this was one instance that gives meaning to the old expression ‘Crazy like a fox’.  She was taking out everyone who was not safely on the fifth floor, whether it be our troops or her own fucking troops. Man, she was certifiably insane.  I almost wished that Ronny was still running this show. 

 

Next thing we knew the third floor blew out.  All the pieces of rock and shit just crashed onto the ground.  Whoever was on that floor was surely among the twisted heaps of metal and rubble, dead as shit.  Fucking cunt she was going to pay very dearly for this slaughter.  I hated to think about all the fucking rats and wolves, that were with us for most of this mess, getting blown to bits by this psycho bitch from hell.  I couldn’t even imagine how the hyenas and lions and even her own fucking clan of foxes must feel to be left

high and dry and fucking liquefied by their own fucking commander.  It made no sense at all.

 

            Tim was restraining himself, we could see that.  Man, he had nerves of fucking steel!  Seeing all his

buddies with whom he’d trained and fought with in ‘Nam get mindlessly blown up by the queen of all

motherfucking bitches.  Being a military wolf, I could understand how passionate he would be about eliminating the Nazi element for our fair city.  I would be going ape shit with rage, but Tim, with stoic strength took it in stride and knew in his gut, that this butchery would not go unpunished.  Roger, on the other hand, didn’t seem to give a fuck.  He watched as the floors were being blasted out, one by one, knowing full fucking well that all his gang members were dying left and right, but he did not react, but whispered to Frenchie if she was free later this evening for a fuck and a movie.  Fucking anarchistic punks man.  No fucking code of honor or sense of brotherhood when it came right down to it.  So, it appeared as though it was just Chucky, Tim, Roger, Frenchie, Bruiser Wolf, Rikki and Freetos Breath rat, and yours truly, Larry.  Eight against who knows how fucking many where left.  That was at least one good thing about Rheeta’s little plan, she had no doubt wiped out half of her own fucking army as well as ours, so the odds were just a little bit more acceptable.  We decided it was time to try and find the inner sanctum of this death trap we were in and  finish it for good.  As we moved away from the window in search of the auditorium, the fourth and final floor blew out, killing any and all on that floor.  The Burger U. was officially just one floor

standing on giant fucking legs.  It must look really fucking stupid form the ground, but shit if it wasn’t clever.  I mean, no one could get up, and no one could get down, without of course plummeting to their deaths.  It was indeed a great, albeit sick, way to maintain control over the number of people one could fight at a time.  We turned the corner and again I flipped a dagger into the face of a hyena guard, silently we dragged his body back to the stairwell and dumped it with the other one.  This corridor, which seemed to form a sort of ‘U’ shape, was for the time being secure.  Roger, glanced out the window and out of the corner of his eye caught a most unusual sight.  A sight we least expected to see at this point in the game, but our hearts were filled with a little extra boost of courage and energy when we saw twenty of Selena’s ‘Claymoors’ marching in full Scottish dress.  Kilts and socks and the whole shit.  Fuck they were even playing the goddamned bagpipes for fuck sake.  Talk about a fucking entrance, shit! 

 

It was indeed impressive, but alas, they were too fucking late.  This fortress on stilts was too high off the

ground for anyone to reach it.  Their little overly flamboyant show was for naught, we were on our own.

 

            “What the fuck is going on.  What did you do to my University bitch?!”

“Well, Mr. McDonald, nice of you to join us.  I see you’re pretty good at untying knots, and picking locks.  How commendable of you.  Now shut up and sit down, my plan is going smoothly.”

“You destroyed my building!!”

“Yeah, and most likely those pesky vegetarians too, so sit down, stay out of the way and watch me win!  Felicia! Gather all the remaining troops that managed to make it up here and search the rest of the floor.  Then if our friends are not here send a team down to the ground to search the wreckage.  I want them found, dead or alive.  I want to add them to my wall of trophies at home.”

“Yes, mistress, but you would be left here un-protected, if…”

“Do you not think I am capable of taking care of myself?!”

“No mistress, I only meant…”

“Shut up and follow your orders, Captain!”

“Yavoul, Mein commandant!”

“Besides I have Hannibal and Ronald with me.  I have more than enough fodder to hide behind, should things get out of hand.”

 

            We took a wrong fucking turn this time, or the right turn depending on how you looked at it.  We turned into a hallway leading northward, according to Roger, being a sewer rat he had fucking amazing directional skills, and ran into a small army of hyenas and lions and foxes coming from the opposite direction.  We ran like fuck out of there, firing like all hell as we did.  We took cover around the corners of the entrance to the hallway.  I leapt into a somersault roll over to the other side to give us a better tactical position.  I saw them all splayed on the floor weapons at the ready.  some of them were slowly inching their way up to the ‘mouth’ of the corridor.  Looking above me I saw that there was a heating duct vent in the ceiling just over my head.  How fucking convenient eh?!  How fucking predictable non? 

 

I signaled, silently, to the others that I was going up, they nodded their approval, and up I climbed into the duct.  I saw Chucky roll, although not as gracefully as I, over to the side I had just been on.  As he crossed he took some pot-shots at the group, taking out a lion.  They fired back, but hit nothing but wall. 

 

As I slinked my way through the duct I heard Chucky whisper to Frenchie to stay on her side, but she was stubborn and ran across to be with her lover.  Charly screamed in rage and terror as Frenchie was blasted full of holes as she tripped over an empty gun shell on the floor.  Charly lost it and with good fucking reason, safely in the duct I watched as Charly and Tim and the rest of our little crew leapt out into the hallway blasting their guns and screaming to distract them.  They took out all the troops but lost Bruiser Wolf and Rikki Rat.  Fuck like we could afford to lose anybody.  But, at least this little pus patrol was blitzed.  I continued to crawl through the ducts as quiet as a fucking church mouse, and finally hit pay dirt.  I was directly above the auditorium that Rheeta was using as her sanctuary.  I could see Rheeta and Ronny and there was this weird fucked up thing in the center mumbling to itself, fuck knows what the hell that was, but it looked as though our fearless leaders were all by themselves.  Aces!!

 

            “You are one sick fucking bitch Rheeta.  I’m going out to get my gun.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you Ron, we don’t know who is out there.”

“Fuck you!!  I want my twelve-gauge and you ain’t fucking going to stop me.”

“Suit yer self, loser!”

 

            “Those fucks killed Frenchie!”

“Easy Charly, easy fella.  We’ll get them, don’t worry. Just keep yer cool.  We don’t need you going off half

fucking cocked now.  Especially not now.”

“Your right Tim.  I’ll stay focused as much as I can.”

“Thatta boy Chucky now lets see what we’re up against past these doors.”

I was fucking reeling man, like I’d just got kicked in the fucking stomach.  My babe was iced and I was gunning for the Ronnster more than ever.  We crept along the corridor and saw none other than the fucking clown himself step into a room and close the door behind him.  Ooooh his ass was mine!  I called dibs on the sour fuck’s hide and all the others didn’t argue.  They all agreed this was my hit, but they said they would be close behind, just in case.  I came up to the door and raising my Uzi began shooting the hell out of the door handle.  It was a rather effective way to pick locks let me tell you.  With the wood surrounding the door knob gone, the handle clanked to the floor, and the door swung open.  It was a fucking good thing that I dove out of the way ’cause a huge blast came through from the inside and took out Freetos Breath and took off Roger’s tail.  The fuckers were too fucking close behind me, and were not ready for the return fire…I was.  I kicked the door open and again dodged the inevitable coming of the second round.  The fuck was empty and had to re-load.  HAHA my turn!  I again kicked the door open, which swung back shut from the force of the twelve-gauge blast, and stood in front of the doorway.  Hahahaha!  What poetic justice!  The fucking cock-suck has sitting on the fucking can.  I was going to cap Ronald McFuckin’ Donald while he sat on the fucking pot and took a shit!  This was great!  Ohh, but I was going to make him suffer just a weeee bit first.  I pumped a few shots into his arms to prevent him from re-loading his weapon, and to make him feel a lot of pain.  I went over to the sour fuck and punched him square in the face with the butt of my Uzi.  I grabbed him and dragged him off of the can and slammed his head against the porcelain tank.  I slipped out my cock

and fucked him up the ass.  The little worm squealed in pain and discomfort as I pounded his hole till I came.  When I unloaded my cum up his rectal cavity, I plunged the barrel end of his own fucking shot gun up his ass and fucked him with it.  He was screaming obscenities at me, like I give a fuck.  He had fucked my life up enough, it was time for me to return the favor.  But, I preferred the more literal type than metaphorical. 

 

I took out my trusty grenade and jammed it into the bastards mouth, leaving the pin in for now.  I fished in my little ‘bag-o-tricks’ and retrieved two fucking shot gun shells, and loaded the twelve-gauge still wedged up Ronny’s ass.  I asked Roger to lend me one of his chains off his jacket, which seeing as he was wounded by this fuck, he generously obliged and I began whipping the bastard with the chain.  Each hit I screamed out a name of someone he had killed or made suffer with his butchery and savagery.  The fucker was red and bleeding with fucking inch long welts all over his motherfucking body.  I went over and pulled the pin to the grenade and said “This is for Frenchie, you pig!”  I then went around to the butt of the gun and pulling the triggers to both barrels cried…”…and this is for me, you piece of fucking shit!!!” 

 

I ran down the hall ushering the others along before the grenade went off.  We hit the deck just as the grenade went off.  Chunks of Ronald…YES!!!!…splattered all over the hall and us.  But we didn’t give a fucking damn.  I got my fucking revenge and oooo was it sweet!!

 

            Our celebration was short lived, however, ’cause around the corner came a dozen or so foxes heavily armed and gunning for us.  We were sitting ducks for these bitches.  We were all sprawled on the floor from the force of the explosion and were essentially un-armed, our weapons having been flung from our hands as we slammed into the floor.  Twelve against four and Roger was badly hurt, so I don’t know how much help he would be.  We were surrounded by foxes, all pointing their guns at us and not looking to happy.  I looked up at one of the foxes who opened her mouth and looked as if to speak, when out poured a huge river of blood instead.  She quickly slumped to the floor along with the rest of her troops.  As they fell we noticed they all had arrows in their backs and saw Selena’s ‘Claymoors’ standing behind where the foxes once stood, bows in hand.

 

“Where the fuck did you guys come from?  We must be hundreds of feet off the ground with no way up or

down!?”  I asked.  They just smiled and said something about mistress Selena had her way of getting things done. 

 

Fuck me!  I didn’t really give a fuck how they got up, just so long as they were here and on our fucking side.  The odds were stacked considerably on our side now.  I couldn’t help but wonder how Larry was doing, in his search for the inner sanctum.

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Categories: Uncategorized ·

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Posted on 26. Nov, 2008 ·Comments Off

Everything shone that morning.  The sun was bright, and reflected beautifully off of the new wax job on the Lamborghini, and the bikes and the now not-so-grimy Suburban.  It was quite a sight to see…really, it was!

“What the fuck!?!”

“Well, you guys took soooo long getting your shit together that me and the boys…er…rats, decided to kill a little bit of time last night.  We did tune ups on the wheels, then we washed the fuckers, then we waxed and buffed up everything…then we..”

“All right, all right.  We get the picture.  So we took our time.  Time to go.”

“S’about time…”

“ALL RIGHT I SAID!!”

“Sheesh”

<GLARE>

<GLARE RIGHT FUCKING BACK>

 

            The roar of the engines starting echoed off of the peaks next to Tim’s cabin and bounced towards town far below, it’s only a pity that there wasn’t a vegetarian left to enjoy the sound…or at least there might have been a few vegetarians left to enjoy it.  Mark hadn’t written just how effective the bomb was…only that it took out Joe-Normal et al. in the middle of town.  Just to be safe, Marc was going to follow up on the carnage a little bit…ahem.

            When Roger, Tim, Charly, Larry and the gang got to the edge of town, they couldn’t believe their eyes.  The level of chaos was amazing!  Almost every building in the area was on fire or already burnt to the ground.  Meat-eaters were everywhere, trying to stop the fires before their homes could catch as well, some trying to make the most of the fires and looting or feeding on the dead and wounded.  Some of the rats took a few shots at the latter, but no matter how many they actually shot, two more were ready to take their spots at the feeding frenzy. 

 

One dog was sitting at the side of a little boy who’d been walking him, and was licking at the little hand, whining incessantly.  Larry tried to chase it away, but it only growled once, whined again, and sat back down.  A few people walked about, dazed and confused, some holding bandages up to their heads, trying to stop the bleeding that had already stopped.  The streets were full of ME’s (Meat Eaters), but nowhere to be found were the VE’s (Vegetarians).

“The bastards!  The fuckin’ sonofabitches did it…they went and did it!”

“Did what Larry?”

“They dropped the big one!”

“Huh?”

“They dropped the Anti-Vegetarian bomb that they mentioned on page 98.”

“Now we have an even GREATER cause for hunting down and killing Ronny and his bunch of mass-murderers!  I don’t believe that he could do such a thing…now Charly and I won’t have much of a choice but to leave after all this is over.  We’ll walk out into the sunset just like the prophecies said we would.  Look at this place, man.  We won’t be able to live here after all this.  Shit!!”

“Nice monologue.”

“Thanks”

 

            We drove past all the shit that Ronny’d done.  He’d really fucked the town over.   The mood had changed from something glorious, to something darker.  It was turning into a quest for vengeance.  The rats and I would get the asshole Ronny for all this shit.  We’ll hold the fucker down while the rest of the gang took their shots at him, then we’ll cut the fuck open like a sardine can, and pull the fucker’s intestines out and wrap them around a long pole.  Then we’ll parade the fuck through Farmtown to show what happens to people who fucked with us.  I instantly regretted waxing the bikes.  We looked like we’d never taken a bad hit, while the rest of these poor fucks had taken one hit to the groin.  Sure, we looked slick…like knights in shining armor, but…fuck!  People hardly noticed us, and those that did never knew that we were on their fucking side, and were out to get the sour fuck that’d done all this shit to them.  We quickly drove through the place, and took the newly renovated tunnel out of the city onto the road leading to BU (Burger University).  Both Charly and Larry looked to where their rides had been taken out of the picture, and out of the story, almost at the beginning.  Charly cringed the most, and developed a twinge on that one.  I still don’t know how the lucky fuck got out of that one alive, and in one piece. 

 

The rest of the ride to the BU was in silence.  Everyone was getting their anger up to a boil.  That hatred would help us keep the adrenaline going for the upcoming fight.  Ronny’d given us an adrenaline rush without even thinking about it.  He’d given us “Rightful Indignation” , and that would be his fuckin’ problem in the end.

 

            We started hitting the first resistance about a mile from the University.  From out of nowhere, a shot rang out and hit one of the wolves knocking him off his bike, and onto the pavement.  The way he rolled, like a broken doll, we knew that he’d died even before he’d hit the pavement.  We quickly stopped the caravan, jumped off the bikes and leapt into the ditches for cover.  Nothing happened for a while, and then one of the rats started to get up and head for his bike.  A shot rang out and spun the rat like a top.  He hit the pavement hard, but he wasn’t dead. 

 

From the way he was writhing though, we could all tell he was in pain.  The rats were arguing about whether or not to go out and try to rescue their fallen brother.  I guess that it was taking too long for the sniper, wherever he was, because he put another bullet in the writhing rat…this one in the leg.  The rat howled like one of my brothers, but he didn’t die.  One of the rats ignored the others and took off for the middle of the road to pull his bud out of the line of danger, but before he’d gotten more than five feet, a shot’d taken him in the head, killing him instantly. 

 

Me and the Wolven had seen stuff like this in ‘Nam.  The sniper would try to draw out the heroes and pick them off like flies.  Another shot hit the fallen rat, and knocked him back to the pavement where he’d managed to get to a kneeling position.  This time, one of the guys spotted the shooter, and it was time for us to go into action.  My boys are bad-ass mothers.  They did their tours of  ‘Nam and came out with some impressive skills.  One of them started putting together a sniper rifle from out of a foam incased satchel, which he’d smartly taken with him into the ditch.  It only took him thirty seconds, even with his ham-sized fists, and then he was taking aim. <THMPT> The sniper fell out of his tree and hit hard.  The rat was almost dead, and didn’t last too long after we’d started bandaging him.  Selena wouldn’t have been able to help him, even if we’d brought her along with us, which we didn’t.  The two rats went into the sewer grill as per Roger’s instructions.  “From the sludge…back to the sludge”  he’d said…whatever that meant.  We were a bit more cautious from that point on, and didn’t get caught with our pants down again.  The second patrol we hit was  within sight of the gate.  We’d abandoned the bikes and the cars to be on foot.  It was going to be a quiet but effective assault, and the Harleys just made too much damned noise for that.  We managed to avoid this bunch by pressing to their left, and then sending a couple to double back and finished them off. 

 

Frenchie played her part well, distracting them using her “best walk”, as she called it.  The fucks were too busy looking at her fabulous ass, not even asking themselves what the hell she was doing in the middle of the forest, to notice the two wolves and Larry coming up from behind them.  I gotta admit though…Larry sure can use those blades of his effectively when he puts his mind to it.  He took two of their heads off with one swipe and was half way to the third before the bodies even hit the ground.  He never got the chance to reach the fox though, because one of the Wolven came out of nowhere, and had wrapped a garrote around the poor fuck’s neck and snapped it before the guy could even blink.  The last one died noisily when the other wolven’s knife didn’t work fast enough. 

 

That was the end of our silent assault.  Whistles started blowing right away, and bells started ringing.  The next thing we knew, shots were coming from the windows of the infamous Burger U.  Shit!

 

            It was time to split up, all right.  It certainly wasn’t any good to let them pin us all down at the same spot.

 

Eventually, they’d take out the big guns and just hit the spot we were all bundled into so conveniently.  There was a slight change of plans, though.  Some of the rats had gotten an idea from the impromptu burial a mile back, and they headed, in two bunches of four towards sewer holes we’d seen a while back.  With them went two wolves, each with safe-breaking backgrounds.  Maybe they’d find a way through the perimeter that way, and be able to get to an opening.  Frenchie’s little trick wasn’t going to work this time.  They’d admire her beautiful bod all right, but then they’d fill it full of holes so the fuckers wouldn’t have to wait their turns raping her.  Weird fucks!  Two ‘fists’ (small pack of five wolves) were going to take some of the heat from the rest of us by distracting hit-and-run attacks on the perimeter fence (this is not to say that they wouldn’t get in when the time was right, but only that they had greater potential for damage from outside), while Larry, Charly, Frenchie, Roger, his two (dispensable ensign type) other rats, and I with my second in command Terrence, would go over the fence in the rear.  The sun went down slowly, shining in the eyes of the sum in the B.U. building, and putting us at a distinct advantage.  We’d scattered a bit and were trying to thin out the perimeter defense a bit before making a run for it.  We’d scored a few hits, but only one definite kill.  We did manage to take out two of the search lights that Charly had spotted before the shit hit the fan.  He really had good eyes and had mumbled something about a strain of Eagle in his family tree

somewhere.  The enemy didn’t really notice that only specific lights had been taken out of the picture…that is, the lights that would cover a little bit of land that we wanted to take as our route in.  The sun was almost down, and we could already hear the grenades from the two ‘fists’ putting big holes into the fences.

 

<WHOOOOOOOOOSH KA_BOOOM!!>

 

A streak of light followed by a blinding explosion showed where one of the ‘fist’ had succeeded in hitting the

power-plant on the side of the supplementary building.  The lights going out showed that they’d done enough damage to it for our needs.  The power came back on immediately, or at least most of it did, the red emergency lights turning the snow a coppery hue, that would swallow the blood of our enemies.   The power had come on very  quickly, and had found a ‘fist’ of wolves out in the open, racing for the building.  They’d been forced to jump behind a dumpster for cover, half-way to the building.  Unfortunately, two of the wolves hadn’t quite made it to the dumpster.  One was using the body of the second for cover, and popping off shot after shot into the lights.  He wasn’t going to last long, not with that cover.

 

            It was dark in here.  Even with the flashlights to help us out, and our eyesight which was used to this kind of lighting.  The explosions were echoing down the passage ways, letting us know that the shit was on, and that we didn’t have all that much time to get to the building.

 

“Hey, Freetos Breath.  How much longer?”

“shh, keep talking in low capital letters…that way they won’t hear us .”

“Oh…I’m sorry.”

“we should be under the fuckin’ building now, but I can’t find an open grill…much less a closed one, don’t these fuckers take a crap.  they aren’t like normal cartoon characters like Bugs fuckin’ Bunny, who’s been eating carrots for twenty years and still hasn’t taken a dump.”

“Stand…um, stand back…I’ll make us an exit.”

“let the wolf pass.”

 grumble grumble

 

<BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM OOM oom oom oom oom>

 

“shit…does it have to echo like that?”

“WHAT?!”

“I SAID SHIT DOES IT HAVE…’NEVER MIND…HIT IT!!!!”

 

            The dust wasn’t even settled when we jumped out of the hole in the floor that the wolf had conveniently placed beneath to feet of two hyenas doing rounds.  This had been easily done considering that the bomb had taken almost an entire hallway, and the odds of NOT taking out someone was pretty shitty.  We had to find our way to a rear door to get the thing open for Larry and the rest to find their way in…even if I wanted to go for the clown alone, with my bunch, we’d get slaughtered.

 

            The sewer grill squeaked shrilly as I pushed it aside.  Didn’t these fuckers ever oil these things?  Yup, this would do all right…perfect.  The rats squirmed out one by one into the small janitors hall on the other side of the hole, and covered the only door to the place.   The wolf had a fuck of a time getting through the hole, but eventually, with a bit of heaving on our part, and some huffing and puffing, hehehe, on his part, he got through and we were on our way.  The corridor outside was empty except for a pair of lion guards at either end…easy enough.  We popped out easy as pie and quickly shot the two fuckers in the hall.  The silencers helped out a good bit.  A pile of “thppt” sounds later, and we were in the clear.

 

            “Hutnee me laddies…tis time ta strrrrike whilst the irrrron is ‘ot.  Larrray an his boonce of rrats ‘rrr on de att’k nue and w’l neeed ourrr he’p.  Onwarrrrds heathen sol’ierrrrs, marrrrchin’ as to warrr. (I know…I know…it’s a Christian not Pagan song…but what else do religious nuts sing in war)

 

            Well that’s it it’s official.  The war has begun.  We were up to our asses in shit.  And I mean trouble not that brown steaming ooze that rips its way out your fucking asshole.  I mean, shit!  We had at least breached the perimeter, not with a neat little explosion like I had hoped, but hey!  We knew this wasn’t goin’ to be no fucking walk in the park.  So, on to plan ‘B’.   The ‘on your own’ arrangement.  We split up into small groups, believing without a doubt that this was the smarter option.  This way each ‘bat’ could wreck havoc on their little fortress in their own special way, and still have the security and power that comes from a team assault as opposed to a single individual.  We had taken out a good number of fuckers so far.  Not as many as I’d hoped, but still every little bit helps.  We had lost a few of our own as well,  but I guess we all couldn’t expect to come through this mess unharmed.  Who fuckin’ knew that Tim and his gang were in the fucking Vietnam war together?!?!  Holy good fuck, but that sure the hell is a bonus for our side.  Then again, Rheeta and her squad of neo-nazi foxes were not exactly inexperience with war and heavy artillery.  In school they were all on the archery team and rifleman’s Club. 

 

They were founders of the local chapter of the Ku Klux Klan and started a skinhead gang to do most of their dirty work for them.   They were in the army cadets and the grenadier guards.  They even went on a field trip to Germany were they trained with the remaining SS Gestapo.

 

            “The fuckin’ Gestapo man! Can you believe that?!?”

“Yeah Rog’, we know…we were there remember?  Why are you telling us all this now…in the middle of a fire

fight?”

“Uhmm…nevermind…just talking to myself…keeps me calm.”

“Sure…whatever…”

 

            What the hell was keeping them anyway?  It was supposed to be a quick entry into the building, fight their way to the front door, and let us all in.  We were being shot at like crazy!  They must have been stocking up ammo for a year for this one, even though Larry and Charly’d only started this vendetta a few short months ago (even taking into effect the weird change of seasons at the beginning of this story)

 

            One more corner to fight our way around, and we were going to be right at the front entrance, or so the wolf had said…but then again, he’d said that at the last turn.  We’d encountered fairly weak resistance so far, but I guess that they’d be keeping their heavier stuff on the tower taking potshots at our boys outside, or massed inside for a last ditch effort at pushing us out in case we got this far.  The last of the hyenas fell to the fire coming from our bunch.  We hadn’t lost a man yet, but that might change soon enough.  Sure enough, there were the front doors.  Behind the security desk were three lions with what looked like a fifty caliber rifle on a pod, pumping bullet after bullet out into the night.   The tracers made the thing look almost like laser beams going out…it was pretty, but there was no mistaking the rattling cough from a high caliber gun like that…that was the sound of death. 

 

Smiling, I popped out a grenade from my belt clip and popped the pin on the little pineapple grenade.

“Watch this.”

“Where’d you get that one, Freetos ?”

“Shhh…HEADS UP!”

 

The grenade rolled across the waxed, shining floor (washed every fifteen minutes by a pubescent geek with an identity crisis, who thought that Ronny was a God) and came to a stop right under their legs.  The look on their faces was irresistible man!  I couldn’t help but pull out a disposable camera and take a few quick pics before the grenade went off and sprayed their flea-bitten hides all over the walls.  I took a few more shots, and then we rushed to the doors and threw them open.  The flares we’d brought came in very handy for just this, and lickety-split, the front door looked just like a landing strip where our forces would come in.  I took a pull on my cigar and said “Shit! I love it when a plan comes together.”

 

“Hey that’s my line” said Hannibal from the A-Team.

“Hey, that’s my name!!” said Hannibal the Gibbon.

“Shut up, Hannibal!”

 

            The flares looked like paradise to me, but then again, I’d been under fire from heavy machine gun for more than my share of minutes now, and almost anything would look good to me.

 

“There the fuck they are, finally!”

“Good eyes Roger.  We’re going in guys, keep your heads down and your asses in gear…especially you Larry.  We need you for the climactic ending.”

“Sure thing, Chuck.”

 

We popped out a few smoke grenades and started running towards the front door, firing shots towards the

windows, trying to keep the fuckin’ sniper’s heads down while we were out in the open.  It was the longest fuckin’ hundred meters I’d ever run.  I was so fuckin’ proud of Frenchie!  Not only  hadn’t she cracked, like I thought she might when the shooting started, but she’d actually popped a few shots off at some of those fascist foxes, and even hit one!  I knew that her husband had pissed her off, trying to kill her, but I hadn’t realized the anger in her.  It was turning her on!

 

            Everything was working out beautifully according to plan.  The binoculars were bringing everything into perspective.  It was actually going to work out like I’d planned after all.  So what if a few of the lions got

scragged…that was their business after all, not mine.

 

“There’s no place like home…there’s no place like home.”

<CLICK><CLICK>

“Stop saying that Hannibal…and for God’s sake, get those damned ruby slippers from off your feet!”

“But Rheeta…they look so nice on me.”

“Shouldn’t you be getting in place for the grand finale?”

“I wanted a window seat…not an aisle seat.”

“Shut up and go, Hannibal!”

“Yes mistress.”

 

“Oh, yes by all means Larry, Charly come in, come in…and take all your friends in with you.  Yes, there you

go…and you too…uhm…you too…there that’s all of you.”

 

Rheeta put down the binoculars, and grabbed the CB on the table.

“Red tide…this is Foxy Lady.  Red tide, this is Foxy Lady…close the door.  Now!”

 

            From the woods near the north side of the building, the floor seemed to rise for a moment.  The snow banks, made with hardened plastic shells and covered with a light layer of snow were pushed aside, and from beneath them came twenty-five of Rheeta’s best armed and best trained fox commandos, and five lions wearing strap-on fifty caliber rifles in low slung shoulder/hip cradles.  They started at a run towards the front doors through which Charly and his bunch had just entered.  A touch of a small button on the desk next to the CB sealed all the other doors and windows.

 

“What the hell?!?! The windows…the door, they’re slamming shut everywhere!!”

“It’s a trap…back to the door!  Everyone out now!!”

“Too late…here come the reinforcements!  Rheeta, you bitch…I’ll get you for this one! I’ll cut off your other tit for this one!”

 

<<”NOT LIKELY LARRY…GET READY TO MEET YOUR MAKERS HAHAHAHA>>

<BLAM><BLAM><BLAM><FIZZLE><FIZZLE><POP>

 

“Well, at least we don’t have to listen to her on that damned speaker system anymore.  Retreat to the hallways!”

 

We were fucked now.  Why hadn’t I seen this one when I’d set up this plan-B?  This building could become a

deathtrap, just like outside.  Plenty of spots where snipers could  hide, or booby-traps could be set up…all giving Rheeta a full, and safe view through her security cameras.  Tossing a few grenades, and one lit stick of TNT behind us, more to slow them down then to do actual damage, we headed at a full run towards where I’d seen the fire stairs.  With luck, these’d be open, and we could fight our way up, floor by floor to the top floor five stories up where, supposedly, Rheeta would be along with Ronny, our arch-enemy.  A couple of rats agreed to stay behind and hold the stair entrances for us for as long as they could, before joining us.  Every moment counted now.  We couldn’t get caught in  the stairs with no room to maneuver, but at the same time, we had to get upstairs…and the elevators were out of the question.  We hit the doors hard, thinking that they’d be locked too, but they were open, and Tim went flying through them almost as if he was running the old obstacle course back in Gym class where he used to be our teacher.   Damn, but these weren’t your average obstacles…but then again, Tim had never been your average Gym teacher.  I remember that he’d been the only teacher to ever get accepted into the student’s smoking area, near the back stairs, and that he’d roll his own cigarettes with what he called his “special blend”, which smelled far too sweet to me.  He’d whistle “Werewolves in London” and pass around his cig’ for a toke or two. Now, he was risking life and limb for us, and taking his ‘Nam buddies with him.  We really owed him big for this one.

 

“C’mon, move it Lizzzz-arden! This isn’t the time to reminisce.”

“You got it, Tim!”

 

            Oh, this was working out even better than even I had ever thought possible.  I’d gotten Larry, Charly and his bunch stuck in the fire stairs of this little fire-trap that Ronald called a University.  Ha, what a joke this was…and I was going to see it all go down.

 

“Now, if I could only finish zipping up these leather pants…ugh..everyth…ing would be great.”

“You really look spooky in that outfit Rheeta.”

“HANNIBAL!! What the hell are you still doing here?!?! I thought I’d told you to get ready.”

“Rheeta…I am ready.  This hiding spot is closer than you think.  hehehehehehehahahahahahahohoho.”

“Don’t get nuts on me now, Hannibal.  We’ve only got a little while left…you can go nuts afterwards.”

“Yes, Rheeta. Hmm…you look just like Darth Vader in that outfit…only Dathy-boy never had tits like those…nice job rebuilding that left one by the way.”

“Thanks. I thought that the cape was a nice touch.”

“It’s a pity you don’t have a face mask too.”

“Why…Oh, you asshole!  Get back in your hole.”

“Yes, Rheeeeeta.”

 

            The bullets were echoing through the stairwells, and ricocheting from off of the metal stairs in every

conceivable direction.  At least they weren’t using the heavy explosives.  They, like us were afraid to use the Big Bangs, just in case they brought the whole stairway down on our heads, with them on it.  A few times, we’d gotten close enough for Larry to actually use those blades of his.  The guy was really strung up about not being in the middle of the fire-fight, and was taking every opportunity as if it’d be his last.  This time, he’d leapt up the stairs three by three, and jumped right into a bunch of hyenas coming down to replace the last bunch we’d pushed back. 

 

Larry landed right in between two of them, and on the chest of a third.  The crunch from that guy’s ribs echoed sickly up and down the stairs, but not quite as loudly as the screams from his fellows as Larry sliced into them. 

 

With one swoop, he brought his sword up, slicing the arm off of the Hyena on the right.  Ignoring him for a

moment, he deflected the barrel that had been heading for his belly with the sai that he was keeping in his left hand.  The roar from the gun going off nearly blocked out the scream the guy gave off when Larry brought the sword around for a short cut.  The Hyena had been leaning back, trying to get out of the range of that fearsome sword, and the blade only caught him across the cheek.  It cut through one cheek, nicked the tongue sliced it’s way out the other cheek, effectively freeing the guy’s lower jaw from the muscles used to work it.  His jaw hung loose, a grisly gasp on his face which only lasted a moment more.  I shot the guy’s face off so I wouldn’t have to look at that again, although I knew that I’d see it again and again in the future.

 

            Ronny opened the door to the freezer slowly, not only because he didn’t want to be caught, but because he was half frozen from his stay there.  Picking the door open using the freeze-dried penis of his ex-lover had been tough, but not as tough as it would be to get to Rheeta and pay her back!

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Categories: Uncategorized ·

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Posted on 20. Nov, 2008 ·1

“Heffer? Heffer is that you, son?”

“Yes, mom it’s me, I’m home, finally home!”

“I thought I’d never see you again <SOB> when those evil men came to take you away…I…I thought you were a goner.”

“Well, mom I would have been made into a “Big Mac” if it wasn’t for Chucky & Larry and their band of freedom fighting Rats and wolves.”

“Oh, my heroes!!”

 

            “Hyenas, fall in and sound off.  Lions, fall in and sound off.  Hannibal, take off that stupid face mask and get over here.”

“Yes, mistress of mayhem, right away.”

“Fuck off!  Weasels, get over here and get in line.  foxes, fall in and sound off.”

“Horacio Hyena, commander in chief of the Hyenas, reporting mistress Rheeta.  All twenty of my remaining

troops ready and accounted for.”

“Simba Lion, commander in chief for the lion pride, reporting mistress Rheeta.  All twenty of my lion pride army is present, ready and accounted for.  No casualties reported in the ranks as yet, mistress.”

“Warner Weasels, last remaining member of the Weasels gang, reporting for duty, BITCH!”

<BLAM>

“Scratch one Weasels from the ranks Hannibal.”

“Yes, Rheeta.  Whatever you saaaaaaaayy Rheeta, you don’t have to put on the reeeed liiiight, Roooooooxaaaaaaane put on the Red light!”

“HANNIBAL!!! SHUT UP!!”

“Sorry, Rheeta, NEE!”

“Uggg, that idiot! Felicia are all the troops ready?”

“Yes, Ma’am. minus the casualties of course.  All thirty of us that are left are ready, present and accounted for Mein Fuhreress.”

“Excellent! Excellent! Now all we have to do is wait for that fuckhead McDonald and we can begin to assume our battle formations, and wait for our little “friends” to show up for their own funerals,ha…haha…hahaha…

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHA!!!!!!”

 

            “Frenchie, sweety, I care too much for you to risk having your tits blown off…err…I mean having you get hurt.  I want you to stay here at Tim’s place ok?”

“No way! I’m going with you.  I know how to fire a gun.”

“But Frenchie you’ve been in the hospital twice already and that was only one on one combat.  This battle will be much, much more dangerous.  There are over fifty or more of them and they all have automatic and explosive projectile weaponry you’re not ready for a battle of that magnitude.”

“You sexist pig!  Just because I’m a woman you think I’m going to get hurt.  Well, let me tell you something

fucker! I can take care of myselOUCH! FUCK!”

“Frenchie, are you okay?”

“WHO THE FUCK LEFT THIS CHAIR HERE RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FUCKING FLOOR WHERE

ANYONE COULD TRIP OVER IT!!!?!??!”

“Ummm…you did Frenchie.”

“Oh…”

 

            “Red, Red, I’ll be fine…no I won’t…Red, please stop crying…Red, plea…NO, I’m not marching into the eye of death…Red, please I just called to say that…NO!! I’m not going to DIE! No, fucking group of misfit meat-eaters are going to take yours truly…What!!??…I’m not taking out any fucking life insurance, are you nuts…I know, I know it’s cause you care about me, but really babe…Yeah, I know, right back at ya babe, I’ll call ya in a few days…yes, I promise.  See ya… <CLICK>

 

            <RIIIIING><RIIIIING><RIIIING>

“I don’t fucking believe this she isn’t home!”

 

            We rats don’t have any ties to worry about.  We hang together and each other is all we need.  Families suck shit!  We are each other’s family if one o’ us get offed then we know about it ’cause we’re always together.  Look at all these pussies calling up their girlfriends, saying their little “good-byes” and “I love you.” BAH! HUMBUG!  If ya die, ya fucking die!  That’s it, eat the body and move on.  That’s our way, the way of the nomad-hard-core-punk sewer rat gang.  BRING ON THE BITCH!!

 

            <RIIIIING><RIIIING><RIIIIING><RIIIING>

“Come on Nancy, pick up the phone…”

<CLICK…HI, I’M SORRY I CAN’T COME TO THE PHONE RIGHT NOW…>

“Awwww fuck!  I got her blasted answering machine.”

<BEEEEEP>

“…umm…Hi Nanc’ It’s um… ahem… Larry-poo… um… tomorrow is the big one, and well, I just wanted to say…if I don’t make it, that…well that I … <BEEEEP> Fuck! These fucking things never leave enough fucking time to leave a half decent message.  Shit!!  She’s going to think I’m nut.”

“And you’re not?”

“Fuck you Charly, you know what I mean!!”

“Yeah, I know but I just wanted to  ruffle your scales. hahahah…”

“Mmmm”

 

            Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Tonto posing as a door gets his knob shot off. WHAT?!?!? Oh…umm…I mean over at the Selena Entertainment Corporation, its President, founder, owner, G.M., CEO, propriet…

 

WE GET THE PICTURE!

 

was sitting quietly in her office, when a mysterious stranger in a black trenchcoat and black fedora,

conveniently covering his face from YOU, the reader anyway, walked in and rudely sat down before being offered to sit down.  I mean really!

 

            “Nay! th’rrrz noo wey!  Ye canna chenge th’ ploot rrrreght neeerrrr th’ en’.  Ye, sayn’d a kontrrrrr’ct.”

“I never signed no fucking contract.  Besides I don’t like the way my character is being portrayed.  As a sniveling subservient cock-sucking loser to that bitch fox.  Oops! So much for suspense as to my identity.”

“Les’n Rrrron’.  Ah ooon awll rreghts t’ thes stoooray.  Feerrr th’ moost perrrt Ah Lit Marrrc an’ Marrrrrk tek i’ weeeere th’y may.  An’ tha’s tha’.  Nooow geet oooot!”

“Fucking bullshit, man! Hey! Marc and Mark, don’t you ever let me catch you in any of my fucking restaurants, fuckers!  you’ll fucking live to regret it!!”

“Dinnae ye thrrre’n me boyz, Rrrrron’.  Orrrr ye’ll halfta deeeel wit’ me.  An trrrrooost me, ye dinnae wan’ tu

dooo tha’.”

“Rubble, rubble.”

 

            George and Mary were two very peaceful people.  They lived their lives, they worked at their jobs and

raised their children.  Not many things out of the ordinary happened to them.  They never fought with anybody either at work or in their neighborhood.  The folks who knew them, always said “Mary and George are two great people, couldn’t ask for a friendlier couple.”  Their kids were also very well liked, Jimmy and Suzy were what some would say ‘model’ kids.  They were always polite and respectful of others and their parents.  They got good grades in school and went to church with their parents ever Sunday. This was the family of all families.  Young couples just starting out together, only wished to have a family such as George and Mary’s.  Kids who didn’t talk back, who always did their chores and went to bed on time without argument.  One could say that the family might almost be perfection personified. Everyone and their grandmother loved “The Finkel’s”.

 

            “Where the fuck have you been, McDonald?! We’ve been waiting for you!”

“I was out! I don’t have to explain my whereabouts to you Rheeta.  I can still come and go as I wish.  I do own this University you know.  Or have you forgotten?!”

“No, I haven’t forgotten.  That’s why were going to blow it to bits as soon as we’re through with it!  You can go and suck your Weaselsy dicks elsewhere.  Oh by the way, speaking of weaselss, Warner is in the back room and desperately wants to talk to you.”

“Which room?”

“That room over there with the red handle, the store room.”

“You stupid brainless waif! That’s the walk-in freezer, not the store room.”

“Well I don’t know.  Warner said he was going to go in there and wait for you.  He asked me personally to inform you that he was in there, and that it was urgent for him to speak with you.  Fuck if I know why he wanted to wait in the freezer for you.  Maybe, he thought it would be fun if you warmed him up with your ‘BODY’.  Maybe his joints would be feeling a little ‘STIFF’.  How the fuck should I know, Prick. Now go talk to him before he catches his ‘DEATH’ of cold.”

“All right, all right I’ll go see him.  Man, are you acting weird.  What are you up to?”

<CLICK><CREEEAAAAK>

“Warner, are you…OH MY GOD…YOU FUCKING BITCH…I’LL FUCKING WRING YOUR

<CLUB> 

UUUHGGGGGGG!”

“Good work Hannibal.  Now tie him up and put him in there with his former lover.  I guess he didn’t appreciate me skinning him and hanging him on the meat-hook by his dick. tsk tsk tsk.”

“You’re fucking sick Rheeta.  Clever, but sick.”

“Well thank you Hannibal.  That is the nicest non-sarcastic thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Can I eat his liver with some fava beans and a nice Quiante? ththththththtththth..”

“HANNIBAL!! SHUT THE FUCK UP!!”

“Mistress Rheeta, we’re ready to test our A.V. (Anti-Vegetarian) cannon.”

“Excellent Horacio!  At least some of us still have our minds on the war ahead.  Proceed Horacio.”

“Thank you mistress.  Well, we take our A.V. rocket here see, and place it in this doo-hickey thingy here and press this whatchamacalit here, adjust the whatzit, and then pull back on the thingamajig and it’s off.”

“Brilliant!  I think…where will it land?”

“Oh, right about in the center of town.”

 

            “Well, it’s about fucking time that you soft hearted fucks finish jerking yourselves off on the phone. 

We’ve been ready for hours.  Are we going already or not?!”

“Yeah, yeah Roger were just about ready, we just have to gather up all our gear and pack up the vehicles.  After those plant raids we are low on all sorts of ammo.  So just calm down and wait over there till we’re ready.  Just because you guys pissed off your family and girlfriends doesn’t mean we have to too, ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, Larr’ whatever you say.  Just hurry it up ok?  We’re getting real antsy.”

 

            (unnnggg…ooo my head.  that bitch Rheeta double crossed me.  now she’s got me tied and gagged in the freezer  with a gutted, skinless weasels corpse.  Yeeech, poor Warner probably never saw it comin’  that cunt systematically sent all the weaselss to their deaths in one way or another.  either by assigning them to patrol at night alone in heavily vegetarian populated sectors of the city, or by sending them on obviously suicidal missions against all odds of winning.  clit for brains, bitch.  I’m responsible for all these weasels deaths, I’m the one who called Rheeta and her Gestapo clan in to join the fun.  I’m in over my head on this one.  but I will admit, that with her in charge that pesky chicken and lizard will be toast before long, of that I’m pretty sure.)

 

            “The Finkel’s” never knew what hit them.  As was usually the case on Sunday afternoon after church, the whole family was gathered in the kitchen playing a game of Trivial Pursuit<TM> when the bomb crashed through their living room ceiling.  The blast was so fantastic that it took out the whole block. George and Mary, Suzy and Jimmy were obliterated in a single instant.  The heat from the explosion, so devastating as to melt the corpses to nothing more than puddles of smoldering goo on the rubble that was their two bedroom suburban bungalow.  The family of all families had just been liquefied by an anonymous assailant, who, without care or remorse for anything or anyone, blindly fired a lethal bomb into the air not giving a damn where it landed. The family of perfection personified had just been destroyed.  Rheeta would have been pleased.

 

            The “freedom fighters” as Marc had dubbed them, pretty damned cool by the way, decided to sleep at

Tim’s through the night and regain their strength.  Much to Roger’s and the rats’ chagrin, however, who were really hoping to get on the road that very night.  But the others convinced them that it was better to get a good night’s sleep and ride first thing in the morning, seeing as it was a good six hour drive up to the B.U. and it would not be very wise to begin a war after being exhausted from six fucking hours of driving.  Roger and his gang, not being very stupid, agreed that this was the best course of action.  Some of the gang members were crashed on the living room floor in their sleeping bags and whispering to each other.

 

            “You know what I can’t figure out is where the fuck are all the cops with all this hit goin’ down?  I mean, shit, with all the restaurants gettin’ totaled by Charly and the Weaselss and foxes tearing up the whole city.  You’d think some kinda law enforcement officials would get involved.  We’ve just seen the token cop responding to calls here and there but, fuck the city is at fucking war.  Don’t they care?”

“No they don’t care.  Because most of them are involved more than you know.  They’ve been bought by either

Rheeta of Ronny, if ya catch my drift.”

“Really? oh fuck!”

“Yeah, they don’t get involved more than they have to.  Oh sure they respond to fires and complaints of disturbing the peace and gun fire, but that is just so the general public will not catch on that something weird is going on.”

“what do you think, Freetos Breath?”

“I can’t get that stupid “Werewolves in London” song out of my fucking head.  Why does Tim have it as his

fucking doorbell anyway, he ain’t no werewolf.”

“Ssshhhh, not so loud.  The rest of us are whispering, why do you have to be so damned loud.”

“I don’t know, I’m sorry.”

“Hey it’s okay, were all pretty edgy.  now let’s get some shut eye, it’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”

“Dum-dum…dum-dum..aaaaoooo…werewolves in London…”

“SHHHHHHH”

“Sorry…”

 

            As the city slept, one member of the Farmtown populace was very much awake, and very busy indeed.  Selena, was once again in her sacred circle and chanting the ancient rites of her ancestors.  With her crystal ball, or as she would say, Krrrrestel bool, she began scrying into what the future held for the citizens of Farmtown, especially Larry and Chucky and their band of freedom fighters.  However, despite her uncanny and amazingly powerful skills in divination, due to the fucked up, twisted, and psychotic, convoluted and haphazard way the co-authors wrote, all she could see was Larry and Chucky walking off into the sunset in search of new and different adventures.  Well at least she knew that Larry and Chucky survived, but then again this wouldn’t be called “The fucked up, twisted, psychotic adventures of Chucky and Larry” if they were to meet a brutal and gory death at the orgasmic , monumentally, cataclysmic, ultimate confrontational conclusion of this epic tale of blood, guts, sex, masturbation, liberty, anarchy, justice, perversion, cannibalism, vegetarianism, car chases, mayhem murd…BREATHE!MARK!BREATHE! anyway  you get the picture dontcha?

 

            After one fucking hell of a great night’s sleep we all scarffed down one huge motherfucking power

breakfast.  Tim led us in a thirty minute calisthenics workout to get the adrenaline levels flowing and Charly and I laid out the battle formations.  The ultimate plan was to lob in a few grenade from a distance to breach the perimeter, and hopefully thin them out a bit.  We had got word from Selena that they freed a bunch of lions and hyenas, that explained the hyenas from the other day, from the zoo and along with the weaselss and foxes this was the extent of their army.  There was a good sixty to seventy of them.  Fuck it’s nice to have a clairvoyant on our side.  We knew that we were way out gunned in raw numbers but in spirit and determination, and gut rage we had them beat hands down.  We had to hit them hard and fast before they really had time to react to the assault. 

 

However, we knew that they were very well supplied by Rheeta and Ronald McFucking Donald that we had a

contingency plan, which essentially meant, every man for himself.  If we found that they, were too heavily manned or too well guarded then we all agreed to split into individual units.  Each of us would fight for ourselves but not let any of the others get butchered if he saw one of our own in trouble.  If we felt that the fight was going their way then the mutually agreed upon course of action was to go out with guns blazing, or in my case swords a slashing. 

 

Which brings me to a fear that I’ve had for a long time coming.  I am shitless with a gun.  I’ve been trained in

martial arts and hand to hand combat.  Oh, sure I’ve got shurikens and throwing knives but it sure the fuck doesn’t compare to Uzis and rocket launchers.  So essentially I’ve gotta keep my sorry ass as low as fucking possible  just long enough to get inside.  Then I can do some serious damage.  If all goes according to planned, everyone has agreed to let Charly take out Rheeta and I vowed to my buddy that I would not let that walking bag o’ puke McDonald live to see another hamburger.  But knowing those two, this strike will be anything but routine.

 

Anyhow, the rats have fired up their Harleys and Tim just signaled me to get my ass moving and in the

Lamborgini.  Charly actually caved in and let Frenchie come along.  I guess those tits can be quite convincing sometimes.  I hope for Chucky’s sake she makes it through ok.  I wouldn’t want her getting blasted full of fucking holes right in front of him.  He’d go ape-shit again and then I’ll have to try  catching up with him for one hundred fucking more pages.  Fuck!  Come on you guys you wouldn’t do that to me would ya?  Don’t answer that.

 

            {“What a wonderful day for an exorcism.”

“You’d like that?”

“Intensely.”

“But wouldn’t that drive you out of Regan?”

“It would bring us together.”

“You and Regan?”

“You and us”}

“Hannibal turn that stupid movie off.  Judgment day is at hand.  The day that we have all been waiting for is here.”

“But, ‘The Exorcist’ is a brilliant movie, you shut it off just at my favorite part.”

“So fucking what.  Get your knife and be ready. I want you to take out that bastard lizard that sliced off my breast.  I want you to maim him just enough to disable his movement, so I can exact my revenge on him.  Nice and slowly, and painfully.”

“YOU SUNK MY BATTLESHIP!!!”

“Oh for fuck sake Hannibal, can’t you be serious for two seconds?!”

“Yes, I can.  I just choose not to, that’s all.  Tha…tha…that’s all folks.”

“You really are an idiot, you know?”

“Sticks and stones may break my bones…”

“Shut up! Please!  Now get ready, and if I see you turn that movie back on…”

“Yes, mistress Rheeta, Hannibal ‘The Cannibal” Gibbon, reporting for duty ma’am!”

“Why me? Whyyyyyyy me?”

“Why?  ‘Cause we like you.”

“HANNIBAL!!!!!”

“Sorry Mistress.  Seriously, I’m ready to get that lizard for you.”

“Thank you”

“‘SARIGHT!”

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Categories: Uncategorized ·

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Posted on 20. Nov, 2008 ·Comments Off

After five fucking hours of arguing back and forth like morons, I finally managed to convince Larry and Chuck that hitting the source of Ronny’s supplies was the best fuckin’ target.  The farms where the cows and chickens grew up weren’t a good target…too many innocent victims to get in the fuckin’ way and make targets of themselves, and too many farms to hit for such a small number of freedom fighters that we had become.  The best target was the fuckin’ slaughterhouses where this story started in the first fuckin’ place.  Shit, but Larry and Charly had gone soft in the head if they’d forgotten so soon what brought them so far in the first place…the hatred of those killing fields where Ronny got the meat for his McMurder burger.  We rats have never forgotten, even though we weren’t really there at the beginning of the story…hell, we weren’t even a glimmer in Marc’s eye back then, but…FUCK!…we remembered the slaughter from the first time we read the script and agreed to join this revolution.  Hey! Don’t get me wrong, we rats do eat meat…just like those wolves do, and I’ve been known to enjoy a good steak, but the wholesale slaughter of cows and chickens like that, without legal representation or family therapy afterwards makes me want to fuckin’ hurl cookies.  What they did with the hooves and the heads…shit, even us sewer rats had pride, man!

 

            All of a sudden, they start packing their shit, checking the weapons, and getting all hyper, and shit!  Well, the rats and I got our shit together…we packed our Uzi’s, loaded extra clips, checked the dy-no-mite, and then…since the rest of the bunch were still getting their guns together, I re-dyed my hair a darker shade of red, and polished the spikes on my kick-boots.  An asshole like me had to fuckin’ look sharp, or motherfuckers would start takin’ advantage of my shit, and then poof, there went my rep’.  You can’t lose your rep’ amongst rats, man…your rep’ was all you had…that, and your fists.  That shit on the skidoos, man!  That was some good shit for our reps’, man, especially for Rikko…you ‘member on page 54 …the rat who popped a headstand backwards and slammed home a stick of TNT up some guy’s gorge…backwards!!!  Shit, what a fuckin’ stunt!  I wish’d I’d thought that shit up.  Fuck me!!  Fuckin’ up Ronny was good for our reps’ too.  Which was the reason we’d stuck around after being taken out of the limelight so many times by the likes of Larry and Chuck.  The babes that hung around this bunch weren’t too bad either.  Man, those were wanted dead or alive…especially that Scottish witch, and that little red-hooded chick that kept showing up at Tim’s shack.  Shit, but I should contact the manager of that motel to see if he could set me up with a tape of that babe in her little red outfit, and nothing else…maybe getting it from behind.  Ouch, but she was hot!

 

            Anyway…me and Rikki, and Reno and R…r..Shit man, do they all have to start with the letter R?  Hey, wait one Sesame fuckin’ street second…we’re punks.  We can have any fuckin’ names we want.  HaHa.  Me, Rikki, Stinky, Blowmonkey, Freetos Breath, and the rest of the Rats were on our bikes and popping wheelies while waiting for the rest of ‘em to get into their rides and hit the streets.  Charly and Larry popped into Tim’s (haha…poor fuck didn’t have a choice but follow the stupid First name/Last name alphabet game) Suburban, which was a hell of a lot better than having Larry ride behind you on a bike.  The guy was queer as shit!  He kept apologizing that his hand ‘slipped’ a bit too much before getting his hand off of my lap…only to fuckin do it again a while later.  How the fuck his hand kept slipping while grabbing onto ya that hard was beyond me.  The other thing was that dagger he kept wedged in the front of his pants.  That fucker kept digging into my back, and I told him so…but the fuck says that he can’t move it somewhere else.  FUCK!

 

            Anyways…squat happened on the way to the chop-shop.  No weaselss popping out of alleys, or from

behind cars, making themselves into fat, juicy targets for our nines <AUTHOR’S NOTE: That’s nine millimeter Uzis for the uninitiated> …no foxes with rocket launchers, no fuckin’ hyenas…squat!  When we got to the place, it looked calm enough, and there weren’t any guards on any towers.  Shit, man!  Wasn’t there going to be any defense on this attack?  Well, at least there’d be some at the place.  Running up to the place two-by-two commando style, we made good time to the back windows.  I took a peek inside, and sure enough, the place was still doing business.  There were a whole pile of dazed looking cows standing around all glassy-eyed.  There were guys in formerly-white aprons with big motherfuckin’ knives in their hands, and others with wicked looking hooks on the end of sticks, with what looked like pieces of cow hanging from the hooks just walking around like nothing.  I nearly hurled right there, but instead, I rolled my anger into a tight little ball and plugged the hole in my throat with that.  I wasn’t going to puke…I was going to kill me some motherfuckers…dead-like.  Giving some of the Rats, the Wolven, and Charly/Larry duo a few finger signs to go around the left side, I took the rest of the Rats to the entrance on the right.  Charly’d given me this one attack, considering I’d thought it up…how fuckin’ kind, and I was going to make this one smooth…like a knife across the throat.  They’d be waiting for my signal to hit their side. 

 

My signal, as it turned out, wasn’t what you’d see in any James Bond flick.  No fuckin’ arm waving…no whistling like some shrill local bird…nah, not me.  I shot through a lock on the door, kicked it in and started firing.  If others didn’t take THAT as a signal, they were denser than I fuckin’ thought.  My first shots went over the heads of the cows gathered there, and hit the asshole operating the head-chopping machine.  I waited a few seconds before hitting the machine itself, and put it to a stop.  While running towards the next target, I smiled as I saw the cleaver fuck get picked up, get his head cut off and shoved into a bag that said “Big Mac”, and his body thrown into the shredder.  Boy oh boy was someone going to get a fuckin’ surprise in their next Big Mac…”look ma! a gold tooth.” 

 

The machine ground to a quick halt when I popped a few more shots into it’s gears.  Woohoo!  Two points for our side!  The Rats and I were going in and out of crates, and taking the occasional shot at a tech’ walking around looking more dazed than the cows.  No fuckin’ opposition so far.  This was waaaay too easy.  To fuckin’ easy for my taste.  Where the fuck was Rheeta and her bunch?

 

            The next thing I knew, everyone was shouting “CLEAR!!” and rounding up the cows that hadn’t gotten killed yet.  We herded them out of the building, and the fresh air started getting to them all right, ’cause some of the fucks started taking out their cellular-phones and calling family, or better yet, their lawyers.  That’s when Larry surprised the bunch of us and started rolling out some fucking barrel from the back of the Suburban.  He rolled the fucker right into the building and up against the power plant. Then he fiddled with a few buttons.  The next thing I knew, he was running away from the place and shouting “GET AWAY FROM THE BUILDING…GET AWAY FROM THE BUILDING!” <KABOOM>  The fuckin’ barrel blew up and with it went the gas power plant. 

 

The whole fuckin’ place was on fire and going fast!

 

            That’s when Larry got all weird and shit.  He starts talking about how ‘beautiful’ the fire is, like we’re all sitting in front of some romantic fireplace or something, then he gets all bug eyed, mumbles something about needing to sharpen his knife, and leaps behind the truck.  The fuckin’ knife must’ve really needed sharpening, cause he stepped out from behind the truck all out of breath.  Weird fucker!  We left just as the taxis all those cows had called started arriving, and the first fire trucks showed up.  I wanted to shoot them…stop them from saving the place, but they were only doing their jobs, and there’s nothing wrong with being a fireman that a good blowjob wouldn’t cure.  We hit two more places just like that before the night was over.  It was the same shit both times.  Fast in, fast out…cows all over the fuckin’ place, firebomb going off…Larry sharpening his knife, and home again.  We hadn’t even hit any opposition other than techs’.  What was Rheeta up to that she’d take all of her forces away from the plants and the streets anyway?  This was really fucked, man!

 

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Categories: Uncategorized ·

Chapter Twenty-Six

Posted on 20. Nov, 2008 ·Comments Off

“Curses foiled again!!” Rheeta spat to herself as she drove away toward the Burger U.

 

            The ‘rebel’ forces against the McDonald ‘empire’ decided to retreat back to Tim’s cabin, seeing as it was the closest ‘safe’ zone within miles and miles ‘I can see for miiiles and miiiles and miiiiiles’

 

LARRY STOP SINGING!!!

 

It took no more than thirty minutes to get there from where they found themselves now.  As they pulled into the driveway Tim was noticeably upset by the sight of a little scooter parked in the drive.

 

“Why, why,why,why does she do this to me every fucking time?!  I told her to go home and that I would call her.  But noooo, she has to take it on herself to come over and wait for me.  Fucking cunt!!”

“Yeah, I’m sure you will be, Tim.”

“Shut the fuck up Larry!”

“Hahahahaha just buggin’ ya Tim.”

“Yeah, well don’t it’s like those miserable Psalms they’re so depressing.  Now knock it off!! I’m going to have to get rid of her yet again. Shit, is she going to be pissed!”

“Well, don’t get rid of her just yet let’s get a look at her first.”

“Rooooogerrrrrr,”

“Well…I haven’t had a good fuck in I can’t remember when, sooooo, if she’s a babe then let’s gang bang her and then tell her to hit the road.  Either that or let’s just plug her right now that way you won’t have to worry about her ever dropping by unexpected like, ya see, yeah that’s the ticket, we’ll kill her, yeah, no wait we’ll fuck her, then kill her, yeah, yeah that’s it.  Yeah and then and then we’ll, we’ll…”

“SNAP OUT OF IT ROG’!! YOU’RE DELIRIOUS!”

“oh, umm…uh…thanks guys.  So are we going to fuck her or kill her?”

“ROGER!!!”

“WHAT??!!”

 

            Red was naked as a fucking jaybird, as usual, and lying in bed.  It broke my heart to have to tell her to leave.  Fuck she was hot!  The Wolven and the rat gang were holding Roger back at the front door so that he couldn’t even sneak a peek at Red.  I really didn’t want to have to kill the poor fuck, but if he ever laid a hand on my bitch he would be in a serious shitload of trouble if ya catch my drift.  She was obviously pissed off but quickly got dressed and dashed out the back way.  I think she knew that this gig was big, way bigger than one night of wild, kinky, hot sex.  If we failed in stopping that homicidal demon in clown make up and painted smile, it could mean the death of millions of innocent victims including my buddies Larry and Charly.  No, this was a war I would not give up for anything, it was too important. Too much was at stake.  With Red safely gone we could bring Charly in and tend to his wounds and make sure Larry hadn’t suffered any either.  I debated whether or not to call that Scottish honey to see if she can use some of her hocus pocus crap to help speed up the healing process.  We didn’t have the luxury of a lot of fucking time on our hands and Charly’s wounds looked pretty fucking bad.  The poor bastard was barely conscious never mind coherent.  He was totally stripped of all and I mean all of his feathers and his skin, being extra sensitive, not ever being exposed to the air not to mention whips and chains and blowtorches and pliers, was severely cut and bruised and burned.  Fuck this shit!  I asked Larry if he had the number for that witch cat so as to call her and have her come over and help Charly out.  He turned twelve shades of red and said in a really weird squeaky voice, actually I thought it was one of the rats answering me, that he knew it by heart.  He wrote it down for me and picking up the phone I dialed Selena’s number.

 

            Ah woos set’n en me oofez ween th’ foon rrreng.  Ah pooshed me cheirrr o’errr to th’ screymmmen then’ an’enserrrd i’.  I’ woos Tem th’ temboorrrwooolff an’ hey need’d me h’lp.  Charrrrlay woos bedla h’rrrt an’ th’y woont’d mey ta goo o’errr an’ kest a hellin’ speel on ‘im tuu mekk ‘im weell eg’n soo th’y can rrreeezzuum th’rrr quest.  Sooo, beee’n a goood wetch lakk ah em, ah g’t en me jeyp wi’ me herrrbs ‘n’ athame in han’ ‘n’ sped oofta Tem’s keb’n oop nooorrrt’.

 

<TRANSLATION>

 

“I was sitting in my office when the phone rang.  I pushed my chair over to the screaming thing and answered it.  It was Tim the Timberwolf and he needed my help.  Charly was badly hurt and they wanted me to go over and cast a healing spell on him to make him well again so they can resume their quest.  So, being a good witch like I am, I got in my jeep, with my herbs and athame in hand, and sped off to Tim’s cabin up north.”

 

            “…does he make you perform fallatio Rheeta…”

“Shut the fuck up, Hannibal!  and stop trying to unnerve me with your stupid-dumb-ass recital of “Silence of the Lamb” quotes.  Stupid fucking primate.”

“Yesssssssssssssss, Rheetaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.”

“If you don’t behave I’ll return you, and only you, to the zoo!! Now fucking smarten up. The time is almost at

hand, here comes the boss.”

“Well, well Rheeta I AM impressed, you have assembled quite the little army here.  I am certain that we will be victorious in eliminating the Vegetarian element in Farmtown,  and just to make sure that you don’t fuck up again…”

<BLAM!!>

“Aaaarrgghhh! You fucking cunt you dare shoot ME in the foot??!! I’ve had it with you…”

<KLICK><KLACK><KLICK><KLICK><KLACK><CHOOK-CHAK><CHOOK-CHAK><KLICK><KLACK>

“Listen fucker! I have told you before you are only the ‘payer of bills’ in this party.  I own you!! If you so much as breathe I’ll have all my friends pull the trigger on all twenty of the guns that are pointing at your head right now. So don’t you fucking DARE draw a weapon on me AGAIN!! Now. drop your gun.  Drop it NOW!!”

“You will suffer for this bitch.  You one titted fucking freak.  You will suffer for this…”

“Save your fucking breath for your next weasels blow job Ronny.  I told you back on…on…page…shit way back on page fucking 38 that WE are in command now, you are but a mere tool to do with as I please.  So don’t bother to threaten me cause I’ll have your head on my dinner plate before you can even begin to scare me with your idle little threats.  So just run along and jerk yourself off in your little office…no wait, why don’t you kneel down and lick my boot?  Yeah, I think that would be appropriate, seeing as you work for me.”

“Drop dead slut!”

“Now now Ronny let’s not be a sore loser.  GET DOWN AND LICK MY FUCKING BOOT!!”

“I will never kneel before you! Fascist freaking cunt-bitch!!”

<STOMP!!><CRUNCH!!>

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH my fucking

foot!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Oh, did I step on the the same foot I just shot?  Gee whiz, Mr McDonald I’m sorry, but if you don’t obey me,

AND OBEY ME NOW!! Then I’ll have to do more to you than just that. Come, come now being on your knees is not such a bad thing for you, you spend most of your time on your cock-sucking knees.  Now DROP AND LICK MY BOOT BEFORE I LOSE MY FUCKING TEMPER AND REALLY DO SOMETHING YOU WILL REGRET!!! Hannibal, get over here and help ‘Mr’ McDonald onto his knees.”

“Yes Rheeta, anything you say Rheeta.”

“What the …get that thing away from me…ouch! Fuck! You’ll…fucking…pay…for…this…bitch…”

“Now…LICK MY BOOT!! Wait, wait I want you to lick this wolf shit of the bottom of the left one.”

“You…<SLURP>…will…<LICK><GAG> …suffer… <HUNNGGHH>”

“HAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAAHAH!!!!! I don’t think so prick!”

 

            Ah errriv’d too th’ keb’n en rekerrr’d taym.  Charrrlay woos en Tem’s be’rrrrrooom an’ ‘e dinnae loook

well.  ‘e woos complet’lay boold.  Nay a fath’rrr rrrimayn’d.  ‘e h’d therrrrd digrrrrreee berrrrns alll o’errrr ‘is

boody, an’ brrroozez all o’errr.  Bleddy welts an’ op’n wooonds abooond’d.   Ah ‘ed me werrrrk coot ooot ferrr may.

 

            Fuck what a major piece of tail this cat was.  Oh man if Red didn’t get me this hard.  Just to watch her walk was an orgasmic experience.  I couldn’t even imagine what getting under her kilt would be like.  WOW!  I wasn’t much of a believer in this magic stuff, but watching her in action was pretty damned impressive and somewhat convincing.  She did some weird thing with her knife and circled around the bed while pointing it down at the ground.  She placed four candles one at each of the four directions around the bed.  Each was a different color, for what reason I can’t tell.  She recited some really fucked up words.  It must have been in Gaelic or something cause I didn’t understand one word.  She then took out some pouches of, what looked like herbs, and tossed some of it into a smoldering bowl she had placed on the night table earlier.  It billowed with smoke, almost filling the whole fucking room.  She placed the bowl up and waived it over Charly again with some fucked up lingo I didn’t understand.  Charly began to squirm in the bed as if he was actually feeling the smoke touch him.  Selena then rubbed her paws together and placed them on Charly’s chest.  She finally took out some black cloth out of her little bag and began wrapping Charly from head to toe in the cloth.  When she was done, she came out of the bedroom and closed the door behind her.  Goddamn what a fucking babe!  she glided over to us and said…

“Charrrrlay moost rrrrest ferrr a goood tweelve hooorz.  Aft’rrrr tha’ ‘e shoo’d bay gooood ez nooo.”

“Twelve fucking hours! You got to be fucking kidding!  At least three days for him to grow back some of his

feathers and regain enough strength for him to travel.  Twelve hours my ass!!!”

“Ye coolled mey an’ a’m tellin’ ye tweelve hoorz th’z i’.  Ef ye dinnae beeleve en me poow’rrr w’y ‘d ye cooll?”

“I was desperate okay?  Charly needed help, you’re the only one I could think of.”

“Weeel, then tweelve hooorz! Nay mooorrr! Heelloooo Larrrray, d’ye neeed me heelp?”

<GULP> “N…no…tha…thank you Selena.  I’m fine.”

“Ooookay.  Ye gooot me noomb’rrr ef’n ye neeed mey.”

“……’kay…”

 

            I fuckin’ couldn’t believe it.  Twelve fucking hours! Twelve fucking hours! The pussy was right! We slept the sleep of the dead for twelve hours, regaining much needed energy and strength.  We slept a steady twelve hours or more and we when we woke up who the fuck do you suppose was in the kitchen putting on the coffee for everyone?  Charly!!  The prick was walking around the kitchen making breakfast for all of us.  All, and I mean all, his fucking feathers had grown back and his burns were all but healed!  A-fucking-mazing!  I shook Larry awake, which is no easy task seeing as he went to bed with Prince Vallium and his squire Jack Daniel’s last night.  I finally roused the lush-lecherous-limp lizard and dragged him to the kitchen.  He did not seem as shocked as I was, then again, he had known Selena longer than I, so maybe he has seen first hand that the magic she practices really does work.  Anyway, I was impressed to say the least.  Larry and I woke all the others up and sat down to a nice breakfast and cup o’ java and went over the game plan for the day.

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