Welcome to the first exciting episode of...
Written and directed by Martin Scorsese
S T A R R I N G:
Bruce Willis .... as .... D.C. Warmington
Sean Connery .... as .... Old Knudsen
Johnny Depp .... as .... Morbid Misanthrope
and, of course
Brad Pitt .... as .... Captain Smack
Mr T . as . Xenu
Angelina Jolie . as . Space Girl #9
with special guest appearances by:
|John Travolta ..||as ..||Himself|
|Mutley the Dog||as ..||Lieutenant Klorgar|
|Adam West||as ..||Batman|
|Ben Afleck||as ..||Robin, the Boy Wonder|
Xenu stood at the control deck of the long, hard, silver spacecraft, one of his giant purple eyes surveying the Peruvian jungles below. He slammed a slimy, green tentacle down on the control panel and cursed. “Those goddamn freedom fighters! That D.C. Warmington and his band of super-cool Earth rebels have interfered with our sinister plot for the last time. We must find them... and destroy them!”
Just then, the groovy, science fiction-looking space-doors slid open and 1st Lt. Klorgar entered the control deck. “Sir, our high-tech, futuristic bio-sensors have just picked up a strong signal in the Northwestern quadrant of the mountain region. We think it's them, sir – the super-cool Earth rebels!”
“A strong signal? What kind of signal?” Xenu demanded, his slimy, green skin jiggling with anticipation.
“We believe it to be some type of unusually strong flatulence, sir.”
“Ah... that has to be Old Knudsen. His flatulence is legendary in this part of the galaxy. Well done, Lieutenant. Set the controls for the Northwestern quadrant, and activate our electro-shields at full strength. Just in case”
“In case they have weapons, sir?”
“No, you fool! In case the old man farts again. Remember last time? God, that was awful. It made my eyes water. All three of them!”
“Yes sir! Shields at full strength, sir!”
“Oh, and get me some space-coffee while you're at it. With cream and sugar. Not too much sugar, though. I'm watching my carbs. I'm on that new space-diet, you know.”
“Um, I'm afraid all we have is decaf, sir. We think the super-cool Earth rebels may have stolen our coffee supply.”
“Decaf???” Xenu slammed another green tentacle down hard, splattering little bits of slime onto the uniform of the Lieutenant. “THOSE DAMN EARTH REBELS MUST DIE!”
Morbid Misanthrope covered his face with a wet towel and tried to breath. “Holy hell, Knudsen - I told you not to eat all those baked beans. Are you trying to suffocate us?”
“Don't bother me now, lad, I'm working on me latest post. It's about the gheys.”
They sat near a small campfire, surrounded by three small tents. They had been camping for 3 days, waiting idly for battle. They were starting to get on each other's nerves. “Seriously, man” Morbid said “I haven't smelled anything this bad since I had to exhume that hippie from my backyard. And he smelled worse then than when I buried him.”
“Ah, yer just jealous of my manly aroma. My flatulence is legendary in this galaxy, y'know.”
“Yeah, sure. Next time I'll bring my gas mask. By the way, where the hell did Captain Smack go? He didn't wander off looking for magic mushrooms again, did he?”
“I think he was hungry. He said something about finding some wild jungle melons.”
Just then Captain Smack walked into the campsite carrying three brown melons in his arms. “Hey guys, look what I found. Cantaloupes! Man, I haven't had one of these in ages. The jungle ones are the best, too. All nice and brown...mmm. You want one, Morb?”
“I don't eat fruit. I only eat things with faces.”
“How about you, Knudsen?”
Knudsen didn't look up from his laptop. “I already had my breakfast, go ahead and eat it yourself.”
"Well, actually I was planning on sticking my--"
"Hey!" Morbid's head suddenly jerked up. “Do you guys hear something?”
They all stopped and cocked their heads, listening carefully. “I don't hear anything” Smack said.
“Me neither” said Knudsen.
“Exactly” said Morbid, his eyes narrowing. “The jungle is suddenly quite... too quiet... I have a feeling Xenu is in the area.”
“Man, I wish D.C. was here.” Smack said. “We could really use his help. Where the hell is he, anyway?”
“I don't know.” Morbid said, shrugging. “All I got was a text message. It said to meet him out here in the jungle.”
Knudsen said “He sent me an email saying the same thing. He said 'This time it ends'.”
“Yeah”, Smack said, “I got a post card, myself. It just had a map to this area and the words 'Xenu is back'. Why does D.C. have to be so damn mysterious all the time?”
“That's just his way”, Knudsen said, looking off into the distance and scratching his balls. “I suspect he knows what he's doing.”
The three super-cool heroes stopped talking then. There was a distant whirring sound from the east. Then another from the west, and another from the south. Soon the whirring sounds blended together into a loud drone coming from all directions. All three of the heroic freedom fighters knew that sound well. Old Knudsen shouted “The space-drones! Get yer weapons, lads. It's time to kick some extraterrestrial arse!”
They all ran to get their weapons. Old Knudsen's weapon of choice was an antique flame-thrower from WWII. “Lil' Sparky” he called it.
Morbid kept his special weapons in a large duffel bag – an assortment of machetes, kitchen knives, lawnmower blades, and, of course, his favorite implement of destruction: a wooden, blood-stained baseball bat with rusty nails and old razor blades sticking out of the end and sides, which he referred to as “Old Slugger”.
Captain Smack would normally use his long, sexy bull whip and his Cans O' Whupass for occasions such as this, but the goddamn airlines had lost his luggage again. Fucking TWA! It looked like he was going to have to use his sexy, bare hands. Well, it wouldn't be the first time.
A space-drone suddenly appeared. The drones were like flying robot-aliens that resembled large, floating jet skis with lazer blasters mounted on the sides. They moved through the air like sharks in the water. Some believed them to be just machines, while others contended that the drones were alive, that they somehow had souls. Nobody knew for sure, but one thing everyone could agree on: they were single-minded in their viciousness, and would fight to the death.
The drone stopped when it saw the small band of handsome rebels. It was about 500 feet away. Its headlights, which looked like evil, yellow eyes, suddenly narrowed, changing to red. It then spoke in a strange, other-worldly voice. “Resistance is futile. Prepare to be assimilated, cocksuckers.”
“Oh, is that right?” Morbid yelled back. “Prepare to be Morbified, biatch!” and he reached into his duffel bag and brought out an old lawn mower blade. He threw it with stupendously heroic force. The drone watched as the blade flew right past it and into the jungle.
“Nice throw, Nancy” the drone mocked. “If that's the best you can do, then this is going to be easier than I thought. And they told me you Earth rebels were tough. Ha!”. As he was saying this, the lawnmower blade curved back around, as if it were a boomerang. The drone did not see it coming up from behind. Morbid smiled and waved at the drone, mouthing the words “Bye bye.”
The drone sneered. “Bye bye? Why, are you going somewh--” and then the lawnmower blade struck the drone's primary power source, sending sparks everywhere. The deadly robot instantly shut down and dropped to the ground with a thud.
Just then, three more drones appeared. “Holy shit” one of them said. “the Earthlings just killed XCZ-13!” All three of the drones whipped around towards the three bad-ass heroes. Their headlights went dark red.
“XCZ-13 was my best friend” the first drone said. “This time... it's personal.”
“Yeah” said the second drone. “No more Mr. Nice Guy.”
The third drone was silent. The other two drones just hovered there, waiting. Finally they turned to the third drone. “well? Aren't you going to say something?”
“Oh! Sorry, yeah.” He then cleared his throat with a metallic gurgle and looked at the three Earth rebels and said “So tell me, punks... are ya feeling lucky? Huh? Are ya?”
“Good one” the first drone said.
“Thanks” said the third drone. “I liked yours too.”
“I dunno” said the second drone. “I'm not sure if that line is appropriate for this specific situation. That line is better suited for a one-on-one stand off. You know what I mean?”
The first drone rolled his headlights. “Why do you always have to be so critical? You're such a control freak sometimes.”
“I'm just saying, if you're going to use a classic line like that, then use it in the right situation. For example...”
As they argued over the third drone's choice of movie clichés, Morbid took stock of the situation. He knew that it would be difficult taking down three drones at once, and Captain Smack didn't even have his cans of Whupass with him. Then he noticed that Old Knudsen had disappeared. Where the hell was he? Probably in the goddamn tent, blogging again - and now these three drones where about to attack. God damn his obsessive blogging!
Morbid did not know that Old Knudsen had actually slipped unnoticed into the bushes and had made his way around behind the three drones. Crouching down, Knudsen gave his trusty flamethrower a few quick pumps, priming it. He then casually stepped out of the brush and aimed the flamethrower at the three bickering robots.
“Ah, no hard feelings, ya space cretins - let's be friends.” he said as they whipped around. “In fact, how about we all have a nice little barbecue?” Before the drones had a chance to make a move, they were engulfed in flames. The sticky fuel from the flamethrower covered them and they all shrieked loudly as they flew out of control. They exploded in the air, one by one.
“Ah well” Knudsen said, pulling out his laptop. “I guess not everyone likes barbecue after all. Which gives me an idea for another post.”
“Well, I'm glad that's over with” Captain Smack said. “Now then, where did I put that sweet jungle cantaloupe?”
“Not so fast, Cap'n”, Morbid said “One of the voices in my head is telling me that we're in great danger. What's that? Oh, I'm sorry, it said grave danger. Yeah? Well speak up next time, I can't hear you when you mumble. Hey, I didn't say to shout! Use your inside voice. Oh, no you don't! Don't you start singing that song! You know how much I hate Neil Diamond! You stop singing that right now, or I'll have Murderous Misanthrope do to you what he did to the neighbor's puppy, you whiny little...” he then stopped and looked up. “Holy shit!”
There were suddenly over a dozen drones, all around them. But these were not like the other drones. Besides being completely silent, these drones were sleek and black, with green headlights, red racing stripes, and totally killer looking spoilers on the back. It could only mean one thing...
“The 2008 models!” Knudsen yelled. “Dammit! I didn't think they were releasing the new drones until November!”
One of the drones fired its plasma-lazer blaster at Captain Smack, hitting him in the leg. He fell to the ground, cursing.
“Oh, I'm sorry” the drone said, feigning a bored yawn. “Did I accidentally hit your leg, Captain? My mistake. I was actually going for your balls.”
“Oh, great” Captain Smack said, rolling his eyes. “These drones are even bigger smart-asses than the older models.” He then ripped off a piece of his robe and wrapped it around his attractive thigh, like a tourniquet.
“I wouldn't bother with that, Smacko.” one of the drones said. “You aren't going to need any legs where you're going. In fact, I'd say all three of you meat puppets only have about 10 seconds to live. So. Any last words?”
The Captain started to say something very clever and witty, but his eyes started to water. “What the hell is that smell?”
Old Knudsen had been quietly farting the whole time. His flatulence filled the air like a warm, stinky, invisible cloud. The drones, however, didn't seem to notice. They must not have had any smell sensors installed... Knudsen whispered to the other two “Just follow my lead, lads.” He then spoke up to the drones “Well, I guess I have a few last words, if ya don't mind. Just three words, actually.”
“Yes? And what would they be?”
“Silent but deadly.”
He then dropped to the ground, as did Morbid and The Captain. He squeezed the handle of his flamethrower, and when he did, all that flatulence ignited, creating a magnificent fireball which shot up into the air. The drones scattered to get away, and when they did, the three manly rebels took off into the jungle.
“They're getting away!” the lead drone yelled. “That's it - let's finish these Earth monkeys off once and for all! Less talking... more KILLING!”
Old Knudsen found a small, murky pond to hide in. He laid down in the water and breathed through a hollow reed.
Morbid found a hollow tree and ducked into it. It wasn't the best hiding place, but it would have to do.
Captain Smack crouched down into some thick bushes. The drones were coming back now, frantically buzzing all around the area, looking for them. He watched as one of the drones slowly floated by, just past him. That was close. He suddenly realized, however, that he was not alone in the bushes. A giant anaconda was gently wrapping itself around his leg. Oh, great, he thought. Just what I fucking need.
Then he had an idea...
He grabbed the snake by its head. “I'm sorry to have to do this to you, buddy, but it's for a good cause.” He broke the snake's neck, killing it. He then grabbed a stone from the ground and threw it in the opposite direction of the nearby drone. The stone struck some bushes and the drone spun around. You could almost see it smile.
The Captain picked up a large rock with one hand and then grabbed the dead snake by the head with his other hand. As the drone sped by to investigate the sound it had heard, Smack jumped up out the bushes and snapped the snake's lifeless body like a bull whip, catching the drone by one of its lazer blasters. The Captain jerked up off of the ground and swung around, landing neatly on top of the drone, like he was riding a horse.
“Hey! Get off my back, you long haired freak!” the drone cried.
The Captain lifted the rock into the air and said “Sorry, R2D2, but I'm afraid it's your bedtime... so lights out!” and then he smashed the rock into each of the drone's headlights.
“I can't see, I can't see!” the drone screamed as it went out of control. Smack hopped off the drone and landed in a pile of moss just as the metallic death machine veered to the left, slamming into a tree. It exploded into a massive fireball. It screamed in agony, and then was quiet.
The Captain walked over to the burning wreckage. The glow from the fire lit up the highlights in his hair, making him even more attractive than usual. He noticed a utility hatch which must've come open during the crash. Inside was a fully loaded plasma-lazer blaster. He pulled it out of the hatch and smiled. “Well, well. I don't guess you'll be needing this anymore, will you?”
The drone was somehow still able to speak. “Up... your's... Earthling... cock... suckerrr...” it said, its voice now like a record playing at half speed. “You'll... be... sooorrrryyy...”
“Sure” Captain Smack said, pointing the plasma-lazer blaster at the drone's main power center. “Oh, and by the way - thanks for the ride.”
He blasted the drone into oblivion.
He heard another explosion nearby and heard Knudsen cry out “Got ya, ya little gurly machine!” The Captain ran over to where he was. Morbid came running also, carrying his duffel bag.
“Well, boys” Knudsen said, “no use hiding. It looks like we're just going to have to do it the hard way.” The other drones had heard the explosions and were on their way.
The first drone approached and shot at them. Morbid threw a knife at it, shattering one of its headlights. Captain Smack fired his plasma-lazer blaster knocking out the other headlight, sending it crashing into another drone. Smack and Morb were about to high-five each other, but then three more drones appeared. Knudsen got one with his flame thrower, while Smack knocked out another with 3 quick plasma blasts. Morbid threw two lawnmower blades at once, taking the third one out. He then announced “Shit - those were my last two blades. All I have left is Old Slugger. We may be in trouble, guys.”
As if to prove his point, six more drones appeared all at once. “This isn't good, boys” Knudsen said. “I'm almost out of gas. And I don't have much flamethrower fuel left either.”
“We're too heavily outnumbered!” The Captain said. “We can't do this without D.C. - we need some help, dammit! Where is he?”
Swinging his baseball bat at a drone with one hand, Morbid pulled his cell phone out of his pocket with the other and flipped it open. “Don't worry, guys - I know who to call.”
“Holy shit, Batman... this weed is fucking kicking my ass!”
“Yes, Boy Wonder, this is indeed some good shit...”
“True dat. It's the sticky icky. Man, I'm so high, it's like my head is ringing.”
“Me too, it's almost as if – hey, wait a minute! That's not your head ringing... that's the Bat Phone! Someone needs our help!”
They looked at each other a moment.
“Dude. Fuck that." Robin said, reaching for a bag of potato chips. "I'm, like, waaay too high to be crawling up buildings and shit. Let it go to voicemail.”
“Hmmm. Good point, my tightly-clad friend. Besides, it's probably just that Shelly chick wanting us to get her cat Fluffy down from a tree again. I tell ya... that girl's pussy ends up in the strangest places...”
“Right. That's what I'm saying. Fuck it. Besides, Desperate Housewives is on tonight. It's the season premier. We can't miss that."
"I think that's next week, actually. But, yeah, fuck it. Hey... I think this bowl's cached. Hand me the bag.”
“Sure, Bruce. Here ya go.”
“I told you, don't call me Bruce while I'm in my Bat Suit!”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry, Batman. Hey, since we're all decked out in our skin-tight hero costumes, do you want to... um, practice some of those, uh... wrestling moves?”
“You mean like the one where I grab you from behind and... ah, shit - the Bat Phone is ringing again! Just unplug the damn thing, will ya? It's starting to freak me out.”
“Fuck!” Morbid said, closing his phone. “No answer. They must be fighting crime or something.”
“Those ghey bat fuckers” Knudsen said, typing into his laptop furiously. He was now completely out of flamethrower fuel and was blogging about it. “They're probably doon each others bat caves right now I betcha. Looks like we're on our own, lads. Well, I guess it's a good day to die.”
Captain Smack blasted another drone, but each time he destroyed one, a new one seemed to pop out of nowhere. “Guys, I don't think I can hold them off much longer. I'm almost out of space-ammo. This might be your final post, Knudsen. Better make it a good one.”
“If we don't make it out of this one” Morbid said “then I just want to say that it's been an honor serving with you gentlemen.”
“Well, that's it.” Captain Smack said, throwing down his weapon. His face was covered in jungle dirt, yet he was still somehow sexy looking. “I just fired my last plasma-lazer cartridge. Only a miracle can save us now” he said, as a column of sweat ran down the tight muscles of his unusually well-defined pectoral region and then over his rock-solid abs, sparkling in the golden sunlight.
Drones began to gather around the three ass-kicking heroes, slowly circling them, like evil, metallic sharks of doominess. More drones arrived, and then more. Soon they were completly surrounded.
No help on the way.
And they were completely out of beer.
What will they do?
(if I ever get around to it, that is.)