Post a response to this discussion thread
INT. GIANT LAGOON
A decrepit pirate ship, old and dusty, floats in the center of a murky lagoon. A number of waterfalls stream down into the black sludge. HAIRHEAD and SPEAKER4DATA suddenly blast out of one of the tunnels and tumble into the water. A few seconds later, NICK-THE-FRATELLI bursts out of another tube. He is quickly followed by LIQUID SUNSHINE, DARKER CONQUEROR, and X-MOUTH. Another waterfall promptly expells SLOTHROP and MR. CHUNKIFUL. Finally, E.T. THE RAPPIN' EXTRATERRESTRIAL comes out of the final waterfall.
Everybody stares at each other.
HH: What the hell is going on here?
SPEAKER4DATA: Seems like the author wants to wrap this fanfic up.
NICK: Pussy.
HH: What happened to Skilly?
E.T. the Rappin' Extraterrestrial takes a slow, contended drag off his cigarette.
E.T.: Ho couldn't handle the space dick. Word.
MR. CHUNKIFUL: Suuper-neato watterslide! Snapper! Ppppppp!
DARKER CONQUEROR: Yo mamma.
Everybody stares at each other for a long pause.
NICK: All right, there's too many goddamn characters here.
Nick whips out his pistol and shoots Darker Conqueror through the left eye.
DARKER CONQUEROR: Yo mamma . . .
He sinks beneath the water.
E.T.: Muthafucka bustin' a cap! Represent!
Nick continues to fire his pistol in every conceivable direction. Terrified, the others scatter in every conceivable direction. None of this is difficult, of course. At the moment, there aren't that many conceivable directions.
Everybody scatters, of course, except for Slothrop.
SLOTHROP: I say, this blatant disregard for personal safety might very well yield a disastrous outcome. Far be it for me to issue personal recriminations, yet I still feel obligated to mention the extreme duress that your actions . . .
NICK: Christ.
He blasts away at Slothrop. A bullet tears away Slothrop's lower jaw. His shredded tongue waggles comically in the gaping crater that used to be his face. Inexplicably, he is still alive.
SLOTHROP: I saaa, dhat's nhot vhewy pwopah . . .
Sensing a kindred spirit, Mr. Chunkiful instantly begins jabbering to his new friend.
MR. CHUNKIFUL: Suuper-cool neatto!
SLOTHROP: Sssuperr. . . cooool . . . neaato??
MR. CHUNKIFUL: Ssnapper?
SLOTHROP: Snappper!
Mr. Chunkiful claps his hands in delight. Nick rolls his eyes.
NICK: This is getting ridiculous.
Meanwhile, Hairhead and Speaker4data are slowly clambering up the side of the pirate ship.
HH: I get the feeling that not too many of us are gonna survive this thing.
SPEAKER4DATA: No kidding.
They board the pirate ship and look around apprehensively. Nick's gunshots echo throughout the cavern. A heavy layer of dust coats everything here--including the skeletons of hundreds of former Cranky posters.
HH: We've gotta find One-Eyed Cranky's body! Now, if I know this fanfic, we're probably going to have to navigate a number of fiendishly clever and potentially lethal booby traps in order to uncover his body . . .
SPEAKER4DATA: He's right here.
HH: Oh.
They head over to the skeleton. One-Eyed Cranky's skelaton is gigantic and, sure enough, there is only one large, gaping eye socket, directly in the center of his forehead. There is a small black box resting in his lap, full of buttons and levers. Red letters on the side of the box spell HANS.
HH: HANS, huh? Wonder what it does . . .
He picks up HANS and presses a few buttons. Instantly, a holographic bubble appears in the air in front of them. It displays every single living resident of Crankyland. They are talking, eating, sleeping, fucking, shitting, and arguing. There seems to be a lot more arguing than fucking going on, however.
SPEAKER4DATA: This is *nothing* like "The Goonies". . .
Hairhead nods.
HH: When good fanfics go bad.
The floating bubble displays various members of Crankyland:
Redundancies and the Redundant one, talking to each other. Shadow Emperor, telling them that they're both wrong.
Violet, standing on the corner selling bootlegged copies of "Willy Wonka", the uncut version where Gene Wilder accidentally slips up and says, "Where's that fucking PA with my fucking dope?" on camera.
Hazel, who, inexplicably, is a small, fluffy rabbit in this fanfic too. Eating grass or something. Whatever the hell rabbits do.
Alabaster, posting weird shit, and The Wreck, making fun of him for posting weird shit.
Mayorbob, cutting and pasting weird links. Grundle, cutting and pasting stupid links. Masked Loser, cutting slices of bacon and pasting them to his scrotum, then leaping into the dog kennel.
Bickle, lost in Europe with bleary, booze-soaked eyes and a gigantic stack of filthy pornography.
Hairhead and Speaker4data look at each other, thunderstruck.
HH: Do you realize what we could do with this?
SPEAKER4DATA: Sell it on Ebay?
HH: Yeah, probably. But first, we can eliminate whoever we want to from Crankyland! We can be God, only we can do it right this time!
SPEAKER4DATA: You mean by not fucking everything up?
HH: Exactly.
Clutching the side of the pirate ship and listening intently, Nick-the-Fratelli scowls darkly.
NICK: (softly) Don't count on it . . .
TO BE CONCLUDED . . .
--Slater
Post a response to this discussion thread