Episode Three: Night of The Turnip

The Continuing Series of Bill the Semi-Heroic and Slightly Unethical

Bill is on the NRA's Most Uses and Abuses of The 2'nd Amendment list...

It was a bright and sunny afternoon. But it couldnt last for long. For in the deep recesses of the Alamukon Nuclear Power Plant at Alaska, Texas, there was a secret research project going on.

Bill was back to his old tricks of poisoning the town by flushing plutonium down Old Greenie, his favorite toilet. It occupied him for hours, as the plant was mostly automated. But then the general alarm sounded. A security breach was forming, and it would be Bill's job to stop it. As he reached his console he saw that a struggle had taken place. Bob the elderly security guard was hiding in the cabinet.

"What happened?"

"Giant potato. Secret experiment. Alcohol. Booze. Drugs."

"What was his name?"

"Potato"

"What was his name? Tell me"

"Potato."

Just rambling, thought Bill.

"Tell me the name of the potato."

"Potato. Mmmmm... Mr. Potato."

Mr. Potato. He's lost it, thought Bill. But he would take care of it. He reached inside and realised he had forgot his Uzi at home, for once.

Damnation all, thought Bill, Ill have to go home and get my Uzi.

As Bill got his Uzi, he heard a terrific crash. As he went to investigate, he heard an audible hiccup. Bill opened the door and found a '73 Buick parked in his kitchen. His first thought was: Those damn Californians have hit my house again. Ill have to poison them some more today. But as he got closer, he realised that the driver was in fact a giant potato. With arms. And legs. And eyes and a mouth with a whiskey bottle hanging from it. Jack Daniels it read, and that was the Crazy Man Whiskey. Bill knew from personal experience. He would put up with the potato for a night. Then he might shoot it. Or eat it. Bill liked potatoes.

"What's your name?"

"Aye, me name's Mr. PoeTaeToe the Drunk Potato Irishman Potato. Im permanently drunk, as you can see, and im sort of drunk right nowe, so Ill excuse and introduce myself. My.."

"I know who you are now. I would like to know why you're here."

"Im on a quest. to find the worlds largest turnip."

"Shouldnt you be looking in places beside my kitchen for that?"

"Aye, perhaps, but hes like me; an intelligent being. I have to catch him."

"Do you need help? I have many weap... er, tools, here."

"Nah, ah'll be fine. By the way, my name is Drunk Poetaetoe the drunk potato irish drunkman..."

He degenerated into blathering again. Bill left him alone for the night to get some sleep.

At 0115 hrs...

"COME HERE BILLY, AH FOUND OUR TURNIP!!!!!!!"

The drunk potato was holding a giant meat cleaver over Bills head, looking ready to swing.

"NNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!""""""""""""""""""

"Oh, sorry, youre not a turnip, never mind. My names are POtaToEa Irishman Drunk The potato."

"So I noticed. But I hear something outside! It may be that turnip!"

Bill reached for the special gun in his life, the Hunter DeMolecularizer Mark IV. Powered by an unlicensed (gasp!) nuclear accelerator, it packed a lethal punch. He used it for special occasions.

They slipped outside. They didnt see much, as it was dark. Then a roar, and Bills car went zooming down the highway.

"Laddie, hes stolen your car, im afraid. My name's Jack Daniels, and im a Crazy Man for stroking Whiskey."

Was it his imagination, or was the potato becoming more drunk by the hour?

"Lets take your car."

They pursued Bill's car nearly the whole way to the plant. Fortunately the turnip hadnt found any of the "special" accessories. Yet.

The trunk popped open and a landmine sprung out. Bill dodged that, as well as the insane lions, hedgehog tire spikes, and Molotov Cocktail Dispensers (Bills pride). They wouldnt be able to dodge the SSM (Surface to Surface Missle) rack that was extending quite so easily.

The missile hit the Buick and flipped it 983 times before it landed on its wheels, perfectly functioning. Much less could be said for Bill.

"Aye, that was a wild ride wasnt it Mr. Billie Jack Daniels?"

Bill could only respond with barfing.

They got to the plant, and as they passed the cafeteria, they saw lab technicians. Female. Bill walked up to one and tried to wake her up. Mr. Potato took her pulse.

“Aye, she’s dead Jim.”

“Ooohh.”

Bill was preparing to become intimate with the lady lab technician (who was dead) when the police arrived.

“You’re under arrest for rape of the dead.”

“NNNOOOOoooo…”

At the court, Bill was informed that to have sex with dead bodies was indeed illegal. He also learned a list of other things which were also illegal to do with dead bodies. He served 2 months in prison and paid a fine of $40,000. Mr. Potato was charged with picking his nose in public and paid a five-cent fine.

Finally they reached the plant. Bill still had his 'Hunter' with him. He charged it and readied himself.

"Are, uh, are turnips, eh, dangerous?"

"Aye, that they are. They can steal your whisky!"

"You go on first then."

Mr. Potato led the way through the plant, ending up at the secret lab beneath the plant. The turnip, who looked vaguely like Richard Simmons, turned around and shot Bill with a tranq dart. As Bill went down, he pulled the trigger, cutting Mr. Potato in two.

Bill woke up at the console, clutching his 'Hunter'. He found a note on the console. It read;

__________________________________________________________________________________

Dear Mr. Bill:

Thank you so much for leading my wife back here for me. You even (although accidentally) killed him, allowing me to be rid of a problem to the world and being able to collect insurance money to study better things than what I was. If ever you're in a jam and need help, remember this:

One Idol shall rule them all, as the opiate of the masses.

Who Controls the idol, controls the masses.

Control The masses, and you shall control the world.

World, World, I have thou.

Thou I command, and thou I control.

Worship Me as you would the Idol.

For I control the idol of them all.

I cannot explain as yet, but the time will come.

Best Regards:

A Friend In Deed

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bill was confused but felt that this was important. He spent his bathroom time committing it to memory, and later it might serve him well. He didnt know yet, but we shall find out later. But for now, on to:

Episode 4: Rocket In His Pocket