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Episode One:

The Stick-like Menace

INTRODUCTION

As everyone knows, the Kiwis pronounce some vowel sounds slightly peculiarly. This was clearly demonstrated in such classics as I Know What You Did Last Chronicles and The Chronicle of End Times. However, due to this story being set in New Zealand, to be able to capture the kiwi "eccent" it would be overwhelming to the reader. All kiwi characters are to be considered to have accents, except for Stix, and Kook, who are from Australia. Just imagine that the Kiwis pronounce words such as "that" like "thet" and "this" like "thus" and "fish and chips" like "firsh end chirps". Keep this in mind while reading. Enyway, wirthout further edo . . .

January 16, 2000, 4:20pm

Stix took the stage, glared at the audience, muttered a few words of disgust and said this:

"Mass termination means of infertile down syndrome lollipops. Went butterflies sometimes eggs furry dandilion castration cannon mule. Punch knuckle forbidden god fishy dandruff no kosher, says me."

He left the stage confident that this was enough to take him out of the running. He was a man with a beguiling and frightening personality. To look into his eyes would reveal nothing of his true nature. They seemed to reveal nothing but their colour, stating simply "We are blue". His hair was short and red/blonde, slightly curly, and he possessed a thin frame, a frozen mouth, which rarely smiled and had the main function of spitting out biting, witty and often very critical observations.

He was one of three candidates for the presidential elections. He had only come into the election a day before he made this, his final, speech. The other two candidates were rather shady characters. One was a Mormon (oops, sorry, a Latter Day Saint – as the Satan-worshippers like to be called now . . . oops. I swear that was a slip of the tongue!) and the other was the head of the PTA and an English teacher at a Wellington school.

Gerry Atrick was a very old man who was a member of the Church of the Latter Day Saints. He was a cruel old bastard who enjoyed beating people with his walking frame. Pam Johnson was a simple woman with simple ideas. She believed that all the problems of the world could be solved with cookies or the compulsory beating of children at 5pm everyday, as she had had bad experience with children in her life as a teacher.

This election would see the change that New Zealand was looking for. They would become a new nation of glory and honour. They would be taken more seriously. People would turn their heads and say, "Look it's New Zealand, what do you know?" and "Gee, they have come a long way" or "I can't remember ever seeing a good Pauly Shore movie".

January 17, 8:40pm

When the day of the polls came the voters were extremely decisive. The votes were mainly concentrated to one candidate's side. The first president of New Zealand was Stix!

His late entry in to the running had proven to be no disadvantage at all. Why had the people elected this man after he had only come into the public eye two days earlier?

Could it have been that despite his few policies, compared with the other two candidates he was the least likely to install child slavery into the public school system?

Was it because his campaign manager, Kook, had poisoned the country's water supplies, rendering them mentally unstable?

Or was it because the vote counters were terribly careless and decided that instead of counting 2 million votes, they would count just 12, leaving them time to have Chinese and drunkenly sing Karaoke?

Who knows!

Whatever the reason, New Zealand now had its first president. And he was ready for his acceptance speech.

President Stix took the stage. His gait told the audience that he was confident and his expression showed that he was not afraid to show emotion. The applause became frantic as he approached the podium. Once at the microphone he looked down at the audience.

"What are you doing?!" he asked sternly. The applause thundered. "I don't understand why you elected me! Stop clapping! You're idiots! I don't like you!" The audience showed their approval. "Stop it! What do you think you're doing?! You're not funny!" He glanced at his campaign manager, Kook. He had his thumbs raised, and an indecent smile spread dripping across his lips.

"I don't like speaking! I am going to stop talking now!" He turned away from the microphone briefly before returning. "Go home!" he said, flecks of saliva dotting the smooth wooden lectern, and left the stage, glaring back at the hysterical crowd, wishing painful death upon each of the people.

The applause and cheering increased to a tumultuous level. "Why are they clapping?!" President Stix asked Kook in passing.

"They like you sir!"

"I don't like them!"

"You don't have to sir," Kook said grinning evilly, rubbing his hands with obvious zeal. He had only met Stix three days ago, but that hadn't been enough to faze him. He had needed a candidate to win for him, and sure enough, Stix had pulled through. Kook raised an eyebrow at the new president, who paced before him, verbally abusing anyone who happened to be in earshot. "Do you think you are Turkish or something?!!?" Stix screamed. "Stop eating that Kebab!" Kook was a tall man, with short, brown hair, a wild gleam in his eyes and an almost indestructible smile. He was dressed smartly in a black suit, with a flashy red tie, little, green fish dotting it. He rubbed his hands together and commended himself for the brilliant campaign that he had produced in only a couple of days, cultivating an unknown man's personality into one of presidential material.

The two made their way behind the stage. Waiting for them was a group of bulbous beauties. "You're very attractive!" Stix said to one of them.

"He he he he," the girl giggled. "Oh, President Stix."

When Stix left his groupies, a lot more relaxed than before, he went to his office and met with Kook. Stix had no idea what he would do as president. Hopefully Kook would know which direction he should take the country.

Three days later, January 20, 3:20pm

"I propose we annex Australia," Kook said, grinning excessively.

"I don't like your plan!" Stix muttered.

"Well it's perfectly sound. It can't fail. Just think. Once we have control of Australia, we can move onto the pacific. All the islands including yFalminica and Kinfagl. And then we could grab Asia."

"I don't like Asia! Too much rice!"

"Well we could always get rid of that once we have control of it," Kook suggested.

"I am Australian, you are Australian. Why would we want to annex our own country?"

"Why not? Hitler did it."

"When did Hitler annex Australia?"

"He didn’t, he annexed Austria."

"See you don’t even know what you are talking about!" Stix declared.

"What I meant was it was his own country . . . Anyway when we take control we can kill the idiot who is running it and then run our empire from there." Kook paused, rearranging his expression into a meaningful glare, looking off into the distance. "Afterall, I don't much care for this sheep-lovers paradise."

"I don't like it!" Stix echoed. He curled the corner of his mouth up and stared at Kook.

"Yes, indeed. Anyway we have work to do!"

Kook made some mad sketches on a dog-eared, yellowing napkin. "How does this look?" he asked, presenting the napkin to Stix.

"I don't understand!" Stix declared, examining the sketches with shallow interest. "What does it mean?"

The napkin was scattered with stick figures. They assumed odd stances and had wicked faces which seemed to declare hatred for the world.

The first couple were holding guns. They shot stickmen in ties. Another danced crazily on top of the word Australia, which was oozing. Oozing what, Stix wasn't sure. The next illustration was of two men seizing the word 'Pacific' and was followed by one of two men clutching the word 'world'.

Stix pondered this and looked at the last picture. It seemed to be Kook in a strange position with a surprised-looking rodent.

Kook shrieked suddenly, tearing this illustration from the napkin, devouring it quickly. "You can forget that. It's not important."

Stix eyed him cautiously. "What is all this?"

"Well, isn't it obvious sir?" Kook questioned the president. "It's a little description of how we will take control of the world."

Stix held his mundane expression for a moment, before breaking it. "I will stop talking now!" he declared. He sat down calmly and glared at a vase of unsuspecting daisies.

"I'll come back later, shall I sir?" Kook said. There was no response. Kook retreated to the door and disappeared into the next room, leaving Stix to plot the imminent destruction of a vase full of innocent flowers.

January 23, 3:26pm

"I propose," Igor announced. "That we annex New Zealand." This statement was met by mixed reactions. Guru Al shifted his position in his cushioned seat, Nine Turning Mirrors yawned, Gamblor licked his lips, with something else evidently on his mind, Anvil-Falls-On-Coyote looked above his head nervously, Gorf whimpered and the TV repairman, who was still there for some inexplicable reason, let out another round of flatulence.

"Well?" Igor prodded. "What do you have to say to that?" All eyes fell on NTM.

"Oh! Just because I am the president, you expect me to make all the important decisions and take on all those rolls that a normal president does!"

"Yes, you freak!" Igor screamed. "It is my job as Marshall General to advise you what you should do. But that's all I can do. You have to make the final decision! How about you do your job?!"

There was silence but for the squeak of Al's chair as he swivelled excitedly. "Well you know what I think?" The TV repairman asked with a disturbing sincerity.

Al snapped his fingers and two muscular men with excessively large guns emerged from the shadows of the room, hurriedly ushered the repairman into the next room. After the door had been shut, gunfire could be heard. Al smiled to himself.

"What the hell can we do with New Zealand?" Gamblor inquired brashly. "There's nothing of value for us there. Just sheep and Geizers and people with creepy accents."

"Thereth altho thnow and volcanoeth," Gorf lisped proudly, receiving a solid beating from Gamblor.

"Well," Al considered, wiping specks of Gorf's blood from his shirt. "I've always wanted to give those kiwis a good whacking. It's immoral what they do with sheep."

"Thankyou for your support, Al," Igor smiled. "Not that you should be the judge of morality, having done brooms and all manors of inanimate objects."

"Listen bitch, you're getting on my nerves these days!" Al threw a pencil at Igor, she ducked and it instead became lodged in Gorf's eye, as he stood up.

"Ow!" Gorf wailed.

"Shutup!" NTM demanded. "I'm trying to think." He paced back and forth. "Well it has been a long time since we went on one of those strange, pointless, dangerous and erotic escapades. Life is starting to get dull. After all, when a man has the same mistresses day after day, he tends to get a bit bored with the whole routine of each day."

"Yeah!" Al concurred, gnawing on a chicken leg. "I need a break from the monotony of work. It's so hard being a . . . a . . . ah . . . what's my job again?"

"You were the senate, I think. No wait, that's me," Gamblor said.

"Yes, it's minister for sanitation and narcotics now isn't it?"

"Something like that," NTM said, his interest in the topic waning. "Let's go!"

"Where?" they all asked.

"We'll launch this freaking invasion shall we?"

"Sure!" Al chanted enthusiastiaclly. "But can we go for Chinese first? I have got a craving for sweet and sour pork!"

"Sure why not," the president said.

We return once more to our heroes . . .

"The navy is poised sir!" Kook spat ecstatically. "The army is ready to invade Australia." Stix sat up, realising that someone had disturbed the air of hostility that he had, over the past three minutes, crafted in the room by glaring at anything that appeared unlikely to retaliate. This is included the lounge suite, a grand piano, a jar of pickled onions and a caged parrot. Stix was presently regretting glaring at the parrot. He decided that it would surely hatch some evil plan of revenge. It just didn't look like a normal parrot. It seemed as if it . . .

"Sir?" Kook blurted with close-to-but-not-quite-sincere concern.

"What do you want Kook?" The President snapped.

"I just want to inform you that we are now ready to invade Australia. Our navy is in the harbour, ready to sail!"

Kook seemed genuine in his enthusiasm. So genuine in fact that Stix felt it could be an appropriate time for a smile. He extended the edges of his lips, painfully slowly. Halfway through, he abandoned the attempt and instead affected a good glare at Kook."What does the navy consist of again?" Stix asked.

"Ah, well." Kook paused, nervously rubbing the handle of his suitcase. "Well, actually we have . . . ah . . . two ah . . ."

"Ships?" Stix suggested.

"Ah . . . tugboats. And six . . . ah."

"Ships?" Stix persisted.

"No . . . er . . . ducks."

"Ducks?"

"Ducks, sir."

Stix considered this. Two tugboats and six ducks. As he thought about it there was a soft knock on the door. Kook went to answer it and returned with a small piece of paper in his hand.

"Ah . . . five . . . ducks, sir," Kook said softly.

"Five?"

"Yes, I just got a message that Donald, has . . . ah . . . passed on." Kook shuffled his feet anxiously, avoiding the rather effective and frightfully vindictive glare of Stix.

"Well," Stix began calmly. "What! The! Hell! Are! We! Going! To! Do! With! Two! Tugboats! And! Five! Ducks!?" He breathed deeply, hoping to frighten Kook into answering quickly. When no reply came he reloaded, ready for another burst. "The Australians will slaughter us! They have several warships! How are we meant to compete with that!?"

"Well, sir," Kook began bravely. "It's all to do with tactics." He waited for a few seconds, gauging the niceness of Stix' current glare. "We need good tactics and then we can easily beat them!"

Stix absorbed this latest information and decided that it wasn't to his satisfaction. "What kind of tactics do you have in mind?"

"Well, I think that we can lure them in with tugboats and then hit them with the missiles."

"Missiles?"

"Oh, did I neglect to mention the missiles, and the nuclear stockpile?"

"Yes. You didn't say anything about that before!" Stix found himself in a close-to-but-not-quite-happy mood. "Why haven't I heard about this before? Where are these weapons?"

Kook smiled malevolently. "These old weapons will bring us the world!"

Return to Index  or go to part:  2  3  4  5  Epilogue

Last updated: 02/07/00