Return to Index or go to part: 1 2 4 5 Epilogue
Episode Four:
Hooray for Larva Lamps!
"Alright Brian, work your magic!" Kook cried crazily.
Stix glared casually at the scene before him. The magnificent building stood before him, yFalminican troops lining the perimeter fence. "Get rid of them, Brian!" Stix yelled.
Brian closed his eyes, muttered a few words and a sudden explosion of screams erupted from the building. Men came running out yelling madly. Stix enthusiastically* picked up his binoculars and studied the scene. He saw droves of men exit the building, hands over their ears, some stopping to explain the disturbance to the troops who stood guard at the perimeter of the compound. In little more that two minutes, the screams ended, and there was a still, eerie silence wrapped around the Parliament House.
*As enthusiastic as this bitter, twisted man could do ANYTHING!
"Impressive," Stix said, nodding. "What did you do?"
"It is rather simple. I just placed a Mariah Carey concert that had been taking place in Rio in the centre courtyard of the Parliament House – enough to scare any real yFalminican. And to make sure they were all gone, I added a live performance by Hanson."
Stix shuddered. "Good work. But make sure that they are gone before we go in there!"
"Yes," Brian said, closing his eyes. "They are gone."
Stix triumphantly strutted down the hill towards the palace. At the main gate he found no one around. Close behind, Kook and Brian surveyed the area. Stix entered the compound, and soon was inside the building. He quickly strolled to the elevator and he, Kook and Uncle Brian were transported to Stix’s office.
In his office, Stix ordered Brian to sit in a chair that was situated in the centre of the room. "You will stay here! Remember, one phone call and your mother is dead. You better be here when I get back!"
Kook and Stix went to the door, before leaving Stix glanced menacingly and the odd parrot in the cage. There was something about that bird. He glared at it before closing the door behind him.
Brian looked around the room. Finally he glimpsed the parrot in the cage. He considered the bird with curiosity. What was it about it . . . something odd? "Ahuh!" Brian cheered. "A six foot tall bird, how extraordinary!"
yFalminica, 8:05pm . . .
In the twisted realm of Guru Al’s mind:
Al stepped through the door of the room, parting the red silk curtain. He entered and walked to the opposite wall, on which hung a mirror. He admired his large Afro and youthful, 17-year old looks, and then sat himself lazily on a beanbag. He nodded slowly to the ‘beat’ of the music. (Really it was just a collection of sounds with an increasingly vague rhythm).
A girl opened the curtain and peered carefully in. She was a very attractive – long red-brown hair, yellow/green eyes, small, soft facial features, small, thick red lips designed into an alluring smile. Al smiled in response. He adjusted his posture so that he was casually leaning against the wall. He looked at the girl, softly patted his right thigh suggestively.
The girl quickly came over and sat on Al’s lap sideways, wrapped her arms around his neck. "Oh Al, you’re so cool!"
"Lucy, I really dig ya baby!"
What ensued was a passionate display of what can be done if one is willing to endanger their tongue. It ended after a few minutes and Al adjusted his Afro. "Can you get me a drink please Al?"
"Sure baby!" Al said as Lucy slipped from his lap and he rolled from the beanbag and unsteadily walked to the door of the room. "What would you like?" he asked, turning.
"Surprise me!"
Al winked, pointed his finger at her and made a clicking sound. Lucy giggled inanely. He progressed quickly to the table at the end of the next room – which was much like the other one, soft red painted walls, mirror ball at centre ceiling, trippy music emanating from an undefined location. He fished in a large esky for a couple of drinks.
Al returned to the other room, danced ineptly as he strutted though the door. He walked through the curtains and in shock dropped the two cans of ginger ale. One began to fizz, a small hole on the bottom allowing the drink to escape, with many bubbles.
"Lucy!" He screamed. "Baby!? What are you doing?"
Lucy was now seated on the lap of Gregor Stix, kissing his cheek, after having, when Al had walked in, nibbled on his ear. "Shutup, Parker!" Stix yelled. "Get out of here!"
"I’m sorry Al, Greg is just so groovy. I really dug you for a while there. But I needed a change and . . ."
Al launched himself, fists first, at Gregor. Stix quickly sprang up, roughly displacing Lucy from his lap. "Don’t be stupid Parker! Go home, you’re an idiot!"
Al was ready to punch him in the face. Lucy stood there clinging to Gregor’s arm, rubbing his shoulder and pouting. "Sorry, The Stick is just so hip and all . . ." Lucy muttered. Her voice drained and the picture began to swirl, Al felt someone grabbing his shoulder and yelling something to him.
"Wake up, wake up!" Al bustled into consciousness and saw Igor in front of him, gripping his shoulder.
"OK, we have sixty three Molotov Cocktails!" Gamblor Silk said, noting it down on a small pad. "What exactly do we do with them?"
"Wh-what?" Al asked.
"Gees, get with the program Parker!" Gamblor said.
"Don’t call me Parker like that!" Al screamed and lunged at Gamblor.
Igor ran to hold Al back. "Al, stop it! What’s got into you?" Igor paused. "What am I doing? He was going to kill Gamblor. Proceed." Al gripped Gamblor’s neck and shook viciously.
"Stop it!" NTM commanded. "We have work to do! Now get the cocktails ready!"
"Somewhere along the line you found a kind of authority." Igor said, noting the quick movements of the people at NTM’s orders.
"Get to work Marshal General! We are at war!" NTM barked.
"Err . . ."
"Now!!"
"Yes . . . sir." Igor backed away slowly. This was new. NTM giving orders, and people listening.
Thirty of the molotov cocktails were to be thrown at the door. Thirty would be preserved for what ever further use they were required for.
"OK, make as much noise as possible!" NTM shouted.
The cellar was instantly filled the cacophonous babble of many captured yFalminicans. Shouting, yelling, plaintive wailing. Igor kicked Gamblor in the groin repeatedly. He let out a series of high-pitched yelps, which evinced true, ear-shattering, unbearable pain. The rest of the cellar grew silent as Gamblor continued his cry of agony. NTM had his ear to the door. When Gamblor’s cries died down he received a round of applause. Quickly NTM sprang from the door.
"Someone’s coming. Light them!"
Footsteps could be heard as the yFalminican’s raced to the other end of the long cellar. They heard the door being unbolted and when they saw it open they put upon it a barrage of Molotov cocktails that would have made the battle of the Somme look far more impressive . . .
When there were none left NTM stepped forward carefully. There was a cloud of smoke, which when it cleared, revealed a large hole in the wall and shattered door. NTM held another cocktail in his hand, a lighter in the other. He stood a metre from where the door was and listened. He heard a soft mumbling sound from hallway to the left. He listened a further moment and then lit the cocktail and tossed it in the to hallway and dived away. A loud explosion resulted and an impressive boom shook the foundations.
NTM again approached the door, listened for a minute and then stepped out the doorway. He paused there for a moment looking at something. He looked back to the others in the cellar, then to the hallway. "Err . . ." he began. "Is Gorf in there?"
Everyone looked around. They shook their heads. "This must be him then."
Anvil-Falls-On-Coyote stepped from the crowd. "Indian summer cyan."
"Ah . . ." NTM murmured. "Gorf?"
The body stirred. The blackened face opened its eyes and mumbled at NTM. "Little help." Gorf said quietly. NTM called the others and they carried Gorf into the cellar.
"We have to get out of here now!" Igor said. NTM hastily agreed and the large group ran quickly down the right passage from the cellar and up the stairs, to the exit on the outside. It was pouring down with rain, and the ground sank beneath their feet, mud clinging anxiously to their shoes.
"Why is it in any escape there has to be a downpour of rain?" Igor asked.
"We can go to my Pad!" Gamblor suggested. "It’s the closest! And perhaps I can seduce one of these attractive young women!" He looked around. Everyone seemed to be looking at him. "I said that aloud didn’t I?" Most nodded. Damn it Silky! He thought to himself. Go and ruin all your chances again!
They quickly ran across the gardens, and escaped through a flimsily repaired section of the fence. In ten minutes they were at Gamblor’s ‘Pad’, bathing Gorf’s wounds, and plotting to rid the world of all Kiwis.
"The Palace is still held by the Kiwis though!" Al cried.
"No . . ." Gorf said almost inaudibly. "I . . . killed them."
"What?" Al asked.
Gorf carefully, ad nauseum, relayed the tale of his mighty escapade.
"So," Gamblor assessed cynically. "You are saying that while we were preparing the cocktails you dug that hole, went through, killed all of the Kiwis and came back to free us?"
"Yeth!"
"Bullshit!"
"I told Anvil-Fallth-On-Coyote to tell you where I wath going. Didn’t he tell you?"
They all turned to Anvil-Falls-On-Coyote. "He probably did," Al suggested. "No one can understand a freaking word he says!"
"Bognor Regis, titan Tammy Wynette," Anvil-Falls-On-Coyote said spitefully.
"Yeah . . .?!?" Al said, puffing his chest up. "You wanna go?"
"Knock it off!" Igor ordered. "Well done Gorf," she added. "Someone with initiative – a very rare thing here it seems."
"Thankth!"
"So we are Kiwi-clean, then?" Gamblor asked.
"I s’pose, for now." NTM said.
"Well you can all rest well here. Nothing can penetrate the Pad. Although much gets penetrated in the Pad."
"Eww . . .! Stop! Enough! I won’t be able to sleep in here if I even think about that." Igor screamed.
"Err . . . sorry."
"I admit though," Igor said hesitantly. "You have a really nice place. In all these years, this is the first time I have been here!"
"Well I am rarely here myself. Usually just crash at the palace."
The room they were in was quite large, two dark green leather lounges on each side, two armchairs in between.
"There is hopefully no more Kiwis anywhere in yFalminica. I suppose we are all safe then." Gamblor said.
Suddenly the door burst open, slamming dramatically against the wall. There stood a six foot tall red and green Australian King Parrot, drenched by the rain.
"Argh!" everyone screamed.
"What the HELL is that?" Al inquired.
"Harvey?" Igor asked
"You have a six-foot tall parrot named Harvey?" Gamblor asked.
"No . . . it’s . . ." Igor walked to the door and embraced the bird, put her arm around it and encouraged it inside.
"No . . . not on that rug . . ." Gamblor said, scrambling to put a teatowel underneath the dripping bird.
"Everybody this is Harvey!" Igor said. The Bird then removed its head – or so it seemed – and it was revealed that in fact Harvey was simply a man in a bird suit.
"Another animal disguise . . . I don’t like those . . ." NTM sobbed, crouching behind the lounge.
"Harvey is our informant from NZ." There were a lot of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ throughout the crowded room of forty or so people. "What are you doing Harvey . . .?"
"I bring very important news!" Harvey breathed. Without the bird head he had light blonde hair, green eyes and a youthful face. "First of all . . . we were thrown from the Parliament House in NZ!" Everyone booed. "But graver still . . . it involves your father Al!"
"Err . . . what?" Al looked up suddenly, his interest suddenly piqued.
"Your father has belonged to the Abu Kandandi Devotion League for the past seven years, and he along with a Swirly the Re-nec and other members have handed over Uncle Brian to Gregor Stix!!"
There was no sound but for the ticking of a clock.
"What’s this canned peaches devotion League?" Al inquired. "And who the hell is Uncle Brian?!?!!?"
"The Abu Kandandi Devotion League was established to protect Abu Kandandi, who has been targeted by many satanic sects and radical religious groups – particularly the Catholic and Anglican churches - as she is an Indian woman of immense holy importance. You see . . . God and her had a little . . . well, you know . . . it resulted in an illegitimate son – Brian. He is affectionately referred to as Uncle Brian by the people of the League. He is semi-divine and accordingly very powerful. But now Gregor Stix has kidnapped Abu Kandandi, and is forcing Brian to aid him."
"What the hell?" Gamblor stammered. "So what’s this about canned peac. . .?"
Al quickly interrupted. "What does this have to do with my father?"
"Don’t you see?" Harvey asked. "Your father, Lem Parker, helped to hand over Brian to Gregor Stix, your enemy! He is aiding the enemy."
"What? Why?"
"Did you say Swirly the Re-Nec?" Igor asked.
"Yes. I don’t know who this is . . . do you know him?"
"Yes . . . from a long time ago. I wish he would decide whether he is ‘Necced’, ‘Unnecced’ or ‘Renecced’!" Igor shouted. "Must we always face the same villains!?"
"Why would my father do that?" Al mumbled. He began to shake violently. "Gregor Stix has crossed me for the last time!"
"That’s the spirit Guru," NTM encouraged Al. "OK so we have to get rid of that Gregor Stix. Then perhaps some sanity will be restored to the world."
"Must we invade again . . . the first time took a lot of planning and it failed!" Igor whined. "I don’t want to!" She stamped her feet defiantly.
"No . . ." NTM said. "I think we could organise war more efficiently and utilise it very quickly."
"How?" Igor queried.
"Remember they have Uncle Brian, he has God-like powers! I talked to him myself!" Harvey warned.
"Yes but we have something better! We’ll nuke them!"
In Gregor Stix’s office, February 1, 8:24am . . .
Uncle Brian sat as he had for the past twelve and a half hours. He had not stirred from the chair which he had been ordered into by Stix. After half a day of sitting his back ached and he was not entirely sure whether he still had buttocks. There was a weird and uncomfortable numbness where he hoped his butt still was.
He squinted at the empty birdcage. Hopefully that parrot, to whom he had relayed the whole story, would be able to aid the yFalminicans to enforce justice. If only his mind had not weakened over the previous years. He had seemingly no powers of suggestion any longer. He didn’t want to attempt any defiance of Stix’s instructions as he was uncertain whether he would be able to defeat him, before his mother would be hurt.
The door swung open with a plaintive squeal. In stepped Kook and Stix. Stix surveyed the room with a cynical glance, rested his eyes on Brian and then threw them wildly at the bird cage. "Gone, is it?" Stix asked resigned.
Brian shrugged.
"Never trusted that bird anyway!" He stepped to within a metre of Brian and maintained his mundane expression. "Now . . . it seems the stupid yFalminicans somehow managed to defeat the forces that I sent to their capital . . . I don’t understand how! They are all idiots!"
"From whence came your vendetta against the yFalminicans?" Brian inquired.
"It is all because of that idiot Al Parker. He never understood that he was a complete fool and that I deserved all the advantages that I had over him. I have always despised him, since school days. But more to the point, yFalminica just happens to be in a region which I plan to conquer first – the initial step in the process of taking over the world!" Stix boomed. "I didn’t count on this much trouble from them. I could have had all of Australasia by now if it wasn’t for them." He paused, fixed his eyes on those of Uncle Brian and rose the corners of his lips carefully. "I have nuclear weaponry, yes . . . but I do not wish to waste it on one insignificant island. So you, Brian will help me destroy yFalminica!"
"You are a psycho!" Brian shouted.
"I am going to leave now!" Stix announced and curtly strolled to the door. "Kook!" Kook snapped to attention, put down the long, thin, glass vase which he had been fondling. "Take him to the Helipad!"
"Yes Mr. President!" Kook yelped. Stix threw the door closed behind him. "Come on Brian, follow me!" Brian rose very slowly from his seat, patting his buttocks to encourage enhanced circulation, as he followed Kook from the room.
The Presidential Palace, yFalminica . . 9am
NTM, Al, Igor, Gamblor, Gorf, AFOC and the rest of the palace staff returned to the palace. Armed guards and tanks were on watch around the compound. "No one will attempt another attack like that, with this force!" Igor gloated. "And if they do, there is always me to stop them!" Igor flexed her muscles impressively.
"Thanks . . . Igor . . . err." NTM said. "Has a full nuclear attack been planned yet?"
"Yes!" Igor enthused. "The weaponry is prepared to destroy the Kiwis! They have no way of repelling our attack!"
"Excellent," NTM slivered, salivating wildly, rubbing his hands together with obvious zeal.
"Keep your pants on Nine-Boy!" Guru Al exclaimed.
"Yeah!" Gamblor chimed in.
"Hey!" Al complained. "This is my point!"
"Sorry . . ."
"Well . . . what I was saying is what if the Kiwis are planning the same thing?"
"They couldn’t be!" Igor blustered. "They don’t have any nuclear weapons."
"But they have Uncle Brian." Harvey uttered in grim tones, seemingly appearing from nowhere.
"Wh – what?" NTM stuttered. "Where the hell did you come from?"
"You must be cautious Igor, do not underestimate the power of the Beige side!"
"Beige . . . side?" Igor questioned, raising a hesitant eyebrow.
"Yes. The Abu Kandandi Devotion League and all other affiliates consider themselves to be represented by the colour Mauve. All that opposes them is considered to be Beige. Kind of like the Whites and Reds in Russia."
"Listen Harvey. You have done your job, now why don’t you go and have that paid vacation in the Bahamas and let us do our job. I think we know a little more about what is happening here than you!" Igor cried. "We are the politicians. We should know what is going on, yes?"
"But I have seen the power, I have witnessed what Uncle Brian can do!"
"Security!" Igor yelled. Two muscular men bustled through the double doors. "Take him away please. Put him in . . . I don’t know, lock him in Gorf’s room." She made a hurried motion and turned to stare out the window.
"My room?" Gorf queried.
Harvey was seized and the two men began to drag him away. "It’s for your own good Harvey. I am only doing this because I care about you and that. See ya!" Igor called through the door, turning from the window for a moment, before returning her gaze to the outside.
"But, you must understand, Uncle Brian, he is far too . . ."
The doors closed with the departure of Harvey and the guards. He could be heard bellowing as he was taken down the hall. "Well," NTM said. "Where were we?"
"We were about to eat weren’t we?" Al said.
"Probably." NTM agreed. NTM, Al, Igor, Gamblor, Gorf and Anvil-Falls-On-Coyote rose from their seats and left the room.
A minute passed. Suddenly the doors burst open and Igor ran through. She pressed a large red button on the phone hastily. "Captain Ryback?"
"Yes," a voice on the other side replied.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes!"
"Launch the attack!"
10am
"It is probably important that we be here, when the attack is launched," Igor explained.
"But I’m hungry now!" Al whined.
"Shutup!"
Al continued to grumble quietly as the six politicians sat in a small observation room, a window on one side overlooking an airfield filled with airforce aircraft. Behind them was another window, showing a large control room in which many men sat in front of computers wearing headphones and fiddling around with plugs in circuit switchboards.
"All systems go!" Colonel Ribeb yelled across the room to Steven Segal.
"Oh my God! It’s Steven Segal!" Al exclaimed excitedly, running to the glass and pressing his face against it.
"No, that’s just Captain Ryback." NTM explained.
Ryback turned around and looked up at them, raising both thumbs and grinning subtly. He then about-turned and started calling out orders across the room and pointing, all the while glancing back to see whether Igor was watching. He caught her glance and winked at her.
"Are you flirting with him Igor?" Al asked.
"No! What are you suggesting? It is a completely professional relationship."
The five male politicians nodded to themselves.
"Are mithileth being fired ath well?" Gorf asked.
"Yes, missiles, plus an air-raid. The bastards don’t stand a chance." Igor hooted.
"Now, far be it from me," Gamblor began, "to be the voice of reason. But isn’t this a tad bit rash? I mean, what is the world going to say? We aren’t really doing much for our already disreputable reputation!"
"For once you thay thomething thenthible!" Gorf lisped. "I agree with Thilky!"
"Shutup, Gorf! I can make my own argument." Gamblor raised his fist above Gorf’s head.
"Gamblor! Shutup and sit down!" NTM commanded.
"There it is again," Igor mentioned. "That new authority you seem to have acquired."
"Igor, sit!" NTM shouted. Igor did as commanded, cowering at Nine Turning Mirror’s booming voice
"Geeth! I wath jutht agreeing with you. I thought you would be glad, ath that doethn’t happen very often!" Gorf exclaimed. "You thould learn thome manners!"
"I’ll beat you good . . ."
"Gamblor . . . !" NTM growled. Gamblor sat still and switched into sulking mode.
Silence was maintained for the next few minutes before Al began to wail again. "Why is this taking so long, I thought it was ‘All systems go’ ages ago! I want to eat already."
Just as he said this, the voice of Captain Ryback could be heard.
"Launch air attack!" The sound of the aircrafts’ engines roaring on the field behind them could be heard. All in the small observation room spun around anxiously to see what was happening. The planes began to turn and enter the formation in which they would take off. Ryback began countdown. "Ten, nine . . ." They all turned back to watch Ryback count. And then, just to spoil the fun, and the childlike grin Guru Al presently had smeared over his face, a large boom could be heard that seemed to have originated in the foundations of the building. Accordingly a tremor shivered though the structure of the building and, turning to survey the airfield, Al witnessed a large tear appear in the tarmac, a red, thick, glowing substance gushing out rapidly. The tear began to widen and lengthen, advancing towards the building in which they stood.
"Ah, guys . . ." Al stammered. "What’s that?"
They spun around to see the ground split open, the rip extending towards the building. "It’s coming for us!" Gamblor screamed shrilly.
The building was now shaking wildly, chairs rocking, coffee cups smashing on the floor, photo frames falling from the walls. The six in the observation room were finding it hard to manage to walk. As the rip outside descended upon them, another one opened up on the floor inside and the same red, thick glowing liquid oozed out.
"Is this normal procedure?" Guru Al shouted at NTM above the rumble of the shaking building, attempting to steady himself by gripping tightly onto Gorf’s head.
"I don’t know," Nine Turning Mirrors blustered. "Ask her, she’s in charge here!" NTM pointed at Igor accusingly.
"Me?!?" Igor stammered. "You’re the freaking president!"
"Let’th not argue about thith!" Gorf suggested. "Let’th get out of here!"
"Good idea!" Gamblor agreed for once.
They began to stumble towards the door, the men in the control room behind frantically trying to escape, those on the other side of the rip, climbing out windows. Outside the building there were panicked individuals running in every direction, screaming. As the politicians reached the door of the observation room, they could hear Ryback yelling at a microphone, "Abort! Abort!" On the tarmac, the pilots and aircraft directors were running from their vehicles hurriedly. Planes were swollowed by the gap in the tarmac, which was now thirty metres wide.
Gamblor led the way, scrambling frantically away from the airfield, the ground shaking furiously beneath their feet. When they had distanced themselves from the airfield, by a kilometre, the ground trembling only slightly there, they looked back.
"F#$k!" Igor yelled.
The ground where the airfield had been was rising up and contorting, shaking violently. It was in the form now of a small, quivering mountain, with a large gash down one side, gushing . . .
"Is that larva?" NTM asked.
"Umm . . . yes, I think it is." Al said. "So, that would be a . . ."
"Hey! That wasn’t there before, was it?" Gamblor asked of the chain of hills, much like the one they had just escaped from, about two kilometres in the opposite direction.
"Volcanoeth!" Gorf exclaimed.
"What? I wasn’t aware that we had any in yFalminica!" Al said.
"Well, we do now." Igor uttered simply.
They were on a slight rise, and could see the palace from where they were. A gash in the ground was slowly advancing towards it. "No! F#$k it!" NTM cursed. "Not my palace!"
"Could thith be the work of Uncle Brian?" Gorf asked. "Harvey did thay he wath extremely powerful."
"Maybe . . ." Igor said weakly.
"Volcanoes? Is this the worst he can do? Ha ha ha ha!" NTM laughed madly. "It will take more than that to destroy yFalminica!"
"Err . . . Mr. President General, sorry to cramp your style, but look at that!" Guru Al yelled.
NTM spun around. "Argh!" he screamed, before collapsing.
"Oh dear." Igor said. "That’s all we need. The President General in a coma and a massive advancing enemy army."
On the plain, adjacent to where the airfield was, as Igor said, a massive Kiwi army was advancing. About twenty jeeps, five tanks and ten thousand soldiers.
"Igor??" Al asked.
Igor shook her head vigorously. "Uhuh! You’re the Vice President General, you do something!"
Al released an extended sigh. "OK. Gamblor, wake Nine Turning Mirrors up, he has some decisions to make."
Return to Index or go to part: 1 2 3 5 Epilogue
Last updated: 02/07/00