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Episode Five:
Doilies are a Girl's Best Friend
Igor and Gamblor lay NTM on the table as Al stood in a daze, eyebrow cocked. "What to do . . .? What do you do in a case like this?" The group of politicians had fled and were presently in NTM’s office in the palace. "Anyone got any ideas. Because I am all dry!"
Everyone shook their heads vigorously.
Suddenly Gamblor’s face lit up. "We could throw things at them. It worked on Insinceria!"
"I doubt they will fall for that trick again." Al said. "I say us six flee the country, leave behind all this trouble and make new lives for ourselves in Luxembourg."
"We can’t do that!" Igor chanted.
"Nilon basin grape routine." Anvil-Falls-On-Coyote agreed.
Igor shook her head. "How could you ever imagine doing that?!? This is our nation, mighty yFalminica, the country we have fought for and invested our lives in, the nation we believe in."
"Yeah but we could get killed." Al whined.
"Good point. I suppose we should get out of here!" Igor admitted.
"Wait! It is at this time that that time-travelling guy appears and saves us," Al said, "What was his name? Blinky! So all we have to do is sit here and he will show up and transport us to a necessary time from which we can prevent this ever happening."
They sat for three minutes. No one stirring, or saying a word. Abruptly, the palace shook violently. Al rose from his seat. "This is madness! He will never come back. We are doomed. The palace will sink into the earth."
"Why don’t we just send in our army?" NTM asked, stirring on the table.
"He’s awake!" Al shouted. "Oh, yes, yes, no more decisions for me! Woohoo! I am free, thank god almighty I am free at last."
"Hey," Igor said. "That is a crazy idea but it just might work."
"No!" Gorf cried. "What we need ith Uncle Brian. We have to get him off of them!"
"Yes, but how?!?" NTM spat.
"I thay we hold them off ath long ath we can until help from Inthintheria arrives and then we can make thome thronger tactical thtrikes, find out where Uncle Brian is, and free him. Then he can help uth!"
"Who asked for your opinion?" Gamblor questioned Gorf threateningly.
"Shutup Gamblor!" NTM and Igor shouted simultaneously.
"But . . ."
"That is an excellent idea, Gorf," Igor said.
"We’ll go with it!" NTM called.
"I have a better idea!" Al said. "We should free his mother!"
A turbulent wave of utter shock and disbelief struck the others. "Wait . . . Did Al just say something intelligent, something that is actually a worthy contribution?" Igor inquired.
"Oy! I always make worthy contrib . . ."
"I think so," Gamblor agreed.
"Parachute pea dispatch unit." Anvil-Falls-On-Coyote said in accordance.
"Well done ol’ boy!" Gamblor commended Al.
"So you think it is worth a try?"
"Absolutely. Let’s go see Harvey. Maybe he knows where Abu Kandandi is being held."
"Why should I tell you?!?" Harvey shouted uncooperatively. "Look how you’ve treated me!" Harvey was presently remarkably unbird-like. He was evidently tall and slim, his usually-neat hair had been tousled shamelessly by the rough guards, and the right sleeve of his black jacket torn. He possessed a reddened rectangular section of skin around his mouth where the gag tape had been relentlessly torn off.
"Come on Harvey, you know I had to do it! Don’t hold any grudges."
"I was telling you that you should beware Uncle Brian, and did you listen? No! You shut me up here and now you come to tell me what I already know."
"Well someone is a rather vindictive bitch!" Guru Al yelled.
"Katie Baldwin?" Igor asked.
"No," Al answered, "I was referring to Harvey."
"So you think this will save yFalminica?" Harvey asked.
"I don’t see why it would fail." Igor stated plainly.
"Well, and I do this only for yFalminica, not for you, if you must know, I heard it from Gregor Stix’s mouth myself, and I have learnt the location of Abu Kandandi!"
"Yes?"
"She is being held in northern New Zealand. In a small house that belongs to one Glenda Woolly."
"Excellent!" NTM cried. "Igor, arrange a campaign to hold off the Kiwis. Meanwhile, Al, Silky you are coming with me, to New Zealand."
"Aww, New Zealand? Do I have to?!" Al wailed.
"Fine you can stay here and defend the palace!"
"Well if I must go!" Al conceded, an image of a fiery and painful death being the fate that awaited him if he stayed, played on in his mind. "This won’t require disguising ourselves as sheep will it?"
"We’ll cross that bridge if we have to."
Guru Al and Gamblor grumbled. "Gorf," NTM said. "You aid Igor and AFOC. All you three have to do is delay the Kiwi’s advance. We shouldn’t be any longer than a few days. It depends on how long it takes me to tan."
"A few days?!!?" Igor spat.
"OK, as soon as we get Abu Kandandi, we will return! Gees! It should only be a day at the most."
Igor nodded solemnly and turned to her map on the corkboard and began applying red and blue pins. "Ith that a battle thtrategy?" Gorf inquired.
"No, I am just making a nice pattern, why?" Igor felt the eyes of the group in the room fall upon her. "Oh, yeah. S’pose I should plan something . . . could help the whole campaign."
"Could be wise!" NTM said. He turned to Al and Gamblor. "OK you two, let’s vamoose!" He saluted the remaining four as he, Guru Al and Gamblor left the room.
"May I be untied now?" Harvey asked Igor.
"I have known you other times when you were pretty happy to be in bondage . . ." Igor whispered in his ear as she loosened the knot on the rope.
"Igor . . . I hope you aren’t suggesting anything. I am a married man now!"
"Of course!" Igor laughed irritably. "Let’s plan this affair . . . err . . . I mean develop our strategies for attack on the Kiwis. Gorf! Get Ryback in here!"
Meanwhile, the Kiwi camp on the plain was a hive of activity . . .
At the fore of the newly-formed encampment, a line of tanks awaited any attempt by the yFalminicans to recapture their nation. At the centre of the site were seven rows of tents, each containing five tents. In the middle of this arrangement stood one large tent, which housed the President of New Zealand, his advisor and the recently-promoted head of the Kiwi army.
"Captain Twitchy!" Stix yelled.
"Errmm . . ." Twitchy responded, his attention automatically drawn back to Stix, as the president scowled at him. He put the statue of Joan of Ark back on the desk. "Yes?"
"You and your army will be assisted in all your movements by uncle Brian." Stix indicated the bare-chested middle-aged man, a dog collar and chain attaching him to an alarmingly large steel peg, securely fixed in the ground.
"Yes sir!" Twitchy chirped, his face breaking out into a short round of spasms. Flecks of saliva sprayed Kook and Stix.
Irritably, Stix fished a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face. "Your movements will be merely obligatory and will require little organisation. Most of the work will be left to him." Once again Stix pointed at Uncle Brian. "So don’t do anything stupid!" he added curtly.
"Certainly not sir!" Twitchy cried, his hand shaking wildly as he attempted a salute.
"Get out!" Stix yelled.
"Yes sir!" Twitchy left quickly.
"Kook, I think you have created a monster!" Stix cried.
"Sir?"
"With each success I just want more. I don’t think I will be satisfied with yFalminica. I must have the world."
"Yes, the world." Kook slithered quietly, drooling from the left corner of his mouth, the lip hanging down lazily.
"I don’t understand!" Stix spat. "How can these yFalminicans be so stupid?"
"Well, it certainly is a wonder, sir. But no matter, it only makes our job easier."
Stix glared at a mildew stain on the wall of the tent, muttering something inaudible. Abruptly he turned to Uncle Brian, eyes glaring widely. "Okay Brian let’s talk business!"
Northern New Zealand, 4pm . . .
The grass in the field reached a height sufficient enough to conceal the approach of . . . well, let’s say a small donkey. However, were a thirty-foot tall Giraffe to advance towards Glenda Woolly’s humble abode, as one did now, it would have stuck out like a leper in a Macdonald’s outlet.
Such a Giraffe was tentatively moving in the direction of the tiny pink house. When it reached a distance of fifty metres, anyone who happened to be peering out of a window in the house would have noticed that this was a giraffe unlike any other. In fact, this giraffe had wooden legs, a torso fashioned out of five 40-gallon drums and long neck that seemed to have been crafted from a few hundred toilet paper rolls, glued together. The body was enveloped by three shaggy leopard skin rugs. All in all, it appeared as though this was one giraffe that had seen rough times.
Suddenly it toppled over and its head fell off.
A mournful groan emanated from the belly of the beast, followed by a string of coarse words.
"Fuck!" someone cried within the giraffe. "Damn it to hell. I hate these stupid fucking excursions!"
Unexpectedly a small hatch opened on the left side of the Giraffe’s body, the side that was facing up. From it emerged the figures of Guru Al, Nine Turning Mirrors and Gamblor Silk. "Thanks, Mirrors, loving this trip already!" Gamblor yelled.
"Keep your voice down you dickhead!" NTM said. "There are armed guards in there!"
"Hey!" Al toned in. "Why didn’t we bring our own armed guards?"
"Damn it!" Gamblor said. "It’s just that camping trip all over again. Forgot the food, forgot the torch, didn’t bring any tents or sleeping bags . . ."
"I will kill you if you don’t shutup!" NTM warned. "It’s simple. We have our own weapons. We take out one guard at a time. We are in and out in two minutes!"
"Yeah sure it will work out that way!" Gamblor screamed. He received a sharp blow over the head from the handle of NTM’s pistol. NTM was already clad in attire that would make Rambo feel inadequate. He had two belts of ammunition, slung from each shoulder, a pistol in each holster on his hips and machine gun in his hands.
Gamblor and Al were similarly equipped. Al attached a row of hand grenades and tear gas canisters to his belt. "This oughta scare ‘em!" Al shrieked.
"Yeah don’t go crazy, Al. We don’t want to blow this chick up now!" Gamblor said.
"Hey, Al can look after himself. He is like a wanderer on the wind," Al said, recklessly speaking in the third person.
"I wasn’t talking about you!" Gamblor blustered. "I said that you will probably end up killing the woman we are trying to save."
"Don’t you worry about Al, the wind is his . . ."
"OK, let’s go!" NTM cheered.
"Err, strategy?" Gamblor inquired.
"Rather simple, I will take the front, you take the back Gamblor and Al, you will go through the window on the side that joins to the loungeroom. Actually, Al you are probably getting the easiest job!"
"And then?" Al queried.
"Just shoot whoever you see."
"Right!" Gamblor and Al said at once, and began to march off in the direction of the house.
"Except, except for Abu Kandandi and Glenda Woolly!"
"Oh yeah of course."
They began to crawl through the tall grass, curving their advance so that they would emerge from their cover, twenty metres at the left side of the house. Once they came out from the grass they ran to the wall of the house and paused with their backs against it. NTM indicated awkwardly that he would go around the front. He pointed around the back for Gamblor and gesticulated wildly at the window a metre towards the front of the house from where they were, through which Al would enter. Suddenly Gamblor and NTM scampered to their intended entry points.
Al stood motionless for a moment, unsure of how he was to get through the window quickly enough. By the time he clambered in a guard would be there to kill him! Never the less Al stood at the window, which was a metre and a half from the ground, and carefully opened the shutters that were on the outside. I can tell this is going to end in a mess, Al said to himself. He found that the curtains were closed and he began to slide the window open, holding his breath, terrified that it would creak. Amazingly little effort was needed.
Al looked around hurriedly, he glanced an old blue milk crate and fetched it quickly. Standing on this he was more easily able to peer through the curtains, finding no guards, and then climb through the window.
Nine Turning Mirrors simply opened the front door and the interior screen door, entered and walked up the hall quietly. He heard the soft chatter of someone beyond the door to the left. Noting this as being the door to the loungeroom, he proceeded down the hall. Don’t let anyone pop out of nowhere now, NTM thought. He was just able to see a gap inside the door that led into the kitchen, and noticed a shadow on the wall. In a swift motion he dived in front of the door and opened fire upon those within the room.
Minutes ago Gamblor had opened the back door that led into the laundry and scanned the remarkably dull interior. When satisfied that the home could not possibly contain any young, buxom beauties – this information gleaned from a quick examination of the washing in the drier and the underwear that clearly belonged to an elderly woman – he carefully opened the door that adjoined the house and walked in. There are never any attractive women on these assignments, Gamblor contemplated, well none that I ever get my hands on anyway. He had entered a small hall, the door to the right opened into a bathroom. When he was studying a tube of fungal cream with deep fascination, Gamblor was startlingly awoken by the sound of gunfire.
Nine Turning Mirrors fingered the trigger of his gun carefully. He surveyed the scene before him. It was a mess. What had he done!?!
Gamblor stormed into the hallway, caught sight of NTM. "Mirrors? What’s up?"
"I think I just killed a large birthday cake." A large cake had stood on the table, but now its creamy centre and pasty icing were spread across the table and the nearest wall. A small red sign lay in the debris on the floor. It seemed to say, ‘Happy Birthday Jackie’.
"Shit eh?" Gamblor said, joining NTM at the door way. "Hey what’s that noise?"
It seemed that within the loungeroom a struggle had developed.
NTM slid the door open an inch and was astonished with what he saw. "Good fucking lord, Al! You did this?"
"Way to go man!" Gamblor chimed in.
Guru Al lay in the centre of the floor, a large man had his hand around Al’s neck and a knife bearing down on his face. About the room were four bloody corpses.
"Shit! You know you’re stuff and that, eh?" Gamblor cried.
"Err . . . little help!" Al croaked. "Get this guy off me!" He screamed, when neither Gamblor nor NTM made any attempt to aid him.
NTM pulled out his pistol, shot the man in the back. He screamed loudly as Al pushed him off. Gamblor quickly finished him off with a shot to the head.
"‘Actually, Al you are probably getting the easiest job!’" Guru Al mimicked NTM’s earlier comment. "Do you know how hard this was?!?"
"Gees, calm down Parker!" Gamblor exclaimed.
"Calm down!??! Calm down!?!? I just got into this damn room when I saw this guy staring down at me. He was even taller than the last one. I quickly drew my pistol with the silencer and shot him, and did the same for the other three. By the time I got to this last one, my pistol was empty. I went to draw my other one, but he did the same. We stood there aiming at each other’s heads. ‘Truce?’ I suggested. He nodded, so I stupidly dropped my gun and he started firing at me, I dived out of the way, behind this chair. Luckily he had only two shots left, so I came flying out with my knife and thereupon a struggle commenced."
"Whoa, impressive!"
"He’s lying!" a plaintive, elderly voice called from the corner.
The three men turned their heads to the speaker. There sat Glenda Woolly and Abu Kandandi. "I killed them!" Glenda cried. "Just as that idiot fell through the window, the guards were distracted. I grabbed a pistol off one and shot four of them. The pistol was empty then. The only thing this fool did right was lunging at the last one with a knife. Why he didn’t shoot him I don’t know!!"
"Wha?" Al stammered.
"You didn’t use your gun?" NTM asked.
"It was a split second decision! What was I meant to do?"
"Use your gun!" NTM screamed. "Oh well. This is wholly amusing . . . but we should be getting back now." The President General turned to Abu Kandandi. "Come on, we have to rescue your son!"
The old woman grinned, clutching a pair of crocheting needles and a half-finished doily. NTM grabbed her arm to assist her to stand. "NO! She is staying here. You can’t make her leave!" Glenda cried. "She is quite happy sitting here with me, making doilies."
"Woman! Gregor Stix has her son, Uncle Brian captive. If he uses Brian’s powers he could take control of the world!"
"Gregor Stix?" Glenda asked. "I don’t like that man."
"Good. Now we have to take Mrs Kandandi with us!" NTM said.
"Well, I am coming too!" Glenda screamed.
Nine Turning Mirrors shook his head resignedly and sighed deeply.
The Presidential Palace, yFalminica City, 9:37pm . . .
A monstrous boom, which originated a mere few hundred metres away, shook the foundations of the already crumbling palace. "Igor!" Gorf screamed anxiously through the phone receiver. "I can’t hear you!"
"I said, we need backup! NOW!" Igor’s voice yelled back through the phone. "The Kiwis are running over us with tanks, Gorf! We just won’t be able to stand this much longer. And they haven’t even used Brian much yet. It is as if they are toying with us!"
"I am afraid that the reserveth have already been thent out. There ith nobody else to thend!"
"What!??!" Igor squealed. "What the hell am I meant to do then?! Mirrors better get back here quick smart." Igor hung the phone up and reluctantly stepped out of the tent. Before her sprawled a hugely impressive battlefield. The Kiwis held a sector of the city, a kilometre away, and were sending out small troops of soldiers to attack the yFalminicans, using shameless Guerrilla tactics, all the while aiming bombs at the enemy. "That’s it!" Igor yelled. She turned to a man that looked like Steven Segal. "Ryback! What are you doing?"
"lg?" Ryback stammered. "Nothing, why?"
"That’s the freaking point!" Igor shrieked, grabbing the man by the collar. "Get out there and send the tanks in!"
"OK," Ryback said resignedly and stomped off.
On the Kiwi side . . .
"I thought you were going to use Brian, sir!" Twitchy cried. "We are making progress out there, but there are a lot of men dying when all you need to do is make him destroy them all!"
"Shutup! I don’t like listening to you!" Stix cried defiantly. "I was just about to use Brian’s power. But I wished to make a point to the yFalminicans that we are more powerful than they think!" he waved at Twitchy to leave. "Get out!" Twitchy scowled at the President and left hurriedly.
"OK Brian. Try and be creative!" Stix said.
"What do you want of me?" Brian asked resentfully.
"How about a dragon?"
"I think that is beyond my powers to create something that has never existed. It would be an insult to my father as well – a tragic distortion of the beauty he created in this world!"
"Your father is dead! The book of Mike tells us so!"
"He shall return!" Brian shouted.
"Well, Brian, I want the yFalminicans weakened but not killed. I shall take them prisoner. How you do it is largely up to you!" Stix paused for a moment. "How about the dead rise and attack them!?"
"Lucifer!" Brian spat. "You are the devil, Sir!"
"Just do it cry baby!" Stix exploded.
Back at the palace . . .
Igor ran inside the palace, slamming the door behind her. "Let’s get the hell out of here!" she shouted at Gorf and AFOC.
"Clementine wedge!" Anvil-Falls-On-Coyote concurred.
"Are we to abandon our people, our nation? Are we to play Judath?" Gorf asked indignantly.
"Judith?" Igor asked. "Who the freaking hell is Judith?"
"Judath! The guy that betrayed Jethuth in the bible!"
"Oh! Judas! Well no, we will just be saving our arses. NTM should have been back by now!"
The door burst open. Through it stumbled three men, muddy, and breathing heavily. Igor grabbed a heavy book end from a nearby shelf and held it above her head ready to strike the nearest man. "It’th Nine Turning Mirrorth!" Gorf shouted.
"I know . . ." Igor said. "Where the hell have you guys been?"
"Do you know how much trouble we went to?" Gamblor retorted bitterly. "I even fell into a volcano when we were no more than hundred metres from the palace!" He shouted presenting his charred clothes as evidence.
"It was not the proverbial piece of cake, Igor!" Guru Al cried.
"Well where is the chick?" Igor asked.
"Chick?" NTM asked, just catching his breath.
"Chick?" Gamblor inquired, his interest suddenly piqued.
"Yeah, Abu Kandandi!"
"Oh," NTM said, "she is there." He pointed and two elderly women, one with short, curly, grey hair and thick glasses, the other of Indian appearance with long grey hair and wrinkled skin, entered the palace.
"Well . . ." Igor said. "Get her to her son or something."
There was a casual knock on the door. "I’ll get it!" Gamblor chirped. "Maybe it’s a chick . . ." he said under his breath. He opened the door.
"Gorf!" Gamblor said. "Gees, man, you really have buffed up haven’t you? And what happened to your eye?"
Before Gamblor stood a man that strongly resembled Gorf, but was much more muscular, had his eye missing, the lids sealed over, a scar on his left cheek and short dark slick hair.
"What?" Gorf said, emerging from behind Igor. "I am here . . ." he said before stopping aghast. "You!" he spat. "What are you doing here?"
The man at the door entered. "Hello Gorf, it’s been a long time," he said, a slight spasm slivering across the right side of his face, "you don’t look at all different."
"Twitchy! How dare you come in here like thith?!" Gorf said.
Igor, Gamblor, Al, NTM and AFOC looked from one man to the other. They were very alike. If Gorf had taken steroids and did he not possess the amazing ability to heal that he did, he would have looked more like the new arrival.
"Who is this?" NTM inquired.
"Thith? Thith ith my brother!" A gasp diffused through the room. "My brother who shamed my family over a millenium ago."
"Gees, get over it Gorf!" Al said.
"Please Gorf . . . I . . ." Twitchy stammered.
"And now you come crawling back? I know what you have been doing, brother, I know you are with the Kiwith now!" A further gasp rose up in the air.
"But, I have come to help. I know where Uncle Brian is!"
"Judath!"
"Judith?!" Twitchy asked.
"The guy who betrayed Jesus," Igor whispered.
"Oh . . ."
"How dare you?"
"You know where my son is?" Abu Kandandi said. Everyone looked at her, surprised by her first words.
"Yes," Twitchy said.
"Take us to him!" NTM demanded.
"I can’t do that. He is with the President in his tent."
"Well," Al said, "we need to get message to him that his mother is alive and safe with us!"
"I will tell him myself!" Twitchy said.
"Judath!" Gorf lisped violently. "We can’t trust him!"
"Well what the hell are we meant to do then?!" Gamblor asked, through his arms up wildly.
"Mentos the fresh maker™" AFOC said.
"I have it!" Guru Al cried. "Does anyone have a polaroid camera?"
"Oh, we’re playing this game again." Gamblor said, smiling lecherously. "I’m in!"
"No you dickhead!" Igor cursed. "Of course! I know what Al is on to!"
"Yes it is a brilliant idea, it can’t fail!" Al chimed.
"But Gorf," Igor said, "we will need you!"
Back in Stix’s tent, 9:45pm . . .
"Go ahead Brian!"
Brian stood at the door of the tent, the palace within his range of sight, about four kilometres away, the sky lit by exploding artillery. He closed his eyes, and hummed insanely until the ground behind the palace began to shake.
"What?" Gamblor cried. "Not again!"
The Palace was rocking wildly. "Is it another bomb?" Twitchy asked.
"No, perhaps it is the earth opening up again!" NTM screamed.
They stood on the spot, expecting something big and dreadful to happen. Twitchy’s face dissolved into uncontrollable spasms, while Gamblor clung cowardly onto a vase of flowers. Igor ran to the nearest window, gazing out with curiosity. "Aww, shit! That vase aint gonna save you now, Silky! I think the dead have risen, thirsting our blood!"
"Well, that’s not terribly surprising, considering the number of graves you have desecrated, Gamblor!" Guru Al commented.
"What are we going to do?" NTM wailed. He joined Igor at the window and watched as a dozen rotting corpses walked towards the palace.
"Crap, crap!" Igor cursed. "Just great that we happen to have a cemetery built around us. There will be no shortage of dead people!"
"There is no need for that language young lady!" Glenda yelled. "I will have you over my knee!"
Igor glared at the old woman.
"OK, I think it is time to run!" Gamblor screamed.
"Adrenoleukodystrophy!" AFOC shouted and they all ran through the back of the palace towards the kitchen.
Fred, the cook, was caught unawares. He replaced the lid on the sauce bottle and did up his pants. "Err, whats-a going on here?" he inquired.
"Run for your life, Fred!" Guru Al yelled. "But first, I am feeling a bit peckish, could you fix me up a nice stirfry?"
"Al, you can eat when the dead decide that they have no real grudge with us!" Igor shouted, grabbing the Guru by the collar as she ran past. "Come on Fred!" They exited the kitchen via the side door and ran down the side corridor.
"You know, there will probably be heaps of scary dead people ready to kill us when we go outside." Gamblor commented.
"Shutup!" NTM ordered. "That’s it," he puffed, his breathing accelerated by the run, "I hearby declare a . . . moratorium on negativity. Anyone who is negative in . . . anyway, risks getting their heads removed!"
Gamblor exhaled quickly. "Phew. I thought you were going to suggest that we get something . . . else chopped off then!"
"You can’t have . . . sex without your head, Gamblor." Igor said. "Millions have tried, all but one has failed!"
"Who . . . succeeded?" Gamblor asked, breathlessly.
"The headless horseman. And boy was he good . . ."
"Wait a minute . . . you are telling me that . . . that you had sex with the . . ." They came to a door and burst through. "Are you serious?"
"I never lie!" Igor said, surveying the area and quickly catching site of ten or so corpses heading their way. In the opposite direction, came another five or so.
"Al . . . do you still have those hand grenades?" Gamblor asked. "Blowing them up is probably the only way we can destroy them!"
"Umm . . . I left them inside."
"Crap!"
Meanwhile, in the middle of the battlefield . . .
Gorf crouched below a mangled park bench, lodged in a pile of soil. He took a few deep breaths and a swig from his canteen. "Thith ith madneth!" he said to himself. "I will never make it. It’th impothible!" He glanced out from behind the bench, spying the enemy encampment only a few hundred remaining metres. Suddenly he heard the whistle of a descending bomb. It landed within ten metres of him and sent a steel bar, from a distorted swingset, flying through the air toward him. It impaled him through the stomach.
"Ow." Gorf uttered. He grabbed the bar, which had gone through his body and emerged about a foot. He braced himself and slowly drew it out. "Argh!" he screamed in agony. "Thometimes I wish I wathn’t immortal!" he said, lying in pain when the job was done. He did up his jacket to conceal the wound and scampered around the other side of the bench and continued on his way.
"Get back!" Gamblor screamed, waving a stick in front of him. "Avaunt, hell hound!" The corpse lunged at him, grabbing his arm. Gamblor beat at it with the stick and the limb fell off.
The group was surrounded by fourteen animated cadavers. Abu Kandandi and Glenda stood in the centre of the group, sheltered by the others. Hospitality in this country is hardly an artform!" Glenda complained.
"Shutup old woman, shutup!" Al screamed.
Twitchy brought out his pistol and shot at them continually, a few limbs falling off, or half their head dissolving with each bullet. But it was not enough to keep them off.
NTM swung one of the disembodied legs at his attacker, which looked very much like his former secretary. "Hey!" he cried. "I gave you a payrise and this is how I get paid back?" The creature moaned.
Guru Al was in the process of warding off two assailants with an axe he had acquired from the garden shed. "Hey where did you get that?" Igor asked, kicking a dead man in a cheap suit in the head.
"The shed over there!" Al responded, lopping off the head of one of the approaching corpses. "Come on Gorf!" he shouted. "Hurry up!"
Gorf walked calmly through the camp, his left eye closed, a poorly drawn scar on his cheek. He paused outside the largest tent, looking around to see if anyone was watching and walked in.
Inside, he noticed Stix at a desk on the right, glaring at a patch of mildew on the wall, his assistant Kook lounging at the left, and Uncle Brian chained to a steel peg at the back. Gorf took a few tentative steps.
"Captain Twitchy?" Kook said.
"Err . . ." Gorf said anxiously. "I come to report the movement of the yFalminican line!" Gorf said, reciting the sentence he had practised earlier with Igor, who chose each word so that it did not contain an ‘S’ as to not give away his lisp.
"And?" Stix spat.
"Well, they are retreating rapidly. I thought you might like to hear it from me."
"Oh really!?" Kook said, rubbing his hands together gleefully.
"It can be made out from here, quite clearly." Gorf said. He noticed Stix was looking at him strangely and so he began to twitch his facial muscles and shake the right side of his body.
"I would like to see this!" Stix declared and marched out of the tent with Kook in close pursuit.
Gorf ran to Uncle Brian at the back of the tent, whipping out the polaroid of Abu Kandandi, smiling next to NTM, Guru Al, Igor and Gorf.
"They don’t look like they are retreating to me!" Stix yelled as he re-entered the tent. "I think rather they are staying put . . ." Stix was quickly grabbed by the neck by a twenty three foot version of Jake Lloyd. Kook was also captured and the young star of Star Wars, Episode One: The Phantom Menace, began to play toy soldiers with them.
"I don’t understand!" Stix yelled.
"Err . . ." Kook murmured.
Gorf laughed wickedly at the back of the tent. Uncle Brian stood, unchained, smiling subtly. "You hath been fooled, mithter Thtix!" Gorf exclaimed. "I am not the Captain Twitchy, but hith twin brother Gorf!"
"Oh . . . you!" Stix spat, Jake Lloyd replacing him in the position he was formerly.
"Stay there!" Jake commanded.
"Now, Uncle Brian, if you would kindly remove the corptheth that I thaw attacking my comradeth when I left."
"Certainly." Uncle Brian closed his eyes, hummed and uttered simply, "It is done!"
The corpses collapsed suddenly and Igor bowed elegantly, in martial arts style. "Good ol’ Gorf has saved the day again!" she said.
"Yes," Twitchy twitched, "my brother is very worthy of respect."
"My son has saved us," Abu said.
"Now let’s kick come kiwi butt!" Nine turning Mirrors yelled.
"Err . . . NTM, I don’t think there is any need!" Guru Al said.
"Why?"
"They seem to be retreating . . . no . . . they are all running in the opposite direction at least, lured it seems by a fish and chip shop!"
"Yes . . ." Harvey said, appearing from nowhere, "that would be Uncle Brian’s work!"
"Where the fuck have you been?" Gamblor inquired.
"I was in the bathroom."
"Mmm . . ." Gamblor nodded. "I’m sure you were."
Guru Al started to salivate wildly. "Excellent. I will be able to have my revenge on Gregor Stix!"
Captain Ryback approached, rather slowly. "Hey!" he called out. "Just wanted to know whether you want us to pursue them?"
"Well . . . no . . . but . . ." Mirrors said.
"Good . . . yawn, I think it’s time to go home! See yas!"
"Why didn’t you just call us on the walky talky?" Igor asked.
"It’s broken."
"No it’s not!"
"Yes it is," Ryback said, dropping it on a rock, "well I am going. Ciao!"
Just as he was leaving a large tent appeared in his path. From it stepped a vastly oversized replica of Jake Lloyd, clutching Stix and Kook, followed by Gorf and Uncle Brian.
"Ol’ Gorf, I may just give you a promotion for this!" NTM squealed. "How does Vice President General sound to you?"
"Hey that’s my job!" Al complained.
"Yeah well . . . let Gorf have it for a while."
"I am honoured, Mr Prethident! But I think Guru Al should remain in the pothition he ith in."
"You’re lucky," Al said, "I was going to beat you."
Uncle Brian walked quickly over to his mother, hugging her. "Mother, you are safe!"
"Oh son, I knew you would save us."
"Do you forgive me for aiding Gregor Stix?"
"Of course, you had no choice. But if the situation ever arises again, don’t be such an idiot!" The old woman cried. "I am almost dead anyway, and you were willing to risk the fate of the world and allow millions to die? Sheesh, you freaking fool!"
"Mum . . .!" Brian wailed.
"You are all idiots!" Stix cried. "I hate you all . . . I am going to stop talking now!"
"Good . . ." Guru Al said. "You remember me?"
Stix glared at him. "Of course I do you idiot!"
"Well it’s payback time!"
Stix affected a mundane glance as Al approached with the axe. Jake Lloyd faded away, muttering something about wishing he would maintain his role in the next Star Wars movie. Stix and Kook remained, now bonded in ropes. Al was within two metres of Stix when a flash of light blinded all within the clearing and Swirly the Re-Nec and Lem Parker appeared.
"Shit!" Al screamed. "It’s my dad, with Steven Segal!"
"No!" Swirly screamed. "I am Swirly the Re-Nec!" Lem stood motionless and quiet.
"Oh . . . I remember. I first met you when you were Swirly the Nec, and Cicci killed you in 1974. And then we saw you last year, as Swirly the Unnec!" Al said.
"Yes that is right! I was unnecced for a while, but then I reverted back to my former ways with the help of a satanic cult which invested in me great powers! Even better than those I formerly possessed."
"So what the hell does ‘nec’ mean anyway?" Al asked.
"It is short for Necromancer, you dolt!"
"You!" Captain Ryback screamed, all the while having been standing off to the side. "I knew there was a reason why our family disowned you. You’re a freak!"
"Oh," Swirly said, "my dear twin brother."
"What would mum think, eh Swirly?"
"Well mother is part of the satanic communist cult that saw my resurrection to power!"
"Figures . . ."
"Well anyway, I came for a reason. I always need some allies, and Gregor Stix is one!" The ropes that held Stix and Kook dissolved. "Although you called me a dickhead, Mr. President, you may be useful . . ."
"I don’t understand!" Stix cried.
"I shall depart now, farewell." Swirly bowed and as he did so Twitchy fired at him, the bullet catching him in the chest as he stood up. He thereupon collapsed.
Nine Turning Mirrors, Al and Igor approached the still body. Igor felt for a pulse and shook her head. "Can’t really take a bullet can he?" Al snickered and then turned towards Stix. "Now, you!" Al approached Stix once more with the axe.
"Al! No!" Igor shouted. "We have to turn them over to the Kiwis. For diplomatic reasons. We’ll support a new government and these two will be imprisoned for the rest of their lives!"
"I don’t like the sound of this!" Stix exclaimed.
Ryback whistled and signalled for a few soldiers to approach. Three came over, seized Kook and Stix. "Take them to the Palace gaol!" NTM said.
"But . . . but!" Al wailed. "I want revenge!"
"Shutup Al!" NTM commanded.
"It’s a wonder where you got that authority from, Mirrors!" Igor marvelled.
"It was I who guided young Nine Turning Mirrors!" Uncle Brian declared.
"Young?" Gamblor inquired.
"I thought that he would need it."
"Thanks, gramps!!" NTM cheered.
"But I and my mother must depart. We will see you again no doubt. Ciao." Abu Kandandi and Uncle Brian thereupon quickly disappeared.
"Not one for soppy goodbyes, eh?" Igor remarked.
"Would someone take me home?" Glenda Woolly asked.
NTM sighed. "Someone get a chopper for this woman!" Al approached with the axe. "I said a chopper, not chop her!" NTM squealed. He breathed deeply. "Shit, I need a good eat!"
Al turned to his foster father, Lem, whom he had not seen in 26 years. "Shit! Where did you come from?" Al asked. "And what the hell is this about you helping Gregor Stix?"
"Son . . . please," Lem uttered, "forgive me, I was misguided."
"Well we will have to talk this over . . . I don’t think I will ever forgive you though!" Al exclaimed. "How could you have gone over to the Beige side?!"
"You wouldn’t believe the power of the Beige Side, son!"
"But Gregor Stix, my enemy . . .!
"Here. I have a present for you." Lem pulled a toffee apple from his pocket. "I know how you used to love these."
Al’s eyes welled with tears. "I love you dad!" He ran to Lem and embraced him.
"Rather quick to pardon his father for virtually betraying him and all he stands for, isn’t he?" Igor said to NTM.
"You know how he is a sucker for sweets." NTM replied. "Look at the little fella! He loves those apples."
"I think it is because he loves those apples so much that he isn’t such a little fella." Igor theorised.
"Good point, Marshall General," NTM said, "but weren’t we about to eat?"
"Yes!" Gamblor yelled. "It’s 10:30pm and I haven’t eaten since this morning!"
The group re-entered the Palace and headed for the kitchen. "So, where’s mum?" Al asked his father.
Ryback remained, glancing at the body of his brother. "Well that’s what you get!" he philosophised to his dead sibling. He then began to dig a hole in which to bury him.
Return to Index or go to part: 1 2 3 4 Epilogue
Last updated: 02/07/00