Previously: http://4-ch.net/dqn/kareha.pl/1335873482/
Prologue: Mr Gray and his Exploding
however, unbeknownst to anyone, the probe itself was the 800GET.
The Great Sky Loli Showed up and proceeded to throw a godly tantrum over having missed the GET.
And then the probe/800GET, having outstayed its welcome past the 800th post,
continued to outstay its welcome for even more. This GET wasn't going anywhere soon, it fully intended to
harvest the horse-nebula-sperm.
The diamond Queen saw probe's ordeal and began to think of her long lost son. She fell to her knees with a mother's mercy. Prayed to the angels. Every one.
Unfortunately, all the angels were currently bust trying to get the GSL to calm down, so the prayers were all redirected to Satan, Incorporated.
Satan was so overwhelmed that he accidentally discorporated. Bereft of the usual malevolent satanic influence, the world
.
"Daddy, what does regret mean?"
However before daddy could answer the universe exploded.
The universe unexploded so it could explode again later. It did.
The evil penis also exploded, onto Zardoz' grimacing visage.
This caused the universe to implode, for a change. Then it exploded again.
Scientists convened to study the phenomenon, but then they exploded.
The exploded scientists were re-assembled by forensic scientists to determine the cause of the explosion.
Then they exploded.
All of them. Except for me. And you know why?
I flipped over that diamond ace.
Yeah, it was another grim smoky night in Bill's Joint, with raucous beer drenched laughter in one corner drowned out by the sinister hushed dealings in all the others. And there were a lot of dark corners in Bill's Joint. I was one of them, a corner and a coroner, ends sharp as midnight and a wit even sharper.
"I like fat animals. Little fat ones, big fat ones, doesn't matter."
"Gotta have a little pork to 'em, ya know what I'm sayin'?"
Fat Fred crossed his arms and nodded slowly, frowning as the greasy wheels turned slowly between his chubby ears. Then it clicked.
"Hey pardner, you would'n' be talkin' 'bout me, here now right?" he asked, fat rage slowly growing from the depths of his portulence.
"No" Lied
said.
"Oh," said Fat Fred. "Ok."
I toyed with my melted margarine.
Lied was an honest man--honest enough, at least. Fat Fred really lived up to his name: he looked like a Fred Astaire had turned into a balloon and got blown up to nearly the breaking point.
The server came to our table. Nice girl, seemed a little young for a place like this, but when you were around her you got the feeling that there was absolutely no chance that she was a wayward goddess attempting to hide away after faking her own death. Not even the slightest chance.
Actually, even after she exploded, it was a little ambiguous. Not that exploding waitresses were anything unusual in Bill's Joint. Bill
was nowhere to be seen, but there were more than a few joints around. Hashish, salmonella, lemongrass, you name it, somebody smoked it. I was puffing on a huckleberry cigar.
"I'm just sayin', is all," Lied continued. "A pig wid no pork ain't no pig
you'd ever wed." All nodded in silent agreement.
"Enough," Silent Sam stated simply. "Business."
"Sam is right, let's talk *business," said Agreeable Alex.
Everybody leaned in and their voices became hushed.
"So how do we kill The Shobon?" murmured Fat Fred
languidly.
"I h-h-ave a p-p-plan," stammered Nervous Ned. "It involves...explosions."
exploded in the vertical axis,
and The Shobon was right above his exploding head. Unfortunately,
The Shobon was born with -plosion resistant skin. He was impervious to all explosions and most implosions.
The universe, upset at the fact that the Shobon was able to resist its explosive tantrums, had
a cup of Hippopotajuice. A Hippopotajuice had recently opened up in a mall in the universe and the universe had been meaning to try it.
It was almost as tasty as apolojuice, nida.
It was also poison.
Luckily the antidote was somewhere in the universe.
In fact, it was in my glass of whiskey, which I was nursing like a wet mother. Just as I expected, the Shobon (that lucky fool) had turned his attentions to the Terrible Table. Luscious Lied, Fat Fred, Agreeable Alex, Silent Sam, and the posthumous Nervous Ned. They were poised and poisoned. A posey in my pocket posing a problem. I had nine thousand problems, but
who was I to complain. As long as loose Angelica wasn't troubling me I wasn't feeling too bad.
Suddenly, Fat Fred exploded. Blood and giblets splattered across everyone and everything nearby. A lump even landed in my drink,
spoiling my reverie. I quickly pulled out a
nubile young catboy to clean my
litter box.
That didn't help much with the gibs in my glass, though, which required
a Split Pro.
As I reached for it, the Split Pro exploded.
Fortunately, this was exactly how the Split Pro was supposed to work. The explosion swallowed up my glass for a moment, then receded, revealing a gib-free glass of duck blood. I took a sip.
And then, the Shobon, little more than a sad visitor to this combustive realm, finally
puked up his tuna casserole all over the table.
I could tell from the smell that he'd ordered tuna casserole with extra sauce.
Who in the world orders extra sauce nowadays, you moron?
I want to ask him, "did you REALLY want to eat it with extra sauce?"
I want to interrogate him. I want to interrogate him for roughly an hour.
Are you sure you don't just want to try saying "extra sauce"?
Coming from a Bill's Joint veteran such as myself, the latest trend among us vets is this,
extra peas.
"I AM DISPLEASED" boomed the Negus.
"SOMEONE HAS USED MORE THAN THEIR ALLOTTED PORTION OF SAUCE" the Negus continued to boom.
He was largely ignored by the patrons of Bill's.
But Tom did not dare dwell on that terrible possibility and, for the time being, he resolutely put all thoughts of never seeing his parents again, out of his mind.
Tom Stunkledorf decided to leave Bill's. His departure was hardly noticed.
The poker game raged on. Now, Lied, he checked and Fred bet all. Lied raised and Fred did call. The smiled just melted off his face when Lied turned over that diamond ace.
"This is the second time you beat me with that hand!" Gurfogled Fat Fret.
"Jus' luck." Lied said truthfully.
And then the diamond ace exploded. Everyone
was bummed out that they never saw a Shrek movie before.
Ever since Shrek's cameo appearance in
Papa John'sssssssssssssssssss
award winning rendition of
Pizza Buttz.
The Negus was very displeased.
That's why she paid me to put explosives in the diamond ace. I can't refuse money from a mad dame. But I had other reasons. Number one being
I hadn't talked toot yet with Fangio the fat barman so
penis
feelings led me to do what I did.
Penis
McPenerson, the manager on duty at Bill's, rushed out of the back office when he heard the explosion and immediately proceeded to
explode. But it was too late.
Penis hobbled toward me, looking limp.
"What happened?" I asked.
Penis hung his head. "I came too late." He seemed distraught.
"That's better than coming too early, Penis. That might get you killed in this business," I consoled him, and gave him a hug. That seemed to perk him up a little. "You seem a little stiff, Penis. Maybe you should work out more."
"I should. I can't ever find anyone to work with, though, and I don't like doing it alone.... say... would you...?"
Penis didn't finish his thought, but I knew what he wanted. I paused for a moment and
exploded.
CHAPTER X13V7c
Raging Butt Hats and Idle Lookyloos
The night was sultry.
CHAPTER X13V7d
Raging Butt Hats and Idle Lookyloos 2: Electric Boogaloo
It was a hot sticky morning.
Penis
hadn't had a wink of sleep all night, tossing and turning ensnared by the cloying wet sheets
and the constant din of the raging butt hats outside his house, waving protest signs and participating in new age drum circles at all hours.
As a result he died.
The soul of Penis
also died.
Zardoz was pleased.
Zardoz was also dead.
The ghost of Nietzche prepared to write a treatise on the death of Zardoz.
(Nietzsche died in 1900).
The Negus was displeased.
The Negus was also dead.
The previous sentence had been predicted in advance by prescient wizards.
Dead prescient wizards.
Deep gay anal fucking
is what they'd be talking about if they weren't all dead.
The Short Novel Thread died.
Momma mia.
The author was kind of glad the short novel thread was dying. He had been worried that with his current pace, the trilogy would turn into a sprawling 7-book series of diminishing quality, if it was even possible for it to get any worse. But at the new slow rate of output, he could see the epic was now slowly crawling toward it end. He knew the most important part of a novel is to wow them with the ending. He gritted his teeth, with newfound determination, to write the great conclusion to his magnum opus.
STUNNING CONCLUSION CHAPTER THE LAST, FINAL 3881834 ULTIMATE WARRIOR DENOUEMENT:
The Unending Devotion of Great Sky Deities, their Pet Hogs, and the Götterdämmerung Tea Party
In which our protagonists and antagonists and neutragonists face their fears, the universe explodes a few more times, nothing is resolved and a certain Big Butt forgets to make its final appearance
"Oh, pooh" said Pooh, "I stepped in some
pee."
"Oh, pee," said Pee, "I stepped in some
p--"
"900 GET!" interjected