Title: A Parody Of Crime
Author: HunterKing
-Several notes before you read-
- The following story is a parody of S&H fanfiction, particular the ongoing themes and subjects they often contain. Like I said it is a complete parody, farce, a case of irony, written in jest and meant as a complete joke not to be taken at all seriously. If you cannot handle it then read no further.
- As a parody all grammar errors, mistakes, misspelling, continuity errors and anything else you can think of or find were done intentionally and if that was not enough it was beta'd to make sure the mistakes remain.
So sit back and enjoy the ride.
Our story opens as the ruggedly handsome David Starsky, following a hearty breakfast of cold pizza and root beer, arrives at Venice Place to pick up his partner, Ken Hutchinson (aka: the blond). "Good morning, buddy" Starsky beams a great toothy smile. "Duh." replies the blonde, as he's hangover.
Our intrepid duo arrives at Metro and, upon entering the squad room, hears Dobey growl and bellow like a bull elephant in heat. "Starsky…the other guy…get in here!"
"What is it, Cap?" Starsky impishly asks, his indigo eyes all a twinkle.
"There's been a murder at the Army base and I need you to go undercover."
"Who's been murdered?" asks the ever-curious sable-haired detective.
"Sheila, the Army's mascot goat and her handler." Comes the reply
"Oh, God, NO! Not Sheila!." Starsky cries manly tears as he pounds his fist into Dobey's desk. "I'll take the case 'cuz this time it's personal!"
"I can drink cow's milk…happy cows come from California" Hutch adds as he picks lint off his mismatched sweater.
"OK, I'll take you two off the doodie roster for today" Dobey huffs. "Be at the Army base at 0530 tomorrow morning. Hutch looks at his watch. 0530, that's when the big hand is on the six…
The following morning, at the crack of 7:45, the dynamic duo arrives at the secret naval base, somewhere in the Hartz Mountains where the Minnesota Hutchinson's own vacation property. "You're so fortunate to have such wonderful, loving parents, Blondie" quips the feisty smaller man. Hutch belches from the 8th beer he's had since they left Bay City, as he looks at his shriveled testicles, hanging from the Torino's rear view mirror.
Once inside the base they take their assignments. Hutch is typecast as a dumb officer and Starsky is the intrepid enlisted man since he's the only one with Army experience. They arrive at the blond's new office. "What should I do, ah, Starsky?" he asks.
"Just sit here and colour inside the lines." Starsky knowingly instructs his brain-dead partner. "And, Blintz…try not to eat all the green crayolas this time."
Oh, OK." Comes the reply.
Starsky stealthily sidles toward the mess hall, where he reads the foam in a pot of boiling potatoes and uncovers the reason his beloved Sheila died. There is an evil plot to infiltrate the Canadian Pharmaceutical industry with cheap Thailand knock-offs and the plot is being spear-headed by the evil triumvirate of Boris (James Marshall Gunther), Natasha (Kira) and Dr. Vladimir Getyourocksoff (Vic Bellamy). While snooping around, our intrepid hero is taken prisoner and told he's to be tortured. He's tied to a chair as a pack of giant mutant squirrels are unleashed upon his naked, well-muscled body. As the squirrels begin to nibble at his nipples, he locks his steely indigo eyes upon the rodents' beady little black ones and bends them to his will. They lose all interest in his manly, furred chest and begin to gnaw at the ropes holding him to the table. Once freed, he thanks the little creatures but is stopped abruptly by Dr. V who shoves a 75 mm field artillery cannon up his ass and shoots his nuts off with an M-16. Huuuttttcchhhh! I need you! He thinks.
"Huh? Is anybody there?" questions the blond, but when there is no answer he resumes colouring and eating paste.
A bitter fight ensues over the aforesaid nuts, when Starsky realizes that the squirrel's plan to eat one now and store the other two for winter. Fortunately for the ladies of the world, Starsky retrieves the family jewels and reattaches them with a stapler and some eucalyptus leaves snatched from the paws of a hungry koala bear. Phew…that was a close one.
Meanwhile, back at the base, Hutch hears the phone ring. "Hallo?" the blond speaks.
"Sir, we need you to come to the mailroom, immediately." squeaks the private.
"The mailroom…what is it?"
"It's the small cubicle at the end of the hall where we keep the goldfish, but that's not important right now."
"Oh, OK." Hutch replies. Once he arrives, there is an exhausted carrier pigeon with a large box in its beak. It contains a note from Starsky, written in his own testicular blood, requesting additional men to help in the dire situation. Also there are directions to his current location, although the map is totally useless as it comes from Mapquest and is downloaded from the Internet which Al Gore hasn't invented yet. Finally a set of negatives from Polaroid photographs Starsky took of the underground facility where he is prisoner. Blow these photos up and find me the note states. Hutch heads for the ordinance division, returning with a case of dynamite and 12 cakes of C-4. That explosion will be heard clear though to Poughkeepsie Poor Hutch is under so much anxiety, blaming himself for everything, including but not limited to the Kennedy assassination, the sinking of the Lusitanian, the Spanish Inquisition and basically anything that happened after the invention of the wheel… He begins to fret. To calm his fears he calls Huggy and requests the desired backup. Then he eats a piece of chalk.
"Boy, I sure could wash this down with a nice glass of cold goat's milk." Suddenly Hutch misses Shiela, too. He dials Huggy to ask if there is any information on his partner…since he's not a very good detective and must rely on the bartender for any information. As there is a convention of mimes in town, there is no word on the street.
At the evil lair, a stoic Starsky is thrown onboard of a cargo plane and taken to 134,000 feet. With a fever of 108.7 and climbing, he's dumped from the Lear Jet to plunge to his death without a parachute. The ice-cold temperatures break his fever in enough time for him to engage his spidey senses and he painfully twists his body in mid air and heads for the open sky light of the Acme Mattress Factory of Düsseldorf, executing a perfect 10-point swan dive into a pile of queen-size Posturepedics. The crowd goes wild, as the East German judge has awarded his first perfect score. Starsky takes the gold, and amid a flurry of well-wishers and flowers, clambers down the pile of bedding. He has 37 broken ribs and his back is injured since someone has inadvertently left a pea under one of the mattresses. He limps out of the factory and waits for the blonde with the back-up men.
Huggy appears shortly with the requested army men in a shoe box. It's a vast assortment of green little dudes and Hutch is very happy. "What it is?" Huggy comments in his best I'll-be-black-and-hip street lingo. He presents the army with a bill for
$ 43,766,913.11 excluding tax and gratuity. Hutch hands him a stack of $100 million in Barry Bonds and the deed to Boardwalk and Park Place. "I'll put the change toward your outstanding bar tab." replies Huggy as he boards the Number 3 cross town bus for Bay City. "Blah…blah…blah" replies the blond "'cuz nobody cares what he has to say anyway.
Backup in place, Hutch crawls on his belly through the compound; which is completely unnecessary and finds his way across a live firing range. He's shot so full of holes that he whistles like a calliope in a wind storm and most of his head is blown away. But missing a head isn't unusual for a military officer, so it's okey-dokey. Hutch vomits.
At the factory, Starsky uses his renewed testicular prowess to bed three workers. Of course he's magnificent and they swoon. A second gold medal is awarded. Can't keep a good man down. As Starsky leans in the doorway, the setting sun bounces off the radiance of his afterglow, making meteorological changes that have yet to be fully analyzed or explained. Suddenly, a sweet brown dog comes up, attracted by the light.
"Woof…woof….woof…woof."
"What is it girl, is Dobey in trouble?"
"Woof…woof…woof…woof."
"The circumference of the surface tension of a dodecahedron is inversely proportional to the sum of the digits of seven sides divided by the square root of pi?"
"Woof…woof…woof…woof."
"There's a burrito stand 6 clicks north by northwest of here? Let's go…I'm buying!"
64 confusing chapter later, Starsky and Bruno save the day. Hutch's head has miraculously grown back so he can't be an officer anymore. Poor Starsky has been through the destruction of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, Gunther's bullets, Kira's deception, more Gunther's bullets, the Hindenburg disaster, Pearl Harbour and food poisoning from the all-you-can-eat pasta bar at the local Chucky Cheese franchise, of which Hutch is the majority stockholder. "I trusted you! How could you deceive me like this? Bad Hutch…very, very bad Hutch!" Starsky is infuriated. Hutch eats a booger.
Crying manly tears, Starsky hears a noise. "Baa….baa…baa."
"Sheila! You came back! You're not dead! Oh baby, I missed you so much!" A blessed and happy reunion all around, but the evil trio isn't finished yet. Suddenly Starsky's beloved Sheila turns on him, nipping his hand…it's a horrific hangnail and Starsky goes down.
"Hutch, Oh God, it hurts. Hutch, I'm dying, buddy…it's all over." (Cough, cough)
Hutch somehow gets the strength to find a pair of cuticle scissors and snips the offending skin flap from Starsky's middle finger. Crisis averted, as Starsky finally lapses into blessed unconsciousness in the front seat of the Torino. Hutch vomits. He then calls the Auto Club, Merle and an ambulance. Starsky is medivaced to Memorial hospital where he is on a respirator in ICU. Harrowing hours pass, but eventually he opens his eyes to the adoring, buxom hospital nurses. Bruno has barked his way to a Congressional Medal of Honour and Hutch eats his tie. Once again, the Universe has righted itself and our boys eagerly await their next adventure.
The End