Under the Squirrel Sun….
Author's notes: Conker and all related characters are property of Rareware and Microsoft © I'm not writing this for any form of profit. Also, some of the characters have under gone slight to major personality changes. For example, unlike in the games, where Gregg can at the very least tolerate Conker, he now cannot stand him. For a similar reason as to why he dislikes cats. It takes him so damn long to collect his soul, not to mention that he constantly has to bring him back to the land of the living. To say the least, he wants nothing to do with that "furry little prick! " Trust me when I say there are others. Lastly, please do let me know if you feel that anything needs a little or a lot of changing. Though, try to keep it at the very least intelligible, like if something doesn't make sense, or if there`s some sort of plot hole. With all that said, enjoy my first fan fiction, Conker: Under the Squirrel Sun.
The place: Squridaenia; more specifically, the Cock and Plucker: a popular bar and club house where our tale begins. Inside the afore mentioned establishment sat a small band of squirrels, drinking the night away with multiple bottles already downed. Among them, sat two incredibly important individuals; one of them was commanding general and head military scientist Rodent. He wore a large pair of glasses, a pair of brown hiking shoes and a thick black jacket with several pockets and a badge signaling his positions in the militia. While not so much a heavy drinker, he'd had his share of hangovers and crazy nights. The other high stature individual was none other then the king himself. He wore a blue hoody with yellow highlights on the bottom and sleeves, green shorts with again yellow highlights on the belt line and ends of the legs, and blue shoes with a single strapped down lace and a large yellow blotch on the tip. Rather then occasionally drinking and rarely if not just once getting drunk like Rodent, this high placed squirrel was drinking every single night, and ended up drunk nearly once every week; sometimes even twice or thrice. One such event even lead him through the once kingdom of the fabled Panther King, and ending with him being crowned an unwilling new ruler of this land. I am of course talking about King of the squirrels himself, witty, greedy, fearless, lustful, rude, and now king: Conker the squirrel. But lately, this kingly squirrel had felt rather depressed, and was going through quite the personality change, and it all revolved around the passing of a certain individual whom he had felt a close pull to, and when she found herself on the wrong end of a machine gun, Conker had since been going through some rough times, tending to act rather depressed and to not speak to many people aside from those who he had to during his kingly duties. But enough of that, we'll get to it in a bit; back to the story. The two friends (Conker and Rodent) sat with several war buddies of there's, and were drinking to there hearts content. Well, all except for one.
"No, I'm serious Rodent, I don't want another drink! "Said a rather annoyed Conker. As mentioned before, normally Conker would be more then happy to have yet another drink. Except by now, he would probably be on his 7thbottle, rather then his 1st as he was. Again as mentioned above, drinking was a regular thing for this little red squirrel. That is, before she died. After Conker's girlfriend Berri died in the "Heist" incident, Conker had slowly but surely began to stop his drinking. This wasn't because he was depressed (though he definitely still was) it was because Berri had hated his constant drinking, to the point were she often considering breaking up with Conker. Conker always said that he would stop, but up until this point, he hadn't. But now, after her death, Conker'd had a change of heart, and honored her death by trying to live up to his promise. So far, it was looking as though he would finally stop drinking all together, much to the dismay of his drinking buddies. Including Rodent.
"Oh c'mon Conker, you can't be serious!" said Rodent, still in a bit of denial of Conker's deceased drinking habits.
"Rodent, we've already gone over this! I'm trying to cut back on these! "Pointing at all the beers his buddies had already gone through. Some of them were looking a bit tipsy.
"Ah cut loose Conker me-HIC-boy! Have one of the-"Started one of the squirrels, but he was cut off as a steaming mass of his projectile poison left his mouth, and fell to the floor.
"Yeah Con-HIC-ker, join the gang! "Said another of the squirrels.
"Listen to him Conker! Here, just drink this and all hop off the pecking train." Said Rodent, shaking one of the bottles he'd taken a sip out of earlier in Conker's face, saliva still visible.
"No Rodent, you know I said I was done with that shit, I don't want any! " Yelled Conker as he pushed the bottle out of his face and sent it tumbling to the wood floor below; much to the dismay of those who were already drunk in the bar and hadn't already passed out or wandered off.
"Quiet down over there!" shouted the bartender "You'll wake my daughter! "
"Fuck off!" yelled Conker while standing up out of his chair. "Besides, if your daughter can sleep through all the horse shit this place goes through in a night, I hardly think I'm gonna make a difference! " With a low grunt, the bartender was silent.
"Conker, I……I've never seen you like this "said Rodent. Letting out a sigh, Conker sat back down, lowered his eyelids and turned his head towards Rodent.
"Try running an entire continent for a day, see how you feel "said Conker.
"I suppose…but remember, I'm general, and I don't exactly run a cakewalk either "said Rodent. Conker shot him a bit of a look.
"I'll shut up now…" he whispered.
"Thank you "said Conker. He then pulled out a Nintendo d.s, and continued to smash it lightly with his various eating utensils. Across the bar, a shady looking weasel sat down, just nursing a beer, listening to the two squirrel's conversations. He wore a brown trench coat that covered most of his body with no real distinct markings and a matching hat. Only his long sniffling nose stuck out, though his eyes were illuminated with a pair of goggles. He was a member of a group of activists, trying to dethrone Conker and crown the Panther king once again; whom they believed was still alive. The moment he heard that the small red squirrel at that table was indeed Conker, he began loading a concealed magnum, preparing to assassinate his king. Unfortunately for him, though fortunate for Conker, one of the squirrels noticed the gleam of the gun and yelled at the top of his lungs.
"HE'S GOT A GUN! THAT FUCKA'S GOT A GUN!" Just like that, pandemonium broke loose, and the entire town echoed with the squirrels cry's of fear. Conker however, was not among them. This wasn't the first time Conker had seen one of these guys, though this was the first time he'd had some form of warning. As soon as he heard those words, he'd stood up, grabbed one of the bottles, and chucked it at his would-be attacker. The glass container hit straight and true, nailing the weasel square in the face, and sending him toppling to the ground; blood gushing from his cheeks, and cracking his goggles in several places. But he was trained for stress like this, and had taken several doses of pain-killers before coming.
"You always were quick to react weren't you 'sire' "said the weasel, standing up and brushing the blood off his face. By now all the squirrels (minus Conker obviously) had either evacuated or were cowering in some corner, under/ behind something, or were inching towards the exit. The world was silent, as the two men stared each other down, neither willing to move; as though they had looked into the snake-haired mistress's eyes and were now not but colored stone. The wind whistled, and all who could see watched with silent eyes and ears. Not a sound was heard. Not a breath was felt, nor word muttered. The two combatants' were virtually alone. Perfect.
Some where in the valleys of windy…
A groan eerily left the recently formed crater that night. Groans and moans were all that had yet to leave, but they would soon cease. Lying face down inside the crater was a weasel with a robotic right eye and leg, a slightly torn and burnt white lab coat covering his being, green leather gloves and no visible legs or feet. The weasels name was Dr. Von Kriplespac, a former military leader, scientist and servant to the now dead panther king. Then, he slowly began to lift himself out of the ditch he had made from reentering the earth's atmosphere after being shot into space from his spacecraft via airlock. Nobody to this day knows how in the hell he managed to survive the fall, let alone the vacuum of space. But in reality, what did that matter? He was alive, breathing, and most certainly moving. The lens on his robotic eye was heavily cracked, forcing him to only be able to look out of one eye. Many of his bones were broken, organs damaged and he had serious bleeding spots, both external and internal. But despite his serious medical condition, he was able to pull himself out of the pit, and lay himself out and onto the grass of windy. Looking up to the stars he had left behind, he raised his robotic fist and uttered a promise. A promise he intended to keep. He would kill that fucking squirrel. He would make him pay dearly; with his own blood. Then, as the broken and bleeding professor reached over, pressing a button on his arm with a picture of a tedi on it, he fell unconscious. He only hoped that the signal he'd sent out would be heard, and he'd be able to exalt his revenge on the squirrel that had ruined his chance at becoming king. He prayed someone would hear his call for mercy and help. He wished that he'd be answered.
He was…By his army.
Well? What did you think? Comments would be appreciated, especially if you intend to give me some advice. The next several chapters of this story we'll kind of be recaps, but with my own personal touch added in.