In the backwood bowels of Georgia was a wooden ramshackle home. Its inhabitants- a family of anthropomorphic redneck squids- were currently engaged in the traditional family activity of frog gigging.
"Alright, back 'er up!" Earlie said as a dump truck backed into the roaring wood chipper at their porch. The squid adjusted his "Ain't Skeered" hat as he chewed on a pouch of Skoal.
His mullet-haired, zit-ridden son, Rusty, peered up at the dump truck and asked, "Uh, daddy? Ain't we supposed to...You know, gig'em and all that?"
"What exactly are you implitatin' son?" Earlie said.
The dump truck tilted its load of frogs into the wood chipper, reducing the downfall of amphibians into a fantastic stream of blood and giblets. Earlie brandished a flamethrower and directed it at the spray of gore.
Rusty blinked. "Well, I kinda thought we'd go out all father-and-son-like into the woods and-"
"Boah," Earlie said as he blasted another gout of fire at the flying river of giblets. "Don't be a fag."
"But daddy, I was just-"
"Our lord and savior hates fags," Earlie said.
"That's right!" said Granny as she clattered towards the two on her walker. She was a balding elderly squid and a rampant sexual deviant. "Earnhardt don't take kindly to the rainbow peoples."
Earlie preached on, "For those who cornholeith shall know the fire and fury of his final Daytona 500."
Granny finished with, "For it shall be he that haveth the last lap."
"Amen."
There was a moment of silence before Earlie set his son on fire. "NOW EAT THEM DAMN GIGGINS BOAH! THEY AIN'T COME CHEAP!"
A patrol car rolled up just as Rusty's shrieking, flaming form sped past. "Sheriff! Sheriff help me! I'm burnin'! I'm burnin'!"
An overweight man with a buzz cut and a sparse mustache got out of the car. He waved and said, "Oh! Hey Rusty!" He looked up at the arching stream of frog-gore and said, "Uh, hey Earlie. You ain't uh...Doin' anything illegal, are ya?"
Earlie rubbed his chin. "Mm...No sir, not that I'm aware of."
"Oh, good!" Sheriff said. "'Cause I got someone I'd like ya to meet, and I'd hate for us to set a bad example."
"Nah ah," Earlie said as he chucked the flamethrower at the dump truck, causing it to go up in a pillar of fire. "You ain't convertitizin' me with them Buddha Witnesses and their belly rubbin' heathen ways!"
"Oh Earlie, it ain't nothin' like that," Sheriff said. "He's just a misinformed foreigner who got in a spot of trouble with the law."
"What did he do?" Granny asked.
"Oh," Sheriff said. "He got into a tussle at the bar."
"Is that so?" Earlie said. "Whatchu' mean by 'tussle?'"
"Well," Sheriff said, "he froze a guy, set him on fire, electrocuted him, and then vomited on him."
Earlie scoffed. "Sheeit, that ain't nothin'. Shoulda' seen the time I done strangulated this fat bitch with her booby holders then stuffed dynamite down 'er gab-pipe."
Rusty had just finished his stop, drop, and roll. "Uh, daddy," he said breathlessly. "I think you was talkin' about mommy #1."
Earlie bitch-slapped the adolescent cephalopod. "Don't 'chu talk randy about yo mamma, boy!" He then picked up Rusty and threw him into the flaming dump truck, which subsequently exploded.
"Uh, Earlie," Sheriff said. "Don't you think you're bein' a little harsh on the boy?"
Earlie shook his head just as Rusty careened back down to earth. "Spare the fire, spoil the child."
"Earlie, I think that's-"
A loud pounding came from Sheriff's car along with a muffled voice. "Hey! Hey! You mind getting me out of here? 150 degree Fahrenheit mean anything to you?"
"Oh shoot," Sheriff said as he approached the squad car. "I got so distracted that I-"
The car door flew off and smacked Sheriff in the face. A purple dragon with golden horns and a mohawk dorsal hopped out of the car and landed directly on top of Sheriff's door-crushed body. "Guys," the Sheriff croaked. "Meet Spyro."
Spyro belched a gout of flame and muttered, "Charmed, I'm sure." He then scraped Sheriff off the ground with his hind paw and kicked him into the squad car.
Earlie raised an eyebrow. "What the hail you supposed to be? Some kinda hernia Muslim?"
Rusty extricated a long piece of shrapnel from his torso. "No daddy! I think he's some sorta like reptile video game hero or somethin'."
"Whatchu' mean?" Earlie said. "Like Anne Coulter or somethin'?"
"No Earlie," Sheriff said as he peeled himself off his own car. "By some means of fourth-wall engineering, we're now able to bring the creations of fantasy into our world."
Granny was astonished. "But who'd do such a thing?"
* * *
A nude man with no knees and a resplendent red mane stood behind a wall of glass as he watched a bound, dark purple three-story dragon travel down a conveyor belt towards a tunnel of saws.
"HUMAN!" the dragon roared. "WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?"
The man, Dan Halen, rolled his eyes. "Look Malefor, I made this stipulation quite clear when you read the contract."
"WHAT? CONTRACT?" Malefor bellowed.
Dan Halen groaned. "Look, it says quite clearly in a size .0125 font that 'All aliens entering Dan Halen's Convex-O-Travel are subject to random dismemberment with no guarantee of reimbursement.'"
Malefor gaped. "CONTRACT?"
"Yes reptile, it's contractual."
"IT WAS A FUCKING POST-IT NOTE STUCK TO THE CONVEXITY PORTAL THAT SAID 'BEWARE THE COUGAR!'"
Dan Halen waved his hand. "Look, now we're bickering over semantics. The fact is that you'll be a proud addition to Dan Halen's Fine Line of Endangered Mythical Pocket Purses."
"I'LL RAZE YOUR HOMES AND RAPE YOUR MOTHER!"
"Wonderful," Dan Halen said. "Mum will be ecstatic. Have fun in hell!" He pulled a lever, causing the conveyor belt to accelerate. He then saluted Malefor and walked off. "Cheerio!"
"I WANT MY GODDAMN COUGAR!" Malefor rumbled as he approached the tunnel of saws.
* * *
"Hard to tell," Sheriff said as he coughed up some of his teeth. "But we should be grateful for this marvel."
"What the hell is community service?" Spyro said.
"Well Spyro," Sheriff said amiably, "it's a way of giving back to the community when you've done wrong. Think of it as penance, except you get anally raped if you don't do it."
Spyro looked behind Sheriff at Earlie and said, "Huh. Wonder how many hours he's skimped on."
Earlie took out his shotgun and shoved it in Spyro's face. "How 'boutchu talk that lizard jabber to my pal Mr. Remington!"
Spyro breathed a gout of flame and melted the gun's barrel. Earlie pursed his lips for a moment before miraculously procuring another one. Spyro melted it. Earlie brandished another. Spyro melted it again.
Sheriff groaned. "Aw hell, this'll take a while."
1,294 melted shotguns later and the squid and the dragon were at a standstill. "Hm," Earlie said. "Touche, strange reptile. Touche."
"Whatever," Spyro muttered. He turned to Sheriff and said, "What the hell am I supposed to do?"
"Well let's see here," Sheriff said as he looked over his clipboard. "You were supposed to be teaching a hobo how to yodel, but I guess that got updated...to..." Sheriff flipped a page over and peered closer at the clipboard. "Elderly pleasurification?"
"Aw yeah!" Granny said as she clattered over to Spyro. "How you doin'?" She leaned in and whispered, "Got some nice haunches on ya."
Spyro stared blankly at her. "The fuck is this?"
"Now Spyro," Sheriff admonished gently. "That's an elderly person. Gonna have to curtail that tongue just a little when you're around her."
Granny continued her ribaldry. "I like 'em firm and purple."
Spryo recoiled. "Get this bitch away from me."
"Now, now," Sheriff said. "Don't take her too seriously. She's gettin' up there-"
Granny pulled out a bowie knife and put it to Sheriff's throat. "Don't sass me you fat sum' bitch! I'm gonna get my tail one way or the other." She turned to Spyro and licked her lips. "Ain't that right?"
"No," Spyro said bluntly. "It's not."
"Oh c'mon!" Granny begged as she sheathed her knife. "Don't know till ya try!"
"I've never tried swapping spit with venom breath either," Spyro said. "Not really missing out on anything."
"Don't be a prude!" Granny insisted. "How 'bout I...Light your firaga?"
"Wrong game granny," Rusty said. "That's Final Fantasy."
"I'll take your Shoryuken all the way."
"Nope, Street Fighter," Rusty said.
"I got some novelty Materia for ya."
"Final Fantasy again."
"Well shit!" Granny snapped. "Which one is it?"
"The one that probably ended my career," Spyro said with a sigh. "I'm apparently being replaced by Gizmo with fucking psoriasis."
Granny was silent for a moment before saying, "Does that mean I can ride your purple dragon?" Spyro did not dignify that with a response. Granny decided to elaborate.
"That means I wanna ride your-"
"I KNOW WHAT IT MEANS!" Spyro roared. He suddenly looked ill. "I've...read fanfiction before." He glowered at the squids and said, "You people make me sick."
"Oh don't be like that, Spyro," Sheriff said as he patted the dragon on the shoulder. "You had a good run, and hell! Ya still got a ton of fans!"
Spyro grumbled, "With a portion of them being dorks in their mid-twenties writing shitty crossovers."
"Oh quit your bitchin'," Earlie said as he chugged a bottle of cheap bourbon. "You wanna service yer community? How 'boutchu you use that fancy fire breath to cookerize us some Angus?"
Spyro looked over at their grill and asked, "Is that squid with the blonde hair supposed to be on the coals?"
"Oh her?" Earlie said as he dumped copious amounts of kerosene on the squid's unconscious form. "She just a fire bathin', tha's all."
"No daddy!" Rusty protested. "Don't burn her! She's the only auntie I got!"
"Damn it boah! Keep yer mouth hushed!"
The female squid, Lil, awoke from her bed of kerosene and coals and shouted in a smoke-rasped voice, "Earlie! You sum' bitch! I told you that insurance scam ain't gonna work!"
Earlie jabbed a tentacle at the platinum blonde bitch-squid. "Mind yer mouth ya uppity Pall-Mall-suckin' bitch! Ya don't know till ya try!" He nudged Spyro and urged, "Now quick! Show her yer fire face! PCB Babeh!"
Spyro leered at Earlie and said, "I can't."
"What the-" Earlie snapped. "The hail you mean 'you can't?'"
"I'm outta magic," Spyro said.
Lil, asked, "What kinda magic you lookin' for?"
"Crystals."
"I got just the thing."
Sheriff intervened. "Uh, hey now. Those wouldn't be the...Illegal kind, would they?"
"Nah," Lil said as she handed Spyro a pipe. "I don't do that no more."
"Phew," Sheriff said in relief. "I'd hate to drag litigation into-"
Spyro, inadvertently, had just smoked a backyard offshoot of crystal meth. The effects were immediate. A fury built up in Spyro, one so strong that it caused an expulsion of 10,000 degree breath that completely vaporized Lil into infinitesimal atoms. They stood in silence for a moment before Earlie removed his hat and threw it to the ground. "Goddammit! Now how the hell we gonna get compensified without any goddamn proof?"
"Lil?" Rusty squeaked. He looked over to Spyro and quickly backpedaled. "Uh, daddy. I think there somethin' wrong with him..."
Earlie groaned. "Aw hail, he's getting the after-kill jitters. Just like a green lil' bitch."
Spyro unleashed a feral roar and rocketed into the air in a plume of purple fire, leaving a massive scorch mark on the ground. The squids and Sheriff shared another moment of silence before Sheriff said, "Huh. Wonder where he flew off to."
* * *
Dan Halen had been busy raping the ozone layer with his industrialized, Styrofoam-fueled hair dryer when he felt a great reverberation throughout his skyscraper. He sighed in exasperation and switched off the 100 mph hair-dryers. He then went through the automatic doors back into the Dismemberment Room to see Spyro pull Malefor out of the tunnel of saws.
"NO!" Dan Halen shouted. "Insolent lizards! What are you doing?"
Spyro and Malefor couldn't be bothered. Malefor himself was too astonished by the twist of events. "Spyro," he rumbled. "What is the meaning of this defection?" He cocked his head at him. "And why are you twitching so much?"
"Saw you lookin' at her," Spryo growled.
Malefor blinked. "Wait, what?"
"YOU LOOKIN' AT MY WOMAN?" Spyro challenged, pounding his chest. "DON'T MAKE ME TAKE MY SHIRT OFF!"
"Uh," Malefor said nervously. "You're not wearing a shirt."
"AH! YOU'S A WISE-ASS THEN, HUH? GOTCHU' SOME SMARTALICKY RETORTATIONS?"
"What the hell does 'retortation' mean?"
It was then that it donned on Dan Halen. "Wait a minute...The belligerent shouting, the lack of shirt or shoes, the ignorant coupling of words. My god...THE DRAGON'S GONE COUNTRY!"
Dan Halen raced over to the control panel and flipped open the translucent lid covering the "Redneck Isolation" button. He pressed it, and a cylindrical cage shot down and imprisoned Spyro as generic rap pounded from the loudspeakers. Spyro put his paws to his head and screamed.
"NO! THE MONKEY VOODOO! IT'S STABBIN' MAH EARS! OH GOD, THE TWANG MAN! WHERE'S THE TWANG?" Spyro slumped to the floor in an unconscious heap.
Dan Halen deactivated the countermeasure and said over the loudspeaker, "You! The big purple one! Show's over! Get back on the conveyor belt!"
Malefor stared incredulously at Spyro. "How did you do that?"
"Don't question me reptile! Just get back on the belt!"
"No."
Dan Halen huffed. "Well...Then get the hell out of my skyscraper."
Malefor looked over to the swirling convexity portal and then back at Spyro. "Can I rape him first?"
Dan Halen stuttered. "Ra- rape him? Why the hell do you want to rape him?"
"Do you have any idea how annoying this little shit has been?"
Dan Halen considered that. "Mm. Nope, can't say that I have."
"So can I?"
"No."
"Please?"
"NO!"
"Oh c'mon! Just a little?"
"BE GONE HEATHEN REPTILE!" Dan Halen roared as he activated a floor trap that literally plummeted Malefor into Hell. Dan Halen was a man of many connections in that regard. He tapped his fingers on the control panel as he considered his next move, eying Spyro as he hit the button for the intercom. A female voice answered.
"Yes Mr. Halen?"
"Sheila, I've decided to redesign the new toy line. Have my science team synthesize the subject into polymer form at once!"
"And what toy line would that be, Mr. Halen?"
"THE SKYLANDERS LINE YOU DAFFY BITCH! WHAT DO YOU THINK?"