The Return of Hochstetter (or: How the Major Successfully Failed, Act III)
by 80sarcades


As always, thank you for reading and for your kind reviews! Those authors not speaking here (Sophia Villo, El Gringo Loco, and Chopstick Legend) will appear with speaking roles in the last chapter. Thanks again to Sgt. Moffitt for her role as Kommandant!

Additional note: I'm not expressing any political views of any kind; I'm just simply using the President of the United States as my character. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go and talk to the FBI agents at the front door; hopefully, they'll have the same sense of humor!

Disclaimer: I have none. I'm shameless, but I'm honest. Any erors are my own.

From the last chapter:

In a sense, the Major was right. I was helpless. Hochstetter had the computer. With its special abilities, it could do almost anything here. Or in my world, for that matter.

Then again, just how bad could things get?


Chapter 8: Mob Rule; Obama's Choice

The expression on President Barrack Obama's face turned from solemn to grim as he thumbed his way through the TV channels with the remote. The snippets he saw of each channel were less than encouraging and had been so for days:

"-All copies of Hogan's Heroes, including the Kommandant's Kollection, have been affected-"

"-The riot, which began three days ago, has spread to at least six states and is threatening to engulf-"

"Tonight, the Mayor of St. Louis has declared 'open city' status in hopes of avoiding the destruction Chicago has suffered-

"-Insurers estimate the total damage by the mob to be in the hundreds of millions of dollars. At this point, Army and National Guard units are only barely able to contain the mounting rampage-"

"-Tonight on HoganMacgyver! HoganMacgyver must save the utterly despicable - yet strangely interesting - 80sarcades from certain doom at the hands of Murdoc!"

The President paused for a moment to watch the scene unfold. A man, strapped down to a table, watched nervously as a laser beam sliced its way towards his body.

Ripoff! Obama angrily thought. They did this in Goldfinger! Is nothing sacred anymore? He rolled his eyes heavenward as the program continued.

"HoganMacgyver!" the man called desperately. "Save me!"

"Not to worry, 80's," HM called cheerfully. "I'll get you out of this!" A roll of HoganMacgyver-brand duct tape appeared in her hand. "I'll just tape this watch crystal to the blade of my Swiss Army knife before I tape the knife to the end of this pole," she explained. "Then, I'll move the crystal into the laser beam and angle it so it hits the power supply…"

"WILL YOU JUST SHUT UP AND DO IT ALREADY?" 80sarcades screamed. HM lowered the watch crystal into the laser stream…

…only to see the beam deflect into 80sarcades' chest. "AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" he screamed, then died.

"Oops, sorry about that," HoganMacgyver said, grinning evilly. "I was always bad at angles." Another item caught her attention. "So there's the off switch! I-"

A finger stabbed at the remote; the channel changed.

"Welcome to Mob Cooking with Bits and Pieces!" an announcer intoned, then continued. "And now, your host and mob member Bits and Pieces along with her special mob guests Marie1964 and Crystal Rose of Pollux!"

The audience cheered.

"So, ladies," Bits and Pieces began, "I understand you have a revolutionary new cooking device to show us today!"

Crystal Rose held up a plain white object in her hand. "We call it the GoSlicer9000™" she explained. She pressed a switch on the side; the audience gasped as a set of stainless steel blades popped out of the housing. "It slices, dices, and also makes short work of renegade authors!"

"Plus," Marie added, holding up her own device, "it's compact enough to put into your purse for those extended trips away from home! The GoSlicer9000 comes with a range of attachments and can also be used for self-defense!"

"As a special treat," Crystal Rose continued, "we're giving all of the audience members their very own GoSlicer9000 so they can see how wonderful it really is!"

The studio audience applauded politely before their new presents were handed out. Bits and Pieces held up her own device and studied it carefully. "This is just so perfect," she gushed. "I can already think of a dozen uses for it…"

An upraised hand caught her attention. "You have a question?" she asked.

"Hi," the audience member began. "My name's Justalittlehhfan, and I had a question about the GoSlicer9000. This would be wonderful to have around in case the Author-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named shows up…"

The rest of the audience, along with the hosts, visibly shivered at the spoken title.

"…but really, there's only so much you can do with a knife. For all we know, this guy is some kind of runner or track star. What do I do then?"

"That's a wonderful question!" Marie1964 exclaimed. "Fortunately, we've already thought of that. If you move this knob here-" As she did so, a nozzle popped out of the casing "-the flamethrower attachment is ready to use by pressing the red button."

"It's perfect for those last minute meals!" Crystal Rose of Pollux continued. "Plus, its thirty foot range will make it easy for you to catch him even if he does run-"

The remote was raised yet again. This time, a talk show appeared.

"-we're back with the leaders of the mob."

Obama paused the channel as The View returned. The enthusiastic applause of the crowd left him feeling jealous.

I wonder if I could get some of them to come to my speeches? he mused silently. As his thoughts returned to reality, Whoopi Goldberg was already beginning to speak.

"...and here we have Sgt. Moffitt, the leader - or Kommandant, I should say - and best selling author of How to Pillage and Plunder in the Modern Age. Welcome to the show, Sergeant!"

More applause. The President seriously considered throwing the remote at the TV, but decided against it.

"Thank you," Sgt. Moffitt shyly replied.

"I have to say something," Whoopi went on, "It is so refreshing to see a woman in charge of a mob. Now that's something to tell your daughters about!" The crowd applauded even as the other members of the table nodded in agreement. "But I really have to ask you, Sergeant: who is to blame for all of this? Obviously, someone had to start it all. Who?"

"We only know him by his screen name, 80sarcades..." Sgt. Moffitt began.

The crowd hissed.

"...Right now, we're trying to find out who and where he is. He's the one to blame for everything. He's the one that changed all of the DVD's! If he hadn't done that then none of this would have ever happened!"

"But how did he change the DVD's?" Joy, another of the tablemates, questioned. "Mine were locked up and they were still ruined!"

"Does it matter?" Snooky-9093, another member of the mob, replied. "He's on an ego trip! Recently, we held our Papa Bear Awards for the best stories of 2010 and 80sarcades won six awards! He's arrogant, egotistical..." Her voice trailed off, trying to find the right word.

"You can add overbearing, too," the third leader, Canadian Hogan's Fan, interjected. "I mean, how can one person be such a pain in the butt?"

"That, too," Snooky finished, then smiled at CHF. "Thank you!"

"The point is," Jinzle, the fourth member, said, "if we don't chop him off at the knees now he'll come gunning for us. Soon, he'll take over the Hogan's Heroes section of Fanfiction dot net, then the world!"

At that, Barbara Walters cleared her throat. "It seems hard to believe that one man could deserve such treatment," she asked. "Don't you think that cutting him off at the knees, as you put it, is a little harsh?"

"Of course not!" Jinzle said. "But to be fair, I did sharpen my machete first..."

Obama leveled the pistol at the flatscreen TV and pulled the trigger. The blast killed the picture and left a sparking, smoking ruin hanging on the wall. Satisfied, the President gave the weapon back to the nearby Secret Service agent before turning to the nearby conference table. The Joint Chiefs of Staff stared back at him nervously; it wasn't everyday you saw the President lose his temper, much less take it out on a TV set.

"Gentlemen, our country is facing a crisis not seen since the Civil War," Obama announced. "What are my options?"

General Crane, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, spoke up first. "Sir, our options are few," he stated. "We can't fire on civilians; we're already violating the Posse Comitatus act just to contain them as is." He snorted in disgust. "I recommend that we let the riot burn itself out. To be honest, they're only supporting a show that made the Army look good despite Vietnam."

"You mean, made the Air Force look good," General Dixon, the Air Force Vice Chairman, interjected smugly. "Colonel Hogan was part of the Air Force; even that Stalag 13 camp was run by the Luftwaffe. The Air Force has no desire to take any action against people supporting its own. In that, we agree with the Army."

The four-star Army General glared at the Air Force four-star. The Army and Air Force Chiefs of Staff raised their eyebrows but said nothing. Their Navy and Marine counterparts - Admiral Hovis and General Clary, respectively - recognized a turf war when they saw one. A shared look between the military service chiefs confirmed their feelings:

We're not getting involved in this!

"General," Crane said, somewhat sarcastically, "may I remind you that the Air Force was part of the Army until 1947? Hogan was Army; its that simple. Or do you want me to connect the numbers for you?"

"Hogan was Air Force, and that's that!" General Dixon flared. "I can't believe we're having this conversation again! If the Army had been in charge at Stalag 13 they'd still be digging tunnels! Then again, those of us who soar above and beyond can think out of the box, unlike certain Army types."

"Listen, airhead," Crane spat, "anytime you want to take it outside, be my guest!"

"I'll let the older service go first," Dixon said, just as sweetly. Crane narrowed his eyes at the Vice-Chairman for a moment before he erupted.

"All right, that's it," he yelled, leaping to his feet. So did the Air Force General, followed closely by the other officers. "I'm gonna teach you the real meaning of the word Airborne-"

"That's enough!" Obama interrupted angrily. At that, all of the officers in the room reluctantly sat down. However, the two senior uniformed officers continued to send visual barbs at one another. "Right now, I need recommendations, not another battle," the Commander-in-Chief chided. "And a way out of this mess…"

The President's voice trailed off as the red phone at the head of the table rang. He walked over to the table, picked the phone up, and listened to the voice on the end of the line before nodding in silent agreement.

"Send him in," he ordered before he put the receiver down. For the first time that afternoon, Obama had a smile on his face as he addressed his military advisers.

"We may have a way out," he began. "Our guest, who'll you'll recognize, may be our best shot at defusing this crisis." Obama smiled again as the door opened. "And here he is now..."

A tall, white haired elderly man stepped into the room. All of the men at the table recognized him instantly. The tension in the room dissipated as the assorted officers greeted the newcomer. Some of them, the President noted darkly, even asked for the man's autograph.

As if he, the President, wasn't important enough!


Sgt. Moffitt, the official Kommandant of the mob, was both pleased and frustrated.

Well, that plan didn't work, she sourly thought. I would have thought that assembling a mob, announcing our intentions, and then torching a few cars, not to mention a few cities, would have flushed the man out. Instead, everyone's upset.

And we still have no idea who 80sarcades actually is!

She took another long drink of Scotch before glancing idly at the nearby TV. The announcer was sobbing about the loss of Wrigley Field in Chicago. Sgt. Moffit merely smiled.

I bet that's the last time a Chicago Cubs fan trashes the Heroes like that! There are consequences to your actions...

Just then, the Presidential Seal came into view. A beer bottle flew across the bar as President Barack Obama appeared on screen; it missed the TV entirely and crashed into the mirror behind the set instead.

"My fellow Americans..." the President began.

Another beer bottle hit the side of the TV and bounced away to shatter onto the floor. "Turn it off," a voice yelled. More voices joined in agreement, drowning out the President's words before they became audible once again.

"...and now I'd like to turn the floor over to Richard Dawson, who you may recognize..."

"Hey, that's Newkirk," a woman yelled. Cheering filled the room as the word spread outside to the other mob members. They, in turn, raced to the nearest TV sets. Fortunately, the nearby Best Buy, Walmart, and Target offered plenty of flat screens to watch the address on once the crowd smashed the glass doors down.

Meanwhile, inside the bar, the crowd was still estatic. "Turn it up!" a man shouted. "He might have something important to say!" The bartender grabbed the remote and raised the volume. Silence descended on the crowd as Dawson's voice filled the room.

"...President Obama has asked me to reach out to the mob in hopes of stopping the rampage currently affecting the country," he said, his tone steady and unwavering. "He would also like me to ask the leaders of the mob to take a step back from their misplaced violence and think about their actions."

The assembled crowd, chastened, looked away in shame. However, Dawson's next words shocked them.

"However, I can't do that."

Faintly, Obama's indignant voice was heard off screen. "That's not what we agreed upon..."

"This violence is misplaced!" Dawson said, cutting him off with a raised voice. "We need to concentrate on the real culprit! That destroyer of DVD's, 80sarcades! Fortunately, the Government has had his name and address for some time; it should be flashing at the bottom of your screen..."

The President's voice was heard again, this time furious. "All right, who leaked that?" he shouted. "And who put it on the screen? Heads are going to roll!" Dawson, of course, was only getting warmed up; his voice changed, sounding suspiciously like Winston Churchill's even as he pumped a fist in the air.

"We must find him wherever he is and beat him!" he yelled. "We must beat him on the beaches. We must beat him in the fields, and in the streets! We shall never, never surrender!"

Two Secret Service agents grabbed the former actor and attempted to pull him away. Surprisngly, he held onto the podium with his hands even as he looked into the camera, his gaze steely as he continued to rant.

"Think of the DVD's!" he shouted. "Think of my residuals! Do it for Bob Crane! We-"

His voice was cut off as the Presidential Seal appeared on screen again. A moment later, the screen went to static. Sgt. Moffitt nodded in satisfied approval before she walked outside. The crowd that gathered around her filled the square even as she climbed onto the top of a nearby car. More members of the mob flowed out of the wrecked entrances of the nearby stores.

It was time.

She grabbed her Rabble-Rouser (tm) brand megaphone from an aide and addressed the crowd. "Members of Hogan's Mob," her amplified voice began, echoing off the nearby buildings, "It's been a long and hard fight, but now victory is within our grasp. We now know where the enemy is. It's time to teach him a lesson for defiling our DVD's! Are you with me?"

The crowd let out a thunderous burst of sound. Looking down, she saw three members at the front of the mob - Sophia Villo, El Gringo Loco, and Chopstick Legend - raise their various weapons in acclaim. Sgt. Moffitt raised the megaphone again.

"ARE YOU WITH ME?" she shouted again.

This time, the roar from the assembled mob members made the nearby windows vibrate. Moffitt lowered her hand and smiled. Ah, the power, she thought.

A waving hand caught her attention; it was ColHogan, another fan fiction author. "Can we get some ice cream first?" she asked.

"HOOOOOGAN!" Moffitt yelled, shaking her left fist. "We're on a mission from Newkirk, not to satisfy your sweet tooth!"

ColHogan was unrepentant. "There are priorities, and then there are priorities," she pointed out.

"Fine," replied Moffitt, giving in, "but only if I can get some cappuccino chocolate chip..."


Next: Chapter 9 - The Trial, Part One

Special bonus: what movie reference did Sgt. Moffitt paraphrase? And which movie does it belong to? First to answer the question correctly gets star billing in the next chapter!

As always, thanks for reading; your reviews are always appreciated!