Chapter 9: It's Filthy Frank, Motherfucker!
A bonfire had been erected two miles south of Chernobyl, irradiated city. It was fifteen feet high and was mostly composed of construction-grade wood and shitty plastic bags.
High on top of this construction the bonfire splayed into a rough wooden cross, upon which, Ian Idubbbz had been tied with coarse, knotted rope. He still wore his Naruto Akatsuki cloak, but it had been ripped and torn in several places, an obvious continuity error from the previous scene. Ian looked like a visage of Jesus Christ, erected on high to die for the sins of the Omniverse, (Although, given how numerous this festering amalgam of sins were, it was unlikely that a single person could erase even a tenth of them by sacrificing themselves on the discarded remains of a tree.)
The wind blew through Ian's dirty hair and the nigger-faggot spat a mouthful of blood. He grinned a tired grin, defiant to the end.
"Forgive these cunts, Lord Chin Chin. They know not what they do…" Said Ian, blood trickling between his teeth. Down below, Dimitri, the Slavic emperor stood with his hairy arms crossed, admiring Ian's funeral pyre. He let out a low chuckle and shouted to his prisoner.
"So, chavak, are you ready to suck my dick now? I might show you mercy? We have taken your arrival as a signal to start the invasion! My men are ready! The other worlds won't know what hit them! Haha!"
Dimitri was surrounded by six of his best gopnik soldiers; all sporting white adidas combat tracksuits. They were a rough looking squad of Eastern European bastards, born and bred from the harsh radioactive wasteland, and made strong by the ionization which even now super-charged through their mutated cells.
Their blood was 97% vodka, they all carried either worn wooden baseball bats or rusted pipes, and they all wore gaudy golden bling, some rings and some neck-chains, albeit not as much as their leader Dimitri.
Even if the Gay Retard was somehow able to cut the ropes and in-capacitate the gopnik king, he would surely be murdered by the six other tough-looking slavs guarding him. There was no way out.
Down on the earth, the rest of the slavs were making their way down from the city. A crowd of one hundred gopniks, some male, some female, advanced upon the execution site, all whooping and hollering.
Their cries of blood lust were distorted by their distance, but they all shouted in the familiar dialect of stunted, bastardized Russian. Several soviet-era jeeps accelerated over a dirt mound and came thundering towards the bonfire. They raced round and round the pyre, creating a dirt track of churned up mud, much to the satisfaction of the gathered crowd. The jeeps each held a compliment of five warrior slavs some with gas masks, some without, dancing to the sound of 'Cheeki Breeki' which was blasting, synchronised through the ancient car radios.
Then Ian saw a sight that made his heart sink. Safari Man was being dragged across the vast expanse of irradiated earth. The slavs had forcibly dressed him in a new skimpy pink princess outfit and were maliciously kicking him into motion.
"Uwa! Pero pero pero pero pero, wow! *Stop! Stop this! You are all delinquent retards!*"
Ian saw it all from high up on his cross.
"No…" he whispered, tears of frustration welling in his eyes.
"Not you Safari Guy. I don't care if they burn me, but you deserve so much better. …I'm so sorry, buddy…"
Eventually the tourist was shoved in front of Dimitri who, after taking a long drag on his cigar, blew smoke into Safari Man's face.
"So, Cyka Blyat. Have you made your choice yet? Choose me or your pyre. Be mine, or you will burn."
Dimitri chuckled at his less than subtle Disney reference and his army echoed his laughter, despite knowing nothing about 'The Hunchback of Notre dame' animated movie, originally released to theatres in 1996. It seemed that the Gopnik emperor had watched more than just porn on his VHS player.
Safari Man looked up at Ian, suspended on the wooden cross. Tears fell from his slanted eyes but he tried to keep a brave face.
"Wow! Pushi-wa doko da! *I love you Ian. You are my best friend…*"
The tourist shook with fear and anger. He channelled all his energy and focused his chromosome power for one final attack. A thin white aura danced around his skin. Safari Man turned on Dimitri, who blinked with surprise. Heroic music started to play from out of nowhere.
"Safari Keek!" The tourist yelled, and he lashed his foot in the direction of Dimitri's groin. There was a dull 'smacking' sound, and when Safari Man looked down he saw that the gopnik emperor had caught his high-heeled foot in between his hands. The heroic music stopped abruptly.
"Uwa! Wow! *Oh shit! I'm fucked!*"
Safari Man tried to pull his foot away, but Dimitri held it firm. The Gopnik emperor smiled, revealing several gold fillings in his teeth.
"Wrong choice, outsider" He growled.
Then Dimitri jerked towards Safari Man and thrust his hand down the tourist's pink panties. Safari Guy screamed, terrified. There was a fleshy 'ripping' sound and Dimitri tore off Safari Man's dick with one swift movement. Poor Safari Man vomited blood and fell over onto the ground, grasping his bloody pink panties.
Ian gasped, horrified. He didn't have the strength to shout back at his executioner. All he could do was cough and whisper hoarsely.
"Safari Man.. I…I'm sorry I c…couldn't save you." He said, barely able to hold his head up.
"This! This is what you get, Western Spy!" Dimitri yelled, holding the gook's cock above his head. Safari Man's dick was yellow and shrunken. It looked suspiciously like a Cumberland sausage that had been left out in the rain. Blood flowed down Dimitri's muscular arm in a glorious stream of crimson and his Slavic army cheered at the gory sight. The celebrations had only just begun.
'Cheeki Breeki' was turned up to max volume on the jeep radios, and several gas-masked slavs began dousing the bonfire with cans of gasoline.
The hard-bass beat permeated everything in the surrounding area.
'Anu-nu-nu-nu! Cheeki Breeki Iv Damke!' It blasted, electrifying the slavs into a rave crowd.
Dimitri threw his head back and laughed, then took a couple more puffs on his cigar and threw it onto the bonfire. The wooden tower ignited in an instant and orange flames whooshed into existence.
Black, acrid smoke curled up from the base of the pyre and floated high into the air.
Ian twisted around on the cross, the heat growing more and more intense. This was the end. There was no rescue coming. The Dark Lord Chin Chin had abandoned Ian and Safari Man, choosing instead to go off on some nonsensical side-quest with a sentient network server, or something like that.
Then, suddenly, there was a 'pop' noise, followed by a crackle of static. Dimitri sensed Frank's presence before he saw him. The gopnik emperor momentarily froze in spite of the great heat of the bonfire. An enormous aura of chromosome power was emanating from just behind him. Dimitri wheeled around to face the new intruder, manifesting his own crappy, green moviemaker aura in anticipation of the first attack. But no attack came. When Dimitri turned around, there was nobody there.
"W..what?" He stammered. Dimitri shouted out a warning to his followers.
"We're not alone! The Nigger-Faggot must have backup!"
The Slavs turned to look at their leader. They stared at him quizzically, having not sensed anything for themselves.
Dimitri looked around wildly. There it was again. Someone was moving around at super-speed.
"SHUT THAT FUCKING MUSIC OFF!" Dimitri shouted. Moments later, the Slav drivers complied. The jeeps came to a halt and there was silence.
There was a 'zapping' sound and a bright flash of light. Dimitri flinched, then saw that Safari Man had vanished. His bloody, limp pasty body had disappeared from where it had fallen.
"Wh..what? What the fuck is going on! Who goes there! Show yourself!" The Slav leader roared.
Then, suddenly Francis of the filth was standing in front of the roaring bonfire, his dirty blue-checked shirt blowing about in the hot wind. Safari Man was slumped on the ground by his side, barely conscious. Frank adjusted his glasses, snorted a phlegmy breath through his nose and pointed a finger at Dimitri.
"It's Filthy Frank, Motherfucker!"