I do not own any of the internet personalities or memes presented in this story.
The Internet Police: The Will of the Internet
The Great Game, Part 2
On a desolate part of the New Mexican desert, the sun rose as it had since time immemorial. The serenity was punctured by 1950s ex-Patricians driving a vintage 1950s car through the barren landscape, playing Elvis' song Hound Dog. The four teenagers were taking a joyride without a care in the world, free from the phony elders of the world.
"Golly! I feel so free!" shouted one of the 1950s style girls excitedly
"Gee whiz! At this rate, we'll make it to the east coast in no time," exclaimed one of the 1950s style boys.
The 1950s style teenagers acted like rebels without a cause as they drove recklessly in the desert with no one in sight. That was until a 1960s hippie van covered in peace signs came prowling towards them. It was blasting 1960s music from its interior, with the sounds being torturous to the 1950s teenagers. The van's door opened revealing 1960s style hippies with tie-dyed shirts covered in peace signs. They flashed peace signs with their fingers…while firing machine guns at the 1950s teenagers.
"Machine gun-wielding hippies. What will they think of next?" commented the Angry Video Game Nerd as he drove the truck away from the two clashing cars, with the 1950s teenagers now taking out their own machine guns to fight back.
"Of all the places on Route 66, we had to encounter the loony ex-Patricians fighting it out amongst each other," said the Nostalgia Critic.
"Well it looks like we have more company," said HurricaneAubrey as she saw more vehicles emerging from the desert horizon. "What are the odds that this many ex-Patricians would converge on this desolate part of Route 66?"
"We can talk about how probability and chance are a bitch later!" shouted the Nerd. "Right now, we need to get out of here."
The Nerd drove the commercial truck away from the barrage of gunfire from the 1950s and 1960s cars, only to find himself in the vicinity of 1920s dressed gangsters in a vintage car holding Thompson submachine guns.
"Get down!" yelled the Nerd to the Critic and HurricaneAubrey.
A hail of bullets hit the truck. The Nerd responded by ramming the truck into the 1920s car in changing its course. Seeing a large cactus looming quickly in view, the Nerd pushed the 1920s car into its direction, and fortunately, the 1920s car promptly crashed into the cactus, disabling it in the process.
"That was close," said the Nerd as he drove the truck away from the car crash.
"I think you spoke too soon," said the Critic as he saw the 1960s van catch up to the truck.
The opened door of the van showed the 1960s hippies holding machine guns. They stared at the three Internet Police with extreme hostility.
"Look at how they're dressed. They are so against free love and peace," said a hippie woman.
"We'll show them how we express free love and peace like the groovy 1960s did," said the hippie man as he reloaded his machine gun.
Before the hippies could preach free love and peace in their unique way, the Nerd swerved the truck against the 1960s van, causing it to flip into the air. Not pausing to catch a glimpse of the van rolling around several times, the Nerd continued to drive quickly through the desert. He drove through a quagmire of people fighting against each other based on their preferences for different time periods. The Nerd drove past ancient Greek soldiers marching towards Revolutionary War soldiers firing muskets. HurricaneAubrey saw knights on horseback swinging their swords at their truck, but unsurprisingly, their medieval weaponry proved no match for a motorized truck. The Critic observed WWI-era biplanes engaged in a dogfight with WWII fighter planes in the sky above them.
"What a mess," said the Critic softly as he saw the flaming ruins of planes crashing onto the desert landscape.
"We just need to get out of here and get to Oklahoma City and get that third memory card," reassured HurricaneAubrey as their truck dodged the falling planes from the sky.
To their utmost horror, a multitude of helicopters and biplanes with jeeps and motorcycles attached to them joined the brawl between the ex-Patricians, and seeing that they had the words IIS emblazoned on them, the three Internet Police agents knew that Emperor George's legendary army had arrived to deal with the traitors roaming the New Mexican desert. They saw jeeps and motorcycles detached from the helicopters and biplanes, and these vehicles chased down the grounded ex-Patricians with maxim guns and rifles filled with real bullets. Meanwhile, Emperor George's helicopters and biplanes aided the ground forces with their own guns while also dealing with the aerial forces piloted by the ex-Patricians.
"So this is the new America," said the Critic sadly at the carnage taking place around them.
"Brother against brother," said the Nerd.
"Sister against sister," said HurricaneAubrey.
They then saw an IIS jeep driving next to them, and as if things couldn't get any worse, they saw that the jeep was occupied by Frank Murdoch, Roxy Harmon, and their driver. The jeep was playing Beat the Devil's Tattoo from its sound system as Frank readied the Maxim gun to fire hundreds of live bullets onto the truck.
"Oh no you don't!" shouted the Critic as he leaped out of the truck's door and onto the jeep.
The Critic instantly knocked the Maxim gun out of the IIS jeep and began wrestling with Frank over the rifle filled with real bullets. Shots were being fired from the rifle as it was being fought over by the Critic and Frank. The Nerd and HurricaneAubrey saw that Roxy was taking out a cattle prod and plunged it into the Critic's back, shocking him into submission.
"Ahhhhh!" screamed the Critic as he fell onto the jeep's floor.
Frank gave Roxy the thumbs-up when she successfully subdued the Critic. The two Internet Police agents on the truck saw with terror as Frank readied his rifle to fire the fatal shot into the Critic's body.
"Fuck you, asshole," said Frank
Frank fired the rifle… but it was empty.
"Fuck you, asshole," said the Critic as he punched Frank in the face.
In an attempt to distract the Critic as he was in a fist fight with Frank, Roxy pulled out a flamethrower and aimed it at the truck with the two other Internet Police agents on it.
"Take the wheel, HurricaneAubrey!" said the Nerd as he opened the truck door.
"What?!" screamed HurricaneAubrey as the Nerd jumped out of the truck and onto the jeep, with HurricaneAubrey barely taking control of the truck.
As a New Yorker, HurricaneAubrey had no experience driving a semi-trailer truck, let alone drive one through a battlefield filled with ancient Romans fighting against the Goths (the ones who were nonconformists and listened to rock music). She had to steer the truck away from the flames being permeated from Roxy's flamethrower as it was being fought over by Roxy and the Nerd. After the flames barely missed both the jeep and the truck, it was eventually yanked out of Roxy's hand by the Nerd. Frank saw the flamethrower in the Nerd's hand and ceased his fight with the Critic.
"Put your hands up," said the Nerd to Frank and Roxy.
Frank and Roxy placed their hands up as the Critic walked next to the Nerd on the moving jeep.
"Are you really going to kill the father of a loving family?" said Frank. "You must one sick fuck if you're willing to do that."
"Yeah. Shame on both of you sick bastards," said Roxy. "I hope you're pleased with yourselves."
"Just surrender yourselves to us and there won't be any trouble," said the Critic.
"I've got the flamethrower and you don't. What are going to do about it?" asked the Nerd.
Frank suddenly smiled as he attempted to court the Nerd back to Emperor George's side.
"You know what's bullshit," began Frank. "DVDs, public bathrooms, and pennies."
"Give me the flamethrower," said the Critic as he grabbed the flamethrower from the Nerd.
"What the..?!" began the Nerd. "Are you serious, Critic?"
"Sorry, but I can deal with hearing tirades from these Patrician jerks better than you can," said the Critic. "I'm ready for whatever they throw at me, and no matter what, I'll stick to my loyalty with the rebellion."
"The live-action Grinch, the live-action Cat in the Hat, and the CGI Lorax," said Roxy with a smug smile on her face.
HurricaneAubrey saw with shock that the Critic dropped the flamethrower onto the desert landscape. The Critic felt like the world had collapsed upon him. Seeing a window of opportunity, Frank and Roxy took out tranquilizer guns.
"Let's place them into a deep sleep and dump their worthless bodies onto the desolate wilderness," said Frank.
"And let the vultures and rats feast upon their carcasses and shit their bones out," said Roxy.
"Get back on!" screamed HurricaneAubrey as she drove the truck close to the jeep, opening the passenger door to let the Critic and Nerd in.
The Nerd carried a shell-shocked Critic on his back as he leaped for the passenger seat of the truck.
"Oh no you don't!" said Frank and Roxy as they fired repeatedly onto the Nerd as he leaped for the truck.
The Nerd successfully managed to get him and the Critic in the passenger seat, but not before having several tranquilizer darts striking his body as well as the Critic's.
"That's my girl!" said Frank excitedly.
"I learned from a good coach," said Roxy smiling at Frank, "and sacrificing several teddy bears in the process."
HurricaneAubrey saw that the Nerd and Critic had fallen unconscious after being struck by the tranquilizer darts, with several of them sticking out of their bodies like the quills of a porcupine. HurricaneAubrey was breathing heavily as she was panicking over the whole situation.
"Looks like we have backup," said Frank as he stared at an IIS helicopter flying over the truck. He began addressing HurricaneAubrey. "Now do you regret not staying loyal to Emperor George?"
"You time has ended you whore of New York," said Roxy with an enthusiastic look on her face.
HurricaneAubrey looked in the truck's mirrors and saw the IIS helicopter flying quickly towards the truck's cab where she and her two unconscious Internet Police agents were at. She saw that the helicopter was armed with a maxim gun ready to kill them all in a matter of second. With little time to waste, HurricaneAubrey performed an action that was reckless and stupid, but in these times, it was the only option left. She sped far ahead of the jeep carrying Frank and Roxy. She turned the truck's wheel with such force that the semi-trailer attached to the truck turned widely towards the direction of the jeep and the helicopter. With the semi-trailer swinging in their direction, the helicopter and jeep got out of the way. The helicopter was the luckier of the two as it dodged the semi-trailer only to be assaulted by Vikings throwing spears at it. The jeep was less fortunate as its driver swerved abruptly out of the way to avoid impact with the semi-trailer, resulting in the jeep flipping over several times. HurricaneAubrey regained control of the semi-trailer as she drove the truck away from the scene of the crash. She saw in the truck's mirror that Frank and Roxy had climbed out of the jeep's wreckage and were screaming insults towards her.
"I'll tell my daughter what a horrible role model you are!" shouted Frank.
"Fuck you! Fuck you all to hell!" screamed Roxy.
Texas. Everything was bigger in Texas. Its highways were gargantuan. Its football stadiums dwarfed all others in America. Its state capitol was taller than the U.S. Capitol building in Washington, D.C. Its cities were some of the largest in America. And its vast size covered diverse environments ranging from eastern swamp lands to the vast, empty plains of the Panhandle. And HurricaneAubrey was driving a truck through the Panhandle with the barely conscious Critic and Nerd. Having escaped the massive generational battle in New Mexico, HurricaneAubrey continued driving on Route 66 as she had a trucker hat on her head. All she saw were ghost towns, dirt roads, rusting cars, barbed wire, roaming cattle, and abandoned homes. Needing medical supplies in supporting the Critic and Nerd through being overexposed by Frank and Roxy's tranquilizer darts, HurricaneAubrey ventured through the dilapidated towns and homes across the Texas Panhandle seeking the proper medicine. Thus, she's been on the road to Oklahoma City collecting medicine to treat the Critic and the Nerd from whatever abandoned town or residence she came across. So far, the medication she obtained seemed to have stabilized the Critic and Nerd to the point that they were half-conscious and could speak in fragmented statements.
"The sun is setting," said HurricaneAubrey as she drove the truck over a part of Route 66 where shrubs were growing from the cracks embedded on the neglected highway. "Hope there's a town nearby."
She saw a weathered sign indicating that she was in Amarillo, Texas. Sure enough, Amarillo emerged on the horizon just as the sun surrendered itself to the darkness. HurricaneAubrey pulled the truck next to a local landmark known as the Cadillac Ranch. Making a makeshift camp between the truck and the artistic display of cars buried halfway in the ground, HurricaneAubrey was roasting Spam over an open fire intended to be eaten by her, the Critic, and the Nerd, of whom she dragged the latter two out of the truck and placed on sleeping bags next to her. As she ate the few pieces of Spam that were cooked to perfection, she heard the Critic and Nerd murmuring in their deep sleep.
"Dad. Go away. Trying to read Dr. Seuss' The Cat in the Hat," murmured the Critic.
"Fan boys. Don't stone me for tolerating Spider-Man 3 or the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. They're just okay. No need to call my opinion a crime against humanity," whispered the Nerd.
HurricaneAubrey saw the Nerd and Critic falling into a seemingly unconscious state, with no more words coming out of them.
"Guess I'll be saving some of the Spam for tomorrow," said HurricaneAubrey as she started eating some of the cooked Spam herself.
To her surprise, the canned Spam didn't taste as bad as she feared. However, she was concentrating more on the monumental challenge of retrieving the third memory card in Oklahoma City than on how delicious the food on the truck was. Speaking of the third memory card, HurricaneAubrey was thinking about the movie the Will of the Internet that would be shown to the world in hopes of ending the bloodshed happening in America.
"I haven't watched what Strawburry17 and JoeyGraceffa recorded on the second memory card. Let me see if what they filmed at Utopia Island and the Island of the Misfits is as compelling and persuasive as the information on the first memory card. That way, I can be absolutely sure that the completed film will change the outcome of this schism," commented HurricaneAubrey.
HurricaneAubrey inserted the second memory card into her digital device as she felt trepidation and curiosity overwhelming her. With assistance from natural and artificial lighting derived from the campfire and the device's screen respectively, HurricaneAubrey saw what Strawburry17 and JoeyGraceffa had on their memory card. Little did HurricaneAubrey knew that JoeyGraceffa and Strawburry17 would be far more effective in discrediting Emperor George and the ex-Patricians than she thought they would be, and she never anticipated the tsunami of heavy emotions that would flow out of her after watching the video. The footage started innocuously enough as Strawburry17 and JoeyGraceffa explained that they were secretly filming on Utopia Island.
"So here we are on Utopia Island," said Strawburry17 as she whispered into the camera. "We're somewhere near the American Samoa, and as you will see, we were fortunate enough to be arriving at a time when security is lower than expected, allowing us to film secretly. However, we still need to proceed with caution as this place is still guarded."
Strawburry17 shifted the camera to capture a brief glimpse of the guards watching the perimeter of the Utopia Island facility. Wearing their Pickelhaube helmets on their heads, they acted like Roman sentries keeping the barbarians in their castle-like fortress. Strawburry17 quickly handed JoeyGraceffa the camera as the guards ignored their presence on the rocky beach below as they surveyed the vast Pacific Ocean.
"So let's go right into Georgie's mad house and see what he has in store for the so-called troubled Plebeians," said JoeyGraceffa. "May the odds be ever in our favor, Strawburry17."
"You really think it's wise to refer to Emperor George as Georgie," said Strawburry17 as she walked besides JoeyGraceffa into the facility's security checkpoint, "especially seeing how those guards severely beaten up another guard for accidentally calling him King George when we were exiting the helipad."
"Georgie's just an ordinary American from Florida who worked at a petting zoo, not the prophesied Emperor of Civilization. We should refer to him by his proper title of Georgie," said JoeyGraceffa. "You need to have courage to defy him if we're going to record his misdeeds for the world to witness."
"You're right. Let's take down Georgie," said Strawburry17 with more conviction in her voice.
Strawburry17 and JoeyGraceffa gave reassuring smiles to each other as they approached the security gate. HurricaneAubrey saw that they switched off the camera and somehow managed to sneak it past the security gate. After a few moments of blackness on the screen, the camera was turned back on, with its lens seemingly embedded in the decorative pieces of the purse. Strawburry17 was holding the purse high up as she secretly filmed a typical day at Utopia Island, Emperor George's rehabilitation facility for troubled Plebeians who defied all efforts to become Patricians. Compared to what JoeyGraceffa and Strawburry17 documented at Utopia Island, the footage that the three Internet Police agents made on the first memory card appeared childish in arguing against Emperor George. HurricaneAubrey was seeing the raw and uncensored of Utopia Island. She saw Plebeians with headphones sitting in individual booths listening pleasantly to modern music filled with electronic sounds and auto-tune. But their modern bliss was interrupted by electricity pulsing through their bodies from wires attached to them, causing considerable pain to the listeners. When the same modern music was replayed into the headphones, the Plebeians in the booths had a much less favorable opinion of it, making them more inclined to whole-heartedly favor classical music.
"This is counterproductive," thought HurricaneAubrey. "In the long run, this will cause more people to despise classical music for being uncompromising and strict. What other insane ideas did Emperor George concoct?"
Delving deeper into Emperor George's mad experiment, Strawburry17 and JoeyGraceffa recorded room upon room of the concrete labyrinth that was built to imprison Plebeians, with all of them being subjected to painful procedures meant to convert them into law-abiding Patricians. There were enclosed boot camps for males undergoing the strictest exercise methods not seen since the days of Sparta, and no matter if they were young boys or old men, they were expected to fight exactly like their ancestors did regardless if they could possibly die from rupturing their organs or from sheer exhaustion.
"Come on! You're exactly the reason why you're called pussies. You might as well be women," yelled a drill sergeant who was apathetic to the young boys and elderly men collapsing in front of him. "Aren't you ashamed of not living up to the standards of your predecessors who explored continents and built empires? Don't you feel guilty for spending your time posting pointless videos on the internet instead of being masculine like your ancestors?"
JoeyGraceffa was watching the entire spectacle from an observation deck just above the race track, and it appeared that some of his former male YouTuber friends were staring back at him in disgust. Not wanting to linger any longer, JoeyGraceffa summoned Strawburry17 to follow him to another section of the Utopia Island rehabilitation facility.
"May I hold the purse," said JoeyGraceffa to Strawburry17.
"What for?" said Strawburry17 off camera.
"It will make me appear more gentlemanly," answered JoeyGraceffa, who caught a glance of a room where his other male YouTuber friends were struggling to drink tea properly and walking properly in Victorian clothing.
"Good point," said Strawburry17 as she handed the purse containing the camera to JoeyGraceffa.
With Strawburry17 now in view, the two reformed Institute scientists headed to the area of the facility where the Plebeian women were held, and they also suffered under Emperor George's conversion therapy. HurricaneAubrey saw women forced to perform traditional feminine tasks like sewing and wearing conservative dresses to exact specifications, and she recognized one of them as the Chief of the Internet Police. The Chief was preoccupied with learning such an important lesson like waving properly. The Chief was trying her hardest not to be harshly berated by a young blonde woman who was watching the Plebeian women with hawkish eyes, ignoring the fact that she was directly below a portrait of Emperor George. It was a bizarre juxtaposition that the Chief, the head of the Internet Police, was reduced to learning proper hand gestures while Emperor George, an ordinary Floridian who worked in a children's petting zoo, was now the most powerful man in America.
"You're not waving properly!" shouted the blonde Patrician woman.
The Patrician woman began measuring the dimensions of the formal dresses worn by the Plebeian women. HurricaneAubrey knew that if the dresses they sown was even one centimeter short, then they could potentially be sent to the Island of the Misfits. She didn't know what exactly was on that island, but she knew it couldn't be good. Thankfully, the blonde Patrician was satisfied as she saw Strawburry17 watching them through a glass window.
"Keep trying to wave properly," said the blonde Patrician woman as another Patrician woman entered to supervise the Plebeian women. The blonde Patrician approached Strawburry17 and smiled at her.
"Greetings Strawburry17," said the blonde Patrician. "I see that you and JoeyGraceffa are having a pleasant visit on Utopia Island."
"Of course," said JoeyGraceffa with a forced sense of joy off-camera. "This seems to be the perfect place for Plebeian men to become real men under the strict guidelines of our most glorious Emperor."
"Glad to see you're having a good time," said the blonde woman. "I'm glad that you are in a romantic relationship with Strawburry17. After all, she needs a proper man to take care of her."
"Actually…" began JoeyGraceffa before being hastily interrupted by Strawburry17.
"We're really interested in the procedures performed on the Island of the Misfits. In fact, we're heading there right now to see how Emperor George deals with the worst of the worst," said Strawburry17.
"Oh wonderful!" said the blonde Patrician followed Strawburry17 and JoeyGraceffa down a corridor that overlooked the individual living quarters of the Plebeian patients. "Let me just give you a brief introduction to what you will expect on the Island of the Misfits."
HurricaneAubrey saw that JoeyGraceffa had inadvertently turned the camera away from Strawburry17 and the blonde Patrician. The camera was focused on the living quarters of the Plebeians that was filled with antique furniture and accessories. There were some Plebeians sleeping with headphones on, no doubt being brainwashed in their sleep by Emperor George through hypnopaedia. Other Plebeians were busy trying to play classical instruments. The camera was especially focused on a brunette woman wearing an ornate and spectacular 18th century dress. She looked exceptionally beautiful and refined as she was playing Pachelbel's Canon in D on the violin with the same amount of eloquence.
"I recognize her from somewhere," said HurricaneAubrey as she ignored the information the blonde woman was giving JoeyGraceffa and Strawburry17 regarding the architecture of the Island of the Misfits facility. "She looks like… my little sister Allison!"
HurricaneAubrey gasped as she saw her sister imprisoned on Utopia Island, and if she hadn't grown up with her sister, she would have assumed that she was watching a window into the past where a smiling 18th century European aristocrat was entertaining her female friend. It appears that her sister was having the time of her life as she was playing Canon in D with heavenly grace. For some strange reason, HurricaneAubrey was smiling at her sister.
"She's probably just biding her time before being released as a Patrician," said HurricaneAubrey as she saw her sister playing the violin with gusto. "I'm proud of the fact that my sister is able to resist her captives by pretending to be converted, and once she's released from Utopia Island, she'll be back to fight against Emperor George like before."
Allison had finished playing Canon in D on the violin. HurricaneAubrey hoped that the female Patrician who had watched her would allow Allison to be set free from Utopia Island as a full Patrician (though Allison would still remain a rebel against Emperor George in private). Allison had an adorable smile on her face, perhaps a sign that she would finally be released from Utopia Island and return back to her rebellion faction. The female Patrician who listened to her performance spoke at last.
"That was the worst rendition of Pachelbel's masterpiece that I ever had the misfortune to listen to," said the female Patrician with brute honesty.
"What?!" said HurricaneAubrey
HurricaneAubrey was flabbergasted by how the female Patrician was now criticizing the performance for such minute details like how Allison's hair was slightly bent and how she played one of the quarter notes as a half note. However, Allison maintained her smile as she heard complaint after complaint being thrown at her by the female Patrician.
"You are this close to being sent to the Island of the Misfits," said the female Patrician holding her fingers apart by millimeters. "So you better get your act together and become a true Patrician woman."
The brunette female Patrician exited Allison's room, with Allison still smiling nevertheless.
"Don't worry little sister. You just need to practice a little harder if you're going to get out of this awful place and rejoin me in rebelling against Emperor George," said HurricaneAubrey encouragingly.
The smiling woman that was HurricaneAubrey's little sister fell to the floor and wept loudly.
"Why?! Why must I be such a horrible girl who can't play Pachelbel's masterpiece properly?! What will my sister think of me when I have desecrated his work?" cried Allison as she stared at a portrait of Emperor George placed on a miniature altar.
"It's okay! It's okay!" shouted HurricaneAubrey in vain as her little sister couldn't hear her.
"I only want to see my big sis again, and Emperor George is the one to reunite us again," said Allison softly. "I was a fool in thinking that change was wonderful. Why is change wonderful if it resulted in this impure and corrupt world? What am I, who took a picture of herself in garnish clothes within a lavatory, to judge whether or not this world is worth living in? Only Emperor George can determine that, and he has the ultimate authority on how we live our lives. And he has deemed it necessary for me to be an uncivilized harlot unworthy of my sister. He's absolutely right."
Trembling, HurricaneAubrey watched as her little sister try to play Canon in D with a forced smile on her face. It wasn't long before her true feelings of shame and guilt overwhelmed Allison as she promptly broke the strings of her violin through lack of concentration. Filled with anger, Allison hurled the violin, accidently hitting the portrait of Emperor George.
"Oh no!" screamed Allison as she rushed to repair the damage done to both the violin and Emperor George's portrait. "Please forgive me for my transgressions against you both now and in the past."
There were footsteps approaching Allison's room as she tried to restore her room back to its natural state of order. The brunette female Patrician entered into the room just as Allison had placed Emperor George's portrait back to its proper place on the altar.
"What's going on in here?" asked the brunette female Patrician. "Were you calling out to Emperor George for forgiveness for your Plebeian past?"
"Yes," said Allison.
HurricaneAubrey saw that Allison's hands were scarred from what appeared to be the result of pinching herself heavily in punishing herself for her crimes against Emperor George. The brunette female Patrician noticed her hands and simply shrugged her shoulders.
"Good," said the brunette female Patrician as she left the room without another word.
Allison collapsed onto the floor as she unfurled her dress' sleeve, exposing one of her arms. HurricaneAubrey was horrified that her little sister had self-inflicted scratches hidden beneath her exquisite dress.
"Please don't send me to the Island of the Misfits, Emperor George. I can change and become a Patrician like I was meant to be. That way, I can show respect to the great classical musicians who came before me. I want my sister to love me again, and it's only by going on the same path as my sister that I can earn her trust again. It's what she wanted from me," said Allison as she started scratching her arm.
"Now let me tell you the main procedure performed on the Island of the Misfits," said the blonde Patrician to Strawburry17 and JoeyGraceffa after explaining the architecture of the main facility on the island. "We perform lobotomies in purging any divergent thoughts from the Plebeian brains. It's such a wonderful thought to know that their troubled minds will finally be cured of any impulse to commit unspeakable acts against Emperor George."
"It's an unorthodox method," said Strawburry17.
"Emperor George is a one of a kind man," replied JoeyGraceffa.
"It's nightmarish," commented HurricaneAubrey as she knew that her little sister had every reason to be afraid to be sent to the Island of the Misfits.
"Many praises to our Emperor of the civilized western world," said the blonde Patrician. "I must be off. Don't forget to have a look at the plastic surgery procedure Emperor George was gracious enough to include on the Island of the Misfits. Emperor George recognized that appearance plays a large role in becoming civilized. You would think the Plebeians would be grateful to receive a free plastic surgery operation to alter their vocal cords to match Emperor George's masculine tones and to blend in better in western society. It's common sense that integration is the best policy in creating a utopian world, and it would be much easier if the Mexican, the Oriental, and the Blackamoor Plebeians sent to the Island of the Misfits were grateful to Emperor George in giving them surgical alterations to help them become more like the flawless westerners that brought about positive change to the world."
"Do you think I need any plastic surgery to become more like a westernized Patrician?" asked Strawburry17 out of curiosity.
"Of course not. You haven't been plagued by the flaws found in non-western societies. Looking at you, I obviously don't detect the drug-dealing and rapist nature of the Mexicans inherited by their bloodthirsty Aztec ancestors. Anyway, I hope you and JoeyGraceffa, both pure-westerners, like what you see on the Island of the Misfits and convince the Plebeians that Emperor George is doing this for their own good. I bid you farewell for now," said the blonde Patrician.
With the blonde Patrician out of sight, Strawburry17 spoke softly to JoeyGraceffa.
"I'm half-Mexican," said Strawburry17 uncomfortably.
"Don't feel bad about it. In truth, I'm really half a man by their definition," said JoeyGraceffa.
Strawburry17 and JoeyGraceffa began their journey to the Island of the Misfits, but not before unintentionally recording one last message from Allison.
"Maybe I deserve to go the Island of the Misfits. Maybe it's for the best for my sister and me," said Allison as she began combing her long hair.
"No. No. No," said HurricaneAubrey as she turned off her portable device.
Without warning, HurricaneAubrey approached Cadillac Ranch's collection of partly submerged cars and noticed a spray can on the ground. Grabbing it, she sprayed messages on the already graffitied cars. She wrote statements like Creativity is the Will of the Internet and Diversity is the Essence of Life. HurricaneAubrey gazed upon Cadillac Ranch and felt satisfied for contributing her part in rebelling against Emperor George. But remembering her little sister being brainwashed and tortured on Utopia Island and the high possibility of her being converted even further on the Island of the Misfits, HurricaneAubrey wanted to secure her place in the rebellion and never go back to being the same Patrician woman she was that led to her sister's newfound devotion to Emperor George. HurricaneAubrey came back to the truck and found a pair of scissors. She ran back to the Cadillac Ranch with a determined look on her face. Defying the traditional conventions of femininity, she immediately cut off a large portion of her long hair. She was left with a bob cut hair style, a far cry from the long and flowing conservative hair her little sister had on Utopia Island.
"I'm going to save you little sister no matter what," said HurricaneAubrey, who hadn't noticed the Critic and Nerd staring at her in admiration.
Oklahoma. The state where the wind comes sweeping down the plain, and the waving wheat can sure smell sweet when the wind comes right behind the rain. Those very words were heard on the radio as HurricaneAubrey drove the truck across the plains of Oklahoma. As HurricaneAubrey listened to how Oklahoma was grand, fine, and okay as characterized by Rodgers and Hammerstein, she reflected on how Oklahoma was not doing okay at the moment considering what she encountered on Route 66. She realized that the state was a battleground for quite some time as she passed by evidence of Patricians and ex-Patricians clashing against each other with innocent Oklahomans caught in the middle. She saw gas stations and oil wells on fire. There were crashed Patrician helicopters and jeeps right next to damaged cannons, bow and arrows, and half-destroyed wagons. And worst of all, there were periodic dust storms plaguing Oklahoma not seen since the 1930s, the result of a foolish attempt by some nostalgic Oklahomans to return to the old-fashioned farming that resulted in the first Dust Bowl. These dust storms forced HurricaneAubrey to drive at a snail's pace to avoid any accidents on the road. Luckily, she hadn't encountered these pestilences of humanity's shortsightedness for quite some time as she raced to Oklahoma City.
"My little sister. The courageous rebel has fallen victim to Emperor George's venomous charms," said HurricaneAubrey who turned off the radio with one hand. "With my sister surrendering to him, I wonder if anyone will be able to stand up to him. After all, one of our resistance members betrayed and sold us out, leading to the present situation I am in now. I bet that member was also swayed by Emperor George's power of persuasion, and has also convinced other members of rebellion to follow the easy path of becoming a Patrician."
HurricaneAubrey rubbed her hand through her shortened hair, a sign of her total commitment to the resistance against the Patricians and ex-Patricians.
"Maybe I'm being too pessimistic. It's also possible that the rebel members simply decided to give up and go into hiding after seeing how formidable Emperor George is. With the monumental challenges facing America right now, I wouldn't be surprised if I'm the only who is fighting against the Emperor whose former empire was a petting zoo," said HurricaneAubrey.
"I think you're forgetting the old man back here," said a voice behind HurricaneAubrey.
HurricaneAubrey looked behind her as she saw the Critic in a better shape than she had seen him in the past few days.
"Isn't it ironic that I, a German, and you, an Italian, are trying to restore freedom and diversity to America? Considering that Germany and Italy were part of the Axis Powers whose goal was to spread intolerance and authoritarianism during World War II, it seems paradoxical that Americans like Emperor George would sacrifice liberty to gain security, especially since they fought for liberty during the Second World War against the Germans and the Italians," spoke the Critic.
"But what about me?" commented the Nerd, also in a better state than before. "You talk about how you and HurricaneAubrey are trying to save America from destroying itself, and I noticed you haven't bothered including me in the conversation."
"Well what race are you? It would either make sense or be extremely ironic based on the dilemma we're in," said the Critic.
"Does it even matter what ethnicity I am? We're all human after all," said the Nerd. "Let's just say that we're all Americans trying to save our country from a new civil war, and it doesn't matter if we're Caucasian, Asian, African, Hispanic, or Arabic as long as we're fighting for the right reasons."
"You're absolutely right, and you speak quite eloquently for someone who has been tranquilized several times," said the Critic.
"I take it you watched me view the footage that Strawburry17 and JoeyGraceffa shot at Utopia Island since you know about the plastic surgery procedure performed on the Island of the Misfits to change the Plebeians' races," said HurricaneAubrey.
"We heard the important parts we needed to know," said the Nerd. "Considering that Emperor George is utilizing lobotomies and forcing plastic surgeries onto people against their will, I don't think people will be inclined to follow Emperor George any longer if they were shown the secret footage."
"Let's not forget the power of nostalgia and the good old days," said HurricaneAubrey. "These two forces have taken my sister and many other people. Why is nostalgia such a powerful weapon on the internet and the real world? How can we defeat nostalgia?"
"Who do you call to defeat nostalgia? Me. Why do you think I'm called the Nostalgia Critic? To expose uncomfortable truths about the past that nobody wants to bring up," said the Critic.
"I'll admit that I sometimes forget that your full title is the Nostalgia Critic. When I call you critic, I seem to only focus on your criticism of many aspects of life and not specifically on past media," said HurricaneAubrey.
"Don't worry. I sometimes forget the nostalgia part of my title," said the Critic. "I can safely assume that your chosen title is HurricaneAubrey because you see yourself as powerful as a hurricane."
"Correct," said HurricaneAubrey. "And I can say that the Nerd always calls himself the Angry Video Game Nerd because he gets angry when playing bad video games."
"Not quite. I first referred to myself as the Angry Nintendo Nerd for reviewing horrible Nintendo games of the past, but since the name Nintendo was copyrighted, I decided to call myself the Angry Video Game Nerd so I would have the opportunity to tackle the bad video games of the past from other companies besides Nintendo. The past is full of terrible video games," said the Nerd.
"But how come we succumbed to the temptations of nostalgia and the good old days to the point we followed a mad man like Emperor George?" asked HurricaneAubrey.
"Do you know what road we're on?" questioned the Critic.
"Route 66 heading to Oklahoma City to retrieve the third memory card of the film," said HurricaneAubrey. "What does that have to do with nostalgia and the good old days?"
"Everything," said the Critic. "Route 66 is considered to be the mother road of America. I, like you, saw the desolate homes, motels, cars, gas stations, diners, and towns on this boulevard of broken dreams. When Route 66 first opened up, Americans saw an opportunity to open their own businesses along this elongated road from Chicago to Los Angeles. The abandoned towns you saw on the road were once thriving with full capacity motels and diners."
"When you were searching through these run-down homes and businesses, did you visualize the men, women, and children that lived in these dwellings, HurricaneAubrey?" questioned the Nerd.
"I was occupied with getting the proper medication for you and the Critic. I didn't have the time to mentally time travel," admitted HurricaneAubrey.
"That's a shame but understandable," said the Critic.
"You could have added footage of Route 66 to the movie in order to contribute even more evidence against Emperor George and the ex-Patricians," said the Nerd.
HurricaneAubrey knew that there was no point in getting upset at this oversight. Though she felt disappointment within herself that she could've provided a look into Route 66 and use it was proof against Emperor George's ideology. However, she thought she could salvage something from her experience on Route 66.
"For many Americans, Route 66 was their home and their livelihood. They raised families and made a living from the highway. In fact, I can imagine birthdays, weddings, and other happy memories happening on Route 66. When the Interstate Highway System arrived, Route 66 fell into disarray as people switched to the new Interstate as a means of getting better mileage," explained HurricaneAubrey. "I imagine it must have been frustrating for the residents of Route 66 to know that their entire lives have been destroyed because people wanted to save a few minutes of driving, and they expressed their frustrations in two different ways. One was that they created a nostalgic version of Route 66 without any flaws and immediately vilified the Interstate without recognizing its benefits. I'm sorry if I sound dismissive for the pains the inhabitants of Route 66 went through."
"Don't be," said the Critic. "I myself am guilty of glorifying my personal nostalgia at the expense of the present. I fondly remember reading Dr. Seuss' books in my childhood, and I was aghast at how modern filmmakers twisted Dr. Seuss' simple and timeless stories through their hip and crude live-action versions of the great author's books. For a long time, I believed that modern entertainment only pandered to the lowest common denominator and could never match the media of the past. I know better now. Modern media is many times more creative and thought-provoking than I imagined, with my complete dismissal of it based on a few live-action versions of Dr. Seuss' works being narrow-minded."
"Thank you, Critic," said HurricaneAubrey.
"What about the second way the Americans of Route 66 dealt with their troubles with the Interstate?" asked the Nerd.
"Based on several observations, I can assume that several Route 66 residents were ashamed that they lived in the time of the Interstate, wishing they could go back to a time when Americana was not lost. I believe they felt weak and vulnerable to have been defeated by the Interstate. Personally, I think the time of the Oregon Trail would be a time period they would've assumed to be the good old days. They wanted to be Americans who traveled westward by walking and by oxen-driven wagons, methods they considered more worthy than going by cars and paved roads," said HurricaneAubrey. Her expression then became downtrodden. "And my sister wholeheartedly believes that she is unworthy due to her previous defense of modern music over the classics. She is now on Utopia Island trying to redeem herself through self-punishment and a fanatical devotion to classical music, trying to make amends for her scandalous relationships with modern music."
The Critic and the Nerd tried to give their condolences to HurricaneAubrey's plight, but HurricaneAubrey interrupted them.
"Don't worry. I'll make sure that Emperor George pays for what he has done to my sister and to all the people he guilt-tripped into following his ill-conceived ideas on the good old days. Let's take down Emperor George," said HurricaneAubrey
"That's the spirit," said the Critic and the Nerd simultaneously.
Oklahoma was nicknamed the Sooner State. The three Internet Police agents eating hot dogs wondered why they didn't they arrived in Oklahoma City sooner. On the other hand, it appeared that they reached Oklahoma City sooner than anyone else as the city looked entirely deserted. The whole city looked like a war zone as the three Internet Police agents headed to the National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum where the Greendale members said they were staying at. With the Critic and the Nerd still needing rest, HurricaneAubrey ran into the museum and saw that the place had been ransacked.
"What happened here?" thought HurricaneAubrey as she passed by the broken Native American artifacts.
The magnificent museum looked to have been ransacked several times, with the meticulous exhibits dedicated to the cowboys, Native Americans, and western painters treated with little respect. As HurricaneAubrey combed through the wreckage, she soon figured out that the Greendale members were absent from the museum.
"What now?" thought HurricaneAubrey as she searched the last of the ruined exhibits.
Whoever ruined the museum did a thorough job of it, and it would take weeks for HurricaneAubrey to piece together what exactly happened here and where the Greendale members were. To her, the students and faculty of Greendale Community College were like family, and they had sacrificed so much in helping the three Internet Police agents. She thought about the Band of Siblings, who meant the most to her. She recalled how Magnitude and Todd died in the Second War, and how Shirley and Troy were so traumatized by the experience that they went into self-exile to contemplate the state of the world (though Troy was generous enough to donate money to fund the movie The Will of the Internet). Only she, the Nerd, Abed, and Rachel were left in the Band of Siblings dedicated to fighting Emperor George's army and the ex-Patricians.
"I guess what remains of the Band of Siblings are an aspiring artist, a video gamer, an amateur filmmaker, and a coat check girl," said HurricaneAubrey with a sad smile. "Coat check girl." Her smile became wider. "That's it! They probably haven't completely destroyed the coatroom."
HurricaneAubrey rushed to the museum's coatroom and saw that it was intact. She searched the coats and eventually found one with a portable recording device inside its pocket. Taking out the device, HurricaneAubrey began playing it.
"This is Rachel! Must make this brief. They found us. Frank and Roxy are rounding up all the Greendale members. They got Abed, and he has the memory card. Luckily, they don't know about the memory card. A rebel, who's a fan of the 1960s, betrayed us. That's how they located us. I heard they're taking us to St. Louis, Missouri," said Rachel in a frantic voice. HurricaneAubrey heard that footsteps were becoming louder. "They're coming! If anyone from the Band of Siblings is listening to this, I advise you to join the Confederate States of America. Just do it. It may seem counter intuitive to our cause, but do it. I don't know how much longer I, Abed, or any of the Greendale members have in resisting Emperor George's temptations. Just join the Confederacy. Good luck."
HurricaneAubrey then heard the busting of the coatroom's door, which was the point when the recording was stopped. Presumably, Rachel had placed the device into the coat's pocket just before being captured by Emperor George's army, and they neglected to search the coatroom systematically, preferring to do wanton destruction on the main exhibits.
"So the third memory card is in St. Louis," said HurricaneAubrey. "As a dedicated soldier of the Band of Siblings, I have a moral obligation to rescue Abed, Rachel, and their friends from the clutches of Emperor George. What did Rachel mean when she said 'join the Confederacy'?"
She placed the recorder into her pocket as the sounds of sirens rang outside.
"Another battle is happening between the ex-Patricians," said a woman's voice outside.
"Son of a buck," said a man's voice outside. "They're going to be snatching our children and forcing them to fight for them after wrecking our city for the hundredth time."
With the Critic and Nerd unprotected in the truck, HurricaneAubrey rushed back to the truck and started the engine, and just in time too as cowboys on horseback started pursuing the truck.
"We've got company!" said the Nerd
"I know that!" shouted HurricaneAubrey.
The cowboys on horseback were shooting wildly at the truck with their pistols. Fortunately, they missed the truck entirely. HurricaneAubrey drove the truck onto the highway.
"We need to get back onto Route 66. We must drive directly to St. Louis to rescue the Greendale members and retrieve that third memory card!" shouted HurricaneAubrey as she searched for a sign leading to the old Route 66.
"We've got more company!" yelled the Critic.
Ford Pintos began converging towards the truck the three Internet Police agents were occupying.
"Looks like disco has returned from the dead," commented the Critic.
"What about the 1930s?" said the Nerd. "I see the 1930s coming up from the rear."
HurricaneAubrey saw the 1930s had caught up to the 1970s and their truck as she saw cars filled with people dressed up like 1930s Okies migrating from the Dust Bowl. With the cowboys of the Old West also riding their horses onto the highway, gunfire was exchanged between the three factions, with the truck being caught in the crossfire.
"At least we're near Route 66," said HurricaneAubrey who saw the sign leading to the old highway. "We'll be out of here in one piece."
All of a sudden, fiery explosions erupted all over the highway. The three Internet Police agents saw that the 1970s ex-Patricians who ran out bullets rammed their Ford Pintos into the Old Western cowboys and 1930s Okies in a kamikaze fashion, igniting both the Pintos and their intended targets.
"Let's get the hell out of Oklahoma City!" exclaimed the Nerd.
Avoiding the horde of Ford Pintos aiming to ignite the truck on fire, HurricaneAubrey drove the truck off the highway and onto Route 66. Out of the main city, the three Internet Police agents saw they were in the land of pumpjacks and oil derricks.
"We made it," said HurricaneAubrey.
"You spoke too soon," said the Nerd. "I hear a terrible noise off in the distance."
HurricaneAubrey looked at the truck's mirror anticipating another dust storm approaching. But it was something much worse. Ford Pintos playing hit 1970s songs from the musical Mamma Mia! And one of them was driven by the man HurricaneAubrey knew was an ABBA fan and Bob Smith's murderer: Norman Albert. She saw her former boss driving his Ford Pinto, and even in the Oklahoman landscape, he recognized his former employee from his greeting card company.
"Aubrey, come out to play!" shrieked Norman as he tapped glass bottles against each other with one hand. He then spoke into a remote speaker microphone. "Let's bring back disco once and for all."
Right on cue, the Ford Pintos started playing the Bee Gees' Stayin' Alive as cowboys were shot off their horses and cars from both the 1930s and 1970s crashed into the oil derricks and each other, causing massive fireballs in the process.
"This music feels so wrong and yet so right," said the Critic with a weak smile.
"HurricaneAubrey. You need to help us stay alive. We're counting on you," said the Nerd.
"I'm on it!" said HurricaneAubrey with a determined look on her face.
HurricaneAubrey did her best to ignore Norman singing along to Stayin' Alive as a 1930s group armed with rifles drove up to her.
"This is a monstrosity," said the 1930s family in reference to the truck HurricaneAubrey was driving. "Let's take it out."
HurricaneAubrey rammed the 1930s car with the truck's semi-trailer, causing the 1930s car to steer out of the way.
"That was close," said HurricaneAubrey.
HurricaneAubrey swerved the truck to avoid hitting the oil derricks and pumpjacks, a feat made infinitely difficult when dealing with suicidal 1970s ex-Patricians driving their modified Ford Pintos.
"Let's show these lazy, entitled narcissists who the real Americans are!" shouted Norman into his microphone. "Let's put on some appropriate music for our final victory over these ungrateful bastards!"
There was a crescendo of music coming from the Ford Pintos, but oddly enough, they were not the greatest hits from the 1970s. They were playing Wagner's Ride of the Valkyries as they were converging onto the truck in a joint kamikaze effort to destroy it. HurricaneAubrey thought things couldn't have been worse. Lo and behold, a gargantuan dust storm was roaring towards them, and it quickly obscured HurricaneAubrey's view. Mustering all of their strength, the Nerd and the Critic climbed into the passenger seat as they attempted to help HurricaneAubrey navigate around the Ford Pintos and oil equipment in a hurricane of dust.
"Left!" shouted the Critic.
"Right!" yelled the Nerd.
"Right!" screamed the Critic.
"Left!" urged the Nerd.
"Enough! I've got this!" exclaimed HurricaneAubrey as she drove the truck at the fastest speed possible.
The Ford Pintos responded to the truck's increase in speed by accelerating after it. As the Pintos caught up to the truck, they drove en masse towards it to ignite it on fire. Unfortunately for the 1970s ex-Patricians, HurricaneAubrey immediately drove the truck in reverse, avoiding the Pintos in the front as they crashed into each other. With the Pintos exploding in front of them, the Nerd and the Critic were glad that the truck was being driven in reverse. That was before they were rattled by an explosion. The Nerd and the Critic looked into the truck's mirror and saw that the semi-trailer was on fire, the result of being struck by kamikaze Pintos.
"Not to worry," said HurricaneAubrey with a strangely cheery smile on her face as drove the truck forward again. "I knew that would happen. Now one of you should take the wheel."
"Why?" asked the Nerd and Critic.
"Because I have a meeting with my former boss," said HurricaneAubrey as she opened the truck's door, with dust pouring into it.
"Are you crazy?!" shouted the Critic.
"Any more crazy than the two of us?" commented the Nerd.
With the Nerd taking control of the truck, HurricaneAubrey climbed the side of the truck to the connector. Fighting her way through the dust blowing around her, HurricaneAubrey started to detach the semi-trailer from the truck's cab when she saw Norman driving right up to the truck with a megaphone in his hand.
"You know, I really should kill you just like I did with Bobby back in Chicago. You should have been there when I threw him out for killing disco. Your generation really doesn't know how to respect your elders," said Norman as he steered his Pinto towards her.
"Respect this!" shouted HurricaneAubrey. "Nerd! Step on it!"
The Nerd obeyed and drove faster. HurricaneAubrey successfully managed to disconnect the semi-trailer from the truck's cab. The semi-trailer crashed into Norman's Pinto, with the end result being another explosion. HurricaneAubrey saw what remains of her former boss' car and returned back into the truck's cab. Having won the battle against the ex-Patricians, the three Internet Police agents drove off with their now trailer-less truck through the raging dust storm. They passed right by a 1930s family whose car was stuck.
"Grandfather. Why did we have to intentionally cause another dust bowl by returning to traditional farming methods?" questioned the 1930s boy.
"Grandson. Back in my day, we ate, drank, and breathed this dust. Your generation is weak and spoiled. Dust storms made me strong when I was your age. So stop complaining and just put some strength into getting this car out of the ditch," said the exasperated grandfather.
Only 13 miles of Route 66 passed through Kansas, and as the three Internet Police agents drove the truck towards the Missouri border, the Critic and Nerd, who were now fully recovered from being hit by several tranquilizer darts, were talking as the former was driving the truck.
"We'll be only in Kansas for a few minutes. Did you know that Kansas is considered the starting point of the American Civil War due to anti-slavery Northerners and pro-slavery Southerners battling each other over making Kansas a free or slave state?" stated the Critic.
"So that's where the name Bleeding Kansas came from," said the Nerd. "These days, it's not so much Bleeding Kansas as Bleeding America with all these ex-Patrician factions fighting against Emperor George and the so-called Plebeians in establishing an America of their own image."
"Speaking of Bleeding Kansas and Bleeding America, what did Rachel mean when she said for us to join the Confederacy?" asked the Critic with a stumped expression on his face.
The Critic and the Nerd were thinking about the phrase join the Confederacy as HurricaneAubrey was now viewing the actual footage shot by Strawburry17 and JoeyGraceffa on the Island of the Misfits, and it was as terrible as she expected as she saw the mandatory plastic surgeries and lobotomies performed on the innocent Plebeians. The Critic drove pass several billboards signs denouncing Colonel Sanders and the Second Confederate Army as traitors. The sponsors of the billboard were members of the Old Confederate Army, ex-Patricians who only used Civil War era technology and attire. As the voice of the true Confederate States of America, the Old Confederate Army bragged about how they made huge gains in Missouri, a border state in the Civil War that will finally be a part of the CSA.
"That's it! Rachel wants us to disguise ourselves as Old Confederate soldiers and rescue them in St. Louis under the cover of the Old Confederate Army," said the Critic.
"You must be kidding me," said the Nerd. "Can't we wait for support from our allies before going to St. Louis?
"We don't even know if there's anyone but us rebelling against Emperor George and all the ex-Patricians," said the Critic. "We already know there's a mole who has sold us out. We can't trust anyone but ourselves. Isn't that right, HurricaneAubrey?"
HurricaneAubrey looked up from her digital device playing the footage on the second memory card.
"That's right," said HurricaneAubrey. "We can't trust anyone now but the Greendale gang and ourselves after this mole betrayed us and led to Strawburry17 and JoeyGraceffa probably being sent to Utopia Island. And I pray that they and my sister won't be sliced and lobotomized under Emperor George's orders."
"I see that you have taken your sister's capture very personally," said the Critic. "That's why you cut your hair and fought so valiantly against those 1970s ruffians."
"Now that the Critic and I are fully recovered, we will be behind you in taking down Emperor George. It doesn't matter if we are the only three rebels in the world, we are going to resist that son of a bitch," said the Nerd proudly.
"Thanks," said HurricaneAubrey.
The three Internet Police agents expressed radiant smiles as they crossed into Missouri. But their smiles were replaced with a sense of dread. They were heading into hostile territory. They had a dwindling supply of allies. They were going to join a group of wide-eyed Confederate fans in a desperate attempt to rescue their friends who might or might not have joined the dark side. They then had to convince all of America to reject Emperor George and all the ex-Patricians through one film. The odds were against them. Nevertheless, the three Internet Police agents continued on into Missouri regardless of the insurmountable challenge ahead of them.
Please review this story to provide me some advice on improving it.