Author's Notes:
I recently saw the series finale of Sheep in the Big City. Shocked? So was I. The series ended with...

WARNING!!! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

AREN'T YOU LISTENING?! I SAID "SPOILERS AHEAD!!!"

OKAY, I WARNED YOU...

...the Narrator being trapped by Sheep, who was actually a villan who, in collaboration with the entire cast, had set up the show as a ruse to lure him into being used as the power source for a Narrator-powered ray gun. Somewhat original, yes, but also contrived, unsatisfying, and curiously depressing. After seeing it, I felt downright cheated. I'm writing this for thee reasons: to get it out of my system, to finally introduce some fan-created characters I've had in my head for the longest time (intended for an entirely different continuity, so brace yourselves), and because from the planning stage, I knew it would be top-choice bot fodder.

Sheep in the Big City and all related characters are copyright Cartoon Network and Curious Pictures.

Rob Schmidt, Jim Watson, Antonio Guevara, and Leroy are my property, although I doubt anybody else will want them after reading this.

Perfect Dark is copyright Nintendo and Rareware. (Again, brace yourselves...)

This story is rated FANFIC-R for excessive violence and adult language.

Feel free to send me flames at bilica@prodigy.net. I take full responsibility.

I can delay no longer, here it comes...

SHEEP IN THE BIG CITY: THE FINALE'S FINALE
Featuring the CI Motley!*
by The West Virginian(soon to be known as Alan Smithee)

*Yes, It's a stupid name. I know.

(Our story begins where the finale left off. The Narrator is stuck in the Narrator-powered raygun, while Sheep laughs evilly and all the other characters stand around them.)
NARRATOR: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
SHEEP: Scream all you want, Narrator! Nobody can save you now!

(As if on cue, a massive hole is made in the wall. As the dust clears, a robot resembling the Plot Device, but bright red, is standing in the hole.)
PLOT DEVICE: Oh no! It's my good twin, the Bullshit Detector!
B.S. DETECTOR: Narrator, I've been helping you from behind the scenes ever since the pilot, and now you forget me! What's going through your head? Not only is this a conspiracy like this inpossible to keep totally under wraps, but you're a narrator! You can NARRATE your way out of this!
NARRATOR: Hey, that's right! "Just when thhings look their bleakest for the poor guy, along comes..." uh, uh...I know! "A highly-trained assault team to rescue him!"

(With a resounding crash, a futuristic aircraft resembling a cargo plane bursts through the wall, crushing the Bullshit Detector. A door in the side opens, and Rob Schmidt and Jim Watson step out. Rob is brown-haired man in his early twenties, wearing a CI agent uniform, and holding an AR34. Jim is a taller, older-looking, black man with very short hair and a goatee. He's holding a shotgun and wearing kevlar armor.)
JIM: Party's over, Mutton-Boy! (cocks his shotgun Bruce Campbell-style)
ROB: Why'd you do it, Sheep? Why'd you turn your back on this show? Your show made so many people laugh! It brought joy to many a darkened heart! It discovered penicillin!
JIM: That was Alec Fleming.
ROB: Only if you believe the lying bastards on the Nobel Prize Committee.
SHEEP: You ignorant fools! This has nothing to do with this mere series alone! It extends all the way to the most self-absorbed, tyrannical ruler in the world!
JIM: That narrows it down to about 200 people.
SHEEP: Oh, okay...it's Scooby-Doo, president-for-life of Cartoon Network! He wanted us out of the way so he could get another time slot, so we struck a deal. We end the show and give Scooby our time slot, and he gives us a seat of power once the Network becomes a 24/7 Scooby marathon! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
(Zoom in on Rob's eye as he pictures Scooby consuming the time slots of Outlaw Star, Space Ghost: Coast To Coast, and Animaniacs. Zoom out as he aims his rifle at Sheep, and expression of unbridled fury and hatred on his face.)
ROB: (firing on Sheep)NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO... (The rest of the cast bum-rushes Rob and Jim. Jim starts firing his shotgun at cast members left and right, while Rob keeps his attention focused on the already-dead Sheep.)
ROB: ...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! (stops firing, takes a deep breath, and resumes) NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO,,,
JIM: Aw damn, he's vapor-locked! (pulls out a small walkie-talkie) We need backup! Get out here, guys!
(Antonio Guevara and Leroy step out of the aircraft. Antonio is Hispanic, surprise, surprise, and has medium-length hair and a moustache. He's wearing a business suit sans jacket, and holding a rocket launcher. Leroy is a nondescript Maian, holding a Callisto.)
ANTONIO: What's up with Rob?
LEROY: I haven't seen him that upset since he heard rumors about a sequel to Conker's Bad Fur Day.
JIM: (shoots someone else in the face) Would you mind hauling ass over here and helping me out?
NARRATOR: And would you mind getting me out of this contrived raygun?!
ANTONIO: Ask and ye shall recieve! (launches a rocket at the raygun, destroying it and leaving the Narrator intact) Hm. How 'bout that.
(Cut to a four-way split-screen showing each member of the CI Motley firing their respective weapons. AFter about fifteen seconds, everybody save for the Motley and the Narrator lays dead.)
LEROY: Glad that's over with.
ANTONIO: (panting heavily) I've got an ache in my side and I've lost my freshness.
NARRATOR: And so, the CI Motley has demonstrated a fine example of better living through superior firepower! But what about Rob?
ROB: (still aiming his gun at Sheep, even though he's clearly out of ammo) ...OOOOOOOOOOOOO! (deep breath) NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO...(the other members of the Motley gather around him)
JIM: Rob?
ANTONIO: (snapping his fingers in front of Rob's eyes) Snap out of it, Rob!
LEROY: You're creeping us out, Rob.
ROB: ...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO--
JIM: (grabs Rob's gun)ROB!!!
ROB: What?
JIM: I think you got him.
ANTONIO: (looking at Sheep's remains) I'll say you got him. (turns green) Anybody got a barf bag?
LEROY: (looks around) Here, use this. (hands General Specific's hat to Antonio)
ROB: (over sounds of vomiting) Oh. (beat) Can I keep firing anyway?
JIM: No. No, you cannot.
ROB: Aw, but it's therapeutic! Give me one good reason why I can't!
JIM: You ran out of ammo 2.45 "No"s ago. Just grab the narrator and let's blow this gyro stand.
(They walk offscreen as Austin Powers and Ms. Kensington drive by in a steamroller)
AUSTIN: It's about time somebody stopped screaming and got out of the way.

(cut to the aircraft flying off into the sunset)
NARRATOR: (off-camera)Again, Sheep in the Big City is brought to a close, this time with a much more satisfying sense of closure, thanks to the CI Motley! (beat) Are we there yet?
LEROY: (ditto)No.
(beat)
NARRATOR: Are we there yet?
LEROY: No.
(beat)
NARRATOR: Are we there yet?
ROB: (ditto again)Yes! Get out! (The Narrator is seen falling from the aircraft, screaming helplessly. Fade out.)

(Fade in on a stage with a drawn curtain. The curtain rises to reveal the Ranting Swede.)
NARRATOR: (off-camera, sounding like he's still falling) Annnnd noooow, for a complete sense of closuuuure, here's one last visit witht e Ranting Sweeee--*splat*
SWEDE: You know what makes me mad?! I want included in that story! (as he rants, the CI Motley walks up behind him, holding Cyclones) I took priceless chunks out of my lifetime to rant for you people in every episode, so you'd think I could get a decent part, but NO!!! I don't even get killed by those CI Mot...ley...guys? (turns around)
JIM: Don't wanna disappoint you, fella. We hate to leave a job half-finished anyway.
SWEDE: Mommy.
(They all shoot at the Swede nonstop for about ten seconds, kicking up a giant cloud of dust. When the dust clears, nothing is left but a hole in the stage floor where the Swede was standing.)
ROB: Thank you, Ranting Swede! And thank you, reader, for putting up with this dog of a fanfic! (they join hands and bow as the curtain falls)

The end. I leave you with this quote:

"How did the country lose its way, Mel? When did we stop rooting for the man with a flame-thrower or an acid-spraying gun of some kind?"
-Homer Simpson

Now bug off.