The Doldrums: Volume 7: The Fate of Destiny is Locked Within the Length of
the Lengthy Title Which I Have Used and Have no Intention of Ending Right
Now, so Piss Off and wait Until I am Done Here, Pitiful Human Meat-sacks
Oh Wait! You Thought the Title Ended up there, Eh? No!!! It's Still Going on!!! I'm Not done with you Yet!!!
Ok. _______________________
Spike and Jet, the legendary duo of mayhem, walked down the long, straight corridor within the Jedi Temple on Coruscant (remember that big pretty building with Yoda in it in Episode I? That thing), admiring the commanding view of the city-scape. A little light-headed from their anti- alcohol shots (the previous night had been a rowdy one full of beer and badass Jedi fights while drunk), they continued on to the main council chamber, where they were to be reprimanded for drinking on the job. Drinking a LOT on the job.
"Hey Jet."
"Yeah, Spike?"
"If we could redo the last three days, if we had the chance to re-live them without the drunken brawling in bars and strip clubs all through the lower levels of the city, would you?"
"Hell no. Best fucking time of my life."
"Hell yeah. Right on."
They exchanged a little low-five, fist punch/handshake combo they had come up during the past few days to signify that they were buddies, and above that drinking buddies, and continued walking down the wide hall. Soon, all too soon, they arrived at the entrance to the Main Jedi Council chambers.
With a nod from Spike, Jet led the way into the room.
Quietly, and without aplomb, the two bounty-hunter/Jedi stood in the middle of the room, facing the one, the only, the MASTER of MASTERS, YODA.
"Jedi Master Jet Black. Padawan Learner Spike Spiegel. Broken the Council's decree, you have. What have you to say?"
Jet stepped forward. "Myself and my Padawan have no defense to offer you. We have, over the past few days. uhh. indulged, a bit, in the more. uhh. material things that this world offers-"
"Indulged? A bit?" Mace Windu said, incredulity in his voice. "You have racked up quite a bill with your stay at the Preston, not to mention quite a few bills with various nightclubs, strip joints and other unsavory places within the city. Care to explain your actions?"
"Uhh. We were. Uhh."
"Beware Master Black. One of the paths to the Dark side, greed is."
".What about gluttony?"
"Too, that one of the paths that lead to the Dark side."
".Oh."
"You leave us with little recourse, Master Black. Does your Padawan wish to say anything?"
"I do, Master Windu." Spike Stepped forward. ".Uhh." His nerve failed him, "It was all in good fun."
Windu remained silent for a moment. Then he spoke.
"What the hell do you mean? Fun? We're not here to have fun. We're here to protect the galaxy from the shit that idiots pull out there." He stood, and stuck a pose. "Thas right, fool. You just messed with tha Jedi bruthahood, and we 'bout to lay some wupass on yo punk skulls, BYATCH!!!"
His moment of Samuel L. Jackson baddass-ness ending, he sat again, and composed his thoughts.
"Punishment is in order."
Jet was staring openmouthed at Master Windu. WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!?!?!? He just turned into fucking SHAFT, a stone-cold brutha from tha Bronx, byatch!!! WHAT?
"What kind of punishment?" Spike asked,a little less stunned than Jet.
"An Assignment for now. Busy-work while we come up with something properly chastising."
"Oh. Ok then."
"You will be sent to the world of Naboo along with Jedi Knight Qui- Gon Jinn and his Padawan, where the Trade Federation is laying siege to the planet. You will negotiate with the Federation and try to turn them back. If you do not succeed, you will try again. This is a chance for you both to use that sack of dog food you call a brain that you store in your heads, MORONS."
"Oh. Ok."
"After this mission, return here. I don't wanna see you bitches back up in here unless you got some bitch'n good news, cuz if not I'll get Yoda here to CANE yo' ASSES. Y' Hea, BITCHES?!?!?!"
"Yessir. We'll leave immediately."
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"Damn that was fucking easy." Spike said. "I mean, crap, that could have sucked monkey balls. But here we are. And do you know what? We're being given the chance of a lifetime."
"Well duh we have the chance of a lifetime. We're fucking Jedi."
"No, not that. We're gonna be in the fucking movie, man. YEAH. Not a fuckin' cameo or some shit. We're gonna be fuckin' STARS!!!"
"Oh shit. yeah, we're going to fucking Naboo!!!"
"Hell yeah. And you know what else, Jet?"
"We get to bone the Queen!!!"
".Dude. she's fucking thirteen in this movie." Spike shivered in disgust. "Pedophile."
"Oh shut the hell up. Look at her man. The real actress was fucking 18."
".Oh yeah. That's not what I was getting at though."
"Oh? What then?"
Spike smiled that smile that he gives when he's having a good fight with someone who really, REALLY deserves to die. "We get to kill Jar-Jar Binks."
Jet froze in his tracks, a great fantasy taking place in his mind. Jar-Jar, standing holding a frog in his tongue, saying "Meesa Jar-Jar Binks, Meesa suck hardcore, Meesa sorry you hadda pay to see mee in a movie!", and then a vision of him running up and KILLING THE BUBBLE-EYED BITCH WITH FUCKING Jedi LIGHTING!!!
"You know what this means right?" Jet asked.
"What?"
"We turn to the dark side to kill him. We're gonna strike him down in anger, and turn to the fucking dark side of the force."
Spike considered for a moment. "FUCK!!! I don't want to go over to the dark side. no matter how much easier and fun it could be. For one, women do not dig men like that, unless you pay them to, and for another, long-term exposure to the dark side causes skin damage, reptilian-yellow eyes, withers your bone structure, and in severe cases causes death by good Jedi."
Jet set his head loll in thought. "Oh yeah. Thanks Spike, now I know."
"And knowing is half the battle." Spike said.
"Alright. Fine. I'm fuckin' hungry. Let's go eat something."
_______________________
Yoda let his Force-eavesdropping end there. It wasn't really eavesdropping, so much as keeping a watchful eye over two semi-wayward Jedi, but he still felt a little guilty. He looked over to Mace Windu and saw him do the same mental relax.
"Sense the conversation, did you?"
"Yes, Master Yoda. It troubles me, and yet at the same time, does not, that these two Jedi somehow know more about the future than we do."
"Unsettling this is, however there is no real reason to inquire further. Perhaps the future they saw, and now they seek to avoid it."
"However this talk of the dark side, and of killing this. Jar-Jar Binks. It does not bode well."
Yoda shrugged. "Perhaps a warning to Qui-Gon is in order. Advise him to watch out for Master Black we must."
Windu thought about it for a moment. "Indeed, we must. In fact, I believe that he arrived on the planet earlier today. We could get him to meet Master Black as early as tonight."
Yoda pondered that for a moment. "I foresee no difficulties between them. Even become friends, they might."
_______________________
Qui-Gon halfway stood from his chair, yelling "Another round, for EVERBODY, on ME!!!" with a round of applause rolling through the cantina where he, Obi-Wan, Spike, and Jet sat drinking the night away in plain- civilian dress (nothing to show that they were indeed jedi). Qui-Gon wore a black tunic and pants ensemble, the same as Obi-Wan, and Jet and spike wore something along the lines of a black Jedi under-tunic and pants (like Skywalker in Return of the Jedi).
It really wasn't Yoda's fault, or Windu's. It just turned out that Jet and Qui-Gon got along really well. Well enough that Jet managed to subvert a lifetime of Jedi teachings and managed to get Qui-Gon drunk off his ass. A good-sized keg of beer sat on rollers right next to the table, and they were taking turns chugging as much of the stuff as they could. The previous announcement had come after Jet finished it off, with the help of just about everybody in the place. They had hooked up Obi-Wan with a hooker, Spike had become his usual raucous self after a few beers and got into a still-going brawl out front, and in general, there were some good times.
"HowboutTHAT!!! Yeah!!! I gots ta get a keg to put in mah fridge back home!!!" Qui-Gon said to Jet.
"A Keg? In your fridge? That would have to be one muthafacking huge- ass fridge."
"Yeah. yeah."
"Yeah."
"I needa get a mutherfacking huge-ass fridge."Qui-Gon said thoughtfully.
"YEAH!!! Hey, how about running a beer-bong through it?!?!?!"
"A beer bong? HELL YES!!!"
"With like a fucking nine-foot hose on it!!!"
"A fucking nine-foot hose? Fucking beer would shoot into your fucking lungs with that shit." Qui-Gon said, sobering slightly.
"Oh yeah. What do you think Obi?"
Obi-Wan had been staring at his woman's breasts, not really paying attention to the conversation with the amount of absent-mindedness which can only be obtained when drunk off your ass. You know. When you're so plotzed that that fat chick in the corner looks hotter than. some hot chick? Yeah. He was there. And he was with a hot chick. Yeah.
"Huh?" Was his reply.
"THAT'S RIGHT!!! The force will protect us!!!" Qui-Gon said.
"That's right! Nothing can go wrong! We're FUCKING Jedi!!!" Jet said, the fervor of religion sweeping him up.
"YEAH!!! ANOTHER ROUND, FOR EVERYONE!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!"
_______________________
Spike was beating the shit out of fifty guys. Nothing special in that. Just that he was doing it on a rooftop arena in the middle of the dirtiest place in the galaxy fighting against a horde of aliens who wanted to kill him and then eat him to cover up the evidence, and who were armed with these BADASS guns that shoot out red bolts of energy. Yeah. Oh, and he didn't want to use his lightsaber just yet. He wanted to see how far he could get without killing.
Spike performed a running triple kick on one of the suckers, followed by a back-flip powered by the force which took him in punching range of two more. With a flurry of kicks and punches, he took them out, then cart- wheeled out of the way of three blaster shots. In the middle of his wheel, he picked up two bricks and threw them at the shooters, diving for cover behind a shattered wall in the process. He heard the bricks hit, and dove around the corner to meet two more people with an iron pole he pulled out of the busted wall. Spinning it like a staff, he whacked another two guys into La-la land and stuck a pose for the rest, twirling the staff around his body and then halting in mid motion, the pole held parallel to the ground behind him, his left hand outstretched before him, and the Devil's grin on his face.
It had the desired effect, the pose with the grin. A couple of the guys broke and ran for it, leaving some of the more hardened fellows behind to deal with the pole-bearing BADASS over there. Those who were left were not a bunch of push-overs though. A few of them drew knives and swords out of back and side sheathes, while others scrounged around for handy weapons lying around the torn rooftop, like say, iron poles and bricks. Fun.
Spike decided that he had given them enough of a breather, and that now was the time to take action. Swinging the pole around his head a few times just to show them that he could, he attacked the nearest knife- bearing foe. Using one lighting-fast strike to break his hand and make him drop his knife, he then swung the pole around and neatly flipped the alien into the air, making him spin once in the air like a side-ways top, before depositing him on the ground. He then stepped back into the man sneaking up behind him and drove an elbow into his face while sliding the pole out in his hand to meet another charging attacker in the balls. Ouch.
Swinging the pole back into a more mobile position, he then took on two of the pole-toting aliens at the same time, using the entirety of the staff to block and deliver blows, his pole whirring through the air like a propeller chopping up metal and bone. With two quick strikes to the head and a spinning low sweep to their feet, they were down and out for the count. This left three guys with knives and one dude over there with a pair of swords. Throwing his pole like a spear into one of the knife-boys, he appropriated one of the poles off one of the guys he just beat the hell out of and set to work. Another quick lighting strike to a hand and a knife when spinning off into the air, but Spike had a different plan for this one than to just let it fall to the ground. Using a force-propelled leap into the air (DAMN you gots ta LOVE that force jumping trick Luke used in Cloud city to get out of the carbon freezing chamber), he neatly caught the knife and jammed the handle tightly into the end of his pole, making a sort of spear out of it.
Armed with an upgraded weapon, He quickly disarmed and dispatched the other knife-boy, and spun quickly into a head-strike on the other, previously disarmed knife-boy. You know, the one whose knife he made a spear out of? Him. Then, he turned to the Sword-man. Sword-man had stood back through the fight, watching how Spike fought, obviously either the leader of the gang or just someone who was smart and wanted to see what the fluffy-haired freak could do before wading in. The two of them stood on opposite sides of the rooftop arena, studying each other closely. Spike could see that this guy had some strength to him, and knew how to carry himself. Sword-man could probably see that this fluffy boy knew how to fight, and looked to be wearing something similar to the lines of a black Jedi robe. Not something to worry about, as Jedi don't get into drunken brawls.
Charging with both swords held to his sides, the alien attacked, screaming a blood chilling scream just to throw Spike off. Spike started charging just a second after the alien, just to make the fight seem more epic. He yelled a warrior's yell, and charged in.
All in all, Sword-man was good. Swinging high with one sword and keeping his left-handed sword behind, he clearly expected spike to block his first strike and swing around and strike with the other end of the pole. Which did happen. Spike then raised both of his hands at the same time, raising the pole's midsection into the alien's face. This hurt. Getting hit by a metal pole generally hurts. With the alien stunned so, it should have been enough to get the winning advantage, but the alien swung his swords in at him from the sides, like scissors, clearly knowing how to get him to back off long enough to recover. Spike obliged him, and ducked back to avoid the strike, which then turned into a double stab with both of the swords, meant to catch him off balance. Spike ducked quickly to the side, but not without a scratch to the side of his face from a stabbing sword. This close to the swords, he could see that they were built something like katanas, but with shortened handles and hand-guards. That would prevent him from knocking them directly out of his hands in the future. Interesting.
Finishing his dodge, Spike slid the pole out to it's end and swung it around himself, like an elongated sword, at the alien's back. The alien was, if anything, real quick. He quickly drove both swords over his head to block the strike, without looking, and turned it into a parry that brought him in under the pole's regular range. This should have been an advantage, except that Spike knows how to use more than just a fucking pole in a fight, thank you kindly. Popping the pole up onto both of his shoulders behind his head, he quickly kicked the alien in the right knee, snapping it straight up, but not breaking it, and then kicked him in the face, all while shifting his shoulders to block downward strikes to his body with the pole, which the Sword-man was raining down on him. Spinning around after his face-kick, Spike wrapped his arms securely around the pole, and struck the alien with it, still over his shoulders three times in the head.
The Sword-man fell, not only from the striking pole, but from the knife gashes on his arm, side, and face. Somehow he seemed to have forgotten about that. You followed that fight right? The knife in air bit? Yeah? Good.
Spike crouched next to the injured Sword-man. "I'm sorry about that. You have some real talent, and it really seems wasted on something so petty as street fights. Why don't you go and see if you can get hired by the Army's Special Forces? I'm sure they'd take you. Or, better yet, try your hand at bounty hunting. Big explosions, money, women, fights with crazy psychopaths, I'm sure you'd like it."
With that said, he got up and left the scene, the injured alien pondering the fluffy-haired freak's words. Bounty hunting, huh? Sounds like fun.
_______________________
Spike walked across one of the many walkways that connect the buildings in the 12 mile-high city. He was a little tired, but hey, that was ok. It had been one hell of a fun night on the town. A little something was bothering him in the back of his head though. As if someone or something was going to go wrong. Oh well. It must have been the beer, messing with his senses. He just had to walk it off.
Suddenly, he heard someone shout, "THERE HE IS!!! That's the bitch who broke my hand with a FUCKING BRICK!!!"
Oh yeah. Those guys with the blasters back at the fight. They must have run off for reinforcements. Shit. He spun around, grabbing at the lightsaber in his clothes, and preparing to flick it on.
It turned out that no one there really wanted to fight him hand to hand, or really shoot at him, per-se. They just sort of drew a bunch of grenades, more than he could count or get a grip on with the force, and lobed them all into the middle of the walkway where he was standing, leaving him with little to no escape route. STUPID MOTHERFUCKERS!!! WHY CAN'T THEY JUST STOP THINKING ABOUT HOW TO GET ME WITHOUT GETTING HURT!!! He thought rapidly before diving over the side of the walkway, expecting some sort of ground a little distance below.
Briefly, let me explain a little something about Coruscant. You see, this planet is so amazingly over-populated that they have to build buildings on top of other buildings, fill in the oceans for more building room, and basically coat the whole planet from top to bottom in city. When the city (which was huge, by the by) got too small, they started building even more buildings on top of other buildings. Now, there is only one bit of the original ground visible to all life, the very top of the highest mountain peak, which is now a sort of religious zone, symbolizing some kind of enduring harmony with earth bullshit. Remember, one building, on top of other buildings on top of other buildings for a long ways up and down. This naturally creates a pretty fucking crazy weather pattern in the city, as buildings heat the air around them enough to create miniature storms and even throw lightning. So, when Spike thinks, ok, a short drop to the ground, then I can run away like a motherfucker before the grenades blow up, how right to you think he's going to be?
Not particularly correct, good deduction Sherlock. Below him, there was a whole bunch of nothing, and a whole lot of empty air filling it up. He was falling for maybe six seconds (an eternity when you're falling) when he heard a loud-ass boom from above, signaling the end of the walkway where he stood.
_______________________
"Wait. I sense something." Jet said, still drunk like a prom queen. "It's Spike. He's in trouble.zzzZZZzzz.ZZZzzzZZZ."
".Yep. ZZZzzzZZZ..zzzZZZZzz."Qui-gon said, without any real reason.
_______________________
Spike reached out with the force. He was still falling, all of seven seconds had elapsed, but he could tell he was getting close to the ground. Or maybe another rooftop that they had built other building on top of. With a planet like Coruscant, where they do that sort of thing, it was more likely that hitting dirt anyway.
He reached out and concentrated on slowing his fall, imagining the force spreading out from him like wings to catch the wind as he fell, and to slow himenough to survive the hit. For some ungodly, reason, IT WORKED. Do you know how fucking hard it is to make a fucking parachute with the fucking power of your brain? FUCKING HARD!!! Shit, that's worthy of immediate promotion to Jedi Master-hood in my book, thank you very much. Damn.
Lightly touching down, with all the lightness of say, a rhino, Spike took in his surroundings. It was pitch black. I mean, black black. There were no fucking surroundings. Damn. Oh well, time to bust out your handy Jedi-issue Tool Belt, equipped with re-breather, grappling hook, small plastic explosives, compass, swiss army knife, and a handy-dandy set of Night Vision goggles.
Strapping on the goggles, Spike took a look around. With them on, he could see as though it were a bright , sunny day out. And holy shit, WHERE THE HELL WAS THIS? He stood in a room where the roof had collapsed inward, from decay or something else, it didn't really matter. All that mattered was that there were two bodies floating in big huge tubes over there on the wall to the left, and each of them was encased in armor. Armor that looked kind of familiar.
Spike walked closer to the bodies, studying his shadow-less surroundings. There were computer banks on the far wall on the other side of the roof-gap, where scientists had probably once monitored the people in the tubes. Off to his left there was some heavy machinery, which looked like the kind that you would put in a car-assembly line. The whole place was totally unpowered, although a generator sat in one corner of the room. Kind of handy, have a rooftop lab with a cracked open roof and all this stuff lying around. Oh well.
Spike's curiosity got the better of him and he activated the generator, with several lights sparking into life, and some of them sparking into death just as quickly. This left enough light for spike to take off his goggles. It was a lot moodier without the brilliant lights of the goggles. Everything was cast in blue-black shadow, and it looked more like the kind of creepy lab you would expect in anime and such.
The cylinders with the bodies remained unlit, and remained floating in their suspending liquid. Cool.
Spike walked over to one of the active computers and pushed the button with the convenient label on it of "sleep-mode." The computer woke up, and a holographic scientist came to life.
"Please, state your name, so that we may have a record of accesses." The man said.
"Spike Spiegel."
"Thank you. What would you like to hear about today, Mister Spiegel?"
"Uhh. What is this place?"
"This is a research lab for the development of exo-skeletal armor for the improvement of human and non-human musculature and cognitive speeds."
"Uhh. Huh?"
"We are working on the exo-skeletal suits of armor you see behind you, with the goal of having a way of enhancing strength, speed and the brain itself without genetic enhancement techniques or surgically installed components."
"Ohhhh, ok, I get it. Where'd you get that idea?"
"The history of the project is as follows: Long ago, in a time much more legend than actual history, the first of the cybernetic warriors was created. It was rumored at the time that he was created with genetic enhancements and an exo-skeletal suit of armor which was grafted into his skin. The power cells of said suit were likewise grafted into his body. Unfortunately, he was destroyed. He was called Gray Fox, and was a member of a Special Forces Unit called Foxhound."
"HOLY SHIT!!! THE Gray Fox?"
"The one and only. It was further rumored that after Gray Fox's destruction, he came back in another form with the same exo-skeletal suit of armor, but the technology for creating such armor was lost after the death of the second Cyborg-Ninja."
"Holy monkey balls. you guys were trying to make another Cyborg Ninja?"
"Indeed. However, we were attacked by religious forces seeking to keep man and machine from melding in such a way. I was knocked offline for repairs during the attack. How else may I be of service to you?"
"Damn religions. Preventing the creation of a Cyborg Ninja. MORONS!!! Alright. Uhm. How close were you to creating a production model of the Ninja armor?"
"Camouflage techniques, enhanced strength, speed, onboard A.I., and power cells are complete, all that we needed was the sword, and a test subject with enough inherent skill to work with it all."
Spike smiled his devil's grin. "And could you make more suits of armor with that machinery over there?" he waved at the car-making machinery off to the side.
"Indeed, however with the two suits in the containment chambers with their dummy bodies knocked out, and with limited supplies, we are unable to make more than one suit of armor."
"That's fine. One suit is all I need."
It took the better part of two hours to strip the armor off of the bodies in the tubes and recycle them along with more materials, as well as select a new color scheme for the armor, but in the end, the result was nothing short of BADASS. It was really more reminiscent of the first ninja, but with head armor that could become totally clear, as well as a gold and black color scheme (gold substitutes blue in the original model).
Spike stood in the middle of the floor, preparing for the force/machine powered leap that would begin to take him back up out of the chasm where he had fallen, and flexed a little. Huh. felt good.
"Hey, computer. Guess what I am now?"
"What, Mister Spiegel?"
"I'm a Bounty hunter Shaolin Cyborg Ninja Jedi. Holy shit. I need to sing a song about this. I really ought to. I feel a MIGHTY NEED to do so."
_______________________
SONGFIC TIME: Tenacious D: Wonder Boy
_______________________
::Fade in from black, accompanied by a guitar solo::
Spike rises from the darkness in his armor, moonlight glinting off of his armor in the deep night gloom. He rises high up into the sky, and lands on top of a sky scraper, where he takes his helm off and lets the wind blow through his hair.
He begins to sing.
Spike: High above the mucky muck, castle made of clouds, there sits wonder boy sitting oh so proudly. Not much to say, when you're high above the mucky muck, YEAH.
Spike leaps from the top of the building, flying through the air.
S: Wonderboy. What is the secret of your power? Wonderboy!!! Won't you take me far away from the Mucky-Muck Man!!!
Spike lands on another building, where Jet just happens to be standing on the roof, holding a lightsaber and playing the music on his guitar. Spike looks at him, and nods, drawing his own lightsaber.
S: Now it's time for me to tell you of Young Nastyman, arch rival and nemesis of Wonderboy, with powers comparable to WONDERBOY!!!
Spike and Jet lock in battle.
S: What powers you ask? I dunno... how about the power of flight? That do anything for you? That's levitation, Holmes. How about the power to kill a yak, at 200 yards away, with MIND BULLETS?!??! That's telekinesis, Jet. How about the power. to move you?
Spike and Jet separate in battle, shutting down their lightsabers.
S: History of Wonderboy, and Young Nastyman, a Riga-goo-goo, Riga-goo-goo, a Secret to be told, a gold chest to be bold, and blasting forth with three part harmony, YEOW!!
S: Wonderboy. What is the secret of your power? Wonderboy!!! Won't you take me far away from the Mucky-Muck Man!!!
Spike and Jet clasp hands, and leap over the side of the building.
S: Well Wonderboy and Young Nastyman joined forces; they formed a band the likes of which had NEVER BEEN SEEN, and they called themselves Tenacious D. That's right ME!!! And JB!!
Jet: That's me!!
S: We're now, Tenacious D!!!! Come fly with me, FLY!!!!
Jet whips out his guitar and goes into a beautiful solo for a few moments, as Spike puts his helmet back on. Then, they leap down to the lower levels in search of a fight.
S: Wonderboy. What is the secret of your power? Wonderboy!!! Won't you take me far away from the Mucky-Muck-
He is interrupted as he and Jet are attacked.
S: WHOA!!! Take my hand! Young Nastyman, FLY!!! Bring out your broad sword, There's the Hydra, SLICE HIS THROAT!!! And grab his scroat!!! You take the high road, I'll take the low, There, the crevasse, fill it, with your mighty juice!!!!
Jet and Spike finish their battle, and we fade to black.
_______________________
The end of the SongFic, and the Chapter
_______________________
Authors comments: YEEEEHAAAAWWWWW!!!! That was fun. I heluv loved the cyborg ninja from Metal Gear Solid, and MGS2 too, so I figured, hey, what could be cooler than a Cyber-Spike up on that kind of power? NOTHING AT ALL!!! Actually, I can think of a couple of things, but if this fic goes according to plan, then I can fit all of them in. Heehee. funfun. Oh, if you haven't heard Wonderboy, get it, it will make the songfic that much easier to get. In fact, get the music video too.
What else is there to say. uhh. oh yeah, hope you enjoyed my fight scene, I really worked on that, and even stood in front of a mirror doing all of the moves for it. Ok, well, maybe I just wanted to see how cool I look doing Kung-Fu, but DAMMIT it was HARD!! Heehee.
AgentV: Will I marry you? Are you blonde, female, six feet tall, play volleyball, like dogs, have an interest in all things Star Wars, enjoy swimming, and have a quirky sense of humor, not to mention a killer body? If so, hell yes. But you also have to like many forms of music, including various forms of Death Metal, and the groups Cannibal Corpse and Cradle of Filth.
To Be CONTINUED, Space Cowgirls (YEOW), sooner or later.
Oh Wait! You Thought the Title Ended up there, Eh? No!!! It's Still Going on!!! I'm Not done with you Yet!!!
Ok. _______________________
Spike and Jet, the legendary duo of mayhem, walked down the long, straight corridor within the Jedi Temple on Coruscant (remember that big pretty building with Yoda in it in Episode I? That thing), admiring the commanding view of the city-scape. A little light-headed from their anti- alcohol shots (the previous night had been a rowdy one full of beer and badass Jedi fights while drunk), they continued on to the main council chamber, where they were to be reprimanded for drinking on the job. Drinking a LOT on the job.
"Hey Jet."
"Yeah, Spike?"
"If we could redo the last three days, if we had the chance to re-live them without the drunken brawling in bars and strip clubs all through the lower levels of the city, would you?"
"Hell no. Best fucking time of my life."
"Hell yeah. Right on."
They exchanged a little low-five, fist punch/handshake combo they had come up during the past few days to signify that they were buddies, and above that drinking buddies, and continued walking down the wide hall. Soon, all too soon, they arrived at the entrance to the Main Jedi Council chambers.
With a nod from Spike, Jet led the way into the room.
Quietly, and without aplomb, the two bounty-hunter/Jedi stood in the middle of the room, facing the one, the only, the MASTER of MASTERS, YODA.
"Jedi Master Jet Black. Padawan Learner Spike Spiegel. Broken the Council's decree, you have. What have you to say?"
Jet stepped forward. "Myself and my Padawan have no defense to offer you. We have, over the past few days. uhh. indulged, a bit, in the more. uhh. material things that this world offers-"
"Indulged? A bit?" Mace Windu said, incredulity in his voice. "You have racked up quite a bill with your stay at the Preston, not to mention quite a few bills with various nightclubs, strip joints and other unsavory places within the city. Care to explain your actions?"
"Uhh. We were. Uhh."
"Beware Master Black. One of the paths to the Dark side, greed is."
".What about gluttony?"
"Too, that one of the paths that lead to the Dark side."
".Oh."
"You leave us with little recourse, Master Black. Does your Padawan wish to say anything?"
"I do, Master Windu." Spike Stepped forward. ".Uhh." His nerve failed him, "It was all in good fun."
Windu remained silent for a moment. Then he spoke.
"What the hell do you mean? Fun? We're not here to have fun. We're here to protect the galaxy from the shit that idiots pull out there." He stood, and stuck a pose. "Thas right, fool. You just messed with tha Jedi bruthahood, and we 'bout to lay some wupass on yo punk skulls, BYATCH!!!"
His moment of Samuel L. Jackson baddass-ness ending, he sat again, and composed his thoughts.
"Punishment is in order."
Jet was staring openmouthed at Master Windu. WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!?!?!? He just turned into fucking SHAFT, a stone-cold brutha from tha Bronx, byatch!!! WHAT?
"What kind of punishment?" Spike asked,a little less stunned than Jet.
"An Assignment for now. Busy-work while we come up with something properly chastising."
"Oh. Ok then."
"You will be sent to the world of Naboo along with Jedi Knight Qui- Gon Jinn and his Padawan, where the Trade Federation is laying siege to the planet. You will negotiate with the Federation and try to turn them back. If you do not succeed, you will try again. This is a chance for you both to use that sack of dog food you call a brain that you store in your heads, MORONS."
"Oh. Ok."
"After this mission, return here. I don't wanna see you bitches back up in here unless you got some bitch'n good news, cuz if not I'll get Yoda here to CANE yo' ASSES. Y' Hea, BITCHES?!?!?!"
"Yessir. We'll leave immediately."
_______________________
"Damn that was fucking easy." Spike said. "I mean, crap, that could have sucked monkey balls. But here we are. And do you know what? We're being given the chance of a lifetime."
"Well duh we have the chance of a lifetime. We're fucking Jedi."
"No, not that. We're gonna be in the fucking movie, man. YEAH. Not a fuckin' cameo or some shit. We're gonna be fuckin' STARS!!!"
"Oh shit. yeah, we're going to fucking Naboo!!!"
"Hell yeah. And you know what else, Jet?"
"We get to bone the Queen!!!"
".Dude. she's fucking thirteen in this movie." Spike shivered in disgust. "Pedophile."
"Oh shut the hell up. Look at her man. The real actress was fucking 18."
".Oh yeah. That's not what I was getting at though."
"Oh? What then?"
Spike smiled that smile that he gives when he's having a good fight with someone who really, REALLY deserves to die. "We get to kill Jar-Jar Binks."
Jet froze in his tracks, a great fantasy taking place in his mind. Jar-Jar, standing holding a frog in his tongue, saying "Meesa Jar-Jar Binks, Meesa suck hardcore, Meesa sorry you hadda pay to see mee in a movie!", and then a vision of him running up and KILLING THE BUBBLE-EYED BITCH WITH FUCKING Jedi LIGHTING!!!
"You know what this means right?" Jet asked.
"What?"
"We turn to the dark side to kill him. We're gonna strike him down in anger, and turn to the fucking dark side of the force."
Spike considered for a moment. "FUCK!!! I don't want to go over to the dark side. no matter how much easier and fun it could be. For one, women do not dig men like that, unless you pay them to, and for another, long-term exposure to the dark side causes skin damage, reptilian-yellow eyes, withers your bone structure, and in severe cases causes death by good Jedi."
Jet set his head loll in thought. "Oh yeah. Thanks Spike, now I know."
"And knowing is half the battle." Spike said.
"Alright. Fine. I'm fuckin' hungry. Let's go eat something."
_______________________
Yoda let his Force-eavesdropping end there. It wasn't really eavesdropping, so much as keeping a watchful eye over two semi-wayward Jedi, but he still felt a little guilty. He looked over to Mace Windu and saw him do the same mental relax.
"Sense the conversation, did you?"
"Yes, Master Yoda. It troubles me, and yet at the same time, does not, that these two Jedi somehow know more about the future than we do."
"Unsettling this is, however there is no real reason to inquire further. Perhaps the future they saw, and now they seek to avoid it."
"However this talk of the dark side, and of killing this. Jar-Jar Binks. It does not bode well."
Yoda shrugged. "Perhaps a warning to Qui-Gon is in order. Advise him to watch out for Master Black we must."
Windu thought about it for a moment. "Indeed, we must. In fact, I believe that he arrived on the planet earlier today. We could get him to meet Master Black as early as tonight."
Yoda pondered that for a moment. "I foresee no difficulties between them. Even become friends, they might."
_______________________
Qui-Gon halfway stood from his chair, yelling "Another round, for EVERBODY, on ME!!!" with a round of applause rolling through the cantina where he, Obi-Wan, Spike, and Jet sat drinking the night away in plain- civilian dress (nothing to show that they were indeed jedi). Qui-Gon wore a black tunic and pants ensemble, the same as Obi-Wan, and Jet and spike wore something along the lines of a black Jedi under-tunic and pants (like Skywalker in Return of the Jedi).
It really wasn't Yoda's fault, or Windu's. It just turned out that Jet and Qui-Gon got along really well. Well enough that Jet managed to subvert a lifetime of Jedi teachings and managed to get Qui-Gon drunk off his ass. A good-sized keg of beer sat on rollers right next to the table, and they were taking turns chugging as much of the stuff as they could. The previous announcement had come after Jet finished it off, with the help of just about everybody in the place. They had hooked up Obi-Wan with a hooker, Spike had become his usual raucous self after a few beers and got into a still-going brawl out front, and in general, there were some good times.
"HowboutTHAT!!! Yeah!!! I gots ta get a keg to put in mah fridge back home!!!" Qui-Gon said to Jet.
"A Keg? In your fridge? That would have to be one muthafacking huge- ass fridge."
"Yeah. yeah."
"Yeah."
"I needa get a mutherfacking huge-ass fridge."Qui-Gon said thoughtfully.
"YEAH!!! Hey, how about running a beer-bong through it?!?!?!"
"A beer bong? HELL YES!!!"
"With like a fucking nine-foot hose on it!!!"
"A fucking nine-foot hose? Fucking beer would shoot into your fucking lungs with that shit." Qui-Gon said, sobering slightly.
"Oh yeah. What do you think Obi?"
Obi-Wan had been staring at his woman's breasts, not really paying attention to the conversation with the amount of absent-mindedness which can only be obtained when drunk off your ass. You know. When you're so plotzed that that fat chick in the corner looks hotter than. some hot chick? Yeah. He was there. And he was with a hot chick. Yeah.
"Huh?" Was his reply.
"THAT'S RIGHT!!! The force will protect us!!!" Qui-Gon said.
"That's right! Nothing can go wrong! We're FUCKING Jedi!!!" Jet said, the fervor of religion sweeping him up.
"YEAH!!! ANOTHER ROUND, FOR EVERYONE!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!"
_______________________
Spike was beating the shit out of fifty guys. Nothing special in that. Just that he was doing it on a rooftop arena in the middle of the dirtiest place in the galaxy fighting against a horde of aliens who wanted to kill him and then eat him to cover up the evidence, and who were armed with these BADASS guns that shoot out red bolts of energy. Yeah. Oh, and he didn't want to use his lightsaber just yet. He wanted to see how far he could get without killing.
Spike performed a running triple kick on one of the suckers, followed by a back-flip powered by the force which took him in punching range of two more. With a flurry of kicks and punches, he took them out, then cart- wheeled out of the way of three blaster shots. In the middle of his wheel, he picked up two bricks and threw them at the shooters, diving for cover behind a shattered wall in the process. He heard the bricks hit, and dove around the corner to meet two more people with an iron pole he pulled out of the busted wall. Spinning it like a staff, he whacked another two guys into La-la land and stuck a pose for the rest, twirling the staff around his body and then halting in mid motion, the pole held parallel to the ground behind him, his left hand outstretched before him, and the Devil's grin on his face.
It had the desired effect, the pose with the grin. A couple of the guys broke and ran for it, leaving some of the more hardened fellows behind to deal with the pole-bearing BADASS over there. Those who were left were not a bunch of push-overs though. A few of them drew knives and swords out of back and side sheathes, while others scrounged around for handy weapons lying around the torn rooftop, like say, iron poles and bricks. Fun.
Spike decided that he had given them enough of a breather, and that now was the time to take action. Swinging the pole around his head a few times just to show them that he could, he attacked the nearest knife- bearing foe. Using one lighting-fast strike to break his hand and make him drop his knife, he then swung the pole around and neatly flipped the alien into the air, making him spin once in the air like a side-ways top, before depositing him on the ground. He then stepped back into the man sneaking up behind him and drove an elbow into his face while sliding the pole out in his hand to meet another charging attacker in the balls. Ouch.
Swinging the pole back into a more mobile position, he then took on two of the pole-toting aliens at the same time, using the entirety of the staff to block and deliver blows, his pole whirring through the air like a propeller chopping up metal and bone. With two quick strikes to the head and a spinning low sweep to their feet, they were down and out for the count. This left three guys with knives and one dude over there with a pair of swords. Throwing his pole like a spear into one of the knife-boys, he appropriated one of the poles off one of the guys he just beat the hell out of and set to work. Another quick lighting strike to a hand and a knife when spinning off into the air, but Spike had a different plan for this one than to just let it fall to the ground. Using a force-propelled leap into the air (DAMN you gots ta LOVE that force jumping trick Luke used in Cloud city to get out of the carbon freezing chamber), he neatly caught the knife and jammed the handle tightly into the end of his pole, making a sort of spear out of it.
Armed with an upgraded weapon, He quickly disarmed and dispatched the other knife-boy, and spun quickly into a head-strike on the other, previously disarmed knife-boy. You know, the one whose knife he made a spear out of? Him. Then, he turned to the Sword-man. Sword-man had stood back through the fight, watching how Spike fought, obviously either the leader of the gang or just someone who was smart and wanted to see what the fluffy-haired freak could do before wading in. The two of them stood on opposite sides of the rooftop arena, studying each other closely. Spike could see that this guy had some strength to him, and knew how to carry himself. Sword-man could probably see that this fluffy boy knew how to fight, and looked to be wearing something similar to the lines of a black Jedi robe. Not something to worry about, as Jedi don't get into drunken brawls.
Charging with both swords held to his sides, the alien attacked, screaming a blood chilling scream just to throw Spike off. Spike started charging just a second after the alien, just to make the fight seem more epic. He yelled a warrior's yell, and charged in.
All in all, Sword-man was good. Swinging high with one sword and keeping his left-handed sword behind, he clearly expected spike to block his first strike and swing around and strike with the other end of the pole. Which did happen. Spike then raised both of his hands at the same time, raising the pole's midsection into the alien's face. This hurt. Getting hit by a metal pole generally hurts. With the alien stunned so, it should have been enough to get the winning advantage, but the alien swung his swords in at him from the sides, like scissors, clearly knowing how to get him to back off long enough to recover. Spike obliged him, and ducked back to avoid the strike, which then turned into a double stab with both of the swords, meant to catch him off balance. Spike ducked quickly to the side, but not without a scratch to the side of his face from a stabbing sword. This close to the swords, he could see that they were built something like katanas, but with shortened handles and hand-guards. That would prevent him from knocking them directly out of his hands in the future. Interesting.
Finishing his dodge, Spike slid the pole out to it's end and swung it around himself, like an elongated sword, at the alien's back. The alien was, if anything, real quick. He quickly drove both swords over his head to block the strike, without looking, and turned it into a parry that brought him in under the pole's regular range. This should have been an advantage, except that Spike knows how to use more than just a fucking pole in a fight, thank you kindly. Popping the pole up onto both of his shoulders behind his head, he quickly kicked the alien in the right knee, snapping it straight up, but not breaking it, and then kicked him in the face, all while shifting his shoulders to block downward strikes to his body with the pole, which the Sword-man was raining down on him. Spinning around after his face-kick, Spike wrapped his arms securely around the pole, and struck the alien with it, still over his shoulders three times in the head.
The Sword-man fell, not only from the striking pole, but from the knife gashes on his arm, side, and face. Somehow he seemed to have forgotten about that. You followed that fight right? The knife in air bit? Yeah? Good.
Spike crouched next to the injured Sword-man. "I'm sorry about that. You have some real talent, and it really seems wasted on something so petty as street fights. Why don't you go and see if you can get hired by the Army's Special Forces? I'm sure they'd take you. Or, better yet, try your hand at bounty hunting. Big explosions, money, women, fights with crazy psychopaths, I'm sure you'd like it."
With that said, he got up and left the scene, the injured alien pondering the fluffy-haired freak's words. Bounty hunting, huh? Sounds like fun.
_______________________
Spike walked across one of the many walkways that connect the buildings in the 12 mile-high city. He was a little tired, but hey, that was ok. It had been one hell of a fun night on the town. A little something was bothering him in the back of his head though. As if someone or something was going to go wrong. Oh well. It must have been the beer, messing with his senses. He just had to walk it off.
Suddenly, he heard someone shout, "THERE HE IS!!! That's the bitch who broke my hand with a FUCKING BRICK!!!"
Oh yeah. Those guys with the blasters back at the fight. They must have run off for reinforcements. Shit. He spun around, grabbing at the lightsaber in his clothes, and preparing to flick it on.
It turned out that no one there really wanted to fight him hand to hand, or really shoot at him, per-se. They just sort of drew a bunch of grenades, more than he could count or get a grip on with the force, and lobed them all into the middle of the walkway where he was standing, leaving him with little to no escape route. STUPID MOTHERFUCKERS!!! WHY CAN'T THEY JUST STOP THINKING ABOUT HOW TO GET ME WITHOUT GETTING HURT!!! He thought rapidly before diving over the side of the walkway, expecting some sort of ground a little distance below.
Briefly, let me explain a little something about Coruscant. You see, this planet is so amazingly over-populated that they have to build buildings on top of other buildings, fill in the oceans for more building room, and basically coat the whole planet from top to bottom in city. When the city (which was huge, by the by) got too small, they started building even more buildings on top of other buildings. Now, there is only one bit of the original ground visible to all life, the very top of the highest mountain peak, which is now a sort of religious zone, symbolizing some kind of enduring harmony with earth bullshit. Remember, one building, on top of other buildings on top of other buildings for a long ways up and down. This naturally creates a pretty fucking crazy weather pattern in the city, as buildings heat the air around them enough to create miniature storms and even throw lightning. So, when Spike thinks, ok, a short drop to the ground, then I can run away like a motherfucker before the grenades blow up, how right to you think he's going to be?
Not particularly correct, good deduction Sherlock. Below him, there was a whole bunch of nothing, and a whole lot of empty air filling it up. He was falling for maybe six seconds (an eternity when you're falling) when he heard a loud-ass boom from above, signaling the end of the walkway where he stood.
_______________________
"Wait. I sense something." Jet said, still drunk like a prom queen. "It's Spike. He's in trouble.zzzZZZzzz.ZZZzzzZZZ."
".Yep. ZZZzzzZZZ..zzzZZZZzz."Qui-gon said, without any real reason.
_______________________
Spike reached out with the force. He was still falling, all of seven seconds had elapsed, but he could tell he was getting close to the ground. Or maybe another rooftop that they had built other building on top of. With a planet like Coruscant, where they do that sort of thing, it was more likely that hitting dirt anyway.
He reached out and concentrated on slowing his fall, imagining the force spreading out from him like wings to catch the wind as he fell, and to slow himenough to survive the hit. For some ungodly, reason, IT WORKED. Do you know how fucking hard it is to make a fucking parachute with the fucking power of your brain? FUCKING HARD!!! Shit, that's worthy of immediate promotion to Jedi Master-hood in my book, thank you very much. Damn.
Lightly touching down, with all the lightness of say, a rhino, Spike took in his surroundings. It was pitch black. I mean, black black. There were no fucking surroundings. Damn. Oh well, time to bust out your handy Jedi-issue Tool Belt, equipped with re-breather, grappling hook, small plastic explosives, compass, swiss army knife, and a handy-dandy set of Night Vision goggles.
Strapping on the goggles, Spike took a look around. With them on, he could see as though it were a bright , sunny day out. And holy shit, WHERE THE HELL WAS THIS? He stood in a room where the roof had collapsed inward, from decay or something else, it didn't really matter. All that mattered was that there were two bodies floating in big huge tubes over there on the wall to the left, and each of them was encased in armor. Armor that looked kind of familiar.
Spike walked closer to the bodies, studying his shadow-less surroundings. There were computer banks on the far wall on the other side of the roof-gap, where scientists had probably once monitored the people in the tubes. Off to his left there was some heavy machinery, which looked like the kind that you would put in a car-assembly line. The whole place was totally unpowered, although a generator sat in one corner of the room. Kind of handy, have a rooftop lab with a cracked open roof and all this stuff lying around. Oh well.
Spike's curiosity got the better of him and he activated the generator, with several lights sparking into life, and some of them sparking into death just as quickly. This left enough light for spike to take off his goggles. It was a lot moodier without the brilliant lights of the goggles. Everything was cast in blue-black shadow, and it looked more like the kind of creepy lab you would expect in anime and such.
The cylinders with the bodies remained unlit, and remained floating in their suspending liquid. Cool.
Spike walked over to one of the active computers and pushed the button with the convenient label on it of "sleep-mode." The computer woke up, and a holographic scientist came to life.
"Please, state your name, so that we may have a record of accesses." The man said.
"Spike Spiegel."
"Thank you. What would you like to hear about today, Mister Spiegel?"
"Uhh. What is this place?"
"This is a research lab for the development of exo-skeletal armor for the improvement of human and non-human musculature and cognitive speeds."
"Uhh. Huh?"
"We are working on the exo-skeletal suits of armor you see behind you, with the goal of having a way of enhancing strength, speed and the brain itself without genetic enhancement techniques or surgically installed components."
"Ohhhh, ok, I get it. Where'd you get that idea?"
"The history of the project is as follows: Long ago, in a time much more legend than actual history, the first of the cybernetic warriors was created. It was rumored at the time that he was created with genetic enhancements and an exo-skeletal suit of armor which was grafted into his skin. The power cells of said suit were likewise grafted into his body. Unfortunately, he was destroyed. He was called Gray Fox, and was a member of a Special Forces Unit called Foxhound."
"HOLY SHIT!!! THE Gray Fox?"
"The one and only. It was further rumored that after Gray Fox's destruction, he came back in another form with the same exo-skeletal suit of armor, but the technology for creating such armor was lost after the death of the second Cyborg-Ninja."
"Holy monkey balls. you guys were trying to make another Cyborg Ninja?"
"Indeed. However, we were attacked by religious forces seeking to keep man and machine from melding in such a way. I was knocked offline for repairs during the attack. How else may I be of service to you?"
"Damn religions. Preventing the creation of a Cyborg Ninja. MORONS!!! Alright. Uhm. How close were you to creating a production model of the Ninja armor?"
"Camouflage techniques, enhanced strength, speed, onboard A.I., and power cells are complete, all that we needed was the sword, and a test subject with enough inherent skill to work with it all."
Spike smiled his devil's grin. "And could you make more suits of armor with that machinery over there?" he waved at the car-making machinery off to the side.
"Indeed, however with the two suits in the containment chambers with their dummy bodies knocked out, and with limited supplies, we are unable to make more than one suit of armor."
"That's fine. One suit is all I need."
It took the better part of two hours to strip the armor off of the bodies in the tubes and recycle them along with more materials, as well as select a new color scheme for the armor, but in the end, the result was nothing short of BADASS. It was really more reminiscent of the first ninja, but with head armor that could become totally clear, as well as a gold and black color scheme (gold substitutes blue in the original model).
Spike stood in the middle of the floor, preparing for the force/machine powered leap that would begin to take him back up out of the chasm where he had fallen, and flexed a little. Huh. felt good.
"Hey, computer. Guess what I am now?"
"What, Mister Spiegel?"
"I'm a Bounty hunter Shaolin Cyborg Ninja Jedi. Holy shit. I need to sing a song about this. I really ought to. I feel a MIGHTY NEED to do so."
_______________________
SONGFIC TIME: Tenacious D: Wonder Boy
_______________________
::Fade in from black, accompanied by a guitar solo::
Spike rises from the darkness in his armor, moonlight glinting off of his armor in the deep night gloom. He rises high up into the sky, and lands on top of a sky scraper, where he takes his helm off and lets the wind blow through his hair.
He begins to sing.
Spike: High above the mucky muck, castle made of clouds, there sits wonder boy sitting oh so proudly. Not much to say, when you're high above the mucky muck, YEAH.
Spike leaps from the top of the building, flying through the air.
S: Wonderboy. What is the secret of your power? Wonderboy!!! Won't you take me far away from the Mucky-Muck Man!!!
Spike lands on another building, where Jet just happens to be standing on the roof, holding a lightsaber and playing the music on his guitar. Spike looks at him, and nods, drawing his own lightsaber.
S: Now it's time for me to tell you of Young Nastyman, arch rival and nemesis of Wonderboy, with powers comparable to WONDERBOY!!!
Spike and Jet lock in battle.
S: What powers you ask? I dunno... how about the power of flight? That do anything for you? That's levitation, Holmes. How about the power to kill a yak, at 200 yards away, with MIND BULLETS?!??! That's telekinesis, Jet. How about the power. to move you?
Spike and Jet separate in battle, shutting down their lightsabers.
S: History of Wonderboy, and Young Nastyman, a Riga-goo-goo, Riga-goo-goo, a Secret to be told, a gold chest to be bold, and blasting forth with three part harmony, YEOW!!
S: Wonderboy. What is the secret of your power? Wonderboy!!! Won't you take me far away from the Mucky-Muck Man!!!
Spike and Jet clasp hands, and leap over the side of the building.
S: Well Wonderboy and Young Nastyman joined forces; they formed a band the likes of which had NEVER BEEN SEEN, and they called themselves Tenacious D. That's right ME!!! And JB!!
Jet: That's me!!
S: We're now, Tenacious D!!!! Come fly with me, FLY!!!!
Jet whips out his guitar and goes into a beautiful solo for a few moments, as Spike puts his helmet back on. Then, they leap down to the lower levels in search of a fight.
S: Wonderboy. What is the secret of your power? Wonderboy!!! Won't you take me far away from the Mucky-Muck-
He is interrupted as he and Jet are attacked.
S: WHOA!!! Take my hand! Young Nastyman, FLY!!! Bring out your broad sword, There's the Hydra, SLICE HIS THROAT!!! And grab his scroat!!! You take the high road, I'll take the low, There, the crevasse, fill it, with your mighty juice!!!!
Jet and Spike finish their battle, and we fade to black.
_______________________
The end of the SongFic, and the Chapter
_______________________
Authors comments: YEEEEHAAAAWWWWW!!!! That was fun. I heluv loved the cyborg ninja from Metal Gear Solid, and MGS2 too, so I figured, hey, what could be cooler than a Cyber-Spike up on that kind of power? NOTHING AT ALL!!! Actually, I can think of a couple of things, but if this fic goes according to plan, then I can fit all of them in. Heehee. funfun. Oh, if you haven't heard Wonderboy, get it, it will make the songfic that much easier to get. In fact, get the music video too.
What else is there to say. uhh. oh yeah, hope you enjoyed my fight scene, I really worked on that, and even stood in front of a mirror doing all of the moves for it. Ok, well, maybe I just wanted to see how cool I look doing Kung-Fu, but DAMMIT it was HARD!! Heehee.
AgentV: Will I marry you? Are you blonde, female, six feet tall, play volleyball, like dogs, have an interest in all things Star Wars, enjoy swimming, and have a quirky sense of humor, not to mention a killer body? If so, hell yes. But you also have to like many forms of music, including various forms of Death Metal, and the groups Cannibal Corpse and Cradle of Filth.
To Be CONTINUED, Space Cowgirls (YEOW), sooner or later.