Author's Note: Damn, that last chapter must have sucked, 'cause I only got
two reviews. Poor me. *sniff* Aw well, roll the disclamer.
Disclamer: No, I don't own LoD, Starbucks, Zippo Lighters, John Ashcroft, or any other copyrighted or in any way reserved thing in this forsaken fic! ARE YOU PEOPLE HAPPY?
This chapter is brought to you by an insane author with a very odd song stuck in his head.
Chapter 4
*The gang is assembled (sort of) back in the lobby. Doel and Haschel have been revived. Lloyd has obviously had too many lattes again, and is bouncing around almost as much as Meru on a sugar high. Speaking of Meru, she is STILL twirling around in circles for no reason. Kongol is holding about a dozen stuffed animals in his massive arms. Albert is, as usual, obscured behind an enormous pile of books. Lavitz is smoking again. Dart is playing around with Zippo and a roll of magnesium tape Striker gave him to keep him quiet (Magnesium tape ROCKS. One of the many tools of a pyromaniac.). Doel is muttering something about buttered popcorn and the damned author. Greham, Haschel, and Miranda are standing around doing nothing. Shana is STILL missing, but upon an attempt to revive her Striker has learned that she is NOT dead.*
Dart: *lights another strip of magnesium* Whee! Bright flashes... seeing spots in front of eyes... aw, who cares? *does it again just for kicks* BUUUUUURN!
Lavitz: You shouldn't have given him that.
Striker: Probably. Now I'm out of magnesium tape!
Lavitz: -_- *sigh* Nevermind.
Meru: *spinning in circles* Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee- *deep breath* eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeee! *faints from lack of oxygen*
Striker: O_o Well, at least she's quiet...
Kongol: Fuzzy animals...
Albert: Knowledge...
Lloyd: CAFFINE!
Doel: Popcorn...
Miranda: &#$%...
Striker: *snaps* Shh! Do you hear that?
All minus Meru: *listen* What?
Meru: *still out cold*
Striker: Listen to the sound... of silence.
All minus Meru: *still listening*
Albert: Ooooh! A deep philisophical enigma...
Striker: SHH! You're inturrupting the silence.
Albert: *shuts back up and listens*
Striker: That should keep them busy for a while. *sneaks off*
Kongol: Kongol not hear anything.
All minus Kongol and Meru: SHH!
************************************************************************
*Several minutes later, Striker is standing outside a donut shop*
Striker: Well, I guess this place will do as well as any... *goes inside* *whispers to the owner, and hands him a large briefcase filled with cash*
Store Owner: *nods* *places a sign outside the door that reads 'Attorney Generals Eat Free!'
John Ashcroft: *happens to be walking by* Wow! How coincidental! *goes inside, and is immediately surrounded by chattering donut shop... erm... people*
Striker: *walks out of the shop in a suit and a John Ashcroft mask* Here we go... *walks over to a random area of the mall* *takes his plastic tricycle out of a dumpster* *presses the hidden button and it becomes the Super Humungo Motortricycle of Doom* Heh, heh... *revvs up engine*
Shana: *stumbles drunkenly in front of the SHMoD* Where is everyone?
Striker: *ACCIDENTALLY (heh) runs her over*
Shana: *is bloody smear on ground*
Striker: *drives around causing wanton destruction (but not hurting anyone) while singing Bicycle Races at the top of his lungs* You say coke, I say caine, you say John, I say Wayne, hot dog, I say cool it man! I don't wanna be the President of the United States of America! You say smile, I say cheese! Cartier, I say please! Income tax, I say Jesus! I don't wanna be a candidate for Vietnam or Watergate, all I wanna do is bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle! *runs off an overhang, using it as ramp* WEEDOG! *blasts the torso off a statue that was within his path of trajectory*
*A limo pulls up, and who should get out but the President of the United States of America (how ironic)*
Bush: What the hell is going on?
Mall Cop: Erm... The Attorney General appears to be driving around on a giant three-wheeled motorcycle and blowing things up.
Bush: Do I look blind to you? WHY is he blowing things up?
Mall Cop: *shrugs*
Striker: *spots the President* Excellent. Time for Phase 2. *runs into the donut shop*
Donut Shop Owner: *shoves the real Ashcroft out of the store with a bag of donuts*
Bush: Care to explain yourself?
Ashcroft: O_o Explain what?
Bush: *indicates destroyed section of mall*
Ashcroft: What about it?
Bush: We saw you do it!
Ashcroft: Uh... no, I didn't.
Striker: *back in normal clothes* I saw him! Look what he's got in the bag! *snatches the bag of donuts*
Ashcroft: Hey, you can't do that!
Striker: Search and seizure. You authorized it yourself.
Ashcroft: Well, yeah... but only for citizens! I am above the law!
Striker: Not anymore! *takes a donut out of the bag*
Ashcroft: See? It's just a donut!
Striker: We'll see about that. *throws it at a nearby wall* *donut explodes* See! He has a bag of plastic explosives cleverly disguised as donuts!
Ashcroft: But...
Bush: Zip it! You're stripped of your position and you're going to that prison in Cuba (So I can't remember the name. Sue me.)!
Ashcroft: NOOOO! Must... oppress... American citizens!
Striker: *smacks him over the head* Quiet, scumbag!
Ashcroft: *is carted off*
Striker: *waits until they are out of sight, then pulls out his list of Top Offenders of Civil Liberties* *crosses off John Ashcroft* One down! The joys of working for the good of mankind...
Shana: *is bloody mess on ground*
Striker: Well, SOME of mankind...
************************************************************************
*Striker and the revived Shana walk back to the group, who are still listening to the silence, including Meru, who has regained consciousness.*
Striker: OK, silence time over!
Albert: I feel enlightened.
Striker: -_- Sometimes I worry about you people.
Lavitz: *lights a cigarette* OK, so what now?
Striker: Well, Shana had a suggestion...
Dart: You're listening to her?
Striker: *shrugs* I'm out of ideas. Sue me.
Doel: This better not involve hugging trees, or heads will roll.
Striker: Nope! We're going to get psychotherapy!
All: *scream*
************************************************************************
Author's Note: OK, that chappy sucked, but it gave me my opportunity to bash John Ashcroft. I hate him. I really do. Anyway, next chappy will be better, because the Dragoons go and get psychoanalyzed! Whee!
Disclamer: No, I don't own LoD, Starbucks, Zippo Lighters, John Ashcroft, or any other copyrighted or in any way reserved thing in this forsaken fic! ARE YOU PEOPLE HAPPY?
This chapter is brought to you by an insane author with a very odd song stuck in his head.
Chapter 4
*The gang is assembled (sort of) back in the lobby. Doel and Haschel have been revived. Lloyd has obviously had too many lattes again, and is bouncing around almost as much as Meru on a sugar high. Speaking of Meru, she is STILL twirling around in circles for no reason. Kongol is holding about a dozen stuffed animals in his massive arms. Albert is, as usual, obscured behind an enormous pile of books. Lavitz is smoking again. Dart is playing around with Zippo and a roll of magnesium tape Striker gave him to keep him quiet (Magnesium tape ROCKS. One of the many tools of a pyromaniac.). Doel is muttering something about buttered popcorn and the damned author. Greham, Haschel, and Miranda are standing around doing nothing. Shana is STILL missing, but upon an attempt to revive her Striker has learned that she is NOT dead.*
Dart: *lights another strip of magnesium* Whee! Bright flashes... seeing spots in front of eyes... aw, who cares? *does it again just for kicks* BUUUUUURN!
Lavitz: You shouldn't have given him that.
Striker: Probably. Now I'm out of magnesium tape!
Lavitz: -_- *sigh* Nevermind.
Meru: *spinning in circles* Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee- *deep breath* eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeee! *faints from lack of oxygen*
Striker: O_o Well, at least she's quiet...
Kongol: Fuzzy animals...
Albert: Knowledge...
Lloyd: CAFFINE!
Doel: Popcorn...
Miranda: &#$%...
Striker: *snaps* Shh! Do you hear that?
All minus Meru: *listen* What?
Meru: *still out cold*
Striker: Listen to the sound... of silence.
All minus Meru: *still listening*
Albert: Ooooh! A deep philisophical enigma...
Striker: SHH! You're inturrupting the silence.
Albert: *shuts back up and listens*
Striker: That should keep them busy for a while. *sneaks off*
Kongol: Kongol not hear anything.
All minus Kongol and Meru: SHH!
************************************************************************
*Several minutes later, Striker is standing outside a donut shop*
Striker: Well, I guess this place will do as well as any... *goes inside* *whispers to the owner, and hands him a large briefcase filled with cash*
Store Owner: *nods* *places a sign outside the door that reads 'Attorney Generals Eat Free!'
John Ashcroft: *happens to be walking by* Wow! How coincidental! *goes inside, and is immediately surrounded by chattering donut shop... erm... people*
Striker: *walks out of the shop in a suit and a John Ashcroft mask* Here we go... *walks over to a random area of the mall* *takes his plastic tricycle out of a dumpster* *presses the hidden button and it becomes the Super Humungo Motortricycle of Doom* Heh, heh... *revvs up engine*
Shana: *stumbles drunkenly in front of the SHMoD* Where is everyone?
Striker: *ACCIDENTALLY (heh) runs her over*
Shana: *is bloody smear on ground*
Striker: *drives around causing wanton destruction (but not hurting anyone) while singing Bicycle Races at the top of his lungs* You say coke, I say caine, you say John, I say Wayne, hot dog, I say cool it man! I don't wanna be the President of the United States of America! You say smile, I say cheese! Cartier, I say please! Income tax, I say Jesus! I don't wanna be a candidate for Vietnam or Watergate, all I wanna do is bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle! *runs off an overhang, using it as ramp* WEEDOG! *blasts the torso off a statue that was within his path of trajectory*
*A limo pulls up, and who should get out but the President of the United States of America (how ironic)*
Bush: What the hell is going on?
Mall Cop: Erm... The Attorney General appears to be driving around on a giant three-wheeled motorcycle and blowing things up.
Bush: Do I look blind to you? WHY is he blowing things up?
Mall Cop: *shrugs*
Striker: *spots the President* Excellent. Time for Phase 2. *runs into the donut shop*
Donut Shop Owner: *shoves the real Ashcroft out of the store with a bag of donuts*
Bush: Care to explain yourself?
Ashcroft: O_o Explain what?
Bush: *indicates destroyed section of mall*
Ashcroft: What about it?
Bush: We saw you do it!
Ashcroft: Uh... no, I didn't.
Striker: *back in normal clothes* I saw him! Look what he's got in the bag! *snatches the bag of donuts*
Ashcroft: Hey, you can't do that!
Striker: Search and seizure. You authorized it yourself.
Ashcroft: Well, yeah... but only for citizens! I am above the law!
Striker: Not anymore! *takes a donut out of the bag*
Ashcroft: See? It's just a donut!
Striker: We'll see about that. *throws it at a nearby wall* *donut explodes* See! He has a bag of plastic explosives cleverly disguised as donuts!
Ashcroft: But...
Bush: Zip it! You're stripped of your position and you're going to that prison in Cuba (So I can't remember the name. Sue me.)!
Ashcroft: NOOOO! Must... oppress... American citizens!
Striker: *smacks him over the head* Quiet, scumbag!
Ashcroft: *is carted off*
Striker: *waits until they are out of sight, then pulls out his list of Top Offenders of Civil Liberties* *crosses off John Ashcroft* One down! The joys of working for the good of mankind...
Shana: *is bloody mess on ground*
Striker: Well, SOME of mankind...
************************************************************************
*Striker and the revived Shana walk back to the group, who are still listening to the silence, including Meru, who has regained consciousness.*
Striker: OK, silence time over!
Albert: I feel enlightened.
Striker: -_- Sometimes I worry about you people.
Lavitz: *lights a cigarette* OK, so what now?
Striker: Well, Shana had a suggestion...
Dart: You're listening to her?
Striker: *shrugs* I'm out of ideas. Sue me.
Doel: This better not involve hugging trees, or heads will roll.
Striker: Nope! We're going to get psychotherapy!
All: *scream*
************************************************************************
Author's Note: OK, that chappy sucked, but it gave me my opportunity to bash John Ashcroft. I hate him. I really do. Anyway, next chappy will be better, because the Dragoons go and get psychoanalyzed! Whee!