Part 52
Boomer and Lance Interlude
By BobCat (Ash is taking a break for this one.) Sorry this took so long.Disclaimer: OK fine, so maybe I did break a few dozen copyrights. But remember, does not the Bible say "let he who is without sin cast the first stone?"
(Stone hits BobCat in the side of the head.)
BobCat: Dammit Sasami, what the hell was that for?!
Sasami: "But you said…"
BobCat: Sigh. Nevermind. Let's just begin this thing, OK?
***********
Quote of the Day: "Power corrupts, but absolute power is kind of neat." Michael A. Stackpole, Ghost War.
***********
Freeza sighed contentedly as the cool breeze whispered across his purple and ivory skin. Today was a very good day for a variety of reasons. For one thing, the mere fact that there was a cool breeze within a hundred miles of himself, much less one close enough to whisper against his skin. Hell isn't known for its cool breezes, be they the whispering kind or not. Actually, the whole whispering thing is rather optional, as it might have only been talking very softly. But whispering makes it sound like literature, as opposed to some plagiarized trash that one would find on the Internet.
Freeza bellowed at the sky, "Get on with it! I haven't got all day!"
Oh, right. Skipping the page or more of planned exposition, this brought him to the single most important detail of it all: he was alive. For nearly fifteen years, that detail, taken for granted by most of the people of the universe, had eluded him. And now, thanks to some fool blabbing the wrong thing to the Eternal Dragon.
A blue haired girl was hovering slightly above him and to his right, supported by an oar. She glowered at Freeza, as if hoping that she could bore holes through the Prince of Transformer-jins. "Watch your step, Freeza. Your life has been restored by chance and chance alone. Try to make something constructive of your life this time."
Freeza laughed, a hard, raspy sound. "Now, Botan, was it? You really expect me to change my ways? My dear, you ought to know me better than that."
Botan said, "It isn't too late to change! If you used your powers for good instead of evil…"
Freeza laughed again, injecting cold humor into his voice. "Good and evil are such arbitrary distinctions. Life inevitably runs down into death, so what difference is there if I expedite the process?" He turned around, smirking. "For the living incarnation of death, you certainly go on like Goku. Now leave, gnat, before I swat you from your ridiculous perch."
Botan sighed. "Very well then. Changing to a less… genocide-centric lifestyle might have saved you. Just so that you know, don't say that I didn't warn you."
Freeza snorted. "Save me from what? Those idiotic monkeys are too far away to notice me in time to save their pathetic little world. By the time they notice that Earth is crumbling around them, I'll be long gone." Freeza fired a bolt of red energy at Botan, missing her by less than a centimeter. "Now begone."
Botan gave her own smirk, followed by a mock bow. "Very well, 'Lord Freeza.' I'll be seeing you shortly." With that, she and her oar ascended into the heavens and were lost among the clouds.
Freeza frowned. "Now what did she mean by that?" He puzzled over the cryptic farewell for a moment, and then brushed it aside. "She only wants to slow me down long enough for those monkeys to show up. Yes, that's it. A self fulfilling prophecy."
He let out a cry as his lanky frame grew. Red and black energy began to seep from his body, flowing into his hands. A gigantic ball of Chi floated in the air before the Transformer-jin, more than enough to vaporize the planet Earth. Sweat trickled down his face from the exertion, but his evil grin never wavered. "Well Goku, you may be the strongest in the universe, but I've still managed to checkmate you. Enjoy your last moments…"
The word "alive" was cut off as a loud engine roared behind him. He turned around just in time to see a large jeep-like vehicle crest the hill behind him, seemingly undeterred by the events going on before it.
Had he not focused his energy into his attack, Freeza might have survived the initial impact. But he had, so he didn't.
After several seconds, Lance stopped the jeep. He turned to his partner. "Hey Boomer, did we hit something?"
The taller man nodded. "I think so. Better back up and check on it."
"Right." Lance put the jeep in reverse, and there was a bump-bump sound as the large wheels went over Freeza's corpse. "Oops, went to far. Better pull ahead." Bump.
Boomer said, "Hey Lance, it's on your side. Check it out."
Lance took a swig of his beer and looked over the edge. "Ew, we hit some kind of big lizard."
Boomer whistled. "Whew! Glad it wasn't anything important."
Overhead, Freeza's disembodied soul ranted and raved at the two soldiers. "Not anything important?" Freeza's fingertip glowed with red energy. "I'LL SHOW HIM NOTHING IMPORTANT!" His aim was true, and a bolt of red energy flew straight into Boomer's heart.
And then went out the other side, as if nothing had happened. In fact, it passed through several other objects before dissipating.
Freeza stuttered, "Wh-what the hell?"
"You're dead, silly. You can't interact with the living."
"What the hell are you talking about?! Goku gets to go back all the time!"
"Different jurisdiction. King Enma may let that kind of stuff fly, but Koenma doesn't." Botan floated down. "I hate to say 'I told you so,' but I did warn you that your path would lead to your destruction. Now come back to hell; Team Rocket needs their mascot."
On the astral plane, the screams of a twice-dead murderer echoed. But nobody could hear him.
Meanwhile, Lance had shifted the car back into drive, and the "Warthog", as the futuristic jeep was called, blazed along the large expanse of emptiness that shouldn't have existed in a territory where those with houses more than six feet apart are considered "the country." Despite a growing pile of empty beer bottles on the floor of the 'hog, Lance's hand was steady on the wheel. They drove in silence for nearly twenty minutes. In this time, the pile of empties had grown even larger, yet copious amounts of booze seemed to have no effect on Lance.
Boomer was an entirely different story. He draped on arm over Lance's shoulders. "Y'know what, Lansh-sh? Yer the b'st friend in the whole wide world. Some idiots like Ivan, or Cypress, or Lance, ya just can't live with 'em." He hiccuped. "But you? Yet the b'st friend in the whole wide world. Have I t'ld ya that la'ley, Lenny?"
Lance sighed. "Time for a sober-up, Boomer." Still driving, Lance reached into his pocket, tore a syringe from its package and jammed it into Boomer's leg.
Boomer shook his head as a powerful enzyme converted all of the alcohol in his bloodstream to sugar. "Aw gee, thanks a lot!" He reached into the cooler and popped the cap from another bottle. "Now I gotta start all over again!"
"You know the rule: the second you start referring to me as a character from the Simpsons, you get a sober-up." The continued along, neither saying a word.
As Boomer finished his third bottle, he turned to his friend. "Say Lance, how much longer do we have on our day pass?"
Lance checked his watch. "We still have ten hours left. See? It's 1:00 AM."
Boomer glanced around. "Um, Lance, the sun's out. I think your watch is dead."
Lance said, "Digital watches don't die! We must be near one of the polar regions."
"I hadn't thought that your ability to judge the passage of time was quite THAT bad, Lance. You do realize that you're both screwed, right?"
Lance cried out in surprise, losing control of the Warthog, which spun out of control. Lance barely managed to avoid smashing into one of Japan's few remaining arroyos. He panted, "Dammit Cypress! Don't do that!"
Boomer blinked. "Wait a second. How did you find us?"
The blond elf settled easily into a seat behind the pair, setting his feet on Boomer's armrest as he leaned back. He was clad in a black tank top and a pair of blue jeans. An incredibly large rifle was strapped on his back, and a bandoleer of ammunition was run down his chest. "I'd tell you, but I'd have to kill you." The glint in his eyes told Lance that the threat was completely real.
Lance muttered something about, "No good smart-ass half-elves." He sighed. "Well Boomer, looks like old Kill-Joy Woods strikes again."
Cypress Woods glared at the truant trooper. "Y'know, this is getting kind of old, considering that YOU are MY commanding officer. I still don't know how you pulled that off."
Lance tugged at the collar of his jacket for a moment. "Well…"
FLASHBACK
A slightly younger Lance sat in the CO's office. "Wait. You want to put ME in command of a power armor squad?"
The man nodded. "Why, private Cameroon, I don't see how you've managed to avoid a promotion as long as you have! Top marks at the academy, a Purple Heart, three Coalition Starbursts for service above and beyond the call of duty, and capturing that entire Battlemech battalion with some duct tape and a Swiss army knife… brilliant!"
Lance began to correct his CO, saying, "But sir, my name's pronounced…" A lightbulb went off over his head. "…Cameroon. Yup, that's how it's pronounced!"
The CO clapped Lance on the shoulder. "I see big things for you, Corporal Cameroon. Big things!"
Lance nodded. "Yes, I, Lance Cameroon, that being my name, as I am commonly known, accept this honor with dignity and sobriety."
END FLASHBACK
Lance shrugged. "Just lucky, I guess."
Boomer said, "So, what's up?"
Cypress grinned. "We've got ourselves a mission. But first, we need to get your gear, and I need to get my big sniper rifle. So turn this jalopy around and let's go." He folded his arms across his chest, closed his eyes and seemed to fall asleep.
Lance put the Warthog into gear and began a U-turn. He muttered, "Ah, go hug a tree."
In a single swift movement, Cypress leveled his supposedly undersized rifle precisely on the back of Lance's head. "You wanna repeat that?"
Lance responded, "Uh, I said Gohan's love ain't free!""That's what I thought." Cypress returned the gun to its strap and returned to his state of demi-sleep. Lance had many more unpleasant comments to make, but he managed to summon enough tact to keep his mouth shut long enough for Cypress to forget the incident.
This was a grand total of five seconds. Although Cypress was known to take potshots at those who annoyed him, he and Lance had an unspoken agreement: Lance wouldn't report said potshots, and Lance would not be the target of said potshots unless he really deserved it. Lance said, "So, now that we've gotten the obligatory introduction of the new character out of the way, why did you track us down just now?"
Boomer interjected, "Yeah, I'd been wondering about that one myself. I mean, we were gone for eight hours."
Cypress responded, "Lieutenant Creel said that every nanosecond away from you was like being upgraded from hell to purgatory. I came because there's a situation."
Lance asked, "What kind of a situation?"
Cypress said, "A two-thirteen."
Boomer said excitedly, "You mean a large, amorphous monster attacking a chocolate factory?"
Cypress nodded. "That's the one."
Boomer pumped his fist. "All right! I can try our my new Man-pack Gauss Rifle!"
Cypress leaned back and closed his eyes again. "Waste as much ordinance as you like; I don't think it'll do much to this one."
Boomer looked absolutely horrified at the concept. "WHAT!? That's impossible! Everything dies if you shoot it enough!"
Cypress grinned slightly, saying "Wanna bet?"
***********
Later…
In Hershey, Pennsylvania, an armored Boomer, almost bereft of ammunition for his Gauss Rifle, grudgingly handed a five-spot to a similarly armored Cypress. "OK, fine. You win. Not everything dies if you shoot it enough." He and Cypress were situated atop a tall building, weapons at the ready.
Cypress nodded, stuffing the dollar bill into an empty spot on his ammunition bandoleer. "I'm glad I finally got you over that misconception. It's not how many bombs you drop, it's where they land that count." He looked down the scope of his sniper rifle, lined up with his target over a kilometer away, and let loose a round large enough to punch through a tank's armor into Buu's gut. "What's important is that anything alive will get distracted if you shoot it enough, which gives us a chance at settling this without nuking Pennsylvania to kingdom come."
Boomer happily queried, "That's still Pan B, right?"
Cypress sighed, "Yes Boomer, that is still Plan B."
Majin Buu was decidedly angry. First, his weeklong chocolate binge screeched to a halt when the plant ran out of cocoa beans. Then, along come these three metal weirdoes who start shooting at him. Sure, the bullets didn't hurt, but the holes that the high velocity ammo left were annoying.
He summoned a ball of pink energy, doing some rough estimates of his targets' range. "Buu make metal man dead!" Evidently, Buu had some form of telescopic vision, as the bolt Boomer squarely in the gut. He was blown backwards by the kinetic impact, but his Chi dampers managed to dissipate the explosive charge. The force was such that Boomer was blown off of the roof. Crying out, he instinctively activated his armor's jump jets. Unfortunately, he clipped a chimney on the building, bending one of the nozzles almost shut. The searing plasma that had been vented through the nozzle built up for a few moments then burst the jump jet altogether. Wailing in surprise, Boomer went off kilter, flying over the left side of the building and slamming through a brick wall at street level.
Boomer stood up, groaning. He leaned through the hole he had just made in the wall. "That's gonna sting in the morning."
As Boomer came into his line of sight, Buu scratched his head. "Huh? Why metal man no go boom?"
"Because going boom no in metal man's contract."
Buu jumped back in surprise at the unexpected noise. He glanced around, looking for the source of the voice. "Huh?" His eyes finally settled on Lance.
Unlike his compatriots, Lance was still dressed in his civilian clothes. Except for a holdout pistol hidden up his shirtsleeve, he was completely unarmed. He had a nondescript box tucked under one arm and a smile on his face. "Hello, I'm Lance. Wanna be my friend?"
Buu's mind stalled for a moment as it attempted to shift from "blow stuff up" mode to "let's make friends" mode. "Huh? You no afraid of Buu?"
"Now why would I be afraid of you? Sure, you're a big, rampaging monster, but I skimmed enough Toonami to know that you're a kind hearted guy at heart. Now have a beer."
Buu was even more confused. "Be…er? What that?"
Lance opened the nondescript box, took out a brew and handed it to Buu. "Here. Drink this. It will solve those nasty homicidal tendencies of yours." He paused for a moment. "Or possibly amplify them. Either way works."
Buu looked at the bottle in his hand suspiciously. He popped open the top with his gloved hand and took a sniff. He put his fingers up to his nonexistent nose. "Bleh! This smell awful! Buu no drink this!"
Lance said in a stern voice, "Now Buu, stop being such a baby! I'm your friend, right? I said this stuff was good. Would I lie to you?"
"Since when you Buu's friend?"
"Since right now, buddy! Now chug!"
Buu, still more than a bit confused, did so. He smacked his lips slightly, pondering the new taste. Sure, the taste was bad, but this new, warm sensation flowing through his stomach felt nice. He gulped down the rest of the bottle and tossed it over his shoulder. "Yum! Buu like!"
Lance offered Buu the rest of the box, and Buu began greedily sucking down the amber liquid. Once the twelve pack was no more, Buu was feeling a bit tipsy. "Buu feel funny, Lance." He hiccuped. "Friend want go kill annoying metal men?"
"But Buu, those are my friends!"
Buu jumped back, growling. "What! You lie to Buu! Buu kill you!" He attempted to summon a Chi bolt, but in his inebriated state, he couldn't concentrate hard enough. After several seconds, Buu gave up.
Lance, ever calm, shook his head. "No Buu. They're my friends, right? And you're my friend, right? So by extension, they're your friends too! And you wouldn't want to kill your friends, would you?"
"Buu's head hurt from the logic and booze."
Lance perked up. "Well alright then! A headache is your body's way of saying it needs more alcohol. So let's go get plastered, friend!"
Buu began jumping up and down happily. "Yeah! Buu have friends, Buu have friends, Buu…", he said, halting his happy jumping, "… have headache. Buu walk instead."
Fifteen Minutes Later, in the skies near Hershey, Pennsylvania…
Spiderman fumed in the back of the Avenger's Quinjet. "For the last time, I was not drunk! There WAS a gigantic pink monster attacking the town."
Iron Man had a pair of wires extending from his right wrist that were linked with a section of the dashboard. "Look, I've been down that path too, but AA can give you a hand. You obviously have some sort of problem. We checked the town top to bottom, and while there were signs of a struggle, there was no ' pink monster.'" The wires retracted back into the gauntlet. "And sensors show no sign of anything airborne for a hundred miles. So reject this fantasy. Remember, the first step is to acknowledge that something is wrong."
In the back seat, the Thing and the Human Torch were behaving much like any children on a long trip. Johnny Storm said, "Aren't we there yet?"
Thing shoved him. "Move over, Matchstick! Yer in my seat!"
The Torch glared back. "What!? You're in my seat! Flame On!" His body burst into flames, causing the Thing to cry out in surprise.
"Why you little! It's…"
Johnny screamed, "I am getting so sick of this! If you say 'it's clobberin' time' one more time, I'm going to use a Nova Flare right here and now!"
The Thing grinned. "You know what I have to say to that? Clobberin' time, Clobberin' time, CLOBBERIN' TIME!" Assorted Avengers scattered as the plane began rocking as several hundred pounds of orange-skinned man leapt as his teammate.
Captain America turned back from the pilot's seat. "If you two don't cut that out right now, I'm turning this airplane around!"
The Invisible Woman was massaging her forehead and counting back from ten. Reed Richards, seated next to Captain America, faced his oft-time ally. "I'm so sorry about this. The boys are usually so well behaved! If the Fantasti-Car hadn't been stolen…"
Spiderman dodged a fireball and said, "Ah ha! Proof that something was going on there!"
Sue Richards muttered, "Not this time. SOMEONE left the keys in the ignition. Some kids probably are just joyriding."
The Thing paused in midargument, saying "Ah geeze, Suzie! It ain't my fault! If the Human Spark over here hadn't distracted me…"
"You lie!" shouted Johnny.
Reed spun his ultra-flexible neck around. "Besides, from your drunken description of this being, he lacked the intellectual fortitude to operate a lighter, much less an advanced craft like the Fantasti-Car!"
**************
Meanwhile, aboard the hijacked Fantasti-Car…
For the third time in as many seconds, Cypress was forced to hold down his lunch. "Remind me why we let the pink thing drive!"
Lance responded over the gale, "The pilot's seat was the only one big enough for him!"
Cypress suppressed his vomit reflex again. "And WHY did we steal the Fantasti-Car?"
Boomer fielded this question. "Why, to give Buu a ride back to base! Our transport only carries three!"
Cypress responded, "Did you ever think that HE could fly on his own?"
Quote Lance: "Oops."
"Now Buu try barrel roll!"
Cypress moaned the moan of a lost soul. Damn airsickness…
End Part 52
Note to Little Shannon: See? No plot element is ever just dropped. This was all planned from the start. As for my being disturbed, well, that is true. However, most of the non-humorous variety of disturbed-ness is written or inspired by Ash the Wanderer.
********************OMAKE*********************
A dignified man in a red robe sat before a cheery fire in an old, Victorian era mansion. He was currently perusing one of the large volumes on the bookshelf, which at first glance looked like the works of such greats as Hemmingway and Shakespeare, but in actuality were every Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys book ever written. He was smoking a pipe, but looked up from The Secret of Pirate Cove, or Possibly Pirate Cave, Which Will Obviously Involve Smugglers of Some Kind, Like in Every Other Damned Hardy Boys Book Ever Made, when he saw that he had company. "Ah! welcome! I'm George Generic, and this is Our of Character Theater. We have presented such greats as "Cardcaptor Sakura on Crack," and "Goku Masters Trigonometry." Tonight, we bring to you "Piccolo's School Daze." The camera faded, and then resolved into a stage.
Piccolo was wearing a straight jacket, and Lance used a tazer to force him out onto the stage.
The Namek glared at the camera. "I'm not doing it." Lance zapped him. "Argh! OK, fine." He took a deep breath. "OK, one time I hired a monkey…"
Lance zapped him again. "Do the voice!"
Piccolo growled, and took another deep breath. This time, his voice was a perfect imitation of Brak from "Space Ghost Coast to Coast." "OK, one time I hired a monkey to take notes for me in class. I would just sit there with a complete blank while the monkey scribbled on little pieces of paper. At the end of the week, the teacher said, 'Alright, I want you to write a paper using your notes,' so I wrote a paper that said, 'Hello, my name is Bango, and I like to climb on things. Can I have a banana? Eek Eek.' I got an F. When I told my mom about it, she said, 'I told you never trust a monkey!' The End." He turned to Lance and glared. "OK, I said it. Now turn off this Reality Checker before I rip you a new one!"
Lance
raised an eyebrow in a questioning manner. "Right…" the trooper spoke as he
nodded, "…sure you will… wait… wait…" he placed a single finger in the middle
of the alien's forehead. "…No." With
that he gave a slight shove, causing Piccolo to stumble backward. As he did so,
he tripped over one of the many power cords crisscrossing the stage and
proceeded to perform a headfirst landing with all the grace of a hippopotamus
descending from a low orbit.
Lance whistled a happy tune as he wandered off. Piccolo's voice became panicked. "Hello? This isn't funny!" The lights turned off, leaving the tied Namek in the dark. As the camera faded out, he muttered, "Oh, I am so going to kill my agent for this."
