Author Note: Yay! Good reviews, and lot's of 'em! I would throw a party, but I'm too busy.
Shade: Spoilsport.
...I hope you've enjoyed the use of your legs...
The Obligatory Red Mesan Humour Fic, Chapter 2: Pimp Colin In - Adder Trouble.
"Heh," CO Shade said as he typed. Life was good."This fic is actually pretty good. At least, my reviewers say so."
Aren't you forgetting someone? And stop saying 'life was good'. It's getting tedious.
"Gah!" CO Shade jumped slightly as his muse spoke. "Stop doing that!"
Sorry. But, you have forgotten about something you were going to add.
CO Shade 'ohed' and nodded. "Yeah...very well, time to call in some favours..." He chuckled as he reached for the phone...
And then, the lights went out.
"Oh, bugger it."
---
Hawke smiled slightly as he raised the mug of glorious, majestic, black, swirling, steamy, hot, sweet, dreamy, glorious coffee to his lips. Life was good.
Stop saying that! Also, you said 'glorious' twice.
...Literary licence. Anyway, Hawke allowed himself that small smile as a present for keeping his weekly caffiene intake so low. Even as the black gold spirited him away to a pretty place where the coffee beans grow under a caffiene sun, where chocolate bunnies frolicked and played (until they died of caffiene overdoses), he was aware of a certain miniscule, afroed person appearing in the doorway to his office, but he ignored Lash, too intent on his inner journey to nirvana to really care.
That is, until-
"HI HAAAAWKE!!"
Crash.
Hawke, although he was the most unemotional person on the planet (bar none, not even several British Prime Ministers I know), could not hide his triple-whammy of shock, despair, and homicidal rage. His eyes bugged out as he looked over the shattered remains of his coffee. "My...my..." He looked at Lash. The pint-sized, psychotic inventor with an apparent death wish was grinning widely. "Yeeeeeeeeees?"
"Out. Now." Hawke was barely in control of himself. What he wanted to do was grab Lash by her labcoat, hand her to Flak, and tell him to use the new scrubber on all the toilets in the HQ. He pointed an imperious finger, and stepped forward, onto the remains of his mug.
Now, ladies and gentlemen, there is something you must know about Hawke's coffee. Being a potent mix of sugar, caffiene and god knows what else, this concoction was unlike the coffee normally drunk by you or me. Scientists all over Wars World have tried to test the strength, and usually disappear soon afterwards, their labs replaced by smoking cocoa craters. Hawke's coffee is so strong it has more acidic strength per liter than most oven cleaners (which is really alkaline anyway, but screw chemistry.) Which means-
Crack!
"AGH!"
-Hawke has now broken his ankle in the hole the coffee has burnt in the floor. Ouch.
Lash giggled. "Now I get to play nurse!"
"..." Hawke's face was stuck in a silent scream for the next thirty minutes.
---
"So, shiznizzles, what are we gonna do with our home boy Adder here?" Said Colin the Pimp, twirling his came around and smacking Olaf in the face repeatedly. "Ow. Ow. Well, ow, we, ow, should, ow! Stop doing that!" Olaf growled/spluttered/munched. He had fetched his pork rinds from the previous chapter, and was eating them like they were his last meal on earth. Which it could be, taking a look at his cholesterol levels.
"Hey!" Olaf said, throwing the now-empty packet onto the growing pile in the center of Grit's Nap Couch Room. "It's glandular!" Grit sighed. "Boss, everythin's glandular with ya'. Your beard, your ineptness at commanding, the price of pork rinds...say, where is Adder anyways?" Grit looked around. Colin twirled his cane one more time, smacked the packet out of Olaf's hands, and pointed at the pile of empty packets. "In there, dawg!" As Olaf dived for his packet, Grit strained to listen. Yes, there were faint screaming sounds coming from the depths of the pile. A few seconds later-
"Two-point-oh-four seconds, to be precise," Said Leonard Nimoy, who again resolved his sudden apperance by imploding, then exploding into pink smoke that drifted away.
-Anyway, a few seconds later, Adder's head erupted out of the pile of pork rind packets, gasping for breath. "My face...it's, it's ruined...it smells of pork rinds..." He heaved his revolting, putrid, ghastly body out of the pile, making everyone cringe and turn away, and looked at them. Oh, it can't be that bad, can it?" Adder said, turning to admire himself in the mirror.
"AAAAIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!"
---
"Heeeeeeeeyyy!" Said Andy, as Shade finished securing the ropes tying him to the pole. "Is this safe?" Shade looked around shiftly, eyes darting to and fro. "...Sure...now, I'll just descend back to ground level and leave you here." As Shade was signalling to for the platform he was on to go down, Andy started to whine. "Wait! What am I here for again?" Shade sighed, slapped a hand to his face, and looked up at the most moronic CO in living history (save Flak...actually, no. He IS the most moronic.)
"I'm going to tie you to the lightining rod on our HQ."
"Why?"
"Because then we'll see if you really do have a brain."
"...Wait..."
"Right, cheerio!" Shade grinned and whistled. "Stay conscious as long as you can, you'll really help our weather scientists!" Andy looked visibly...stupid, as Shade descended out of sight. "But it's cold up here, and I'm hungry..."
You're not going to...oh god, you really are a sadistic bastard.
Shade gave a disturbing grin. "It took you that long to find out?" He stepped off the platform, and walked inside the Red Mesan HQ. "Now, let's wait until a storm comes along..."
---
"...So we call up our homie Hawke, tell him we have his brutha, and ransom the shizznizzle for a load of bling, fo' sho'!" Colin said as he detailed his plan to the others. Adder would have protested, but he was currently tied to a chair using a pair of Olaf's long johns. Said Adder was currently screaming like a loon (as much as he could, having been gagged with a packet of Olaf's Jelly Babies), eyes bulging and staring a suspicious skidmark on his makeshift bonds...
"Well than ya'll, let's do this!" Grit said, heaving the screaming Adder onto his back, and departing with the others for the Communications room, a few metres down the hallway.
"MMMMmmmmmffff!"
"Oh, shut up."
---
Half an hour later, the trio (hysterical Adder in tow) piled into the Comm Room. "Half an hour, dawg!" cried Colin. "Grit, why'd ya let our boy Olaf here take a detour to the canteen again?" Grit shrugged. "It shuts him up." Indeed, Olaf was relatively quiet, happily content with shoving Pop Tarts into his face. Only the faint muching sounds and gurgles of happiness could be heard from the undulating pile of flubber.
"Right, mo' fo's, let's do this!" Colin keyed in the frequency for Black Hole on the main computer, and waited.
Connecting to Internet Explorer...
SKREEEEEEEEEEE-AGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-RRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEARRRRRRRRRRRR!
Click.
Connected.
"DAMN YOU, DIAL-UP!! YOU SHIZZNIZZLING BUNCH OF-" Colin stopped mid-rant and stared at the figure on the screen in abject terror.
Master of the Phoenix looked back. "Yes?"
Colin was the first to compose himself. "W-well, homie, we kinda have your boy Adder here with us. We're holding him to ransom, dawg!" Phoenix nodded. "Hawke said you would call soon. His ankle is broken, and Lash is looking after him. Flak's busy not thinking of things, so, being a cameo, they put me in charge of the negotiations."
"..." Adder's face was twisted in a frozen scream of mingled shock, terror, and sudden loss of hope.
"Uh...Adder? There's no sound coming out of your mouth."
"Breathe, buddy, breathe."
---
End of Chapter 2
I'm actually scared to be your muse. You're sadistic and crazy.
The author grinned. "Now you see what happens when the author has too much free time, eh?"
That's the point. You don't.
CO Shade blanched. "Homework...oh crap."
---
Author Note: Well, how was that? Good? Review if you wanted, you may get a cameo as well.
Phoenix: Adder...breathe, buddy...
In Chapter 3, we find out what happened to Andy...and Eagle takes a holiday in Yellow Comet!