Author's Note: Allright now……..this idea just kinda popped into my head outta nowhere during my little
'The Incredibles' obsession. I started this story a few months ago, but I just finished it.
Reasons for finishing it : -Summer Boredom
-I wanted to just plain out finish it and put it up.
This is my VERY FIRST attempt at writing a humor fic……..well, not the first, but my
First at putting up a humor fic.
This is a Incredibles/Family Guy crossover.
Disclaimer: I do not own either Family Guy or The Incredibles.
Dun Dun Dunnnnnnnnnn…………..The Brainless Encounter!
'Finally' Syndrome, also once known as Buddy Pine, thought to himself, 'I will finally be known as the great hero that I was always meant to be. And the greatest part is, is that no Super, especially the "Great" Mr. Incredible, will intervene. None of them can't, anyway.' He smirked.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, Syndrome laughed out loud. His laughter echoed throughout the large room he was in. He didn't stop laughing.
Startled by the extremely sudden noise, Mirage looked up from her work, turn around on her little swivvey chair and looked at Syndrome with an eyebrow raised.
During his laughter, Syndrome, with his eyes closed, turned around on his feet. When he had realized he needed some actual oxygen to laugh some more, he took in a deep amount on air. While doing this he, for some odd strange reason, had to open his eyes. It was then he saw Mirage's expression of confusion. He let go of most of the air he had collected in order to breathe properly.
"What?" he asked, completely dumbfounded by his, in Mirage's point-of-view, random laughter.
After a couple seconds of silence, Mirage put down her eyebrow and gave Syndrome one of those 'you-sad-strange-little-man' looks before swivving back around in her chair and went back to her work, which was writing on paper, or working controls, or whatever the hell she does.
Suddenly, the loud, annoying sounds of the alarm went off. Syndrome quickly covered his ears at the noise. He hated that noise. It was like that of an alarm clock beeping over and over while you're trying to continue having a nice, good sleep. He was really going to have to try to put in some other loud, alarmy noise.
Getting his focus back, Syndrome, along with Mirage, quickly went down to the Security room where all the surveillance systems (cameras, etc.) were.
"What's going on?" Syndrome asked one of the men sitting there.
"There's an intruder on the island, sir." one of the men answered.
"Who?"
"We don't know who he is, sir, but, uh…he appears to have no clothes on his back. And, uh……he's fat, sir."
Syndrome raised an eyebrow.
"Fat?" he asked, confused on how this was important.
"Yes, sir. This guy is enormous. Believe it or not, a couple men ran into the bushes and threw up. They were, um…..disturbed…..by this man's……body."
Syndrome kept his eyebrow raised, and he was as confused as ever. But also kind of curious. He wanted to meet this man. See who he is. (A/N: and not in that way, you sick people!……but I do see why you would think that way 00….)
"Allright." Syndrome told the man, "Give out the instructions to capture this man and bring him here to me. Alive." He paused before realizing he had forgotten something, "Oh, and make sure he is given clothes and that they are put on him. From what I hear, I think I would rather save myself the trouble. Just give him a large uniform or something.
The man nodded.
"Yes, sir."
The man then spoke into a microphone………or whatever they use to contact other people on that island.
"This is security. You have the orders from Syndrome. Bring that, uh, man to……" the man paused before looking at Syndrome, "to where, Syndrome?"
"To my main office………..dope." answered Syndrome.
"Hey!" the man exclaimed to him before going back to the microphone, "Bring the man to Syndrome's main office. And put some clothes on him before doing that, for goddsakes." He moved the microphone back.
Syndrome smirked.
"Excellent" he tapped his fingertips together 'Mr. Burns' style.
…………………………………..20 minutes later
Syndrome sat at his desk as the door opened. A shadow…….a rather large shadow………was pushed into the doors before the doors were immediately shut closed. The reason for the shadow: the lighting wasn't so great by the door.
'Damnit!' Syndrome thought to himself, 'I've told those damn electricians so many goddamn times to switch those lightbulbs!'
"Come in." Syndrome told the 'shadow', "Have a seat and tell me your name."
"Look, buddy, I don't want any trouble – ''
"Sit down and tell me your name."
"No, listen, buddy, I have to get back so I can take my girlfriend to the prom-''
"FIRST OF ALL," Syndrome stood up and yelled, "my name is not BUDDY! Second of all, do what I tell you now, or there will be consenquences!"
"No, you don't understand-''
Syndrome took out his handy – dandy secret, special laser gun and shot at the wall behind the 'shadow' beside his ear.
"Hey!" the 'shadow' exclaimed, "Buddy, you could've actually shot me! What are you, psycho or something?"
"NY NAME IS NOT BUDDY, I SAID!"
In his anger, Syndrome threw the gun at the 'shadow'. The 'shadow' dodged it, but stepped out of the 'shadows' in the process. Syndrome could now finally see him.
"Allright, allright, already. My name is Peter. There, you happy now? Jeez, take a chill pill."
Syndrome quickly calmed down and sat back down on his comfy swivvey chair.
"Peter who?" he asked.
"Peter Griffen. And who's idea was it to give me these kind of clothes? I ain't no soldier."
Syndrome closed his eyes in frustration, trying not to lose himself again.
"No you're not, Mr. Griffen. Because you're not wearing any clothes!"
Peter looked down at himself.
"Oh. Oh, yeah. I guess I missed that."
"How the fuck could you miss that! You're the one who's naked! No one else!"
"Well, excuuuuuse me for not being perfect! You, sir, are not my dad."
"Thank God for that!"
"……………………" Peter looks at the ceiling then back at Syndrome, "I think you're lightbulb is broken."
"Duh! You think!"
Peter put his hands on his ……….uh, hips, and frowned.
"Well, of course. How are you supposed to see where you're going without any light, huh?"
"Shutup! Just shutup and listen to me!" Syndrome yelled at him.
"Hey, do you have any food in this place? I haven't eaten anything in, like, 5 hours."
"AAAARGH! THAT IS IT!"
Syndrome stomped over to the intercom and pressed the button.
"I DON'T CARE WHERE, BUT DUMP THIS GUY INTO THE OCEAN! I WANT ALL MEMORY OF THIS PLACE WIPED FROM HIS MIND, AND MAKE SURE HE NEVER COMES BACK! FOR GODDSAKES, MAKE SURE HE NEVER COMES BACK AGAIN!"
……………………………………10 minutes later
"Wait, wait, no! Can I please have at least a sandwich first?"
"You're fat, guy."
"What?" Peter frowned, "Now you just listen here, I am not fat. I AM BIG-BONED!" Peter sobbed.
"Yeah, whatever. Have a nice trip!"
The guard then shoved Peter off the edge of the helicopter door. Peter's yelling slowly faded until a splash was heard.
Guard # 1, the guy who just pushed Peter off, shut the door.
"What if he dies?" Guard #2 asked.
"Don't worry, he won't." Guard #1 answered, "There's a boat over there anyways. See it? Let them pick him up and deal with him."
……………………..
Hey, man, I couldn't really think of a great ending to end something like this.
My first attempt at humor, remember?
Please R&R. Just tell me what you think. That's it. That's all. That's all that I want. Please? Pretty pretty pretty please?