RR76: Well, I'm back. I've kept you all good and waiting, and so now I unveil my next chapter. After a long time in preperation, here comes Chapter...13? 14? ...15! Of Pre Teen Titans, GO! Chapter 15 is called "TRUCK," and does indeed parody "TROQ." So...enjoy.
NOTE: The following characters are owned by the following people/corperations:
Crow T. Robot and "the Mads.": Best Brains, inc.
Bluejay Thumkin: Steve Odekirk
HK-47: LucasArts, ltd
The Three Surprise Characters: Matt Groening
Now read. Or suffer the Dire Consequences of Pain and Emossity (tm)
Emosity: (def) The quantities of one's emo, the status of being a whiny, self-centered little bitch.
Somewhere in the vast vastness of the universe, sailed a large, tortellini-shaped spaceship. The ship was the flagship of the Democratic Order of Planets, or "DOoP," the Nimbus.
Aboard this fair vessel stood the greatest hero of DOoP: Captain Zap Brannigan, and his loyal first officer, First Mate Kif.
"Ahh, Kif," Zap breathed. "Is this not a glorious day to be afloat in the great empty fishless ocean of the universe?"
"You just sent 60,000 men on a suicidal charge onto an alien compound, sir," Kif said in his usual monotone. "I hardly believe this day is glorious."
"Maybe not for them," Zap continued, "but for us, it is, I say." Kif groaned.
Suddenly, the Alarm of Impending Doom and Mayhem sounded. "Sir, it appears more enemy vessles followed us from Crispixia," Kif informed Zap.
"Ahh, Crispixia...where have I heard that name before?"
"It's the name of the planet you just failed to conquer."
"No, no, foolish boy, I think it's the name of the planet I just tried to conquer."
"That's what I just--"
"No matter! Launch all secondary ships, and send them straight at the heart of the attack force!"
Kif tapped a button. "All of our secondary ships were destroyed in the first battle of Crispixia."
"Destroyed? Why was I not informed?" Zap demanded.
"You were the one who gave the order to--hell, forget it." Kif sighed.
"Kif, your incompitence astounds me at times. Very well! Set a course for that particular planet, over there."
Kif stared at Zap in shock. "But sir, that's--"
"Do as you're told, or so help me, I will snap you back down to lieutenant so fast it'll make your air bladders deflate and reinflate sixteen seperate times in the span of eight seconds!"
Meanwhile, on that very planet...
"Okay Sunburn, I got the royal flush," Crow gloated, "let's see your pair."
Sunburn, clearly uncomfortable in her red skirt and white bra, slid one strap off her top, but before she could satisfy the hormones of the pre-teen shapeshifter and the movie-lampooning robot, a tremendous, onomotopiatic sound that would make Saint H blush sounded overhead.
"Oh no! It's the Underpants Knomes!" Creature Kid shrieked. "Run Garfield, run!"
Blowbot slapped him. "Be silent, overly-sexual pre-adolescent. It is merely the sound of several extra-terrestrial spacecraft flying overhead at appx. 200 miles per hour."
"Oh."
The others were silent, then shrugged and went back to watching Sunburn strip.
"Armor down to 15 percent sir. We won't survive another hit like that."
"Hmm...Kif, this battle is just like a game of Chinese checkers."
"Sir, I hardly think this is the time for--"
"Not now Kif! Luncheon can wait!"
"Mmmmfff..."
"In Chinese checkers, you must position each piece carefully, setting them upright in the proper alignment so as not to cause them all to tip over, but...but golly, it's fun to watch them do that! You put them all in a line, and they start falling down, and--"
"Sir, armor is destroyed. We should seriously consider evacuating. And those were dominoes you were describing, not checkers.
"Dammit Kif, don't you pay attention? Our armor is down, this is no time to be discussing pizza!"
Kif groaned.
"I do not comprehend the need for this bizarre form of gambling. Are you sure this is a legal form of entertainment on Earth?" Sunburn asked as she pulled her clothes back on.
A very content Creature Kid was too busy drooling over the several pictures he had taken. "What? Yeah, sure, put me down for six boxes."
And LO! A plothole opened and sucked the PTT into Central Park, where they witnessed the battle between the Nimbus and the aliens.
Bluejay groaned. "Thith ith theriouthly mething with my coif. Blowbot, blow them!"
"It shall be done, homosexual poultry-impersonator." Blowbot raised his Blowcannon, and...
F-ZZZAAAPPP-A-DINGY-DOODLE-SNIPPER!
The aliens were blown, and the Nimbus landed to greet their saviors. Out stepped Zap Brannigan, with Kif in tow.
"You have saved my life, and for that, I am grateful. Now, I shall bribe you to change the story to me saving your hides from terrible utter destruction. How much, fifty?"
"Seventy," countered Creature Kid.
"Sir," Kif said, catching Zap's attention. He whispered something in the bumbling captain's ear.
"Ahem, people, my oft-misguided first officer ('Mmmmfff...') has brought something to my attention. With the kind of power you showed in destroying the enemies I was fighting, you could very easily--" He suddenly caught sight of Sunburn.
"...Well, hello there. My fair lady, you have the look of a woman whose beauty can surely be traced back to the lines of the noblest of rulers. Allow me to introduce myself. I am--"
"Captain Zap Brannigan," she finished. "Twenty-five star general, conqueror of the pacifists of the Ghandi nebula and subjigator of the Retiree people of the Assisted-Living solar-system. I know of you."
"Why," Zap purred, "my reputation must preceed me."
"Actually, you invaded my homeworld seventeen times and slaughtered millions of my people because you thought we had stolen your lunchbox when you were nine."
"Well, I never did find that lunchbox," Zap shot back.
"Sir, your mother threw that lunchbox out after the back melted off in a fire."
"Don't you EVER speak that way about my mother--"
Suddenly, the plot advanced. The PTT were assembled in the Nimbus' dining room, watching a slideshow briefing.
"You see, the Democratic Order of Planets was recently invaded by an army of evil mutated-cereal men," Zap explained. "They had first originated when all breakfast cereals were banned from my homeworld of Earth--which is very much like your homeworld of H'trae, remarkably so, so similar that it's almost--but I digress."
"In the year 2990, an uprising began. Led by one Lucky Leprochan and funded by the hordes of money stashed away by the ruler of Transylvania, a 'Count Chocula,' the invaders succeeded in leaving much of my world in ruins. I, of course, was but a Private in the Space Marines when it began, but my mentor and father figure, Admiral Fried Finnigan, drove them offworld, slaughtering Leprochan's lieutenants, Captain Alfred Crunch and two-star general Crackle, in the process. We never did catch Snap and Pop though."
"Recently, though, a force of spacefaring creatures have begun to encroach on our borders. They call themselves, 'The Crispix."
The PTT shuddered.
"I led an army to their homeworld of Crispixia, where I used the same strategy I had used against the army of Killbots: I sent wave after wave of my own men in to be slaughtered, in order to get the Crispix to reach their preset kill limit and shut down. But they had no such kill limit. Personally, I place the blame on poor planning by my incompitent first mate, Kif."
"It was your idea, fatso," Kif muttered.
"But with your help, perhaps I can finally defeat the Crispix and rid the universe of their scourge." Loud whispering was heard on the soundtrack, like in those cartoons where there's a huge crowd and somebody drops a bombshell. But it's not a bombshell, it's a Big Damn bit of News. Dumbass. Go run laps!
"I must warn you: The journey will be long and ar-druid-us, and it is likely that most of you, if not all of you, will die horribly, and those that do survive will get little-to-no credit, which will all go to me, and should the operation go badly, blame will be placed on you...and Kif, of course. Do you accept this challenge?"
"Hellz yeah!" came the collective response.
"Excellent! We leave immedietly! Do you have anybody to watch the house while we're away?"
Bluejay considered this for a moment. "Hmmmm," considered he.
"Right, tho to go over the ruleth one latht time..."
"No smoking in the lounge, nobody under 18 may be topless at any given time, and don't take candy from strangers," answered the Plot Convenient Knight. "I think I've got this down, homosexual digit."
"And if any homithidal roboth come by?"
"I will cower in the corner in the fetal position."
"Exthactly! And why ith that?"
"Because I'm a worthless sunuvabitch?"
"Good job! Help yourthelf to a glath of thex, there'th about half a bottle left in the 'fridge. Bye cutie!" And with that, the Nimbus soared away.
The P-C-K shrugged, went to the fridge, and poured himself a tall glass of sex. He sipped it cautiously. "Not bad..."
Elseware...
"Frank, did you move the Aimlessly-Blinking Button machine into the back room like I asked?"
"Yes I did, Dr. F."
"What about the Meaningless Spinning-Blade machine?"
"Oh, you wanted me to move that too?"
"Frank, pull it together! Everything has to be perfect for next chapter, or we'll miss out on our opportunity!"
HK-47, noticing the inherent chaos, piped up. "Query: What, exactly, is the grey-haired overweight meatbag doing Master?"
"We need to get our Delightfully Viciously Evil Plan up and running, but we're well behind schedual."
"Clay, what do you want me to do with the Soft Beeping-Noise machine?"
"Uh, just drop that off anywhere, we're gonna need that."
"Observation: Your lack of preparedness may contribute to your lacking of other workers. Perhaps you wish for me to locate another meatbag slave, who would labor at your disposal?"
"That's quite all right, Frank and I have been doing this for ages now."
"And you know what they say," a new voice piped in. "Out with the old, in with the new."
A fire-red elevator appeared out of nowhere, and out stepped a burnt-orange evil-looking robot.
"Oh, it's you. What do you want now?"
"I'm here to announce," the newcomer declared, "that you've officially been pulled from the project. The Council wants someone more...hands-on...to lead this."
"'Hands on?'" protested Dr. Clayton Forrester, mad-genius extraordinare. "You never do anything! You sit there in Robot Hell and wait for robots to fall in!"
"Be that as it may, the fact remains: You're gone. Pack your things, and leave."
"Clay?" asked Dr. Forrester's lab assistent, TV's Frank. "What's going on?"
"...Nothing. We have to go now, Frank. Pack a suitcase and let's leave."
Frank's eyes bubbled. "Will...will I still get to tend the rabbits Clay?"
"I don't know, Frank. I don't know anymore..."
With that, they were gone. HK-47 stood there looking bemused. "Suggestion: Perhaps I may be of some use to to you? As you can see, I am a marvel of technology, much like yourself, and have many unique talents, not the least of which is the ability to burn holes through meatbags from a long distance."
"Hmmm," considered he. "I suppose I could use a robot of your talents. What's your name?"
"Indignent answer: I am no robot, good sir. I am an HK-model assassin, the only one of my kind."
"Eh, same dif."
"Statement: You are not a particularly courteous master, Master. I believe I'll like working with you."
Elseware...
As HK-47 settled in with his new master, the Pre Teen Titans soared through space, aboard the Nimbus, listening to Zap Brannnigan recite tale after tale of heroic feats.
"So there I was. I and my crew were hovering, miles above the surface of planet Eden-Seven. The fools down there, eating their apples and walking in the nude like the sinister beasts they were, had no clue what was about to happen."
"So what did happen, 'Cosmic Crusader'?" Sunburn asked, drenching the title in as much sarcasn as she could muster.
"Well, my luscious, bright red beauty, we soared down, and dropped our entire payload on the surface. Every man down there was a blackened mess, now stuck to the ground like a...a...hmmm...Kif! Thesaurus!"
With a groan, Kif handed Zap the thesaurus, and went back to preparing the captain's coffee.
"...Aha! They stuck to the ground like something black and sticky!" Zap beamed with pride. "Now, let me tell you about my conquest of the Assisted-Living solar system..."
Suddenly, a blast rocked the ship. "Kif! We're under attack! Shoot them and make them go away!"
"It's not that simple, sir," Kif replied, looking into a monitor. "We've reached Crispixia."
"Hmm, Crispixia...that name sounds enticingly familiar..."
"Captain Brannigan," said Blowbot, "I believe the normal strategy at this point would be to disarm their outer defenses, and land a strike force on the surface with the intention of blowing all opposition."
Zap laughed. "My young friend, that's not at all what we must do! No, I have faced this same situation a hundred-hundred times...what you must do is stare death in the eye, and get inside the head of your enemy. You must understand the enemy, BE the enemy, make love to the enemy as you would make love to a woman: hard, fast, with brief periods of uncontrollable sobbing...then back to hard and fast, and finally--"
"Sir, we landed ten minutes ago, and the prepubescent warriors have already advanced to the gates of their palace."
"I see...well, is my coffee ready?"
"Yes sir," Kif said submissively, and handed Zap his coffee.
Zap took one sip, then spat it out in disgust. "This has Coffee Creamer in it! Go back and fill it with urine like I asked!" He tossed the cup at Kif with disdain.
Kif groaned.
Minutes later, Zap Brannigan had joined the Pre-Teen Titans at the gates of the Crispixian Royal Palace. "Shall we press onward?" he said in an odd tone, and entered the palce.
Inside stood a leprochaun. He wore an all-green suit and a worn green top hat. He had a thick red beard, red hair, and one of his eyes was missing. In either hand he held an M-16. "Begorrah!" he shouted. "Zap Brannigan be after me lucky charms!"
"Lucky Leprochaun," Zap said. "When last we met, you had a beer gut, no pants, a sexuality that was in question, seventeen different sexually transmitted diseases, and was clean-shaven. Now, it seems fate has been reversed for us."
"Ye nary can win, Brannigan!" Lucky cackled. "Me Crispix armies be conquerin' your little dOOp, and thar be nothin' ye can do to stop us!" With an insane laugh, he lowered the cages holding his Crispix warriors, and they charged.
"Pre-Teen Titans, attack!" cried Bluejay. Producing a Jayarang, he slashed outward at one of the Crispix. The metal blade snapped upon contact with the cereal piece's hard exterior.
"No, you fools!" cried Zap. "Their wheat sides are too hard and crunchy! You must hit them on their softer, less crunchy corn-sided underbellies!"
The PTT did as he suggested, and soon gained the upper hand. Zap, however, sensed defeat.
"Kif, my friend, the author has decreed that I sense defeat right about now, and it is so. We must withdraw!"
"But sir, they outnumber the Crispix 2-1."
"Yes, Kif, but in battle, one who is on top may very easily be subverted. He may suddenly find himself on the bottom, submissively recieving several blows...much like making love to a woman."
"Ugh..."
"To the Nimbus, my old friend! We can still excape!"
"What about the children, sir?" asked Kif with uncertainty.
"My prayers are with them. Now hurry!"
Kif and Zap bolted for their ship. Meanwhile, the PTT had overcome the Crispix, and slowly advanced on Lucky.
"This nay be over, lads and lasses!" he crowed. "I be comin' back, and next time, none o'ye be survivin'!" Laughing maniacally, he turned on his Plot-Convenient Jetpack and soared upward...until he hit the roof, splattered his head open, and died a Horrible Horrible Death (tm).
The PTT shrugged.
Hours later, they stumbled into the P-Tower, and collapsed on the couch.
"Well, that was all well and good," groaned Creature Kid, "except for the part where Zap Brannigan abandoned us."
"I never got to say goodbye..." sighed Crow.
"I never got to lick hith mighty genitalth..." sighed Bluejay.
"When next we meet Zap Brannigan, I assume we shall be blowing him?" inquired Blowbot.
"Yes, Blowbot..." said Sunburn. "Blow him we shall."
Meanwhile...
"Ah, Kif...it is good that we escaped with our lives. By the way, did you catch the number of that Sunburn chick?"
"Sir, she's twelve years old."
"I-she--what! But she looked so...mature!"
"I know. Shocking."
"Damn it all! I had it all planned out too! I was going to seduce her, and we would start making love...and making love is a complicated thing. There are techniques, and intricacies... much like making love to a woman..."
Kif groaned.
I promise, I WILL get Ascension up before too long. I swear it.
In the meantime, I do hope this tides you over.
-RR76