I do not own any of the internet personalities or memes presented in this story.

The Internet Police: Year in Review

Prey, Part 1

February was the shortest month of the year, even when accounting for the extra days added during leap years. The month of February was based on a Latin term for purification, in reference to a Roman purification ritual that occurred around February. For the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd, they knew that purification involved driving out evil spirits, and on Groundhog Day in February, the Critic and Nerd were in their new Boston offices trying to solve cases as a means of purifying the world in their own manner.

"I just received a report from Punxsutawney Phil. In his infinite wisdom, he concluded that there will six more weeks of winter," stated the Critic using a video phone to communicate with the Nerd.

"Guess we'll be experiencing the harsh winds of winter before the calmness of spring," commented the Nerd through a video phone. "Now what case are you working on now? The rumored War of European Succession or the mysterious signals coming from Idaho."

"The mysterious signals coming out of Idaho," said the Critic. "The rumored War of European Succession is just that. A rumor."

"I don't think the War of European Succession is a rumor. I am tracking increased mafia activity throughout the European continent. I fear this is a prelude to something disastrous in the coming months, something like a war on a scale not seen since World War II," said the Nerd.

"You're being paranoid," said the Critic. "I'm sure the Europeans can handle it on their own. We have more pressing matters in America. I think we should concentrate all our attention on interpreting the signals coming from a place that is unquestionably American. Do you agree?"

"I agree Critic," said the Nerd, who realized that the Critic wasn't interested in a potential war in Europe.

As the Critic was sending the latest information regarding the Idaho signals, the Nerd couldn't help but think about why the Critic didn't want to discuss the War of European Succession any further.

"Well what do you make of these lines of dots and dashes?" interjected the Critic.

"... - ...," read the Nerd.

The Nerd then proceeded to read another line from the signals.

"- . -. - .-. .- .-. .-. . -.. .- - -.-. .-. .- - . .-. ... - ..-. - ... . - - - -. -. .- - .. - -. .- .-.. - - -. ..- - . -. -," read the Nerd.

"What does it mean?" questioned the Critic.

"Probably where the signal is coming from within Idaho," said the Nerd. "It's going to be a bitch trying to decrypt the message."

"Better get started then," said the Critic. "I'll be here to help you."

"Thanks Critic," said the Nerd.

As the Nerd and Critic were preoccupied with interpreting the signals, HurricaneAubrey and Jennxpenn were eating at a fancy Italian restaurant situated in Boston's North End. HurricaneAubrey was consuming chicken parmesan while Jennxpenn was having the chicken alfredo, with Vivaldi's Winter being played by live violinists in the background. While HurricaneAubrey appeared to be heaven as she handled her fork and knife gracefully, Jennxpenn felt like she would rather be anywhere else. And Jennxpenn was eating her chicken alfredo in her own way: using her hands as she chugged wine down her throat.

"Really?!" whispered an outraged HurricaneAubrey. "Everyone is staring at us."

Jennxpenn paused in the middle of eating her chicken alfredo to scan the restaurant for any wandering eyes. Much to her pleasure, she saw that everyone in the restaurant was staring at her.

"Whatever," said Jennxpenn as she held a pasta string with her fingers, holding the pasta up the air as she opened her mouth to consume it.

As Jennxpenn was handling the chicken with the same method as the pasta, HurricaneAubrey tried not to feel embarrassment as she delicately used her knife and fork to tear apart the chicken on her dish. She was listening to Vivaldi's Winter, and the first thing that came to her mind was her little sister Allison practicing the piece within the greatest cities of Europe. HurricaneAubrey wished she could be with Allison in Europe, discussing the deeper meanings and interpretations behind Vivaldi's music rather than babysitting a blonde baby in a restaurant.

"What I would give to be with my little sister in Europe than here?" thought HurricaneAubrey as she sipped her glass of wine.

"More wine," asked a waiter who looked like Stephen Merchant. "My name is Leslie Higgins, and I'll be your new waiter for tonight."

"Of course," said HurricaneAubrey. "I need more to get me through this terrible evening. What do you recommend?"

"I recommend De Grave. It is a wine that is to die for. Not that you want to literally die," said Leslie awkwardly in a distinctly Bristolian accent. "How about I just give you Sangiovese wine?"

"Sure," said HurricaneAubrey as Leslie poured Sangiovese wine for both her and Jennxpenn, with the blonde woman now preoccupied with her portable device. HurricaneAubrey drank some of the Sangiovese wine before having an epiphany. "Wait. Don't I know you from somewhere?"

Occasionally, Jennxpenn looked up from her personal device to see what was going on around her. She saw that HurricaneAubrey seem to be personally invested in figuring out their waiter's personal information. Why she had no idea? She saw Leslie touching his glasses out of nervousness before he proceeded to answer HurricaneAubrey's question.

"Uhh… I'm just a waiter named Leslie Higgins, a human male who came to Boston after being a personal butler in Las Vegas. I dealt with many interesting clients during my time in Las Vegas. The most interesting were three couples that had me involved in shenanigans involving a doggy maid, Cuban cigars, romantic bubble baths, and Scottish strippers. It really happened," insisted Leslie.

HurricaneAubrey stared at Leslie with suspicion, though more the fact that she sensed there was something more to him than meets the eye than the validity of his past in Las Vegas.

"How about I get you some more breadsticks?" said Leslie.

Leslie hastily walked away to supposedly fetch some more breadsticks. In reality, he went to a table where a military soldier was sitting at. Compared with Leslie's timid and humble appearance like a meek English schoolboy, the soldier the waiter was meeting just screamed confidence and strength by his posture and how he spoke like a cocky American soldier.

"Quick! What's the situation?!" spoke the grizzled soldier without pause or hesitation.

"It's uhhh….tense and complicated," said Leslie nervously. "Rick, I think we need to take action."

"Can't you be more blunt and specific?" said Rick the American soldier.

"I just said we might have to do something to ease tensions between HurricaneAubrey and Jennxpenn," said Leslie.

"Don't say we think. Say we absolutely should do something," said Rick with confidence. "Now what do you think we should do?"

Leslie fully understood that Rick was testing him on his decision-making skills. He was sweating at the prospect.

"Well?" said Rick as he was tapping the table with his fingers. "We weren't sent by the Internet Police just to watch HurricaneAubrey and Jennxpenn tear each other apart."

Leslie closed his eyes as he was thinking heavily, and he might have found a decent enough solution if not for a loud outburst that came from the table he was supposed to be helping.

"You just so unbelievable!" screamed Jennxpenn. "How could you defend your little sister for wanting to play Vivaldi's crap music? I saw how she suffered on Utopia Island when she was forced to play classical music. Did you not see how she intentionally bruised herself when she didn't meet Georgie's unrealistic standards? Well I'm not surprised considering how you supported this monster from the start?"

Everyone in the restaurant was staring at two women. These two women were standing up from their chairs as they shouted at each other across the table.

"How dare you accuse me of abusing my little sister?!" shouted an outraged HurricaneAubrey. "I will be human enough to admit I was wrong to place my trust in George Zazz, which inadvertently led my little sister to be subjected to the cruelties of Utopia Island. But I only did so when I saw the horrors of the Second War in Colorado, leading to my personal start of darkness in joining George Zazz's organization. And still, who was one of the many participants who revealed everything wrong with George Zazz, from his history to Utopia Island itself? I was one of those rebels who actually did something. And my little sister knows it as I saved her from being lobotomized on the Island of the Misfits. So don't you dare perceive me as an unredeemable monster!"

"I started rebelling against Georgie long before it was popular to do so," said Jennxpenn. "So I have the moral high ground."

"You were in a rebellion group led by College Liberal, and we all knew how she turned out in the long run," said HurricaneAubrey. "She was no different than Oliver Costa. The enemy of my enemy is not my friend."

"I did have the decency to leave," said Jennxpenn.

"Why did you leave her Weathervanes during the Great Schism?" asked HurricaneAubrey.

"I have my reasons," said Jennxpenn uncomfortably.

HurricaneAubrey's eyes squinted as she looked at Jennxpenn's obvious appearance of hiding something. HurricaneAubrey widened her eyes as she proceeded to ask more questions about Jennxpenn's past.

"Why didn't you join another rebellion against George Zazz that was more appropriate? Or were you afraid of facing real warfare when the actual bloodshed started happening? Think about that the next time you call yourself the best agent of all time," said HurricaneAubrey.

HurricaneAubrey sat back in her chair looking as if she ran a marathon. Jennxpenn got back in her chair as well.

"Well I think the situation has calmed back down," said Leslie feeling relieved.

"Don't count on it," said Rick as he picked up a knife. "We're just in the eye of the hurricane, and I'm not sure which hurricane is more terrifying to face."

Just as Rick predicted, the ceasefire between HurricaneAubrey and Jennxpenn didn't last long before Jennxpenn asked a question that would reignite the conflict.

"Why did we start that massive argument in the first place?" questioned Jennxpenn.

"To quote your insulting words exactly, you said 'I hate this Italian restaurant for being fancy-smancy, and I wouldn't be here if Italy never existed. I hate these Italians with their mediocre food, horrible artwork, and constant complaining.' When I brought up Vivaldi's brilliant music as an example of Italian accomplishments and how I am proud of my sister Allison for playing it, you said that Vivaldi's music was crap," said HurricaneAubrey angrily. "You do realize that I'm an Italian American."

"No wonder you're such a bitch," said Jennxpenn as she placed her feet upon the table.

HurricaneAubrey got up from her table just as Jennxpenn stood up as well. Apparently, the storm returned as HurricaneAubrey began yelling at Jennxpenn for being so immature and disrespectful, and unbeknownst to her, the other occupants of the restaurant were recording this confrontation on their portable devices.

"There's only one thing to do," said Rick as he deduced that the spectators were uploading the live footage of HurricaneAubrey and Jennxpenn's fight onto the internet. "And I'm going to need your help, Leslie."

"What do you want me to….?" began Leslie as he being dragged by Rick.

Leslie saw that Rick was holding a knife in his other hand.

"I don't like where this is going," said Leslie.

"Like I said, I'm the best agent ever," said Jennxpenn.

"Oh please! You're not the best at eating properly, much less being the best agent in the…" said HurricaneAubrey before being distracted by two figures approaching them.

HurricaneAubrey saw that Leslie was being dragged by a tough-looking man to their table. HurricaneAubrey's attention was away from criticizing Jennxpenn.

"Did you get the breadsticks, Leslie?" asked HurricaneAubrey.

"Leslie did not get the breadsticks. However, we have something better," said Rick.

Everyone in the restaurant was now staring at this American as he held the hand of a British waiter.

"My name is Rick, the all-American soldier. We're going to give you the fastest version of the knife game you have ever seen," said Rick. "And I'm going to use this British waiter as my volunteer for this trick."

"Wait what?!" shouted Leslie as his hand was placed flat on the table, with his wrist being held firmly in place by Rick's hand.

"Don't be such a bitch," said Rick. He then showed the spectators an extremely sharp knife. "Let us begin."

Rick moved the knife between Leslie's fingers slowly. Leslie was smiling nervously, believing that Rick wouldn't be reckless enough to quicken the speed of the knife. Unfortunately for Leslie, Rick began accelerating the speed of the knife to the excitement of the spectators recording the incident on their portable devices. Faster and faster the knife went. Leslie had his eyes bulging out of his sockets as his mouth was wide open.

"Ahhhhhh!" screamed Leslie as Rick continued moving the knife between his fingers.

The crowd continued cheering and clapping as Rick moved the knife between Leslie's fingers to such a high speed that they could only see blurs representing the knife and Rick's hand. Luckily, Leslie's hand appeared to be intact.

"I think I have beaten the world record!" shouted Rick to a terrified Leslie. "I think our mission has been accomplished, Leslie."

There is a saying that all good things must come to an end, and unfortunately for Rick and his admirers, it came in the form of a knife being impaled right in the middle of Leslie's hand.

"Owwwwww!" cried Leslie as blood was coming out of his hand.

Rick saw that Leslie was bleeding out milky, white blood, but nobody else seemed to have notice as they only saw a version of the knife game gone horrifyingly wrong. Rick removed the knife from Leslie's hand, quickly wrapping the bloodied hand with a tablecloth.

"You two ladies! Help me escort Wheatley to our parked car," said Rick to Jennxpenn and HurricaneAubrey.

At once, the two Internet Police ladies assisted Rick in carrying the British waiter out of the restaurant, moving past the spectators who continued recording despite what had just happened. Soon, HurricaneAubrey and Jennxpenn placed Leslie into the passenger seat of a car belonging to Rick, and with the two Internet Police ladies in the passenger seats, Rick began driving the car away from the restaurant, hopefully to the nearest hospital.

"What the fuck were you thinking?!" shouted Jennxpenn. "You two men must be insane. Totally awesome, but still fucking insane."

"You do realize that I didn't want to do this crazy stunt in the first place," said Leslie recoiling in pain.

"At least we distracted the other customers from your explosive argument with HurricaneAubrey," said Rick.

"Can we at least do it without resulting in my bloody hand getting bloodied?" insisted Leslie.

Jennxpenn looked to see what HurricaneAubrey thought about this strange turn of events, but much to her amazement, HurricaneAubrey had a stoic expression on her face.

"I don't need you two mechanical spheres to babysit me. I was handling the situation well enough on my own," said HurricaneAubrey calmly.

"What?" said Jennxpenn. "Are you dumb as you are bitchy? These two men aren't circular thingys."

"I know now that Leslie is really Wheatley, the blue-eyed Bristolian mechanical sphere. It took me a while to recognize his voice, and Leslie's artificial white blood and Rick (I know it is really you from your gruff American accent) shouting out Wheatley's name out loud really gave it away," commented HurricaneAubrey.

"Having recently been given increased mobility in newly constructed human forms, the Critic and the Nerd thought it would be a good idea for us to practice infiltration skills by monitoring your dinner with Jennxpenn," said Rick. "And I can tell that you ladies caused a lot of trouble for the both of us. At least we managed to salvage your catastrophic dinner with a little knife game to entertain the masses."

HurricaneAubrey saw Jennxpenn take out her portable device to watch the latest videos trending on the internet. The most popular video tonight was a clip titled Epic Knife Game Fail. Wheatley, dropping his persona of Leslie, saw the exact moment the knife was plunged into his hand. And he saw Jennxpenn continuing to scroll down a list of videos containing variations of Epic Knife Game Fail, including music videos and parodies. With the instantaneous speed of communication over the internet, Wheatley saw that this embarrassing moment in his artificial life would be seen by millions of people by now, and that it would remain in their collective memories forever.

"At least the trending internet video isn't Two Chicks Fighting in a Restaurant," said Rick. "And not even the hot type of fighting."

"The things I do because of women," said Wheatley still moaning in pain. "Rick, can you drive faster back to the Internet Police Complex so that I can get my fluids replaced before I involuntarily shut down?"

"I'm driving over the speed limit, Englishman. I don't understand why you were compelled to add the sensation of feeling pain to your human body," said Rick.

"Because I wanted to be more human," said Wheatley. "I wanted to feel all the pleasures of eating and crying at Shakespearean tragedies like a human."

"Being human is overrated. Just ask HurricaneAubrey and Jennxpenn," said Rick as he looked through his rearview mirror at the two Internet Police ladies looking at each other with enmity.

Phil, the Oracle of Punxsutawney, had correctly predicted that there would be six more weeks of winter. In the cold days before Valentine's Day, the Critic and Nerd, in their respective Internet Police offices, had set aside the disorganized dots and dashes to investigate a recent disappearance from Yellowstone National Park.

"Apparently, eyewitnesses saw a man with braces dressed in a plaid sweater vest attempting to have a romantic date alongside Old Faithful. And as luck would have it, the geyser didn't erupt at its scheduled time. The man's girlfriend got so frustrated that she broke up with him on the spot, and just as the girlfriend was out of his sight, the geyser happened to blow up, prompting the man to curse his bad luck according to spectators," said the Nerd to the Critic via a video phone. "Do you recognize who this man is?"

The Critic took a look at the video clip of the Yellowstone incident, and he immediately recognized the unlucky man.

"That's Bad Luck Brian. The unluckiest man in the world," said the Critic. "After a voluntary stint in the Internet Police's Asylum, he decided to try to live his life without risking his safety and sanity with a lucky potion. And we haven't heard of him since….until now."

"I think he is connected to the mysterious signals coming from Idaho," said the Nerd. "And I haven't even mentioned how he was kidnapped by an insane woman."

The Critic looked at the footage of Brian Kyle, Bad Luck Brian's real name, having a romantic dinner with a woman within Yellowstone National Park.

"I got this footage from a research camera intended to capture the mating patterns of bears. I think the researchers got more than they bargained for when observing the mating ritual of a desperate human male and a loony human female," commented the Nerd.

Despite the Critic not being a love guru, he could still tell that Brian's dating skills were horrendous. From the location of the dinner table being near roaring bears to the meals consisting of microwavable Hot Pockets, the Critic found it surprising that Brian's new girlfriend didn't dump him on the spot like the girlfriend at Old Faithful. The girlfriend's face was in the shadows as Brian was retelling his time when he was a wealthy man in Las Vegas.

"I was swimming in wealth when I was in Las Vegas, and I did it because of my own hard work and determination," said Brian over the sounds of bears roaring in the background. "Do you believe me?"

The Critic and the Nerd knew full well that Bad Luck Brian only became rich in Las Vegas due to a lucky potion known as Felix Felicis. By using the liquid substance, he was able to gamble his way to wealth with an unbroken streak of good luck. Alas for Brian, the potion caused him to do reckless activities that undermined his extraordinary luck, the most damaging of which was getting involved with a mafia gang led by a literal baby godfather. After losing all of his fortune to the IRS and a brief stay in the Internet Police Asylum, Brian was trying to reinvent himself.

"Why is Brian lying to this girl about his time in Las Vegas?" asked the Nerd.

"Because he doesn't want to be seen as a pathetic loser," said the Critic. "Having seen countless movies, I know that he will eventually be exposed as a liar, and as a result, the girlfriend will dump his ass. I know that the liar reveal plot will rear its ugly head pretty soon for Bad Luck Brian."

Brian was eating his cold Hot Pocket as the girlfriend was looking down at her portable device, and started speaking in a hyper voice.

"Funny. I see right her on my device that you stated that you got your wealth from being the luckiest man in the world, and not from any form of hard work. And delving deeper into your story, it appeared that you use a lucky potion to get your vast fortune from slot machines and roulette tables," said the girlfriend. "Are you lying to me?"

"Sooner than I expected," said the Critic looking unsurprised. "Now cue Brian stammering as he tries to come up with an illogical explanation."

Brian was sweating profusely as inarticulate words were coming out of his mouth.

"I thought…. I mean…. I wanted to impress you as a hard-working man rather than a man who screams at the first sight of danger," said Brian.

In the distance, wolves were howling, prompting Brian to give out a girly scream.

"I know where this is going," said the Critic. "The girlfriend will dump him, and there will be a lot of mopping and doping between the two of them, and then Brian will have a revelation that will cause him to return back to the girlfriend. Of course, this is real life and not some clichéd romantic comedy film, and also accounting with how unlucky Brian is, the girlfriend will reject him."

The Critic then remembered that the Nerd mentioned something about Brian being kidnapped by this woman.

"How could the liar revealed plotline work if there is a kidnapping involved in the end?" thought the Critic.

The girlfriend answered the Critic's question when she spoke to Brian in an understanding manner.

"I don't care that you lied to me, I still love you," said the girlfriend as she he face came out of the shadows.

The Critic gave a gasp as the girlfriend revealed herself to be Hyper Fangirl.

"Old friend of yours, Critic?" asked the Nerd who noticed the Critic's horrified face on the video phone.

"She was an old friend of mine if you consider the definition of an old friend being someone who stalks you and forces you to go on a romantic date while having a machine gun pointed at your back," said the Critic. "What does she see in Bad Luck Brian?"

"I want you to kiss me as if you are the Nostalgia Critic," said Hyper Fangirl through her large glasses. "Come on, kiss me you hunk."

"Guess I am lucky after all," said Brian. "Should I do with tongue in or out?"

"Whatever pleases you my man?" said Hyper Fangirl with an adorable smile that the Critic knew hid her craziness.

Bad Luck Brian leaned in to kiss Hyper Fangirl. Little did he know that his kiss would be with a chloroform cloth as Hyper Fangirl forced the rag onto Brian's face.

"Got to get him back to Overly Attached Girlfriend. She will know what to do with him. She probably wouldn't want him after their shitty date with each other, but maybe he'll be fit for some other desperate teenage girl. I wouldn't want to marry this unlucky loser" said Hyper Fangirl as she stuffed the knocked out Brian into a truck. "Who knows? Maybe I'll even be rewarded for apprehending Bad Luck Brian by Overly Attached Girlfriend. She'll be able to grant my wish of getting the man of my dreams: The Nostalgia Critic."

As Hyper Fangirl gave a passionate sigh at mentioning the Critic's name, the Critic stopped the Yellowstone footage at once, with the Critic trying his best not to vomit.

"So what does any of this have to do with the mysterious signals from Idaho?" said the Critic.

"I recently found out that signals are coming from an area close to where Bad Luck Brian was kidnapped. He must have typed those dots and dashes," said the Nerd.

"Why wouldn't he have written in plain English where he was located and who kidnapped him?" questioned the Critic.

"Because he didn't want to risk exposing his true intentions to his kidnappers. If I were to hazard a guess, Overly Attached Girlfriend and her teenage accomplices would only see these dots and dashes as mad ravings of a man whose unluckiness has sapped him of his sanity," said the Nerd.

"Then we better find out where he and any other victims of Overly Attached Girlfriend are being held before they find out his plot to escape," said the Critic.

"Agreed," said the Nerd. "And I have two more individuals who can help us."

"Who?" asked the Critic.

The Nerd simply looked past the Critic towards two figures standing behind the man in a black cap, a red tie, a white shirt underneath a black jacket, and blue jeans. One of the figures was a man dressed in American military fatigues. The other figure was a bespectacled man wearing a blue tie, white dress shirt, and black dress pants, and one of his hands was covered by several bandages as a result of a recent knife injury.

"Are you really prepared to help us in interpreting these dots and dashes Rick and Wheatley?" questioned the Critic.

"Yes Sir!" shouted Rick as he gave a military salute.

"Hopefully this will be less painful than the Knife Game," said Wheatley as he was rubbing his bandaged hand.

At the same time that Wheatley and Rick were squinting at the dots and dashes sent by Bad Luck Brian, HurricaneAubrey and Jennxpenn were sitting on a couch in front of a television. HurricaneAubrey was eating her bowl of popcorn as she was heavily engaged to the movie playing on screen. The film was called RACHEL directed by Abed Nadir and produced by the Public Broadcasting Service. Shown at several renowned film festivals including Sundance and South by Southwest, RACHEL is about a filmmaker named Rachel who is making a movie about Joan of Arc. Rachel's planned movie is about the filmmaker Joan of Arc trying to find God through her medieval camera. But then Rachel the filmmaker finds out that she is actually Joan of Arc, and that she is being filmed by God's camera. Thus, all the filmmakers are Joan of Arc and all the cameras are God, creating a meta-film for the post-postmodern world.

"And Rachel the filmmaker a.k.a. Joan of Arc is played by Rachel from the Band of Siblings, who I fought alongside during the Second War and during the Great Schism of America," thought HurricaneAubrey as she smiled during a scene when modern-day Rachel kneeling before a film camera as sunlight was shining through the windows of her small film studio.

Intercut between modern Rachel was medieval Rachel (dressed up like Joan of Arc) praying before a crucifix atop an altar, with sunlight piercing through a cathedral's stain-glass windows. And the film was switching back and forth between the medieval period and the modern world, with only Rachel and light remaining constant.

"Do you see the brilliance of this film, Jennxpenn?" spoke HurricaneAubrey as she was weeping at the scene. "Right now, modern Rachel is lamenting having her film being shut down by rival English filmmakers. Juxtaposed with modern Rachel's filmmaking problems are medieval Rachel's troubles of beating back the English armies ravaging the French countryside. And they are both praying for a resolution to their problems. Based on this scene, I can interpret that RACHEL is about how humans share the same hopes, dreams, and fears throughout history, and that a change in clothing and technology hasn't altered our humanity. Isn't that such a profound revelation?!"

"I'm sorry what?" said Jennxpenn as she was busy smirking at her portable device.

HurricaneAubrey tried to hide her disappointment at Jennxpenn by stuffing her face with more popcorn. The scene changed to modern Rachel leading a charge of her French production crew against the English filmmakers, with the footage switching back and forth between a similar battle taking place with medieval Rachel commanding armies of French crossbowmen and cavalry against English soldiers armed with longbows. Even with an epic battle occurring onscreen, Jennxpenn was still glued to her portable device.

"I heard that RACHEL's deleted scenes are the real movie scenes and the movie we're currently watching are the actual deleted scenes," said HurricaneAubrey in an attempt to get Jennxpenn interested in the movie. "The deleted scenes have Rachel both as a 19th century French photographer rallying her countrymen against the Germans during the Franco-Prussian War and as a 20th century French filmmaker combating Nazis during the Second World War. This changes everything about the movie RACHEL. The message is that life isn't so black and white. This is clearly shown by how 19th century Rachel is channeling Joan of Arc to maintain French dominance over the fragmented German states. In stark contrast, 20th century Rachel takes inspiration from Joan of Arc by leading resistance movements against the Nazis occupying France, getting assistance from ironically the British. This version of RACHEL challenges our notion of morality. Isn't that amazing Jennxpenn?"

Jennxpenn wasn't paying attention to a word HurricaneAubrey was saying. Out of curiosity, HurricaneAubrey glanced over to the portable device Jennxpenn was showing such interest in. She saw that Jennxpenn was watching videos of herself performing prank phone calls to several people, ranging from telling people that she was pregnant to calling in sick to workplaces she didn't actually worked at. HurricaneAubrey was flabbergasted by Jennxpenn's idea of entertainment.

"I hate pranks," said HurricaneAubrey simply as she angrily got up from the couch.

Jennxpenn looked at how upset HurricaneAubrey was as she retreated to the kitchen.

"Why is she always so angry?" whispered Jennxpenn as she continued watching her prank videos.

As HurricaneAubrey started microwaving another bag of popcorn, she thought about how much she despised pranks. She remembered all too well how Rémi Gaillard, the famous French prankster, vandalized the Louvre's artwork and covered the Palace of Versailles with toilet paper. Against her protests, the Internet Police pardoned Rémi Gaillard of his wrongdoings for his contribution in bringing down George Zazz's regime. HurricaneAubrey thought that he should at least be held accountable for his obvious criminal acts of desecrating historical and artistic works. And it wasn't just Rémi Gaillard she hated. She hated online pranksters she perceived would commit despicable acts just for views and a morbid sense of entertainment.

"And they have the gall to claim that many of their pranks provide meaningful commentary on societal trends," said HurricaneAubrey as she thought about Jennxpenn's pranks. "What does claiming you're pregnant contribute to improving society?"

A video phone was ringing in the kitchen, playing Vivaldi's Spring.

"I hate that damn ringtone," said Jennxpenn, which was heard by HurricaneAubrey.

HurricaneAubrey programmed the video phone to replace Vivaldi's Winter with Vivaldi's Spring as its new ringtone even though it was still February, a winter month. She hoped that an early spring would arrive to herald the end of a gloomy winter, using Vivaldi's Spring as a plea to the universe for an end to the winds of winter. Unfortunately, it would be a long winter that would extend beyond February and into March, and her deteriorating relationship between her and Jennxpenn would be another symptom of the unforgiving winds of winter. In desperate need to shelter herself from the hostile environment both outside and inside, she was relieved when she saw the Critic speaking to her through the video phone.

"Hello HurricaneAubrey," said the Critic. "I need your help decrypting these two enigmatic messages regarding the Idaho case. I already have Rick and Wheatley working on it, but so far, they have been getting nowhere."

"You would think two A.I. robots would be able to find the hidden meaning quickly," said HurricaneAubrey.

"I think they would solve it faster if they weren't arguing all the time," said the Critic.

"I AM NOT A MORON!" shouted Wheatley.

"You are a moron. Only morons would think that a chicken would be used to communicate via dots and dashes," said Rick. "To quote you, 'Brian Kyle used a chicken to avoid detection by Overly Attached Girlfriend and her crew of bitches.'"

HurricaneAubrey was informed of the latest developments in the Idaho case for the past few days, so she knew what the Critic and his robot assistants were talking about.

"How about I show you the two lines of dots and dashes sent by Brian Kyle?" said the Critic.

"Okay," said HurricaneAubrey.

HurricaneAubrey saw the first line of dots and dashes as "... - ...", and she saw the second line as "- . -. - .-. .- .-. .-. . -.. .- - -.-. .-. .- - . .-. ... - ..-. - ... . - - - -. -. .- - .. - -. .- .-.. - - -. ..- - . -. –". She immediately knew the true meaning of the first line.

"The three dots, the three dashes, and the three dots once more are obviously a distress call known as SOS," said HurricaneAubrey.

"SOS?" asked Wheatley. "Doesn't that mean save our souls?"

"Not exactly," said HurricaneAubrey. "It is just the simplest way of communicating while using Morse code. Understandably, an emergency requires a quick response. We have 911 for emergency contacts by American phones. For Morse code, it is three dots, three dashes, and three dots again for a request for immediate assistance. Simple, but effective."

"We know that Brian needed help," said the Critic. "But what about the second line of dots and dashes?"

"I'm sure that we have a ubiquitous source of information that will help us unscramble the second line in no time," said HurricaneAubrey with a joking smile.

"Of course," said the Critic smiling back as he turned towards Wheatley and Rick. "Are you able to quickly find the meaning of the second line of Morse code using the information superhighway?

"With pleasure," said Wheatley.

"Yes Sir," said Rick.

The two robots departed to use the internet to find out the second line of Morse code. This gave the Critic some free time with HurricaneAubrey.

"So how's your movie night with Jennxpenn?" asked the Critic.

"If dinner was a total disaster, then movie night is a slow burn destroying what little connection we had with each other. I'm just not compatible with Jennxpenn. Basically, the only things we share in common are generic labels of being American, female, and coming from Mid-Atlantic states," said HurricaneAubrey as she was brushing her long, brunette hair with her hand.

"We seem to have a closer relationship with each us despite me being an Illinois man," said the Critic. "Though we may be American, I am a German American while you are an Italian American."

"But we have much more in common with each other than with my apprentice," said HurricaneAubrey. "For example, we both are movie buffs and love interpreting films to find a deeper meaning. Have you seen RACHEL, Critic?"

"It is only one of the most captivating and monumental movies of the year," said the Critic with a smile. "It is full of political and cultural subtext that could take one several years to comprehend."

"Well let's get started then," said HurricaneAubrey with pleasure. "What do you think of how symbolic light is throughout the film?"

"It is a source of inspiration for our main character in the film," said the Critic. "Obviously, the medieval scenes used light as symbolizing divine revelation. But for the modern setting, Rachel uses light to film properly on the set of her planned movie, with the light guiding her just like Joan of Arc."

"Well phrased," said HurricaneAubrey as she climbed onto the kitchen counter with the phone in her hand. "But you are forgetting the malevolent role light plays in RACHEL. Fire, one of humanity's chief providers of light, led to the downfall of our main character in medieval times, and it was exposure to sunlight that ruined Rachel's fragile film prints near the end of RACHEL."

"I didn't know about the negative impact light played in RACHEL," commented the Critic. "You really know how to critique cinema properly like a true critic."

"Movies are paintings with sound and movement, and as an artist, it is natural for me to approach film the same way as any other works of art," said HurricaneAubrey. "So what else can we take away from RACHEL? Oh I know! How about the music used in the movie?"

"Sure," said the Critic with enthusiasm.

Lying down on the couch, Jennxpenn heard HurricaneAubrey talking passionately on the phone with the Critic. She listened to HurricaneAubrey and the Critic thoroughly dissecting the film that was ignored by Jennxpenn.

"Who cares about the symbols and deeper meanings that smarty pants pull out of their own asses to look and sound more intelligent than they really are?" thought Jennxpenn as she released whipped cream into her mouth with a spray can.

Jennxpenn knew how close the Critic and HurricaneAubrey, with the latter giggling loudly from the kitchen. Jennxpenn continued consuming whipped cream as she disregarded the mess she was making.

"Though to be fair to HurricaneAubrey, at least she doesn't murder people for not understanding pretentious works of crap or not acting like a proper woman. She might nag at me constantly, but she isn't like Roxy Harmon," said Jennxpenn as she flashed back to a traumatic memory.

In the latter stages of the Great Schism of America, Emperor George commenced with actual killings instead of relying primarily on tranquilizer darts due to the emergence of the ex-Patricians. The ex-Patricians were initial followers of Emperor George's traditionalist doctrine before they were excommunicated by the Emperor himself for diverging from his strict beliefs. This period of the Great Schism of America saw the majority of the bloodshed as Emperor George's Patricians fought ex-Patricians and Plebeians. The ex-Patricians fighting against Patricians and Plebeians. And Plebeians combating Patricians and ex-Patricians. As they were scouting the foothills of Griffith Park, Jennxpenn and College Liberal considered themselves to be proud Plebeians rebelling against both the Patricians and ex-Patricians. Through binoculars, they saw two Victorians enjoying a hunt through the woods. These well-dressed hunters were a middle-aged man and a teenage girl most responsible for the recently high mortality rates of the Great Schism: Frank Murdoch and Roxy Harmon. Jennxpenn cringed as Frank and Roxy were hunting their favorite type of prey: Plebeian humans.

"Oh how I enjoy a good hunt," proclaimed Frank as he aimed his elephant gun through the seemingly tranquil forest. "Wait till Emperor George hears of our slaughter of the Plebeian prey."

"I especially love how the Plebeians' blood flows out of their bodies," said Roxy as she marched with her elephant gun. "I'm glad Emperor George gave his approval of using live Plebeians as target practice."

From what she could tell from afar, Jennxpenn observed Frank and Roxy walking calmly as she saw the Plebeian prey desperate hiding of them in the foliage. They were teenage boys who were unarmed and dressed in modern clothing.

"Can you believe them?" said Jennxpenn with disgust. "College Liberal. Are you recording this to show the world how evil Emperor George is? Just look at how terrified the teenage boys are in the presence of Frank and Roxy."

Jennxpenn stared at College Liberal to get some approval of her opposition towards Frank and Roxy. Much to her surprise, she saw College Liberal with a vindictive smile on her face.

"Look at those teenage boys getting the justice they deserve. I see one boy manspreading on the forest floor, and another boy attempting to chisel a stone arrow from a rock. Men can be so oppressive and cruel," commented College Liberal.

Jennxpenn was aghast at what College Liberal had to say. She wanted to yell at College Liberal that the boy was scared shitless of Frank and Roxy to care about his sitting posture, and that the boy was obviously defending himself from two maniacs, not worrying about the issue of masculinity vs. femininity with regards to violence. But when she saw Frank and Roxy firing their elephant guns at the boys, she knew better than alert them of her presence. Jennxpenn saw each boy being killed by Frank and Roxy's bullets. Of course some of them tried to fight back, but armed with only sticks and stones, they were unable to break Frank and Roxy's bones. It was the boys' bones that were broken instead. Jennxpenn watched as the boy with the stone arrow charge at Frank, intending to thrust the arrow into the man's heart. Lacking in common sense, the boy ended up being riddled with bullets from Frank's elephant gun.

"Boys will be boys," said College Liberal casually. "Stupid and prone to violence."

Jennxpenn saw that College Liberal showed no concern for the fear on the boys' faces as Frank and Roxy fertilized the greenery with their red blood. As the screams of the boys echoed into her ears, Jennxpenn was compelled to jump in and interfere regardless of her doubts earlier. She was contemplating such an act when Frank and Roxy reached the last boy, the one who had been committing the so-called heinous crime of manspreading.

"Do you know why we brought you here?" asked Frank as he pointed his elephant gun at the boy's face.

"I…I…I.. don't know," said the teenage boy as he was crying.

"Shame that this pathetic excuse of a man can't even fight properly," said Roxy as she pointed the elephant gun between the teenage boy's legs. "I'm almost compelled to just let him go so that he will feel shame for the rest of his life. Killing him is too merciful for him. But I can't let a good target go to waste. Imagine how Emperor George would react if he finds out that my shooting accuracy was 90% instead of 100% if I let you go."

Frank and Roxy were about to conclude their hunt when the boy cried out in despair.

"I'm sorry that I was unable to recite Lincoln's Gettysburg Address," said the boy. "I should be ashamed of myself."

"You should be. You shouldn't call yourself an American. Do you have no respect for the soldiers who died on the battlefield?" said Frank. "What do you do in your spare time? Perform dumb and dangerous stunts for internet views or being rude in movie theaters?"

"I'll recite the Gettysburg Address to show my appreciation for the generation who sacrificed their lives for this nation," said the boy sobbing. "You'll let me go if I say each and every word correctly."

"If you think you're in for a happy ending, you haven't been paying attention," said Roxy in a frank manner. "But I'll give you a chance to redeem yourself. Of course, I doubt you'll be able to save yourself."

"Let's see if he's up to the standards of the previous generations of Americans who made this country great," said Frank.

With the boy seeing the two elephant guns now pointing to the ground, he began reciting President Abraham Lincoln's iconic Gettysburg Address.

"Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal," said the boy with fear in his eyes.

Jennxpenn remembered a traumatic memory that involved the Gettysburg Address. She conjured up images of a middle school field trip to Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, where she was the center of attention in the worst way possible.

"Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this," said the boy as Frank and Roxy raised their eyebrows in awe.

Jennxpenn was genuinely impressed with how much of Lincoln's Gettysburg Address the boy could recall. It was her inability of recalling even the Four score part of the address that caused her embarrassment during her field trip. When she was called forth by her teacher to recite Lincoln's speech in front of the whole class at Gettysburg, she misspoke the first line as "Four scones and seven years ago our founding dads made the United States of America a new nation, where all men and women are created equal." She could still see and hear the other students laughing hysterically at her, some even mimicking a gun being shot into their heads with their fingers. She still could sense the disappointment the teacher had in her to this very day.

"But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate - we cannot consecrate - we cannot hallow - this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract," said the teenage boy with a smile, perhaps sensing that not all hope was lost.

Dealing with anxieties in middle school, Jennxpenn sympathized with what the teenage boy was going through. The boy was dealing with the same dilemma she had at Gettysburg, only it was a pair of murderous thugs who were judging him. She badly wanted him to succeed.

"The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us - that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion - that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain - that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom - and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the world," said the teenage boy.

The teenage boy collapsed completely on the forest floor, believing he had earned his right to live. Jennxpenn sighed with relief as Frank and Roxy stared at each other before walking away from the boy.

"I'm glad there was a happy ending after all," commented Jennxpenn looking through her binoculars at the joyous boy.

Suddenly, Frank and Roxy immediately marched towards the boy as they aimed their elephant guns directly at him.

"You had the entire speech performed correctly… except when you said world instead of earth," said Frank.

"What?!" shouted the panicking boy.

"I'm afraid that you are about to meet your intended fate after all," said Roxy as she had her finger on the trigger. "Any last words, Plebeian boy?"

The teenage boy was thinking of what vocabulary words in the English language would sum up his life. He never got that chance.

"Took too long," said Roxy as she fired several rounds into the boy, killing him instantly.

Roxy was looking triumphant as Frank looked somewhat dissatisfied.

"You could have at least given him the chance to say some parting words before leaving this world," said Frank.

"What could he have possibly say? I like the big titties and pussies on the girls I like to fuck," said Roxy crudely. "I like to show my big cock that I use to impress the chicks to compensate for watching shitty reality television shows and movies full of boobies and explosions."

"Good point," said Frank as he fired a bullet into the boy's head.

"We do make a good hunting team," said Roxy as she gave an adorable smile to Frank.

"Indeed. We should do this more often," said Frank as he offered Roxy his hand.

Jennxpenn saw Frank and Roxy frolicking through a forest filled with the corpses of teenage boys. Jennxpenn turned to College Liberal, who was muttering enthusiastically.

"Such a strong woman showing men in their proper place. I think I'm in love," said College Liberal.

Grabbing a nearby rock, College Liberal smashed the video camera that had been documenting Frank and Roxy's wrongdoings. College Liberal gave a gesture of her index finger being placed over her lips to a wide-mouthed Jennxpenn.

"I just want to strangle her," thought Jennxpenn. "But seeing as Frank and Roxy are nearby, I just have to settle with giving the Weathervanes the cold shoulder."

Back in the present, Jennxpenn was breathing heavily as she remembered two calamitous events revolving around the Gettysburg Address: her embarrassing middle school field trip to Gettysburg and the senseless murder of a teenage boy when he couldn't recite it properly.

"Aren't you forgetting the actual fucking battle that took place at Gettysburg that prompted President Lincoln to draft the Gettysburg Address?! That was the real calamitous event!" shouted a voice that sounded nothing like HurricaneAubrey's.

Jennxpenn got out of her stupor to search the room for the location of the shrill voice. She saw that it was Roxy Harmon sitting on the couch, with Frank standing behind the couch with a machine gun.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" said Roxy.

Initially looking fearful, Jennxpenn shrugged her shoulder as she delivered her own counterargument against Roxy and Frank.

"You two are dead. So your argument is invalid," said Jennxpenn. "I'm just imagining you two here."

Jennxpenn saw an empty room once more. She leaned back on her couch satisfied with herself.

"What is dead is dead," said Jennxpenn. "Those two can't hurt me or anyone else."

HurricaneAubrey came out of the kitchen looking happy after her long and productive conversation with the Critic. She took one look at Jennxpenn. Her face became stern and professional.

"Pack your bags. We're going to Craters of the Moon National Monument in Idaho," said HurricaneAubrey to Jennxpenn.

Jennxpenn gave HurricaneAubrey a look of boredom.

"Why can't we have missions in exotic locations like Hawaii?" lamented Jennxpenn.

"Because the Morse code sent out to us read Men trapped at Craters of the Moon National Monument," said HurricaneAubrey with an air of authority. "Not little girl who wants to complain about everything."

The name Idaho originated from a mining lobbyist who believed that more settlers would come to the state if it had an exotic sounding name. Claiming that Idaho derived from a Shoshone term Gem of the Mountains, the lobbyist hoped that more people would come and develop the state from its vast wilderness. In the eyes of Jennxpenn, the lobbyist had clearly failed as she was flying in a military transport helicopter flown by the Nerd over the barren wasteland of the Craters of the Moon National Monument, wishing to herself to be anywhere else. As for the Critic, the Nerd, HurricaneAubrey, and Rick, they gazed in awe over the desolate landscape, either for its natural beauty or for how this was the site where NASA astronauts practiced going to the exotic location of Earth's moon. For Wheatley, he was shaking uncontrollably as if the national monument had reminded him of a traumatic memory concerning lunar surfaces. No matter their opinion of Idaho's environment, these six Internet Police agents, dressed in typical American military fatigues, had one mission: rescue the men trapped by a nest of love-struck women, most of whom were teenage girls.

"I think we aren't prepared for taking on the teenage girls," said Jennxpenn.

"You aren't prepared, Jennxpenn. Just follow the professionals, and you'll be fine," said HurricaneAubrey with confidence.

"What makes you think you can handle teenage girls?" said Jennxpenn. "They're so unstable and prone to emotional turmoil. I know because I was once one and was surrounded by them growing up."

HurricaneAubrey glanced at the Critic. Thankfully, the Critic sided with her.

"Jennxpenn. We have dealt with much worse than run of the mill teenage girls. Before HurricaneAubrey even became an Internet Police agent, we faced Fred Figglehorn and his bloodthirsty soldiers in the First War, confronted the kleptomaniac Carmen Sandiego, and arrested the notorious serial killer Harry S. Plinkett," said the Critic with swagger.

"And after I became an Internet Police agent, I was with the Critic and Nerd when they faced Fred Figglehorn in the Second War, defeating him once and for all. And I was instrumental in bringing about the downfall of Emperor George's Empire," said HurricaneAubrey in a boastful tone.

"But…but…" stammered Jennxpenn. "But these teenage girls are so unpredictable. And we aren't prepared for their level of unpredictability. Just look at what happened when they took out our useless robots when they were sent in a first wave to root out these teenage girls."

Jennxpenn saw that Wheatley and Rick looked offended by her statement.

"Listen Blondie. Our R.O.B. (Robotic Operating Buddy) units are state of the art beauties that can fire rounds of ammunition (tranquilizer darts because our targets are underage bitches) with pinpoint accuracy through their binocular eyes, knock out targets with their arms spinning rapidly around their cylindrical middle bodies, and cover all sorts of terrain with their lower bases containing American-made military-grade wheels and rocket boosters," said Rick in a gruff voice.

"Then why are we here if the R.O.B.s supposedly succeeded in their mission. From what I gathered, we lost reception with the units after just a few minutes in the field," commented Jennxpenn.

"I'm sure it is nothing," said Rick. "And even if that was the case, then we can just take on these sluts with just our superior firepower alone." Rick flexed his robotic arm that was covered by artificial skin as he shouted towards the Nerd in the cockpit. "Go on Nerd. Tell her of our technological superiority."

"Gladly," said the Nerd with enthusiasm over the intercom. "These girls are probably armed with only mobile devices to take pictures of themselves and their kidnapped dates. Nothing to worry about. Unless you count their deadly arsenal of high heel shoes and makeup kits." The Nerd gave a chuckle as he began describing the weapons the Internet Police agents had their disposal. "As you are already aware of, we are all armed with Konami LaserScopes attached to our American military helmets. These headgears of my own creation will allow us to fire a sonic pulse from our Super Scope guns with unbelievable accuracy. After several trials of inspiration, perspiration, and temper-tantrums, I finally perfected these two weapons to be the next generation of Internet Police standard-issue gear. Do you really think teenage girls armed with lipstick can stand up to these futuristic technologies?"

Jennxpenn said nothing as the helicopter landed on the foggy grounds of the Craters of the Moon National Monument. With fog engulfing the agents, the Critic motioned to his fellow soldiers to turn on their shoulder-mounted flashlights.

"Let there be light," said Wheatley in a futile attempt to reassure himself.

The six agents marched across the emptiness of Idaho's moonscape. With their own eyes and the assistance of motion trackers, the agents were looking for any signs of the kidnapped men or their female captors. Wheatley was traversing with Jennxpenn as they were falling behind the Critic, the Nerd, HurricaneAubrey, and Rick. As he lost sight of the four agents in front of him, Wheatley tried to relieve himself of stress by having a light conversation with Jennxpenn.

"So today is Valentine's Day," said Wheatley with a smile. "A holiday celebrating love between two humans with chocolate and flowers. Isn't that lovely?"

Jennxpenn gave Wheatley a stern look as she spoke.

"They mostly come out at Valentine's Day. Mostly," said Jennxpenn ominously. "These teenage girls, desperate for love, force helpless boys to join them in premature matrimony. The girls just grabbed these boys, and before they knew it, these boys are standing in front of an altar with a shotgun behind their heads."

Wheatley gulped as he trekked on, eventually catching up to the four other agents. He laughed nervously as he thought about the advantages he had compared to these girls.

"Everything is under control," said Wheatley as he clutched his Super Scope and readjusted his Konami LaserScope.

"What the hell happened here?!" shouted the Nerd as the fog began to dissipate.

Wheatley and Jennxpenn saw that they were now standing in a graveyard of R.O.B. units. Their arms and binocular eyes were pulled out of their sockets, their rocket boosters were busted, and their microchips and wires were scattered across the ground like organs. The Critic gave out an immediate command.

"Let get the fuck out of here," said the Critic.

Jennxpenn felt some satisfaction that she was proven right about how dangerous lovesick teenage girls were.

"Not feeling so high and mighty after all," said Jennxpenn with a smug expression.

Jennxpenn saw none of the other four agents were staring at her, which annoyed her greatly. She wanted to be recognized for being right all along.

"Why are these four not appreciating me for being the best agent of all…. wait four?" said Jennxpenn as she counted who was here. There was the Critic, the Nerd, HurricaneAubrey, Rick and….

"What on earth are you doing?!" screamed HurricaneAubrey across the lunar-like surface.

Jennxpenn saw Wheatley running away in terror, and unluckily for him, he didn't get far before a crater opened up below his feet.

"Grab me! Grab me! Grab me!" cried Wheatley as he tried to climb out of the hole.

The five agents rushed to grab Wheatley, but then a figure emerged to pull Wheatley into the hole like a trapdoor spider catching her prey. Upon closer inspection, the Critic saw that this was something even worse and uglier than a trapdoor spider: Hyper Fangirl.

"Follow me down the rabbit hole, and you'll be in wonderland," said Hyper Fangirl with a suggestive wink to the Critic as she tugged Wheatley into the hole.

All was silent as the five remaining agents rushed towards the hole. It appeared to be bottomless from their perspective as the agents looked down upon it.

"Should have been more prepared for the unpredictable," commented Jennxpenn as the four other agents were at a loss for words.

Please review this story to provide me some advice on improving it. What other internet personalities or memes should the Internet Police encounter?