I do not own any of the internet personalities or memes presented in this story.
The Internet Police: Year in Review
The Ides of March, Part 1
Laissez les bon temps rouler. Let the good times roll. And the good times were indeed rolling in New Orleans, Louisiana. Known as the Big Easy for its reputation of constant partying, New Orleans was in the middle of celebrating Mardi Gras, a period of revelry before the austerity of the Christian Lenten season. And in no other place in the world was Mardi Gras celebrated with such unbridled energy and debauchery than Bourbon Street. This year's Mardi Gras theme was the colorful history of New Orleans, with each elaborate float depicting New Orleans through the ages. One float depicted Andrew Jackson's victory over the British in the War of 1812. Another showcased the city's key role in World War II by the creator of the allied Higgins boats used in amphibious landings in the European and Pacific theaters. And the other floats covered other notable events in New Orleans' history such as the rise of Jazz music. And everyone, from the krewe members throwing beads from their floats to the spectators catching said trinkets, were dressed in retro attire. Amidst the congregations were HurricaneAubrey and Jennxpenn. Dressed up as 1920s mobsters, the two Internet Police agents prowled through Bourbon Street as purple, green, and gold confetti were raining down on them.
"Why couldn't we get more interesting costumes?" asked Jennxpenn as she went past partygoers wearing modern clothes in rebelling against the historical theming.
"Because then we won't be able to rendezvous with the Irish mobsters without attracting suspicion for not adopting their dress code," answered HurricaneAubrey in an annoyed tone. "I guess you haven't been paying attention again."
"I know everything there is to know about this mission," retorted Jennxpenn.
"Tell me then," said HurricaneAubrey expressing doubt.
"Very well," said Jennxpenn. "We intercepted a message about Irish mobsters planning something big in a large American city. The funny thing is that we discovered this scheme through snail mail rather than email. I wonder why these mobsters are so backwards that they needed to resort to snail mail to communicate their nefarious plans."
HurricaneAubrey wanted to complain to Jennxpenn about not fitting in to this year's Mardi Gras theme of nostalgia, but wanting not to cause antagonism while in the middle of a mission, she maintained silence as Jennxpenn continued explaining the purpose of being in New Orleans.
"The snail mail message said to meet this mobster in the French Quarter during Mardi Gras. He would be playing a traditional Irish song on a trumpet," said Jennxpenn. "And dressed as a 1920s gangster. Is that enough for you HurricaneAubrey?"
"Yes," said HurricaneAubrey in a non-sarcastic voice. "Now let's listen for the Irish music."
HurricaneAubrey and Jennxpenn tried to listen for a distinctive Irish melody in the middle of the raucous partygoers. They were moving past tourists who were drinking shots of alcohol.
"Hear anything?" asked Jennxpenn to HurricaneAubrey.
HurricaneAubrey listened for any signs of Irish music. She could only hear the following songs being played by float singers and Jazz musicians. They only heard songs like Second Line march and Feet Don't Fail Me Now as they squeezed their way through the crowds.
"Maybe we'll see a trumpet being played by the Irish gangster," thought Jennxpenn.
Jennxpenn then saw a trumpet being played by a musician on a 1920s float. She started rushing towards it, but then she paused in the middle of the street.
"Don't rush into it. I don't want to mess things up," thought Jennxpenn who knew HurricaneAubrey was probably predicting she would screw up.
Jennxpenn saw the musician was an African American man with likely no Irish blood. More importantly, she saw that he was playing the Second Line march. Jennxpenn was glad that she didn't get onto the float and tackled the innocent man onto the street. Imagine how much of a ruckus she would cause for subduing an unarmed man in the middle of Mardi Gras. She was thankful that she wouldn't have to see the look of disappointment and anger HurricaneAubrey would show considering this horrible mistake. Jennxpenn went back to accompanying HurricaneAubrey as they were strolling along the historic architecture of the French Quarter.
"I don't think our mobster is here today," said HurricaneAubrey. "What's going on?"
"Beats me," said Jennxpenn. "How about we get onto the roof of these buildings? Maybe we'll see the Irish mobster from there."
"Good thinking," said HurricaneAubrey.
Jennxpenn smiled as the two agents went into a historical French Quarter hotel. They walked past guests that were formal compared to the partying crowds on the street. The guests were dressed in elegant ballgowns and masquerade masks. Perhaps they were practicing going to a masquerade ball later in the evening. Of course, the two agents had no time for dancing as they reached the roof of the building. The two agents reached the edge of the roof and took out their binoculars. They looked high and low, but they saw nothing.
"Maybe he decided not to show up after all," suggested Jennxpenn.
"Maybe," said HurricaneAubrey as she looked through her binocular over Canal Street. "I think we'll call the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd to let them know."
HurricaneAubrey and Jennxpenn got up to contact the Nerd and the Critic using their portable devices when they heard crashes. They turned around, and looking through their binoculars, they saw men jumping across rooftops in the French Quarter.
"Looks like the Critic and the Nerd found something," said HurricaneAubrey. "And they need our help."
The oldest part of New Orleans was now the battleground between the Irish mobster and the two male Internet Police agents. The crowds of partygoers were mostly oblivious to the chase above them, believing the gunfire to be a part of the Mardi Gras celebration.
"You haven't heard everything from me," said the brown-haired Irish mobster as he took out a pistol to fire upon the Critic and Nerd.
"We got everything we needed to know Lucky Charms," said the Nerd armed with a pistol.
"Hey that's racist!" shouted Jennxpenn as she tackled the Nerd. "I'm an Irish American, and I'm offended that you decided to name him after a cereal brand."
"That's his actual gangster name!" shouted the Nerd as he was being pinned down by Jennxpenn. "And now Lucky Charms is getting away."
Jennxpenn expected HurricaneAubrey to express disappointment in her. But she saw that HurricaneAubrey was already pursuing Lucky Charms across the rooftops.
"Looks like there will be blood at the end of this rainbow," said Lucky Charms as he fired his pistol at HurricaneAubrey.
"Looks like you'll need more than the luck of the Irish to get past us," said HurricaneAubrey as she fired her pistol at Lucky Charms.
Lucky Charm continued dodging the bullets shot by HurricaneAubrey as he ran faster and faster across the roof. HurricaneAubrey jumped after him. Unfortunately for her, the roofs of the French Quarter weren't exactly designed for rooftop jumping, and unsurprising, she fell through a rooftop and into a room full of drunken tourists.
"I think we had enough for today," said a drunken woman catching sight of HurricaneAubrey falling through the ceiling.
Lucky Charms smiled as he headed towards Canal Street.
"It's up to me now!" shouted the Critic as he jumped after Lucky Charms.
Not wanting to take his chances with the Critic, Lucky Charms leaped right off the roof and through an upper story window. He found himself in a cooking school full of amateur chefs. Seeing a man with a pistol in his hand, the chefs screamed as they scurried out of the room just as the Critic went through the same broken window. Lucky Charms ran between the stoves and ovens cooking up New Orleans' iconic dishes. Lucky Charms tried firing his pistol, but it was empty. Looking around him, he found other weapons to use against the Critic.
"Have some gumbo!" shouted Lucky Charms as threw the simmering gumbo from a pot to the Critic.
The Critic dodged the gumbo projectile as he grabbed a pan containing jambalaya.
"Serving jambalaya for one angry Irishman!" yelled the Critic as he threw jambalaya at Lucky Charms.
The jambalaya missed Lucky Charms. The Critic and Lucky Charms were now armed with a pan and pot respectively.
"En garde," said the Critic as he swung his pan at Lucky Charms.
The pan clanged with the pot as the Critic and Lucky Charms battled each other with these kitchen items. Each time the pot and pan were in contact, the Critic and Lucky Charms were sweating. Perhaps it was the tense situation between them. Maybe it was because of the heat coming from the still running stoves and ovens. This gave Lucky Charms an idea.
"It's been a while since New Orleans had a real fire. Today is that lucky day unless you have other ideas," said Lucky Charms as he turned up the heat of the various stoves and ovens around him.
The flames coming from the stoves and ovens started spreading all over the kitchen. Feeling confident that the Critic would be distracted in trying to stop the fire from engulfing the entire city, Lucky Charms broke through the window and climbed up onto the roof. Once again, he was making his way across rooftops. He smiled as he reached the edge of Canal Street.
"Fuck you, Lucky Charms," said a voice behind him.
Lucky Charms looked behind him. He saw the Critic pointing a pistol at him. Evidently, he had successfully stopped the kitchen fire from devouring New Orleans.
"Hands up and freeze," said the Critic.
Lucky Charms placed his hands up in the air.
"Why do you keep chasing me? What else is there to know? I told you everything. I told you about a mob meeting in Milwaukee, Wisconsin at an abandoned beer factory. And before I knew you were imposters, I did tell you about our little scheme to destroy the Internet Police from the inside. Did I explain everything to you?" said Lucky Charms.
"You didn't explain everything to me," said the Critic. "Tell me who exactly are you working for and what is their master plan."
"There is a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow," said Lucky Charms.
"What?!" shouted the Critic. "Tell me your master plan!"
Lucky Charms leaped off the building and landed promptly on the 1920s float that was going down Canal Street. Luckily for Lucky Charms, the float had a soft floor like a bouncy house, and thus, his fall was pleasant rather than deadly. To complement Lucky Charms' luck, he was serenaded by New Orleans jazz music, which flourished during his favorite time in history. Apparently, the musicians assumed that Lucky Charms was a part of the parade, and thus, they continued playing their instruments as Lucky Charms was dancing on stage. He was going to dance his way into the sunset a free man.
"I'm the luckiest man in the world," shouted Lucky Charms on stage.
Lucky Charms then turned to point his finger at a female musician playing the trombone.
"Play me off," said Lucky Charms.
The female musician played the trombone, and out came the losing horns of The Price is Right. Lucky Charms' enthusiasm fell.
"Sorry," said the female musician in an adorably sad manner.
Lucky Charms decided to grab the female musician by her collar and lifted his other hand. He was attempting to punch her for soiling the name of jazz. He heard boos and angry insults from the surrounding partygoers. Lucky Charms saw the female musician obscuring her identity by looking down, with her 1920s hat also giving her anonymity. He also saw tears dripping down onto the floor, which further contributed to the crowd's hostility towards him. The female musician looked up at him, and he saw the last thing he wanted to see: the brunette spy who was chasing him on the rooftops.
"Sorry," said HurricaneAubrey with a casual smile.
HurricaneAubrey promptly knocked Lucky Charms unconscious using her trombone, making it look like an accident. The crowd cheered as she dealt justice on the mean man.
"So sorry," whispered HurricaneAubrey.
Since 1862, the Café Du Monde in the French Quarter served its patrons beignets and drinks such as chocolate milk and coffee. Union soldiers during the Civil War, jazz musicians, and returning World War II soldiers were all customers of the Café Du Monde. And now Café Du Monde had some new customers whose names were the Nostalgia Critic, HurricaneAubrey, Jennxpenn, and the Angry Video Game Nerd. The agents were still in their 1920s attire as they dined on beignets and coffee.
"Now let's get down to business. What more information did you and Jennxpenn find out from our captured guest Lucky Charms?" asked the Critic to HurricaneAubrey.
HurricaneAubrey used a napkin to wipe the powdered sugar from her mouth before speaking.
"I and Jennxpenn were responsible for interrogating him in a secured location. I tried asking him standard interrogation questions like who is your leader and why are you a part of the mob. For several hours, I got nothing from Lucky Charms," said HurricaneAubrey.
"That's when I came in," said Jennxpenn. "Being of Irish descent, I knew that HurricaneAubrey, an Italian girl, had no business dealing with the Irish man. I decided to speak to him on his own terms by offering him a bowl of Lucky Charms cereal."
"Is that what you call traditional Irish food?" questioned HurricaneAubrey with a doubtful look on her face.
"What other Irish food did you think to give to Lucky Charms while we were interrogating him?" asked Jennxpenn back.
"Uh…potatoes," stated HurricaneAubrey, who knew that this was probably not the best answer.
"I think that would have offended Lucky Charms for reminding him of what happened to Ireland in the 18th century," said Jennxpenn.
Jennxpenn ate two handfuls of beignets into her mouth. As the three agents tried to gather their thoughts regarding Jennxpenn's unusual interrogation, Jennxpenn was enjoying her meal. Compared to many other sit-down restaurants, Café du Monde had a more casual and relaxed atmosphere, both in attire and meal options. She could gobble up beignets with her bare hands without worrying about being scolded for not holding her utensils properly or having her hat leaning heavily to the left. As Jennxpenn drank a whole cup of coffee in one gulp, she continued explaining her use of cereal diplomacy.
"Like I said, I offered Lucky Charms a box of Lucky Charms cereal to loosen the tension between us," answered Jennxpenn. "Though he was reluctant to do so, Lucky Charms started telling us that he is a part of the Irish mob led by a man named Liam "the Leprechaun" O'Hannan, and he gave us more information about where the mob would be meeting next in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. The mob will be meeting at an abandoned beer factory on the edge of Lake Michigan. And you only have to thank me for being Irish enough to get through Lucky Charms."
Jennxpenn gulped another cup of coffee in one go as HurricaneAubrey gently sipped her coffee.
"I think it was because of strategic patience that Lucky Charms gave us the valuable information," thought HurricaneAubrey.
HurricaneAubrey was about to speak up against Jennxpenn's use of Lucky Charms cereal in getting the Irish mobster to confess.
"Maybe you should try to be open and accepting of her rather than outright dismissing her," said a voice in HurricaneAubrey's head. "Maybe the Lucky Charms cereal did convince Lucky Charms after all. Don't be a bitch who can't accept that you're wrong sometimes."
The four agents finished the last of their beignets and coffee as HurricaneAubrey went into an alternative direction from criticizing Jennxpenn.
"How about we inform Chief Kristina Horner of this news?" suggested HurricaneAubrey.
"Good idea," said the Nerd.
Over the waters of Lake Michigan, a helicopter was flying towards the abandoned city of Chicago. Once one of the largest city in America, Chicago was now only fit for urban explorers and the occasional squatter with nowhere else to go. As the helicopter flew closer to the place once deemed as America's Second City, the occupants within the flying vehicle could only wonder if Chicago's destruction during the Great Schism of America was worth it. Two of those passengers were Chief Kristina Horner, who replaced the former Chief after the Great Schism, and Institute of Internet Studies scientist TamashiiHiroka, who specialized in Pokémon memes and other Pokémon related internet phenomena. As TamashiiHiroka was transferring to becoming an Internet Police agent, Chief Horner thought it would be prudent to have TamashiiHiroka be exposed to the worst of the worst the Internet Police has in captivity before going out in the field. Besides, she was going to a conference in the next few days with the top Internet Police and Institute of Internet Studies officials at the Art Institute of Chicago.
"You seem tense," said Kristina. "Are you sure you want to become a full-fledged Internet Police agent if you are scared of meeting the subjects in the Asylum?"
"I could say that I'm not scared Chief Horner, but of course, you would immediately know that I'm lying," insisted TamashiiHiroka who was now looking over the shores of Chicago now populated by fallen skyscrapers. "I would be the very last person who would want to be an Internet Police agent, but seeing the devastation caused by George Zazz and his armies, I think it would be in my best interest to join the agency."
The helicopter flew over the elevated subway lines covered with derailed subway cars.
"I understand that many are angry with the destruction of Chicago by the rebellion led by the Critic, the Nerd, and HurricaneAubrey, but what was the alternative. I'll tell you what the alternative was," said TamashiiHiroka. "I was in California when George Zazz and his armies rampaged through the state. I was in the state going to several Pokémon conventions and fan gatherings. George Zazz and his son Henry Zazz decided it was in western civilization's best interest to burn down the Pokémon meetings using the might of their armies and the backing of several Californian mayors."
TamashiiHiroka closed her eyes as she recalled what happened when Pokémon fans were spotted by George Zazz's adherents.
"I saw what George Zazz was doing throughout California and probably across America on the television screens. I could still see the flames of the fires burning those cute Pokémon dolls as George Zazz's soldiers dragged Pokémon fans out of their houses and paraded them into trucks for rehabilitation," said TamashiiHiroka as she visualized the carnage. "I could still hear the soldiers saying 'Burn ye children of the wicked one,' as they casted flamethrowers upon the innocent pink Clefairy and Skitty dolls."
As the helicopter was starting its descent between Chicago's dilapidated buildings, TamashiiHiroka continued with her traumatic memories.
"I never wanted to be a soldier. I just wanted refuge from a world that was divided with politics, religion, and social class. George Zazz and his cronies were only exacerbating the divisions of the world. And the only escape from this cruel and mad world was Pokémon. I tried to be reasonable by simply enjoying Pokémon from a bystander's perspective. I would not engage in active guerrilla warfare against George Zazz's armies, and instead, I would retreat into isolated corners of California to discuss and engage in Pokémon activities along with a few other friends," said TamashiiHiroka. "But I eventually couldn't take it anymore when Henry Zazz invaded the San Diego Comic-Con I was attending. After several months of suppressing my love for Pokémon to the public, I finally had the courage of going to an open forum that showcased a love for Pokémon and other nerdy interests, and just my luck, Henry Zazz arrived with his soldiers to persecute the fans."
Chief Horner saw TamashiiHiroka looking out the window with her clasp hand underneath her chin as she recalled how she decided to fight back against George Zazz and his allies.
"I saw the flamethrowers and cattle prods racing through the crowds of casual fans and cosplayers," said TamashiiHiroka. "As soon as the tranquilizer darts started firing, something was flowing through me that I once tried to control: rage. I just couldn't stand it anymore. Was it a crime to love Pokémon? Did Pokémon fans deserve tranquilizers darts, flamethrowers, and cattle prods? I along with several other Pokémon fans rallied together to fight back against Henry Zazz. I never wanted to be involved in the rebellion, but what choice did I have? There was no running away this time. I could go into the intricate details of me using water guns to counter Henry Zazz's flamethrowers, singing the Pokémon theme as a war cry, and rushing past Game of Thrones fans yielding swords and makeshift wildfire, but I think you now know why I want to become an Internet Police agent in the first place."
The helicopter landed near the Chicago Water Tower, one of the few surviving buildings of the Great Chicago Fire of 1871. Chief Horner stayed in the helicopter rather than getting out immediately. She was thinking about what TamashiiHiroka had to see during the Great Schism. It made Chief Horner's search for Jamie Dubs in Scandinavia, while essential to stopping George Zazz, seem tame compared to what TamashiiHiroka experienced back in America. Chief Horner wanted to dwell more on the matter but her role as the new Chief prompted her to divert that subject for another time.
"This is the Nostalgia Critic. I have information about the Irish mob," said the Critic on his Electronic Database to Chief Horner.
Stationed just outside an abandoned beer factory on the outskirts of Milwaukee, the Critic and Nerd were on the lookout for any other mob members approaching the brewery while HurricaneAubrey and Jennxpenn were inside. It has been a few days since the four agents discussed with Chief Horner about what they found in New Orleans. The agents were going to find out more truths about the Irish mob. In the middle of the night, the Critic and Nerd were sharing their reservations about how well HurricaneAubrey and Jennxpenn could work together.
"Hopefully, this will build up a relationship between the two ladies," commented the Critic.
"I'm not sure who I'm more worried about," said the Nerd. "HurricaneAubrey's insistence on being the professional of the two, thus rejecting any suggestions or help from Jennxpenn. Or Jennxpenn's rookie status causing her to take unnecessary risks to prove to everyone she is a true Internet Police agent."
"I think they will compensate for their own insecurities," said the Critic.
The Critic's Electronic Database lit up.
"It's from the Chief," said the Critic as he answered the video phone message. "We're currently serving as backup for Internet Police agents HurricaneAubrey and Jennxpenn in case the situation escalates."
"Good," said Chief Horner. "I'm just letting you know that Liam "The Leprechaun" O'Hannan has no relation to the character from the Annoying Orange.
"Thank goodness," said the Critic. "I thought we had to deal with a case of killer annoying oranges."
Chief Horner chuckled before getting to the reason she called him in the first place.
"However, we recently uncovered evidence of a larger scheme going on. It seems as if the Irish mob have allied themselves with the Italian mafia in Europe," said Chief Horner with a serious countenance.
"What?" said the Critic. "What is the big picture here. Surely, we're not dealing with the run of the mill Irish mob if they managed to ally with the Italian mafia.
"I cannot deny the implications," said Chief Horner. "Our investigations indicate that they are on the verge of a major operation years in the making. As you already know, the mob and the mafia appear to be communicating through paper mail and within the darkest reaches of the internet. Which explains our lack of precise details on what exactly they are planning."
"I theorize that the Irish mob and the Italian mafia are going to launch the rumored War of European Succession I have been investigating about," said the Nerd with urgency. "I believe I sent you the file regarding rising mafia activities and reports of stockpiles of weapons coming from Africa."
"Let's not jump to conclusions," said Chief Horner. "We need all the facts before we act. There's enough falsehoods and contradictions on the internet and in real life. Let's see what HurricaneAubrey and Jennxpenn find out at the mob meeting."
"Affirmative," said the Critic as he caught a glimpse of TamashiiHiroka in the background. The hairs on the back of his neck were rising. "Over and out."
The Critic turned off his electronic database.
"I did warn you about the War of European Succession," said the Nerd. "But you insisted on concentrating on the Idaho case. Fuck. We might have put on end to this unholy alliance between the mob and the mafia if we had our priorities on the War of European Succession in February."
"And leave those men behind in Idaho," commented the Critic. "We did what was right at the time. Still, better late than never as we're in the month of March now. It's up to Jennxpenn and HurricaneAubrey to bring us closer to ending the War of European Succession."
HurricaneAubrey and Jennxpenn were searching for an opening into the dilapidated brewery without going through the front door. Jennxpenn was holding a pistol with both of her hands as she leaned against the factory's outer wall in preparation for a possible ambush. HurricaneAubrey's pistol was in her pocket as she as carrying a large purse.
"What are you carrying in that purse of yours, HurricaneAubrey?" asked Jennxpenn.
HurricaneAubrey placed the purse on the ground, and took out four black film canisters and an aerosol spray can.
"I don't think these pieces of crap will help us against the mobsters," said Jennxpenn. "Luckily for us, I am an Irish-American who will help you get past your shortcomings of not being Irish. Unlike your poor and pathetic Italian heritage, I know everything there is to know about Ireland and its history. Just leave it all to me."
HurricaneAubrey was trying not to bicker with Jennxpenn, taking deep breaths to calm herself down. They eventually found a small opening in the factory's perimeter, and they squeezed through it to reach inside. Approaching several empty beer barrels and crouching behind them, HurricaneAubrey and Jennxpenn watched as they saw the Irish mob gather in front of a tall, red-haired man.
"My name is Patrick O'Henry. So, you better listen up," said the man named Patrick O'Henry. "Our boss The Leprechaun has called upon all Irish Americans to take up the cause to defeat our greatest foe: The Internet Police."
HurricaneAubrey gave a silent gasp as she watched O'Henry outline the Irish mob's plans against the Internet Police.
"As of this moment, our operatives have infiltrated the Internet Police, and right now, the top Internet Police officials have gathered themselves in the ruins of Chicago, Illinois, most of whom came because our moles told them to come. Of course, some came for reasons unrelated to us. Regardless, we will be able to cripple the Internet Police's leadership when we kill them in Chicago," stated O'Henry. "Even if the leaders and their subordinates manage to avoid death by our moles, then they will have to contend with the main attack. That's right my fellow Irishmen, the mob army equipped with submachine guns and vintage 1920s automobiles will wipe out the rest of the Internet Police elites on the streets of Chicago."
HurricaneAubrey saw O'Henry ramble on about how pleasurable it would be to see the blood flowing out of the skulls of fallen Internet Police agents and their entrails being dragged by their cars' tires. She turned to see if Jennxpenn was paying attention to O'Henry's plans. Much to her dismay, she saw Jennxpenn watching kitten videos on her portable device.
"You're unbelievable!" whispered HurricaneAubrey. "How can you entertain yourself at a time like this?!"
"When I'm hearing about skulls being crushed and entrails littering the streets of Chicago, I think I'll watch some kitty videos to maintain my sanity thank you very much," said an exasperated Jennxpenn.
"Unconventional as always. You could've at least be looking up material that would help us in our mission" said HurricaneAubrey as she went back to listening to O'Henry's scheme.
"Of course, the destruction of the Internet Police leadership is only phase one of our plan," said O'Henry. "Phase two will have the mob go over to Europe to assist our Italian brothers to fight for the Heartlanders under their red and yellow flag. The Italian mafia is about to overthrow the government of their homeland. Their squadrons are about to launch a simultaneous strike on the major Italian cities. Once they capture these cities, it will only be a matter of time before all of Italy falls to the mafia."
HurricaneAubrey couldn't believe it. All this time, the mafia was just stockpiling their weapons just for a suicidal chance of taking over the entire country. Being of Italian descent, this situation was especially personal.
"Why would the mafia embark on a coup now?" thought HurricaneAubrey.
It then struck her that it was currently the middle of March.
"It's so obvious. The Ides of March. The middle of March. When Julius Caesar was stabbed by the Roman Senate in the name of saving the Roman Republic. Beware the Ides of March. Julius Caesar was assassinated in 44 B.C. But why is the Italian mafia planning to take over Italy in the middle of this March. Italy is already a republic. What grievances does the mafia has that would force them to overthrow the Republic of Italy during the Ides of March?" thought HurricaneAubrey. "And why ally themselves with the Irish mob to do so?"
"Thanks to our supreme commanders, Germany will be the next to fall. Soon enough, Ireland will be joining the list of European countries destined to be liberated from the corruption of modern society once we get our full fighting force across the Atlantic," said O'Henry. "Eventually, our supreme commanders will free all of Europe with the help of our mob, the Italian mafia, and ordinary Europeans and Americans fed up with the status quo."
"Praise be to our new saviors," said one of the mob members.
"Let's hear it for the harbingers of the good old ways," said O'Henry.
The Irish mob filled the brewery with applause. Maintaining her mental constitution, HurricaneAubrey headed towards the exit.
"Where are you going?" asked Jennxpenn as she saw HurricaneAubrey crawling away from her.
"We have to warn the others about the Heartlanders' intentions for the Internet Police and for Europe," said HurricaneAubrey.
HurricaneAubrey expected Jennxpenn to follow her to the safety of the outdoors, but she was embarking on this journey alone. HurricaneAubrey looked back to see Jennxpenn was still stationed behind the barrels and holding her pistol directly at a clapping O'Henry.
"I'm ordering you to retreat now!" hissed HurricaneAubrey. "Let's go!"
"Let's take down these goons before they have the chance to join up with their buddies in Chicago," said Jennxpenn. "Never leave a man behind. Chop off the snake's head before it can strike."
"Come on!" whispered HurricaneAubrey. "There's too many of them to take on our own! Let's get out of here!"
Jennxpenn stood up to look down on the brunette woman on all four.
"If there were too many to face anyway, then why in the hell did we bring our guns to begin with!" yelled Jennxpenn as she waved her gun around carelessly.
"Jennxpenn!" screamed HurricaneAubrey with a horrified expression on her face.
"Looks like I've earned your respect!" said Jennxpenn who was glad that HurricaneAubrey was looking afraid. "Unlike you, I can take on these mobsters all by myself. All I have to do is hide behind these barrels and shoot these guys like in a video game."
"Glad to see you around here. We haven't had a live target to practice with in a while," said O'Henry.
Jennxpenn had a stupefied look on her face. She turned around and saw several submachine guns pointed at her.
"Top o' the morning to you!" exclaimed Jennxpenn as she did a brief Irish jig. "As an Irish woman, I would like to join your gang and bring glory back to the Irish community."
"Maybe you should have said that before threatening to kill us all," said O'Henry.
"Shit. Maybe that wasn't such a good idea," said Jennxpenn.
Jennxpenn saw HurricaneAubrey grovel on the ground like a dog behind her, but it was Jennxpenn that was looking more like the fool.
"Such a shame that we have to kill a member of our Irish clan, but there is nothing worse than a traitor from our own family," said O'Henry. "Take out your electronic devices gentlemen. I want to record this traitor's death to the world."
The mob members took out their electronic devices from their pockets as they aimed their submachine guns at Jennxpenn. As her life flashed before her eyes, she recalled she had an important weapon in her hand: a pistol. And she used that pistol to shoot directly at O'Henry's chest. With one bullet, she took down O'Henry, and as his body fell onto the ground, the nine remaining members of his mob had blank expressions on their faces. The mob members regained their composure as they aimed their submachine guns at Jennxpenn.
"Didn't really think this through all the way," thought Jennxpenn.
Luckily, bullets came flying away from Jennxpenn in the form of HurricaneAubrey. She fired her pistol into four of the mobsters, wounding them greatly. With five mob members down, the remaining five retaliated by firing rounds of bullets from their submachine guns. Jennxpenn and HurricaneAubrey dodged the bullets by rolling on the ground and using the beer barrels scattered throughout the factory as cover.
"Oops," said HurricaneAubrey as the four film canisters rolled out of her purse and towards the five mobsters.
"Should have brought extra bullets eh," said one of the mobsters as he fired bullets towards HurricaneAubrey.
"Let's take this bitch down," said another mobster as he kicked the film canisters out of the way.
As Jennxpenn was trying to retreat from having to face five angry men firing submachine guns, HurricaneAubrey was engage in battle as she fired her pistol and ducked behind the beer barrels.
"Gotcha," said HurricaneAubrey as she struck down another mob member. "Four more left."
"Keep firing," said one of the four remaining mobsters. "And look for the blood traitor as well."
"Will do brother," said another mob member.
HurricaneAubrey dodged a hail of bullets as she kept firing her pistol. Unfortunately, her pistol ran out of bullets.
"Come on!" shouted HurricaneAubrey as her pistol ceased its purpose.
"Looks like your luck has run out!" shouted a mobster. "Take her down, and after we take care of her friend, we'll join our brothers in Chicago."
HurricaneAubrey was ready to contemplate retreat when she saw the film canisters resting next to her. Being of little importance to the mobsters, the film canisters was going to be used by HurricaneAubrey to her full advantage. She opened the canisters and out came extra bullets. Loading up on her pistol, she saw that the mobsters were basking underneath the dimly lit light bulbs, anticipating victory before they delivered the finishing blow.
"Let's finish the job," said a mobster as he motioned his friend to approach the brunette woman. "She's probably crying hysterically."
The mobsters laughed as they approached the women hiding behind the beer barrels. HurricaneAubrey was breathing heavily as she turned around and fired her pistol at the mobsters. With the element of surprise on her side, HurricaneAubrey fired her pistol into the four remaining mobsters.
"Is it over?" said a voice off in the distance.
HurricaneAubrey looked over at Jennxpenn, with the blonde woman hugging herself as she saw the Irish mobsters lying on the floor.
"I think so," said HurricaneAubrey as she picked up the aerosol spray can that fell out of her purse. "Guess I won't be using this item today."
HurricaneAubrey happened to be standing next to a mobster who had enough strength to lift a submachine gun and aim it at HurricaneAubrey's head. Fortunately for her and unfortunately for the mobster, HurricaneAubrey was prepared and sprayed her aerosol can into the mobster's eyes
"Ahhhhh!" screamed the mobster.
"Guess this item really did come in handy," said HurricaneAubrey as she held the spray can, the key to her survival.
The doors to the factory opened, revealing the Nerd and the Critic armed with pistols. Seeing two ladies standing on a floor covered with Irish mobsters, the Critic and the Nerd lowered their pistols.
"Look like you two handled the situation quite well," said the Nerd. "I underestimated your willingness to work together as partners."
HurricaneAubrey and Jennxpenn tried smiling, but they just sighed and lowered their heads as they knew how untrue the Nerd's statement was.
"They must be exhausted," said the Critic. "I wouldn't blame them."
"Critic! I have loads to tell you. The fate of the Internet Police and Europe is at stake!" shouted HurricaneAubrey. She then decided to calm down to deliver the news in a more professional manner. "The Irish mob are planning to attack Chicago with all the top Internet Police officials being corralled there like cattle. And that's just the first phase of their ultimate plan. The second phase will involve the Irish mob joining with several American and European factions to Europe, and they aren't planning to go on holiday. They are on a crusade to free Europe from moral depravity, and they will start with conquering Italy during the Ides of March."
"The War of European Succession," said the Nerd. "I spoke with the Chief about this rumored conflict. And now she's going to experience it firsthand."
"Let's get going to Chicago then," said the Critic. "Nice work, HurricaneAubrey!"
HurricaneAubrey smiled as she ran behind the Critic and the Nerd. Jennxpenn was not impressed.
"Excuse me! I helped as well!" shouted Jennxpenn as she ran behind the three agents like a child wanting attention.
Just as the four agents reached the main door of the brewery, they heard a laugh behind them. The four agents saw the guffaw came from the mobster blinded by HurricaneAubrey's aerosol spray can.
"You don't even know what you're dealing with," said the giggling mobster. "For convenience sake, just call me The Seer. It is a more fitting nickname than my original one."
"What was your original nickname?" asked Jennxpenn.
"Never mind that," said The Seer. "I must thank you brunette woman for making me blind. After agonizing a few minutes with the chemicals rendering my eyes meaningless, I came to realize it gave me a greater sense of purpose. Without being distracted by the materialism of this modern age, I can attain wisdom through my other senses. I can feel the beauty of the grass growing beneath my feet. I can fully taste the splendor of sweets without being put off by its garish colors. I can hear the harmonious music of an Irish harp. And I can smell the homemade ingredients of a proper kitchen rather than see the meal itself being cooked in a sterile laboratory. You see. I have transcended beyond being a run-of-the-mill mobster and achieved enlightenment."
The four agents were taken aback at an ordinary mobster speaking to them in this way.
"We're wasting time here! Let's go!" yelled the Critic as he motioned the three other agents to leave.
"I don't think you want to leave," said The Seer. "You have no idea what you're dealing with. Not even close."
"We know everything about your crusade to free Europe from a new Dark Age," said HurricaneAubrey. "There is nothing more you can tell us, you misguided man."
"Shame that you aren't on our side. You could've been a valuable asset to us, especially with how well you took us on and blinded me in the end," said The Seer. "And I think you're the one who is more blind than I am."
"What are you talking about?" asked HurricaneAubrey.
"For starters, I'm a woman," said The Seer.
Stunned at this revelation, HurricaneAubrey rushed to take off The Seer's hat, revealing a head with hair tied into a bundle. Looking upon The Seer's face, HurricaneAubrey could now see the feminine attributes.
"Looks like the Irish mob are a bunch of misogynists who won't allow women into their ranks," said Jennxpenn as she towered over the blind woman. "That should really have sent off warning signs of how they really viewed you since you disguised yourself as a man."
"Oh, how blind you are. The Irish mob was more than happy to let me into their group provided I shared the Heartlander doctrine. My gender had no bearing on my admission into the mob," said The Seer. "I only tied my hair to prevent it from interfering with my fighting skills."
"Enough of this bullshit," said the Nerd. "Either you tell us what we don't know, or else, we'll leave you here to make friends with the rats."
With her newfound intelligence, The Seer knew that she was in a vulnerable position, and thus, she sensibly told them some essential information.
"When the blonde woman shot O'Henry, we recorded her act of violence on our electronic devices, and shortly before we went after her and her brunette friend, we sent the video to all of the Heartlanders around the world. So, congratulations blondie, you fired the opening shot of the War of European Succession," said The Seer.
"Thank you," said Jennxpenn, who couldn't think of a counterargument or anything else to say.
"And while you were listening to me discussing the joys of my four remaining senses, The Leprechaun is now mobilizing his mob forces onto Chicago, the Italian mafia has begun the assault on the major Italian cities, and the American military stationed in Germany has been taken over by the Heartlanders in an internal coup. We intended to start our campaigns on St. Patrick's Day, but thanks to blondie, our plans have started early after all of us saw her shooting O'Henry. So, thank you blondie for catching the world off guard," said The Seer.
"At least we know who exactly we're dealing with and how we're going to stop these Heartlanders," said Jennxpenn trying to reassure herself that she did the right thing.
"Still blind are you. Maybe you should know who the Supreme Commanders of the Heartlanders are. See if you're willing to sacrifice yourselves after you get a glimpse of them," stated The Seer.
The Seer fumbled through her pants' pockets as she took out her portable device for an image of the Heartlanders' Supreme Commanders. The wallpaper of her portable device had two older men and one young woman, individuals the four Internet Police agents never wanted to see as the supreme commanders of the Heartlanders. Jennxpenn saw the middle-aged man and the young woman who were responsible for killing a teenage boy for failing to recite the Gettysburg Address. HurricaneAubrey was having flashbacks of the young woman on the wallpaper pointing a gun to her head on a plane trip to Springfield, Illinois. The Critic had a feeling of dread as he caught sight of the oldest man out of the unholy trinity.
"It can't be," said the four agents simultaneously with terrorized looks on their faces.
In the moments before the shot heard and seen round the world, Chief Horner was accompanying TamashiiHiroka as she stood in front of a glass container containing an Asylum occupant by the name of Harry S. Plinkett. Though he was bound to a wheelchair, the Chief of the Internet Police and an Internet Police agent in training still felt vulnerable as he glared at them. Nadine, an Internet Police agent stationed at the Asylum, was reading off Mr. Plinkett's personal history and crimes from her clipboard.
"This is Harry S. Plinkett. Famous for his evisceration of the Star Wars prequels. Regarded by many as a master in film analysis and critique," explained Nadine in a thick New Jersey accent. "Captured by the Internet Police agents the Nostalgia Critic and the Angry Video Game Nerd during a raid in Teaneck, New Jersey."
"What's so bad about him?" asked TamashiiHiroka, who didn't know why she felt fear in front of an elderly man who could barely walk and whose holding cell was a squalor of pizza rolls, moldy couches, and broken filming equipment.
"Let me run down a list of what this kind man has done to deserve being here," said Nadine reading from a clipboard. "Murdered his first wife by slamming a Cadillac into a tree and sending her flying out the windshield, slit the wrists of his second wife Bambi after she was caught stealing money from his wallet, pushed a hooker down a well, killed a prostitute with bug spray, and stuffed two women into a refrigerator of flesh-eating cockroaches." Nadine saw TamashiiHiroka cover her mouth in horror. "Should I continue on with Mr. Plinkett gassing a Halloween partygoer dressed as a Navi?"
"No," said TamashiiHiroka simply as she stared at the serial killer and sociopath Mr. Plinkett, who was looking at her with interest. "Excuse me."
Chief Horner saw TamashiiHiroka retreating to the Asylum's observation deck, which had a clear view of the holding cells within this vast space beneath Lake Michigan.
"Keep an eye on Plinkett while I comfort TamashiiHiroka," said Chief Horner to Nadine.
"Will do," said Nadine as she saw Chief Horner make her way to the observation deck. "You know, I don't think TamashiiHiroka is qualified to be an Internet Police agent with her being shell-shocked at even the mention of Plinkett's crimes."
With Chief Horner out of sight, Nadine pressed her face against the glass window.
"Is it time, Nadine? Time to show the world what real filmmaking is?" asked Mr. Plinkett in a grumbling voice.
Nadine pressed her hand against the glass screen, matching the outline of her hand with Mr. Plinkett's own hand.
"Not just yet," said Nadine.
"While we wait, get me a pizza roll," said Mr. Plinkett.
Chief Horner climbed the metal stairs to the observation deck where TamashiiHiroka was trying to relax her mind after coming face to face with the notorious Mr. Plinkett.
"Why does this place need to exist?" asked TamashiiHiroka to no one. "Why must there be people like Mr. Plinkett?
"The Asylum exists to contain those deemed a threat on the internet. That's what the Internet Police is for. In fact, that's what the police are for. To capture and hopefully rehabilitate criminals. What else were you expecting when you decided to become an Internet Police agent?" said Chief Horner.
"Creating a perfect world," answered TamashiiHiroka. "Maybe crafting a utopian society would be a little too ambitious as a single Internet Police agent."
Chief Horner gazed upon all the subjects in the Asylum as she leaned forward on the railing. She thought about the origins of the Internet Police organization in the 1990s, around the time the World Wide Web became accessible to the public. She didn't want to discourage TamashiiHiroka from joining the Internet Police, but she had to give her all the information required to make an informed decision.
"Do you remember what happened during the 1990s?" asked Chief Horner.
"Historically or pop culturally?" responded TamashiiHiroka. "Pop culturally, the Pokémon games and anime began in the 1990s, and it was when Japanese animation gained mainstream attention in the west with the likes of Sailor Moon and Neon Genesis Evangelion. Historically, I can recall the reunification of Germany, the end of apartheid in South Africa, the triumph of coalition forces against Iraq in the Gulf War, and the collapse of the Soviet Union."
"I see that you know the 1990s like you grew up during that era," commented Chief Horner. "How did everyone feel during that time?"
"Optimistically," said TamashiiHiroka. "For more than forty years, the Cold War had threatened to destroy the world in an inferno of nuclear weapons, and while the U.S. and the U.S.S.R. were trapped in a cycle of mutually assured destruction, the rest of the world experienced several proxy wars between the two superpowers, most prominently the Korean and Vietnam War. With the dismantling of the Berlin Wall and the fall of communism in eastern Europe, the specter of the Cold War had come to an end, and with the adoption of capitalism in places like China, it seemed that the world was becoming more interconnected."
"It would appear that the world was becoming more intertwined, as evident when you brought up how Japanese media was becoming more familiar to the West," said Chief Horner. "And I would argue that the World Wide Web played a huge role in connecting people throughout the 1990s."
"It must have been great being an adult in the 1990s with all this optimism and prosperity in the air," said TamashiiHiroka.
"Not quite," explained Chief Horner. "In eastern Europe, there was a lot of growing pains when the region emerged from forty years of communism and had to readopt capitalism and democracy. And in Russia after the end of the Soviet Union, there was an economic downturn that overshadowed the Great Depression. You also have the breakup of Yugoslavia that resulted in the ethnic cleansing of minorities in the Balkans. And let's not forget the Rwandan genocide."
TamashiiHiroka's rose-colored view of the 1990s was faltering as Chief Horner told her even more hard truths.
"In the West, there were devastating events like the Oklahoma City Bombing and the growing threat of cyber terrorism that put a damper on the view that the fast arriving 21st century would be utopian," stated Chief Horner. "It was the latter that led to the creation of the Internet Police in the 1990s. The first Internet Police agents were wide-eyed optimists who thought they could secure the internet with ease. They figured that the instances of terrorism and ethnic cleansing were just minor setbacks to the ultimate paradise that was waiting for them in the 21st century."
"I imagine the atmosphere around the creation of the Internet Police must have euphoric and hopeful," commented TamashiiHiroka.
"You couldn't have said it better. They thought that their duties would be simple and straightforward when founding the Internet Police in Chicago, an appropriate location considering its central location within the continental United States. The Internet Police started in one small Chicago skyscraper that the first agents thought would be enough to fulfill their task of arresting and treating cyber criminals. But as the 1990s ended and the new millennium was upon us, the Internet Police expanded to several skyscrapers as the scope of internet crimes exploded exponentially. It must have been a shock to these first agents that the 21st century wasn't going to be as peaceful as they hoped it would be," said Chief Horner.
TamashiiHiroka saw the rows upon rows of inmates within the Internet Police's Asylum. She could imagine the first agents only having one floor of their skyscraper headquarters dedicated to holding criminals. It must have crushed these Internet Police agents to realize that the world was much more complex and dangerous than they thought.
"So, you're saying that all hope is lost, and that joining the Internet Police would be pointless," said TamashiiHiroka as she looked upon the Asylum's prisoners displaying varying levels of insanity.
"Absolutely not," said Chief Horner. "If that was the case, then the Internet Police would have disbanded around the turn of the 21st century. But the Internet Police is still here. Though I'll be honest in saying that many agents have lost hope in recent years. Indeed, my predecessor resigned as the Chief of the Internet Police after being subjected to humiliating conditions at George Zazz's Utopia Island. Coupled with the unenviable task of rebuilding America after the turmoil of the Great Schism, she decided to step down, and nobody held it against her for doing so. You see, even the Chief decided that she had enough the Internet Police and preparing for the unpredictable. I was reluctant to take on the powers of being the Internet Police Chief. But I had a glimmer of hope that the Internet Police could be reformed and move forward from its hostile takeover by George Zazz."
TamashiiHiroka thought back to the aftermath of the Great Schism of America. Her moment of resistance at the San Diego Comic-Con was only fleeting when the actual killings began. She knew that she didn't stand a chance against the rampaging squads of Patricians who were blood-thirsty and looking for Plebeians like her. No longer feeling safe and trusting no one, she decided to go solo and live in her car.
"I escaped the worst of the fighting in the Great Schism. I didn't have the bravery to go out and risk my life for what appeared to be a losing cause. I surrendered myself to living the rest of my life on the run, and for that, I regretted it. I was in the Venice neighborhood of Los Angeles days after the official end of the Great Schism. I walked past the revelry of the crowds. I should have felt happy that I survived to see the end of the Great Schism. But as I heard the people around me sharing stories of their heroism against Patricians with machine guns and swords, I knew that I had done nothing of substance against George Zazz. I was a coward despite my disgust for the man. As I saw electronic devices showing the faces of the people killed by George Zazz's patricians and the ex-Patricians, I thought about how many more people I could have saved if I didn't become a hermit," explained TamashiiHiroka.
TamashiiHiroka closed her eyes for a few seconds before opening them back up again.
"No more running away. I will become an Internet Police agent," said TamashiiHiroka.
At that moment, Chief Horner's Electronic Database started buzzing. She picked it up, and upon hearing its message, she immediately grabbed TamashiiHiroka and started running down from the observation platform.
"What are you doing?!" asked TamashiiHiroka, who was stunned by Chief Horner's look of fear on her face.
"We need to evacuate immediately," said Chief Horner.
"Why?" questioned TamashiiHiroka.
TamashiiHiroka's question was answered as the Asylum was bathed in red lighting, and soon, alarms were blaring like air raid sirens. Chief Horner and TamashiiHiroka then saw Nadine escorting Mr. Plinkett by his wheelchair as she began opening the holding cells one by one. It appeared that there were other renegade agents who were doing the same with the other cells.
"I'm afraid that the Internet Police has been infiltrated by moles. We need to get you out of here," said Chief Horner.
Thousands of miles away, the War of European Succession had begun. In a private villa in Naples, Italy, a young woman hidden in the shadows was watching a large, electronic map of Europe. Like a game of Civilization, the military units on the map were moving towards various European cities with the intent of capturing them. So far, the map showed the Italian mafia pouring units into Rome, Florence, and Milan. Further north, Germany was becoming redder as her forces were using American military equipment to seize control of Berlin and the rest of northern Germany before moving south into Bavaria. Switching to a map of America, the young woman smoked through a cigarette holder as she watched as units representing the Irish mob were approaching Chicago. The Irish invasion of Chicago and the entire War of European Succession was supposed to take place on St. Patrick's Day, but due to a blonde Internet Police agent firing the first shot and becoming knowledgeable of the Heartlanders' plans, the young woman decided to launch the War of European Succession early.
"No matter," said the young woman in a soft voice. "The war has already begun. Soon, I'll be the Empress of Europe."
In her mind, the Heartlanders would be victorious in the end, and with the Internet Police decimated in America, they would be unable to stop their liberation of Europe. The Heartlanders would not accept the tedious nature of modern life. They wouldn't accept living until they faded into obscurity and irrelevance. Now was the moment the Heartlanders would influence the course of human history. Little did the young woman realized that speedboats were heading towards the coast of Chicago. They were driven by the Internet Police agents who heard the news of an impeding attack on the high-ranking Internet Police officials. At the forefront of the amphibious landing were the Nostalgia Critic, the Angry Video Game Nerd, HurricaneAubrey, and Jennxpenn. They landed onto the Chicago shoreline, charging with the other Internet Police agents onto the beaches and roadways as they faced the Irish mob. The counterattack in the American campaign of the War of European Succession had begun.
Please review this story to provide me some advice on improving it. What other internet personalities or memes should the Internet Police encounter?
