"This way, prisoners," the leader of Helmet's personal squad ordered the heroes, pushing them towards the just completed Spaceball 6, "We're all taking a ride to Hockeygol..."
"Daddy!" Vespa noticed her father being held atop the ramp and rushed to him.
"Vespa my child," Roland ran to her as well, "I had a feeling you'd come."
"Are you all right, Daddy?"
"Other than Helmet taking my crown to use it as part of his doomsday weapon against our home," the king shot Helmet an angry look.
"And Druidia's end will be one to remember, and you're going to see it unfold live," Helmet taunted him. "Ringh, are you set on your end?" he asked the approaching Ron.
"I am, Lord Helmet," Ron told him, "So if I may have the mawg and the mole," he gestured at Barf and Meteor, "I can fulfill my fantasies with them, and you can go about your business with the others."
"No way!" Barf grabbed a gun off a trooper and waved it around wildly, "I'm on a strict fantasy-free diet, and I'm not going anywhere without an attorney!"
"I think you are, my canid friend," Ron pulled out a large stick and waved it tantalizingly at the mawg. Barf's eyes went wide, and his tongue and tail started wagging. "No, Barf, don't!" Vespa cried to him.
"Can't...help it...Princess...it's in...my...DNA...must...fetch...!" Barf droned, his eyes locked in on the stick.
"All right then boy, fetch," Ron tossed the stick through the doorway behind himself. Barf dropped the gun and ran through the doorway after it-upon which Also-Ron, standing atop a ladder behind the door, brained him hard over the head with a frying pan. "Uh, I'll have the roast hasenpfeffer, Waiter," Barf dazedly droned before falling down flat on his face. "It never fails," Ron grinned triumphantly, "And for helping to overthrow me from my empire, mawg, I am especially going to enjoy giving you your fatal fantasy. "Bring the mole," he instructed his followers, who rushed to take the still dazed Meteor from the troopers. "All right, on board you two," other troops shoved Vespa and Roland aboard Spaceball 6. "I should warn you, you won't get away with this, Helmet!" Roland remained defiant, "While I'm still pretty angry with Lone Starr for shoving me out of his Winnebago without a backup plan, don't think for one moment he won't be here to make you all pay...!"
"I find that very unlikely, King," Helmet shot him down, "By all the accounts I have, Lone Starr has moved on. And if he comes back, I have arranged a backup plan..."
"...namely, me," came the familiar voice from up the hall. "What!? Pizza the Hutt!? But you ate yourself to death!" Vespa gasped at the sight of him coming towards them with his entourage.
"I did, but I'm back, and better than ever," Pizza declared. "OK, Vinnie, I'm leaving you in charge," he told the gangster droid, "If Lone Starr shows up, take him alive and send him to me on Hockeygol. I want to finish him myself."
"With pleasure, Boss. OK boys, let's go," Vinnie called to the gangster droids and pizza men behind him. About half of them followed him off the ship, the ramp tilting up after they left in preparation for departure to Hockeygol. "And on the further note of your lost husband, Princess," Helmet approached her, "since we can assume he's too much of a coward to ever come back, I have made arrangements for a new wedding to a better groom for you."
"I'll never marry you, Helmet!" Vespa snarled defiantly, "And nothing you say or do will break me!"
"Actually, I had something far more horrifying in mind," Helmet walked over to the nearest closet and knocked on the door. "It's just about time for the wedding," he called inside, opening the door to reveal a snoring Prince Valium inside. Throwing his hands up in disgust, Helmet whacked the prince on the shoulder, waking him up. "Oh, hi," Valium greeted Vespa sleepily, "Ready to finally get married?"
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Vespa's scream of pure horror echoed loudly throughout Spaceball 6 as its engines ignited and it flew towards Hockeygol-none of the pilots, nor any of the thousands of other personnel on board noticing the tour group congregating in front of the prison balls below...
"Ladies and gentlemen, if you could all gather around, we can start the tour," the bubbly tour guide told the Planet Spaceball citizens gathering in front of her, "If you can line up...oh, a clown troupe, very interesting..." she frowned at the sight of Lone Starr and the others approaching, all of them dressed as clowns.
"Uh, yeah, we're with the, uh, Klotski Klowns, Galactic Branch Number 839; we've been tapped by President Skroob to perform for him once Druidia blows up," Lone Starr said in a deeper voice than usual.
"Oh no sir, Druidia's not going to blow up, but given they've hogged all their air, they would deserve it if they did," the tour guide told him. "Anyway, everyone, my name's Jody, and it's my pleasure to take you on the following tour of our great prison system here in Spaceball City," she happily told her guests, "And we'll have a special treat for you at the end of the tour: our good friend Ron Belzel Ringh will personally execute our evil longtime enemy Barf the mawg in our central amphitheater, and you'll all get to see it free of charge. Now come with me, and we'll learn a few things today."
"Barf..." Lone Starr muttered worriedly under his breath. "We are loaded up, Yogurt?" he whispered to the Schwartz master.
"Yep, the boys got everything they could out of the bags," Yogurt whispered back, nodding at the Dinks, "We just need the right moment to break away."
"You got what you had stashed in your cab?" Lone Starr whispered to Roe as well.
"All here," Roe tapped his pockets, "Feels good to get back in the field again."
"Shhh," Yogurt hissed at him as the tour group entered the first room. "Before you, you see an exact reproduction of the meditation chamber that Lord Dark Helmet studied the Down Side of the Schwartz in under the tutelage of his mentor Lord Choke, may God rest his soul," the tour guide explained, "It took Lord Helmet a good five weeks to learn everything he could about the Down Side..."
"And he's still pretty inept with it," Lone Starr muttered under his breath. The guide did not hear him. "All right, once you're done taking pictures, we'll enter the prison complex, where you can see our friendly and courteous guards using tongue looseners on our prisoners," she happily told the group, leading them on.
"This better not be a long tour," Lone Starr mumbled, checking his watch. The tour, however, dragged on for close to another half hour as the guide showed them every nook and cranny of the prison complex, including an extensive look at the maximum-security royal wing that the hero knew all too well from his canonical adventures. "All right, that concludes our regular tour," the guide finally announced upon reaching a T in the hallway, "Follow me to the right here, and you'll get to a see a mortal enemy of President Skroob and Lord Helmet get what he deserves..."
"Uh, which way's the bathroom?" Roe spoke up, "We'd, well, like to clear things out before the show," he gestured at the rest of the disguised heroes.
"Down the hall to your left; catch up quickly, please," the guide told them, leading the rest of the tour group off to the right. The heroes bustled towards the bathroom, stepped inside, closed the door, waited ten seconds, then stuck their heads back out. "All clear," Yogurt pumped his fist, "Let's move, gents."
"I was incarcerated here for six months ten years ago; I think that way's a shortcut to the execution amphitheater," Roe pointed up the hall to the door at the far end.
"Let's hurry then; Barf's probably out of time now," Lone Starr shot another worried glance at his watch.
"Follow me," Roe rushed to the door-then came a screeching halt in front of it and held up his hands at the rest of the good guys. "Wait, can't go this way; the whole hall's crawling with troopers!" he hissed. And indeed, when Lone Starr glanced over his shoulder through the door's window, he saw dozens of Spaceball troopers crawling on their hands and knees up the hall in formation. "Terrific!" he muttered in disgust, "Now what!?"
"I know what," Yogurt glanced up at the ceiling, "These futuristic cities always have loads of air ducts leading everywhere. And all of us are small enough to fit in them. So, give me a lift up, boys," he told the Dinks, who started forming a pyramid, "We've got a date with the executioner."
"Not that I'm complaining with such a convenient break, but why do these places always have so many ducts?" Lone Starr wondered, crawling after everyone else through the ducts, "And are you sure we're going the right way, Yogurt?" he asked the Schwartz master.
"I'm feeling Barf's Schwartz presence," Yogurt declared, "We're heading the right way..."
"And I hear Ringh," Roe held up his hand. Sure enough, the former tyrant's voice could be heard some distance away in the ducts. "Perfect," Yogurt nodded, "As long as there's no more setbacks, we should get there in time..."
Perhaps predictably, however, it was at this point the grating they were all climbing over broke, sending them crashing into a laboratory. "All right, hold it, all of you!" shouted an old woman standing nearby in a deeply masculine voice. She-or perhaps he-raised two test tubes high in the air, "One more step, and I blow this lab to kingdom come...!"
"With those ingredients?" Yogurt raised an eyebrow, "I'm not a scientific expert, but I'm sure smashing those two against the floor would just leave it a lot more colorful." He approached the newcomer. "Dr. Waylon Shipps, I presume?"
"How'd you know, Yogurt?" Dr. Shipps frowned, lowering the test tubes.
"One, because we're running out of story space to make you relevant, so now's as good a time as any to bring you fully in; two, given your backstory, it made sense you'd want to come back for more revenge against the Spaceballs for what they did to you," Yogurt explained.
"Well, you guessed right," Dr. Shipps confessed, "I snuck in on the last tour; I was wiring this place to blow. Surprised, though; my girl Mary Sue was supposed to have beaten down the Spaceballs already; I was just supposed to mop up afterwards. What went wrong...?"
"What went wrong, Doctor, with all due respect, is that she let being one with the Schwartz completely corrupt her, and she walked straight into a trap; Yogurt sensed it on the way here," Lone Starr explained to him.
"But that's impossible; Mary Sue's perfect, she has been her whole life," Dr. Shipps protested, "Even though I haven't seen her in years thanks to Skroob holding me prisoner to create his doomsday weapon, I've always known she was..."
The door to the lab was opened behind them. "So, there you are," the tour guide greeted them, "I was wondering where you clowns had all run off to..."
"Oh, uh, we, uh, we found this old lady had gotten, uh, lost, and we were, uh, waiting for you to show up so we could get her safely out," Roe rambled, gesturing at Dr. Shipps.
"Oh, OK," the guide bought it, "Well come along, then, the fun is about to begin..."
"Vinnie..." Lone Starr exclaimed softly once they'd been directed to the amphitheater, noticing Pizza's top enforcer standing by Ron and Also-Ron in the middle of the arena, along with the gangster droids and pizza men, "Don't tell me they randomly brought Pizza back for this!? But why?"
"Probably merchandising," Yogurt hissed at him, "The more characters, the more merchandise sales we can make once the film's released."
"Got it," his protégé nodded. The hero's gaze then shifted to Barf, who was standing in the middle of the amphitheater, straitjacketed and attached to small flying saucer. Behind him, Meteor was strapped down to a platform, a huge boulder on his chest and a pile driver positioned above him. "Got any plans to getting them out of here?" he whispered to his team.
"I'd just set the fuse in the lab when you guys showed up; it should blow in no more than five minutes," Dr. Shipps whispered back, "That should at least give us a diversion."
"It's a start. Roeschel," Yogurt leaned towards his former apprentice, "There was a time you had some of the greatest potential with the power of the Schwartz of anyone I've known. You think you've still got some left in you?"
"It's Roe now, Yogurt. And I don't know; haven't tried in years," the cabdriver admitted. "And without a ring..."
"For the truly great, the Schwartz lives in them. Nonetheless, though," Yogurt dug out another Crackerjack box, opened it up, dug out another Schwartz ring, and handed it to Roe. He then pointed his finger at Lone Starr's smashed Schwartz ring, causing it to be magically repaired. They turned their gaze to the arena as they sat down, where Ron was tapping a microphone. "Greetings, residents of Planet Spaceball," he greeted the scores of average Spaceballs in the stands, "It is my distinct pleasure to be here with you today, to enact out the following fantasies against those that you and I both hate. So, without further ado, let us proceed."
He walked over to Barf. "As you can see, Fido, in a moment, you will be lifted high in the air and dropped," he told the mawg with a triumphant grin, "Once that happens, those two giant heat-seeking missiles," he pointed at the pair of missiles stationed at either end of the amphitheater, "will be launched towards you and blow you to bits. And as usual, once the fantasy begins, I am powerless to stop it, and in this case have no wish to stop it. So, any final words?"
"Just this," Barf defiantly turned around, lifted his leg, and relieved himself on Ron's pant leg. Ron sputtered in rage. "Also-Ron, take him up now, just for that!" he barked to the midget, standing behind a control panel to the side.
"Taking him up, Boss," Also-Ron threw a lever that activated the flying saucer Barf was attached to, lifting the mawg up slowly in the air. "As for the ever so not heroic Meteor Mole," Ron strode over to him, "in a moment, ladies and gentlemen, this pile driver will slam down on top of him, crushing this rock, and his chest with it. Any final words, mole?" he asked Meteor.
"I'd give you what he did if I could," Meteor snarled, gesturing with his head at the rising Barf above him.
"But you won't. Also-Ron..." Ron stepped away from the platform and gestured to his sidekick, who threw another lever, starting the pile driver rising up over the mole. "OK," Lone Starr mused, staring at Barf floating high above him, "Getting Barf down from there's most important. Boatz," he turned to Roe, "How about you take the left missile, and I take the right?"
"Problem is, though, where do we send them?" Roe looked hesitant, "I don't want to get anyone else killed..."
"I know, but all you have to do is deflect them upwards, out of anyone's harm's way, got it?" the hero pressed him. Roe nodded softly. "Worth a try," he mused, turning towards the left missile, which was starting to ignite, "Here goes..."
He and Lone Starr aimed their Schwartz rings at the missiles and channeled the power of the Schwartz as best they could. Sure enough, both missiles started glowing right before they launched, and, when both men twisted their wrists around, deflected upwards away from Barf and soared harmlessly into the stratosphere. The crew gasped in shock. "What is going on here!?" Ron demanded, "Also-Ron, what did you touch!?"
"Nothing, Boss; I can't control them!" Also-Ron pulled multiple levers, but could not regain control of the missiles.
"Well bring them back down...!" the former tyrant ordered, but it was then a tremendous bang and plume of flames and smoke rose up from the laboratory. "Great work, Doc; that's our cue!" Yogurt patted Dr. Shipps on the back. "Get Meteor, boys, I'll get the mawg," he instructed the Dinks, then somersaulted spectacularly through the air and caught the now falling Barf in mid-flight. As the Spaceballs rather stupidly just stood around watching this amazing display, the Dinks then rushed Meteor's platform, unstrapped the mole, and pulled him off just as the pile driver had reached its zenith. Yogurt then pointed at several gangster droids nearby that were taking aim at the Dinks and jerked his hand backwards, sending the droids flying onto the platform, where they were promptly crushed into scrap metal by the pile driver once it came crashing down. "Come on down, and let's get out of here!" Yogurt shouted to Lone Starr and Roe in the stands.
"Coming," Lone Starr took a deep breath, tapped into the Schwartz, and somersaulted through the air himself-but face planted hard into the ground on landing. "Ow!" he groaned in agony.
"Oof!" Roe also landed hard on his face next to him. "That felt great!" the cabbie was excited, though, "I haven't felt that kind of rush in ages! This is...!"
"Stop them, kill them!" Ron bellowed at the troopers now rushing into the amphitheater with their guns cocked. The former tyrant seized Also-Ron and ran for the beamers conveniently nearby. "So, what do you think?" Lone Starr muttered to the others, seeing themselves being quickly surrounded by troopers.
"You want Chilly Chilly?" Roe offered. Lone Starr mused it over, then shrugged. "OK, let's do it. Chilly Special on three."
"Dink dink, dink dink dink, dink dink dink!" one of the Dinks read out a snap count as Roe pulled out a set of freeze pellets. The cabbie snapped them to Lone Starr, who flipped it to Yogurt, who tossed one to each of the Dinks, who flung them in every direction at the approaching troopers. The pellets activated on impact, freezing the troopers inside blocks of ice. "Good old Chilly Special never fails," Roe declared in triumph, yanking a gun out of one of the frozen Spaceball's hands, "OK, let's scram."
He blasted open the nearest gate and ran towards it. "Barf, this way," Lone Starr aimed his Schwartz ring at the mawg, which unlocked the straitjacket. He took his sidekick's paw and ran with him towards the exit, ducking blasts of laser fire coming towards them from more troopers now giving pursuit. "You don't know glad I am you came back, Boss," Barf thanked him, grabbing up Meteor and thrusting the mole on his shoulders, "Helmet's got the princess and the others; they're taking them to Hockeygol so they can watch Druidia be destroyed."
"Then that's where we're going-pardon me," Lone Starr grabbed the mop off a janitor cleaning the floor at the next junction and scrubbed the floor down hard. He gave the befuddled janitor back the mop and took off running with the others again. Moments later, the Spaceball troopers all slipped in unison on the wet floor and slid screaming across the hall and down the flight of stairs on the other side. In front of the heroes, however, a dozen or so gangster droids now appeared, also heavily armed. "Freeze, you mugs!" one of them buzzed.
"I've got this one," Barf smashed open a fire hose case conveniently nearby on the wall, yanked out the hose, spun the nozzle to crank it up full blast, and sprayed the droids with a sharp blast of water. They continued firing for a moment, but soon stopped, having thoroughly rusted. "Good thinking," Lone Starr patted the mawg on the shoulder. "OK, Roe, you remember where we parked!?" he asked the cabbie, who was firing back at more Spaceball troopers coming up the hall behind them.
"Sure do," Roe shouted back, blasting three guards in quick succession, "A half mile down the end of the hall, make a left, and we should be there."
"Half mile!?"
"Hey, I've been here before, I know the way..."
"But you're not going there, you good guy scum!" came the sneer of the prison complex's main commandant to their left. Dozens more troopers burst out of doors and surrounded the heroes. "Spectacular escape plan, gentlemen. But all for naught against the imperious forces of Planet Spaceball!" the commandant smugly taunted them. "Dispense with any delays and shoot them now," he commanded his men, who cocked their guns and took aim at the heroes. "Uh, Yogurt, I don't think we ever covered this in our training...!" a pale Roe hissed at him
"We didn't," Yogurt grimly took in the dozens of guns pointed right at his face, "Only a miracle can save us now..."
Just then a loud neigh rang out. "Miracle!" Barf exclaimed, seeing the well-known white horse leading a cart up the hall towards them, sending Spaceballs diving out of its way. "Hey, you guys need a lift?" the driver beamed down at them, pulling to a stop in front of them.
"Josephus, you have no idea how glad we are to see you. On board, everyone," Yogurt leaped onto the back of the cart, followed by the others. "Hanger B-6, and step on it," he told Josephus.
"Hold on tight," Josephus cracked the reigns hard. Miracle took off at a full gallop up the hall. "You idiots!" the commandant shouted at his men, "Don't just stand around there gaping; after them! And call out the Suicide Squad!"
Laser blasts resumed firing at the heroes from behind as the troopers chased after the cart. "You guys must have really gotten them mad if they're resorting to the Suicide Squad now," Josephus told his passengers, ducking low to avoid the lasers.
"Well, have you got any more Roman Red?" Lone Starr started digging around through the debris at the bottom of the cart.
"Sure do, and a whole space age arsenal too," Josephus reached down with his right hand and pulled out several gigantic laser guns. "All right, now this is superior firepower!" Roe exclaimed, swaying to hold on to the gun under its weight. "Eat that, boys!" he returned fire at the pursuing Spaceball troops.
"Take this to the bank and cash it!" Meteor seized another super gun and fired as well, missing the troops, but blasting chunks of metal down from the ceiling and conking the troopers on the head, knocking them senseless. "Allow me," Lone Starr picked the mole up and pivoted him sideways to fire at several gangster droids coming from a side hall, exploding them into spare parts. He then turned Meteor further to blast several pepper men and sausage men jumping through a closing door with guns, sizzling them to crisps. "See, I've told you I know what I'm doing!" Meteor shouted at the hero.
"Just be careful, bro; Miracle and I might need to bail out Robin Hood in another story soon, and we'd like to do it in one piece," Josephus warned Meteor, who continued firing blindly away in whichever direction Lone Starr turned him. Within five minutes, they'd reached the hangar in question. A lone guard stood at the door to the hangar. He jolted in shock to see Miracle coming right at him and started to take aim, but Lone Starr reached out and decked him backwards over the railing before he could fire. The guard fell screaming to the hangar below, where he absurdly shattered like a vase into a thousand pieces upon impact for some reason. Miracle roared down the ramp into the hangar, where Roe's taxi stood conveniently parked next to the Eagle 5-A. "Guess this is your stop," Josephus pulled Miracle to a halt next to the vehicles.
"And not a second too soon; if we were a minute later, we'd be here over an hour and have to pay another ninety cents for parking," Yogurt said, nodding at the sign on the wall listing the parking rates. "OK, cover our flank with some of that Roman Red," he instructed Josephus, who nodded and pulled out a gigantic weed cigarette, "Everyone else cover your noses," he instructed the rest of the heroes, "We don't want you getting...uh oh," his gaze turned to the doors to the adjacent hangar, which were bending in from repeated blows, "Looks like the Suicide Squad's coming in..."
"Get in the cab, Yogurt, I'll take care of this," Roe told him, waving Yogurt and the Dinks into the back of his taxi. "Give me support here, little guy," he asked Meteor, handing his mega-gun to the mole.
"With pleasure," Meteor swayed even worse under the weight of both super guns, but managed to stay upright. He took aim at the hangar doors as they broke through, and the heavily armed Suicide Squad charged in. Roe quickly pointed his Schwartz ring at the anti-aircraft cannons lining the hangar. The cannons glowed and shifted around, pointing straight at the approaching Suicide Squad. "OK boys, give us your best shot!" Roe dared them, gesturing at all the big guns now facing their foes. The Suicide Squad screeched to a halt, grimly took in the colossal amount of firepower confronting them, and then, true to their name, put their guns to their heads and blew their brains out in unison. "So much for them," Roe scooped Meteor up and ran for his cab. "See you on Hockeygol," he called to Lone Starr, who was rushing for the Winnebago.
"Drive carefully," Lone Starr threw the door open. "Good thing I kept the spare keys where she wouldn't find them," he lifted up the rug and retrieved a spare set of keys. "Doc, on board," he waved Dr. Shipps into the Eagle 5-A, then ran for the cockpit and rapidly turned the key in the ignition. "Good to be back behind the wheel," he exhaled in relief.
"Yep, great to have everything back to normal, and great to have you back, Boss," Barf slapped his hand, jumping into the front passenger seat, "She actually made me sit in the back when she drove here!"
"The fiend..." Lone Starr glanced in the rearview mirror, seeing Josephus' joint now lit up and smoke wafting upwards towards the troopers now entering the hangar from above. "Well, now the shoe's on the other hand. Hang on, we're going straight to hyperactive..."
He shifted the Winnebago into drive and immediately punched the button for the hyperjets. The Eagle 5-A-along with Roe's cab, which apparently had the same functions-zapped at warp speed away from Spaceball City, their destination, Hockeygol...
"Ah, Hockeygol, back home away from home," Skroob sighed in delight at Hockeygol approaching Spaceball 6 from the craft's bridge. "Just a few more hours, Lord Helmet, and revenge is finally ours," he told his top enforcer next to him.
"Finally," Helmet nodded, "And nothing can stop us now..."
"Uh, sirs?" Sandurz tentatively entered the bridge and approached them, "I've just got words from Planet Spaceball; we've got bad news."
"Bad news!? What bad news?" Skroob raised an eyebrow.
"Um, really bad, but I'll try and tell it in a good way to ease the sting," Sandurz took a deep breath, then burst into laughter. "The commander...the commander of the planetary garrison just called; Lone Starr and Yogurt were there," he chortled, "They went there to free the mawg and the mole, and they did. They just...they just completely routed all our troops, and they did this too," he fumbled for the button to the video screen and pressed it, bringing up an image of Spaceball troops, all visibly higher than kites, dancing the waltz with each other around Josephus' joint. "And now they're..." Sandurz broke into wilder laughter and slumped over Helmet's shoulder, "...now they're on their way here to Hockeygol to stop us. We're in big trouble now, Lord Helmet, Mr. President!"
He collapsed to the floor, snorting in riotous laughter. "Are you out of your mind, Sandurz!?" furious, Helmet yanked the colonel by the collar back to his feet, "That was terrible!"
"Well sir, I figured that..."
"Sandurz, if it didn't work between Prince John and the Sheriff of Rottingham, why the hell did you think it would work with me!?" Helmet bellowed, raising his Schwartz ring high, which prompted a pale Sandurz to hastily cover his privates. "Oh well, so be it," the villain lowered the ring instead, "A big final showdown was inevitable anyway. All right, send the world to Ringh and Pizza and the rest of our troops: lock down Hockeygol as tight as possible. I want us to have the upper hand here at all times-and nothing must spoil our wedding plans..."