Apolyton Wars - A new story adventure

[Lawrence of Arabia]

HAHAHAHHHHHHAAA I hope fez is reading THIS>

[Jules]

Several hours later, the sandstorm has died down quite a bit. DR and JP are heading into the more seedy part of New Dallas, the Spacer's District. Each is wearing an ordinary brown cloak with a hood loosely covering his head so as not to attract any unwanted attention (or sexual advances for that matter ) A cadre of security guards also similarly attired accompany them, forming a loose perimeter around the two. Finally they arrive at their destination, Docking Bay 94. JP goes in first, followed by DR, with the security guards taking up the rear. An oddly-shaped, quite unfashionably-looking starship towers before them...

JP: (pulling back his hood) What a piece of junk!

Carlo: (from inside the ship) Who's there?! Whaddaya want?!

DR: (likewise pulling back his hood, wearing a kickass pair of sunglasses) Carlo, my boy, it's all right. Come on out.

Carlo peers out cautiously from atop the boarding ramp, blaster rifle at the ready.

Carlo: (warily) You aren't a bunch of misguided leftists, are you? I really hate those bastards! They're in love with Sadman Hussein you know.

DR: (laughing) Hell no! I'm your wealthy patron, DR. Remember me, the guy you owe a sh*tload of money to?

Carlo: (relaxing a bit, slowly walks down the ramp) Oh, yeah. Uhm...look...the thing is...I don't have your money right now. I spent it all on gay porno DVDs. I swear I'll get the money somehow...even if I have to sell my body for it.

DR: (chuckles) Carlo, my boy! No need to get extreme here. I know you're good for it. I just have a little mission for ya.

Carlo: (quite relieved) Oh, wow, that's great! Thanks a bunch. By the way, what do you think of my ship? I call her the "Millennium Pinochet." She'll get point five past flaming-speed. Tubee and I here have made some special modifications. Tubee? Come down here and say "hello."

Tube-acca: ACK!

DR: (reaches his arm out to shake hands) How d'ya do?

Tube-acca: (ignoring DR's outstretched arm) ACK!

JP: (nervous wave) Hi there!

Tube-acca: (turns toward JP) AAAAACK!!!!

DR: (to Carlo) Is that all he says?

Carlo: Pretty much, yeah. Ever since he and his planet were enslaved by Grand Admiral Gudunov's "Gaylactic Storm Cadets." Must've traumatized him pretty bad. I took pity on him and, well, he's hung around me ever since.

Tube-acca: (nods head mournfully) Ack!

Carlo: So what's the mission?

DR: Oh, yeah, that. Right. JP, the script. (JP pulls out his PDA and hands it to DR)

DR: (scanning) Ok, if my intelligence is correct, you're about to be visited by an angry young man named Albert Speerwalker. Some kind of half-crazed urban ghetto philospher, I dunno. With him will be an equally mad sage named obiwan18 kenobi, claiming some kind of disturbance in...the Force? God, this is worse than a George Lucas flick! Two robots...one programmed in Linux, can't understand anything it says. And they'll be worried about a certain Princess BlackWidow, want you to take 'em to some kind of Resistance HQ, thwart the Empire's plans and all that. (hands the PDA back to JP)

Anyway, what I want you to do is pretend to go along with the whole thing. Once you get to this rebel base thing, spread some money around, ask questions, find out all you can. Then report back to me. Understood?

Carlo: (scratches head) I guess so. I suppose I can handle that.

DR: (puts his arm around Carlo's shoulder) Good...good. And remember, if you screw up, I'll be sending the bounty hunters your way. I don't think you're gonna like that.

Carlo: (angrily pulls away from DR) Let 'em come! They're all a bunch of commie leftists anyway! They can go straight to hell!

DR: (gently) Now now, Gian, you're BAMing again.

Carlo: Yes, I promise I'll never do that again. I really mean it this time. I just have strong emotions about these things.

DR: (chuckles) Don't we all? (motions to one of his guards, who pulls out a metallic briefcase and opens it) And just to make it all worth your while, I've added a bonus...gay porno DVDs!

Carlo: (astonished) Woah, neato! I don't have any of these yet. And do I get a cabana bondage boy too?

DR: (grins) Sure, whatever you need. My treat.

Carlo: (taking the briefcase) Then I'll do it! (shakes DR's hand forcefully)

DR: I knew you'd see it my way. (waves to Tube-acca) Nice meetin' ya, Mr. Tubee!

Tube-acca: (in a tone that sounds curiously like, "Hey! Please take me away from this crazy Carlo guy! PLEASE!!!") ACK!

(freeze-frame of DR's big, malevolent smile; sinister transition music cues up in the background)

[Imran Siddiqui]

I used to be funnier in my youth... and more patient to write a story too. What ever happened? Guess I got old. All I have left to look forward to is walking on a cane and drooling into my keyboard while posting on this hunk-a-jun -- wha? Oh yah, story.

The entire screen flashed and shifted and wobbled a bit as well, just to get some more props to capture that Special Effects Oscar we all want so much, because lord knows we won't be winning anything else. In the viewscreen (or tv, for the unimaginative) there appeared a planet.

It was green, well sort of.

It was also big, kinda.

And the people there were very indicisive, maybe.

But on this planet lived a man in a nice little house. He was always kind to people and loved to make pottery. He also was the biggest serial killer in the known Gaylaxy. He was an assassin who would kill straight men for the Starchild. He was good at his job and loved to do it. For this, he was payed in little boys, which fit in with his Catholic religion, who after realizing priests were buggering boys decided it wasn't worth the effort to stop the practice and instead legalized it.

Pretty soon, of course, the number of Catholics in the world dropped to 304, which coincidentally were the number of priests left in the world that weren't shot by angry parents.

Where was I? Oh yea, the ASSassin. He was refered to by his close friends as Billy, but to all others he was feared as Redjon!! How he got this name remains a question that has never really been solved, but some believe that it involves a cow, a gecko, and tooo much vasoline.

He had a job. He was to go after the Hetero Jedi, led by one, Civnation, who was a small green blob that looked as if he'd been blown out of the nose of a large elephant (or whatever your species call them).

[Jules]

Oh, yeah, I forgot to include something about Fez's crush on red_jon in my dialogue.

[Skanky Burns]

Very good thread so far.

I haven't been mentioned yet. Considering the topic though, thats probably a good thing.

[Az]

good stuff.

[Boris Godunov]

Imran, dammit, read the opening...Red_jon has already been used!

[Az]

Btw, IMO, Tube-acca should always have a TUBE'o'lube handy.

[Jules]

Meanwhile, in a remote corner of the Gaylaxy, yet another subplot is unfolding. Bounty hunter Che-ga Fett is seething, seething over the recent demise of the industrialized system and the rise of the New Gaylactic Order. "How are ya supposed to make the Revolution when there aren't any proletariat to make it with," Che exclaims, but taking care to check dials, switches, readouts, and other gizmos as his sickle-shaped "Trotsky I" whizzes through space.

Yes, times had been tough since the disbanding of his organization, "The Communist People's Popular Front." (Or was it "The Popular People's Communist Front?" He could never keep those straight.) Making a living as one of the bounty hunter dregs of the Gaylaxy was quite undignified for a great Marxist organizer such as himself. But Che had a plan, a plan and the evidence to back it up.

Putting Trotsky I on autopilot, Che switched on his onboard data retrieval unit (ODRU for short) and called up the necessary files: a number of compromising photos involving the Imperial Darth Redfern and a certain Gorillean named Gian Carlo. "Oh, they'll pay all right. By Marx's beard are they gonna pay!" Then perhaps the Gaylaxy (make that Galaxy) will return to the way it was, the way it SHOULD be...with rallies and protests and mass demonstrations. "God, it's gonna be great!"

But enough of that for now. They'll be plenty of time for petty blackmail schemes later. Right now Che had a job to do: to strike a terrible blow against the very heart of capitalism itself. Che switched off the lewd photos of Redfern and Carlo and called up a very different photo on the viewscreen. The grinning face of the "Prodigal Shyster" himself, "Ol' Greedy" to others, the infamous Texas oilman D.R. appears. "Oh, you're definitely going down, beeyatch!" Che smacks down on the viewscreen. Suddenly the nav-computer beeps frantically, indicating that the ship is fast approaching the gravity well of fubutooine...
------------------------------------------------------------------------

Uh, oh! Somebody's out to kill D.R.! Will they finally finish the job this time? Or will Ol' D.R. get out of yet another tight spot? These questions and more will be answered on the next episode of Dallas the Humorous Gen--...err...Apolyton Wars. Yeah, that's it!

*cue theme music; cue aerial shot of the Mansion; roll credits*

[CapitanGarlic]

Good stuff so far...but who all's in the rebellion? I've been speed-reading, so if I missed it, then damn. It seems that the Empire has been covered extensively, though...

Keep it up!

[Starchild]

Meanwhile, in the massive yet cosy inner sanctum of President Starchild, the fate of the Gaylaxy was being decided.

"What should be the trendy drink of this year, iced coffee or exotic ethnic tea?" President Starchild wondered outloud while trying to figure out what cloak to wear. His three rent-a-minions, Taurus, Siro, and Eli, stood humbly nearby.

"In my most useless and insignificant opinion glorious one, I do quite like iced coffee," Siro offered cautiously.

"Yes, oh most far seeing and trendy one, I do agree," Eli said.

"I'm thinking ethnic tea," President Starchild said as he activated a holographic mirror and started trying on Martian-Armani shirts.

"What a great and wise idea most perfectly stylish one! Exactly what we thought. Forgive and forget our prior and misguided judgements," the three servants said, toadying in unison.

Starchild turned to look at them, "Don't you guys wonder if I get tired of the constant toadying and fearful worship of my being?"

"Um...." the three minions looked at each other. Siro was visibly sweating. "No?" Taurus offered.

"Damn right! Keep it up. Anyway, I think it's about time to begin the construction of the new superweapon."

"But most perfectly moisturised yet never greasy one," Taurus said, "The Pride Star hasn't even been unleashed on the Gaylaxy yet."

"The Pride Star is like so last year. Gotta keep up with the neighbours and all that."

"Forgive my treacherous and most likely ill informed tongue but, um, don't you run the entire Gala...err, Gaylaxy? We don't have any neighbours," Eli said.

"Even better!" Starchild said, throwing on a jumper that was worth more than some solar systems, "I can be a trend setter! Yes, the Pride Star II will be bigger, better, and, like, so incredibly cool."

"What about the current Pride Star, most..um...good one?" Taurus asked.

"What? Oh, that one can just continue doing whatever it does until, you know, the next one is built. I mean, it's not like I'm in a hurry to get Bori Wori back anytime soon. Pfff. 'I hog the sheets'. Man's bordering on insane. Sigh, all my clothes are so last season. Kill the designers and then clone them. Maybe a new perspective is needed. Oh, be dears and pack all these things into boxes and burn them. Ta!" President Starchild said with many hand gestures as he left the room.

Siro, Taurus, and Eli were left looking at a collection of clothes so vast that it threatened to collapse into a small star. They decided right then and there to undertake a secret pact that could get them killed, if not worse. They would confront President Starchild and...
....
....
....demand an extra seven cents an hour for their jobs as rent-a-minions.

Or kill the bastard, whatever seemed easier.

[Q Classic]

IN THE SECRET UNDERGROUND space laboratory submarine base in space, the designer of the first Pride Star, Q Xux 3 meditated in a sensory deprivation enhancement chamber, seeking answers to a question that had eluded this devlishly ravishing and strappingly handsome man.

"Solaris? mm... yes, yes... but does it work? maybe... VMS?"

He was, of course, deciding what would be the basis of the Solar Smasher's primary OS.

"The Empire, naturally, likes fruity operating systems, which leads me to believe that Apples would be in order. But their bright tangerine color scheme clashes with the interior of the main computer core, which must be an brilliant and clean titanium white. Oh, what to do, what to do..."

Stepping out of his sensory deprivation enhancement chamber, Q Xux 3 dressed langorously, attended by numerous ravishingly voluptuous vixens and curvaceous females. He paid them little heed, of course, for he had eyes for one and one only: a secret project of his, which he had funded by "cost overruns" during the construction of the last Pride Star... The Solar Smasher, whose single projectile could instantly convert an entire sector into a baccanaliac festival, filled with promiscuity, alcohol, more promiscuity, and more alcohol.

"A message for you, my beloved Q Xux 3," a particularly attractive bronze skinned thong-clad platinum-haired girl whispered, throatily. "I think it's from Command. They want you to design the Pride Star II."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

"Interesting. Is that so?"

"Yes."

"Really. Is that so?"

"Yes."

"What happened to my last Pride Star?"

"I do not know, master."

"Mm. I like it when you feed me grapes, dear wench."

And with that, Q Xux 3 began the process of desiging a new Pride Star, a bigger, better, more powerful and cooler Pride Star. Perhaps one with a special docking port for the Solar Smasher, as well. He would enjoy docking. In. Out. In. Out.

[Jules]

From within the deepest, innermost chambers of Starcastle Franit, Datajack the Sage fondly recalled the time he "spoiled" his young apprentice, obiwan18 kenobi. It was a mystical encounter, full of wide-eyed innocence or whatever. He then became enraged at remembering how obiwan18 later refused conversion to the Dark Side of the Phallus...err, I mean, the Force (yeah, that's it, the Force )....

Suddenly, filming at Apolyton Studios is interrupted when a mob of militant feminists led by Gloria Alldread swarm over the set to protest the repeated references to the male genitalia in the story. (Quote, "Down with sexism! Down with forcible penetration! All men are lecherous swine!" - feminist chants)

Datajack is shocked, and retorts that he finds nothing wrong whatsoever with forcible penetration. The feminists are not amused and start chasing poor Franit around the studio lot, armed with rusty pitchforks and dirty knives. At any rate they've left the set, so the story can continue....

[monolith94]

I should definitely be portrayed as the character "mono solo"

[Jules]

Originally posted by monolith94
I should definitely be portrayed as the character "mono solo"

I think I already gave Fez the part of Han Solo.