Imran and Slowwhand's World Cup Excellent Adventure

[Imran Siddiqui]

From my old friend Fjorxc's site (to help inspire so we can have others write ):

Fjorxc and Imran's Excellent Adventure

Reismark and Imran's Excellent Adventure

(2 threads out of... what, 10, 15 Excellent Adventure threads?)


And just for fun, and remembrance sake:

The NIMology


(A page with Apolyton's story thread history... recommended reading)

[OzzyKP]

Damn, I did a search on poly and couldn't turn up any of the old excellent adventure threads. Ming, are they gone?

[Lonestar]

*Somewhere in Mississippi, where it is Hot and Humid*

Imran: I don't think this is how you get to Germany.

Slow: Germany's in Europe, right?

Imran: Yes.

Slow:And Europe is EAST of America, right?

Imran: Yes.

Slow: Then we're heading in the right direction!

Imran: I just don't think we're gonna make it in a '78 pickup. I wanted to take a flight from Dee Eff Dubya.

Slow: Let me do the thinking, Yankee. And take that hat off. You can't wear it 'round these parts. Hey, you hungry?

Imran: Su-

*Pickup goes screeching off the interstate, into a Walmart parking lot*

Imran:-re.

Slow: Alright, let's get some grub. You like those little microwaveable bowls of Hormel's Chilli, right?

Imran: Fine. Whatever.

*20 minutes later, the pair stand in line at the register.*

DinoDoc: Fools! You dare interrupt DOOM's lunch break?

Slow: ...what?

Imran: Oh, now you say that.

DinoDoc: DOOM shall now check the UPCs with this insideous...Hey! Hey! The service light is off! Go to the other line!...scanner! Only an intellect such as DOOM's is able to handle yon instrument!

Slow:...so what's the damage?

DinoDoc: DOOM finds the total to be..hold on...damnit...wait a sec guys I need to go get my boss, the cash register froze up.

*DinoDoc walks off*

Slow: I do believe that man has the Gay. *Picks up Brochure on local Civil War Battlefields*

Imran: No! Put it down!

*Poof of purple smoke pours out of the snackbar's cotton candy machine.*

MrFun: Hi Guys! Meet Ricky the Raccoon! *Holds up Raccoon*

Ricky: *harsh whisper* Caaaaallllll the Pooolice.....

MrFun: Oh Ricky! You silly goose. So, I must say Berlin looks a heck of a lot like America!

Slow: We're are in America, you frootloop.

Imran: Well, Mississippi.

MrFun: Well, what's the hold up?

Slow: The crazy man with the metal mask broke the cash register!

MrFun: Hah! That's exactly like the one I use at work. Hold on. *fixes cash register* That's...$25! That's a lot of meat, boys.

Slow:

Imran: Hey MrFun, you wanna come with us? Go back and get your stuff, we'll wait.

MrFun: Sounds Fam-ta-boulous! I'll be back in a Yankee's Doodle!

*MrFun disappears in puff of purple mist*

*Slow turns to Imran*

Slow: To the Norrismobile!

*The two run out, hop in the truck and, wheels screeching, head East*

[Imran Siddiqui]

--

Meanwhile in Germany the festivities are starting up. There is still a few months until the World Cup, but the Germans have been ready for a year. Everyone, however thinks they are still working on the facilities. Instead only a few people realize what is really going on. BeBro, German Minister for Invading France is overseeing the project, which involves... well... you figure it out.

Spiffor is getting suspicious, but he's making fun of the British too much to notice. Unfortunetly it gets him in trouble when the KAISER comes back to haunt Spiffor in his dreams, warning him about the danger. Unfortunately the Kaiser speaks only in German and Spiffor, being too proud, refuses to listen to anyone in his dreams who doesn't speak French (yes, he is a French nationalist when he sleeps).

Meanwhile back in America...

[Frozzy]

Imran: You are now leaving... the United States?

Sloww: Well yeah, I forgot my shotgun and I figured I might need it 'gainst them there pansy tanks they got there.

Imran: Which doesn't explain why we're in Mexico

Sloww: There's a sign sayin' there's coke through these here tunnels and I figured you might be likin' them.

Imran: But I prefer coke and water, and there isn't much water in Mexico.

Sloww: They play that sissy type of football here though. I saw the Cards and Niners play football down here once. Figured it was cheaper to go here than go on a plane and get me gun con fis cated. Besides, soccer's boring and that game was so boring even the Mexicans booed it.

Imran: That was football though. We're going to the World Cup which is in Germany...

Sloww: Don't worry. You see, I got this thing from the store next to the trailer park... it was floating around the tourism section. Something called the Zimmerman Telegram. Anyway, says there's gunna be Germans here, an I figured they might be able to give us some tips...

Imran: Erm... can you let me drive?

[Lonestar]

*Gas Station on Texas-Mexico border.*

Gas Station attendant: Hey! What is that, some kind of Turban?

Imran: It's a Mets cap.

Slow: Told you you couldn't wear it 'round these parts. Let's go.

*The two hop in the Pickup and head North, to Washington where the master of The Free-Market, DanS, plots*


DanS: Excellant! Little do the Eurocommies realise that that American corporations are making the World Cup Merchandise! The Good times are truely rolling. Now, I must deliver my Diabolical package to Berlin! Ted! Get in here!

*Silence*

DanS: Damn it! Ted must be "hitting it" again. *stands up, walks out of office. See's Ted lying on the floor under a crate of now-empty bottles of "Captain Morgan"* "Blast! He's been hitting the bottle again. I'll need another courier. Obviously, as diabolical as this package is, I can't tell them what it is. But wwhere could I find a pair of buffoons trusting enough to take a package to Berlin in exchange of a free airplane ride?

[Imran Siddiqui]

"I wonder where this is going" says the narrator

[Lonestar]

I'll push it along.

[Imran Siddiqui]

Wait until morning for that... perhaps someone else will push a bit (and stop freeloading ).

[Lonestar]

DanS pushed a button, revealing a screen on his office wall. It tracked the 3 dozen or so Weyland-Yutani spy satillites he owned. After entering the search parameters, DanS scowled at the results. "Fez...no, that's just asking for trouble. Civnation...that madman would use the package for his cult. Rah...no, I've had it up to here with Ga'ould. DAVOUT...too French. No, it has to be a set of imbeciles. Ah, here we go. A Texan and a Pakistani who's a lawyer and Mets fan. WY-12, begin tracking. Identify current location."

Computer: Current location of Imran and Slow: Bubscuttle, Arkansas.

"Excellant. Prep my aircraft."


#



"Imran, you missed the turn off about 200 miles back. We're going in one giant Circle."

"If you hadn't insisted in driving to the Atlantic Ocean and then to Mexico we wouldn't be in this problem. We-"

"Plane."

"Yes, we would be flying in a plane. In fact, we'd alre-"

"PLANE!" Slow was pointing out that Gulfstream VI parked in the middle of the back country road. The words "Hadden Aerospace" had been scratched out on the tail. In it's place was "Dan$" in green lettering. There was a man standing at the base of the steps up to the plane. Imran brought the pickup to a stop.

The Man walked up, towering over even Slow.

"Mr. Ess has been waiting for you."

Slow guffawed. "Yeah? Well you tell Mr. Ess...hey! Lemme go!" Slow had been pulled out of the truck, and was not securely held on the man's right shoulder. The Man looked at Imran. "You going to be Difficult?"

"No Sir." Imran followed the man into the jet. A suave, snappily dressed buisnessman was sitting at a table. "Thank you Michael." Slow fell onto the floor of the plane with a thump.

"Gentlemen, I have a problem. As it happens, so do you. My Father, Hamilton Rest His Soul, use to say 'If you have a problem, you have a problem. If you have more than one you might solve the problems with the others. I can help you get to Berlin. Hell, I'll even yet you use my corporate jet. All you have to do is deliever a package for me."

"Why couldn't you have done that yourself?" Imran was suspicious.

"They told me you were a smart one." Mr. Ess smiled. "I'm sure I don't have to explain to you that Executives are not couriers. It simply isn't done."

"Ah, of course." Imran was nodding. "But us going to Berlin is part of the job. What's the payment?"

"A true capitalist. Well, I won't insult you by offering money." Mr. Ess reached into his coat jacket and pulled out a large envelope. "Half now,the second half when you complete your trip." Imran opened it. His eyes grew wide.

"Who are you?"

"Mr. Ess. When you get to Berlin, you must deliver it to an associate on mine. He is simply known as...Winston. Address is on the package, but you are not to open it. Think you can handle it?"

"Yes sir!"

"Good...and watch out for the Serb, and the Finn. They are out for it as well. Good luck, Gentlemen. The Pilot will have you in Berlin within 8 hours." And with that, Mr. Ess stood up, and left the plane. The engines powered up and within minutes there were airborne. Hands shaking, he re-opened the envelope, looking at the first page of the manuscript.

Harry Potter Seven: Final Draft.

[Lonestar]

Originally posted by Imran Siddiqui
Wait until morning for that... perhaps someone else will push a bit (and stop freeloading ).

Too late.

[Imran Siddiqui]

That's ok, I just won't read it until the morning then .

[Frozzy]

The plane reached an altitude of 10,000 feet. Imran was busy kicking back with a crystal glass of Coke Noir, while Sloww picked his toes.

Two hours or so passed, and the pilot spoke over the speaker

Pilot: Okay Gentlemen, if you look out of your window, you should be able to see Berlin

Sloww: Wow, Berlin sure does look small from up here

Imran: I wonder if I could steal some of this Coke Noir for the road... it sure does appeal to my abject lack of taste. Hang on, didn't Dan say it would take eight hours to reach Berlin?

Sloww: I dunno, but the guy says it's Berlin and there ain't no place outside the USA that's important. Hey, I wonder if Adolf and the Kaiser are here today

Imran: Ingrate...

Pilot: Down we go fellas... should be about 10 mins

And so began the descent down to Berlin airport... *THUD*

Imran: I think we're here

Pilot: Ok, the steps off the plane are to the right, hope you guys have a nice day

So, our intreped adventurers step off the plane onto the tarmac at Berlin airport.

Sloww: Hey, do them krauts have a customs thing 'round these parts?

Imran: Um.. Sloww...

*points to a sign saying "Welcome to Berlin, North Dakota"*

Sloww: Hey, does they play soccer in North Dakota?

Imran: We're still in the US dumbass... HEY! PILOT! YOU DROPPED US OFF AT THE WRONG....

It was too late. The jet was already halfway down the runway on its return leg.

[BeBMan]

Great stories

[Playful]

Originally posted by Kalius
The plane reached an altitude of 10,000 feet. Imran was busy kicking back with a crystal glass of Coke Noir, while Sloww picked his toes.