Mighty Viking was bored. It had been a month since he had gotten back from New York City after spraining his ankle. After pondering for a few minutes, he decided to complete the journey to the center of the Earth that his former associate Liam Johnstone had died attempting. Mighty Viking had taken the credit for the former sysop's death, and had consequentially gotten many accolades and cheers for the deed.
After exhaustive searching, Viking found Liam's notes in a notebook titled "notes" and went out to find companions for his journey. The first place he went to, always the first place, was Immortal Goose's house. Knocking on the door, he was besieged by a mass of living cute. (No, not Goose, you morons, his dog!)
Goose came to the door. "Hey Vike-O, what you up to today?"
"I'm going to accomplish the deed that my former associate and former sysop for Weasel Palace was too lazy to do. I'm going to the center of the Earth. Wanna come?"
"Sure, I gotta look at the sports and leave a note for my parents first." he said, opening the door and letting Mighty Viking in.
Finishing the sports, he moved into the kitchen and wrote on a piece of paper:"GONE CENTER OF EARTH. MIGHTY VIKING. -GOOSE" and said, "Let's roll."
Viking nodded in agreement, and the two quickly headed for the car. As they started away from the sidewalk, clipping a freak on the way onto the street then completing the mayhem by broadsiding some dawdling old lady and leaving her to die! DIE! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! DDD II IIIE EEE!
Err...anyways. As they started off towards Val Mart, blinded by the flaming pink wipers.
"Hey, was that Nemesis?" Goose asked.
"No, it was someone else with pink wipers and a purple steering wheel, OF COURSE IT WAS NEMESIS YOU FOOL!" Viking bellowed, slapping Goose repeatedly in the shoulder all the while.
"Well, maybe we should tail him back to his place and recruit him for our mission." Goose suggested. Viking took some time to ponder this, carressing his chin with a hand, and using the other hand to lift his beverage, thus causing the car to fly across two lanes of traffic out of control and nail two-thirds of a kindergarten class on their way back from figure skating. The flecks of snow were replaced with blood. Glistening red BLOOD. All over their SCREAMING LITTLE BODIES! AHAHA!
"Okay, we'll go after him." Viking concurred, and they promptly took off down the street.
With that settled, they quickly caught up to Nemesis(Code name : The anti-accelerator). They then tailed him the entire way home.
"Hey there Nemmyoopilopolous." Viking said robustly as he smacked Nem on the shoulder in greeting.
"Poooooog!" was Nem's reply as the air was expelled from his lungs. (Nem's other code name : Grunt).
"Ummm... yeah. Anyways, can we come in? We have a proposition for you." Goose proposed, proposing the proposition properly the the property-live-in-guy.
"Well, I guess," Nem conceded, and soon the three were within the domicile belonging to his family. Goose and Nem hurled their shoes off of their feet and were at the top of the stairs in a flash. Slowed by his injury, Viking remained on the landing just a little bit too long.
"Hey, guys, wait AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" Vike shrieked as the streak of sweater wool was upon him, sending him flying into the coatrack.
"Sorry, Mighty, my whites are white, GOTTA GO!" Nem's mom bellowed as she repeatedly kicked him in the ribs, then was...gone.
"Ouch, Geez, your mom's hyper today, Nem." Viking remarked as he rose up and climbed the stairs, just in time to see the father of Nem rise from within the steaming carcass of a deer.
"Hey there boys, want some venison?" he asked through a grinning smile of encrusted blood. "Lookee here, I've saved the spleen for you!" he remarked, holding up a jiggling purplish orb.
"Uhhh...thanks dad...but...I think we'll pass. We'll find something a little more...dead to eat." Nem remarked, Viking quickly beginning to rifle through the kitchen cupboards in search of snacks.
"Whattya mean, this thing is dead! It's just not cooked!" His dad rebuked. At that exact moment, with much baying and head-shaking, the half-eaten animal rose up and ran through the window. Halfway down the street, the father's screams of "WOAH BOY!" could still be heard reverberating through the air.
"Uhh, Nem, I don't think your parents like me too much." Viking quipped, as he opened the previously unopened three-pound bag of raisins in the cupboard. Holding his ribs, he limped to the table and started consuming the dried fruit.
"Why's that MV?" Nemesis demanded, opening that last can of Coke in the house.
"Well, when I was down on the landing..." Vike said, and was interrupted by the sound of Mrs. Esis giving him the flying elbow to the sternum.
"Ouch, that hurt, Nememom." Viking said, as Nem's mother swung a rolling-pin near his head, nearly missing. When she got the pizza-cutter out, Vike got the rock out of there.
As the rest of the troupe danced out of the house on their way to the armoured SunBird, Goose was shaking his head. "Viking has a sprained ankle. Your wrist is no excuse for not going with us."
"Well, I didn't get to write any of this story, so I'm not going along. Besides, I have to work today, so if you find yourselves in Millet, come give me a shout. It's SO boring, and I only have my thieving sister to keep me company. I..I'll uhh.. give you free pizza, just COME FOR GOD'S SAKE!"
"Maybe," Goose responded, putting on his "cool face".
So they made their way to Edmonton to look for more recruits, heading for Steel Dragon's house. Once they got to the block where Dragon lived, they heard the Headstones singing their version of "Tweeter and the Monkey Man." They never looked back.
Arriving in St. Albert, at Ifrit's house, the sight of the last meet, they saw Ifrit and Demona sitting on the front lawn, Ifrit painting Demona's toenails. They were listening to Ifrit's eighth grade attempts at musical art. Not too bad, but he needed to go through puberty first. Ifrit wanted to go, but Demona threatened to put him in the hospital if he did, so he wasn't allowed. Ifrit did, however, let them know that the rest of them were in the backyard, and we could go see if they wanted to go, though.
Ifrit wasn't lying. The rest of the people from the meet, except for Cyberbob, and the twins were in the backyard, oh, and Nem, discussing the theological implications of "The Life of Brian."
"No, it wasn't making fun of the whole Christ happenstance, it was making fun of religion and blind FAITH!" Legion bellowed, emphasizing his point with hand-gestures. Unfortunately, with his "faith" gesture, he caught Renni right between the antlers. She was out before she hit the ground.
"Oops....ummm...LOOK! OVER THERE, IT'S...THE BIRTH OF JESUS CHRIST!!!" Legion bellowed. With everyone else looking away, he began slapping Renni in an attempt to revive her. It didn't work.
"Stupid oaf! That won't work! Try this!" Viking snarled as he opened up a 2 litre box of ice cream and dumped it on her head. She was up with a start.
"I'm awake again! Thank you Mighty!" she exclaimed.
"Yes...awake and...covered in ...vanilla...mmmmm..."Goose commented as he dipped a finger in the general vicinity of her forehead. After they cleaned her off, the conversation moved on to a spirited debate between Renni and Goose.
"Bon Jovi rule!"
"They suck!"
"Rule!"
"SUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!" This went on and on for quite a long period of time, during which the rest of the group travelled to Ifrit's basement and watched 3 Monty Python flicks, returning from their subterranean hovel just in time to hear the argument end.
"So, do any of you wish to accompany us to the center of the Earth?" Viking asked the group.
"Sorry, I have to...ummm...errr...do...stuff." Vasques reasoned his way out of it.
"YEAH! Me too! What a coincidence!" Vanquished agreed, and the two were suddenly... not there.
"I have to go watch my entire video library of Star Trek episodes." was Mirror's excuse, and she dragged Legion with her.
Everyone else found a variety of other excuses ranging from "I must kill a man in Tuscaloosa" to "I have to feed cheese to the blind" However they did supply Vike and Goose with many items to help them achieve their goal.
"Well, that was pretty much a bust." Viking said.
"At least I have excuses to get out of work if I have to" Goose optimisticized. "Where are we off to?"
"Well, according to Liam's notes, there is a hole that will get us started in Arizona somewhere, but we still have to get our supplies. TO VAL-MART!"
Once they got to Val-mart, Viking realized that he needed gas, and had only enought to go to....Millet! He bought the supplies, trading witty quips with the lady behind the counter who was shooting him with darts from a blow-gun. They went to Millet.
"Thank you for coming. See you again?" Mr. Esis asked, the blood having been previously washed from his mouth, from behind the counter. "Hi, Goose, Viking. Want some pizza? It's only three days old...Here, it's on the house. Let me know if it's a little stale."
Goose dug in, and Viking was just about to, when Goose screamed, "OW! Well, I was planning on getting some dental-work anyway, thanks for the incentive, Mr. Esis. Is Nem here?"
"Yeah, he's in the bathroom. He'll be right here."
While they were there, Viking looked around the shelves, and, seeing they were half-empty, commented, "Hey, you guys must be doing good business."
"Naah, I have a thief working from the inside. I lucked out, though, Jenesis got me a security camera for free."
Goose looked up at the camera, and decided not to tell Mr. Esis that, hanging from the ceiling, was a cardboard cut-out of a camera. He also decided not to inform Clivesis that his daughter was a crook.
"Where now, Vikely?" Goose inquired, once they got back in the car, sick of waiting for Nem to get out of the dumper. Musta been a big log.
"Now, we have the supplies, we have the gas, we have... sore ribs, we're on our way to... ARIZONA!"
They headed down the highway, singing songs of age-old cartoon shows, pointing and grinning at attractive females on the road, converting Highway 2 to "Testosterone Alley". It seemed like they had driven forever, when suddenly they both became very hungry. They pulled into Wetaskiwin.
Are you SURE we ate everything already?" Viking asked Goose.
"Yesh. We did jush nowwwwww." Goose managed to speak around a mouthful of trout, spitting small bits of the fish all over the dash.
Quickly, they both leapt out of the car through the windows Dukes of Hazzard style.
Unfortunately, not being Duke boys, they were untrained in this method of leaving the vehicle. Goose got halfway out before the seatbelt he was holding like a rapelling rope gave way and he fell to the pavement below. Seeing his friend fail this way, Viking went for the quick approach, and leapt out the window. The glass shattered, and although cut and bloody, he did manage to get out of the car.
"Ha! I did it, ya wimp!." Viking laughed at Goose, pointing and laughing, and inadvertently spattering blood in some guy's coffee. "Oh, I am sorry man."
"FUCK! GO GO GO GO GO GO GO GO..." the weird bald guy yelled over and over, not seeming to care that the two had entered the store.
"Hey there boys, don't be stealing anything now," the 'friendly' counter person suggested as she cocked a .45.
"We won't ma'am..." Viking was interrupted as the bald man slammed himself into the window, and stood there, splayed out like some sort of freakish screaming herring. Soon he had been taken away by men in white coats to enjoy "pennywinkles and moon piiieeesss." Well, maybe not, but it's something like that.
They bought three tonnes of soup and left, under the watchful eye, and careful aim, of the clerk.
"I can't believe you got...SOUP!" Goose exclaimed as they made their way to just outside of Calgary. He had been saying the same thing for the past two hours, as Viking drove on in silence.
Finally, Vike screamed at the top of his lungs "Flames HERE WE COME! I GOT SOUP. IIIIIIIIII GOOOOOOOOOOOOTTTTTT SOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUP. The only reason I got soup was because it is the only thing that I know you can't eat in the time it takes to get to Wetaskiwin. I like to consume food as well. THREEEEEE TOOOOOONNNNEEEEEES OF SOOoOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUPPPPPP!"
Goose was confused. "Why did you scream soup with one little o in that last paragraph?"
Viking explained it slowly, as one would to a three year old, "Well," exaggerating the word, "I diiidn't want to haaaave to go baaaaaaaaaaack three spaaaaaaaaces to chaaaaaange it after I foooouuuuund it to be wrong."
"Oh."
They entered the 'Real City of Champions' at around dinner time, and, not wanting to waste the three tonnes of lemon-peel soup, they decided to hit a McDonalds. >SMMMMMACK< They made a run for the border. (THE US BORDER, YOU MORON, NOT TACO BELL(TM))
They bought enough food to last all the way to the border, deciding not to stop in Calgary. Them Calgarians can smell an Edmontonian area resident at distances of 50 feet, and they is MEAN little buggers. oh, wait...no...that's badgers. But despite that, they still decided to keep going.
So, where the Hell are we?" Goose asked as he polished off his 15th Big Mac.
"Customs checkpoint." Viking responded as he pulled up to the checkpoint. Just then, Goose decided to do something he thought would amuse the border guards.
"HEY VIKING, STASH THE CONTRABAND!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. The two of them were promptly escorted to the customs building to enjoy pennywinkles and moon pies. Meanwhile, the SunBird was being stripped to the frame.
"Okay boys, we found nothing illegal, though we were more than a little concerned by the soup in the spacious trunk. Are you guys done with your moon pies? My wife baked them herself.
"Yeah," Goose responded, "but the pennywinkles needed a little salt."
"Yeah...well, the good news is we found no bad stuff at all in your car. The bad news is, what is left can no longer be labelled a car." the customs guy told the two lads. Viking promptly spat moon pie all over the floor and began asking for fights while Goose continued to enjoy the penniwinkles.
"Calm down, lad. We have a replacement vehicle for you. I hope it meets your needs." the guy told Viking, then led the two of them out back. Sitting there was a shiny new Sonoma Syclone.
"OH MY GOD IT'S GODLY!" Viking yelled and ran over to the truck. The customs man was not amused.
"Get your moon pie covered hands off my truck! The vehicle you guys get is sitting right next to you!"
Sitting beside the Sonoma was...a bright chartreuse Chevette.
"OH MY GOD, IT'S EVIL!" Viking spazzed as he went into convulsions. Goose walked up and calmed him down, then made the mistake of leaning on the back of the car, sending it rolling into the ditch.
"Yeah, it's a little bit on the light side, boys. You guys should have no problem lifting it out of there." Then the customs guy was gone.
"DAMN CAR!" Goose yelled. As soon as he did, for no reason at all, it rolled over on its hood.
Finally, the two decided there was no choice but to lift it out. They each picked it up with one hand, and with a flick of their communal wrists, sent it flying over the customs building and into a thicket of trees. After they freed it from here.. and the ditch again, and the other side of the road, transferred the soup and other equipment, and started rolling.
"So, how does it handle? Why don't we start moving?" Goose asked.
"I don't know! Dammit the accelerator is on the floor!" Viking yelled back. Apparently, the three tonnes of soup were too much for the 2 cylinder engine of the Chevette. They threw out 2 tonnes. Somehow they would have to ration themselves.
After this set of escapades, and Goose realizing that penniwinkles were plastic toys, they were finally on their way at the top speed of 45 miles per hour. Even cyclists were passing them...albeit on downhill grades, but passing them nonetheless!
"Thank God for those tailwinds" Viking exclaimed, as all of a sudden, the car slowed to 28. Very soon after, a small child blew by on a Big Wheel. "I think that kid was on steroids."
"I CANNOT TAKE THIS ANYMORE! WE NEED BETTER WHEELS!" Goose shrieked like a woman. No...wait...it was a woman shrieking as she went over the hood. Goose just yelled.
"I agree. Let's stop in there." Viking suggested, pointing to Billy Bob's House of Budget Motors...We sell fish tackle!
As soon as they hit the lot, Billy Bob himself came slobbering out to meet them, some sickly-looking Spanish guy and a chia pet behind him.
"How can I help ya, boys?" Billy Bob asked in his Big, Blubbery voice.
"We'd like to sell this...`car'" Viking told him, doing the finger quotey thing before and after the word car. Goose went into hysterics and had to be medicated.
"I buy car." the Spanish guy said, for some unknown reason making his chia pet nod in agreement.
"Okay, well, she gets real far on a tank of gas."
"And what about speed? I need speed man!"
"Oh yeah... plenty of 'speed to spare'." Viking said, yet again doing the quotey thing. Goose had to be rendered unconscious by a hit across the back of the head with the chia pet. Then, out of earshot, Vike finished the sentence..."...maybe for a freakin' camel."
"What was that you were saying over there, Mr. Chevy man?" Chia boy asked.
"Oh...Just commenting on your awesome...chia stroke." Vike covered up.
"Me like you LAUGHING MAN. Me buy your car for 10 thousand of your American dollars."
"Well, actually, I'm from Canada."
"Oh, well then, this man I have beaten with the chia must be Nanook, your guide out of the frozen wasteland, no?"
"Yes."
"No?"
"Yes. Now, do you want the 'car'" Viking asked him. The quotey things happened again, and Goose had to be held from blowing his brains out.
"Yes! Me want car very much! Need to run from American policia!" Chia man yelled, plunked 10 grand into Viking's hand, then raced away in the Chevette. He was caught 50 feet down the road by an officer on bicycle.
"Well then, I guess you boys are going to be needing some wheels!" Billy Bob bellowed, laughing and holding his 'bowl full of jelly'.
"Sure. Whatcha got for us?" Goose asked.
"Well..." Billy Bob spoke through a mouthful of gelatinous desert, "I gots one of them Sonoma Sycloners right over here."
"OH MY GOD! IT'S HOLY!" yelled Viking as he once more flew into hysterics.
"It's yours, boys, for only 25 thousand American dollars." Viking promptly bashed his head into the cargo box and lay prone for awhile.
"We HAVE to come UP with the MONEY GOOSE!" He yelled to his compadre, who tried to talk down Billy Bob's price with little success. So, deciding some chicanery would be needed, he promptly beat the living tar out of the fat bastard. Plucking the keys from the fallen man's hand, and taking some jello for the road, Goose tossed the keys to a now standing Viking, and the two drove off in what would heretofore be known as the "chicane-mobile".
"Damn!" Viking cursed.
"What's the matter, Mighty?" Goose asked, concerned for the safety air bag in the passenger side. He had been attacked three times since Seattle.
"I forgot the soup in the Chevette. And there's no way we can get back into that city without being unchicanered by big fat Billy Bob ripoff, and his gang of Spanish chia-warriors. By the way, that was some display of chicanery, you really fooled the daylights out of him."
"Okay, so I decided that a little physical chicanery was needed."
"I suppose we can just get some more eaters somewhere else. Don't forget, we still got ten grand for foodies. Let's head'er Goosies, and get to the centeries of the Earthy." <For that sentence, Liam Johnstone has just been awarded the Full-House award in a drama story, presented by Bob Saget and that Dave guy. Unfortunately, things got bloody when the Olsen twins tried to do a version of "We are the Champions" originally done by Queen. the assailant was said to be a guy named 'Sean'<said in quotey things> and ther were no Full-House survivors. It is said that John Stamos took his own life after his head was shaven by the enraged recently laid off worker of a Nisku seed-coating plant. 'Sean'<said in quotey things> was presented Time's "Man of the Year"<not said in quotey things> for the deed, and was awarded fourteen thousand dollars from the GTVA<Good TV Association> for getting rid of both the Olsen Twins, and the host of "America's 'Funniest' <said in quotey things> Home Videos>
"Well then, let's go get us some chow at the next place we see," Goose suggested, and Viking concurred. For the next 10 kilometres, they scanned the roadside, when finally, a building appeared in the distance. They pulled in and only after asking about food did they notice what the building was they had entered. The sign read "US Gov't Toxin Test Lab." They quickly left, and finally found a food place<labelled "restaurant" for those in the know> after going through "Big Jim's Semen Centre", "Franks' House of Stinky Reptiles", ad "Irma's Home for those Obsessed with the Chia".
"All right! Let's eat!" yelled Viking. The truck was barely parked, when the two were in a booth, checking out the menus, and cleaning bits of glass out of their hair.
"Damn windows!" Goose exclaimed as he looked over the menu, but was beaten to the punch by a waitress.
"Do you need more time?" she asked.
"DAMN IT YES WE DO! WE'RE BARELY PARKED! GEEZ LADY..." He then looked up from the menu to "Auntie M's Nairobi Delicacy House" to see that the waitress was a babe. He then continued stammering for about 20 seconds, before she deciphered what he was trying to say.
"Geez, Goose, get a grip!"
"Flaaaaa Gooootyyyuuuuuuu."
"Goose, do I look like an attractive 18 or 19 year old blonde woman?"
Goose pondered this for a few moments, before answering with his usual "I dunno", but had appeared to have recovered. Then, the waitress came back.
"Have you decided?" she asked. Viking leapt in and answered first, giving Goose time to recover his faculties. Then it was Goose's turn.
"Yes, my dear, I will have bacon. LOTS of bacon. Strips as long as those incredibly gorgeous legs...umm...on that table. That's a fine table! And some breast."
The waitress looked ready to slap Goose, who soon cleared that up in the following fashion..."NO! I mean CHICKEN breast! Um...not that yours are anything bad...but...ummm..well...oh God, just bring me a broiled bird of some kind and LEAVE ME!"
"Handled like a true gentleman, Goose. Why didn't you ask her for some condom-mints? That would have been good." <for that last statement, Liam Johnstone has just been awarded the "tasteless joke of the year" award, to be presented by those lovely ladies of "the mommies". Unfortunately, the show turned into a bloodbath when the 'funny ladies' <said in quotey things> tried their 'equal opportunity' <said in quotey things> brand of humour. A man from the Sexist Convention for Males<also known as the "Hair club for men"> pulled out a gun and started shooting the ladies full of holes. The man, identified only as "the dice man" was quoted as saying "Those b_____s just made me feel like I wasn't a man. I couldn't take it anymore. OH!" The dice man was awarded the Nobel "Sexist Pig" award for 1995 for committing the act>
After eating, the tandem promptly left the building to see that that Syclone was gone.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Chicane-mobile! Where have you gone? Dear Lord, why have you forsaken me?"
"BECAUSE YOU HAVE STOLEN SOMETHING MADE IN THE IMAGE OF MY CHARIOT!" a booming voice came at the two of them.
"Who's there? Is it who I think it is?" Viking asked uncertainly.
"YES. IT IS I. IT IS...THE WIZARD OF OZ! DON'T LOOK BEHIND THAT CURTAIN. THERE'S NO SYCLONE BEHIND THAT. NO..NO STAY AWAY."
So they did, and left. They headed out to a car dealership, and saw a fat smelly guy come out, with a french guy behind him.
"Hello there laddies, and welcome to Honest Gertrude's Car Shoppe. How can I help you?"
"Well...youcould answer some questions. Like...are you female? Because you are a rather...well..." Viking started.
"Hideous pig of a woman." Goose finished off in his usual cocky cant. She did not appear at all fazed by this. In fact, her smile grew.
"You got the secret phrase of the day. You win any car on the lot!" she yelled, moving her hand in a sweeping gesture that covered the lot and ended up on... a matte black Sonoma Syclone.
"OH MY GOD! IT'S THE EPITOME OF GNARLY!" Viking yelled again, as, once again, he fell to his knees and praised the truck. But Goose was busy chatting with the French guy.
"So, what will you give me for our car?" he asked.
"What...what car...I am seeing NO car." the French man stated in his usual pissy voice as he hugged Babbette his Chia poodle closer.
"Sure there is. It has...stealth technology. I'll sell it to you for the fair price of...30 thousand dollars." Goose told the Frenchman, who began to prance with glee.
"Yes, I will TAKE ze car. 'Ere is your money." he said as he handed Goose 30 G's in cash. (Interesting how they all seem to have large quantities of cash on hand. Must be the foreigners.) Anyways, Goose left the Frenchman, who was walking around that area of the lot, tapping his hand down on air, hoping to hear it hit metal and yelling..."Helloooooooo? Caaaarrrr? You cannot hide from me forever. Some day you will need oil!"
"So, can I interest you in one of the fine autos on this lot?"
"Of course you can, you overbearingly obese lump of cellulite!" Again she perked up, and after he finished his free 'Mug o' Joe', Goose began searching the lot. Soon his eyes landed upon a solid black, Dodge Ram 2500 with a v8 engine and a really cool stereo. His body soon rejoined his eyes, and he asked for the truck.
"Goose! Get over here! I found a Syclone!" Viking yelled as Goose signed for the Ram.
"No."
"AWW! COME OOOOONNNNNNN! It's a SONOMA!"
"No."
"PLEEEEEAAASSEE? YOU GOTTA!"
"No."
Viking continued trying, offering everything from ten grand, which he didn't have, to beating up someone for Goose's enjoyment to buying him the biggest bowl of ice cream in the world, but Goose did not accept, and the two drove off in the Ram, Goose fiddling with the dials and knobs and giggling furiously, with Viking sulking in the passenger side, until he could resist no longer and started playing with a heat vent.
Anyways, by the time they reached Hell, Nebraska, Viking was just as eagerly playing with buttons. They avoided narrowly breaking into fisticuffs over the tape eject button, and all was fine again as they pulled again into a gas station.
"Okay, Vike, we gotta fill 'er up again." Goose explained for no reason at all which can be found, so Viking cuffed 'im one on his now heavily bruised body, then bellowed for the hick gas bar guy to fill up the truck.
"Can I wash the windows sir?" the guy asked.
"No, they're not dirty." Viking replied. So, the window washer geek headed over to the driver side.
"Can I wash the window, sir?"
"Sure, man! Here, I'll even give ya a fiver for it!" Goose told him and eagerly slipped the guy a five dollar bill. He was rewarded with 3 swipes of a squeegee, and one big swipe across the window with a muddy paper towel.
"Are you NUTS, Goose? That guy didn't deserve 5 bucks!"
"HEY! Lemme tell you something, Vike! Money was made to be SPENT FRIVOLOUSLY!"
"Oh really? Then explain banks." Viking asked Goose as they pulled into a McDonald's drive thru. Promptly, the employee asked to take their order, but neither person in the truck was listening.
"Ummmm..well..they're for...ummm...FUCK I DON'T KNOW! STOP IT WITH THE DUMBSHIT QUESTIONS AND SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Goose screamed. The sounds of muffled weeping began coming over the speaker.
"Oh, GOOD JOB GOOSE! Make the Drive thru guy cry! Terrific! This is REALLY gonna slow down Big Mac preparation time!" Viking bitched. Goose simply spat a large wad of 'Big League Chew' onto the speaker for no reason, in some sort of illegitimate show of strength he did not possess.
"Okay, Hi, this is a new employee. Can I take your order out there?"
"Yeah." Goose began.
"Okay, you want fries with that?"
"What? I haven't told you what I WANT yet. Gimme a supersize Double Big Mac meal with Coke, and..."
"Would you like fries with that?"
"It COMES with fries, you dolt! I ordered the MEAL!"
"Oh."
"Okay...Now, I want the double big mac, supersized with Coke, and a double quarter pounder meal supersized with root beer."
"I'm sorry, sir, we don't sell alcoholic beverages here."
"ROOT BEER, YOU PUTZ!"
"Oh. Kay, so that's a double big mac meal, a double quarter pounder people, and some hot apple pie."
"Who said anything about hot apple pie?"
"You did, just now."
"I did not!"
"Yes, you did!"
"But I wasn't ORDERING it!"
"So will that be one or two hot apple pie?"
"I DON'T WANT YOUR STINKING HOT APPLE PIE!"
"I assure you sir...our pie does NOT emit a foul odour of any kind."
"I DO NOT WISH TO SMELL YOUR PIES! I JUST WANT WHAT I ORDERED!"
"Run to the border? No, sir, that's Taco Bell(TM). I could call them and have them deliver if you'd like."
"NO! JESUS!"
"Oh, yes, we get a lot of sightings around here, sir."
"Sightings of WHAT? Actual FOOD being PREPARED and SERVED to the CUSTOMER?!"
"No, sir, Jesus. Everyone keeps seeing Jesus here."
"I bet he wouldn't have to put up with this..." Goose grumbled.
"...yessir, last person to see the son of Christ was Mrs. Beewoop. Saw his visage in her spaghetti, she did. His head was a meatball. Not a little one either. One of those big, beefy..."
"I DON'T CARE ABOUT HOLY MEAT!"
"I'm sorry sir, but we don't carry Kosher meat here. You might wanna try.."
"I AM NOT JEWISH!"
"Then why'd you ask for Holy blessed meat?"
"I DIDN'T!"
"Oh. So, okay. Are you going to order anything?"
"I ALREADY DID!"
"You did?"
"YES! A SUPERSIZE DOUBLE BIG MAC MEAL AND A SUPERSIZE DOUBLE QUARTER-POUNDER MEAL!"
"With Cheese." Viking added. Goose relayed this to the employee.
"I'm sorry, we don't sell cheese here."
"NO! I want cheese on the DOUBLE QUARTER-POUNDER!"
"Oh, okay then. So. How many apple pies are you getting?"
"ZERO! NONE! ZIP! ZILCH!"
"And would you like fries with that?"
"WITH WHAT!!!?"
"The food you just ordered."
"I ORDERED MEALS! THEY COME WITH FRIES!"
"No, not that food, the food you just ordered now. The McChicken and Filet O' Fish"
"WHY WOULD I ORDER A FILET O' FISH? It's not even FOOD! Just old cat meat that's starting to smell funny so you market it as SEAFOOD!"
"We don't sell crab, sir."
"WHAT? I asked you about seafood, not CRABS!"
"Isn't that kinda a personal question, sir?"
"I have a gun."
"Pardon me, sir?"
"A GUN! I HAVE A FUCKING GUN!"
"Okay, sir, so that was one supersized double big mac meal, one supersized double quarter pounder with cheese meal, and some apple pie. Pull through please."
"YOU BETTER BELIEVE I AM PULLING THROUGH!" Goose drove forward, his face a mask of rage, and found that there was one window for both taking his money and handing him his food. Dippy the cashier was inside. The moron handed Goose the food first.
"Okay, that'll be..." he was interrupted as the boxed apple pie struck him in the glasses. He quickly threw it back into the truck.
"I didn't ORDER THIS! Take it BACK!" Goose threw it again. It came out of its box as it struck the lad in the chest.
"Sir, this pie has been unboxed, you have to eat it now." the employee quipped, then threw it back at Goose. He caught it and squeezed, spraying filling all over his face.
"Careful, sir, that may be a bit..."
"AAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHHH! IT BURNS! Oh GOD it BURNS!" Goose shrieked, then splashed his Coke on his face to relieve the pain. He then pulled the employee through the window and repeatedly opened and closed the door on his head until the guy was bleeding and knocked out. Then he drove off.
"I still don't see what your problem with the drive thru is." Viking mentioned as they started back down the highway. Goose simply glared at him, then they continued on their way, eventually arriving in Tempe, Arizona.
Sitting in the diner, Goose and Viking were suddenly accosted by a man wearing a beanie.
"Hi there. My name is Eldon Perriwinkle. I have been following your story the last twelve pages, and in several occurences, you have called it a penniwinkle. It's a perriwinkle. With RRRRRR not NNNNNN. If I have to tell you one more time, I'm gonna lay the boots to you." Then, suddenly, he was...gone.
Now that they were free from Eldon, Perri-boy, the two marauders decided they would have to ask where exactly the giant pit leading to the center of the Earth was located. They drove to the nearest 7-11.
"Hello. Can I DAMN WELL help you?!" the familiar looking crass clerk bellowed. Suddenly, recognition set in.
"BUD RYAN!" Viking yelled.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Damn Cardinals fired me. Now I'm stuck here. My sons are the stockboys. Would you like to meet my clean-up staff?
"Uuuuh...sure." Viking replied, still shocked both by the presence of Bud as an employee at the store, and the fact that he was being nice.
"Okay, this is my mopman, Seth Joyner. My window washer, Clyde Simmons. And... well, he doesn't really DO anything, but meet Jim McMahon." Bud introduced each individual to the youth. Joyner nodded his head, Simmons waved, while McMahon came over and gave them each a big, sloppy kiss on the cheek.
"This is too weird." Goose exclaimed. Jim simply laughed heartily, then went back to...doing nothing.
"So, how did you get these guys to work HERE?"
"Simple intimidation. I scared the bloody Hell outta them. As for McMahon, well, he wasn't doing anything anyways." Ryan explained.
"Well, I was wondering if you could help me. I was looking for the center of the Earth,, and I knew that there was a hole somewhere in Arizona, and you should know where it is, being a high-standing member of the community such as you are."
"Get the Hell outta here, before I sick Garbage Man Eric Swann on ya. He'll show you pain like you never had!" And we were suddenly... gone.
"Say, Goose, let's take a chopper-ride and look for the hole from that vantage," Viking said, obviously desperate, and still a little shocked.
Goose agreed, and the two were off to the airport in a flash. They pulled into the lot, left the Ram and dashed into the terminal.
"Hello there, can I help you boys with something?" asked the cowboy hat wearing, sweaty and very cellulose enhanced counter attendant at " honest Bob's House of Flying Gizmos".
"Ummm...yeah, we'd like to rent a helicopter. And what's with your sign? Why's there a space before honest.?" Vike asked the large man, who stood there grinning for a few moments. <Goose fun fact : it takes many Americans from the Southern states up to 2 whole minutes to comprehend what is said to them!> Then, after about 20 seconds, a small bead of sweat formed on his head. This was taken as a good sign by the two youths, who did funky dances in glee as the American began to understand. But, alas, he didn't grasp it quite yet. So, there dances all for nought, they simply waited. Then, finally, when they were just about to give up, he spoke!
"Well boys, we don't rent helicopters, or "choppers" as we call them here in the states. We sell 'em! And about the sign, must be that damned asbestos dust coating the front half of the sign again." the fat man reached up and with his fat, meaty hand, pushed away an inch thick layer of mysterious buildup, and exposed the true reading of the sign, which was, "Dishonest Bob's House of Flying Gizmos".
"You bastard! You...you...DID THE QUOTEY FINGER THING! I CAN NO LONGER SIT BACK AND TAKE THIS FORM OF ABUSE!" Goose screamed, yet again going over the edge over something most people would consider trivial.
"Now, calm down son, I wasn't trying to "abuse" you <yeah, yeah, he did the quotes again>..." The poor gentleman never got to finish his sentence. In a flash, Goose went flying over the counter and tackled the evil freak.
"Goose! Chill, man!" viking yelled, trying to end the violence.
"I'LL SHOW HIM ABUSE! THIS IS ABUSE!" Goose screamed as he repeatedly kicked the man in the ribs, not stopping until long after the sickening cracking sounds ended and the man was unconscious, knocked out yet still coughing up blood.
"Oh, GOOD WORK Goose. Geez, now we've gotta go somewhere else! Man, you are really impeding this mission!" Viking yelled.
"Oh, I know the mission. I AM the mission! You don't have to tell ME about the MISSION! I am ALL OVER the FREAKING MISSION!" Goose yelled, mumbled something about cutting down on viewing cheezy action flicks, then stepped back over the counter, using the man's neck as a stepladder. the two were not about to give up, and soon found yet another helicopter sales company. This counter was manned by what was at first glance thought to be a large chimpanzee, but on closer examination turned out to be the ugliest woman on the face of the planet.
"Hey! Let's not go overboard now!" Viking yelled at the author about that last comment that was just made. Just then, the Guiness world records people showed up.
"Are you Miss Glenda Hoverbom?" the perpetually smiling Guiness man asked the supposed female. She nodded yes, and was presented with the ugliest plaque in the world, stating that she was THE definition of ugly.
"Sorry." Viking apologized sheepishly to the author. Goose looked back onto the scene, having been eyeing a group of leggy stewardesses walking around for no reason but because this is the sweeps portion of the story. So, for the sake of sweeps...
Well, right now, there is some incredibly gorgeous world famous swimsuit model walking around in the airport wearing nothing but those pesky censorship strips. It is quite the appealing sight for those male, and alternative female, readers out there. but since this is simply a story, all you can do is dream, although limited drooling WILL be permitted. And now, back to the story.
"So, you represent Guiness?" Goose asked the still smiling greaseball in a black suit.
"Yes! Yes I am! Would you care to smell my sweet, fresh cologne? It's Calvin Klein you know. Those of us in the records keeping business make pretty...good...money, I'll have you know."
"Oh...really." goose whispered, then quickly conferred with MV off to the side as the cologned fool smiled.
"Hey! This guy's loaded! We can take his money and buy ourselves a chopper!" Goose suggested. Viking thought about this for a minute, weighing all the options, looking at the facts of the matter, considering the fact that this was highly illegal, even in the Southern States where such acts as sleeping with relatives...sleeping with sheep...sleeping with, well you get the picture, are perfectly legal, then gave his thought out reply.
"Let's roll the fucker." and with that, the Guinness man's fate was sealed. The two enticed him outside with the promise of a display of the world'a largest anteater devouring the world's largest cheese log <with walnuts>. Once outside, they BEAT HIM! Oh, they beat him MERCILESSLY! AHAHAHA! Anyways, then they took his wallet, which contained 24 million dollars in cash, and some coupons, and headed back inside.
"All right!" Viking yelled ecstaticly.
"Yes! Now we can afford the helicopter and can find the hole leading to the center of the Earth!" Goose schemed.
"What? Oh that. Yeah, well that too. I was excited because with this sheet of coupons, we can hit a Subway and pick up premium subs at a fraction of the price! We're makin' out like BANDITS here!" Goose nodded in quizzical agreement as the two entered a joint Subway/helicopter rental outlet.
"Steak and cheese please." Viking requested, the man behind the counter quickly complied, then handed the sandwich to him. Goose was up next.
"Uuuuuh...yeah. I'll take a pizza sub, and...a helicopter under the price of 24 million dollars, please. And DON'T skimp on the peppers!" Again, the sandwich artist complied, but then told Goose that the chopper had already been sold to another man, and pointed to the gentleman across the restauarant sitting in a booth eating a pomegranate.
"What kind of service is THAT! Geez!" Goose exclaimed.
"Sorry sir, but with Bob being sent to the Emergency room and all after some hoodlum went nuts and beat him, everyone's been coming in here."
"I told you something bad would come about if you kept beating the shit out of people for sport!" Viking told his compatriot.
"Oh yeah! Thanks for reminding me!" Goose said to him as he pulled out a variation on a bingo card, and put a checkmark next to the line reading "Helicopter salesman". then, he put the card back, picked up his sub, and headed, with Viking, over to chat with the man who had purchased the helicopter.
"Hey there, mind if we sit down?" Viking asked.
"No, not at all." replied the East Indian male. So, they did.
"So, we hear you bought, oh, I dunno', a helicopter." Viking said through a mouthful of cheesy beef, then promptly leapt to his feet and spat the large, half chewed wad of foodstuff all over the floor.
"Is something wrong sir?" the attendant asked.
"I'll say something's wrong! This is not Alberta beef! I mean, I don't know WHERE you got this tripe, but it tastes terrible, and I demand a refund!"
"It came from Nevada sir."
"Nevada? My god man! How can you feed people the flesh of cows raised by drunken gamblers! The bastards probably did weird things to them, like stroking their udders for good luck!"
"I'm sorry sir! We do have some Namibian elephant meat in the back, if you'd prefer that."
"No damn you! I will NOT eat anything you may have here! And WE are LEAVING this Hellhole! Come on Goose!"
"No can do Viking, the guy just gave me his helicopter."
"He GAVE it to you?" Viking looked over the see that the man in question was slumped over the table. "HE'S DEAD! YOU KILLED HIM!"
"He ain't dead, he's...he's just resting is all!" Steel Dragon quoted directly from a Monty Python skit as he danced by the front of the Subway. He was promptly beaten up by southerners for his hair being too long.
"No, he...ummm...stabbed himself in the back 68 times with a skewer. And see? He even wrote up a quick will before his untimely death giving us the helicopter." Goose said, then handed Viking a tarnished piece of paper with the following written messily in red lettering :
I....errr....some guy from India....hereby bequeath my helicopter to Goose and Mighty Viking. Oh...and any 17-22 year old daughters I may possess.
"Interesting Goose...how this looks like your handwriting."
"Oh all right! So I DId write it with his blood!"
"His blood? Why didn't you use a pen!"
"Well, I always was good at fingerpainting. I just like getting right into my work I guess." Goose replied as he smiled like the Joker. Viking backed away a few steps. "By the way, I checked his pockets, he has no daughters in his possession."
"Ooooo...kay. Whatever. Anyways, so...what do we do now?"
"Let's see what kind of chopper we've got!" Goose yelled like some child who has just gotten a new toy, much like he did a week before when someone bought him a new Megazord toy. He pulled out a pamphlet the man had gotten when he bought the machine, and began reading. "So, you have purchased an Apache gunship. Please read before running this machine...yeah yeah yeah...don't over-burden the engine...yadda yadda yadda...don't use the rockets unless you have to...Cool! It's armed!...blah blah blah...send in $29.95 and a proof of purchase for a warranty and rebate...pretty standard stuff."
"So, how are we going to fly this thing?"
"Ummm...well, there was some sort of detailed sheet on how to fly the thing, but I used it as a napkin. Don't worry man! I have played Gunship 2000 and Steel Talons enough to know what I'm doing."
"Well, that's what you said about your Lethal Enforcers experience when we went out to that gun range for some sport shooting."
"Oh don't bring THAT up again now Viking."
"But that guy is STILL missing half his face."
"I told you to leave it alone man!"
"Poor kid still can't walk without a noticable limp..."
Anyways, the two made their way out to the parking lot and found, among several employee vehicles, an AH-64A Apache gunship helicopter sitting there in the lot, equipped with 30mm. chain gun, mast sights, 7.62 mm. rocket pods and Hellfire anti-armour missiles, as well as an alarm system, and a really neat, big red ejection button.
"So, this is it." Goose exclaimed, as he looked it over.
"No, it's the OTHER Gunship sitting across the lot! Of course this is it!" Viking angrily exploded. The whole bovine issue still had him rattled.
Goose did not hear the reply. He was still gazing at the chopper. To him, it was a thing of beauty, a thing of godliness, a...
"This is pretty damn funky!" Goose said, then climbed into the chopper. Vike climbed into the gunner's seat in front.
"So you know what you're doing then?"
"Trust me! And just enjoy the ride! And hey, if you see anything that pisses you off, just let some cannon rounds end their existence."
"Well, if you say so, I guess you know what you're..." Viking was cut off in mid-speech as a rocket suddenly screamed from it's launcher, flew across the lot, and blew the Ram to pieces.
"Damn! Wrong button...well, it must be this one then..." Goose mumbled. And soon, the whine of the turbine was heard over the other sounds...cops heading over to the burning truck, ambulances screaming to the scene, some annoying brat who wouldn't stop crying because "his arm was lying across the lot." And, with some deft operation of the control sticks, Goose managed to...sit on the lot.
"Ummm...Goose, shouldn't we leave?" Viking suggested.
"Ummm...sure. I'm just uh...checking the...ummm...errr...the...water pressure...in....in the...cabin...manifold. Yeah, that's it." Goose tried again, and this time he did it. He achieved flight! For a whopping 2 and a half seconds.
"Dammit Goose get us the Hell outta here man!" Police were seeming to be drawn to the rather...well...legally violating black market gunship chopper.
"Oh all right." Goose angrily growled, then started slapping buttons at random. Screens turned on, the rear rotor spun faster, and...they actually took off and soared overtop the scene of carnage in the parking lot. Now they were off to find the pit!
"Wow! This is neat! So many buttons yet untouched!" Goose screamed in glee, and he began pressing them. As they flew along, after several of what Goose described as "minor mishaps" which included the destruction of the top floor of a hospital, releasing chaff all over a group of kids on their way to school, jamming the radar at the Tempe airport, and sending a salvo of rockets directly into Sun Devil stadium during a game. Luckily, attendance of the game was it's normal number, and the 200 people there were not injured in the succession of blasts. But now, now they were flying over un-inhabited terrain, searching, looking for the pit to the center of the Earth.
"See anything?"
"No."
"See anything now?"
"No."
"So...how much fuel do we have anyways?" Viking asked.
"Fuel? Oh...ummm...4600 feet. No wait, that's altitude. Ummm...220 kph. Nope, that's not it...errrr...some...I guess."
His curiosity now satisfied, Viking returned to his search, as Goose giggled insanely at something he'd found in the pilot's seat. Just then, a call came over the communications system.
"Hey guys! What are you doing up here?" the voice over the radio sounded. It was Mike.
"Looking for some hole to the center of the Earth, how you doin' Mike?" Mike Sheppard was in a helicopter beside theirs.
"Well, knowing what a loose cannon you were in my stories, I can understand what you would be doing that for. Well, uncle Sam, who I now work for wants you guys on the ground." and he proceeded to force the two to land. Fortunately, his piloting skills weren't as good as he made them out to be in his stories, and he ended up moving further away from the other helicopter.
"I've had it. I'm gonna take that guy out!" Viking shouted, tired of all the distractions. He pushed an undentified button, and the chopper began to sink. He pushed a succession of five other buttons, and the helicopter righted itself, and three missiles were sent hurtling into the other helicopter. "That took care of him! Now we can continue."
But Goose was in tears. "He was a friend of mine. But still, like you said, anything for the mission. But next story, we get to kick the shit outta Rob, okay?"
"Yeah, I understand. Let's go, Goose." and they were on their way.
It was about twenty minutes later when they found a big hole in the ground in the middle of the desert. They set the chopper down, miraculously, and went to inspect it closer.
"Is this it?" Goose asked.
"OF COURSE THIS IS IT! No, it's the other big fucking hole in the middle of nowhere that just happens to be in Arizona!" Viking said, irritated. But at least Goose was back to his old self.
"Okay, let's get the equipment out of the ... Omigod... THE RAM! It's sky high right now. We don't have any equipment. What will we do? WHAT WILL WE DOOOOOO?!" Goose was in hysterics.
"Well, you can go home now, but I'm going down there, with or without equipment." Viking said, as he tripped over a rock and fell on his face.
A Mexican American arrived on the scene just in time to see this, and started laughing heartily.
"I'll teach you to laugh heartily! Come get some!" Viking screamed and took off after the Mexican guy with a chia chihuahua in his hands, riding a donkey.
"No, senor, I only wish to sell trinkets to stupid Canadian tourists who think this is Mexico. Leave me alone."
"Prey on the innocence of my countrymen, will you? Errr... say, what kind of trinkets DO you have anyway?" Viking asked, calming down.
"Well, I have three ponchos that would have sold by now if I had gotten to town. Unfortunately, my Harley broke down, and I was forced to ride "Muchacho" to town. They're only fifty dollars each. Want one?"
Viking could not resist. "I'll take all three. Just wait," he started to himself, "nobody will believe that I got these from a real Mexican. I'm sooo pleased." and he walked back to the hole.
Goose had already gone down, so Viking decided to follow as quickly as he could, but first, he grabbed a provisions bag that was in the helicopter from when they bought it. Goose had forgotten the flashlight as well, so he must have been having quite a time with it.
Viking jumped down to the first platform, shining his light all around, calling "Gooosse!" He was startled when he turned around and saw Goose standing right there.
"Where were you, Goose?"
"I was right beside you the entire time."
"I don't believe you!"
"Yes you do."
"Okay, maybe."
Just then, a shape jumped out at them, and scared Viking into submission. "HI GOOSE!" Flash cried out, as Vike picked himself off the platform.
"Oh, hi there. What are you doing here?" Cliff asked, obviously taken by this effervescent young lady.
"Me? I'm bugbear hunting. Today is the day they come out in force, and I have to stop them from attacking innocent civilians.
From the distance, there was heard a growling, and Flash turned. "Oh, there's one now. I gotta go. I'll call you later, Goose." And then she was suddenly...not there.
Setting up a rope that was tied around a stump on the first platform, Goose and Viking started climbing down, Goose using the rapelling technique that was so unsuccessful in the SunBird, Viking just using his arms and legs, hoping not to fall.
Then he did. He and Goose were suddenly weightless, as they started to plummet downward. Someone had undone...the rope.
"Well, this is a real nice how do you do!" Viking bellowed as they fell, fighting the wind whipping against their falling bodies and the G forces to cross his arms. Then, they hit bottom, sort of like this story has.
"Are we...alive?" Goose asked. Viking sent his reply in the form of a punch to the shoulder of Goose. "I guess not, eh?"
"No. Thank God for this 20 foot deep layer of pillow stuffing that we landed on." Viking said. then they looked up, looked waaaayyyyyyy up, to the lip of the pit to see what evil fiend had sent them plummetting down to this cushioned prison.
"Hi guys! I decided to come along! Look, I already started. I cut this pesky rope that was hanging down into the pit." Vasques yelled down to the two guys who were no glowering at him from their stone death-trap.
"You FOOL! Now we're TRAPPED down here!" Goose yelled as he mightily shook his fist. The form of Vasques was now replaced by that of Vanquished,
"Well, glad to see my heinous plan worked. No offense guys, I just needed to do something devious and evil, and this was the PERFECT opportunity." he said. Just then, Vasques, who Vanquished had pushed, joined the two others at the bottom of the pit.
"Thanks a lot Vanquished!" he yelled.
"HAHA! Silly Vas! Now your Sonic Youth CD shall be mine for all eternity!" Vanquished yelled, then began to laugh.
"So, what are we gonna do now?" Viking asked the other two. Goose did his usual, shrugging in non-decisiveness, while Vas simply started looking around for chicks. Seeing none, he came back to join the others.
"Well, obviously this is not the pit leading to the center of the Earth, unless the center of the Earth is a mere 250 feet beneath the surface." Viking announced. The others agreed. this was not the pit they were looking for. Now they had to escape so they could beat up on Vanquished, Vas could return to hunting for babes, and Viking and Goose could continue their quest for...THE CENTER OF THE EARTH.
"So, how to we get out of here, guys?" Vasques asked. Goose again shrugged and didn't know, while Viking stroked his chin and pondered this problem.
"I've got it. We'll have to climb."
"That is what you came up with?" Vas asked.
"Do you have any better suggestions? No? Then silence yourself, or I shall drop you like a herring!" Viking growled. then, he began pulling himself up the rocks, biceps rippling, muscles bulging, ankle...
"Owwwwwww! Damn! I think I hurt my ankle again!" Viking bellowed as he fell the whole 2 feet he had climbed back to the pit floor.
"Great. So NOW whtta we do?" Vas asked. Nobody knew. It looked bad for our heroes.
Tune in next time,
Same bat channel,
Same bat time...
Uhhhhh...ignore that. Seems other stories are competing with ours. we have now gotten ours back on track. Thank you for your patience in this matter.
"Well...I guess it's up to me, guys. Vas, stay down here with Mighty, I must somehow get up these walls!" Goose yelled.
"Oh shut the Hell up, and stop trying to be hero boy! I can still climb, and you two can pull yourselves up. then, we shall vanquish Vanquished." Viking said. The others seemed to agree, and soon the three had pulled themselves three quarters of the way up.
"Must...make...it...to...top!" Goose grunted as he climbed.
"Must...conplete...mission!" was Viking's line.
"Must...use...this...story...to...pick...up...babes!" was Vas's battle cry. And with their separate reasons for making it, the three did, pulling themselves up and over the edge of the pit, where Vanquished had been...but was now gone.
"Oh well. Oh great! He took off in the Apache!" Viking yelled.
"Oh great. We are seriously shitfucked." Goose blabbered, using one of his many Goose-emisms.
"Well, I guess we'll have to walk back to civilization." Vas mumbled, and the three started trudging down the road.
"Hey, maybe that car will pick us up." Goose said after an hour and a half of meandering down the dusty road. The others turned to see that there was indeed a car coming towards them in the distance. Soon, it reached their position.
"Hey there boys, can I offer you a ride?" the driver asked.
"Sure. Thank you. It's murder walking out here!" Vas replied as they clambered into the Cadillac convertible.
"Ummm...yeah...murder. Haha. Wouldn't know nothin' but no murder. Nope. Haha. So, nice weather we're having? Yeah. Nice weather, no murder. None at all. Zero. The big 0. Nothing at all." the driver babbled as they began driving.
"Something about this guy bothers me." Viking whispered to Goose.
"Yeah, I get the weird feeling he's hiding something." Goose replied as he began moving items that were impeding his comfort. Once he moved the 5 kilogram bag of cocaine, 3 crates of military weapons and dismembered human arm, he was fine. Anyways the trip went without incident as he drove them all back to Tempe. They thanked him for the ride, and he hurried off to some appointment with the devil or some such thing. Anyways, now that they could start searching once more for the pit that would lead to their ultimate success, Vas decided he would go back to Sherwood Park, making a stop in Leduc to get his CD back and kick the ass of the now evil Vanquished. And with that...he left.
"So, what are we going to do now?" Goose asked.
"I don't know. I just don't know. We have to somehow find the hole which we are seeking. But we have learned that Arizona is rather large, and it will take time to find the place which we are looking for." Viking replied to the query of his friend.
"Or, we could just find a store selling maps and directions to the Center of the Earth pit." Goose added.
"HAHAHA! Silly fool! This place for which you seek does not exist, even in the minds of idiots! Now let us feed ourselves and rest! Tomorrow we shall continue our quest!" Viking boomed mightily in his confident man voice. then, they headed off down the street.
MEANWHILE
"Oh well. Thought they were going to come in for a minute there. Guess I'll close up shop for the day." an unknown stranger said as the two walked away from his shop. He closed the till, and as he left, locked the door and hung a sign reading "Closed" next to the sign for his establishment, which read "Uncle Barney's House of Artifacts.", under which hung a smaller, handwritten sign reading "We've got Center of the Earth maps!"