In a Galaxy, far, far, away....
After the death of Banakin,
the galaxy seemed to be safe, until
the fearsome Darth Tater rose to power.
His once banana head was grotesquely burned and twisted to look like a potato.
He is now ruling the galaxy with his fearsome fleet of Dorito Destroyers.
An army of nice smelling cologne troopers do his bidding throughout the galaxy. It is at this time that the galaxy mosts needs a hero.
(Looks like the Starwars prologue, right?)
[Opens on a child. He is whining]
Puke: Grown-up male that isn't my dad!?! Why do we live on this stupid dry planet with shaggy goat things and freaky cannibal people?! It sucks here! Grown-up male that isn't my father! Help! the freaky cannibals are attacking me! Grown-up not dad! HELP!
[Puke gets attacked, and old geezer saves him. Wakes up in the geezer's shack]
Puke: Oh, great, another grown-up male that isn't my father.
Geezer: How do I know that I'm not your father?
Puke: Dude, your like, seventy year's old. I'm like eight. Do really expect me to believe that you and some lady had me when you were like seventy-something?
Geezer: I guess that makes sense... qiuck! Watch this hot chick ask for help!
Puke: Is that hologram coming out of a trashcan?
Geezer: No, that's a repurposed trashcan. It's name is Charley.
Charly: Beep boop.
Hologram: SAVE ME! I REALLY REALLY REALLY NEED SOME HELP! S.O.S.! SAVE ME!
Puke: That's nice. I'm hungry. FEED ME!
Geezer: Wait, wait... your not attracted by that hot chick?
Puke: Dude, I'm like eight. Did you expect me to?
Geezer: I thought all boys you age were into girls. Hmmmmm.
Puke: Shows how much you know.
Geezer: Well, I'm kidnapping you so that we can go trapsing across the galaxy and mess everything up.
Puke: Do you even have a ship?
Geezer: Uh... I didn't think of that.
Puke: Old guys take pills everyday, right? All your's must be stupid pills.
Geezer: You one snotty and sarcastic little boy.
Puke: Dude, my name is "Puke." It doesn't really set me up to be a sweet little boys who pets kittens wearing bows.
Geezer: I guess not.
Puke: So, you got a ship or not?
Geezer: No, but theres a bunch of people in a bar down the road. We'll head down there real quick.
Puke: Dude, I'm underage.
Geezer: No! We aren't going for drinks, there a bunch of people there with ships.
Puke: Oh. Whatever.
Geezer: Let's go.
[Time lapse. Puke and Geezer enter the bar and find this scene playing out:]
Fritz: Burrito, I may just have to shoot first. You are making me very... very... Oh, what's the word?
Burrito: Uh... annoyed?
Fritz: No, something stronger than that.
Burrito: Angry?
Fritz: No, something perhaps vulgar.
Burrito: Uh, freakin'?
Fritz: You know what Burrito? I'm just gonna shoot first!
[Pulls out lasergun and shoots Burrito in the knee]
Burrito: GAH! MY ARTICULATIO GENUS!
Fritz: Yeah, serves you right. Freak.
[Geezer taps him on the shoulder. Fritz turns]
Fritz: GAH! My hundred-year-old grandfathe crawled out of his grave!
Geezer: I'm not your grandpappy, you delusional whippersnapper!
Fritz: You are his spittin' image.
[Fritz spits to get his point across]
Geezer: Well, that's beside the point.
Fritz: Then what is the point?
Geezer: We need a ship. And a fast one.
Puke: What are we gonna do? Enter the Indy 500?
Fritz: Heh, don't talk about the Indy. My parellel character's actor was an Indy. Indiana Jones to be, uh, what's the word?
Puke: SPITOON!
Fritz: What? How does that fit in context?
Puke: I don't know. That's just my favorite word.
Fritz: Whatever shrimpy.
Geezer: So, do you have a ship?
Fritz: Yeah, the fastest one out there. She's the Donut Flash.
Geezer: Excellent. We depart immediatley.
Fritz: Hold your horses, old crotchety. First we have to stop at the kennel to get my friend.
Puke: We're bringing a dog?
Fritz: A dog? No, my buddy and copilot, he's kinda hairy. They don't let him in the hotels 'cuz he's shedding right now.
Geezer: Oh my....
Puke: That is disgusting.
Fritz: Yeah well, Cherrio is a hairy one. Come on.
Puke: Wait, I gotta finish my drink.
Geezer: PUKE!
Puke: Just kidding. Let's go get the living hairball.
[They leave the bar and walk down the road to the kennel. Walk into the kennel]
Cheerio: MRAWWWHH!
Fritz: Yeah, I love you too big guy.
Puke: Were did that noise some from? All I see is hair.
Fritz: That's Cheerio.
Puke: Holy crap. I thought that it was the world's largest hairball.
Fritz: Obviously not. Cheerio's living, hairballs are, uhm, what's the word I'm looking for?
Geezer: Living?
Fritz: No, four syllables I think.
Cheerio: Mrawh?
Fritz: YES! That's the word I'm looking for.
Puke: Really dude? You can understand the Beast from the Bowel of a Cat?
Fritz: Cheerio. Her name is Cheerio.
Puke: IT'S FEMALE?
Fritz: Heck, yeah.
Geezer: Can we get to the Donut Flash? It's sorta urgent.
Fritz: I wouldn't be walking to fast if I were you. Are old are you? 70? 80? You might hurt your back.
Geezer: My age is out of the question.
Fritz: Don't you have, like, a walker or something?
Geezer: My age is not the matter at hand. Get Cheerio and let's blast off.
[Fritz takes Cheerio from her kennel]
Fritz: Blast's off? Really? What is this, the 60's?
Geezer: Whatever. Let's go.
[The foursome walk towards a hanger. A newspaper blows past Puke. He picks it up and reads the heading]
Puke: Hey, listen to this: Darth Tater Elected New Inter-Galactic Pope.
Geezer: What on Tatoo?
Fritz: What's it supposed to mean?
Cheerio: MRAWH!
Puke: What's a pope?
Geezer: I've heard them... they seem to be important to an alien race known as the 'Catholics.' If Darth Tater has been made the Inter-Galactic Pope, that means he's taken over yet another solar system. This is not a good sign.
CLIFFHANGER! Stay tuned for more from Puke, Geezer, and Fritz!
Cheerio: MRAWWWHH!
Fritz: Yeah, I love you too big guy.
Puke: Were did that noise some from? All I see is hair.
Fritz: That's Cheerio.
Puke: Holy crap. I thought that it was the world's largest hairball.
Fritz: Obviously not. Cheerio's living, hairballs are, uhm, what's the word I'm looking for?
Geezer: Living?
Fritz: No, four syllables I think.
Cheerio: Mrawh?
Fritz: YES! That's the word I'm looking for.
Puke: Really dude? You can understand the Beast from the Bowel of a Cat?
Fritz: Cheerio. Her name is Cheerio.
Puke: IT'S FEMALE?
Fritz: Heck, yeah.
Geezer: Can we get to the Donut Flash? It's sorta urgent.
Fritz: I wouldn't be walking to fast if I were you. Are old are you? 70? 80? You might hurt your back.
Geezer: My age is out of the question.
Fritz: Don't you have, like, a walker or something?
Geezer: My age is not the matter at hand. Get Cheerio and let's blast off.
[Fritz takes Cheerio from her kennel]
Fritz: Blast's off? Really? What is this, the 60's?
Geezer: Whatever. Let's go.
[The foursome walk towards a hanger. A newspaper blows past Puke. He picks it up and reads the heading]
Puke: Hey, listen to this: Darth Tater Elected New Inter-Galactic Pope.
Geezer: What on Tatoo?
Fritz: What's it supposed to mean?
Cheerio: MRAWH!
Puke: What's a pope?
Geezer: I've heard them... they seem to be important to an alien race known as the 'Catholics.' If Darth Tater has been made the Inter-Galactic Pope, that means he's taken over yet another solar system. This is not a good sign.
CLIFFHANGER! Stay tuned for more from Puke, Geezer, and Fritz!
No comments:
Post a Comment
To comment without a Gmail account simply select whichever account type you have OR Anonymous when it asks for your ID. Be sure to leave your name! It's terrible to be known as "anonymous" for all eternity!