Annan Powers
- International Man of Mediocrity -
in "You Only Invade Twice."
(Part XI of Z over B times A minus your IQ)
by J. Edward Tremlett, Columnist
December 5, 2002
"Down On the rANT Farm"
(In
our last
installment, Annan Powers - very much alive, thank you - has gotten
Saddam to sign for weapons inspectors. Meanwhile, Doctor George's plan to invade
- or not - is going along fine, with Secret Agent Bear running the show in Baghdad,
and the mysterious agent "She" about to deal with Rat Bastard...)
* * *
PART XI: "She" Shoots %^&* Shells at Skitter, Yeah Sure
(Back to Dr. George's Evil "LAY-ihr." Dr. George, Number None, Frau Condi and Dickie are trying to get through to Secret Agent Bear on the Big Screen, which is being repaired by various underlings... most of which are lounging around drinking coffee while only one or two do the real work.)
Dr. George: Come on... how hard can it be to fix that frickin thing?
Dickie: (whispering to Frau) What happened to the Big Screen?
Frau: (whispering back) Vell... your fvather made thee mistake of reading Fvree Republic on it. And he got vehry, vehry angry... and he threw his chair at it.
Dickie: (giggling) Oh man... are they still calling him names over there? Frau: Ov course. (rolls eyes)
Dickie: Why does he take that bunch of people seriously? It's a wonder most of them aren't in jail for -
(Dickie realizes his voice has gone over a whisper. Everyone's staring at him. He shrugs, shuts up)
(Just then, the Big Screen starts working again)
Dr. George: About frickin time... get me Baghdad!
(The screen flickers and waves, then zooms in on Secret Agent Bear, dressed like Saddam Hussein and sitting behind his desk. Bear's also drinking a very flowery cocktail and reading a bright, chartreuse copy of "Man-Cake" magazine.)
Dr. George: Er... um... did we catch you at a bad time, Agent Bear?
(SAB realizes the camera's on, tosses both magazine and cocktail away, waves at the screen. Dickie holds his head and winces.)
Dr. George: Alright... listen, about that last broadcast. Our Evil Media Monitors are saying that you're doing a great job with keeping America angry at you, but it looks like you're making the Iraqis a little... er... how do you say...
Number None: Cheesed off, sir.
Dr. George: Yes. Thank you, Number None. Cheesed off, as they say.
(SAB makes weird noises that are somehow understood... at least by most. Dr. George strains his ears a bit.)
Dr. George: Okay... so you've got the situation in... hand?
(SAB nods enthusiastically, makes more noises)
Dr. George: You're doing what?
(SAB repeats one of the noises)
Dr. George: What did he say?
Frau: I think he said he's (weird noise) them....?
Number None: Are you sure he said (weird noise)? I thought it was (another weird noise).
Dr. George: Well, what does (weird noise) and (another weird noise) mean?
Dickie: (still cringing) Don't ask me. Just let me live with my pain...
Dr. George: Oh... whatever. Do what you think works, Agent Bear.
(SAB waves 'goodbye' and then the Big Screen shuts off. Dickie winces and whimpers again.)
Dr. George And you, young man... you just watch your attitude.
DIckie: But... but... but...
Number None: (leans in, whispers to Dickie) Under standing orders left from our last evil genius, you're not allowed to talk about it to him.
(Close on Dickie, still whimpering.)
(CUT TO: a jazzy part of "YMCA" by the Village People. We're back at the rooftop of Saddam's palace, which has since been repainted a nice shade of mauve. SAB sits at a table surrounded by hunky, shirtless members of the Iraqi guard, all of whom are pounding beers and exchanging their berets for black leather biker hats.)
(Male go-go dancers gyrate on the tables, and SAB beckons one in closer so as to stuff American money into his g-string.)
(Just then, Rot Skitter - ne Rat Bastard, looking really scrawny once more - appears, wearing what's left of his stripy bathing suit)
Skitter: Gosh! Uncle Saddam! I've been looking all over for you...
SAB: (Gets back into character, makes strange noises)
Skitter: Yeah... it took me a while to get better... wow, the place sure has changed...
(The guards start eyeing Skitter up. SAB waves them off, makes more noises.)
Skitter: I would have gotten here sooner, Uncle Saddam, but some crazy lady's been trying to kill me! I think I lost her-
(Just then, there's a sound not unlike someone rapid-fire cursing as an elephant breaks wind. Guards are perforated and vaporized by a hail of... something.)
(From out of the bushes steps a scrawny, scowling woman wearing a camouflaged two-piece and beret. She carries/wears something that looks like a cross between a respirator and a minigun, with the business end pointed at Skitter. And though the mask's over her mouth, we can't help but notice that she's actually... Vacuous Right-Wing Tart!)
Skitter: Oh no! It's her! (Hides behind SAB)
SAB: (Blinks. Makes authoritative noises)
Vacuous: (screams into mask) Liberal-commie-hippie-drugpusher-atheist-queer-monkeybrain-peacenik-feminazi-democrat-junkie-BarbaraStriesand-heathen-countrywesternsinger...!!!
Gun: chugga-chugga-chugga-*@#$-chugga-chugga-chugga-@%#$-chugga-chugga-chugga-!@#$-chugga-chugga-chugga-@#$!-chugga-chugga-chugga...
(When the shooting stops, SAB notices that she's shot a perfect outline around the two of them on the wall behind. Gulps. Asks the obvious question.)
Vacuous: (lowers mask) What? You think Frontpage and Fox News are enough for me? That's the day job, boys. I live to destroy people. (cocks gun) And you two get to be this week's big story...
(SAB sighs, shakes head, tries to reason with her)
Vacuous: (walks closer) Speak English or die... freak.
(SAB holds up a picture of himself - sans Saddam disguise - with Dr. George's Dad)
Vacuous: Ha! What's your point? I'll shoot that sorry, has-been RINO !@#$
too... someday...
Skitter: You back off, crazy lady! Uncle Saddam's gonna whip your butt!
(SAB shakes head)
Vacuous: Oooo. Maybe I'd better use heavy ordinance, then.
(Pulls out a copy of her new book - "SQUICKER!" - extends its fuse, lights it, and throws it at SAB and Skitter...!)
Skitter: AGHHHHH!!!!!
SAB: (Weird noises that probably mean "AGHHHHH!!!!!")
***
(To be continued ...)
J. Edward Tremlett is a published author, political thinker and self-described "mean-spirited crank." He lives with his wife and two cats in Dubai, United Arab Emirates.
© 2002 J. Edward Tremlett
COPYRIGHT © 2002 BY THE AMERICAN PARTISAN. All writers retain rights to their work.
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