Annan Powers
- International Man of Mediocrity -
in "You Only Invade Twice."
(Part XII.i out of XIII)
by J. Edward Tremlett, Columnist
December 20, 2002
"Down On the rANT Farm"
(In
our last
installment, "She" - aka Vacuous Right-Wing Tart - cornered both Rat
Bastard -aka Rott Skitter - and Saddam Hussein - aka Secret Agent Bear - and
was preparing to kill them both! What will this mean for Dr. George's evil war
plans?)
* * *
PART XII.i: All Fall Down pt. 1 - Like a Bear, Scorned
(CUT TO: Dr. George's Evil "LAY-ihr." Dr. George is talking with some guy on the big screen: the guy's wearing a cowboy hat and duds and is covered in bits of fleece. Number None, Frau Condi, Dickie and Meanie-Me are there with Dr. George, all trying to not laugh.)
Dr. George: So... Mr... um...
JBSB: Sheep-Bleeper. Jim-Bob Sheep-Bleeper, the founder of Freak-Republic.
(Dickie snorts. For once, no one scolds him)
JBSB: Now just what is so gosh-darn funny?
Dr. George: Er... nothing. Nothing at all. You were saying about your... demands?
JBSB: That's right. If'n you don't stop with all this stupid RINO cow%^&* and start doin what we all tell you, we Freakers ain't gonna vote for you no more.
Dr. George: (pause) Riiiiiiight.
JBSB: Darn tootin. We'll all put our votes behind a REAL American... someone who wants to be able to speak English at a convenience store... someone who wants to drive their SUV all over endangered species and barbecue the remains like G-d intended...
(CUT TO: Four hours of demands later)
JBSB: ... and, finally, the right to have marital relations with the farm animals we own!
(A pause, then laughter.)
JBSB: Now just what is so gosh-darn funny?
Dr. George: Well.... um... Mr. Sheep-Bleeper... my Evil Administration is simply not prepared to advocate... um... did you say...?
(A sheep goes BAAA-A-A-A! off-screen)
JBSB: (turns head) I'll just be a minute, Cindy-Lou...
(Even more laughter. Meanie-Me holds up a sign, which says "EEEEEW!")
Dr. George: You know, Mr. Sheep-Bleeper... people like you used to intimidate me. I felt like I had to do what everyone wanted. But now, I've found a different way to handle ultimatums from self-righteous internet-based special interest groups.
JBSB: Really? And just what is that, my friend?
(Dr. George chuckles and goes for The Red Button. Everyone puts on sunglasses.)
(CUT TO: A weird satellite, out in space above the Earth. It turns around and fires a beam at somewhere in the United States.)
(CUT BACK TO: the Big Screen)
JBSB: And just what in the hell is so funny now-
(The beam of light hits him with a ZAAAAP! noise, and then there's nothing but ash and a singed cowboy hat in the chair. The sheep goes BAAA-A-A-A! off-screen, again. The Big Screen goes blank)
Number None: (applauding) Well done, sir. Well done.
Dr. George: Thank you. That felt goooood. (pinky in mouth)
Dickie: So... why don't we use The Red Button on Rat Bastard?
Dr. George: Oh no... you see, Dickie, we're only allowed to use Classified weapons on own territory, now.
Number None: It's a holdover from Dr. Jimmy.
Dickie: Well, okay... how about we use it on Al Bore?
Dr. George: (sighs) Dickie, you have to understand... there's a certain level of... um... um...
Number None: Finesse, sir?
Dr. George: Yes... thank you my encyclopedic employee. Finesse. You simply must have it if you want to be truly EEE-vil.
(Dickie rolls his eyes as Dr. George goes on)
Dr. George: Now, a lesser fellow with no flair, he might be willing to use such a powerful tool on a potential rival. But it's quite like cheating. And besides... there's no real fun in it.
Dickie: So it's just there to zap people who think a website makes them a force to be reckoned with.
Number None: Not to mention the occasional door-to-door salesman... on bad days, of course.
(Just then, there's the sound of a machinegun going off.)
(CUT TO: The Big Door, now being perforated with bulletholes to make an outline of a really skinny woman wearing a beret. Once it's done, it's kicked down by... Vacuous Right-Wing Tart! She walks in with a machinegun over one shoulder, and two camouflaged hatboxes in either hand.)
Dr. George: Ah... Vacuous, my voluptuous valkyrie... I see your mission was a... success? (puts pinky in mouth)
(Vacuous approaches, puts the hatboxes on the floor and holds up a sign. It says: "I can't !@#$n talk.")
Number None: What happened?
(She whips the sign around. On the other side is "!@#$n Laryngitis. Trying to !@#$n kill that piece of #$%^ turned my vocal cords to string cheese.")
Dickie: (snorts) "Trying." Oh boy... Dr. George: So... what's in the boxes?
(Vacuous smiles and hands one of them over to Number None. He opens it up, and there's the head of Rat Bastard. Only, he's still alive!)
Rott: Hey! What the (BLEEP!)ing (BLEEP!) (BLEEP!) is the big (BLEEP!)ing idea of this (BLEEP!)?
(Number None drops the box in shock, and the head bounces out and leaps around the room)
Rott: Yeah! That's (BLEEP!)n better. Who sicced that crazy (BLEEP!) bitch on me? I'll bite your (BLEEP!)n kneecaps off, you (BLEEP!) (BLEEP!) (BLEEP!)!
Frau: Mien Gott! He reahlly is eendeestrucable!
Number None: (picking up the other box) Ha ha ha. Well, what's in...?
(He opens it... revealing the head of Secret Agent Bear, still wearing a black beret)
Dr. George: (spasming) Oh no! Gosh Darn it, no! You weren't supposed to kill him, too!
(Vacuous shrugs and smiles, holding up a new sign: "Giggle!")
Number None: Don't worry, sir. I've got even more contingency plans. (fiddles with the head)
Dickie: What the heck are doing...?
Number None: Well, I have to admit I was always kind of curious...
(He takes off the bear mask, only to reveal the head of... Vacuous Right-Wing Tart?!?!?)
(A rubber mask falls to the floor. Standing before them is Secret Agent Bear - Vacuous Right-Wing Tart, all along!!)
(And the bear is just not happy...)
***
(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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