Unnamed Porno Fanfic From Shep, Falkenhorst, and Fanboy
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Unnamed Porno Fanfic
Prequel to Chapter 14: You Must Be This Tall To Survive
By Darth Fanboy
Note: This is set prior to the events of Chapter 14
The Ferengi Marauder lay dead in space, its cargo of rare Romulan Fetish Magazines preserved
in the dead of space. Romulans were an abnormally prude bunch, and although they liked to think of
themselves as formidable, they were nothing more than arrogant snobs. Their tastes in pornography
though, were more specific than their counterparts around the rest of the galaxy.
While Romulan porn resembled the Vulcan preference in its seeming blandness, there were many
subtleties that had to be filmed and photographed precisely. The Romulan preference was so
specific, that an errant nipple or ass rimming would mess up the choreography so badly that a Romulan
could lose his entire libido for a planetary cycle. The sheer difficulty in creating authentic Romulan porn
(Only three or four films could be filmed each day per studio rather than the typical sixteen or seventeen)
meant that its value per item was great.
The Gnome cruiser "Ankle Biter" moved in on its target, while its length was a mere 500 meters it had a
crew complement of nearly 1000. Thanks to the gnome's diminutive size, they didn't require immense
ships holding five foot tall giants. An assault shuttle detached from the "Ankle Biter", a sixteen gnome
retrieval squad.
They boarded the derelict ship and immediately began scouring the ship in four groups of four. Teams
Alpha, Beta, Gamma,and Delta. Team Alpha was led by the Mission Commander, Colonel Lilliput. Ferengi
ships often had undocumented and custom designed cargo holds that evaded standard inspections, so it
was important that they cover as much ground as possible before anyone else caught wind of this precious
find. Lilliput's men separated, with orders to report back to the bridge in one standard hour.
Lilliput's team began rummaging through the aft cargo bay, there was absolutely nothing of erotic value in
the hold. Not even any corpses to sell on the Breen market. Things were starting to bother him, and for
an experienced commander only fifty years removed from his father's asshole that was not a good sign.
It was only a few minutes later before the first casualty reports came in.
"This is Gamma Three to Alpha One, we're under att....."
Gamma Three's signal barely got off before the large hammer came down on his head and shattered his
skull with such fury, that shards of his skull sprayed outwards like fragments of a grenade. Gamma Two
was caught standing too close and his eyes were sprayed with sharp pieces of bone. His vision damaged
and face bleeding profusely, he raised a disruptor pistol in the direct the attacker had come from only to
feel it smacked from his hand violently. Two clutched at his eyes and wasn't able to witness his own
demise as he was lifted off the ground and smashed into a bulkhead until he was reduced into a limp
mass of pulp and fluid. Gamma four, trained in the Gnomish Martial Arts since age two, used the ancient
tactic of diving at his enemies boot in an attempt to chew off the appendage. The masked attack lifted
his foot deftly and brought it down on the gnomes spinal column, paralyzing him instantly. His life as an
invalid wouldn't last long, the attacker hefted a flamethrower and before long the gnome was little more
than the putrid stench of burning hair and flesh, as well as smoldering debris. Gamma One's attempt
to flee was halted as a metal spike entered the back of his skull, tearing through gray matter and cartilage
until it protruded through his face. The impact was enough to impale him into a wall.
"Alpha One to Gamma team, come in! Respond immediately"
The attacker grabbed Gamma One's comlink, if he remembered Gnomish procedure properly there
were three other teams of these bastards scrounging the ship. The plan was working perfectly. He
had planted the rumor of the abandoned Ferengi Ship carrying Romulan porn in order to lure out a
Gnomish ship. Now that he had got the Gnome's attention he could use that to his advantage, and
get what he wanted out of this excursion.
Colonel Lilliput was struggling to deal with the loss of Gamma Team. "This is Alpha One to all squads,
Gamma team has been neutralized. Cease all operations and return to the shuttle immediately!" The
pitter patter of Alpha team's feet echoed through the corridors as they hustled to their craft, but Alpha Two
slipped and nearly broke his leg.
"Two, what the fuck is wrong with you."
"Sir, the floor is wet...I slipped."
"Well no shit, I oughta....what in the twelve Gnomish Hells?"
Alpha Two had slipped in a trail of blood, too red to be Ferengi, and emanating with so much evil that it
HAD to be Gnome in nature. Lilliput tried to find the source of the blood and looked upwards, looking
for a vent, but what he saw was the dessicated body of Beta 2 smashed through the ceiling above him,
short little legs dangling lifelessly. Alpha team moved down the hallway and found the rest of Beta team,
piled on top of each other in front of a message scrawled in blood.
"YOU MUST BE THIS TALL TO SURVIVE"
A line was marked in disruptor fire at about 5 feet high, which was well above the maximum threshold for
the standard Gnome.
"Shit! Delta Team respond! Delta team have you encountered the enemy!"
There was no response from Delta team, and how could there be? They were floating dead in space
after being ejected through a garbage compact. Alpha team pressed forward, ready to engage any
enemy. There was an airlock in view and beyond that was their shuttle, and the safety of their ship.
Alpha Four became careless and made a mad dash for the airlock.
"FREE! FREE FROM THIS HELLHOLE WE ARE FINALLY FR....urk"
A nearly invisible wire strung from wall to wall, sharper than any razor, lopped off the head of the poor stupid
Gnome, and it bounced to the floor like a basketball. The expression of surprise on his disembodied head
was comical, except for the fact that it was accompanied by Alpha Four's bowels unloading into his pants.
Alpha Three was just about to attempt to cut the wire when the masked attacker came in from behind and
grabbed his head and lifted him high in the air. Alpha Three tried to fight back but was helpless. Col. Lilliput
and Alpha Two reached for their disruptors but we're unable to do so in time to save Alpha 3. The attacker
squeezed in with his fingers and collapsed his prey's head like an eggshell, the contents spilling to the floor
eerily like a yolk.
The attacked drew a weapon from his back, looking oddly like a boat oar. He swung it and deflected fire
from the disruptors , sending it harmlessly into the walls. As Lilliput ducked for cover Alpha Two charged
forward, the attacker stuck the oar forwards and impaled him. The front flat end of the oar crushing Two's
sternum, separating the bronchial tubes where they joined, and piercing the backbone as it emerged through
his back.
The attacked lifted the oar high in the air as the gnome gasped for breath, and then flung the soon to be
dead Alpha Two towards where Lilliput had ducked into hiding.
"Come out come out little gnome, don't worry, you won't die. I need you alive."
"Fuck you! I'm going to kill you so many times you'll wish you'd never had a growth spurt!"
"Is this that Gnome inferiority complex coming to light? Well it seems you're a textbook case. At any rate,
if you won't come out, I'll have to just force you out."
Lilliput remained just around the corner of the hallway. The corridor was a T intersection with the airlock
entrance where the two hallways joined. The attacker would not be able to get to Lilliput without coming into
his point of view and being hit by disruptor fire, all he had to do was aim carefully so he couldn't deflect the
beam. There were two choices, wait out this encounter and go for the kill, or take off running and find a place
to hide until his ship sent in rescuers.
But then in the back of his mind he heard it, the calling. All gnomes responded to it, it was the call made by
the leader when it was time to gather, the sound all gnomes knew by heart from birth. And it was coming
from where his attacker had been! His master had come to save him! He stepped around the bend.
The attacker grinned, he had paid a small fortune for the Gnome Syren. A small mechanical device that
replicated the call of Darth Garden Gnome and could lure gnomes out of hiding, but only at short distances.
The dreamy eyed Col. Lilliput emerged from hiding and was knocked unconscious by a well timed roundhouse
kick. The attacker pulled a roll of duct tape from his belt and opened the airlock, where he had placed a large
coffin sized device.
[10 minutes later]
The crew of the "Ankle Biter" had received no signal and were about to send in a strike team when they finally
received a non-audio transmission from Col. Lilliput's comlink. "Porn acquired, returning to base."
The shuttle launched towards the "Ankle Biter" but went slightly off course and had to be recovered and tractored
into a shuttle bay at the heart of the ship. Gnome technicians opened the ship expecting to find valuable cargo
but instead found Col. Lilliput duct taped to a large blinking crate.
"What the fuck is that?" said a technician right before the bomb went off.
Light years away aboard his custom craft "Reason for Pleasin'" Fanboy cackled as he watched the "Ankle Biter"
explode from long range. A victory, but inconsequential, as he had already set a course for the gnomish asteroid
headquarters. Normally it was suicidal to fuck with the gnomes on their own turf, but a big meeting was scheduled and
infiltration would be much easier. And then he'd finally have his chance for ultimate victory, and maybe he'd even make
some money out of it too.
Prequel to Chapter 14: You Must Be This Tall To Survive
By Darth Fanboy
Note: This is set prior to the events of Chapter 14
The Ferengi Marauder lay dead in space, its cargo of rare Romulan Fetish Magazines preserved
in the dead of space. Romulans were an abnormally prude bunch, and although they liked to think of
themselves as formidable, they were nothing more than arrogant snobs. Their tastes in pornography
though, were more specific than their counterparts around the rest of the galaxy.
While Romulan porn resembled the Vulcan preference in its seeming blandness, there were many
subtleties that had to be filmed and photographed precisely. The Romulan preference was so
specific, that an errant nipple or ass rimming would mess up the choreography so badly that a Romulan
could lose his entire libido for a planetary cycle. The sheer difficulty in creating authentic Romulan porn
(Only three or four films could be filmed each day per studio rather than the typical sixteen or seventeen)
meant that its value per item was great.
The Gnome cruiser "Ankle Biter" moved in on its target, while its length was a mere 500 meters it had a
crew complement of nearly 1000. Thanks to the gnome's diminutive size, they didn't require immense
ships holding five foot tall giants. An assault shuttle detached from the "Ankle Biter", a sixteen gnome
retrieval squad.
They boarded the derelict ship and immediately began scouring the ship in four groups of four. Teams
Alpha, Beta, Gamma,and Delta. Team Alpha was led by the Mission Commander, Colonel Lilliput. Ferengi
ships often had undocumented and custom designed cargo holds that evaded standard inspections, so it
was important that they cover as much ground as possible before anyone else caught wind of this precious
find. Lilliput's men separated, with orders to report back to the bridge in one standard hour.
Lilliput's team began rummaging through the aft cargo bay, there was absolutely nothing of erotic value in
the hold. Not even any corpses to sell on the Breen market. Things were starting to bother him, and for
an experienced commander only fifty years removed from his father's asshole that was not a good sign.
It was only a few minutes later before the first casualty reports came in.
"This is Gamma Three to Alpha One, we're under att....."
Gamma Three's signal barely got off before the large hammer came down on his head and shattered his
skull with such fury, that shards of his skull sprayed outwards like fragments of a grenade. Gamma Two
was caught standing too close and his eyes were sprayed with sharp pieces of bone. His vision damaged
and face bleeding profusely, he raised a disruptor pistol in the direct the attacker had come from only to
feel it smacked from his hand violently. Two clutched at his eyes and wasn't able to witness his own
demise as he was lifted off the ground and smashed into a bulkhead until he was reduced into a limp
mass of pulp and fluid. Gamma four, trained in the Gnomish Martial Arts since age two, used the ancient
tactic of diving at his enemies boot in an attempt to chew off the appendage. The masked attack lifted
his foot deftly and brought it down on the gnomes spinal column, paralyzing him instantly. His life as an
invalid wouldn't last long, the attacker hefted a flamethrower and before long the gnome was little more
than the putrid stench of burning hair and flesh, as well as smoldering debris. Gamma One's attempt
to flee was halted as a metal spike entered the back of his skull, tearing through gray matter and cartilage
until it protruded through his face. The impact was enough to impale him into a wall.
"Alpha One to Gamma team, come in! Respond immediately"
The attacker grabbed Gamma One's comlink, if he remembered Gnomish procedure properly there
were three other teams of these bastards scrounging the ship. The plan was working perfectly. He
had planted the rumor of the abandoned Ferengi Ship carrying Romulan porn in order to lure out a
Gnomish ship. Now that he had got the Gnome's attention he could use that to his advantage, and
get what he wanted out of this excursion.
Colonel Lilliput was struggling to deal with the loss of Gamma Team. "This is Alpha One to all squads,
Gamma team has been neutralized. Cease all operations and return to the shuttle immediately!" The
pitter patter of Alpha team's feet echoed through the corridors as they hustled to their craft, but Alpha Two
slipped and nearly broke his leg.
"Two, what the fuck is wrong with you."
"Sir, the floor is wet...I slipped."
"Well no shit, I oughta....what in the twelve Gnomish Hells?"
Alpha Two had slipped in a trail of blood, too red to be Ferengi, and emanating with so much evil that it
HAD to be Gnome in nature. Lilliput tried to find the source of the blood and looked upwards, looking
for a vent, but what he saw was the dessicated body of Beta 2 smashed through the ceiling above him,
short little legs dangling lifelessly. Alpha team moved down the hallway and found the rest of Beta team,
piled on top of each other in front of a message scrawled in blood.
"YOU MUST BE THIS TALL TO SURVIVE"
A line was marked in disruptor fire at about 5 feet high, which was well above the maximum threshold for
the standard Gnome.
"Shit! Delta Team respond! Delta team have you encountered the enemy!"
There was no response from Delta team, and how could there be? They were floating dead in space
after being ejected through a garbage compact. Alpha team pressed forward, ready to engage any
enemy. There was an airlock in view and beyond that was their shuttle, and the safety of their ship.
Alpha Four became careless and made a mad dash for the airlock.
"FREE! FREE FROM THIS HELLHOLE WE ARE FINALLY FR....urk"
A nearly invisible wire strung from wall to wall, sharper than any razor, lopped off the head of the poor stupid
Gnome, and it bounced to the floor like a basketball. The expression of surprise on his disembodied head
was comical, except for the fact that it was accompanied by Alpha Four's bowels unloading into his pants.
Alpha Three was just about to attempt to cut the wire when the masked attacker came in from behind and
grabbed his head and lifted him high in the air. Alpha Three tried to fight back but was helpless. Col. Lilliput
and Alpha Two reached for their disruptors but we're unable to do so in time to save Alpha 3. The attacker
squeezed in with his fingers and collapsed his prey's head like an eggshell, the contents spilling to the floor
eerily like a yolk.
The attacked drew a weapon from his back, looking oddly like a boat oar. He swung it and deflected fire
from the disruptors , sending it harmlessly into the walls. As Lilliput ducked for cover Alpha Two charged
forward, the attacker stuck the oar forwards and impaled him. The front flat end of the oar crushing Two's
sternum, separating the bronchial tubes where they joined, and piercing the backbone as it emerged through
his back.
The attacked lifted the oar high in the air as the gnome gasped for breath, and then flung the soon to be
dead Alpha Two towards where Lilliput had ducked into hiding.
"Come out come out little gnome, don't worry, you won't die. I need you alive."
"Fuck you! I'm going to kill you so many times you'll wish you'd never had a growth spurt!"
"Is this that Gnome inferiority complex coming to light? Well it seems you're a textbook case. At any rate,
if you won't come out, I'll have to just force you out."
Lilliput remained just around the corner of the hallway. The corridor was a T intersection with the airlock
entrance where the two hallways joined. The attacker would not be able to get to Lilliput without coming into
his point of view and being hit by disruptor fire, all he had to do was aim carefully so he couldn't deflect the
beam. There were two choices, wait out this encounter and go for the kill, or take off running and find a place
to hide until his ship sent in rescuers.
But then in the back of his mind he heard it, the calling. All gnomes responded to it, it was the call made by
the leader when it was time to gather, the sound all gnomes knew by heart from birth. And it was coming
from where his attacker had been! His master had come to save him! He stepped around the bend.
The attacker grinned, he had paid a small fortune for the Gnome Syren. A small mechanical device that
replicated the call of Darth Garden Gnome and could lure gnomes out of hiding, but only at short distances.
The dreamy eyed Col. Lilliput emerged from hiding and was knocked unconscious by a well timed roundhouse
kick. The attacker pulled a roll of duct tape from his belt and opened the airlock, where he had placed a large
coffin sized device.
[10 minutes later]
The crew of the "Ankle Biter" had received no signal and were about to send in a strike team when they finally
received a non-audio transmission from Col. Lilliput's comlink. "Porn acquired, returning to base."
The shuttle launched towards the "Ankle Biter" but went slightly off course and had to be recovered and tractored
into a shuttle bay at the heart of the ship. Gnome technicians opened the ship expecting to find valuable cargo
but instead found Col. Lilliput duct taped to a large blinking crate.
"What the fuck is that?" said a technician right before the bomb went off.
Light years away aboard his custom craft "Reason for Pleasin'" Fanboy cackled as he watched the "Ankle Biter"
explode from long range. A victory, but inconsequential, as he had already set a course for the gnomish asteroid
headquarters. Normally it was suicidal to fuck with the gnomes on their own turf, but a big meeting was scheduled and
infiltration would be much easier. And then he'd finally have his chance for ultimate victory, and maybe he'd even make
some money out of it too.
"If scientists and inventors who develop disease cures and useful technologies don't get lifetime royalties, I'd like to know what fucking rationale you have for some guy getting lifetime royalties for writing an episode of Full House." - Mike Wong
"The present air situation in the Pacific is entirely the result of fighting a fifth rate air power." - U.S. Navy Memo - 24 July 1944
"The present air situation in the Pacific is entirely the result of fighting a fifth rate air power." - U.S. Navy Memo - 24 July 1944
-
MKSheppard
- Ruthless Genocidal Warmonger
- Posts: 29842
- Joined: 2002-07-06 06:34pm
There are lots of them arround, the Gnomes shall never die!Ace Pace wrote:ARGH, your killing us!
"If scientists and inventors who develop disease cures and useful technologies don't get lifetime royalties, I'd like to know what fucking rationale you have for some guy getting lifetime royalties for writing an episode of Full House." - Mike Wong
"The present air situation in the Pacific is entirely the result of fighting a fifth rate air power." - U.S. Navy Memo - 24 July 1944
"The present air situation in the Pacific is entirely the result of fighting a fifth rate air power." - U.S. Navy Memo - 24 July 1944
-
Sea Skimmer
- Yankee Capitalist Air Pirate
- Posts: 37389
- Joined: 2002-07-03 11:49pm
- Location: Passchendaele City, HAB
Cannon are hardly necessary for the slaughtering of gnomes; rifle caliber machine guns are more then sufficient.Kuja wrote:What do you expect? Gnomes are cannon fodder.
"This cult of special forces is as sensible as to form a Royal Corps of Tree Climbers and say that no soldier who does not wear its green hat with a bunch of oak leaves stuck in it should be expected to climb a tree"
— Field Marshal William Slim 1956
— Field Marshal William Slim 1956
-
The Yosemite Bear
- Mostly Harmless Nutcase (Requiescat in Pace)
- Posts: 35211
- Joined: 2002-07-21 02:38am
- Location: Dave's Not Here Man
-
Darth Fanboy
- DUH! WINNING!
- Posts: 11182
- Joined: 2002-09-20 05:25am
- Location: Mars, where I am a totally bitchin' rockstar.
I couldn't let this stagnate. So I fiured I'd add in a short chapter of my own.
UPF: Chapter 16
The Butt of the Hutt is the Passage to the Gutt
by Darth Fanboy with input from Falkenhorst
[God damnit it hurts! How much longer to we have to do this doc?!?!?]
The gurgling Hutt words rolled from Jabba's tongue followed by a trail of obscenities that would make even the most corpulent crime boss on Nal Hutta put down their appetizers. Jabba hadn't been feeling well recently, his appetite was far lower than what it usually was and he was rather sluggish. For a bloated slug, it takes a lot to feel sluggish.
A doctor specializing in Hutt Physiology had been called in from the Core Worlds and determined that the only way to determine the problem was to go inside Jabba's digestive tract and take a look. The immense size of a prestigious Hutt Clan Leader meant that anesthesia was not a safe option, as an overdoes could kill, especially when coupled with Jabba's notable addictions to spice and alcohol. So the doctor was forced to proceed with the examination, which included a full colonoscopy, while Jabba was completely lucid. Jabba at first rejected the notion that anything was wrong and he was very adamant that nothing would go in his beloved asshole. That is until he went a week without taking a shit and the pressure inside of his body bnuilt up to volatile levels. Bib Fortuna had the foresight to evacuate the palace except for essential workers, droids, and slaves while calling the doctor to make the arrangements.
But complications were arising for Dr. Asdo Rotcs , each time the doctor used one of his colon-scouring camera droids and sent it into the bowels, it would encounter some sort of interference and then the feed would stop. He had lost three of the meter long droids already and Jabba was beginning to grow impatient.
[The next time you shove one of those things up my ass it had better work or you're done for!]
Asdo complied, fortunate that the Hutt's own smell overpowered the urine-drenched hazard suit he was wearing. "Mess with a Bantha and you get the horns," someone had once told him, "Mess with a Hutt and you get the Butt." No one knows the true origins of that phrase but it likely had to do with Hutt criminals hiding corpses or disciplining underlings by inserting them into the lower tracts of their bowels, expelling them when sufficient time had passed, or along with feces when the next meal came through.
He swathed the camera-carrying head of the droid, a Bu-66R Deep Rectal Assistant, in Dewback Lard, which was the only suitable lubricant availiable to him in the quantities he required. The droid emitted various pules of low power electicity to numb the nevers in the intestines to prevent Jabba's own reflexes from smashing the machine. Navigating trhough the dark tunnel wasn't difficult, but it was tedious as Jabba's backed up digestion had flooded his insides with a disgusting viscerous fluid, indicating some failure in the stomach to properly process all of the toxic substances Hutts considered delicacies. After aboput a half hour of navigating the droid had reached the point where the previous one had been cut off. Along with a half eaten rack of ribs, and what appeared to be a human foot, lay the crumpled debris of the previous three droids. There was a silhouette in the depths beyond the wreckage, and without warning it dashed towards the camera droid and reached out to it, crushing it violently. Jabba roared in pain again but fortunately the searing pain in is ass kept him from crushing the doctor with his tail.
[I thought I told you that if that droid didn't work I would...!]
"Wait mighty Jabba! The droid might have failed but I am now able to properly diagnose your condition!"
Asdo though this would be the hard part. Hutts had fewer diseases than most species but of the ones they did suffer from almost all of them were accompanied by constipation and a loss of appetite. After reviewing the footage from the fourth Bu-66R and re-evaluating the mysterious shadow within Jabba's bowels, he had his answer.
"Great Jabba, the reason for your discomfort and for the destruction of the droids is now clear. You have a parasite."
[But how, I haven't eaten any kind of corpse or festering moldy food for weeks!]
"I am uncertain, but the only way to remove a parasite of that size given your medical condition will be to send someone in there to destroy it."
[Send someone in? Are you crazy? We're talking about my beloved starfish here, even I wouldn't go in there!]
"Nevertheless it is the only way, normally I or one of your Bounty Hunters could go in there and root it out but your lack of food has dilated the width of your intestines to smaller than average levels."
[Then what the hell am I supposed to do, you think I'm just going to train an Ewok to crawl through my butthole, seek out the most dangerous parasite thats ever lived in my tract, and kill it?]
"An Ewok would make sense, perhaps the furry hairs could trigger a bowel movement and release some of the pressure. But this creature appears to be beyond their combat capability. I could talk to some of my med techs and see if I can't design a droid that could..."
[No, no more droids, i've had enough mechinical toys and tools up my ass for one lifetime.]
"Then it will have to be a bounty hunter then, I know of a few who have experience in..."
[Heeeeelllll no! This can't leave the palace. If word got out that the great Jabba got sick and had to have a stranger crawl up his ass to save his life i'd be the laughing stock of the underworld!]
"Well I don't know what else to tell you, you need to find someone small enough to fit in there without rupturing the lining yet strong enough to combat whatever is pillaging your insides."
[If you use the word pillage to describe my constipation one more time I will feed you to the rancor, and you can pillage its insides!]
Dr. Asdo gulped and tried to think. Jabba's callous disregard for life was...that was it!
"What about one of your underlings?"
[I command great respect around here, you think that any of these lowlifes, scumbags, and filthy urchins are going to follow me if one of them as been up my ass and lived to tell about it?]
"Who said they had to live to tell about it?"
Jabba pondered the words for a moment and let out a hearty Hutt laugh, like a perverted Santa Claus hiding in a girls locker room.
[Ho Ho Ho, I like the way you think doc! Mention to my esteemed Majordomo outside that I require one of my more disposable assets, and make sure he fits your specifications.]
Asod breathed a sigh of relief, he had saved his own life. But he had just condemned someone to die. Either within the dark depths of Jabba's ass, or after miraculously surviving the procedure and defeating the horrible beast within.
If you know of a suitable candidate to partake this particular mission please write to us at. "Unnamed Porno Fanfic, P.O. Box 666, Trenton NJ. Or contact Darth Fanboy.
UPF: Chapter 16
The Butt of the Hutt is the Passage to the Gutt
by Darth Fanboy with input from Falkenhorst
[God damnit it hurts! How much longer to we have to do this doc?!?!?]
The gurgling Hutt words rolled from Jabba's tongue followed by a trail of obscenities that would make even the most corpulent crime boss on Nal Hutta put down their appetizers. Jabba hadn't been feeling well recently, his appetite was far lower than what it usually was and he was rather sluggish. For a bloated slug, it takes a lot to feel sluggish.
A doctor specializing in Hutt Physiology had been called in from the Core Worlds and determined that the only way to determine the problem was to go inside Jabba's digestive tract and take a look. The immense size of a prestigious Hutt Clan Leader meant that anesthesia was not a safe option, as an overdoes could kill, especially when coupled with Jabba's notable addictions to spice and alcohol. So the doctor was forced to proceed with the examination, which included a full colonoscopy, while Jabba was completely lucid. Jabba at first rejected the notion that anything was wrong and he was very adamant that nothing would go in his beloved asshole. That is until he went a week without taking a shit and the pressure inside of his body bnuilt up to volatile levels. Bib Fortuna had the foresight to evacuate the palace except for essential workers, droids, and slaves while calling the doctor to make the arrangements.
But complications were arising for Dr. Asdo Rotcs , each time the doctor used one of his colon-scouring camera droids and sent it into the bowels, it would encounter some sort of interference and then the feed would stop. He had lost three of the meter long droids already and Jabba was beginning to grow impatient.
[The next time you shove one of those things up my ass it had better work or you're done for!]
Asdo complied, fortunate that the Hutt's own smell overpowered the urine-drenched hazard suit he was wearing. "Mess with a Bantha and you get the horns," someone had once told him, "Mess with a Hutt and you get the Butt." No one knows the true origins of that phrase but it likely had to do with Hutt criminals hiding corpses or disciplining underlings by inserting them into the lower tracts of their bowels, expelling them when sufficient time had passed, or along with feces when the next meal came through.
He swathed the camera-carrying head of the droid, a Bu-66R Deep Rectal Assistant, in Dewback Lard, which was the only suitable lubricant availiable to him in the quantities he required. The droid emitted various pules of low power electicity to numb the nevers in the intestines to prevent Jabba's own reflexes from smashing the machine. Navigating trhough the dark tunnel wasn't difficult, but it was tedious as Jabba's backed up digestion had flooded his insides with a disgusting viscerous fluid, indicating some failure in the stomach to properly process all of the toxic substances Hutts considered delicacies. After aboput a half hour of navigating the droid had reached the point where the previous one had been cut off. Along with a half eaten rack of ribs, and what appeared to be a human foot, lay the crumpled debris of the previous three droids. There was a silhouette in the depths beyond the wreckage, and without warning it dashed towards the camera droid and reached out to it, crushing it violently. Jabba roared in pain again but fortunately the searing pain in is ass kept him from crushing the doctor with his tail.
[I thought I told you that if that droid didn't work I would...!]
"Wait mighty Jabba! The droid might have failed but I am now able to properly diagnose your condition!"
Asdo though this would be the hard part. Hutts had fewer diseases than most species but of the ones they did suffer from almost all of them were accompanied by constipation and a loss of appetite. After reviewing the footage from the fourth Bu-66R and re-evaluating the mysterious shadow within Jabba's bowels, he had his answer.
"Great Jabba, the reason for your discomfort and for the destruction of the droids is now clear. You have a parasite."
[But how, I haven't eaten any kind of corpse or festering moldy food for weeks!]
"I am uncertain, but the only way to remove a parasite of that size given your medical condition will be to send someone in there to destroy it."
[Send someone in? Are you crazy? We're talking about my beloved starfish here, even I wouldn't go in there!]
"Nevertheless it is the only way, normally I or one of your Bounty Hunters could go in there and root it out but your lack of food has dilated the width of your intestines to smaller than average levels."
[Then what the hell am I supposed to do, you think I'm just going to train an Ewok to crawl through my butthole, seek out the most dangerous parasite thats ever lived in my tract, and kill it?]
"An Ewok would make sense, perhaps the furry hairs could trigger a bowel movement and release some of the pressure. But this creature appears to be beyond their combat capability. I could talk to some of my med techs and see if I can't design a droid that could..."
[No, no more droids, i've had enough mechinical toys and tools up my ass for one lifetime.]
"Then it will have to be a bounty hunter then, I know of a few who have experience in..."
[Heeeeelllll no! This can't leave the palace. If word got out that the great Jabba got sick and had to have a stranger crawl up his ass to save his life i'd be the laughing stock of the underworld!]
"Well I don't know what else to tell you, you need to find someone small enough to fit in there without rupturing the lining yet strong enough to combat whatever is pillaging your insides."
[If you use the word pillage to describe my constipation one more time I will feed you to the rancor, and you can pillage its insides!]
Dr. Asdo gulped and tried to think. Jabba's callous disregard for life was...that was it!
"What about one of your underlings?"
[I command great respect around here, you think that any of these lowlifes, scumbags, and filthy urchins are going to follow me if one of them as been up my ass and lived to tell about it?]
"Who said they had to live to tell about it?"
Jabba pondered the words for a moment and let out a hearty Hutt laugh, like a perverted Santa Claus hiding in a girls locker room.
[Ho Ho Ho, I like the way you think doc! Mention to my esteemed Majordomo outside that I require one of my more disposable assets, and make sure he fits your specifications.]
Asod breathed a sigh of relief, he had saved his own life. But he had just condemned someone to die. Either within the dark depths of Jabba's ass, or after miraculously surviving the procedure and defeating the horrible beast within.
If you know of a suitable candidate to partake this particular mission please write to us at. "Unnamed Porno Fanfic, P.O. Box 666, Trenton NJ. Or contact Darth Fanboy.
"If it's true that our species is alone in the universe, then I'd have to say that the universe aimed rather low and settled for very little."
-George Carlin (1937-2008)
"Have some of you Americans actually seen Football? Of course there are 0-0 draws but that doesn't make them any less exciting."
-Dr Roberts, with quite possibly the dumbest thing ever said in 10 years of SDNet.
-George Carlin (1937-2008)
"Have some of you Americans actually seen Football? Of course there are 0-0 draws but that doesn't make them any less exciting."
-Dr Roberts, with quite possibly the dumbest thing ever said in 10 years of SDNet.
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Darth Fanboy
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Chapter 16 Part II: FantASStic Voyage
"You mean Jabba has personally selected ME for this assignment!"
The short human mercenary/bounty hunter was stunned, ever since he had come to Tatooine in search of dangerous and exciting assignments he had been relegated to "bitch" status by the other hunters and the palace guards. If it wasn't the same old derogatory human jokes, it was the same old derogatory short jokes. Brian Eyci wasn't a small man by any means, he could beat any Jawa in a game of basketball, butt in a society dominated by the ever fattening Hutts, small just didn't cut it. However, through some miracle, he was getting his chance.
"Jabba has decreed that you are to be the one to assist him in this matter of... great importance."
Bib Fortunate gave the typical Twi'lek toothy grin, for different reasons though than it appaeared. Jabba required a sacrificial nerf to destroy the parasite roaming his intestines, and the human merc Brian Eyci was the only one small enough to fit inside Jabba's shrunken digestive tract. He was also a clown, during one regrettable episode he stumbled and accidentally droped a thermal detonator into the rancor pit. The entire palace should have been obliterated, but the detonator had only been a casing. Brian Eyci carried it around from time to time to show it off and so he could gain leverage. The accident however cost him most of his weapon privileges within the palace, and in Jabba's establishments in Mos Espa. Brian Eyci was not allowed on palace grounds with anything more than a stun stick and a small holdout blaster.
If Brian Eyci failed, which he was likely to do, the Bib Fortuna would become master of Jabba's domain. Tatooine would become his as would vast fortunes.
Brian Eyci was thrilled to death just to have any sort of assignment, he'd have done it pro bono in a heartbeat even if it was his only way of earning prestige, but this was too easy. Drawing upon his sublime negotiating skills, he took the first steps that would one day earn him a fortune.
"I'd like to discuss my fee."
Bib Fortuna sighed, this was a huge breach of etiquette for the 'bitch' hunter to initiate talks like that. But what did it matter? He was going to die the most gruesome death imaginable in the galaxy anyway.
"Wha, oh sure. How does say, five thousand credits sound?"
Brian Eyci was taken aback, five thousand would buy him some great new toys to play with, or maybe a ship! Boba Fett was always getting tail because of Slave I, so why couldn't he? But no, he was in control here, Jabba had need of his talents and his talents wouldnt come cheaply.
"Make it five thousand and fifty, this is the premier league you are dealing with not some rookie."
Fortuna suppresed a chortle, this guy was too much.
"Five thousand and ten it is."
"And I want my weapons privileges back."
Fortuna nearly choked, there was still the miniscule risk Brian Eyci could succeed.
"That I cannot do."
Brian Eyci sneered at Fortuna, stewing like an eight year old who had his legos taken away from him. Boba Fett always got tail, holding out his rifle, or his madaloria repeater, or whatever new toy he had taken from some Imperial Armory. If Boba Fett could get tail from carrying around blasters, so could he.
"You drive a hard bargain Fortuna, you are a credit to your Twi'lek species. Then at least rescind the ban on blaster rifles, I'll stow grenades on the new ship i'm going to buy with my five thousand and ten credits."
"...Fine, whatever."
Brian Eyci had done it! he had outwitted the infamous Bib Fortuna at the negotiating table! A Twi'lek! This made up for the 'Boba Fett' motivation tapes he bought on Ryloth, the Twi'lek had lied however, it wasn't Boba Fett's voice at all on those tapes!
"Then we have a deal, I thank you for the..."
"Shut up you idiot, follow me."
The two descended into the lower layers of the palace and Towards a private chamber Jabba's personal physcian had used until his untimely death during a physical, nobody tells Jabba to turn and cough. The room was set up as a miniature Hutt hospital.
Lying on the large repulsor couch-turned-gurney in the center of the room was a near lifeless Jabba, who lay on his belly while a pulley suspended the back part of his tail in the ir, allowing for access to his starfish. Jabba's eyes appeared to be completely frozen, when suddenly his head sprang to life in fear and anger.
[YOU BROUGHT HIM IN HERE! FORTUNA YOU IDIOT!]
"He is the only one of your soldiers who fits those special requirements you and I discussed..."
Jabba thought it over for a few minutes, he wanted to object, slide off the couch, and crush Fortuna into a fine paste. But time was running short, and the folds in Jabba's fat were receeding, a multitude of misplaced snack foods and dead animals were now steadily falling from his shrinking girth.
[Did you at least check him for explosives?]
"Yes, he will only take in there what the good Dr. Asdo gives him to accomplish the task."
[Then...it is time...*sob*]
Brian Eyci was absolutely confused as Dr. Asdo approached him.
"So you are the one who is going in there hmmm? Well you look about right, now hurry up and get into the hazard suit, Jabba is running out of time."
"Out of time? What in the seven sith circles of hell do you want me to do?"
"Jabba is dying, an intestinal parastite has taken control of his stomach functions, you have to go in there and kill it."
"You gotta be fucking kidding me."
Asdo pointed to Jabba's lifted tail, and the swelling pink and red flesh hole at the base underneath.
"You see that? That's the asshole of a constipated Hutt. The shit has begun to coagulate in the rectum, it is just dense enough to blockflow but you can still crawl through it with a hazard suit on. We'll partially unfold the sphincter with a mild local anesthetic, enough so you can slip through to seek out and find what is killing Jabba."
Brian Eyci vomited into his mouth, then swalled it back down. It tasted very sour, but with a very sweet aftertaste that reminded him of mangoes. This was a ludicrous assignment, but then again five thosuand and ten credits was a ludicrous amount of money. And then there was prestige, Bib Fortuna had mentioned special qualities. Brian Eyci was the only one who could do it, Boba Fett even couldn't.
If Boba Fett could get tail serving Jabba the Hutt, so could he.
Dr. Asdo began applying the local anesthetic and Jabba's ass relaxed slightly, a small slow trickle of poo not unlike jelly on a downward slope began to leak out, but not even a slight fraction of the amount required to ease Jabba's pain. Brian Eyci started by inserting his leg, but the Doctor admonished him.
"It's going to be a tight passage until you reach the stomach, you'll have to crawl headfirst to the target."
It was a tight fit at first but it was made easier by the heavily lubricated helmet provided by the doctor. A modified stormtrooper helmet with a visual feed not unlike the colonoscopy droids used earlier. He gently pried open the passage further and his entire head was in. Bib Fortuna walked out of the room to avoid Jabba's displeasure as he began cackling maniacally, the sight of Brian Eyci with his head up Jabba's as to hilarious to ever forget.
Brian Eyci tired to ease his arms in, but his stun stick accidentally came loose from his belt and hit Jabba's balls, causing a reflex in the leviathan slug. The sphincter tightened around Brian Eyci's neck and he began to choke! Thinking on his feet, Dr. Asdo grabbed a large rib spreader and jammed it in, using it to pry open the asshole, and maintain the loosening effect of the local anesthetic.
Brian Eyci caught his breath and began squirming through the mud filled bowels. Despite the nearly claustrophobic situation, he couldn't help the feeling that he was being watched...
"You mean Jabba has personally selected ME for this assignment!"
The short human mercenary/bounty hunter was stunned, ever since he had come to Tatooine in search of dangerous and exciting assignments he had been relegated to "bitch" status by the other hunters and the palace guards. If it wasn't the same old derogatory human jokes, it was the same old derogatory short jokes. Brian Eyci wasn't a small man by any means, he could beat any Jawa in a game of basketball, butt in a society dominated by the ever fattening Hutts, small just didn't cut it. However, through some miracle, he was getting his chance.
"Jabba has decreed that you are to be the one to assist him in this matter of... great importance."
Bib Fortunate gave the typical Twi'lek toothy grin, for different reasons though than it appaeared. Jabba required a sacrificial nerf to destroy the parasite roaming his intestines, and the human merc Brian Eyci was the only one small enough to fit inside Jabba's shrunken digestive tract. He was also a clown, during one regrettable episode he stumbled and accidentally droped a thermal detonator into the rancor pit. The entire palace should have been obliterated, but the detonator had only been a casing. Brian Eyci carried it around from time to time to show it off and so he could gain leverage. The accident however cost him most of his weapon privileges within the palace, and in Jabba's establishments in Mos Espa. Brian Eyci was not allowed on palace grounds with anything more than a stun stick and a small holdout blaster.
If Brian Eyci failed, which he was likely to do, the Bib Fortuna would become master of Jabba's domain. Tatooine would become his as would vast fortunes.
Brian Eyci was thrilled to death just to have any sort of assignment, he'd have done it pro bono in a heartbeat even if it was his only way of earning prestige, but this was too easy. Drawing upon his sublime negotiating skills, he took the first steps that would one day earn him a fortune.
"I'd like to discuss my fee."
Bib Fortuna sighed, this was a huge breach of etiquette for the 'bitch' hunter to initiate talks like that. But what did it matter? He was going to die the most gruesome death imaginable in the galaxy anyway.
"Wha, oh sure. How does say, five thousand credits sound?"
Brian Eyci was taken aback, five thousand would buy him some great new toys to play with, or maybe a ship! Boba Fett was always getting tail because of Slave I, so why couldn't he? But no, he was in control here, Jabba had need of his talents and his talents wouldnt come cheaply.
"Make it five thousand and fifty, this is the premier league you are dealing with not some rookie."
Fortuna suppresed a chortle, this guy was too much.
"Five thousand and ten it is."
"And I want my weapons privileges back."
Fortuna nearly choked, there was still the miniscule risk Brian Eyci could succeed.
"That I cannot do."
Brian Eyci sneered at Fortuna, stewing like an eight year old who had his legos taken away from him. Boba Fett always got tail, holding out his rifle, or his madaloria repeater, or whatever new toy he had taken from some Imperial Armory. If Boba Fett could get tail from carrying around blasters, so could he.
"You drive a hard bargain Fortuna, you are a credit to your Twi'lek species. Then at least rescind the ban on blaster rifles, I'll stow grenades on the new ship i'm going to buy with my five thousand and ten credits."
"...Fine, whatever."
Brian Eyci had done it! he had outwitted the infamous Bib Fortuna at the negotiating table! A Twi'lek! This made up for the 'Boba Fett' motivation tapes he bought on Ryloth, the Twi'lek had lied however, it wasn't Boba Fett's voice at all on those tapes!
"Then we have a deal, I thank you for the..."
"Shut up you idiot, follow me."
The two descended into the lower layers of the palace and Towards a private chamber Jabba's personal physcian had used until his untimely death during a physical, nobody tells Jabba to turn and cough. The room was set up as a miniature Hutt hospital.
Lying on the large repulsor couch-turned-gurney in the center of the room was a near lifeless Jabba, who lay on his belly while a pulley suspended the back part of his tail in the ir, allowing for access to his starfish. Jabba's eyes appeared to be completely frozen, when suddenly his head sprang to life in fear and anger.
[YOU BROUGHT HIM IN HERE! FORTUNA YOU IDIOT!]
"He is the only one of your soldiers who fits those special requirements you and I discussed..."
Jabba thought it over for a few minutes, he wanted to object, slide off the couch, and crush Fortuna into a fine paste. But time was running short, and the folds in Jabba's fat were receeding, a multitude of misplaced snack foods and dead animals were now steadily falling from his shrinking girth.
[Did you at least check him for explosives?]
"Yes, he will only take in there what the good Dr. Asdo gives him to accomplish the task."
[Then...it is time...*sob*]
Brian Eyci was absolutely confused as Dr. Asdo approached him.
"So you are the one who is going in there hmmm? Well you look about right, now hurry up and get into the hazard suit, Jabba is running out of time."
"Out of time? What in the seven sith circles of hell do you want me to do?"
"Jabba is dying, an intestinal parastite has taken control of his stomach functions, you have to go in there and kill it."
"You gotta be fucking kidding me."
Asdo pointed to Jabba's lifted tail, and the swelling pink and red flesh hole at the base underneath.
"You see that? That's the asshole of a constipated Hutt. The shit has begun to coagulate in the rectum, it is just dense enough to blockflow but you can still crawl through it with a hazard suit on. We'll partially unfold the sphincter with a mild local anesthetic, enough so you can slip through to seek out and find what is killing Jabba."
Brian Eyci vomited into his mouth, then swalled it back down. It tasted very sour, but with a very sweet aftertaste that reminded him of mangoes. This was a ludicrous assignment, but then again five thosuand and ten credits was a ludicrous amount of money. And then there was prestige, Bib Fortuna had mentioned special qualities. Brian Eyci was the only one who could do it, Boba Fett even couldn't.
If Boba Fett could get tail serving Jabba the Hutt, so could he.
Dr. Asdo began applying the local anesthetic and Jabba's ass relaxed slightly, a small slow trickle of poo not unlike jelly on a downward slope began to leak out, but not even a slight fraction of the amount required to ease Jabba's pain. Brian Eyci started by inserting his leg, but the Doctor admonished him.
"It's going to be a tight passage until you reach the stomach, you'll have to crawl headfirst to the target."
It was a tight fit at first but it was made easier by the heavily lubricated helmet provided by the doctor. A modified stormtrooper helmet with a visual feed not unlike the colonoscopy droids used earlier. He gently pried open the passage further and his entire head was in. Bib Fortuna walked out of the room to avoid Jabba's displeasure as he began cackling maniacally, the sight of Brian Eyci with his head up Jabba's as to hilarious to ever forget.
Brian Eyci tired to ease his arms in, but his stun stick accidentally came loose from his belt and hit Jabba's balls, causing a reflex in the leviathan slug. The sphincter tightened around Brian Eyci's neck and he began to choke! Thinking on his feet, Dr. Asdo grabbed a large rib spreader and jammed it in, using it to pry open the asshole, and maintain the loosening effect of the local anesthetic.
Brian Eyci caught his breath and began squirming through the mud filled bowels. Despite the nearly claustrophobic situation, he couldn't help the feeling that he was being watched...
Last edited by Darth Fanboy on 2008-05-13 01:40pm, edited 2 times in total.
"If it's true that our species is alone in the universe, then I'd have to say that the universe aimed rather low and settled for very little."
-George Carlin (1937-2008)
"Have some of you Americans actually seen Football? Of course there are 0-0 draws but that doesn't make them any less exciting."
-Dr Roberts, with quite possibly the dumbest thing ever said in 10 years of SDNet.
-George Carlin (1937-2008)
"Have some of you Americans actually seen Football? Of course there are 0-0 draws but that doesn't make them any less exciting."
-Dr Roberts, with quite possibly the dumbest thing ever said in 10 years of SDNet.
-
MKSheppard
- Ruthless Genocidal Warmonger
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BWHAHAHAHHA
"If scientists and inventors who develop disease cures and useful technologies don't get lifetime royalties, I'd like to know what fucking rationale you have for some guy getting lifetime royalties for writing an episode of Full House." - Mike Wong
"The present air situation in the Pacific is entirely the result of fighting a fifth rate air power." - U.S. Navy Memo - 24 July 1944
"The present air situation in the Pacific is entirely the result of fighting a fifth rate air power." - U.S. Navy Memo - 24 July 1944
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Yes, Fanboy, you are truly upholding the long and utterly sordid reputation of UPF quite well.
Falkenhorst
BOTM 15.Nov.02
Post #114 @ Fri Oct 18, 2002 4:44 pm
"I've had all that I wanted of a lot of things I've had
And a lot more than I needed of some things that turned out bad"
-Johnny Cash, "Wanted Man"
UPF: CARNIVAL OF RETARDS
BOTM 15.Nov.02
Post #114 @ Fri Oct 18, 2002 4:44 pm
"I've had all that I wanted of a lot of things I've had
And a lot more than I needed of some things that turned out bad"
-Johnny Cash, "Wanted Man"
UPF: CARNIVAL OF RETARDS
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The Yosemite Bear
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Singular Quartet
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Darth Fanboy
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Chapter 16 Part III: Journey to the Center of Jabba's Bowels
If taking a shit could be considered "cooking the brown carrot", then the carrots of Nal Hutta would win every gardening award in the galaxy. Brian Eyci had proceeded through nearly fifty meters of Jabba's ass, the logistics of the Hutt digestive system absolutely baffled him. the skeleton of a kowakian monkey lizard floated past in a slow float that seemed almost serene. Brian Eyci kept his hand close to the blaster at his hip. He wished he had the stun stick with him, it was too cramped for anything but close quarters combat. He also patted his hand over the side pocket, where the doctor had given him a box of special capsules. He said they were a "Fecal decoagulating agent and pyloric muscle relaxant", whatever that meant. It didn't matter, as soon as he escaped from this nightmare he'd get his credits, buy a ship, and get as far away from Tatooine as he possibly could.
Another lonely fifty meters passed, Brian Eyci's mind began to wander and he constantly had to refocus himself, it was too dangerous in here to lose concentration. The remains over meals, silverware and all littered the landscape in front of him. Suddenly there was a violent shaking, and Brian Eycis body bounced against the intestinal walls, encrusted debris shook itself free, falling gently through the liquid shit to create an obstruction. Somewhere outside, it sounded like thunder...
[HURRY UP YOU GAMMOREAN SWINE CUNT! THIS IS TAKING TOO LONG!]
A frantic and exhausted Jabba repeatedly slammed his hands into his belly, in a desperate attempt to shake the contents loose and expel the invader of his treasured tract. Jabba released an anal salute through what little opening he had, spraying a fair amount of brownie batter onto Bib Fortuna, who was guarding the exit to Jabba's ass with a blaster to ensure Brian Eyci's demise. Fortuna cursed silently, and calmed himself by reminding himself that once it was certain Jabba would die, he would make a swift escape through a nearby trap door. HE figured that there would be enough buildup inside Jabba to rival that of Mos Eisley's most infamous public toilet, the "Deep Dome".
Brian Eyci dug his way through the debris, and pushed some of it to the side when he came across a set of wreckage that didn't look like anything jabba would eat at all. Perhaps these were the bu-66R colonoscopy droids that the doctor had mentioned. Brian Eyci gulped, he must be getting close to the awful wretched source of this madness. There were legends in the universe of subhuman mutants that devolved beneath the larger cities like Coruscant, of nightmarish creatures that travel the black depths of space, and of horrible beasts concieved from the dark side of the force. No black pit of hatred the Sith had ever concieved of could be so foul, he thought. Finally, after hours and hours of crawling he had crawled into a larger chamber, thousands of gallons of liquified dung surrounded him. He stepped forward, panicked, and attempted to turn back, but he had lost his way! He was no longer able to find the tunnel what would lead him free!
There was a disturbance in the feces in front of him, and then he felt a wave ripple over him. Something...something was swimming in here! But where was here? He tried to trudge forward but the feces began to further harden and gel, movement was becoming increasingly difficult.
[Who dares trespass....my home....my home....]
Brian Eyci could hear the language, flawless Huttese, it almost sounded like Jabba. Maybe it was his imagination, or maybe Jabba was just screaming his head off outside.
[You....not belong....]
Now he knew he wasn't hearing things something was talking to him!
"Who's there? I...I...I come on behalf of Jabba the Hutt!"
[Jab...ba? Broth....er?]
Whatever this was it must be deranged, it was speaking nonsense. Brian Eyci didn't have a problem with that, insane people were easily distracted by the voices in their heads and thus, easier targets.
"Come out you parasite, it's time for you to go!"
[Ohhhh Hooo hoooo.....]
That was the trademark Jabba laugh, but how could this parasite have replicated it so easily? Wait a minute, hadn't he mentioned the word 'brother'? What sort of twisted creation could this be?
[I go nowhere...not yet...soon I be free...]
"Free? Free of what?'
[Free of....broth....er....Free of....womb]
Brian Eyci pondered a bit, while it was true that Hutts were hermaphroditic they surely didn't give birth from the stomach. Although with Hutts you could never be sure.
[I explain....]
Suddenly a slug like creature began to emerge through the darkness, and suddenly what looked hike a mini-Jabba was staring right back at Brian Eyci! Brian Eyci wanted to scream but the mini-Hutt held him tightly.
[The poop....explains all...]
A cylinder of fecal matter pushed outward and away, created what appeared to be a bubble, but its purpose became clear when the images started appearing within the bubble. Apparently this parasite could psychically control the the dung somehow.
Two young embryos sat side by side within a womb. Both hungered to be born so they could seek out and dominate their surroundings. However, while one smaller brother dreamed of conquering the world outside, the other larger brother focused on eliminating his competition on the inside, the larger brother devoured his sibling within the womb and his victory was complete, or so he thought.
The smaller embryo was influenced by the Reevian stem-cell process. The Stem Cells reformed within his brother and reconsituted in the form of an even smaller brother, which would remain diminutive, hiding in the digestive tract until one day he would be strong enough to take control of his brother's body and get revenge.
The enlightenment was almost as bad as the mystery. Jabba had consumed his brother in the womb, but the brother survived inside Jabba, and was now seeking vengeance by holding his older brother's colon hostage.
[Now...you know...too much!]
"Fuck!"
Jabba's brother tightened his grip on Brian Eyci, and several of the seals on the hazard suit began to leak. Shit began pouring into the suit and was weghing down his limbs substantially. He tried the blaster, but couldn't get to the trigger. That left him with the fecal decoagulants...or as some people like to call them...laxatives.
Dr. Asdo and Bib Fortuna were viewing through Brian Eyci's visual feed and were absolutely stunned. Then they noticed that Brian Eyci was quickly overpowered.
"He only has one chance left! Use the pills damnit!"
"Uhhh, what exactly were in those pills anyway doc?"
"Special Laxatives, extra powerful. However they have to be introduced at the source of the blockage. Vets usually use them for sick Rontos and Gungan Fambaas."
"Aren't Fambaas the size of a skiff?"
"Skiff smiff! They're about the size of an Imperial walker!"
"And how does this laxative work?"
"Well once he cracks the pill a powerful decoagulant is released, I used the big words like that because that bastard aint smart enough to figure it out if I use them"
Fortuna scowled, he didn't know what it meant either.
"You do realize what's going to happen when he uses the pill don't you?"
"Ummmm Im not sure, why don't you just tell me."
"That chemical is going to react quickly with any feces it touches, the nearly solid ass karma is going to liquefy almost instaneously, which whould make it easy for Jabba's muscles to force out of his stomach."
"Oh...well... I knew that."
"The lower floor of the palace and possible the entire facility is going to flood."
"I said I knew th....wait, say that again?"
At that very moment Brian Eyci managed to get one of his arms free, the shit had leaked in up to his neck now, and it was getting even more solid. Somehow Jabba's brother was increasing the density of the poo at will! With the free hand he grasped his blaster. He fired a few shots into mini-Jabba's hide and he backed off, swimming into the depths where he had a huge stealth advantage. Brian Eyci managed to get to the pills, not hesitating for but a second, he unclasped the whole box...
Imperial Star Destroyer Ashlee Simpson Live: In orbit over Tatooine
The ensign at the sensor console couldn't believe it.
"Commander, i'm getting strange readings from the dune sea."
"Any signs of Rebel Activity?"
"Not exactly, i'm picking up a heavy burst of methane gas, as well as a few other trace gases our computer can't identify. Standard prodcedure is to declare a bio contamination area and garrison it off."
"Fuck that, this is Tatooine. The whole place is contaminated. Just keep an eye on it and make sure it doesn't harm the local barracks."
Inside of Jabba's Palace
An incredibly relieved Jabba the Hutt lay prostrate on his repulsorcouch, and smiled.
For the first time in his life he knew joy.
Outside of Jabba's Palace
The entire building was flooded, or partially flooded. The force of the fecal blast expelled thousands of gallons of thin brownish green slime throughout the palace, in fact so much that it began to flow out of the palace itself and into the surrounding sand, turning it an unforgiveable color. For once, there was a place on Tatooine that was even more foul to be downwind of than Mos Eisley. The B'omarr monks of the palace would be furious, and knowing Jabba's lack of janitorial services they would be forced into all the cleaning. The expulsion of slime had been so great, that it propelled Brian Eyci and Jabba's twin far from the palace, the two collapsed near each other. The diminutive Hutt's eyes were weak against the twin suns. He was finally free.
Brian Eyci looked over at his former enemy. "What will you do now?"
[I think, I'll find a place I can call my own now. Someplace that isn't full of intestinal fluids and organs. Someplace I can call home.]
Brian Eyci watched as the Hutt crawled for about twenty meters, only to fall into the waiting mouth of a Sarlaac. Tragic as it may have been he was a true mercenary warrior now. He had crawled through Jabba's asshole, battled a great enemy, and lived to tell about it. He had ascendedm, and he would collect his five thousand and ten credits.
Suddenly he heard footsteps behind him. Brian Eyci turned and saw....BOBA FETT???
"I got a call from Bib Fortuna, I hear you're the idiot responsible for the sewer malfunction in the palace."
"Sewer malfunction? Oh no way man, its like this. Jabba was all constipated and shit right? So Bib Fortuna hires me to craw up his ass and clear out a parasite, but it wasn't just a prasite it was Jabba's twin brother that he devoured in the womb who was trying to kill Jabba so he could take over. I fought and defeated him using super powerful laxative and thats how I ended up here."
"You expect me to believe that? Anyway, Fortuna said the bounty on you was five thousand credits. Easy money."
Brian Eyci reached for his blaster, but it had washed away in the flood. HE stopped to laugh at himself, he was a fool for asking for the ten credits extra. Fortuna had put a bounty on his head for a mere five thousand, when he was worth at least five thousand and ten, but it was more than that. Brian Eyci knew too much for once in his life, and he resigned himself to his fate. Then he realized that Boba Fett was standing in front of him with a blaster in each hand, so he did the more practical thing and attempted to flee, but the shit soaked hazard suit weighed him down and Boba Fett plugged him right through the back of the head. Upon death Brian Eyci's bowels emptied, adding a fitting end to an absolutely abhorrent escapade.
Fin
And there you have it, The first Official Solo Fanboy Chapter, with much props to Falk and Shep. Stay tuned because your fond memories of Farscape are next...
If taking a shit could be considered "cooking the brown carrot", then the carrots of Nal Hutta would win every gardening award in the galaxy. Brian Eyci had proceeded through nearly fifty meters of Jabba's ass, the logistics of the Hutt digestive system absolutely baffled him. the skeleton of a kowakian monkey lizard floated past in a slow float that seemed almost serene. Brian Eyci kept his hand close to the blaster at his hip. He wished he had the stun stick with him, it was too cramped for anything but close quarters combat. He also patted his hand over the side pocket, where the doctor had given him a box of special capsules. He said they were a "Fecal decoagulating agent and pyloric muscle relaxant", whatever that meant. It didn't matter, as soon as he escaped from this nightmare he'd get his credits, buy a ship, and get as far away from Tatooine as he possibly could.
Another lonely fifty meters passed, Brian Eyci's mind began to wander and he constantly had to refocus himself, it was too dangerous in here to lose concentration. The remains over meals, silverware and all littered the landscape in front of him. Suddenly there was a violent shaking, and Brian Eycis body bounced against the intestinal walls, encrusted debris shook itself free, falling gently through the liquid shit to create an obstruction. Somewhere outside, it sounded like thunder...
[HURRY UP YOU GAMMOREAN SWINE CUNT! THIS IS TAKING TOO LONG!]
A frantic and exhausted Jabba repeatedly slammed his hands into his belly, in a desperate attempt to shake the contents loose and expel the invader of his treasured tract. Jabba released an anal salute through what little opening he had, spraying a fair amount of brownie batter onto Bib Fortuna, who was guarding the exit to Jabba's ass with a blaster to ensure Brian Eyci's demise. Fortuna cursed silently, and calmed himself by reminding himself that once it was certain Jabba would die, he would make a swift escape through a nearby trap door. HE figured that there would be enough buildup inside Jabba to rival that of Mos Eisley's most infamous public toilet, the "Deep Dome".
Brian Eyci dug his way through the debris, and pushed some of it to the side when he came across a set of wreckage that didn't look like anything jabba would eat at all. Perhaps these were the bu-66R colonoscopy droids that the doctor had mentioned. Brian Eyci gulped, he must be getting close to the awful wretched source of this madness. There were legends in the universe of subhuman mutants that devolved beneath the larger cities like Coruscant, of nightmarish creatures that travel the black depths of space, and of horrible beasts concieved from the dark side of the force. No black pit of hatred the Sith had ever concieved of could be so foul, he thought. Finally, after hours and hours of crawling he had crawled into a larger chamber, thousands of gallons of liquified dung surrounded him. He stepped forward, panicked, and attempted to turn back, but he had lost his way! He was no longer able to find the tunnel what would lead him free!
There was a disturbance in the feces in front of him, and then he felt a wave ripple over him. Something...something was swimming in here! But where was here? He tried to trudge forward but the feces began to further harden and gel, movement was becoming increasingly difficult.
[Who dares trespass....my home....my home....]
Brian Eyci could hear the language, flawless Huttese, it almost sounded like Jabba. Maybe it was his imagination, or maybe Jabba was just screaming his head off outside.
[You....not belong....]
Now he knew he wasn't hearing things something was talking to him!
"Who's there? I...I...I come on behalf of Jabba the Hutt!"
[Jab...ba? Broth....er?]
Whatever this was it must be deranged, it was speaking nonsense. Brian Eyci didn't have a problem with that, insane people were easily distracted by the voices in their heads and thus, easier targets.
"Come out you parasite, it's time for you to go!"
[Ohhhh Hooo hoooo.....]
That was the trademark Jabba laugh, but how could this parasite have replicated it so easily? Wait a minute, hadn't he mentioned the word 'brother'? What sort of twisted creation could this be?
[I go nowhere...not yet...soon I be free...]
"Free? Free of what?'
[Free of....broth....er....Free of....womb]
Brian Eyci pondered a bit, while it was true that Hutts were hermaphroditic they surely didn't give birth from the stomach. Although with Hutts you could never be sure.
[I explain....]
Suddenly a slug like creature began to emerge through the darkness, and suddenly what looked hike a mini-Jabba was staring right back at Brian Eyci! Brian Eyci wanted to scream but the mini-Hutt held him tightly.
[The poop....explains all...]
A cylinder of fecal matter pushed outward and away, created what appeared to be a bubble, but its purpose became clear when the images started appearing within the bubble. Apparently this parasite could psychically control the the dung somehow.
Two young embryos sat side by side within a womb. Both hungered to be born so they could seek out and dominate their surroundings. However, while one smaller brother dreamed of conquering the world outside, the other larger brother focused on eliminating his competition on the inside, the larger brother devoured his sibling within the womb and his victory was complete, or so he thought.
The smaller embryo was influenced by the Reevian stem-cell process. The Stem Cells reformed within his brother and reconsituted in the form of an even smaller brother, which would remain diminutive, hiding in the digestive tract until one day he would be strong enough to take control of his brother's body and get revenge.
The enlightenment was almost as bad as the mystery. Jabba had consumed his brother in the womb, but the brother survived inside Jabba, and was now seeking vengeance by holding his older brother's colon hostage.
[Now...you know...too much!]
"Fuck!"
Jabba's brother tightened his grip on Brian Eyci, and several of the seals on the hazard suit began to leak. Shit began pouring into the suit and was weghing down his limbs substantially. He tried the blaster, but couldn't get to the trigger. That left him with the fecal decoagulants...or as some people like to call them...laxatives.
Dr. Asdo and Bib Fortuna were viewing through Brian Eyci's visual feed and were absolutely stunned. Then they noticed that Brian Eyci was quickly overpowered.
"He only has one chance left! Use the pills damnit!"
"Uhhh, what exactly were in those pills anyway doc?"
"Special Laxatives, extra powerful. However they have to be introduced at the source of the blockage. Vets usually use them for sick Rontos and Gungan Fambaas."
"Aren't Fambaas the size of a skiff?"
"Skiff smiff! They're about the size of an Imperial walker!"
"And how does this laxative work?"
"Well once he cracks the pill a powerful decoagulant is released, I used the big words like that because that bastard aint smart enough to figure it out if I use them"
Fortuna scowled, he didn't know what it meant either.
"You do realize what's going to happen when he uses the pill don't you?"
"Ummmm Im not sure, why don't you just tell me."
"That chemical is going to react quickly with any feces it touches, the nearly solid ass karma is going to liquefy almost instaneously, which whould make it easy for Jabba's muscles to force out of his stomach."
"Oh...well... I knew that."
"The lower floor of the palace and possible the entire facility is going to flood."
"I said I knew th....wait, say that again?"
At that very moment Brian Eyci managed to get one of his arms free, the shit had leaked in up to his neck now, and it was getting even more solid. Somehow Jabba's brother was increasing the density of the poo at will! With the free hand he grasped his blaster. He fired a few shots into mini-Jabba's hide and he backed off, swimming into the depths where he had a huge stealth advantage. Brian Eyci managed to get to the pills, not hesitating for but a second, he unclasped the whole box...
Imperial Star Destroyer Ashlee Simpson Live: In orbit over Tatooine
The ensign at the sensor console couldn't believe it.
"Commander, i'm getting strange readings from the dune sea."
"Any signs of Rebel Activity?"
"Not exactly, i'm picking up a heavy burst of methane gas, as well as a few other trace gases our computer can't identify. Standard prodcedure is to declare a bio contamination area and garrison it off."
"Fuck that, this is Tatooine. The whole place is contaminated. Just keep an eye on it and make sure it doesn't harm the local barracks."
Inside of Jabba's Palace
An incredibly relieved Jabba the Hutt lay prostrate on his repulsorcouch, and smiled.
For the first time in his life he knew joy.
Outside of Jabba's Palace
The entire building was flooded, or partially flooded. The force of the fecal blast expelled thousands of gallons of thin brownish green slime throughout the palace, in fact so much that it began to flow out of the palace itself and into the surrounding sand, turning it an unforgiveable color. For once, there was a place on Tatooine that was even more foul to be downwind of than Mos Eisley. The B'omarr monks of the palace would be furious, and knowing Jabba's lack of janitorial services they would be forced into all the cleaning. The expulsion of slime had been so great, that it propelled Brian Eyci and Jabba's twin far from the palace, the two collapsed near each other. The diminutive Hutt's eyes were weak against the twin suns. He was finally free.
Brian Eyci looked over at his former enemy. "What will you do now?"
[I think, I'll find a place I can call my own now. Someplace that isn't full of intestinal fluids and organs. Someplace I can call home.]
Brian Eyci watched as the Hutt crawled for about twenty meters, only to fall into the waiting mouth of a Sarlaac. Tragic as it may have been he was a true mercenary warrior now. He had crawled through Jabba's asshole, battled a great enemy, and lived to tell about it. He had ascendedm, and he would collect his five thousand and ten credits.
Suddenly he heard footsteps behind him. Brian Eyci turned and saw....BOBA FETT???
"I got a call from Bib Fortuna, I hear you're the idiot responsible for the sewer malfunction in the palace."
"Sewer malfunction? Oh no way man, its like this. Jabba was all constipated and shit right? So Bib Fortuna hires me to craw up his ass and clear out a parasite, but it wasn't just a prasite it was Jabba's twin brother that he devoured in the womb who was trying to kill Jabba so he could take over. I fought and defeated him using super powerful laxative and thats how I ended up here."
"You expect me to believe that? Anyway, Fortuna said the bounty on you was five thousand credits. Easy money."
Brian Eyci reached for his blaster, but it had washed away in the flood. HE stopped to laugh at himself, he was a fool for asking for the ten credits extra. Fortuna had put a bounty on his head for a mere five thousand, when he was worth at least five thousand and ten, but it was more than that. Brian Eyci knew too much for once in his life, and he resigned himself to his fate. Then he realized that Boba Fett was standing in front of him with a blaster in each hand, so he did the more practical thing and attempted to flee, but the shit soaked hazard suit weighed him down and Boba Fett plugged him right through the back of the head. Upon death Brian Eyci's bowels emptied, adding a fitting end to an absolutely abhorrent escapade.
Fin
And there you have it, The first Official Solo Fanboy Chapter, with much props to Falk and Shep. Stay tuned because your fond memories of Farscape are next...
Last edited by Darth Fanboy on 2008-05-13 01:40pm, edited 1 time in total.
"If it's true that our species is alone in the universe, then I'd have to say that the universe aimed rather low and settled for very little."
-George Carlin (1937-2008)
"Have some of you Americans actually seen Football? Of course there are 0-0 draws but that doesn't make them any less exciting."
-Dr Roberts, with quite possibly the dumbest thing ever said in 10 years of SDNet.
-George Carlin (1937-2008)
"Have some of you Americans actually seen Football? Of course there are 0-0 draws but that doesn't make them any less exciting."
-Dr Roberts, with quite possibly the dumbest thing ever said in 10 years of SDNet.
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Falkenhorst
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bWHAHAHAHAHAHHH that's so disgusting and evil.
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"The present air situation in the Pacific is entirely the result of fighting a fifth rate air power." - U.S. Navy Memo - 24 July 1944
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UPF CHAPTER 18: THIS CHAPTER SUCKS
by Fanboy with serious props to Falkenhorst
Author Says: No sleep and no pussy make Fanboy write shitty fanfic. Also, I know I promised Farscape stuff, but I accidentally subcontracted ch. 18 to Paramount, enjoy...
Berman: Okay, not too many people are reading the fic right now. Lets see if we can get some B-list celebrities to sign up and maybe a few old cast members from the older series to boost ratings.
Braga: Hey thats a great idea Rick, you know I didn't like how those other guys killed off all the good characters. Lets just bring a few of them back and write it into the story like they never really died, that way we can use them!
Berman: It'll be great! And the best part is that once the episode airs, its undeniable continuity! We control what happens!
Braga: You know Rick, sometimes I just want to kiss you.
Berman: You know Brannon, sometimes I want to kiss you too.
The halls of the Klingon High Council, Q'o'nos
"...anyways I ate bloodworms for breakfast that day and farted so hard that I lost consciousness, it took the scent glands from three rabid targs to awaken me and...Ambassador Worf you're alive!"
Chancellor Martok's lunchtime story hour was interrupted by the unexpected arrival of Worf, who was presumed dead during the accident that destroyed the Federation ship Enterprise-E.
"I assure you Martok, I was nowhere near that ship when it exploded, nor was I afflicted with the shipwide irritable bowel syndrome that forced the ship to emit a trail of raw feces like a plain-foreheaded p'tak!"
"Good good good, wel sit down sit down and let Old Martok tell you some of his greatest stories. Say, did I ever tell you about the time that I ate bloodworms for breakfast?"
In front of YOUR computer
"What the fuck is this garbage?" YOU said. "I don't want to read this." YOU closed the page to this fanfic and read something that didn't offend your tastes and senses so much. But morbid curiosity got the best of YOU. Like a witness to a train wreck you wanted to see the inevitable mediocrity, because of devoted fanboys and people like YOU, this fanfic will never die, no matter how much it deserves to be put down.
BAck on Q'o'nos
"Worf its occurred to me that you are the only Klingon who has ever travelled back in time. Which makes it fairly obvious that you need to go again, for the glory of the Klingon Empire."
"Why do we even need to time travel, there doesn't seem to be any real point in going."
"It's simple really. We've defeated every opponent we've ever faced in glorious combat, even pregnant Bajoran women and their abnormal strength and speed fall before our mighty bat'leths"
"This is true, no ranged weapon has ever defeated a klingon battle cry."
"See what I mean? So we need you to travel through time and find the greatest warrior in history, so that I may fight him and broadcast the battle live on pay per view."
"I agree Chancellor, it will be glorious, you will show that the eloquent and unique craftsmanship of the bat'leth makes it a superior melee weapon, while demonstrating our mighty Klingon strength. I will travel trhough time and acquire...uhh...who should I bring back?"
"That's another thing, it can't be Klingon because that would look bad if I beat the tar out of one of our ancestors. Bring me a human, they're pretty gullible, we might not even have to pay him a part of the reciepts."
"I will travel through time immediately! The consequences of my actions mean nothing compared to honor!"
"Yes Worf, now go quickly, my horoscope today said that today was a good day for Pisces to achieve goals."
"You're a Pisces? I'm a Pisces too!"
"Like, no way! Omigod!"
Earth, circa 1986
James T. Kirk was on an incredibly important mission. To retrieve a Humpback whale and save the federation for the jillionth time. He adjusted his girdle and sat, staring at the viewscreen towards that little blue rock he called home, wondering how many people on that rock were doing it.
"Admiral Kirk?"
"Wha? Oh Spock you were saying something?"
"Sensors indicate that 426,780,545 people are currently engaged in some form of paired sexual activity, I knew you humans were heavy breeders but I do not understand why the final count came up with an odd number. Perhaps midgets are involved and teh computer is simply rounding up from the nearest decimal point."
"Human sexuality is a....difficultthing.....to....understand MisterSpock. Manypeopleinthisera....chose to engage.....in...concurrentmultiplepartnerships."
Spock adjusted his universal translator to account for Kirks broken sentences, he would have shot himself long ago without this program. "Concurrent multiple partnerships captain?"
"That's right Mr. Spock. It was commonly referred to as a "Three way" or an "orgy". Though orgies of five, ten, or even a hundred people weren't uncommon. It was a more liberated era, at least until the Ashcroft Wars of 2015."
"Fascinating, perhaps we will be able to observe one of these orgies."
"So do I Mr. Spock so do I."
With the scanners of the Bird of Prey overtaxed scanning the planet for possible sexual encounters, Worf's ship was able to sneak onto the planet. Worf had scoured the radio reports and TV broadcasts for days looking for a suitable acquisition. Reports of a man known only as "Beeyay" had interested him. He was everything from a prizefighter, a children's hero, and even a former soldier. This "Beeyay" would do well, he even had hair which resembled Klingon characteristics, and enough gold armor plating to be fearsome in combat.
...somewhere, in the most bad ass van ever...
Mr.T was cruising along steadily, having pitied every fool he had seen on route 66, he was heading for Los Angeles, apparently some fools were going to start a new fad called "reality television" and T had decided they would have to be pitied, because reality television sounded like something for suckas. He chugged a glass of milk, when suddenly a red glow enveloped him and his custom 1982 GMC Van.
The van materialized in the cargo hold of Worf's Vor'cha, a phalanx of Klingon guards stood fast with bat'leths ready, waiting to deflect blaster bolts and charge at their enemy en masse, defeating them with ease. The red glow of the transporter appeared before them, but they were not ready as the Van was still travelling some sixty five miles per hour. A pair of Klingon soldiers charged at the large armored enemy, but were crushed beneath over a thousand pounds of metal and mojo. Mr. T slammed on the brakes and then stepped out of the van, one of the Bat'leths had punctured a tire and another one had scratched the paint. Usually these were pitiable offenses that warranted a severa ass whooping. But Mr. T was not in the mood for fun and games, attacks on his van were taken personally.
"WHO IS THE HEAD SUCKA ALIEN THAT MESSED UP T'S VAN! WHO! I AINT GOT TIME FOR THIS JIBBA JABBA, SOMEOBDY SPEAK UP OR I WILL KICK EVERY ASS ON THIS SHIP UNTIL ITS NOTHING BUT A GIANT KICKED ASS"
"I am Worf, Ambassador of the Klingon Empire. You, 'T', have been chose to be an honored guest on our home planet of Q'o'nos."
"Kokomo? I aint got time to go to no beach resort! What kind of fool do you think I am?"
"Its not a resort Mr. T its just..."
"Oh you calling me a liar? Are you calling T a liar"
"No but that vehicle crash must have cracked your..."
"Crack, you say crack? T don't smoke crack. I stay clean! Drink Milk! You shouldn't do drugs son!"
Worf held his head low, this human was probably more deranged than he was powerful. Well at least it wouldn't be hard to get rid of the evidence, they were 400 years in the past.
"I grow tired of this!"
Worf notioned to his men to attack Mr. T, but the great Klingon warries were pitied with ease. Titanium wasn't supposed to bend no matter how hard a skull collided with it, but the inside of the cargo room soon resembled a Honda Civic left out in a hailstorm. Mr. T stopped briefly and looked right over at Worf.
"You know you got this big fancy ride here you better be listening to me! Why when I was a kid we were soo poor we couldn't AFFORD to pay attention. But you aint go no excuse."
Worf turned to run but slipped and feel in the puddle of piss that had collected at his feet. T had pitied him without even touching him. T stormed out of the cargo bay, searching for a fool who would take him back to Earth, but he had whooped the ass of every Klingon on the ship, and it was on an irreversible autopiloted course.
The offices of Berman and Braga, genius extraordinaires
Berman: Wow that was intense!
Braga: I know! Who would have thought an entire script was just sitting there in my colon, waiting for you to pull it out of my ass!
Berman: Good thing I went up there to look, you know, writing these things can be such a drag.
Braga: Hey I got an idea!
Berman: Really?
Braga: Well, kind of. See I was thinking, remember back in the first episodes of UPF? When the sewage systems got so overloaded the ship ended up leaking poop?
Berman: Oh my gawd, that was classic.
Braga: What if we like, I dunno, had the Defiant flying back to DS9 from Earth, and maybe someone has programmed the replicators to put LAXATIVES in the food.
Berman: I don't follow you.
Braga: Just think, if there was laxatives in the food, the crew would poop a lot, and then the crew would find a technological way to ease their predicament, but the ship would have to LEAK POOP.
Berman: Thats amazing! Where do you come up with this stuff!
Braga: Its a gift really, it came in hand on the set of my original masterpiece MISSION IMPOSSIBLE II.
Berman: That was like the awesomest movie ever.
Braga: Except for Nemesis.
Berman: Right on.
In front of YOUR computer
After furiously masturbating to the images of blonde bombshell and former Ally McBeal co-star Portia De Rossi YOU decided to relax and read some fanfics. You came across this fanfic, its the same old boring crap with some new boring crap added in. But the plot was vaguely resembling something interesting. Klingons are lame, the plot holes are a put off, but Mr T rocks and this is something you cannot deny. After all watching Mr T pitying every Klingon Fool on Q'o'nos would be really fun to read about right? Yeah, Mr T beating up billions of Klingons would be great, almost as great as a depiction of the little-known Earth/Romulan war which happened way before Kirk's time. That would be really neat. YOU sat down to continue reading the fic, hoping for the best.
FNN: FEDERATION NEWS NETWORK
"Good evening i'm Dick Witherdick with tonights Quadrant News. Our top story tonight, a single human man has whooped the ass of every Klingon on Q'o'nos. Details are sketchy at best and we're too afraid to go over there to confirm all the details, but needless to say, some fools have been pitied. FNN recieved a short transmission shortly after contact with the Klingons was lost."
I am the new chancellor of the Klingon Empire, I will tolerate no Jibba Jabba from any Suckas who messes with these kids. I will pity any fool who tries to make us look like a chump. CHANCELLOR T OUT."
"There you have it."
In front of YOUR computer
"That fucking sucked!"
by Fanboy with serious props to Falkenhorst
Author Says: No sleep and no pussy make Fanboy write shitty fanfic. Also, I know I promised Farscape stuff, but I accidentally subcontracted ch. 18 to Paramount, enjoy...
Berman: Okay, not too many people are reading the fic right now. Lets see if we can get some B-list celebrities to sign up and maybe a few old cast members from the older series to boost ratings.
Braga: Hey thats a great idea Rick, you know I didn't like how those other guys killed off all the good characters. Lets just bring a few of them back and write it into the story like they never really died, that way we can use them!
Berman: It'll be great! And the best part is that once the episode airs, its undeniable continuity! We control what happens!
Braga: You know Rick, sometimes I just want to kiss you.
Berman: You know Brannon, sometimes I want to kiss you too.
The halls of the Klingon High Council, Q'o'nos
"...anyways I ate bloodworms for breakfast that day and farted so hard that I lost consciousness, it took the scent glands from three rabid targs to awaken me and...Ambassador Worf you're alive!"
Chancellor Martok's lunchtime story hour was interrupted by the unexpected arrival of Worf, who was presumed dead during the accident that destroyed the Federation ship Enterprise-E.
"I assure you Martok, I was nowhere near that ship when it exploded, nor was I afflicted with the shipwide irritable bowel syndrome that forced the ship to emit a trail of raw feces like a plain-foreheaded p'tak!"
"Good good good, wel sit down sit down and let Old Martok tell you some of his greatest stories. Say, did I ever tell you about the time that I ate bloodworms for breakfast?"
In front of YOUR computer
"What the fuck is this garbage?" YOU said. "I don't want to read this." YOU closed the page to this fanfic and read something that didn't offend your tastes and senses so much. But morbid curiosity got the best of YOU. Like a witness to a train wreck you wanted to see the inevitable mediocrity, because of devoted fanboys and people like YOU, this fanfic will never die, no matter how much it deserves to be put down.
BAck on Q'o'nos
"Worf its occurred to me that you are the only Klingon who has ever travelled back in time. Which makes it fairly obvious that you need to go again, for the glory of the Klingon Empire."
"Why do we even need to time travel, there doesn't seem to be any real point in going."
"It's simple really. We've defeated every opponent we've ever faced in glorious combat, even pregnant Bajoran women and their abnormal strength and speed fall before our mighty bat'leths"
"This is true, no ranged weapon has ever defeated a klingon battle cry."
"See what I mean? So we need you to travel through time and find the greatest warrior in history, so that I may fight him and broadcast the battle live on pay per view."
"I agree Chancellor, it will be glorious, you will show that the eloquent and unique craftsmanship of the bat'leth makes it a superior melee weapon, while demonstrating our mighty Klingon strength. I will travel trhough time and acquire...uhh...who should I bring back?"
"That's another thing, it can't be Klingon because that would look bad if I beat the tar out of one of our ancestors. Bring me a human, they're pretty gullible, we might not even have to pay him a part of the reciepts."
"I will travel through time immediately! The consequences of my actions mean nothing compared to honor!"
"Yes Worf, now go quickly, my horoscope today said that today was a good day for Pisces to achieve goals."
"You're a Pisces? I'm a Pisces too!"
"Like, no way! Omigod!"
Earth, circa 1986
James T. Kirk was on an incredibly important mission. To retrieve a Humpback whale and save the federation for the jillionth time. He adjusted his girdle and sat, staring at the viewscreen towards that little blue rock he called home, wondering how many people on that rock were doing it.
"Admiral Kirk?"
"Wha? Oh Spock you were saying something?"
"Sensors indicate that 426,780,545 people are currently engaged in some form of paired sexual activity, I knew you humans were heavy breeders but I do not understand why the final count came up with an odd number. Perhaps midgets are involved and teh computer is simply rounding up from the nearest decimal point."
"Human sexuality is a....difficultthing.....to....understand MisterSpock. Manypeopleinthisera....chose to engage.....in...concurrentmultiplepartnerships."
Spock adjusted his universal translator to account for Kirks broken sentences, he would have shot himself long ago without this program. "Concurrent multiple partnerships captain?"
"That's right Mr. Spock. It was commonly referred to as a "Three way" or an "orgy". Though orgies of five, ten, or even a hundred people weren't uncommon. It was a more liberated era, at least until the Ashcroft Wars of 2015."
"Fascinating, perhaps we will be able to observe one of these orgies."
"So do I Mr. Spock so do I."
With the scanners of the Bird of Prey overtaxed scanning the planet for possible sexual encounters, Worf's ship was able to sneak onto the planet. Worf had scoured the radio reports and TV broadcasts for days looking for a suitable acquisition. Reports of a man known only as "Beeyay" had interested him. He was everything from a prizefighter, a children's hero, and even a former soldier. This "Beeyay" would do well, he even had hair which resembled Klingon characteristics, and enough gold armor plating to be fearsome in combat.
...somewhere, in the most bad ass van ever...
Mr.T was cruising along steadily, having pitied every fool he had seen on route 66, he was heading for Los Angeles, apparently some fools were going to start a new fad called "reality television" and T had decided they would have to be pitied, because reality television sounded like something for suckas. He chugged a glass of milk, when suddenly a red glow enveloped him and his custom 1982 GMC Van.
The van materialized in the cargo hold of Worf's Vor'cha, a phalanx of Klingon guards stood fast with bat'leths ready, waiting to deflect blaster bolts and charge at their enemy en masse, defeating them with ease. The red glow of the transporter appeared before them, but they were not ready as the Van was still travelling some sixty five miles per hour. A pair of Klingon soldiers charged at the large armored enemy, but were crushed beneath over a thousand pounds of metal and mojo. Mr. T slammed on the brakes and then stepped out of the van, one of the Bat'leths had punctured a tire and another one had scratched the paint. Usually these were pitiable offenses that warranted a severa ass whooping. But Mr. T was not in the mood for fun and games, attacks on his van were taken personally.
"WHO IS THE HEAD SUCKA ALIEN THAT MESSED UP T'S VAN! WHO! I AINT GOT TIME FOR THIS JIBBA JABBA, SOMEOBDY SPEAK UP OR I WILL KICK EVERY ASS ON THIS SHIP UNTIL ITS NOTHING BUT A GIANT KICKED ASS"
"I am Worf, Ambassador of the Klingon Empire. You, 'T', have been chose to be an honored guest on our home planet of Q'o'nos."
"Kokomo? I aint got time to go to no beach resort! What kind of fool do you think I am?"
"Its not a resort Mr. T its just..."
"Oh you calling me a liar? Are you calling T a liar"
"No but that vehicle crash must have cracked your..."
"Crack, you say crack? T don't smoke crack. I stay clean! Drink Milk! You shouldn't do drugs son!"
Worf held his head low, this human was probably more deranged than he was powerful. Well at least it wouldn't be hard to get rid of the evidence, they were 400 years in the past.
"I grow tired of this!"
Worf notioned to his men to attack Mr. T, but the great Klingon warries were pitied with ease. Titanium wasn't supposed to bend no matter how hard a skull collided with it, but the inside of the cargo room soon resembled a Honda Civic left out in a hailstorm. Mr. T stopped briefly and looked right over at Worf.
"You know you got this big fancy ride here you better be listening to me! Why when I was a kid we were soo poor we couldn't AFFORD to pay attention. But you aint go no excuse."
Worf turned to run but slipped and feel in the puddle of piss that had collected at his feet. T had pitied him without even touching him. T stormed out of the cargo bay, searching for a fool who would take him back to Earth, but he had whooped the ass of every Klingon on the ship, and it was on an irreversible autopiloted course.
The offices of Berman and Braga, genius extraordinaires
Berman: Wow that was intense!
Braga: I know! Who would have thought an entire script was just sitting there in my colon, waiting for you to pull it out of my ass!
Berman: Good thing I went up there to look, you know, writing these things can be such a drag.
Braga: Hey I got an idea!
Berman: Really?
Braga: Well, kind of. See I was thinking, remember back in the first episodes of UPF? When the sewage systems got so overloaded the ship ended up leaking poop?
Berman: Oh my gawd, that was classic.
Braga: What if we like, I dunno, had the Defiant flying back to DS9 from Earth, and maybe someone has programmed the replicators to put LAXATIVES in the food.
Berman: I don't follow you.
Braga: Just think, if there was laxatives in the food, the crew would poop a lot, and then the crew would find a technological way to ease their predicament, but the ship would have to LEAK POOP.
Berman: Thats amazing! Where do you come up with this stuff!
Braga: Its a gift really, it came in hand on the set of my original masterpiece MISSION IMPOSSIBLE II.
Berman: That was like the awesomest movie ever.
Braga: Except for Nemesis.
Berman: Right on.
In front of YOUR computer
After furiously masturbating to the images of blonde bombshell and former Ally McBeal co-star Portia De Rossi YOU decided to relax and read some fanfics. You came across this fanfic, its the same old boring crap with some new boring crap added in. But the plot was vaguely resembling something interesting. Klingons are lame, the plot holes are a put off, but Mr T rocks and this is something you cannot deny. After all watching Mr T pitying every Klingon Fool on Q'o'nos would be really fun to read about right? Yeah, Mr T beating up billions of Klingons would be great, almost as great as a depiction of the little-known Earth/Romulan war which happened way before Kirk's time. That would be really neat. YOU sat down to continue reading the fic, hoping for the best.
FNN: FEDERATION NEWS NETWORK
"Good evening i'm Dick Witherdick with tonights Quadrant News. Our top story tonight, a single human man has whooped the ass of every Klingon on Q'o'nos. Details are sketchy at best and we're too afraid to go over there to confirm all the details, but needless to say, some fools have been pitied. FNN recieved a short transmission shortly after contact with the Klingons was lost."
I am the new chancellor of the Klingon Empire, I will tolerate no Jibba Jabba from any Suckas who messes with these kids. I will pity any fool who tries to make us look like a chump. CHANCELLOR T OUT."
"There you have it."
In front of YOUR computer
"That fucking sucked!"
"If it's true that our species is alone in the universe, then I'd have to say that the universe aimed rather low and settled for very little."
-George Carlin (1937-2008)
"Have some of you Americans actually seen Football? Of course there are 0-0 draws but that doesn't make them any less exciting."
-Dr Roberts, with quite possibly the dumbest thing ever said in 10 years of SDNet.
-George Carlin (1937-2008)
"Have some of you Americans actually seen Football? Of course there are 0-0 draws but that doesn't make them any less exciting."
-Dr Roberts, with quite possibly the dumbest thing ever said in 10 years of SDNet.
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Singular Quartet
- Sith Marauder
- Posts: 3896
- Joined: 2002-07-04 05:33pm
- Location: This is sky. It is made of FUCKING and LIMIT.