Chapter 9: Dramatic End
Disclaimer: I don't own a thing… not one… ok… maybe I own… like… umm… I seriously don't think I own any of this… other than half of the plot… and maybe two or three characters... MAYBE!
Reviews: hmm… I feel this category is intensely unloved…
You can't have any… I'm keeping them…
This is one of those awkward moments where you want to stab me for ripping you off… and yet you're too freaked out by my ugly face to kill me isn't it?
I love spring break… I always love breaks… but especially this one!
ICP! (Lets go all the way!)
Chris now had the support of the full United States Army to back him up. The problem was that the war with the hippies had reduced the army to one small sailing boat, a rocket launcher, and seventeen soldiers.
"We will kill all the Russians now… oh, and find Isabella too…" Chris said.
"WE WON'T FOLLOW YOU!" The soldiers cried in perfect unison, then they died.
"Oh well…" Chris said and bashed his head into the nearby wall in order to look dramatic. The problem was that this only gave him a concussion without making him look any bit dramatic. He fell over, knocked out cold.
(With the yourked police, as Bulba had conveniently changed their name)
"WE WILL ALL SIT ON THIS LITTLE ISLAND AND NOT SHOOT UNTIL THE ENEMY SHOOTS FIRST!" Bulba said as Tatarin's spirit had taken control of him. With this new spirit in control, he soon started taking bites out of random soldiers that were sitting next to him. Yeah… they were on an island at an apartment building for no apparent reason.
"But sir! What will we do with your mom!" A British soldier asked in a mixture of lust and hemorrhoids.
"Oh, she's old, no one cares what happens to her…" Bulba said like the professional happy person he was.
"YAY!" The Brit said as hundreds of other Brits ran into the room and started munching on Bulba's mother, who was screaming in horror and agony the whole time.
"WHO DID MY PILLOW!" Bulba suddenly screamed as someone had, in fact, fluffed his pillows without his permission. He then shot all the Brits in the room, then the remnants of his dead mother. Bulba left the room after putting all of the blame on George W. Bush, who was immediately impeached for not knowing what the word impeach means.
(Back with the last American that owns a gun)
"I'm so lonely…" Chris said. But Chris, like the sneaky person he was, was lying. Chris was actually having the time of his life. The fifty voices in his head was a real benefit for moments like this, where every single other important character was dead.
So Chris got in the little sailing boat, tried to set sail, failed miserably, and then decided to just walk to the island, something made possible by the invention of bridges! Sadly, Chris didn't know what a bridge was, so he was wandering the streets asking random bums on the street what the word 'bridge' meant. The bums were the people that failed school though, so they couldn't help him with this growing problem.
(With the French people)
"I'm sick of being gay" one guy said.
"OK, from now on… all French people are EMO!" another guy said.
"YAY!" one said.
"YAY!" the other said.
(With the American dude)
"Excuse me… do you know where the leaning bridge of Pizza is?" Chris asked another random bum.
"Right here!" them bum said pointing downwards. Chris was embarrassed. Then Chris went on a binging spree and lost ninety-seven pounds, a milk carton, a herd of ponies, telephone, his little sister that he had forgotten about for years, and his toes.
"HOW DARE YOU EAT ME LIKE THAT!" Chris's sister yelled and combined the ninety-seven pounds, milk carton, ponies, telephone, and toes to create a modern army of fat toes riding armored ponies with spears. She then created her own country and somehow defeated all of the Russian AND American armies in a big battle, all that was left was the bathroom where Chris was puking, and the island where Bulba was busy doing… a piece of paper.
Chris charged the fort where all the Russians were, managed to sneak past the whole foreign army, then found Bulba.
"Where's Isabella!" Chris said with a lack of enthusiasm.
"I wont tell you until you learn how to scream more convincingly!" Bulba said in a Broadway style voice that made everyone who was in a twelve mile radius clap until their hands got bloody and fell off, screams could be heard for hours.
"I ASKED YOU WHERE ISABELLA WAS!" Chris said in a scholarly manner so that we would know what Chris had done.
"I know what you asked me!" Bulba replied.
"Good, I thought you had forgotten…" Chris screamed in a convincing way.
"Good job! Isabella is in the garbage can as usual, I'm leaving now!" Bulba said and got on a ship to Moscow. Sadly, Moscow is inland and the ship couldn't make it all the way. So Bulba died.
"Wow…" Chris said and walked over to the only garbage can in the fort. Sadly, the Russians had soldiers there to protect this precious commodity, so everyone was alerted to Chris being on the island.
Everything was set up to be a dramatic ending. Isabella then popped her head out of the garbage can and started screaming in an anime style.
"Why do you have to follow me everywhere! I'm the leader of the rebellion! Stop trying to take that away from me!" Isabella screamed and then transformed into a huge monster about 6 inches tall with thousands of 12 inch long tentacles flying around.
"GROAEKEKDLFD KVKJKJ F SFKVJ SDFKV!" Isabella Monster screamed as the entire Russian army screamed and started shooting at it. But they all suck at aiming and killed each other.
This was it. The whole fate of New York depended on Chris defeating this weird blob thing. Actually, screw New York, the fate of the whole free world depended upon Chris defeating this weird blob thing. Chris was thinking of what to do.
Chris immediately jumped to the right to roll out of the way of the weird blob thing, but there was a wall there. Chris slapped into the wall and fell over, knocked out.
"AEJKKRJFFFKVJKSDCSLFVVSKFKS JKKJKV JSKS!" Isabella Monster laughed and headed for Chris's body. The problem was that she was only 6 inches, and she wasn't very good at controlling those tentacle things of hers. So she twitched along trying to reach Chris's body, but failed miserably.
Then the Janitor walked by and accidentally stepped on her, killing her instantly.
Chris lay there wounded. He had, with very little help, managed to save New York.
Suddenly Chris's sister walked up.
"I HELPED TOO! I DEFEATED THE RUSSIANS!" She said with anger, but was then taken away to a mental hospital for talking to the voices. Even if everyone could hear them.
A dramatic scene showed all of New York, a bloody battlefield where soldiers had done… stuff…
"Not… like… this…" Chris muttered and slapped his already damaged head into a health pack. He was healed through the wonders of gay marriage. This in turn made America legalize gay marriage. Then America made heterosexual marriages illegal and the entire population then popped.
Chris: He moved to London to work as a nose picker. Sadly, no one would allow him to pick their noses and he died a miserable and useless death.
Janitor that stepped on Isabella: He founded his own company known as the 'Janitorial Institute'. To this day, know one knows what the point of this company is.
Chris's sister: She was let out early for being good. Then she invented a freak that scarred the world into killing and/or slapping everyone that ever knew her. She managed to escape with this freak though, and they are currently hiding in a cave. The freak's name is joebthegreat. If you see him, shoot him.
ICP: They got rich due to Joeb's advertising and then used the money to set a bounty on Joeb's head.
Reel Big Fish: They got rich due to Joeb's advertising and used the money to buy some caviar. Now they're poor.
Everyone else: They died in this story.
I liked it… SCREW YOU ALL!
Actually, thanks for reading… at least you know about this game where so many others don't.
We need to go out and advertise this game more… seriously… THEY NEED TO MAKE A SEQUEL SO I CAN MAKE FUN OF IT!
No views stated in the making of this story are necessarily mine… I always make fun of everything I can.
So if I was a more bigoted version of myself. I'd rant about racism and anti-Americanism and anti-Bush stuff and how gay marriage is a serious issue and how death isn't funny and how we shouldn't make fun of the French andwhatnot…
But I'm not a bigot… I'm just a sexy sonata.
R&REVIEW! Read and Risk Eating Victorious Incubating Elfin Worms