Conkers Bad Fur Day 2

Chapter 1: Getting back on your two Feet

Conker stumbled out of the Cock and Plucker choosing in his mind which path was the right way to go. He went right and found himself walking for hours before he came to a place he recognised. It was not the castle but it was the place where all of his misery began. There was the Barnyard, the Cog Tower, The Giant Mound of Poo, and the beaten up windmill. He could not believe he had stumbled back to such an idiodic place! He hated everyone that was around the place, and he hated the place itself. Before he could think another thought an old sack of hay whizzed by his head. A head bounced past him he could only recognise as birdy. Birdy was a scarecrow, and a smart(ish) one at that. He was one of the only ones that Conker did'nt hold responsible for his pain because when he thought up the list he forgot about Birdy entirely.

"Pardon me," Birdys bouncing head nearly bowled Conker over as he ran after the airborne sack of hay that was his body.

Conker now saw who was throwing the sack around. It was none other than that freaking gargoyle from the beginning of the last game. He was having a bit of fun throwing the sack around and watching Birdy run off to retrieve it in vain. Only the ignorant piece of stone could ever hope to understand the grotesque features of Birdy could be used as a substitute for-

"Hey those are some big words there." Conker told me. "And we dont want to hear about birdys gross beer leaking sack of hay for a body. So dumb it down a shade."

Sorry, Sorry. Conker is a !$head I know.

"I heard that!"

Screw you squirrel! Do you even know whos telling the story?

"Micheal Jackson."

No its me, a freaking programmer! So shut the !$ up and let me get on with the $in story you #. Now then...As I was saying Conker ran over to the gargoyle and asked him a question that stood the test of time. Not only did some of our founding fathers say these words also, but so did The Simpsons, Cartmen from South Park, and now Conker. The words passed his mouth with excitment. Those words were:

"Can I join in?"

"Its you again..." The gargoyle sighed. "No, because im almost finished anyways. I feel like sitting on a piece of gothic archetexture for another 25 million years."

"Well can you move out of the way?"


"You're standing on a context sensitive pad."

The gargoyle frowned and threw Birdy his sack of hay. He cracked his neck and touched the context sensitive pad with a finger. Before he knew it Conker was hit with a giant tree. As he fell down to meet the grim reaper again he wondered how the heck the gargoyle was able to use the context sensitive pad. He hit the ground with a thud and saw the grim reaper standing over him with a look of sadness over his face.

"What are you so sad about?" Conker asked watching the Grim Reaper take out his scythe.

"The world population of cats has hit 15 bloody million. The pricks have no idea what they've done! This is murder! Absolute murder! And now you're back here again! What was it this time that got you?"

"A tree to the face."

"Ahhh yesss..Thats how Martin Luther King Jr. died as well. Lets see here...oh! That was the last of your lives! Finnaly!"

"Wait you cant take me!"

"Why cant I take a prick like you? You should be happy to die from the likes of me! Well...die eternally anyways. Now lets speed this up! I have to meet 34 bloody cats today!"

"This was all the writers fault!"

"Was it now? We'll fix that then!"

Hey, my names rodent i'll be the new writer! No, im not that stupid squirrel from the Its War Chapter! Im a programmer as well as Bill. So everyone can say hi now. Yeah...go...go on...

"Whos Bill?" The Grim Reaper asked. "Well Conker I guess i'll send you back up as well."

"Good." Conker threw out a sigh of relief.

Conker was lifted into the air and back to where he was when he died. The gargoyle had left and Birdy was there doing...nothing.

"I cant believe my luck." Conker frowned. "I had to meet the cat hating, short, bad tempered reaper again!"