After reading that message, I couldn't help but think of a story that
some friends of mine and I had written. This is what the story would be
like if all the authors (each of our names preceeds the parts that we wrote)
were from Mars... or Saturn... or one of those out of the way places.
There's more... If you want I'll send you the next arc. If I get enough
mail, I'll post it to the FFML... and get a huge ego boost. ^_^ C&C isn't
necessary, nor is MST'ing, due to the fact that we have already picked this
thing apart for humorous value.
Story Arc 1
Heinrich vs. The Multi-Gender Clones
[Josh] At first it seemed like one of those storybook romances. You
know... boy meets girl, boy falls in love with girl, girl just wants his
$2,000,000 a year allowance, but then it started to change.
Kevin and Samantha Band-Aid (hey, you think they actually called them
Band-Aids for short or something?) had been married 7 weeks, twice as long
as Kevin had ever been married (unless you count that one where he went into
a coma for a year after the first night of the honeymoon) and he convinced
himself this time it was going to be forever. But then, something happened.
Samantha began to change. Oh, at first it was trivial things like watching
sports or leading when they were dancing. Then it became a little more
noticeable. She cut her hair rather short and started wearing jeans more
often than her elegant dresses. He decided to dismiss his apprehensions,
saying that it was nothing to fear. There, he was DEAD wrong.
One night, Kevin planned an outing to have dinner at one of his
favorite expensive restaurants. He called up the stairs to her, insisting
they leave so as not to miss their reservation. She came down wearing a
black tuxedo with a red cummerbaund.
"What are you wearing?!" Kevin demanded.
"What? Don't you like it?" Samantha inquired.
"We are going to the most expensive restaurant in town. Don't you
think you should wear something a little more..."
"What?"
"...feminine?"
Samantha laughed.
"Oh, all right," she said, giving a wink and a little grin. Kevin was
puzzled. He was sure that something had to be done. She may not be the
most womanly person in the world, but to even think of wearing a tuxedo to a
restaurant was incomprehensible to him.
He waited another couple of minutes until she returned. Now she was
wearing a long sequined black dress with a side slit up to the thigh. This
was more of what he had in mind.
"Now that's better."
They swapped saliva for a couple of seconds and the she worked her way
down his neck.
"Mmm... you smell great. What're you wearing?"
She drew her lips up to his ear and whispered.
"Brut."
The word tore at his very being. He flung himself backward against the
wall.
[Mike] Now when I say they swapped saliva, it wasn't in the way most
you sickos think. They each spat into their hand and traded with each
other. It was an old custom going back to Kevin's boyhood, done with his
best friends. He hadn't noticed it as out of the ordinary until Samantha's
revelation of the cologne she was wearing knocked him into reality and the
wall. This is a rare physical phenomenon which I will discuss at length in
a later dissertation, though.
Kevin came to several hours later. He was in a hospital room, strapped to
the bed. Then in came Samantha in full doctor's uniform.
[Nate] Kevin fought against his straps, shouting threats and demands
for his release. Samantha ignored him. The door opened and two nurses came
in. They both had blonde hair, high cheek bones, and broad mouths with full
lips. They were apparently identical twins. No! Triplets! Kevin stared in
amazement. It was... Samantha. Three of her.... Kevin, already under a
great deal of stress, found this too much to bear and passed out again.
He came to slowly. He had been dreaming of a wondrous garden full of
the loveliest, most fragrant flowers, which he was gathering into a bouquet
to give to Samantha. But the prettiest flowers were always just out of
reach. He'd no more than have a lovely bloom in his hand than he'd see an
even more dazzling one just beyond. He came back to conscienceness, aware
of a warmth and darkness. He felt soft sheets next to his skin, but the
hard press of the straps was present as well. He realized abruptly that his
eyes were closed. This didn't bother him, though. It was good to take a
break from all the visual stimuli everyday life provided. A voice intruded
on his serenity.
"What does he know?" the voice inquired. It sounded like Samantha,
only deeper.
"He only recently began to suspect something strange." This second
voice was his Samantha; he felt certain.
"Should we tell him?" Or was this third voice Samantha?
"Yes," the first, deep voice said. "Mr. Band-Aid! Wake up!"
Kevin's eyelids at this point disobeyed their standing orders and
fluttered open. Clustered about him were 3 Samanthas, one in Doctor's garb,
two in nurse outfits. Kevin regained control and promptly clamped his eyes
shut, berating them silently for their mutiny.
"Mr. Band-Aid!" deep voice Samantha continued. "We want to inform you
of your involvement in a very important project."
Cautiously, Kevin opened one eye half way and squinted at deep voiced
Dr. Samantha.
"Philosophers from around the world agree," deep voiced Sam began, "the
perfect human would have both male and female traits. We who undergo a
change from one to the other are able to attain this state of perfection,
eventually achieving a state of genderlessness, or perhaps more accurately,
we become omni-gendered. Upon reaching full maturity, being free from
primitive urges, we can further develop other abilities. Many of our mature
brethren are master psionicists and hold multiple P.H.D.'s. Of course,
reproduction is limited to fission. We can mate with you "halfs", but the
offspring will also be "halfs". The way we reproduce, a mature whole splits
into two, a male and a female. These two newborns have half the knowledge
attained by their maker, and they begin the slow maturation process
themselves, progressing from starting gender to second gender to omni-gender
in about fifty years; at 100 years, each splits. The problem is our numbers
are few. We lose many to attrition. That's where you come in. You shall
become one of us."
Kevin Band-Aid screamed. Not the scream of a man confronted with what
he knew to be a natural impossibility, not the scream of a man facing his
worst nightmare some loathsome otherworldly fiend who oozed venom and hissed
evilly, but the scream of a scared child, a little girlie scream.
"Nooooo! I-DON'T-WANNA-BE-A-GIRL!! WAAAH!"
And once again, Kevin blacked out (He was getting quite skilled at
this, he thought, as he drifted back to the lovely garden. Was there a
fainting market, previously untapped, which Band-Aid Industries could
exploit? This and many other questions disappeared as Kevin resumed
gathering the infuriating, lovely flowers in his comatose garden).
* * * * * * *
[Mike] Heinrich awoke in a pool of his own sweat. To say it was hot
would be comparative to calling Clinton a less-than-adequate president. He
crawled from the ruined building and tried to reconoiter himself.
As he scanned the yard, Heinrich noticed a vessel of some sort. He
would have remarked to himself how much the ship looked like a bird, had he
any previous contact with such animals. But, having not, he did not.
He then checked his apparel. He was wearing a strange emblem on a
neutral-colored vest. He noticed his reflection on the surface of the
vessel. He would have remarked at the lack of similarities between himself
and William Shatner, but having no knowledge of that person, he didn't.
He had been in the ship before, for some reason. He would have been
shocked at how little he remembered now if he knew all that he knew before.
He felt a small weight on his belt. He looked and found a strange device
there, hanging limply from his belt. He took it in his hand and examined
it. He admired its size (in every dimension) and its brightly polished,
smooth surfaces. Attempting to divine its use, he shook it, squeezed it,
even beat it against a rock. This brought him a great deal of discomfort,
crushing his fingers.
Suddenly, a brilliant stream of white energy flowed from the tip of the
object, disintegrating a nearby tree. Then it hit Heinrich. After he came
to and knocked the remains of the tree down himself, he remembered. He had
been sent by the high council on the planet DS-32.S to destroy the rogue
multi-gender clones that had escaped to earth. Putting his phaser back into
his pocket, he started off in search of the foul hermaphrodites.
[Josh] Heinrich had been through these missions hundreds of times and
never had much of a problem, but on earth, the people seemed to stare. No,
not just stare, but point and laugh. Had he been better briefed on the
human environment and anatomy, he would have realized that his weapon
resembled a plastic dildo, but he didn't have time for that. No, his
concern was with those multi-gender clones, the ones that changed his family
into a bunch of Michael Jacksons. "Those bastards must pay!" he shouted.
Now the problem was finding them. He sat and thought a minute... two
minutes... an hour... a day... this could go on forever, you know... a
week... a month... yes, he is that stupid... three months... oh, to heck
with this! Hey Heinrich!
"Duh... who said that?"
I did.
"Oh, sure, that helps."
Fine. This is God.
"Really?"
No, not really.
"Oh."
I'm the narrator, you stupid twit. And, actually, I am God to you.
Narrators are omniscient and omnipotent.
"What do those mean?"
I am all knowing and all powerful.
"Oh, yeah, sure."
All right, look to your left. See that building? It's a church. The
humans built that for me.
"I don't believe you."
I'll teach you!!
"Oh! Ow! Quit it! Stop! All right, all right! They built it for
you! Ow! Now stop!"
No. I'm a vengeful God.
"Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease!"
Oh, all right. Now, as I was going to say, you're looking for those
multi-gender clones.
"Yup."
Why don't you look in a sex change clinic?
"Why? I'm secure in my masculenity."
No, no. For the multi-gender clones!
"Oh, good idea oh Lord."
Of course it's a good idea! Now, Heinrich?
"Yes?"
Go away.
"Oh... okay."
[Nate] Heinrich stumbled away, reeling from his conversation with God.
"I talked to God!" he mumbled over and over. Heinrich made his way,
staggering, to a phone booth (Not that he knew what one was; his pre-mission
conditioning simply identified the oblong box as a source of certain
information). He flipped through the phone book until he came to the page
of sex-change clinics. He never would have guessed there were so many. He
tore the page from the phone book, in case he went to the wrong one at
first. Unsure which to go to (there were well over a dozen) he decided to
close his eyes and point. "Eeny meeny miney moe!" He opened his eyes and
read. "The Multi-Gender Clone Sex Change Clinic and Secret Rebel Base."
Something about that name made Heinrich suspicious. He began to make his
way to the clinic. Three blocks later, Heinrich realized he didn't know his
way around this city. How would he find the clinic? Aha! Inspiration
struck! Heinrich knelt, placed his weapon next to his left knee and began
to pray loudly.
"Oh Lord, come to me again! I know not how to get to the sex change
clinic."
Officer Frederick Jovanovich was across the street enjoying his 10:30
AM donut. It was his favorite, custom made just for him. It cost him
$2.95. It was a double-glazed cinnamon peanut butter banana danish covered
in chocolate frosting and filled with whipped cream. Officer Jovanovich ate
slowly, lovingly. Every bite was an ecstacy of taste, flooding his entire
being with the most wonderful sensation.
Officer Jovanovich's donut induced revelry was interrupted by a man
shouting across the street. Officer Jovanovich had seen the man praying
earlier, but that was okay; public prayer was legal as long as it wasn't
coercive or discriminatory in nature. But now, it seems, the man in the
one-piece-polyester jumpsuit had gotten into a scuffle with a homeless man.
The polyester wearer had ceased praying and was currently engaged in a
tug-of-war over a hot-dog or pencil. The two men were kicking each other's
shins and shouting. Officer Jovanovich set down his donut reluctantly,
regretfully. He made his way, grumbling, toward the two scuffling men.
"Give it to me!" the polyester one shouted.
"No! It's mine! I found it!" the unwashed homeless man returned.
Officer Jovanovich stormed up to the two and wrestled the object from the
two men's hands. To his disgust, it was a large 8" penis made of plastic
and it was warm. Officer Jovanovich shuddered.
"What the hell's goin' on?!" he demanded.
The homeless man piped up, "I found this chew toy onna ground an' I
wanna give it to my dog!"
"It's mine!" Polyester-boy said.
"Sir," Officer Jovanovich said, "This is no chew toy. It's a
prosthetic penis."
The bum's face contorted in revulsion. "Eww! You can have it!" he
said, and ran away.
"Thank God he's gone. I'm Heinrich. May I have my weapon back?"
"Your what?!" Officer Jovanovich stared in disbelief. What kind of
wacko was this guy?
"My weapon," Heinrich said. "You see, I have to stop a group of
hermaphrodites, and God told me to go to a sex change clinic and I need my
weapon, my scepter of power, my boomstick, to complete my mission."
Officer Jovanovich calmly tackled Heinrich, cuffed him, and pronounced
him under arrest.
Heinrich sat, uncomprehending in the back of the squad car. His weapon
was in a plastic bag in the front seat, separated from him by a metal grill
and handcuffs. The backseat doors had no door handles on the inside. The
local law enforcement official was talking into some primitive radio
transmitter. Heinrich had a sinking feeling he was going to be imprisoned.
* * * * * * *
Meanwhile, Kevin Band-Aid was strapped to a table. Samantha was
advancing on him with a syringe. Another Samantha had a scalpel. He
screamed and (you guessed it) blacked out again.
[Mike] "What a weakling. Are you sure he's the one we want?" Samantha
Pi said to Samantha Theta.
"Well, to be able for the process to succeed, the subject must me near
androgynous anyway. Mr. Band-Aid is. Do you think this process would work
on Fabio or Schwartzenagger?" Theta remarked.
"I see your point. Should we anesthetize him?"
"If he wakes up during the operation, I don't want to hear his sissy
girlie scream. Put him under."
* * * * * * *
Heinrich arrived at the police station and was placed in a dank cell.
His cell-mate, Bubba, ridiculed him after hearing his tale told. Dejected,
Heinrich sat in the cell and thought... and thought.
Hey, you!
"What? Is it God again?"
No, that's the other narrator. I'm Mike.
"Saint Michael?"
No.
"Oh, you're so modest."
Yeah, sure. You have to get out of here for anything further to occur.
"Oh, yes, dear saint."
Shut-up and listen. Being omnipotent, I say the cops left the cell
unlocked. Now get outta here.
"Gee, thank you, Messenger of God."
Do you want a happy angel or an angry one?
"A good one, sir!"
Good! Now go.
[Josh] Using the omnipotent abilities of "Saint" Michael, Heinrich was
able to locate the Sex Change Clinic and, on the way, found a quaint little
restaurant that served great hot-dogs and gyros. But since he had none of
the Earth currency, he had to shoot the waitress. He figured, "Heck,
there's probably tons more of them. One won't hurt."
He made his way to the Sex Change Clinic. The building itself looked
normal: two stories, multiple offices. There was a hair salon on the first
floor all the way on the right which looked pretty good.
"No, no! Can't be sidetracked! Must find Sex Change- Is that a
chiropracter?!"
He could feel himself entranced by the magical plastic letters on the
directory: Mr. Wayne Cornhusker, Chiropracter... Room 209. His face and
diaphragm went limp, kind of like Homer Simpson's, as he recalled how good
it felt the last time someone cracked his neck. By the time he snapped out
of it, a small puddle of drool had accumulated on the floor near his feet.
He drifted to stairs and floated up them, lifted by his lust for a good
cracking. If only he had noticed the date on the directory; it had not been
changed in three weeks, and, during that time, the multi-gender clones had
leased out that office after assimilating Mr. Cornhusker and making him into
his current state: Samantha Phi (that's phi; you know, from trig).
* * * * * * *
Meanwhile... in heaven...
"What?!! You did what?!!"
God's voice could be heard thundering through the heavens and even in
the bowels of hell (which were mighty sore since they hadn't moved in
eons!). His attention was pointed in the direction of one of his disciples.
The angel stood tall with a glowing robe covering him and majestic wings,
yet cowered with fear below the almighty majesty that towered before him.
[Nate] "I said a BUD Lite, you goon!" the voice of God thundered. With
the slightest effort from his infinitely vast consciousness, God obliterated
the offending angel.
"If I'd wanted a supernova, I'd have said so!" He grumbled. God
contemplated the ineptitude of His heavenly host. God contemplated also why
it was so dang tough to get good booze in Heaven. "Paradise my ass," He
muttered. "Can't even do beer right." God contemplated this and many other
things, reflecting on how every reference to Him was always capitalized.
Why did the humans insist on pestering Him? He also considered His own
non-existence... Things got fuzzy here; in His own omniscient way, He knew
He wasn't real; He knew He was in a fictional story. But, if He knew
something, He must exist. So, He did exist, but as a fictional character.
This troubled Him. To vent, He caused an earthquake on Earth; being an
angry, vengeful God, this act of destruction pleased Him to no end.
* * * * * * *
Heinrich paused before the door to the chiropracter, considering the
upcoming cracking. He closed his eyes, imagining the popping, crunching,
and crackling he'd soon experience. He opened his eyes, and the noises
continued. They were soon joined by a deep rumbling. Everything began to
shake. In shock at the earthquake, he stumbled back to the top of the
stairs. He tumbled down the stairs and lay in an unconscious heap at the
bottom, oblivious to the divinely inspired disaster raging about him.
* * * * * * *
[Josh] It was the kind of spring that made you think of spring... or
something like that. The grass was greener than green paint, the sky was
bluer that indigo dye, and you don't even want me to start about the
flowers. The flowers... oh, how beautiful, but something's not right. The
ground is trembling- no, shaking forcefully! Everything's going white, and
then-and then- an image is appearing. It's... it's...
"Samantha?... Wait a sec- oh crap!"
Kevin's dream faded into the reality of the uncomfortable stretcher and
those constrictive straps, but there was also a rumbling noise that flooded
his ears. The whole room was shaking and the Samanthas were trying to keep
the medical supplies from falling off the shelves, but that didn't stop one
of the shelving units from swaying full-tilt and coming to rest on the
stretcher Kevin was on (of course, he noticed this, wailed, and passed out-
as he is prone to do).
"Quick! Under the doorway, you two! I'll hide under the stretcher!"
The Samanthas mobilized as quickly as possible and waited out the rest
of the earthquake.
"This is what we get for $1,500 a month? There better be an earthquake
clause in our insurance," Samantha Phi remarked.
"Yeah, right. In Chicago? When's the last earthquake in Chicago?"
replied Samantha Theta sarcastically. Samantha Pi started to assess the
damages, but suddenly stopped cold.
"Uh, girls..."
"What's wrong?"
"I'm splitting."
[Nate] Samantha Theta was stunned. Samantha Pi wasn't supposed to
split for at least another 20 years! Then, to her surprise, Samantha Theta
found she herself was beginning to undergo fission as well!! Her brain went
into a frenzy of thought... the earthquake! The earthquake must have
affected the clones' already unstable bodies!! All three Samanthas rushed
from the room in horror. Their brains weren't full yet! And since each
split got only half the original's brains... Good God! All the splits would
be morons!...
Samantha Omega paused. She couldn't remember what she had been
thinking. She glanced at Samantha Alpha. Samantha Alpha wore the same
confused expression as Samantha Omega. Neither could recall... something
about splitting...? And Band-Aids. Hmm. Oh well. They were hungry.
Samanthas Omega, Alpha, Sigma, Delta, Epsilon, and Gamma all went in search
of donuts. The halls of the Multi Gender Clone Sex Change Clinic and Secret
Rebel Base were a shambles. Everywhere vapid attractive blondes of either
sex were wandering about mumbling to themselves about Band-Aids, donuts, and
greek characters.
Unfortunately for Kevin, (who was, as you recall, trapped beneath a
metal shelving unit) none of the clones could remember what they were to do.
* * * * * * *
Heinrich came to at the bottom of a flight of steps. He was sore all
over. At the top of the stairs, a trio of pretty blonde girls were munching
donuts. Heinrich smiled. They were quite attractive. He closed his eyes,
day-dreaming pleasantly. He leapt to his feet suddenly. "Ohmigod!" he
cried. "Multi-Gender Clones! Get back! Get back!" The three blondes
glanced confusedly at each other. Heinrich scrambled about hurriedly for
his weapon. It had come loose during the quake and was somewhere in the
rubble. He looked so distraught, the three kindly but dumb clones decided
to assist him in looking for whatever it was he searched for so frantically.
[Josh] Heinrich began to think (oh boy!) about the actions of the
clones- now the equivalent of valley girls. "I thought they would be
like... smart, or something."
Heinrich lifted up a piece of debris that used to be a hanging light
and found his "gun" lying there.
"Don't bother yourselves, I found it."
"Oh, okay." one of the blondes returned. "Say, would you like a
donut?"
"Uh, sure."
Samantha Alpha held out a circular shaped pastry.
"This isn't a donut, it's a doughnut."
Samantha Alpha stared blankly at him (actually, that's all she could
do). She tried to comprehend.
"What's the difference?"
"The author."
Heinrich peeked into one of the destroyed rooms and saw three blond
guys. One of them was staring at a stapler, trying to divine its use, and
found out the hard way. He put his finger cautiously between the two
extensions, and one of his twin brothers decided that it would be extremely
funny to squish his finger between them.
The blonde with the staple now in his finger was awestruck at the wound
and the bright red substance flowing out of the puncture. Suddenly, he
froze. The realization that a staple through one's finger should generate a
small amount of discomfort manifested itself in his subconscience (of course
not in so many words; it was probably something like "Oh, wow! I got a
staple through my finger. Wait... a staple through my finger? That's not
good! Waaah!").
Heinrich, seeing this grotesque display of idiocy, felt pity for this
lesser being and comforted him, much as you would comfort a three-year-old.
[Mike] As he continued in this exercise in futility, Heinrich again got
a communiqu� from God.
Heinrich.
"Who is it?"
This is God.
"Really? You sound a lot like that Angel that I spoke with earlier."
Do you doubt me?
-KRAKADOOM!-
"Aaaieee!"
Had enough?
"Yes, Lord."
Good. Now Heinrich, though you have won against the Multi-Gender
Clones-
"I have?"
Who do you think those vacant-eyed blondes are?
"But... but..."
Listen, I'm a busy deity so you'll have to wait intil this gets
published to find out about it. But for now, I have a new mission for you.
"Oh!"
Do you want me to smite you again?
"No, oh most merciful Lord."
Good, now where was I?
"A new mission for me."
Oh, yes, we figured out where the clones were created and by who.
"Whom."
What?
"Whom. You see the people creating are the object of the-"
I DON'T CARE ABOUT GRAMMAR! It's the one thing I wish I'd never
created! In fact, I'll destroy it right now!
-KRAKAD�M!-
Now, I done good with that.
"Um, God?"
Yeah?
"I can still use correct grammar, right?"
I thinks you can.
"Okay, now what is it that made the Multi-Gender Clones?"
Oh, the trig teachers.
"What?!"
Why do you think all the clones all had greek letters for names?
"They did?"
Are you sure you work on this case?
"Yes."
Well, you not get far.
"Sorry."
Incompetent dummyface, go you now get them!
"Who?"
The trig teachers!
"Oh."
Left alone again with the bleeding clone, Heinrich was faced with a
dilemma. He really liked his trig teacher. She had been the positive
influence that started him on the road to the Space Academy. He sat down to
ponder this new dilemma.
* * * * * * *
Mr. Galapagos was upset. His gender clone plan had failed by divine
intervention. He, being an atheist, didn't like it when God stuck his
meddling, non-existant hands into his well laid plans. Hadn't He learned of
separation of church and state? He was obviously infringing on Galapagos'
1st amendment rights! The communist! But Galapagos would have his revenge!
Even if he had to use all of the Secret Trigonometricists Association of
Redmond (S.T.A.R. for short), he would get God, very soon indeed.
[Nate] Mr. Galapagos' difficulties were compounded suddenly when the
narrator decided to edit him out. His secretary was stunned at Galapagos'
sudden disappearance. It was a sight the man would take to his grave:
Galapagos sitting in the overstuffed leather chair with a dour expression,
suddenly replaced by a clown with a big red nose and funny clown shoes. The
secretary laughed at the clown's funny big shoes. "There," said the clown,
channeling the voice of the narrator, "doesn't this give the story a much
better ending?" The secretary called the other trigonometricists into the
room. They gathered 'round the clown, who honked his nose. The trig
teachers doubled over with laughter.
[Mike] This author, not wanting to end this arc and knowing that happy
laughter with clowns is not going to sell, decided to end the tale
differently.
Heinrich burst into the inner sanctum of S.T.A.R. headquarters (which,
ironically, was located in New York) toting his dildo of death. Seeing him,
all disheveled and dusty, holding the instrument, caused the room full of
jovial persons to laugh even harder.
Enraged, Heinrich open fire upon the room, disintegrating the clown and
all the trigonometricists in one fell swoop. He was then teleported back to
the Academy, much to his discomfort.
There, I have made it better!
_Available upon request_
Story Arc 2
Heinrich vs. Adorable IV
Story Arc 3 (unfinished)
Heinrich vs. The Missing Plot
Story Arc 5 (unfinished)
Heinrich vs. The Vending Machine
_Unavailable upon request_
Story Arc 4 (lost)
Heinrich vs. The Girl from the Jazz Club