October/November 2001 – Issue XLVII
ÉCUREUIL ROUGE
As I was sitting, pondering, balancing and debating with myself the other night, my thoughts fell on the subject of rabid squirrels. Not an entirely surprising situation, considering my current job title.
‘Rabid squirrels,’ I thought to myself over a five-minute time period as I made the tea. ‘An extremely powerful race, capable of a multitude of extreme and powerful capabilities. It is a major struggle for us meagre diminutive agents to hold the rabid squirrel forces back for each issue, but we have no choice. Us, the Rabid Squirrel Slayers, are a competent bunch, employing the latest in technology, often whilst still warm, to attempt to defeat those vile enemies. But we are struggling. We need something new. Something valuable. Something opening doorways to vast untapped authority.’
And that is how Rabid Times obtained an interactive index.
The Master Hunter
E-Mail: theMaster@RabidSquirrels.co.uk
Website: http://www.rabidsquirrels.co.uk/
Wapsite: http://tagtag.com/rabid
DIARY OF A MADMAN MR. BROOKS
by Mr. Brooks
DIARY OF A MADMAN AGENT 00’LEARY
by Agent 00'Leary
THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE BEAVER by Bartholomew Beaver
GENETICISING by Agent Misciasci
NO, NOT THE GRIZZLED GIANT SQUIRRELS! by Angry Trapper Squall
THE ASSASSINS: EPISODE 4 by the Master Hunter
EVIL MYSELF: EPISODE 1 by Mr. Brooks
ADD A RABID LINE STORY by various
In recent months I have not contributed a lot to the RSS, preferring to stick mainly to my managerial role as full time slacker in the RSS HQ office, but I feel the events of the past couple of weeks need telling, so as the bulk of the RSS can appreciate the danger into which the Master Hunter frequently throws himself for the protection of mankind. Not to mention the alarming episode in which 00’Leary and agent Beard ended up in women’s clothing.
It was a fine August afternoon and the Master Hunter, me (Mr. Brooks), and 00’Leary were off to Stoke-on-Trent to be picked up to go off on a well earned week of conservation work. We arrived at the station and were immediately met with stony silence from all those we approached, until we came across a young gentleman with dual nationality flourishing a letter headed with the name of our organisation. After a few moments deliberating we were saved the task of one of us introducing ourselves when he approached us and began to converse. Up to this point all was well, but from then it was to get worse. We were herded into an ill-equipped mini bus and driven pell-mell through the Staffordshire countryside to a ramshackle old shack in which we were to sleep. The following morning more horrors were to come – we were once again loaded into the bus and taken deep into squirrel country – to a place known as Alltown Toweres, or some such name, where we were set to work murdering innocent Rhododendrons in the name of conservation – the fascist task master breathing down our necks and spurring us on with a whip and some spurs. We were each issued with tools entirely unsuited to the job and eventually, in my rage I seized a bill-hook (a sort of axe-type-thing), and tried to lop off my thumb. This was a rebellion in vain, for I was simply give a plaster and then hung upside down from a cliff whilst being forced to clear over hanging vegetation.
After several days of such torture we escaped. The Master Hunter, 00’Leary, the man with two countries, and me, Mr. Brooks – not to mention a number of other ‘volunteers’ who had suffered just as much as we. We emerged, blinking into the daylight to discover hordes of people being forced onto what appeared to be some sort of torture devices, they were screaming as they went around, in what must have been terrible pain. We ran on, not wanting to be part of this grim spectacle, and eventually we came to a castle. Venturing in we were herded into an inner chamber where they sealed us in and rotated the room around us in an attempt to addle our already confused minds – that was it 00’Leary could take no more – he went mad. What was most disturbing about this room was the face on the floor made of trees – clearly the work of Wonky Branch, as the locals had been convinced of some sort of legend involving a branch. Once we had affected our escape from this terrible room we went onward, ever seeking the way home, until we came across a selection of boats, rather resembling the official RSS nautical vessel – the Priscilla, assuming innocence we clambered aboard, only to be whisked off on a terrible tour of the most evil spectacles ever witnessed by man or beast – culminating in the terrible vivisection of a dancing hippo. Having made our staggering way out of this place of horrors we were seized by squirrels and forced upon a track, driven in giant acorns by manic squirrels surely to our doom. By this time only the Master Hunter was still sane and he battled furiously until we were all saved – but there is not a completely happy ending to this tale, 00’Leary’s mind, already fragile, is perhaps lost forever as he was later discovered in a little black number parading himself around for all to see. Oh the humanity…
This story was brought to you by Mr. Brooks, in association with the Master Hunter.
No penguins were harmed during its making.
Mr. Brooks.
DIARY
OF A MADMAN AGENT 00’LEARY (LOOK, A RUNNING JOKE!)
Agent 00’Leary opened his – yes – his eyes. So… What had happened? He tried to remember what had happened the previous night. There was something about… yes, and then… oh, yeah, that had hurt…and then…nothing. Of course, 00’Leary was used to nothing passing through his mind, but this was a different type of nothing. It was more…tangible. It had substance, like mauvey-yellow velvet (00’Leary had a very vivid imagination when it came to fabric and tea).
He took stock of the room he was in. It did not seem to be one of his usual OEEES (Overly Elaborate, Easily Escapable Situation) because, for some reason, he did not seem to be in any immediate, if somewhat overly-contrived, danger. There did not seem to be any lasers, or blades in the room. The door had a heavy metal bolt on it, along with a crossbar. This was not an OEEES.
“I’m going to have to come up with some new nomenclature,”
he thought, displaying an unusual amount of Vocabulll Vicab Vokid Words that he knew. He decided to
call this a NAOEEES (Not An Overly Elaborate Easily Escapable Situation (although
he knew the word nomenclature, he was rubbish at it)). He took out his Databug,
which he had decided to call 00’Databug (Told you).
“00’Databug, I want you to take this memo – “
The databug beeped, an astonishing achievement for a creature, which was set to discreet mode.
“Last night, at precisely… 9ish, I was strolling down the bridgeland area of the RSS HQ, where I noticed a rummaging in the bushes. It turned out to be Agent Myself. As I stood in the bushes, talking to myself, I felt a rappatapping on my shoulder. It was the teabug. The Master Slayer was in trouble! Sending Myself off to warn the others, I executed a perfect 3-point dive with double backflip. Once I had got up off the grass (there is no bridge or indeed any rivers in bridgeland) I ran off to assist the Master Slayer with no thought for Myself (but I hoped he would warn the others in time).
“Selflessly, whilst hoping that rescuing the master slayer would earn me a promotion, I ran towards where the teabug had told me the Master Slayer was in trouble. Upon seeing the danger he was in, I-”
But 00’Leary had just noticed what was odd about the NAOEEES. The bolt was inside the door. “ Aha!” thought 00’Leary, dramatically, as he unbolted the door, he pushed it, but id still did not open. “D*mn, he thought” he thought, referring to himself in the 3rd person again, “It’s obviously locked.”
So he climbed out of the window.
The Master Slayer was waiting outside the RSS entrance. He had a picture of 00’Leary’s counterpart, 00’Dreary. It was an unusual sight, he had a square jaw, a blocky haircut, and since he was security guard, he had square eyes from looking at the security monitors all of the time. Even his nose was vaguely cubic. He was also the biggest bore in the RSS.
“This man,” Said the Master Slayer, “This man, is a spy for the Rabid squirrels!”
“No!!”
“Yes!!!”
“Really?!!!!”
“Yes!!!!!”
“How do you know?” asked 00’Leary.
“Well, it’s so obvious, I don’t know why I didn’t spot it before,”
“Well, I don’t see it, what is it about him that makes it so obvious?”
“You mean you can’t see it?”
“No!!”
“Really?!!!”
“Yes!!!!”
“Look at his face.”
“What?”
“Look at his face.”
“Oh, right, sorry… What about his face?”
“You never could get the hang of maths could you?”
“What’s that got to do, got to do with it?”
“What have I told you about putting song lines into conversations?”
“Okay, okay-“
“So who’s sorry now?”
“Hey!”
“Okay, anyway – He’s Double-oh-Dreary, right?”
“Yeees,”
“and he’s very square, right?”
“So?”
“Well, if Double-oh-Dreary was a Double Agent, that would make him…”
“Squared!”
“EXACTLY!”
00’Leary looked into the distance and imagined a camera zooming in dramatically on him. This was bad. A double agent in the RSS, this could mean anything this could – oh, no…
“He doesn’t know about my secret brews of tea, does he?”
“I hope not, for all our sakes…”
They jumped, as a dramatic Trombone riff (?) echoed across the grounds.
Once they had landed, The Master Slayer (TMS) Issued orders for all Agents not currently on action status to step forward to volunteer to perform a mission to chase after 00’Dreary to catch him to find out how much he had told the Rabid Squirrels (Mission codename: Step-two-two-Perform-two-Chase-two-info). As the RSS HQ was operating on a basic crew anyway, this left 00’Leary, Agent Ellz, Agent Morris, and the Teabug.
“Agent 00’Leary, you will need both your wit and cunning for this mission, have you got enough teabags?” TMS said.
“Sir, I am hurt that you should say that.”
“Why? It’s true.”
“I know, but I’ve got a headache.”
“Ah.”
THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE BEAVER
Hello Rabid Squirrel Slayers. This is your good friend and ally Bartholomew Beaver. I'm having one of my soldiers deliver this message, otherwise, you'd probably not understand a word I'd be saying. I'd like to fill you in on a recent mission the I.L.B and I partook.
We were scoping out the Central Alberta RS command base. Recently there had been slightly less Rabid Squirrel attacks, and casualties were at an all time low. We were beginning to realize that we had the upper hand. My Adviser of Offence advised me (because that's what he does) that an all scale attack could quite possibly eliminate the entire RS base. My military leaders and I held a 3 ½ hour conference. Luckily they had some nice beech bark for snacks, so it wasn't too terribly boring. At the end of the conference, we had decided. It was time to eliminate the squirrel base once and for all. I had a crack team of my best minds think up a perfect strategy.
At 2:00 am, 18 of my best soldiers snuck near to the base using our incredible beaver agility and stealth. Our Soldiers positioned themselves around the base. At exactly 2:06, 18 darts dipped in perfume struck their targets of the guards guarding (because that's what they do) the base. The guards instantly died, and the rest of the workers and soldiers arrived. We beavers are extremely good at quickly making very durable and highly camouflaged bases. Our entire army in the area was positioned in a base not 14 feet from the squirrels’ base, underground, and completely undetectable. Over the next 2 days, we sent in numerous disguised beavers for reconnaissance. They had learned of the best time to strike, which was 7:06 am when most of the squirrels were eating and chewing through bricks (a preferred activity, I suppose). A fortnight later our attack was to begin.
139 of the soldiers were armed with B-390s, a beaver engineered weapon that fires 30 poisoned darts per second. Our poison was, of course, perfume. Highly lethal to the RS, but harmless to us. We had 20 snipers up in nearby trees, armed with C-942 rifles with 10x controllable scope and laser sights. 40 Grenadiers were positioned with smoke bombs filled with L'eau de Rivière, the beavers’ favourite perfume. At 7:04, a soldier dressed as a pizza guy knocked on the door of the base. A heavily armed Squirrel answered.
"Yo, your pizza's here man, with 10 minutes to spare. That'll be $14.26 bucks."
"Wha pissa, I not orda a pissa." replied the squirrel in a hissing low voice that sounded like the ripping of drywall.
"Are you sure? Double cheese, pepperoni, human raw flesh and slices of kidney?" The squirrels eyes went wide. He grabbed the pizza and pushed the beaver 10 feet away. Quickly opening the box, the squirrels eyes went wide as the pink vapour surrounded him. He fell dead instantly. The hidden base suddenly exploded as the soldiers, lead by me, of course, leaped out and yelled out their war cry "Remember The Mickey!!!" The first Squirrels were easy pickings for the snipers. Then the RS snipers appeared at the top, and started taking out our men. We lost 13 soldiers and 2 snipers before they were eliminated. Then the main attack force came out before we had even reached the base. How could they have gotten out here so fast, it was like they knew...
My thoughts were ended as I felt myself being shot by 20+ darts in the back. I fell down and looked behind me. One of my own beavers was holding a gun pointed at me. My third in command, and personal friend was now about to shoot me again. His eyes were blood red and his teeth were now long and jagged. He was rabid. I looked around and saw that others, all those who had been sent in as recon had all been rabid-fied (made up word, if you can't figure out what it means, your obviously new to the war). Of course! That's how the RS knew! I could feel the poison in the darts start working. I got a taste in my mouth. I recognized it. L'eau de Rivière! I wasn't poisoned, I was groomed. I leapt up, and shot the rabid beaver square between the eyes. My 3rd's eyes rolled back, and he fell down, lifeless. "He was an excellent soldier, and a better friend." The other beavers also had defeated the rab-beavers.
Now, back to the battle at hand. The squirrels were approaching fast. Bullets and darts whizzed by my head. I ducked down and blew away 5 of the RS. Smoke bombs were launched into the crowd of squirrels, and many were lost on their side. A new wave of squirrels rushed out wearing gas masks. All around me, I heard the screams of my army as the new wave opened fire. We were suffering heavy casualties, but we were getting the upper hand. Some squirrels, seeing the effects of our weapons on them, abandoned their own for ours. They were quickly eliminated, harmless without weapons. After 24 minutes, it was obvious that the squirrels were losing. I leapt into the air and yelled the advance. My army pressed their way towards the base.
We rushed in, taking out everything that was in our way. 40 soldiers came up the stairs with me to take the base, and the rest stayed outside. We were met with heavy defences, but after 4 minutes we were in the main control room. I gasped and my eyes went wide as I saw it. There, in front of me was a huge towering cyborg rabid squirrel, ten feet tall and 5 feet wide, loaded with ammo down to his toe lasers. We opened fire, but it was no use. The darts bounced off of the cyborg’s leather like skin and metal. The cyborg laughed and opened fire. I leapt to the side as it quickly took out ¼ of my men. It's red eyes turned towards me. It launched a missile at me, which I dodged swiftly. The explosive hit a wall panel behind me. I looked and saw that live wires we jutting from the hole in the wall. I grabbed the wires, dived between its legs and shoved the wires into its back. It let out a high-pitched scream and the red eyes slowly closed. The giant metallic evil fell. Looking out the window, I saw my men rejoicing. It was over, we had won. The main base of Alberta had been destroyed, I would not be long before we would take over the rest and finally rid our province of the Rabid plague.
We are still wondering how the beavers were rabid for a fortnight, and we didn't notice. I hope it is just a beaver thing, because if the squirrels have successfully hid their rabid features, we may be in big trouble. This is Bartholomew Beaver, leader of the I.L.B. signing off.
As per instructions, I've created a biological hunter-seeker
to annihilate rabid squirrels. I volunteered one of the more annoying
people in my physics class, and removed his head. After applying various weird
chemicals that I found on some curb, I got it to grow arms, legs, a second
mouth on the back, and some bug-like antennae (not sure what they're for, but
they look cool). I then kept it locked in a closet for a few days, feeding it
nothing but rabid squirrels that I captured. One of the problems so far
is that the squirrel goes in one mouth and out the other, but the squirrel
still gets chewed up. All I need to do is follow with a mop, and I'm set.
Cont.
I cut the head loose today, and it did fairly well. It managed to chew up seven
squirrels before it fell over and started singing rap songs. I'm not sure
if this is due to some form of food poisoning, mental intrusions from the past,
or simple stupidity. I will have to look into this in the Mk. II
version. In the meantime, I got it to stop singing and start hunting
again, but the eighth squirrel was carrying a demolition charge, and it blew up
when the head started chewing. Back to the drawing board.
Agent Misciasci
NO,
NOT THE GRIZZLED GIANT SQUIRRELS!
I have collected
valuable information on the rabid squirrels possible population predicament
(rsppp?) well anyway at the website http://eelink.net/EndSpp/ type
in the word Squirrel in the endangered species search box and they will tell
you many a species that are on the brink! We are winning the war I believe.
Unfortunately I cannot find any information on extinct squirrels (which, if
thought about is a VERY BAD THING, because it proves squirrels ability to
survive, or use computers.) Well, then that said (or typed?) I will get back to
my rabid squirrel testing.
Signed out,
Angry Trapper Squall
Unlike the majority of the world’s population, I was currently following a giant green gaudy frog that had fallen from the sky and eaten my companion, Tuesday. The frog was slow, so to entertain myself as I stalked it, I sang an ancient Celtic hunting song, which goes a little something like this.
“I like hunting, I like hunting, I like hunting, and I like to hunt.”
In all honesty, which is not much to be honest, which I’m not, I was enjoying this moment of solitude. The life of an assassin is not a lonely one, and this break from the incessant silence of Tuesday was almost slightly pleasurable. But as in any soap opera, something always turns up to spoil the moment.
Zap! Right through the place where my right ear used to be, before it was just blown off by something that said zap. Zap, ditto, through my other right ear. By this time I had already dived behind a large rock for cover, so on second thoughts that second zap-creating projectile must have missed me. Just clearing things up.
Risking a risky look around, I realised that we had reached a pond. And not just any pond, for this was the biggest pond this side of Lake Ontario (I had clearly followed the fat frog all the way to Canada). ‘Ah,’ I concluded. ‘This must be the lair of the frog that had eaten Tuesday.’ And I was right. We had reached Frog Lake.
Zap! Another homing frog shot right through me. It was no good; I was going to have to move. But how could I get Tuesday back? His eater had dived into the pond, and rabid squirrels are incompetent in water. But...
Continued next issue. Taken from ‘The Writings of Mustafa (and Tuesday)’.
It was a quiet night, a night like any other, apart from the
quietness, and the Master Hunter sat in Slayer HQ, drinking tea with 00'Leary
and discussing the events of the day. All seemed well and the Master Hunter was
just agreeing that yes, it had been an unusually large aubergine, and indeed,
seemed rather sinister, when in burst Mr. Brooks, looking as dishevelled as
00'Leary (i.e., more dishevelled than the average bear).
"Hello, hello, what's all this shouting? We'll have no trouble here"
spake 00'Leary, but the Master Hunter pacified him with a string of sausages
and turned to Mr. Brooks, "Why do you enter thus?" he enquired of his
second in command, "Is there a problem?". Mr. Brooks looked about
wildly, then sat down suddenly. He breathed deeply and began to talk quickly.
He told a terrible tale of excess adjectives and rogue ramblings, until the
Master Hunter got bored of his saga and made him say what the matter was. Mr.
Brooks shifted uncomfortably and suddenly gave a yelp, he exclaimed
"Myself has gone mad!!!!!!". The Master Hunter carefully counted the
exclamation marks and diagnosed the chronicle as truthful. It appeared that
Special Agent Myself, the RSS's crack spy and assassin had finally given under
the pressure.
What were the RSS to do? They needed a plan, and they needed something to calm
down Mr. Brooks. Something stronger than tea. With a quailing voice and a
shaking hand the Master Hunter ordered 00'Leary to make Mr. Brooks some coffee.
What will happen to our heroes? Will Myself be found and executed? Will Mr.
Brooks recover from his ordeal? Will we find out what the ordeal was? Find out
in the next exciting instalment.
Mr. Brooks
ADD A RABID LINE STORY of thee terminating parte
Grabbing a cemented Brian Perkins, petrified Carol Smiley, several rumblemites, a Jabberwock, three Jub Jub birds and of course a frumous Bandersnatch, the Master Hunter went back to HQ in order to set up a museum. He had got but half way when [109] Brian Perkins’ head fell off and the super, ultra, mega, instant dry, known-only-to-agents glue was found missing. [110] Only to be found not missing but spread all over the HQ door! There was only one thing left to do - perform the dance of running around in many little circles as fast as inhumanly possible! But would it work on a day like this? [111] It would have, should have, could have, but the evil rabid squirrel mercenary Althena was throwing anti-circle dance hippity hop spikes! Suddenly the worlds most pointy, largest, yet smallest, yet most medium sized, yet no size at all, yet all sizes at once, cheese slice decapitated her pinky nail! [112]
Who was that masked...man? [113] Why it was Lord Masked Man! “Stop you squirrelish fiend or I'll [115] try to remember what tense we are in!” (Various strained thinking noises)... LMM continued this rampage of extreme cranially strain when all of a sudden he began to dance like a madman with a major problem. 00'Leary (who had just eaten 50 jalapeno peppers, causing the rumblemites infesting him to spontaneously combust) ran up and performed a cavity search on LMM only to pull a squirrel out of his rectal cavity! After some quick interrogation and torture he discovered that he was part of the now testing branch of Anal Spelunking Rabid Squirrels (not anal spelunking squirrels ASRS).
Just then [116] Althena shot up into the air and exploded into a multitude of coloured sparks due to an attempt at eating the cheese LMM threw. A chorus of "Ooohs" and "Aaahs" came from everyone around. Which gave away the fact that there were a whole lot of squirrels in the surrounding area. So [117] the RSS knew that this could be it: they could capture nearly all the rabid squirrels on earth (it WAS a spectacular fireworks show, and squirrels were strangely attracted from the furthest reaches of earth to its fiery glow). The Master Hunter motioned to the rest of the RSS to back quietly to the base. Why they would do this is unknown, as firework shows are notoriously ear splitting, this one even more so. Anyway, back in the base, the plan was devised. "I believe that the only way to cure these squirrels of rabidity is to construct a small aubergine. All those in favour say aye."
"AYE" came the cry from almost every rabid squirrel on earth.
"Shhhhh, we're coming up with a way to catch you" said Mr Brooks,
with considerable applied irritability.
"Sorry" came the reply from the rather large group of squirrels, who slumped away to watch the rest of the fireworks (by this time, Althena's explosions had died out, and politicians were now exploding the length and breath of Britain... could this mean that Althena was a politician? Anyway, I digress). Back to the plan.
It was decided that the scheme was that [118] the RSS would read aloud various Redwall books in which the squirrels are often the good guys, which would cause the squirrels heads to explode like in Mars Attacks. They thought it a flawless plan. [119] Little did they know that the antics of Brian Jacques' rodents would inspire the rabid squirrels... Now thinking that THEY were the good guys, the rabid squirrels fought with increased valour and virtue.
The Evil Rabid Squirrel Slayers (my how the tables have turned) were disappointed
with the results of their previous plan, so spontaneously [121] ate each other. After five
minutes of frenzied chewing someone pointed out that it would be more prudent
not to eat each other so instead they began to run around shouting "P'Tang
Yang Kipperbang!" at the tops of their voices until the squirrels got
utterly bemused by the dastardly tactics of the evil RSS and ran home to devise
new plans of how to conquer them. King Fuzzball the Good now had a problem: if
he was good he couldn't eat his subjects could he. But then he thought -
"Ah, but if I eat my subjects then by virtue of me being good, that will
be recognised as a good act! Ha-ha!"
Fuzzball the Good then sent out a raiding party, under the command of Nice Notbackstabber - the moniker under which Sly was now operating, to scout out the RSS positions, with the most succulent squirrel's in the most dangerous positions. A few days later the party returned, they had [122] not completed anything because they were still trying to figure out what the last addition to the story meant. (Got me). They realised [123] that they needed to talk in more simple terms. Fuzzball again sent out a group of squirrels to find the RSS positions, with the intention of eating the dead when they were brought back.
After a few days the group returned, they had [124] been hit on the head with V-chips (oh the irony), which had cured them of their thinking they were the good guys. The marvellous plan had been thought up by Rabid Squirrel 143, who had recently arrived from Iran. He had reported that one of his contacts had discovered that when silly puddy, hair tonic, and industrial strength grease remover were mixed together and microwaved, it formed a giant squirrel hating creature. The only problem was, how to power it. Instantly, the answer was found. The dead corpses. Once again, it seemed a flawless plan. [125]
Then Stever jumped out of his hole (which hole I don’t know) and said, "Here I come to save the Day, Stever is on the way!" [127] Then Stever jumped back into his hole (which hole I don’t know) and the squirrel hating creature laughed and [128] large tears rolled off its face, and landed on Squeek-X. The squirrels seemed unaffected, until a loud hissing sound sent all the squirrels in that area screaming and scratching themselves. The tears of the creature were actually hydrochloric acid (who'd of thunk it). Soon one quarter of Squeek-X was disintegrated into nothing. Suddenly a glaze came over the monster's eyes, and then [129] the squirrels realised that if they didn't do something quick, the monster would cry their base into nothing. [131]
Fortunately (for the rabid squirrels, anyway) the Giant Squirrel Hating Creature ate through fuel like a hamster in Cadbury’s World. The decaying rabid squirrel corpses were now but exhausted. 00'Leary turned up at the scene of the grime, removed the Panasonic batteries from his walkman, and inserted them into the left ear of the Giant Squirrel Hating Creature. This had no effect, so the Master Hunter and Mr. Brooks cleverly moved them to the battery sockets. The Giant Squirrel Hating Creature began re-crying, and once again, the rabid squirrels in the Squeek-X base looked doomed (doomed, I tell you). [135]
But just then the Squeek-X exploded due to the fact 00'Leary never put 2 batteries of the same date in his battery operated appliances. So the base was still destroyed and the GSHC was also gone. So all of the RSS ran around singing "Du bist einen gurke!" which they had learned in a Foreign Language class. Just as they completed verse 4,356,546,560.67545 the newly reunited "Super Evil Nasty Not Nice Lumberjack Monty Python Rabid Squirrels" came forth spewing words and objects such as [136] "mimble", and "hanky" and objects to match. The situation looked dire indeed. What would the Agents do? How would they get out of this one? They didn't know, so in a moment of desperation they summoned Agent Ellz and threw him at the offending creatures, with the instructions to make a large weapon of sorts. The other agents then turned and ran, all the while glaring at 00'Leary for his incompetence in the field of batteries ('I thought they were buttercups', 'yes, well shut up then').
The agents ran and ran until they were sick, and the following squirrels slipped in it, and fell upon their terrible faces, their bloodied fangs (they had eaten Ellz) becoming covered in yesterday’s dinner. The agents looked back and guffawed as one, continuing on to safety. When they thought they were safe they paused to re-group.
As they stood around getting their collective breath back the Master Hunter noticed something strange about Agent Multitool, he wasn't his usual enthusiastic self, and there was something about his eyes... [137] He had no eyebrows! This meant only one thing! He was a diseased pigeon! Why am I ending every sentence with an exclamation mark! And that was a question! The pigeon realised that he had been discovered and jumped out of his human costume! He proceeded to start pecking Angry Trapper Jupiter!
"YAAAUUGHHH!!!" screamed Jupiter! The Master Hunter grabbed a nearby
foot (thrown by the explosion) and attempted to hit the bird off of Jupiter's
head! He missed by a pigeon and struck Angry Trapper Jupiter square in the
cranium, and sent him flying into a puddle of the GSHC, unconscious! The puddle
grabbed Multitool and with a "ybleyarfenhimer!" the pigeon sank to
its death! With an unconscious Angry Trapper and the squirrels gaining, the RSS
would have to think fast! [138]
Just then, Special Agent Ghaleon flew by with a helicopter that he borrowed from the US Army, and dropped down a rope for them to climb up. He told them that the UNICRATT team will handle this, right when they came by with their C-130 transport planes and their Assault Humvee things that have those thirty millimetre gun turrets on them, with many soldiers following, carrying MP-5s fitted with grenade launchers on them. In eight minutes, they killed off many of them, but they knew there would be more.
The Agents and Ghaleon flew back to the RSS base. He told them that he found out that [139] Forrest Gump would give them teeth. [140] The Agents were both overjoyed and underjoyed, they were delighted by the prospect of teeth, but needed none, so the offer was rendered useless - until Toothless Jim pointed out that he needed teeth, and anyway, couldn't teeth be used as weapons in the eternal war against the evil rabid squirrels? The Master Hunter made a decision, they would accept Forrest Gump's teeth under one condition – [141] that the teeth would actually be small atomic warheads and that toothless Jim would not be told. So Forrest agreed and ran the teeth over.
Once Forrest got to RSS headquarters the squirrels regrouped
and were on the attack. They had already flanked the area and taken over the
helicopter. The only way to defeat this invincible force was to use the atomic
teeth. So [142] they convinced
agent Jupiter that he was the tooth fairy (he was still a bit brain-scrambled).
They dressed him up in a pink dress and lace wings (how humiliating) and made him
fly over the rabid squirrels (it's amazing what one can do when one doesn't
know what one can't do) dropping teeth and saying, "Put these under your
pillows and you'll get what's coming to you." in a high pitch voice. He
threw the atomic teeth on the crowd of squirrels. The squirrels danced with
glee and ran home to go to sleep (where their home is, I don't know). Now it
was all a matter of the RSS activating the trigger device. [143]
Yes my friend the squirrels danced with glee and other such frivolities, and
they danced to their favourite punk tunes by the evil squirrel punk band 'The
Adulescents uk' not knowing that at RSSHQ the slayers (new slayer Buffy
included) were also dancing and making merry to the crazy pulsating sounds of
'The Squirrel Hunters' a stupid but vicious pair of squirrel hunting musicians
from Doncaster. Why were the slayers making merry so, why... because the
trigger device had a hidden doomsday capability, should any squirrels survive
the blast they would be haunted by the awful refrains of the last 'Dollar' LP
in their sensitive ears for the rest of their lives, obviously rendering them
harmless. Slayer Buffy, a technological wizard, had engineered an aural
demoniser into the trigger device as a special precaution. Forrest Gump farted
loudly [144] and Buffy died in
the anal excretion of methane and all the other agents quickly ran outside
screaming "The horror! Oh the Nasal Horror!" Then Ghaleon ran in with
an idea, only to be dragged out by Forrest Gump who had not warned the other
agents that he was about to perform the sickening releasal but instead quietly
donned a gas mask of powerful proportions. Forrest said, "this has
happened before and this fellow will be out for a 3 to 4 days."
So in the meantime the other agents decided to collect a great many fans and
attempt to air out their HQ and set off the device before sunrise when the
squirrels would awaken. In an attempt to stop the foolish mistake they were
making, Jupiter screamed, "Get me the flying chimp outta this accursed
fairy suit!!!" So the agents made another mistake and turned on very loud
music in order to drown out the voice of Jupiter. Finally Jupiter used one of
the teeth to blow up the radios and screamed, "you are blowing the gas in
the direction the squirrels went off, and the music will likely awaken them you
gully dwarf brained cheese curds! Why just look at [145] the state of today's economy. It's collapsing all over the
world and the ensuing global recession will give the squirrels just the
springboard they need to seize power! Won't you please heed my warning,
please!!!" and then he fell silent as at that moment from the sky came a
bat. One of Lord Sleekwing's finest scouts, "Sirs, I bring grave
news", said he and proceeded to tell the gathered RSS [146] the good news. "I have been
granted the power to turn anything into Glod, a small slightly annoyed dwarf,”
he said excitedly. "I’m sure we can put this to some use."
Then Bap the baker leapt to his feet and cried, [147] "Let’s bake a pie of mine!" So after they went to
Emeril studios and turned Emeril into Glod they baked a pie out of him and the
Two Fat Ladies. After a long and disturbing meal of E & TFL which he ate to
be nice to Bap. They tested it on one of the captive rabid squirrels in an
attempt to discard every bit of the wretched stuff as soon as possible... After
several dots the results turned out to be in the favour of the [148] infamous Toothful Jim, who was
yet to discover that the teeth his kind friends had given him were miniature
nuclear warheads. He snatched the abbreviated meal from the captive rabid
squirrel hoard, and was about two-thirds of the way to chewing it when:
"Stop!"
Phew. The Master Hunter had come along just in time to save the local world
from total annihilation via the jaws of senility. He stole the meal, and
Toothful Jim, and swallowed them both down with a glass of water.
The captured rabid squirrels were taking advantage of the distractions by [149] poisoning all the tea bags in
Slayer HQ. They were getting on quite well with this and were quite happy in
their mission to kill the RSS by poisoned tea, but what they didn't know was
that lurking in the corner was 00'Leary's teabug. The most docile guard ever.
After watching the squirrels and doing nothing for quite some time the teabug
still did nothing, until one of the squirrels noticed it.
Outside Slayer HQ Special Agent Myself was standing guard. Suddenly all the
windows blew out and there was a great loud booming sound. The teabug had gone
off.
The End? [150]
Indeed. Let us continue. Go to:
http://members.sitegadgets.com/RSS/story.html
[151]
“I'm against hunting; in fact I'm a hunt saboteur. I go out the night before and shoot the squirrel.”
(c) 2001 Rabid Publications