Volume 10 - Issue 5
29-April-2001
I had a few moments with nothing to do last week, so I manufactured a new boy band. Wait – hear me out before you shoot me. This boy band is made from five rapping rabid squirrels. Their first song is ‘Teeth of Glory’, but that’s not important. What is significant is that I intend to send this band to the next pop stars party in London, thereby condemning all irritating pop groups to death by squirrel. Not bad, eh? This is the first time us Slayers and the rabids have ever managed to work together on a project, but we have decided it will be mutually beneficial.
A new mission: Consquirrelly Theory, is available now.
The Master Hunter
theMaster@RabidSquirrels.co.uk
My foolish lizard kin are now crawling their way back to me after seeing the fate that became their fellow conspirators and those who lacked faith. Those that stayed loyal to me throughout are being given the task of overseeing the enslavement of the unfaithful, soon my kingdom will be back to full strength - albeit a strength built on the blood of the masses by the hated oppressors, but a strong kingdom nonetheless. I trust you are keeping my skinks well, they do not like to be eaten - they will bite back. I must go now - there are a few last traitors trying to burn down my palace. DEATH TO THE UNBELIEVERS!!!!
I thought that I was on top of this problem, but it would
appear otherwise. Since our last correspondence - yesterday I believe, a number
of things have occurred. Firstly, as I rushed off to defend my home against
revolutionary scum, incited to riot by the attack of the squirrels - I have
reason to believe that they released some sort of noxious substance which
caused my lizards to become delusional, I had the misfortune to trip over a
small Polynesian fisherman who had been brought in for questioning regarding a
separate matter and I was sent sprawling across the room. As I fell I noticed,
out of the corner of my eye a small fizzling spark - a fuse. I called for one
of my elite bodyguards to investigate and a particularly large and threatening
specimen went over to have a look. He discovered a rogue chameleon who had
sneaked in disguised as someone in a convincing disguise with a bomb in the
shape of an armadillo that had clearly been designed to be inconspicuous enough
to be released into the palace without causing too much disturbance. The
chameleon was taking away for mental rediscovery and brainwashing and a few
short hours later he became one of my most skilled spies but the bomb was left
unattended in the ensuing excitement and nothing further was done about it. As
you can probably imagine this was, with the advantage of hindsight, a mistake.
The bomb went off and did considerable damage to a nice little Renoir I had
recently acquired. A small horde of lizards entered my palace through the
secret door behind the painting, which was left exposed by the blast. The
lizards quickly gained control of the Keep, but the outer regions of my palace
are still mine.
I mentioned that a number of things occurred - the second was another attack by
the squirrels, they are clearly trying to wipe out lizard kind for good (well,
bad really, but that's not a term of speech is it?). The squirrels surrounded
the Palace and attacked us, climbing through those exciting little slits you
fire arrows out of and eating us from the nose down. They released their
noxious substance again and this time, I myself bore the brunt of it and had to
go and lie down for a while, fighting a terrible urge to overthrow myself and
burn my pyjamas.
The third thing that happened was that I forgot my mother-in-law's birthday. If
you have a mother-in-law you may well understand the gravity of this heinous
action, but bear this in mind and pity me - my mother-in-law is a very large
Komodo dragon.
All things considered it has not been a good day.
Eponymous Biro, Lizard King (just about)
I was recently promoted to angry trapper, making me Angry Trapper Weasel, instead of Agent Weasel. While being promoted, I received a troop of soldiers. I took half of my platoon, and went marching through the deep jungles of... Georgia. I spotted a little abandoned military camp of RSS agents. I found many dead bodies, a few rabid squirrel carcasses, and some sort of a smell. Not the dead body smell but a different one. I told my troops to hold their position, while I went back to my house/base.
I returned later with my dog. My troops said they heard noises, but nothing really major happened. I got my dog to trace the strange smell, leading us to a camp of rabids. There were a good fifty or more stationed there. I decided to check back the next day, giving myself a bit of time to prepare. While I was preparing, I got my neighbour, Agent Dylan, to upgrade my mechanical arm/anti-rabid missile launcher to a mechanical arm/anti-rabid missile launcher/twin machine gun/laser cannon, and I got my dog some biscuits. We returned the next day, this time with my whole platoon, due to the large amount of rabids. I told them to surround the camp on the hills around it. My dog was stationed... next to me. You may wonder why I brought my dog along, well I forgot to mark the trail to the camp. My dog had the great idea to start digging through my shirt pocket for a dog biscuit, and found one. I tried to get it away, but he growled and trotted away, eating the biscuit. Unfortunately, Agent Dylan had given me some stale biscuits that were even crunchier and noisier. The base was alert.
I signalled my troops to prepare for heavy fire. The rabids started to call for back up after we destroyed a good bit of the troops. They got some flying squirrels in to bomb my troops. Luckily I was pretty far away from the troops that were bombed. They all died except for one who lost his legs and hands. My dog was trained to kill, so he ran into battle, though he wasn’t supposed to. I chased after him into battle, but they already had some rabids out armed with laser eyes. They fired at the dog, disintegrating its legs. I suppose you could say I was as mad as flies in a fruit jar at this moment. I fired my machine guns, anti-rabid missile launcher, and my laser cannons at the same time blowing away fifteen, maybe twenty rabids. My troops ended up killing the rest of the flying squirrels, and I killed all of the ground troops. I looked at the bloody stump of my dog. The poor thing was still alive. I had another one of my brilliant ideas. I radioed Agent Dylan to come in with his hovercraft machine (I swear that guy can think up some marvellous ideas) and he arrived soon enough. I don’t know for sure, but I bet all my dog remembers was white light, major pain, and maybe twinkies. I asked him if he could implant rockets on the dog's feet rather than legs. He then said that he would see what he could do.
I returned the next day to his lab, and neither he, nor my dog were there. I walked further into an open field behind his lab, and saw my dog flying around doing flips and loops in mid-air. He then opened his mouth and fired some hi-powered laser blasts out of his mouth. So now I have a dog/hovercraft/laserbeam cannon, and a mechanical arm/anti-rabid missile launcher/twin machine gun/laser cannon. Well that pretty much wraps up my report.
Angry Trapper Weasel
I regret to inform you that there have been various sightings of rabid squirrels in Texas. I myself have spotted a clan of more than fifty snipers in the woods behind my house. They seem highly dangerous and we consider them to be heavily armed. They are also very intelligent. They seem to know all of our plans for killing them off. I think there's a leak from the inside of our agency. They seem to know all of our attack positions. We have lost three new recruits due to there knowing of our plans. I do not know how many corrupt agents we have exactly, but I will not rest until I find out
Dear Master Hunter, As you should remember in my last letter to you, I told you about the corrupt agents that have been giving the squirrels our top secret information. I have found one agent who will remain anonymous until further information is given to us. We got as much information as we could out of him. He told us their plans, their base camp, and who their leader is. Acorn. She apparently has been sent here on a special assignment. Don't worry, sir, we have plans for killing her off. If we can't kill her, then we will stop at nothing to capture her. We will not go along with our plans until you give us the go-ahead. If you don't mind, please put this letter in the Rabid Times also. E-mail me back with your answers or suggestions. Also, we our holding our prisoner in solitary confinement. We our still getting information from him as we speak.
One of the leaks in our agency belonged to Belal Safi. He didn't sign on but I put him with my group to train him like others that wanted to sign in. I didn't know He would cause this much trouble. We tortured him until he gave us the answers we needed. The last and most important piece of information was that the snipers have a dynamite stash in the weapons area of their base. We have not made plans on how to get to it yet, but we will notify you when we do. Also, like I said before, we will not commence in operations until you say so. Belal was told never to join or come near any member of the RSS. He will be under close surveillance until further notice.
Agent Aaron Sexton
I was walking around the other day, and I was just enjoying
the weather. Gee, it sure is nice out. But wait, a gang of young rabid
squirrels were oppressing the liberties of an elderly woman. I couldn't sit
idly by while such an injustice was going on. I ran up to the bunch, who had
strange tattoos that read RS-13, and used my hydraulic pistons to kick one
squirrel's face in. It was beautiful, you should've seen the eyeballs sitting
in a grey mass of brains on the street. Next, I used the 9mm reciprocating
minigun I had installed into my new and improved legs to tear a gaping hole
into the chest of another. About this time, the remaining gang of young rabid
squirrels figured out what was happening. One gave me a nasty bite on my left
hand, leaving me with only nine fingers. But my flamethrower (yep - right leg)
ignited the bugger on fire. This was extremely hysterical. He tore around
yelling (obviously unaware of the "stop, drop, and roll" technique)
and actually lit up two more of his compadres. It is true, rabid squirrels are
extremely flammable. With this turn of events, the remaining squirrels turned
their pansy butts and ran away. I wouldn't let them off that easy. Two plasma
bolts ripped through each of their sternums. Fun.
The elderly lady was much appreciative. Her name is Mrs. Stewardson. But it
doesn't matter much, since two patrol cars pulled up and arrested me for my
"cruel actions toward living beings." That's alright, I spent a few
days in jail working on my accuracy. These new weapons are hard to aim.
I got bored sitting there, and really didn't like my cellmate, who thought I
was some kind of very masculine woman. But he left me alone after my piston-fed
foot landed in his groin region. Then I utilized my laser beam to cut a hole
through the wall of the cell, and I made my escape.
I hope there is no warrant for my arrest. I really don't want to be some kind
of rogue fugitive who is making his escape for the system, and being a vigilant
justice server at the same time. Seems like a movie I saw once.
Anyway, the local leader of the Rabid Squirrels has offered me a summit. I
really don't know what a summit is, but I’ll go. I hear there are going to be
beverages and refreshments.
Angry Trapper Klein Baen
Here is you destroy the rabid squirrel race without soiling
human hands:
Gather dead rabid squirrels and build a skeleton body structure for the
squirrel. Put the skin of the rabid squirrel over the robotic skeleton
and set the artificial brain function to, "destroy like race!"
With the artificial rabid squirrel starting wars with it's own kind, the rabid
squirrels will slowly destroy themselves. The surviving race will either
be the human-made robots or the real rabid squirrels. Whichever is the
victor, they will be weakened and vulnerable to attack from outside species.
Therefore eliminating the rabid squirrels AND making good use of their
bodies!!!
Agent Dave Buchanan
This is Special Agent Myself requesting back up. I am presently inside King Fuzzball and will probably be digested any moment now. I managed to convince him I was an Aspirin and he swallowed me whole. Any assistance that anyone could offer would be gratefully received, I can’t tell you my exact coordinates as I can’t see out, but if you see an unusually large squirrel, please cut him open to see if I’m inside, I really would appreciate it.
Special Agent Myself (undercover – as Fuzzball’s headache cure)
This is Special Agent Myself, just writing to let you know that I successfully escaped from Fuzzball – I tickled his tonsils so he was sick and then I ran away. I am currently in bed recovering from this terrible ordeal. Any ‘Get Well Soon’ cards or grapes or anything would be greatly appreciated.
Special Agent Myself (undercover – under covers)
This is Agent Dylan, you may remember me but if you don't I will refresh your memory. I reported to you that I was leading an attack on a LARGE rabid base near my home on the eastern US coast. The battle was a slaughter; Agent Weasel and I led the attack along with a squadron of bats on the rabids. Earlier the night before we had set up ammo caches in different strategic points around the base so as we moved in towards the base our ammo would replenish. The rabids were completely unsuspecting of our attack, we caught them while they were sleeping. I know it may seem cold-blooded to attack while they are asleep but it was the only way. We attacked with our M-16A2 assault rifles with attached M203 grenade launchers against the rabids. Thanks to the help of our slightly twisted yet loyal friend, Agent Sean, he developed rabid piercing bullets which tore straight through the rabid's skin and into the one behind them. As I mentioned before, it was a slaughter. The battle lasted about 2 hours, and all rabids were destroyed. Agent Weasel and I sustained minor injuries mostly because of stray grenade shrapnel from our own grenades (we need a bit more training with our grenades) but we were not seriously injured. Once defeating the rabids we searched their base and found that they had an underground bunker, after quickly dispatching the remaining rabids left alive we discovered that they were planning to "breed" more rabids in the US. We fear the same fate may happen to you in the UK. I suggest that we all increase patrol and monitoring of rabid groupings. For now this is all I have to say, if these are my last words then remember them well you never know when a rabid could strike.
When going about my duties as vice-master of the RSS I often find myself being asked numerous questions about our elite society. I have decided that it may be prudent to answer a few of the most frequently asked questions in writing so that inquisitive members of the public can have something to refer back to instead of pestering me and the Master Hunter when we are embroiled in deadly battle.
RSS FAQ’s
>Did you just see Mr. Brooks running over there? Oh, well I must be off, urgent business, you know how it is.<
You see there he goes now, and I was here all the time…
Mr. Brooks
One last FAQ that Mr. Brooks
forgot:
Looking in the dictionary you'll discover it to be pronounced 'rahbid'. And I agree. 'Raybid' is wrong.
The Master Hunter
Continued from issues: 10-2, 10-4.
Full story available from: http://members.sitegadgets.com/chriswatling/story.html
Suddenly (it had to be done sooner or later) [41] a noxious substance of some sort
or another began to seep into the HQ through the air-conditioning system that
they had recently had installed on the advice of a salesman who looked
remarkably hairy and had a large tail like object protruding out behind him.
The Master didn't notice this as he was in an unusually relaxed state by this
time and becoming more so by the minute and before long [42] he was fast asleep, snoring to the tune of "She'll be
coming round the mountain", and 00'Leary was slumped over the teapot in a
deep and peaceful slumber. A small movement appeared in the bottom right hand
corner of the picture, something was in the HQ with them. All of a sudden with
a loud crack King Fuzzball himself appeared on the scene accompanied by Nutter,
Sly Backstabber and Wonky Branch and all of them wielded a large bunch of
grapes (on Sly's grapes the words "not to scale" had inexplicably
been written). The squirrels let out a loud cry and leapt forth, towards [41]
France with a terrible expression emblazoned across the face of each squirrel. There
was a noise behind them - Mr. Brooks had just come in the back door, the Magic
Carrot in tow. "Well, well, well" said Mr. Brooks "A bevy of
squirrel intruders, something will have to be done about this". Fuzzball
turned slowly and faced Mr. Brooks, saying [44] “Hey mumbo jumbo I'll suck your blood”. [45]
Mr. Brooks looked nicely confused, and Fuzzball took this opportunity to leap
at him, Fuzzball's teeth sharp and shiny (he'd been up all night polishing
them).
Mr. Brooks shouted at 00'Leary and the Master, but the noxious substance had
done its job; they were both poisoned into a deep sleep. [47] Mr. Brooks was forced to face the
might of Fuzzball's shiny teeth alone. He leapt back and Fuzzball fell to the
floor with a thud in a distinctly undignified fashion. Mr. Brooks uttered a
strange incantation and then looked rather taken aback when nothing happened,
he turned on his heel and ran from the HQ saying he was off to fetch some other
agents. He left the Magic Carrot behind him to guard the Master Hunter and 00’Leary.
He arrived outside to find himself [48]
already there - which was odd. He greeted himself in friendly way and continued
on his quest to find help. Meanwhile, in the HQ [49] 00'Leary had been revived
by Sly Backstabber so he could make the squirrels some tea. 00'Leary got the
teabags out and gave them to Sly, but refused to make tea for his sworn
enemies, choosing instead to knock himself unconscious with a badger he found
on the floor.
Outside Mr. Brooks was thinking – “now where can I get an army at short notice”
he pondered. He thought for some time and then suddenly – “To the soup
kitchens!” he cried. He headed straight for the nearest soup kitchens and
recruited seventeen of the finest homeless people he could find. They set off
back towards HQ, but as they drew nearer the background music grew louder and
more sinister – clearly something was not quite right. Mr. Brooks entered the
HQ and let out a gasp.
[50] (Someone had hit him in the stomach). Recovering, he let out another gasp.
Slayer HQ was empty.
Mr. Brooks dismissed his army, then desperately looked around for his comrades.
In the corner near the biscuit barrel he found the dazed form of the magic
carrot. He quickly revived the magic carrot, and then listened as it
diagrammatically explained what had happened.
Apparently, King Fuzzball (the Almighty), Sly Backstabber and Nutter had
realised that their only threat was the magic carrot, and so beat him to his
grated form. While this was happening, Wonky Branch was performing magic in the
background. She manically span her branch around her head, screaming in ancient
squirrellish. Smoke filled the air, there was a fizzling sound, and then
everybody was gone!
"Oh no!" said Mr. Brooks. "The rabid squirrels have captured the
Master Hunter and 00'Leary! Now who'll make the tea?"
[52] "I will," said a deep, powerful voice from the corner. It
was [53] me, Brian Perkins. [54]
"Come get some," he grunted, offering forth a mug.
"Thanks," said Mr. Brooks. "But what are we supposed to do now?
A rescue attempt with just two of us?"
"Do not underestimate the power of the magic carrot," said Brian.
Grabbing a pike each (the weapon, not the fish), they stepped outside and
clambered into their [55]
spacesuits. They then clambered out again and then back in. They repeated this
bizarre ritual seven times and all the onlookers were thoroughly confused -
this was however their intention, as they had meant to confuse everyone except
magic vegetables. Over the horizon came thousands of magic fruit and veg.,
rushing to their aid. However they saw the Magic Carrot and turned round and
rushed off again - yes, he was the king they had ousted some 43 years
previously. Mr. Brooks and Brian Perkins needed a new plan. They thought for a
moment and then hit upon an idea. "I have an idea Brian Perkins,"
said Mr. Brooks. He then proceeded to explain in detail his plan. When he at
last finished it was nighttime. The two decided that it would be most prudent
to [56] hide in a trench until
morning and then make a massed attack on the squirrel base, all they had to do
was find it. Unfortunately in the morning Mr. Brooks awoke to find that Brian
Perkins had been eaten during the night, and that he himself had lost his left
foot. He spent some time searching for the lost foot and eventually found it
under a rock. He re-attached his foot using gaffer tape and hobbled off to
rescue his comrades. He had gone but five paces when [57] he discovered that he had mistakenly attached Brian Perkins
to his leg and not his foot, after all. He looked down at himself. Mutator
Merys would be proud.
Still, now he had three legs and could run 1.5 times as fast as previously. In
no time at all he had reached [58] light
speed. With a bit of effort, he accelerated past light speed. Time warped, then
Mr. Brooks lost Mr. Perkins into ancient Greece. (Imagine...right out of the
sky too!) Mr. Brooks was abruptly dropped back into this century. He looked
around and realized this must have been right before [59] Wonky Branch
preformed the magic trick that made everybody disappear. So Mr. Brooks jumped
in and beat Wonky Branch with his pike (so he wouldn't waste ammo). [60]
Then the rabid squirrel named Franklin the Omnipresent attacked Wonky Branch's
jugular. The lethal attack killed Wonky Branch instantaneously, thus making
Franklin lord of the squirrels. [61] Suddenly a 100-ton weight fell on
Franklin. [63]
(There was a short commercial break). [64]
After which, and after the smoke cleared (it had been an explosive 100 ton
weight), it became increasingly clear that Franklin was dead and in no
condition to be lord of anything - with the possible exception of the squirrel
underworld. Mr. Brooks took the lapse in violent action to grab his comrades
roughly by the collar and shout "WELL ARE YOU GOING TO TALK!!?!!?" at
them until 00'Leary pointed out that he hadn't asked them anything and it would
be far more sensible to run away. So the Master Hunter, the Mr. Brooks-Brian
Perkins hybrid and 00'Leary took the unprecedented and very undignified option
and ran for the hills. They reached the hills some days later and paused for
breath and tea. They set off for Southampton and Gandalf the Wizard, hoping to
get some useful assistance from him, but [65]
they never reached Southampton as Brian Perkins had to go back to his day job
on radio 4 and in the ensuing surgery everyone completely forgot where it was
they were supposed to be going, so they went home instead, back to HQ. When
they got there they found a hastily scribbled note from Agent Ellz and the
Magic Carrot; the Squirrels who had been lying in wait had captured them on
their return to HQ. They were apparently being held in King Fuzzball's custody.
The RSS leaders decided to ignore it as they could smell a trap - it didn't
smell so much like a trap as a small hastily scribbled note, traps generally
smell faintly of blood and some even have bits hanging off them - but they were
all knackered so decided to have a cup of tea and a rest before embarking on
anymore fearless adventures. They had just settled down to watch a nice,
relaxing episode of ‘Neighbours’ when the door burst open and framed against
the stormy night was [66] the
Milkman - several hours late. The Milkman shouted something incomprehensible in
a strange language (or possibly a heavy Mancunian accent - you never can tell)
and then died. "That was odd," said the Master Hunter,
"yeah" replied Mr. Brooks, "slurp" added 00'Leary, sipping
his tea and they turned back to 'Neighbours' and thought nothing of the
Milkman's strange caperings until the following morning, when 00'Leary let out
a strange and strangled cry upon finding both the fridge and the doorstep
devoid of milk. He set off for the shops, his mission clear in his mind. [67] Little did he know that he
had watched his last ever episode of Neighbours (thank god). [68]
The story continues: http://members.sitegadgets.com/chriswatling/story.html
If you read any further, it is recommended that you do so with your eyes closed.
News just in: A squirrel has been sighted at the ATSMP. I was just having a look, you know, as you do, and my gaze fell upon its rabid countenance, naturally I immediately rushed over to the ATSMP to scourge the terrible visage of a squirrel from our sight, but when I got there it had gone. I am sorry, I have failed you.
Special Agent Myself (undercover - as a twitcher) (in disguise - as a melon)
Mews just im! Agent 00'Leary has just lost the ability to promoumce the letter m! Upom rummimg (drimkimg rum), he spomtaneously tramsfigured imto Agemt 00'Wild.
The mearest rabid squirrel was very mear.
The mearest rabid squirrel was very maughty.
The mearest rabid squirrel was stealimg peas.
The mearest rabid squirrel saw Agemt 00'Wild approach.
The mearest rabid squirrel did mot rum.
The mearest rabid squirrel Vodkad imstead.
The mearest rabid squirrel's two fromt teeth shot out.
The mearest rabid squirrel's two fromt teeth hit 00'Wild im the promoumcimg m's bit of the braim.
"Mimt!" said 00'Wild.
Next issue: 13-May-2001
TEA: MILK, NO SUGAR.
(c) Rabid Publications