Real Heroes of Freedom
Kermit sniffed at the dank air of the primitive sewer system and almost immediatly felt vomit at the back of his throat. Stifling back the vile tide, he reached down to his combat vest and thumbed the talk button on his navy SEAL-issue sub vocal microphone.
"This place is making me turn green."
"You're already green, you stupid git," rumbled Ron through his own radio
"Hey, It's not easy being green," whined Dermit, as much as one can whine through a sub vocal radio.
"Even though though you're green Kermit, you're still beautif-"
"James Blunt, if I 'ave to 'ear zat horreebull sooong one more time, I will kick you in your rrrotton mash-eating protestant teeth and castrate you before you can say tea time," interupted Luminaire in his comical french accent.
"But it's true," Mouthed Blunt; his thoughts drifting back to the night he and Kermit had consumated their forbidden love.
Spock, in his understated logical way, motioned for them to keep quiet and move on.
They then arrived at the manhole that would take them into the heart of the secret fortress of the devious organization known only as the Alliance Against Freedom. No freedom loving man or woman would ever forget the day Phill Collins, Voldemort, Sean Hannity, and the animated remains of Saddam Hussein simultaneously detonated an m-80 in every single toilet in the greater Cleveland area. The city once called the Jewel of the Midwest now lay a ruin of sewage of and flame. It was because of this, that this elite team had been assembled.
They emerged from the sewer and checked their weapons. Ron pulled out his wand and gave it a diagnostic swish and flick. Kermit pulled the slide on his TMP, chambering a round and thumbed the safety off. James Blunt loaded a fresh magazine into his enfeild and adjusted his stylish beret. Luminaire checked the propellant tanks on his back and shouldered his FAMAS. Spock set his phaser to atomize and calmly lit a black and mild.
They split up then, James Blunt and Ron Weasly taking one corridor. Luminaire, Kermit, and spock taking the other.
(an hour later...)
It felt to Kermit like they had been crawling through these air shafts forever and in these confined spaces Luminaires' flames were getting a bit too close for comfort. In front of him Spock inhaled sharply and and pointed at the nearby grate.
Visible through the vent were James Blunt and Ron were being held at gunpoint by Phil Collins.
"Maybe I could just turn and walk away...but I don't think I will," Said Phill Collins.
"You're a has-been, Collins," Yelled Blunt. He's so Brave, thought Kermit.
"Oh and what are you? I think I should do the world a favor," said Collins before planting a bullet in James Blunt's throat.
Before his eyes could close for the final time james mouthed, "I love you Kermit."
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO," Screamed Kermit leaping through the Grate, guns blazing.
Phil Collins jerked his head towards kermit and began firing and shouted, "I can feel it calling in the air tonight... It's your time to die! Get the frog!"
"EXCUS E MOI! WHO ARE YOU CALLING A FROG!?!??!!?" yelled Luminaire, following Kermit out of the grate. He opened up on Collin's nameless minions with his FAMAS yelling, "TASTE FRENCH STEEL!"
Spock sighed and dropped his black and mild. If this had been a movie, there would have been a slow-motion shot of the cigarello falling and Spock extinguishing it with his federation issue boots. "Earthlings," he muttered, "So illogical." when Saddam's shambling horde and the death eaters arrived, Spock knew this was place for a phaser and he drew his engraved match set of General Electric gatling guns.
"It's party-time ," he said quietly.
to be continued....
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2 comments:
I thought Eric's post was extremely creative. His story provided me with the inspiration to write this.
“Two years without a breadcrumb”, forensic detective Bruce Wayne bemoaned, “and now dozens of dead, twisted fanatics pave the trail to Penguin.” These monkeys think they done gone to heaven, joked Dolly Parton, but they headed to hell in a hand-basket with some chicken wangs!” Wayne conceded his partner’s statement with his silence. A polygamist sect under the control of the prophet known as Penguin, was secretly based in the backwoods of Agrestic California. The stench of rotting corpses and baked goods coelsced in the hot July air. My olfactory nerves whispered plausible tales of deceit to my mind. Tomatoes, grapes, and avocados are in abundance all around. These are the product of a self-sufficient people. These are the natural wonders that caused the unnatural death of dozens. Lighting an imported Cuban cigar, Dolly Parton notes, “These freaks place a whole lotta trust in mother nature growin their dinner from the ground”. Wayne retorts, “Mother nature had no hand in the evil conspired by the Penguin, he killed his own people with the fruits of their labor. Do you hear that Dolly? It is the sound of silence. It is the only sound the Penguin wishes to hear. He would poison every tomato, grape, and avocado in the world to keep his breed of underage Aryan bear cubs under the blanket of mother bear’s lies.” Simon and Garfunkel emerge from behind a century-old oak tree holding handfuls of soil. Both detectives acknowledge the guidance provided with disillusionment. What if the Penguin is not the culprit in this tragedy of zealots? Before they could ponder that thought for a moment, a golden Cadillac blaring the haunting voice of Selena pulled up. A Mexican man with the Virgin Mary weeping tears of blood emblazoned on his chest steps out. “You piggies finally gon’ do somethin bout this devil mile?”, the chulo said irately. “What in the sam-hell you talkin about boy?”, Dolly demanded. “My father and uncle died here two years ago, nobody cared nothin bout them, til’ these white folks ate the same government poison they did. The army don’t tell you bout’ no tests they run, no chemicals they drop.” Detective Wayne’s heart dropped to his stomach with this revelation. Under the government’s radar, he maintained his secrecy. Perhaps, the silence was quieter than he anticipated. One thing's for sure, it's penguin season.
two great examples of participatory culture
who posted the second one?
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