The evil C-8 rolled around the tardis constructing a large trap out of bits of machinery and a small amount of explosive from the ships armory(stocked by the Trio, of course)
The sinister robot had booby trapped the ships supply of Crisco. How absolutely fiendish! To complete the set-up, C-8 rolled back into Tito’s room to empty his portable supply canister, but just then Tito woke up. After yawning and scratching himself a couple of times he made an ”elbow-room” gesture with his arms as he commented to C-8,”sure is roomier in the Tardis, eh C-8? Hey what are you looking for? Get lost.”
“Yes master,” replied C-8.
Tito began wandering around the tardis in a confused state groping with the possibility of the irreversible loss of his compatriots(he also groped himself as he groped with the idea).
Trauma was getting bored with floating in the ether. Nothing was happening. Just then he remembered he had bought his zippo lighter from a greasy street vendor in a dark alley in Hull, Quebec who assured him after Trauma’s insistence, that it would work in the ethereal (Trauma was obviously a wise consumer). He now pulled it out and turned it over in his hand and flashed an evil ether grin <EEG!> and flicked it.
Surprisingly (for the reader anyway, Trauma never had any doubts) a real flame sprang forth from the zippo. What did surprise him was that the ether was ignited and started to burn fiercely . Just then he heard sirens and saw an ethereal craft approach him. It used a real water cannon (probably bought from the same greasy street vendor) and doused the flames before Trauma was consumed. “Oh shit!” exclaimed Trauma, “it’s the Ether police.”
Due to Trauma’s inability to move he was quickly arrested and brought back in ether-irons to the ether police station/jail/recreation centre.
After he was brought in front of a judge he was unchained and the judge read out the charges, “You, Trauma, stand accused of the charges of loitering in a no loitering ether-zone, arson of ether, ether-walking, disturbing the ether, entering the ether without a valid passport, ether-passing, violation of the ether cluster law in accordance with the Brauskeller Convention and two counts of hooliganism.”
In the face of these charges all Trauma could say was,”…call me Zmiaaaaaaaaaa.”
Naturally, he was found guilty and sentenced to row in the ether slave galleys for 61 years.
As he was led away he passed by a recreational time-space anomaly chamber and surprising his guards he broke loose and jumped inside and was whisked away <Whoosh> before his captors could catch him.
Trauma could sense he was floating in a sea of brilliant colours. He felt many sensations which overloaded his brain’s capacity to register them all. It was like being rolled by 15 Arab punks at the side of a road somewhere. Unfortunately, this time it was more than he could handle and soon he passed out.
While in one of his many deep trances, Dragon saw once again that his friends were in trouble. Now a master of the Yogi, Dragon(now calling himself THE Dragon) reached out in his astral form and gently hauled in the unconscious from from the netherworld of pleasure from which he had slipped into.
THE Dragon: Rest easy brave comrade. There are a great many things which must be done in order to save our imperilled friends.
THE Dragon willed his mind once more into the true Astral world and searched through the mystic void until he found the Tardis. Seeing that his friend(term used not so loosely now) was in quite a predicament he sent him a mental message which could transcend many mortal boundaries.
THE Dragon: “Vindicator…..you must go to the power source of the Tardis and touch it”
Insubstantial Vindicator: “What? Dragon?! Get out of my head you putz!”
THE Dragon: “I am now called THE Dragon and you must do as I say or all else is lost”
Near-non-existent Vindicator: “If you can at ALL comprehend what kind of state I am in, you will see that I can’t touch a damn thing!”
THE Dragon: “You must trust me Vindicator. The Tardis’ power source is the only thing that can save you. I have rescued Trauma from the Ether-world where the Evil C-8 trapped him. He MUST be stopped Vindicator! You must get to the Tardis’ power source!”
Obviously-screwed Vindicator: “Fine! Heeyyyy…wait a minute! If I do that….I won’t be able to spy on the women!”
But THE Dragon’s voice was gone. Vindicator decided he might as well head on down to find this power source, but he had no idea where the engine room of this thing was….
[writer: New and improved and much wiser than a mortal man it's...THE Dragon!!!]
The Vindicator began to walk down some stairs to one of the lower levels of the TARDIS… Unfortunately, when he was phased, he was wearing his abnormally long scarf…. Yes. You are right… He tripped, sailed 30 ft. through absolutely nothing and disappeared through the TARDIS wall… Well, this was just great. Not only was he insubstantial, but now he was floating in deep space. If not for YATI’s he’d suffocate and die, but this dilemma was conveniently overlooked… So… How to get back inside the TARDIS. He had no means of propulsion… He tried to pass wind, but it was just as insubstantial as the rest of him… He tried to lasso the TARDIS with his scarf, but if just passed through the walls…
He was just about to give up hope and die, when a Romulan (who had been phased several months earlier) bumped into him and knocked him back into the TARDIS. The Vindicator flashed a winning smile at no-one in particular and continued his trek to the engine room.
[writer: The Vindicator - Entirely Non-Canon.]
Simultaneously all four adventurers had the same thought. Whats with all this Star Trek stuff? With an equally simultaneous shrug they forgot about it..
In the engine room, the Vindicator spotted C-8. Ducking back so he wouldn’t be seen, he remembered that he actually couldn’t be seen. With that he strode bravely into the room…. and tripped on his scarf. Thank Koresh for YATI’s!
C-8 had finished talking to himself (out loud) about his grand plans. Unfortunately the Vindicator had entered the room too late. Rolling out of the room C-8 vanished into the Tardis. After a few moments and two more stumbles later he touched the mechanism as THE Dragon had indicated. Again his hair was overwhelmed by a major case of curiosity, this time wanting to see what he was up to. Bolts of energy shot through his ethereal body. Falling to the ground unconscious, the Vindicator returned to his corporeal form. However he was not going to do much more at the moment due to his unconsciousness…
THE Dragon had expended much of his power contacting the Vindicator that his hold on Trauma had faltered and then completely slipped away. Spinning off into the Time-Space Vortex… Trauma hurtled to a time and place as yet unknown….
[writer: TRAUMA - Ok... leave me out of it until my next post... I have plans for myself...]
THE Dragon: Ooops.
As The Vindicator lay unconscious in the engine room, Trauma plummeted further and further into a space-time vortex and THE Dragon tried to regain his hold on Trauma, Tito began to smear peanut butter on his legs (cuz wax is too painful)… He went in search of a banana (peanut butter and banana’s! Try it!).
Taking a minute to ponder the situation, he decided that the most likely place to find a banana would be the kitchen. Taking a minute to ponder the situation, he decided that the most likely place to find a kitchen would be on one of the lower levels. Taking a minute to ponder the situation, he decided against the banana.
Tito shot bolt-upright in his bed.
Tito: “Whew! What a weird dream! I’d never put peanut butter on my legs! I’m too macho for that tomfoolery!”
Tito wiped the beads of sweat from his brow and went off in search of The Vindicator…
[writer: The Vindicator - Lunkhead extraordinaire!]
Tito soon discovered Vindicator lying unconscious on the floor of the engine room. Tito quickly pulled out his smelling salts and used them to try to revive Vindicator. Actually, they weren’t really smelling salts. It was actually an old sardine can filled with chunks of dried crisco that had been soaked in a bucket of scope mouthwash (you never know when it might come in handy). Not surprisingly Vindicators eyes flickered open and immediately he rolled over and puked out his guts on the floor (“you have a lovely pancreas”, observed Tito). When his organs were replaced Vindicator jumped to his feet and began to say to Tito,”…golly am I glad to see you. I have the strangest story to tell you about where I’ve been the last couple of days.”
Tito: Yeah, yeah, tell me later, but now you must come to the control room there is something we must do.” and with that he disappeared down the corridor. Vindicator followed.
Tito: Show me how to turn it on.
He said while pointing at the control panel. Vindicator leaned over and pulled a large red lever that was labelled in big neon letter”Power:On”. The panel sprang to life. Tito began adjusting controls on the panel like a man possessed.
“What are you doing?” asked Vindicator, full of apprehension.
“Trust me,” replied Tito,” this just has to be done. Load up the Mack-10s.”
In minutes, Tito, without really knowing what he was doing, had sent the Tardis hurtling through the ether to some unknown destination.
“Shouldn’t we pick up THE Dragon?” naively asked Vindicator.
“No, I don’t trust him now with this yoga business and that C-9 seems completely in his power. At least I have a loyal C-8, eh little buddy?” replied Tito.
“Oh sure, anything you say. You’re so great <HACK> <SPEW>”confirmed C-8 with false sincerity that was unnoticed by the frantic and machismo-oozing Tito.
Suddenly the door opened and Tito said, “This is it! Kill everything that moves and everything else too!” he said brandishing twin Mack-10s. Vindicator followed.
They were in some kind of a house. In the living room there was a large very hairy man talking to a skinny blonde swede. The sounds of machine gun fire shattered the coziness of the scene and both were cut down very easily and messily.
As the Swede lay on the ground in a pool of his own blood while coughing up more of his own,”Huey…<KOFF> <KOFF> <GAG>…I think this is the end…”
Huey replied,”Hunnhhh….. I’ve always loved you, Sven.”
Just then the rocket launcher poised on Tito’s shoulder (he called it Polly, “Polly want a LAW rocket?” )fired and blew up the entire living room with a resounding KABLOOIE!!!.
“You were right,” said Vindicator, cradling his smoking shotgun barrel,” you did have to do this.”
Without another word, thy returned to the Tardis and dematerialized.
[writer: -Tito: uh, sorry...]
The wailing siren caught THE Dragon’s attention. Knowing what the sound was, he quickly ran to the source. C-9 followed. And Yogi was swatting a large snake with a wiffle bat.
The Blue Police Box was a welcomed sight. After what seemed like 5 years to Dragon was indeed 5 years. To Vindicator and Tito it only a few weeks.
Dragon: “For awhile there, I had my doubts. But you came back for me.”
Tito: “Actually… we are just as surprised as you. I was heading for Earth and the Kit Kat Club for some Mambo.”
Dragon: “So whats been happening?”
The wiffle bat was quite ineffective against the snake.
Vindicator: “Well there’s a duplicate of C-9 running around somewhere inside the TARDIS and he’s trying to kill us.”
Choking violently, Yogi mustered all his Yoga powers of meditation.
Dragon: “Gadzooks! Its one of C-9′s prototypes.”
Tito: “You mean there’s more?”
Unfortunately… the snake was in a state of denial, and disbelieved Yoga’s power.
Dragon: “We must find him and stop him. By the way… Where’s Trauma?”
The wiffle bat floated on the muck for a few months, until a tiny bipedal mammal found it and stored it away inside its underground lair.
[writer: TRAUMA - Continued.... on next post.]
The streets were filled with horses and cowboys. Women wore bonnets and children hassled store owners. Saloons and Brothels lined the streets of Windy Gulch.
In the corner of a dingy saloon sat Trauma, the Oklahoma Skid. A Dusty black hat and poncho were his trade mark. Two colt .45 hung at his sides in well oiled holsters.
He propped his feet on the table and downed another shot of whiskey. Suddenly the swinging doors wooshed open and there stood three of the nastiest hombres this side of Dodge City. They entered.
Cowboy 1: “Milk. Cold.”
Trauma: “Did I just hear you order milk, boy?”
Cowboy 1: “Yeah. Whats of it?”
Trauma: “Oh nothing… I was just making sure.”
For a few seconds all was pretty tense. Then it escalated from there…
Trauma: “I always figured milk was for pussies and Faggots!”
Well that was it. The three cowboys turned and stood ready to defend their right at an alternative life style.
Cowboy 2: “We don’t take kindly to those remarks boy.”
Cowboy 3: “I think maybe you apologize. Real nice like.”
With lightning speed. He drew his colts and cut them down here they stood. Getting up and walking out he passed one still alive. Trauma saw the fear and surprise in the man’s eyes.
Cowboy 1: “Wh- Who are you?”
Trauma : “They call me Oklahoma Skid.” And then he shot him.
Bartender: “Why did ya do it Oklahoma?”
Trauma: “Why else? I’m an asshole.”
His spurs jingled as he hummed a tune down the street.
Trauma: “hum humm humm-humm A-S-S-H-O-L-E…. A-S-S-H-O-L-E….”
[writer: TRAUMA - Groovy... I reckon.]
THE Dragon, realizing that it was himself that lost Trauma, he probed the multiverse of possibilities to find some sort of trail of their misplaced companion.
THE Dragon: I’ve found him! Let’s go!
Back to the Tardis they fled, leaving a rather baffled Yoga Master and a snake in perfect denial(the first sign of pregnancy). THE Dragon punched in a few coordinates into the Tardis’ control panel and asked how to get it to go.
Vindicator smacked his head and pulled the level with the bright glowing neon sigh that said “Power: ON”. With a while and a whine(soon to be served with cheese) they disappeared into the nether mists of time and space.
They reappeared inside a Hospital.
Vindicator: You idiot! We’re in a Trauma UNIT!
THE Dragon: Ooops. Hmmm….this universal conscious must be on the blink….
Nearby Doctor: Hey! What are you doing in here with that….phone booth!
Tito: I’ll handle this one.
Tito leveled his rocket launcher and wasted him(plus half the Trauma unit)
Vindicator: Why’d ya do that?
Tito: Witnesses. Never leave witnesses.
Vindicator: Oh. Let’s go back.
Back into the Tardis they went, with some more funky noise they disappeared. Randomly they reappeared……
As Trauma trotted along the street on his horse, named Horse. He continued humming the tune. From under his dusty poncho he pulled out from a mini shoulder holster a SPIDER-MAN PEZ DISPENSER! And popped a few pez.
Yes… the mighty PEZ DISPENSER! The only sole object truly in Trauma’s possession that he can call his very own. Everyone kept trying to steal this from him! But he won’t have it! Huddling the SPIDER-MAN PEZ DISPENSER close to his chest he peered around looking for suspicious folk obviously jealous of his possession.
He hated them all! The little bastards… with their bushy tails! Popping another pez he tucked it away again and rode on. Humming much softer now, and keeping one hand ready on his Colt .45.
[writer: TRAUMA - ITS MINE DAMN IT!]
The Tardis materialized some 30 feet above the surface of the planet (Thanks to THE Dragon’s total lack of any co-ordinate plotting skill). The Vindicator just rolled his eyes as they plummeted to the surface… Conveniently, the Tardis is indestructible… The horse it landed on, however, was not.
Trauma was surprised at nearly being squashed by the Tardis. His horse didn’t have time to be surprised. It’s mind (now oozing out from below the Tardis) could no longer deal with surprise (or much else).
Trauma dismounted what was left of his horse and entered the Tardis. Upon entering, the first thing he did was to slap THE Dragon on the head.
THE Dragon: “Why’d you slap me???”
Trauma: “Who else would have materialized 30 feet in the air???”
THE Dragon just pouted…
Tito briefly acknowledged Trauma’s presence and then returned to polishing his newly-acquired Surface-To-Air missile.
[writer: The Vindicator - Planes, Trains and Automatic Weapons...]
Amidst his pouting, THE Dragon came upon a brilliant idea to save the Universe and was about to voice his Omnipotent idea when C-9 came in.
Shaken from his revelry, and losing the idea in doing so, THE Dragon addressed his faithless companion.
THE Dragon: I know. Time for your oil bath…
C-9: NO! Come with me!
THE Dragon, following his follower went into the back of the Tardis. C-9 took him to a small room and showed him a plaque that was upon the wall.
THE Dragon: What does it mean?
C-9: It means Her Majesty’s Groovy Ship Tardis!
THE Dragon: So? What’s so important that I don’t already know?
C-9: Don’t you get it? The group of you are the…(ominous music) THE GROOVY TEAM!
Vindicator, retaining and hiding that special ability to phase through walls overheard this and went to smack his forehead but his hand passed through it, he sighed.
C-9 brought out some small metal stars with H.M.G.S Tardis on them. He put one on THE Dragon’s chest….ok…so it had to be glued to his tunic, but it was at least now visible.
THE Dragon: We MUST tell the others!
Off they went back to the control room. Tito was crooning quietly to his newest toy missile, Trauma was popping another Pez, careful not to let anyone see, Vindicator walked through a door(and strangely enough no one noticed).
THE Dragon: OK all of you! We have been given a mission! This come from the highest of authorities!
Tito: Authority? What? Who’s?
THE Dragon: Ummm….would you believe I don’t know?
THE Dragon: Any ways..I have the badges for us to wear so that all may see and recognize who we are!
Vindicator: Badges? We don’t need no steenking badges!
Tito: There go the copyrights again!
Trauma: Heyyyy….neat badges! Makes me look like some sort of law enforcer! What’s this writing?
THE Dragon: H.M.G.S Tardis!
Vindicator: We can see that putz!
Slaps THE Dragon on the head.
THE Dragon: Oh! Her Majesty’s Groovy Ship Tardis!
Trauma: Groovy? Cool!
Vindicator: No no no, Groovy! Not cool!
So off were our newest brand of “law”(note quotes) enforcers!(note exclamation mark). But what was in store for them next? Aliens? Monsters? THE Dragon’s incompetence(sp?)? Find out in our next post!