Tito ran around the bar several times before he finally snatched Dragon’s chicken as a living shield. This normally wouldn’t have detered Trauma in the slightest if Dragon hadn’t been forced into the Melee by Penelope’s danger. With the help of Vindicator, who sensed the imminent breakdown of party unity, Trauma was temporarily restrained.
Tito: Trauma, chill! I got a lot of mad money out of that sap.
Trauma: You better either have enough to replace that bottle, or your intestinal track.
Tito: I have enough to keep you pissed all week.
Vindicator: There is more ale in this time period than drinking water.
This interesting fact seemed to improve Trauma’s mood, and together the companions had a lovely evening of Drink and debauchery.
Later that evening, Dragon felt his Yoga Powers trying to tell him something, a low irritating buzz in his head that sounded like an oven timer. At first he thought it was just a hangover but then it became more distinct. He began to feel like someone had been using his eyeballs to place their golf tee’s and
play through. He got up and hurried to Vindicator’s room.
He rushed through the door and Vindicator Sat up suddenly, sending the naked young woman that was on top of him crashing to the floor.
Vindicator: Didn’t you know Koresh punishes little boys who go where their not wanted.
Dragon: I feel a Yogic Distortion Field of massive intensity forming around this Bar. It’s really trippy, I think something really shitty is about to happen.
Vindicator: That’s not much to go on, Dragon.
Dragon: I think it’s enough reason to get going though.
Vindicator: I guess we will have to inturupt Trauma, Tito and their five friends…
Dragon: After you.
Dragon and Vindicator were headed down the hall past a window when Dragon noticed that he was squinting for a reason other than his newfound migrane. He looked out the window and felt the sunlight streaming past him.
Dragon: Vind, Didn’t the sun go down three hours ago?
Vindicator: We’ve been temporally translocated.
Dragon: I’m not the one who is going to tell Trauma.
Penelope: Buk B’ka
Vindicator: You said it!
Sorry guys, but I’m not ready to wait Two weeks. Call it beginers enthusiasim. Besides you can see another peice of my work while you resolve your busy schedules.
[writer - That Damned Continuing Pimpernel ]
Yes indeed, some major weird shit was going on around the small village – more than usual when Baldric was in town. As Vindicator and Dragon made their way down the hall of the tavern/inn to find the rest of the Trio, something unusual was going on outside the tavern.
Behind the tavern stood an outhouse with about five people waiting in line impatiently to avail themselves of the facilities. At long last, Tito swaggered arrogantly out with a newspaper tucked under his arm. He grinned at the first man in line, an elderly gent, and said to him,” she’s all yours, admiral.” He walked back towards the inn, intent of resuming his wenching.
[writer – Tito -damn, out of time, will continue in next post... ]
Before he went in, he was momentarily distracted by a spectacle on the street. A man dressed in tattered rags had a pair of stained y-front gachis on his head, an unbent coathanger in his hand with a dead pigeon taped to the end of it. He ran up the street clumsily periodically hopping on one or both feet and shrieking at the top of his lungs,” I’m a wizard! I’m a wizard! I’m a wizard!” This man was none other than the hated Goliath (cameo bill is in the mail). Tito didn’t recognize Goliath underneath all that grime but one day the story of how Goliath saved humanity by inadvertently destroying the DeathStar of the previous story will eventually be told. Tito mumbled something about bringing back caning and stepped towards the door of the bar. Suddenly, the sky brightened and Tito spun around on the heel of his slick Italian dress shoes, looked up at the sky and gasped,”whut the…”
Meanwhile, inside the bar, Trauma was building up his resistence to time-space anomalies, in other words, drinking heavily with a crowd of local bumpkin onlookers interspersed with some fine wenches. Some of the uglier ones were hanging on his sides trying to get him to take them back to his room. In all, it was a typical night at a bar for Trauma. Baldric was rushing around the bar getting the last few drops out of empty drinks and pouring them into a flask, (all the time thinking how he could sell it and give all the money to his dear friends:Tito, Trauma, et. al.) The barkeeper finally spotted him and exclaimed,” Hey! Freako! I said to stay out of here! Nick, I think this weirdo needs some help leaving.”
Some large skinhead picked up Baldric and kicked him down the two steps leading out the door of the inn. The barkeeper walked over to Trauma’s table and said,” hey, it’s about time you paid your bar tab, stranger.”
Trauma looked up and just grinned at him with his glazed eyes indicating his degree of intoxication. That one look was enough to speak volumes to those who were acquainted with this particular form of body language.
“So we got a deadbeat on our hands, eh, NICK!” the barkeeper shouted. Trauma stood up as Nick approached being equal to him in height. A few moments passed but Nick strangely felt his urge to pummel Trauma melt away as if by magic. There was something about this stranger, he thought, that gained a respect for him from Nick. Trauma felt the same way just more groggily. Nick realized he could see it in Trauma’s eyes. It was a simple statement: I am an asshole. Both Trauma and Nick slowly backed off from each other. Nick said in a low voice,”…not here, this bar is unworthy, but eventually…” Trauma staggered severely out the door barely aware of his surroundings ,”what did that punk say?” he thought, “something like, `not me, the toilet’s not working…’ oh well”.
Outside his eyes passed from the sight of Baldric lying unconscious in a puddle of sewage, past Tito who was nearby looking up, past Goliath disappearing down the street, up to the sky where he took several moments to focus on. At the same time, Dragon, Penelope and Vindicator emerged from the
tavern and the assembled Trio stood almost dumbfounded at what they saw.
Dragon: sweet Koresh! It’s worse than I thought!
Trauma: (with hand in pocket) I thought I didn’t bring my magic acorns, no wait, (sheepishly) I didn’t.
Baldric: Unhhh… uh, guys, I think my spine is broken… guys?
Penelope: (excitedly) buk buk bka!?
Vindicator: I was going to say what it is, but after the chicken, forget it!
Tito: you guys see it too, eh? Good, I thought I drank the knockout drops I poured in that wench’s drink inside the bar. Phew! What a relief!
[writer -Tito (okay, Pimpernel, so what IS it?) ]
As the hours whittled away, the Trio found themselves getting bored. In the mean time, Trauma’s liver had absorbed much of the alcohol and he was starting to focus without much strain.
Tito: ” Well, I’ve had as much excitement as I can handle… so I’m going back inside.”
Peering at them from the cracks in the outhouse wall, and unbeknownst to them was Goliath. He had secured his pigeon-coathanger wand into his rope belt and was giggling quietly to himself. He was sweating with nervousnous.
Goliath: “So you think your so tough eh? You don’t look like much. I bet I could-” Goliath quickly moved his eye away from the space in the wood. “They are looking this way.!”
Suffice it to say, Goliath was mad. He had become a raving lunatic. But that is another story. And one day it shall be told.
NOTE: Goliath’s story WILL be posted one day in the short story base. For background information: Goliath was last seen in Oz during the attack of the winged monkeys. He disappeared following a black robed man pushing a shoady stone alter on mix-matched wheels.
The Trio re-enterd the bar. Not surprisingly the scene was slightly altered. It was packed with people. Strange as it appeared, it did not deter them from mingling.
Trauma was short on money and he was very thirsty, but he had no money. Then it came to him! He walked up to two simpletons sitting at a table.
Trauma: “Excuse me gentlemen. But I would like to make you a proposition.”
Clem: “Beat it.”
Bubba: “Yeah… Didn’t you see the sign?”
The third man was passed out on the table top. But he was buying the drinks. Trauma was about to leave, seeing as they weren’t interested. As he turned his back, they opened their mouths.
Clem: “Hey! I didn’t say you could leave.”
Bubba :Hey Freako! Didn’y you hear my brother? Har har.”
Tito was on the other side of the bar in a dark booth. After half an hour and an entire vial of knock out drops, Tito’s night of wenching was a success. Five buxom babes were propped up across the table from him and he was trying to decide which one he would defile first using the eenie-meenie-mynie-moe method. Suddenly there was a distinct sound. Not just anyone could hear it. Only a special kind of person could make out this sound. Tito’s ears perked up and he took a sniff. Yup. There was also a scent that accompanied the sound. There was gonna be a scrap. At the same moment, Nick the scar-faced skinhead came out of the back room, sniffing the air.
Vindicator was not in the bar. He was in a room upstairs. He was naked, groggy and strapped down with hemp rope. His own underwear was balled up into his mouth. As he came too, he remembered what happened. A mighty ugly looking barmaid approached him, making lude advances, which Vindicator brushed away. He watched her go over to Tito and strike up a conversation. They exchanged something and she returned in moments. Smiling she gave him his flaggon of ale. Vindicator looked about the darkened room. On the nightstand he saw a vial of Tito’s knockout drops! The door opened and the ugly wench stood siloheutted in the light.
Bar maid: “I know what you are thinking. But you cannot answer me because of your gag. My name is………. Lola!”
He had not known panic until this moment. And he was sure he would be introduced to many more horrors in the next few hours.
Through the window, Goliath watched in a feverish sweat.
Goliath: “I see you sitting there. Thinking you’re so bad. You’re not so- uh, ooo ooo… they’re looking this way.”
Penelope tilted her head and stared at a spot on Dragon’s lapel. Dragon was sitting across from a tall skinny man with a lazy eye. This was quite a new experience for Dragon, for he had never before seen the lazy eye phenomenon. The man would stare at Dragon with one eye while the other one twirled in its socket. For hours they sat staring at each other. Penelope took a quick peck at the spot. Dragon’s eyes widened at what happened next. The tall skinny man’s good eye slowly slipped out of its socket and fell onto the table, and rolled towards Dragon. Penelope watched the glass eye roll. There was no
change in the man. His lazy eye must also be blind.
Dragon eagerly made faces at the disabled gent, growing bolder and bolder. He also snatched the glass eye and pocketed it. Penelope was slightly miffed at that, but soon forgot what it was she was miffed at and began staring at nothing in particular.
[writer - TRAUMA - Groovy. ]
Trauma looked at the inbread louts and toght of millions of witty curses and rips he could heap on them. He prepared to go to work on them but something in their vacant stares made trauma think his repartee would fall on deaf ears. Trauma reconsidered and settled for a shot to the face instead. It was brief, provoking and very satisfying.
The other brother(Clem) took offense to this and attempted to clock Trauma on the back of the head when he was smashed in the temple by a well thrown glass eye, courtesy of Dragon.
The Brothers apparently had a larger family than was first assumed, however. Six more inbread louts stood crying for Trauma’s blood. It was a mess indeed. Dragon, who was attempting to block the blows raining down on his skull with his Yoga powers was being beaten the worst. Trauma took out
the two after him with a quick sucsession of shots from his spiderman Pez dispenser. After that he decided to take a moment and drink one of the brother’s disgarded ales.
Tito was having an easy time with his brother who was too stupid to realize he was strong enough to tear the chair out of Tito’s hands. He instead continued to allow Tito to use the chair as a shield against the worst of his blows. It was Trauma’s Ale glass on the back of his neck that ended the fight.
Trauma: Do you think we should Help Dragon?
Penelope: Buk Buk!
Tito: Not if I start having to speak after the chicken!
Tito: You know Dragon is too busy getting mauled to stop me from frying your little but!
Dragon meanwhile had successfully used the Yoga mind trick to make the brothers think he was too pathetic to beat on. All he had to do is lie immoble and bleeding on the floor. The brothers took off out of the bar in a hurry.
Trauma: Should we follow?
Tito: Nah! The weird thing that everybody refuses to describe is out there. It’ll make short work of them.
There was a short indescribable noise outside as the brothers were eliminated from concern.
[writer - That Damned Overdue Pimpernel ]
With a satisfying feeling, they were just about to return to there earlier activities, (all except Dragon, who was unaware that he was actually using his yoga powers to simulate his unconcious condition) Penelope snuggled close to his face, starring in wide eyed fear of any indication that large one who
smelled of crisco was coming for him. That was all soon forgotten as the glass eye rolled past Penelope. She quickly darted after it.
Suddenly a voice said behind them, “You’re not getting out of this that easily.” Trauma and Tito turned, wearing ever smug looks on their faces. That is, until they actually turned around. Standing in the open back doorway were about a dozen men clad in black pants, stripped black and white shirts with black suspenders and portions of make up still caked in the pores of their faces.
At that moment Vindicator appeared at the top of the stairs in shredded clothing and torn duck tape hanging from his cheek.
Vindicator: “Animal! She’s and animal!!”
And just as suddenly he was yanked backwards, wide eyed and obviously terrified. However, Tito and Trauma had other things on their mind. Trauma smiled at the mimes as he searched for his doornob loaded sock, and wondered if he remembered to turn his jockeys inside out? Tito reached for his
brassknuckles and frowned at the prospect that, by the time the fight was over the knockout drops would have worn off.
As if nothing else could go wrong, it did. A temporal anomily appeared behind them, discarding a plethora of bar room combatants.
Dragon remained under dedicated yoga concentration.
Penelope had finally cornered the glass eye.
The owner of the glass eye had finally discovered that it was missing and made a replacement by rolling up a wad of tinfoil and jamming it into the socket.
Vindicator… well he was in trouble.
[writer - TRAUMA - Sorry... couldn't resist. ]
Tito and Trauma stood motionless facing the horde of hated mimes in that eerie sort of calm before the coming storm. They swayed menacingly. A few of the mimes tried to demoralize the two with quick renditions of “man carrying invisible piano”. It didn’t work but it gave Tito a few moments to think. He turned to Trauma and said,” it looks bad, we’ll fight back-to-back – you can
take this half (gesturing towards mimes).”
“Ok,” came Trauma’s reply and Tito gleefully turned to face what he presumed to be the vacant rear of the inn. Unfortunately for him, the temporal anomaly mentioned in the previous post had strewn several rather large and green Vogons around the rear of the inn. They saw him and lined up to give
Tito one of their world-renowned “beat ‘im till he screams like a woman” thrashings.
Several more moments passed and now some mimes were doing their “man walking into the wind” routines and still no fight. Trauma felt his arms getting stiff from standing rigidly in his belligerent stance and could wait no more. He had improved on his sock-and-twin-doorknobs design and now swung around a table cloth that had two brass spittoons in it as he waded into the crowd of mimes angrily.
Tito looked over his shoulder and witnessed this and turned back to face the Vogons who used this to trigger the start of their onslaught. Just then a semi-clad Vindicator appeared at the top of the stairs and screamed,” Oh god! she has “Erin Miklos was here” tattooed on her heinie.”
The Vogons were momentarily distracted and Tito took his chance. Baldric, was just staggering by after a wandering holy-man miraculously cured his spinal damage didn’t have time to look up when Tito labeled him with a brass-shod haymaker which floored the hapless Baldric almost instantaneously.
After shattering a glass bottle he began to jump up and down on Baldric’s chest, driving glass shards deeper into his flesh while loudly saying,”take that, Tito, you well-dressed, smart-mouthed thorn in the side of all peace-loving Vogons everywhere.”
The Vogons didn’t buy it, though and the pack of them set upon Tito as well as the stricken Baldric who they were going to pummel as well, just for the hell of it.
[writer -Tito ...it just keeps getting better... ]
The Vorgons were pummeling Tito and Baldric, eventually getting the grand idea that they could use Baldric as a blunt innstrument to do even more damage to the marshal. It was again becoming uncomfortably warm as Tito’s hate burned like a ciggarette soaked in lighter fluid.
Trauma began to be buffeted by the invisible wind. It was little comfort that the mimes seemed equially affected. One really big mime approaced with an invisible piano and prepared to swing it. Trauma was suddenly seized with an extreamely ludicous plan. Trauma’s hand shot out and grabbed a metalic object that the mime had conceiled in his back. The mime gave a look of horror as his movements became increasingly sluggish and he dropped the piano with a silent crash. His limbs started to stiffen until he eventually froze once “Robot winding down” was compleate. Trauma looked up with great triumph and disbelief only to look away quickly when he noticed the anomoly in the
Vindicator, who was watching from the stairs. Happened to notice that five figures, three of which were severely beaten, were emergeing from the anomoly. One was a strage young man dressed in red jeans and tie and a long regal looking cape. He had a pony tail and glasses. The rest of them were
what made Vindicator gasp. They were beat up versions of Tito, Vindicator and Trauma.
Second Trauma: So Pimpernel, did we take a wrong turn?
Second Tito: Yeah, this place looks like a dump!
First Pimpernel(ever): Of course not… This is just a really interesting route, thats all.
Vindicator(the real one?): Alternate realities too! We better get the book of time before nothing is sacred!
Second Vindicator: I knew he was going to say that!
Just then a small thirty day old donut came rolling through the anomoly. Penelope darted after it, seeking a new chalange after humbling the glass eye. Penelope soon discovered that Fifty humgry french republicans were also intent on the donut. The rush came hurtling through the warp and the fun
[writer - the Pimpernel-- you thought it was just an audition, didn't ya? (I'll be copying your signature lines next!) ]
Dragon awoke from his near coma-induced state. He had a REVELATION!! Through his deep, trance he discovered the perfect solution to get out of this setting, find Merlin, enlist his help to track down Mr. Naughty, retrieve the book, and save the Universe(again). As he sat up and opened his eyes, he noticed a herd of badly dressed rebuplicans chasing after a 30-day old donut and promptly forgot all about his dream-insight.
Noticing the rest of the chaos, he decided it was time for some action. His Yoga only took him so far, since it currently had no solution he fell back on his trusty correspondance Super-Hero training. Slinking off to a nearby corner, he looked up. Yup, just where he left it before the fight.
Up in the corner was a package covered in spider webbing. Sneaking a quick look to make sure noone saw him, he noticed Trauma swing at a Mime but slipped on the same ‘banana peel’ that the mime did, and in doing so clocked one of the Vogons about to pummel Tito. The Vogon fell backwards into a group of Mimes who dissapeared in a puff of smoke.
Dragon snatched the parcel and quickly opened it up. taking out a pair of red long-johns, he donned his trusty suit. Of course, the only way into it was through the ever-so-handy butt flap.
Baldric continued to bleed to death.
Penelope abondend her chase upon seeing incompentent government officials after the donut and wandered to peck at Baldric.
Vindicator crawled onto the top of the stairs with a grave warning for one-and-all to heed by” Be afraid….be very afraid…..” before being dragged back slowly. In the background you could hear “I’m not finished with you lover-boy….”
Dragon: Damn buttons….they’re so hard to get undone!
Trauma: “This is ridiculous! Let’s get out of here!”
Tito: ”Right! Ummm…how do we do it” while ducking from a blow by the nearest Vogon.
Trauma(while bashing another Mime): “Like always!” *Clang*
Tito: “Oh, you mean jump into that!” pointing at the anomoly
Trauma: Are you crazy? We’re gonna do it like any other craven-cowards/heros! Out the back door!
With a mad dash, they made their way through the kitchen. Tito saw the that lucious wench on his way though and gave her butt a good squeeze. The mad-mob of patrons followed as best they could. Dragon had finally opened the butt-flap! ”Ah HA! Got it!”
[writer - Dragon - Anyone else car to carry on?<EG> ]
The fighting was carried out into the street. The Nameless Phenomenon was still lurking dangerously about, yet no one knew why it was so dangerous. All that is… except Goliath. However, he was quite preoccupied with trying to unhook the pigeon from his belt.
A brass-shod backhand sent a Vogon staggering backwards, while a hefty blow from a swinging blanket loaded with two spitoons incapacitated a mime. It was only a matter of time really. Both the mimes and the Vogons teamed up and charged the two heroes as they fought back to back.
Tito: You realize… I hold Vinidcator totally responsible.
Trauma: I agree.
Just emerging from the tavern/inn, the duplicates of Trauma, Tito, Dragon and Vindicator along with the Scarlet Pimpernel watched the fight.
Second Trauma: Oooo! A fight!
Second Tito: Give ‘em the chair! The Chair!
At that moment… a red pajama clad Dragon appeared on the rooftop.
Dragon: Dum dum-dum! Oops…
A loose shingle set him flailing off the roof and ontop of the Vogon-Mime forces. With this much needed help… Trauma and Tito quickly pummeled them into unconsciousness.
From a second story window, with an explosion of glass, Vindicator fell screaming.
Up the street Goliath finally freed his wand.
Goliath: I’ll show them! I really am a wizard! I’ll burn their fucking house down!
He quickly galloped up to the tavern/inn and began chanting and waving his wand.
Moments later Baldric managed to drag his body out the door and into the street as well.
Now that everyone was gathered outside, and the nameless anomoly was outside, they stared dumbfounded as to what they would do next.
[writer - TRAUMA - Groove U. ]
NOTE: The following is a list of all the characters currently involved in the story.
Trauma, Marshal Tito, Dragon, Vindicator, the Chicken, Goliath, Scarlet Pimpernel, Baldrick, (Trauma/Tito/Dragon/Vindicator duplicates)
… I think its time for some hack and slash.
[writer - ????]
The Characters stood ready to confront the Nameless phenomenon when The pimpernel had a sudden revalation.
Pimpernel: I understand! I figured it out!
Vindicator: So how do they get the soft flowing Caramilk…
Pimpernel: No, don’t you see! you are the Beligerent ones, but you have to go through the portal to 18th century France, because there you meet me and figure out how to get back here!
Second Vindicator: That is pretty much how you will remember it when you become me. You are us only before we got to where we are now.
Trauma: If you think I’m going through that portal just to rationalize the existance of someone who looks just like me only with better hair. Forget it!
Second Trauma: Actually that’s just because your hair is all matted with blood. We wash that off long before…
Second Vindicator: Look Trauma! I mean the first Trauma. What you are suggesting is that you go against the timeline that has been presented to us and if that happen there would be a paradox of unimaginable preportions.
Trauma: (Looking unconvinced) Tell me if you are Vindicator from the future, then we already had this conversation, right?
Second Vindicator: right.
Trauma: Did that argument convince me last time?
Second Vindicator: No
Trauma: Then why did you try it if you knew I would be unconvinced?
Second Vindicator: Because last time this circular nonsence distracted you long enough for Tito to clock you!
Tito obligingly knocks Trauma cold. The second Trauma then clocks Tito.
Second Trauma: You hit me, I hit you back.
Tito: I didn’t hit you, I hit him (indicates the unconscious Trauma)
Second Trauma: He is me!
Tito: But… Oh yeah.
Just then the second Tito tackles the Second Trauma and Tito decides to join in and togeter the Tito’s start to pummle the now outnumbered Trauma.
Second Vindicator: I guess I couldn’t expect it to go better the second time through.
[writer - That Damned Cyclical Pimpernel ]
As the two Titos were laying a thrashing on the second Trauma, the two Vindicators and the two Dragons eyed each other suspiciously.
1st Vindicator: (to 2nd Vin & 2nd Dragon) Um, should we be, like, beating you up or something?
2nd Vindicator: (thinks a moment before answering) No, but I’ve been meaning to tell you something. You’re always making stupid comments like that and it really bugs the hell out of me. Smarten up, for crying out loud!
Vindicator was stunned at being insulted by his own double and was struck momentarily speechless.
2nd Vindicator: I just said that to get even for being insulted by my double back when I was in your place.
By this time, Titos #1 and #2 had beaten Trauma #2 to unconsciousness and were now congratulating each other on a well-delivered beating.
1st Tito: It’s lucky I stepped in when I did or else you’d have got thrashed and made me look bad.
2nd Tito: Are you kidding? If I didn’t take him from behind like I did, he’d have kicked your sorry ass 5 ways to France without even using the <UNEXPLAINED PHENOMENA>.
1st Tito: We’ll see who’s tougher, punk. First I’m gonna grab Trauma’s double’s spittoon-flail. Then I’m gonna kick your ass quickly followed by me returning to my wenching. I’m NOT going through anymore <UNEXPLAINED PHENOMENA> – I’m way too “hep” for that.
When he finished speaking he turned and bent down to pick up 2nd Trauma’s discarded spittoon flail. As he picked it up he realized it was different. Unfolding it he saw that it was actually a bloodstained French Republican Tricolour flag holding a pair of 8 pounder cannonette balls. While he was busily examining this find, Tito #2 had crept up behind him and crowned him with a brass shod fist.
As Tito #1 lay on the ground fading from consciousness, Tito #2 stood grinning over him.
2nd Tito: Never turn your back on yourself, Tito, that’s a lesson you taught me (rubs his own head)
The three remaining doubles plus the Scarlet Pimpernel (the one and only?) turned to the remaining original Trio, Vindicator and Dragon.
2nd Dragon: Now, my incredible Yoga powers of deduction tell me you have 2 choices:
1. go through the <UNEXPLAINED PHENOMENA> carrying your friends
2. be thrown through the <UNEXPLAINED PHENOMENA> along with your friends in an unconscious state.
2nd Penelope: (menacingly) B’ka!
[writer - That damned ultimatum delivering Pimpernel: Well, which shall it be? ]
Vindicator and Dragon looked at each other and considered the question. The choices were either knuckle under to superior numbers and slink through the <UNEXPLAINED PHENOMENA> like a pair of spineless cowards…or…to give these so-called double smartasses the thrashing of their lives for laying cheap shots on their friends in an heroic and violent fashion. A smile spread across their faces. Their choice was simple…
Moments later, Vindicator and Dragon had crossed the <UNEXPLAINED PHENOMENA> carrying their unconscious friends into what was presumably the countryside in 18th century France.
Vindicator: I was going to kick their heads in but I didn’t want you to get hurt with that wounded arm of yours and all.
Dragon: Yeah, I promised my correspondence-Yoga-Sensei I wouldn’t resort to violence unless it was absolutely necessary, sorta-like Chuck Norris in Lone Wolf McQuade. Y’know…
Momentarily Tito and Trauma came to and the Trio surveyed their surroundings, noticing the absence of the <UNEXPLAINED PHENOMENA> much to the relief of Trauma who hadn’t had a chance to refill his bottle of Jack Daniels yet.
[writer - Tito -ok, everyone back to work... ]
The four heros watched their earlyer selves step through the <UNEXPLAINED PHENOMINA> and into 18th century France. Tito picked up a rock to throw through the portal so he could make Trauma all queasy from the time distortions. But was stopped by [writer - That Damned Interrupting Pimpernel.
Pimpernel: Don't litter in alternate realities, it's impolite.
Tito: Who are you anyway? We're minding our own business...
Pimpernel: Getting lynched by a mob of unwashed republicans...
Tito: When Mr. High-and-Polite Pimpernel starts tagging along after us!
Pimpernel: Actually I was holding you up so you wouldn't fall over from that thrashing the Revolutionaries gave you.
Tito: look whos expository flashback is this?
Pimpernel: There is a perfectly plausable explaination...
Vindicator: Which story are you in?
Pimpernel: Ok there is a contrived pseudo-scientific explanation rife with inconsistancies.
Trauma: Now your talking...
Pimpernel: I'm from the same reality as you four. I was sent here to find the beligerent ones so I can stop Dr. Naughty from destroying all of Space-Time.
Dragon: My Yoga powers say that you are lying!
Pimpernel: Well I'm not.
Pimpernel: I'm afraid so.
Pimpernel: Sorry to disappoint you.
Dragon: Don't worry about it...
Pimpernel: You had a fifty-fifty cahnce of being...
Dragon: Back off!
Vindicator: So how do We find Dr. Naughty?
Sorry about taking the next post guys but I wanted to get back in the swing. Now lets see where this goes.
[writer - That Damned Open ended Pimpernel ]