Unicorns, Rainbows, Guitars

Mot D-hoople drug Ani Wan Buttme's limp body into the tent holding Autumn Sky. Before leaving, he remembered Mor Izmor's directive to keep an eye on her. Dutifully, he reached into his right eye socket and pulled out his eye with a plop. To the disgust and revulsion of Autumn, he affixed it to her right thigh with a bit of slime looking up at her. "I might as well enjoy the view," he thought to himself and left.

Then Autumn was alone with Buttme - save for the staring eyeball on her thigh. She recognized the old Farce Master as Lazlo's grandfather. Even if she had not known him personally, she would have known of his reputation.

She picked up a dirty rag and wet it in the small terrine of filthy water in front of her and cleaned the large gash on the back of Buttme's skull.

"Some rescue," she said softly, channeling another princess in a galaxy far, far away.

Ani Wan Buttme's head was on fire. He had double vision and he was still weak. He looked up from Autumn's left thigh and caught a glimpse of her frilly panties. On Autumn's right thigh, Mot D-hoople's disembodied eye was enjoying the same view.

Seeing the eye, Buttme uttered his first words since waking up, "I wrote a song about zombies liking frilly panties once…"

Autum blushed and shifted her short skirt a bit. She needn't have bothered, Buttme was completely devoted to his wife Nobedee Wan. The move cut off the zombie eye's view as well and the eye was looking a bit piqued.

Across the compound, Mot D-hoople cursed, "Damn, can't ever catch a break."

Lazlo was wandering the factory again, The zombie brain he had shared with Knowles had hit the spot and he allowed his mind to wander in the midst of the organized chaos of the extra workers.

He thought of Autumn Sky. He knew he must find her before the zombies did and that he had always loved her. As he strolled the plant, he composed a new song.

Where oh where
Are you tonight?
Why did you leave me
Here all alone?
I searched the world over and
Thought I'd found true love
You met another and
Thbbbtt, you was gone….

I am reading this thread, and would just like to make a sidebar comment.

I have realized that this thread, and the creative writing aspect of it....has become crack cocaine for our friend Ruger. He takes a hit....he waits anywhere from 20 minutes to 2 hours....the moments stretch...he fights the urge.....and then...another hit.

The pattern is clear. You have found your addiction, and it is zombie and unicorn based. I guesss it's based on gravity and "perkiness" as well.

I wish you well. The withdrawal process is excruciating.




:biggrin::biggrin::biggrin::biggrin::biggrin:

This sidebar shall IN NO WAY be construed as anything but a positive commentary on Ruger's writing skills and hope that he shall continue his addiction unabated.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by docbennett

I am reading this thread, and would just like to make a sidebar comment.

I have realized that this thread, and the creative writing aspect of it....has become crack cocaine for our friend Ruger. He takes a hit....he waits anywhere from 20 minutes to 2 hours....the moments stretch...he fights the urge.....and then...another hit.

The pattern is clear. You have found your addiction, and it is zombie and unicorn based. I guesss it's based on gravity and "perkiness" as well.

I wish you well. The withdrawal process is excruciating.




:biggrin::biggrin::biggrin::biggrin::biggrin:

This sidebar shall IN NO WAY be construed as anything but a positive commentary on Ruger's writing skills and hope that he shall continue his addiction unabated.

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I'm just filling in waiting for Les and Mike to continue. And Hans - can't wait to read what comes out of his noodle. And, you are correct, it is addictive. I'll be doing other things and a new blurb will just pop into my head. It's a blessing. It's a curse. It's a blessing and a curse. I just hope I'm not boring people or putting them off.

I'm having fun and I do hope that others will join in and contribute.

But it's not cocaine for me. I could stop at any time, really I could. No need for a keyboard intervention. Step away from my mouse...

Quote:

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Originally Posted by rugerpc

I'm just filling in waiting for Les and Mike to continue. And Hans - can't wait to read what comes out of his noodle. And, you are correct, it is addictive. I'll be doing other things and a new blurb will just pop into my head. It's a blessing. It's a curse. It's a blessing and a curse. I just hope I'm not boring people or putting them off.

I'm having fun and I do hope that others will join in and contribute.

But it's not cocaine for me. I could stop at any time, really I could. No need for a keyboard intervention. Step away from my mouse...

---

I hope you understood the spirit my levity was intended. You happen to be a fantastic word smith, and your use of subtle puns and creative spin is very much appreciated. I sure hope you took it that way.


Now...get back to the story, dammit!!

"How are you feeling?" asked Autumn.

"Still groggy. My right ear feels a bit too soft." replied Buttme.

"That's because your head is still on my thigh."

"Oh, that explains it. It hasn't felt that good in years." He managed a wink as he sat up holding his head. Autumn blushed again.

"I knew your grandmother, you know." he said.

"No, I didn't know that." Autumn thought of her grandmother, Princess Summerfall Winterspring. She knew that she used to live in Doobieville. She was a great warrior, but she died a useless death. Autumn sighed as she thought of her grandmother dying of terminal munchies, choking on a Twinkie. "I'm glad they don't make those damn things any more." she muttered aloud.

"What? What's that?" asked Buttme.

Autumn was indeed a princess, but the memory of her grandmother's death and her current situation had made her morose.

"You came in here, but didn't you have a plan for getting out?" she snapped, still channeling that other princess in a galaxy far, far away. She regretted it immediately, huge tears filling her eyes.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by rugerpc

I'm just filling in waiting for Les and Mike to continue. And Hans - can't wait to read what comes out of his noodle. And, you are correct, it is addictive. I'll be doing other things and a new blurb will just pop into my head. It's a blessing. It's a curse. It's a blessing and a curse. I just hope I'm not boring people or putting them off.

I'm having fun and I do hope that others will join in and contribute.

But it's not cocaine for me. I could stop at any time, really I could. No need for a keyboard intervention. Step away from my mouse...

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It is fun!

Interesting new plot (Perhaps) with Davy Knowles getting it on with Gloria Sass!

I'll try and contribute a little more tomorrow:

Here's the list Ruger created again for reference. The character list is growing and the spelling of the names is important! :)

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Heros:
Lazlo Buzzdriver
Ani Wan Buttme
Nobedee Wan Buttme
Yngwie
Schefman
Skitchy
Shawn Huthall
Paul Reed Smith
Carlos Santana
Mike Deeley
Autumn Sky (princess)
Mike Ault
Tony McManus
Bennett
^ Gloria Sass
^ President David Grissom
^ Highlander (eaten)
^ Bernie Marsden
^ Davy Knowles
^ Princess Summerfall Winterspring (Twinkied)

*******
Zombies:
Mor Izmor
Man-Dye Day-O
Jumba-Jimba
^ Tab-itha
^ En-doraa
^ Sam-anntha
^ Darr-in (dispatched)
^ Mot D-hoople

********
T'ok (Gorn'shdt):
Jane Buzzdriver (T'ok M'gill, aka L'ill, aka N'ancy)
T'ok Tewmuch
T'ok Schmaak
Grand T'ok Schiddt
T'ok Tofuturr'kay (destroyed)
T'ok Abhout'it
List'sin Twodoo'hr Mut'sik
^ T'ok Tuu'meeh

T'ok Ships:
Snow White (mothership)
Sneezy (cargo)
Dopey (scout :: destroyed)
^De'videby'zeehro (fighter)

T'ok home planet:
Gorn'shdt
locations:
Mak Shi'tup

********
^ The No:ah:
^ No:ah Counta (drowned)

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"T'ok Nancy! I haven't sniffed you in a dithnupian's age!" It was T'ok Abhoudit.

"How did you get here?" she wondered aloud. She remembered the last time he sniffed her. It had been a pretty good evening, even though he hadn't completely satisfied her. But then, so few ever did. That's why she killed and ate most of them afterward.

"I can't tell you how I got here," he said. "The guy who's writing my dialog right now can't really remember the plot, he's been in the studio a lot lately. But he can think of a few preposterous things to say every now and then, even though he can't compete with Ruger when it comes to thighs and perkiness."

"I'm not into perkiness," said Nancy, revealing her most unperky but very appealing cleavage as she bent over to return the sniff.

OK, she's a nasty alien, but even the most awful of aliens can have cleavage, if it moves the story along... ;)

Quote:

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Originally Posted by LSchefman

OK, she's a nasty alien, but even the most awful of aliens can have cleavage, if it moves the story along... ;)

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Indeed. How else could she have kept Lazlo's mind off of Autumn whie pretnpending to be his human wife?

Quote:

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Originally Posted by rugerpc

Indeed. How else could she have kept Lazlo's mind off of Autumn whie pretnpending to be his human wife?

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Maybe Laz is a leg man.

His stomach now full on the feast of Zombie Brain, Davy Knowles took a sip of water and picked out a small sliver of skull that had wedged beween his teeth. Again, he cought the eye of Gloria Sass and decided he would make the move first. Picking up an Angelus acoustic with a European Spruce with maple purfling top and it's Proprietary Robson-Designed Tuners he walked over to Gloria.
"You going to seranade me Davy" She purred.
"New song I wrote just for you!" Davy said as he fished a plectrum from his pocket. "Okay, here goes..."

"Hey Gloria
Glo-ri-a Sass
I'd like to lay down with you
In the long green grass

Hey Gloria
Glo-ri-a Sass
I love the way you move
Like Liquified Petroloeum Gas

Hold on while I take a solo

Oh Gloria, the way you move
Like a needle in the groove
Dancing to the tune
like an electrocuted Baboon

Your face is so divine
Like a Uraguayan Potato Vine
I like you Glo ree yaa
Your'e a bit like Eva Long orrr reee yah

Ok, outro solo"

Lazlo felt a little sorrowful watching Davy play confidently for Gloria. Sure, she was cute but not for him. He'd keep his new song to himself as he knew who he really wanted to perform for. He just hoped he'd get the chance. He fished a book from his back pocket.
"The Twenty One Rules Of Tony... I should really get to grips with this." But he just stared at the cover and thought of Autumn.

"Poor Laz," thought Ani-Wan. "I know he loves this girl, Autumn, but there's something about her he doesn't know, couldn't know. Like all female descendants of the Winterspring female warrior clan, who use men solely for reproductive purposes, she was not heterosexual. But the Wintersprings refuse to come out of the closet until they reproduce.

And I promised her grandmother that I would keep the secret. I sure hope he can read her aura with the help of The Farce."

http://i906.photobucket.com/albums/a...53/omg-cat.jpg

Mor Izmor rode his unicorn to the head of his column of The 10,000 Immortals, who were also mounted and lined up along a mile-long front, swords and blasters at their sides, zombie clubs at the ready. This incursion was going to make or break the outcome of the war. He rode past his zombies like a general reviewing his troops, their tin foil helmets glittering in the afternoon sky, their unicorns snorting and kicking up the ground, before the night attack would begin.

"Zombies of the Ten Thousand Immortals," he shouted, "Our honor demands victory! Our courage says that we will never surrender an inch of ground to the humans who have not yet died! For a thousand years this coming battle will be remembered, and the names of the heroes will be on the lips of zombie children!"

"Do you want total war?!" he roared.

Ten thousand zombie voices rose as one. "Yes!"

"Are you willing to risk a second death rather than dishonor our zombie legacy!"

They shouted again; "Yes!"

"Are you willing to ride into a hail of bullets knowing full well the humans will eat your brains if you fall!"

There was an uncomfortable silence for a few heartbeats. The zombies looked around at each other nervously for a moment. The shout was less unanimous. "Uh, Sure!"

"If they shoot nuclear weapons at us, will you ride with me!!!"

Another silence, the unicorns stirred. One zombie yelled, "He is asking for our honor! Are you with him!!!"

"I guess so!" Came the unanimous reply.

Izmor tried a less fearful approach this time. "Who is with me to rape, pillage, gain revenge, and eat humans!!!!"

They all cheered.

"That was close," thought Mor. Then he yelled: "Yeeeee-haaaaaaa!" and took off at a gallop. The other 9,999 Immortals spurred their unicorns and followed in pursuit.

No one knows how Wilhelm Furtwangler and the Vienna Philarmonic's recording of Wagner's "Ritt der Walküren" suddenly started playing so loudly in the background as the zombies took off, but everyone who was there swears they heard it.

****

Tied up in the tent, Buttme chuckled. "Kill the Wabbit, Kill the Wabbit..." he sang, as he thought of the Warner Brothers cartoon with the same melody...then he easily united himself, went over to the zombies' primitive record player, and turned it off.

Coffey Music in Westminster MD was surrounded. It was a predictable target, being the only Authorized PRS Dealer in Carroll County. But Bob Coffey was more than prepared.He had a huge selection of PRSi and a crack staff led by Salesman Greg. There was also BillSAS who wielded his Swamp Ash Special viciously when needed. Bob had his own ringer, Christopher James. Chris had forgotten more blues licks than most people knew. Muddy Waters, Howlin' Wolf, Buddy Guy, Robert Johnson, B.B King - he knew them all.

Bob had his staff make a defensive perimeter with his most powerful amps. There were all of the PRS designs along with Marshals and high end Hughes and Kettners. On his signal, everyone plugged in and let loose. The unicorn steeds were massacred. The zombie troops were in disarray, their steeds falling dead beneath them.

In the turmoil, the gun emplacements on the roof opened up. The noise was cacophonous. This was Carroll County after all. Hundreds of loyal Coffey Music Customers line the roof with their own weapons. They went through cases of ammo and vats of KC Masterpiece. The battle of Westminster was over. The streets were slippery with silver unicorn blood and the people feasted.

Paul assembled a small group. Besides Lazlo, there was Mike Ault, Davy Knowles and the Grainger Brothers. Paul handed each of them a goldtop with the new UX 409 pups installed, Greg Grainger, being a drummer, got one with a Roland interface set to "Killer Drums." Gary Grainger of course had a signature bass, but it was fitted with UXB 409s.

Pauls axe was a DGTØ prototype with UX 4Ø9s.

http://i1073.photobucket.com/albums/...ctric/DGT0.jpg

Paul led them to the loading dock where another joined their party. Sir Geo the White used to be a guitar tech for Santana. But when Carlos switched to PRS guitars, he found that they played so well straight out of the box and were so easy to maintain, he let most of his techs go. Sir Geo was now a rap/hiphop artist who favored PRS Guitars, especially the CEs.

On the loading dock were seven highly modified Arctic Cat 4 wheelers. Paul said they could go 97 mph before they even got into their big hemi's power curve. Each Cat had an HX/DA and large 4 by cab. As if that was not enough, Pauls staff had mounted a GE Mini Gun on a turret above the speaker cab on each one.

"We're going across the pond to Annapolis and try out these new pups." Paul grinned. With that, they mounted up and roared down the ramp at the NorthWest corner of the building.

Just North of Rt. 50, Paul's caravan found an expeditionary force. The zombies formed a skirmish line almost a mile long. The PRS faithful wavered a bit, but Paul just winked at them. He pulled on his Brain Scan/Brain Switching Beanie and thought of his most distorted tone, the DGTØ responded by dirtying up nicely and sending a likewise signal to the HX/DA behind him. It was only then that the troupe noticed that all the amps went to "11." Paul noodled out Imagine and unicorns began to fall. When he got to the power chord he liked to throw into his rendition, many more fell.

The Grainger brothers smiled and set off into a funky groove. Unicorns were crushing their masters to get away. Mike Ault joined in and the melee started. Davy Knowles put down some crushing leads and Sir Geo the White laid down a vicious rap. Lazlo countered with the opening riff from his grandfather's Zombie Death:

D G Bb C Db~~~ C....

The seven of them put their GE Mini Guns on AUTO-TRAC. The sound was deafening, like ripping fabric only impossibly loud. The sweet smell of KC Masterpiece filled the air.

It was over. Paul grinned and said, "Was that STUPID or What!?! Let's get back to the ranch." There were more battles yet to come.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by rugerpc

There were more battles yet to come.

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or not...

Quote:

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Originally Posted by rugerpc

or not...

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In the basement of the former Detroit Central Station, now a wrecked shell, but turned into a secret bunker, Mor Izmor reported to his T'ok handlers.

"We were outgunned and outflanked by Smith and his PRS Army," the zombie reported. "Although we were inspired by the fervor that we shared with our T'ok comrades to take over the earth, we have not been able to carry out our mission."

Grand T'ok Schiddt shifted uneasily in his seat. He was flanked by Nancy and T'ok Abhoudit, who looked nervous.

"I commanded you to achieve a victory," said the T'ok leader. "I gave you weapons and unicorns. I gave you backing and guidance. You have failed our cause. You have failed me. And I promised the T'ok Earth. Or at least Maryland. What am I to tell them now?"

Izmor lowered his head. He was not afraid of death. He'd been there before.

Nancy and Abhoudit knew what lay in store for themselves on the home planet. Under Izmor's curious gaze, they immediately drew their weapons, and stuck them in their mouths, and pulled the triggers. Brains and blood were everywhere. Izmor became suddenly very hungry.

"Have your last meal, Mor," said Schiddt.

As the zombie ate, Schiddt drew an unusual weapon from his belt, and with a look of sadness, vaporized Izmor. Then he turned the weapon on himself.