Thursday, 12 July 2007

Chapter 23

an ongoing atrocity of a blog novel

"What are you going to do?" asked GiGi looking at the demoniacally possessed car that blocked their path, not only to freedom from the cursed vampire town, but also to the lost Albanian Budgie and possibly the salvation of the planet.

"Let me think back to the seven other times a satanic sedan has tried to kill me," replied Furious D.

"How come you've had so many encounters with satanically possessed cars?" asked Playful1.

"I tend to get on people's nerves," said Furious D. "Who's in the mood for some chicken?"

"Not me," answered Saccharine. "I grabbed a sandwich at the Salem's Lot Subway while we were torching the vampires."

"I wasn't talking about product placements," said Furious D, "I was talking about the game chicken."

Furious D hit the gas and sent their Buick 8 charging at the demonic car.

The devil car roared it's engine and charged.

Chompy the badger growled.

"I know it's a stupid idea," replied Furious D, "but we've tried all the smart ideas and look where they've gotten us. Now's the time to grab the brass ring of idiocy!"

The two great behemoths charged at each other, their engines roaring like hungry dragons. The demon car showed no sign of slowing down or swerving out of their way.

"Isn't a demon car indestructible?" asked GiGi.

"Yes it is," said Furious D.

"Then this is a really stupid idea," said Playful1.

"Not as stupid as what I'm about to do," said Furious D.

Furious D nudged the car ever so slightly to the left, putting it's right tires perfectly in line with a small ramp that had been mysteriously and conveniently placed in their path.

With the thump of metal our hero's Buick tipped over, riding on it's left tires. The demon car slipped right beneath them, defying the laws of physics and good storytelling, and became instantly mired in a pile of freshly scorched vampires.

"Next stop," said Furious D, "Smuggler's Crotch."


Furious D and his companions didn't know why the high cliff overlooking the Atlantic ocean was called Smuggler's Crotch. It didn't particularly look like a crotch, and smelled more like ass.

"We're here," said Furious D as he got out of the car. "Where's LaFarge meeting his pickup?"

"This is as far as you go," said Saccharine.

Furious D turned to see that three of his companions, Playful1, GiGi and Chompy were securely bound and gagged and Saccharine had a pistol in her hand.

"You're pretty fast with the rope," said Furious D.

"I have very skilled hands," said Saccharine.

"Why are you doing this?" asked Furious D.

"I'm the bad girl," said Saccharine, "I'm supposed to do the evil bitchy stuff."

"Thanks Saccharine," said Gaston LaFarge as he emerged from the shadows, a pistol in his hand. "I knew Furious D couldn't resist helping a damsel in distress, that's why I really left her in the town full of vampires, in order for her to lead you here to me."

"That's a pretty convoluted plan," said Furious D. "You could have just met me in the town."

"It's a good plan."

"Or ambushed me before I got to town," added Furious D.

"Will you shut up so I may gloat," said Gaston LaFarge. "I want you to see the stuff that dreams are made of before you die."

LaFarge reached into his voluminous black coat and pulled out a small golden bird.

"The lost Albanian Budgie," said LaFarge, "the key to ruling the world."

"Or destroying it," said Furious D. "You don't know what you've got there. One misstep and you and everyone else is done for."

"Maybe we should have Furious D translate the instructions before we kill him?" asked Seamus, Lafarge's other personality.

"No!" screamed LaFarge, "I will not let him live a moment longer to pester me!"

"You are bad at understanding instructions," added Seamus.

"That is a myth spread by my enemies!" screeched LaFarge. "Enemies like him!"

Gaston fired his pistol.

Furious D felt the bullet slam into his chest and he stumbled back into the blackness and certain death that lay over the cliff.

"Bwah-hah-hah!" laughed LaFarge as he watched his heroic nemesis plunge into the watery shadows over five hundred feet below.

"You're an arsehole," said Seamus.


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