Friday, 17 August 2007


"Chompy!" I cried out as I fell to my knees in the front lawn of the White House. My tear stained eyes looking up at the plume of fire and smoke that hung high in the azure sky.

"He was a good badger," said GiGi. "Good for a dangerous psychotic badger, that is."

"He will be deeply missed," said Playful1, eager to get a line in. "By the way, why is the Chapter caller This is the End?"

"I guess this is going to be the last chapter," I replied, "I guess the author decided that the joke had gone on long enough."

"Aren't you the author?" asked GiGi.

"Oooh," I said in awe, "cosmic."

"Don't we still have to stop Gaston LaFarge from destroying the world?" asked Playful1.

I rose off my heroic knees, brushed them off with my courageous hands, and gave one valiant salute to my recently atomized compadre. I then wiped the intrepid sweat from my gallant brow, and aimed my fearless eyes toward my daring destiny.

"Aren't going a little nuts with the ego stroking?" asked GiGi.

"Just doing the job you Americans won't do," I said.

"You're Mexican?" asked Playful1.

"Let's stop LaFarge," I said, "I know where he's hiding!"

"How?" asked GiGi.

"I'm writing the damn thing," I said with my brave mouth, "I should at least have a clue where this is going."


"No one will find us here," said Gaston LaFarge as he poured a glass of champagne for his partner in dastardliness the full-time femme-fatale and part time clog dancing champion; Saccharine.

"Who would ever think to look for a stolen Russian submarine in the Mississippi River?" said Saccharine triumphantly as she took her champagne.

"I would," I said as I opened the hatch and dropped into the submarine, followed by GiGi and Playful1.

"By the left nut of Zeus!" exclaimed Gaston LaFarge. "How did you find us?"

"This stretch of the Mississippi isn't deep enough to hide a submarine," I declared. "Half of your boat's sticking out in plain sight. You'd have to be a complete idiot to miss it."

"Well we were hiding from you after all," said LaFarge.

"Can the smooth talk Mr. Smoothie McSmooth-Smooth," I said, "you're under arrest!"

"Yeah," said GiGi, "and don't let the fact that we didn't bring any guns or weapons make you think you can get away!"

LaFarge and Saccharine both drew their pistols and aimed them at us.

"Any last requests before I kill you dead once and for all," said LaFarge.

"I'd like to offer you something to eat," I said.

"What?" said LaFarge.

"It's called a KNUCKLE SANDWICH!"

My fist struck out with lightning speed and connected with LaFarge's jaw, his pistol went flying on a one way ticket out the hatch on Whoop-Ass Airlines.

"Don't like that?" I asked, "Perhaps you'd like a CHOP instead! Hai-Yah!"

My expert judo chop sent LaFarge flying across the room and he hit the steel wall hard.

"Why aren't you helping?" asked LaFarge of his partner, who still had her gun.

"You always said you could take him in a fair fight," she said, "I just want to see if you were lying."

"Of course I was lying," said LaFarge, "this is Furious D we're talking about!"

"Fine, you big wuss," said Saccharine as she raised her pistol to aim it at me. But before she could fire, she was tackled by both GiGi and Playful1.

"Catfight!" said LaFarge, and the three women fell to the floor, wrestling and pulling hair.

"Ladies," I said, "don't fight like that. Let me get the hot oil, and we can all be civilized about it."

When I regained consciousness I realized that there are some times I should just keep my ideas to myself. Especially when it could result in a flash beating by three angry women.

"You have to stop him," said Saccharine who was tied up to a chair next to the equally bound GiGi and Playful1. "He's got the Albanian Budgie and he's going to use it!"

"LaFarge isn't insane," I said, "it's too powerful for any ordinary man to handle."

"LaFarge doesn't have it," said Saccharine, "Seamus has it, and he's gone completely nuts! He tied us all up and declared that he was going to end the world!"

Seamus was LaFarge's other personality, who was smarter and more dangerous than LaFarge himself. I had to stop him. The fate of the world rested on my broad courageous shoulders.

"I'll stop him," I declared before realizing that I was tied to a chair as well. "Isn't this a sticky wicket?"

Then I flexed my mighty muscles and shattered the chair I was tied to into tiny pieces. Anyone who tells you that the chair broke under extra weight is a damn dirty liar.

I took a knife from a counter and placed it in GiGi's hand.

"Cut yourself free while I save the world," I told as I climbed out the hatch.

I climbed out onto the deck of the submarine, Seamus was on the conning tower, the Albanian Budgie was in his hands.

"You're too late," said Seamus, "the budgie has been activated. No ordinary man can stop it!"

"But I'm not ordinary," I declared, "I'm a private dick."

I then let out my battle cry and charged.

Seamus drew his pistol.

Sticky wicket.

"I'm going to shoot you," said Seamus, "I'm going to shoot you a lot."

Just then a howl came from the sky and a smoking, fleshy ball of fury landed right on Seamus/LaFarge. The dastard let out a howl as whatever hit started tearing apart his head with explosive fury.

The Albanian Budgie fell and landed on the deck with a thud. It was glowing. I picked it up, the intense heat coming off the metallic bird would have sent a lesser man in paroxysms of agony, but I was made of tougher stuff.

Started carefully performing the deactivation ritual, but the glowing grew more intense, there was only one way to stop it.

I pulled out the batteries.

"Isn't that a bit of a cheat?" asked Playful1 as she and the others emerged from the submarine.

"You know," I said, "there's still a chance for someone to get written out."

"It's the last chapter, oooh, I'm so scared!"

Suddenly a bolt of lightning zapped Playful1 and she made a complete ash of herself.

"Hey," said GiGi, knowing her place in the story, "what mauled LaFarge to death."

I turned to face the mangled corpse of my old enemy, and was pleasantly surprised.

"Chompy!" I yelled, "you're alive!"

Chompy nodded, he was a little singed around the edges, and all of his hair was gone, leaving him naked as the day he was spawned, but he was okay.

"Hurray for Chompy," said Playful1.

"I thought you were zapped by lightning?" I asked.

"And Chompy was supposed to get blown up," she said, "continuity isn't your strong suit."

"Well at least we can take comfort in the world being saved," said Saccharine. "And take this moment of happiness to forget all the terrible crimes I committed during the course of this story."

"Sure," I said. "Let's all forget our many many crimes, and walk off into the sunset."

"Sounds like a good idea."

"And I know a place where we can put this cursed bird where it will never threaten humanity again."

And with that we returned to Los Angeles, there I got the Albanian Budgie signed to the ICM talent agency. It was never seen or heard from again.


Saturday, 11 August 2007

Chapter 27

I fell to the ground and felt the wind shot out of me as the assassin doorman Marcel drove his boot into my gut.

Then I realized.

The story was no longer being done like a teleplay. Joel Surnow must have left to go back to 24, leaving me to narrate my story once again.

And when the narrator's telling the story, all bets and any semblance of realism are off.

Using skills derived from my break-dancing days as "Groovy D" I balanced my taut muscular body on my lying head and spun.

My foot made contact several times over with Marcel's heavily bandaged face, then his face made contact with the ground.

Marcel tried to get up, then his head fell off.

That was unexpected.

Seeing that my fight was over, I rushed down the road to rescue the others.


"Hey," said GiGi. "Furious D is narrating again, and he's narrating scenes he's not in again. I wish he'd stop that, it completely ruins the... um, what's word?"

"Verisimilitude?" said the cougar that had been stalking her.

"That's it," said GiGi, "Very-similar-tube. Wait a minute cougar, are you going to try to eat me?"

"Let's see how the mauling works out first," said the cougar, baring its fangs and claws.

"What is a cougar doing in the Maine woods anyway?" asked GiGi, realizing that she had nowhere to run.

"Don't ask me," said the cougar, "I didn't write this crap."

"Is that a gun?" asked GiGi.

"No," answered the cougar, "I'm just happy to see you. Of course it's a gun. Like I said before, I didn't write this crap."

"That's my job," I bellowed, my heroic baritone echoing off the trees as I did my patented flying kick, knocking the pistol from the cougar's paw.

"Fine," said the cougar, baring its claws again, "I couldn't have used it anyway since I don't have opposable thumbs."


"But I do," said GiGi, pulling the trigger on the cougar's pistol again, putting another bullet into the beast's back.

"Remember me," croaked the cougar with his last breath, "as an oddity of nature."

"Thanks GiGi," I said, "but I'm still taking the credit for rescuing you."

"Oh fiddlesticks."

"Now let's go save the others," I said.

"But they're miles away and we don't have a vehicle," said GiGi, "how are we going to get there."

"We'll break for a commercial," I answered.



"You're my hero Furious D," said Playful1 as I undid the last her bonds that... uh... bonded her to a chair tied to a bomb. "And I'm not just saying that because you're writing my dialogue. I really mean it because you expertly defused that bomb, then re-fused it, and tossed it into that bus load of dangerous criminals."

"They'll never book a package tour like that again," I said.

"There's a missile heading for the White House," exclaimed GiGi pointing to a TV that was covering the impending apocalypse live.

"Let's go!"


"Man that missile is taking its sweet time coming here," said the President.

"Shouldn't we be running away," said one of his aides.

"Naw," said the President, "Furious D is on the case, he always cuts it a little close, but he always comes through in the end."

"But this isn't the end," said the aide. "We don't know how much longer he'll keep this literary train wreck going."

"Oh shit," said the President, "that means I can be killed off and replaced by a snivelling underling who will undermine Furious D at every turn. RUN FOR IT!"

"Who's narrating this scene anyway?" asked the aide.


"We're too late," I said as I watched the missile draw closer to the White House.

"I told you that we didn't have time for lunch," said Playful1.

"We would have had the time if someone could make up their mind from a simple menu!"

"You did that." said GiGi.

"I'm the hero," I said, "you're not supposed to bring up my mistakes."

GiGi pulled a pair of binoculars from her ample cleavage and looked up at the missile.

"There's something on the missile!"

I took the binoculars from GiGi and looked for myself.

"You could have said 'please,'" said GiGi, "or at least let me get the strap from around my neck."

"Great Caesar's Colostomy Bag!" I exclaimed. "It's Chompy!"

Chompy, my old friend, compadre, and badger was on the missile, forcing open a panel with his claws. He was trying to disarm it.

Suddenly the missile veered off its target, flew into the sky, and exploded in a brilliant flash.

Chompy had been blown to smithereens, and with him the answer to his cliffhanger from the last chapter.

"CHOMPY!" I bellowed.


Wednesday, 8 August 2007

A Little Bit of Stand Up...

Here's Canadian road warrior comedian Derek Edwards and his take on Mad Cow disease...