DQN Short Novel (Part 38)
Wherein the author develops dissociative identity disorder and
Penelope Dead to Rights messes with reality.
This chapter contains 18 posts, 1336 words and 7704 characters. Would've been better if it had 1337 words, wouldn't it? Ah well.
Chapter Genghis: A Sweet End to a Bitter Non Sequitur
"Your insolence will be the end of your life, fool!" said Patriarch druid McPatriarch
"Stop talking like a villain cliche you gobferbrains!" said a returning Smoopy with a handful of skulls. "We can't let this silly nonsense get in the way of progress. All we need to do is make these skulls so scary it becomes October 31st."
"Man, FUCK druids. I don't wanna work with them. I wanna killemall instead." huffed a pouting Druggdeler.
"Think of the cats!" cried No Longer An Accomplis before suddenly bloating to gigantic proportions, splattering Smoopy all over the druids and sending Druggdeler flying across the world. His trip ended when he landed in a pool of jello. However, he suffered brain damage from the force of the impact, and lost his memory as well as the ability to speak in any language other than gonorrhese. On the plus side, the destruction of that horrible gelatinous mass known as Smoopy finally ended the horror of Smoopy-oriented programming, finally saving all the cats once and for all.
The druids cast some magic druid spells to animate Smoopy's goopy parts. The parts crawled back together, reformed and retrieved Druggdeler from the pool. He took Druggdeler back to Science Chief General Grote Scone for examination. All the while, No Longer An Accomplis was holding a feast with the druids.
"I'll be done in a minute" said Science Chief General Grote Scone.
He shot tri-colored lasers in Druggdeler's brain fixing the stuff in it.
"Whu-whu? Where am I? Are the druids dead?" questioned Druggdeler.
"No Druggdeler, you are the druids," said Science Chief General Grote Scone.
Druggdeler flipped the fuck out. The fuck, which had by now developed full blown paranoid schizophrenia, once again flipped gracelessly through the sky, like a three winged pterodactyl on LSD. Eventually, it landed in the very same jello filled pool that our beloved
Penelope Cosecant Dead to Rights was standing in front of, waiting for a clue to fall conveniently into her his lap and/or pool.
The fuck began to speak.
"ELITIST MOUNTAINTOP; Andrew ID OF RELEASING's sacred PARTICLE PORTAL. Dealing with GAMES OF VIDEO has CONSUME our SACRED SMOOPY."
Rights' razor sharp intellect cut through this indecipherable babble, understanding intuitively that
she he had to get to the nearby mountaintop and find the druids, for that was where her nemesis Druggdeler was hiding. She he hopped into his private jet and set course for the mountaintop, where he would arrive some time around >>272.
Meanwhile, atop the aforementioned mountaintop, shit. Literally just huge piles of shit, all over the place. A veritable mountain of feces on top of the mountain. Goscone turned back and trotted away from Mount Shit, disgusted by the shit.
A shit avalanche chased Goscone down the mountain. Torrents of shit barreled down the mountain at amazing speeds. Goscone, however, moved even faster. Goscone caught a hang glider from a hang glider tree partway through the mountain and glided out of there. The shit couldn't find any hang gliders so it just kept on going down. The shit tore through a small town. A house with a pool of jello was destroyed by the shit and the pool filled with shit. Goscone crashed into a jet, blowing it up. The pilot, Dead to Rights, was ripped to shreds and landed in the ever growing lake of shit below. Goscone, falling into the shit lake, was saying his final prayers. All of a sudden Pterodactyls druid McPterodactyl swooped in and saved Goscone.
Penelope wept for her beloved alter ego's cruel fate from the safety of the pterodactyl whose back she was on. She wasn't entirely sure how she came to be on the back of this pterodactyl rather than in that jet, in fact she suspected that she was just daydreaming and the jet had not in fact exploded. She considered the evidence:
- Jets tend to fly at much higher altitudes than hang gliders.
- Hang gliders don't tend to destroy jets in collisions, in fact the opposite is more likely true.
- Pterodactyls have been extinct for several million years now.
- Goscone died at the end of the last thread.
- Razorback hogs, living or otherwise, do not have opposable limbs, and hence would have great difficulty operating hang gliders.
Just as she came to the conclusion that she was simply being silly and all that probably didn't actually happen, her private jet alighted gently upon the mountaintop, which was noticeably devoid of faeces. It was not, however, devoid of Druggdelers, of which there was one specimen staring straight at her.
Penelope got out her
Goscone and the pterodactyl landed on an alien head shaped platform.
"We are at the scroll scanning hub. I need your cloven hooves to open the scroll room. It's activated by hog feet." said Pterodactyl druid McPterodactyl.
"You saved me only for your own gain? Why should I help you?"
"You didn't think I saved you only out of selflessness, did you? I'm a druid. We run on ulterior motives. If you help me get the ancient druid scrolls I'll give you the power to supplant the Smoopy and druid naming conventions with your own Goscone version. Imagine it. 'Pterodactyled Goscone pterodactyl.' No more plurals, no more Mcs, only past tense!"
"Here's a better idea," Goscone said, "I'll take those ancient druid scrolls for myself and end all of this nonsense!"
Goscone charged and rammed the pterodactyl off the platform, then rapidly placed his hooves on the hoof scanner. He dashed inside the scroll room. Pterodactyl druid McPterodactyl regained his balance in mid-air and flew up, but the scroll room doors shut just before he could make it in, causing him to comically slam into the doors.
"Dagnabbit druid McDagnabbit!" he exclaimed.
In the scroll room, Goscone realized he had no idea what to do with the scrolls when he got them.
"I'll just play it cool and pretend I have some kinda idea what these scrolls are for." thought the hog.
Meanwhile, the scrolls had no idea what to do with Goscone.
"We'll just play it cool and pretend we have some kinda idea what this hog is for," thought the scrolls.
An awkward minute or two passed with the two parties staring at each other.
"This story is boring!" exclaimed Penelope. Sometimes, her own imagination disappointed her. To make things more interesting, she imagined up a swarm of dinosaurs and a swarm of giant beetles on top of the mountain and had them do imaginary battle.
General George S. Pattonosaurus looked out over the battlefield. His troops were fighting valiantly, but the beetles had dug their trenches deep, and they weren't coming up out of them. In fact, Pattonosaurus wondered whether the beetles had maybe dug too deep and not brought any ladders to get out. He sent a scoutiraptor over to check it out.
The tension between the scrolls and Goscone was rising. It was like the first date between middle schoolers. Goscone eventually made a move and took the scrolls. He attempted to read them, but they were in Language druid McLanguage.
"What a load of shit this is"
"Hey, buddy, you're a load of shit" retorted the scrolls
"Well I got half a mind to tear you all up and throw you in the fire!"
"You wouldn't dare! You don't have the BALLS to do it!"
That comment sent Goscone off the edge as he only had one testicle. In a fit of rage he tore up every scroll and set fire to the pile of paper pieces with a torch.
It was in that moment that the author realized that he had developed two entirely separate personalities, who were taking turns writing, and that one personality was attempting to ignore everything that the other wrote. He promptly checked himself into a mental institution, leaving the publishers to make the difficult decision of who to appoint as the new new author of the DQN Short Novel. Penelope was fired for unknown reasons.