The tales of the agent - part 8b
The trio were on their way to the nearest Pangaea collective's party palace, a huge death star minus the death part. The agent thought it was a grave misuse. Why have a flying space station the size of a small moon if you are not going to use it to blast entire civilizations to tiny bits? But the Pangaean ARE little odd.
In the mean time the agent busied himself by installing a new module in his software.
"What are you doing?" asked Ginata, the master of disguise. Right now she was in her Jeri Ryan outfit, a snappy brown thing with all the right curves.
"I am installing my TextGenerator mark 2 program. It's time for an upgrade."
"An upgrade?"
"Of my literary skills. Cyper latest story showed me the need to go above simple dialogues with incoherent syntex."
"So how is it going?"
"Well, the installation is taking a long, long time. The program is very buggy."
"Well, most software are."
"No, I mean REAL buggie. It has more mistakes in it's code that the bush administration."
"Bush?"
"President of the Red Necks empire. An irrelevent empire of yahoo's in the westward part of the galaxy."
The installation meter crepped ever toward 100%. Then, it reached 100%.
"rebooting" the agent eyes closed for a second...
The sublte hues of the bridge lights, oh so faint lights, showered him from all sides. In the metallic sphere that was the center of operation for the former USS excalibur stood the powerful trio. Vereily, it was a capable crew. One Cotal, a master of disguise that knows how to dress. One animal who wishes to learn how to dress, and one agent, slightly confused from the recent upgrade.
The Pangaea station was not far now, and the scanners have already showev the rotating grey globe on the view screen, a mere parsac away. It was an outstanding structure, the agent had to admit. Little parks with riverlets and streams could be seen on the surface, and inside - a wealth of goods. Every one of those stations reputedly represented the entire culture - it's people, customs and wealth of information. The station could produce any craft, display any art show and invent any sort of drink. It was the place for any respectable Secret Service member.
The docking procedure was smooth and effiecent. The agent guided the excalibur with sure hands. The huge yawing caverns that streched in front of him was, in fact, the Pangaea'n docks. The agent was genuinly impressed. For useless people they could manage to do something right. But he must not dely. Inside awaited clues to the wereabouts of the last speciman of MM77, the insane species.
But the agent noble quest after the evil MM77 will have to delay. For a sinister plot by the Pangean's is going to shatter the united trio...
chapter 2
In less then an hour the pangean weaponary claimed it's first victim. Koala, the fierce animal, could not be seen anywhere. The agent and Cotal searced the halls and corridors of the vast station that streched to nearly infinity, but for not avail. The station was too big.
With no policing force, there was no one the dual could approach to help them find the missing furry teady-bear. The agent already suspected the truth - that the lure of the pangaean dress shops proved to big a strain for Koala. He was probably in some dress booth, pleasuring a random patron he caught from the street for the meager income that will allow him to buy one of the deliciously beautiful dresses the pangaean weave.
This, the agent decided, calls for drastic measures. While he promised himself he will not call his comarades, still weary from the assault on Starbase 70, he had no choice. He placed the call.
It took three days for Jaws, Hurtly and Wombat to reach the station. The rest would have to be left behind, still nursing their wounds - and no one know where Cypher was, even thought the agent suspected he was not dead yet.
"Took you long enough" muttered the agent as greeting when the three animal warriors arrived at the dock.
"Well, we have to make a detour and buy this sixpack." smiled Hurtly.
"A sixpack? Really? That's so vulgar. I'm surprised at you guys" the agent said, nodding his head. "But then again, you are accusotomed to australian wine so I guess you could have bought a bottle of poo-water and not know the difference."
"That was a Freakazoid quote, wasn't it?" inquired Jaws.
"Ah, and I will miss you scarecrow most of all" the agent smiled at Jaws. Jaws was properly the agent's favorite. He has sharp teeth, you know.
"So, Koala has been lost to the mysteries of cross-dressing, has he?" Inquired wombat.
"I suspect so" the agent replied. "I have not been able to find him yet."
"What about Cotal?"
"Well, she is the misteress of disguise. She has plenty of clothes for herself."
"And you?"
"Surely you jest."
"Well, then. Have you made any tails in the search for MM77?"
"Certainly. In fact, he is here, in this station. In sector brown-4b."
"If you know where he is, why have you not dispatched him?"
"And let you guys miss all the fun? I'm taking too much of the action as it is."
"Lead the way to the brown sector, then."
"heh, poo-water" said hurtly suddently. "I just got it."
"Good for you" muttered the agent as he led the way. "Bloody penguins and their slow operation system."
Chapter 3
The candyman was indeed there. His 77 parts were glowing in all colors, hues of purple, green, blue and brown, constantly in flux.
"I call dibs on the red ones!" yelled hurtley.
"They change color, dofus." mutterd the agent again under his breath. "It says say one paragraph up."
They all eyed the tall candyman warily. It was a tall beast, four meters high. The choclate circles hung in the air, invisible threads keeping the entire strange and vaguley humaniod structure in tact. The candyman has not yet commented on their presence in his giant alcove since Jaws hacks the look with the use of a human hacker. Jaws picked up the hacker somewhere in the lower regions, he said. He tend proceeded to bash the hackers head against the lock repeatdly until it yield. After a while, the lock yielded too.
Still the candyman has not said anything. Finally the agent grew agitated, and just then the candyman said his first words.
"My FAMILY has come! I LOVE you all! You will be my FRIENDS, and we will SING and DANCE and eat many a BANANA."
"He is trying to attack us with capitols" yelled the agent, trying to warn his friends. "Cover your ears!"
"DID SOMEONE SAY CAPITALS?" Boomed the voice of the innkeeper, Sauron.
"Not now, dark lord!"
"WELL, YOU COULD HAVE SAID YOU WERE BUSY." the innkeeper said, sulking. He vanished after that.
Using a feat of dexterity, the agenty pulled his pistols while still covering his ears and shot at the agent topmost candy, what he estimated was his nerve center.
"Ha HA! You can't KILL me by saying little WORDS! My insanity SHIELD will PROTECT me from your evil LOGIC and other stuff!" The candyman looked quite pleased.
"He is bonkers!" muttered wombat. The agent, however, seem quite agitated. He stared at his pistols with amazement. He then proceeded to move his pistols to the high settings, and fired a burst that should have destroyed the entire station, so mad was he in his anger and distraught. But the MM77 insanity shield blocked everything.
"IT DOESN'T WORK!" He screamed at wombat. "IT DOESN'T WORK! WHAT CAN I DO?! RANDOM VIOLENCE DOES NOT WORK!!!!"
"Well, you can try to use your head" said jaws, while still trying to block most of MM77 infernal capital attack.
"NO I CAN'T, YOU MORON! RANDOM VIOLENCE IS ALL I HAVE! IT'S WHAT WE ALL HAVE! HE CAN'T BE STOPPED! NONE OF US ARE INTELLIGENT! THE DAY OF RECKONING HAS COMED!" and he procceeded to sob.
And maybe it would have been the end of all times, but for a tiny animal that decided to show up at the time. Until he came, nothing availed. The candyman proved imprevious to cotal charms and her iron ball. Jaws could not bite him, Wombat could not paw him, and hurtley could not challange him into a fishing contest which is really the only thing a penguin could do properly. The agent sobbed all this time, shocked that simple, random, brutal, unstoppable violence did not work.
But then he came. The Koala. The eater of choclate.
Stories will be written later about the event. It could not be described. The colors as the Koala fought the insanity field, as he ate one more piece of the creature at a time, could be described in words but it will do it no justice. Nothing can truly describe it.
Stories will also be written about Koala shopping spree, about the drengin he pleased in the bathroom until he saved enough to buy the entire chain of Saxs. It was, indeed, very busy few days. But Koala was snappilshly dressed at the attacked, and all the special forces unit stop to gaze at the sight of his spelndor.
"The valvet!" exclaimed Jaws.
"The pearls!" yelled Wombat.
"The feathers!" breathed Cotal.
"The silk!" mouthed the penguin.
"What's that white residue on his chin?" asked the agent.
And so, after a grave battle, the MM77 fell and was consumed. So one little koala from the shire brought the fall of great evil (not to mention capitals), and all was well.
The end.
Or is it?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
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