Note: The following piece has several authors (to all be listed at the end). It is a wedding present to Spoof Editor Mark Lowton on his recent marriage.
Las Vegas - Chapter 1 It was a dark and stormy night. Actually it was just the Flamingo being demolished and imploded. Fortunately my bride and I were in the Cleopatra room, which is located in the stairwell at a Seizure's Palace. We were making love when a small army of Venetians blindly made their way up the stairs to their rooms on the floor above us...
Wearing blinders, they each continued picking their noses, unaware that the whole world was watching. An agent for a New York TV production company had a 'Eureka' moment at the sight.
"Eureka!" he exclaimed. What a great idea for a new series! We will call it the 'Boogerville Trolley' and it will feature blinded Venetians picking boogers for souvenir candies in honor of newlyweds!
"Sorry, boss, we can't do that," chimed in the company lawyer. "The name 'Boogerville Trolley' was copyrighted just last week by a Women's Auxiliary Unit in Columbus, Georgia."
"Pay them off! Pay them off!" screamed the producer. "I want that title!"
He quickly realized, however, that he might have to move his network show to cable, or even the Playboy channel, when he saw the beastiality being practiced between one pair of newlyweds. One was a man with a handlebar mustache and an English accent. The other wore a cowbell around her neck and had the word "Cal's" branded into her side.
Meanwhile back in the Bridle Suite.....
The blushing groom was unwrapping a mysterious-looking wedding present that the bellhop had just delivered to the happy honeymooners.
"Some of the guys on the website must have sent it, darling!" the groom ejaculated with excitement as he held the gift aloft for his radiant new lady-wife to examine. "I wonder what it could be?"
"Well it's not the magnum of the '96 Krug that was on the wedding list. Nor the Harrods Beluga Caviar squeezed from the ovaries of Caspian Sea virgin gastropods. And it sure as hell ain't that smelly black stuff you normally put in our bong at home, Mark."
"Hmmm....Looks like a giant inflatable rubber thinggie, stuffed with something slightly crunchy. I say! You don't think it's illicit contraband those smuggling types are always banging on about? Looks like talcum powder with lumps....Tastes like freeze-dried semen. And blows the top of your head off at parties?"
"Freeze-dried semen Mark? What on earth do you mean?"
"Oh, just something I read about on the internet the other day, sweetheart. Apparently that's how the FBI are taught to train their tastebuds when they first start in Narcotics....
"Are you saying this huge sausage-thinggie is a condom stuffed with cocaine, Mark? The sort that gets swallowed in airport lounges....And then, er...regurgitated! Regurgitated later at Paris Charles de Gaulle, or London Heathrow or...? Or not regurgitated at all!....But. Um, how shall I put it? Something that passes out naturally along with the vindaloo?"
"Umm, gulp!" said Mark as a frisson of shock-horror passed over his entire body. "I really don't think anybody on the website could actually use one of these thinggies as a condom, darling. It's probably from the elephant house at London Zoo, or something. And as for it having been smuggled er..internally.....Well I can't imagine anybody having gastro-intestinal proportions of that dimension. Let alone being able to get it out safely without busting an artery...."
Whilst the honeymooners were contemplating their newfound stash and it's source (and taking Bong Hits for Jesus on the freeze dried elephant semen), another development was taking place 2000 miles away.
Cal Jennings, upset about losing his lover, his sister, and his main source of dairy products in one fell swoop, was getting on a plane at West Virginia's third largest airport. (Okay, it was just a crop duster and he'd have to make connections, but....) The pain and jealousy and rage were too much to bear.
In his suitcase, he carried a cattle prod, a pair of mustache trimmers, his Superman costume, his viagra, and a weed-eater. He had a score to settle with Mark Lowton.
"No one marries my sister without asking me first," he thought to himself. Then he blurted out: "NO ONE MARRIES MY SISTER WITHOUT ASKING ME FIRST! Just cuz he has a vestigial tail and I don't, that Mark Lowton thinks he can steal her away from me. Just you wait and see... he who laugh laugh, laugh laugh."
Chapter 2 - It was still a dark and stormy night as Cal parachuted out of his crop duster flight over Las Vegas, shotgun in hand. "I'm comin' for you Sis, you big fat sweet cow!!" He spotted the hotel and aimed his parachute. As luck woud have it the Venitians were on the roof holding a candlelight satanic ritual, with the producer of their new reality show "Booger Reality" stretched out in the center.
Using his superpowers, Cal detected that a much safer landing spot would be the Scientology Convention happening at the hotel next-door.
Mark slipped into his silk pyjamas and lay longingly on the crisp cotton sheets of the honeymoon bed. He reached for the remote control and sweet music began wafting from the stereo speakers.
A bottle of vintage champagne sat on the bedside table with two crystal glasses at its side, the lights were dim and candles flickered around the room.
Just then the toilet flushed and the bathroom door opened to reveal the silhouette of the obese monster he had married. Cal's sister pulled off her stained Y-fronts as she half ran and half galloped toward the bed.
As she flung herself on the helpless bridegroom her flailing arms sent the champagne and glasses crashing to the floor, striking the remote control and raising the music to a deafening roar.
Unable to move under the crushing weight of his bride, Mark began to gasp for air as she grabbed his genitalia in a vice-like grip and screamed, "Mine, all mine!" ..............
Cal Jennings crashed through the skylight of the ballroom of the Dewey, Cheatem, and Howe casino, where Scientologists were reveling in their celebration of the 75th anniversary of L. Ron Hubbard's potty training.
"Whar's my sister!" he hollered at the conventioners, who were all happily jumping on couches.
Tom Cruise approached, leading his wife on her bejewled and obviously very expensive leash. "Is there something we can help you with, sir? You've just crashed a very exclusive party."
Cal took one look at the people in the group and formed an idea. "My sister's been kidnapped by a british feller with one of them sissy-fied mustaches. I don't know what he plans to do to her, but I hear he's a Psychologist!"
A collective groan went up from the group. John Travolta ran up and whipped out his gun. "I'll shoot him for you. I've even got a pistol in my limo."
"We'll have no guns here!" shouted Cruise.
"We need to think WWLRHD."
Travolta didn't need a gun to fire a question at Cruise;
"Yeah what would L. Ron Hubbard Do of course!" he smiled and so did all the other guests at the party.
Cruise, being an authority on the musings of L. Ron retorted:
"well 75 years ago, he would s**t and think...
50 years ago he would sit and think......
...and then 25 years ago, he became incontinent and would s**t and think again."
"Life goes round and round I must circulate this discovery to all followers... where's those newly weds?"
Cal said "I wanna know that too, I reckon he's with mah sis!"
The thunderous crash of the breaking casino roof startled Cal's sister. She froze, loosened her grip on Mark's swelling wedding tackle and slowly rose from the bed.
Mark drew a long breath. "That was a big fright you gave me dear" he spluttered.
"Well it's sure bigger than anything you got to give" she retorted.
As Mark straightened out his pyjamas and reorganised his testacles, Cal's sister moved over to the window, alerted by the sound of an angry mob. To her horror she saw her brother leading a group of dark suited men, like escapees from the set of Men in Black, with a fat figure in tight white leotards and cowboy boots carrying a gun and another, strange, dwarf-like character pulling Katie Holmes along on a diamond studded leash.
"It looks like my bro's got 'imself a lynch mob" she screamed, "You best hide Mark, go climb inside this 'ere steamer trunk".
Mark did as he was bid and she agilely lifted the trunk, with Mark inside, on top of a wardrobe.
Just then the door of their honeymoon suite burst open ………….
It was Shaun Ferguson, sometimes Spoof writer and professional virgin. In his right hand, he carried a bag with condoms and KY jelly from the local Walgreen's pharmacy. In his left, he held a baseball bat.
"It's not fair! You guys lied to me," he shouted. "Everyone said that I could take a crack at Cal's sister and now you've married her and shut down the website."
"How am I ever going to get laid?"
As Shaun stood in the doorway crying, with Cal's sister lifting a half open trunk, they heard the ding of the elevator doors opening on their floor followed by the sound of a coming mob.
Flashback to six months earlier when Mark and Cal's sister went on their first blind date:
They met at a bowling alley -- the kind where the balls glow in the dark. Despite the four illegitimate children at her side, Cal's sister impressed Mark with her infectious laugh.
"She's got a great outlook on life," he confided to his brother Paul via trans-Atlantic telephone call.
"What does she look like, Mark?" Paul enquired. "Dunno", Mark replied, "it's one of those blind dates so she made me wear blinkers, but I do hear a lot of people commenting about her."
"She set I can get to her full beauty after we go back to her trailer and smoke some weed."
Chapter 3 - Somewhere between the weed and babbling about Cal's Sister's remarkable O.J. Simpson memorabilia collection, there was a "yes I will marry you, now please let go of my testicles." It had seemed like the right thing to do at the time. But now as he lay in a steamer trunk being thrown about like a cotton ball, Mark started to wonder if he might have made a mistake.
When Shaun saw how Cal's sister towered over him, he began to tremble uncontrollably. 'Could this be love?' he thought to himself as she lifted him high in the air by his shirt collar. "Who the HELL are you?" she barked.
Just as Shaun felt warm liquid running down his leg, the Angry Mob lead by O.J Simpson, Tom Cruise and Andre Agassi burst into the room...
"Where in name of all that's holy is that Mark feller?" Cal barked.
"And who is that pretty young kid you are holding up there, you lard-arsed baby snatcher?" Tom Cruise demanded.
Cal's sister dropped Shaun from her ape sized hands and Cruise ran forward to break his fall.
"Excuse me, Katie" said Cruise, "I think this lad needs some fresh air and a cool lemonade. Don't wait up for me."
He helped the dishevelled boy from the room and led him to the foyer of the hotel where his stretch Hummer was waiting with its engine running.
The two climbed into the car which shot off toward Los Angeles.
After an hour or so Shaun was beginning to feel a strange wave of dizziness from the soda Cruise was giving him. "Are you quite sure this isn't alcoholic?" Shaun asked. "Hell no", Cruise replied, "we Scientologists don't believe in alcohol, that's Rohypnol you've been drinking".
The light had already filled the room when Shaun's eyes finally opened. He looked around in a daze. It was gigantic, with acres of windows overlooking the ocean. The terrace doors were slid open and Shaun could see Cruise sitting at a large, wooden table on the deck, wearing a T-shirt, dark glasses and a huge grin, reading Variety.
Cruise looked up. "Come out and get some breakfast", he offered.
Shaun lifted the red and black Ferrari duvet but as he started to get up he realised he was totally naked, except for a diamond studded dog collar with a tag bearing the initials 'LRH'.
"What happened to my clothes?" Shaun asked sheepishly. "Cal's sister tore your shirt last night and you p*ssed your pants, so I am taking you clothes shopping on Rodeo today. Then I am going to introduce you to the guys at the Ministry and arrange for you to have a personality test."
"But why the collar?"
"So you don't, err, get lost, kid".
Cruise walked into his 2,000 square feet dressing room and returned with a shirt bearing the slogan 'TOP GUN - NOW ON DVD' and a pair of worn Wranglers.
"The pants may be a little tight for you Shaun", Cruise said, "But you can just leave the flies open."
"Cook is working up a hearty breakfast for you, and while you're waiting I would like you to slip on these headphones on and listen to 'Route to Infinity' ".
Meanwhile, back in Las Vegas....
By now Mark was struggling for every breath inside the musty steamer trunk and Cal was tearing the room apart looking for him.
"What's this Walgreen bag of condoms and KY doing here?". Cal insisted. "These aint Mark's size - he'd swim in 'em!".
His sister feigned innocence and looked around the room, staring at each of the "Men in Black" in turn and feeling a passion swelling up in her already considerable bosom.
Mark could wait no longer. "Get me out of here!", he shouted .....................
Meanwhile, back in California, Tom Cruise informed Shaun that Richard Gere was on his way over and was bringing the gerbils.
In Las Vegas, John Travolta and the other Scientologists were arguing about Cal's sister. They were trying to figure out if she was one of the godlike beings from another planet that they were supposed to be worshipping (and that you don't find out about until you reach the 57th level of Scientology), a really ugly Arkansas woman, or just some dumb farm animal snuck up to the room by a pervert.
Cal, with his pants around his ankles, was screaming that everyone needed to take their adoring hands off of his sister and quit praying to her, cuz he had a serious case of blue ball, Shaun's condoms, and the KY jelly and he was ready to rock and roll.
Mark tried to scoot lower down into the trunk, hoping that Cal wouldn't see him and that the religious nuts would take their arguement out of the room. He tried to cover himself with a batch of flyers announcing Jenny Bigtit's strip act at Ceasar's Palace, but it was no good.
An anal retentive accountant from Miami saw him and screamed "It's the Psychologist!"
"That ain't no psychologist you anal retentative accountant twit!!" bellowed O.J., "That's the dude who promised to get my memorabilll..my memorobilli..my memorobilllliaaa back! Made me autograph and ship 10,000 footballs to London in advance!! I'm gonn tear you limb from mustache Mark! Put down that damned video camera Cal!!".....
...just then, a badger ran across the room - it appeared to emerge from an orignal Salvador Dali picture......
....but we all know that cheap motel rooms in the American West do not have Salvador Dali originals. They have paintings of dessert landscapes or cowboys and indians.
The badger was actually a large, mutant cockroach. John Travolta took his gun and shot at it.
Just then, Las Vegas resident Moose (or was it Squirrel?....anyway....not the one that lives in Hawaii) ran through the door. "Fluffy! Fluffy! Did someone shoot at my baby? Where's Fluffy?" Moose/Squirrel punched Travolta in the face and screamed, "Take that Vinnie Barbarino!" and ran from the room after the cockroach.
Mark took the distraction of the shooting to climb from the trunk and hide in the shower.
Mark, hiding in the shower, found a book lying on the closed toilet seat (obviously previously used by women!)
Its title was 'The Flight of the Cockroach' by Salvatore Dali and Mr Meaner.
He opened the back page and that's what he read. 'The End.'
Strangely, he glanced at his naked body in the mirror
at his disorganised genitalia and thought to himself "that's 2 ends in sight!" or is it 1 end and 1 dne?
He also grew a bit cold and found a threadpit t-shirt in a moses basket in the corner.
No, really, The End....was really cold, sitting on the tiled shower floor. Mark knew that if he stayed longer, he'd be attached to the fake terra cotta flooring by icesicles hanging from his buttocks and scrotum.
He tried to stand, but his back was sore and bent from his time in the trunk and his exertions with Cal's sister.
As he crawled from the shower stall, a large shadow loomed over him.
"Mark," said the booming voice of Gnarly Eric, "I'm in town for a corrupt bastards convention and decided to bring you and the new Mrs. a bottle of 7-11's finest champagne!" (It was actually Mad Dog 20-20, but to an Alaskan, anything more expensive than Thunderbird or Boone's Farm is the good stuff)
"Where'd all them phony bible thumpin' religious fellers with the WWLRHD?(What Would L. Ron Hubbard Do?) bracelets come from? Want me to swing my hammer of divine agnosticism and clear them all out of here?
Mark weakly nodded and wondered what happened to his bride. He crawled from the bathroom with a Jenny Bigtits flyer still frozen to his backside.
Soon, another person from his life loomed over him. It was his feared and hated instructor from Prep school, the hated Mister Meaner. The teacher with the diabolical laugh looked down at the poor groom and cackled: "Lowton, I heard you were honeymooning in this hotel. I always figured you Woods end up like this! Look those bruises on your package, it looks like you've been spaniking the Monkey again. Doing it with those Jenny Bigtits flyers, I guess."
"That's just a furphy," said Mark. "When did you get in from Woop Woop? Been admiring the white pointers again, I see..." he continued, staring at Meaner's crotch.
"You Pommy bastard!" retorted Meaner. "Quit lookin' at my old fella!"
Meanwhile, back in California, Tom Cruise informed Shaun that Richard Gere was on his way over and was bringing the gerbils.
The phone rang and Tom picked up.
"It's Dick, the freeway traffic is awful, don't start without me".
Chapter 4 Mark is Tied to the Bow of the Raging Queen
"I give! I give!" Blubbered O.J. as Cal's sister sat on his torso.
"Shut your trap you! You ain't goin' nowhere til' you sign this official bill of sale for my memorabilia!
Meanwhile the Venetians Doctors had arrived and were busy circumscribing the men in dark suits. Cal was overseeing this personally, "Aw c'mon doc!! Just whack it off like this, here let me show ya!" "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH! I cut me dang own foreskin!!
Mark took advantage of the disturbance to escape from the room wrapped in a towel. He ran down the hall, but he saw Queen Mudder coming at him with a gun. He turned to run the other way when a bullet ripped away his towel.
"Hold it right there Lowton, you and me has a score to settle! I was on the verge of a million views and your keepin' me from getting there with this Spoof of a marriage of yours! Your coming with me on my boat!
The Queen tucked Mark under one of her gorilla sized limbs and ambled to the elevator. The Queen had never been one for the pretentiousness of deodorant and Mark soon swooned from lack of oxygen. True to her word, when Mark awoke it was to the sound of seagulls in San Francisco Bay. He was tied to the bowsprit of a yacht called The Raging Queen.
Meanwhile back at Tom Cruise's pad, things were getting ugly for Shaun. Liberace's former hairdresser Dan had stopped by to give Tom a trim, when he spied Shaun tied to a post near the pool. "Oh TOMOMMMMM, you didn't tell me you had a new pet, he's soooooo cute!"
"Yeah, but he ain't house broke yet Danny. Do you think you could give him a trim and a few pointers?"....
"Why, sure!" Dan delighted. "Let me just get my zizzorz out of my bag." Searching through his man-purse he called quizzically, "My zizzorz!... Where are my zizzorz?... Has anyone zeen my zizzorz?"
At that moment the 'pool boy' stopped pretending to clean the pool and cut Shaun loose with the pair of scissors he had stolen from Dan's bag. As they quickly escaped Shaun muttered in disbelief, "Thanks! Who are you?"
"My name is Whom-the-Hell-is-Mohit?," replied the heretofore 'pool boy'. "My cousin, Who-the-Hell-is-Mohit?, used to write for The Spoof -- but lately he's been too busy scouting locations for a Bollywood version of the sequel to Bend It Like Beckham. Tentatively they are calling it Golden Balls and the Chamber of Secrets. But I digress... When I heard that you were in trouble I came as fast as I could. Now, hurry, let's get out of here!"
Just then they heard someone shriek, "Fergus!"...
A large stretch psychedelic Volkswagon bus pulled up in front of Shaun and Whom-The-Hell-is-Mohit. The rear window rolled down and Fergus McCarthy, amid shrieks from a throng of go-go dancers in the limo said, "Need a lift boooys?"...
Meanwhile on board the "Raging Queen", the Queen herself was hanging a laptop in front of Mark, who was still tied to the bowsprit. She placed a pencil in Marks mouth. "Okay Editor boy! Edit!!"
"I can't. I can't!" he shrieked
"I've got no more lead in my pencil"
"no, but I bet Marvin has?" asked the qm
"Who's Marvin?" said Mark trying to look innocent...
Twenty-five-hundred miles away in Guilderland, New York...
Warren Redlich, Mark Grimm & Kiefer Sutherland were pursuing a lead on a shipment of surface-to-air missiles sent from Congressman Michael R. McNulty's office marked 'Attn to: Al-Qaeda'.
"These surface-to-air missiles are just another example of wasted taxpayer money!" sounded an exasperated Redlich.
Kiefer: "Warren, we've got to work fast. Based on recent intel we think that Mark Lowton is in danger. What's worse -- we think 'queen mudder' may be involved..."
Redlich: "Where did they say that shipment of Surface to Air was going?
Kiefer: "San Francisco...San Francisco Bay to be exact, we have men in blsck suits heading that way right now! The Queen Mudder is rumoured to have a Yahct there, but if she gets out of the Bay we'll never catch her, she's much to clever.
Redlich: "Yeah and she'll be armed with S and A.
Meanwhile Redlich and Kiefer's fears were being realized, as the Raging Queen beat a starboard tack out of the Bay and aimed south towards the Straights of Magellan. Lowton was now holding a lantern in his mouth to show the way in the early December dusk. "Hold that light steady Mark dear, I'm not sure if this is the Pacific or the Indian, I thought there'd be more signs!! Where are the damned directional signs!"
Apparently CELESTIAL NAVIGATION 101 was a course that 'queen mudder' had not excelled at during Law School. So, instead of heading south they were actually headed north toward Alaska and beyond...
Chapter 5: One Gnarly Pirate!
"You know about my boat?" screamed an enraged Queen.
"A lucky guess deary:)! Is it named The Raging Queen? Is Mark tied to the bowsprit?" asked a writer.
The Raging Queen continued its tack to the north, even though Queen Mudder thought she was safely heading towards Panama. Just then there was a shot over the bow. Or perhaps it was a shell, becuause it took down the main mast.
"Arrrrrrr! Prepared to be bored! I mean prepare to be boarded!!" Shouted Gnarly the Juneau Pirate, "Bend over Queenie! I'm a cumin' fer yaaa!"
"Not unless your a good swimmer!" Said QM arming a missle and aiming it at his boat. She fired it at the trawler, Gnarly and his crew leaped into the sea as the trawler eploded in all directions. "Arrrrr my ass," said QM, "Hows that editing coming Markie, I'm thinkin' about feeding you soon."
"Queen I hate to bring this up, but is that an ice berg ahead? I thought we were headed south?"...
The Queen was obviously drunk, as her ramblings went something like this:
"Iceberg my ass."
These balmy Alaskan waters full of Corrupt Bastards Club floating corpses. Even the baskin' sharks won't touch in case of e-coli. And what's that I see yonder? Another goddam Russian coke sub listing to port. Captain Marko Ramius at the tiller? aka another Marko of our acquaintance? hic...goddam Xmasparty boozefest. Helltopayfor in the morning".
With a final hiccup QM passed out and fell into the Galley, her head landing in two week old cheese souffle that was just starting to rise.
Mark heard the racket and even worse, he could smell the souffle. "Queen? Are you okay? Hey don't leave me hanging here, I'm the editor of the Spoof.Com, I have certain rights!!! Queen Mudder!!!" but his voice echoed out over th waters with no reply.
Meanwhile back in San Francisco the Las Vegas Rat Pack, led by Tom Cruise and O.J. were fighting with Cal and the Venetian doctors on a pier. "No I'm not Jewish! I don't need to be circumscribed," yelled O.J., "Tell them Cruise."
"Oh yeah...absolutely," said Tom, "Scouts honor, his foreskin could be used for a tent."
"Okay Cruise, your on my hit list now bucko!" yelled O.J.
"Okay you two," said Cal standing between the Venetians and Cruise and O.J. whose backs were to the water.
"I'm tired of all this monkeying around. I want that good for nothin' Mark Lowton, or your both gonna spend the night with my sister and the Village People."....
Meanwhile, thirty-thousand-feet above them...
Warren Redlich, Mark Grimm, Kiefer Sutherland and the entire Women's Auxiliary Unit from Columbus, Georgia had commenced a High Altitude - Low Opening (HALO) synchronized freefall from the back of a C-130 Hercules transport plane...
INTERMISSION -- Please take a moment to get up, stretch, visit the snack bar, use the lavatory, etc...
A quick review of the printed program (not included) will show the following 'Players' thus far:
- Mark Lowton
- Cal's sister
- the Venetians
- New York Television Agent/Producer
- the Company Lawyer
- Women's Auxiliary Unit from Columbus, GA
- Cal Jennings
- Tom Cruise
- Katie Holmes
- John Travolta
- Men in Black
- Shaun Ferguson
- Paul Lowton
- O.J. Simpson
- Andre Agassi
- Angry mob
- Cruise's cook
- Richard Gere
- Anal-retentive Miami accountant
- Moose (or Squirrel?)
- Gnarly Erik
- Gnarly Erik's crew
- Mister Meaner
- queen mudder
- "Dan" (Liberace's former hairdresser)
- Warren Redlich
- Mark Grimm
- Kiefer Sutherland
(and more characters may appear)
Please take your seats...
...and now back to the story.....
Warren Redlich, Mark Grimm, Kiefer Sutherland and the entire Women's Auxiliary Unit from Columbus, Georgia had commenced a High Altitude - Low Opening (HALO) synchronized freefall from the back of a C-130 Hercules transport plane...Looking through binoculars (albeit backwards)Kiefere Sutherland spotted something, "Oh wow its a whale, I always wanted to go whale watching Warren, thanks a million."
Warren grabbed the binoculars away from Kiefer, "Why you idiot, you have them backwards, that's no whale, that's O.J. Simpson swimming and being chased by a bunch of...Venetians?"
"Oh your blind!" said Kiefer grabbing the binoculars,"Oh...so it is Venetian Doctors...well, well, well, what the hell is going on there."
"Doctors? How the hell can you tell they're doctors from way up here?" asked Warren.
"Same way you can tell they're Venetians you idiot! Just
each one has little tatoo on their left temple"
"Give me those binoculars!" yelled Kiefer grabbing the binoculars back, "...Hey on that pier nearby, I see Andre Agassi! Damn he's my favorite tennis player of all time, and.. and.. there's Richard Gere and Tom Cruise...holding hands?"...
By that time everybody's altimeters were nearing zero (except, of course, Redlich and Grimm -- who were using second-hand metric devices to conserve taxpayer dollars).
As the rest of the group plunged into the frigid waters at high velocity, Warren and Mark saw what was about to happen. Using their cat-like reflexes and lightning-fast speed, the 'dynamic duo' performed a triple Salchow toe loop & nailed the landing.
Meanwhile, twenty-thousand leagues above them a disgruntled space alien nicknamed "marvin" put down the book he was reading: Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus. Using his superior extraterrestrial brainpower, he was committed to mastering the human art form of being funny. "These Earthlings just don't know funny from diffuse nebulae," he thought to himself.
I shall go down there and teach them how to be funny! he thought quite seriously, never having actually laughed before. Marvin was an Xeniatropiczyxxic from Planet XXX, laughing was not only forbidden on his planet, it could actually kill the average Xen, because they turn into one giant zit and pop.
Meanwhile Warren and whats his name completed their several days long triple sowcow and landed on the pier near Gere. "Hey, this is a private pier," said Gere, "Get out of here, were having a beer!"
"Not until you answer some questions," said Warren, "We want the Queen and we want her now! She has government property."
"Oh you mean those surface to air missles?" asked Cruise. "Did you know one of those had a nuclear device on board? I made a movie once and I learned those things could really hurt if you were nearby when they go boom."
The Queen docked her boat in Ireland in some town full of drunken Irish sailors (that kind of place should be hard to find!). She grabbed Mark and hustled him to the ancestral home of Pope Fergus I (who was currently serving in Vatican City ...and sipping too much sacramental wine).
Once inside, she turned on the computer. To get to the keyboard, she moved aside the bottle of vaseline and box of kleenex.
After booting up, she looked through the favorites files to find link to The Spoof. It was between www.sexymidgets.com and www.tittieheaven.com.
She logged on to the site and screamed at Mark "Approve all my stories so I can get my million points, you horney bastard! You couldn't wait until I made my goal before you had to go inseminate that cow!"
Just then, all of the doors burst open.
Though the front door came Richard Gere and Tom Cruise, looking for the famous McCarthy gerbil cage. Through the kitchen door came Cal Jennings, looking for his sister. Through the back door came Cal's sister, looking for her man and carrying an obviously sated and non-virginic Shaun. Through the bedroom window came Buck E. Filbert (because he likes peeking through bedroom windows in his search for vaginas). Through the chimney came Marvin, looking for someone to like him. Through the bathroom skylight fell Carina and Jenny Bigtits, who had been fighting it out on the roof. Down the stairs rolled the gerbils in their hampster ball.
Richard Gere jumped for the gerbils. Mark jumped for joy. Buck jumped for the porn on the computer. Cal jumped his sister. Shaun just jumped out of the way.
...And they all lived happily and insanely everafter.
Volume II Coming to this WEBSITE in 2008!!!!
Mark Lowton in "The Divorcee"
Cal Jennings in " I shot Mark Lowton and I Loved IT!"
Cal's Sister in "My sweet virgin Shaun"
Richar Gere in "My sweet Tom Cruise"
O.J. Simpson in "I have no money, no memorabilia, I think I'll go back to football."
.... And much, much, much more with sick Venetians and men in black suits!!!!
Written By (in a collaborative effort): Queen Mudder, Jean Le Fete, Gnarly Eric, SpaceElevator, Jalapenoman, Shaun Ferguson, In Seine, Mister Meaner, and anyone else I forgot to mention (but can edit in).