Post by redsycorax on May 1, 2022 23:58:52 GMT
The Freedom Brigade has to face its most farcical...oops, no... fearsome menace yet. No, I didn't mean cancellation. Ahem. The night sky is full of stars. For eons, humans have gazed up at its celestial beauty, taking comfort in its peaceful solitude and expanse. All the while, though, there has been another sort of galaxy altogether. lurking amidst the stars and planets ! It is a place of unequalled terrors! Discover the zombie worlds that circle its corpse star, in a particularly malignant corner of our galaxy, like the planet Foetor! Foetor is one of three dead planets stumbling through the perverted magnetic fields of their corpse star, Carcass, which is itself the collapsed core of an exploded star! But despite its death, this uncanny relict rotates maniacally through space, sending out twin beacons of radiation that could incinerate any starship unwary enough to venture too close! Even if it were possible to visit the surface of Foetor, as well as its fellow zombie worlds Canker and Taint, the radiation from its corpse star Carcass would create sickly crepuscular aurorae to celebrate your certain demise! In fact, nothing lives on its surface, except... Ahhhh! What is it?! It shouldn't be alive!!!
++
FOETOR:
For yes, regrettably, there was something lurking on its surface, given that extremly kitsch opening sequence, for which I profoundly apologise. That paragraph got lodged in my word processor and it was the only way I could get rid of it. Anyhow, on the dead planet's surface existed an impossibly wizened and decrepit figure, namely William S. Burrows, an extremely boring author exiled to these planets because they were the only ones who would accept them. Unfortunately, Burrows provided incessant torment to neighbouring solar systems, broadcasting his truly ghastly and warped novels to them, such as the Clothed Teatime, Clunky, Naked Singularity Bares All, and Vile Girls. Traumatised by the horrifically bad content, rating three thousand Perrirhodans on the Drek-Skiffy Scale, the revolted planetary systems petitioned the Galactic Federation to extract Burrows from Foetor and send him back where he came from. Unfortunately, that meant Earth-55.
[Noon, 02/05/2022]
VENUS?!:
Already, Burrow's dire effects on narrative quality were making themselves felt on the surrounding story. How else can one explain a bizarre horde of gigantic gesticulating chess piece-shaped robots, surrounded for some reason by bipedal starfish with large eyes located in their midriffs and with the planet Saturn on a very unconvincing and totally cloudless backdrop and which had something to do with William S. Burrows plans for world domination:
"I was travelling with the Indecipherable Kid on the starship Vitamin. Held up in the cyrogenic tubes, we slept for a million years amid violet mist. We smelt the surrounding odour from the nearby world. The whole structure buckled and ...yes?"
"Excuse me, 'the giant King chess piece robot indignantly gesticulated, "get lost! We got here first and have a highly pretentious message to impart."
Burrows frowned: "Shouldn't that be portentous?"
"Not in this story category and with your average literary quality, it isn't."
"I'll be back with my fiendish horde of supervillains, the Nonsense Mob!"
"Do that and stop getting in our way. Now, where were we? Ah yes...people of Earth! Vulgar, stupid Terrans, you will regret calling in the ancient, eldritch deities from Beyond Clark Ashton-Smerf, which doesn't mean deities of vulgarity and stupidity. Allow me to introduce myself, the deity Mrs Edith Nyarlathotep who has held a cool spot here on Venus for the last three hundred thousand years. And how long could you hold it for? Probably thirty seconds. My name must be paid for, given copyright requirements and you haven't paid for it."
The Nonsense Mob. Sharon the Brisket. Purple Mavis. Iron Truss. The Chartreuse Artist. Johnny Bad Note. Sandstone Bob. Fizzy the Shrub. Hamburger Natalie. Phillip the Sting. The Subscriptual Kid. The Indigo Diplodicus. Mr and Mrs Nuclear, also known as Amyl Nitrate and Potassium Chloride, also known as the Unutterable Spirit, thought to be the leader of the Mob.
FREEDOM BRIGADE SATELLITE:
"In all my time as a metahuman, I have never seen such total depravity and incoherence on any planet. We must subdue these creatures and William S.Burrows, otherwise our entire world will be consumed by total lack of sequential story logic and consistent characterisation." Mr Might said in a stentorian tone to his companions.
"Rather like a Bob Haney story, you mean?"
"Yes. We think William S. Burrows is infected with Haney Syndrome and is incurable. Unless he's caught and quarantined, our whole world will descend into a disorganised shambles, shunned by the civilised multiverse."
"Aren't we, already?" Bat Woman queried.
"Look, who's delivering this stern, assertive establishing paragraph?" Mr Might scolded her.
"How can William S. Burrows possibly be as old as he looks?" Lightpower asked.
"It's all that sheer narrative absurdity and lack of continuity. And most of it is endless repetition. The Secret Department of Investigation believes that its cumulative effects have embalmed him. Moreover, we do have a warning to the rest of you. Under no circumstances, allow Burrows to read any of his miserable excuse for fiction at you. He will get indignant for no reason whatsoever and start rabbiting on about recreational narcotics for the next two hours." Mr Might handed out earphones.
"Oh, Vicky. Are we doomed to be forever immolated within a bad parody of a Grant Morrison Doom Patrol plot?" Deborah Princess, the Enormous Amazon known as Princess Power, asked Bat Woman.
"I know. It isn't good, Debbie. Uh oh. Here comes a Burrows broadcast and he's going to go on and on and on about apomorphine, yage or ahuyasca. Earphone shields on?"
"I walked down to the corner store, pulled out a pistol and robbed it of all of its prescription drugs and found that there was a pleasant embalming effect. Apomorphine heroin yage ayahuasca Apomorphine heroin yage ayahuasca Apomorphine heroin yage ayahuasca Apomorphine heroin yage ayahuasca Apomorphine heroin yage ayahuasca Apomorphine heroin yage ayahuasca Apomorphine heroin yage ayahuasca and so on interminably for the next thirty three hours."
Mr Might alone was unaffected:
"Burrows! It's time you succumbed to entropy and the inexorable processes of decay."
"My, what tight mannish loins you have, Mister Might."
"Keep my loins out of this. Look, I'm not sure how you ended up on Foetor in the first place, but why can't you go back there?"
"All right, you hetero fink. Listen, throw in Captain Swift and Lightpower and I'll abandon the planet."
"No way! Dirk and I are monotonous, albeit not with one another and we're not even remotely interested in becoming objects of Burrows lurid fantasies."
"Ha ha ha ha! Did you forget my henchpeople, the Nonsense Mob? At them, my servile subordinates!"
Nothing happened for the next five minutes, while Burrows mumbled about Apomorphine heroin yage ayahuasca again during that entire interval.
The Eye decided to take action to break the awkward plot hole caused by Burrows' unreliable erstwhile employees and blasted Burrows back to Foetor, also taking the opportunity to envelop him within a time loop. However, Burrows was so repetitious and chronologically overendowed that he didn't notice and kept on not noticing. And thus, Earth and the surrounding universe were spared from the unwanted second advent of a truly wretched author. Eventually, long after the sun had burnt out and even the last red dwarves had guttered into oblivion, Burrows was finally released from the time loop during the course of the Degenerate Era of the universe's history, where he was very much at home and 'lived' happily ever after in a cosmos that reflected his own moribund and decrepit status.
[1.30 PM, 04.05.2022: Concluded]
THE END
++
FOETOR:
For yes, regrettably, there was something lurking on its surface, given that extremly kitsch opening sequence, for which I profoundly apologise. That paragraph got lodged in my word processor and it was the only way I could get rid of it. Anyhow, on the dead planet's surface existed an impossibly wizened and decrepit figure, namely William S. Burrows, an extremely boring author exiled to these planets because they were the only ones who would accept them. Unfortunately, Burrows provided incessant torment to neighbouring solar systems, broadcasting his truly ghastly and warped novels to them, such as the Clothed Teatime, Clunky, Naked Singularity Bares All, and Vile Girls. Traumatised by the horrifically bad content, rating three thousand Perrirhodans on the Drek-Skiffy Scale, the revolted planetary systems petitioned the Galactic Federation to extract Burrows from Foetor and send him back where he came from. Unfortunately, that meant Earth-55.
[Noon, 02/05/2022]
VENUS?!:
Already, Burrow's dire effects on narrative quality were making themselves felt on the surrounding story. How else can one explain a bizarre horde of gigantic gesticulating chess piece-shaped robots, surrounded for some reason by bipedal starfish with large eyes located in their midriffs and with the planet Saturn on a very unconvincing and totally cloudless backdrop and which had something to do with William S. Burrows plans for world domination:
"I was travelling with the Indecipherable Kid on the starship Vitamin. Held up in the cyrogenic tubes, we slept for a million years amid violet mist. We smelt the surrounding odour from the nearby world. The whole structure buckled and ...yes?"
"Excuse me, 'the giant King chess piece robot indignantly gesticulated, "get lost! We got here first and have a highly pretentious message to impart."
Burrows frowned: "Shouldn't that be portentous?"
"Not in this story category and with your average literary quality, it isn't."
"I'll be back with my fiendish horde of supervillains, the Nonsense Mob!"
"Do that and stop getting in our way. Now, where were we? Ah yes...people of Earth! Vulgar, stupid Terrans, you will regret calling in the ancient, eldritch deities from Beyond Clark Ashton-Smerf, which doesn't mean deities of vulgarity and stupidity. Allow me to introduce myself, the deity Mrs Edith Nyarlathotep who has held a cool spot here on Venus for the last three hundred thousand years. And how long could you hold it for? Probably thirty seconds. My name must be paid for, given copyright requirements and you haven't paid for it."
The Nonsense Mob. Sharon the Brisket. Purple Mavis. Iron Truss. The Chartreuse Artist. Johnny Bad Note. Sandstone Bob. Fizzy the Shrub. Hamburger Natalie. Phillip the Sting. The Subscriptual Kid. The Indigo Diplodicus. Mr and Mrs Nuclear, also known as Amyl Nitrate and Potassium Chloride, also known as the Unutterable Spirit, thought to be the leader of the Mob.
FREEDOM BRIGADE SATELLITE:
"In all my time as a metahuman, I have never seen such total depravity and incoherence on any planet. We must subdue these creatures and William S.Burrows, otherwise our entire world will be consumed by total lack of sequential story logic and consistent characterisation." Mr Might said in a stentorian tone to his companions.
"Rather like a Bob Haney story, you mean?"
"Yes. We think William S. Burrows is infected with Haney Syndrome and is incurable. Unless he's caught and quarantined, our whole world will descend into a disorganised shambles, shunned by the civilised multiverse."
"Aren't we, already?" Bat Woman queried.
"Look, who's delivering this stern, assertive establishing paragraph?" Mr Might scolded her.
"How can William S. Burrows possibly be as old as he looks?" Lightpower asked.
"It's all that sheer narrative absurdity and lack of continuity. And most of it is endless repetition. The Secret Department of Investigation believes that its cumulative effects have embalmed him. Moreover, we do have a warning to the rest of you. Under no circumstances, allow Burrows to read any of his miserable excuse for fiction at you. He will get indignant for no reason whatsoever and start rabbiting on about recreational narcotics for the next two hours." Mr Might handed out earphones.
"Oh, Vicky. Are we doomed to be forever immolated within a bad parody of a Grant Morrison Doom Patrol plot?" Deborah Princess, the Enormous Amazon known as Princess Power, asked Bat Woman.
"I know. It isn't good, Debbie. Uh oh. Here comes a Burrows broadcast and he's going to go on and on and on about apomorphine, yage or ahuyasca. Earphone shields on?"
"I walked down to the corner store, pulled out a pistol and robbed it of all of its prescription drugs and found that there was a pleasant embalming effect. Apomorphine heroin yage ayahuasca Apomorphine heroin yage ayahuasca Apomorphine heroin yage ayahuasca Apomorphine heroin yage ayahuasca Apomorphine heroin yage ayahuasca Apomorphine heroin yage ayahuasca Apomorphine heroin yage ayahuasca and so on interminably for the next thirty three hours."
Mr Might alone was unaffected:
"Burrows! It's time you succumbed to entropy and the inexorable processes of decay."
"My, what tight mannish loins you have, Mister Might."
"Keep my loins out of this. Look, I'm not sure how you ended up on Foetor in the first place, but why can't you go back there?"
"All right, you hetero fink. Listen, throw in Captain Swift and Lightpower and I'll abandon the planet."
"No way! Dirk and I are monotonous, albeit not with one another and we're not even remotely interested in becoming objects of Burrows lurid fantasies."
"Ha ha ha ha! Did you forget my henchpeople, the Nonsense Mob? At them, my servile subordinates!"
Nothing happened for the next five minutes, while Burrows mumbled about Apomorphine heroin yage ayahuasca again during that entire interval.
The Eye decided to take action to break the awkward plot hole caused by Burrows' unreliable erstwhile employees and blasted Burrows back to Foetor, also taking the opportunity to envelop him within a time loop. However, Burrows was so repetitious and chronologically overendowed that he didn't notice and kept on not noticing. And thus, Earth and the surrounding universe were spared from the unwanted second advent of a truly wretched author. Eventually, long after the sun had burnt out and even the last red dwarves had guttered into oblivion, Burrows was finally released from the time loop during the course of the Degenerate Era of the universe's history, where he was very much at home and 'lived' happily ever after in a cosmos that reflected his own moribund and decrepit status.
[1.30 PM, 04.05.2022: Concluded]
THE END