Post by redsycorax on Apr 29, 2024 2:30:09 GMT
Yes, I'm afraid it's Earth-55 again, but what kooky and bizarre adventures do the Freedom Brigade have in store this time? Come with us now to the land time forgot because he really tied one on the night before and forgot all about this sorry episode in which our heroes encounter...
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SCONEVILLE:
A small girl was busy skipping on a street, but intoning some quite unholy comments in the process:
I am the progeny of the dread Satan
I can defy spatiotemporal standardisation
I will destroy everything in creation
Watch my malevolence so clear set
I'm Satanette!!!
"Janet, dear, time for milk and cookies!"
"Golly gosh gee kerwillickers, Mom! Will we visit the dinosaur exhibit in the afternoon?"
"Why yes, dear. Are you all excited about it?"
"Oh yes, Mommy!" Because I intend to reverse time and cause hordes of bloodthirsty ravening gigantic tyrannosaurs to rampage down city streets, slaying all in their path!!! Nyahahahaha! Ha!
But Mommy had no idea that little Janet, with her blonde hair in curls and her chubby infantlike face, was actually the incarnation of the devil's daughter. Never mind the fact that she'd conceived her offspring on the June 6, 1966 at precisely 6.06 pm, and that little Janet had stopped ageing when she celebrated her sixth birthday. I mean, come on, it's not rocket thaumaturgy, is it? Surely the facts that family pets kept going missing, her playmates had strange horn-shaped protrusions on their heads and the fact that she sometimes sang hymns and bible verses backward should have tipped this family off? But no, apparently not.
HICKENBACKER, 1943:
"Wir werden es schaffen!
Geben sie uns die chance,
wir nutzen sie!
Wir werden das Tausendyahr
Reich wahr werden lassen!
Und wir werden es
auf Seine art tun, ja,
auf Seine art tun,
Triumph des Willens
wird wahr,
fur mich und dich!"
"We're going to do it!
Give us a chance,
we'll take it!
We'll make the Thousand
Year Empire come true!
And we'll do it his way,
yes, his way,
Triumph of the Will
come true,
for me and you!"
It should thus come as no surprise to see two single female Double Cross agents, Liselotte Doberman and Sieglinde Feuchwanger, standing to attention by a imposing but quite anachronistic radio-telescope, but then this is Earth-55, which means that no-one really noticed. And, incongruously, a fearful studio audience being forced to watch the duet live, with incongruous laugh tracks sounding every time they spoke. There were armed guards at the studio entrances, so they really had no choice. And of course, it's not really a radio-telescope, but something connived to be something quite ominous. Oh look, there's Adenoid Hynkel, the sinister Dictator of Double-Cross Upper Slobovia. Yes, you just knew he was mixed up in this plot somehow, didn't you?
"Ach, meine two analogues to Yankee seventies sitcom characters set in zer fifties! Zoon ve shall fire up zee temporo-spatial power cannon behind uzz and mine most diabolicalal plans vill be fruity!"
"Excuse me, Mr Hynkel, sir? Will we be promoted?"
"Ach, Siegelinde, didn't you learnt anysing from der expulsion of Der Schquigglemann to Russkian Holiday Camp Siberia 33 ven it vos discovered zat he was secretly a mime all zer time?"
Siegelinde quaked: "No, no, Mr Hynkel. Lennart Schquigglemann was a fowl and prawn of the International Hand Laundry Mime And Morris Dancing Conspiracy to Destroy European Civilisation! I'm a loyal Double Crosser! Really I am!" Sieglinde quaked in terror as the laugh track responded.
"Ahem. Boss, d'you really think that this trans-temporal doohickey is gonna help Upper Slobovia win the war?" Liselotte asked, at which another laugh track activated for no good reason.
"I haff made a deal wiff zer Teufel. Or to be more precise, his blue-eyed blonde little fraulein wiff zer curls und ringlets, Satanette! All ve do ist to channel zer energy from here to zer far future year off 2024 AD, und..."
And suddenly, a bright purple ray stabbed forth from the dish of the anachronistic device, mercifully truncating this laboured attempt to transpose a certain seventies US sitcom set in the fifties with WW2/Global War B. About time too. Did we really have to have those excruciatingly bad theme tune parody lyrics at the start of this segue, for that matter?
SCONEVILLE AGAIN:
"La la la la la la la!" Janet/Satanette exclaimed as she girlishly skipped down the lane toward the Sconeville Muncipal Museum, with everyone inexplicably ignoring the plethora of plane crashes, motor vehicle accidents, demonic possession, crazed serial killers running amok, and other everyday phenomena in the rustic midwestern town. Dressed in a tailored suit and pillbox hat, her mother looked on fondly as she applied lipstick, eyeliner and other accoutrements of fifties domesticity. Quickly checking that no-one was looking, she also downed a large martini bottle. And then, belatedly but necessarily given who this series is supposed to be about, several members of the Freedom Brigade intrepidly popped into sight as their teleporter deposited them at the site of the upheavals:
"Great satellites of Neon!!! My old ex-girlfriend, Louisa Louche! Are you behind this awful scheme?" Mr Might gasped.
"Oh poo, Mighty! You're just put out because I decided I wasn't a xenophiliac pervert after all and married... hey wait a minute, I'm sure I married someone."
Ms Might looked askance at the perfectly turned out, immaculately dressed and glassy eyed Louisa Louche and smelt a deceased rodent: "Gag me with a spoon, Bar-Bel! What's wrong with this town? It's so whitebread they probably never heard of Elvis Presley!"
"Ah! It burns! It burns!" Janet/Satanette shrieked, in response to the inadvertent invocation of a semi-divine personage (as Elvis is, on Earth-55).
"Hang on. Did that little girl's dialogue just turn red?" Bat Woman queried.
"You leave Janet alone! She's just a wholesome, innocent small child, the offspring of my love affair with... now why can't I remember?"
"Satellites of Neon! Louisa, you've imbibed gallons of martinis! No wonder those gherkins pickle in your vicinity!"
The Eye was busy consulting Demonology for Metasapients:
"I'm afraid you may need to steel yourself, Clint. There's a reason that Louisa can't remember what happened, why she's suddenly reverted to her late twenties, and why she's knocking back all that booze in order to blot out the dreadful circumstances of her daughter's misconception. You see... Louisa was impregnated by the devil, and gave birth to his offspring. Ie. That small blonde child around whom natural disasters and havoc seem to interminably twirl. Isn't that right, Janet?"
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" screamed Louisa Louche, before she collapsed to the ground in a convenient swoon.
"All right, yes, Freedom Brigade, curse you!! My demonic plan to subdue Earth-55 of this period of history stands revealed in all its goriness. All I wanted to do was unleash hordes of ravening dinosaurs on this miserable planet to devour much of its population and overthrow humanity. Is that too much to ask? Just one city or two, totally devastated? Obliterated wholesale? Pretty please?"
Fortunately, the entreaties of the small girl who was actually the offspring of the Prince of Lies Himself suddenly ceased as a gnarled gigantic red hand tore through the fabric of space and time and abruptly grabbed the child by her hand:
"That was very naughty of you, Satanette."
"Oh come on, Daddy! All I did was incarnate myself unnaturally in a mortal woman's womb and threaten to unleash a horde of ravenous saurians in this period of history!"
But all to no avail, as the tiny wailing entity was pulled back to Hades to join her doting dad. As for the dinosaurs, well, yes, there was a convenient chronosynclastic infundabulum and they ended up in Global War B, much to the joy of Adenoid Hynkel, who was never particularly worried about temporal accuracy and historical orthodoxy in the first place. Unfortunately, the ravenous saurians ate Liselotte and Sieglinde before the duo could perpetrate a dire travesty of a certain seventies sitcom set in the fifties. As for Louisa Louche, she returned to embittered, thwarted fixation on Mr Might.
THE END [10.10 AM, APRIL 30, 2024]
+++
SCONEVILLE:
A small girl was busy skipping on a street, but intoning some quite unholy comments in the process:
I am the progeny of the dread Satan
I can defy spatiotemporal standardisation
I will destroy everything in creation
Watch my malevolence so clear set
I'm Satanette!!!
"Janet, dear, time for milk and cookies!"
"Golly gosh gee kerwillickers, Mom! Will we visit the dinosaur exhibit in the afternoon?"
"Why yes, dear. Are you all excited about it?"
"Oh yes, Mommy!" Because I intend to reverse time and cause hordes of bloodthirsty ravening gigantic tyrannosaurs to rampage down city streets, slaying all in their path!!! Nyahahahaha! Ha!
But Mommy had no idea that little Janet, with her blonde hair in curls and her chubby infantlike face, was actually the incarnation of the devil's daughter. Never mind the fact that she'd conceived her offspring on the June 6, 1966 at precisely 6.06 pm, and that little Janet had stopped ageing when she celebrated her sixth birthday. I mean, come on, it's not rocket thaumaturgy, is it? Surely the facts that family pets kept going missing, her playmates had strange horn-shaped protrusions on their heads and the fact that she sometimes sang hymns and bible verses backward should have tipped this family off? But no, apparently not.
HICKENBACKER, 1943:
"Wir werden es schaffen!
Geben sie uns die chance,
wir nutzen sie!
Wir werden das Tausendyahr
Reich wahr werden lassen!
Und wir werden es
auf Seine art tun, ja,
auf Seine art tun,
Triumph des Willens
wird wahr,
fur mich und dich!"
"We're going to do it!
Give us a chance,
we'll take it!
We'll make the Thousand
Year Empire come true!
And we'll do it his way,
yes, his way,
Triumph of the Will
come true,
for me and you!"
It should thus come as no surprise to see two single female Double Cross agents, Liselotte Doberman and Sieglinde Feuchwanger, standing to attention by a imposing but quite anachronistic radio-telescope, but then this is Earth-55, which means that no-one really noticed. And, incongruously, a fearful studio audience being forced to watch the duet live, with incongruous laugh tracks sounding every time they spoke. There were armed guards at the studio entrances, so they really had no choice. And of course, it's not really a radio-telescope, but something connived to be something quite ominous. Oh look, there's Adenoid Hynkel, the sinister Dictator of Double-Cross Upper Slobovia. Yes, you just knew he was mixed up in this plot somehow, didn't you?
"Ach, meine two analogues to Yankee seventies sitcom characters set in zer fifties! Zoon ve shall fire up zee temporo-spatial power cannon behind uzz and mine most diabolicalal plans vill be fruity!"
"Excuse me, Mr Hynkel, sir? Will we be promoted?"
"Ach, Siegelinde, didn't you learnt anysing from der expulsion of Der Schquigglemann to Russkian Holiday Camp Siberia 33 ven it vos discovered zat he was secretly a mime all zer time?"
Siegelinde quaked: "No, no, Mr Hynkel. Lennart Schquigglemann was a fowl and prawn of the International Hand Laundry Mime And Morris Dancing Conspiracy to Destroy European Civilisation! I'm a loyal Double Crosser! Really I am!" Sieglinde quaked in terror as the laugh track responded.
"Ahem. Boss, d'you really think that this trans-temporal doohickey is gonna help Upper Slobovia win the war?" Liselotte asked, at which another laugh track activated for no good reason.
"I haff made a deal wiff zer Teufel. Or to be more precise, his blue-eyed blonde little fraulein wiff zer curls und ringlets, Satanette! All ve do ist to channel zer energy from here to zer far future year off 2024 AD, und..."
And suddenly, a bright purple ray stabbed forth from the dish of the anachronistic device, mercifully truncating this laboured attempt to transpose a certain seventies US sitcom set in the fifties with WW2/Global War B. About time too. Did we really have to have those excruciatingly bad theme tune parody lyrics at the start of this segue, for that matter?
SCONEVILLE AGAIN:
"La la la la la la la!" Janet/Satanette exclaimed as she girlishly skipped down the lane toward the Sconeville Muncipal Museum, with everyone inexplicably ignoring the plethora of plane crashes, motor vehicle accidents, demonic possession, crazed serial killers running amok, and other everyday phenomena in the rustic midwestern town. Dressed in a tailored suit and pillbox hat, her mother looked on fondly as she applied lipstick, eyeliner and other accoutrements of fifties domesticity. Quickly checking that no-one was looking, she also downed a large martini bottle. And then, belatedly but necessarily given who this series is supposed to be about, several members of the Freedom Brigade intrepidly popped into sight as their teleporter deposited them at the site of the upheavals:
"Great satellites of Neon!!! My old ex-girlfriend, Louisa Louche! Are you behind this awful scheme?" Mr Might gasped.
"Oh poo, Mighty! You're just put out because I decided I wasn't a xenophiliac pervert after all and married... hey wait a minute, I'm sure I married someone."
Ms Might looked askance at the perfectly turned out, immaculately dressed and glassy eyed Louisa Louche and smelt a deceased rodent: "Gag me with a spoon, Bar-Bel! What's wrong with this town? It's so whitebread they probably never heard of Elvis Presley!"
"Ah! It burns! It burns!" Janet/Satanette shrieked, in response to the inadvertent invocation of a semi-divine personage (as Elvis is, on Earth-55).
"Hang on. Did that little girl's dialogue just turn red?" Bat Woman queried.
"You leave Janet alone! She's just a wholesome, innocent small child, the offspring of my love affair with... now why can't I remember?"
"Satellites of Neon! Louisa, you've imbibed gallons of martinis! No wonder those gherkins pickle in your vicinity!"
The Eye was busy consulting Demonology for Metasapients:
"I'm afraid you may need to steel yourself, Clint. There's a reason that Louisa can't remember what happened, why she's suddenly reverted to her late twenties, and why she's knocking back all that booze in order to blot out the dreadful circumstances of her daughter's misconception. You see... Louisa was impregnated by the devil, and gave birth to his offspring. Ie. That small blonde child around whom natural disasters and havoc seem to interminably twirl. Isn't that right, Janet?"
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" screamed Louisa Louche, before she collapsed to the ground in a convenient swoon.
"All right, yes, Freedom Brigade, curse you!! My demonic plan to subdue Earth-55 of this period of history stands revealed in all its goriness. All I wanted to do was unleash hordes of ravening dinosaurs on this miserable planet to devour much of its population and overthrow humanity. Is that too much to ask? Just one city or two, totally devastated? Obliterated wholesale? Pretty please?"
Fortunately, the entreaties of the small girl who was actually the offspring of the Prince of Lies Himself suddenly ceased as a gnarled gigantic red hand tore through the fabric of space and time and abruptly grabbed the child by her hand:
"That was very naughty of you, Satanette."
"Oh come on, Daddy! All I did was incarnate myself unnaturally in a mortal woman's womb and threaten to unleash a horde of ravenous saurians in this period of history!"
But all to no avail, as the tiny wailing entity was pulled back to Hades to join her doting dad. As for the dinosaurs, well, yes, there was a convenient chronosynclastic infundabulum and they ended up in Global War B, much to the joy of Adenoid Hynkel, who was never particularly worried about temporal accuracy and historical orthodoxy in the first place. Unfortunately, the ravenous saurians ate Liselotte and Sieglinde before the duo could perpetrate a dire travesty of a certain seventies sitcom set in the fifties. As for Louisa Louche, she returned to embittered, thwarted fixation on Mr Might.
THE END [10.10 AM, APRIL 30, 2024]