Post by perpetuallytired on Jan 9, 2011 0:00:28 GMT -5
Fred, who spent the entirety of the New Year's holiday is a food-induced hyper hibernation, climbs out of his usual resting place, a giant smoldering crater next to the last remaining Quick Stop store in Tokyo. He protects the Quick Stop for a few reasons; most of these involve the store's abundant supply of hand sanitizer (Fred hates getting his scaly hands dirty).
He's just about to enter the store again--no small feat, since he only fit through the extra-wide offloading section in the back--when the Quick Stop begins to melt! Greenish-yellow acid eats through the store's cement, reducing the entire structure to a gloopy grey pile of slush in mere second. Alarmed and annoyed, Fred frantically looks around, already on high alert.
"I'VE GONE BAD!" a shrill voice calls from the skies above. Fred flaps his massive wings and soars into the air. He nearly bumps into Ra-Men, who's surrounded by a thick, hazy green cloud. His half-charred body is kept afloat by a primitive jet pack that's leaking fuel.
"What vileness is this?!" Fred roars, batting his winds fiercely so that the cloud dissipates. When it does, he can see that Ra-Men looks horrible. His usual glossy exterior has dulled considerably, and congealed soup is leaking out of open holes in his...cup.
"Hiya there, Fred. Look at me. You see, before you a man...OF DEATH! Wait, I mean...a man almost dead. Fuck am I tired."
"Explain yourself, you dribbling fool!"
"I don't have to explain a thing!" Ra-Man reaches into his cup (which is more than a little gross) and produces a small gun no larger or wider than a role of toilet paper. "You'll pay for what you've done!"
Fred snickers at the size of Ra-Men's puny gun...until the oozing cup of noodles pulls the trigger. The blast hits Fred square in the chest, sending him tumbling through the skies, desperately trying to regain balance.
"You almost ruined me!" Ra-Man shouts. "And you killed my brothers!"
Fred assesses his damage and, finding that the wound is minor, beats his leathery, massive wings even harder and charges at Ra-Man. He ducks the evil noodle enthusiast's other blasts, even though the second one brushing just inches from his left eye. The heat partially blurs his vision. Nonetheless, Fred has the wherewithall to knock the gun of of Ra-Man's hand. It tumbles to the ground hundreds of feet below. It lands in front of a pack of wild dogs.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, you dangerous and smelly bastard." Fred's now so mad that his French-Scotch accent is slipping.
"I was...at the bi-monthly Noodles Lover's Conference..."
"Here in Tokyo? There are like ten buildings standing. Where did you meet?"
"At the top of the abandoned Movie Gallery headquarters. It's been turned into a massive orgy house for a clan of lizardmen from Kentucky."
"Of course."
"But now and then they lease the space to us. We gather to share recipes, tips, and general thoughts on the noodle-eating experience. Soup eaters are also welcome. Oh, and there's a book club."
Fred playfully cuts a hole in Ra-Man's suit. "Boring story, bud. Speed it up."
"You attacked us, you monster! We were are all debating how much sauce you squeeze onto cooked noodles (2/3 of the pack is the obvious answer) when a burst of flame burned them all alive. I know you're the culprit! You've always had it out for me!"
Fred leans in closer and samples some of the soup dribbling out of Ra-Man's costume. "Do you..noodle and soup enthusiasts...have a cook-off?"
"Yes."
"Did people bring any dishes that were...spicy?"
"Sure. Our tastes are quite advanced. We've been hardened by years of experience."
"And you all brought jet packs?"
"What a stupid question. Yes, we all bring jet packs. The stairs in the Movie Gallery HQ have all been demolished."
"Did you ever think that one of you guys ate too much spicy stuff, tried to make a hasty retreat, and just..."
Fred breathes some to simulate the explosion that most likely wiped out the group. However, Ra-Man sees this as an offensive measure.
"Oh no you don't, you sharp-tooted, oddly-voiced hellion!"
Ra-Man flips around and aims the jet pack exhausts at Fred's face.
"This will blind you...DOOM-ily. Yikes, my material needs some work..."
This was not a great idea.
"You've annoyed me for the last time."
Fred spits out another flood of flame that mixes with the combustible exhaust before flapping backwards. The jet pack explodes and Ra-Man is sent hurtling towards the ground. Fred watches as he lands on the pack of wild dogs that were investigating Ra-Man's gun.
Fred chuckles to himself, thinking that the charred remains of the Movie Gallery HQ might make a great new home. He'll just have to cut a deal with those horny Southern lizardmen...
He's just about to enter the store again--no small feat, since he only fit through the extra-wide offloading section in the back--when the Quick Stop begins to melt! Greenish-yellow acid eats through the store's cement, reducing the entire structure to a gloopy grey pile of slush in mere second. Alarmed and annoyed, Fred frantically looks around, already on high alert.
"I'VE GONE BAD!" a shrill voice calls from the skies above. Fred flaps his massive wings and soars into the air. He nearly bumps into Ra-Men, who's surrounded by a thick, hazy green cloud. His half-charred body is kept afloat by a primitive jet pack that's leaking fuel.
"What vileness is this?!" Fred roars, batting his winds fiercely so that the cloud dissipates. When it does, he can see that Ra-Men looks horrible. His usual glossy exterior has dulled considerably, and congealed soup is leaking out of open holes in his...cup.
"Hiya there, Fred. Look at me. You see, before you a man...OF DEATH! Wait, I mean...a man almost dead. Fuck am I tired."
"Explain yourself, you dribbling fool!"
"I don't have to explain a thing!" Ra-Man reaches into his cup (which is more than a little gross) and produces a small gun no larger or wider than a role of toilet paper. "You'll pay for what you've done!"
Fred snickers at the size of Ra-Men's puny gun...until the oozing cup of noodles pulls the trigger. The blast hits Fred square in the chest, sending him tumbling through the skies, desperately trying to regain balance.
"You almost ruined me!" Ra-Man shouts. "And you killed my brothers!"
Fred assesses his damage and, finding that the wound is minor, beats his leathery, massive wings even harder and charges at Ra-Man. He ducks the evil noodle enthusiast's other blasts, even though the second one brushing just inches from his left eye. The heat partially blurs his vision. Nonetheless, Fred has the wherewithall to knock the gun of of Ra-Man's hand. It tumbles to the ground hundreds of feet below. It lands in front of a pack of wild dogs.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, you dangerous and smelly bastard." Fred's now so mad that his French-Scotch accent is slipping.
"I was...at the bi-monthly Noodles Lover's Conference..."
"Here in Tokyo? There are like ten buildings standing. Where did you meet?"
"At the top of the abandoned Movie Gallery headquarters. It's been turned into a massive orgy house for a clan of lizardmen from Kentucky."
"Of course."
"But now and then they lease the space to us. We gather to share recipes, tips, and general thoughts on the noodle-eating experience. Soup eaters are also welcome. Oh, and there's a book club."
Fred playfully cuts a hole in Ra-Man's suit. "Boring story, bud. Speed it up."
"You attacked us, you monster! We were are all debating how much sauce you squeeze onto cooked noodles (2/3 of the pack is the obvious answer) when a burst of flame burned them all alive. I know you're the culprit! You've always had it out for me!"
Fred leans in closer and samples some of the soup dribbling out of Ra-Man's costume. "Do you..noodle and soup enthusiasts...have a cook-off?"
"Yes."
"Did people bring any dishes that were...spicy?"
"Sure. Our tastes are quite advanced. We've been hardened by years of experience."
"And you all brought jet packs?"
"What a stupid question. Yes, we all bring jet packs. The stairs in the Movie Gallery HQ have all been demolished."
"Did you ever think that one of you guys ate too much spicy stuff, tried to make a hasty retreat, and just..."
Fred breathes some to simulate the explosion that most likely wiped out the group. However, Ra-Man sees this as an offensive measure.
"Oh no you don't, you sharp-tooted, oddly-voiced hellion!"
Ra-Man flips around and aims the jet pack exhausts at Fred's face.
"This will blind you...DOOM-ily. Yikes, my material needs some work..."
This was not a great idea.
"You've annoyed me for the last time."
Fred spits out another flood of flame that mixes with the combustible exhaust before flapping backwards. The jet pack explodes and Ra-Man is sent hurtling towards the ground. Fred watches as he lands on the pack of wild dogs that were investigating Ra-Man's gun.
Fred chuckles to himself, thinking that the charred remains of the Movie Gallery HQ might make a great new home. He'll just have to cut a deal with those horny Southern lizardmen...
