Definitely too big, definitely definitely.
Bring in the Boiled Midgets!
And the Blood Pudding and Spotted Chicken Chips!
Don't forget the Whipped Mad Cow!
Zzzzz.. SNORE....
Don't forget the pizza with sweetcorn topping!
(Pause as everyone looks at him)
Well, I know it's not very British, but it seems to really revolt the Americans, so...
I wonder if pineapple on pizza revolts the British?
Landing next to Charlie
Hi! I'm a 30 second bomb!
Hi! I'm a 29 second bomb!
Hi! I'm a 28 second bomb!
...
Nah, the pineapple goes with the sweetcorn.
Well, I think that most British food is revolting.
That's it! You boys are going to eat black pudding!
Black pudding! I could go for something British!
I could go for something otaku!
Hey Englanders! Shoot some of those pork pies over here!
munch munch munch
Wow! An American who actually likes pork pies! Jolly good show!
(Suddenly the door flies open to admit Darth Angmar and a number of Calvinites in human form. Pause while the Evil Bad Guy takes in the surroundins).
Angmar: Fools! Your thinking is so...nine-dimensional! Soon you will pay!
(Green-red lightning begins to fly from his fingertips toward Rouse, Biggles and the Observer...)
(The lightning properly scorches Riggles, Bouse and the Boserver, but before Angmar knows it...)
SRASSH!
(The crystal shatters in a thousand brilliant little pieces, suitable for hanging from rearview mirrors but unsuitable for messing time around with.)
Riggles, Bouse and the Boserver? Where did the Annoying 30-Second Dyslexia Virus Bomb come from?
It landed next to Charlie, duh!
Cripes! Crikey! Now what?!
Fools! Ignorant fools! You do not know what you have done!
Er...stopped the evil mastermind who is somehow also a Sith Lord from fulfilling his criminal plan to reshape time to his liking?
Of course, all LICC villains have 'Darth' in front of their names! Well, most of them...
Lucas has a LOT to answer for, you know...
"Your shattering of the crystal has caused an intertemporal chronometric rift! You have sent the Eye of Harmony plunging into the vortex-"
Oh no, wait, wrong script. (tosses it away)
"You have dialled eighteen Stargates and sent time repeating for three months-"
Blast it, wrong again. (Tosses second script away) Where is the darned thing? Ah, here we are:
"The only way to seal the rift is to produce a continuous stream of technobabblyon particles organised into a static energy shell!"
Do not worry chums, for...I Have A Cunning PlanTM...
Meanwhile, in the main battle, Calvin looks up as he hears a noise near the window. With suprise, he notices a large beetle shaped ship hovering outside.
He's even more suprised when a small object beams into his tower. He has time to read the words "telepathy scrambling bomb. Use for large groups only." before the thing explodes, causing a bright light to erupt inside the tower.
Alex: Of course, we modified the bomb so that it would only impact a small area...
(Some time later. Angmar and Observer are glowering at each other in the corner, with Observer preventing Angmar from interfering as Rouse works his Cunning Plan)
Rouse (to a couple of humanoid Calvinites): OK, you know who you have to get?
(The Calvinites look at Angmar with misgivings)
Angmar (through gritted teeth): Do it.
(The Calvinites nod and vanish, then return almost instantaneously with a couple of human figures).
Captain Rouse: Excellent. May I present Major Samuel Rouse of the King's Own Yorkshire Rifles, and his friend and advisor Dr. Henry Biggles, MA (Cantab.).
(Rouse's and Biggles' ancestors look identical to them, apart from their clothing: Sam Rouse wears a rifle greenjacket, the eighteenth century equivalent of camouflage gear, while Henry Biggles wears eighteenth-century finery stained with brightly coloured liquids from his experiments. Both are wearing big eighteenth century glasses, through which they look around puzzledly)
Rouse: Evening, gentlemen. With your assistance we should have no problem stopping the temporal interchronometric...whatever it was.
H. Biggles: Can we use phlogiston??
The doors to Calvin's throne room exploded open. When the dust cleared, Adon was standing in the doorway with his fist extended.
Knock knock!
Who's there?
Fine, Rouse and Rouse and Biggles and Biggles, do your best. I'll keep our Sith friend company.
Yes! Yes! and Yes! and Yes!
R. Rouse: So the only way to emit a stream of technobabblyon particles is...
P. Biggles: We'll need a particle accelerator and a crystal of these specifications... (Hands Rouse a sheet of paper which fountains down from his hands into a whole ream of printout)
H. Biggles: And phlogiston! Don't forget the phlogiston!
P. Biggles: Shut up Hen, that doesn't exist.
H. Biggles: WHAT?!
S. Rouse: Come on gentlemen. We must jyne forces.
R. Rouse: Well said, Samuel Sidney Scott Stephen Sandringham!
S. Rouse: That's quite all right, Richard Ranulph Rodney Reginald Royston.
H. Biggles: Very well. I and my descendant shall begin work on the corpuscle velocitor.
P. Biggles: The particle accelerator.
H. Biggles: Whatever.
Both Rouses: OK... (reading the crystal specification) Um...is there a GEOLOGIST in the house...?
Calling KAM Tracy! KAM Tracy, report!
Geology ROCKS!
Knowledge is Power!
Oook!*
*And power is energy, and energy is matter, and matter is mass, which distorts space. A good library is just a genteel black hole that knows how to read.
No, power is the rate of energy production/consumption. That is, energy divided by time. Power can also be described as work divided by time.
Now, we know that Knowledge is Power.
We also Time is money.
or:
K = P
T = $
Now, given that P = W/T (power = work/time), we can substitute.
K = W / $
Or...
$ = W / K
That is, money is equal to the amount of work you do divided by how much you know. While you can never do an infinite amount of work (there are only so many hours in a day, after all), the less you know, the more you will make!
The usefulness of any physics equation made up to grab headlines is determined by:
U = kS
Where U is the usefulness, S is the amount of real science involved in the theory, and k is a constant approximately equal to 0.0 x 1000.
My brain hurts.
This story needs a bump.
*BUMP!*
And according to the time stamp thing, it's a bump in the night...
Or even the day, for that matter...
No, tge Monster is just in time zone GMT+6!
Gadzooks! Where did that Californian computer programmer come from?
HE IS MY AVATAR. DO YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THAT?
MWA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!
Um, would you care to shut that interdimensional rift, Observer old chap?
Good as done, old foot.
KWEEEE-KLOMP!
Jolly good!
Now, Biggleses, get back to work on that particle accelerator, and me and my ancestor will see about getting hold of that crystal!
(Finally the apparatus is constructed. Darth Angmar is about to interfere but the Observer stops him. Rouse nods to his companions)
Rouse: Now!
(Henry Biggles flips the Great Big LeverTM and the particle accelerator fires a stream of technobabblyon particles at the big crystal, which begins pulsating)
Both Biggleses: It's working!
(The crystal shines out briefly and everything flickers. Then the Rouses and Biggleses begin to fade)
Rouse: Ah, we must be returning to our original timeframe. Observer, deal with Angmar and then catch us up, will you?
(Just before Rouse vanished he hears George Washington say something behind him...)
"Now that we've had that frank and fair exchange of views, I think we can..."
(Rouse and Biggles rematerialise on the bridge of the Spidermobile)
Rouse: Coo crikey, jolly good job we got that sorted out, isn't it!
Biggles: Er...Cappers?
(Standing before them are alternate members of the LICC. Jackson Tacoman is wearing a yellow and red costume with an emblem of a crowned eagle on a cactus eating a taco; Milkshake has blue combat armour bearing a flag consisting of a Union Jack and 13 red and white stripes).
Tacoman: Jolly good to see you back here, chaps!
Milkshake: Now, we really must go and sort out that pesky blighter Alvin the Alligator! For the Dominion of America!
Tacoman: And the Viceroyalty of Nueva Espana!
(They high-five)
Biggles: CAPPERS...
Rouse: I couldn't help it! After they had a fight they decided to work out their differences and grant dominion status to the colonies rather than face a bloody war!
Biggles: Right! We're going back to darn well tell them they ARE going to face a bloody war! Where are those pictures of Concorde and Apollo...?
(Rouse and Biggles vanish, but it will take them weeks to repair the damage to the timeline).
Figurative weeks. They're actually back in under two seconds, but they retire to the holodeck to relax for a good long bit.
Calvin and his guards look up when the doors blow open.
"It's about time," Calvin observes. His guards charge the Wanderer.
Alex hears Calvin's voice.
"Oh, come on. Everyone knows those don't really exist. I would've thought that the LICC would be more creative than this."
What don't exist? Wanderers?
They call me the wanderer.
Extreme close-up on Jadlad.
Well, all the jokes can't be good. You've got to expect that once in a while.
Extreme close-up
WHOOAAAAAA!
WHOOAAAAAA!
Huh?
Butrfli, who also picked up Calvin's message, responds back to him.
Maybe not in this universe, but we happpen to have quite a catalog of products and things from various universes.
She then "switches" mental channels and directs a message to Adon.
How are things going on your end?
"Don't lie, witch. It doesn't really suit you," Calvin responds, "And I'll have you know that the Wanderer was surprised to learn that the throne room was an illusion. He's very strong-willed though. Only took him a few minutes to break through it. It appears he's nearly at my doors. I look forward to killing him. He seems like a worthy adversary."
Calvin finally stops sending to Butrfli and turns to one of his elite guards.
"Have any of our troops returned to the palace yet?"
The guard shakes his head. "It's taking them longer than we anticipated. I'm sure we can hold the LICC off until they get here." The guard looks nervous. Calvin growls as he turns away. It was looking likely that they wouldn't.
You'll have to take me out first, Crocodile! The newest and best hero around!
bashes into Calvin's inner sanctum
Eleven posts? ELEVEN posts? Me and Biggles chuff off for FIVE weeks and there's only ELEVEN posts?!!
(Rouse and Biggles flicker like bad holograms as author Thande's location is suddenly rediscovered by the bloke he shamelessly based Rouse on and their existence becomes debatable)
Reality is beginning to freeze!
MARGARET!!!! Get me the writers for that LICC thingie.
the writers are on the line
Look, you! Ratings are so far down, if they were in the basement, it would be an improvement! If ratings don't go up in the near future, none of you will EVER work in this town again, much less do lunch! DO YOU HEAR ME!
Turns to one of his coworkers
Geez, doesn't that guy know he sounds like a broken record? Does it even matter anymore?
You do realize that he killed the entire crew of Archangel and go away with it, don't you?
Time for a big show-starting number!
That's my schtick.
And these are my schtones!
Schpeak shoftly and carry a big schtick.
As usual, you're totally wrong, Connery.
D@mn you and your daily doubles you brigand! One day it'll be my turn, Trebek!
There is a knock at the Jaded LICC writer's door. He gets up and opens the door.
The Evil Executive is standing there, with a gun. He points the gun at the writer.
Yes, it matters. Do I make myself clear?
Suddenly, and for no reason except for rating, a horde of naked women charge the castle.
Much better.
He pats his gun...
Aigk! Naughty bits on the television!
Earl, call the press, call the FCC, and call my rabid team of lawyer-weasels! We'll take K-NIT for every cent they've got!
Well, LICC's pretty much done with, as far as I can see.
Yeah, probably.
Anyway....
The battle continues to rage in Calvin's palace. The LICC slowly but steadily take level by level, of the building, making their way to the throne room.
"Excuse me, I would really appreciate it if you would not kill my master," says a brainwashed yet apparently content Voutaran as he head butts Rikard. A few hits from the commander and the enemy soldier is down.
"Well, at least they're polite," he says before firing at several other enemies. It's then that the voices start. The corridor around Rikard dissolves and changes into a desert island. All of Calvin's troops are still there, but he's clearly no longer in the corridor. The other LICC have similar experiences. Milkshake finds him and everyone around him back at Day 1 of boot camp, the scene around Alex becomes the Spidership of his old dimension, and Butrfli finds herself at a surreal place. It's a large field full of dancing, singing flowers and candy bars. The sky is full of orange, yellow, and pink clouds. Behind the clouds is a bright blue star. The other LICC find themselves in other strange places, though in each place Calvin's giddy minions are with them.
"Time to see how strong these minds are," Calvin observes.
(Rouse and Biggles rematerialise in a world made entirely of molten semolina, with a sky the colour of the inside of a goat's stomach and giant obelisks made of purple modelling clay on the horizon)
Rouse: I say! This is just like Bognor!
Biggles: Except for the locals!
(Rouse and Biggles start fighting off Calvin's minions with liquid nitrogen hardened breadsticks)
The pressure dome of Charon base looms high overhead. Milkshake finds himself standing with the rest of the raw recruits, all men from eighteen to forty-five, newly shorn, acid-bathed and deradiated. A tremendously scary figure in Marine fatigues comes striding out of the command building.
"We have ourselves a batch of fresh SCUM! Listen up, maggots. I am Sergeant McGrady, the man responsible for sculpting mold like you into fighting men. IF you are lucky, you'll die in battle with a grin on your face and my name on your lips. IF you are not, you'll find yourself ground into the lunar dust by my little finger! I am the ANGEL OF DEATH, the GRIM..."
McGrady breaks off as he hears someone quietly finishing his sentence, out of memory.
"...reaper, and the owner of the remainder of your unpleasant little lives."
Milkshake suddenly realizes he has been speaking aloud. McGrady stalks up to him with barely contained rage, looks full into Milkshake's eyes and whispers...
"What did you say, son?"
Alex: What's going on? Why am I here?
With that, a bevy of fembots approach, theyr eyes spinning in a hypnotic way.
Lead Fembot: Don't worry Mr. Dupree, all your questions will be answered in time. Just look into my eyes...
Butrfli: Where am I? Magrathea or something? Our guides were right... Calvin is very powerful indeed.
Maybe I have a spell...
With that, something rises from the ground and hits her in the face.
What was that? I think...
As before, something hits her in the face...
Ow!
Meanwhile, Jackson finds himself in a prison cell, dressed in a tunic. A goard approaches.
Tacotus, time for your gladiator training...
Jadlad sits bored out of his mind.
I'm hungry. I wish I had a muffin.
Su-Zee released from prison and now a member of S.K.I.P.P.Y.S. walks by.
I just heard what you said sweatie. Today's your lucky day. Have one of mine.
She hands him a chocolate chip muffin.
A muffin!
I'll name you Jeff.
Jadlad stares at the muffin.
What?!
Jadlad stares at it some more.
What are you doing?
A close up of the muffin, then of Jadlad.
WHY ARE YOU MOCKING ME!?
Ah well.
Jadlad pulls down his mask and eats the muffin.
Oh no! Jeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeff!
What have I done?
Jadlad sobs into his hands while Su-Zee backs away slowly.
You know what we need? A finale!
And so, the logical link was made between the decline of the great Star Trek television dynasty and the great LICC cybersoap dynasty. Compounding the problem, however, is the plain and simple fact that LICC fans, while undoubtedly wanting adventures as enjoyable and exciting as in their glory years, were in fact responsible for the adventures they desired. They had no producers and writers, except fictional ones, to blame. And so the inevitable was eventually accepted.
The Bad Guys are defeated, as always, and all LICC members, new and old, join together on the bridge of the Spidermobile.
Commander Milkshake: Well, I suppose that's that. Time for fantastic adventures in uncharted regions...or we can go on vacation.
Jadlad is briefly called away from the festivities on the Spidemobile's bridge.
Jadlad: I'm WHAT?!
Admiral Rutker: You heard me Jadlad. You're being reassigned to the Phantom Returns universe aboard the Pizza Time Ship "Triple Cheese" NX-03, with a promotion to Commander, Su-Zee will be joining you as your assistant. Later the Brady triplets and your sister Alison will be sent there as soon as they've all finished S.K.I.P.P.Y.S. Time Travel School.
Congrats.
Jadlad rejoins the festivites.
Good news everyone. I just got a promotion to Commander and a new assignment in the Phantom Returns universe.
His beeper goes off.
Blast it. Gotta make a pizza delivery. I wish you all well. Take care of yourselves everyone.
He gives everone a handshake or hug if they wanted it or not.
Until we meet again.
PIZZA POWER!!
He dimension hops away.
(Suddenly all Rouse and Biggles' enemies vanish)
Rouse: Bally hoo, that was good luck Perce!
Biggles: Yes Cappers, we were down to our last breadsticks and liquid nitrogen.
(Suddenly the Kirinre appears)
Kirinre: It is time for this to end.
Rouse: Already? We've only been here five minutes!
Kirinre: I fear so. LICC's fate is tied to that of Trek, and the cursed kiss of Berman and Braga is upon us.
Both: Urrgh...
Biggles: So what must we do?
Kirinre: I'm sending you back to tackle more shamelessly ripped off Bond villains.
I, on the other hand...
(the light around the Kirinre fades to reveal he is in fact Thande)
...am going over to www.alternatehistory.com/discussion to become a film star!
Rouse: Good for you, Kirinre old chap!
Kirinre (waving hands): Now, an end!
Rouse: I never even got to play Solitaaaairre...
(All three vanish in flashes, cascading down Doctor Whoish vortices back to their homes)
THE END
CAPTAIN ROUSE WILL RETURN IN "TWO LONELY STIFF MICE"
NEIL CONNERY WILL NOT RETURN IN ANYTHING.
Hello, ACME Redshirt Supply Company?
This is the LICC. Yeah, please cancel our last order. ... What? No, we just don't need them.
And the moral of the story is: The End.
Hello, J.B.? This is E.E.
Yeah, you know that LICC thingie? Let's just cancel it. No matter how I crack the whip, those writers just won't work. Yeah, I now. But we do have all those great reality shows, like "Survivor:DDDS", and "NitCentralian Idol".
What? The fans? Forget about the fans! Heck, even their fan site got clobbered on the Net.
watching spy footage of E.E.
Their fansite? Heh heh HEH! Our plan is working!
Then, from unknown hatches, secret passageways, and hidden corridors on the bridge, hordes of cautious, pale redshirts emerge
"You mean...it's over?" "No more deaths to hide from?" "We're safe?"
All: "YIPPEE!"
A bottle of champagne is brought out...which unfortunately turns out to be a Terrellian fermented-grape-juice powered projecticle cannon, which when fired kills all present redshirts.
Let the consoles ring!
BOOM!
Let the consoles ring!
BOOM!
LICC is ending now,
it's really been a blast.
Although it's been a fine ol' show,
This will be our last.
We've beat Duke Wicked and the Franks,
we've been to the past and future.
We've been pushed into septic tanks
and set fire to a vulture.
We never got past Spidership Three
though we've had sev'ral Tacomen.
It fills our hearts with utmost glee
That LICC has beat Enterprise again.
So now let's raise our glasses,
to the wonder of the LICC,
and know that in a few years' time,
the memories will stick!
YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY LICC!!!
I'm a LICCer
He's a LICCer
She's a LICCer
They're a LICCer
Wouldn't you like to be a LICCer too?
Oh, man, now what are we going to watch?
Don't worry!
We already have our new project on the go, Ultimate New LICC Time Travel Continuitybusters, in which Jason Burritoboy or whatever his name is saves the universe in the Insectcraft with the assistance of Lieutenant McFlurry, the Onlooker, Corporal Madman and the Fluffball!
"All right!!! They're distracted by the mind control. Let's get out of here. As soon as I'm far enough away, execute Plan Z," Calvin orders.
"You want to blow up your beautiful palace, Master?" one of his minions asks.
"If the LICC are in it, I have no problem with it," Calvin replies, "Now go." The minion nods enthusiastically and leaves. After a moment, Calvin and his guards do as well. They run to a nearby room, where a small shuttle awaits. They board and take off, flying away from the building. As Calvin looks back, he pulls out a comm link.
"Execute," he commands.
"Cut!!!" someone yells, "That's a wrap, we've been cancelled." Calvin can't believe what he's hearing.
"What?!?!?!?!?!?!? But I was just about to complete my wonderful plan!" he stammers, "I was going to be the one who beat the LICC!!"
"Sorry pal," replies the man, "Can't do anything about it. The higher ups say we're done, then we're done. Knock it down."
With that, several workers knock down Calvin's cardboard ship and take his chair, leaving the crocodile alone on the cold concrete floor.
Hi, are we late? ....Oh. Right.
Right, back to the croc farm with you...
grabs up Calvin with his bare hands, who promptly chomps down on his arm
AIAIAIAIAIAIAIAIAIAIAIAIIII!!!!
Crikey!
We see the outside of the LICC set. The sign says, "LICC". Then there's an appearance....
Hi! I'm a 3 second bomb!
Hi! I'm a 2 second bomb!
Hi! I'm a 1 second bomb!
BOOM!!!!!!!!
The sign is completely destroyed.
And in the end...
the love we send...
The love we TAKE!
is equaaal to the loooove
We make!
In a far corner of reality, a small red ship hovers in the space between stars.
Are you all right? a low-key telepathic sending asks.
YES. WHOLE. TOO NEAR TEMPORAL-DIMENSIONAL FLUX.
It's dim inside the red ship. Artsy brushes blueish hair out of her eyes. Is that your way of saying we're lost?!
There is a pause before Seeker replies: WE ARE SAFE.
"Oh, Light." Artsy rubs her eyes. What happened to Kieran? Did he exit?
The answer is shrouded in CONFUSION. LEFT. FOUGHT. RESTORED?
"Okay. He's definitely not here, though." Artsy sits back against Seeker's inside wall. Guess what we'll be doing for the next little while?
DIMENSION HUNTING. PLEASED.
A small, alarmed sending reaches Artsy's mind. hunt? silent one? what? A moment later, a small figure creeps onto her lap.
Artsy hugs the child to her. "Quito. How'd you get here?"
slip, rip, lights spinning, whoops! Even in the dimness, the artist can tell that her young ward is smirking.
TEMPORAL-DIMENS--
You've picked up some bad technobabble habits, Artsy notes. Now are you sure you don't know where LICC is?
DROOPING. DISAPPOINTMENT. APOLOGIES....
Artsy laughs aloud. "That's enough. Let's just go find them, huh?"
The tiny red ship spins about in space, turning, sensing the fabric of this particular bit of reality.
adventure?
"Yes, Quito." Artsy settles the girl on the floor next to her, arm still around her shoulder. "I'm sure this will be an awfully big adventure."
A tiny dimensional rip formed, and a moment later that part of space was completely undisturbed.
And LICC is revealed to be nothing but a holodeck projection, being viewed by Future Commander Milkshake, Future Colanator and Hairy Kim. Milkshake kisses the frozen Hamburger Pattie on the lips.
Future Colanator: Yuk.
Mercifully, Future LICC is revealed to be nothing but a holodeck projection watched by several yellowshirts, who don't kiss anyone.
And the yellowshirts are revealed to be nothing but a holodeck projection watched by several redshirts, who drop dead out of boredom.
And Suzanne Pleshette wakes up and sees the redshirts all taking a shower.
The showers turn to acid, killing the redshirts (again) and everyone wakes up in 1999 to find that, as Star Wars: The Phantom Menace was never made, there was no Phantom Returns board, and thus LICC never existed
George Lucas wakes up in bed
"Honey...I had the strangest dream. I dreamed that I had actually gone ahead with the prequels, and a bizarre and strange message board story was started because of it."
The other occupant of the bed turns over...Princess Leia, complete with buns.
"I told you not to eat that Gungan food before bed."