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Post by Virgil reality on Jun 4, 2004 12:09:54 GMT 8
And ALL the queens love ME"
Nerodred stepps to the footlights and lets rip with a screeching chord Killer reverb a given
"Friends Romans Countrymen, lend us your ears he shouted, snatching the microphone from the astonished Billy Mack tribute frontman.
"It's Romanoffs, you wanker,' sniped Les. "Where you from, the first century"
"So that's the time and place I came from. Still any empire will do me."
But Nerodred, the Empire's over, you're a revolutionary refusnik now." reminded the horseman. " You have till midnight before the spell breaks"
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Post by Shars on Jun 8, 2004 6:54:24 GMT 8
“What am I going to do until midnight? This place is frozen wasteland!” cried Nerodred. The horseman, fully sympathizing with his plight, suggested that Nerodred check out the local library. Perhaps there he would find something (or someone) to keep him warm and busy until the clock tower rang midnight. “I hear its the friendliest library in all the Russias.” commented the horseman as he sent his companion off to the town square. With Les, Beano, Ray, Hughie and Tony in tow, the motley band that is Strange Fruit headed out across the frozen tundra. It was a long journey for sure, so our weary travelers kept busy by taunting each other and playing word games. Beano was the first to try, however futile the effort. “I spy with my little eye.....&(*$%# nothing! Its a winter wasteland out here!” “Perhaps some more gas emissions from our drummer would speed up the global warming process, making everything melt faster.” replied Tony. “Oh ha ha. Should we stay right here and wait for a city snow plow to cruise by and dig up that lost Hendrix tooth of yours? We might as well wait for the space shuttle while we’re at it!” was the response.
No sooner had Hughie resumed the game of “Name a band named after body parts” than Nerodred found himself distracted by a soft sound coming from the road in front of them. “Shhh” he said. “What’s that entrancing noise? It sounds like singing.” The boys had been so engrossed in their verbal abuse of each other that they failed to notice that the ground beneath them had turned from snow to a thick icky mud as far as the eye could see. But this was no ordinary mud for it was calling to them, singing with the lilting sound of a thousand underpaid backup singers. It was not until their vision was obscured by an atmospheric overhang that they knew they weren’t in Kansas anymore...or Russia for that matter. “I’ve seen this before.” said Nerodred. “It can’t hurt us. Its only the mists of aval...” “Don’t you mean fog of doom?” interrupted Les. “Mist, fog, its all condensation” retorted Nerodred.
“I don’t like this at all. Its definitely going to make my hair frizz something awful. Where’s the hair gel when you need it? CARSON!!!!” said Ray with a nervous quiver. Nerodred replied “Don’t look now, but I think the hills are alive....with the sound of music. Run for your lives!” But the warning came too late. The slime had already begun to pull the band members into its icky grip. Hughie was the first to be targeted. Just as the others began running away, everyone’s favorite roadie began moving towards the muddy trench in front of him, enticed by a mirage of banjo playing female mud wrestlers and all the “refreshments” he could smoke. Oh that evil presence is a crafty one!
Not willing to let his highest ranking party animal get absorbed into the primordial ooze without a battle, Nerodred pulled out his super secret evil slime-fighting apparatus—his violin. As fast as he could, the emperor of rock and roll popped that instrument up to his shoulder and let out a melody that could be heard for miles. Good thing too because just a few miles beyond the trench was a pig farm, and all the porcines within hearing range got the violin’s melodic message—come to me and there will be plenty of mud for all. All in a very Tarzan-like way of course. To Nerodred’s delight, thousands of little piggies heeded his call and wound their way into the muddy trench, squeeling like, well, pigs and in the process freeing Hughie from the grip of evil. Nice work Porky!
As fate would have it, just as soon as Hughie was freed and began bragging about how he shagged all the banjo playing mud wrestlers, the boys were astonished to hear Beano shout “Oh no—space monkeys are attacking!”<br> And...
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Post by Gg on Jun 9, 2004 3:21:42 GMT 8
this is brilliant -- or terribly sick -- we should play trace the storyline just to get the tangents down -- from Mist to Nero to Eddie Izzard to Troy to Bramwell to Still Crazy to Deathwatch to Queer Eye -- we should run the world
********************************************
Beano metomorphed into a rat...
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Post by Shars on Jun 9, 2004 10:15:23 GMT 8
All hail Gg for catching the Room With A View....of Hell reference!! (Begin munching popcorn furiously.) Ah, just a brief homage to my other favorite blue-eyed Brit. Sigh.
Giggle, giggle, guffaw, and one embarassing accidental snort,
Shars
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Post by Shars on Jun 10, 2004 13:31:49 GMT 8
"Everybody make for the hills!" shouted Ray who had taken the liberty of starting his sprint early (due to the difficulty of fleeing in platform shoes no doubt). Soon the skies above our madcap bunch were filled with laser beam brandishing, space travelling simians. Blasts from their other-dimensional weaponry were popping off everywhere with little success except for one that started a greasefire in Tony's hair and one that hit Beano right in the backside. Suddenly, and without warning, there arose a puff of smoke where Beano had just been standing. In his place was a fat, foul mouthed, hairy (but partially balding) rat. "Look! I found a cave. In here everybody! Make like a banana and peel!" shouted Nerodred as he motioned toward the opening. One by one the musicians made their way to the safety of the cave. The space monkeys, hearing the word 'banana' became distracted and turned their attention to searching the tundra for their favorite not-so-strange fruit. With the other-worldly attackers occupied for the moment, the boys were safe, but not as safe as they had hoped. It was dark, drippy, and generally ooky in the cave and Strange Fruit found themselves in a strange place. Les, being uncharacteristically upbeat, suggested they sit tight and wait out the space monkeys. Eventually they would become bored and start picking bugs out of each others' fur, forgetting all about the trapped band members. The others agreed and soon began exploring the confines of the cave with the help of their Bic lighters, but even the laid back Les jumped back a few feet when movement was heard coming from a dark corner. "Hmm… lunch, nice lunch. Smeagol likes rats!" said the oddly shaped creature that slinked out of the shadows. He lept towards Beano and with eyes all a-bug, picked up the now rodential drummer. "No! Don't eat Beano! Think of the cholesterol! " shouted Nerodred as he drew his Swiss Army sword. "Don't make me do to you what I did to dear old dad! Wouldn't you like this instead?" Nerodred rolled up his sleeve to reveal one of the gold cuffs he wore while in Rome. "My precious!" Smeagol exclaimed. "Come to Smeagol my precious." "Not so fast oh wrinkled one. Precious stays with me until we get out of this cave and away from the space monkeys." "Smeagol knows a back way out of the cave. I can lead you there, but it’s a long journey. Can I touch the precious before I show you the way? "Not a chance freakazoid" said Nerodred wondering why the creepy little computer generated creature seemed so very familiar. Where had he seen this fellow before? Vague memories were flooding his mind. Was it in the streets of 1950's Soho or the slums of London circa 1996? Perhaps the German front during the Great War? The question nagged at his brain. Hughie, sensing Nerodred's uneasiness chimed in. "Aye, I don't know if he can be trusted either, but since we are three people short of a fellowship and one guitarist short of a band, we don't have much choice." "Then on we go!" cried Nerodred to his faithful companions as Smeagol let out a sinister laugh. See what can happen when you bait me Virgil!!!
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Post by Virgil Reality on Jun 13, 2004 11:53:09 GMT 8
So the fellowship-sans-trois followed the CGI creature along paths darker and more twisted than any of Nerodred's plans for a benign dictatorship. The other band members were uncharacteristically quiet, no doubt musing on the numerous character roles in every British film or film requiring an expat Brit that was currently casting and cussing that the cell phone reception inside this mountain was not what had been promised when they'd paid extra for the global roaming option.
Just when they were getting some spacy vibes from the oxygen deprived atmosphere, they emerged into the daylight and a stunning mountainous backdrop. A grunting sound that was just barelt audible had Gollum scampering over the rocks and Nerodred found himself drwan to follow, though the others were harvesting the vegetation and searhing for their Bics.
In what seemed like a flash but was in fact 56.25 seconds, they came upon a wild haired wide eyed woman grunting and puffing in the best Lamaze fashion though she had never attended the classses. Nerodred, ever the one to get involved, helped to deliver the squawling infant boy with the expressive blue eyes and fabulous cheekbones.
Having been reared to regard everything in the empire as his, and thinking that a slave or two might come in handy for the future (Which, as we know, lasts a long time) Nerodred gasped, "The boy. He is mine"
"d**n right, you user. Taking advantage of a poor widow at a weak moment. Take him. You raise him then. I have other fish to fry"
Gollum edged closer, licking his ample lips. "Gollum help, mistress. Where fishies?"
"I mean I have to find the Russian. I have his poetry book."
"I think I'm the Russian poet" mused Nerodred semi audibly "Wasn't I heading to the library for the poetry reading? I seem a bit disoriented Are these the Urals"
"Fool. This is Norway. Check out our scenic fiords, our glaciers, our stunning ......."
But her words were drowned out by the screeching of a swarm of space monkeys, each clutching a Strange fruit member.
"They say the gig's just over thataway" called Hughie. "An it's a full house. Head bangers, rough crowd, we'd better perform with panache"
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Post by Shars on Jun 13, 2004 13:55:59 GMT 8
Poor Hughie! Ever the faithful and dedicated roadie, he naively hoped that the space monkeys were really some fancy mode of transportation sent by the concert promoters to retrieve the band from the tesseract in the space-time continuum. Oh such adorable hair-spray fume induced denial!
But the space monkeys had other plans for our brave adventurers. They were not taking them to any happening *&%^$ holes. Their mission was to capture them and take them back to the secret lair where their supreme commanders Dr. Evil and Mini-Marius were waiting. “Prepare the overly elaborate and unnecessarily complex execution chamber Number 2.” said Dr. Evil as he rubbed Mini-Marius’ tummy while chewing gum at the same time, just to prove a point. “Do what you want with the others, but the emperor is mine.” Scottie then chimed in “Can I have them huh dad? It would be so cool to have an over the hill but still retro-cool band playing at my bar mitzvah!” “Scottie you’re, like, thirty years old. Why would you want a bar mitzvah? “ asked the evil genius with his usual boyishly impish tone. Scottie stamped his not so evil foot and whined “Because you never let me have friends over. Its like I’m a prisoner here at evil central! That’s it—I’m officially running away from home...I mean lair. I’m taking the keys to the Big Boy statue and I’m never coming back.” Scottie turned on his heel and stormed out of the command room just as the space monkeys arrived with Nerodred and his cohorts.
“A pleasant trip I presume my dear Nerodred. I hope my space monkeys weren’t too rough with your friends. However, I see that you have acquired a new member of the band.” “Who is this bald beauty?” Dr. Evil asked as he gestured towards Smeagol. “I love the hair-do...or don’t!” “I’m Smeagol, you’re ruthlessness” answered the CGI generated former hobbit as he suspiciously eyed Mini-Marius. “And what do we have here?” Mini-Marius’ big blue eyes took on a look of nervousness as the weird little creature gave him the once over. Once Smeagol began licking his lips and intimating that Dr. Evil’s little pet might become his dinner, Mini-Marius jumped into the snuggle sack around his companion’s neck and began taunting his adversary with Bronx cheers from a safe distance.
Nerodred, clearly agitated at seeing his longtime nemesis again piped up. “Why have you brought us all here Dr. Evil? Your beef is with me, not the others. Let them go and we can settle this in a groovy way like civilized men—in a motorcycle cage match to the death, or an American Idol competition—your choice.”
“Oh if only it were to be so easy Nerodred. I’m evil, not stupid you remember. You may have lived for today with Strange Fruit, but I have a secret weapon. I’ve been taking singing lessons with Cher in exchange for giving her unnatural eternal youth. She hasn’t aged even a single day since 1968 because of my evil youth serum which I patented. I went to evil chemistry school too thank you very much” Dr. Evil bragged. “American Idol competition it is! Winner takes all, loser swims with sharks with laser beams on their heads.”<br>
With this pronouncement, the lights in the control room went down and Number 2 and Frau Farbissina, strapped on their instruments and turned on the disco ball and fog machine. As the boys of Strange Fruit swayed to the lovely strains of the song’s opening, Dr. Evil and Mini-Marius re-appeared in matching sequined outfits and began their song. “They say our love won’t pay the rent... Babe, I got you babe...”
Not wanting to see his companions become a warm meal for sharks, when it was his turn, Nerodred pulled out the most devastating song in his repertoire. “When I put my loving arms around you....” The crowd of Evil Corps employees stopped what they were doing, entranced by the gymnastic gyrations of the Roman emperor. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house as Nerodred was able to make all the young girls swoon right on cue. As the lights went up, it was clear to all that Dr. Evil was soon going to be doing the backstroke with Mr. Sharky. Mini-Marius, not being a gracious loser, responded to the crowd’s thunderous applause with a blast from his mini-machine gun. Ducking to avoid drawing fire, Nerodred, Smeagol, Ray, Beano, Les, and Tony found their way into a back corridor where they once again ran into the horseman. “This way—I’ve found where Dr. Evil keeps his escape pods!”
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Post by Virgil Reality on Jan 23, 2011 22:55:19 GMT 8
Looks like this never came to a conclusion (thought it had but if so has disappeared) but thought I'd give it a bump in case any of our newbies found anything of interest. We had a lot of fun composing these back in the day.
Great fun rereading this; now off to the Clash of the Zombies thread
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