They watched the monkeys closely. That was their mistake. The monkeys had been an obvious distraction from the true assault force. From behind them they heard a cry. It was THE Dragon and C-9!
THE Dragon: Watch out!
Turning quickly they saw the threat. Creeping at them from all around were Mimes! Scores upon scores of Mimes!
And so… As the Trio are now reunited (THE Dragon, Vindicator, Tito, Trauma, Goliath and C-9) The direction of this story by no means any closer to being concluded or understood.
The battle raged… and the Mimes swarmed the adventures, and monkeys kept dropping beer bottles. Of course Trauma and Tito were faring much better then the others. However, these Mimes seemed to be unaffected by conventional physical beatings. In the distance a Mime made a motion like he was throwing a lasso. Moments later THE Dragon was roped and being dragged.
Vindicator was suddenly hit by an idea. Getting back to his feet and brushing off the coat, he frustratedly tossed the damnable scarf over his shoulder.
Reaching into his gymbag… digging past the towel, binaca and inflatable helicopter he pulled out several large…. fish! Tossing them to others they commenced in a counter strike that drove the Mimes fleeing into the woods. Running out of beer bottle, the monkeys also retreated. But not before pulling THE Dragon away at the end of an invisible rope.
Vindicator: We gotta rescue him!
A long silent pause…
Trauma : Why?
Another long silent pause…
Vindicator: I don’t have any answer to that.
[writer: TRAUMA – Orange pop… my ass!]
Tito: “Well how do you propose to rescue him?”
The Vindicator: “We could start by running after him.”
Trauma: “There’s a certain undeniable logic to that.”
The Vindicator: “Shall we then?”
There were several grunts and nods… Someone even said “Sure.” And the chase was on… The Vindicator, Goliath and Trauma were running at a good pace. Tito was trotting along behind in a jaunty fashion so as not to scuff his boots.
They crossed over a small ridge and stumbled into a large clearing. At the centre was THE Dragon, apparently tied to an invisible tree with an invisible rope. The Vindicator scanned the area, but saw nothing… Nonetheless, he was concerned…. This was too easy. Trauma took a step forward, then another… and another… Then he stopped rather abruptly and said “Ouch!”
He had apparently bumped his nose on an invisible shield. He turned around and started to walk back to the group when he bumped his nose again. He threw up his arms, but they were stopped dead about 2 inches above his head.
Goliath: “What’s going on?”
The Vindicator: “Sweet Koresh! I think he’s trapped in an invisible box! The mimes must still be in the vicinity!”
Just then Tito emerged from the trees behind them…
Tito: “I’d have been here sooner, but I love my boots! What’s Trauma doing?”
The Vindicator: “He’s stuck inside an invisible box.”
Tito: “Those Mime Bastards!”
Several mimes emerged from the circling trees and started annoying the Trio(?). One of them came right up to them and started climbing an imaginary rope. These mimes were bold indeed! C-9 started to short-circuit, and Goliath looked like he would soon follow suit. Tito, realizing that he’d dropped his fish, decided that a strategic retreat was in order.
The Vindicator, in a flash of inspiration, pulled a pair of scissors from his bag and cut the invisible rope from which the mime was hanging. The mime fell to his death. The other mimes saw this and gasped. They regrouped and prepared for the second wave of the attack…
[writer: The Vindicator – Damn this is a handy Gym-Bag!]
And so the situation was grave for our heroes. The Mimes, their morale restored by their leader’s pep-mime, surged forward in a new assault. However, just to be on the safe side, a couple of big burly mime apprentices dragged off THE Dragon out of sight.
Trauma was caught in a Mime cage and could not move. Vindicator, Goliath and Tito bravely crashed against the line of Mimes, thrashing them with an assortment of fish that were conveniently lying around. Vindicator gleefully brandished a pair of Mack(eral)-10’s. Goliath was enjoying limited success with his all-porpoise assault dolphin, not realizing that it was a mammal and not a fish but still being effective on several mimes who didn’t know it either. Naturally, it was Tito who was doing the most damage. He masterfully employed a Louisville-Salmon which he wielded with both hands.
While Vindicator and Goliath were slowly wearing down the Mime attackers, it was Tito who cut a swath of destruction into the flank of the Mimes. Mimes fell like wheat before a scythe and he penetrated deep into the ranks of Mimes in a cloud of dust and face makeup. In the cloud of dust it soon became hard to see. He swung at what appeared to be a silhouette (sp?) of a Mime but which wasn’t. The salmon flew from his grasp (damn Crisco).
The dust was beginning to clear and Tito could see several new forms cautiously approaching. He had to think fast. Pulling out his supply of Crisco, he applied a liberal dose on his face and hands to make himself appear to be wearing makeup and gloves. By now the dust had cleared and about 2 dozen elite mimes that had been held in reserve approached him. They looked suspiciously at the unarmed Tito but were uncertain. Tito quickly lapsed into the Mime classic “Man Walking Against the Wind” and successfully threw suspicion off of himself.
Tito gestured off in a direction still partially obscured by the dust and the Mimes surged off into the cloud. Fortunately for our heroes, the Mimes stumbled off a conveniently placed sheer cliff and, since the ones in front did not vocalize the peril to their comrades behind them, they all obediently marched off the cliff and plummeted to the ground to suffer agonizingly slow deaths.
The few remaining mimes fighting Vindicator and Goliath saw these losses and quickly fled in silent terror.
The danger now having passed, the Trio considered the problem of how to release Trauma from the invisible cage. For his part, Trauma had contributed absolutely nothing to the battle but had merely tipped the cage over in trying to reach his sack of poppies that was just out of reach.
Feeling extremely foolish, Tito, Vindicator and Goliath hefted the Mime cage and Trauma along with to an up-right position.
Now came the hard part. How to get him out of the box? They stood in silence contemplating the idea.
Vindicator : You know… We could just leave him in there.
Of course, this was absolutely not even remotely possible because of Trauma’s vast importance in the story. Besides, Vindicator came to his senses and figured that if Trauma survived, he would more than likely not.
Tito : I have an idea.
Moments latter, they had pushed the cage to the edge of the sheer cliff (Kurt) and poised it for the fall. Trauma of course was defiantly screaming in terror as he so desperately wished he had some tin foil.
Vindicator : If this doesn’t work?
Tito : (waving his hand and nodding to signify his confidence) Don’t worry.. it will.
Goliath : Look! (pointing at Trauma) Whats he doing?
Vindicator : Looks like he’s miming something.
Tito : What’s he miming besides begging us not to attempt this stupid and dangerous stunt.
Vindicator : I think that’s exactly what he’s miming!
With no further ado… the mime box fell over the edge and crashed onto the bodies of dozens of dead mimes. It was still intact.
Tito : Guess it didn’t work.
Vindicator : How do we get down there?
Tito : (waving his hand and nodding to signify his confidence) Don’t worry…
Goliath was getting extremely bored… he was continuously being distracted. As Tito and Vindicator discussed the details of Tito’s plan. Goliath heard squeaking off in the distance. Through the trees he made out the form of a man wearing black and pushing what appeared to be a large cart. His interest getting the better of him, he wandered off after the man. As he got closer he noticed that the man was wearing a black hood with horns and a pair of goat skin leggings. Also the cart was actually a stone altar with four mix-matched wheels (baby carriage, Hyundai pony, a skateboard, and a broken ski) Goliath was compelled to follow this man… and so he did.
(So ends Goliath’s adventure (for now)… He will return later as always to join a new adventure.)
[writer: TRAUMA – Anton.]
Returning to the conundrum which was currently plaguing our hero’s…
The Vindicator rummaged through his bag and, grinning, pulled out a long cord which he and Tito used to rappel down the cliff (Kurt) face. Once they reached the bottom, Tito felt the sides of the box, but found no openings… It was evidently a strong box.
“This is evidently a strong box.”, said Tito, redundantly.
A look of stern concentration crossed The Vindicator’s face… There was an idea forming in there somewhere… Suddenly, there was a loud “ding” and a broad grin crossed The Vindicator’s face!
The Vindicator: “Eureka!”
Tito: “I will not be pulled into that old joke!”
The Vindicator reached into his pocket and pulled out a rather large hole, which he then attached to the side of the box. Trauma was greatly relieved at this because, while it was not quite large enough for him to crawl through, it did permit him to start breathing again (which he did with vigor).
As the bluish tinge left Trauma’s face The Vindicator offered a suggestion.
The Vindicator: “Now that there is a hole in the box, perhaps it will weaken the box enough so that it will break this time if we drop it again.”
Tito: “Works for me.”
Trauma (who could now be heard) began to whimper and gibber and hyper-ventilate and do several other things all at once. Tito ascended the cliff (Kurt) and The Vindicator tied the rope around the box. Once secured, Tito pulled the box back up the cliff (Kurt) and, with a broad grin on his face, dropped it off the edge of the cliff (Kurt) once again.
Had he been asked, Trauma couldn’t have commented on the fact that he was currently accelerating at a rate of 9.6 metres/second per second (yes, that is the correct formula), but he certainly appreciated the effect of smashing into the ground. The invisible box shattered and millions of invisible shards could be heard smashing into billions of smaller invisible shards against the rocks. Trauma stood up (a little dazed, but alive) and merely said “Skiddlily Wah-wah!”
Black Widow walked by, said “Hello.” and continued to walk by, cuz she asked for a cameo.
[writer: The Vindicator – Have you filled out your registration card?]
Standing tied to the invisible tree with invisible rope, THE Dragon looked grim. He kept thinking to himself “I’ll make them pay…make them ALL PAY!” To whom he meant, no one could be sure.
THE Dragon: Hey guys! Get yer butts over here and mime untying me!
Vindicator slapped his forehead. “Of course!” He started walking towards THE Dragon but Tito stopped him.
Tito: I’m in command here! Not chump tied to the no-tree!
Tito: Get your butt over there and mime untying him!
Soon THE Dragon and C-9 were free. Now to get Trauma back up the Cliff(kurt).
Vindicator: Shall we just pull him up with the rope?
Tito: No. That’s too easy. lemme think a bit….
Tito: I got it! Get me that invisible rope!
They searched around the immediate area but could not seem to find the invisible rope. They decided not to tell Trauma and fake it. They shouted down to Trauma and mimed and idea of climbing using the invisible rope. Trauma nodded and mimed the catching of the rope, then made his trek up the cliff(Kurt). Upon reaching the top he breathed a sigh of relief.
Trauma: Thanks guys.
Trauma: I know.
They all looked towards the Greenish city and decided that’s where they should go. THE Dragon looked around and picked up a solid-looking stick for a club and started tapping it in his hand, all the while muttering “They’ll pay…all of them…”
Vindicator: What’s he saying?
Trauma: I think he’s read the Punisher Chapter in that book of his…
Vindicator just raised an eyebrow and they started their journey to the greenish city….
And so past fields and meadows and sunny valleys they trudged. Far behind them the small village of midgets and their damaged TARDIS. Somehow they all seemed to sense the end, and it lies withing the emerald city. They walked on silently, reflecting on their past adventurers, distant and more recent. Soon they would be going home.
In the epic origins of these Adventures it had been Trauma and Tito, blazing a path through time and folklore. Becoming legends from the day they walked down that wind-swept street, on that dark and stormy night. Accompanied by various adventurers; Goliath, Pelane, Buster Bunny… Facing demons in subterranean realms, falling through the blackness of time to face the ghosts of Christmas, and travel to the ends of space as space pirates.
In time new adventurers came forth; Vindicator, Dragon and Blade… they battled societies greatest obstacles and England’s most dastardly heroes and villains. Now they have hurtled through time and space to arrive at Oz. Their journey is almost at an end…
In no time the Trio of four adventurers plus their mechanical chicken C-9 arrived at the gates. A commotion behind the gates stopped them in their tracks. Swinging inward, a gruff voice shouted. “… and stay out you wide-eyed, slack-jawed bowery-bum wanna be!” And with a mighty punt out bounced Blade! (hows that for our second cameo?)
[writer: TRAUMA – Tito… you have the floor.]
[ Ok, here’s the conclusion (and it’s a whopper) ]
After only enough time to briefly exchange greetings, the munchkin Stasi quickly hustles Blade out of the Emerald City.
Now the Trio stood before the great portals of the magnificent palace of the Wizard.
Their breathing quickened in anticipation of everything being put right by the beneficent Wizard. Could this be, at long last, the conclusion of their incredible odyssey that spanned space, time and even across dimensions? Would the Wizard decide to help these intrepid adventurers, who, at the cruel hands of Fate, have had every means of returning home thwarted, and every path strewn with perilous obstacles? Will the peace and sanctuary of home that has been for so long so elusive finally be theirs to enjoy again? Read on, dear readers, for herein these questions shall be answered.
The Trio, including Tito, Trauma, Vindicator, THE Dragon and C-9, stepped toward the gates of the palace when suddenly, they swung open again.
A wagon pulled by a team of white horses sped down the street out of the city. The wagon was itself a large cage and within was a very irate Vladimir Zhirinovsky.
He shook his fist toward the interior of the palace and cursed loudly,”…you bastards! I’ve been thrown out of better places. I’ll nuke you and your little dog, too!”
His ranting did not stop there, but were clearly audible until he was finally out of sight,” I’ll fix all of you midgets. I won’t even drop a single bomb. I’ll just bury all the radioactive waste along the border and then I’ll build huge fans and…” – beyond this, Zhirinovsky’s voice become inaudible.
Intrepidly, our heroes approached the doors of the palace. Instantly they found their way blocked by a dozen finely uniformed munchkin guards.
“Halt, tall, stupid hooligans!” ordered their leader.
In a flurry of motion, Trauma, Tito, THE Dragon and even C-9 were suddenly bristling with weapons, ready for combat. Even C-9 had a retractable gatling-gun turret installed by Vindicator.
Vindicator jumped between the belligerent parties and calmed his friends down,” wait guys, let’s not blow our chance to get out of here. There are also peaceful ways to solve our problems.”
THE Dragon sensed the superiority of this course of action and lowered his yoga-charged arms peacefully. Tito and Trauma were less conciliatory.
“No way,” said Tito.
“Don’t wanna,” reinforced Trauma.
“I get the feeling that you don’t want to end the story with gunplay. I refuse to let it be avoided,” said Tito, crossing his arms stubbornly.
The pair stood sulkingly and adhered to their stubbornness, their weapons still poised for the mass carnage to which they were committed.
“I’ll give you some gruel-flavoured pez from my Freddy Krueger pez-dispenser,” tempted Vindicator.
“Okay,” said Tito and Trauma, lowering their modern implements of destruction.
The munchkins, of course, were not in the least intimidated. Their leader, emboldened by the apparent cowardice of the Trio spoke again,” <SNIFF> Hey, men, I think I smell tall people.”
His comrades laughed while the Trio stood in disbelief. THE Dragon spoke to them, “Was that your best attempt at an insult? Geez, you midgets really ARE lame.”
This blistering verbal assault shut the munchkin guards up.
“Okay, enough of this,” said Trauma,” we want to see the Wizard.”
A panel on the gate opened up to reveal the face of an older munchkin. He spoke:”Someone wishes to see the wizard?”
“Yes we do,” said Trauma.
“Get a haircut, you wild-eyed, slack-jawed bowery bum wannabe,” was the eloquent response.
“Get out of the way,” pushed in Vindicator,” let me handle this.”
“Wait,” he said,” we must see him. He is the only one who can get us home.”
“Tough-titties,” the munchkin replied.
Vindicator continued unperturbed,” Our Tardis broke down and we-”
“A Tardis you say?” interrupted the munchkin, “Well no thanks, you see, we already got one.”
Some snickering was heard beyond the door.
“What?” asked Vindicator.
Dragon answered,”He says they’ve already got one.”
Tito stepped up, “Well, great, do you think you guys could give us a lift then?”
“Of course not, you are a pack of escaped circus freaks. Besides, you’re all foreigners you silly tall dregs of freakdom!” was the reply.
This munchkin was clearly much better at insults.
THE Dragon had a momentary premonition of the Trio being crushed under a catapulted cow. Whether this was another mystical Yoga power or just the ability to spot cheap ripoffs of movies he had seen, he knew he must act on the knowledge gained.
He stepped up to the door and spoke, “We are emissaries that have travelled far in order to secure markets for our most important commodity.”
“And what is that?” asked the munchkin.
Taking one of the canisters of Crisco fixed to the bandolier across Tito’s chest, he held it up to the munchkin and said, “It’s our miracle lotion that when rubbed on the limbs and neck of a midge- er uh, altitudinally challenged individual and it will begin to promote growth within days.”
“Oh boy, let me see it,” said the gatekeeper reaching for it.
“Not so fast,” replied THE Dragon, pulling it away,” if we can’t arrange a trade agreement, we’ll need this to sell for a ether-hound ticket back home.”
Momentarily the gates swung open and Dragon presented the canister to the munchkin.
“Okay, I’ll take you to him,” he said, ushering the heroes to an elevator while feverishly applying Crisco to his neck.
“Oooh,” he said to THE Dragon as the elevator ascended, “I can feel it working.”
Presently, the Trio were ushered into a great hall at the top of the emerald tower. At the far end of the hall, bathed in a green sunlight filtered through the emerald domed ceiling, was a magnificent throne. Seated in the throne was none other than JOHN WAYNE. He was fully dressed in cowboy duds and had his pair of hoglegs at his sides.
He spoke,” I hear you pilgrims’ve been looking for me. Well… here I am.”
“It’s the Duke,” the heroes exclaimed.
“Hey, we’re some of your biggest fans,” said Trauma.
“Not so fast, Cochise. You can’t go around my kingdom slappin’ around my subjects and wrecking haciendas like liquored up Pawnee Injuns and ‘spect me to forget all about it. At least you did crush the power of those goddamned mimes so I guess I’ll let you off and give you guys a wish,” said the Duke.
“One wish each?” asked Tito.
“No, you greedy bushwacker. One for all of you.” said the Duke.
“Ok, we wish for 10 more wishes,” tried THE Dragon.
“Why I oughtta… NO! and it wasn’t even a nice try you lousy snake-oil peddler.”
“Ok, we just wanna get home.” said Vindicator.
“Is that what you all want?” asked the Duke. The others nodded in agreement.
“Good,I was going to kick you all out anyway but now I save having to give a wish. All you have to do to get home is cross that bridge out there,” he said pointing to a rope bridge spanning a patio over a deep crevice.
As they moved to the bridge, Trauma again tried to speak to the Duke, “I’ve seen almost all of your movies-”
“No chitchat, now git before I change my mind,” said the Duke.
The party trudged slowly across the bridge that spanned the gorge. The depths below were concealed by mists. Across the bridge, however was a sight that amazed them. There was a magnificent city of mansions with gold paved rooftops. Lamborghinis, Ferraris and Maseratis lined the streets and scantily clad beautiful women waved and beckoned the Trio over.
“Hehe,” chuckled Tito, “I think the Duke is a nice guy after all. I think he screwed up, but what the hell, this is better.”
“I bet the Duke did this on purpose to reward us,” suggested THE Dragon,” I guess he is a good guy.”
The heroes quickened their pace over the bridge in anticipation of the lives of leisure and ridiculous luxury that awaited them.
However, when they were half-way across the bridge, they heard John Wayne shout, “Ok, boys, cut the lines!” and with that the scene ahead suddenly changed as the mass hologram was switched off. All that lay on the other side was a bleak barren outcropping with a dozen munchkins poised over the lines of the bridge with axes. The Trio attempted to run and fire at them but to no avail. The heroes fell from the collapsing bridge and plummeted into the mists below.
“The Duke’s an Asshole.” exclaimed Vindicator.
“A-S-S-H-O-L-E, he’s an asshole!” chimed in Tito and Trauma as they fell. Their equipment slipped from their grasps as well as much of their equipment.
The party fell for what seemed an eternity. They had almost gotten used to the feeling of weightlessness when suddenly they landed heavily on the respective lawns in front of their homes. As their homes were spread across Burlington and Hamilton, they were out of sight of each other. Each was alone. Eventually they came to and found that no bones had been broken since they landed on snowbanks. Each got up and tried to locate first his weapons and then his friends. To no avail, however, none of their precious hardware was recovered and even C-9 had not fallen with anyone. All of the fantastic possessions were gone and our heroes only had what they had started with plus one minor memento of their great fantastic voyage.
Vindicator found a small paper bag. Opening it, he found jelly-babies and without thinking, he ate them all up before realizing they were his only proof of his trip. “At least I still have the bag,” he said just before a gust blew it from his hand and down the street.
THE Dragon found a back-scratcher inscribed withÿ”To reach the places even Yoga cannot reach. He used it to scratch his back and instantly it snapped into tiny slivers of worthless plastic. Shoddy munchkin workmanship, you know.
Trauma had a great prize. He found a t-shirt that had a map of their trip and said,” I went through space, time and even dimensions and all I got was this crummy shirt,” He quickly ran to show his still sleeping parents (it was now dawn) unfortunately he slipped on some ice and landed in a slush puddle of semi-melted snow. When he got up he saw that the dye used in the shirt was so cheap it was watersoluble,and the map and inscription was irrevocably washed away.
Tito picked up a shiny object half buried in the snow. It turned out to be a water filled glass globe with a depiction of the emerald city where one could simulate snowstorms. Tito looked at it contemptuously and dashed it on the street, smashing it while saying, “What is this? Faggot shit?”
And so, our heroes made it home and miraculously made it on the dawn following their first night of adventure where they hopped aboard the freight train. They had not lost more than an evening and were not frightened from future such trips.
Well there you have it. For all the fans out there… this has been a very interesting tale. THE GREATEST ADVENTURE EVER TOLD maybe concluded, but we are far from finished.
[writer: TRAUMA – Groovy, 10/03/94]