I honestly don’t have many regrets. If I did have to choose the biggest one, it is, in fact, not finishing this series. I did work on “Episode 3″, but never picked it up again. I mean honestly, I missed out on so much like “You’re doing a good job, Brownie” and Dick Cheney shooting his friend in the face. I couldn’t recognize a good thing when it was right there in my face.
Roswell, New Mexico — 20:00
There is a black building, surrounded by nothing, but desert. A sign outside the building reads ‘Area 51 Arcade’. Odd sounds come from inside the building.
Area 51 Arcade, Roswell, New Mexico — 20:01
Linalin, who is wearing a black suit and glasses, is standing in front of a ‘Space Invaders’ machine.
Area 51 Arcade, Roswell, New Mexico — 22:00
Linalin is still standing in front of ‘Space Invaders’.
Area 51 Arcade, Roswell, New Mexico — 23:59
Linalin steps away from ‘Space Invaders’ and walks outside.
Area 51 Arcade, Roswell, New Mexico — 24:00
Linalin looks up at the sky. A yellow moped is descending. She smirks. “So she’s come”. The girl pulls out an unusual looking gun and shoots it directly above her. Her neon pink symbol appears with the words ‘I hereby give my permission to allow you to read my Excel Saga fanfic’, then fades, as does the scene.
All is dark. Two green lights shine. Then two men appear with microphones and begin to sing….
This is screwed up,
Screwed up is this,
The world is screwed up, but we do nothing at all, it’s politics,
Should we do something,
Something, should we do,
We guess we should, but we get paid to screw up your lives, y’got that right,
Passing laws that make no sense gets tiring,
So instead we’ll start wars until retirement,
Cheating, wheedling, interfering in other countries biz,
Never stopping our investigations even if they bitch,
Then we shred evidence,
Then we shred evidence,
Then we shred evidence,
Then we shred evidence,
Then we shred evidence,
Then we shred evidence,
Then we shred evidence,
Even if we cause people to shed their tears,
We won’t stop, it’s been going on for years,
There will be more scum elected after us, in this dark profession we call politics.
“Hail, Lord Bush!”
“Hmm,” the president looks at the disheveled agents, “Next time be more uki-uki.”
“Uki-uki?”, Powell repeated with confusion in his voice.
“Yes,” the Bush repeated, “uki-uki.”
“Lord Bush, may I inquire the meaning of uki-uki?”
“No Agent Cheney,” their leader said coldly. He continued, “What is the status of yesterday’s mission?”
“Sir, we have successfully acquired a place of residence, but have not yet acquired a part-time job.”
Bush glared at Powell then tugged at the same rope he did the day before. A bucket of water swung down from the ceiling. Instead of spilling water on Powell as intended, the bucket hit Cheney in the head, rendering him deceased. The other two just watched the body lie on the floor, waiting for his heart to start beating again, which it did a minute later.
“Let’s continue. Today, I’ll allow you to break from your previous mission, because today’s mission is much more important. Today’s mission you are to stop Japanies aliens from entering the country. Therefore you will go to Roswell, New Mexico and arrest any Japanies aliens you see. You are now dismissed.”
Powell stood there for a few moments in disbelief, until his partner opened the door and they both left.
The two were now walking down one of the city streets.
“Did that mission make any sense whatsoever?”
“I can’t say it did, Agent Powell.”
“Hey don’t call me ‘Agent Powell’ in public”.
“Oh, why?”
“Someone might find out about ACRIME and what’s the first and most important rule in ACRIME?”
“Don’t talk about ACRIME?”
“Exactly.”
“But, Junior, didn’t we just talk about ACRIME?”
Powell gulped. “Yeah, let’s not anymore.”
A few yards away Janet Reno and company were walking out of Starbucks.
“Oh, good day Miss Reno,” Cheney greeted. Weird pink bubbles surrounded the two.
“Yes it is,” Reno tried to say sweetly with her deep voice. “How are you?”
“I am fine. And yourself?”
“Oh, I’m fine. Would you like me to buy you a coffee?”
“I’m sorry, maybe next time. We must be on our way.”
“Where are you going?”
“To New Mexico.”
“New Mexico. That’s pretty far. Will I see you again?”
“Of course. When I return we can have coffee. See you then.”
“Have a nice trip.” With that, the bubbles disappeared and the agents continued on their way.
Clinton watched the others leave, sipping iced mocha. When they were out of earshot, Clinton jeered,” Yo-ou like him.”
Reno turned around, blushing, and shouted, “No, I don’t!”
Subtitles appeared under Kenneth Starr that read, “It’s obvious.”
“So?” Reno replied.
“So?” Clinton repeated with a huge smile on his face. “So you haven’t ever had a guy, Janet. We should throw a party!”
Reno grabbed him by the throat and screamed, “I’ll kill you!”
“Junior, why do you think we have to search for Japanies aliens in New Mexico?”
“I have no idea. I don’t even want to know.”
“How are we getting to New Mexico anyhow?”
“Frequent flyer miles. Hmm, do you know what uki-uki means?”
“Can’t say that I do.”
Back at ACRIME headquarters, Bush was searching for the meaning of uki-uki in a Japanese – English dictionary. After realizing that he can’t read in Japanese or English, he put the book away.
“This appears to be our flight, Junior.”
“Hmm it’s a lot smaller than what the credit card company had said.”
The two were standing in front of a brightly colored Cessna. A young woman walked up to them. Her appearance was quite awkward. She was wearing large sunglasses, and a white “daredevil” suit with a matching helmet, which her peach colored hair was protruding from.
“Excuse me, are you the pilot,” Cheney inquired.
“Yep,” the woman answered nonchalantly.
“Good!, “exclaimed Powell, “There seems to be some mix-up in my frequent flyer miles.”
The pilot asked, “Pliers?”
“No, frequent flier miles. You see I was told that they could be used for a commercial airline.”
“Receding hairline?”
Powell who was lost in the conversation questioned, “Are you deaf?”
“Death!?” the woman exclaimed.
“What,” Colin replied.
The pilot answered, “Noodles?”
“How in the hell did you get noodles?”
“I’m hungry and you’re boring, so hurry up and get in, before I decide not to take you.”
“Erm, ok.”
“Junior, do you think we should leave Barney alone in the apartment? He has no food or water.”
“He’ll be fine. He’s just a dog.”
Growls resounded through out the apartment. They were not growls of a dog in fear, but rather his stomach. The dog lay on his side, not noticing the evil glares he was receiving from a swarm of cockroaches. The sounds of his hunger were disrupting the book signing of Roach Cock’s “Against All Pesticides.”
“Junior, I think there is something wrong with the pilot.”
“Yeah, me too.”
The pilot was steering the plane with her feet, strumming on an electric guitar, and scatting.
“La la, this place sucks, aren’t any bishi drunks.
No FLCL, no pervy pervies.
Yukimura’s fine, wish he were mine.
Noodles are good, as they should.
Wrestling’s cool, people get schooled.
Dailly Show is awesome, Jon Stewart is rockin.
Love Queer as Folk, Hal Sparks sexuality is just a joke.
FF7’s the best game, all the others are just lame.
This is so boring, so not enjoying.
Buri Guri, FLCL, all fun.
Screw this, flight’s done. See ya.”
Without warning, the pilot opened the cockpit door and jumped out. Powell jumped into the abandoned seat and looked down. The pilot was windsurfing on her guitar with a parachute that read ‘FLCL’.
“Wow, she’s really talented,” remarked Powell who was still admiring the pilot. Sirens started going off and lights began flashing, bringing him back to this reality. Powell began his bitchy screaming.
“AH, WE’RE GOING TO DIE!!!”
Powell looked behind him to find out that Cheney was already dead, causing him to scream more. The plane went into a nosedive.
The Powell Saga Logo appears and the logo background music plays. “Yay, they’re dead!” said Linalin. The audience cheers. The logo background music stops and then plays again. “Sorry, I lied.” The audience boos, the music stops, and the logo disappears.
“Junior, wake up…Junior.”
Powell opened his eyes, sat up, and continued his screaming. They were lying on the side of a road. A sign above them read : Welcome to Roswell…Population – Unknown.
“Junior, there is no need for your screaming.” Powell shut up.
“How are we still alive, Cheney?”
“This I do not know. I fainted and when I awoke we were here with this letter.” Cheney pulled a letter from his breast pocket. Powell snatched it.
“What is this?” He began to read…
Thank the gods, you finally shut up, woman! You’re annoying as hell! I should’ve let you die, but I didn’t. If there’s one thing I hate more than stupid politicians, it’s stupid deaths. The whole scene was stupid! To make up to the fanfic viewers, I decided to keep you alive, so I can atone for what I’ve done in future chapters.
~The Author
“What’s a fanfic?” Powell questioned, handing the letter back to his partner.
Cheney looked over the letter and replied, “I do not know.”
“So, where do you think we should look for aliens?”
“There’s more to the letter, Junior.” Powell took back the letter and read…
P.S. – Dear sweet Trunks, I can’t believe you just said that! Ever heard of Area-51, you moron?
Powell crinkled the letter and dropped it. “Where do you think this Area-51 is?”
“Perhaps we should ask someone.”
“Wow, this town is weird,” said Powell looking around. “It looks like the sci-fi convention from hell.” Aluminum foil covered many windows and weird homemade machines lined the streets. Cheney walked up to a building and knocked on a door.
“What species may ye be” asked a voice on the other side.
“We are humans,” was Cheney’s response. The door opened. A ‘husky’ man stepped out. He had thick black unwashed hair and wore very thick-lensed glasses, a metallic spacesuit, and a spaghetti strainer on his head.
“Holy shit,” Powell breathed.
“What is it that ye humans or aliens dressed in human skins want,” questioned the man.
“We were wondering where Area-51 is.” Cheney answered.
The man’s eyes widened. “It is there,” he said pointing to a black building less a mile away, “I can tell you no more.” He slammed the door.
“What was with him?” Powell asked.
“I have no idea, Junior.”
They walked to the building.
“Area-51 Arcade,” the vice president read from a sign.
“Arcade? If possible, this got even weirder.” Powell opened the door. They were met with bright flashing colors and loud sounds. Surprisingly, there were no people, only lights and usual arcade games. They stepped inside. “Well, I don’t see any aliens.”
“Nor do I, Junior, but let’s play.”
“Might as well, this mission is a lost cause.” Powell walked up to a Pacman machine. “Hey, these machines don’t need credits!”
Powell had some experience with Pacman. He had played with Bush before, but still it was gameover within ten minutes. Powell had played and lost to nearly every game in the place, when Cheney collapsed in front of the ‘Space Invaders’ he had been playing for the past hour. His partner kneelt beside him until he was revived.
“Ok, that death was absolutely pointless.”
“Oh please forgive, I was very shocked that I had beaten my own record.” Powell stood up and checked Cheney’s score.
“5,000,000 that’s nothing. I can probably beat that.” Powell started the game. He moved to the very edge of the screen, but shot too quickly and was shot and destroyed instead.
“You have to hide behind those things,” instructed Cheney pointing to one of the mounds. Powell did as he was told, but didn’t move from behind it. The mound was destroyed as he was.
His losing horrible playing continued until gameover. When the words appeared, the floor below them jolted, then descended.
“Cheney, what did you do?” Powell questioned, eying his partner suspiciously.
“Honestly, I did nothing, Junior.”
The floor ceased descension minutes later. They were entrapped in a small steel room with nothing in it except them, a light fixture, and door without a handle. The place they had arrived from was no longer visible.
“So, where the hell are we?” Powell pushed on the door, but it was locked.
“China, perhaps.”
“You think so, Cheney?”
“I am not certain. Lord Bush has often talked about digging a hole to China.”
“Hmm, if that’s the case, I want to get some of those dumpling things. Those are good.”
The door without a handle opened and flooded the room with light. A figure in a biohazard suit stepped into the entrance. Powell started screaming.
“You really don’t have to scream, you know.” The figure removed his head gear.
Cheney dropped to the floor and bowed. Powell stopped screaming when he saw his partner’s actions.
“What are you doing?”
“Junior, haven’t you know any idea who that is?”
Powell looked at the smirking man, then back at Cheney. “Uh, no.”
“It’s the great Spock!”
Powell looked at the man. “Who?”
The man lifted his hand in Spock-fashion, ”My codename is Leonard Nemoy. I come in peace. I head up the Area 51 extraterrestrial project. And you are?”
“Colin Powell.”
“Dick Cheney.”
Powell questioned, “How did we get down here?”
“You got through our security, by scoring the nearly impossible zero on Space Invaders. If you didn’t do it on purpose, you must be one pretty bad gamer.”
Powell slouched. “So, why you come here?”
“We’re on a mission,” replied Cheney.
“What kind of mission?”
“Bush sent us here to look for some aliens.”
“Bush…you don’t mean President Bush, do you?” They both nodded.
“Things surely must have changed on the surface. Bush’s terms should have ended eight years ago.”
“Please forgive us for not specifying great one, it his son who is in office now.” Cheney said bowing.
“Oh? Pardon me, they don’t let us out very often, once every twenty years to be exact, except for all those Star Trek conventions. Anyhow, what type of aliens are you looking for we have Ctarl-Ctarl, Jurian trees, Cabbits, Puchuus, Saiyans, Namekians, a Mu that’s been encrypted in…”
Powell interrupted, ”Japanies. Japanies aliens.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve never heard of Japanies aliens. We’ll keep an eye out for them though. Do you need anything else?”
“A way home,” Powell answered.
“No problem, I’ll beam you up now.” Nemoy raised his hand and the two disappeared in a beam of light, then emerged in their apartment.
“What in the hell just happened?”
“I don’t know, Junior.”
“Turn on the light. I can’t see anything.”
Cheney flicked the switch. Powell began to scream, while Cheney collapsed.
“Shut up,” said a peach haired woman dressed in motorist’s gear.
“Wh-who are you?” Powell asked.
The girl scratched her ear. “This is your pilot speaking. The name’s Raharu.”
“What in the hell are you doing here?”
“It seems I lucked out earlier. For some reason, I came to check if you two have what it takes.”
“Hold on. What?”
The woman took out her guitar, waved it above their heads and began chanting.
“What the hell are you doing to me, lady?” Powell asked, holding his head in pain. A mass in the shape of an egg came out of his head while a ping-pong ball shaped mass came out of Cheney’s. The woman stopped and picked up the objects.
“You guys are useless.”
“What in the hell are you talking about, lady and what in the hell did you do to us?”
“You’re useless,” the woman screamed before walking out. Powell went to the door after her, but she was already on her yellow moped driving down the street. He turned around. Cheney was well again.
“That was nice of her,” Cheney said, “dropping in for a visit.”
“Whatever. This day’s been too weird.”
“I think you’re right, Junior.”
“Well, let’s go to bed, we have to report to Lord Bush in the morning.”
“But Junior, I’m hungry.”
“We have no money, so we can’t get anything. We can eat the dog though.”
Barney shrilly yelped from the back of the apartment. Cheney collapsed again.
“Damn it, dead again.”
Text appeared…
Episode 2
Aliens Exist
Today’s Experiment… Failed
The text faded.
A light shines upon a miniature music sheet stand and a miniature microphone, while music plays and snow falls. Barney walks up to the microphone and adjusts it and begins to sing. His yelps are translated by Gary Coleman, who appears in a blue bubble to the side of him. Gary Coleman reads…
I’ve known this all along,
You never cared about me at all,
You gave me away as if you didn’t care and then called me food,
It hurts so much to think about it,
Not what you did to me, but rather the person you are,
If I see you again I won’t tell you how I feel,
Instead I’ll tell the truth to the media, you bastard.
Gary Coleman disappears. The dog knocks over the microphone and pisses on it. Red curtains with yellow trim close Barney’s performance.
A fake 20th Century Fox credit appears, as does a bubble containing Linalin. She says…
Hey there, everyone! Thanks for the 2 reviews! I’m glad someone read it. In response to your questions, John, I must say that, sorry not drinking anything, although I definitely should be if I’m able to write this, and come on who else can fill Il Pallazzo’s shoes and screw everything up. This chapter was a fun one to write. The only apologies I have to make this time are to residents of Roswell, New Mexico, and Leonard Nemoy. Yeah, sorry. Today’s anime cameo was Haruko from FLCL, also known as Raharu. I’m so happy Cartoon Network brought FLCL back (although I have it all on tape)! There’s a hidden message in this chapter about politicians, but I doubt anyone short of a FLCL otaku will discover it. Hey what’s that sound?
“Nyao!” A cabbit jumps into Linalin’s bubble.
Ah cabbit! Run away! Run away!
Linalin starts running in and out of the bubble.
The next episode is “Get a Job!”. Please, Review! Review! Review!
