CHIBI-OF-THE-MONTH CLUB (Our Motto: "READ OUR FICS! OR YOUR LIFE IS FORFEIT!") PRESENTS... Controversial Jack and the Temple of DOOM Episode 3: Jack vs Some Guy with an Accent By Demented "Demota" Otaku -=- Controversy \Con"tro*ver`sy\, n.; pl. Controversies. [L. controversia, fr. controversus turned against, disputed; contro- = contra + versus, p. p. of vertere to turn. See Verse.] 1. Contention; dispute; debate; discussion; agitation of contrary opinions. Jack \Jack\ (j[a^]k), n. [Pg. jaca, Malayalam, tsjaka.] (Bot.) A large tree, the Artocarpus integrifolia, common in the East Indies, closely allied to the breadfruit, from which it differs in having its leaves entire. The fruit is of great size, weighing from thirty to forty pounds, and through its soft fibrous matter are scattered the seeds, which are roasted and eaten. The wood is of a yellow color, fine grain, and rather heavy, and is much used in cabinetwork. It is also used for dyeing a brilliant yellow. -=- Finally, after two whole parts of pointlessness, the door to the Temple of DOOM opened, into a massive underground world of traps, mazes, controversy, and another five parts of pointlessness. Jack smiled as he entered the temple. The Idol of Controversy would be his. And he, being the obvious Controversial Messiah, would be given the power of Infinite Controversy. *SQUEAK* "Why do I want to do this, Mr. Duck?" Jack asked. "Because, without controversy, the world will never change." he explained, becoming strangely serious. "Without controversy, the world never improves. Everything just stays the same. If the duck cannot hatch from it's shell, the duck will die without ever truly being born. We are the ducks; the world is our egg. If we don't break the world's shell, we will die without truly being born. Smash the world's shell, for the Controversialization of the World!" Jack finished, after a great number of dramatic background effects and poses. Jack looked around at the room he had entered. Strangely, the place didn't seem dusty at all. Everything looked a bit too clean and smooth for a temple that was supposed to be older than a spoiled Twinkie. [The author would like to take the time to apologize to Hostess Incorporated. No offense was intended by implying that there are so many preservatives and chemicals in those delightful little sponge cakes with vanilla cream filling that one would have to predate the Tower of Babel before spoiling.] "Wow. This place sure is neat, isn't that right, Mr. Duck?" *SQUEAK* "Yeah! You're right! The walls DO look like they're in an office," Jack remarked. As a matter of fact, it WAS an office. Complete with a desk, and a receptionist, and file cabinets, and everything. It all looked very familiar to Jack compared with all the jungle-stuff he had been wading through lately. Especially the receptionist. In fact, if he hadn't known any better.... "MISS JANE!" Jack exclaimed with glee. The woman(?) in question turned around her posh chair, recognizing Jack in an instant. "Hey Jack! I haven't seen you in a while," Miss Jane greeted. ""What are you doing here?" "Trying to find the Idol of Controversy," Jack stated. "Didn't think you of all people would be working here." "Yeah. After the last fic, I haven't gotten any work. I got an offer here, though. Pretty good. Instead of paychecks, they just let me grab as many gold coins or jewelry or priceless gems as I want. The back room is FILLED with them. Anyway," Miss Jane continued. "Let me check to see if the schedule's free..." she said, filing through some papers. "Ah yes. The maze is still has enough room. Let me buzz you in," Miss Jane pressed a button. A door opened to the left. "Please enter that door." "Thanks Jane!" Jack said as he passed through the door. *SQUEAK* "Thanks for noticing, Mr. Duck." Miss Jane replied. -=- Several hours of exciting trap evasion and maze crawling and intense action later.... Jack leaned against the wall, gasping for breath. *SQUEAK* "I've... *huff* got to rest a bit, Mr. Duck." *SQUEAK* "Sorry, but I'm too exhausted." *SQUEAK* Jack's eyes widened. He dove to the floor, dodging a bullet that flew by dangerously close to his head. He leapt to his feet, looking around for the one who dared to open fire on the Controversial One. "Ve haff been expectink yoo, herr Leeshiass," a voice called out smugly. Jack turned towards the source of the voice. Surprisingly, nobody was there. Or perhaps, not surprisingly. This WAS Jack Lysias after all, and- "Luhk down herr, yoo ingrrete!" ...oops. Oh well. Anyway, Jack looked down. Standing before him was an incredibly short man with a squarish mustache. He wore a black uniform, with a double lightning bolt insignia on it, resembling the letters "SS". He smiled a cruel grin, then readjusted his aim towards Jack. *SLOW MOTION* Jack's eyes widened. His hand clenched into a fist. He brought his hand down. He reached into his belt. He pulled out a stick of gum. He placed it in his mouth. His lower jaw began to move up and down. His glands began to produce saliva in a conditioned response to chewing something. He chewed. He chewed. He chewed. He chewed. The flavor ran out. Jack opened his mouth. He moved his hand into it. He removed the chewed-up gum. He reached towards the gun the midget Nazi was holding. He pushed the gum inside the barrel. He pulled his hand back. *END SLOW MOTION* Jack realized that would have been the perfect opportunity to use his whip. "Damn," He turned his attention towards his assailant, who was still shocked at the shoddy attempt to disable his gun actually working, unaware of the concept of ImproPhysics. "Who are you," Jack questioned the officer. "And how did you get out of Willy Wonka's factory?" "My name," the SS officer seethed. "Ees Faust Von Friedrichschnuedelheimerpfefferman, and dun't make fun off my height!" "... whatever." [The author would like to note that no offense was meant whatsoever to German midgets with really long names. Or against Germans, midgets, or people with really long names. If anyone from the German midgets with really long names community is offended by this, the author apologizes. No offense was intended for long-named German midgets. Except the Nazi ones. If you are a Nazi German midget with a really long name, the author would like to say he thinks you are a poopy-head. Thank you.] Faust scowled at Jack, then smiled in his irredeemably evil way. "Eef yoo do not even vant to lheesten to me, zen perhahps yoo veel be interested to know zat your old friend Imhelda Marcos has a messhage for yoo," he said,tossing Jack an envolope. Jack opened it, and unfolded the paper inside. ============ Jack Lysias, You seek the Idol of Controversy. However, you are not the only one. I too seek the Idol. It is too beautiful an artifact to be wasted on the likes of you. All that you seek, I shall prevent you from gaining. All that you dream of, I will shatter. The promised day approaches... I will DESTROY you, Controversial Jack, and all that you hold dear! Your enemy for life, Imelda Marcos P.S. OOOOOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO! ============ "So Imelda's behind all this..." Jack uttered. He turned his attention away from the paper... crap. Faust wasn't alone. He was accompanied by a large African American man, wearing a football uniform, weilding a large knife, standing in front of a white Ford Bronco. And off to the side, a golf cart. "Allow me too intrhoduce yoo to a co-vorker off mein. I am sure yoo are avare of him alrheady, as he ees vamous een your country. I am prhoud to say zere ees nobody lhike zees in zee Faterlant." Jack blinked. "The... farter-land?" "No! Zee Faterlant!" "You.... ah, never mind," Jack turned his attention towards the new arrival. Faust backed off into the shadows in a mysterious way. *WHU-CRACK* Jack unfurled his whip, ready to use it for the first time in the stupid story. "Before I introduce you to Mr. Knife, I will treat you to... a bowl of my long-forgotten and rather tasty breakfast cereal from the mid-eighties, cleverely named... OJ's!" OJ said, whipping a bowl of cereal and some milk from out of nowhere. "Um... all right." Jack accepted, somewhat unsure of the food. He tasted it. *PHHHHHTTTTTTTT* Jack spit the "cereal" out. Orange citrus flavored cereal.... OJ glared at him. *SQUEAK* "I agree with you, Mr. Duck," Jack said confidently. "It's time to layeth the Controversial Smackdown on this guy." Controversial Jack's battle theme started playing from somewhere. It was extremely similar to another battle theme, but different enough so they couldn't be sued. The chant-esque music began. o/~ Con-tro! Ver-sy! Con-tro! Ver-sy! o/~ Jack and O.J. Simpson paused a bit, then dashed forth into battle... WILL JACK SURVIVE THE BATTLE AGAINST THE JUICE? WHY DIDN'T THE AUTHOR WRITE THE DAMN FIGHT HIMSELF? IS HE COMPLETELY SELFISH, OR JUST PLAIN LAZY? WILL IMELDA MARCOS' PLAN COME TO FRUITION? AND WOULDN'T IT BE MORE CONTROVERSIAL IF THE CONTROVERSIAL MESSIAH WASN'T CONTROVERSIALAT ALL? WHAT NEW ADVENTURES WILL CONTRVERSIAL JACK HAVE IN THE TEMPLE OF DOOM? *shrug* How the hell should I know? I ain't the one writing it. :P Stay tuned!