GIRLS WITH GUNS, or how many Ping-Pong balls can I fit in my mouth?

The Improbable Adventures of Improfanfic's Co-Mascots
Started By: David Kelk

This Chapter was Written by Aaron Shattuck and _barely_ edited by 
Chippy the Transvestite Gnome

Hosted at: Improfanfic, http://www.pixelscapes.com/improfanfic/

Episode Five: Public Service Announcement

Warning: This part contains scenes of graphic violence and needless 
cruelty, which can be a great ice breaker at parties.

Author's Note:
You can't fool me, you know. I know you were there... laughing at me. 
Well, we'll see who laughs in the end.

***

	Aki stared, her mouth agape in shock. Before her stood Aikan 
Nadakai, well known star of the acclaimed television program, "Doki 
Doki Kokoro". And behind her... was everyone. Everyone in the entire 
world. They glared at her with silent hatred, as they slowly, 
deliberately, strapped on their thick, red 
boxing gloves.
	"So," chuckled Aikan Nadakai, smiling with dark amusement, "do 
you really think you can take us _all_ on?"
	It wasn't long before Aki started to scream.

***

	It was in Ribetsu-sensei's Literature class that Aika discovered 
that it was Tuesday, despite previous evidence that it was Thursday.
	As usual, Ribetsu-sensei was screaming about his ex-wife 
(Ribetsu-sensei's ability to turn a discussion on literature, any 
literature, into a rant about his ex-wife, was legendary.) Naturally, 
few people ever bothered to pay attention to the sad little man, and 
Aika was certainly not one of them. Lazily, she scanned the room for 
something interesting enough to hold her attention for the remaining 
twenty minutes of class time. A dirty word written on the spine of a 
textbook... or a spider's web in Ribetsu-sensei's "World's Best 
Teacher" mug, say.
	What she found instead, however, was a calendar. Little red "x"s 
marked off the days that had previously been, and the last of those was 
clearly "Monday".
	"And if that _bitch_ thinks that I'm going to pay anymore 
alimony, she can just...!" 
	"Ribetsu -sensei!" Aika cried, suddenly bolting to a standing 
position, and slamming her hands upon the desk.
	Ribetsu-sensei froze mid-sentence and stared at Aika with growing 
horror. He was almost completely certain that she was one of his ex-
wife's lawyers in disguise (granted, he thought the same about at least 
half his class) and she had heard every word that he had said!
	"I... I didn't really mean it," he squeaked, backing to the wall. 
"I... I'm going to pay... I swear it!"
	"Is it Tuesday?"
	"Um...," the petrified teacher faltered, "... yes?"
	"Oh... I was wondering," Aika slumped back down in her chair, 
looking as confused as if he had told her that, yes, this _was_ 
National Purple Hippopotamus Day. Duh!
	Ribetsu-sensei devoted the rest of the class to expounding on the 
virtues of his ex-wife.
	
***

	"But... it can't be Tuesday!" Becky exclaimed. "You saw the 
paper, it's Thursday!" 
	Following school, Aika had immediately gone to Becky's house with 
the news of her discovery.  Now, as they sat on the lovely, overstuffed 
couches of Anderson family's living room, Aika was finding her friend 
far more difficult to convince of the situation than she had been.
	"Everyone I asked said it's Tuesday," she shrugged, idly thumbing 
through Becky's mother's reports on failed Castro assassination 
attempts. "Maybe it was a misprint... or maybe that was last Thursday's 
paper."
	Becky was beginning to get very tired of this sort of thing. 
First it was Tuesday, then it turned out that it was Wednesday, but now 
it was Tuesday again! It made her want to destroy things and jump on 
someone's groin.
	"Why would they deliver last Thursday's paper?!"
	"I'm just as confused as you are," Aika admitted, continuing to 
read the reports. Exploding dog? She thought. What were they thinking?! 
"You wanna check out 'Half Lives' again, just in case?"
	"Yeah, sure," sighed Becky. If nothing else, maybe she could hurt 
someone again.

***

	Mr. Sunshine giggled with glee, as he somehow forced his five-
hundred pound body to prance about the room.
	Mr. Sunshine was not, in any sense, an attractive man. His face 
and entire body, the shape of which can only be described as 
"spherical," was covered in more or less equal parts thick, curly black 
hair, acne, sweat, and warts. This situation was made all the more 
worse by his steadfast refusal to wear anything but a pair of yellowed 
briefs and broken, horn-rimmed glasses. Fortunately for the good of 
society at large, he never left his room under any circumstances. The 
closest he ever came to human contact, was spying on his neighbor 
Becky, through the peep-hole he had made in the wall. Which he had, 
in fact, been doing mere moments before he began to prance around.
	She was home! He had been very worried when she hadn't come home 
until extremely late the previous night. He was afraid she was gone for 
ever and ever. That she had been taken by the demons that he knew lived 
beyond his walls, and he would never see her again. But she had come 
home! And in the morning, like every morning, he had played his special 
music just for her. And in reply she had tapped, in Morse code, as she 
always did, those special words, "I L-O-V-E Y-O-U."
	Mr. Sunshine didn't really know Morse code, but he was positive 
that that was what she was doing.
	Straining to suppress his mirth, Mr. Sunshine once again bent 
down to stare through the peep hole.
	She was gone.
	She was _gone_!
	Shrieking like a mad little girl, Mr. Sunshine blindly flailed 
about the room. Finally slipping in a pool of some sort of fluid and 
landing on one of the many piles of his precious albums and blurry 
photographs of Becky taken through the peep hole.
	Mr. Sunshine wept pathetically, his body fat melting over the CDs 
and photos. Why? Why did they torment him so?!
	He'd have to fight back.... Yes, he wouldn't take this lying 
down. And soon... soon his beautiful virgin bride would be his.
	Wiping the drool from his lips, Mr. Sunshine began to plan...

***

	As it turned out, both Tuesday and Thursday was "Quadriplegic 
Night" at "Half Lives". Aika and Becky entered to find a veritable sea 
of wheel-chair bound swinging singles laughing, talking, and every once 
in awhile taking sips of their drinks with the aid of their helper 
monkeys.
	"Now you really _promise_ not start a brawl this time?!" called 
the bouncer from beyond the doorway.
	"Yeah, yeah," muttered Becky, waving her hand in casual 
dismissal.
	A quick inspection revealed Cthulhu to be, once again, 
conspicuously absent. Though they did find Azathoth who, as it turned 
out, had gotten into a car accident a month previous and was now a 
quadriplegic, himself. Unfortunately, he had no idea of the whereabouts 
of his former colleague, and was a colossal bore besides, willing to 
talk about nothing but the new "Star Wars" film.
	"I told you it was Thursday," grumbled Becky, trying to ignore 
the advances of yet another handicapped, would-be Lothario.
	"I was so sure we'd find him this time," Aika sighed, running her 
hands over the nuclear device in her jacket pocket. Suddenly, she 
brightened up. "Wait! He could be in the bathroom!"
	Becky thought a moment. As much as she did _not_ want to find out 
what exactly Cthulhu _did_ in the bathroom, she had a feeling her 
newfound friend would not be content until they checked. 
	"Oh, all right," she finally conceded, roughly picking up her 
unwanted suitor and throwing him to the ground. "Let's go give it a 
look."
	Aika beamed with hope, and the two borderline psychotic 
companions made their way towards the bathroom, leaving the poor 
paraplegic man to lie helpless upon the floor.
	"Help!" he gasped. "Please... someone...!" 
	Finding his pleas unanswered, the man began to cry.
	The helper monkeys pointed at him mockingly, and chattered in 
delight.

***

	Dr. Nairyoku clucked his tongue sympathetically as he observed 
the screaming, broken thing that, according to the reports the police 
had given him, was named "Aki Villyn". Aki was bound firmly in a 
straight-jacket, her ability to flail and beat herself against the wall 
further restrained by the two burly orderlies who held her fast between
them. Still, her mouth was unbound, and her head remained relatively
free, which she took full advantage of, screaming at the top of her
lungs and thrashing her head this way and that.
	"Get away! Get away _all of you_!" she shrieked, specks of foam 
running down the sides of her mouth. In her mind, yet another flurry of 
viscous punches shot towards her face.
	"How unfortunate," sighed Dr. Nairyoku. "Especially for one so 
young... Still, it's not too surprising... Her family has something of 
a history, after all."
	"Where do you want her, doc?" asked one of the orderlies, the 
slightly less muscular of the two.
	"We still have to reach her father...," muttered the overworked 
director of Arkham Asylum, as only one who has heard Serendipity 
Nemesis Villyn's fifteen minute long answering machine recording far 
too many times can. "I guess we'll put her in the cell next to 
Kurasaka-san's, until then."
	"He the one who keeps escaping to go drinking in bars? The one in 
the tuxedo?"
	"Yes," answered the good doctor, already feeling yet another 
migraine coming on, "that's the one."

***

	Weaving their way through clumps of wheel-chairs, Aika and Becky 
finally reached the bathroom door. Reaching for the handle, Becky 
silently prayed that they wouldn't find Cthulhu doing something utterly 
disgusting inside. Meanwhile Aika found herself wondering if perhaps 
those two guys who were lying in the room the previous night, would be 
there once again. They seemed like the types who would.
	Opening the door revealed that those two guys (being Rents and 
Si, respectively) were, in fact, in the room once again. Only much more 
so than last time. Bits of the two lay strewn about the floor, a leg 
here, and arm there, all floating (not unlike lonely sausages in a 
plate of tomato sauce) in an ever widening pool of blood. Still, the 
upper halves of both remained more or less recognizable, being that 
everything from the chest up (save Rent's left arm) remained more or 
less attached where it was supposed to be. Of course, those parts could 
hardly be called fully intact, as they all had their fair share of 
deep, messy gashes. Amongst this gruesome display sat a single figure 
who, calmly, with the air of an accountant reading the morning paper, 
was wriggling a single rib from the lower opening in Si's chest cavity.
	The thing was clothed in a brown, battered hat and a ragged, tan 
trench-coat. It appeared almost human in shape, for it knelt upright, 
upon two legs, and seemed about the height of the average man. Also, it 
possessed two, five fingered hands, both of which were blessed with a 
thumb. But those hands were hairy, with black claws upon the tips of
their fingers, and it's head was, horrifyingly, that of an ugly, snarling
dog. Slowly, it looked up from the two corpses and fixed both Aika and
Becky with a mad, triumphant glare.
	"Why, hello there," it greeted them, in a low growl that sounded 
like Tom Waits with a mouth full of sand.
	"You... killed them," replied a very shocked Aika, who was 
wondering just where Si's foot had gone off to.
	"They were very bad drug addicts," explained the dog-thing, 
gesturing towards the needles that still lay embedded in its victims' 
eye-balls. "Users are losers and losers are users!"
	Aika and Becky could only stare as it cackled madly, throwing 
globs of organs into the air. Then suddenly, it stopped and gave them 
as friendly a look as such a thing could possibly have (which is to 
say, not very friendly at all.)
	"I'm McGruff," it introduced itself, extending a bloody claw for 
a handshake. Realizing, after a few seconds, that the claw would not be 
taken, it put it back down again and looked at the two stunned 
schoolgirls with contemplation.
	"Say," it mused, "you girls look like good, responsible citizens. 
Maybe you'd like to help me take a... heh heh... _bite_ out of crime!"
	McGruff emphasized its point by chomping down on Rent's neck with 
its sharp, jagged incisors. Shaking its head to and fro, the hellish 
dog beast finally managed to tear a large chunk of flesh from the 
former junkie's neck and swallow it whole. Smacking the blood from its 
lips with great pleasure, McGruff turned back to its audience of two.
 	"So, what do you say?" it asked, grinning widely with deadly, 
blood stained teeth.

***

	"Let's just drop this thing!" suggested Becky. "It's beginning to 
really stink!"
	Both Aika and Becky walked slowly through the local park, their 
movement greatly hampered by the bullet ridden corpse of McGruff the 
Crime Dog, held between them. They had hoped to sell the thing to a 
taxidermist or maybe a freak show, but it appeared that both those 
respected institutions had yet grace their fair town.
	"Yeah, I guess you're right," Aika acceded, letting go of the 
ugly thing's arm. "A taxidermist probably wouldn't want it, anyway... 
It's too full of holes."
	Becky nodded in agreement, letting go of the other arm and 
allowing the deceased canine to fall roughly upon the lovely green 
grass.
	"Well," Becky reflected, breathing in the fresh park air, "we 
didn't find Cthulhu, but at least we got to shoot something."
	"Yeah," agreed Aika. "Too bad about those two guys, though. They 
could speak Japanese with Scottish accents, you know. No quotation 
marks, either. It was the darndest thing..."
	"Oh, did you know them, then?"
	"No... not really."
	An uncomfortable lack of speech or action followed for the next 
few seconds.
	"Well," Aika suggested, breaking the silence, "I guess we'd 
better get going. I think I have some sort of homework to do or 
something... I'm really not sure."
	"Yeah, there's this new anime I got that I still haven't watched 
yet," Becky agreed. "'Cereal' something..."
	A decision reached, they both turned around and walked back down 
the path and out of the sight of the few flies that had begun to buzz 
about McGruff's festering corpse. 
	For a long time, all was, save for those flies, still and quiet 
in the park.
	But then the sound of soft footsteps could be heard, and three 
unlikely figures came down the path, approaching McGruff's still form.
	Two of them were nervous, timid looking children (one girl, and 
one boy), appearing to be about ten years old. Each carried a black 
garbage bag and between them, walked a giant owl. At least six feet 
tall, the monstrous thing wore a green felt "Peter Pan" hat, with a red 
feather stuck in the brim, and below that were eyes both large and 
cruel.
	The mammoth owl stopped in its tracks, the two children following 
suit.
	"Well, well," it wondered aloud, in a grating, unearthly, high-
pitched shriek of a voice. "What do we have here?"
	"W-what is it, Woodsy?" asked the boy, grasping his garbage bag 
in tight, sweaty hands.
	"It appears that some delinquent has thrown his trash in the 
middle of our beautiful park, young Ejiki-kun," answered Woodsy, a hint 
of deep loathing entering its horrible voice.
	The massive bird of pray bent down, inspecting the bloody corpse 
carefully.
	"Why, it's my old rival, McGruff!" it declared, with much 
surprise. "Now doesn't that just beat all! Still, it figures. He was 
always weak and stupid... No sense of proper priorities at all!"
	Woodsy raised up from the remains of McGruff, and paced around it 
thoughtfully.
	"Ah well...," it pronounced, finally stopping, "you'd better 
start cleaning up, Ejiki-kun."
	The young boy nodded and silently went to work, carefully 
removing pieces of McGruff and dropping them in his garbage bag. Later, 
of course, he'd have to wash each blade of grass individually, but for 
now the work was fairly easy, and Ejiki was glad of that. 
	So wrapped up was he in such thoughts, that the boy did not 
notice that the top button of his shirt was becoming dangerously loose. 
Encouraged by his movement, it drifted farther and farther down the 
string that held it to his shirt, until it finally escaped its cloth 
prison and fell gently... to the ground.
	Ejiki snatched it up immediately, praying that Woodsy hadn't 
noticed.  But Woodsy always noticed.
	Ejiki looked back to see his avian master shaking its head in 
disappointment.
	"N-no Woodsy... It... it was an accident! I... I  picked it up! 
See?!" Ejiki thrust the button before him, as if it were some magical 
talisman that would protect him from his lord's wrath.
	"Ejiki, Ejiki, Ejiki," Woodsy chided, extending its wings to 
their full, terrifyingly long diameter and raising a single, scaly leg 
up high. "What do I always tell you?"
	Sharp talons glinted in the moonlight. Ejiki whimpered, his mind 
filled with nothing but white, stark terror. A stream of urine began to 
run down his pant's leg.
	"Give a hoot," whispered the wise old owl. "Don't pollute."

***

	"Say," wondered Aika as they walked through the darkened streets, 
not yet forced to part in order to reach their respective homes, "did 
we ever figure out if it was Thursday or Tuesday?"
	"No," scowled Becky, "we didn't. And frankly, I don't care 
anymore."
	They walked on in silence, passing a group of sleeping homeless 
men in an alley. One of them, a particularly large fellow with a hat 
pulled down low on his head, got up as they walked by and began 
hobbling towards them, a stack of newspapers held beneath his arm.
	"Oh great," muttered Becky, stopping as they noticed the man 
approach. "You got a quarter, Aika?"
	Aika shook her head and soon after, the large bum finally reached 
them. 
	"Buy a 'StreetWise'?" he mumbled, timidly offering the sad, 
crumpled homeless-aide paper in a huge, meaty green hand.
	Green hand?
	Aika looked at the hand closer. No, there was no denying it, it 
was definitely green. This, perhaps, could be attributed to a 
particularly poor complexion (the natural result of living on the 
streets for an extended period of time), but upon closer inspection, 
other odd aspects about the man became readily apparent.
	For starters, he smelled like fish, and not fresh fish, either. 
More like bloating, weeks old fish carcasses floating on the surface of 
the ocean; too far gone for even the most desperate seagull to consider 
a palpable meal. On top of that, his face was completely inscrutable, 
hidden beneath an irregularly long and black shadow produced with the 
aid of the filthy fedora. Even the shape of his face was a complete 
mystery, though, if one strained their eyes hard enough in the gloom, 
the outline of his beard could just barely be discerned. The hairs of 
it clumped together in long, thick tendrils, that hung independent from 
each other like the tentacles of a small...
	"Wait a minute!" Aika cried, leaping an impressive distance 
skyward, and knocking the strange man's hat right off with a well-
placed kick. The fedora fell in the gutter with a timid "plop",  and 
without it, the unfortunate man's face was displayed clearly for all to 
see.
	"I _knew_ it!" cried Aika, landing by Becky and pointing to the 
man's strange, octopus-like visage.
	Damn it, thought Cthulhu, all hopes of scoring enough cash for 
some nice, cheap, "Thunderbird" wine dashed to dust.

***

	Woodsy carefully held the last of the wet, red, squishy bits in 
its ghastly claw. Ever so gently, it brought them to the mouth of the 
shiny black garbage bag and dropped them in. All around the park, the 
grass appeared green, and lush, and completely unsoiled. Nowhere could 
even the most thorough investigator find any hint that it had once been
blemished by rotting, dead things.
	"Well then, Hekieki-chan," the giant bird declared, nodding in 
satisfaction, "now that we're done with that, let's see if we can't 
find those naughty liter-bugs!"
	Woodsy offered the young girl a long, terrible wing, and she took 
it in her hand; forcing a grin upon her face and trying, with all her 
might, to forget that she once knew a boy named Ejiki.

***

Author's Afterward


Everything about McGruff the Crime Dog and Woodsy Owl is true. And I'm 
afraid they're not alone. Even as you read this, our country is slowly 
being devoured by the maniacal ambitions of twisted, homicidal public 
service mascots. Obviously, we can't look to the government or the 
media for help, considering they've pretty much been in on it from
the get go. And when both the government and the media are against you,
as I'm sure you well know, there's really only one thing you can do.
I'm still scouting for a good, large, empty track of land to start
building the fortification and will begin recruitment efforts shortly 
thereafter. 


Aaron's e-mail
	dilandau2@hotmail.com

Aaron's page
	http://www2.crosswinds.net/~floot/

McGruff's page
	http://www.mcgruff-safe-kids.com/index.html

Woodsy's page
	http://www.fs.fed.us/spf/woodsy/