The Humvee shook and shuddered, causing its passengers to grip any available surface for support. Jack struggled with the wheel, trying to control the beleaguered vehicle amidst the roiling explosions. "Status report!" he shouted. "Metafiction levels are off the scale!" Anne shouted, holding on to the ImproCorder(tm) for dear life. "The fourth wall was completely shattered by that last SI hit!" "Zug zug!" agreed the orc, his meaty paws wrapped around the nearest thing he could grab. This, as it turned out, had been Sable, who was too busy gripping the back of Nuku Nuku's chair to squirm free. "Waahh!" Said catgirl had slid down, cramming herself under the dashboard. "Nuku Nuku is afraid of self-insertion! She's heard about... about... OSCAR!" "Not on *my* watch," Jack growled. "Shields to full, sis! We'll find a way out somehow!" She reached for the controls on the ImproCorder(tm), then stopped. "Shields?! This is a *jeep*, Jack! Wait... what the hell is an ImproCorder(tm) anyway?! What am I doing?!" "Think later! First we need to get somewhere safe!" "There *is* nowhere safe, you idiot!" Sable snapped. "There's nothing out there but utter destruction and formless chaos!" Jack was tempted to make a comment about that not being all bad, but self-preservation came before witty repartee. "If you've got a better idea, I'd love to hear it!" "Well..." *Squeak!* He grinned. "That's it! Great idea, Mr. Duck! Hold onto your butts, people, or at least whatever butts you can reach at this point!" He raised his hand dramatically, then brought it down onto one of the levers on the Humvee's console. The vehicle's left turn signal began to blink and, after checking to make sure he had the right of way, Controversial Jack drove into the cascading madness. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Improfanfic presents... JACK & WHITE a chibific - now with 50% more Apocalypse! by Brian Stricklin Final Chapter: Life, Death, and Wyoming -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- There is a place. A place called... Wyoming. According to all census records, Wyoming is a large state with a population of nearly five hundred thousand. However, in spite of this fact, it is nearly impossible to find anyone that's actually from Wyoming; so much so that anyone who claims to have lived there must certainly be lying to get attention. Therefore, the inherent paradox of a thriving community with no actual people caused Wyoming to bend and twist in on itself, reflecting infinitely through the multiverse. Eventually the combined mass of the Wyomings strained the fabric of reality to the breaking point, and would have annihilated all of existence if, at the precise juncture where space, time, quantum physics, and entropic fluctuation were at their peaks, someone had not plugged in their toaster. In short, the infinite series of states collapsed back in on themselves, dropping out of reality into a place beyond time, beyond change, beyond reason, beyond cheese. Welcome to Recursive, Wyoming. Population: six, give or take a few logically impossible thousand. -=-=-=-=-=-=- In the suburbs of Recursive, in an otherwise uninteresting garage, Jack Lysias reclined on the roof of his trusty Humvee. With a curiously bored expression, he idly flicked Tarot cards across the room into an upturned horned helmet. His accuracy wasn't great, and matters were complicated by the catgirl attempting to catch the cards as they flew past, but since he had an infinite number of them he wasn't too concerned. Flick, flick. The Ace of Cups sailed past Nuku Nuku's eager pounce, only to bounce off the rim of the battered helmet. No trace of disappointment at the near-miss registered on Jack's face, and his repetitive and pointless game continued. Having quickly recognized these symptoms, the diminutive Anne found herself watching him with extreme trepidation; her brother was never quite as dangerous as he was during times like these. Sable, who had less experience with Jack, soon became impatient. "How much longer are we going to stay here?" she demanded. "As long as it takes," he replied without looking at her. After another throw, Nuku Nuku intercepted the Hanged Man, then dropped it with a squeak of surprise. "We can't go anywhere until the fourth wall regenerates itself." "And how long will that be?" He shrugged. "Days. Weeks. Years. Millennia." Sable stared at him. "That long?" "Huh? No, I was just randomly mentioning units of time and a fanservicy demon girl. It shouldn't take more than a couple of hours; the fact that we actually followed the last chapter in a semi-logical fashion probably helped." "Zug zug," the orc agreed. The Creature trainer crossed her arms. "Well, I hope once we leave we'll be heading back to Eden." "Why?" "Why?! You've neglected your duties for far too long! Who knows what sort of danger your followers are in by this time!" "Yeah, but... who cares?" As she stared at him, he flicked the Nine of Wands toward the helmet, and against all probability it landed in the dead center. "Y'see, I've been..." Anne half-covered her ears fearfully. "He's going to say it, he's going to say it..." "...thinking." His sister shuddered. "I mean, quite apart from the fact that nobody cares about the little suckers at this point - least of all the readers - what's the point of being controversial when nearly everyone does what you tell them to do?" With a mischievous grin, Jack tossed the Tower at Sable, where it lodged itself in her cleavage. "Of course, you did great as the token authority figure... but when it all comes down to it, there's not much you can do to stop me from doing what I want." With a scowl, Sable removed the card and ripped it in two. "So what do you intend to do, then?" He shrugged again. "Apart from dressing Mademoiselle Fille de Chat over there in various interesting outfits for the discriminating viewer..." "Wai! Nuku Nuku gets new clothes!" "...I'm coming up empty on ideas." *Squeak?* "Nah, that wouldn't work; it's only Tuesday." "Zug zug?" "I find that's only funny *once*, and then the nuns start to catch on." Giving up, Sable turned her back on the bored god and crossed the garage, sitting down on a crate near Anne's hiding spot. "What did I do to deserve this?" she wondered out loud. "Trust me, it could be worse," Anne assured her. "At least nothing's happening directly *to* you. I'm just surprised that he hasn't stuck me in a little pink maid's outfit by now." "Why would he-?" The diminutive girl held up a hand. "Don't ask. Just... don't." "Right," Jack said loudly, breaking into the argument that had erupted between the orc and Mr. Duck, "I think that ought to take care of it." Anne sighed hopelessly. "And what's your grand plan this time, brother dear?" He grinned maniacally. "This is gonna blow your Barbie-sized socks off, Anne." Jack stood tall on the roof of the Humvee, his spiky red hair brushing the ancient light bulb suspended from the roof. "Ever since attaining this cheap knockoff of a godhead, I've had a lot of laughs tormenting villagers, chasing through various planes of existence, and breaking the laws of reality in lots of new and exciting ways. What I *haven't* done, however, is anything that's particularly controversial." His sister blinked at him. "What?" "Think about it, sis. To his followers, a god's word is law, even if you're a vaguely benevolent god of chaos. You can't be both a force of disorder and the avatar of order. It's like having one bag of Oreos at a Weight Watcher's convention; not enough to go around, and the little black bits get stuck between your teeth. It's just too much for single, solitary me to handle." A sudden sense of doom gripped Anne. "Jack, you're not thinking of-" "Got it in one, sis!" he chirped, his eyes gleaming maliciously. Around his head a fiery, almost demonic aura began to burn, a blazing red halo of pure evil... "Jack, your hair's burning!" "Of course it is! It burns with the fire of GENIUS!" As Nuku Nuku traced a pattern in the air, calling a brief rainstorm down on Jack's head (a trick she learned back in Eden when nobody was paying attention), he powerposed on the Humvee's roof. "For right now I, the so-called 'one and only' Controversial Jack Lysias, am going to -=-=-=-=-=-=-=- But first, a musical intermission. In a scene that has absolutely nothing to do with the prior sequence, which could be a flashback but is most likely a bit of pointless nonsense, Nuku Nuku sat on top of the giant beach ball in the middle of the village. Nobody knew where she got the accordion, but with Jack standing nearby with his Lum-like bolts of divine retribution at the ready, nobody was prepared to ask. With a happy smile, the catgirl played the accordion and began to sing. "Ohhhhhhhhh, You're happy little peasants, But I want you to bring me presents, Because I want me something that tastes so delish. I'll throw you across the valley, And I'll slap you and I'll call you Sally, And I won't let you be 'til you bring me some fish! Eidle Eidle Eee! Eidle Eidle Eee! No I won't let you be 'til you bring me some fish! Ohhhhhhhh, I'll throw you across the valley, And I'll slap you and I'll call you Sally, And I'll make your life hell 'til you bring me some fish!" As Nuku Nuku continued to play, Jack clapped his hands vigorously. "Come on, you loafers! You heard the girl! Move, move, move!" The villagers sighed and began to file toward the local fishing hole; when this seemed to take too long, Jack picked them up one by one and tossed them into the bay. This kind of motivation worked wonders, and before long there was a large pile of fresh (partly twitching) fish before Nuku Nuku. "Wai!" Discarding the accordion, she dived down into the middle of the pile and began to devour the helpless sea life with Cookie Monster-like abandon. The catgirl eventually extracted herself from the sushi feast, rubbing her tummy contently. "That was good!" The villagers breathed a sigh of relief... ...then she picked up the accordion again. "Second verse, not the same as the first! "Ohhhhhhh, The fishies, I ate 'em, Now please hear my words verbatim, 'Cuz I need something now that will make my heart sing. I'll dress you like a swami, And I'll make you surf a tsunami, And I'll bug you 'til I get a big ball of string! Eidle Eidle Eee! Eidle Eidle Eee! Yes, I'll bug you 'til I get a big ball of string! Ohhhhhhhh, I'll dress you like a swami, And I'll make you surf a tsunami, And I'll make your life hell until I get some string!" The villagers (spurred on by Jack's Big Slapping Hand O' Justice), trotted up to the local sheep pen. As Jack looked on, testing the viability of sheep dip as a hair styling aid, the hapless herbivores were grabbed and shorn, then their wool was carded, combed, then spun into long spools of string. Once the string was rolled into a single large ball, as per spec, it was presented to the catgirl with sacred reverence. "Wai!" Nuku Nuku bounced it from one hand to another, then tossed it up and swiped at the ball with one hand. With the force of her android strength, the ball was sent sailing over the nearest mountain; she bounced a few times in happy glee, then raced after it, tearing a path through the nearby forest as she went. "She'll be back, folks," Jack assured the villagers. And indeed, before long Nuku Nuku had returned, skidding to a halt at Jack's feet. "Jack-san!" she shouted from somewhere in the middle of a cloud of dust. "Jack-san, the string went bouncing over some rocks, and I hit it again, and it started to unravel, and the end was all twitching, so I hit it again, and-" "That's great, Nuku," he said with an indulgent smile, "but shouldn't you be singing?" "Hai!" As the dust settled, with string wrapped around her body in a Gordianesque fashion, Nuku Nuku picked up the accordion once more. "Ohhhhhhhhh, I had fun with the string, see, Now there's one last thing you can bring me, 'Cuz I'd like pretty pictures or I'll be forlorn. I'll roast you with all the trimmin's, Or I'll make you dance with Richard Simmons, And I'll knock you around until I get some porn! Eidle Eidle-" "HOLD IT!" The song came to a halt as Anne stormed out from the temple - literally stormed, as miniature bolts of lightning followed in her wake. She approached Jack, who was already putting his plan into action. "Okay, you three work on developing a technique for taking full-color pictures with twigs and rocks, you four invent the internet, and all you women come with me for a little practice-" "JAAAAACK!" Despite her three-inch statue, Anne was suddenly looming over her brother. "*You* taught that song to Nuku Nuku, didn't you?!" "What's the problem? It's just part of my ambitious program for the performing arts. You've got no vision, sis." Blazing with anger, Anne reached behind her and produced her ever-present mallet; while she was tiny compared to her brother, the mallet was not. Quite the opposite, in fact. "JACK! DIE! NOW!" "No time, sis," he said quickly. "I'm about to make a really important announcement! Well, not *me* me, but... aw, fuggedaboutit. Back to you, Jack!" -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- "Thanks, Jack." Anne blinked up at her brother, still posing (and slightly damp) on the Humvee. "Huh?" "Never mind. Anyway. For right now I, the so-called 'one and only' Controversial Jack Lysias, am going to..." Then he jumped down and landed in front of the Creature trainer, who instinctively recoiled from his grin. "...hand my godly powers over to Sable." There was a stunned silence in the garage. Sable was the first to recover her voice. "I think I must have misheard you..." "Nope. The bargain-basement godhead is yours, babe, free and clear." He waved his hand, and an opalescent stream of light flew from his temple to hers; she blinked and shuddered as the power entered her, then stared down at her hands as tiny lightning bolts danced between them. Anne peered at her brother, partly suspicious and partly worried. "Jack, are you sure about this?" "No, but that's never stopped me before. Besides, the story's just about over, so I've gotta do *something* with it." (On the Humvee's front seat, the ImproCorder(tm) let out a small bleep.) He stretched, his joints popping merrily. "Man, that's better! I tell ya, that was such a lame idea to begin with. This never would've happened with Gagne writing me." (Bleep. Bleep. Bleep.) "Or Given, or Harper either. This guy, though, just plain sucks at writing me. He's too much of a wimp to offend people." (Blipblipblipblipblipblip.) "Nope, this author couldn't write controversy to save his big, sumo-like a-" (Beeeeeeeeeeeeeep.) *CHOK!* From nowhere, a spear had appeared and planted itself in Jack's chest, sticking out of his back. A large yellow tag was tied around the haft; it read 'HOW'S THAT FOR CONTROVERSIAL?' Jack sneered. "Weak! Lame! It's been *done*, Einstein! Boy, what a loser..." And then he died. The Controversial One crumpled to the ground and lay motionless, looking for all the world like a discarded Jack-onna-stick. -=-=-=-=-=-=- If the silence had been stunned before, it had now been heavily beaten with cattle prods and poleaxed, with migrant workers removing all the various bits for hot dog production. This time Anne was the first to speak. "J... Jack?" He lay there silently. "Jack... c'mon, that's not funny..." He remained unresponsive, his blood pooling around him. Sable shook her head in denial. "No... no, this can't be. He can't be... dead..." Anne laughed, but it was a hollow sound. "Dead? Jack's too... too *Jack* to die. He wouldn't let something like this happen to him." They watched the cooling corpse for a little while longer, then Sable fell to her knees next to him, pounding on his chest and tears rising in her eyes. "Damn you, Lysias! I never... never got a chance to tell you how much I... I..." Anne stared at her with sudden realization. "Sable..." "...how much I HATE YOUR EVER-LOVIN' GUTS! YOU MAKE ME SICK, YOU FREAK! It's no good telling you now because you're dead, but I LOATHE THE VERY SIGHT OF YOU! ROT IN HELL, BASTARD! ROT! IN! HELL!" After picking herself off the ground from where she had fallen over in shock, Anne regarded her brother's corpse with a lot of sorrow, a bit of guilt, and not just a trace of relief. But mostly sorrow. "It's how he would have wanted to go," she decided sadly. "What, with a spear in his chest?" "No, while defying the ultimate authority. Though, of course, he never would have wanted to go at all..." "Ano?" Curious about the commotion, Nuku Nuku looked up from where she was mediating between duck and orc and approached the other two women. "What's going on?" Anne winced as a fresh load of guilt arrived at the docks. Nuku Nuku had looked up to Jack, for some utterly inconceivable reason; she was going to take this pretty hard. "Um..." The catgirl peered at Jack's lifeless body. "What's Jack-san doing on the floor? Is this another game?" "Uh... Nuku Nuku, Jack's..." She faltered. "He's..." A new voice interrupted. "All right, all right, break it up people!" All eyes (except Jack's) turned to see... A cat. A medium-large cat sitting on the hood of the Humvee, with long fur but Siamese markings. It glared at them in annoyance. "Well? What're you standing around for? He's gone, people; nothing more to see here." Anne did not ask 'Did that cat just talk?' The sister of Jack Lysias is accustomed to much more bizarre things than that. Instead, she asked, "Who are- ?" "I'm not here for Twenty Questions, monkeygirl," the cat snapped. "C'mon, let's get a move on! The Boss needs you out of his head so he can work on his little Legacy thing." She blinked. "Er... you're not the author, are you?" The cat snorted. "No, the Boss wouldn't be seen dead in one of his own fics. Thinks SI's are lame; that spear was pretty borderline as it is." "Then who are you?" "I'm his cat. Which is probably even more lame, but that's not my problem." "I... see." Hopping down from the Humvee, the cat stalked toward the others. "Okay, let's get this wrapped up; there's a lap with my name on it when I get home." She turned to look at the orc, who held his helmet respectfully before him. "I have no idea what the hell you're doing here. Beat it." And she glared at him, her sky-blue eyes boring through him until he exploded out of sheer desperation; green and red innards splattered onto Jack's corpse and gave it a Christmasy look. As the cat's attention was turned toward her, Sable took a step backwards. "I should warn you," she began nervously, "I *am* a goddess now." "Yeah? Well, I'm a cat, so I outrank you. Besides, you don't have any worshipers yet, so I wouldn't go putting on airs if I were you." The cat stepped closer, sniffing at the Creature trainer. "Fine, whatever; just go." She twitched her tail, and a portal leading back to Eden appeared. With an expression of relief, Sable stepped toward the portal... then turned and looked at Anne and the still-puzzled catgirl. "Well... it was nice meeting you, girls." Anne waved. "Take care, Sable. Good luck with the goddessing thing." "Bye-bye!" Nuku Nuku waved cheerily until Sable had vanished through the portal. "Nuku Nuku hopes her skin problem gets better." "As for you," the cat continued, focusing her gaze on Nuku Nuku, "it's time to stop goofing off with Lysias. The Boss has a job for you; let's go." "Hai!" Nuku Nuku picked up Anne and gave her a gentle hug; given the catgirl's immense strength compared to Anne's tiny and fragile state, this might have crushed her into pulp, but that would have been unnecessary, so it didn't happen. "Bye-bye, Anne-san! Boss-san needs me to do fun things for him!" Anne blinked, then looked at the cat. "He's not... she isn't going to...?" "What? No, nothing like that. She's just his Muse of Wai." Nuku Nuku bounced a few times. "Wai!" "Anyway, that's it for me. Pick me up." Nuku Nuku lifted the cat and put her on her shoulder. "Later." With a Q-like flash, both of them vanished from sight. Anne sighed as they left, looked around... then whirled to face where they had been. "HEY! What about me?!" There was a phantom sigh. "Fine, fine..." Another flash of light illuminated the garage; when it cleared, Anne was... ...back to her full size, at least, but still in a quasi-real garage with her brother's decaying corpse. "WAIT! Send me back home, dammit!" "Not my problem!" replied the fading echo. "Stupid cat," Anne muttered. Then she looked down at Jack. Well, the Humvee might be able to take her home, and she really ought to bring his body back for a funeral... though given her brother's active life, she'd have to choose some secluded spot nobody knew about or risk having his gravesite desecrated on a daily basis... "Are they gone?" Her heart leapt in her throat at the sudden voice just behind her, and Anne wrenched her eyes up from Jack to see... "Jack!" He grinned and spread his arms. "In the flesh, sis." "But... but..." She looked down at the still-very-dead corpse at her feet. "But..." "You sound like a motorboat, Anne. Want some WD-40?" "WHY AREN'T YOU DEAD?!" she screamed, full of anger and frustration, and not just a trace of relief. "Oh, that. I respawned." "...oh." She frowned. "That's kind of a copout, isn't it?" "Yeah. Like I told you, the author's too much of a wuss to disrupt the status quo." He looked around, then shrugged. "No big deal, though. Let's get going, sis." "Jack... you..." Her hand clenched into a fist, the urge to smack him just for being Jack almost uncontrollable... then she sighed and shook her head. "All right. But I'm driving." "Fair enough. Let's go home." And so they did. = = = = = = = = = = = AUTHOR'S NOTES *noncommital shrug* Like the other Jack-fic before it, 'Controversial Jack and the Fall of Western Civilization', J&W has run eleven chapters... though it's really only a pale shadow of its precursor. Not that I have any room to complain, of course. A half-assed starter idea clearly leads to a half-assed Impro. Still, it's over now, and while it's not going to go down in history as my most significant contribution to Improfanfic, it'll do.