🚀 go-pugleaf

                             The Defense Squad          QUOTE OF THE DAY:
                                Episode 178         Boiler: "Tanby... Tanby.
                          The Last Turdian, Part 2    Hey Dolittle, what's
                                    or                Tanby's first name?"
                             All mobbed up and      Dolittle (thinks about it
                              no place to go          for a while): "What's
                                Written by            *my* first name?"
                                Bill Paul           -from a very weird movie
                        The man with two first names    called: DARK STAR

CONTINUED FROM PART TWO...

        "Dear, he's not intimidated by our guns."
        "Don't show fear, Honey! He won't hurt you if you don't show
fear!"
        "That's rather hard to do now that I've wet myself. Got any other
bright ideas?"
        "Open fire!"
        A dozen rounds slammed into Bruno's chest, ricochetting
off into the night and breaking several windows and a traffic light.
Bruno appeared totally unfazed and continued bearing down on the two
terrified cops.
        "Honey, he's got me! He's got me by the mohawk! Help!"
        "Hold on Dear! I'll save you!"
        Detective Honey launched himself at Bruno's face in a brilliant
immitation of a judo kick. His leg ended up snared in Bruno's massive
left hand and Honey himself found himself dangling upside down over the
sidewalk. Bruno took advantage of the situation and started bashing
Honey's head into the pavement. Luckily, he lost his grip on Dear a few
seconds later when Dear's mohawk gave way and it was revealed that the
strange haircut was in fact the result of a clever makeup job. Now free,
Dear bit Bruno in the shins, prompting him to let Honey go.
        "You bastard!" howled Honey as he slugged his partner, "You
*were* wearing a wig after all! You lied to me!"
        "I... I just wanted you to think I was tough, Honey!"
        "Oh...! Oh, you don't have to prove anything to me, you big
lug!"
        "Gee thanks, Honey. You're swell."
        "Awww...." said Bruno, who found himself moved to emotion by
this display. Honey and Dear glared at him.
        "Shut up!" they cried.
        Bruno went back on the offensive and lumbered after the pair,
who clubbed at him ineffectually with their nightsticks.
        "Well gentlemen," chuckled Steenbrinner, "I wish I could stay
to see the end of this, but I really must be going. This neighborhood
isn't safe, you know: seems there are too few policemen about. Good
evening. I trust we'll never see each other again."
        "Honey, Steenbrinner is getting away!"
        "We can't do anything about it until we shake this goon, Dear!"
        "Maybe we can tire him out if we run him around a little!"
        "Good idea! Let's go!"
        Honey and Dear dashed out into the middle of 7th avenue, which
was mostly desterted at this time of night, leading Bruno on a merry
chase. They ran around cars, climbed street lamps, dodged rats, muggers
and Al Sharpton. They car-jacked a passing motorist at gunpoint and drove
to Coney Island and back while Bruno chased them on foot. They ducked
into a pool hall and were turned out on their ears. They ran up the
block, then back down the block over and over again until their legs
became rubbery. Still, in spite of their best efforts, Bruno remained
hot on their tail, energetic and angry as ever.
        "This isn't working, Dear! He's not getting tired!"
        "Well I am! Honey, I think this could be it!"
        "You mean, the end?"
        "It looks that way partner!"
        "In that case, before we get pulped by this superhumanly strong
maniac, there's something I want you to know. Dear?"
        "Yes Honey?"
        "I...!"
        "Honey, look out!"
        A sudden and unwarned shove from his partner sent Detective Honey
sprawling to his right. He looked up from the blacktop of 7th Avenue just
in time to see Dear dive to his left. Bruno, who wasn't able to turn at
all, abruptly plunged from sight and could be heard wailing loudly until
he was silenced by what sounded like a sharp and messy impact with a
subway train.
        Honey got up and approached his parnter, and the both of them took
a long hard look at the street.
        "Boy," said Honey, "I've seen some monster potholes in New York,
but this..."
        "I know what you mean. Lucky thing I spotted it when I did."
        "Yeah, we caught a real break there."
        Honey and Dear took a few moments to savor their good fortune
and catch their breath. Then their expressions hardened and they once
again withdrew their sidearms.
        "Steenbrinner!" they exclaimed.
        Half expecting George to have made good his escape by now, Honey
and Dear ran back up the block and discovered the would-be drug lord
under seige by a gang of what were apparently baseball fans, who were on
the verge of tearing him limb from limb.
        "Move the Yankees out of the Bronx, will you, you swine!?"
        "You want a strike, hunh?! We'll show you a strike!"
        "You bastard! If you hadn't fired Billy Martin all those times,
he might still be alive!!"
        "No, no! It's Steenbrinner, you fools! *Steenbrinner!!* Stop!
Get back! Get back!! I swear I've never even been to Yankee Stadium
in my life! Help! Police! Police!! Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhgh!!!"
        "Whoa..." gasped Dear, "I've never seen people so angry before."
        "It's... it's horrible. We better arrest him quick before they
rip him apart."
        "I'll call for backup. Say Honey, you know what this means?
We've made a bust. A real live bust! Our first one!"
        "Oh damn," groaned Honey, "there goes our perfect record."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
        "Escaped?!"
        Joe Piscopo (coincidence) and Joe Mantegna (coincidence) ducked
to avoid a flying shot glass hurled at them by Al Pacino (coincidence),
who seemed more than a little upset to hear that his hand picked choice
for his Earth liason had decided to leave unexpectedly.
        "Mantegna (coincidence), you idiot! You're my right hand man!
My consigliere! My main goombah! How could you let me down like this!?"
        "Don Pacino (coincidence), we beg forgiveness! We were tricked
by Joe Pesci (coincidence)! He helped the two prisonners escape!"
        "What!? But that's crazy! Pesci (coincidence) has served this
family loyally for years! Why would he want to betray me?"
        "See," Mantegna (coincidence) whispered quietly to Piscopo
(coincidence), "I told you I was his main goombah."
        "Uh-unh, no way," Piscopo (coincidence) replied, "he's just
confused because he's angry. *I* am his main goombah."
        "No, *I* am his main goombah!"
        "No, *I* am!"
        "No, it's me!"
        "Both of you shut up!" Pacino (coincidence) shrieked, "Neither
of you will be my main goombah if you don't get that Turdian fangool back
here in one piece! Don't forget: I need him alive to sign over the Earth
to us! Once that's taken care of, you can dispose of him as you see fit."
        "What about the girl, Don Pacino (coincidence)?" Mantegna
(coincidence) asked.
        "You can do whatever you want with her. I only needed her alive
before to keep Loko pacified. But we can't afford to be subtle now. Our
distributors are already taking orders: if we don't have the Earth in
our hands in 72 hours, we're finished! DeNiro (coincidence) will crush us!
Gentlemen, you have that long to find Loko and bring him back here."
        "You mean, starting now?" asked Mantegna (coincidence), plaintively.
        "Yes now!"
        "But that means we'll miss tonight's episode of 'Those Wacky
Juliusians.'" Mantegna (coincidence) protested. "It's the one with the
high-coltage toilet seats."
        Fuming, Pacino (coincidence) got up from behind his desk and
silently approached his, cigar in hand, an watched them squirm under his
hateful gaze.
        "Alright," he sighed, "I'll tape it for you."
        "Thanks boss." said Mantegna (coincidence), "you're a prince. See?
I told you *I* was his main goombah."
        "GET OUT!!"
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
        "I can't believe I let you talk me into this."
        "Loko, just shut up and stop fidgeting. If I don't hold still
you'll have lipstick all over that chalky white face of yours."
        Edgar Von Blim, still wearing his blue makeup and pink hair tint,
returned to the musty basement where Loko and Larabeth were preparing
their disguises and took up a defensive position at the door. Larabeth
had squeezed herself into a tight black leather mini-skirt and bustier
and stood uneasily in a pair of bright red pumps with three-inch heels.
Loko, a vast litany of obscenities lurking just behind his lips, was
dressed in a pink strapless evening gown and had his long, dark hair
wedged unconvincingly into blonde wig.
        Seeing them, Von Blim did a double take and screwed up his face.
        "You know," he said, "I'm really worried that they'll see through
your disguises. Pacino (coincidence) probably has your faces plastered
all over the vid nets by now."
        "Well this was your idea, Von Blim," Loko groused. Larabeth
tugged at his dress and began stuffing foam padding ripped from a
discarded packing crate into his bra. "Hey! Go easy on that stuff!"
        "Sorry, but you're naturally bulky in all the wrong places."
        "That ain't what you said two days ago."
        "I thought you told me you couldn't remember anything that
happened after we left Partyworld?"
        "I know, but for some strange reason, the longer I look at that
leather mini, the more I remember. I hope there's room in this getup to
hide my piece."
        "You can put your laser pistol in your purse."
        "That ain't the piece I was talkin' about!"
        "Oh. Well, if you ask me, I don't anybody will even notice it."
        "Hey!"
        "I hope this won't take much longer," said Von Blim nervously,
"I'm worried we might be discovered."
        Loko put his cigar back in his mouth, pulled up his dress and
swaggered over to Von Blim in a most un-ladylike fashion.
        "Just a second. We ain't goin' nowhere until you explain a few
things. Like why we had to ditch that flyer of yours and what the
Hell (tm) you're doing here in the first place."
        "They'll be expecting us to make a break for the spaceport by
air. It will be much easier for us to sneak in by land and retrieve your
warp-cycle and my space craft. My ship has shields that will mask us from
their sensor grid: we'll be long gone before they even realize we've left
the planet."
        "Makes sense. But these outfits..."
        "The spaceport is a few miles away. We're liable to bump into
a lot of locals as we go and it's important that we not look suspicious.
Unfortunately, there's no way we could pass you off as a native, and the
only off-worlders around here are... well, frankly, they're prostitutes,
imported from other worlds."
        "Aw great. This'll be a barrel of laughs. I can just see some
bonehead tryin' to pick me up."
        "I can't." said Larabeth sharply.
        "Shuddup or I'll brain you with my purse. Okay, that explains the
disguises. But you still haven't said why you're here in the first place."
        "There isn't time to go into it all here. I promise I'll give
you all the details once we're off this planet. But basically, I came
to rescue you because there's a terrible evil threatening the galaxy and
you might be the only one who can stop it."
        "Oh great," said Larabeth with a wry smile, "he can't even park
his bike properly and you expect him to save the galaxy?"
        "What sort of terrible evil?" Loko demanded, ignoring her barbs.
        "It's too complicated to explain now. It's already swept through
several large galactic enterprises and it's still spreading. If it isn't
turned back soon, we'll never be able to stop it. Even my own company
wasn't immune. After I left planet Turd following the sudden conclusion
of the SPAM contract, I returned to the regional office of Worriers 'R' Us
for another assignment and discovered that the whole organization was
under new management! Most of the field agents were laid off and hundreds
of accountants, lawyers and secretaries were hired in their stead!
Professional worriers of the highest caliber were being turned away in
favor of undeeded middle managers. The company was being run into the
ground! Naturally, I became very worried."
        "Naturally. Lissen, Von Blim, I'm real sorry to hear that your
company's fallen on hard times and all, but what's that got to do
with us? Is the Interstellar Mafia this 'great evil' you're talking
about?"
        "I told you, there isn't time to explain! All I can tell
you now is that I believe that whether or not this evil continues to
expand its influence hinges largely on your actions. The continued
survival of billions of beings could be at stake!"
        "Is it too late for us to invest in body bags?" Larabeth sighed.
        "Keep it up and we'll be investing in one for you." Loko grumbled,
waving his purse at Larabeth menacingly.
        "Come on!" said Von Blim urgently, "The sun's coming up. We
have to reach the space port before dusk. As bad as Chicago is during
the day, it gets worse at night."
        "I ain't worried." Loko insisted as he adjusted his fake bust.
        "I could give you some pointers." noted Von Blim.
        "So could I. In some very embarassing parts of your body too.
Now let's go!"

CONCLUDED IN PART FOUR, IMMEDIATELY FOLLOWING...