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“So, gents,” started Harbi, “what’s with the destroying of millions of rowies so that you can artificially inflate the prices? Don’t you realise the harm that you’ve done? It’s a ghost town out there!” She looked down, disappointedly, at the two bakers who had been tied to the nearest available chairs. Spinning, she picked up a spare chair and threw it through the wall above their heads, showering them all with plasterboard and rubble (no, we’ve had the rubble joke before – if you haven’t read all of the story you might have missed it. If so, go and read it all, it’s quite good, and the rubble joke’s a cracker, though a tad surreal.). “What is this, good superhero / bad superhero? Are you going to come over as the nice guy, and try to soften us up or something?” This last comment was directed towards Numfy. “ ‘Cos we’ve got nothing to say!” Kick. Balls turn into discs momentarily before the natural springiness causes them to spring back to bruised and painful almost normality. “Need I say more? She’s the good one. And I’ll bet a few of the readers winced at that one.” “I thought you were supposed to be superheroes – you can’t do that!” exclaimed the baker who could still talk, in fact who could still draw breath. His companion tried his best, but could only manage the shallowest of breaths for some time to come. “Says you. Have you ever actually read the Superhero Code? ‘Cos you look more like a baker than a lawyer to me. No? Good. I can absolutely guarantee you that nowhere – and I repeat – NOWHERE in the Code does it say “Rule No 6 – Thou shalt not kick tied and bound bakers in the nuts.” I can fucking guarantee it. So, unless you want much of the same I’d spill the proverbial beans.” Numfy said, breaking rule 23 in the code, which DID actually state that you shouldn’t kick tied and bound comestible manufacturers in the knackers.
“No, no, no, don’t kick me – we haven’t done anything! We’ve been losing money hand over foot – I mean we’ve paid off all the other staff – even Claudia Schiffer. We’ve been locking the rowies away from the start, but they still manage to disappear – someone’s been stealing them, but we don’t know how! Honest guvnor!” “Honest guvnor? You ain’t from around here, are ya? So, you expect us to believe that they’ve just been disappearing from behind locked doors?” asked Harbi, easing herself between Numf and the bakers, because she HAD read the Code, and didn’t want her friend to get into any more trouble – fun though it had looked. “Yeah – that room over there, where we disappeared to get your rowies earlier,” offered the talkative one with a nod of his head towards a closed door. “Well, in that case, why don’t we go and have a good look, Numf?” “Good idea, I’m right behind you,” said Numf, following behind and threatening the bakers with a thorough slapping if they as much as whined out of place.
Into the small, dark room the two heroes strode, forgetting to look behind the opened door. Daft bastards. In the middle of the room there sat a table, with four bakers trays containing around 200 rowies each. SLAM! Absolutely cacking themselves our heroes spun around to see…..
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There, clad in black from head to toe stood our anti-hero, Gimp Boy (once again, if you don’t know what’s happening READ BLOODY THE STORY! Or else accept that you’re not going to get the running gags.Your choice.).
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” asked Numf, rather heroically. “Bill Hicks?”
“You are lucky, young Skywanker . . . that we share a familial bond. . . .” “Well, I’m not familiar with you. But lets see, leather, mask, bondage with people much younger than yourself. . …that’s not Michael Jacks…..um, under there, is it?” asked Numf. “Who the bloody hell is Michael Jacks? Don’t you mean Michael Jackson?” asked Harbi. “’Course I don’t mean Michael Jackson – that would be libellous, wouldn’t it? Come to think of it, grab your crotch and sing Billy Jean, would you?” Grab. “Billy Jean . . . is not my lover . . .” “No, that’s not high enough. Tighter,” explained Numf. Squeeeeze. “..she’s just a girl . . . and sometimes I …” “GET HIM!!..” screamed Harbi as she pounced. Numf was just a second behind.
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“And that, class, is the first ever use of the classic “Squeeze your own gonads whilst impersonating Michael Jackson Distraction Technique” which has been the mainstay of physical comedy shows on television and cinema for the past twenty years….”
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As Numf and Harbi sailed through the air at Darth Vader, their molecules were ripped asunder. And almost instantly re-assembled several miles above the planet. However, their orientation had been changed (no, not like that, though I suppose that could have been quite a funny option), and both sailed out of their respective transporter beams and hit the back wall of the transporter room aboard the Enterprise. Luckily for them, Vader had squeezed a bit too hard, and had incapacitated himself. He lay coiled up on a circle on the floor. Unluckily for them, once they had picked themselves up off of the floor, they found themselves surrounded by a number of bloated spacemen all pointing things at them that we can take to be possibly injurious to health. (Phasers, in other words.) “Take me to your leader,” Numfy said to anyone who wanted to listen. “But do me a favour and tie that guy up, he’s some kind of pervert, and he’s after me for some reason.”
Five minutes later, our two heroes and Mr. Gimp were on the Control Deck, tied and bound, in front of an extremely overweight Kirk. “My name is Captain James…. T….. Kirk, and I am the captain….. of the USS Enterprise, the vessel……. that you are currently aboard. Tell me, ……why were you trying ……to hi-jack our rowies?” “What do you mean YOUR rowies?” asked Harbinger, well pissed off with being tied and bound without having given her permission and deciding on a safe word. “So it’s you that have single handedly ruined a once great city…well, an okay city….by stealing its most saught after commodity. How dare you!” “Hey, Kirky babe, what does the T stand for? Twat?” Numf said, trying to antagonise the captain. “How dare…… you! I’d challenge you…… to a duel, if I could only un-wedge my arse from this….. chair!” “Tell me, Captain, have you lot just been stuffing your faces with all the rowies that you’ve been stealing? You didn’t realise that they are about 500 calories each, did you?” Harbinger asked. A skinny, pointy eared alien piped up at this point. “Excuse me captain, but have you noticed how similar in looks and attitude this young man is to your good self prior to your weeks of self indulgence?” “My god, ……Spock, you’re right. How can …….that be? And how come you’re …..not a flabby cunt….. like the rest of us?” “According to the tricorder readings, Jim, he appears to be your son…….”
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“GET AWAY FROM HIM . . . YOU BITCH! . . . Young Skywanker is MY . . . son. Together we will rule the . . . Universe!” So saying, Vader broke his bindings and stood up to his full 7 foot height. The lights blinked out, leaving everyone temporarily confused.
“Cool trick, I wonder if I could do that,” said Numf, and in the wink of an eye he and Harbi were released from their bindings, having mastered the Force a lot quicker than someone else that I could name.
It’s a bit dark and confusing around here, thought Harbi to herself. I know, that Gimp had a torch at his belt – I’ll nick it off him.
Panda Immodium had broken out all over the Enterprise, and their diahorrea had cleared up really quickly.
Harbi nicked Vaders teorch and turned it on. Immediately a solid beam of light shot out, cutting off one of Spocks ears. “Ouch, that hurt” came a very logical voice out of the darkness.
The lights blinked back on. Numf stood next to the lift, pointing at a switch. “Okay, which funny bugger turned the light out? Come on, own up.”
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“So, Mr Spock……’fess up. How come …..you haven’t …….put on any weight?” “I had a strange communication from my daughter last week, suggesting that I not indulge, due to their high calorific content,” answered Spock, logically, though rather distractedly, due to the fact that he was holding his severed ear in his hand. “And why didn’t you tell us? Ohhhhh yes, that memo that you sent around last week, we all laughed at, and then made paper aeroplanes out of. I remember now,” piped out a fat Bones who had just entered the bridge. “Your daughter? I didn’t know…… that you had a daughter. Who is she?….. Where is she? Can I f…..no, forget that last bit.” asked Kirk. “Well, the funny thing is, that in exchange for that information she insisted that I transfer her on board. It appears that the worlds press were after her. Something to do with a video that she was in…..”
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You guessed it, didn’t you. I suppose it’s pretty obvious when you take the pointy ears into account.
Yes, it was indeed our very own ex-newspaper hound (no pun about her being a dog intended), Trixie.
“That bastich Eddie Tor sacked me, can you believe it?”said Trixie, swivelling herself around on the chief communicators chair.
“Wait a minute, shouldn’t…… Lieutenant Uhura be…… there?” asked Kirk. “No, she had to go and get cleaned up. She said something about William Shat’n’er,” replied Trixie, finally getting to use the best Star Trek joke ever, without risking being called racist.
Wanting to get in on the act, Numf grabbed the recently severed appendage out of Spocks hand and stuck it in the middle of Kirks face. “Captain Kirks final front – ear!” he laughed. Nobody else did.
“Numfy, even for you, that was fuckin’ awful!” said Harbi, shaking her head, arms folded under those magnificent hooters of hers.
“Numfy? Then you must be Harbi. Oh …My…. Gawd!!!! Well, fuck me gently. I’ve been trying to get ahold of you two. Eddie wanted me to get you to sign one of his exclusive contracts for writin’ on Legionworld! I thought I had you in Amsterdam….” said Trixie.
“Nope, it wasn’t us that you had, was it Trixie. I thought I recognised you. I saw the photos in Celebrity Shag Special – that’s the video Spock was talking about,” said Numfy. “Anyway, what’s this about Eddie Tor – I thought you said he’d fired you? Is that the same Eddie that’s in the space / time continuum?”
“No, I said he sacked me – he bundled me into a mailbag and threw me out the fuckin’ window.”
“Talking of which…..Spock…..how come you never…..told my about you…..having a daughter?” asked Kirk. “Well, Jim, do you remember the time that you got me so drunk that I shagged that whole intergalactic circus troupe?” “Remember? Let me tell you….Spock….the memory of you climbing …..up that ladder to….fuck that elephant….will remain with me….. ‘til my dying day.” Everybody collapsed in fits of laughter, with the exception of Spock and Trixie.
Meanwhile…….
At the Sheraton, Doctor Jeep played on and on and on.
Back on board the Enterprise, the giggling had subsided. Upon looking up, it was evident that some badness was afoot. Spock and Trixie had everybody covered, phasers pointed at Kirk, Vader, Numf and Trixie. Everyone else wore red, and seemed to know without being told that one wrong move would see them written out of the rest of the story.
“What do you think…..you’re doing, Spock. This is….. mutiny!” If there were a soundtrack, it would strike a dramatic chord at that point.
“Well, Jim, it’s like this. I am sick fed up of playing second fiddle to a buccaneering, womanising, testosterone feulled, stupid, fat, wig wearing twat like yourself. Week after week, you and Bones do nothing but take the piss out of me. I’ve had it – I’m taking over. Who do you think has been putting extra peanut butter on your rowies to help fatten you up even more? Anyway, Trixie and I want to roam the galaxy, searching for her mother, the midget trampoline starlet. I haven’t beeen able to get her out of my mind,” replied Spock.
“So Spock….., how did Trixie even…… know that you were here….., since we were only ……recently sucked through ……one of those strange STCs…” “Huh??” “Space / time continuums. I thought that if I abbreviated it then I wouldn’t have to type so much. So much for that idea,” came a strange voice from out of nowhere, sounding strangely like Numfs.
“Oh, that’s easy,” said Trixie, “ I was reading this story online – trying to get an idea where Numf might be, when suddenly up pops this spaceship, and lo and behold, daddy’s on board. Coincidence or what?”
“Ah . . So it was you . . that forced me into the drink . . . you cunts . . .” “And who are you anyway? And why are you trying to claim Numf here as your son, when my tricorder clearly shows that he shares genes with Captain Kirk?” asked Spock. “Ahm nae sharin’ jeans wi’ that fat bastard!” said Numf, resorting to a slightly more Celtic pronunciation.
“My name is . . Annadin Skywanker, . . . and he is my son. . . I know not how, . . but I sense he is. And the . . Force never lies.”
----------------Tune in next for the shocking conclusion of the Numf and Harbi part of the Tag Team Thread. Brought to you by AsbestoUndies.com----------------------
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--------And now, our exciting conclusion to the Numfy / Harbi thread------------ ------------------Bet you can’t wait---------------------------------------- ------------------Bet you can’t guess what’s going to happen, either----------------- ----------I’d suggest that you get yourself a drink before you sit down, ‘cos it’s a long read – but well worth it-------------------------------------------
“Umm, everybody,” said Bones, wishing that he hadn’t put on his Liverpool / Washington Redskins (pick your replica red shirt of choice), so that he could do something heroic without risking sudden death. “Umm, everybody, umm, look at the screen.”
Imagine for a moment that the original Enterprise (you know what I mean, so I don’t want any PMs from irate Trekkies, okay?) had a rather impressive front viewing screen, rather more like Jean-Lucs Enterprise, rather than the fucking widescreen telly that it actually had. It’s slightly more impressive that way.
Everyone turned to stare at the screen. A giant blue and grey face filled the screen, stars visible through it. “Boo.”
“My god, Numfy, check those steely grey eyes – they’re magnificent!!” said Harbi – she’s always gone for eyes. “Who the fuck?????” said everybody else. Several pairs of trousers had to be changed pretty rapidly.
“The hour of your destinies is at hand,” said the vision, cold stony voice which sent a no unpleasant shiver down Harbis back.
“Aye – and you fucking think so, do you?” asked Numfy, sounding precisely one shit-load more heroic than he actually felt.
“Well, actually I do,” said our mysterious baddy (I’m sure most of you have worked it out already, but for those who haven’t I’ll keep the suspense going for a bit longer), and a giant hand came out of the screen and plucked our two superheros, Captain James T. Kirk and Darth Vader from the bridge.
Onboard the Enterprise, the vision disappeared, but the cold stony voice could be heard – “Enjoy your trip to the circus.”
The five remaining members of this thread appeared on a strange, silent, grey planet. It was small enough so that the curvature could be seen at the horizon. (I don’t think that would work in reality, the horizon would just be closer, but it’s a good image.) There were no mountains and no vegetation. Our two superheros, Captain Kirk and Lord Vader were facing this so far un-named mega-baddy. “I believe you may have some questions for me,” said the baddy, facing the remaining four in a classic hero pose – much like the one from Harbi earlier. Except that bigger biceps and smaller tits were on show. Oh, and I don’t remember Harbi having a bulge like that in her lycra shorts, neither. (Though I’ve known a few bulges like that that had wanted to get into her lycra shorts!) The heroes and Vader stood in a semi circle facing him. The planets sun was behind him, leaving him as an almost colourless silhouette. Except, that is, for the powerful eyes which looked out from the blackness, searching their souls. The three heroes, and one minor baddie looked awestruck and dumbstruck at the almost casual show of power.
Vader found his voice first. “Who the fuck . . are you?” “You of all people should know that, Annakin Skywalker.” “My name’s not . . . Annakin Skywalker.” “Yes it is – I named you myself.” With another of those casual, power showing off things, a birth certificate appeared in his outstretched hand. “”Annadin Skywanker”,”he read.” Well I never, that stupid secretary managed a couple of cracking spelling mistakes there, didn’t she. My, but you must have had a rough time in the playground with a name like that.” He threw his head back and laughed.
Never had the planet heard such a noise. If there had been mountains they would have fallen over. If there had been seas they would have cracked, flooding the white hot centre of the planet and converting it all to steam, which might have produced a cloud base, rain, greenery, vegetation, in short – life. However, it did none of these things. It just shook – frightened.
“You mean . . you’re my father?” asked Vader incredulously. “Well, lets see what it says on the birth certificate. Mother….so that was her name. Well, you live and learn. Father….The Dark Side. Well, I suppose it’s fucking close enough.”
“Holy bat, Fuck-man!”swore Kirk. “You’re the….. legendary Darkseid….. In The Flesh.” (There we are Roger, a quick plug for your live album – that’s surely worth a couple of free tickets and back-stage passes for your next world tour in ten years or so….)
“Well, what passes for flesh on his grey, stony arse, anyway,” said Numf.
“My turn for…. a question,” said Kirk. “What am I …..doing here?”
“Well,” said Darkseid, “I had been hoping for a monumental battle between the forces of good and evil – you against Vader. But look at you – what a fat bastard you’ve turned into. Not much of a contest. Here’s 20 quid instead – go and buy yourself a girdle.” Kirk disappeared instantly, looking confused at the £20 note in his hand.
“Father or not . . you can’t . . . treat us like that..” said Vader advancing on Darkseid, light saber in hand, swiping through the air left and right….
Go on, do the noises – you know you want to.
Zzzssshtt Zzzsshhtttt!!!!
In less than the time it would take to blink your eyes, Vader found himself wearing his leathers on the inside, and his insides on the out. He fell to the floor, instantly dead, smelling incredibly bad and looking even worse.
“I don’t suppose that you could do that to Jar Jar Binks, could you?” asked Numf. “But seriously, that wasn’t really necessary, was it?”
“I suppose it was rather unneccesary – how about I bring him back to life and return him back in time for Episode 5? Would that do you?” asked Darkseid. “That would be spot on,”replied Numfy. “They don’t count as my questions, do they?” “No, Numf-El, I know there are number of burning issues in your heart. Ask away,” said Darkseid graciously. “Well, there’s a couple of things – what’s with Golden Girl and Cobalt Lad and everybody thinking that they’re my dad and all that sort of thing?” asked Numf concisely. “I must confess to being behind all of that,” replied Darkseid. “But, why?” “We will come to that in time, but first, Golden Girl. Using the technology that I first refined in bringing Dolly to life”….”Bloody hell, not Dolly too..” … “ I managed to clone Supergirl. She had hurt me badly in past battles, but I needed her clone to fulfil my own destiny.” “So, GG was a Supergirl clone. Wow. But she was a bit mental, wasn’t she?” asked Numf. “She first had to endure 14000 years of madness before I could use her.” “Bloody hell – listening to “I Like Driving In My Car” two and a half billion times would drive anyone mental,” said Harbi, doing some quick mental arithmetic. “I managed to distill it all into 15 years of Sensory Deprivation,” explained Darkseid. “You Bastard! You got her that executive box at Pittodrie that had been built especially for David Blaine, didn’t you! You heartless bastard!” exclaimed Numfy, getting very angry indeed. “You forced her to watch the Aberdeen wilderness years, didn’t you. 1995 – 2010. You…..” If it hadn’t been for Harbi holding him back until his anger subsided, Numfy may well have done something that he would have regretted. Instantly, and for the rest of his very short life.
Meanwhile….
At the Sheraton, Doctor Jeep played on and on and on, and then got kicked out by hotel security.
Once he had calmed down, cried a bit and screamed a lot, Numfy asked re-asked about his fathers. “So, who actually is your father? Well, all of them, and a few more. The greatest heroes and villains that the universe will ever know. All spliced together and inseminated artificially into Golden Girl, after her madness had taken hold effectively.
Darth Vader, and therefore my own genes. Captain James T. Kirk Attila The Hun Alexander The Great Mon-El Genghis Khan Adolf Hitler Jesse James…”
“See, I told you that you were a jessie, didn’t I?” piped up Harbi, speaking as if from a great distance away. Numfy turned his attention to her. “What’s up Harbi – why are you staring at Darkseid like that?”
“5927 others and, of course, the greatest hero of them all, Cobalt Lad,” continued Darkseid, “which is why Golden Girl hated him so much.” “What do you mean “the greatest hero of them all”?” asked Numf. “He has yet to fulfil his potential in your timeline,” said Darkseid. “So, there’s about 6000 dads? I suppose I’ll have to let Cobie off with a couple of pints and a pickled egg for his part of my Child Benefit. So, what now.” “I believe that Harbinger has a question for me.” “Yeah, can I have your babies?” asked Harbi, all doe-eyed. “What? Harbi, are you out of your mind? With him? What are you doing?”asked Numf. “But Numf, I love him. He’s so ruggedly handsome - and with all that power at his command he can give me anything I want,” argued Harbi like a big girly. “But.....” “I believe the lady has made up her mind,” said Darkseid, taking Harbi’s hand and turning away from Numf. Harbi turned to look back at Numf. “It’ll be fine, honest - he’s everything I’ve ever wanted.” At the wave of his hand a majestic palace arose from the ground, perfect in every way. For a Barbie Harbi.
With another wave of his hand Numf disappeared, only to re-appear at Legionworld HQ.
On the lonely, silent planet, Harbi sat, alone in her pink bedroom and cried. “Numfy you arse, why didn’t you fight for me?”
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Numf, I loved it! And thanks for the making me the greatest hero of them all ! Now I have something to live up in these tag threads! And a couple of pints sounds good to me! Each part was one of the funniest things that I've ever read, I don't think I've laughed out loud so much before...
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
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On Legion World, the every male realized in horror that his penis had fallen to floor! Strangely enough, no one seemed to be hurt or bleeding!
Icefyre passed out from the pain of thinking about a Legion World of eunuchs! Legion World erupted into chaos! Emerald Empress suddenly grew angry at the prospect of having no harem!
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Mean Old Hero flew above Legion World, knocking back Space Ranger, as Shark Lad leaped at him to take him down! But the mean bastard was too tough to pin down, and a creepy smile went across his face. Suddenly, he flew out of town into the surrounding mountains.
"OK" said Stu quickly over the omni-com, "I want a team on him quickly. Ranger, Empress, Sharky, Vee and Semi. I'm going to need you guys to figure out what's going on. I'm going to attempt to use my magic to figure out what I can do to restore our genitalia"
The female LMBPers watched on in horror, feeling pity for their fellow male LMBPers. "Who exactlly is this guy anyway?" asked Fat Cramer. "Um, I'm not really sure" replied He Who Wanders, "some old hero? Does anyone know?"
"I do" replied Greybird over the omni-com, as he was coming home from a mission with Kara and Lucien Lad. "I'm surprised you were able to find him though, it's a strange tale..."
-------------------
Meanwhile, a group of LMBers were off on their own mission at the time. Outdoor Miner, Abin Quank, Arachne, Lash Lad and Poverty Lad were attempting to go on a mission with Ambassador Kryll into Khund space, and to promote peace in the universe. Everything seemed to be going fine, as none knew of what was happening back home. Suddenly, Abin's ring turned orange for a moment and changed back. "What the?" "Abin, what was that?" asked Pov, and Abin replied, "don't know. Weird though." "Bad OMEN" shrugged Miner...
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
posted
While the LMBers that we're listening on the omnicom tuned in to hear Greybird's tale, the suprisingly forgot about the fallen units on the floor. Only Marvin of the Brood, having a bologna and popcorn sandwhich noticed that all of the penis's began to slowly move towards the door and out into the street. They all seemed to be inching toward some far off place. Not wanting to wreck Grey's story, and feeling a bit weirded out by fallen human male gentilia, he followed the parade of cocks down the street to see where it lead.
In the lab, Doctor One and Invisible Brainiac began brainstorming over how Mean Old Hero had been able to create their members to fall off. Little did they know they were dealing with an advanced intellect that could match wits with them...
From: If you don't want my peaches, honey... | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
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An intellect so advanced that he had devised a way to rebuild the MULTI-COLORED THING OF EKRON! He had found a way to clone Penis-Eradicator Lad and then aged that clone into Mean Old Hero and had then sent him to steal all of the male members' members and use them to recreate the Flesh Penis of Ekron. That orange glow on Abin's ring was meant to leech some of the ring's power and use it to duplicate the Orange Ring Finger of Ekron. He had even captured the mouse half of the Time Mouse Trapper and had used the genetic material to make a new set of Pearly White Buck Teeth of Ekron, and he had many, many other agents working on other body parts. In fact, the Emerald Empress and her team were heading straight for one of those agents right now...
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![[lol]](graemlins/lol.gif)
![[Smile]](smile.gif)
! Now I have something to live up in these tag threads! And a couple of pints sounds good to me! Each part was one of the funniest things that I've ever read, I don't think I've laughed out loud so much before... ![[Big Grin]](biggrin.gif)
