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The TP Novel

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201. Posted by Brendan (Respected Member 1824 posts) 11y

Ah, yes I got it.. I know this is a bit late.

Perhaps we should start a new one on a new thread?

202. Posted by Isadora (Travel Guru 13926 posts) 10y

Quoting Brendan

Perhaps we should start a new one on a new thread?

Okay! Would you like to start?

203. Posted by Cupcake (Travel Guru 8468 posts) 10y

I would like a recap...and an ENDING!!!!

You can't just leave a broad hanging like this!!!!!!

204. Posted by Hien (Moderator 3906 posts) 10y

Bump!

205. Posted by Isadora (Travel Guru 13926 posts) 10y

OKAY - we'll work on it! PROMISE!!!!!!!!!

206. Posted by beerman (Respected Member 1631 posts) 10y

OK, now where were we………oh, right, wrapping things up (hee hee hee, it IS the Holidays, after all…get it? Wrapping? Hee hee hee…)

When we last saw, well, anything in this long, sad saga, the world was at war…a war to end all wars…..the BIG ONE, the whole enchilada, the Mother-of-All-Wars, el finito, 9/11 times a thousand, ……..

1) Dolly and Woolworth were plotting to re-steal the Guinness (so that they could obtain the luck of the Irish) that was previously nearly stolen by the newly separated Siamese Twin Norwegian Mad Scientists, who, along with Mad Moderator Hien and Evil Doctor Greg, kidnapped the Vixen for no apparent reason, who wound up chewing through her restraints and nipple tweaking Sam Evil for a cocktail, while the others began hacking their way through the not-at-all impenetrable complete lack of vegetation on their Evil Island on their way down to the coast, hoping to be rescued by either Evil Assistant Sander or Mom Evil.

2) The crew of the Royal Canuckistani Submarine Sinky Boat Thingy were duped into leaving Stately Isa Manor by a phony distress call. On the way, they picked up Commander Finz, who informed them that they were duped and fought Captain Cupcake for the last bit of chocolate while the sub became ensnared in an unusual swath of undersea wool.

3) The intrepid travelers, having rested and drunk copious quantities of Isa cocktails, set off in search of Dolly. The Isas themselves, after mixing another round, have implanted a “talking” chip in the Llama-who-is-not-named-Tina, who pushed the blue button on the Isavator and reveals a secret room. The monks have successfully thwarted an attack on the islands vodka supply from Intergalactic Bounty Hunter Bubba Reece.

As the bow of the RCS SBT breaks through the surface of the absolutely calm waters, a stiff gale blows from the North. Sheets of rain pelt the Captain and the Commander as they make their way up to the conning tower. Opening the hatch and peering outside, they discover that the entire boat is covered in a light, fluffy, ecru-shaded lambs-wool. “Good God!! What is that smell”, queried Cappy CC. “Wool, Captain. Wet wool, and it has us dead in our tracks”, retorts Commander F. “There’s only one thing we can do to escape a horrible fate….” Just at that moment, Weapons Officer Daveh leaps through the hatch, screaming through clenched teeth and firing aimlessly at the wool with his 50-caliber machine cannon. “Uh, no WO Daveh, that’s not quite what I meant,” intones the Commander, “we need to fight this wool with the only weapon that can subdue it…..Men, and women, GRAB YER KNITTING NEEDLES!!”

The dimly lit yet cavernous underground corridor is quiet, save for the paced clippity-clop of llama hooves on the rock floor. The Isas, having refreshed their glasses, follow with some trepidation. After what seems like literally tens of seconds and dozens of feet, the llama stops abruptly and exclaims, “What the hell is a monastery doing down here, and why do all these monks have machine cannons and fruity looking robes?” “Well, dear,” says Isa, “these are the monks who-shall-protect-the-island-vodka-supply. They have faithfully served us here on Mount Isa for hundreds of weeks, nearly their whole lives. Why, without them, we could barely keep the martinis flowing. Which reminds me, honey-pookems? Another round?” “You read my mind, my delicate flower. However, I think it might first behoove us to stop the llama from getting on the “elevator-to-the-Heavens”, don’t you?” And at that, the llama-who-is-not-named-Tina leaps into the opened elevator-to-the-Heavens, brushing past several paisley-clad monks and once again pushing the blue button with her slightly hairy nose. In the wink of an eye, TLWINNT is whisked to the heavens. “That was unexpected,” comments Mr. Isa, “adult beverage, my angel?” Meanwhile, in the heavens, the elevator door opens with a hiss and a swoosh. TLWINNT peeks out into the dimly lit yet cavernous corridor, only to come face to face with the deadliest arch-villain in the Universe……..DOLLY, the “smart” sheep.
“So, I see you have discovered my secret planetary lair, eh Llama?”
“What is that, some kind of Canadian joke, eh?”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“What?”
“Don’t toy with me Sheep, I know what you’re up to. You’re trying to re-divert all the Guinness for yourself so you can gain the luck of the Irish. Well, it won’t work.”
“Really? Why? You’ve got nothing on me, Llama.”

While the two Arch-Foes face each other down, slowly circling the dimly lit yet cavernous lair, Woolworth leaps into the scene, great huge teeth bared. Landing on TLWINNT with full force, she sinks her huge fangs into the llama’s neck. Bleating in pain, the llama whirls around, trying to fling the vicious sheep-sidekick off her back. The pitched struggle continues for what seems like centuries. Back and forth, forth and back. Dolly, meanwhile, takes a moment to file her hooves…..
“HA, Take that demon-Sheep,” croaks the llama, and TLWINNT spins elegantly toward the elevator and flings Woolworth down the empty shaft AND INTO OBLIVION. Dolly, having finished her nails, sets down her nail file and springs into the air with freshly sharpened hooves pointed straight at TLWINNT. When suddenly, from stage left, comes Gelli, also leaping into the air. “DOLLY!!!! MY BABY!!!!!! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN??” Gelli grabs Dolly around the neck, clean out of the air, and embraces her as lost lovers do. The intrepid travelers (pardus, samsara2, raven) are close behind. Pardus intones, “Really Gelli, you two should get a room. I say we all go home now and plan our next adventure together.”
“Feck off”,
replies Samsara2.
“Feck off”, agrees Raven. “Oi girl, you up for a pint?”

Back on the RCS SBT, the crew has been feverishly knitting away at the wooly entanglement. “Ooh look! I made a sweater”, exclaims Radar Officer Brenda(n). “I made a 50-caliber machine cannon tote bag”, proclaims WO Daveh. “I made a tea cozy”, chimes in Commander Finz. “I made a chocolate bar cozy”, gleefully exclaims Captain CC, nibbling on a bit of Godiva.
“I made lunch”, grumbles Galley Wench Katie.
“Make full speed back to Evil Island”, barks the Captain, waving a Lindt double crème Anglais fudge bar in the air.

“Where’s my drink, you pathetic little dwarf?” bellows the Vixen at Sam Evil. “Coming right up mistress, not to worry.”

Brriiiingggg, brrrrriiinnngggg…….

“Hello, Pete Evil here.”
“Dammit Brother, get back here. The vixen is loose and she’s thirsty!!”
“Listen Sam, how many times do I have…what do you mean, the Vixen’s loose?”
“She gnawed through all of her bindings, and now she wants a cocktail. And my nipple is killing me”.
“Don’t worry, little Evil Brother, we’re on our way back to the lair”.

“Men, the Vixen has my little brother captive back in the lair. What should we do?”
“Um, sir, over”,
replies MM Hien, “I think we should flee. Over”
“I agree with MM Hien”, replies ED Greg, “We should flee.”

But at that very moment, the sound barrier is broken by a rapidly descending sheep, sending a deafening sonic boom into the still island air. The sheep, having fallen some 386 miles (2,987.093 km), flies quite literally through Evil Island and into the Earths core. The resultant hole starts sinking the desolate wasteland into the sea at an agonizing slow pace. Fortunately, the RCS Sinky Boat Thingy pulls into port just before the island is swallowed by the sea, rescuing the Evils and their Henchpeoples. Chained and charged as criminals, they are escorted to the brig. Pete Evil lifts his brother up onto his shoulder. A relieved Sam Evil exclaims “’Tis the Holidays. God bless us one and all…”. The Vixen knocks Sam clean off his brothers shoulder with her Iron Handbag…….

Meanwhile, and lastly, back on the veranda at Stately Isa Manor……

“However did you survive, little llama, being bitten so viciously on the neck?” asks Mrs. Isa.
In a slightly croaky voice, TLWINNT responds “Simple darling. It was the talking chip you implanted in my neck. Woolworth couldn’t bite through it, so I guess it saved my life.”
“Yes, well, that’s lovely dear…Honey Pumpkins, would you mix up a fresh pitcher, please?”

The moon sets. Life on Earth is saved. Bad sheep everywhere lay low.

207. Posted by Hien (Moderator 3906 posts) 10y

Somebody must be really bored at work...

208. Posted by Isadora (Travel Guru 13926 posts) 10y

My, my, my, what a perfectly wonderful ending to a perfectly wonderful story!!!!!!!

Isa leaves to make sure there is enough vodka in the liquor cabinet for making Beerman a very large martini upon his arrival home!!!

WELL DONE!!!!!!! ;) ;)

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