Kelso Wars Episode IV : A New Dope

It's a bit huge

Love Learning and Freedom Clairexxx

 

Mwahahahhaa!!!

 

WOOHOOOOOOOOOOO!

Gawd, the good old days of the KFC and PLOKS wars. How I miss them! But remember everybody...KFC is reforming...at Glastonbury! There may membership badges available for all those who are willing to pledge their allegence

I can't believe I was so weak as to tell DarthPhoenix where the HQ was...but I guess I was under the influence of terrible disco songs.

I've missed your writing, Pooer_13, its so damn funny.

 

Who told him about the sheep?... eh?... who told him?...

You make one mistake...

Well... I say one...

A few... maybe...

Okay... maybe more than a few...

Okay.. quite a few... for fuck's sake... its not like having illicit sex with a sheep ievery Friday night s something to be ashamed of...

Ahem...

Fly...
.

 

Back in space, the Death Poo was having trouble making its way to the secret rebel base's location.
"Why have we stopped?" Phoenix hissed, leant over the bridge officer's console.
"Sir, we have stopped under orders of Grand Moff Spider."
Phoenix turned to face Spider, who was sat in the command seat. "Grand Moff, what is the reason for this sudden halt in our plans?"
Spider hastily covered the speaker of his space-phone "Hungry." He stated, before continuing his phone conversation. "Hello, Burger Emporer? Yeah, I'd like a double ch..."

Bored, Phoenix ignored Spider and turned back to the bridge officer, hoping to at least find out where they were.
"How far are we from our destination, Ensign?"
"Sir, we are currently two hours away." A pause. "We're entering orbit of the closest planet while the takeaway arrives for Grand Moff Spider, sir."
"Oh, really. And tell me, what is the name of the planet?"
"Tattyone, sir. We ended up in the orbit of the same planet while we were capturing the Princess and her crew."

Phoenix suddenly thought of a way to alleviate his boredom. "D'you fancy blowing something up, Ensign?"

***

"Fluke..." Fly-Gonn whispered. Fluke looked over to the old man, who had sat quietly in his chair since the rant that had lasted a good ten minutes. "Fluke, there's somethign I want you to have." Fly-Gonn stood up and walked to a chest, opening it and rummaging through the contents. "It belonged to your father."
"You knew my father?" Fluke asked.
"yes." The old man replied. "He was a good friend, and a great warrior. When he was sober, that is." Fly-Gonn handed Fluke a cylindrical object. "This is your father's lightsabre!"
"Wow!" Fluke activated it, but nothing happened. Then it began to buzz and vibrate in his hands. "Uhh..." He flicked another switch, which just made the end of the object twist around.
"Fuck, wrong object!" Fly-Gonn snatched the object back and threw it over his shoulder. Rummaging again, he finally found the right thing. "There ya go."

Fluke looked at the lightsabre hilt, still shining silver despite its years in storage. "It's amazing." He flicked the activation switch, and the blade sprung into life. His face immediately fell. "What the hell?"
"What's wrong?"
"The blade is fucking pink!"
"Ahh yea, we swapped his emitter matrix for one that created a pink blade, then wired it so he couldn't replace it. Man, me and the other guys pissed ourselves at that one!"

Fluke shut down the blade. "Why did you want to give me the lightsabre now?"
"I dunno." Fly-Gonn shrugged. "I kept on mistaking it for a hair curler. I'm not naturally thin-haired, you know."

"Bleep...bloop...blip-blip!"
"86?" J2 looked at his mechanoid friend in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"What's she saying?" Asked Fluke.
"She's talking about the so-called secret mission again."
"Aw man, just shut her off and..."
Suddenly, Kat86's holo-matrix shone to life, and began projecting an image.

"This is Princess Mercy of the KFC...my ship has fallen into PLOKS hands. I enclose the blueprints of the secret PLOKS battlestation in the memory banks of this droid - get it to the KFC secret base at all costs. I do not know who will recieve this message, but whoever it is, I hope they will be able to carry out this mission successfully."

The image fizzled out, leaving Fluke and Fly-Gonn staring at empty space.

"Wow...what was that?" Fluke asked, dazzled.
"I don't have a clue." Replied Fly-Gonn. "But that Princess chick was HOT! Man, where was she when I decided to live in the desert?"
"I dunno, but what's all that crap about a secret battlestation?" Asked Fluke.
"I don't have a clue." Fly-Gonn repeated. "But maybe she's on board there. I wonder where that battlestation is right now..."

Once again, Kat86 began a flurry of panicked beeps. J2 looked out of the window and whispered.
"Uh oh." He turned to the two humans. "Sirs, I believe Kat knows where that battlestation is."
"Really?" Fluke replied. "Where?!"
"Out there." J2M0 pointed to the huge pooball in the sky...

***

 

hehehehe!!!

More More!!:sunglasse

 

"Okay. So explain the plan to me again." Fluke said.
"It's simple." Replied Fly-Gonn. "We pretend to be pimpin' hos in the Mos Issly red light district. When someone slows down to ask us what quality hos we have, we clobber 'em, steal all their money and use that to hire some random smuggler to take us up to that big thing."
"Right. I understood you, right up to it's simple."
"I've explained this fifteen times already." Fly-Gonn rolled his eyes in frustration. "Fuck it, let's just go rob a bank."

***

"Good morning sir, how can I help you?"
"Give us some money." Fluke shouted.
"Do you have an account, sir? If not, I can help you with setting up a high-interest special owner account..."
"Uhh, please excuse my friend." Fly-Gonn interrupted. "He's a few full-fat meals short of a Hutt. We're actually supposed to be robbing you, using this." Fly-Gonn pulled his hand out of his coat to reveal his weapon.
"Right sir. You're holding the bank up, with a spaghetti drainer as your weapon. Good choice."

"What the..." Fly-Gonn looked at his hand and realised what he was holding. "Fuck, I'd wondered where that got to. I had to use my tennis racket to drain the noodles yesterday. Then I used it to get the water out of the pasta I was boiling! Hahaha!!! Geddit?"
The woman behind the desk was not amused. "Sir, this is a bank. We only accept serious robberies. Comedy robberies are bad for business, and often end up with someone getting an anvil or piano on the head. In the cartoons, anyway."

"Oh, don't worry." Fly-Gonn replied. "I have my real wepaon right here..." He finally fished his lightsabre out of his cloak, ignited it and waved it around a little, letting the blue blade hum past the desk worker's nose a couple of times. "Is this any better for a serious robbery?"
The woman smiled. "Yes, that's perfect."
"Great. Glad that we could see eye to eye on this subject. Now give me some money, bitch!"

While the cashier woman shovelled lots of credits into a brown sack, all the while whistling happily, Fluke kept his eyes on the people in the bank. Then, all of a sudden, someone came up to him.
"Good morning!" The person, who Fluke had never seen before in his life, said.
"Umm...hello..."
"Well, see I couldn't help noticing you're robbing the bank there." Fluke nodded, motioning for the man to continue. "Well, see, I'm a bit of a have-a-go-hero. I was wondering if I could, like, try to knock you out then you kick the shit out of me, or something." Fluke's jaw dropped in puzzled wonder at what the guy was saying. "Ah, come on, young feller...I mean, look, I see you've got one of those things on your belt too. Chop off my arm!"
"Uhh...no!" Fluke tried to hide his lightsabre behind his tucked-out shirt, reluctant to use it and reveal the pink blade. "It's...umm...run out of batteries."

Fly-Gonn stepped by Fluke's side. "This little one's not worth the effort. Come on, let me give you a ludicrious amount of stolen money..."
"Not worth the effort?!" Fluke hissed.
"Shut the fuck up." Fly-Gonn hissed back. "We've just robbed a bank, we're not staying around for a fight! Except if bikinis and mud wrestling are involved. And even then, only for five minutes."

"There's thirty thousand credits in stolen notes. Thank you, sir, and I hope you enjoyed your looting experience here at TattyOne bank!"
"Yeah, whatever..." Fly-Gonn muttered as he swung the sack over his shoulders and walked out, Fluke following close behind.

***

Outside the bank at last, Fluke shielded his eyes from the glaring sun with his hand.
"So now we just have to find a cargo smuggler for hire, and enquire within?"
"Exactly." Fly-Gonn answered. "Although where we'd find a cargo smuggler for hire, I don't know."
"How about next to that sign?" Fluke pointed to a sign.

Fly-Gonn stared at the sign. It read Cargo smuggler for hire. Enquire within. A female was stood by the side, smoking.
Fly-Gonn and Fluke walked up to the woman as she continued puffing on the rolled-up cigarette. Fly-Gonn extended his hand.
"Fly-Gonn Gin, pleased to meet you."
The woman looked down at the hand, but didn't shake it. Instead, she removed the cig from her mouth, exhaled then replied. "Sun Holo. Smuggler, bounty hunter, mercenary, gun for hire, and all round nice person."
"Are you available for a cargo run?"
"I will be. As soon as I finish this." Sun Holo took another breath from the cig. "This guy gave it to me."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. He was all wrinkly. Kept on screwing up his words. About nine hundred years old?"
"Ahh, Yoda?"
"No, Keith Richards." Sun threw the now-finished cig to the ground. "Anyway, I'll introduce you to my copilot, Fuzzy." Sun yelled towards an alien stood a few metres away, drinking from a bowl of water. "Fuzzy, we have business."

Fuzzy began to walk towards the group. Three foot tall, hairy and cat-like, she looked almost elfin in her cuteness.
"Ahh, hello Fuzzy." Fly-Gonn went to pat Fuzzy on the head but as he reached over, Fuzzy bared a mouth full of glinting teeth. Fly-Gonn drew his hand back before Fuzzy could take a bite at it.
"You'll have to excuse Fuzzy." Sun smirked. "She's a little tempramental sometimes." Sun stroked Fuzzy's ears, and the line of fierce teeth disappeared again. Calmed down, Fuzzy kneeled down on the floor and began to clean herself.
Fluke continued to watch Fuzzy in interest as Fly-Gonn and Sun began negotiating.
"So what is this cargo? And where is it heading?"
"The cargo is us."Replied Fly-Gonn. "And we want to go up to that bloody big station thing in the sky."
"The Imperial battlestation?" Sun coughed in shock. "Of course, you realise that's gonna cost ya."
"Oh, that doesn't worry us." Fly-Gonn replied. "We have thirty thousand credits."
Sun winced in feinged sympathy. "I'd usually charge thirty thousand and one creds for this type of mission."
"I'll throw in a spaghetti drainer for free. Never been used, apart from in bank robberies."
"Ooo! A spaghetti drainer! Great...just the thing I need. It's a deal." Sun beamed a smile. "Glad to meet you and your friend...uhh...what's your friend doing?"
Fluke was kneeled on the floor watching Fuzzy lick herself clean.
"Fluke, what the fuck..."
"Oh, sorry. I'm just watching Fuzzy lick herself." Fluke sighed. "Man, I wish I could do that!"
Sun raised an eyebrow. "Give her a biscuit and she might let you!"

***

 

At any point in this story, do I get to have an extremely athletic sexual encounter with Princess Mercy?... just a casual enquiry you understand?... or Fuzzy?... make a change from a sheep...

Fly...
.

 

hehehe
im impressed by this story..
considerable lack of bleeping there though...

bleep

 

Well, I haven't got to writing it yet, but remember that you become more powerful than you can imagine...

 

Hmm...a move of forums . Back in the main UK forum...

...wow...

...just like the good old days

 

You've been promoted

I prefered the other sig by the way

 

hehehe, Brilliant!!!

 

Bugger, I totally forgot about this...


Ah well

Next part coming up in a tick...

 

"Darthy, we have the planet on our target scanners. Ready to fire when you are."
"That's gr...wait, what did you call me?"
"Umm...I meant Darth Phoenix The Magnificent."
"That's better." Darth phoenix smiled slyly as he watched the planet in the main view window. "Fire on my mark. One...two...three...f..."
"...Wait, sir...there's a small transport ship coming out of orbit. On current course, it's blocking our firing trajectory."
"Oh, pooballs." Phoenix cursed. "I can't be arsed with a bloody transport ship...umm...just tractor it into the hangar bay and get our Stormtroopers to eat the crew, or something."

***

"We're coming in for landing." Sun Holo checked her radar scope. "Hang on, I'm getting energy readings...that thing's operational!" panicking slightly, she threw her ship, the Millennium Table, into a wild spin. But it was too late. A bright blue tractor beam shot from the Death Poo, snaring the ship and dragging it towards the hangar bay.
"What's happening?" Fluke asked.
"They've caught us in their tractor beam, now they're bringing us into they're hangar bay." Explained Sun, still struggling to wriggle the ship free of the beam.
"Oh...that's good!"
"No...that's *bad*" Sun replied. "On an Imperial station, the best option is to go into silent running so they can't detect you, then find an emergency hatch to sneak in through. They snared us before I could get into silent operation...blasting through the front door isn't a good idea on a station that has several platoons of the PLOKs best soldiers."
"This may not seem like the best idea..." Fly-Gonn whispered. "but..."

 

Whats a girl gotta do to get in this story ​

 

Remember that this is all pre-written...there's only a small part left to write before it's finished. Although I'll be changing a few people who have been inactive on the forums for a while, maybe altering a few lines here and there, possibly even adding a few extra parts to the plot if I can find time.

But you know what? Just for sentimental reasons, I'm going to leave all the spelling mistakes intact

 

POWER_13 please can we have more please oh wise and humourous story maker? *bats eyelids and lashes*

 

"The transport is no longer blocking our way, Darth Phoenix."
"Very good, Lieutenant. Fire that thang!"

***

The Methane cannon ejected tons and tons of noxious gases, which were then ignited as they covered the planet TattyOne. The entire planet sparked into a huge fireball, combusting almost instantaneously and exploding into millions of tiny rocks.

***

"...ooh!" Fly-Gonn doubled up in pain.
"Fly-Gonn!" Fluke yelled. "Are you alright?"
"I felt a great disturbance in The Farce...millions of spirits, trying to force their way out...hang on."
Fly-Gonn strained and doubled over a little more, and a huge ripping sound and near-instant pungent smell infested the air.
"Ahh by fuck that's better. I've been dying for that for ages." Fly-Gonn returned to his normal stance. "Anyway, get on with your Farce training." Fluke hesitated to ignite his pink lightsabre. "What are you waiting for, you little Jedi Shite?"
Sighing, Fluke activated his lightsabre.
Despite running the galaxy, PLOKs had run into financial problems during the first year of the KFC attacks. As a result, it often had to rely on funding from other organisations to fund its arsenal of weaponry. Vorgin Trains, owned by Richard Branston-Pickle, had sponsored the PLOKs tractor beam research. Of course, as a result the tractor beams were always delayed. During the two hours that they had been caught in the tractor beam, Fluke had undergone training under Fly-Gonn.
"I can't see how this can be proper Farce training." Fluke complained. "I mean, we don't even have a proper blaster droid for me to train against!"
"Shut up and get ready to deflect. Part of being a Jedi Knight Who Says Ni is being prepared for anything."
Mumbling under his breath, Fluke ignited his sabre and got into position. "Ready."

Due to not having a blaster droid on board, and Sun being reluctant to lend the pair one of her blasters, the pair had had to improvise. Thus, Fluke began to deflect cakes that were thrown at him by Fly-Gonn.

"Okay, this one's easy, cream eclair...ooo, this one's gonna be tricky, sticky bun...watch out for the jam doughnut!"

"Okay guys, we're coming close to the hangar bay!" Sun yelled from the cockpit. Fuzzy got down from her chair and began eating all the cakes on the floor.
"You know," Fluke said as he and Fly-Gonn walked back into the cockpit, "I really can feel something flowing through me." He stopped for a while, strained, and another ripping sound/bad smell combo was born.

"Right, we're coming into the hangar bay, careful, it's gonna be a bumpy ride."
"Sure thing Su...umm...hey Sun, what the fuck happened to the planet?"

***

"...and then Mister Planet went BANG BANG BANG!!!" Sun finished.
"Wow. So Mister Methane cannon is nasty?"
"Yes, Fluke." Sun replied, exasperated after having to go through the entire set of events she'd seen for the third time. "The methane cannon is bad."

Fly-Gonn had remained silent up to now. He was staring out of the window as the transport was brought down onto the hangar floor. Breaking his pensive thought, he turned to Fluke and Sun. "I'm gonna shut this station down."
"What, are you crazy?" Sun yelled. "There's probably an entire army of troopers on this base!"
Fly-Gonn smiled. "You forgot one thing." He turned to Kat86. "Kat, would you bring up the Death Poo blueprints?"
"Beepity." The blueprints came up, hovering in thin air.
"Take a look." Fly-Gonn pointed at the details. "The Death Poo was built in Smaynana Shipyards - and TattyOne is the closest inhabited planet to that shipyard. Therefore, the crew will have been shipped from Tattyone."
"What's your point?" Sun asked.
"They were probably trained in the Tattyone weaponry academy. And everyone knows that anyone who learnt to shoot on Tattyone, can't shoot at all!"
"What the, that's ridiculous! Wha..." Sun was interrupted as the Stormtrooper team force-boarded the Millennium table. Obviously making a beeline for the cockpit, they began firing a flurry of shots.

Which missed every single target of oppurtunity.

Without a flicker of doubt, Fly-Gonn took his sabre from his belt. He didn't even bother igniting it - instead, he walked up to the four troopers and whacked each of them over the head with the steel hilt.

Sun looked in amazement as Fly-Gonn cockily clipped the sabre back onto his belt.
"Damn troopers can't shoot straight to save their lives." He grinned.

 

I think it is incredible the way you seem to have picked up on the finer nuances of my personality...

Fly...
.