THE RIKONIAN WAR
PROLOGUE...
NOTE: I took a few liberties with soem of your characters for comedic effect. It was not easy fitting everyone in, so some of you will be introduced later. Hope no one is offended
AnubisXy was elated. After all those years of waiting, this was his moment. True, the Phase World crowd was not as big as many of the Megaverse's VIP types could draw, it was all for him! He stepped up to the podium, the crowd cheered.
"My people, I AnubisXy, am ready to lead us to..."
He stops as a child, standing in the field distracts him. The kid points up at him. "Ah, my next generation of supporters," Anubis thought. The kid pointed and shouted the words that would forever shape Anubis's destiny. "Hey! That man isn't Weird Al Yankovic!"
Suddenly, the crowd shifts gears. Cheers of adulation turn to boos and hisses of anger and derision. "We want Al! We want Al!"
The crowd surged forward. Such a large mass of angry beings that even an undead godling necromancer must flee. So ANubisXy ran.
Oddly enough, a random rift was jsut lying there. "Well, what the hell, I need to get out of here!" AnubisXy thought as he jumped through the rift.
As he tumbled out the other side of the Rift, Anubis saw that he was in some kind of funky mystic realm. A large humanoid being loomed over him. A black man with antennae sticking out from his head at all anlges, no wait, after a second look Anubis recognizes it as hair. THe man is wearing sunglasses. "Yo, whatchoo doin' fallin' through my portal, fool!"
Anubis looks up "Er, um, who are you?"
"I am Coolio! Hey, don't I know you from somewhere?"
"Uh, er no, but hey I am a big fan. I loved Gangsta's Paradise!"
Coolio let out a bellow of rage. Anubis was knocked back by the force of the shout. "That's where I know you from! You're Weird Al Yankovic! Man, I am still pissed about Amish Paradise!"
"Er, uh, no, I'm not Wierd Al, I'm... hey! What's that behind you!" Anubis ran back through the random rift.
* * *
The man walking up to the bar looked like an anime charicature of a sea captain. "Barkeep!"
The grizzled young batender (hey, they can't ALL be old) asked him what he would be having.
"I'll have a whiskey drink," he said. As the barkeep moved to get it, he continued. "I'll have a vodka drink. I'll have a lager drink. I'll have a cider drink."
The captain guy went into the pool room to see if there was anyone else to play with. The room was empty. He was about to leave when a man in infiltrator armor brandishing a large shotgun seemed to just appear from out of nowhere, right in the middle of the doorway. "Mekitsune Chumbawumba! Prepare to die!" he said as he blasted Mek with both barrels. Then he muttered something and faded once again from view.
* * *
"Flying Lightning Uppercut™!"
Flash Fighter was flung backward into a pile of trash cans.
The thug, a young street criminal named Michael Tong, laughed at him. "Ha! You keep losing because you shout out your move before you do it! Ha ha!"
"Whoah, I'd better try to remember what Master Ronin said," Flash thought.
Ronin's image appeared in Flash Fighter's mind. "Flash Fighter... don't be a schmuck!"
"Yeah that's it!" Flash thought.
Flash Fighter got back up and walked back to the Thug, crouching in front of him. "Rising Thunder Fist&Trade;!" he shouted. The Thug prepared to hit him as he rose up to hit him. Then the Thug flew backward and landed on his rear end.
"Hey! You said 'Rising Thunder Fist!' and then did an Electro-Jolt Foot Sweep™!"
"Yeah, what are you gonna do?" Flash shrugs as he punched Tong with his patented Spinning Mega Finisher Ultra Jolt Combo™ "Wow, that's not easy to do while I'm shrugging!"
* * *
It was supposed to be a simple CS frontlines resupply mission. But when the grunts heard the George Thorogood CD (played at 11) blaring from across the field and saw the refitted CS APC they knew it could be only one person. "Maverick!" they all shouted. The APC stopped, and a guy who looked just like Anthony Edwards stepped out of it.
"Goose?!"
Then Mav swooped down from a high flying sky cycle and blasted the distracted CS troops to pieces with a Naruni rail rifle. This time he even rememebred to put on his jetpack before he jumped. Those who escaped Mav's attacks were zapped by, well a Zapper. "Good going Krieg," Mav called to his partner, who had swooped down with his own jetpack shortly after Mav had.
Meanwhile up on Mav's modified sky cycle, Iron Knight sat, arguing with his stubborn onboard computer about whether of not it was safe to jump.
As Mav and Krieg looted the bodies, a man perched on a cliff and watched. His black bodysuit (with red underwear and socks on the outside) was complemented by a silver skull CS logo on his chest. "Soon, Maverick... soon your day of reckoning shall come, just a ssoon as my new sidekick Snake gets back from the cyber-doc," thought the CS superhero DeadBoy (former sidekick of the CS superhero Deadman, not to be confused witht he DC comics superhero Deadman who was a lousy no good magic guy!)
* * *
The rat-like being scurried nervously from one alley to another. "Drat," Rodimus thought, "Why is Anubis late? He was supposed to teach me to reanimate people today..."
The rat was so nervous it did not even notice the American Indian guy who sat in an alley watching, and waiting for Anubis' return almost as anxiously as the rat was.
* * *
He was a tall lanky man, who appeared to be in his 70s, but in good health. His white suit was immaculately pressed. He endlessely repeated the annoying refrain "Go Colonel, Go Colonel" as he strolled down the rows of chicken coops.
Then he was dead. A single bullet to the back of the head. ANd no one would ever suspect that the killer was a little chicken holding a .45 Caliber handgun it ordered from Soldier of Fortune.
* * *
"And not only am I the president, I am also a client!"
"The world will never know of my mind control hair weave implants, until it is too late, hahaha!," the man thought as he carefully adjusted his "hair." He was so busy he didn't even noticed the intruder in his dressing room. That is, until a throwing dagger prtruded from his spine. He turned and, as he slumped tot he floor, he asked "Braydon... I... trusted... you"
"Sorry, Mr. Sperling, but I am a Cy Slayer."
* * *
"Damn," Weasel Boy thought as he knocked out the last member of the Michael Tong gang, "if only Marvel wouldn't have gotten that injunction against me using my origin in a comic, i could make a fortune off of my adventures!"
Then he looked at his watch. "Oh crap! I'm late for my Justice Force meeting!"
* * *
Draconis and Knight leaned against a brick alley wall. "Damn, where is that weasel anyway?" Draconis asked, for the eighth time.
"Egad chum! I hope he didn't come across any evildoers!" Knight mused.
* * *
"Damn, it's cold, eh" she said as another icy breeze blew through the tundra. "The things I'll do for tickets to the New Red Green Show, eh"
"Tisaphone?" a large featureless grey-skinned man asked her.
"Yes? What do you want, eh?"
"Is t'is a phone?" he repeated testily, pointing at a kiosk agains thte wall.
"Oh, yeah, eh"
The strange looking guy turned to her. "I am Veracusse."
"My Gram had that, eh, but she had laser surgery on her legs, eh."
* * *
"Oh boy! It's here!" shouted Bri as he opened his latest shipment of Lee Press-On Knobs. "And not a moment too soon!" he added as he peeled off the paper strip of one and applied it to his freshly shaven head. "Cool! This is the new kind with the little motor that makes it spin!"
Turning around, he saw a sight that almost made him think he was a real crazy. A small humanoid was stealing his underwear. "What are you doing?"
"I'm an underpants gnome"
"But why do you take underpants?"
"Because I'm gay, duh. Hey, have you seen a troll in a dress around anywhere?"
* * *
Meeting with a big name like Thraxus could be nerve wracking. Even for a god of war. But Wargod heard a rumor that Thraxus was starting a pantheon, and since that deal to join Paragon's pantheon fell through, he thought he may as well meet with Thraxus and see if it panned out. Now though, he was having second thoughts. It had been over an hour since his appointment and Thraxus still hadn't buzzed him in. He glanced across the roon at the elf (Tymero, or something like that) casually flipping through a 2,000 year old copy of Field and Stream
Thraxus's secretary (a really hot redhead) came in and told Wargod that Thraxus was not taking any calls today, and that he probably wouldn't want to reschedule the appointment either. She seemed shaken.
"Oh well," The WarGod thought, "Maybe I can go to Asgard. i mean, at least I've got both my hands."
* * *
(Fifteen minutes earlier, in Thraxus' office)
Thraxus was bored. Not bored enough to go talk to the god of war who was sitting patiently in his office waiting for his appointment, but bored nonetheless. "Nothing interesting ever happens to me," Thraxus lamented (Author's note: It has been scientifically provent hat uttering hte phrase "nothing itneresting ever happens to me" makes bad things happen to you).
Just then, a small dimensional rift opened in his office and a guy with an expensive Italian pinstripe suit and a pinky ring on each finger (his thumbs were turning purple) stepped through. "You?!" Thraxus shouted.
"Yes, it's me," caolmly intoned the famous Mafiosi, Michael "the Tong" Tong.
"You remember that money what you owe me?"
"Um, er, I guess, er"
"It was 500 Credits, numbdice!"
"Oh yeah, OK. Well, here's a thousand, keep the change"
"Oh no, Thraxy, it don't work like that, you forget the interest... Let's see you borrowed that money from me 5,000 years ago. I charge 10% a month (very reasonable for a loanshark), at that rate, it would have doubled every 10 months. Now, at 60,000 months, that 500 Cr. is now... ah yeah, that's right... er, damn, my calculator only goes to 999,999,999,999,999,999! So, let's just make it an even quintillion."
"A quintillion?! Isn't that when a rich girl throws a party?"
"No," Tong sighed, "That's a cotillion. A quintillion is what comes after a quadrillion. It's a million trillion Cr. And I think you want to pay me. After all, accident happen, Thraxie"
Thraxus was shocked. "What?!" That's a few hundred billion times what I've got! There's not that much money in the three galaxies!"
"Well, then, I'm feeling generous, so I'll just take your empire and call it even..."
"Hey, what am I worried about?" Thraxus thought "I'm Thraxus! I can have this punk killed."
Just then, another rift opened. A tall man in a navy blue overcoat stepped out. His long brown hair and sunglasses and creepy demeanor could belong to only one being. Thraxus jumped back "Lord High Rikonian, sir! It is an honor!"
"Stuff it Thraxus..." The Rikonian said. "Tong, have you callected my marker yet?"
"Not yet boss, this punk is being difficult. You want I should pop him?"
Thraxus' heart sank. There was no hope of weaseling out of his debt now. A cheap cliche Mafiosi is one thing, but the Lord High Rikonian is someone one does not trifle with.
Thraxus opened his wallet, pulled out a few bills, and calle din his top mage. "Wait! I can pay you!"
The Rikonian's eyebrow arched upward. "Oh really?"
Thraxus' mage appeared. "Lictalon Jr. cast your new Id Money spell on that, until I have a quintillion!"
(several days later)
The Rikonian tapped his foot impatiently. Thraxus sweated. Tong casually toyed with a cufflink. And Lictalon Jr. died from exhaustion, but the money was all there. Thraxus let out a sigh of relief.
The Rikonian walked (though it seemed more like gliding) toward the money, started counting, then threw the bundle he was holding down to the gorund. "Thraxus you fool... this is Canadian!"
Thraxus stumbled backward in shock. "Canadian?! Oh Z%*#%!"
The Rikonian smugly waved his hand and another portal appeared. "I beleive my attourney, Mr. Gurdson can handle the rest of the details, I have a megaverse to enslave..."
* * *
Somewhere, in a mysterious castle, there was a mysterious library of mysterious books. Reading mysteriously through one, was a mysterious mystic named Enterres. "And so it begins," he intoned mysteriously. Oh, by the way, did I mention he is mysterious?
And so it begins...
On to Chapter 1