Bubblegum Pop = WMD!?
‘From henceforth the second day of the month of April shalt be known as Idiot Awareness Day. On this day, thou shalt find creative ways to point out to others how they art idiots. And Idiots didst think they were safe after April Fools’ Day…’
‘Aye! We’ll show them!’ quoth Scoot.
And there was much rejoicing.
And the God of Sluttery didst vanish from their midst, and the Dudes went forth. And for three days didst the Dudes point out to every idiot they met how it was they were idiots, so over-zealous were they in following Matt’s command.
And in came to pass that the Dudes didst finally reach the Company Town.
‘But how shalt we overpower so many guards?’ quoth Casey. ‘We hath not that many healing potions.’
‘Why dost thou always turneth to me to do thy thinking?’ demanded Nori. ‘Do thy own thinking for a change, thou country-fried horse’s ass!’
‘But we liketh thine ideas,’ quoth Scoot. ‘Now we must quantemplateth…’
‘I have an idea,’ quoth McBean.
‘Shut up, goat-boy!’ quoth the Dudes in unison.
‘Dudes, I shalt not give thee any more fucking ideas until thou cometh up with one of thine own,’ quoth Nori.
And the Dudes readily agreed to listen to McBean’s idea, for they were too lazy to thinketh up one on their own.
And so it came to pass that the Dudes didst don industrial-strength earphones and marched around walls of the Company Town with amps blasting “Mmm-Bop” at full volume.
And after enduring thirty seconds of this, the guards fell on their swords, and blood ran down the walls in a crimson stream. Before the Dudes couldst turn it off, the walls fell down, crushing those unfortunate enough not to have a sword to fall on, for even they couldst not withstand the Dudes’ audio bombardment.
Then didst the Dudes march down the street, meeting no resistance, until they came unto the Plexi-Glass Tower, which stood like a monolith amid the destruction.
‘Ha!’ quoth Scoot. ‘Thy high-tempered glass is no match for us! Stereo Boy!’
And McBean didst turn on the amps again, and even the mighty Plexi-Glass Tower couldst not withstand more than a few notes of Maria Carey before it didst shatter, raining broken glass on all who dwelt therein.
Inside, the Dudes found that the Board of Directors had all hanged themselves when they realized what an atrocity their products were in the wrong hands.
‘Ye know,’ quoth Scoot, ‘some of our recent exploits must surely redefineth the concept of war crimes.’
‘Aye,’ quoth McBean, ‘for there shouldst be some kind of law against what we just didst.’
‘Verily I say,’ quoth Adria, ‘this didst not take as long as I had feared it wouldst.’
‘Well how long wouldst thou last against bubblegum pop?’ quoth Casey.
‘Holy fucking hookers riding bronco on a whale, Batman!’ cried Nori, for she had come upon the Company’s new Internet Program Regulator Software. ‘This couldst be a threat to freedom on every goddam level of cyberspace!’
‘Aye,’ quoth Dirty Uncle Orty, ‘we canst not alloweth those bastards to increase their stranglehold over everything. This is a threat even greater than the Holo-Demon.’
‘In fact,’ quoth Jennifer, ‘this doth look to be the Technomage’s handiwork.’
‘When art the Gods of Hondo going to appointeth that Patron Saint of Technology anyway?’ quoth RJ.
And it came to pass that RJ didst destroy the only disk which didst contain the Internet Program Regulator Software with the Hyper-X Buttplate.
And after making the Internet safe for democracy, the Dudes went forth to await the Gods’ next labor.