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Whispers of the Kraken (Epilogue: Revelations of the Kraken)


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15 hours ago, Patupi said:

Darkness has a foil, and it's light shall pierce the depths.

Also noted. :wink:

10 hours ago, KAL 9000 said:

Komissar: Do it! Strike me down! etc... [And your journey to the Dark Side shall be complete!]

 

Star Wars has ruined me. There's just no way I could write that scene without including that line. :rolleyes:

15 hours ago, Garrett Kerman said:

Looking forward to chapter 91!

Hoping for this weekend. I'ma good 500 words in already, when I usually don't get anything down Tues & Wed. Maybe I can get back into more of a rhythm now.

15 hours ago, Garrett Kerman said:

Next series: Tendrils of the Kraken perhaps?

No one's gotten it yet.  All points are off if I get to the Epilogue first. :sticktongue:

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3 hours ago, CatastrophicFailure said:

No one's gotten it yet.  All points are off if I get to the Epilogue first. :sticktongue:

A challenge!

Damp Flop of the Kraken
Vague Impression of Kraken-ness
Beak-Imprints of the Kraken
Ink of the Kraken
(I figure it's a bit of a cuttlefish, myself.)
Cohorts of the Kraken
Afterimage of the Kraken
Cold, Wet Frog to the Face
Planet of the Ratsquirrelfishes
Return of the Kraken
Formications of the Kraken
 (NOT to be confused with "fornications." I'm talking about the one with the ants.) 
Multiplicity of the Kraken
Noxious Vapors of the Kraken
Smite of the Kraken
(It's done with subtlety at this point.)
Meditations of the Kraken ("Go to the bad corner, kraken, and think about what you've done!")
Side-effects of the Kraken (which may or may not, but probably do, include vomiting)
Implications of the Kraken
Disciples of the Kraken
Watchings of the Kraken
Spice of the Kraken
Brush of the Kraken
Aroma of the Kraken
Aura of the Kraken
Texture of the Kraken

Alright, I'm done now.

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On 12/22/2016 at 2:39 PM, Garrett Kerman said:

Any hints? I've gots lots of ideas, but I would like to narrow it down a little (otherwise, my guesses would probably be longer than your story).

The hints are there... scattered within the text :wink:

 

Next chapter is about done, just needs some polish and a linguistic consult. 

Also, because my transcription can't possibly do it justice, this is relevant:

 

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Chapter 91: Out of Her Mind... Back in Five Minutes! 

Bing-bong

Damas y caballeros, hemos empezado nuestro descenso. Por favor abroche su cinturón de seguridad y aseguren su ganado y respaldos de asientos en sus posiciones vertical. Sabemos que no tienen ninguna opción cuando viajan, pero te agradecemos por volar con AeroAndacamia de todas formas, porque lo tenemos que hacer.

The chicken stared at Valentina. 

Valentina stared at the chicken. 

The goat continued to stare at nothing in particular while munching on the seat ahead of it. 

All in all, she had had far more unpleasant seatmates on long flights. The goat next to her mostly kept to itself, eschewing the in-flight meal for the worn vinyl and stained foam padding of the seat next to the chicken. Having tried the in-flight meal, Valentina wondered if perhaps the goat was on to something. The chicken, however...

It had spent the entire flight looking back over its seat, eyeing her suspiciously. How this was even physically possible, she still wasn't quite sure, but wasn't about to go questioning the chicken over it, either. It seemed more than a bit... shifty. 

Ignoring the peering poultry for the moment and turning back to the window, she looked out over the checkerboard pattern of farmland and jungle far below. It didn't make any sense. It didn't make any sense at all. Why on Kerbin would...

She had read the letter in the envelope. Then read it again. And again. And again. Then she had tried to transliterate it, wondering if perhaps it wasn't someone's idea of a bad joke, substituting those odd Eastern letters for proper Keryllic ones into what looked like words, but was really just unpronounceable gibberish. FФЯ PЦTIЙS SДКЗ!

It just didn't make any sense! A space center. In Cerima. Even that sounded like the setup to a bad joke. And this space center was assembling in orbit the largest spacecraft the world had ever known. 

Only, the world didn't know about it. No one did, save for a relatively small cadre of personnel that Valentina was, somehow, now a part of. Apparently the Kommissar had been sending people for years, since the early days of the space program. Scientists. Engineers. Technicians. People she had known, who suddenly "disappeared." But no pilots. Never any pilots. 

Until her. 

Other agencies around the world had been doing the same. Often without even knowing it. All shrouded under the umbrella of a secret program by the Layland-Wutani Corporation to land on every body in the solar system. And along the way, to scout sites for future interplanetary colonies. The outer moons of Jool were of specific interest. 

And orchestrating it all from the shadows, was her old friend Edmund Kerman. She had pieced the rest together for herself. Edmund was corrupted by that... that thing. Shadowstained, the Kommissar had called him. And with all his "friends" and contacts, Edmund was in the perfect position to spread that stain into all sorts of positions of power. For all she knew, everyone was... infected. Maybe even the Kommissar. 

He was a part of it, after all. A significant part, using his office to direct people and materials, ostensibly at the behest of the Imperium itself. And somehow he had gotten her on the roster to fly the next assembly mission. But that didn't make any sense! His orders, once she got there, were unambiguous. 

Whatever the cost, destroy the ship. By any means necessary. 

Valentina sighed as she looked out the window. The squares of farmland had abruptly ended, and now nothing but pristine jungle stretched off in every direction. She still couldn't quite see the border from this angle. Someone had told her she couldn't miss it. Somewhere out there, was Cerima. It was madness. 

The plane hit a bump, and she felt a great disturbance... as if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror, and then... just cried. She feared something terrible had happened, far, far away. 

For now, she pushed the thought away. What she had been through on the Mün still haunted her. She had to tell someone, but... not just anyone. Someone. Someone very specific. She just wished she knew who. And why had Chadvey's voice—

"Hullo, lass!"

"GAH!" said Valentina. 

"BUH-GOK!" said the chicken. 

"WAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" said the goat.

Valentina looked around frantically, but it was only the same motley crew of passengers and livestock that had been there before. The chicken, however, was eyeing her even more suspiciously. Then where—?

"Ah'm in yer head, lass."

"My head? Why—" the chicken narrowed an eye at her, "why are you in my head?"

"Well Ah don't really know, presumably Ah'm just a repressed subconscious manifestation again. Ah really should have finished that degree, but th' professor was quite batty."

"But... I can hear you... and people are staring," she stuck her tongue out at the chicken. 

"Hmm, well that is rather concerning. Near as Ah can tell, it's either a sign of the impending collapse of your entire psyche, or that mayo was a wee bit off."

She frowned down at her empty plate. Even the goat hadn't touched the tuna salad. It had happily eaten the plate, though. 

"WAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" agreed the goat.

"But why is it... you?"

"Well, Ah suppose your subconscious is an excellent judge of character, with impeccable taste!"

She rolled her eyes, "so, why are you... manifesting?"

"Probably to convey a message such that you won't miss it. Be very careful here, lass. Something about this whole mess stinks. And Ah dunna mean the pigs in 7D."

Oh, so that's what that was, "what... should I do?"

"Continue on as the big fellow said, play the part. But grow eyes in the back of yer head and dunna trust anyone."

"Not... not even you?"

"Especially not me."

"But... if you are me, does that meant I cannot even trust myself?"

"Well, Ah... Er... That is... Blast it, now you've gone and given me a bloody existential crisis, and that's a very serious things for an incorporeal manifestation. Ah'll have t' get back to you on that."

"Wait, Chadvey... Chadvey!!" the chicken jumped, then started giving her the eye with its other eye.

"WAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!" said the goat.

Atendantes de cabina, por favor tomen sus asientos para aterrizaje. Y cuidado con los huevos.

Valentina grunted, folding her arms as the plane dropped a wing and her view of the ground disappeared. She was getting very tired of wondering if now, she had finally gone mad. But... that did keep her mind occupied against... other things. Just look at it as another mission. She had a job to do, same as any other. She could put on a smile and look confident in front of news cameras, these people couldn't be that different.

...could they?

The chicken seemed to disagree. 

"Oh, and one more thing."

"GAH!" said Valentina. 

"BUH-GOK!" said the chicken. 

"WAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" said the goat.

"What—" the chicken eyed her back and forth, "what is it now? I thought you were busy having a crisis."

"Well, Ah am, but as long as Ah'm getting all existential anyway, Ah'm supposed t' pass this on: ahem, 'luminous beings are we, not this crude matter. The product of mass and acceleration will be with you, always.'"

"What..." she blinked. The chicken blinked. The goat stared. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"He says, you'll know, when it's time."

"He? Who he? There are more of you in there?? In... here?" Valentina put a hand to her face, "I really have gone mad this time, haven't I?"

"He says you'll know that too. Also, bring a towel. A towel!? Now why in the bloody green blazes would she need..."

"Chadvey? Chadvey??" but he was gone. They. Whatever. The chicken was staring so hard it nearly fell over the seatback. Valentina sighed and rubbed at her temples.

The little airliner rolled level again, parallel with the nearby border. Luminous beings are we... Now why did that seem to make her feel better? Not thinking much of it, she glanced out the window, and what she saw there took her breath away. 

***

"buhGOKWAAAAAAAAAAAAHOINKOINKMOOOOOOOOBAAAAAAAAA!"

Valentina waved feathers and fur out of her face as she finally made it to the door. Apparently livestock had deboarding priority. At the foot of the air stair, the chicken still glared at her. It raised two talons to its eyes before pointing them at her. 

"Buh. Gok!" then it scurried off.

Rolling her eyes again, she took in the thick jungle air. It was amazingly refreshing after being crammed in that airplane for hours. By now, she had spent enough time near the equator that the weather no longer bothered here. There was even a nice breeze blowing in from the east, and—

"Miss... Miss Valentina!"

Frowning, Valentina started down the stairs toward the caller... then had to stop as a tank rattled and squeaked past. She recognized it. Older Ussari model. The turret shell was made from a single steel casting. This turret was scarred by a series of parallel, slightly jagged gouges. They almost looked like—

"Ah, Miss Valentina, pleasure to meet you!" said a rotund, rather damp Kerbal dressed in expensive white fabric that had no place in the jungle. He paused wiping his bald head with a silken handkerchief just long enough to offer her a hand, "Reginald Montgomery Keswick Kerman the Third, at your service!" Her diplomatic skills were immediately tested as she struggled to maintain a smile with her hand squishing in his.

About this time, a platoon of soldiers in full combat gear came marching past, chanting the most peculiar cadence as they did. 

"Esta es la historia..."
"De una señora encantadora!"
"Quien estaba criando a...
"Tres niñas muy encantadoras!"
"Todas ellas tenian cabellos de oro..."
"Como su madre!"
"La más joven lo..."
"Tenia en rizos!"

She watched them go, then realized the sweaty Kerbal was talking again. He had been too busy wiping his brow to notice her attention sway. 

"Bother this heat! I do beg your pardon, ma'am, welcome to the Democratic Plantain Republic of Andacamía. ¡Viva Filipe!"

She blinked, "Felipe?"

"No, no, it's ¡Felipe!," he said, mopping his brow, "do mind how you say it. They don't much care what else we do around here but they're rather particular about that. Or, more formally, Generalissimo Presidente Felipe Pablo Diego José Francisco de Paula Juan Nepomuceno María de los Remedios Cipriano de la Santísima Trinidad Ruiz y Arroz y Frijoles." He pointed across the concrete to a large mural on the side of a building; a grinning fellow looking very sure of himself behind his dark sunglasses, head dramatically cocked, in a white uniform with huge golden epaulettes on his shoulders, a wide-brimmed hat even wider than any Ussari cover, chomping on a thick cigar. 

The mural, above the enormous artillery piece. Looking around the sprawling complex, Valentina saw such murals were all over the place. Along with tanks, jeeps, howitzers... A row of sleek fighters laden with stores lined the runway, helicopters off to one side... All of them middle-aged but very capable-looking Ussari surplus. And then there was the gargantuan tracked... thing in the middle. She had no idea what it was. Some sort of transport, perhaps, bristling with repurposed tank turrets.

She raised an eye... bulge at Reginald as he wiped his brow, "democratic, you say?"

"Quite so, quite so," he wrung the overwhelmed scrap of cloth out, "Andacamia has a long and proud tradition of one Kerb, one vote. ¡Felipe! is the Kerb, and ¡Felipe! has the vote. He's won every election in a landslide for the past twenty or thirty years."

Her eye... bulged a little higher. 

"You see, when one shares the world's longest border with the world's most unstable place, one learns a thing or two about stability for oneself. Officially, the national motto is '¡Viva Felipe!,' but unofficially it's 'si non confectus, non reficiat.'"

Her other eye... bulge went up. 

"'If it ain't broke, don't fix it.'"

"I see," Valentina said flatly, then gestured to the massive collection of military hardware surrounding them, "so all this is not to keep populace in line?"

"Oh, heavens no!" Reginald drew the rag across his bald pate again, "the locals are actually quite fond of their benevolent dictator. The trains are always on time."

"And what about that?!" she pointed to what she had seen from the air. It was a Wall. Not merely a wall, but most undoubtedly a Wall. It stretched to both horizons, which was quite easy to see, since the structure had to be at least a hundred meters high. The only thing taller was the jungle beyond. 

Reginald wiped his head, "that? That's not to keep the locals in. Or even to keep the Cerimans out. It's... well, it's for the local fauna, you see."

Before the question could reach Valentina's lips, a subtle tremor rumbled through the ground. Then again. And again. In a nearby rain puddle, ripples danced back and forth. Then higher. And higher. Thunder seemed to rumble in the distance. 

"¡Ándale, muchachos!" someone cried out, and like a startled flock of birds, the entire base was instantly in motion. 

"¡Arriba, arriba!"

"¡Avíspate!"

"¡El podor de la chancla!"

"¡Pilas, ojo!"

"¡Te sueno la cara!"

"¡Aguas!"

"¡Tu madre siesta con mi perro!"

Soldiers ran this way and that, darting behind cover or crewing weapons. Rifle bots slid home, tank turrets whined, cannon breeches clanged shut. Every barrel, muzzle, laser, and crosshairs turned on the Wall. The whole facility grew disquietingly... quiet.

Then came the sound of splintering wood. Deep in the jungle, great clouds of screaming birds suddenly took to the sky. Trees, meters thick, whipped back and forth like mere blades of grass. 

And punctuating it all, THUD. THUD. THUD. THUD.

The chaos ebbed, and for a moment, all was quiet again. Then Valentina clapped her hands to her ears against an aural onslaught beyond anything she'd heard before. Sound didn't do it justice, is was as if all the cells in her body were suddenly vibrating at every frequency in the spectrum at once. The assault seemed to slip past her clenched fingers, bore through her eardrums, wrap its talons around the base of her spine and wrench it back and forth like the treetops a moment ago. 

Then it happened again. 

And again.

A pause came, or she'd gone completely deaf. Now the very ground seemed to be pulled out from under her feet. She stumbled, swayed, caught herself; and turned an awestruck eye to the Wall. 

BOOM!

The concrete seemed to rise and fall in waves. 

BOOM!

Dust was squeezed out of the joints between blocks, rising to the sky as if trying to escape itself. 

BOOM!

The whole world teetered back and forth. A hideous crackling sound wafted over the base. A single chunk of cement came cascading down the Wall's canted face, exploding against the pavement in a cloud that belied its size. 

No one moved. No one breathed. Fingers hovered, quivering, over triggers. 

At length, the horrid sound returned; but more muted, now, and with the distinct timbre of a thing that had just, unexpectedly, encountered a material quite a bit harder than its own head. 

The trees snapped back and forth again as the thing crashed back off into the jungle, now nursing the world's biggest headache. 

"Todo claro!"

And just like that, the sprawling facility was right back as it was, with marching troops and rattling tanks passing this way and that. 

"Esta es la historia..."
"De un hombre se llama Brady!"

Valentina grabbed a squishy handful of Reginald's shirt (and instantly regretted it), "what on Kerbin was that?!"

He looked at her soberly, wiping his head, "the locals call it, 'el Grande Muerte.' Although I much prefer the Ceriman name, which roughly translates to, 'don't even bother running, you're already boned.'"

She blinked, "wait, you speak Ceriman?"

"Speak it? Oh, heavens no! I'd prefer not to get assaulted just enquiring after the loo. No one around here speaks Ceriman, it's against regulations. But I can understand it well enough," he grinned, and wiped his face. 

Feeling another headache coming on, Valentina rubbed at her temples, "I am sorry, who are you, again?"

"Reginald Montgomery Keswick—"

"Yes, yes," she waved a hand, "but how do you know me? Why do you know me?"

"Hmm? Oh, bother this heat!" he mopped at his brow again, "terribly sorry, I am the corporate liaison from Layland-Wutani. The Company wanted me to escort you back to the Hole personally. Brilliant spot, I must say, faking your own death in such a fitting manner. I'm due to attend the funeral next week on the Company's behalf, I'm certain it will be spectacular. Not a dry eye in the house!" He beamed with a smile that was anything but dry. 

"The—?" Valentina's question was cut off as a Wilhelm scream drew her attention back toward the plane. She turned just in time to see a baggage handler arc gracefully through the air.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOHOOOOHOOOEY!" splat "estoy bien!"

A smack filled the heavy jungle air as Valentina's hand met her face, "excuse me one moment please." 

She quickly located the source of the commotion, "Igor... it is not nice to throw people," she scolded, and then: "but your distance is improving."

Igor scowled, but put down the terrified gate agent, who quickly found somewhere else to be. 

Returning to the round, sweaty Kerbal, she handled the introduction, "Mister, um, Kerman, this is my, er, associate, Igor."

Reginald gaped up in the typical fashion, his dripping face forgotten for the moment, "my word..."

It was a short moment. "Yes, well, I suppose the pilot shall have to make some adjustments to the weight and balance sheet," he mumbled as he wiped his gleaming head.

"Is it long flight?" Valentina asked. 

"Typically around an hour, depending," he wrung his handkerchief out and continued, "bother this heat."

"Depending on what?"

"On whether or not we get shot down," wipe, wipe, wipe.

Now it was Valentina's turn to gape in bewilderment. Igor rumbled disconcertingly. 

"It's Cerima beyond that Wall," he pointed, before returning to blotting, "even the friendlies are unfriendly. That's why we have that for moving the heftier stages." He nodded toward the huge armored thing she'd seen earlier, sending a few drops of sweat flying. Looking closer, she could see the scars and patches covering its metallic flank. 

"But, that's enough of that talk! Stiff upper lip and all that rot!" Reginald gave a bright, drippy... and just slightly forced smile, "shall we go meet the flight crew?"

Across the concrete apron, there was, of course, a Converter waiting. Next to a pair of Ceriman gunships. And Reginald seemed to be sweating just a bit more. 

 

 

Special thanks to @vsully for the only foreign-language text in the story not horribly butchered. :D Any actual linguistic errors are entirely my own. And probably intentional. Maybe. I'm lying. Also:

Spoiler

 

9MqG6.gif

Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter...

1280_debbie_reynolds_carrie_fisher_16122

The Force will be with you... always...

 

 

 

Edited by CatastrophicFailure
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3 hours ago, lodger said:

Never forget to bring a towel. Never ever!

Never know when you might be able to take a dip with the Kraken in his its private pool, y'see.

Also - RIP Carrie Fisher. At least they wrapped Episode VIII before she died.

ALSO - I like the spanish insults while they are scrambling... I almost woke my family up laughing.

Edited by vsully
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Nice Felipe shout-out. :) And no - never, ever forget your towel. Poor Reggie there - now he forgot his towel. And also a much larger handkerchief.

And remember - never trust... the chicken.

Edited by KSK
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6 hours ago, CatastrophicFailure said:

It raised two talons to its eyes before pointing them at her. 

"Buh. Gok!" then it scurried off.

 

I seriously hope we see the chicken again.... that was great!!!!

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22 hours ago, Just Jim said:

 

I seriously hope we see the chicken again.... that was great!!!!

Who knows... perhaps the Chicken™ is a sign of more... insidious things than a fowl...
Can the Kraken corrupt delicious birds? Maybe... The Kraken raised two tentacles to his its eyes before pointing them at her... Then it summoned the chicken to its abode on Bop via chicken-shuttle (the Buh. Gok!) and ate it.

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15 hours ago, CatastrophicFailure said:

Well it looks like I'm obligated to bring the chicken back at some point, now. :D

Seriously, I loved the chicken, and the goat! From a writers POV, I think it was a brilliant way to not just set the scene, but also establish that Valentina is seriously walking on the edge of the Lunatic Fringe, so to speak. Like being on a bus in a "Twilight Zone" episode.... "Is this real, or have I fallen down a rabbit hole???"

 

Edited by Just Jim
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Whoops, missed this...

On 12/30/2016 at 4:48 PM, 0111narwhalz said:

I think you're sitting in the wrong seat. It's "His eyes! His eyes!:sticktongue:

Quite so, quite so, the emphasis is always on the second "eyes.":wink:

 

On 12/29/2016 at 5:26 AM, Just Jim said:

I seriously hope we see the chicken again....

So, this... thing... sort of creeped into my head. And now it's distracting me. So I'm dropping it here to get it out of my head so I can go back to trying to transliterate Ceriman. Ah, the perils of an overactive imagination. :rolleyes:

 

Absolutely not a half-baked promo for an ill-conceived spin-off script!

 

Coming this spring to KRBL-TV3 (in color where available)!

He's a washed up former Kerbonaut with a thirst for justice, and he's... a chicken. And together they're cleaning up the mean streets of Kerbin City in this season's grittiest new cop show! 

They are:

Derpy... and the Bird!

[cue 70's disco wacka-wacka]

Featuring:!

A cigar-chomping hard-nose police chief!

"My office...NOW!"

A shifty internal affairs guy!

"You can't put a chicken on the police force!"

"I'll have you know that chicken is a Master of the ancient art of Cluck-Fu!"

Adequately choreographed but horribly dubbed fight scenes! 

"Bwaaaaaa-GOK!" 

*THUMP!*
*BIFF!*
*SOCK!*
*BAM!*

"Ouch, my shin!"

The red-shirt rookie!

"Is it bad, Derp?"

"You just stubbed your toe, ayuh."

"Tell my wife I love her! *gak*"

"NOOOOOOOOOO!"

A corrupt politician...

"Ah did not. Have. Textual relations. With that. Chicken."

The Teflon Don Totally legitimate businesskerb...

"I'm gonna build a big, beautiful mall... and bury you under it! It'll be yuge!"

A wisecracking foreign national of questionable immigration status...

"I've got you now, Derpy and the Bird!"

[screeeeeeeeeech] *thump* "In Ussari Union, cab find you!*"

"Ouch, my shins!"

With a soundtrack featuring brand
new hits from three guys who sound like they just got kicked in the jimmys...

"♫Hah-hah-hah-hah stayin' alive, stayin' alive!♫"

And all the latest fashion...

[record scratch]"why... why you dress like that?! Put chest hair away, look like bear in clown suit!"

You can run, but you can't hide, from...

Derpy... and the Bird!

"I'll get you for this Bird! And you too, Derpy!"

"It's prrrrrrrronounced," [clang!] "Dor-pay."

"Buh-Gok!*"

Joolsday nights at 9, only on KRBL!

"Hi, Ah'm bill, this is Don, we're your new cellmates!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!"

 

We now return you to your regularly scheduled story...

 

Edited by CatastrophicFailure
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You had to do it didn't you. You just had to... :) 

In the interests of getting this out of my head, I give you verse one of Derpay and the Chicken, with most sincere and heartfelt apologies to the Travelling Wilburys.

Derpay and the Chicken were hard up fo' cash
So they stayed up all night building boosters from trash
For a rocketeer racketeer with a partner named Jan
For reasons unexplained, she loved that Chicken, man
Now Derpay was a kerbonaut ‘for he went to Cerima
And found out the hard way that nobody gives a da....
They got themselves a sweet deal just across the county line
So they hopped into a Converter – took flight route 99.

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6 hours ago, CatastrophicFailure said:

A corrupt politician...

"Ah did not. Have. Textual relations. With that. Chicken."

[...]

With a soundtrack featuring brand
new hits from three guys who sound like they just got kicked in the jimmys...

"♫Hah-hah-hah-hah stayin' alive, stayin' alive!♫"

 

@CatastrophicFailure and @KSK: you pople just made my day! :D

Edited by lodger
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For god's sake, I just hope the bird is the driver of the red sportscar with the white 'L' stripe, and not Dor-pay. That chicken got to get his-self some platform shoes man! The brakes man, the brakes!

Edited by Patupi
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On January 6, 2017 at 0:42 AM, CatastrophicFailure said:

Coming this spring to KRBL-TV3 (in color where available)!

YES! 

You need to make this! That would be so cool!

"And now, the guys we all wish we could be! The bane of street kugs! The terror of kangstas! The ingesters of korn kernels, beetles, and cheeseburgers! The Gok of Buh'ers! The Dorp of Pay! Please welcome ~ Derpy Kermuuuuuuuun and  ~ DA CHICKEEEEENNNN!!!"

"Actually, it's Door-PAY."
"BUH-GOOOOOK!"

*awkward silence*

"And now for our weather forekast tonight..."

Edited by vsully
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