Slyfox

Hanky Panky or Chapter The Conclusion

Welcome to the next exciting episode of Dongoball W! If you bothered watching the last predictable episode with lots of flashy special effects and hard rock music, you’d know that our heroic heros were in deep shit! And not any kind of deep shit! They were in deep smelly brahmin shit!

When we last left them, Dongo was about ready to write (and pass) an exam about what he had eaten that day, Harold was thoroughly blaming Dongo for Life, The Universe and Everything Else, and Spud was hovering about, muttering Oriental-sounding bull.

And, in the other corner, we had Hank Forrigan — bad-ass mutant with suicidal/homicidal tendencies! Weighing in at… well, every scale they put him on had broken… but anyway! He’s a whole lot of pounds of pure super-armour steel! And gun metal! And a lot of 5mm ammunition!

Whatever will happen in this fantastic conclusion to Dongo Weener’s tale, a story of epic proportions and superb character development? (So I’m a liar, okay?) Stay tuned to find out ? in today’s thrilling episode of… Dongoball W!!!

Round 1: The Foreplay

“I’m figuring… and this is just hypothetically speaking, you know? But I’m thinking that if I would have a mid-life crisis, this would probably be it.”

“What? Locked in Vault 69 with a huge maniac of a super-mutant, surrounded by gory carnage?”

“That’s the one.”

“Okay. You forgot something, though…”

“Oh?”

“You’re responsible for all of this.”

“I’m going to hit you.”

If you were anything like Hank Forrigan, you’d be getting pretty pissed off at this Dongo/Harold bitchfest. That means you probably enjoy depression and carnage as well, but let’s not dwell from the point here, hmm?

In any event, Hank spinned off a couple of rounds into the ceiling, bringing down a tube light and a liver in the same fluid motion.

“Silence! I demand that you pay attention to me!”

Dongo looked at Harold. “He’s such an attention whore, isn’t he?”

Later on in his life, Dongo wrote a book titled 101 Things Not To Say In The Presence of A Manical Mutant. That particular saying was pretty much number one on the list. All said and done, Hank didn’t like that remark very much. (And the book didn’t sell well… it didn’t sell at all. Jinxed people. Gotta laugh at ‘em.)

“Raaaa!”, went the mutant and blazed a trail of destruction throughout the chamber. Luckily (or unluckily, depending on your opinion on this story), our three amazing adventurers had escaped into one of the passages leading deep within the bowels of the Vault.

Round 2: Back Passage Action

Dongo called for a stop by collapsing against a pipe running down the wall. Between gasps for breaths, he asked: “D’you think he’s still after us?”

Before Harold could think up some insult veiled as an answer, they heard a scream of primal rage and the crashing of concrete.

The obvious course of action was of course to run. So they did. Until Dongo wussed out again, leaning against a door.

“Let’s go in here. Maybe he’ll pass us by.”

For once, the other two did something that Dongo suggested and slipped through the door after him.

As the door closed behind them, Harold located the light switch and flicked it on.

“Hey! Cool! A projector!”, exclaimed Dongo and hustled on over to the stock equipment of any home-video maker or porn conneiseur.

Seconds later, another exclamation passed Dongo’s lips. “Hey! Cool! Some videos!”

Yet another few seconds later, a gasp of pleasure escaped Dongo’s cranium. “Oh my… This is top-rated porn! Vault Sexteen, Good Will Humping, Pokeahotass…”

“Yes, I’m rather proud of my collection. Let’s have a looksee at them, hmmm?”, said Hank, who had entered the room unseen in the excitement over Dongo’s discovery.

“Oh yes, could we?”, asked Dongo eagerly.

And so the four friends settled down and began watching Vault Sexteen, making lewd remarks about the porn stars. After several minutes of this, they realised that something was missing. Namely, Hank throwing a temper fit and trying to kill them all.

“Oh. Of course. I’m so sorry. My bad.”, offered Hank as an apology. Then he began shooting the ceiling out as a replacement to saying “I am angry. You are meat.”

Naturally, Dongo and company ran again.

Round 3: Vatty Voods

They stopped again, but not because of Dongo wussing out, but because of the chamber they had entered. Big and roomy and dirty and… green.

Several big vats filled with a greenish liquid were scattered around the chamber. The liquid was all fizzly and radioactive. It didn’t look like anything the three of them would drink, and that’s saying a lot.

“Wowee…”, whispered Dongo in awe, “What in the name of all that is post-apocylaptic is this?”

“A big room with vats containing green stuff. I’m just guessing here, though,” replied our neighbourhood wise-ass iguana.

A door slid open at the other end of the chamber, revealing Hank’s ugly bulk stepping into the chamber. For once, not waving his guns around and shooting random things.

“This is where I was created, my unworthy foes! Dunked in each and every one of these vats until I became the supreme sex-crazed genetical horror you see before you now.”

He paused for a moment, considering what he had just said.

“Yes, that’s perfectly right! Supreme sex-crazed genetical horror! Muhahah! Bow down before your master!”

Dongo leaned over to Harold and Spud. “Who here besides me thinks he’s got some really bad gay tendencies?”

Hank bashed a minigun against a wall pipe. “Silence! I am now going to tell you my grand plan! Listen!”

Clearing his throat, Hank continued: “I shall create an army of mutants like me, and take over the world! And I shall rename myself! I will be known as… the Overlord! So, what do you guys think?”

Dongo rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, Hank. That’s sooo last year. Mutant armies aren’t cool anymore. Everybody’s jumping on the psychological warfare bandwagon nowadays. You know, subliminal messaging, brainwave modification, head trauma infliction, that kinda thing.”

Harold continued: “And the Overlord? Come on Hank. Use some imagination. That sounds so like the Master, and look what became of him!”

Hank’s face fell a couple of miles, busting open some rocks. “Hey, you guys really think so?”

Dongo, Harold and Spud nodded solemnly.

Hank brightened up suddenly. “Well, luckily for me, mutant intelligence only goes so far! And right know it’s telling me to kill kill kill!”

And then he started shooting at them again. They started running again.

Final Round: Short Circuit, Long Circuit — You Decide

When we last left Dongo and Co., they were busy doing the running thing. They didn’t care where they were running to, as long as it was the other way that Hank was.

Which brought them to the final destination in the vault: the power core. Big zappy electriconics and blinking consoles. And dirty porn magazines from either Hank or the previous occupants of the vault.

At the end of the room was a big console with big, round, inviting buttons, just screaming: “Push me! Push me!”

Dongo, of course, was instantaneously attracted to the console and headed on over to it, even ignoring the porn magazines.

“Dongo… don’t you think that could be dangerous?”

“What? No. Not at all, no.”

His eyes glazed over as he looked at the buttons marked with big words such as ‘Master Station’, ‘Bypass Safety Checks’ and ‘Yougottabemadtopushthis’.

Predictably, Hank’s bulk filled the doorway again. “What do you think you’re doing?! Get away from there!”

He punctuated that statement with a round of bullets, cracking the console a bit and exposing some of the electronical innards.

Panicking, Dongo pressed a random button. Hank gasped. Harold began looking around for shelter, and Spud initiated the Getta-Hell-Outta-Here teleportation ritual.

From deep within the bowels of the vault’s machinery, a clanking sound emanated from the pipes, causing any loose objects to shudder in fear of what was to come. Just when Dongo thought his ears would burst, a vent popped open and a Nuka-Cola landed in his hands.

“Enjoy!”, said the vault computer cheerfully.

Dongo looked bemused at the bottle in his hands, then looked up at the others. Hank had begun laughing, and was sure to blast the hell out of them when he was done. Looking back down at the bottle, he decided “To hell with it”, and opened it.

Now, during the clanking and clunking through the vault vending system, it had become pretty shaken up. Opening it, resulted in a spectacular spray of Nuka-Cola, most of which landed on the exposed circuitry of the console.

As luck would have it… well, really now, let’s not fool ourselves. As Dongo’s jinxedness would have it, it caused several short circuits, resulting in a major bypass of every safety feature known to vault technicians, and a couple more that had come in by accident. The result isn’t nice, as the vault computer informed them.

“Guess what, folks? You screwed up! Power core implosion imminent. Have a nice time dying!”

Hank readied his miniguns, raised the barrels and pointed it at the trio. “Goodbye, then. Nice not knowing you.”

He pulled the trigger, and a dull click emanated from the miniguns works. “Out of ammo?”

Dongo, Harold and Spud took the chance the mutant’s confusion gave them and dashed past him, back into the vault. Pursuit was rapidly given (gift-wrapped in shiny metal armour!).

To cut a long and boring vault chase short, they ended up back at the entrance of the vault, where the entry door was still sealed tighter than the Vault Dweller’s suit fits on female player characters.

Having discarded the empty miniguns and opting instead for the energized Blade Thingy, Hank grinned like the fool he entirely was. “Where to now, foolish humans?”

At that moment, Zappy the power core decided to spoil the mutant bastard’s fun and imploded. Which actually caused a big explosion, but let’s not get technical, okay?

In any event, the shockwave rumbled up through Hank’s power armour, pulverising and slicing and dicing all the way through. Not for use as blending device, though. Except if you like seriously radiated foodstuffs.

As Hank fell apart, the shockwave kept on rumbling towards the terrified three, Spud regained enough presence of mind to call on his Petunia Powers.

The sacred Petunia Power ritual that Spud invoked went something along the lines of this: “Ohgodwe’reindeepshitneedhelprightnowplease!”

After a nanosecond of deliberation, the Petunia Party (big-assed holy petunia’s who sit around in Petunhalla all day and drink completely silly amounts of beer) plopped a big whale who had been pissing them off for a long time in front of Dongo, Harold and Spud.

A nanosecond later, the shockwave hit the whale, obliterating it and spewing giblets of whalemeat all over the chamber wall. The implosion then decided tgat it had enough fun for the day and stopped acting like a destructive bastard.

And thus, after a really big amount of destruction, mayhem, madness and cheap sex, the chamber, for once, was silent.

Until Dongo broke the silence by hurling a good amount of swallowed whale meat from underneath the gooey mass he was buried beneath. Harold and Spud quickly followed suit.

“Well, Dongo. At least you not being able to catch potatoes kept us from dying.”

Dongo stood astride a section of whalebone and proclaimed loudly: “I have found my purpose in life! To destroy Hank, the biggest menace next to Dennis! I feel on top of the world! Dongo Weener and friends, able to face any odds!”

On completion of that statement, the entrance door was largely removed via a great amount of explosives and a well-muscled figure with a military storehouse strapped to his back leapt into the chamber.

Looking as if he was about ready to pop a vein, The Picked Guy pointed a very angry finger at Dongo. “You! Where the in the name of hell is my Chrysalis Highwayman?!”

Spud sighed and shook his head the way enlightened ones usually do when faced with bumbling idiots like Dongo who think they’re enlightened, but couldn’t screw in a light bulb when someone else does it for them.

As for Harold, he glared at Dongo in the time-honoured tradition. “You just had to open your big mouth, didn’t you?”

As for Dongo, he looked up at the sky, up at his deity of choice, up at Mrs. Continuum, and asked them the Final Question: “You just had to go and choose that odd, now didn’t you?”

END