Zerg Canadians

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Consequences of Uncontrolled Gluttony - Part 2
By _Ravil
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[Scene: Washington D.C. A gentle breeze whistles through the city streets, which are completely empty. Not a single soul remains in this city. There is only one place in the entirety of the city that there is any activity whatsoever: The White House. And it is not what one would expect. The floor of the White House suddenly splits open, tearing through the concrete and the carpet. Several Canuckalisks leap out, prepared for a fight. However, none is given to them. Grunting in disappointment, they proceed to secure the area as Ravil and Cydric ascend to the surface.]

Ravil: ALL RIGHT BOYS, LET’S GIVE ‘EM – wait a minute, where is everyone?

Cydric: Hmmm…doesn’t look like there’s anyone home.

Ravil: BUT THERE HAS TO BE SOMEONE HOME!! THIS IS THE WHITE HOUSE, FOR CRIPES’ SAKE!!

Cydric: (Shrugs) Maybe Turtle was right. Maybe the entire American government went up north to Canada to buy—

Ravil: Toilets! Check the toilets!

[They dash into the nearest washroom, and are surprised to be staring at not a beautiful 3.5-gallon-per-flush toilet, but a crappy (literally, in this case) 1.6-gallon toilet. It is completely clogged up, and the smell is quite overwhelming.]

Ravil: Pee-yeew! Okay, so maybe they fell for our little plan as well. Guess there’s only one thing to do.

Cydric: And what would that be, sire?

[Ravil flops down on a White House couch and turns on the television.]

Ravil: We wait.

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[Scene: New York City. As with Washington D.C., everybody in the city has gone north to Canada to purchase new crappers. Everybody except one certain individual, who is still curled up in bed in his penthouse apartment, having slept through Halloween, and thus was not made ill by its effects.]

Lion-O: *SNORE*

[Suddenly, the ground begins to shake. Pictures fall of the wall, books tip off of the shelf, and uncleaned dishes fall off of the counter, shattering on the floor below. Lion-O’s pattern of snoring suddenly ceases.]

Lion-O: Wha-wha? Hey, what’s going on? We don’t have earthquakes in New York!

[He rushes out to his window, and looks down. Several stories down, Turtle’s strike force of several dozen Canuckalisks, as well as the tempermental Zergling himself, puffing on a cigar as always, have emerged from beneath the ground, tearing up a large segment of the street. Lion-O is taken completely aback by all of this.]

Lion-O: HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING DOWN THERE??

[Down below, Turtle is recieving a report from one of his scouts.]

Turtle: The ENTIRE city is deserted, you say?

Canuckalisk: *GRUNT* *GRUNT* *GRUNT* *GRUNT*

Turtle: Hmmm…it seems that Ravil’s plan has worked a little TOO well. How are we supposed to mutilate, maim, and wreck havoc upon this city when there isn’t anybody here?

[Suddenly, Lion-O’s yelling can be heard over the disgruntled grunting (hehe…cool little pun) of the Canuckalisks. All eyes turn upwards.]

Lion-O: …AND I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT I’M NOT ABOUT TO TAKE IT!! IF YOU WANT TO TEAR UP CITY PROPERTY, THEN GO DOWN TO FLORIDA WHERE NOBODY CARES!!

Turtle: Hmm….perhaps you grunted too soon. CANUCKALISKS…ATTACK!!

Lion-O: Uh-oh…

[The Canuckalisks charge towards the building, and promptly begin to tear it apart at the foundations. The building begins to crumble. Inside, Lion-O charges down the stairs, shotgun in hand, prepared to defend his city from the Zerg Canadian menace. He finally reaches the main level and raises his shotgun.]

Lion-O: All right you bastards! It’s time you found out what New York is all about!

[He fires, but misaims, and blows a gouging hole in the ceiling, inadvertedly striking one of the many clogged 1.6-gallon-per-flush toilets above him. A lot of…stuff…starts coming down from the ceiling, covering Lion-O and making him smell like a rose.]

Lion-O: Eyuck!

[Outside…]

Canuckalisk: *GRUNT* *GRUNT* *GRUNT*

Turtle: (Impatiently) I don’t CARE what he reeks of. Go in there and disembowel him!

Canuckalisk: *GRUNT*

Turtle: (Growls) This is bordering on mutiny. Very well…it doesn’t look like we can do anything destructive here. It’s no fun tearing a city to pieces unless somebody gives a damn. Let’s go back to Canada and see if we can’t stomp on some of the toilet customers.

Canuckalisk: (Eagerly) *GRUNT* *GRUNT*

[The Zerg Canadians begin their withdrawl from New York City.]

Lion-O: Running away already? Had enough, eh? COME BACK YOU PANSIES - oh well…

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[Scene: The Windsor toilet manufacturing plant, under the control of the Zerg Canadians. Toilet sales have reached an all-time high, as millions upon millions of people are now in Ontario, purchasing 3.5-gallon-per-flush toilets. In the middle of this crowd, surrounded by bodyguards, is the President of the United States, allowing his Secret Service agents to elbow his way through the crowd to the front, so that they can purchase a new toilet or twenty for their C-in-C.]

President: Hurry up, hurry up! I WANT MY TOILET!

Person in Crowd: Shut up! Wait your turn and stop gripeing!

President: DON’T YOU KNOW WHO I AM?

PiC: Does it look like I CARE?!? If I don’t get a 3.5-gallon toilet soon, then I’m going to end up hurling my guts all over Canadian soil!

President: (To Secret Service agent) I don’t know how much longer I can stand in this crowd for. Get me through to the front NOW!

[Nodding, the Secret Service agents point their guns in the air and start firing madly. The crowd scatters in panic, leaving the way to the factory wide and open.]

President: (Grinning wickedly) Good job, boys! Now let’s get that toilet!

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[Scene: Back at the White House. Ravil and Cydric have been channel-surfing for all of six hours, and the Canuckalisks have been amusing themselves by playing tic-tac-toe on some of the pictures in the hallways. Ravil glances at the clock for the hundredth time.]

Ravil: You know, Cydric, this definitley isn’t working out the way I had been hoping.

Cydric: You know, if the President is in the grotesque lineup outside of Windsor, then it might be an idea to go back and get him there. It would certainly save us some time.

Ravil: (Tapping a claw on the lamp table) Hmm…you know, that’s not such a bad idea. It would certainly beat sitting here watching "I Love Lucy" reruns.

[The King of the Canuckalisks gets up, stretches his back, and whistles sharply. All of the Canuckalisks come rampaging down to meet their master.]

Ravil: We’re going back, pronto. The American government obviously isn’t here, and equally obviously won’t be back anytime soon. It will be faster if we go back to Windsor and catch him in the lineup of people trying to buy new toilets.

[The Canuckalisks bellow their approval, and head back towards their tunnel. Ravil quickly follows, leaving Cydric there in the White House living room, scratching his head.]

Cydric: (After a moment) Well…wasn’t THIS just a phenomonal waste of time.

Ravil: (From another room) Shut up, Cydric! Let’s go!

[The Defiler follows, and very quickly the White House is abandoned again, the only sign of uninvited guests having been there being a few games of tic-tac-toe clawn over George Washington’s picture, and a large hole in the floor.]

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[Scene: The Windsor toilet plant, two days later. By now, everyone in America has purchased a new 3.5-gallon toilet, so the grounds outside of the plant are deserted. Ravil, Cydric, and a pack of very pleased Canuckalisks unburrow just outside of the manufacturing facility. Cydric is clad almost completely in Mickey Mouse attire. Ravil does not look happy.]

Ravil: (To the Canuckalisks) You idiots! How could you POSSIBLY have gotten lost under there for so long?? All that we had to do was follow the tunnels back to Canada! And yet somehow we ended up in DISNEYLAND! I am completely surrounded by incompotent fools!

Cydric: (Whispering to a Canuckalisk) Don’t tell him.

Canuckalisk: *GRUNT*

[Suddenly, Turtle meanders up to the seething Hydralisk and delivers a sharp salute. Ravil turns about to face him.]

Ravil: Ah, Turtle. Well, at least SOMETHING went according to plan. New York City is in ruins, I take it?

Turtle: Um…ah…well, some of it.

Ravil: (Suspiciously) How much?

Turtle: Kind of…one building.

Ravil: (Starts beating his head against a wall) I…am…surrounded…by…idiots…

Turtle: Well, it was a NICE building…

Ravil: WHY DIDN’T YOU LAY WASTE TO THE ENTIRE CITY LIKE I TOLD YOU TO?!?

Turtle: There wasn’t anybody there. They were all up here buying new toilets. And by the time we got back HERE…

Ravil: …everybody was gone. That seems to be the big excuse of the week. I can’t believe this…all of our plans, completely wiped out! Now everybody in America has a 3.5-gallon-per-flush toilet, they’re all back home, the country’s defenses will be back up, we’re down a Canuckalisk-crap dumping ground, and stuck with a worthless toilet manufacturing plant! The irony of it all!

Cydric: Look at the bright side, sire. We got to behead Mickey Mouse!

Ravil: (Shakes his head in disbelief) I…am…surrounded…by…idiots. *SIGH* Let’s go back home, my lackeys. Tomorrow till be a new day.

Cydric: What are we going to do tomorrow, Ravil?

Ravil: (That look of malevolence returning to his face) What we do every day, Cydric. Try to take over the United States!

[With that, Ravil, Cydric, Turtle, and their cohort of Canuckalisks burrow back out West. Once more, the United States can sleep easy, knowing that its borders are safe from the Zerg Canadian threat. But as he said…tomorrow is another day…]
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