The Zerg Canadian Civil War Part 5 - "Zerg War, The Musical"
[Scene: Somewhere far beneath a hoodoo in the Canadian province of Alberta, where the sun never shines and TV reception is poor. All is in darkness. Scraping and clawing noises can be heard intermittantly as a vast Zerg army makes its way east...]
Canuckalisks: *GRUNT*! *GRUNT* *GRUNT*, *GRUNT* *GRUNT* *GRUNT*!
Canuckalisks: *GRUNT*? *GRUNT* *GRUNT*. *GRUNT* *GRUNT*....
Turtle: By Zerus! Stop that singing, you idiots. We're almost upon the Home Lair. Besides, none of you can carry a tune, anyway.
Single Canuckalisk: *GRUNT*?
Turtle's voice (sounding pained): Of course we're headed the right way. We attacked through this tunnel before, remember? How many times do I have to -
Canuckalisk (sounding concerned): *GRUNT* *GRUNT*
Turtle (growling): Oh, for the hate of... Would someone strike a light?
[A hissing noise signals the use of a match. A moment later, a dim, dancing light reveals the insides of the tunnel and its occupants, which consist of Turtle, the Canuckalisk Geek and the remainder of the rebel Zerg Canadian army. The Surralisks, looking anything but pleased, are bound to the backs of the surviving Canuckalisks. One Canuckalisk twirls a sparkler in its mouth.]
Turtle: Okay, Geek. Listen closely. We've attacked the throne room once before. Only a fool would do so again. That is exactly why we're going to strike it this time. Ravil will be caught totally off guard!
Canuckalisk Geek (looking doubtful): *GRUh...*
Turtle: "But" nothing! How many Zerg hordes have you commanded?
[The Geek shrugs. Behind him, a Canuckalisk is hopping about, pretending that the flailing wings sprouting from its back are flapping under its own power.]
Turtle: I thought so. Forward, my minions! ...And so help me, Geek, if you step on me one more time, I'll bite your heel off.
[The sparkler is abruptly swallowed and as one the band surges ahead, towards the home of the Canuckalisk king. Before long, the darkness of the tunnel loses its edge. Sensing that their moment is at hand, the Canuckalisk sweep forward, barreling headlong into the palace. Tusks flash, gnarled bodies surge across the room ... right into the wall on the other side. The room is empty, except for the torches and equipment that Ravil and his cohorts have left behind.]
Turtle: Kill! Maim! Dest- ... What in the blazes? The king isn't in his throne room? Ravil, you diabolical... Canuckalisks, fan out and find me our quarry!
[The army offers blank looks in response]
Turtle (slowly): Get... Ravil.
[The Canuckalisks bellow in approval. Within seconds, the throne room is a thrashing field of activity as paintings are torn down and furniture is overturned. Several soldier 'lisks begin kicking over pebbles zealously, on the chance that Zerg are hidden under them. One Canuckalisk roars a challenge down the corridor to the Lair's other quarters and gets startled by the echo. Typically, the rest of the army (excluding the Canuckalisk Geek) wheels to face this new threat and vanishes from the room.]
Turtle (shaking his head): Ugh. What buffoons. Geek, help me figure this vid unit out. It may hold a clue.
Geek: *GRUNT*! (The Geek approaches Ravil's still-unaccounted-for communication device, and in true tech support fashion, gives it a solid whack. An automated voice begins).
Machine (Ravil's voice): ...thing to work? Oh. Hello. You have reached the underground lair of Ravil, KING OF THE CANUCKALISKS! If you're the president of the United States and wish to announce your surrender, please leave your message at the scream. If you're anyone else ... get lost. Thank you!
[The machine emits a human scream. For a moment, Turtle and the Geek are overcome with emotion - The sound is so beautiful. Then, the messages begin.]
Machine (impossibly cheery male voice): Hi there! I'm calling from the Charleston Inn, confirming your 30 room booking for this weekend. Contrary to what you might have heard, we ARE still open in SPITE of the bombings. Expect a few minor renovations and a GREAT view from your suite. Well, ta! (click)
Machine (nervous young woman): Um ... That ... was an interesting beep. Uh, this is Carla? Calling for the Toronto Star? Your paper will be ready when you arrive? Charleston, room 205? Um, goodbye? (click)
Machine (booming, reverberant voice): My children... I am the OVERMIND ... Damn, I hate answering machines...
Turtle: Okay, I've heard enough. Stop the playback.
[The Geek thumps the vid again and it goes silent.]
Turtle: Geek, I've determined where Ravil has gone. We march to the east! Once there, we shall feed upon the spoils of war!! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!
[The camera swings away from the laughing Zergling general as he scuttles theatrically towards the corridor that his troops disappeared down. The corridor leads east - east to glory, to triumph ... to the kitchen?]
Turtle (entering through the kitchen door): I'll be a dark day on Terra that I conquer on an empty stomach.
[Somewhere much further east, and two days later. Ravil, Cydric, and honour guard of Canuckalisks, a frog and an odd assortment of people are in the lobby of the Charleston Inn in Toronto. Cydric is holding a regular telephone up to Ravil's face, which buzzes with muted conversation. An elevator dings and opens, but soon closes, as its stock-character occupant decides to check whether he locked his room for the fifth time.]
Phone: Ehshemen za beff nun hait zrfr nsthuh-huh!
Ravil: This wasn't part of the agreement, Fron. I was told that we were to lead an attack on the city!
Phone: Ull, zewurz xin wuvt.
Ravil: I'm starting to get the feeling that we're being played for fools. Does Maggott need us or not? I will not -
Phone: Nih vuyeet wuf ah cunnanner?
Ravil: Yes, yes, yes. He's right here. But, well, he's kind of ... green.
Kermit D. Frog: Hey! It's not easy being green!
Phone: Mm zhr idell wurk ut. Gudi, Ruhvl.
Ravil: Don't hang up on me! Hey! I know what you did last summer! You... Ah, crap!
Cydric (cringing): Did the call not go well, Si- Uh! (Cydric is knocked unconscious by the receiver as Ravil slaps it out of his claw in anger).
Kermit: Oooh... That hurts. I know. I married Ms. Piggy. (He laughs his sandpaper laugh).
Ravil: Shut up! I've got enough disturbing me without having to think about THAT. What was Maggott thinking? The war has moved towards the new capital of London, and I get left here to mop up with a bunch of sock puppets!
Kermit (hurt): Well... That's not entirely accurate... Besides, we're full of bitter displeasure of the cancellation of our show. And the impending cancellation of our new show. And the poor reception of our movies. And the future movies! In fact, I'm downright hopping mad now! (He proves his point).
Ravil: Whatever. Get me a progress report on the Maggottonian 54th Airborne Division. I just hope that they give me an excuse to make an entree out of you.
Kermit: Gulp! Uhhh... Mr. Honeydew's on that right now. Bunsen! Bunseeeeeenn!
[Kermit trots over to the checkout counter where Bunsen Honeydew stands ready. Beaker is there, standing ramrod straight with several coils of tin foil wrapped about his body. The coils are charged from a simple wall socket, and periodically send arcs zapping through the helpless assistant's head.]
Beaker: Meep-meep-meep! Meeep, meeep, meeep! Meep-meep-meep!
Bunsen: What can I do for you Kermit?
Kermit: Progress report, Mr. Honeydew. This Zerg here wants answers.
Bunsen: What great timing! Squadron Leader was just checking in right now!
Beaker (by the miracle of cut-and-paste): Meep-meep-meep! Meeep, meeep, meeep! Meep-meep-meep!
Ravil (suspiciously): That doesn't sound like a message.
Bunsen (beaming): On the contrary, my good ... thing. It's actually a highly advanced code developed by yours truly. Observe! (He pulls a piece of paper off of the counter, which contains a diagram of a fusion reactor made easy, a recipe for clam chowder made from copper II sulphate, and ... the scribblings of a message. He offers the page to Ravil, who only glares at him. The Muppet shrugs, adjusts his glasses uncomfortably and reads.)
Bunsen: Why do Muppets like to prance? It's the Great Muppet Caper! Wocka... wocka... wocka.
Ravil: That's a message?! Are you sure you deciphered it correctly?
Kermit (who is turning a fine shade of yellow): Erp...
[High above the city of Toronto, and the heads of Ravil's ground troops, Maggottonian fighters swoop and dive, destroying targets seemingly at random. The 54th Maggottonian Division is piloted entirely by Muppets. Flying even more erratically than most is Squadron Leader, who is torturing his passenger with inhuman glee.]
Fozzie: ...and then I said, "Bear it? I can bear anything!" Wocka, wocka, wocka!
Sam the Eagle: Ohhhh... I believe I've just developed a fear of flying. What an undignified position for such a vaunted American Symbol.
Dr. Teeth (over the intercom): Hey, leader man! I just saw a kid with a Teletubbies lunchbox! Commensin' bombin' run!
Statler (also over the intercom): If you ask me, we've bombed this mission already!
Statler and Waldorf (together): Woah, ho, ho, ho! Woah, ha, ha!
Waldorf: Hey, Statler. Are you flying the plane?
Statler: Are you kidding? I've been heckling for 70 years. When would I have learned?
Statler and Waldorf (together): Woah, ho, ho, ho! Woah, ha - *pffffsssshhchhhhchhhhtttt*...
Fozzie: Wow! That reminds me of another joke!
Sam: Go figure.
Fozzie: Okay. A young man walks into an office, and there's this older man sitting behind a desk. The young man says, "Aren't you a little too old to be working here?" and the old man answers, ... What the Fuzzy Wuzzy is that??
Zoot the Sax (breaking in over the speaker): Dude! That joke was funnier than his usual, man. Like, comparatively speaking.
Fozzie: No, look! I'm serious!
Zoot: Ha, ha, ha! Like, you crack me up.
[Suddenly, in the city street below, Turtle and his loyal Canuckalisks begin to swell up out of a hole in the ground, the zergling General trying in vain to make himself heard over the roar of the Maggottonian engines. Ravil's Canuckalisks, which had been free to raid all of the delis they could find moments before, were now rushing to confront their equals, which had seemingly appeared from nowhere. As the Muppets circle to get a better view, the ground seems to boil and the fighting increases in intensity. But there is more. As the rogue Canuckalisks surface, winged horrors, the Surralisks, lift off from their backs, forming a cloud of death and destruction that threatens to consume Ravil's grounded forces.]
Fozzie: Our armies have been engaged! Take my tango and intercept! Birdies at three, nine and twenty-six o'clock. Fire! Fire!
Zoot: Ha, ha, ha!
[As the Muppets begin landing lucky shots on Turtle's Surralisks, the bat-like creatures instinctively refocus their attack. The air ballet is fantastic, if not a little fatal.]
Fozzie: Rowlf, do you read me?
Rowlf the Dog: Rover-dodger, Fozzie!
Fozzie: Bring on the Muppet ... Secret Weapon.
Rowlf (jubilantly): Excellent request, sir! That's one of my personal favorites.
[Inside his plane, Rowlf flips open a glass shield, twirls the locker-style combination lock inside, opens a false panel, grabs the key inside and uses it to restart a stalled engine. Finally, he paws at a button marked "Push Only in E-Minor Key". A miniture piano slides out of his dash, and he begins playing. Muppets everywhere take up the cue, and initiate dance flight trajectories.]
Rowlf (singing): We've been spat at, and hated ... Shot at and ra-ted.
Rowlf (singing): Those were our fans... It never aba-ted.
Rowlf (singing): The critics were worse... They can-celled our stuff.
Rowlf (singing): Now we fight back... We've all ... had ... e-nough...!
Muppet Chorus Girls: Load up the bombs, guys, we go on a stri-hike!
Muppet Extras: Yeah, yeah, yeah!
Muppet Chorus Girls: You're licensed to kill. Take out what you li-ike!
Crazy Eddie: Ha, ha, ha!
Muppet Chorus Girls: We've burned up our contracts - We're not coming back...
Muppet Chorus Girls: This is what hap-pens When Mup-pets Attack!
[The Surralisks hover uncertainly, confused at this sudden turn of events.]
Scooter (singing): Our inflappable natures rattled your cages...
Janice (singing): Didn't our toyline appeal to all ages?
Rizzo the Rat (singing): We had no short-age of today's special guests...
Jack Nicholson (smirking): Really, I thought I ... was one ... of ... the ... besssssssst.
Muppet Chorus Girls: Come on, Jim Henson, we'll give 'em a fight!
Penelope Chicken: Cluck, cluck, cluck!
Muppet Chorus Girls: We'll make them as late as Muppets Tonight!
Animal: ANIMAL! ANIMAL! Wah-wah-wah-wah!
Muppet Chorus Girls: When dealing with courage, there's nothing we lack...
Swedish Chef: Y°obetcha!
Muppet Chorus Girls: This is what happens...
Miss Piggy: ...What happens...
Gobo: ...What happens!
Everyone: When Muppets ... Atta...Ah...ah...Ah...ah... Aieeeeeee!
[The music ends in a furious fireball, spurred by the Surralisks. The remaining Muppets scatter, but it's truly over for them. Fortunately for Ravil, his Canuckalisks had forsaken their part in the musical number in favor of retreat. And yet, when given the news, the King of the Canuckalisks does not feel very fortunate.]
Ravil (snarling from his destroyed room in the Charleston): Turtle! You will rue the day you crossed me here! When I find you, I will make you into luggage! DO YOU HEAR ME? Luggage!
Pile of luggage, sounding much like a bellboy: Please... no more.
To be continued in the Great War Finale!