Description: Live From the Black Noah, is the Lightning Spangles Show-Up Hoe-Down Thanks-Giving Special-stravaganza! Most people would have qualms about working with a criminal organization in a greymarket promotional special. Most criminal organizations would have qualms with Lightning Spangles being their commercial face! But most of all, 4 out of 5 Dr Trans advise against any sort of Thanksgiving Specials that take a very broad and literal definition of what an 'Indian' is. Fortunately, 1 out of 5 are willing to help Lightning Spangles RIGHT NOW!
Thanksgiving.
If the 4th of July was America's birthday, then Thanksgiving was the drunken night of its conception. It was when non-Viking Europeans reached New England, which was the most American part of America. Virginia doesn't count. Also neither does South America and Central America. Also not parts of Canada. The point was, that Thanksgiving was the most important American holiday after 4th of July. And Flag Day.
And what better place to honor it than the Black Noah.
For most people, getting on to the Black Noah was a challenge. For other people, leaving the Black Noah was a greater challenge. The former floating fortress of R was long feared as a place where bad people made good people disappear. But for someone like Lightning Spangles? She was not considered a good OR bad person! She was an actress! And she had a very important message for the world. That message was Thanksgiving. The question was, would R be willing to help Lightning Spangles spread the word about the TRUE meaning of Thanksgiving.
The answer was yes.
With certain modifications on the source material, of course.
The topside of the carrier was all set up for the very important special. The planes were all stacked to the side, where a long table was put in place. On the table was a full Thanksgiving feast: A steaming roast turkey, several bowls filled with bread, corn, stuffing, and green beans, and of course, several pie tins filled with pumpkin pie! Behind it was a curtain, painted and colored to be like a New England forest in autumn. Several happy Native Americans were painting on there, smiling happily.
And then, Lightning Spangles leaps out from behind the curtain.
Lightning Spangles was in her full cowgirl regalia, of course. She was never without it! It helped the children at home know she is the real deal! But she was wearing something on top of her blue jeans and rhinestone-studded top. She was wearing aa pilgram costume! Dressed in black and white, with short skirt going up to her knees, and a shapely top, she bears a white bonnet in the place of her cowboy hat. She was the splitting image of the real pilgrims that came to America.
And she was holding an assault rifle.
Clutching the rifle in one hand, the weapon hangs over his shoulder in a sling. Smiling broadly, she waves at the camera, who was recording ALL of this. "Howdy Y'all! It's me! Lightning Spangles! And welcome to the Lightning Spangles Show-Up Hoe-Down Thanks-Giving Special-Stravaganza! I am here on the-" *<REDACTED>* "- In the middle of the Pacific Ocean! And today, I am going to tell you all about Thanksgiving! As you've probably noticed.
"And I'm holding a Enfield L85A1!"
Lightning Spangles holds up the weapon, letting the camera zoom in on the firearm. "Most pilgrims like myself had to defend ourselves and hunt turkeys using what is called a 'Blunderbuss!' But as Blunderbusses no longer exist because they disappeared from history, I had to use the next best thing! The Enfield L85A1 is a British-made bullpup-style assault rifle developed in the 1980s, that happens to be held in surplus in several legitimate dealers across the world! What kind of legitimate dealers? I cannot legally tell you that, but I can wink at you!" Lightning Spangles winks at the camera, nodding knowingly as she holds the rifle up. Stroking the muzzle longingly, she turns to her right, pointing the rifle in the same direction.
"Isn't that right, Squanto?"
ONE WEEK BEFORE THANKSGIVING
A short brown man in a once-white coat, half-starved and on the run in the expansive plains of the American Midwest, eats half of a cheeseburger out of a dumpster like a giant raccoon. He immediately feels an intense but almost familiar shame the likes of which he is certain he has never before felt in his life.
TWO DAYS BEFORE THANKSGIVING
"I'LL DO IT." Tran slams his palms on a desk in California, dirtier and more run-down than the small, cramped office in which he is busy consulting his newly hired agent.
"What?" The small greasy man (played by Danny Devito) responds, taken slightly aback. "I ain't even told you what the gig is yet, just that we need an Indian!"
The doctor stares him dead in the eye, no trace of joy or kindness or basic human empathy showing in the slightest, and whispers.
"I. Don't. Care."
NOW
(THANKSGIVING)
Dr. Richard Tran has no idea where he is or how he got here. He recalls being flush with the thrill of anticipated success, and going out to celebrate with his small advance...
...and his next coherent memory is waking up in front of a small dressing room mirror, already in costume. Costume? It's hard to definitely call it that, because the word 'costume' is not nearly profane enough to describe that atrocity that has happened to Tran in terms of both racial sensitivity and plain design sense. Fringed leather vest. Feathered headdress that stretches down his back to the floor. War paint.
And the worst part is that nobody even bothered taking his regular clothes off first.
But someone is shooing him out onto stage and pointing at the teleprompter and even if he never even bothered learning what he's suppose to do here, Dr. Tran is a /professional/ and he is going to act like one.
With as much dignity as his short frame can muster, the doctor holds up a small, fake-looking plastic bow, and delivers his line with as much feeling and real emotional power as he can muster.
"How."
All it takes is one word to begin regrets.
"This is my good friend Squanto!" Lightning Spangles chirps up brightly, as the dignified Dr. Tran gives his response. "He is a friend to the pilgrims! But as you can probably tell, he doesn't speak very good English!" Lightning Spangles unhooks the gun, and places it on the table. Walking across the set, she throws an arm around Dr. Tran's shoulder, popping her other leg out, balancing it on the heel! "Fortunately, I can speak Indian, so I can help translate what Squanto is saying."
"Allow me to explain!"
"Squanto said 'Hello' to all you fans of being properly educated about American History! Squanto was explaining how very happy he is to see you all, and how he was excited that we brought such high-quality British firearms to your attention!" Lightning Spangles grins even harder, releasing her best friend Dr. Tran. "He also explained that he is my best friend, and he would be more than happy to help confirm the rich and indepth history about our founding grandfathers, and the role that the pilgrims had in shaping Indian society! Yes, thanks to the pilgrims, Americans were able to unite in solidarity with the Indians, to help form the US of A!" Lightning Spangles steps a few steps away from Dr. Tran, putting up her fists in a guard. "And what better way to show solidarity with our pilgrim ancestors, than for Squanto and I fight!"
"Just like how the pilgrims did!"
Dr. Tran has made a terrible mistake.
Instinctively, he knows. He can /smell/ the danger in the air, all around him, a miasma of regret and despair that tells him he is trapped here, and nothing he does can free him from this brightly lit cage called the stage.
Every so softly, as Lightning Spangles drones on about how Jesus is the reason for the season or whatever, Tran whispers to himself, too soft for even the microphone to pick up.
"So this...is /show business/."
The doctor refocuses on the camera, a new fire burning in his eyes, in his very /soul/. He dramatically leans away from the insane pilgrim cowgirl after she hops away from him, only briefly diverting his attention to the teleprompter once more. His line is clear. He's ready to /rock this/ like only Dr. Tran, International Man of Mystery can.
"Who." He asserts, powerfully.
"I mean, how. Shit. Are we live?"
Having gone from zero to complete panic in five seconds, Tran does the only thing he can and tries to choke Ms. Spangles out with the child-friendly choke-resistant bowstring, thereby demonstrating /authentic/ Native American combat techniques.
COMBATSYS: Tran has started a fight here.
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Tran 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Jezebel has joined the fight here.
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Tran 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Jezebel
COMBATSYS: Jezebel blocks Tran's Quick Throw.
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Tran 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Jezebel
This wasn't show business.
This was AMERICA.
As Lightning Spangles invites Squanto to prove the true meaning of Thanksgiving, he botches his line. But does a professional like Lightning Spangles gets derailed? Hell no! She just nods and smiles, waving to the audience at home! "Who Ayemean Howsit, Arrweelive?" She repeats, grinning vapidly as she begins to bounce on her heels. "That's the spirit! Okay! We need to help the kids at home learn about the important martial abilities of Indians! Indians were well renowned as being fierce and brave fighters! That is why Lightning Spangles good friends, the Washington Redskins, bear their noble and brave title!" As if to prove her point, the mascot of the Washington Redskins comes running out from behind the curtain, carrying an armful of the Enfield assault rifles. Running around, behind her, she glances towards the mascot. "And the Cleveland Indians! I can't forget about them-"
However she was now being strangled.
"GRK!" She gags, as she struggles with her hands to resist the bow. Fighting the advances of Dr. Tran, the American grabs the string with her free hands, fighting against the attack. "Wow Squanto! You really are using that bow! But it just isn't tough enough to mes with a real pilgrim. What you need, my Indian friend, is..."
"A real bow!"
A compound bow is suddenly tossed at Lightning Spangles feet. The weapon is covered with attachments, such as a scope, several bayonants, a grenade launching underbelly, and a few small-yield surface-to-air missiles. Gripping the string with one hand, Jezebel lifts up the weapon. "Wow! Check out this R-Class Compound Bow, with all the trimmings! And here is Lightning Spangles first important fact about America: Did you know that Indians did not actually have bows? Bows were actually invented by Ancient Sumerians, which of course was in Europe. It does not make sense for bows to be invented by the Indians, then! Those weren't the only things actually invented by Europeans! For example, Europeans also invented headdresses, and scalping! Isn't that amazing-" She suddenly gives a fierce stomp towards Tran's foot, attempting to stun him long enough to break from the grapple.
"-Squanto?"
COMBATSYS: Jezebel successfully hits Tran with Light Kick.
? Strange Hit! ?
CSYS: This exciting moment brought to you by Washington Redskins!!
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Tran 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Jezebel
For a moment, Dr. Tran is in awe. Is this the resolve of a seasoned veteran of live TV? An airwave warrior without peer? He is unable to silence her, to interrupt at all her almost hypnotic corporate ramble. It is a sight to behold.
As is the bow that is dropped to the floor, gleaming and so very technologic-y. In fact it makes him feel a little insecure about the one he's still holding on to. Surely there's a better way than /this/.
And then Spangles stomps the toe of his shoe, only to discover that for some reason his authentic period costume includes rough brown steel-toed workboots. Like they made out of deerskin hundreds of years ago?
"How...," Tran responds loudly, pausing just slightly longer than neccesary to emphasize the bit, "Informative."
He waits a beat, then dives for the bow on Jezebel's finger. In practice it is really more of a crazed tackle-style maneuver.
COMBATSYS: Tran successfully hits Jezebel with Dr. Tran's Summer Splash.
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Tran 0/-------/----===|=====--\-------\0 Jezebel
Lightning Spangles always had to make her pitch.
Managing to stomp on a steel-toed workboot, she barely lands a chip on her Native American companion. "Thank you Squanto!" She responds brightly and briskly, with the utmost sincerity. "Some people don't like to talk about the facts. But the facts speak for themselves!" She was ready to add more, but there was a slight problem. Tran was tackling her down. She tries to push him around her, to send him tumbling past. But she is too slow, too into her sales pitch. She is hit with full force by the wild tackle.
And she is pinned down underneath Squanto.
"Squanto! Please!" Lightning Spangles pleads, laughing merrily as she struggles underneath Tran. "Not in front of the children! They don't need to know about the countless romances that the redskin man had for the delicate Pilgrim maidens like myself!" As if to make a point, the Redskins mascot runs behind the pair, stopping to pump his fists in encouragement. Lightning Spangles doesn't stop, as she turns to her side, smile painted across her face. "But if you need to learn more about the relationship between Indians and Pilgrim Maidens, we have just what you need in the next valuable chapter of understanding the value of our Native Americans!"
A book is suddenly chucked next to her, off camera.
Catching it deftly, she holds it aside, showing off the cover to the camera. "Learn about the journey of Bella Swan through the eyes of her suitor, Jacob Black, in an informative and entertaining journey through a woman's heart. Experience a rich sense of Indian culture that could only be explained through the written prose of Stephenie Meyer! Pre-order for a loved one this holiday season," She concludes, as she attempts to give Tran a swift kick between the legs, to get him off her.
"Bible Black: The Story of Jacob Black!"
COMBATSYS: Tran endures Jezebel's Medium Kick!
CSYS: This exciting moment brought to you by Bible Black: The Story of Jacob Black!!
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Tran 0/-------/--=====|======-\-------\0 Jezebel
Not one to shy away from his role, no matter how ethically questionable it may or may not be you can't prove anything, Dr. Tran just runs with it. This is partly because he really wants that bow, partly because he can only really half see the teleprompter from down here, and partly because his every instinct is screaming at him that his testicles are in danger, although he's not /exactly/ sure how. But the only way past it is to just force his way out. Of the situation.
"Squanto's totem pole holds spirit of eagle, spirit of...maize?" Tran squints to try to make out the rest of his line, deciding that in the end it's probably not important and he should just do whatever and it will probably work out ok. "Spirit of papaya." That is probably an authentic native word, he's pretty sure he read it in a book somewhere.
It's just as Ms. Spangles' pitch is winding up that Tran begins to push himself up off her, at the exact moment the mysterious testicular danger crystalizes into a real and present threat. He's stuck - vulnerable, with no way to avoid this terrible deathblow. But when you've been hit in the festive holiday mixed nuts as many times as Dr. Tran has, /who cares/.
If anything, the doctor spreads his legs wider, letting the below the belt shot hit cleanly so that it propels him forward, head-first toward Jezebel's head, looking to impact and then flip away, (hopefully) rolling cleanly off of her after delivering the attack. WITH the bow--wait, book in hand? Where he pauses for a long moment.
"Squanto's totem pole just lost eagle spirit." He holds it up to the camera. "But gained wolf spirit. And you can too." He pauses a beat more.
"How."
COMBATSYS: Jezebel blocks Tran's Strong Punch.
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Tran 0/-------/-======|=======\-------\0 Jezebel
What happened to the bow?
The bow was in fact still in Lightning Spangles hand. Her other hand, of course. As she struggles underneath Tran, her kick seems to rocket him up. Bringing her other hand forward, she catching the head in the crook of the bow, slowing it down a notch. There is a whistling sound as one of the missiles suddenly fires off, hitting the mascot straight in the chest. Fortunately, it does not arm. Unfortunately, it sends the mascot right off the edge of the carrier, with a loud splash. Lightning Spangle tosses aside the bow, standing up as she rubs her chin. "That's right Squanto! And now is a good time to tell the people at home that our sponsor doesn't just deal with high-quality firearms."
"They also deal in medical supplies too!"
Lightning Spangles looks solemn again, putting a hand on Tran's shoulder. "Squanto, you are not the only Indian who suffers from totem troubles. Sometimes the spirit is willing, but the totem is weak. It is perfectly naturally for that to happen! Especially when you find your partner unattractive and insufficient, or when you constantly fail in even the most basic and primal of biological functions!"
"That is why we have the 'Dead End Screamers!"
Lightning Spangles holds up a brightly labeled rx bottle, so the camera can zoom in on it. "Dead End Screamers! When your totem isn't quite up to par, just pop a few of these, and you'll be stomping and snorting wild! You'll be breaking necks by the time you are done! Dead End Screamers are made from all-natural products, and is approved by homeopathic experts, so that means it is good and healthy for you too! And even better..." Lightning Spangles pops the bottle open, and dumps a few in her mouth.
"It work for women as well as meeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-"
Lightning Spangles suddenly blushes. Her entire body turns bright red. Wriggling and writhing a bit, she starts to giggle. Casually, she casts a glance towards Dr. Tran, tittering like a school girl. "Wow, Squanto, I heard you were a doctor... Why don't you and I... I and you..."
"Start the Thanksgiving feast!"
There, Lightning Spangles will attempt to grab Dr. Tran with both hands. Should she get a grip, she will whip him around, giving him an old heave ho right towards the long table. And if he makes it there? She will leap after him, kicking him on the landing...
And pinning HIM to the table this time.
COMBATSYS: Jezebel successfully hits Tran with Hang 'Em High.
CSYS: This exciting moment brought to you by Homeopathic Medicine!!
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Tran 1/-----==/=======|=======\=------\1 Jezebel
Nobody cares about mascots. It's sad, but true. Tran doesn't even notice the hapless, possibly-slightly-less-inauthentic-than-even-him Redskin go overboard. He assumes the splash is a rambunctious crab or something, those live in the ocean, right?
He's far more attentive to Lightning Spangles and her latest pitch, and more important than her the ever-helpful teleprompter. "That is correct, Spangles with Lightning, even Squanto's down-to-earth folksy herb-lore cannot compare to--wait, Dead End Screamers?" Suddenly, Tran's attention is drawn to the pill bottle instead of anything else. "Hey, don't take those, the surgeon general said these were like nuclear--"
He never gets to finish because Jezebel is /excited/, and clearly will not take no for an answer.
"No, no, no, wait, no!" The doctor is helpless in her crazed hands, scattering turkey and gravy and mashed potatos and all manner of delicious, holiday-appropriate sides to the side. He ceases protesting when she kicks him in the stomach. Gasping for air, he weakly repeats one word over and over as he tries to get his breath back.
"How...how...how...how..."
Finally, he recovers enough to counter-attack, simply reaching for Lightning Spangles and trying to flip her over him into a decorative maize display.
"How are you still alive?!"
COMBATSYS: Jezebel endures Tran's Dr. Tran Is Not Enough EX.
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Tran 1/----===/=======|=======\====---\1 Jezebel
Lightning Spangles didn't know why, but she felt so young again.
"Enough, Squanto!" She orders powerfully, as she rides down on the doctor, knocking over turkey and bowls as they reached the table. Pinning Tran down, she licks her chops as she has them. "These pills are filling me with an inner heat. And you are the only release! So! Squanto! Let me be your Bella!" As she is flipped over, she doesn't even slow down. Immediately, she begins to scramble after Tran, crawling on all fours, as she readies to pounce on him...
And a whistle is blown.
"Stop, Lightning Spangles!"
And upon the table, a small armadillo hops up.
The armadillo was wearing a cowboy hat, and a tiny scarf around his neck. Holding a little fiddle made just for his size, the armadillo plays a jaunty little jig, as he squaredances in place. Lightning Spangles, face red, looks dead on at the armadillo. And grinning bright, she finally responds. "Well, tie me up and call me David Carradine! It's the Hoedown Dillo!' She tilts her bonnet at the Hoedown Dillo. "What brings you here, pardner?" The Hoedown Dillo pulls out a whistle, and gives a little toot, before answering.
"I came here because you were about to rape someone!"
Lightning Spangles looked shocked. "Rape someone? But as a woman, I can't be held accountable for rape!" The Hoedown Dillo shakes his head. "That's not true Lightning Spangles! Rape can come from all kinds of people, especially women. The fact that you were pinning down Squanto there, and not asking for his consent, you were setting up the perfect storm for raping him!" The fiddlin' dillo explains. Lightning Spangles leans back, face still flush. "But Hoedown Dillo, he didn't say no! Shouldn't the fact he didn't say no count as consent?" The Hoedown Dillo shakes his head. "No way, Lightning Spangles! You must always get positive consent, and always the negative when he or she doesn't give positive affirmation! This not only protects your victim, but also yourself from any legal resource!" Lightning Spangles nods her head. "Wow, Hoedown Dillo, you really saved my bacon there! What should I do now that I have him in my clutches though? I am just full of energy, and ready to burst!" The Hoedown Dillo winks.
"Why not use that new move I showed you last night?"
Lightning Spangles smiles brightly, as her entire body suddenly burns with red chi. Then white chi. And finally, blue chi. Flooding with the red, white, and blue, she suddenly begins to spin. The Hoedown Dillo fiddles even harder, building her into a frenzy. And there, she rockets through the air, attempting to sweep Tran right up with her as she fires through the air...
And straight into the curtains behind them.
COMBATSYS: Tran blocks Jezebel's Pale Rider.
CSYS: This exciting moment brought to you by David Carradine!!
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Tran 1/--=====/=======|====---\-------\0 Jezebel
Dr. Tran, as both a doctor and an international secret agent with nothing to lose, is no stranger to when things get hot and heavy with the ladies. So when Lightning Spangles comes at him like an animal, he's well versed in the proper defensive safety measures.
And that's about when he curls up into a ball and starts half-whispering, half-sobbing to himself, "Don't cry on TV, don't cry on TV, don't cry on TV..." The only part of the situation that seems at all abnormal is when, in the course of her conversation with an imaginary talking animal, it seems to tell her /not/ to ravage his tiny, helpless brown body.
To be honest, Tran's not really sure which way is worse.
And then she stops talking, which is definitely a bad sign. However, unable to resist his own curiousity in spite of the very real and present danger to his well-being, he slowly uncurls his head and sneaks a peek.
Lightning Spangles is glowing. He thinks he sees something small and maybe alive behind her, but it's hard to tell amidst the strewn debris that is quickly accumulating on the table.
Tran tucks his head back in and hopes this doesn't hurt too bad.
In midair moments later, still curled up tight, he is glad for a moment that it does not. Then they tumble into the curtains and even basic concepts like 'up' are summarily obliterated.
The curtains tumble down in a big mess, revealing an assortment of holiday props, most of which are relevant to this one. Tran comes to his feet, waving his arms around and moaning like a red velvet ghost. When he comes up, he's got a novelty Statue of Liberty tiara on top of his headdress, which is somewhat beat up and also backwards now. His eyes are just barely visible through the gaps in the feathers.
"King Squanto respect his own body, is no cheap trick!" He pauses, trying in vain to even find the teleprompter at this point. No choice though, the show must go on! Where /is/ Lightning Spangles at this point, anyway? Is she still in the curtains? There's several likely looking lumps, and briefly he considers trying to help her out. But if something happened to her...
Then it would be /Dr. Tran's/ Show-Up Hoe-Down Thanks-Giving Special-Stravaganza.
Rather than leave it to fate, Tran screams at the top of his lungs, "SQUANTO PUNCH!"
And then, fists leaking traces of steamy power, he starts playing whack-a-mole.
COMBATSYS: Tran successfully hits Jezebel with Dr. Tran's Super Murder Mystery 64.
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Tran 0/-------/---====|=======\===----\1 Jezebel
The Hoedown Dillo is not imaginary!
It is movie magic!
Sure the Dillo is suddenly gone after she does her attack. But the music was playing! And besides, the conversation can be done in post. What matters is that Lightning Spangles believes in the Hoedown Dillo. And if she believes in the Hoedown Dillo, then everyone will.
Meanwhile, Lightning Spangles lands in all of America.
She is just covered with all the disposable props, as she soars into the backdrop. Collapsing into the midsts of turkeyland pilgrim funtimes, she is wrapped up in the trappings of other important holidays. Struggling under the heaps of curtains, she suddenly finds herself be punched, again and again, under the covers. "Hey! Hey! You are hitting me!" She points out, as if, just in case, Tran noticed.
And finally, she bursts out of the curtains.
No longer she was wearing the pilgrim outfit. Instead, the 31-year old woman was in her full Lightning Spangles regalia, with her red vest, blue jeans, and sparkling rhinestones, shiny stars, and lightning bolts all over. She was still VERY flush in the face. But most importantly, her cowboy hat was missing. In its place, was a tasteful white yarmulke. "Lets not forget about the most important pilgrims," Lightning Spangles improvises, as she pulls herself from the debris.
"The Jewish Ones!"
"And what better way than to celebrate Rosh Chodesh Kislev, the start of the new month, than several high-quality Jewish firearms!" Reaching around, she pulls out a pair of MAC-10s. "For example, the Uzi is considered to be the choice pick for semi-automatic weapons! Any 'cool dude' wishing to 'gun up' a bunch of 'faygalas' would do no better than investing in high-quality second-hand Israeli arms!"
"And that is where you come in, Squanto!"
Holding the guns high in the air, she nods at her partner. "After all, you DO represent the Indians! And everyone knows that the Indians and Jews don't get along. That is why there are no jews in Pilgrim history! They were relocated and attacked, just like the Palestinians did in Israel!" She nods firmly. "And that is why I need to work hard in protecting America's strong Yiddish tradition! Especially from enemies from the homefront! So what say you, Squanto? Do you want to be for what's right? Or do you want to be. . . " And there, holding them to the air, she pulls both triggers, firing both in full auto amongst the debris.
"FOR MURICA!"
COMBATSYS: Jezebel issues a challenge!!
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Tran 0/-------/---====|=======\===----\1 Jezebel
COMBATSYS: Jezebel burns with the AMERICAN SPIRIT!
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Tran 0/-------/---====|=======\=======\1 Jezebel
It takes a couple of mystery lumps to get to where he's going, but once one of them starts telling him that he is hitting it, Dr. Tran is pretty sure he's on the right track. He even gives it an extra punch or two, just to be really sure.
Mystery solved. In a heartwarming twist, violence was the answer all along.
But then a NEW CHALLENGER APP-oh, wait, no. It takes the doctor just a little longer than you'd expect to realize that Jezebel just put on a hat or something. Or maybe it's her twin sister? No, no, it's probably still her. Tran has a brief moment of clarity, wherein he realizes that it has to be impossible for more than one Lightning Spangles to exist in any given instance of reality.
This is only reinforced by the bizarre, factually questionable monologue that she delivers, ostensibly to him but in reality to all of their absolutely fantastic, woefully underequipped viewers at home. Luckily, Dr. Tran doesn't /need/ facts. There's only one thing he needs to make a decision, nestled deep within the labyrinthian recesses of his heart.
"How..." There's that vital pause for effect, before Tran continues, "Can you even ask that?" He takes a step back, leaping up onto the table once more, coat waving dramatically in back, headdress waving dramatically in front. Automatic gunfire provides his incredibly patriotic backdrop. And he gives his answer.
"Ame-he-he-ri-caaaa!" IN SONG. "AME-HE-HE-RI-CAAAAAAAA!" Luckily, it's difficult to tell he's off-key over the sound of two uzis shooting bullets randomly into the air. "AMERICA!" Then he backflips.
Soaring through the air toward Lightning Spangles, he almost seems to float for a moment at the apex of his jump. He screams out, "<CENSORED> YEAH!", now that /someone/ behind the scenes has realized what a beautiful idea a five-second recording delay is. He subsequently drops like a rock, coming down with a brutal axe kick right up in Jezebel's business, storm of bullets be /damned/.
COMBATSYS: Jezebel blocks Tran's Dr. Tran Goes For Broke.
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Tran 1/-----==/=======|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 Jezebel
Oy Vey!
As the hail of bullets are unleashed to the air, in a patriotic display for MURICA, Tran comes roaring in to Lightning Spangles. For AMERICA. As he curses FOR AMERICA, Lightning Spangles pulls her finger off the triggers. Crossing the MAC-10s, she catches the axe kick between them. The fragile sumachine guns shatter to pieces very easily, smashing through and cutting the actress-fighter's arms. "Yowies!" She exclaims, face beginning to grow less and less flush. The Yarmaluke is knocked clean off her head, as she stumbles. "Careful Squanto! These colors don't run, but I don't want to be beaten red, white, and blue!" Shaking her arms, she staggers back, tripping over a statue of a Valentines Day Fertility Goddess...
And breaking into a tumble.
Bursting from the tumble, she leaps high into the air. "America really is the greatest, and the greatest gift Europe could give to the Indians!" She declares, landing on one foot, the other drawn up. Charging up with an inner light, the American builds in power, growing alight with the same red, white, and blue energy as before. "Allow me to show you one of Americas greatest inventions, and a staple for MY Thanksgiving celebration!" She basically screams, building to wild cheer as she swings her foot around, unleashing a kick as she takes to the sky. A small, billowing ball of red energy shoots out, aiming straight for Tran. Whether or not it hits, does not matter, for the same thing will happen whether it hits the ground near him, or actually hits him square on.
Nothing.
The ball will be absorbed into the surface. whether that surface is Tran or the deck of the carrier. Another ball is hurled out, this one white, and a third and final one is kicked out, this one is blue. Lightning SPangles will land on the ground, and turn her back to Dr. Tran. A pair of sunglasses will be tossed in the air by a crew member off camera. "It looks like First Nation." She begins, as the sunglasses lands on her face. Behind her, around Tran or ON Tran, erupts in an explosion of Red, White, and Blue fireworks, all in the shape of the American Turkey. Lightning Spangles walks away from the blast, as she adjusts the sunglasses on her face.
"... Was the Worst Nation."
COMBATSYS: Tran fails to interrupt Unforgiven EX from Jezebel with Dr. Tran Takes Off His Top.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////// ]
Tran 1/--=====/=======|>>>>>>>\-------\1 Jezebel
As he comes down from his attack, Dr. Tran has a thought.
"Wait, was that the right answer?"
He furrows his brow as broken shards of uzi fall around him like a gentle rain, suddenly wishing that he'd remembered to seek the teleprompter's divine guidance while he still had a chance. But no! It is too late now, for Lightning Spangles is on the move, and wheresoever Lightning Spangles goes, Squanto must follow.
However, so focused is he on his opponent-slash-co-host that he neglects to watch his footing. Thus, when a red energy ball launches itself into his torso almost before he can think, the only real harm that comes to him is that he trips. ...into a cartoonishly large, black prop cannon. For a prop cannon it really has an authentic gun-powder scent, however.
Roughly upended, legs kicking in the air, the doctor is an easy target for the next two balls. He appears to be saying something, but it's muffled and to be frank who cares, there are way more interesting things happening. Like the explosion.
Though the cannon itself is immediately obscured by a shower of red, white and blue sparks, the source (Dr. Tran, now wearing nothing but pants, boots, and an even coat of dark cannongrime) shoots straight up into the air like the world's sexiest ever ICBM. He goes further and further, showing no signs of stopping, until he once again explodes with no warning.
In the sky, the red, white and blue shapes of a wolf with an eagle's head appears, sparkling with a beauty unrivaled on the earth.
Ten seconds later, Dr. Tran's limp and red, white and blue smoking body crashes through the roof of the stage onto what is frankly a needlessly large pile of christmas stockings, many of which go flying in pretty much every direction.
There's another five seconds of silence from the pile, and then Tran staggers out, looking like someone who just got shot out of a cannon.
"..........."
"...How."
YEAAAAAAAH.
Lightning Spangles crosses her arms, as the blastwave comes high above. She waits a moment. Finally, she turns around, lowering the sunglasses. "I... is he okay? Did I break another co-host? Please tell me I Just didn't break my Squanto-" She is interrupted as her cohort comes collapsing down through the stage's roof. Lightning Spangles cheers, hurling away the sunglasses, as the stockings spread around. "Great point, Squanto!" She exclaims, thrusting a fist in the air. "That is the best part of Thanksgiving!"
"CHRISTMAS!!!"
And Lightning Spangles pulls off her clothes.
Ripping off her red vest and blue jeans, she reveals what she was wearing underneath. The girl is garbed in a santa costume, a red corset that stretches to a short red miniskirt, with both being lined with white fur. Lightning Spangles' long legs are clad in tasteful fishnet stockings. Smiling broadly, Lightning Spangles strikes a pose, putting a hand on her hips as she spreads her fingers before her eye. "Ho ho ho!" She calls out. "Merry Christmas, everyone! I hope everyone takes advantage of the Black Friday deals today! And just remember! Even certain grey market organizations dealing in firearms have super sales! Give someone a Christmas gift they can count on!"
"Give them a RPG-7!"
Pointing at Tran, she gives a little hop, bringing both legs behind her thighs briefly. "Okay, Squanto! Your time is up! We have no more need for your services, unless you can make yourself Christmas themed! After all..." She pulls out a small red ball, with a rope tied through it in a loop, from her top. "... Santa always needs her reindeer!" Gripping the ball, tight, she suddenly rushes towards the staggered Tran. "This is your chance, Squanto, to prove who you are for Christmas!" She exclaims, hurling out a blazing straight kick... followed by a roundhouse kick. ANother step, another whipping roundhouse kick. "Are you going to be a Rudolph..." She asks, as she slams a fourth leg out, into a finishing heel drop.
"Or an Adolf?"
COMBATSYS: Tran endures Jezebel's Quick and the Dead.
[ \\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Tran 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|====---\-------\0 Jezebel
Dr. Tran doesn't bat an eye when Lightning 'Sexy Santa' Spangles makes her big change, revealing the /true/ reason for the season: a different season.
"That right, Spangles with Lightning!" Tran replies, staying in character by randomly dropping words from his sentences and continuing to refer to himself in the third person. "These prices get no lower, over entire year! Squanto can hardly believe bargain on ultimate home self-defense rocket launcher!"
But he doesn't have /time/ to be stunned by these rock-bottom deals, Dr. Tran still has to deal with Jezebel, who is simultaneously giving him an aggressive sale, a punishing series of kicks, and, worst of all, the proverbial pink slip! How can a simple Notive American deal with this triple threat?
"Squanto no want be second fiddle reindeer." The kick hits cleanly, but Tran refuses to move. He takes another, and another, and then gets the full force of Lightning Santa's blood-red heel drop. His knees buckle, crumbling under the weight of the corporate elf-abusing overlady. The situation is dire. "But...Squanto no want be nazi scum, enemy of Christmas...so..."
Tran falls to his knees, limply. And he feels something fuzzy by his hand.
"Squanto...no...BROWN SANTA'S COMING TO TOWN, and I know who's been nice and who's been NAUGHTY!" With one quick motion he slaps a big white flully novelty beard onto his chin, and then aggressively stands up at Jezebel, looking to drive the top of his skull directly into her chin.
"HOW HOW HOW! MERRY CHRISTMAS!"
COMBATSYS: Tran issues a challenge!!
[ \\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Tran 1/-----<</<<<<<<<|======-\-------\0 Jezebel
COMBATSYS: Tran successfully hits Jezebel with Strong Punch.
[ \\\\\\\ < > //////// ]
Tran 1/----<<</<<<<<<<|=======\=------\1 Jezebel
"WHAT?!"
As Lightning Spangles hurls out the last kick, she suddenly finds herself looking down at Tran. As Tran rockets straight up to her chin, she is OVERWHELMED with how AWFUL her Squanto was being. He was going wildly off script! Stumbling back, she grabs her face, a fat bruise spreading over it. Finally, she falls over backwards, her legs flailing in the air. Sitting back up, she looks over at Tran, adjusting her jaw. And finally, she explodes straight up, hands tightened into fists at her side.
"A =BROWN= SANTA!?"
"There is NOTHING more UNAMERICAN than a BROWN SANTA!" She exclaims, thrusting a finger at Tran. Her posture erect, her hand out, she stamps her boot. "America's Santa fulfills certain qualifications, and meet NONE of them! You are fit to be Squanto, and nothing more! You don't even have a Coca-Cola! You can't be Santa without Coca-Cola! What would you drink instead? =PEPSI!?=" Lightning Spangles looks absolutely disgusted for a moment, before the bright, perky smile returns.
"No, the soda of choice on this battleship is RC Cola!"
Holding up a can of RC Cola, she places it firmly on her palm, keeping it balanced on the top with her other palm. Her swollen face, long since died down from the flushness, was wrapped up in a grin. "RC Cola! Or as we like to call it here; R-Cola! It is the drink of choice for any tough guys, mercenaries, and homegrown militias seeking to quench their thirst! Don't be a Ralf! Don't be a Clark! Enjoy high-quality RC Cola!" She takes a sip.
"Refreshing!"
Tossing the soda can aside, she rockets forward, blazing straight back towards Tran at breakneck speeds. This time, she was unleashing a rage-filled onslaught of high kicks straight for Brown Santa. "Just as refreshing as it will be to kick you right back into your place, Brown Santa!" She cries out, unloading heel kick after heel kick, the frenzy of kicks nearly becoming a blur. "Not just for myself! Not just for this battleship! No! For the most important thing in the world!"
"For America!"
COMBATSYS: Jezebel successfully hits Tran with True Grit.
-* WILD HIT! *-
[ < > /////// ]
Tran 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|===----\-------\0 Jezebel
For a brief and glorious time, Dr. Tran, AKA The Worst Santa Claus, is on top of the world. Sure, he may be small, brown, and skinny, but he has everything a man needs in life to be happy. Let's look at the list: a full and magnificent beard, his own infomercial, and some kind of battleship or something?
To be honest, he's still not really sure where he is, but that's the sort of thing he likes to leave to the little people. The underlings. So maybe he should make his old, pitiable co-host into an elf? She looks like she'd be good at making wooden horses, that's a cowboy thing, right?
Mind reaching far into the future, lost in his own visions of greatness, Tran barely notices her at first as she shills the latest in thirst quenching technology, only registering a few words when she's almost finished. He tries to draw a coherent thought out of the word jumble.
"Homegrown R-Cola...makes you ralph? Who would ever buy that?!" There is little time for confusion, however, because a real American girl-santa is really mad, and she's not going to take Tran's ethnic crap any more. Kick after kick slams into him, driving him backward, ever backward, until he hits the back wall of the stage. The kicks keep coming, with Tran offering less and less resistance, until the final blow strikes home with a resounding impact. He is plastered against the wall for a moment, beaten and battered, but somehow still standing.
Until a gigantic map of America unfurls from the rafters, dislodged by that last tremendous strike, and strikes him squarely on the head with the large steel tube that is presently being used to weigh it down.
Dr. Tran goes down like a sack of bricks. And yet still he reaches forward, beard askew, valiantly croaking out one last line before finally succumbing to his accumulated injuries.
"And that's...the reason...for...the seasaaaaaugh."
COMBATSYS: Tran takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\ <
Jezebel 0/-------/----===|
COMBATSYS: Tran can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\ <
Jezebel 0/-------/----===|
The assault, with the special, comes to a close.
Kick after kick comes into the worst Santa Claus ever, with Lightning Spangles being fueled by the purest hatred towards the least American Santa Claus. Tran's insult to America is stomped down, establishing the truest, purest vision of America.
Lightning Spangle's America.
Turning around, Lightning Spangles stands astride, legs akimbo, hands on her hips. As the American Flag unfurls (with proper naming conventions, of course), it doesn't matter that the map falls down and finishes off Tran. But Lightning Spangles thrusts out a thumbs up, straight at the camera. ANd there, she... agrees with Tran. "That's right Squanto!"
"It is the season for the sausage!"
"And where else can you get high-quality sausages this holiday season, than at GHOM!" She steps to the remains of the table, and pulls off the lid to a silver platter. A heap of steam pours off the plate, as several thick, juicy bratwursts sit on top of a pile of saurkraut. Taking a heavy wiff, Santa Spangles licks her red lips as she looks down at the heap of sausages "Mmmmm'mmm! Look at that juicy sausage! I can't wait to dig into those Franks! This and more can be found at GHOM! The German House of Meat! But what is the German House of Meat, you ask? Well, for the sake of America, let me explain." Lightning SPangles moves in front of the table, as a jaunty polka begins to play.
And she begins to bob up and down, singing along to the polka.
"Go to GHOM, Go to GHOM,
Go to GHOM, Go to GHOM,
Go to GHOM, Go to GHOM,
Das German Hause of Meat!
Beef and Pork, Beef and Pork,
Beef and Pork, Beef and Pork,
Beef and Pork, Beef and Pork,
At Das German Hause of Meat!
Fish and Cheeken, Fish and Cheeken,
Fish and Cheeken, Fish and Cheeken,
Fish and Cheeken, Fish and Cheeken,
At Das German Hause of Meat!
Veal And Caribou, Veal And Caribou,
Veal And Caribou, Veal And Caribou,
Veal And Caribou, Veal And Caribou,
AT! DAS! GERMAN! HAUSE OF MEAT!
SOOOOOOOOOOOO
Come to GHOM, Come to GHOM!
Come to GHOM, Come to GHOM!
Come to GHOM, Come to GHOM,
DAS GERMAN HAUSE OF MEAT!"
Lightning SPangles leans in real close to the camera, giving it a coy wink, before everything fades to black.
"Mention this advertisement, and get a free Shnitzel with your next value meal!"
"Happy Thanksgiving, Y'all!"
COMBATSYS: Jezebel gives y'all a free turn!
[ \\\\\\\ <
Jezebel 0/-------/----===|
Log created on 22:41:01 11/27/2014 by Jezebel, and last modified on 01:12:45 12/01/2014.