Parallel Time: There's nothin' this cat won't do for money

Friday, September 26, 2008

There's nothin' this cat won't do for money

Jaysus, Mary and Joseph, would ya look at me place. It's a wreck.

POOF. I don't think they're gonna help ya clean up, Paddy. Top of the mornin to ya. ... Whoa! That's a lotta bird crap!

Ah, it's the good for nothin green devil himself. It seems a whole murder of crows came in through the damn hole that madman poked in me roof. Who was that who wrecked me place? ... I noticed you didn't stick around for the show. I barely escaped with me life.

That, chum, was St. Michael the Archangel, certified, card-carrying heavenly badass. Doesn't look like you hung around too long yourself, or we'd be pickin bird poop off of pieces of that chrome dome of yours.

Where did they go -- back to non-Parallel Time I suppose?

Sorry, pal, but the boys downstairs have a strict no-interference policy. ... So you didn't hear this from me. ... I understand they're going to arrange some kinda seance to repair the sixth-dimensional rift.

I don't suppose they'll be invitin' old Ronan, eh?

Doubtful. ... But a seance is not the only way to get to non-Parallel Time, ya know.

Oh?

Very nonchalant. I like that. You're good. You have quite a following downstairs, ya know. ... Listen I know you have a score to settle with your sister on the other side.

I can't believe me own dear Marge would eat me alive.

So, ah ... As I said, you got quite a following and ... ah ... I might be willing to show you the way. For a price.

I'm listening, lad.

Well, I'm a football fan. American football to you, of course. That's my vice. Heck, everybody in Hell is a football fan. And I'm a huge Dallas fan. I mean the Cowboy's are Hell's team. We have virtually all of their deceased players, plus coach Landry ... And truth be told, we could use a good wide receiver.

American football's your vice, is it? That coming from a green devil ....

That spirit that was here earlier ... the really annoying one? The Player? We could use him on our team.

That arrogant bastard?! How could ya even stand to be around him, lad?

Hey, who cares? As long as we win.

Well what am I supposed to do about it? He's a spirit. I can't even lay me hands on him. Plus he's got that goon Michael holdin his hand.

Here's all ya gotta do. Once he gets back to non-Parallel Time, Michael and the angels will be done with him. I take you over to non-Parallel time and you get him to come back -- alone. We'll take care of the rest.

And how do you expect me to do that?

Money. There's nothin this cat won't do for money. ... Deal?

And how do we get to non-Parallel time without the seance and the sixth-dimensional rift and the rest of that malarky?

Simple. We just take the shortcut through Hell. There's an entrance just a few blocks from here. You'll be there in time for Celtic Classic.

There's a gate to Hell ... right here? In Parallel Allentown?

Sure! Haven't ya ever been to Croc Rock?

Aye, lad, I have. I have indeed. ... Deal.

1 comment:

Chris Casey said...: If there's a portal to hell in Allentown, (And God knows, it makes perfect sense there is one)
I was thinking it would be closer to, or perhaps even in the basement of the Americus Hotel. The Hotel Traylor even, don't you think? Just my humble opinion.; October 1, 2008 at 8:22 AM

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While the demon Marge presides over the stick-by-stick destruction of non-Parallel Allentown, things are really nice over here in Parallel Allentown. Parallel Allentown has a monorail, two space ports, a hockey arena that is home to the Jersey Devils, an entire minor league baseball league, the world headquarters of several Fortune 100 corporations (including Tofu Turkeys and the world’s largest horse-processing plant, the Glue Works), dozens of theme and amusement parks, including the Whoo-Hoo Works, a string of glittering riverfront resorts, the world's largest department store (Hess's Dammit), 18 Irish Brew Works and several Tommie Tomorrow's Mexican eateries. The town is also famous for the milk it produces at its state-of-the-art dairy facility, the Moo Works. Allentown is also known for having the realm’s largest concentration of TV chefs per square acre. The city is home to Parallel Time's most prominent blogger, Parallel Atown-Liker, and his team of intrepid diarists. Allentown's first Irish mayor, Barry O'Bama, once walked across Lake Muhlenberg, but lately he’s been up to his knees in goose shit. The city’s previous mayor, whose name may only be spoken on sanctified ground, has been beatified after being carried to heaven by angels during a ground-breaking ceremony. He has been credited with legalizing prostitution in Parallel Time and establishing Allentown's first legal brothel, the Screw Works. Now that Ronan and the Irish Tenor have left the realm, the crime rate here is 0. ... However, not all is well. Incursions from Non-parallel Time have shaken this once-tranquil Camelot. Deceased non-Parallel actor Paul Newman has declared himself Lord of Parallel Time, taking over the Twin Tofu Turkey Towers and converting them to The Pew Works, a church dedicated to worshipping himself. He canceled half-price wings in Parallel Heaven and initiated the Celestial Lockdown Protocols, barring all travel between the realms. His dog, Ponzi, has stolen more than $50 billion from President Madoff and has barely escaped several attempts by the TV chefs to eat him. Though the Celestial Lockdown Protocols have insulated Lord Newman from any attempts by non-Parallel Heaven (which nominally rules Parallel Heaven) to remove him from power, it has also prevented the Crows from carrying out their somewhat vague but nefarious plans. Typically the Crows can fly through space and time, going from realm to realm as easily as they fly from tree to tree. The protocols have prevented the Crows from traveling between realms, prompting Bramwell, the Lord of the Crows, to befriend Mrs. Egram, the proto Marge who has emerged from an alternate timeline created by several clumsy attempts by a band of time travelers from non-Parallel time to kill her. Mrs. Egram had hoped to travel from alternate Parallel Time to non-alternate Parallel Time using a transphasic freight elevator hidden in the underground rest station (The Poo Works) that links Parallel and non-Parallel Time and is guarded, respectively, by Donovan and Old Donovan -- her theory being that all alternate timelines intersect with the one non-alternate timeline in the bathroom beneath center square, which is really more of a circle. Her goal is to confront Marge, who she believes has acted badly by destroying non-Parallel Allentown and has cast shame upon the good name of the Egram family, who are descended from proud caste of vampires and assorted demons and semidemons. Bramwell convinced Mrs. Egram to allow him to accompany her and her companions (part of the group who created her by botching two attempts to kill her in an earlier stage of her life) on a transphasic elevator ride that he had secretly re-routed. Bramwell double-crossed the group, exiting the elevator in the Realm of the Really Big Crows and leaving Mrs. Egram's group, including their pet dinosaur, Scrapple (a gift from Jesus during a stop in the prehistoric past), to be destroyed in a transphasic bubble that was about to burst. Meanwhile, sensing a threat from the Crows as well as the realization of apocalyptic prophesies, Parallel Pope Boneyface has moved Vatican operations to the South Pole, where the intense cold freezes the crows' little bodies before they can do much damage. They fall to the icy ground and are eaten by jackass penguins. As a result of the threat posed by the crows, Jesus has allowed part of a team led by Agent Bauer to bypass the protocols. Using transphasic toilet travel, Bauer was sent to the South Pole to help prepare for any incursions there by the Crows, learning in the process that Newman was secretly sent by Jesus to Parallel Time to keep tabs on the Crows and their ties to elements in Parallel and non-Parallel Hell. Atown Liker and the Player were sent to Parallel Allentown to bring Newman to the South Pole to join with Bauer and Pope Boneyface. However, three of their team members, Rudolph, Gen. Trexler and the angel Bubbles, were prevented from making the trip when they could not answer Old Donovan’s questions. Rudolf and Trexler were condemned to Hell, while Bubbles was condemned to the Macungies. All three were later rescued by extraction teams sent by Jesus in a blog entry that has mysteriously never been seen, even in flash-back form. Mrs. Egram’s group was saved from from oblivion when Scrapple was snatched from their elevator by a transphasic bubble, which set off an alarm that alerted St. Onslo to shut down the system, leaving the elevator to crash-land in the rest station in non-alternate Parallel Time. Tiring of Mrs. Egram’s demands to be sent to non-alternate non-Parallel time, Onslo sent the team via toilet to the only place that could still be accessed by the faulty system – the non-alternate Parallel South Pole. The TV chef Andrew, who was having lunch in one of the stalls, was also transported to the South Pole accidentally. Meanwhile, now in the Realm of the Really Big Crows, Bramwell traveled to the North Pole where he attempted to use a transpolar destabilizer to open a rift that would allow him to travel to the South Pole in Parallel Time (see Shish Kebob Theory). However, he and his No. 1 henchcrow came under fire from Santa Claus after Bramwell had subdued one of Santa’s polar bears. One of Santa’s bullets struck the destabilizer, opening a small rift that pulled the henchcrow into the same transphasic bubble occupied by Scrapple, who had become self-aware with the ability to reason and speak. That bubble then burst, leaving the two in the Parallel South Pole wilderness, where Scrapple promptly ate Bramwell’s second-in-command. Avoiding a drunken Santa’s bullets, Bramwell finally got the destabilizer to function and escaped to the Parallel South Pole. Narrowly surviving an encounter with Scrapple, Bramwell has accessed the Vatican basement through a crevice and seeks to free the Great White Crow, which was imprisoned under the ice after its epic battle with the Irish warrior Cuchulain, many eons ago.

Parallel Time

Friday, September 26, 2008

There's nothin' this cat won't do for money

1 comment:

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