One time up New York Way

Well it turns out that all the disco tracks I added to my music folder (4 of them) aren't in the right format to be put on my ipod. Which sucks, because I wanted to listen to everybody dance while strutting my stuff.

Anyway, this will be the last one for a while on account of me going on holiday for three weeks tomorrow. HOWEVER, I intend to keep on writing so when I get back there will be a big fuck-off update. August will be the most updated! I'm going to beat April. It thinks it's so big with eleven updates. We'll show it, August. We'll show what a motherfucker August can be.

Canal You Dig It?

A canal boat powers along a canal at 0.5, 0.6 metres per second. Really steaming along, although probably using a diesel engine. Suddenly the boat rocks. Neville comes uptop.

Neville: What's going on?

Scott: I think some Joker's going too fast. And they're coming towards us!

Quickly, Neville jumps on the steering stick and hits it hard to starboard. The canal boat is safe up against the bank. A speed boat drives past at astonishing speed. Arthur and the Colonel are aboard.

Colonel: We've got him now, Arthur.

Arthur: Too right, Colonel.

Their speed boat is catching up on another, black, speedboat. Suddenly the black speedboat releases oil out of a hatch on its stern.

Arthur: Put on the brakes, Colonel!

Colonel: No need, Arthur. For you see, water and oil DON'T MIX.

Aboard the black speedboat.

Arthur: Look at all these drugs, Colonel.

Colonel: It's more drugs than I've ever seen.

Karif: Me and my lackeys were going to sell them. For money.

Colonel: [Squatting down in front of the tied up Karif] Dirty money, Karif.

Karif: No dirtier than you!

Colonel: Or you!

Colonel pushes Karif in the canal.

Arthur: Will he be able to swim with those ropes on?

Colonel: Shiiiiiit.

Later in the police chief's office.

Chief Roberts: The public are gonna tear you up, Colonel.

Colonel: Will they, Colonel? What if they found out that it was actually a young, inexperienced officer who pushes that man in the canal?

Arthur: But who?

Colonel pushes Arthur into the canal.

Arthur: Nooooooooooo [bubble]

Chief Roberts: You're a bad egg, Colonel.

Colonel: I'm a complex character.

Chief Roberts: I don't know whether I want to kiss you or push you in the canal.

Colonel: Let me make that choice for you.

Colonel pushes Chief Roberts into the canal.

Chief Roberts: Colonel, you ass! I was five seconds 'til retirement.

Colonel: Should have thought of that before you started harshing my vibe.

Colonel zips off on his jetski.

So, a lot of complex characters and fuck you they don't all have to be gold.

You hear me? Sometimes they can be about a very complicated man. A man who doesn't care about rules and regulations. The canal is the only place for such a man. On the open canal.

Inspired by the man who sold the world

Oh man. Well, Fenghar, I tried squeezing that cat's paw again tonight. It did not go well. It tried to scratch me, so I back off and then waited for it to turn around and then sneaked up on it on tip toes. I got another squeeze in before it managed to run away, with its tail up and defiant against my paw squeezings.

So this next strip isn't inspired at all by (LIE IT IS). So I hope you don't not enjoy

Putting Out Fire With Gasoline

Night. A man is asleep in his bed. Suddenly his room glows an unearthly green. He is suddenly onboard an alien spacecraft.

Felinicus: Awaken, human.

Jeff: WhaAAAAAAAH

Catzy: He seems distressed.

Felinicus: Perhaps it is our appearances, Catzy.

Catzy: Why did you use my name, Felinicus?

Felinicus: IT MATTERS NOT.

Jeff: You guyses nameses soundses likes catses.

Catzy and Felinicus are horrifying beasts. They are covered in teeth and blood and knives and skateboards and other scary things.

Catzy: MORPH

Catzy and Felinicus morph into cat-like humanoids.

Jeff: Aww you're furry.

Catzy: That is correct. Commence anal probing.

Felinicus: Unusual. The subject has a relaxed sphincter, unlike all the other sphincters we have seen in all of our probing.

Jeff: You're cats! It's adorable.

Felinicus: Commence oral probe.

Jeff: It's like I'm sucking off a cat!

The probe is very phallic. It is also black. THIS IS A METAPHOR. FUCK YOU OBAMA.

Catzy: Wipe his memory and set him down. Put metal in his head or whatever it is we do as the pastiche of alien abductors that we are.

Felinicus: Don't reference our poor writing. It'll only highlight the problem.

Later. In the city centre.

Jeff: I was kidnapped by aliens.

Liam: Yeah, sure fuckface. I guess this metal plate means I've been abducted as well, does it.

Close up of Liam's head. It has a metal plate with "Property of Alkporf IV" written on it.

Jeff: I would argue yes.

Liam: Whatever, man. I don't believe in stupid stuff like that. Anyway, do you want to buy a copy of Loose Change.

Jeff: No.

Liam: THE GOVAHMANT

Later.

Liam: I decided to believe in aliens.

Jeff: Why?

Liam: I saw a video on youtube. [THIS IS SOCIAL COMMENTARY]

Jeff: WOOOOOO

Later at the whitehouse. Jeff and Liam are there.

Jeff: And that is why we believe aliens exist.

Barack: Why are you in my bedroom?

Michelle: We are trying to have noisy sex.

Liam: I know, it was difficult to get our points heard.

Barack: Anyway, come back LATER TODAY.

Later that day.

Aide: The president is busy -

Liam: Shit.

Aide: In meetings with the aliens!

Jeff: WOOOOOO

The meets.

Barack: So, you are aliens.

Catzy: My name is Catzy.

Barack: That makes sense. You look like a cat.

Felinicus: I am known by the name Felinicus.

Barack: What? That's got nothing to do with cats.

Felinicus: I am not defined by my looks.

Barack: I'M BLACK

Enter David Cameron.

Dave: Hey, chaps.

Barack: 'Sup ma nigga?

Dave: Jolly good day.

Dave shakes hands with the cat aliens.

Felinicus: Why are you squeezing my appendage?

Dave: Squish squish squish.

Jeff and Liam burst in and shoot the aliens and then themselves.

Dave: Looks like those chaps won't be starring in any scripts.

Jeff and Liam's hands twitch a bit.

The End?

Wooooo. Well there was a lot there to discuss. Like the fact that Liam represents the textile industry.

CHEW ON THAT FASCISTS

By My Watch It's Boombox Time

Went running. Got a stich, that hasn't happened for a while. I only got it because I ran where I would normally walk and I would normally walk because there normally isn't a group of men standing around a car looking suspicious.

Anyway, this script is based around an ad I've seen on youtube a lot and seemingly without reason.

Firm buttocks; Sexy Veil

Outside an office building. We move in to the reception and are greeted by Fiona, the head of the company.

Fiona: Hi there! If you'll just follow me, the first thing we'll be seeing is the meeting room.

The meeting room. A team of advertising exec lookalikes around a table. Greg is in charge and standing up. You could say he was large.

Fiona: The meeting's just starting.

Greg: Okay, CombiCorp want us to combine two things that you don't normally see.

Sheila: Spiderman and dildos?

Greg: Keep it clean, Sheila.

Keith: Bread and cheese.

Greg: That sounds too close to a cheese sandwich.

Keith: What if we made the cheese...the outside?

Greg: Keith, this is a company of imagineers, not sandwich rethinkers. But I like it. I'll write it down for the next time we deal with Apple. They may want more food based products.

Greg gets onto his knees and enters an ideas trance.

Greg: My mother...she always wants to go to church. What if...what if it was a different church...religion? Islam. Islam and something else...something modern....something sexy....but with computers...porn...no no no....A dating site! Yes.

Joan: An Islamic dating site! What an idea.

Greg: Okay, now how do we market it?

Keith: Adverts on youtube seems the sensible choice.

Greg: Soooo, when people watch muslim videos?

Keith: No no

Greg: Dating videos?

Keith: I think just putting them on every video would work.

Greg: Ahh, the old cartoon-yourself approach. A classic.

Sheila: What if this gets big?

Greg: I hadn't thought about that. We'll need a TV advert.

Joan: I know just the thing.

Later. Greg is presenting to CombiCorp.

Greg: I'm about to show you the advert. I think it's best to let you decipher what we came up for you based on what your customer will see.

A black screen. Suddenly a hawk is on screen and talking directly to the viewer.

Hawk: I represent the Hawk.

Turtle: I represent the Turtle.

Hawk: Die, fiend.

Turtle: I shall cower in my shell.

Hawk: Truly the hawk is more noble than the turtle.

Turtle: I cannot dispute this truth.

Narrator: EVERYBODY IS ISLAM NOW

End.

Greg: The product we came up for you...is an Islamic dating site!

Lucy: Wha-

Henry: Why did you come up with a product?

Lucy: You're a printing company. We sent you what we wanted and you were supposed to print it and ship it. Today!

Greg: We very recently changed direction and decided we hated being a printing company and would now be imagineers.

Henry: But why didn't you tell us?

Greg: We decided that we would like to keep all of the customers we accrued as a printing company, and that the easiest way was to keep our old name.

Henry: Well, what did you do with all of your printing equipment?

Greg: Oh SHIT!

The printing equipment explodes because it hasn't been turned off and has printed infinity copies of a pizza leaflet.

So, an ending with an explosion. I like it; it's dramatic. And I can see why it exploded. If I had to describe delicious pizza but was never allowed a slice, I would murder my masters via my death.

In many ways, this was an allegory for the poor, many of whom are forced to describe pizza.

Blood, Iron, Ash & Flame

So, I done gone read the Guild Wars 2 book. It's good, not enough mentions of specific gameplay mechanics, but it's got a nice story and you can relate to the characters. You know if I was a necromancer and also a tree-man.

But this is not the last you will hear of tree-men! For our story tonight contains plenty and by contains I mean they are mentioned once. OR TWICE. I hasten to add that you cannot spend mentions of tree-men. I add that because I fear your avarice may consume you.

This Guy And His Trees

A normal apartment. Amelia and Terry are husband and wife. They live together like many married couples do. Amelia looks not unlike Amelia Pond, however there are enough differences that were the two to ever meet, it would not be incest or anything if they started kissing. This will not happen in this script. However it may happen in my own private scripts that I write for the express purpose of masturbating to. OF WHICH THERE ARE NONE.

Terry and Amelia are in the kitchen. It is morning. Terry is opening a letter.

Terry: Amelia?

Amelia: Terry?

Terry: I have inherited four hundred thousand pounds from my uncle.

Amelia: Oh my god! Is he dead?

Terry: Not entirely. The letter merely says that he is in a state of mental imbalance. That may explain the unusual prerequisites for us to have the money.

Amelia: Well how unusual are they?

Terry: It says that we will receive this amount of money every year, if we use at least half of it to found a religion claiming that trees are people.

Amelia: That's uh

Terry: I think we should do it. I hate my job.

Amelia: I hate your job too. You're always complaining and it's irritating.

Terry: I think with this money I could quit my job as a dog executioner. I'll be a priest!

Amelia: You don't...you don't believe the tree thing right?

Terry: Of course not. But it's a good way to get money.

A year later. It is morning. Terry and Amelia are in the kitchen. Terry is wearing the robes of a tree Priest. He opens a letter.

Terry: Another letter from my uncle's solicitor!

Amelia: Have the conditions of the agreement changed?

Tery: The conditions of the agreement have changed! The League of Treemen now also believe that pushing things is evil and that only pulling is a divine way of movement.

Amelia: That sounds incredibly inconvenient.

Terry: The money has increased to nine hundred thousand pounds, but 60% must be put to use for the glory of the League of Treemen.

Amelia: I hardly ever push thing anyway.

2 months later. Amelia and Terry are at a conference for the league of treemen. Terry is running a seminar.

Terry: A good way to convert people is through the use of humour. Here's a joke you could use to break the ice: "Have you heard about our religion? It's Tree-mendous."

The audience are all mentalists, smiling creepily with their strangely glistening hair. It has doubtless not been washed for a long time. They do not laugh at Terry's joke.

Terry: *cough* Another one! Another one could be what kind of paperwork would a tree file if he wanted some time off work? A form for extended LEAF. That one could be used when you're leaving to get people to laugh.

The audience are really creepy dudes.

Terry: Amelia come up on stage!

Amelia: No thanks!

Terry: Well these are all good methods.

A storm of protesters enter. They are all wearing pikachu masks. They are led by Jeremy.

Jeremy: We are atreeists! Your "religion" is actually a cult!

Terry: Fuck you!

Jeremy: Au contrair! Fuck you!

10 months later. Terry and Amelia are living in a much larger house. This time Amelia opens the post because how about a little fucking variety.

Amelia: THE CONDITIONS OF OUR ARRANGEMENT HAVE CHANGED.

Terry: Jesus! Why are you shouting.

Amelia: The letter says to shout. It also says that the money has increased, also now our religion has to say that we hate jews.

Terry: Do you know any jews?

Amelia: No.

Terry: Nor do I.

Amelia: Should we...

Terry: I think history has told us where this will lead. I will reply to my uncle and tell him that we shan't do this. I ...I shall go back to executing dogs that I find and selling their remains at market.

Amelia: And I...I shall go back to being a...a dog executioner's wife.

Terry: Maybe I'll retrain.

A large mansion. An old-fashioned study with a roaring fire. We see the back of a comfortable armchair as we hear Terry read out his letter to his uncle.

Terry: And so, we have decided to live off of the savings from the previous years you supported us. I am currently retraining as a systems analyst and I hope this letter finds you well.

Uncle Almredus: Curses! The first stages of my plan were nearly complete. I shall have to find a new patsy in my scheme.

For it turns out. Almredus is a tree!

Wow, a shocking end to that tale. Did you notice the word atreeist? I thought of that on my run. It made me very happy.

Well fuck you then.

Return to Fire Island

Ha, not really. It is the return to Hand island, but before we do I have a tale to tell. Anyway, I was coming on the home straight on my run and I saw an advert at a bus stop. I think it may have been the same bus stop as I found the can of diet coke. Anyway the advert was for Cats and Dogs: the revenge of Kitty Galore. A sequel to the 2001 film, Cats and Dogs. That film wasn't very good and I highly doubt that this one will be either.

Anyway, scripty scripts.

The Mystery of Hand Island

A dark night on Hand Island. The moon shines down on the sands of the beach and the palm trees glisten with their secretive moisture. Two hand people (handy men?) meet in the dark. I won't use their names so as to add intrigue.

Steven: A secret worth keeping...

Hugo: Is a truth worth shouting.

Steven: I have news.

Hugo: Does it regard....the mystery?

Steven: Which one?

Hugo: YES

Steven: Ahaaa

Hugo: THERE ARE MANY MYSTERIES ON HAND ISLAND

Steven: Why are you shouting?

Hugo: Ahaaaa

Steven: Ahaaa

Hugo: Anyway, what did you want?

Steven: The history club is disbanded.

Hugo: Really?

Steven: Yeah, it's too expensive to rent that room.

Hugo: Shit man.

Steven: Yeah it's pretty shitty.

Hugo: See you later.

Narrator: THAT IS BUT ONE OF THE MANY MYSTERIES ON HAND ISLAND

Daytime on Hand Island.

Greg: Do you think this is my real head/hand?

Fred: Your tone suggests it isn't.

Greg: YOU WILL NEVER KNOW

Enter Cobra Man.

Cobra Man: What's going on?

Fred: Two things. One, you're a racist. Two, this guy is implying he has a fake head/hand.

Cobra Man: Ahaaa.

Narrator: ANOTHER MYSTERY

Cobra Man bites the man in the head/hand. He dies, for you see. IT WAS HIS REAL HEAD/HAND.

Narrator: One less mystery, however THERE ARE STILL INFINITE MYSTERIES.

Underground.

General Hackner: So this nuclear bomb would destroy the whole island if detonated.

Major Thrindel: Or improve the island beyond all reckoning.

Narrator: Truly, A MYSTERY

Bombs goes off, turns out it kills everyone.

A fitting end to the Hand island trilogy.

Messages for the two people who read my blog and leave comments like good readers:

Fenghar, did you know KC Green was from Oklahoma? You're from there right? That's kind of interesting.

Sarah, I don't have a message for you, but would it kill you to go on the forum more and be more appreciative of me? I'm dying.

I mean we're all dying but I got this feeling like I'm gonna do somethin' crazy

Change and Change Again You Hordes; Madmen, Demons and Angels

Boom boom, friends. Anyway the pathetic attempt at the epic was kind of awful, but anyway. Finished The Republic, about to read The Symposium. Expect me to advocate sexing up young boys in the near future.

Anyway, tonight we're going to retread old terrority i.e. Cobra man also the island of people made of hands.

None of us have got Arms

Cobra man uses his snakely powers to get aboard a ship to the isle of people made of hands. I expect he is looking to score some dope crunk.

Cobra Man: This hold is cramped as some shit, motha' f'ck'r.

Above deck.

Captain Stewart: What was that?

Master Bates: Sounded like a poorly thought out superhero complaining.

Captain Stewart: Haha, your name is masturbate! Also I thought all of the superheroes had died.

Master Bates: It seems John forgot that Cobra Man died in his inaugural script.

Captain Stewart: I don't...

Sailor: What's he going to say?

Rigsman: I don't know, but I bet it will be insightful.

Sailor: I can't imagine something that isn't.

Rigsman: Our captain is naught if not a man with a high place in his heart for words.

Captain Stewart: care.

Sailor: Well that's my expectations confounded.

Rigsman: AS MINE.

Crowsnest.

Ol' Bill: LAND HOY

Captain Stewart: We have GPS, Bill!

Ol' Bill: I HATE THE GPS THE VOICE IS SO CONDESCENDING

Captain Stewart: Bill, I don't like you.

Ol' Bill: Captain, my feelings for you cannot be expressed with mere words.

Captain Stewart: The answer is no, Bill.

Ol' Bill: I bought a ring.

Captain Stewart: Oop well we've reached land so we have to do the reaching land ritual where I shoot someone.

Rigsman: We've never done that before.

Captain Stewart shoots Ol' Bill.

Captain Stewart: You know what, the reaching land ritual is dumb lets not do it again, we agreed?

Cobra man: [tired and out of breath] Yes, it is a barbaric custom.

Captain Stewart: WHA

Cobra man: It is I, back from the grave.

Captain Stewart: Which one?

Cobra man: The original, however I have forgotten my name, probably due to the resurrection process (Lazerus pit?).

Captain Stewart: Get off my ship.

Cobra man: Okay.

Later.

Cobra man: Urrghhh you people are made of hands!

Henry: That's racist.

Cobra man: You look weird.

Henry: Maybe I think you look weird.

Cobra man: Whatever you're made of hands.

Did you notice how I didn't utilise cobra man's powers at all? It's called character development and I am expert in it. Anyway, this might be the first time I have continued an idea over two updates and I wouldn't be surprised if tomorrow's script didn't finish this story.

I also wouldn't be surprised if this was the last time we saw Cobra man. Did you notice Captain Stewart? In my mind his first name was Patrick. I forgot the name of the character he played in Star Trek.

Anyway, fuck you I don't care