The X-Flies - The Immortal Bart

The X-Flies...
The Immortal Bart

Last time, on the X-Flies...

A disgusting load of biliously glowing, viscous toxic goop erupted in a spectacular nocturnal emission all over cases and cases of unsold consumer electronics in a warehouse in New Jersey. Instead of being destroyed, a SODOM * occurred and the electronic devices became malevolently animated. They took over the building, yanking the Chief Scientist into their lair in the ventilation system. He was last heard screeching, "EXCUSE ME?!!" as he left pieces of his beard and clothing on the grating...
FBI Special Agents Mildew and Scuzzy arrive on the scene waving their badges and looking as inconspicuous as a bull elephant's stiffy. From the ceiling, we hear faint sounds of the critters making - modifications - to their captive ...

Mildew speaks, "What the fuck was that?!"
Scuzzy, mortified as usual, by Mildew's gratuitous use of the 'F' word snaps, "Mildew, you can't say 'fuck' on duty!"
"I don't know what got into me, except maybe that fucking bioelectronic prostate implant I got from those fucking aliens who abducted me in last week's episode of the fucking X-Flies (now available on VHS and Super-8 for only $19.95, a fuck of a good deal!)"
"Mildew, you've got to use smaller words, we've got a Manager here!", Scuzzy rolls her eyes at Edgood.
Oblivious, Edgood has just logged off his broker's web site where he traded 127,861 shares of his near-worthless stock options to buy 10 shares of the competitor's stock. He assumes his most intellectual air and says, "Huh?".
Mildew opens his mouth to reply, but at that precise moment, the ceiling caves in and Ned, the Chief Scientist falls onto the desk. There's a wild look in his eye, and he looks remarkably like Ian Anderson in his Aqualung days. He twitches and quotes in a quavering voice tinged with a raw edge of hysteria,
"All the world's a database
   And all the men and women merely row-column entries
                  - URK! -
   They have their totals and subtotals
   And one man in his time may populate many fields,
                 - UNGH! -
   His computational macros being single character filenames."
Horrified, Edgood says, "The damn spiders have assimilated the Elizabethan Translators!" He screams at his secretary, "Get me Maloney in Accounting!"
Ned drones on,
"At first, the infant, mewling and puking spurious data
And then the whining school-boy, with his daddy's BMW
       and cellular phone,
Dragged kicking and screaming to school in a THC haze.
                - OOK-OOK!"
The phone rings on Edgood's desk, and again.   He wrinkles his brow and says, "Hey, what's that sound?"
Judy Missingher, Edgood's secretary, goggles at him.   "It's the phone, Giles!"
"Oh. Right." He snatches it up and barks at Maloney, "I thought we sold all the Bard-O-Matics last season!"
The bean counter checks her figures and hangs up on him. He stares at the dead handset in horror, as the sick realization sinks in. He screams in despair, "Oh shit! GUARANTEED SALES**!"
Ned's voice has risen to an exultant incantation,
"And then the lover, huffing and blowing like an asthmatic 442 hemi
With glasspacs and overhead cams, slave to the whim of
        a demanding nitrous injector
                        - BEEDEE-BEEDEE-BEEDEE, THAT'S RIGHT BUCK!!
Then a soldier, full of strange ideas about female cadets and
       Vaseline, and leering at his pud!
                        - YEE-E-E-HAH!"
Always keenly observant, Mildew spies a couple of spiders in the ceiling working the joystick of an old Sega video game controller. It's connected to a wire coming out of the Chief Scientist's pants leg.
God only knows what the other end of that cable's jacked into.
Mildew pulls his gun and nines the little buggers without a second thought. Ned convulses in mid-ramble, and ejects his false teeth like a TOW missile. They ricochet harmlessly off the wall and he falls to the floor like a sack of spuds, dead.
"Eeeeee-e-e-e", the spiders cry as all over the building, hordes of ferocious spider-borgs leap from the ceiling to slaughter the workers.
"Doh!", says Mildew...
"Way to go, Homer," says Scuzzy.
Edgood chimes in happily. "Hey, I like that Bart.   Does he work with you guys?"

And now, a word from our sponsor: The Feat Death of the Universe

Back

The Fuhtnotes

*	A SODOM, for those of you unfamiliar with the acronym, is a "Suspension Of Disbelief, Obvious Miracle"
**	Guaranteed Sales - A foolish marketing strategy by which a manufacturer promises a retailer to accept back all unsold product if only they'll please, please put our stuff on your shelves! Now that's market research, folks, Darwin-style...