Quantcast

Jump to content

» «
Photo

Sonic the Comedy.

1 reply to this topic
The Pizza Delivery Guy
  • The Pizza Delivery Guy

    Just A Stupid Kid.

  • Members
  • Joined: 29 Jan 2013
  • None

#1

Posted 30 October 2013 - 03:01 AM Edited by The Pizza Delivery Guy, 30 October 2013 - 03:02 AM.

My latest "work," been on a hiatus doing school work and just plain not writing. But here's a complete joke that I wanted to make for a while and finally got around to doing. It's the only fanfiction that does NOT resort to sexual fantasies to create literary comedy.

 

 

 

It was the first of July. At least it looked like it was. Sonic raised his hands to cover his eyes from the blinding light of morning. As the drowsiness subsided, Sonic looked about him. He was surrounded by several empty beer cans and puddles of piss. In Sonic’s mind there were only two possibilities for this scenario. Either multiple drunken hobos had taken Sonic to be a toilet overnight, or the subtitle of this fanfiction is brutally false. A note left on his shoes confirmed the latter. On it was written: “Call me: Britanny. 1-800-435-3546”

 

Sonic wasn’t going to sit around and ponder the previous day. He was up and off, as Eggman was sure to be up to no good. Eggman always had a deviously improbable plan up his sleeve at any given moment. There was this one time at Tails’s birthday that Eggman disguised himself as a sexy hooker. It was a cartoon zip up costume, which means it retains its shape regardless of how mercilessly fat whoever is inside it may be. Anyway, Eggman showed up dressed that way, had everyone fooled, and had everyone quite erotic. It wasn’t until Tails offered himself upon the disguised Eggman that he revealed himself. Tails never likes to speak of this day.

On Sonic’s 21st birthday, Sonic got so hammered drunk that Eggman wouldn’t have even needed to dress as his polar opposite to get to Sonic. Sonic ended up losing his shoes and forced every named character in the Sonic franchise to search the furthest regions of the planet (Earth, Mobius, whichever planet they’d been polluting that week) , only to find that the shoes had been taken by a hobo. Sonic took them back, of course, which may actually explain the night before. No, it couldn’t be. There’s no homeless women, and what kind of whore would name their son Britanny?

 

Sonic was still on his way to find Eggman when he stumbled upon Knuckles, whose knuckles were dragging in the dirt. Sonic decided to inquire on Knuckles’ moping.

 

“Knuckles, why are your Knuckles dragging?” Sonic inquired.

 

“I’m really sad today,” Knuckles insisted. “I’ve lost my brass knuckles.”

 

Knuckles always carries his brass knuckles on his knuckles. If Knuckles’ knuckles were dragging around in the dirt all day, no wonder Knuckles’ brass knuckles would be lost. Sonic’s thought process was soon eviscerated by Knuckles. Knuckles started screaming like Chewbacca. Knuckles had spotted his brass knuckles upon the knuckles of Knuckles’ old adversary Black Knuckles, who was a poorly recolored version of Knuckles. Black Knuckles spotted Knuckles, and they both raised their Knuckles.

 

“You’ll never get these brass knuckles back, Knuckles!” Black Knuckles cackled.

 

“Sonic, you have to help me retrieve my brass knuckles! They’re my only family!” Knuckles begged.

 

“I thought Female Knuckles was your family, though,” Sonic questioned. Female Knuckles was a poorly recolored version of Knuckles wearing a dress.

 

“Really? I thought Female Knuckles only existed to provide comedy relief throughout this story?” Knuckles queried.

 

“Well, Female Knuckles has yet to appear so far, so if that is Female Knuckles’ job, he’s doing a terrible job,” Sonic suggested.

 

“Wait, Female Knuckles is a man?” Knuckles gasped.       

 

“Knuckles, shush! That’s supposed to be a major plot point!” Sonic bellowed.

 

“Oh, sorry. I forgot to read over the script again,” Knuckles moaned.

 

The two turned around to find Black Knuckles gone. Throughout all of the dialogue, Black Knuckles was able to escape without any resistance. Unfortunately for him, though, the fanfiction gods decided to write out Black Knuckles from the story forever. Now we’ll follow Tails around, for literally no reason.

 

Tails was devastated. He could not find the mechanical device of which multiple locations in close proximity to said device may be plotted out in a sort of coordinate plane designed to resemble an itinerary calculator. Common folk called the device a GPS. Tails has never been able to visualize surviving as a common man. Such basicness, such patronization menial organisms put up with. For one with brilliance shining above all, one needn’t fret over trivial circadian issues. Common man labored over lugubrious craftsmen in their fields. Never do they shut up. Just leave a man alone!

 

Through the insurmountably idiotic act of talking to one’s self about how intelligent he or she is, Tails distracted himself from flying overtop an indiscriminately placed forest. Engaged in the said self-conversation, Tails spiraled directly into the forest. With his plane decimated, Tails had nowhere to turn. Given that cell phones are conspiratory tools of a corrupt government, Tails never joined the Sonic Team’s T-Mobile plan. There never was a set justification for everyone assembling under the T-Mobile name, it kind of just happened. Regardless, Tails was still stranded, and no amount of GOP bashing was going to change that.

 

Time advanced mere nanoseconds when Tails observed Knuckles dragging his knuckles and Sonic literally running circles around him.

 

“Come on Knuckles, let’s run! You know you want to! Gotta go fast!” Sonic droned on about running in this manner the entire time while Knuckles continued dragging his Knuckles. It wasn’t until the two spotted Tails that Sonic quieted his meandering.

 

“Hey Tails, what’s cracking?” Sonic screeched in a fashion resembling that of a teenager going through puberty.

 

“Only your voice,” Tails retorted. “I crashed my plane nearby, and I’m severe need of plot relevance.”

 

“Well we were just moments away from bringing down Eggman’s latest evil scheme,” Sonic quickly replied.

 

“Are we going there now?” Tails demanded.

 

“We can’t now,” Sonic shouted, “This part’s gone on way too long. We need to split the story up into separate parts for the sake of anticipation on both sides of the literary spectrum.”

 

And with that, Sonic resumed running circles around Knuckles, demanding the story be paused.

 

We will compromise this only once. More story, however, will arrive at a later date.

 

BECAUSE COMEDY.


The Pizza Delivery Guy
  • The Pizza Delivery Guy

    Just A Stupid Kid.

  • Members
  • Joined: 29 Jan 2013
  • None

#2

Posted 28 December 2013 - 06:25 AM

WHOOPS guess there was a whole second part to this:

 

Seamlessly as it had begun, the first fragment of the writing process had concluded.

 

"Thank Phil Collins," the Writer sighed as he closed Microsoft Office Word 2010. He'd been tirelessly exceeding his mental parameters attempting to construct sentences in a literary fashion so that he may not come off as a writer still in preschool. Typing the exposition for his latest anal excrement which only toddlers would find entertaining was exhausting. He clicked open his Firefox browser and crossed out of the window. He continued on to delete his history as well, as if some emo douche on the internet took it upon themselves to steal his information, and in turn discover how much of a vocabulary hack he really was.

The Writer was moments from deactivating the roaring beast next to him did an idea flash in his mind.

 

"That's brilliant!" the Writer exclaimed to himself. "That's masterful writing in its purest!"

 

The Writer quickly re-opened Microsoft Office Word 2010, and set his formatting. Only then did he realize, with great dismay, the idea had escaped him, and he could no longer recall what he had thought to be the most brilliant of literary comedy. The Writer wept for a moment, and resumed his writing for the second part of his atrocity: Sonic the Comedy.

 

The set of Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles sustained the exposition from the previous part. They were journeying to become the foundation of the demise of the once brilliant commander of militias of large mechanical locomotives. Sonic had excommunicated himself from the group, presuming the other two were voluntarily participating in gossip and continually excluding Sonic from partaking in said gossip as well.

 

"Those fools won't make a morning's worth of travel before the monsters find them," Sonic laughed with pride. He was speaking, of course, of the tribes of incessant ghouls that wandered the outskirts of the Writer's mind. What, you think this took place in a real location? Why that's a foolish mistake indeed! What sort of story such as this would ever take place in a true world? No, the forest that Sonic and every other character Sonic's ever come across has always existed within the mind of the Writer! Just be careful not to inform Sonic of this classified information. If he or anyone else in the story discovered this, great chaos would definitely ensue (chaos is used in this case as a verb. It's very difficult to distinguish the two words in the Sonic universe). In any case, we'll resume with the story.

 

Sonic sprinted throughout the woodland on his own, wondering why the plot had been on standstill for the entirety of the previous paragraph. It soon became apparent to him what exactly had been going on. He stopped running and stared intently.

"Okay," Sonic spoke softly, "I know what mission the narrator has told you to carry out, but certainly you mustn't have believed him!"

Sonic was alone among the trees, and was merely speaking to the air in front of him, but anyone who has ever read Don't Let The Pigeon Do X book series knew exactly what was approaching: Audience participation!

 

"Great chaos and destruction?" Sonic scoffed. "How could anyone fall for such nonsense? Surely you must understand the insurmountable importance of informing me on the sensitive topic of whether or not we really exist or we're just a manifestation of the Writer's conscious and/or subconscious mind? You can tell me that, right?"

 

(At this point the reader should shout as piercingly and anti-cohesively as utterly imaginable to his or her computer screen. Or don't, it won't affect the outcome of the story anyway)

 

Sonic was befuddled at the retort of the audience. "What do you mean you won't tell me? Do you have any idea of the implications of your misinformation? We could all be dead and we don't even know it! Just speak, man! Or woman!"

(Once again, the reader should shriek at his or her screen. You really should. It'll be fun)

 

Sonic, this time taken aback, would not stand for such deification. "I hereby command you, reader of this story, to speak of our tragedies!"

 

(You really should shout. I mean, I'd stop pestering you to do it! You'd like that monkey off your back, wouldn't you?)

Sonic, infuriated, finally moved to his last resort. "Please?"

 

(You know what, I'm not even going to say it this time. If you really want to, go ahead and tell Sonic! That would be hilarious, correct; death, destruction, only Hollywood's best attempt at comedy in this day and age? Pathetic.)

 

Sonic dropped the subject, and noticed he had been watched. From afar, he could visually notice two distinguishable silhouettes. He quickly pulled out his smartphone and brought up his Fave-Fives from his T-Mobile telecommunications provider. Neither of the silhouettes resembled that of his Fave-Fives friends icons. In fact, the silhouettes resembled more that of robots, rather than anthropomorphic mammals. One robot scaled much higher than the other. Sonic registered one silhouette as a Terminator and the other as R2-D2.

 

"How foolish of you to fall for my EEEEEEVIL plot, SHAWNICK!" a voice bellowed.

 

Sonic thought the robots had challenged him, however after a moment's contemplation Sonic concluded that the voice had not come from the robots in front of him, but rather from above him. Seconds later, he was gone. Not in a cloud of dust, but rather into a cloud of dust. The one at the center of the event had none other been the sinister Dr. Gregory Fitzgerald Otto Nikola Sigmund Albert Archimedes Galileo Augustus Julius Plato Ivo Robotnik, who everyone had finally gotten to calling "Eggman" after Robotnik's long ass name needed to be plastered on every wanted poster across Sonic's domain (For more detailed information on the Writer's Sonic fanworld, please venture to my Sonic fanfiction titled Adventures Explained. Shameless self-promotion, I know).

Eggman, soon deflated by his victory, viewed Sonic's ashes as a mistake. He decided he would create a machine to return Sonic to the land of the living. Right after, of course, his daily dose of Modern Family.

 

The story cut to Tails and Knuckles who, over the course of the previous events, discovered Eggman's latest base of operations. The night was finally upon them. Tails, never known for the clumsiness he'd been experiencing that day, had forgotten to bring torches along, meaning every turn could mean a gaggle of creepers primed and prepared to combust immediately in their faces. Luckily for them, they were not within the realm of Minecraft, but rather in the realm of Fallout. Unluckily for them, they were in the realm of Fallout, meaning both were unwillingly forced into side quests in order to raise their XP to a level of which they may stand a fighting chance in the thick woods. Tails, in the midst of the worst sun cycle of his short life, had also forgotten stimpaks, meaning they had to survive by way of slowly regenerating from squirrel on a stick and 200 year old Salisbury steak. Tails had only packed anticipating encounters of Postal-like enemies. He was carrying seventeen cats, all of which originally intended to be used as silencers, two M-16 rifles, and taco take-out. They wasted the taco take-out early on after an encounter with a super mutant. In any case, the two would need to find shelter within the confines of Eggman's fortress. Tails hoped there was already a bed inside that did not have an owner; because of course he had not packed any wool.

 

Knuckles used his once dragging knuckles to vehemently penetrate the steel encasement of Eggman's base, thus crafting a microscopic orifice; if there was an orifice at all, Tails couldn't view it due to the lack of a microscope.

 

In any case, they chose to enter through the front door. Within the confines of the iron shell, thick darkness immediately befell the two. Blinded in the lingering blackness and insurmountably eerie silence, neither could control their heartbeats. A solitary sound would be reassuring, but the total silence was what was disconcerting. The dense, black emptiness of the base exhausted the imagination, as if goblins hung in the shadows mere inches from their faces. The culminating fear and sudden rush of similes were too much for Tails to take, and he screeched.

 

This activated the security system.

 

Immediately, a multitude of red targeting rays emitted from several robotic defense mechanisms implanted on the walls of the base. The targets locked, and a countdown initiated counting down from 10.

 

"I'd love to know whether or not I'd love to say this," the always confusing Knuckles spoke softly, "But I'd love to believe that I've always loved to love you, Tails."

 

"Would you shut up?" Tails responded.

 

Then, just as suddenly as the targeting rays appeared, they vanished, and the simile-filled darkness returned again. A voice could be heard from outside the base.

 

"Perhaps next time I'll give him a head start," Eggman spoke.

 

Eggman entered his base, and drug his feet as he walked into the steel shell.

 

The two anthropomorphic animals had only a second to dive into hiding before Eggman trudged into view. He had a sad look upon his face and he held an order from Pizza Hut.

 

"Hopefully this pizza will help the brainstorming process," Eggman talked (at least he thought he was) to himself as he activated a 50" HDTV. "A device to bring Sonic back to life… now how could that be built?"

 

Knuckles could hardly contain his excitement, "Sonic is dead? But dead is dead! How could someone who has never been dead like Sonic be dead now? Well, he was dead once but that past is dead and dead is dead is dead."

 

"I wonder what that voice in the sky meant by 'all in the Writer's head?'" Eggman continued.

 

"'All in the Writer's head?'" Tails reverberated.

 

"That would explain the sudden drop off of details. I can hardly make out the world around me."

 

"Everything is in the Writer's head? So we only exist in the imagination of a higher being? That almost sounds like an idea for a religion…"

 

Suddenly the world around the three began to tremble, as if a large scale earthquake had triggered. Eggman's base began to crumble under the tension. A helix of color emitted from Eggman's HDTV. It generated a gravitational pull, and soon, that pull became stronger than the Earth's, and random objects began spiraling into the helix of color.

 

"Why is my TV a black hole?" Eggman screamed at the top of his lungs before being sucked into the helix.

 

It wasn't long until the entire base, along with Tails and Knuckles, were sucked into the black hole. Where it went, nobody knows.

 

Until the next part of course.

 

BECAUSE PLOT DEVELOPMENT





1 user(s) are reading this topic

0 members, 1 guests, 0 anonymous users