70And Now for Something Completely Different:
Emiri Kimidori was at home doing... things. Ever since her ass was kicked out of Hinamizawa by Kuyouh she had to make herself busy - being private.
"Yes... yes... yes...," she moaned with a hiss as she looked at her titillating doujin. Her breathing made no mistake about what she's-
"Emiri!" her roommate called out from the door.
"Shit!" she hissed as she hastily put on her pants and cleaned her hands, tidying herself on the way out. A few knocks sped up the effort.
The door opened. "What were you doing?"
Emiri smiled cheekily. "Just tending to my affairs."
She eyed her suspiciously. "You're not fapping to Steve RogerxThor yaoi, are you?"
She was silent and Emiri made her face blank as possible to hide what's really in her mind. "No. Not at all."
The moment of truth. Her roommate was examining her face and looking into her eyes while Emiri sweated, fearing that she'll see through her toilet-paper thin alibi.
She closed her eyes and smiled. "Okay. I gotta go now." She happily skipped off from her room and she added, "No keggers, huh?"
"Yup. No keggers," Emiri readily agreed. Not that she wanted any. Only her doujins keep her company. She turned back to them, "There, there, no one to bother us..." she hornily whispered.
Anime Borat's Kyon! Do Everything! A special two-part presentation:
Special Chapter: Bunker gegen Mutterbase
A/N: Hello, fellows. Anime Borat here. I'm sure you're wonder why am I continuing this fanfic as Haruhi Suzumiya's star has waned, along with other good animes of the 2000s era. Well, Im not sure myself, whether I'm zombie retaining some semblance of literary sentience, a decrepit old man who stubbornly refused to give up the impossible dream, or I just won't let go of Haruhi Suzumiya - and tormenting its characters and others.
Now, this chapter would feature one of my favorite piece of Internet humor: Downfall(Der Untergang) parodies. I've been watching Downfall parodies for a while since I started here in FFN and Mein Gott are the funniest things in the world. Don't get me wrong, most of the people portrayed in that German cinematic masterpiece were horrible human beings and what they did in history was inexcusable, yet like what Mel Brooks did their power to shock was stripped from them and they're reduced into laughingstocks for the entertainment of the world, this in effect, highlights the absurdity of their ideals which drove them to commit such monstrous acts. It would have a dank meme had it not been for its community: the Untergangers. I owe them so much for having inspire me, I don't have a list but there's Hitler Rants Parodies, TheSilverUniverse, Echoes1224, KakashiballZ, Parker87's Hitler Parodies and Staedty86 to name a few. Thank you so much.
Disclaimer: Haruhi Suzumiya is the property of Nagaru Tanigawa and Kyoto Animation. Der Untergang is the property of Constantine Films. No copyright infringement intended.
Inside the Bunker...
The Fuhrerbunker, nerve center of the Charlie Chaplin cosplayer's empire. Run by several hundred people who were trying to run the country without him.A women walked into the office of Martin Bormann and handed him a set of papers.
"Here's the report," she said.
"Ah." Bormann took the documents. "You can GTFO now." As she walked out, the fatso, one of a trio, guessed what would it be this time. Another antic played on another bunker denizen? He opened and read the contents of the paper. His eyes widened and read it again. He snapped it closed in shock and moved to another office to inform whoever sat in that desk in charge.
Down below the parking lot as a fury of activity was taking place, many cars driving in and people getting out exchanging greetings and salutes. Two people among them where doing the opposite, getting to their car in the rush of people and motors. They were SS men and the greatest antic masters of all time, Heinrich Himmler and Herman Fegelein. They had received the unexpected news and have acted accordingly.
"I receive news that the Fuhrer has returned from Hell," Himmler began.
"Really? I thought my antic was overpowered, pops," Fegelein mused. "Shame. That was a good one and my own formula too."
"Apparently, it did not," Himmler replied. "Maddolf has risen from his grave in the Berlin cemetery and frightened a bunch of passing Hitler Youth into shitting their pants."
"Maddolf always likes a flashy entrance." Fegelein has always had a witty saying whenever Dolfy's involved.
"This is serious," Himmler said urgently. "With Hitler out of hell, he'll want to settle accounts quickly."
"Like it hasn't happened before. The results are laughingly predictable." Hitler's ventures always end in epic fails so much that the Bunker crew generates money by betting over his successes and failures. The latter more lucrative.
"Yes, I know, that. Do you have a an antic on standby?"
"Of course as always." Then Feggy thought about something. "For that matter, how the hell did Dolfy get back here?"
How it happened...
In the Inglorious Basterds universe, IB! Hitler was watching the latest fail compilation featuring his rival from Downfall. He laughed and laughed as he watched Faildolf getting shafted in every turn as a chew toy of the multiverse such as winning the lottery only for it be defunct and many other indignities. It always was a stress reliever for him to see how his counterpart was doing, especially as Brad Pitt and his squad of Jewish killers were making screaming little bitches out of his army in France.
"Excellent, Goebbels," he said in gratitude to his Propaganda Minister, his own Goebbels. "I love these parodies."
"Thank you, Mein Fuhrer," Goebbels complimented.
As he guffawed out loud over Maddolf being bitchslapped by a runaway garden hose, the door burst open to reveal Hewel and Hogl guns a-blazing.
"How dare you insult, Mein Failure, failure!" cried Hewel as they stitched him and the rest of the box with MP40 lead. After killing him, they picked up his body and left the theater which was set to explode with everyone else still inside it, looking badass as the fireball erupted behind them.
They drove out to the woods and brought out IB! Hitler's corpse in a circle of rocks.
"Are you sure this is gonna work?" asked Hogl as he took out some strange powders out of the box.
"This is the only spell I've been able to find before I was kicked out of the Antic Maesters' Library in Newtown," he replied at length pessimistically. "There's no telling if it will work at all."
With the other Fuhrer's corpse laid out in a circle of pebbles while Hogl laid out the powders. "Let's get this on with, I need to return Muller's truck before dawn."
Hewel sighed. "Here goes nothing."
So they performed the ritual. First, Hewel unfolded a piece of paper and began the ritual...
"Mein Dolfy lies over the ocean
Mein Dolfy lies over the sea
Mein Dolfy lies over the ocean
Oh, bring back mein Dolfy to me..."
Hewel sang the song, swaying about his grass skirt while Hogl strums the ukelele, also in grass skirt. IB! Hitler's corpse burned brightly, providing the campfire.
"This is embarassing, Hewel!" protested Hogl. "We look like lunatics!"
"Shut and keep playing!" Hewel the weasel snapped and the song went on.
"Bring back, bring back
Oh, bring back mein Dolfy to me, to me
Bring back, bring back
Oh, bring back mein Dolfy to me..."
Their song number stopped and the only thing approaching applause where the sound of cricket chirps. It went on for a few seconds.
"See! I told you it wouldn't work," Hogl pointed out as he stood the ukelele.
"But that was the most powerful spell I can think off..." Hewel was shocked at this.
"Fegelein played, man. Let's get inside, alright. I don't want to show up to die in the Bunker shitfaced."
"But-" He wasn't about to give up on Dolfy yet.
"Come on, let's go. Someone's gonna arrest us for murder and corpse mutilation." Hogl boarded the truck.
Realizing he failed, Hewel jumped reluctantly into the passenger seat and they drove off.
Back to Pops and Fegel...
"Whoever thought it would work," Fegelein commented on the spell.
"Now that he's back from hell, we'll need to lie low for a while." The suggestion was a prudent one.
"We'll be at this coming Antic Order meeting." Fegelein was confident that Hitler would not dare attack him at a hornet's nest full of the greatest tricksters of the multiverse.
"He'll be watching us there," Himmler reminded him. "Besides, I'd like a break from all this."
"Not that he's trying," Fegelein noted. "How does the Outer Hebrides grab you, pops?"
"What's that?" He never heard of it before.
"Trust me, you'll love it." Then the gear's in the Antic Master's head whirred. "Hmm, I think I'd like a talk with Albert Speer when he arrives." Just on cue a car came in and out came Speer, Hitler's armament chief. He saw Heinrich and Hermann together.
"What's up, brahs?" he greeted them. "Any new antics require my help?"
"As a matter of fact, yes," Himmler stated. "Something to greet the Fuhrer back from the grave."
"Of course." He pulled out his gloves and cooled his hands. "Things haven't been well in the bunker since he last left this world. I have a theory what it would lead to."
"Let's hear it out," Fegelein said excitedly.
Then Speer intimated to him the details of his idea.
"Fascinating," commented Himmler.
"Crazy enough to work," added Fegelein. "Let's give Maddolf a welcome back present."
Hitler receives bailout ...
Hitler was eating with his homies in the Bunker, the menu everything on the menu of Fegel King, including the vegetarian specials. It felt good to be back after spending what was technically six months - more like six hundred years for him! - down the unholy inferno.
"It's... good to... eat something decent after so long...," the Fuhrer said as he ate his Fegel King vegetarian meal.
"You should try the Fegel Tarantula Burger, mein failure," suggested Wilhelm Keitel as he munched on a burger with deep-fried tarantula in it. Actually, it was alive and struggling but taking the bite sealed its fate.
"Ah... Maybe later." In the past, Hitler would have raged against everything about Fegelein. Now that he returned, he's not choosy about what he's eating, even Fegel King's like a banquet to him. Just to make sure, they didn't mention how much in billions in gross income Fegel King made. It would have pissed the old man off.
"How was Hell, mein failure?" Von Greim dared ask.
"Epic... crappy," the Fuhrer replied as he took yet another shaky spoonful of mashed potatoes and sauteed greens. "I was practically suffering there. Made a star attraction for those freaks downstairs... They shoved a pineapple up my ass 24/7 FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!" His companions felt uncomfortable that mention. "That bastard Fegelein and his antics sent me to hell!" The room fell silent minus the clinking of his silverware. "It was so humiliating... Nothing in my previous life ever prepared me for that hole. Not Burgdorf's drunk singing, not Jodl's shiny head, Kreb's and his map and fish fetish, not Gunsche informing me about something stupid or that infernal bastard's antics!"
Flashback...
Gunsche entered the Hitler's office. He informed him, as usual, "Mein failure, we ran out of milk. Can you get some from the store?"
"I will!" he screamed back. But before he can even leave his seat. Hans Krebs entered.
He said coyly, "Mein Failure, my fish for seventy years has died. Can we get some from the supermarket?"
"Yes," he replied more somberly, "anything to get you back to pointing maps." Then Jodl walked in.
"Mein failure," he implored. "I object to the installation of the bunker's new backup nuclear generator."
Hitler blew his top, "WHY THE FUCK NOT!?"
"Because it's environmentally hazardous," he replied vehemently.
"You shiny-headed moron!" The Fuhrer snapped. "Do you remember about the antic Fegelin pulled on Berlin's power grid? I missed my Attack on Titan!" The Failure was a fan of that awesome anime due to its explosive action set-pieces and not the least, the female leads whom he fapped to privately such as Mikasa, Sasha, Annie and more.
"I agree with that but we shouldn't resort to something as unsafe as that," he urged.
"Your shiny cueball head is unsafe, you bald virgin," he snapped back. Jodl was saddened, offending that Shitler brought up his nonexistent love life.
"Mein failure..." It was Walther Hewel's voice.
"Ja," he said in exasperation. This did not sound good.
"Himmler and Fegelein are currently attending the annual Antic Order meeting. There is a good chance that no antics will be committed here and on your person while they're away."
Hitler tired not to roll his eyes. "Good thought. Which is probably why an antic is always around the corner waiting to happen. Haven't you learned of that already, Hewel?"
Goebbels strode in. "Mein failure, can I-"
"ALRIGHT! ALL FUCKING RIGHT ALREADY!" he screamed. "How about everyone make a list of what they want so I could get going already!"
After making the list he went topside to his car and noticed it was dusted with something white and shiny. "What is this weird powder in my car?" He gunned the engine. "It smells weird but no time to worry about that now."
Two minutes into driving...
"What is going on?" he cried as he found himself in a kaleidoscopic vista of swirling rainbow colors much like a hippy on LSD except for the spinning Jodl heads.
Hitler roared beyond the speed limit at a hundred miles an hour and was barreling towards a burning Fegel-Oil gas station. "Ohhh gooood," he said in deep, epic slo-mo, "theeee shooopp seems too beee oppeeen..." He plowed straight into a burning fuel truck and was blown sky-high.
At the funeral...
Everyone attended the funeral of Adolf Hitler in the rain. "Oh mein failure!" wailed Goebbels' unstable wife. "Why did you have to die?"
"I'm sure he likes your BJ's" comforted Dr. Skeletor with a cringe.
Gunsche looked down on his former boss. "Mein Fuhrer, the white powder in your car was Antic Dust, much stronger than any drug in the world. It caused you to trip out and crash your car into the burning Fegel-Oil station." If Hitler was alive, he would have told Gunsche that he knew it already, called him a dumbass then rant about Fegelein being behind it, whether he really was or not. "I did not have the opportunity to douse you in gasoline and light you up on fire." The accident deprived the giant of the honor burning Hitler upon his death, Valhalla-style, which saddened him greatly. True to the point was Maddolf's served extra crispy on display with some cold gravy from the fridge; someone forgot to close the coffin. Poor, sweet Gunsche, even in death you're still loyal to the ranting lunatic.
But for the others, it was even a worse state of affairs. "This is horrible," exclaimed a very depressed Keitel.
"I agree," said Jodl as he paced back and forth in worry. "With the Fuhrer dead, our situation went from bad to worse. We have no one senior enough to ratify the treaty with Stalin over the Antic Masters. That and more problems I can't think about, it's pure madness!"
"Hey, guys, why don't we just chillax and think it over?" said Fegelein in a calm, relaxed voice like he was vacationing in the Caribbean.
"Hitler's dead, you fool!" snapped Keitel. "This time he won't come back for sure."
"And how's that?" Fegelein remained chill as always.
Jodl spun and faced everyone's favorite Antic Master. "Your antic! It's powerful enough to prevent him from coming back."
"Come on, fellas, is it really that worse than what Maddolf had before?" Fegelein smug voice was starting to get on their nerves, yet he has a point, Der Fuhrer and the other bunker occupants had been through many epic and ridiculous moments already.
Burgdorf glared at Feggy. "It doesn't bother you one bit, does it? You opportunist! You only want to increase your FegelCorp, Inc.'s stocks at the expense of ReichCorp."
"You mad about that, brah?" Fegelein's smile broadened noticeably. All Burgdorf did was take a straight-up shot from his vodka in preparation of singing "Poor Old Man" with the other Bunker staff, this time without Faildolf screeching at him for his bad singing.
Back to the present...
"Well, I'm fucking back!" cried the Fuhrer. "And the first I'm gonna do is find Fegelein and-" A knock stopped him mid-rant.
All heads turned to Linge , who walked in with a folder. "Mein failure." He brought a snappy salute.
Hitler chimed, "Ah, the status report on the country..." He accepted it and read it. His hands shook. "This is unacceptable... I can't believe the shit I'm reading... All this occurred while I was away..." He shot up in anger. "I SHOULD HAVE STAYED IN HELL!" He was seething. "I always thought things would turn to shit when I died but this is preposterous! 300 million Failmarks debt."
"Mein failure," Burgdorf said rapidly. "So many problems have cropped up since you died."
Maddolf was fuming red. "Of course they did! None of you imbeciles even know how to drive a fucking Tiger tank when I'm not around!" Facepalming, he added, "I'm surprised that you didn't die of liver failure..."
Burgdorf was stunned by that statement. It meant he hadn't finished his entire stash of vodka.
Gunshe was playing a beautiful violin piece, showcasing his talent to the dinner crowd.
"Gunsche... What the hell are you doing?" Hitler asked sharply.
"Trying to calm you down, Mein Failure," he replied.
"Do it somewhere else!" Gunsche sadly left at that. "My God, we are poorer than Greece!"
"The treasury is practically empty," said a worried Burgdorf. "When I opened the vault all that came out were moths."
"How did that HAPPEN!" he demanded angrily.
"We have incurred a huge budget deficit," explained Goebbels, "after Goering ate all the food in the Bunker, plumbing problems caused by Gunsche after eating at Appleby's, soldiers are on strike over cutting their sausage rations and replacing them with Monsanto's GMO tofu, Burgdorf's tantrum over being deprived of his booze at Alcoholics Anonymous, forced to bale out Riech to prevent a buyout by FegelCorp, a war with Stalin over franchise rights of Stalinland-"
"Shut up already! I know where this is going!" He knew everybody in the bunker too much not to know.
Keitel asked him, "How do we get out of this?"
Maddolf sighed. "We should try robbing some grannies of their handbags," he suggested. "Old ladies are perfect pay dirt and easy targets of assault."
"How will it not end up like the last time?" asked Jodl skeptically.
"This time, it would be timed at the moment where Fegelein's grandma leaves the mall."
"But all your plans always end in failure, especially with anything involving with Fegelein," protested Jodl.
"Stop objecting to my plans, Bald Fuck," Hitler snapped back. "It's not like you contributed to anything useful besides objecting!"
Gunsche entered the room. He then informed, as he usually does, the Fuhrer of the latest news, "Mein failure, you have a phone call from a Christian Grey." He took his glasses off and looked up. Traudl handed him the phone. He accepted. "Hello?"
In Grey's rich and smooth voice, he began, "Hello H-man. How are you feeling?"
"How am I feeling?" he asked, outraged. "I feel like shit! Thank you very much! What the fuck are calling me at this time for, you leather-loving wankstain?"
"Calm down, H-man," he said with concern, "I know that you're going through a very difficult time but what I proposed to you can make you feel better."
"Vos?" Hitler's eyes widened in a way his crystal meth addiction cannot compare.
"I am prepared to offer you 300 billion euroes for the services I'm about to request from you."
This was just stupendous and he knew Grey. "If it's about having a new bottom to rape then go fuck your goat!" In spite of the problems he had staring right at his face he wasn't about to become some S&M freak's new bitch for an enormously hefty sum. He had enough of that already down below and it didn't pay well!
"No! Dolfy, please! You misunderstood," Gray pleaded.
"Auf weidersehen, wanker!" He was about to slam the phone down. "And don't call me Dolphy-"
"I need you and your boys to care of some competition down the line." That stopped him. Grey's voice went serious. "Major competition."
This perked up his interest. "What sort of competition?" Grey explained to him who he wants out of his way. "This is... incredible."
"I'm confident you can take care of the details, Dolfy," Grey added.
"Listen, you caught me in a very bad time and things are shit here, I don't know if I can pull it off but for 300 fucking billion Euros? I DEFINITELY would!"
"That's the spirit!" Grey cheered. "It will be in a bank account in the bank of your choice in Zurich. You will be richer man than you were before, H-man."
This was more than a dream, a miracly actually considering their dire financial straits. "Okay, put half of it there right now in the Bunkers' Bank, half of it when the job's complete," he demanded and slammed the phone. He fist-pumped in excitement. "YES! FUCKING YES! 300 billion Euros to pay off our debt."
"From Christian Gray himself?" asked an astounded Keitel.
"Of course! Disgusting leather-lover or not, he is one of the of the high princes of Fortune 500! Such an offer can't be refused!"
Jodl, as usual, protested, "What if it's another antic by Fegelein and Himmler?"
"What would you have us do?" the Fäilürë asked sharply. "Get our asses defaulted so FegelCorp can have a field day buying cheap land from at my expense? I think not!"
Hewel asked him worriedly, "How about Fegelein?"
"Fegelein can go screw himself!" And that was that.
Hitler plans to attack the Agency...
Hitler assembled his generals and other officials in his office. Everyone was in high spirits as they argued lively.
"I love fish..."
"I object..."
"Can I eat the table?"
"Someone stole my, booze, eh, juice box-"
"Resistance is futile!"
"Trent Reznor is awesome!"
"Sasuke sucks Naruto's-"
"Silence, retarded minions," he quipped sharply, having put up with such preliminaries before. The room quieted down.
"This is our most trying time ever," moaned Keitel. "We are presented with such a rich opportunity yet I fear we may not pull it off..."
"Shut your cakehole, Keitel, and let us do some planning," Hitler cut him off. "With luck and our heads in it together, we will prevail. This is gonna be most awesome operation we devised ever."
"Mein failure," asked Jodl. "How do we pull this ridiculous scheme off?"
Hitler hunched over and pointed on the map. "We will launch our strike force against the coordinates Grey gave to me. It would be an all-out shock and awe plan, which would obliterate the Agency. Those fairies would be shark food and we will be 299.7 billion Euros richer." He nodded his head for the meeting to proceed.
"How do we proceed?" Jodl asked again.
"Bonkers," Dolfy ordered.
"Although reconnaissance photography revealed nothing on that area," Monkhe began. "SIGINT monitored a lot of radio traffic coming in and out of it and ship and aircraft movements are seen, disappearing and seemingly reappearing at a whim. The absence of news of these disappearances in the media confirmed our suspicions that it is a secret base."
"Any relevant intelligence of this place?" Hitler asked.
"We have the schematics right here in the touch pad. Now to demonstrate my awesome pointing skills." Krebs offered his Fegel-Touch Pad. "It is a three-dimensional diagram of a network of offshore rigs connected by wide steel bridges. The huge central structure is the command center." He displayed the Agency's main offshore base all its 3D glory including captions of its facilities and components. "Ugly compared to my fish."
"Excellent!" congratulated Hitler.
"How should this plan go, mein failure?" Jodl asked again.
"It will be an all out blitzkrieg, with the Kriegsmarine and the Luftwaffe would attack them at the same time at all points of the compass. Just before the Luftwaffe arrives in force, Steiner will bombard them from his flagship to blast the outer platform rings." He gestured to for anyone to take the floor.
"Mein failure," spoke Krebs coyly. "It would be better if you let me and mein fish go in first. I trained them as suicide bombers and they can be launched from our U-boats."
"Good! We can catch them off-guard that way!"
"But mein fuhrer," protested Jodl, "how do we even target critical facilities when we can't even see them?"
"We always find a way!" He slapped his desk in annoyance.
"But what if they're up and alert with their defense online?"
"Oh God, Jodl, stop sweating out the negative details!?" Hitler was pissed with Baldy's objections once again. "It'll work! We just have to trust the plan, you damned virgin!"
Jodl was disheartened by his lack of getting laid being mentioned by Maddolf.
"Your concerns about specific details are unnecessary," Dr. Skeletor joined in. "We haven't discussed the bigger picture and I am confident we can figure that out. This time, the Failure's plan will turn out just fine. Nothing can stop us now, not Fegelein or his Antic pals."
Krebs looked at him darkly. "Like how Fegelein trick you into delivering the bomb to the Failure's birthday party."
"Screw you, fishboy!" Goebbels retorted. "At least I don't masturbate to fish porn!"
"My fish are more beautiful than a half-dead ugly duckling!" Krebs shouted back.
"Oh ja!?" Skeletor challengedm insulted for his utter lack of pleasing looks.
"Ja!"
"SHUT UP, YOU IMBECILES!" Hitler shrieked. "Is there any day here that goes without all of you whining like little bitches?"
Krebs, sensing that he needs to keep Dolfy calm, intervened, "Mein Failure, we may need to time their attack according to their scheduled maintenance, which would give us a thirty minute window. My little fish have confirmed it."
"Good, that's what I'd like to hear!" Hitler was feeling optimistic, at least someone had the sense to agree with him, even if it's the fish masturbator.
Monke added, "We will launch an air strike with our naval assets suppressing their defenses. They drop their payloads at everything they can see. We will maintain a continuous strike so that our troops will drop off from air and sea transports safely to finish the mop-up job."
"So, about our troop readiness?" Hitler asked.
The entire room felt silent. Burgdorf looked uneasily towards everyone else. Krebs, gulped as he was about to tell the unappealing truth. "Mein failure... Our troops are..."
Jodl, the constantly objecting virgin, said the rest, "Our troops are on a sitdown strike and now there are riots all over Berlin over their lack of pay and Krebs's fish menu."
Hitler was astonished with what he heard. He shakily took off his glasses and ordered quietly, "Anyone who aren't the idiots Krebs, Keitel, Burgdorf, and Jodl leave the room now." Only him and his favorite idiots were left in the office. Plus Skeletor and Fatty Bormann.
"WHAT THE FUCK, REALLY!?" He shrieked to the top of his lungs. "YOU FUCKED ROYALLY THIS TIME!"
From outside everyone can hear Dolfy's rage. "... In all my time I spent with you idiots you managed to top this one out! I never expected you to outdo your collectively fuckery like it's a world record but you did..." It always happened whenever he had a mjaor rant and Fegelein is there, not smiling but savoring the Dolfy's butthurt all the same. Everyone else not so much. They remember der Failure has the Pencil of Doom and Mass Destruction.
Gunsche the giant looked to his right to see Gerda crying. Traudl turned to her and comforted her friend, "Don't worry, he won't drop the Pencil again."
"This reminds me of the time when I was presented that bleeding-anus music video!" Shitler cried. "I never seen anything so blatantly hazardous to my entire life!"
"What music video are you talking about!?" Burgdorf retorted defensively.
"Yours, Burgdorf!" the Failure screeched back, standing up. "Just another retarded example of the shit I put up daily with all of you!"
"Mein Failure, please," Wilhelm pleaded. "Give us another chance."
"I have given you people chance after chance!" he replied aggressively. "Only for all of you to fuck it up! IT'S EMBARRASSING!" He slammed some ordinary pencils on the map. "I can't believe that this is happening at all." He grabbed the phone and made a call. "Hello, Koller, it's me. Tell me about my armed forces' status."
At the other end, Koller answered from his desk, chilling with a smoke, "Shit."
"Yes, I know that," Hitler replied sharply, pissed, "but what exactly is the situation?"
"All the way up my chin," Koller replied as he took a drag. A soldier came in with a message.
"Oh, shut the fuck up and give me some details." Dolfy was getting restless from the crap he's been through.
Koller held up the message. "We've just received a message from the soldiers on strike. It says, 'Bring meat back in the menu, fish face or we launch a missile at up your ass,' signed, Wehrmacht Strikers."
"Just tell them to get off their asses and fight if they want things to change because things are really gonna change," Hitler said desperately.
"I can't," replied Koller. "My salary's frozen since you left."
"Stop with the lame-ass excuses and do something!" He slammed the phone down. Hitler could not believe it was that bad. "This batshit preposterous! With our soldiers striking, we have no way of collecting 300 Billion Euros!" And he spun and faced his generals. "All because of you lunatics with me!" Then he wailed, "Why is the entire world against me? It's like when I tried to explain for an advertisement for ReichOven, the state-of-the-art automated gas-powered oven. SO MUCH OUTRAGE! No one told me it was Israel. Should have trusted the fish pervert rather than the Monkey." He breathed deeply. "You're like congenital STDs which came from my mother screwing a horse, goat, and lion in cocaine-and-vodka party..."
He sighed deeply. "Let me piss for a moment to recover my collective sanity before we continue on with our lameass sessions." With that he got up and left the office. Just as he got out, Krebs followed him. "Mein failure, let's not jump into conclusions. Give us another chance."
"Go fuck yourselves," he snapped back as he rounded the corridor.
As soon as Hitler left the others came in. They looked at each other in disbelief.
"Now look at what've all done, you a-neimals!" Goebbels snapped at the generals. "Pissing him off again! You'd make Giggity look like a genius. Day in and day out you do nothing but annoy him with your plans and your inability to destroy Fegelein. If I had a chance I'd trade you all for a talented cocker spaniel with a monkey wrench! But noooo~! We have to settle with you idiots picking each other's bums!"
"Don't blame me, Skeleto!" Weidling finally snapped. "Krebs like fapping to fish and maps!"
Affronted, Krebs blurted back, "What does a Stannis wannabee like you know of fish and maps!? You just listen to Burdgdorf's retarded singing!"
"How dare you call my singing retarded, you tasteless hack!" Burgdorf snapped angrily. This got everyone trading blame and insults such as how Burgdorf sucks at racing games or how Skeletor likes balls. Hewel protested to being called a weasel. This was too much for Hans Fritzsche, who walked out in disgust.
"Get after, Fritzsche," Goebbel ordered. "He's probably planning something stupid."
Fritzsche made his way to the communications room. "Misch, I wish to call Marshall Zhukov now. Connect him with us please."
"Marshall Zhukov?" asked Rochus Misch, the Telegram Man, in horror. What would anyone here want to do with the Russian general pummeling Berlin at this moment!?
"Stop right there, Fritzsche," threatened Burgdorf.
"I'm surrendering the Bunker to the Soviets," defended Fritzsche, "I can't stand defaulting to Goldman's Koch, it's much more humiliating than Fegelein's antics."
"You've always planned to sell us out, you weasel." Burgdorf leveled his Pistol of Armageddon at him. "I'll blast your rat's ass to oblivion!" But Wildling, ehem, Weidling tried to snatch the gun from him-
BOOM!
It blow a giant hole on the roof of the bunker!
"We're gonna need to upgrade our bunker," noted Gunsche.
"Piss off, stupid giant," quipped Magda.
Recruitment drive for adventure...
In Berlin things were going swimmingly with all the deprivations and heavy fighting. Two kids, Inge Dombrowski and Peter Kranz, were spraying the red delivery van of Hans Krebs' Fish and Seafood with white paint. They laughed at their deed when Krebs appeared.
"What the hell are you doing to my car!?" demanded an outraged fish-lover.
"Ah, fuck off, fish man!" Kranz bit back and they ran off, laughing all the way. Krebs gave chase. A truck passed by bearing Ernst-Günther Schenck and his buddy Hermann Muller on the driver's seat.
"This is madness," muttered Schenk. "We're trying to get to carry out a raid with little public support." He saw a burning police car being looted by boys wearing fairy leotards.
"You have Krebs to blame for that," replied Muller. "He insisted in replacing the army menu with fish." A molotov cocktail narrowly missed them by a few inches. A shell just exploded behind and they ran over a cat. "Not to mention the the Reich defaulting."
"Start the music," Schenk ordered. Muller turned on the huge loudspeaker device and played Hitler's latest sales pitch to the people of Berlin.
"GUTEN TAG, PEOPLE OF BERLIN! ARE YOU BORED WITH THE FIGHTING AND CHAOS! WANT TO GET AWAY FROM ALL THE HUSTLE AND BUSTLE? THEN JOIN THE FAILURE'S ASSAULT ON THE FAIRY CASTLE! GUARANTEED FUN FOR THE FAMILY! AND IT PAYS TOO! ANYONE WHO JOINS THE FUN GETS 5000 REICHMARKS WORTH OF POCKET MONEY! AND YOU GET TO KILL FAIRIES! WHAT MORE CAN YOU WANT?"
The recording brought everyone from their daily round of chaos and violence and got them following the truck as they learned of the details of this adventure-with-pay scheme of their Failure.
Intimate moments...
Hitler was inside his private study with Albert Speer. "Speer," he began. "What's the status of our strike forces' TO&E?"
"The Luftwaffe has managed to scraped up enough aircraft for our assault including experimental models," Speer answered in length. "They had to scrounge up junkyards and cannibalize equipment to do so."
"Are they going to that hardware store chain owned by Fegelein?" he asked quietly
Speer gulped, fearing a ranting about to erupt. He sighed. "As a matter of fact, Mein Failure, they are. They need more tools and parts."
Hitler nodded. "Ah, I see. We'll see who's laughing after this."
Speer has some misgivings about the whole idea. "Mein Failure... This venture... Are you sure this will work?"
"It has to work. The fate of the Reich depends on it." Hitler was even sadder talking with Speer than before. The Failure will forever have this feeling of his ass handed down on him again and again.
"Good luck, mein Failure," Speer simply said in sympathy.
"Good to you as well, Speer." Hitler rose and left. Speer had the widest smile on his face as he was in on this from the beginning.
Gunsche was doing his daily rounds of finding Hitler and informing him of whatever just happened, whether Fegelin is in the bunker or not, an ant colony ate Goebbel's kids, or the US elections, or simply running out of toilet paper. He found Dolfy slowly pacing the hallways. He approached to tell him the latest dumbass thing to have happened. "Mein Failure," he began. "A raid against the platform network is being prepared. The entire Werhmacht is pulling itself together for it."
Instead of ranting angrily at him, he just nodded and placed his hand on his chest. "Gunsche, I see that you're always the last to know about anything going on. You're certainly not the smartest tool in the shed but you're definitely loyal. I hope a I can fully trust you with my desk. That thing has been with me since I was a little Dolfy who bought it at a pet shop."
Gunsche looked stunned at Hitle giving him his pet desk, his most beloved item in the world. "Mein Failure... Are you sure?"
"Gunsche, never have the stakes been higher after I left hell to see... a bankrupt Reich. I just found out that we have defaulted to Goldman-Sachs and I do not want to see what happens to us when those fat greedy bastards fuck us up the doughnut hole for profit."
"I understand," Gunsche replied, knowing that banks are bad business when you lose money.
"But here!" Hitler exhorted suddenly. "I was given another chance to pull us out from the brink. A lifeline that reeks of lube, 'ranch dressing,' and leather but a lifeline nonetheless." He looked up to the giant. "Just one chance, just one stroke of luck long enough to succeed and we will have our light in the end of the tunnel!"
"I see..." Gunsche replied. "So you're giving me your pet desk?"
"Can't risk having Fegelface doing something horrible to it," he answered uneasily. "At least you know how to care of it, just like your potato."
"I'm glad you praised for taking care of my potato," Gunsche affirmed brightly with the spud perched on his shoulder. "You said it was a stupid idea."
"Ha, I thought it was at the time but coming back from Hell gave me a different perspective." He looked up at Gunsche. "Take care of my desk. And your potato too."
Gunsche felt sorry for poor ol' Dolfy. "I will."
Hitler nodded. "Get ready for a wild night, Gunsche." With that he walked back to his quarters.
Inside Dolfy's office Dr. Ernst Grawitz waited patiently for the Failure, trying hard to not to alleviate his depression via masturbation over a bronze bust of the leader atop the desk. Fortunately, he hid not have to as der Failure entered his office.
He promptly stood up and shot up his hand in salute like a jacken'-a-box. "Wazzup, mein Failure."
Hitler got to his sit. "Speer's prototype airship, his latest masterpiece."
"Speer really outdone himself this time," agreed Grawitz. "I'm sure Hanna Reitsch will fly it. Congratulations on its maiden flight."
"I'm not informing you, idiot," Hitler scolded him. "I want you to fly the damn thing for the operation."
"Mein Failure, I am a SS Doctor," replied Grawitz, whose nerves were slowly frying. "I can't fly an airship."
"Quit complaining, Dr. Fatso," Hitler dismissed him curtly, "Hanna's leading the right pincer so you'll have to fly or I'll drop your huge ass to a bunch of hungry homos."
Grawitz's face broke at and struggled not to cry. "My... my family... I need to practice my daily habit- I have to be there at dinner."
"Look, fatso, I know you believe a family that blows up together stays together but this operation is much more important than splatting yourselves against the walls of your dinner room. Just try and combine two together."
Dr. Fatty cannot believe Hitler's generosity. Then Gunsche entered.
"I bought some C4 for you," Faildolf added. Grawitz was touched. He stomped his feet in attention and marched off. With Grawitz departed, Gunsche does his usual ritual.
"Fegelein is currently lodged at the Hotel Mobydick attending the Antic Masters' Convention," he said. "It's not guarded at all."
"Dear Gunsche, thanks for informing me what I already know," Hitler replied, having been through this more than a billion times. "But this time, his overconfidence will be his downfall! He's fucked! The greatest antic master of history is about to be undone by one little security oversight! Fucked up! Time bring down Fegelein!" He pounded the table madly. "FEGELEIN! FEGELEIN!"
Meanwhile, Fegelein was enjoying his beauty sleep in the Antic Master's Suite of Hotel Mobydick. Something roused him What was that grumbling sound? Was it his tummy telling him to have himself some Taco Bell? Another grumble.
"What is it?" The answer shattered his assumptions. All he was Goering at the foot of his bed with a chef's hat, flanked by Hogl's men. They grabbed him forcefully from bed.
"Argh! Let go of me!" Fegelein struggled as he was taken away. " I don't want to be eaten by that fat arsed Göring!"
Meanwhile at an airfield, der Bunker's airborne forces assembled and made last minute adjustments to their plans. Everything they can scrape from ammo to pleasure toys have been loaded up, all equipment at acceptable states of readiness. At this moment Steiner's fleet has set out ahead to scope the Agency's headquarters, along with Kreb's and his suicide fish.
As engine's revved, Hitler took an airsickness pill and stepped aboard, followed by his minions. The airship rose and blast off, followed by other aircraft. Onward to destiny and cash.
Below an apartment building in Berlin...
Grawitz's wife and kids were having dinner. Mommy asked, "So Elsa, what did you learn in class today?"
"Donkey," she answered.
"And you?" she asked her son.
"Junkie," he replied. From the sky in a distance, a laser was being charged.
"When will Papa come home?" asked the boy.
"Ernst..." The mother said. "He's not your real father."
Arrrrgggh! screamed the laser as it shot through the window and blew them to smithereens.
Chuikov's closet...
At the headquarters Gendo did his pyramid of doom whilst contemplating their current issues.
"What bloody day," Gendo seethed. "We've got a mole loose here in this headquarters. I've got a loose cannon deputy and his macho manbro short-circuiting procedure, an ill-defined threat coming from some little rice-paddy hole called Hinamizawa, two agents missing, and top it all off is our best agent losing his shit in there and pissing me off in the radio." He sighedi. "I've had a really hard day."
His codec beeped. He looked at it and noticed it was Yutaka's frequency. "Send in, Keiichi."
"Sir, they haven't found the mole yet in the infirmary," Keiici began. "They're moving on to the outer ring of platforms to hopefully pick up the mole while he transmits data."
"Good, keep me posted," he answered. "If those two meatheads do something stupid or even in cahoots with the mole, I wanna know about it."
"Quite clear, sir. Over and out." Keiichi hung up. That left Gendo alone as he watched surveillance footage streamed directly to his office.
"I have all the time in the world." Now he started thinking of several situations concerning his two meathead underlings, Darling, Haruhi's powers, the crisis in Hinamizawa.
Then suddenly a message. "Sir, I found them entering the office of Vasily Chuikov, our main supply and logistics officer."
"Is that a break?" he asked.
"I'm following them now, sir," Darling squawked. He watched darling enter and activated the camera leading into the Russian's room. What he saw next surprised him
"Sir! I've seen him with his cronies but Shepherd and Yutaka are nowhere in sight- What the-! Chuikov! Unhand me this instant! Let go of me or I'll report you to Gendo!" His voice sounded incredibly gay. "Don't you dare shove me there! No! No! NO! AAAHHHH!"
Gendo blinked his eyes twice. What... The... Fuck...
Later, Chuikov was enjoying looking at porno photos. Of what they are I'll leave it to you.
"Sexy..." he breathed. Onto the next picture. "Badger, badger..." He took another. "Kinky shit..."
A knock on the door brought the revelry to an end. "We haven't finished fapping!" cried Chuikov in complaint.
A Russian soldier entered. "Deputy of Director of Intelligence Gendo Ikari wants to see you, sir," he announced.
"What does he want?" he demanded.
"He wants to know what happened to DDO Shepherd and his adjutant Yutaka, as well as his secretary Keiichi Darling."
After a few seconds of thought, he nodded. "Let him in. We could use the lulz." The Russian trooper responded by clicking his heels and pivoting back. Meanwhile, Chuikov got his uniformed fapmates some medal so they look like war heroes rather than glorified janitors whereas Matvey Blanter had, Chuikov took drastic measures by grabbing him and taking taking into the closet.
Before Blanter can even protest, Chuikov said, "Nothing you're not used to, Narnia homosexual." Thus he was shoved inside.
They got ready just in time for Gendo to stride in. Chuikov saluted and they sat down. "What brings you here tonight, Deputy Director?"
"I saw you shove my secretary into the closet during your fap session," Gendo began slowly. "I presume also General Shepherd and Yutaka. Care to explain why?"
"I like shoving people into closets," Chuikov replied. "It's an addiction, really."
"Yes, I understand," Gendo replied, still cool. "It's why we made you chief of logistics. But I need them out now."
"Why?" Chuikov asked, still not wanting to let them go.
"Because we have an ongoing investigation concerning a security problem," the bastard replied. "Now release all three now!"
Chuikov looked at with a dull glare. "I'm afraid I can't let you do that."
Gendo raised an eyebrow. "Really? Oh yeah~. Your hoarding fetish. Well then." He snapped his fingers and a squad of security men in SWAT gear entered. "These gentlemen with can convince you otherwise." He adjusted his glasses. "Now, release them or I'll have you arrested."
Inside Narnia...
"Now this is an unexpected turn of events," Gendo deadpanned, miffed at being inside a closet. "Chuikov stuffed me and my heavily-armed security team inside his closet." Unfortunately for us, we cannot see them inside this magical place. We can only hear their voices.
"Broke no sweat too," noted Shepherd. "This place is much more horrible than a snake rut."
"Way more horrible," corrected Yutaka. "Darling seems to be happy."
"What makes you say that?" Darling snapped. "Why should I be happy being in here."
"'Cause we're in a closet: your most favorite place in the world," Yutaka answered. A chorus of laughter burst forth from everyone.
"ARGH!" cried Darling in anger. "I've had enough of you making fun of me for the way I carried myself."
"What are you gonna do, Darling?" taunted Yutaka. "Are you gonna slap me with your feminine hands?"
"Laugh it up all you want, Yutaka because when we get out of here, I'll make you very miserable."
"If we get out," corrected Shepherd. "Seems this place is really Narnia."
"Yeah, with all the cold and the snow." Gendo blew a breath.
"Or the Land Beyond the Wall." Yutaka stomped his feet.
"We need to get out of here!" cried Darling. "I'm not dressed for the cold."
"Hey, are those..." It was Blanter's voice. It seemed shaky.
"My security..." said Gendo. "They look like they were..."
"Someone assraped them to death," Shepherd stated the obvious.
"But who?" asked Darling.
"Hey, boys, it's time take your temperature," came Gauron's smoky voice.
-Sean Paul - Temperature plays-
"ARRGGGHHH!" screamed all five as the prospect of Gauron unleashing his weapon of ass destruction loomed over them.
"Run for it!" screamed Darling. And chaos ensued.
"Who's ready for a Cleveland Steam roller!?" asked an excited and hardened Gauron.
A/N: Next chapter is gonna full of action and excitement.
