Furniture Warriors PART TWENTY-SEVEN: Change Your Evil Wai!s or The Episode with No Subtitle (Formerly) A Spoof Chase Production NOW An ImproFanfic Production (http://www.improfanfic.com) Created by Stefan "Twoflower" Gagne This episode by Mervyn the Wonder Slug ************************ (All characters copyright Nihana-san, obviously. If I ever even considered claiming that these were my own characters I'd probably be thrown into a small cell where I'd be forced to eat my own chronically unfinished original works to live.) WHAT HATH TRANSPIRED: -Ikea got metaphysical with himself, travelling within his own mind to confront his emotions and logic and a bunch of other anthropomorphisized concepts, all of whom looked exactly like Ikea. An alliance was forged and Ikea woke up just in time to witness a Comedic Moment, which caused him to (*GASP*) laugh. Ikea has now (allegedly) become a normal person, which is (probably) a good thing, but which rather inconveniently throws a 15-pound monkey wrench into the previous 25 chapters of characterization. He wandered off, laughing at the punchline of every joke he's ever heard. -Yarslov was so concerned for Ikea that he, apparently, abruptly ceased charging Leonardo with a pool cue and started brooding. He then fell face-first into a pie conveniently if inexplicably left on the floor for just such an occasion. -Shelly maimed neither Yarslov nor Leonardo for reasons unknown and probably unknowable. -Leonardo, Hugh, and the unconcious Marlo offered no resistance to any of the above. -Harry the Handsome Executive was still scooting around on his butt and making squeaky noises. -Rebecca, Fifi, Yoshi, Tony, and Dr. Shockwave were still looking for the Flaming Guacamole of Doom. -Queen Radience and the Sort Of Dark Queen Irradience continued to eat ice cream. -Somewhere, continuity shook its head in consternation. ************************ Queen Radience smiled in gentle motherly approval as her eeeeeevil counterpart calmly (and messily) devoured a pint of Mint Chocolate Chip. "Wai," Dark Queen Lumi-cha--Irradience sighed, finishing the last spoonful. Queen Radience wiped her mouth with a damp cloth she carried for just such an occasion. She was a very well-prepared woman, despite having recently been reborn from a flaming avacado. "Sleepy," said Lumi happily, spoon still hanging from her lips. "Oh, but don't you want to find your brother?" "Ikea-oniichan. . . He stole my ice cream," Lumi pouted. Ah. So *that* was it. Queen Radience thought quickly. "Ah, no," she said. "It may have *looked* that way, but actually he was coming to bring you ice cream when some bad men stopped him." She was aware, as the more-or-less representative of Goodness, that lying was technically wrong, but hey, you take what life offers. "Really?" said the ever-less-Dark Queen Irradience. "That was *mean*. Lumi-chan doesn't like it when people are mean to Ikea-oniichan. Especially if they steal her ice cream." Queen Radience smiled her most charming smile and took Lumi by the hand. "Come along," she said. "Let's go look for Ikea. And I really must find Dr. Shockwave. . ." ************************ Ikea, Yarslov, Shelly, Joanie, and Harry the Demented Executive wandered off, or butt-scooted off in Harry's case, leaving Hugh, Leonardo, and the unconcious Marlo near the gaping hole in the floor. They eyed each other warily. Well, except for Marlo. "I do not think you are a very nice man," Leonardo said, after several minutes of eyeing. "You rank pretty high on the Scuzz Meter yourself," Hugh countered. The eyeing continued until Marlo groaned and began to move almost imperceptably, whereupon both of them shot him a sharp look. "What's down there, anyway?" asked Leonardo, nodding at the hole. "Oh, not much," said Hugh, flicking some char off his shoulder. "Just a bewildering array of horrifying deathtraps and an unstable device which could explode in a fatal fashion at any moment." They looked at each other, then at Marlo. Hugh grinned in an unmistakably evil way. When Marlo awoke he was upside down and looking up Hugh's nostrils. This is not, all things considered, a particularly pleasnt way to wake up. "PUT THE MARLO DOWN, JABRONIE!" he shouted, in his usual winning manner. "Oh, gladly," said Hugh, and let go. The thump was a very long time coming, and it was followed by all sorts of strange sounds. *FWOOSH* "Aaargh!" *Thunk* "Aiyeee!" *THWAP* "Yaaah!" "Be careful what you ask for," Hugh said, and walked off whistling idly to himself, intent on finding Fifi so he could finish the sentence he started six chapters ago. Leonardo cautiously peered over the edge of the hole. He winced as a pained warble wafted out of it. ************************ Yoshi, Tony, Fifi, Rebecca, and Dr. Shockwave were searching for the Flaming Guacamole of Doom. Theoretically, at any rate, because although they were in concept looking for the Flaming Guacamole of Doom, to the unenlightened it might look a lot like they were wandering aimlessly and occasionally looking under stuff. "This is hopeless," Fifi pouted, after four hours. "How can we find this silly Flaming Guacamole of Doom if we don't even know what it *is*?" Dr. Shockwave paused, blinking. "You mean I haven't explained it?" "No," chorused the rest of them. "Oh, well the Flaming Guacamole of Doom is a mystical condiment imbued with strange regenerative and stabilizing powers. It can be produced by pulping a Flaming Avacado of Doom, such as the one growing in my lab in the Kingdom of Radience." "Your lab?" asked Fifi, in tones of menace. Sadly, Dr. Shockwave failed to notice. "Yes," he continued. "And once we have the Flaming Guacamole of Doom we can stabilize the Furniture Vortex and ensure that the proper people can access FurnitureSpace. Then it will be a simple matter to exterminate--ah, neutralize, the Emperor, Dark Queen Irradiance, and of course the nefarious Ikea." "'Nefarious Ikea'?" asked Rebecca, also in tones of menace. "Well of course. He allied himself with the Emperor during Marlo's reign, and thus is clearly a threat to Queen Radience. He'll have to go, I'm afraid." Rebecca put a hand on her hip. "Are you sure you're a good guy?" she asked, as Yoshi and Tony made frantic ixnay gestures behind his back. "What!?" Dr. Shockwave demanded, eyebrows twitching like Ikea on acid. "You keep talking about exterminating and neutralizing and stuff like that. That seems kind of villanous if you ask me." Yoshi and Tony hid their eyes. "HOW DARE YOU!" cried Dr. Shockwave, before realizing that titanic rages were not really appropriate for a non-evil, non-mad scientist such as himself. "What I mean is, I am laboring for the greater good, and therefore must be pragmatic in all things to avoid jeopardizing our cause." That sounded good, right? Yoshi peeked through his gloves. "Getting back to the lab," Fifi said icily. "You mean we could just have gone over there and found this Flaming Produce of Whatever, and you've had us wandering the halls for *four hours*?" She was drawing dangerously close, and by happy coincidence her pillows were suddenly available to her. It was dawning on Dr. Shockwave that perhaps today was going to be a bad day. "Oops?" he said. "I, uh, um, I forgot?" "Do not waste the Fifi's time, peon!" She rearranged her lingerie indignantly. "'The Fifi'?" Rebecca asked. She was promptly ignored. "Open the portal to the Dimension of Light immediately!" Fifi commanded, clocking Dr. Shockwave with a pillow. He flew into the wall with a faint but nevertheless ominous crunch. "The Fifi grows weary," she declaimed, looming authoratatively. "Let us finish." Everyone was very impressed, and for a moment Rebecca even thought wistfully back to the time Fifi had cudgeled a would-be mugger into unconciousness to save her. Not that she'd needed saving, of course. And Fifi had been, rather importantly, non-evil and male at the time. Really, she should have suspected something, what with the lingerie and wanting to be called Fifi and all. Dr. Shockwave stood up unsteadily, examining the various pieces of technology on his person. "Unfortunately," he said, "you seem to have damaged my portable portal generator." Fifi shrank by about six feet. "Heh heh," she said. By unhappy coincidence, her pillows chose that moment to go away. "FiiiiiFIIIIII. . ." said Rebecca, fists clenching spastically. "However," said Dr. Shockwave, holding up a hasty finger, "I believe I can fix it. I will need some parts though. Yoshi and Tony, see if you can find a transistor radio. Fifi and Rebecca, you look for a television tube." "Why--" said Tony. "Do not question the ways of science! If McGuyver can make a nuclear reactor out of two carrot sticks, a lemon, and a spool of thread, I can fix a portal generator with a transistor radio and a television tube! Get moving, time is short!" Fifi glanced nervously at Rebecca, who still appeared to be set on "purée." Figuring that discretion was the better part of valor, she sidled up to Yoshi and said, "Why don't we go together instead, no?" Without waiting for an answer, she seized his arm and sprinted down the hallway, Yoshi flailing behind her in, believe it or not, a coolly bishounen manner. Rebecca blinked in consternation. "So, I guess we're working together," said Tony. "Ha ha." "Grrr," said Rebecca, and stalked off in the opposite direction. Henchmen, thought Dr. Shockwave, shaking his head. Or should that be lackeys? Assistants. Yes, assistants. ************************ "Golly, it's a beautiful day," said Ikea, inhaling deeply and, most alarmingly, smiling. They were currently walking in the gardens. "I almost feel inclined to run naked through a field full of spring flowers. Hello, Ms. Buttercup," he said, leaning down to address a flower. "Hello, Mr. Garden Slug. Hello, Mr. Compost Heap." Yarslov, Shelly and Joanie stared at him. Harry just sort of stared near him. "What?" he said. "Dude, you're like, scaring us and stuff." Ikea straightened up and smoothed his clothing. "You are right, my friend," he said, frowning slightly. "I have allowed my exuberance to get the better of me. I must find my sister and give her ice cream." His brow furrowed infinitessimally. "Yarslov," he said, "when did you learn to use a pool cue?" Yarslov smacked his forehead. "Dude, I totally forgot!" He turned to Shelly, taking her gently by the shoulders. She backhanded him multiple times, sending him to the ground in a comical clould of dust. "Pervert!" she screamed, as Joanie sighed. Yaslov stood up and tried again, without the physical contact this time. "I dunno how to, like, break this to you or whatever," he started, and then paused as if listening to something. "But . . . your dad was sliding down a bannister when all the furniture went away so now he's in this totally unfroody coma somewhere but somehow he sorta got wired into my mind or something which is how come I've been using his weapons and stuff." There was a brief pause to allow for mental punctuation. "WHAT!?!" said Shelly, grabbing Yarslov by the shirt and dragging him to eye level. "My father's in a coma? Where is he? Tell me, you Swedish meatball!" she yelled, shaking him savagely. "I don't know!" said Yarlsov, in between bouts of whiplash. "Could you stop shaking me? I don't want to ralph on you or anything." Shelly released him. He fell on the floor, clutching his head. 'Ha,' said Mick, inside his mind. 'I knew she still cared about her ol' Dad.' 'Froody,' said dream-Yarslov. 'Must . . . fight urge to . . . hurl.' Outside Yarlsov's mind, Ikea helped him to his feet, as Shelly seized Joanie and dragged her off in search of Mick. Harry had apparently scooted off somewhere on an adventure of his own when no one was looking. "Dude," said Yarslov. "Should we let them go off all furnitureless and stuff?" Ikea allowed himself another minimal frown. "Probably not," he said. "You ought to go with them, lest anything untoward should happen." Yarslov ran that sentence though his mind, picking out the words he didn't understand. "But Ikea-dude, I can't just leave you alone." "Don't worry, my friend," said Ikea, patting his Radience-approved chair. "I'm much better now." ************************ As it turns out, looking for a small transistor radio is surprisingly similar to looking for Flaming Guacamole of Doom. Fifi flopped down on the floor, tired, cranky, and wishing Hugh were there, although she'd never admit it. "This is hopeless," she said. "I can't believe no one in this whole palace has a simple transistor radio." Yoshi shrugged. Fifi was starting to wish she'd picked Tony as a search partner. Sure, he lacked Yoshi's fashion sense and his taste in leather goods, and that false beard was really rather disturbing, but he *had* to be a better conversationalist. "So, Yoshi," she said. Yoshi shrugged. "Where next?" Yoshi shrugged. "My teeth are made of porcelain and my shoes are full of varnish." Yoshi shrugged. Fifi put on her best pouty face, the one she usually reserved for seductions and insolent- servant-maimings. "Shrug again and I will feed you to the poodles," she said, although she said it poutingly. Yoshi almost shrugged, but fortunately Fifi's words made it to his brain in time. He'd been puzzling over something for the past few minutes. "Do transistor radios count as furniture?" he mused. "If my sound equipment is affected, I wonder if they would have vanished, too?" Fifi paused. That would explain why none seemed to be around. Or it could be that everyone had said "screw it" and bought walkmans and CD players instead. Come to think of it, Fifi couldn't remember the last time she'd seen one even before the furniture went away. "Oh well," she said, with the cheerfullness of the truly resigned, "we're probably all doomed anyway. Such a shame, too, I had the perfect little outfit for you to wear." Yoshi paled considerably. Perhaps doom wasn't so bad. ************************ Being bludgeoned over the head with a halogen bulb seldom does much to improve a person's spirits, and the Emperor was certainly no exception. He sat up groggily, gingerly patting his head for bruises, scrapes, or huge jagged pieces of glass. He was cranky, he had a headache, and most importantly, he had *missed the end of the Red Dward marathon*. Including those two episodes he always missed whenever they came on. Oh, he was really ticked now. First person to come through that door was going to feel his wrath full mightily, yea forsooth and such. Enter Dr. Pfischer, life's little punching bag. He poked his head warily through the door. "Your Majesty?" he asked. "Is Red Dwarf over? Because I thought maybe if we urk." AH, DR. PFISCHER, said the Emperor, clamping his hand around the doctor's neck. PERFECT TIMING. I WAS JUST LOOKING FOR SOMEONE TO MAIM. "Ack ugk ig feh," suggested Dr. Pfischer. YES? "Flg hbpt mep!" REALLY? "Grg hkkt mno hrop blg." OH, ALL RIGHT, said the Emperor, against his better judgement. TELL ME MORE. He released the doctor, who gasped thankfully for air. "Ah, as I was saying, I have come up with a new plan." IT HAD BETTER BE GOOD. "Yes, well, it appers that the Furniture Vortex has recently become unstable. This means that the Furniture Warriors will be able to access their furniture, albeit randomly and for an uncertain period of time." DR. PFISCHER, the Emperor said warningly, SO FAR THIS DOES NOT SOUND LIKE A GOOD THING. "Yes, but you see, your Majesty, I have invented . . . THIS." Dr. Pfischer held up a small, black device about the size and shape of a small drinks coaster. WHICH IS? "A Furniture Locking Establishment Machine, or FLEM. When attached to furniture it functions as a localized reverse vortex. Eventually we, too, will have the chance to retrieve our furniture, and when it arrives we can use this device to prevent it from leaving again. In other words, we alone will have full-time, permanent access to our furniture, whereas others will be forced to rely on the whims of chance." Dead silence. Then the Emperor grinned, quite exceptionally evilly. YOU KNOW, DR. PFISCHER, JUST OCCASIONALLY YOU COME UP WITH SOMETHING THAT VALIDATES YOUR CONTINUED EXISTANCE. "Thank you, your Majesty. In fact, if we could force the Queen to summon appropriate furniture from the Kingdom of Radience, we wouldn't even have to wait for--" Dr. Pfischer took in the room, with its shattered bulbs and lack of Queens. "Where's the Queen?" he said. AH. OBSERVANT AS ALWAYS, DR. PFISCHER. ************************ Rebecca and Tony were having much better luck than Fifi and Yoshi. For one thing, Rebecca had no desire to dress Tony in something frilly and mostly translucent. For another, they actually found something. They were deep in a part of the palace Rebecca had never visited before. Rebecca had pressed on, despite Tony's suggestions of caution. He was now following her at a discrete distance, which means far enough away that physical disfiguration is unlikely or at least difficult. Rebecca stalked into a large room that would probably have been very ornate, if there were any furnishings in it. There was, however, a television. Rebecca wasted no time in ripping the tube out of it, immagining at the time that it was Fifi's liver. Tony watched all of this with a growing sense of unease. "I am not here," his stance seemed to say, "and I have no connection with any televisual destruction that may have taken place in this room." He did have to carry the tube, though. ************************ Life had become rather complicated for Miss Oeru. She had felt a great wave of serenity wash over her when she descovered that all of her lovely office equipment had reappeared. She had felt just as great a wave of despondency when it all went away again. No one had seen Marlo in quite a while, and she was beginning to wonder if backing him had been such a wise idea. Oh, for the comfort of a fax machine or a simple Rolodex in her hands. . . She moved stealthily through the halls of the Emperor's palace, which suddenly seemed a lot more huge an looming than she recalled. If rumors were true that Marlo had been effectively disabled, she was willing to bet she wouldn't be winning any popularity contests around here. So imagine her surprise when she rounded a corner and saw Hugh, Fifi L'Enfer, Ikea, Joanie, Yoshi, Yarslov, Tony, Leonardo DiMario, Shelly, Mick, Rebecca, Dr. Pfischer, Dr. Shockwave, Shrimp, Sofia, Evelyn Smith of the Purple Sunshine Commune, Master Chronos Tickingclock of England, Fojarusu Kuristazu, Piers Juan, Mistress Aquamarine of Knossos, Jan, Ken, Pon, Livewire, Searer, Harry the Handsome Executive, Bob McKenzie, Wilton Baguelle, Bud Meister, Yokakin, and most importantly the Emperor and the Dark Queen, all waiting for her. They seemed angry. At her. And they were all hefting furniture in a significantly unpleasant way. Out of curiousity, she reached for her trusty business card shuriken, but of course they weren't there. Then she looked down and realized she was naked. This was, oddly enough, a relief to her. It meant she was dreaming. She woke up. The room was devoid of murderous furniture warriors, but she knew when it was time to get the hell out of Dodge. Defection was an art, and she was its Rembrandt. Stealing stealthily through the halls, she was singularly dismayed to hear, right around the corner, an unhappy voice saying, ". . . AND NOW I CAN'T EVEN WATCH ALLY McBEAL!" The Emperor and Dr. Pfischer rounded the corner. "Eee," she said. MY, MY, said the Emperor. NEW JOB NOT WORKING OUT SO WELL, MISS OERU? ************************ Ikea stood in the garden, pondering. He pondered where to begin his search for his dearly beloved if sadly misguided sister. He did not know. So he did what he always did when faced with unanswerable questions: he meditated. In the center of the garden he unfolded his chair, sat upon it, assumed the Papasan Position, closed his eyes, and pondered the deeper meaning of furniture. Yea, and the purity of his furniture-laden thoughts didst stretch across the landscape, and didst come even unto the personage of Queen Radience. And she didst take her cutely evil twin to him, and attempted to reconcile them. It didst not get off to a great start. "Ikea-oniichan!" cried Dark Queen Lumi-chan, posing. "You have stolen our ice cream!" she accused, the true Queen's careful re-un-brainwashing having temporarily slipped her tiny mind. "For this crime you must be punished in dreadful, not nice ways! Wai!" "If you'll recall," the Queen began, and whispered in Lumi-chan's ear. She smoothly slipped a gallon drum of her ultimate weapon, Blueberry Mango Pistachio Butterscotch Cherry Fudge Pecan Mint Swirl Delight, to Ikea behind her back, hoping he'd know what to do with it. "But. . . the nice men showed Lumi-chan a picture of bad bad Ikea-oniichan eating all the ice cream. . ." "I do not know what you saw, Lumi-chan," said Ikea, "but I am glad to see you again. I have brought you a gift." He presented her with the ice cream. Dark Queen Lumi-chan's eyes widened by about 247%. "WAAAAIIIII!" she said, tearing into it. "I am glad you enjoy it," said Ikea. A miniscule sweatdrop appeared on the back of his head. "I do, however, wish you would use a spoon." ************************ Deep in the bowels of the palace, Marlo was being pummeled by a giant boxing glove on a stick. It was actually kind of restful, after what he'd been through before, but at the moment he was worried about that strange, shuddering, glowing Not A Vortex; Actually An Ice Cream Maker over in the corner. It had begun to glow even more brightly, and was now emitting a steady, pulsating whine with bizzare harmonics. The Furniture Vortex had entered the next stage of destabilization. ************************ WILL LUMI RETURN? WILL HUGH FINISH HIS SENTENCE? WILL YOSHI END UP IN LINGERIE? WILL ANYONE EVER DO ANYTHING WITH THAT ETHAN ALLEN GUY? For anwers to all these questions and fewer, stay tuned for. . . FURNITURE WARRIORS PART XXVII: LEAPING LOVESEATS! HONOR! ROMANCE! THRILLS! UNSTABLE VORTEXES? VORTICES? WHATEVER! AND, YES, FURNITURE! . . . brought to you by W4, the Mad Author! ************************ Author's notes: Well, the last author did a whole chapter of character development, so I tried to do two chapters worth of plot advancement. Mwahahahahaha! ^_^ "Change your evil wai!s" came from someone on the MB, in reference to Lillith, but I can't remember who and the message has long sice expired. It may have been Lawrence Chu. Whoever you were, thank you. I may have missed a few jobbers. But does anyone truly care? Thanks to W4 for pre/proofreading. Finally, a note on my take on Ikea: Ikea IS calm and honor and duty, with a dash of uptightness. He's, well, WOODEN. Change that too much and you change HIM. That's who he IS. That's why the eyebrow- twitching was FUNNY. I'm tempted to go into a lengthy analysis of how the eyebrow- twitch is the summation of Ikea's character, but I won't. When the last chapter ended, I felt like Ikea was too dangerously close to being the Average Joe, which is a totally distinct species from the Average Ikea. Having him react just like anyone else would be a Very Bad Thing, for it would mark the end of Ikea and the beginning of Miscellaneous Spiky-Hair Dude. I hope I worked out an acceptable compromise between Ikea Classic, Menopausal Mood Swing Riot of the Varnish Ikea, and Average Joe Ikea. I propose the lable "Ikea Lite." :) knoke@rhodes.edu http://www.students.rhodes.edu/~knoke/indie/indie.html Read. Enjoy. Sign up, or the Umlaut brothers will pay you a visit. ************************ Miss Oeru tried to fold herself into as small a space as possible as the Emperor reached through newly reopened passages to the relm of furniture and sought the Sofa of Power and the Ottoman of Doom. The look on his face when they emerged, bright orange and composed entirely of lightweight foam rubber, was absolutely priceless. WHAT. . .? Miss Oeru took the oportunity to run like hell.