n00b: SUBURBIAN COMMANDO
In which n00b plays the role of a typical suburbian person, who happens to get mixed up in something or another after something and somewhat happens.

Chapter 1

In which there is a chain reaction

Life has an odd way of smacking one in the face, like this one time I was out getting tea with the prophet Muhammad when- never mind I'm losing focus on what I started with. It was a tranquil day in Chestoak Commons, the kids were playing outside, people were watching TV inside, and thieves and rapists were beaten by cops. It was so tranquil that you could leave the front door unlocked, which was an exceptionally bad idea when there were hobos about.

"Homeless dude, get the beheomish out of my house," said n00b, a currently annoyed home owner, "You’re ruining my feng-sushi."
With that, n00b started shoving the homeless man to the front door. During the shoving the hobo started shouting erratically.

"No, no, you don't understand! The fuzz is after me, I'm indebt to the mob, a gang, and some drug dealers, and I really need a drink right now. Can a brutah spare a dime?" n00b had shoved the hobo out the door by the time the hobo's speech was over and n00b was prepared to have a final speech. Kinda like all the cool people in movies do.

"Listen, Homeless dude, I have no idea what you're talking about. Take a quick look and what do you see? Kids are playing outside, I was watching TV inside, and thieves and rapists are being beaten by cops. This is a pastel-colored land called Suburbia. If you're looking for the city, walk 30 miles in the direction of death and decay. Please and thanks babadino, and good day to you sir." and with that, n00b slammed the door into the face of the homeless man.

At this point, a rather odd set of events happened. The door had hit the homeless man who was flung into a kid riding a tricycle. The tricycle moved with the force of the hobo into a running lawnmower. The lawnmower reacted by spinning out of control wildly, turning the tricycle, kid, and hobo into shaved little bits. In its spinning the lawnmower had made its way to a garage, where some teens were having a jam session. The lawnmower rammed into the band’s setup, which in turn let loose a lawnmower that wasn't turned on. The shut down lawnmower went down a driveway, and into the street. At this point a truck containing highly explosive and flammable substances was driving down said street. The truck driver noticed the lawnmower a tad too late, and in a desperate attempt to swerve out of the way, collided with the lawnmower. For some reason or other this caused an explosion. Debris of the highly flammable substance originally in the truck was launched through the window of a house, where it landed on a stove. The stove was attempting to heat up ground beef, and when struck by the debris, started a fire inside the house. The house was that of a Botanist's, and burned down rather quickly. The fire was able to spread to a few more nearby houses, and other fire-breakouts had occurred from the truck's debris.

n00b was watching the A-team when a knock at the door interrupted his viewing. He walked to the door and was prepared to tell a homeless man off. However when he opened the door, he was shocked to see a policeman, and a bunch of burning people pointing fingers at his general direction.

"Listen officer, despite what these people tell you, I'm not the head of the 'Burning People Cult'." was the best thing n00b could say, which apparently was the worst thing he could say since he was promptly arrested with the charge of mass arson.

wow

This story gets my approval.

haha, cool stuff..

Amusing

Hmmm, somebody's been studying Spike Milligan, add some Monty Python and you've got a book deal!

Spike who?

EDIT- Seriously, Spike Who? I've never heard of Spike Milligan.

O.o

Dood!

He was liek the second greatest british comedian of all time! Can't you even google him? *mutters about stupid Americian culture*

Originally Posted by Doubble Dutch

O.o

Dood!

He was liek the second greatest british comedian of all time! Can't you even google him? *mutters about stupid Americian culture*

I looked him up on Wikipedia after I posted, but the article geared more towards his life than his comedy, and at that moment, I didn't have much time to read through the whole thing.

n00b, I highly suggest searching out and buying a copy of Puckoon by Spike Milligan. It's not that long, but it's a very good book.

Also, Spike Milligan was the guy who invented the Pink Panther, and was one of the characters of the Goon Show, a comedy show aired on BBC that used subliminal messaging to tell the British POWs about war events.

I'm currently in the process of writing Chapter two, because I no longer have annoying writing projects from School to make me hate writing.
Since Chapter 2 is meant to set the stage for the main plot, I cannot promise it to be as amusing as the first chapter. I am trying, though.

Looking at the first chapter I do think this will continue pretty good.

Hahaha! Finally did it. This "one chapter every few months" deal sounds perfect, don't you guys think?

Chapter 2
In which there is alot of exposition

n00b had never ridden in a cop car before. It was an experience he hoped never to have happen again in the near future. When arrested, he was tossed into the car, and then promptly was beaten with nightsticks into unconsciousness.

n00b awoke sometime later with a massive headache and no idea where he was. As he got himself off the damp floor, n00b looked in front of
him. There wasn't much there aside from a large wall. He stared at the wall. A quick thought process went through his head.

"You know, prisons tend to not have such nice crimsons red walls. Maybe I wasn't arrested after all!" As he thought about the wondrous prospect of being let off the hook, a voice from behind him shattered his thought train.

"Are you going to stare at the wall all day, or do you wish to get started?"

n00b quickly turned to see a very large podium, before his eyes managed to reach it's top, he thought "Drat, so much for going to Taco Bell." At the top of the podium were tall cloaked figures. There was a certain figure in the center that was a bit taller than the rest and had glowing red eyes. n00b assumed this was the speaker.

The rest of the room was very different from the crimson wall, it was a dank light blue, with it's only light source being a dinky light bulb dangling from the ceiling. The rest of the walls had designs of beavers carved into them for reasons now unknown.

n00b was right, the middle figure was the speaker.
"n00b, do you know what this place is?" inquired the Speaker.

n00b actually didn't know what the place was, so he took a guess. "This wouldn't be where the 'Burning People Cult' meets is it?" It was a terrible guess.

"What kind of bloody idiot are you?" replied the Speaker, "This is the high court of Suburbia."

"Suburbia? That's an actual country?"

"Yes."

n00b was dumbfounded, his whole life had been apparently a lie. n00b, like every other suburbian, assumed that he lived in the same country as the city dwellers and country bumpkins.

The Speaker continued speaking, "It's a long story with gaping plot holes, I'd rather not get into it. Listen n00b, you're the first criminal we've had in a long time, and since what you did was merely an accident, you're not being arrested."

n00b's eyes brightened and he asked, "You mean I'm off the hook?"

The Speaker laughed and then said "No, but that was the best joke I've heard in years. You're going to become our personal "gopher". n00b, Suburbia isn't the clean place you've grown to love, oh no, it's been horrendously tainted by the current generation of teenagers. Our fair country currently has
the largest drug operation in the world, and we have so many policies on teenagers and drugs, we really can't do a thing about it."

"... So why am I going to be a gopher?" asked n00b.

The Speaker answered with, "Because when we get a report of a drug lord, you will "gopher" them, and bring them back to us. You regain your freedom when the country is back to it's original peaceful state." The Speaker then tossed a manila folder down to n00b. "Inside you'll find the vital statistics on an up-an-comer. He should be fairly easy to take down."

n00b opened up the folder, inside was a small sheet of loose-leaf paper that read simply:

Name: Robin Thiessen

Nick: Xayo, DarkXayo

Age:10

Gender: Male

"Erm, are you sure this is all I have to work with?" asked n00b, "no personality quirks, pictures, or housing information?"

"We're as stumped as you are. That's all the information we could find on him. A little birdie did tell us he lives in the 'Green Willow Oaks' district." the Speaker replied in a cautious manner.

"District?"

"... Neighborhood. Never got used to that term."

With that a trap door opened below n00b, who fell in and was promptly beaten with nightsticks.

I just had to use the recently posted character Dr. Conelius. His catchphrase, quick temper, and hidden revolver pretty much set themselves up for scenarios.

Chapter 3

In which n00b does alot of thinking about whether someone is gay or not.

n00b awoke from what was probably a coma in a different police car. He knew it was different because it was red all over, like some one just finished a murderous killing spree or something. In the front were the cops who arrested him earlier. At his side was some science teacher type he presumed to be gay. Of course to n00b (who was rather ignorant of alternate lifestyles), anyone in a blue lab coat, green sweater, and brown pants was gay even if the person happened to be Ron Jeremy. This person was not Ron Jeremy however.

"Ah, I've seen you've awaken Nub." said the presumably homosexual science teacher type person next to him.

"n00b." the convict turned mob hunter corrected.

"Right, whatever, I'm Conelius, and I'm going to be giving you the tech you shall be using during this mission." continued the other rider. At this point n00b decided this person was gay judging by the name Conelius, which he was able to think up some quick euphemisms with the word "cone". He tuned out Conelius and continued to think up other euphemisms for the hell of it. His current acquaintance continued talking through this.

"... and thats how this thing is supposed to work. Did you get any of that?" concluded Conelius in a somewhat soothing tone.

"I'm sorry, wasn't paying attention, I was coming up with ways to call you gay." said n00b who continued, "Wait, what thing?"

Conelius then became suddenly filled with rage for no particular reason. He pulled out a revolver from inside his chest from what n00b could tell (and also prompted the thought "Dang he hid that well, he's probably not all that gay.") and pointed the gun at n00b's head.

"PAY ATTENTION, PLEASE" shouted Conelius which prompted a "Sure, just get that gun out of my face before you potentially screw this mission deal thing up for all of us" from n00b. Conelius began explaining a weed whacker he had fashioned into some quasi musket, with a laser blaster attached to it. "Although I wouldn't use the laser blaster at all, it drains the power of the thing too quickly and you won't be able to recharge it once you leave this car."

"Wait, if I can't use this laser thing why did you even install it in the first place?"

"Because it's cool. Now these," said Conelius as he handed n00b a bag, "these are crackers. Eat them if you ever get hungry. You think you can hold on to both of those things pretty well?"

"Yeah," began n00b, "but why are you asking?"

"Because we can't stop the car. Hope you like being flown at high velocities and fast speeds." and with that Conelius pushed n00b out of the cop car.

While in mid-air, n00b wondered how he never noticed the door opening, or his seatbelt unbuckling. Come to think of it, was his seat belt even buckled? It must have been, since it's supposed to be against the law otherwise. "Maybe you're off the hook if you're in a cop car to begin with." concluded n00b who then noticed, "Oh, I'm about to hit the ground. Prepare self for entry into a world of pain." With that, n00b hit the cement face first.

YaY and w00t and <3!

*fluffles n00b*

Looking good

n00b seems to get hurt a lot =p

In the span of two years, this story has moved approx. 2 hours. Note to self: Write more.

Chapter 4
In which n00b attempts to get information

The next Minute of n00b’s currently unfortunate life was a black abyss filled with nothing but pain, suffering, a twinge of bird noises, and then some more pain for good measure. n00b awoke from this torturous state by the distinct feeling that he was being poked at by a rather pointy object multiple times.

“Ok, that’s enough poistering; I’m not dead or anything.” n00b said to his unknown assailant, face still planted firmly on the ground. n00b was poked once more and decided to at the very least see who was poking him. As n00b got himself off the ground, he heard an object drop and hit the pavement. When he did finally get completely upright again (which took a while due to some rather nasty scratches) n00b took a quick survey of the area in front of his face. There was a two-story house in front of the currently unshowered lagomorph which seemed to be made of bricks. n00b couldn’t really tell for sure, however, since there was a hugeass garden covering the entire front lawn and the majority of the house. “Wow, that’s a hugeass garden” thought n00b in a literary faux-paux. He also noticed out of the corner of his eye a rather pointy stick that reminded our usually in pain protagonist of some discomfort he had endured a mere moments ago. This spurred a quick look around, which quite unfortunately did not reveal the poker. “Curses,” thought n00b in a rather dramatic, yet simplistic, fashion, “now I’ll never learn who poked me.”

n00b began to make his way towards the door of the garden infested house. During this time he shifted his thought train to rather generic and awfully clichéd happy thoughts such as kittens. He attributed this to the serene garden that was otherwise slowly taking over a rather good house. As n00b rang the doorbell he was contemplating rainbows, clouds, and the symbiotic relationship of the two. A few seconds later, the door opened revealing the angriest resident n00b had ever met. The attire of this rabbit vaguely reminded n00b of someone particularly famous, but he couldn’t quite put his finger as to who it was. n00b attributed this to the fact that he was awfully distracted by the rabbit’s vibrant red fur.

“Would you happen to be Ro-“ started n00b.
“No. I’m Stormie, Whaddyah want?” said the homeowner now identified as Stormie as he cut off n00b.
“Ah,” n00b began as he took notice of the oddly colored wristbands on Stormie and then continued, “well in the that case would you happen to know of a Robin Theissand? Perhaps you alternatively call him Xayo, or even more alternatively Dark Xayo.”
“Yeah, I know ‘im, and nobody calls hin Xayo or Darth whatever.” replied Stormie in a slightly annoyed tone, he then added “Why do you need to know?”

This question caught n00b off guard, and he quickly thought on his feet for an answer. During this mental scramble, n00b took notice of Stormie’s yellow bandanna before uttering “Debt Collector.” Completed unconvinced, Stormie retorted “With a weed whacker?”
“Erm… eh. Side job.” countered n00b rather proud of his answer.
“For a ten year old?” inquired Stormie still seeing through n00b’s pitiful attempt at improvising.
“Um- well… cripes.” muttered n00b who was at a loss for words. Luckily Stormie noticed n00b’s paper bag and decided he no longer wished to hear n00b’s answer.

“’Ey now, hold on a second. I know what you’re looking for from Rob. I swear to th’ big man upstairs, if I catch you with any so-called ‘purchased goods’, I’ll- "
“Rambo.”
“What? Whaddyah mean Rambo?”
“I couldn’t quite place my finger on it, but then I saw the knife and now its all laser to me. Yeah man, you look like Rambo. Anybody ever tells you that?” n00b rambled out as he unknowingly saved himself from hearing what could have been a gruesome account.
“Uh… no. Not really, in fact I mostly get Jazz Ja-Fugghedaboudit. Look, just stay away from Robin y’hear me?” Stormie angrily stated as he shut the door.

“How can you look like a music genre?” n00b wondered aloud in a bit of confusion and awe. That was when he noticed some awfully loud rustling coming from the nearby bushes.