Ice Cream Versus Jerry the Incontinent Cowboy

I earnestly apologize for the title. It is almost completely unrelated to the content of this story. I use the word "almost" loosely, just because it's possible that someone who looks back ten thousand years to the roots of the title's words might find that one or more words used in this story have the same root as ice cream,or perhaps that of an incontinent cowboy.

This story is really about a group of Roman warriors who were frozen in a block of ice somehow or another. The story then goes on to explain how alien technology resurrected them and transported them to modern-day Kansas, where they have an adventure of some sort. However, I being the omnipotent author of this story, have decided to skip the whole part about the freezing and the unfreezing and to begin the story with the adventures in Kansas, because I already ruined the whole first part of the story with my summary. So... here goes.

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"I'm bored," said Argkillicus X.

"Me too," replied Piociflax the Great. "I haven't killed anything in at least an hour."

"Boys, no need to fret any longer," said Groggon. "I brought a little something for just this type of occasion."

He then stood up, smiling, and looked shoppers inside the corner store, in which the Roman trio happened to be, strolled by, trying not to stare.

"Uhh, aren't you going to give us something?" asked Argkillicus.

"What do you mean?" Groggon enquired.

"Well, you said you brought something for this type of occasion," Argkillicus explained.

"Oh, yes!" exclaimed Groggon, reaching into his loincloth and pulling out a puppy. A woman's shriek was heard, and Piociflax lobbed off the poor canine's head gleefully. However, if the right information was put together, most would be surprised to note that the woman's shriek was actually a squeal of delight.

The reason for this was that this woman had been watching the three for the past few minutes. Or, rather, staring at the three shirtless Romans and their rippling muscles. And when Groggon reached into his loincloth for the puppy, she squealed in delight, mistaking it for who knows what.

Unfortunately, at that exact moment, an officer of the law was purchasing doughnuts and mistook this squeal for a scream, as any rational personage would do. When he turned around and noticed Groggon wearing a loincloth, he quickly arrested him for public indecency. Piociflax and Argkillicus watched as their friend was taken away.

"Aww, man, I wanted to kill the puppy," Argkillicus mumbled.

"That was a strange experience," commented Piociflax.

"Yarr, that it be," a passing pirate said. The duo looked at the pirate awkwardly. Argkillicus then stabbed him through the chest.

"Ahh, that was refreshing," he sighed. Another awkward silence followed.

"Why was Groggon wearing a loincloth, anyway?" asked Piociflax.

"Who knows," Argkillicus replied as he drew and quartered several customers.

"So... what do we do now?"

"Hmm... well, we could rescue Groggon."

An annoyed look played on Piociflax's face. "That sounds awfully stereotypical to me."

"Well, we don't have to do it immediately," Argkillicus said.

"Alright."

The pair then walked out the door, but not before setting the establishment ablaze. They left the burning building behind, walking down a dirt road. Having no directional sense at all, they soon became lost.

They first realized this when they looked around and found that grass was the only thing to be seen for miles around. Except for cows. But wait! They weren't cows at all!

"Moo," said Cow Number One, his cowbell dingling.

"Moo," the second cow responded.

Argkillicus stared at the cows suspiciously. "There's something strange about these cows," he said, "but I can't quite put my finger on it..."

"Maybe it has to do with the fact that these are two bearded men who are mooing and ringing cowbells!" Piociflax exclaimed sarcastically.

"Man, you guys are no fun at all," Cow Number One said as he and his companion sauntered off.

All of the sudden, a UFO swooped down out of the sky directly above the Romans. The cows turned around in astonishment, and, admittedly, jealousy, as the two warriors were lifted by a tractor beam into the spacecraft.

Upon entering the craft, the two were greeted by an angry-looking alien.

"You have failed to reach your goals," said the alien, "and that makes me quite mad."

"What goals?" asked Piociflax.

"Didn't you read the contract that you signed before we freed you from that block of ice?" the alien asked incredulously.

"Uhh... we were frozen in ice," Argkillicus replied. "How could we have signed a contract?"

The alien held up the contract and looked at it mysteriously. "Then... who signed this?"

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I will not tell you who it was who signed the contract, dear readers. I will only tell you one thing: if you had happened to be in the earth's core at that precise moment, you would have heard what was undoubtedly maniacal laughter.