This story is for entertainment purposes only and is not intended for sale. It may be freely distributed providing that no alterations to the story are made.
The characters and incidents portrayed and the names in this story used herein are fictitious and any similarity to the name, character, or history of any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental and unintentional (girlish laugh).
All animals were harmed in the making of this story. But they got over it.
The story below is a third sequel to a story written to my computer science buddies in 2002. Unlike CS Wars 1 and 2, this was written with a lot more pre-planning. Since it was made in the summer between classes, I hadn't any new material to work with, so the content is a bit more universal. Still, it is filled with inside jokes, computer stuff, and references to our college software engineering program. You should be able to understand most of it though. Apologies to everyone and everything I ripped off. It's a homage. Please don't sue.
CS WARS is brought to you by McWick's! Now home of the Wicky Meal for the kids with a free toy! (Okay, they're all golf balls, but they're different colors... okay, they're not).
(curtain rises on a stage in the middle of the village)
JULIA: Hi, I'm Julia. You might remember me from such stories as CS Wars 1: Final CS Fantasy: The Coder Within and CS Wars 2: Attack of the Admins. Nate, Cleo, and Aerlyn are all here. We're coming to you today in a talk show format to address some of the questions you guys have had. Now, everybody, say hello to the star of CS Wars – Nick!
NICK: Hi everybody!
EVERYBODY: Hi, Mr. Nick.
NICK: What you see before you is the Question Dispenser 2.0. It randomizes all the questions we get and spits one out-
JULIA: It's a hat.
NICK: Yes, it is a hat. But you give it a fancy name and a version number and people'll be on it like Star Wars fans on a Snaggletooth with the blue sidearm. Now let's activate the Question Disp- uh, hat. Let's pick a question out. (Nick takes a piece of paper out of the hat) This question comes to us from Lydia in Ohio. Dear Nick: Why are you so dashingly handsome with god-given sex appeal and all the girls want a piece of you? I mean, it's ridiculous how one man could be such a stud, who's smart, handsome, clever, and a dynamite personality to boot and still not be considered more than a natural man. How do you do it? Well, Lydia, I can't say for certain why I hold the animal magnetism I do, but it takes a lot of work to get to be the manly specimen you see before. I eat healthy, and sleep 8-10 hours per night. But not only that, but I manage to fit in at least 6 hours of Half-Life each day to perfect my cunning and manly physique. I hold a lot of stock in my musky victor mature-like scent that all the girls seem to go wild for. Wouldn't you agree, Julia?
JULIA: (Julia gives him a dirty look) ... I'm picking the next question.
(Nick looks down forlornly)
(Julia picks a note out of the hat and reads it. Then she throws it away. She picks another question out, looks at it, and throws it away. She picks another, throws it out, another, another, another).
JULIA: All these questions are about you!?
(Nick gives a sheepish grin)
JULIA: Could we get the real question hat out here please?
(Cleo comes out and hands her the real hat while Nick cannot force himself to look at Julia's glowering gaze)
JULIA: All right, this is a question for Nate from Edward from Ohio. Nate: What kind of flowers do you like?
NATE: Ask again later.
(Julia picks up Nate, shakes him, sets him back down)
NATE: Answer hazy, try again.
(She picks up Nate again, shakes him, sets him back down)
NATE: All signs point to yes.
JULIA: Well, I hope that answers your question, Edward.
NICK: Is he still on Magic 8-Ball mode? I thought I fixed that.
NATE: Not very likely.
(Julia switches off '8-ball mode' and picks up another question)
JULIA: From Peoria, Ohio-
NICK: Why are all of these from Ohio?
NATE: Oh, I only Christmas-tipped the mail carrier from Ohio this year. Sorry.
JULIA: From Andy: How can I keep my hair so silky and smooth like Cleo does?
CLEO: Ooh, a question for me! Well, this brings up the age old debate of shampoo vs. conditioner. Let's examine the arguments.
(Clip from shampoo vs. conditioner debates is played)
SHAMPOO: Shampoo is better! I go on first and clean the hair!
CONDITIONER: Conditioner is better! I leave the hair silky and smooth!
SHAMPOO: Oh, really, fool?
(Fight breaks out)
(Back to Cleo)
CLEO: So to answer your question.... I don't know.
JULIA: Marie from Ohio asks How could Moorus be generated from a stub?
NICK: That's a good question, Marie. As a matter of fact, we have the stub that Moorus the Terrible was generated from right here. Let's bring him out.
(The stub walks out on stage. Audience boos)
STUB: Shut up, you don' know me! Y'all don' know me! Shuddup, y'all don' know me!
(Cleo holds a microphone for an audience member)
AUDIENCE MEMBER: Yeah, I got a question for that stub up there. Y'all got some serious issues if y'all think you can get away with creating CS professors like that. Y'all need to learn yo' stub ass some responsibilities.
(Audience hoots and hollers while stub rotates and gestures in a 'bring it on' manner)
NICK: Ahem, this is not Jenny Jones, please.
(Audience quiets down)
NICK: Now, stub, perhaps you'd like to tell us how you generated Moorus.
STUB: Aite, aite, check this out, check this out, I was a-walking down the street minding my own goddamn business when out of nowhere I get this craving for baloney. Now since I am a stub, I can't actually go down to the store and pick up some because that's not good programming. So I have to generate me a proxy. So I do that, because I really got a jones for that luncheon meat. Mmmmm... luncheon... So I send the proxy over to the store with a hash table of things to get. Along the way he meets a nice lady who's carrying a transsexual monkey. But this monkey seems a little different. He's got these shifty eyes, like this (does the shifty eyes thing people do to tell they're evil). Well, he gets to the baloney and all of a sudden, the monkey jumps on the proxy and starts attacking my proxy! My poor poor proxy... (he sniffles) So in the effort to get away, the whole schlemiel accidentally falls into the store's vat of mutagen.
JULIA: The store's vat of what?
STUB: I'll do the copy. The mutagen does some crazy genetic juju and out comes Moorus.
NICK: So Moorus is a transsexual monkey genetically spliced with baloney.
JULIA: No wonder he's obsessed with those things.
NICK: Well, that certainly answers a lot of questions and brings up a lot more. But we shouldn't dwell on the past so much. Moorus is long gone, dead, deceased, he's not coming back.
(...or is he?)
NICK: No, he's not coming back. He fell into liquid hot mag-ma. He's gone. It is okay to shut down Moorus now. Control, alt, delete.
JULIA: Okay, okay, we get it. But that means we have to find a new bad guy to defeat. Now we're going to be holding a contest for the next evil character. Cleo, let's meet our villainettes!
(Wall rotates like The Dating Game)
ANNOUNCER: Well, Wink, villainette number zero hails from Toronto, Canada where-
NICK: Don't you start with number one?
ANNOUNCER: Nope, I think I'm better than everyone else because I know computers so I start counting from zero to show I'm smarter than everybody! As I was saying, villainette number zero hails from Toronto, Canada where he spent years exposing himself to gamma rays in order to make himself a genius! He's your classic mad scientist, but don't let that fool you because he says he's a sucker for Meg Ryan movies! Say hello to Dr. Smartypants!
ANNOUNCER: Villainette number one is from Los Angeles! He says he's a real go-getter and is always looking to have fun! His turn-ons include, well, all of yours, Nick, because he's your evil twin clone! Everyone say hello to Rick!
(Audience cheers while Rick munches a cookie)
ANNOUNCER: And finally, villainette number two likes power, he has a lot of it, and he'd like to get some more! The only one who can stop him is you, Nick, because you hold the last key to controlling the world! Everyone, say hello to Count Dookie!
(Nick adjusts his cards)
NICK: All right, villainette number zero. If you were a tree, what kind of tree would you be?
DR. SMARTYPANTS: I would be a genius tree. Genius trees have a superior intellect and use long words like ultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis to prove their superior intellect to the other trees.
NICK: ...okaaaaaaay. Villainette number one, same question.
RICK: (munching cookie) I believe I would be a birch tree.
NICK: Really? That's what I would have said!
RICK: Really? No way!
NICK: Wow, you really are my evil twin. Okay, villainette number two?
COUNT DOOKIE: I would be a strong tall oak tree who can see his land and subjects for miles and miles so that I could rain my terror upon them.
NICK: I'm sorry, but your answers must be in the form of a question.
COUNT DOOKIE: But I-
NICK: Villainette number zero, if I was a class and you were an interface, what methods would you have to have for me to implement you.
NATE: Ooh, that sounds dirty.
DR. SMARTYPANTS: My methods are genius and require long names like isReallyReallyReallyReallySmart() and takeOverCity(City c). And the constructor will have 18 different parameters, bwa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.
NICK: ...Riiiiiiight. Villainette number one, return from this method: isHandsomeDevil(Me m).
RICK (munches cookie): Ummm... true.
NICK: Wow, that's exactly what I would have said!
RICK: That is so cool!
NICK: I know! Okay, villainette number two. Are you a good witch or a bad witch?
COUNT DOOKIE: Uh.... aren't these questions supposed to establish our superiority as world class villains in-
NICK: (makes buzzer sound) I'm sorry, the correct answer is 'Why I'm not a witch at all. I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas'.
COUNT DOOKIE: Now, wait a-
ANNOUNCER: Wow, what a tough decision you have. Now it's time to choose, Nick.
NICK: But I only got to ask them two questions!
ANNOUNCER: Oh, bitch, bitch, bitch... So what's it going to be, Nick? Villainette number zero? Villainette number one? Or villainette number two?
AUDIENCE: Number two! One! Zero! Pick number two! Number One! Zero! Zero! One! Zero! Two! Number One! Pick zero! Two, number two!
(Nick struggles with the answer)
NICK: Okay, okay, um, I pick, um, uh.... I pick....
NICK: The hotline! Quick, switch us to narrative mode.
(Nick, Julia, et al run off stage quickly, leaving the three there staring stupidly at the camera and looking at each other)
DR. SMARTYPANTS: So, is he going to pick one of us or... what?
RICK: Nuts, I got all cloned and stuff for nothing.
COUNT DOOKIE: Well, it's no bother. I have my assistant here. I can pretend she's my antagonist. Come out here, Doris.
RICK: Assistant? That's ridiculous. My cookie could do more antagonizing than her.
COUNT DOOKIE: She does all my cooking, cleaning, she defrags my hard drive every month, and remembers to back up my files.
ASSISTANT: I do it all for the Dookie.
RICK: The what?
ASSISTANT: The Dookie.
RICK: The what?
ASSISTANT: The Dookie. So you can take that cookie and stick it up your-
Hey, hey, this is family reading here. We got to get this show on the road.
NOW ENTERING NARRATIVE MODE
PLEASE FASTEN SEAT BELTS
SECURE ALL BAGGAGE AND SMALL CHILDREN
PLEASE TURN OFF CELL PHONES AND ELECTRONIC DEVICES
NO USE OF MACS DURING NARRATIVE MODE
IN CASE OF EMERGENCY, RUN SCREAMING AND PANIC IN AN ORDERLY FASHION
THANK YOU AND ENJOY NARRATIVE MODE
Nick, Julia, Nate, and Cleo ran up to the telecommunication device in the Town Hall of the village. Nate charged up the tracer to look where the call was coming from.
"It's not coming from anywhere in the country." He pushed some buttons on the caller ID. "In fact, it's not coming from the planet!"
"Aliens!?" Julia exclaimed.
"I don't believe it," Nick said. "We are about to be the first people on planet Earth (besides the government, southern rednecks, and conspiracy theorists) to have contact with an intelligent life form outside of revealed space. We are about to communicate with an extraneous species who holds knowledge far beyond that of mere humans. No more will we be floating on this lonely blue planet. We have found others. Finally, the questions of life, the universe, and everything will be answered." Nick picked up the receiver. "We, the people of earth, greet you wholeheartedly, and with open arms. Please impart to us your vast enlightenment."
"Dude, where's my car?"
"Dude, where's my car?"
"Dude, where's my car?"
Nick turned to the others and shrugged. Julia urged him on. "What? You don't know the next line?" She took the mike. "Where's your car, dude?"
"Greetings, fellow hobzoids. I am Bunchy, the alien. I bring you love."
"It's bringing love! Kill it!" replied Aerlyn.
"No! No, stop that. Ignore her."
Bunchy was one of those goopy aliens who had eyes on his antennae and a green slimy body and two stubby legs. "How you doin'?" it responded.
Nick said, "We are earthlings. We come in peace. I mean, we go in peace. I mean, we live here in peace. I mean, aw, I was always terrible at talking on the phone."
Julia, obviously more skilled at, well, most everything than Nick, took control of the microphone. "What he means to say is 'welcome to Earth'!"
"What brings you to our planet?"
"I come here to impart unto you the plot line for this edition. On our planet, we employ an exchange program in order to learn about other cultures. I'd like to make such an offer to you."
"You want to exchange one of your aliens for one of our humans?"
"In order to bridge the gap between both worlds. And have peace and so on and so on."
"Sounds good. But who should we choose?"
"Oooh, pick me! Pick me! Over here!" Nick exclaimed.
"It should be someone intelligent," Julia said.
"Right here! Me! Me! Call on me!"
"And adaptable," Nate said.
"Please! Let me do it! Please! Me! Me, over here!"
"And have good people skills," Cleo said.
"Come on! Me! Me! Me! Pick me! Come on, pick me!"
"And brave enough to withstand an unknown planet."
"Pick me! Right here! I can do it! Pick me!"
"Is Captain Kirk available?" Aerlyn said.
"No, he's on call."
"Picard is better anyway." Cleo said.
"Enough!" Julia yelled. "Let's let Nick do it."
"Oh, how did you know?"
"Splendid!" Bunchy exclaimed, "Let me see the hobzoid you call Nick."
Nick stepped in front of the video camera.
"Holy fleurking shazbot! Uh, I mean, you'll do fine."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Uh, nothing, nothing at all."
Nick raised an eyebrow.
"Are you going to beam down in flashy colors?"
"Or take a really cool shuttlecraft?"
"Or send down a probe with a body encapsulated?"
Knock-knock-knock. Julia got up and answered the door. Bunchy was standing there, holding a bouquet of yellow daisies. She looked back to the video screen and saw Bunchy was still there.
"We've mastered faster than light travel," he said, "So I've actually arrived before I left!"
"These are for you," Bunchy at the door said. "Our intelligence reports that you are the kindest, most care-giving form of life on this planet."
"Oh, thank you." Julia said as she took the flowers.
"No, not you. You," Bunchy said and pointed behind her.
"The Mr. Coffee?"
"That's Mrs. Coffee, if you don't mind," he began to approach the pot. "Oh, coffee-maker, what would I do without you. So many lonely nights staying up late waiting for the bootleg copy of Spider-Man to download. I've been searching for someone like you for what seems like etern- eww, rust stains."
"Well, I've got to be going now," said the Bunchy on the video screen.
"Wait," Nick said, "If you don't leave, does that mean you'd cease to exist here or the space-time continuum would collapse from the paradox?""Oh, what's really gonna bake your noodle later on... is this handy-dandy new Noodle Baker™ guaranteed to bake all your noodles in 30 minutes or less now available from NoodleCo! Gotta go!' and he flicked the screen off.
Nick blinked in disbelief.
And so Bunchy made out all the forms and bureaucratic nonsense in order for making the student exchange program, including, but not limited to a United Federal Exchange Form in triplicate, two forms of legal ID, one in-state, the subheading and associated text of the appropriate non-negligible traveler's fee and authorization, a 4077-2 statement from both parties' lawyer or attorney, an immortal soul, a first born child, and a leprechaun for the systems administrators to process. Once all that was done, Nick was too old to fly, so Bunchy quick put him in a rejuvenation machine and set him back up.
Whilst all this was going on, Julia said to Bunchy, "So, I guess we're going to have to make your room up."
"Oh, I'm not going to be staying with you. I'm only the administrator."
"But I thought this was an exchange program."
"It is. You're getting my brother, Breechy. Come on in, Breechy!"
Breechy entered the room. He looked exactly like his brother only he had thick black eyebrows and kept shifting his eyes back and forth very craftily.
Bunchy happily introduced the two. "This is Breechy, Julia. He's a graduate of Really Really Really Really Really Really Really Really Advanced Computer Science.... really."
"Wow," Julia said hesitantly. "I'll sure be looking forward to working with you."
"Uh-huh, yeah, right," he said quickly, "I heard you have a TX-999 super computer here. 'Zat true?"
"Sure, it's one of the-"
"Can I see it?"
"In due time. Now, your duties here mostly consist of saving the world regularly, by defeating the forces of those who hate technology and those who want to use it for evil. Nate will brief you on all the types of evil villains and henchman you'll probably be facing."
"Will there be punch & pie?"
"I was told there would be punch & pie."
"We'll get to that later."
Julia looked at her watch and saw it was almost time for Nick to blast off. She approached the door to his room and knocked softly. "Nick?" she said as she peeked in. "Are you in-"
"I'M NOT WATCHING THE POWERPUFF GIRLS!" he yelled out as he scrambled for the remote.
"I... didn't say-"
"I DON'T FIND THEM WITTY AND ADORABLE, OR FUN FOR ALL AGES! WHY ARE YOU PUSHING THE ISSUE?"
"Uh, it's almost time for you to go."
"Oh... okay then."
So everybody went out to the rocket and saw Nick off. Julia kissed Nick goodbye. Nate gave him a game boy advance for the long trip. Aerlyn checked the luggage to make sure there was plenty of Mountain Dew in there, and added a few cans to top off the cooler. Cleo hugged Nick and put a sign on his back that said 'PROBE ME'. It was a jovial send-off and Nick was excited to go.
Nick stepped off the platform and breathed in the fresh air from the planet Megeggyschnidt. It was typical Megeggyschnidt weather – partly sunny with a chance of rain. They had landed inside the dome shaped space port named the AstroDome. Squidgey little aliens like Bunchy walked back and forth like a typical space port, only this one had a Cinnabuns.
"Wow!" Nick exclaimed. "Look at all the technology around here."
"Yep. We calculated there about 90 of everything on this planet is computerized. Even the trees have tech support. Here, try a chocolate microchip cookie."
Nick took a bite. "Mmmmm, crunchy."
"And over here we have the airport computer. This regulates all traffic flow in and out of the spaceport using a system not unlike a Royal Credit Union. Therefore it takes about 12 hours for a spaceship to be serviced by a teller."
Nick looked at the computer screen. "Spaceship serviced at nan. Spaceship serviced at nan. Spaceship serviced at nan. Doesn't nan mean 'not a number'."
"No, nan is the name of the port."
"Oh. Is there a way I can see the time of departures?"
"Sure, push the pound key. Then 3. Then 4, 0, 6. Then when you get to the menu press 3 four times and 4 three times, unless you want it in Gregorian time, in which case press six sixteen times. Oh, no wait. That's 16 six times."
"...........okay, got it."
Times of departure began flashing on the screen.
"Wow, this is so cool. It even uses dionetic technology to-"
"SEGEMENTATION FAULT""SEGEMENTATION FAULT"
Sirens began to ring out in the space station. Nick looked around nervously. "What happened?"
Two armed security guards quickly squidgeyed their way up to Nick and grabbed hold of his arms. "Hey, hey, get your paws off me, you damn dirty... uh, whatever-you-ares."
An alien in a smart business suit and one of those mustaches like the bad guy in Dudley Do-Right (you know, the guy who tied up the girl to the railroad tracks) walked up to Nick.
"Do you know what you've done? You've just rerouted all the spaceships to Amsterdam. Do you know what's in Amsterdam? Well, I don't. But they're all going to find out, and they'll have to come and tell me. In the meantime, you'll find you're in a lot of bad trouble. Oh, a lot of bad trouble, my friend."
"I didn't touch anything. It did that by itself. It's probably a virus. If you let me have a look at it, I can probably debug-"
"NO! You've already done enough damage for one day. Come back tomorrow and you can do more. Meanwhile, take him to jail."
"Jail! No, please, I'm too young to die. I'm too nice to die. I'm too ME to die!"
"I said jail, not the guillotine."
"Oh... well, I suppose that's better."
Back on planet Earth, everybody is watching TV. Julia sat on the floor leaning against the couch. Cleo had Nate curled up on her lap like a cat in stand by. Aerlyn was taping the show and taking down statistics. Let's go the action on the screen.
"And Jared lands a right hook, a left, another right, a left to the body. The cranky guy from Subway is just taking it like a bitch."
"He seems so tough and abrasive in his commercials."
"But he's starting to come back. The attitude guy just landed an uppercut. And Jared has tripped over his pants. He has tripped over the size 48 pants he used to wear when he was 400 pounds. And he is down. He is down and the referee is counting. It doesn't look like he's going to be able to get up in time as he's tangled in the left leg."
"And Jared is out! The attitude guy from the Subway commercials has claimed victory! What an upset. And now he's grabbing a foot-long turkey sub and is using it to mercilessly beat Jared. I haven't seen a beating like that since Rodney King. It reminds me of Ronald McDonald versus the Taco Bell dog. Well, as the referees are cleaning this up, we'll take a break. Then we'll see the ritual slaughter of Carrot Top, highlights from last week's ritual slaughter of David Arquette, and more, after this."
"Little bastard just won't die," Aerlyn said.
Suddenly the TV blinked out. Everybody shouted and yelled. "Dammit, they were gonna show the new 'Dude, you're getting a Dell' commercial."
Breechy popped up behind the TV.
"Breechy! We were watching that!" Julia said.
"Sorry, I need this cathode ray tube. And this screen projection engine. And this cord. And this wire and plug. And this frame. And this TV."
Breechy walked off with the TV in tow (which was quite a feat because it was a 48" high definition and these aliens have no arms) and took it back somewhere in his room. The heroes looked at each other. "Something's screwy going on here."
"Yeah, I know," Cleo said. "He keeps taking our stuff. And doing the eye thing."
"What eye thing?" Nate asked.
"Like this," she said as she did the shifty eyes.
"No, no, it's like this," Julia corrected.
"Oh, like this."
"Oh, like this."
"Yeah, yeah, that's good. Uh, what were we talking about?"
"Oh, yeah. I'm going to go follow him and see what he's up to," Julia said.
Julia tip-toed out of the room and crept up to Breechy's room. "Hello," she said as she peeked through the crack. "Avon calling?" It was dark, all the lights were off. The only light came from the hallway out of the crack in the door that made it all creepy and suspenseful and stuff.
There was a worktable with blueprints and notes strewn everywhere. "Wow, that's some good strewing," Julia said to herself. On the blueprints were plans for circuit boards and computer chippy things that do all sorts of stuff. But this was like no computer Julia had ever seen before. It was undoubtedly the worst computer she had ever seen. But it was arranged so cute and cuddly that no user could resist buying it. More diabolical than the Mac.
"AAAAH!!" Breechy screamed.
"AAAAH!!" Julia screamed and whipped around.
"Did you see me playing with my dolls?"
"Did you see my plans for the world's most mind-numbing computer?"
"Yes- uh, I mean, no. Damn."
Breechy stepped toward her with a menacing look on his face. "What do you think? As a computer expert I'd think you'd appreciate such a fine work as this."
"Fine work? This is the worst computer I've ever seen. If it could chew gum, I'd be impressed."
"Oh, now that's mean. I've been working with Haphazard, inc. for months to try and get a market for it."
"You may have never heard of them, but they make the computers of the pros."
"Pros? I wouldn't feed this computer to my dog!"
"Surely you must appreciate the fine craftsmanship of the design."
"The space bar is in the back of the machine!"
"You'd be amazed at how fast you get used to it."
"The monitor only lasts forty minutes before it needs a 'cool down'!"
"We only say that to keep the company covered. In reality, you should be able to expect it to last four or five hours. Besides, if people really cared about power and performance, why would they keep buying VW Bugs?"
"You're a monster."
"No, I'm an alien. And you're going to be a very very quiet girl from now on," he said as he lunged at her.