Talk Elections

OK, this started as my attempt at a "midseason replacement" within the Update thread, when Bushie was traveling to Kenya.  But the Update thread is locked, and at Bacon King's suggestion, I'm putting this in its own standalone thread.

Please note that while this is focused on two "characters" from Update (Bushie's dog and a fictional enemy of Bushie who tried to throw rocks at him), there are a number of appearances from other Atlas characters throughout the story (especially going forward, beyond the four instalments I've already written).  But I hope that everyone takes this all in good fun, and not as a personal attack against them.  If you're offended by any of this, let me know.  But this is Atlas Forum fan fiction, so to speak, so I hope no one gets upset over this.

In any case, I'll create separate posts for possible later copying and pasting of the four existing episodes.  Too tedious to do it now, when Update is locked, because of all the quote boxes I'd have to remake.  If/when Update is unlocked, I can more properly copy and paste them.

EDIT: It's been unlocked, so I can repost them:

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie

Episode 1: "Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh My!" (https://uselectionatlas.org/FORUM/index.php?topic=174552.msg3770039#msg3770039)

[Blondie sits in front of a campfire inside his dog house.  A hobo steps through the dog house doorway, and joins him at the fire.]

Hobo: I hope you don't mind if I take shelter in here?

Blondie: I'm just a dog.  Who am I to complain?

Hobo: Fair enough.

Blondie: But if you really want shelter, you should knock on the door of the adjacent mobile home.  You know, a mobile home for humans.  This is a dog house, genius.

Hobo: The Bushie family?  I can't stand them.  You see, the kid in that family, BushOklahoma, had abandoned his house, and it turned into a great location for group sex for myself and my associates.  However, we were found out, and the police got involved, and the whole thing was a mess.  BushOK actually moved back here from out of state, and began regular patrols of the property.  I mean, he started driving by the house for a few minutes at least once a week.  How are we supposed to ensure our privacy when he's harassing us like that?  Ever sense then, I've been trying to kill him, or at least maim him, by dropping rocks off of nearby buildings.

Blondie: So, you know the Bushie family as well?  I've actually been adopted by them.  It's a rather unfortunate state of affairs though.  I show up here a few weeks ago, looking for food and shelter.  I figure I was owned by some other family, but I don't know.  I was only a six week old puppy.  What the hell do I know?  Can you remember what happens from one day to the next when you're six weeks old?  Anyway, I show up, figure they'll return me to my owner.  Seems like they make a halfhearted attempt to find my owner.  Next thing I know, I'm being left out here in the heat all day with minimal shelter and very little human companionship.  On top of that, they start calling me J.J. for no good reason.  I'd already learned that my name was Blondie.  You're going to confuse a puppy like that?  So they won't let inside their mobile home, and they only come out briefly each day to throw a ball for me to retrieve.  Sometimes the old man walks me, but it's not much.  It's gotten worse, since BushOK left for his week in Kenya.  Hope he comes back soon, and makes a real effort to find my original owner.

Hobo: I see.  Sounds like we both have reasons to hold a grudge against the Bushie family.

Blondie: Indeed we do.......Can I ask you three more questions?

Hobo: Sure, no problem.  I've got all the time in the world.

Blondie: OK, well, I'm not sure I know how to put this.  But how do you explain what's happening to you right now: a talking dog, a campfire inside a dog house which should not logically be large enough to fit a camp fire, a dog, and a human?

Hobo: Oh, yeah.  That.  Well, I'm pretty high right now, so nothing would surprise me.  In any case, if I can't explain it, can you?  What's your explanation for how you can talk, and why the dog house is so big on the inside, like the Tardis or something?

Blondie: Don't know.  I'm just a dog.  How am I supposed to know how the world works?  Anyway, my second question is: What's your name?  I told you mine was Blondie.  How about you?

Hobo: I don't actually know my real name.  I have amnesia.  That is, everything before about 2008 is kind of a fog.  Tried to find out who I was, but I lost the will to keep looking for clues, became destitute, and found release in the orgies I participate in.  Anyway, the only name I know is the one I've taken on for myself, Hog.

Blondie: Well Hog, nice to meet you.

[Blondie puts out his paw to shake, and Hog takes it and greets him.]

Hog: So what's your third question?

Blondie: You asked if you could take shelter in here.  Well, shelter from what, specifically?  Just an "I'm homeless, and I need some place to sleep" kind of shelter, or are you taking refuge from something in particular?

Hog: You mean you don't know?  There's a tornado coming.  Can't you hear the winds?  You're a dog, so I thought you'd have super hearing or something.

Blondie: A tornado?!?

[Blondie starts digging furiously in the dirt, which sprays onto the fire, and puts it out.]

Hog: What are you doing?

Blondie: [Blondie continues to dig as he responds.]  Digging.  If there's a tornado on the way, we have to get to low ground.  There's nowhere around where there's low ground.  So we make some low ground by digging.  I mean, I'm a dog.  It's the only good response I have in a crisis like this.

[Hog peers out the dog house door at the approaching storm.]

Hog: It's too late for that now.

[Moments later, the dog house is swept up by the approaching winds, and launched high into the air.  Blondie and Hog hang onto the house for dear life.

As they're sucked into the vortex, they look out at the debris flying through the air.  They see mobile homes, and what look like human bodies, both dead and alive.

Nearby, they see what looks like Inks riding a bicycle in the air.  It slowly morphs into an image of Inks riding a broomstick and cackling.  It looks remarkably like the 3:08 mark in this clip (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WhQySxqSANU), but with the human characters as male rather than female.

Finally, the dog house, with Blondie and Hog inside, crashes to the ground, and Hog loses consciousness.

An undetermined amount of time later, Hog wakes up to Blondie licking his face.]

Hog: What are you doing?

Blondie: Waking you up.  Sorry for the crude method, but I'm a dog.  It's the only way I know how.

Hog: No sweat.  [Hog stands up and looks around.]  How long was I out?

Blondie: Don't know.  But look!  [He points.]  The dog house is still in relatively good shape.  And the tornado's gone.  Looks like it wasn't as destructive as we thought.  And we haven't even been displaced that far from our original location.  The Bushie family trailer home is right there, just 100 yards or so away.


[Bushie appears behind them.  Blondie and Hog are startled at Bushie's surprise appearance.  But Hog quickly picks up the nearest rock and tosses it at Bushie's head.  The rock miraculously flies right through Bushie's head and he's unharmed.]



TO BE CONTINUED....

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 2: "Not Living Up to My Fatherly Duties" (https://uselectionatlas.org/FORUM/index.php?topic=174552.msg3770585#msg3770585)

[We pick up from last time.  Holographic Bushie stands before Blondie and Hog.]

Hog: What is this?  A hologram from the future?!?  You're just that little @$%^ who took away my favorite place for orgies by patrolling the property.


Blondie: But I can see and hear you too.


Blondie: Please don't call me J.J.


Blondie: Can we move on?


Blondie: NSAbook?


Hog: What?  You're saying that *we're* in the future now too?  Get your story straight.  I thought you were in the future.


Blondie: Don't be ridiculous Bushie.  We haven't gone very far at all.  There's your mobile home just over that way.

[Blondie starts running over to the Bushie family mobile home.  Hog starts to walk briskly in the same direction.]


Hog: What are you talking about?  We'll be there in about two minutes.


[A holographic golf cart appears, and Bushie gets into it, and starts making his way to the Bushie family house.  About five minutes later, Blondie and Hog are standing in front of the Bushie family estate, waiting for holo-Bushie to arrive.  He slowly pulls up in his golf cart, Big Mac in hand.]


Blondie: There's a McDonald's drive through in the middle of your imaging chamber, or wherever it is you are in the future?


[Suddenly, a man emerged from the Bushie family home.]


RickRoll: Bushie, is that you?  Your hair's a bit grayer, and you're even fatter than I remember you, but it is you, isn't it?....But how did you know I was asleep?  I'd been wandering around after that tornado, found that tree over there (points), and fell asleep for a while.  Then I wake up, my beard's really long and I have some gray in my hair, so I find my way into this trailer park and found some rotting food in this home, but also a razor, so I shaved off the beard.  Then I come out here, and see you and your friend here with a talking dog?  What the smurf are you doing here?  It's kind of like that time in college when--


Blondie: Wait a minute, how can he see you?  I thought Hog was the only adult human who could see you?  Are you telling us the whole truth?


[Bushie stops to take a bite out of his hamburger.]


Blondie: Fredward?


Blondie: Kill me now.

[Hog and RickRoll made their way to the workshop in the Bushie home, found the implants for their watches that holo-Bushie had told them about, and plugged themselves in.  It all started flooding their minds: The Supreme Court ruling, as Bushie had explained, the fact that Oklahoman men were forced to gay marry, starting in 2013.

And then......the fertility treatments.  While the Christian men of Oklahoma deplored the fact that they had to marry each other, they knew they had to at least obey the Lord's commandment to be fruitful and multiply.  There still had to be subsequent generations of Oklahomans.  So they embraced a new, experimental fertility treatment that allowed men to become pregnant, to produce the offspring of two men.  The male/male married couples of Oklahoma began producing these offspring, but only within the participating fertility clinics (all fully paid for for those who had Ameriplan Insurance).

The first pregnant man was Frederick, who produced a child with his husband Edward.  They named their son Fredward.  Subsequently, other married couples began producing children who took on hybrid names of their parents, and on it went for some time.....

Hog and RickRoll snapped out of it, and immediately sang a song about what they had learned.  It went just like this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PNhXYmJ0G8c ]


TO BE CONTINUED....

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 3: "I Really Don't Think I Need Mental or Psychological Help" (https://uselectionatlas.org/FORUM/index.php?topic=174552.msg3772101#msg3772101)

[Holo-Bushie is outside the Bushie family mobile home, pretending to throw a stick that Blondie will fetch.  But obviously, he's just a hologram, so he can't throw a stick that Blondie could possibly catch.]


Blondie: I'm not going to play along with your stupid games.  Why don't you try filling me in on all the exposition that the other two are having dumped over their heads right now?


Blondie: What road trip?  And male/male hybrid babies?  And earlier you talked about someone named Fredward?  Does this story have any female characters at all?  And what's with all the exposition?  Isn't this supposed to be about the adventures of Hog and me?


[Blondie growls at Bushie.]


[Bushie, in holographic form, walks through the wall of the mobile home, appearing inside just when Hog and RickRoll finish their Fredward song.]

RickRoll: Same old Bushie.  Walking in on people at inappropriate times.  Do you remember in college, when you walked in on Steve when he was frenching What's-Her-Name, and you thought she was pregnant?


RickRoll: You stayed in Kenya for asylum, so you wouldn't have to move back to Oklahoma to marry a man?


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=czI2hfSas2Y

Hog: What was that?


[We dissolve on a federal court room interior.  Inks.LWC is representing Bushie in this hearing, which is being held to determine whether the federal government should order that Bushie return to Oklahoma from Kenya, where he currently resides, and from which he is appearing by live video feed.]

Inks: Your honor, my client is being asked to appear in the state of Oklahoma for the purpose of being married off to another Oklahoma man.  I ask you, how can such a fate be inflicted on any man, to be forced to be married to my client, one of the most despicable human beings I have ever had the misfortune of looking upon?  Would that not be cruel and unusual punishment?

Judge: That's your argument?  That your client is such an awful person that we cannot force him upon any potential spouse?  I'm afraid that the Supreme Court ruling makes no character exemptions.

Inks: Your honor, I intend to produce numerous character witnesses who will testify to the exceptionally low character of my client.  His transgressions go beyond that of any human being the Supreme Court could have contemplated.

Judge: And yet you've also described numerous psychological ailments that you believe Mr. Bushie suffers from.  You believe that he is not actually responsible for his actions?

Inks: Legally, he bears no responsibility.  That is correct, your honor.  However, I still judge him on a personal level, and am so repulsed by his actions over these last few years, that I can only find satisfaction in berating him constantly for his sins, making him feel as guilty as possible.  Even though, yes, legally, he has no idea what he's doing.

Judge: This is quite an unusual legal defense.  Mr. Bushie, Mr. Inks was assigned to defend you, because you could not afford your own attorney.  However, given the circumstances, are you sure you don't want a replacement?

BushOK: (on video monitor) Not at all, your honour.  I know Inks only says these awful things because he cares.  He wants to get me to change, though I think he's going about it the wrong way.  Can we move on?  I'm done with this topic.

Can we talk about how I called you "Your honour", because they use British spellings here in Kenya, and I'm a Kenyan now?

Judge: Yes, I'm aware of this novel attempt to prove that you've been planning a move to Kenya for some time now by using British spellings in your sworn statement.  I noticed the "honour", "colour", and "behaviour".  I even noticed the questionable placements of "U"s in some cases.  Mr. Bushie, I don't think they spell "orange" "o-u-r-a-n-g-e" in Kenya.

BushOK: Well, I'm trying.  I just want to fit in here in Kenya, and show my Kenyan patriotism.  I want to learn more about the sports here...like football, which you Americans call soccer.  I'm really getting into sports, and will watch the cricket team play for hours on end for several days in a row.  Which I think is the playing time for a single game.

I'm sure President Uhuru Kenyatta, his deputy William Ruto, and everyone else in the government here would be impressed by my deep knowledge of my homeland here.  Just like I'm sure your American President, who, if you didn't know, is of Kenyan ancestry himself, is proud of Kenyan immigrants to America, like Barack Obama Sr.  I'm reading everything I can here about Kenya, on sources like CNN International.  And occasionally going outside to talk to people about life here.

Inks: Your honor, I believe if we demonstrate that my client had been planning to move to Kenya long before this Supreme Court ruling was made, that would argue against his classification as a resident of Oklahoma at the time of the ruling, thus nullifying the applicability of the marriage order to him.  In addition to the contemporaneous written statements made by him on the "Atlas" forum, I believe a desire to flee the country for good is the only logical implication of his horrible treatment of everyone around him within the United States.  He was clearly trying to burn all his bridges in this country before leaving it forever.

BushOK: Inks, I know you're my lawyer, and you've been a very good lawyer.  I support you 100%.  But why do you have to say such hurtful things?

Inks: (his voice rising) Bushie, why did you keep lying to us on Update?  Why didn't you move back to your own house when you left Utah, rather than leech off your parents?  Why didn't you look for a job?  Why didn't you walk the dog, or mow the lawn?  WHY DIDN'T YOU THROW OUT THE ROTTEN FRUIT?  You wanted to take advantage of everyone in the United States before moving on to Kenya, didn't you?

BushOK: Wow, just....wow.  Inks, there is no reason to try to catch me in every little thing I did wrong.  I made mistakes, I know that.  I have no excuse for that.  Seriously, why can't I tell my story without being grilled like this?  I know you're my lawyer, and you care about me, and you're just trying to help me, but this behavior is really uncalled for.

....I mean...I'm sorry, but can the court reporter make a note that in saying "this behavior is really uncalled for", I was pronouncing "behavior" as "behaviour" and "for" as "four"?


TO BE CONTINUED....

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 4: "I Just Put My Father's Birthday Card in the Mail" (https://uselectionatlas.org/FORUM/index.php?topic=174552.msg3776225#msg3776225)

[We begin with a voiceover from holo-Bushie:]


[Cut to: Bushie family home, interior.  Mama Bushie is making dinner, and Papa Bushie stops by the kitchen for a word with her.]

Papa Bushie: Well, I mowed the lawn here, mowed the lawn at Bushie's house, chopped down the oak tree for firewood, installed cable TV, fixed the toilet, rescued the cat from the oak tree before I chopped it down, and....what else was I supposed to do?

Mama Bushie: Walk the dog.

Papa Bushie: Ah yes, J.J.

Mama Bushie: Or as some of like to call him, Blondie.  Of course, we never agreed on the name, just like we never agree on anything.  We're trapped in a loveless marriage, with our son as the only thing holding us together.

Papa Bushie: Let's move on.  I can't walk J.J., because he's missing, remember?

Mama Bushie: Right, missing ever since the tornado.  Oh well.  Hey, you said you cut down the oak tree?  It wasn't the one that that guy's been sleeping under for the last couple of weeks, is it?

Papa Bushie: No, no.  He's still there.  I mowed the lawn just inches from his face, and he didn't move.

Mama Bushie: But he's alive, right?  Should we call the police?  Or an ambulance?  Get him some help?

Papa Bushie: I went through his pockets looking for medical information, and no Ameriplan, so I think he's pretty much doomed anyway.

Hey, that was some performance in court today, wasn't it?  I hope Bushie can beat this thing, even though it means he'll never come back here, and our marriage will fall apart.

I was a little uncomfortable about him lying though.

Mama Bushie: What do you mean?

Papa Bushie: All that stuff about having meant to move to Kenya all along.  They'll see right through that.

Mama Bushie: But he *has* been planning to move to Kenya for a year now.

Papa Bushie: What?

Mama Bushie: Yeah, he wants to move there for good.  He's been talking about it since he got back from his first trip there.  Didn't he ever say anything to you?

Papa Bushie: WHAT?!?  I've been subsidizing his life, offering to support him while he goes through school for CAD, just so he could move away to a foreign country that's dirt poor, and he never told me??

[Papa Bushie then had something of a breakdown, which looked kind of like this (except replace the "Sea monster ate my ice cream" with "My son lied to me about his future plans": http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=79c5JKjAQFg ]

[Holobushie voiceover:]


Papa Bushie: What?!?  He's been making these plans to move to Kenya all this time, and sharing it with strangers, but not me?  He sold me health insurance that he knew to be fraudulent?  And he had sex outside of marriage!!!

[Cut to Papa Bushie standing in front of the press, giving a statement about his son.]

Papa Bushie: I've been defending my son's choices, but I can no longer do so.  I'm not going to support his attempt to block extradition to the US any longer.  I mean, have you read this?

[He holds up a printout from the Update thread, and points to one post in particular.]

Papa Bushie: His cat scratched him and he started crying?  Have you ever heard such a thing?  What a wimp.


[Cut to a montage of clips from TV, starting with a teaser for Anderson Cooper 360.]

Anderson Cooper: Tonight, Bushie continues to fight extradition to the United States.  Is the state of Oklahoma unfairly targeting him because he's a fat?

Also ahead tonight, we want to hear from you.  What is your opinion of Edward Snowden?  FF or HP?

We consider hypothetical electoral matchups: Snowden vs. jmfcst: Discuss with maps

And finally, is Miley Cyrus a virgin?

[Cut to Conan O'Brien monologue.]

Conan O'Brien: This is true: American expatriot Bushie might no longer be able to win a Philip Seymour Hoffman lookalike contest, as Mr. Hoffman has recently shaved his moustache.

Andy Richter: Congrats Phil.

Conan O'Brien: The Winfield legacy lives on.


[Atlas forum exchange from early 2014:]









TO BE CONTINUED....

You know, it's because of people like Bushie that Deuteronomy 21:18–21 is in the Bible.

OK, this one turned out longer than planned because of the long speech.  Will have to break it up into two posts:

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 5: "Understandable and Good Scenarios You Are Throwing Out"

[We pick up inside the Bushie family mobile home.  Hog and RickRoll have just gotten a big helping of exposition, but there's more to go.  Suddenly, Blondie trots in.]


Blondie: Found an empty window and jumped through it.  In any case, are you guys done yet?


RickRoll: What?  You haven't told us jack.  Why are you holding out on us?  It's like that time in college when you wouldn't tell us what you and--


[Holo-Bushie takes another bite of his McDonald's hamburger.]


[Bushie takes another bite of hamburger.]


RickRoll: Whoa.

[RickRoll sits down, as it hits him how much time has passed.  Hog shows less emotion, and is in any case less likely to show emotion in front of Bushie, since he still resents Bushie taking away his orgy location.  Blondie is just a dog, so he isn't as phased either.]


Blondie: Probably, but it probably means less to me than it does to them.  I'm a dog, what does it matter--

RickRoll: Of course we'd take it.


[Buhie taps some buttons on a handheld device, to open up his imaging chamber door, so he can return to his time.  He's about to leave, when he stops for a second with a parting thought.]


[The others react in disbelief.]

Blondie: Sharia?!?


[And with that, holo-Bushie disappeared....for now.]

[Within the hour, RickRoll was at the wheel of the Bushie family mobile home, driving them towards Salt Lake City.]

Hog: Bad news everyone.  Not only does this thing have very little gas left, but we've got virtually no food either.  We barely got started, but we're going to have to stop soon.  There is a TV though.

[Hog flips on the TV, and it's the presidential inauguration.  Mike Naso has just been sworn in as president, and he begins his inaugural address....]

Naso: My fellow Americans:

I love the United States of America. I love her so much that it hurts and makes me angry, frustrated and saddened when I see her in bad shape.

All around the world in human history we've seen attempts at Government and society that could better the lives of people. Sadly, most of these attempts failed. But, for almost 253 years now, the United States of America has remained the sole torch that carries the light of freedom around the world. Many other countries now live under monarchies, dictatorships, and even anarchy. But America remains freedom's last best hope. Where would people look to without the United States? Greece? France? China? It's a scary thought, which is exactly why we need to keep the fundamental principals of the United States alive and well for freedom's preservation.

Today, however, I see a bleak picture for the United States.  Most of the western half of our nation lives under sharia law.  Roaming gangs enforce militant Islam upon unsuspecting citizens like you and me.  In the state of Oklahoma, citizens are free of sharia law, but still forced into homosexual marriages that they would not have freely chosen.  How did we come to find ourselves in this state of affairs?  Who can we blame for this?  Is it the fault of the Millennial Generation?

I am part of the Millennial Generation.  I was born in 1988.  My very first memories of life begin in 1990/1991. I remember my parents enjoyed watching The Cosby Show, Empty Nest, Cheers, Night Court and L.A. Law. By the time I was in grade school, it was Seinfeld, Friends, Frasier and E.R. that seemed to dominate TV in my home. I remember my first trip to the movies after Thanksgiving dinner in 1992 to go see "Home Alone 2: Lost in New York".

()

When I speak of our current challenges and look backwards at "the good old days", are those the days I speak of?  Many presume that I mean the 1980s.  But let us not forget the 1990s.  Some of my favorite childhood films were released in that decade.  We must honor them as we do the great films of any era.

()

I first attended school in the 1990s.  I remember when I was in grade school, if there was a fight between students, the teacher would just let the students sort it out.  Nowadays, they would suspend the students for bullying and give them sensitivity training.  If a student tried to point his finger at another student like a gun, he would probably get arrested.  A letter would be sent to the parents, saying:


Is this America?

When I was in school, a student once said "I think homosexuality is wrong."  Today, that student would be punished severely (assuming they were not doing so in the Islamist-controlled west of the country).  Was that student a homophobe?  Am I a homophobe because I married a woman rather than a man?  Am I a racist because I don't like rap music?  By today's multi-racial, hyper-progressive standards, I might in fact be considered racist.  But by the standards of the 20th century, I would not be.  How could I have been racist when I was watching the Cosby Show?

()

Am I a sexist because I preferred the world of women with big hair, over the dystopian, androgynous 21st century?

()

()

I don't think so.  Neither do most of you who voted for me.  Though I'm not sure about women voters, since they've backed Democrats in every recent election.

My fellow Americans, how is it that I came to be elected as your president?  Many have asked this question.  A few weeks before the election, I asked my sister's husband "Are you going to vote for me?"  He said "I can't believe I'm saying this, but yeah, why not?  How much worse can things get?  Might as well elect a president who'll do something crazy, just in case one of his crazy ideas works."  God, I love this country.

()

My fellow Americans, the greatest challenge facing our nation today is how to put down the Islamist insurrection gripping much of our country, west of the Mississippi.  I have put forth three proposals, one of which is bound to be crazy enough to work.

The first is a commando raid on terrorist training camps, and commando assassinations of all terrorist leaders.  These will be commandos in the mold of famous 1980s action stars Bruce Willis, Sylvester Stallone, and Arnold Schwarzenegger, all Republicans.

A few weeks ago, I called my good friend, Keystone Phil.  I asked him "Phil, if Bruce Willis were to attack Fredward's headquarters with a small team of commandos, do you think the commandos would be able to secure the installation and neutralize Fredward with minimal casualties?  I mean, assuming you could do it with the Bruce Willis of the 1980s or 1990s.  Not Bruce Willis today, since he's like 70 years old."

He answered "Naso, for God's sake.  Stop calling me at this hour!  You're president-elect of the United States!  Don't you have more serious questions to worry about?  Grow up."

I'm sorry, but if growing up means leaving the 20th century behind, then call me Peter Pan.

()

If option one fails, then the second anti-terror strategy involves dropping tactical nuclear weapons onto key targets in the western United States.  This option has not been popular with other world leaders, who warn of nuclear fallout, both in the United States and abroad.  Many of them say such a move would be destabilizing.  They say that I would be overreacting to America's internal problems, and that I don't care about the rest of the world.  Well, excuse me for being President of the United State of America.  But these other world leaders have no right to sanction us, just like little Johnny should not have been sanctioned by his teacher for pointing at someone like he was holding a gun.

And I should note, it's unfair to say that I have no regard for other nations.  I care deeply about advancing the interests of all Americans.  Ronald Reagan never ruled out the use of nuclear weapons against the Communist threat, and I will not rule out their use within the territory of this or any other country.

()

The final option is one that I pray is not needed.  While this land is very special to me, the idea of America is more important than its physical location.  For too long, we have neglected this nation's space program.  But now....well, if we cannot have an American continent of North America, then we can have an American moon and an American Mars.  If Bruce Willis can fly into an asteroid to save the Earth from doom, then why can't we fly away to heavenly bodies and recreate America in space?  I see a United States of the Solar System, in which every planet has ratified the US Constitution, with liberty and justice for Americans of all races and all religions, whether they be Christian or Catholic.

()

That is the country that I see.  Right now, times may be tough, and it may be hard to see her.  But in my heart I know America will come back, it's just a question of if and when. I still see a country I love.

Thank you, and may God bless America.

()

Plagiarism disclaimer: Some sections of that speech (and some of the pics) are lifted directly from previous Naso threads.

I am riveted.

Just so you know, mobile homes aren't.  Once upon a time they were mobile, but even then they never could be driven, only towed.  If it can be driven, it's called an RV (short for recreational vehicle) in this country, not a mobile home.

Ouch...

Master work.  My thanks and appreciation for adding this joy to our lives.

My favorite line is:

Hog: It's too late for that now.

I kinda knew it was only a matter of time before we started seeing a lot of Update fan fiction pop up.

I've been playing with the overall story arc in my head these past few days, to try to see if I can get the dominoes to line up the right way, with all the various subplots intertwining properly.  Then I go back to reading Update, and find that real Bushie and fictional Bushie are increasingly difficult to distinguish.


https://uselectionatlas.org/FORUM/index.php?topic=174552.msg3779970#msg3779970


https://uselectionatlas.org/FORUM/index.php?topic=174552.msg3779982#msg3779982

Thanks for the kind words everyone.

I've started writing Episode 6, and will have it up some time this week, but don't get your hopes up too much, as there are not too many jokes in this one.  I've got to move the plot forward, which in this case means fewer jokes.


Well, let's say it's an upgraded futuristic Bushie family home that is actually mobile?  I don't know, just go with it.  I needed to give them some quick transportation, and wanted to have a TV in there, so this seemed like the easiest solution.

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 6 "I've Been Running On Fumes Of Fumes"

[Hog, RickRoll, and Blondie weren't too pleased about President Naso's talk of nuking the western United States.  Particularly since they were headed directly into Islamist-controlled territory that could be ground zero for such an attack.  RickRoll did note that he was pleased with Naso's ideas for the space program, as he'd always wanted to go into space.  He was equally excited when they decided to stop at a bar in Blackwell, OK, just before the Kansas state line, called "The Mars Bar" (get it?).

The sign in front of the bar advertised a dance competition with a $200 cash prize, which RickRoll was confident they could compete in.  They had no other food or money, so it was worth a shot.  Blondie stayed outside to scavenge for food on his own.  He's a dog, so not quite as picky about what he eats.

As they approached the entrance to the bar, they were stopped by a security guard.  The guard removed a handheld device that looked like a wand, and waved it over Hog and RickRoll.]

Guard: Please don't be alarmed.  I'm just running an IP check on you.

[RickRoll looked at the guard closely, and realized that he knew him from somewhere.]

RickRoll: Inks?

Guard (aka, Inks): Yes, my name is Inks.  (defensively) You're not a federal agent or anything, are you?

RickRoll: No, why would you ask that?

Inks: No reason.

[Inks checked what looks like a cell phone, looking for some kind of reading from the device he waved over Hog and RickRoll.  Then he spoke into the phone.]

Inks: Ernest, could you come up here?

[He then addresses RickRoll.]

Inks: Records show that you were banned from Atlas in 2010.  That's long enough ago that this probably isn't a problem, but you didn't come here looking to settle a score with any moderators, did you?  Because we won't allow you to do so.

[Ernest emerges from the bar.]

Inks: (to Ernest) Ernest, this gentleman (points to Hog) isn't in our file system, but the computer says that this man here (points to RickRoll) is RickRoll, a "friend" of Bushie's, who trolled the Update thread back in 2010, and was subsequently banned.  Do you remember him?

Ernest: Can't say that I do.  But we banned so many people in the intervening years, that that's not unexpected.  If he was banned that long ago, then I'm sure there are no hard feelings, and he understands that we did what we had to do to uphold the Terms of Service.  Gentlemen, if you wish to enter this establishment, you are welcome to do so.

[Hog and RickRoll, went on to explain that they had traveled through time, and had been sent on a quest by a holographic version of Bushie.  Ernest didn't buy their story, but was nonetheless intrigued.  He invited Hog and RickRoll into the bar to have a drink with him.  Inks followed after them, with Tender Branson replacing him on guard duty.

As they sat down for a drink, Hog noticed the complete lack of women in the bar.]

Hog: What's with this place?  All dudes....

Ernest: This establishment is primarily frequented by Oklahoma married couples.....and former US Election Atlas moderators.  Both demographics skew heavily male.  I can provide the 2020 Census data from Dave Leip's redistricting app to give you the exact numbers if you're interested.

RickRoll: I don't understand.  Why would so many moderators from the Atlas be here?

Ernest: In the later years of the forum's existence, the troll problem became so great as to require.....extraordinary measures by Nym and the moderation team.  In many cases, our actions could fairly be described as crimes against humanity.  But here, on the Oklahoma state line with Kansas, we are relatively removed from the reach of US and international law enforcement.....and too remote for the families of executed trolls to seek out revenge against us.

Nym himself actually owns this establishment, and many of us continue to work for him.

Inks: Not that he gives us much money to live on.

Ernest: Nym's resources are relatively meager.  The Atlas did generate significant revenue from premium memberships in its waning years, but none of that went to the moderation staff.

Inks: It's rough.  Ernest and I are actually entering today's dance competition to earn some extra money.  And if I may say so, we're not too bad.  (proudly) Won it last year.

Ernest: The competition is held every year on Jan. 20, regardless of whether it's a presidential inauguration year.  I believe it's some sort of morbid joke on the part of Nym, reminding us of our former work on a political forum.

RickRoll: We were hoping to enter that competition as well.  We need the prize money.  We've got no food, no gas, and no money, and we're trying to get to Salt Lake City.

Inks: Salt Lake City?!?  Are you crazy?  Do you know how dangerous that is?  To travel through all that Islamist and troll territory?  Come on, you're lying to us, admit it.  I'm beginning to wonder if you're really even here in this room, or if you're appearing from a proxy server to hide your identity.  Are you a sock account of Mondale84 by any chance?  Consider:

1. Your IP matches that of a banned user, RickRoll.
2. You give us an implausible account of having traveled through time.
3. You claim to be on a journey to Salt Lake City at great risk to your life, with no supplies and no money.

You have to admit that this is pretty suspicious.  I suggest that if you're hiding anything, you come clean now, or risk being banned from this establishment.

Ernest: Easy there Inks.  You're having PTSD flashbacks to your moderator days again.

[We cut to an exterior shot of Blackwell.  Blondie is wandering through the streets, looking for anything to eat.  He passes by a young boy, walking by himself.  Blondie is a bit surprised, since it's getting dark out now, and this doesn't look like a terribly safe place for a young kid.

Just after they pass one another, the boy turns around, points at Blondie, and yells...]

Boy: Hey!  I know that dog!  That's Bushie's dog, who's been missing for 16 years!


TO BE CONTINUED....

I think I can safely say that I would not be winning any dance competitions.  I could say more about my mischaracterization here but I won't. Complaining about being in a fan fiction won't help the girls get me.

I'm not a professional writer, so the level of effort I go to in getting the characterizations right varies a lot.  ;)  Sometimes, like in the Bushie/Inks courtroom scene (which was probably the most fun to write of anything I've done so far), I borrow heavily from the kinds of things the posters in question have posted on Atlas.  But much of the rest of the time, I'm just trying to move the plot forward, and don't really care much about the characterizations.

And of course, some of the "characters" here on Atlas are more distinctive than others.  Bushie has a lot of Bushie-isms, so one can throw those into his dialog to make it seem more "realistic".  But with the fictional Ernest, I'm not trying very hard to replicate the real Ernest.  Same with the fictional Nym, who I haven't gotten to yet, but I don't think it's much of a spoiler to say that he will appear, since he owns the bar.

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 7  "We Prefer Early Dinners So We Can Enjoy Our Evenings"

[We pick up on Blondie, outside on the streets of Blackwell, having just been confronted by the young boy, who recognized him as Bushie's long lost dog.]

Blondie: Huh?  How would you know that?  How do you know who Bushie is?

Boy: Everyone knows who Bushie is.  Everyone knows him from "Update", which made him famous.  Everyone hated him because he let you run away.

Blondie: I didn't run away.  I was sucked into a tornado and thrown 16 years into the future.

Boy: Everyone really hated him.  Everyone loves puppies, and didn't like that his puppy J.J. ran away and probably died.  They made songs making fun of Bushie from Update.

[Cut to a recording of an autotuned reenactment of Bushie saying that he's going to "sit here and cry" after the cat scratches him...with all the emotion from leaving his job at ONG and the broken engagement as well....Ed Helms is playing Bushie (though he opted not to gain weight or grow a moustache for the role) and a "Greek chorus"-like panel of three people, including Aaron Rodgers, represent the other Atlas posters: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Ks_wf1O0mA ]

Blondie: Well that was a long time ago.  How would you even know that, if you weren't born back then?  How old are you?  What's your name?

Boy: I'm 10.  But I was 10 back then too.  I've been 10 for a long time.  My name's Yougo.  Yougo1000.

Blondie: How can you be 10 for more than a year?  That doesn't make any sense.

Yougo1000: I don't know.  I'm just a kid.  I don't know a lot of things.  Like how come you can talk if you're a dog?  And how come you're still a puppy if you were a puppy back then?

Blondie: I told you.  A tornado sent me into the future.

Yougo1000: A time traveling dog?  That's dumb.  No one would read that timeline.  I like my timelines better.  1799 John Adams goes for a hike in the woods and gets lost.  Thomas Jefferson becomes president.

Blondie: Listen, Yougo, I don't have any food.  Do you know where I can find some food?

Yougo1000: Give me some money and I'll buy you food. 1800 Jefferson makes peace with 25 countries, and the people like him.  He wins election with VP Aaron Burr.

Blondie: I don't have any money.  I just want to scavenge for food.  Do you know where there's a good dumpster or something?

Yougo1000: You're famous.  People would pay money to see you.  Then you can buy food. 1801 Jefferson supports education bill that Aaron Burr doesn't like.  They have a duel and shoot each other and Aaron Burr is dead.

Blondie: I don't have time for that.  Now come on, where's a good dumpster?

Yougo1000: (thinks for a few seconds) Hmmmm....I know a big one, but it's a few blocks from here.  I'll take you there. 1802 House Speaker Macon invites President Jefferson to give a speech in Congress.  Everyone claps, but then Jefferson trips on his way out and hits his head and dies.  Everyone's mad at Macon for making Congress unsafe.

Blondie: Do you have to keep talking about that ridiculous what-if story?

[Yougo starts to walk down the street in the direction of the dumpster, and Blondie follows.]

Yougo1000: 1803 John Adams comes back from his walk in the woods, and everyone wants him to be president again.  But Russia doesn't like him, so they fire nukes, and the world blows up.

Blondie: Can we please not joke about nuclear weapons right now?

[Inside the Mars Bar, Ernest and Inks are still not convinced that Hog and RickRoll are being truthful about the time traveling, but they nonetheless humor them by answering any of their questions about the lay of the land in 2029.]

RickRoll: Do you know this Salt Lake City gangster that Bushie mentioned, "The Irishman"?

Ernest: I'm not familiar with him, but Salt Lake City is a rat's nest of criminal activity.  It's one of the cities in the Rockies that the Islamists don't fully control.  Mormon militias control much of the city, and there's a great deal of organized crime as well.

RickRoll: How did the Islamists manage to take over so much territory?

Ernest: The key development was the passage of comprehensive immigration reform in 2013.

Inks: Ted Cruz's allies in both houses of Congress managed to slip several poison pills into the bill when it was in conference committee.

[Cut to Cruz giving a press conference, triumphantly revealing the number of new provisions in the legislation which will make it impossible to pass.]

()

Cruz: The version of the immigration bill coming out of conference committee now includes a provision mandating the release of toxic chemicals onto Florida beaches every summer, as well as the immediate cancellation of all those NCIS shows.  Those things get big ratings, right?  So you're not going to want to vote for this thing, because you'll have millions of angry constituents.

And in terms of actual immigration related provisions, this bill subsidizes the immigration of al Qaeda members across the Mexican border.  We'll fly them over from Pakistan, and have them march from Mexico into the Southwestern US carrying automatic weapons.  Then when they arrive, we have a guest worker program for them.

Inks: Then Marco Rubio held a duelling press conference to respond to Cruz.

()

Rubio: Hmmmm....I think I'll still support this.  I've bet everything on this thing passing, so I'd look ridiculous if I backed away now.

()

Cruz: We're giving the terrorists full amnesty.  If this bill passes, any terrorist who immigrates from Mexico gets a full pardon for all past crimes.  We also give them a path to citizenship, though unlike Mexican illegal immigrants, they don't have to pay a fine.  We'll pay them.

()

Rubio: Yeah, I think I'll still support this.  Can I be president now?

Inks: The conference committee version of the bill passed both houses of Congress.  House Speaker John Boehner had initially vowed not to put it up for a vote, but Nancy Pelosi stole his gavel when Boehner left the House chamber for a bathroom break, and quickly pushed the bill through, much to Boehner's embarrassment.

()

Inks: Then Barack Obama released a statement, saying:

()

Obama: I was just about to make out with Michelle.  Just put whatever it is in front of me, and I'll sign it.  Then will you leave?

()

Rubio: Cool.  We have immigration reform, and a guest worker program for terrorists.  Can I be president now?

Inks: Then Martin O'Malley held a duelling press conference.

()

O'Malley: Hey Marco, not so fast on that president thing.  There are still lots of other people who could be elected in 2016......like me.  I play in a band.  That's pretty cool, huh?  Makes me seem like a regular guy, and not just another stuffed shirt.

Inks: Then Hillary Clinton tweeted:

()

Clinton: Lol.  Stop kidding yourself Marty!  #governorodesperatey

Inks: Then Chuck Grassley tweeted:

()

Grassley: Hey guyz, i dont relly care whch of u is prez, but when u campane in IA, could u stop by & hlp me put out thiz fire? (1/2)
Grassley: i was brning pilz of brush, fire out of cntrl, im on fire rite now (2/2) #pantsburnlegwound (https://uselectionatlas.org/FORUM/index.php?topic=94837.0)


TO BE CONTINUED....

Ah, nothing like a good old fashioned pantsburnlegwound joke to round out the day. I'm enjoying this greatly by the way.

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 8  "The Kids Usually Listen To Me"

[We begin in the Mars Bar.  Ernest and Inks are continuing to explain how Islamists took over much of the western USA.]

Ernest: Once so many al Qaeda operatives had settled in the Southwestern US, they began to organize.  There was a big prison break at the Supermax prison in Florence, Colorado, where many notorious criminals were being held, including the blind sheikh Omar Abdel-Rahman, Zacarias Moussaoui, the 1993 World Trade Center conspirators, the 1998 Africa embassy conspirators, and many others.  All hell was breaking loose in the country, but people were slow to react, partly because they were distracted by the unfolding news about "Update" star Bushie, and were mad at him because he mistreated his dog, who'd apparently run away.  Sharia was spreading throughout the region, though Oklahoma's stringent anti-sharia law made it a safe harbor.

Secretary of Homeland Security Janet Napolitano tried to lead a rapid response team to the Mexican border to prevent any more terrorist incursions, but most of her team was killed, and she ended up resigning her post, and joining a gang called the "Space Bikers", mostly consisting of Oklahoma women frustrated with the recent scarcity of eligible bachelors within the state.

Inks: The Space Bikers are actually still active around this area.  Engaging in people smuggling with Somali pirates in Kansas, selling people who they think will net large ransoms.

Ernest: The Islamic insurgency was gaining ground, but they were disorganized.  The man who actually helped to organize and fund them was Fredward, the first child of a male/male mating in Oklahoma.  The male/male babies had been products of experimental fertility treatment, which unexpectedly caused the children to age rapidly, and even gain adult level intelligence within a few years of their birth.  As the first such child, Fredward gained worlwide celebrity status.  But he soon grew disillusioned with Western culture and his Christian homosexual heritage, and joined the Islamists.  With his help, the Islamists gained enough strength to give us the current quasi-equilibrium:

[Ernest starts sketching a map as he speaks.]

Ernest: Islamist control of much of the Western US, but with Oklahoma an isolated island state, free of sharia, but cut off from the remaining contiguous US states, eastern Colorado controlled by trolls, Salt Lake City contested, with many Mormon militias holding out against the Islamists, Idaho and Montana controlled by independent militias, and North Dakota an armed camp patrolled by the US military to protect the country's nuclear arsenal.  Washington, Alaska, and Hawaii have become Canadian provinces.

Here's a map of the 2028 election, in which Mike Naso defeated incumbent president Oprah Winfrey (ignore shading):

()

RickRoll: I remember Naso from the Atlas forum, and we saw his inaugural speech, but he didn't seem much like presidential material.

Inks: Naso was considered a longshot early on.  But he did make grandiose promises about finally getting tough on the Islamist insurgency.  Also, Winfrey was the oldest president ever to run for reelection, and she was clearly going senile.

[Cut to a 2028 debate between Naso and Winfrey.]

Winfrey: My first guest is a true inspiration.  She's 53, owns her own business, and suffers from numerous physical ailments.  And I must say that she is STUNNING.  However, despite Senator Naso's claims to the contrary, she would not benefit from his health care plan, as it is her inner self that has suffered the greatest injury.  She requires a spiritual healing for which my opponent would deny her any insurance.  She needs to feel the power that comes from focusing on what would heal her soul.

And now we've come to the part of the show where I ask for some pithy comments from some of you in my studio audience.

94 year old Jim Lehrer attached to life support machine: There will be no commentary from the audience, as this is not a town hall style debate.  Also, it's not your studio audience.

Winfrey: I'm feeling at peace with myself today, and would like to surround myself with people who are going to lift me higher.  I can empower all of you to lift yourselves higher, by simply reaching under each of your seats, where you'll find the keys to your own personal airplanes, which you'll receive as a free gift from me to you.  Finally, did I mention Deepak Chopra?

94 year old Jim Lehrer attached to life support machine: I believe the room was searched by security before the debate began, and there are no keys under your seats.  Also, I'm pretty sure that that kind of vote buying would be illegal.

In any case, thank you Madame President, though the question was about education.  Senator Naso, you have two minutes to respond.

Naso: Thank you Jim.

Education.

I believe we face an education crisis in America today.  When my mother was in high school, she was one of the so-called "popular" girls in school, and even dated a star football player.  However, she knew who Reagan and Bush were, and even what the Soviet Union and Communism were.  She knew of television programs such as The Dukes of Hazard and Dallas.  Does the present generation even know why we celebrate the 4th of July, or who shot J.R.?

()

In the baby boomer generation, many young people were given an education that prompted them to join the counterculture.  However, others rebelled in other ways, and went on to become Republicans.  Former presidents Bill Clinton and George W. Bush were both baby boomers, and they came to vastly different conclusions about America's place in the world.

()

()

In the Cold War, there was a unifying sense of purpose within the country.  We faced an existential threat to our existence, and we rose to the challenge.  Today, half of our nation is under enemy occupation, and yet the threat feels less real.

My niece is 17 years old and takes history class in high school.  I recently asked her "Do you think the rest of America is in danger of being overrun by terrorists?  Are they going to burn down your house, and force you to wear a burqa?"  She answered "Probably not.  That would suck."

She gets a public education, but is unable to answer this question with more than five words, one of which is "suck"?

()

Is this because of changes in our culture?  In the 1980s, even when Ronald Reagan was nearly done defeating the Soviet Union, Hollywood still gave us movies like Rambo III, which depicted the fight against Communism in Afghanistan.  In the 2020s, we are still afraid to make movies with Muslim villains because of concerns about cultural sensitivity.  Why is the Hollywood of today so worried about political correctness....other than the fact that Hollywood, along with the entire state of California, is under Islamist occupation, and they haven't been making movies there for many years now?

()

Thank you, and may God Bless America.

[We cut to the streets of Blackwell, where Yougo is leading Blondie to the dumpster he promised.]

Yougo1000: 1932 The world is still recovering from the nuclear war in 1803.  World population is up to 100 million.  Herbert Hoover is elected president.

Blondie: Listen, kid, why were you out on the streets by yourself anyway?  It's dark.  Shouldn't your parents be watching you?

Yougo1000: I don't have parents.  I've been ten for a long time. 1933 Russia breaks up into three pieces and the western half merges with Poland to form the "Poland-West Russia Federation", or "POWER Federation".

Blondie: But someone looks after you?

Yougo1000: I have someone who looks after me.  But he's not in town.  I'm visiting on my own.  I help people out here, and they help me out. 1934 Hitler attacks the POWER Federation, but they stop him.  Hoover visits the Middle East for peace talks.

[They arrive in an alley just next to The Mars Bar.  But there's no dumpster.  Just an alley with a dead end.]

Blondie: Well, this is right where I started.  My friends are inside this bar, and I started my search for food here, before I ran into you.  But there's no dumpster.   You said there'd be a big dumpster.

Yougo1000: This is where they said to bring anyone I found who would be worth it. 1935 The peace talks keep going, but people in America want Hoover to come home.

Blondie: What?  Who?  What do you mean "Worth it"?

[Yougo's expression changes, and he suddenly looks very serious.]

Yougo1000: Like I said before.  You're famous.  People would pay for you. 1936 Hoover is kidnapped in the Middle East, and America pays a big ransom for him.

[And with that, the Space Bikers appear, flying in on hovercraft-like vehicles.  They grab both Yougo and Blondie, with Blondie letting out a big yelp as they fly off into the night.]


TO BE CONTINUED....

Should note that I didn't put all that much thought into that electoral map, regarding both the allocation of House seats and which states are won by which candidate.  I just wanted a narrow Naso win, and that looked good enough for me.  Also wanted to make sure that Oklahoma was isolated from the US, so AR and MO are part of sharia-land.  Distribution of House seats, I don't know.  Obviously, this is a rather bizarre timeline, so who knows how populations would shift in such a scenario?  I just took this guesstimate from jimrtx:

https://uselectionatlas.org/FORUM/index.php?topic=165939.msg3547399#msg3547399

and then added 1 seat to several of the states bordering sharia-land because, um...refugees?

If anyone wants to actually suggest any changes to it, I'm open to retroactively adjusting it.

This is great

This is awesome. Do you mind if I make a color-coded map of territory controlled?

Go for it.

()

Key:

Blue=US control. Dark blue=voted for President Naso; lighter blue=did not vote for President Naso; cyan=military control.
Red=annexed to Canada.
Green=sharia.
Brown=militias.
Orange=Mormons.
Gold=trolls.
Purple=Oklahoma.


How did I do?

Perfect.  Of course, if one really wanted to, one could imagine variations that don't involve all the state boundaries remaining intact.  But it doesn't really matter for the purposes of this story.  Our heroes aren't going on a 50 state tour.  Just a road trip to Salt Lake City that will also take them through troll territory in eastern CO.

I'll explain what "troll territory" consists of several episodes down the line.

I was thinking of doing that--adding some boundary ambiguity in southern Iowa and Northern Missouri, northern Louisiana and southern Arkansas, around the troll territory, and so on--but I didn't want to get ahead of what's been established in the story so far.

I'm excited to see what the troll territory is like.

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 9 "Most Of It Goes In One Ear And Out The Other"

[We begin in the Mars Bar.  After Ernest and Inks's explanation of the background on the Islamist insurgency, as covered in the last episode, talk turns to the dance competition.  Inks is returning to the table, having come back with the order of participants for the competition.]

Inks: You two (points to Hog and RickRoll) will be up just after Ernest and myself.  The warm up act will start soon enough, and then the competition starts immediately afterwards.

Hog: Warm up act?

Inks: See the old man over there?

[Inks points at a man across the room who appears to be in his late 70s.  He's standing up and appears to be muttering to himself, and occasionally looking down at a piece of paper in his left hand.]

Inks: That's Torie, another former Atlas moderator.  He does stand up comedy.

I mean, we're all pretty sure he's no longer quite right in the head.  Delusions.  This place is called the Mars Bar, but he seems to think that this is actually Mars, and that he's lived here his whole life.  Spends most of the day on the treadmill, drinking protein shakes and shouting profanities.  Says he's afraid to go to Earth, as the heavy gravity there would crush his bones.

In any case, reaction to his stand up routine has been mixed, as he relies heavily on shock value.

RickRoll: Well, if we're going to be on soon, I'd like to use the bathroom first.  Excuse me.

[RickRoll gets up, and makes his way to the bathroom.  He actually crosses the path of Torie, who gently grabs his arm as he walks by.]

Torie: Excuse me.  Excuse me, sir.

RickRoll: Yeah?  What do you want?

Torie: Listen....is it just me, or do my b@lls itch?

RickRoll: (taken aback by the question) Umm...it's you.

Torie: Oh good.  For a second I thought my b@lls itched.

[RickRoll just stares at him, not knowing what to say.]

Torie: It's a joke.

[Back at the table across the room, Ernest, Inks, and Hog continue to chat.]

Hog: So, there are a lot of you moderators here, huh?  How much time did you spend moderating that internet forum?

Ernest: I suppose it depends on how you define time spent moderating.  Do you restrict yourself to time spent issuing infraction points, deleting or modifying posts, moving threads, etc.?  Do you include PMs sent to other posters discussing moderation, and/or time spent composing posts for the mod board?

Inks: You could also include time spent reporting posts that may or may not be for boards that you yourself moderate.

Ernest: Of course, a large fraction of reported posts were frivolous, and resulted in no action from the moderators.  Inks himself reported a fairly high 2.15 posts per moderator action.

Inks: Only if you include posts in which the post was modified but no points were assessed as no action.  I think if you include those as a moderator action, it drops to 1.83, which is lower than your 1.95.

Ernest: This depends on the time baseline one uses.  Are you including the full time baseline of the infraction system?

Inks: No, because the early records no longer exist.  (Inks pulls out a printout he happens to have in his pocket) However, I've taken a random sampling from 5 one week periods....

[Hog backs away from the table, not wanting to get in on the argument.  When RickRoll returns from the bathroom, they meet at the bar.  Hog, hoping that the argument will distract Ernest and Inks from the competition, asks RickRoll to remain at the bar with him.]

RickRoll: (to Hog) For the love of God, what a ridiculous argument they're having.  Reminds of that time in college when Bushie and a friend of his argued about whether it was possible to annoy God by making too many prayers for unimportant requests.

[It's then time for Torie to begin his act.  Everyone is silent (except Ernest and Inks, who continue to argue under their breath about who has made more frivolous moderator reports) as he approaches the microphone to deliver his act.

I can't actually type out what Torie says, because it includes numerous expletives, so I'll give you the video (WARNING: numerous profanities here, so NSFW):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q7P7BFBWQ1E

As Torie finishes his act, he declares the beginning of the dance contest.  First up is AndrewCT, who does some impressive singing with backup from the band, but his dancing is rather simplistic.  He gets polite applause from the audience.

Next up is Tender Branson, whose halfhearted attempt to pull off Austrian folk dancing is met by boos from the audience (2:33 in the video below).

Ernest and Inks are then supposed to be on, but they continue to argue about the statistics of frivolous moderator reports.  Hog then urges on RickRoll to step up for their turn, and....well....again, you can see the video here (yes, I realize that Hog is now "played" by a different actor than the one from the Fredward video...~3:25 in the video for Hog and RickRoll's dance):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UDqQRuY-Voo

As Hog and RickRoll are finishing their act, the camera focuses on a well dressed man with a bow tie sitting on the side of the bar, looking uncomfortable.]


TO BE CONTINUED....

OK, that one was pretty short, but the next one will be at least a bit longer and include a fun flashback.

Also, the Ernest/Inks argument is a parody of a real life one they had on the mod board.  (You had to be there.)

Please delete future references to Torie's balls and include the fact that Jeff Junior/Blondie will be deceased soon from overheating.

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 10 "I Lose Sight Of The Fact That The Only Thing I Deserve Is Hell"

[We again begin in the Mars Bar.  After a few more contestants participate in the dance contest, an announcement is made that the judges will deliberate, and announce the results shortly.

At this point, the Ernest/Inks argument is finally wrapping up.  Ernest walks over to talk to Hog and RickRoll, when he notices the well dressed man in the bow tie (mentioned at the end of the last episode), who is now revealed to be....]

Ernest: Nym!  I didn't know you were even going to be here tonight.  Hog, RickRoll, come over to meet Nym, the owner of this establishment.

Nym90: (still looking uncomfortable, but shakes hands with them regardless) Pleased to meet you.

Hog: You OK?

Nym90: Yes, yes.  I'm fine.  Please, sit down.

[Ernest, Hog, and RickRoll all join him at his table.]

Nym90: It's just that....I recognize you.  (points to RickRoll)  I remember you as RickRoll, a poster who was banned from Atlas.

RickRoll: You remember that?!?

Nym90: I remember all of them....the face of every poster I ever banned.

Ernest: (explaining to Hog and RickRoll) Nym feels tremendous guilt over everything that happened with Atlas.

RickRoll: It's no big deal.  It was just an internet forum that I spent a few hours on.  And that was years ago.  I don't blame you.

Nym90: Yes, well.....you were banned before the dark days, when the troll problem became much worse.  Dave Leip, the Atlas administrator....we never heard from him after the mid 2010s, when troll activity was increasing greatly.  But with the help of Inks and my deputy Modadmin, Ernest here, we were able to unlock additional administrator functions, which made permabans more....permanent.

[We now cut to a flashback, of some unspecified time late in the 2010s.  Inks is in an interrogation room, interrogating a prisoner.  Adjacent to the room is another room, connected by a one way mirror, so that others can observe the interrogation, but neither Inks nor the prisoner can see through to the other side.  In this other room, Ernest is observing through the glass.

A door to the room that Ernest is in opens, and Nym walks through.]

Nym90: Good morning, Ernest.

Ernest: Good morning sir.  I have the file on the prisoner here.  (hands a manilla envelope to Nym)

Nym90: (opens envelope) Another one caught by Inks?

Ernest: Indeed, sir.

Nym90: He is remarkable, isn't he Ernest?  An inspiration to the rest of the team.

Ernest: That he is, sir.

Nym90: All right, so this one's name is "Son of Rhodie"?

Ernest: That's correct, sir.  Posting from an IP in Cardiff, where we've had numerous sock accounts of British Dixie.  One such sock account was named "Rhodie", so this is rather suspicious.

Nym90: I see.  Well, you are dismissed, Ernest.  I believe your shift is over, and it's time for you to get back to your day job.

Ernest: Thank you sir.

Nym90: See you tomorrow Ernest. (as Ernest salutes, and then leaves the room)

[We shift focus to the interrogation room...]

Inks: Now, let's go over this again.  Your registration email was Al_should_die_in_a_fire@gmail.com.  How long have you had that email address?

Son of Rhodie: I think....a year?  About a year ago, I got a gmail account.

Inks: And what is the meaning of that address, "Al should die in a fire"?  Who is Al?  And why should he die in a fire?

Son of Rhodie: It means....that I hate....Al....Gore?

Inks: You're telling me, or you're asking me?

Son of Rhodie: Telling you.

Inks: So you've never had any sock accounts on Atlas?

Son of Rhodie: Never.

Inks: And you are not a sock account yourself?

Son of Rhodie: No....I would never....

Inks: Then how do you explain THESE? (as Inks quickly yanks up Son of Rhodie's right pant leg, to reveal several layers of socks, all with different IP addresses written on them)

[Son of Rhodie crumbles onto the floor, begging Inks for mercy.]

Son of Rhodie: I didn't know the penalty would be so severe.  I thought, perhaps, you'd block my IP.  Or contact my ISP to have them cut me off.  (holding back tears) I only did this because I wanted to cast multiple votes in the "opinion of bacon sundaes" thread!

Nym90: (from the adjacent room, speaking into the intercom system) I've seen enough Inks.  I'll take over from here.

[Nym walks into the interrogation room, as Inks pulls all of Son of Rhodie's socks off of both feet, gathering them up as he prepares to leave the room.]

Nym90: (to Inks as he's leaving)  Excellent work Inks, as always.  Take those socks to Level 2 processing.

[Inks departs, leaving Nym and a defeated Son of Rhodie alone.]

Nym90: (to Son of Rhodie) You did read the Terms of Service when you registered?

Son of Rhodie: Yes....I mean no, no I didn't read it.  I just clicked the box that said I read it, but no one ever reads those things.

Nym90: No one?  No one ever reads the Terms of Service, do they?  Mr. Rhodie.....or should I say.....Mr. British Dixie?  Even if you did not read the Terms of Service, you must have been aware that by posting on this site, you were using the property of Dave Leip.  Not your own property, but his?

Son of Rhodie: Yes.

Nym90: We have not heard from Mr. Leip of late.  We are not in direct contact with him.  But I have been entrusted with protecting his property.  I must uphold his rules.

Son of Rhodie: Yes...yes I understand.  But perhaps you could....

Nym90: I am not a violent man.  I do not enjoy violence.  But the job that I have been charged with by Mr. Leip requires violence.  And, if you must know....today is my birthday.  Would you like to celebrate my birthday with me?

Son of Rhodie: Well, happy birthday.  That sounds.....

[Nym begins to glow red, as the D-MI avatar on the front of his shirt alights, which stuns Son of Rhodie into silence for a second, and then....]

Son of Rhodie: What....what are you doing?  What's happening?

Nym90: It's my birthday, and we're going to have a birthday party.

[Nym lifts his hands, and red electricity pours forth from them, encircling Son of Rhodie.]

Nym90: Son of Rhodie, you have created multiple sock accounts, in violation of the Terms of Service.  You are PERMABANNED from the Atlas forum.

[The red electricity closes in on Son of Rhodie and disintegrates his body, which is quickly reduced to a pile of dust.  Nym looks down at his remains, showing no emotion.]

[We now cut back to 2029, and the conversation in the Mars Bar.]

Ernest: I do not regret our actions in those days.  The circumstances we faced were extraordinary.

Nym90: No, no you don't regret our actions.  But you did not bear the burden that I did. (turns to RickRoll) Let me tell you something RickRoll, I remember your face, just like I remember the face of every one of them, whether they lived or died.

I did not seek the job of Modadmin.  But Dave granted me the responsibility, and I accepted it.  I did not foresee how it would change me.  I became....a wild animal.  I was a lion who could not be satisfied with the meal alone.  I needed the kill.

Hog: But that's over now?

Nym90: Yes.  Yes, it's over.  There is no more Atlas.  We never heard from Dave again, but the plug was pulled on the website.  The maps, the forum....all gone now.  The US government reportedly had a copy made of the Atlas database, housed at the NORAD bunker in Cheyenne Mountain, but that's in troll territory now.  The government surely must have lost control of that facility at some point, so I don't know what happened to it.  All that's left of Atlas is this....

[Nym tosses a CD onto the table, and pushes it in Hog's direction.]

Nym90: Here.  Take a copy if you like.  It's "Update: A Book on Tape, as Narrated by Benedict Cumberpatch".  Bushie's online diary during the years of Atlas.  The most popular diary in all of modern history.  You can find these everywhere.  But as for the rest of Atlas.....all gone.  The main site (shakes head), it is a great loss.  But I'm glad that the forum is gone.  After what it did to me, and the rest of the moderation team here......and all of our victims.

[Nym pauses, and is about to say something else, when we hear a loud noise coming from outside, and then a dog yelping.  Everyone at the table rushes to the door, and steps outside.  MasterJedi is outside, at the door, running security.]

Nym90: (to MasterJedi) What was that?  What happened out here?

MasterJedi: Space bikers.  Nabbed a kid and a dog.  We got video of them on one of the security cameras on the side of the building.

[MasterJedi shows the others the video, having already downloaded it onto a handheld device he has.]

Hog: (reacting to the sight of Blondie on the video) That's our dog!

Nym90: Did you get an IP scan on them?

MasterJedi: Yes sir.

Nym90: Excellent work!  We'll be able to track them wherever they go in the world.  (to Hog and RickRoll) Don't worry gentlemen.  I won't abide kidnapping on my premises.  We'll get back your dog, and return that boy to his parents.


TO BE CONTINUED....

Incidentally, when I was almost done writing that episode, and just putting the finishing touches on it, I went back and looked at the thread introducing Nym as Modadmin:

https://uselectionatlas.org/FORUM/index.php?topic=130306.0

Nym's first post in that thread was:

Will have to break this one into two posts because of length...


The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 11 "I Am No Longer Satisfied With The Status Quo"

[We open on the Oval Office.  It's late at night on Jan. 20th, Inauguration Day, and newly sworn in President Mike Naso is alone after coming back from the Inaugural ball, leaning back in his chair, just taking in the fact that he's now the most powerful man on Earth (sort of....maybe not....the USA isn't quite what it used to be).

Naso is startled when he hears a voice, indicating that he's not alone in the room.  The voice is that of holo-Bushie:]


Naso: Bushie!  That is you, isn't it?  How did you get in here?  Just today, after I was inaugurated, my five year old daughter said to me "Daddy, aren't there bad people out there who want to hurt you now?"  I said "Yes, dear.  There are many bad people who want to hurt me, and who want to hurt you too.  Terrorists would kill us all right now if they had the chance, because daddy wants to kill them.  But we have secret service agents guarding our house now, so if terrorists come, the Secret Service will shoot them all with their big guns, and there'll be terrorist blood and brains everywhere, just like in an Arnold Schwarzenegger movie."

()


[Bushie waves his holographic hand through the wall to show Naso.]


[Naso is a bit stunned by what he sees, but he replies...]

Naso: You're from the future and you want to help me?  When Ronald Reagan was president in the 1980s, he said "The nine most terrifying words in the English language are, 'I'm from the government and I'm here to help.'"

()

Now you say you want to help me, but you're from the future and not the government.  But big government is growing every day.  If you're from the future, then you might be from a world in which the government is so big that you're a part of it, but don't even realize it, because you haven't stopped to think about anything happening in the world without the government holding your hand and coddling you.  It's also possible that liberal bias in the media has gotten worse in the future, and so the media has convinced you that you're only helping people, when you're really just addicting them to food stamps.

What will the future you speak of be like?

We can answer this question by imagining what someone from the past would think of the "future" we live in today.  A few weeks ago, while taking a break from White House transition planning, I watched an old rerun of Cheers on TV.  This is common, to watch old TV shows, since Hollywood is now run by Islamists, and there aren't as many new shows here as there once were.  We're stuck with an increasing number of foreign imports from nations with a questionable commitment to capitalism, who don't share our values.

()

While watching Cheers, I said to my wife Jessica "Do you remember when women had big hair, and wore clothes like Rebecca Howe did back then?"

She said "No, I don't remember that.  I wasn't born yet in the 1980s."

This is the grim reality we now face in America.  Where even women who are as old as my wife weren't alive in the 1980s.  I asked her about the fashions of the 1980s, before she was born.  But today, rather than letting women just be women, we're left with the confusing fashions of the 2020s.

()


Naso: Illinois produced many great Republicans, beginning with Abraham Lincoln, all the way until Ronald Reagan and Donald Rumsfeld.  But in the 21st century, Illinois gave us Barack Obama, as many states--


[Naso leans back in his chair, clasps his hands together, and looks intently at holo-Bushie.]

Naso: I believe I understand what you're getting at.

You're saying that Muon was working on this research back in 1983.  In 1983, the highest rated show on television was 60 Minutes.  The second highest rated show was Dallas.  You believe that Muon and his time machine are located in Dallas, and that it is capable of transporting someone through time by as much as 60 minutes.

()

Naso: I understand.  You want to use time travel to help save America.  This raises an interesting question.  Does time travel work like in the 1980s Michael J. Fox film Back to the Future, where when you go back in time, you can change things around however you want, kissing your mother and introducing hooliganism to the Norman Rockwell world of the 1950s via skateboarding and guitar playing?  Or does it work more like the 1990s Bruce Willis film 12 Monkeys, where you can't actually change anything, and you just end up dressing like a hippie and getting shot?

It is a difficult decision.  On the one hand, Back to the Future epitomized the optimistic spirit of both the 50s and the 80s, while 12 Monkeys showed us the grimness that would plague America for decades to come.  Also, Michael J. Fox played Alex P. Keaton on a television show that glorified conservatism on a weekly basis.  In one typical episode, Alex was talking about finding a girl to date and telling his mother that he was going to have to "pick a date off the girl tree." Despondent, she said, "ALEX! The girl tree?" to which he sarcastically replied, "Oh...sorry mom. The woman tree." Again, there was no claim of a fictional "War on Women" or any outcry. In fact, one could claim that the audience, which by the way included the President of the United States, would applaud Alex P. Keaton's sarcastic tone against his liberal mother.

()

On the other hand, Bruce Willis was an actual conservative.  He didn't just play one on TV.  He also saved the world from being destroyed by an asteroid in Armageddon, at the cost of his own life.

()


Naso: Will I help you, using the powers of my office?  That's what it's about these days, isn't it?  Wealth, business, success...that's been the Capitalist backbone for our history. Communism, government control, socialism, all that crap is what the rest of the world does. We would have had a nuclear war before allowing our nation to embrace the ideals of communism.  Now we seem to have people who sit back and think, "Hmmm maybe it's not so bad if I can get free stuff..."

I'll tell you what I'm going to do, Bushie.  God helps those who help themselves, doesn't he?  So did Ronald Reagan.  I'm going to help myself by sending in commandos to Salt Lake City to find whatever secret Xerox lab might be there, and liberate the city for America.  I'll leave it up to America to decide what kind of time travel it wants, whether Back to the Future time travel or 12 Monkeys time travel.  Just leave it up to the free market, with no government intervention.  That is, no government intervention other than the commandos.

()


Naso: I admire your spirit, Bushie.  I'll tell you what.  Even though black and women voters would never support me, I would sometimes watch movies that included blacks and/or women.  One of those movies was a 1980s flick called "48 Hours".  I'll see what I can give you within the next 48 hours, and you'll tell me what you can do with it.  And if you can't make use of any information I provide, then I'll send in the commandos.


[Holo-Bushie then disappears from the Oval Office, and we cut away to Bushie's true location in a holo-imaging chamber, at some undetermined time and place.  We see Bushie about to leave the holo-chamber, but there's something off about what we're seeing.  Bushie is notably thinner than we've previously seen him.  And in fact, we can't actually see him per se.  The room is dark, and he's cloaked in shadow, so we can't see his face, but it must be him, because his voice is familiar, though he sounds more confident, as he speaks to an unseen person offscreen....]

BushOK: (to mysterious person offscreen) He bought it, sir.  Just like Hog and the others.  They think I'm talking to them from the future, from 2035.  And the hologram makes it look like I'm as heavy as I always was, if not heavier.  Plus I act kind of bumbling, like I used to when I was younger, so they don't think anything's up.

[And now we hear the voice of the mysterious person offscreen, but don't see him...]

Mysterious Person: Excellent.  So our dear Mr. President will help us as well?  Congrats, Mr. Bushie, on a job well done.  One way or the other, we'll find the Irishman, and that time machine.


TO BE CONTINUED....

WHAT A TWIST

Another one that'll have to be split into two posts because of length:


The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 12 "I Have Always Disincentivized Bad Behavior"

[We open inside a warehouse in Arkansas City, Kansas, just across the state line with Oklahoma, and a short drive from Blackwell.  This is a makeshift base for the Somali Islamic Courts Union, which is operating in Kansas along with expatriate Somali pirates.  An elder is currently judging the fate of a prisoner named Bandit.]

Elder: Why did you enter the territory of the Islamic Courts Union?

Bandit3 the Worker: This isn't Islamic territory.  This is union territory, though.  Or at least, this place was unionized years ago, and the union should still be functioning.  I don't know about any courts though.  But I wouldn't trust the courts in Mike Naso's America.

Elder: You don't act very apologetic, do you?  You won't beg Allah forgiveness for your sins?

Bandit3 the Worker: I don't need to beg any deity for anything.  We have a constitution in this country, regardless of what the right wing media will tell you.  I was just passing through on my way to an Occupy rally in Oklahoma City, and got stopped here by one of your fascist thugs.  He said you claim that justice here is decided according to sharia law.

Elder: It is indeed.  And you best respect it.

Bandit3 the Worker: That's a lie.  You listen too much to The Media, and they haven't been telling the truth about anything for decades.  Kansas voted for Lyndon Johnson in 1964.  I've seen the election returns in all subsequent presidential elections. and they've continued to vote for Democrats, but Republican rural votes keep getting "discovered" during the vote counting.

Now The Media says that this isn't even part of the United States anymore, and that Terrorists are running everything here.  Just another fabrication to hype the "War on Terror", and line the pockets of Haliburton.  I guess they can't figure out how to steal votes out here anymore, so they just pretend it isn't part of the country.  Well, even if it isn't part of the United States of America, it is part of New America.

Elder: My followers claim that you're a bandit.  That you were trying to steal fuel for your car.

Bandit3 the Worker: That gasoline belongs to the workers, not the--

Elder: Enough!  You admit your crime.  The penalty for theft is the amputation of your hands.  (to his followers) Take him away, and impose the punishment.

[Bandit is taken away by two of the Elder's Somali followers.  As he's led away, he screams...]

Bandit3 the Worker: I'd be able to handle the loss of my hands if I didn't live in Mike Naso's America, where there is no guaranteed health insurance, and.....

[And he's led out of earshot, so we can no longer hear him.]

Elder: (to the rest of his followers) And who's next?  Is there anyone else to be brought here for judgment tonight?

[With that, we see a large number of burqa-clad women file into the warehouse.  They are the Space Bikers, but they appear in burqas because it's the only way the Elder will agree to see them.  Yougo1000 accompanies them, and they also bring the captive Blondie in a cage.]

Yougo1000: 1937 Hoover is freed, but he's not president anymore.  Thomas Dewey is sworn in as president.

Lead Space Biker: Sir, we present this dog, J.J. (points to Blondie), who is known as the long lost dog of Bushie.  He will fetch a hefty ransom, which you can--

[As she speaks, we suddenly see eight of the Space Bikers who are hanging around the back of the room throw off their burqas.....except that they're not actually Space Bikers.  The ones who have discarded their burqas were actually Nym and several of his moderators: Ernest, Inks, Joe Republic, MasterJedi, and Tender Branson, plus Hog and RickRoll.  They'd been wearing burqas to blend in with the Space Bikers, having snuck in with the crowd since....well....it's hard to tell who you are when you're wearing a burqa.  As they reveal themselves, the Elder, the other Somalis, and the real Space Bikers gasp.]

Nym90: (to the lead Space Biker) Not so fast there ma'am!  That dog was kidnapped on my property, and I'm not about to let you get away with this!

[In reaction, several of the Somalis pull out guns, and point them at Nym and the other mods.]

Elder: How dare you intrude on these premises, and claim jurisdiction over the life of this dog?  (points to Blondie, in the cage)

Nym90: Sir, if you beg our forgiveness on our intrusion, I believe I can demonstrate our commitment to that dog, and perhaps convince you to set him free.

In my younger days, I would have resorted to violence to solve a problem like this, but I've moved beyond that now.

I now see that such matters should not be solved by the issuing of infraction points, or moderator reviews, or bannings, but through nonviolent means.  And those of us from the Atlas forum have one surefire nonviolent method for getting what we want.  MasterJedi?

[MasterJedi steps forward, and holds a piece of paper in front of him.]

MasterJedi: I hold here.......a petition!  It reads "Petition to free the dog 'Blondie', alternately known as 'J.J.'".  Each of us here has signed it by typing our names, and putting an "X" next to it.

[He trieds to hold it out to the Somalis, for them to take, but they all just glare at him, not making a move, continuing to point their guns at the mods.]

Elder: What is this?  Is this a joke?

Inks: I knew this wouldn't work.  These things never work.

Tender Branson: Oh, come on Inks.  It was worth a try.

Inks: Dave never read those things.  You think this guy would bother reading it?  These petitions are pointless.  We should have just PM'ed him.

Yougo1000: 1938 The West Bank, Oman, and Togo form a loose confederacy called the "WOman Togo Confederacy".  Ironically, they start exterminating all women.

[MasterJedi retracts the petition, slinking away from the Somalis.  Hog and RickRoll look at each other nervously, silently communicating to each other that they're worried about the mess that these moderators have gotten them into.  Hog is holding on to a rock, of the type that he's tried to throw at Bushie in the past.  RickRoll is looking around for some kind of weapon of his own.  He spots a loose plank of wood on the warehouse floor, and starts to make a move for it......

....when one of the Somalis sees him making what he thinks is a threatening motion, and shoots him square in the chest.]

*BANG*

[The bloodied RickRoll falls to the ground, and Hog rushes to his side, as tears well up in his eyes.]

RickRoll: This...reminds me of the time......in college with Bushie, when.....

Ah hell, I'm going to die, aren't I?  I guess I'll never get to see Mars for real.

(looks intently at Hog) Hog, I'm not going to make it, but there's something I have to tell you.  Something important that you must remember.

[Hog leans in, as RickRoll whispers this to him: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BROWqjuTM0g

Hog nods at him, as if he understands the truth of what RickRoll has said to him, and then the life drains out of RickRoll and he's gone.]

Nym90: (angrily) That man.....was a customer at my bar.  You had no right to do that.

[Nym begins to glow red, as sparks start to come off of his body, and the other moderators back away from him in fear of what's happening.]

Nym90: PERSONAL ATTACK!  YOU ARE PERMABANNED!

[Nym points at the Somali who shot and killed RickRoll, and red lightning bolts pour out of his hand, disintegrating the Somali before him, and reducing him to a pile of dust.  Other Somalis, and Space Bikers, pull out weapons and begin to fire on Nym, but the bullets just bounce off of him, as the red glow that surrounds him acts as a shield.  The Somalis and Space Bikers are flabbergasted by Nym's power, and some of them begin swearing in disbelief.]

Nym90: 10 Points For Profanity 10 Points For Discrimination / Hatefullness 10 Points For Inappropriate Behavior 10 Points For Excessive Hyperbole For Trolling For Personal Attack For Inappropriate PERMABAN For Profanity PERMABAN For Spam For Trolling For Copyright Violation For Personal Attack Permaban PERMABAN PERMABAN PERMABAN PERMABAN PERMABAN For Personal Attack PERMABAN PERMABAN PERMABAN PERMABAN PERMABAN PERMABAN PERMABAN PERMABAN PERMABAN PERMABAN!

[As Nym is screaming these punishments, red lightning pours out of him and disintegrates the bodies of all of the Somalis and Space Bikers, so that only Nym himself, the other moderators, Hog, and the still-caged Blondie remain alive.  The red glow then begins to fade in Nym, and the survivors look on at him in shock.]

Yougo1000: 1939 America is worried about the extermination of women, and Eleanor Roosevelt announces that she's going to run against President Dewey in 1940.

[We now see that Yougo has also survived, as has one of the Space Bikers.  They run for the exit, as the glow in Nym returns, and he begins to raise his arm to strike, when Hog attempts to restrain him.]

Hog: (to Nym) Don't!  What are you doing?  That's just a kid.

[Nym looks back at Hog, realizing what he's done, and relents.  The Space Biker and Yougo make it outside, hop on one of those hovercraft-like vehicles that we've previously seen them use to kidnap Blondie, and fly away.]

Joe Republic: (to Nym) What happened there?  How did you do that?  I didn't know you.....or any of us....had any powers like that outside of the Atlas forum.

Nym90: (in disbelief) I don't know.  I don't know what happened.  I just became very angry when RickRoll was shot, and.....whatever powers I had back in the days of the Atlas forum took over.  I don't know how this could have happened.

Ernest: Well, what's done is done.  We need to get out of here......

[In the background, MasterJedi is freeing Blondie from his cage.]

Nym90: (continuing to stare at the remains of all the people he killed) Yes, yes, you're right of course.  We need to leave, and get back to Oklahoma.  Hog--I know this must be difficult, with your friend having just died, but are you still planning on driving to Salt Lake City?

Hog: (nodding over at Blondie to silently confirm with him) Yes, we're still going.

Nym90: Here.

[Nym hands Hog a big wad of cash.]

Nym90: Congratulations, you won the dance competition.  Here's your prize money.  With RickRoll no longer with us, I guess it all goes to you.

You and the dog should drive back to Blackwell with us, and see if you can at least get a few hours sleep there tonight.  Then wake up early in the morning, and buy gas and food, and anything else you might need.  Then if you're really set on making it to Salt Lake City, try driving straight through tomorrow if you can.  It's a dangerous road, so better if you don't stop.

Ernest: OK, OK.  That's settled, so let's get out of here.

(everyone starts to file out of the warehouse, making their way to the cars they drove to get here, so they can return to Blackwell)

Nym90: Yes, of course Ernest.  Get everyone in the cars.  I'll join you in two minutes.

[Everyone but Nym has left the warehouse.  Nym, alone, continues to stare at the piles of dust that are the remains of the people he killed.  He is entranced by these remains, and sings a song about the "party" he's having as he dances through the ashes of those he "permabanned": http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e4NIF5HuiU4

He looks up, reflecting on the awesome power he has unlocked within himself.]


TO BE CONTINUED....

This is one of the best threads on here. I hope that you will continue it soon.

I'll definitely continue it, but at a slower pace than I started out with.  Real life gets in the way sometimes, and it also gets more complicated to write the story as time goes on, because I have to worry more about continuity.

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 13 "I Do Agree That Sometimes God Speaks Through The Forum"

[We open on Blondie, wandering through an abandoned cityscape.  He's looking around, and he happens upon a handful of black youths, who are soon joined by Mitt Romney.  Romney poses for a picture with the young people, and exclaims....]

Romney: Who let the dogs out?  Who?  Who?

[Here's the video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pwLMUkkyXPo

Blondie was struck by the question.  Who let the dogs out?  Was Romney referring to him, Blondie?  Suddenly, Blondie saw Romney age rapidly in front of his eyes, and turn into a corpse, kind of like this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WtcZv89Hspk

Blondie then realized that he too was aging rapidly, and started to grow a gray/white beard, and then.....

Blondie woke up.  The nightmare about Mitt Romney and the fast aging was just a dream.

He was just waking up from a nap.  He had been sleeping in the back of the Bushie family mobile home, which Hog was driving to Salt Lake City.  They had just left Blackwell, Oklahoma that morning, and were currently in Kansas, soon to pass into Colorado.  Blondie was awakened by holo-Bushie....]


Blondie: Bushie!  You're back.  Why did you leave us for so long?  RickRoll was killed.  Maybe if we'd had you here to guide us, that wouldn't have happened.


[They move to the front of the vehicle to talk to Hog.  After some cursory re-introductions, and apologies from holo-Bushie about having been away for the past day, Bushie begins to explain to both Blondie and Hog the story of the troll territory that they're about to enter in eastern Colorado....]


Hog: OK, OK.  So what are you trying to tell us?  Anything useful?


Hog: Yeah, yeah.  I don't like it either.  It's not much, though I don't really like driving in snow, but Nym told us not to stop because it was dangerous here.

Blondie: Wait, wait a minute here Bushie.  What you say doesn't make sense.  A lot of what you've told us only makes a sliver of sense at best, and it seems like you're not telling us everything.  Why do we need this oracle to tell us what's going to happen?  Aren't you in the future?  Don't you already know how our quest is going to end?  Why isn't this road more dangerous?  The moderators at The Mars Bar seemed to think this trek was suicide, because the road was so dangerous, and patrolled by Islamists.  Now, granted, we've only been on the road in Kansas here for about five hours, and I was sleeping for a decent share of that time, but I haven't seen any Islamists, or any sign of anyone, have you Hog?

Hog: Nope.  No signs of life at all out here.

Blondie: You see?  Where are all these Islamists, Bushie?  We saw those Somalis back on the border with Oklahoma, but nothing since then.  What's going on?

And finally, what is the real story behind your helping us?  You're not telling us everything, are you?  Bushie, when we were in Blackwell, I met a kid there who said that when I went missing back in 2013, that led to everyone hating you for having mistreated me.  Hog said the moderators at The Mars Bar told him the same thing.  They said that America was distracted in the media circus, and it helped lead to the Islamists taking over the western United States.  That's what this is about, isn't it?  That tornado sent us forward in time, and so I was "missing" for all those years.  If we find this time machine, then we go back to 2013, I won't ever have been missing, and maybe things will turn out differently with the Islamists?  Maybe none of this will ever have happened?


[Holo-Bushie is about to fade away as he returns to his holo-imaging chamber, but pauses briefly before doing so.]


[And with that, holo-Bushie disappears again.

Blondie turns to Hog....]

Blondie: Well, that was weird.  Anyway, anything interesting going on up here?

Hog: Nope, just listening to this "book on tape" of Bushie's "Update" while I drive.

[Hog turns up the volume, and we hear the voice of Benedict Cumberpatch reciting from Update....]

Benedict Cumberpatch voice: Bushie writes "Right, it wouldn't have been officially overtime until Thursday and Friday, but now since the OT was cancelled today, I will one hour of OT between 4:00-5:00 pm Friday because of the hour I worked this morning before they cancelled OT."

WalterMitty writes "am i the only one getting the feeling that bushie is screwing up on this job?

i definitely not trying to be mean...but bushie you seem to be sick a lot."

Hog: I don't get it.  What's so interesting about this kid's troubles?  Nothing he does makes any sense.  What's with all these jobs he takes for just a couple of weeks at a time before quitting?  He just learns useless skills at each one, and then does something completely different the next week.  If he hadn't had his parents bailing him out all the time, he would have ended up like me, a hobo.

Benedict Cumberpatch voice: bullmoose88 writes "Not the only one.  I'm surprised they haven't pink slipped him already."

Blondie: I feel like we're not getting the full picture from him.  I don't know.  Something's not right. 

Hog: Well, you can worry to yourself all you like.  I don't really care.  I just care about getting back to 2013, starting up with the orgies again, and maybe helping to fix my memory, and figuring out how to stop being a hobo.

Benedict Cumberpatch voice: AndrewCT writes "It's because they can get around a year out of him. Since he is now a "employee" of Dell, they can have him work for about 6 months, than fire him and not have to pay unemployment, and start the process all over again."

Hog: OK, looks like that gas station that Bushie mentioned is up ahead.

[Hog pulls over at the gas station, fills up the tank, and goes inside to pay....and talk to the "Oracle" that Bushie mentioned.  He brings Blondie inside with him.  As they step inside, they see the gas station attendant at the counter.  He wears a name tag that reads "SAM".]

Hog: Hi there.....Sam?  We're at pump number 2, and would like to pay for that in cash.....But I also hear that you're someone who we should talk to about our future?

Sam: Yes, yes.  You've come here to get my unique insight about the future.  My name's Spade.  Sam Spade.


TO BE CONTINUED....

Thank you for my cameo role Morden. The chap looks a bit impecunious however. What happened to all my dough?  Yes, I know, it is probably held by a conservator because of insentience.

Oh sure, bring up the Atlas' dearly departed, AndrewCT/TX/BIGDaddy.  :'(

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 14 "We Had A Wonderful Time Of Fellowship And Sharing"

[We open on the gas station, where the station attendant has just identified himself as Sam Spade.]

Sam: So, pump #2 it is?

Blondie: Wait a minute, aren't you supposed to tell us something about the future first?

Sam: A talking dog, huh?  I predict a lucrative future as a circus freak.

Hog: Look, we've come all the way from Oklahoma, and we want--

Sam: Ah, Oklahoma.  So you must be a f@ggot.  Where's your husband?

Hog: No husband.  It's just him and me traveling.  [points to Blondie]

Sam: Right, now I get it.  Man on dog. [looks at Hog, and then looks at Blondie]  So I guess you're trying to make it Canada then?  That's where freaks like you like to defect to, isn't it?

Blondie: No, no.  We're trying to get to Salt Lake City.

Sam: Ah, Salt Lake City.  So you want to join that insane cult known as Mormonism.  Figures, since you're a dog.  You already don't have a soul, so you're halfway there.  Maybe you can join Mike Naso's space program, and be the first dog in space to fly off to Kobol, or whatever the frak Mormons think that planet is.....Or maybe it's Xenu?  I don't know, I can't keep them straight.

Blondie: Listen, we're supposed to find some crime boss there named The Irishman.  Have you heard of him?  Can you tell us anything about whether we're going to make it or not?

Sam: Yep, I know exactly what you want to know.

Blondie: You do?

Sam: You want to get to Salt Lake City, which means you need to pass through troll territory, then more Islamist territory before you get there.  You want me to tell you if you're going to make it safely.  Then you want me to tell you if you're going to find this Irishman or not.  And in fact, you'd probably like me to tell you how to find him.

Blondie: Yes!  Yes, that's it exactly!

Sam: Yeah, that was pretty obvious.

Blondie: What was obvious?

Sam: That that's what you want me to tell you, genius.

Hog: Well?

Sam: What do you want now?

Hog: Are you going to tell us what we want to know or not?

Sam: Be patient.

Blondie: What do you mean?  You need time to get some sort of metaphysical inspiration, to help you see the future?

Sam: No, I'm just giving you advice here.  You should be patient.  Try firing up the synapses in that dog brain of yours to work things out on your own.

Hog: You mean you won't help us?  You won't tell us what's going to happen?

[Sam sighs loudly.]

Sam: Look, genius.  You don't need me to help you.  You already have the skills you need to solve whatever problem awaits you.  You can save the world from nuclear annihilation, or whatever it is you intend to do.

In any case, I think it's rather obvious how things will turn out for you, and I'm surprised that neither of you can see it....[pause]....Then again, you're from Oklahoma, so I guess I shouldn't expect much from you.

Hog: Pretend we're idiots then.  Help us connect the dots.

Sam: I've told you exactly what's going to happen.  What more do you want from me?

Look, if things are going the way I think they are, then one of two things will happen.  I think it should be obvious which of those is more likely, but I don't have to tell you that, do I?  I'm sure I'll be proved right, one way or the other.

Blondie: How can you be proved right or wrong?  All you've done is talk in circles.  You haven't actually predicted anything.

Sam: I figured you'd say that.  This conversation turned out exactly how I expected.  From the moment you asked me to predict the future, everything's gone just like I said it would.

Blondie: You didn't know that we were from Oklahoma, or that we were going to Salt Lake City, or that I could talk, and you called us f@ggots.  We had to tell you everything.

Sam: I could try to draw you a picture, to help explain it to you, but I didn't bring my crayons today, so it would be too difficult for you to understand.  Suffice it to say, you'll eventually see that I was right.

Anyway, that'll be $52.95.

[Hog reluctantly pulls out some cash, and pays for the gas.  Then he and Blondie make their way to the door.  Hog opens the door for Blondie, who then trots outside.  Hog is about to exit as well, when Sam calls out to him....]

Sam: Hell, you really are gullible, aren't you?

[Hog stops in the doorway, to hear what Sam has to say.]

Sam: You'll believe anything, won't you?  You came in here, expecting me to tell you your future, because some idiot told you that I would?  There are many liars out there, and you'd better learn to recognize them, if you're going to survive.

Hog: And who are you suggesting is lying to me?

Sam: The biggest liar is yourself.

[Hog retreats back outside with Blondie, and they drive away.  As they pull away, Hog again turns on "Update: A Book on Tape"....]

Benedict Cumberpatch voice: AndrewCT writes "Just work, that's it. I've heard cases on a lot from fairly high known companies that will practice these kinds of operations for call centers and help desks. They will have someone come in as a temp, and if they hire them they keep them for the 6 months, and fire. That way, they don't pay unemployment, and sometimes don't have to pay insurance.  It's pretty sad that they do it, but there is nothing illegal about it. As long as they have reasoning for the termination, they are in the clear."

[Blondie finally breaks the silence on the encounter they just had with Sam:]

Blondie: Yeah....that was weird.


TO BE CONTINUED....

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 15 "There Were Stories Of People Falling Into The Same Trap"

[Blondie opened his eyes, feeling a bit sore, looking up at the sky above him.  Snowflakes were drifting down from the clouds above, but not in any great numbers.  He didn't remember how he had fallen asleep outside, but he was alarmed by the fact that he seemed to be leashed to....something.]

Hog: You're awake.

[Blondie spun around to see Hog, but immediately realized that he can't move very far, because both he and Hog were chained up to a large rock.  They were apparently being held as prisoners by....someone.  As Blondie looks across the landscape, he sees that they're in a canyon which is apparently also a sulfur mine, which looks sort of like this:

()

More disturbingly, the sulfur is being mined by trolls.  I mean, they really look like trolls, kind of like this:]

()

Blondie: What's....what's happening?  Where are we?

Hog: What do you remember?

Blondie: I.....we stopped for gas in Kansas, talked to that crazy "oracle" who worked there.  Then we drove away, and crossed into Colorado.....into troll territory.

Hog: That's it?  That's all you remember?

[Blondie nods.]

Hog: We left that gas station, and kept driving west.  We talked a little about what that Sam character had said, then listened to some more of that "Update" book on tape.  But I actually wanted to listen to the NFL playoff game.  I caught a glimpse of the AFC Championship Game that Sam was watching on the TV in that gas station, and--

Blondie: Can we skip to the important part?

Hog: Right after we crossed into Colorado, we had to slow down because of some speed bumps, as we went over a bridge.  There were trolls who came out from beneath the bridge and surrounded us.  They ransacked the Bushie family mobile home we were driving, and brought us here, and tied us up.  I guess you passed out, and just woke up now.

Blondie: Great.  Everyone wants to kidnap me.  First Space Bikers, and now.....

[A few of the trolls make their way over to Hog and Blondie, and one of them speaks...]

Lead Troll: Ah, you're awake now.  Welcome to the Institute of Sulfur Mining and Extraction.  My name's Hamilton.  This is Atheist2006.  [Atheist nods.]  This is Rochambeau....

Rochambeau: Yes.

Hamilton: This is poundingtherock.

poundingtherock: You two look like welfare cheats.  I'm sure you must belong to the Democrat Party.  Though maybe you're also Mormons.  We're in Colorado, so they're pretty much everywhere.

Rochambeau:
Blondie: What was that?

Rochambeau:
Blondie: There, you did it again.  You're just empty quoting people for no apparent reason.

Atheist2006: Don't mind him.  He just does that to drive up his post count.  If he just empty quotes what other people say, then he can get his count up quickly without any original thought.

Blondie: Well, it's really annoying.

Rochambeau:
Atheist2006: OK, OK.  I'll distract him, and get him out of our way.  [turns to Rochambeau] Rochambeau, I think some of the other sulfur miners might not have been asked their opinion on Grover Cleveland.

[Rochambeau runs across the canyon, yelling at the sulfur mining trolls....]

Rochambeau: Grover Cleveland!  FF or HP?

Blondie: (to Atheist) Thank you.

Atheist2006: He may be a fellow troll, but I've never really liked him.  Since he's from California, he's probably a 's#!c.

I mean, sorry, is that the proper term?  I'm not sure, since English isn't my first language.

And no offense, Hamilton, on that California remark.  I wasn't intending to include anyone from Bakersfield.

Hamilton: None taken.  Anyway, moving on with the introductions, this is LBJ Revivalist.

LBJ Enthusiast: I may belong here as a troll, but I'm afraid that the troll leadership has been guided too much by Tea Party thinking.  When are we going to have decent unions here at this mine, or paid family leave or Social Security?  Should we look to Washington for answers?  I'm afraid Mike Naso's privatization schemes are just going to leave the working class further behind than ever.  What can be done?

Hamilton: Yes, yes.  Your concern trolling is appreciated, as always.  Moving along, this is kobidobidog.

kobidobidog: [to Hog] You're a mammal, just like me.  And just like your canine companion here.  I think your relationship is beautiful.  Whether the two of you have zoosexual sex or casual sex--

Hog: What?!?  Listen, there's nothing sexual about our relationship.  I'm not into Blondie here, and I'm sure he isn't into me either!

kobidobidog: Your dog companion may not be able to speak for himself, but that doesn't mean that he can't consent--

Blondie: But I *can* speak for myself!

kobidobidog: Ah, so you can talk as a human being can....like a canine Mr. Ed?  There's no reason to try to imitate human beings.  We are just animals like you.  I fear that if you try to speak like a human, then you're fighting a war against the Zoo.  But Jesus who is God sees that we are all animals, and--

Hamilton: OK, yes.  Moving right along...and finally, we have JSojourner.

[Hamilton points to the last person in the lineup, but he does indeed appear to be a "person" (a man appearing to be in his 60s) and not a troll.]

Hog: I don't get it.  You're not one of them.  Why are you here with these trolls?

[JSojourner hangs his head in shame.]

JSojourner: I may not be a troll myself, but I am burdened by these.

[JSojourner lifts his hands to reveal two sockpuppets.  Each of his hands is covered by a sock, made up to look like a troll.  He speaks through one of his sockpuppet hands, not unlike this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2k64w3354kE

JSojourner (as KeeptheChange, his right hand sockpuppet): [in fake Pennsylvania accent] I'm sorry, but why are we keeping these prisoners alive?  They look like far left redistributionists.

JSojourner (as Coburn In 2012, his left hand sockpuppet): [in fake Ohio accent] They're probably democRAT Muslim agents who want us to apologize for America, or whatever's left of it.

JSojourner: You see?  This is what I've been reduced to.  I'm here because of these two.

[JSojourner then points both hands towards himself, so that both Coburn In 2012 and KeeptheChange are facing him.]

JSojourner (as Coburn In 2012, his left hand sockpuppet): [speaking to JSojourner himself] You're a collectivist.  You think that you can waltz in here to this sulfur mine, and get hand outs from anyone.  All because your body is attached to these hands.  Well, I have news for you.  KeeptheChange and I are the ones doing all the work here, and you're biting the hands that feed you.

Blondie: [horrified] Ooookaaaay.  Ummmm....you do realize that you're talking to yourself there?  Those are just your own sockpuppets that you're talking to.  What kind of conversation do you expect to have?

Hamilton: [to Hog and Blondie] Never mind him.  Anyway, now that you've met some of my companions, I'll also introduce you to this, the Deluge of Absurdity, Ignorance, and Bad Posts.

[Hamilton points behind them at a giant waterfall.  That is, when Hog and Blondie turn around to see what Hamilton is pointing at, they see that the canyon they're all occupying lies at the base of a large waterfall.  Except that it's not actually a "water"fall.  It's not water that is streaming down from the cliff that towers over them.  It's bits of data.  They see a black mist pouring down from the cliff above them, and falling down through the mist is a stream of green letters and numbers rapidly changing from one shape to another, like this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2x7bdlDr2Kw

The letters and numbers fall onto the ground, and vanish into the Earth.]

Hamilton: This is what we're here for.  You see, my friends, we mine sulfur here, because we want to be able to burn our enemies.  But that's only part of our arsenal.  If we're going to launch an attack on Cheyenne Mountain, we're going to need to troll them with plenty of absurdity, ignorance, and terrible posts.  The Deluge here offers us a reservoir of all of the awfulness ever posted on Atlas.

[Hamilton pulls out an iPad, with a blank screen, and sticks it in the "Deluge", then pulls it out, with text newly appearing on the screen.

Hamilton: [Reading from the iPad] "What happens if there's truth to the lesbian love affair rumors?  Let's say Hillary seals the nomination and somebody comes forward claiming they were in a lesbian relationship with her. Well, what happens then?

We all know her marriage is a sham, and these rumors have followed her for over two decades now..."

I believe that post was actually written by Politico, back in 2013.

Atheist2006: What Hamilton is getting at here is this: The landscape throughout this part of the state is covered with trolls.  There are trolls, spambots, and sock accounts of every shape and color you can imagine.  But this valley is the gathering place of a very particular kind of troll.  We're the surviving trolls from what was once the US Election Atlas forum.

Many of our kind didn't make it.  Nym killed many of us during the dark days, in the final years before the plug was pulled on Atlas.  But those of us who survive have never given up our dream.....to sieze control of Atlas, and make it a safe environment for trolls of all varieties to wreak havoc as we see fit.

Hamilton: [getting emotional] The moderators, those war criminals, never let us be who we really are on that website.  Well, the game isn't over yet.  The last surviving copy of the Atlas website is being held at the NORAD installation in Cheyenne Mountain, just south of here.  The only remaining military installation controlled by the US government in this state.  When we've extracted both the necessary sulfur and the requisite supply of terrible posts from this valley, we'll attack Cheyenne Mountain, and sieze the Atlas, reconstituting it on the internet, as a place for trolls across the globe, under the administration of Atheist and myself.

Hog: That's crazy.

Hamilton: What?!?  You're calling me crazy?  That's a personal attack!  And it's excessive hyperbole!

[Hamilton looks around, and then yells up at the sky:]

Hamilton: Moderators?  Can we have a moderator here?  I want to report this poster for a personal attack!  We need a moderator here to deal with this immediately!

Blondie: What are you yelling about?  Why are you asking for a moderator?  I thought you hated moderators.

Atheist2006: If you really must know, you filthy son of a b!t(h, Hamilton is a bit of a split personality on that one.  He hates the moderators, but complains to them about the activity of other posters at every opportunity......[pause].....

I mean, sorry if I offended you by calling you a "filthy son of a b!t(h".  English isn't my native language.  What I said doesn't sound so bad in German.


TO BE CONTINUED....

To be honest, Torie, I haven't thought through that bit very carefully.  Though, I guess, in my timeline, when law and order started to break down in the Western US, including California, people started to make a mad dash for any place where there was still a semi-functioning government, and a lack of roaming bands of Islamist radicals.  You and other moderators in the US made your way to Oklahoma, and it's unclear how many of your assets you were able to take with you.

I guess, yes, most money nowadays is "virtual", and even if the bank burns down, they still exist on paper, so you should hypothetically be able to access it, but....who knows?  A lot of craziness has occurred in the USA in this timeline, so someone with $ in 2013 could have lost it by 2029 for any number of reasons.

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 16 "I Know I Fall Short In Many Areas"

[We open at the Institute of Sulfur Mining and Extraction.  Hamilton is repeating his plea for a moderator to intervene, to punish Hog for calling him crazy.]

Hamilton: [pleading] Can we please have a moderator here right now?

Atheist2006: Easy, Hamilton.  There are no moderators around here.  You're wasting your breath.

[And with that, we see Nym casually walk up to the group, seemingly coming out of nowhere.]

Nym90: Someone here called for a moderator?

[The trolls react in shock.  Nym is here???  Blondie smiles, hoping that Nym, with his great powers, will rescue him from these trolls, just as he rescued him from the Islamists and Space Bikers the previous evening.]

Nym90: You want a moderator, you say?  Well, I'm happy to infract or mod review or ban anyone who's wronged you, whether by trolling, or excessive hyperbole, or whatever their transgression may have been.  Then I'll eat a big bowl of grapes!

[Atheist2006's expression goes from fear to relief.]

Atheist2006: Blubb, you're mixing up your characters again.  "Big bowl of grapes" is from one of your spoofs of Bushie.

["Nym" suddenly morphs into a troll.]

JSojourner: You ruined the joke, Atheist.  You should have just let him keep going, and seen how long it took for everyone else to figure it out.

[Blondie and Hog are looking very confused at this point.]

JSojourner: (explaining to Blondie and Hog) This is Van Der Blubb (pointing to the troll who just second ago looked and talked like Nym).  He's a troll, like all the rest of them.  But he's able to morph into, and imitate, any current or former Atlas poster.

[Van Der Blubb bows, as many of the trolls continue to laugh at his prank.]

Hamilton: OK, OK.  I admit, that was a good one.  All right, I think I'm OK now.  I won't cry for help from a moderator again for at least a few minutes.

Now....(turns to Blondie and Hog) we just got done telling you two about who we are.  But what about you two?  Why are you here?  Where were you driving?  Why were you driving out here, on your own, with no protection?

Blondie: We were headed to Salt Lake City.  Looking for a crime boss there named The Irishman.  have you heard of him?

Hamilton: Actually.....I have. 

There are Mormon missionaries that pass through here every once in a while.  They're trying to convert the Islamists, but they inevitably get themselves killed.  We don't bother them much, since they distract the Islamists, and keep them off our back.  Last couple of times we saw them, they had a kid with them named Yugo something.  He said something about some fugitive in Salt Lake City named the Irishman, who was in hiding.  The kid said that his father or guardian or something wanted to find the Irishman, because it was important for the history of the country, or some such nonsense.

Atheist2006: Never liked Mormons myself, or any other autochthonous American religions.  Maybe if we had parties like Die Freiheit or Pro Deutschland here in this country, then....

Hamiltion: That's enough, Atheist.  Let's not get on that again.

Blondie: So, sounds like you've heard of the Irishman then?  So if you let us go, then you can tell us where to find him?

Hamiltion: Of course not.  I don't know where this Irishman is.  And even if I did, we're not letting you go.

Blondie: (nervously) Why, what do you want with us?

Atheist2006: We intend to recycle you.

Hog: What???

Atheist2006: Yes, you heard me.  Recycling.  Every captive we take gets chopped up, and thrown into the Deluge, so that their organic matter can be reprocessed into terrible posts.

Hamilton: Well, not quite every captive.  Those who are suitable get turned into trolls.

Blondie: Turned into trolls?

Atheist2006: Yes, yes, you stupid canine.  You don't think we always looked like this do you?  We were human beings, just like your empty-headed friend here.  But with so much time spent trolling, we gradually transformed into literal trolls.  We're open to taking new recruits, but you and your friend are too clueless to understand the first thing about trolling.

Hamilton: (shrugs) Meh, wouldn't hurt to give them the test though, would it?

Atheist2006: I guess not.

OK, you two.  How about this question?  (clears throat) What do you think caused 9/11?

Blondie: I'm just a dog, I don't know anything about 9/11.  I'm only a few months old, and wasn't born yet in 2001.  Don't ask me.

Hog: I'm afraid I don't remember 2001 either.  I have amnesia.  Everything before 2008 is kind of a fog.

Hamilton: Holy f*(k, that was pathetic.  That's not how you troll at all.

Blondie: What?  I don't understand.  That was the test?

Hamilton: Someone asks you about 9/11, and there are a million different ways you can go.  You can give a Truther answer and deny the official government story.  You can go off on how all Muslims are terrorists, or on how the US shouldn't be letting anyone in the country anymore, or say that Americans deserve a bloody nose like 9/11 because of Imperialism.

Atheist2006: Or for that matter, you can change the subject entirely, and insult the mother of the person asking the question, or whatever you have to do, in order to be obnoxious.  But you absolutely do not just say that you don't remember.

JSojourner: Actually Atheist, maybe that would be trolling.  If they *do* remember 2001, it's an absurd dodge and attempt to deflect the question, which could be trolling.  I mean, "I have amnesia"?  Sounds like he was trolling, if you ask me.

Hamilton: That's a ridiculous excuse for trolling, JSo!  And why are you butting into this?  Atheist and I were conducting this interrogation.  You can't start in on this discussion thread!

[He yells up at the sky again....]

Hamilton: Moderator?  Can we have a moderator here immediately?  I have another complaint to make!  We want JSojourner out of this thread!

Atheist2006: Come on Hamilton, do you have to keep asking for moderators?  We haven't been on Atlas for years, there aren't any moderators around.  It's like you have PSTD, or PMSTD, or whatever it's called.  Post-traumatic.....I don't know what it's called.  English isn't my native language.

But that doesn't matter.  The important thing we've concluded from this is that these two (points at Hog and Blondie) would make terrible trolls, so we should just chop them up right now, and throw their remains into the Deluge.

LBJ Enthusiast: I'm afraid I can't allow that.

Atheist2006: What?  Who asked you?  You're not in charge here.

LBJ Enthusiast: That is.....if they're going to die, then their next of kin are going to need Social Security survivor benefits.

Atheist2006: (*sighs*) Once we set up our Troll Atlas, we'll sell premium memberships, and send some of the proceeds to their families.  It'll make up for whatever they would have gotten in Social Security survivor benefits if the US government was still operating out here.

LBJ Enthusiast: OK then, fair enough.  Go ahead and chop them up.

kobidobidog: Once you do that, if any of you wants to perform a sexual act with the dog's remains---if you are necrozoophiliac so to speak---I wouldn't judge.  That's not really my thing, but I don't think any of us would judge you for it.


TO BE CONTINUED....

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 17 "You Can't Focus Your Eyes Too Long On One Or The Other Otherwise You'll Crash"

[We open, again, at the Institute of Sulfur Mining and Extraction.  Atheist2006 has just reiterated his desire to chop Blondie and Hog up into small pieces, and recycle their remains in the Deluge.]

Blondie: (nervously) Can't we talk about this?

Hamilton: There's nothing to talk about.

Unnamed Troll: Oh, but I think there is, Hamilton.

[Everyone turns to see a new troll standing before them.]

Unnamed Troll: Like why you don't deserve to be on the $10 bill, and why you didn't wear a bullet proof vest when duelling with Aaron Burr.

[The troll then morphs into a Japanese man.  Never mind how you can tell that he's Japanese.  Let's say that he's wearing a t-shirt with a map of Japan, colored dark green.]

Van Der Blubb: What's this?  Another shapeshifter?

Unnamed Troll....who's now a Japanese man: That's right.  You can call me Twister.  Heh, "Twister" perhaps a bit ironic, considering what happened to this dog's dog house (points to Blondie).

Blondie: What?  How do you know about that?

Twister: I know a great many things.  I've been working for the NSA for many years.  I'm especially familiar with all of you trolls here, having used my many sock accounts on the US Election Atlas forum to keep tabs on all of the criminal activity going on there over the years.

[Atheist2006 thinks for a moment, then has a moment of realization...]

Atheist2006: Yes, I remember you.  Aren't you a sock of A--

Twister: (interrupting) Please, please.  There's no need to say my name.  But suffice it to say, I'm quite familiar with all of your exploits.  I'm able to shape shift as well as your friend Blubb here, which allowed all of my sock accounts to evade detection for so many years on the Atlas forum.

I was on there for ages, and was able to report back to NSA on a broad range of criminal acts, from the widespread copyright violations perpetrated by posters around the world who improperly quoted online news articles, to the gold price fixing scam being run by J.J., to the intelligence operation being run by the PLA agent codenamed v0031, who was trying to gather information on proper English grammar to be taught to Chinese spies.

So yeah, I know who you all are, and have been watching you trolls from my posting at NORAD in Cheyenne Mountain.

Hamilton: Cheyenne Mountain?  Really?

Twister: Yes, yes.  And I know all about your pathetic plan to attack us there.

Hamilton: And you risk your life by coming here?  That's pretty bold.  What would give you the thought that you'd make it out of here alive?

Twister: What would give me the thought?  Do you even know what a thought is?  A "thought" coming from you is like pork coming from a cow.

But if you really want to know why I'm confident, it's because I knew I'd be safe here due to my coattails.

Atheist2006: Your coattails?

Twister: Yes.  My sudden appearance here provides such a strong jolt to the narrative of this story that it has coattails.  My friends are following me onto the scene on those coattails.....or should I say, megacoattails?

[Three costumed heroes quickly descend onto the scene from the skies.  They are an 86 year old man, a 76 year old woman, and a thirty something year old man.]

Twister: These are my associates, the Moderate Heroes: former US Senator Joseph Lieberman, former US Senator Susan Collins, and Benconstine.

Susan Collins: I'm delighted to be here, Mr. Twister.  Thank you all for joining us here tonight.  I think it's important that we make our voices heard here today, because trolling is an important problem that affects everyone in America.  Whatever moderate course of action can be taken to save an innocent's life from a troll is a step worth taking.

Joe Lieberman: I'd like to echo the words of my friend from across the aisle.  If these trolls are threatening the lives of any American, then we cannot sit idly by.  Though we must calibrate our response with moderation.

(turns to Hamilton, who is now wielding a large butcher knife) Now, Mr. Troll, what is it that you intend to do to this poor man here, and his dog?

Hamilton: We're going to slice them up into a million pieces.

Joe Lieberman: I see....you would like to slice these two into a million pieces?

Hamilton: Yes.

Joe Lieberman: (points to Hog) And you and your dog would presumably each like to remain in one piece?

Hog: Yes, of course we would.

Joe Lieberman: Then the perfect moderate hero solution would be for you to be sliced into 500,000 pieces!

Blondie: What?!?  How is that a perfect solution?

Joe Lieberman: It's perfect because neither of you quite gets what you want, but we get an outcome which is halfway in between your two preferred courses of action.

Hog: Well, 500,000 or 1 million pieces is equally terrible to us.

[Lieberman thinks for a minute.]

Joe Lieberman: Ok, Ok.  I have a much better solution.  You two (points to Blondie and Hog) would like us to save you from these trolls.

(to Hamilton) And you.....how many of you trolls would you use to chop them up into a million pieces?

Hamilton: Well, I think quite a few of us would like to get in on the act.  So maybe four.....myself, Atheist, Van Der Blubb, and poundingtherock.

Joe Lieberman: Ok then, here's the solution.

[Lieberman raises his hands up in the air.  He yells out....]

Joe Lieberman: By the power of Lowell Weicker and Dick Lamm!  Let us make a less than bold move for fairness and opportunity!  Extremism in the defense of liberty is a great vice!

[The sky darkens, and a bolt of lightning comes down from the heavens, electrifying first Atheist2006, and then poundingtherock.  While it doesn't seem to do any physical damage to them, they are immediately restrained in chains, and their mouths gagged.  They struggle to free themselves, but get nowhere.]

Hamilton: What....what have you done?

Joe Lieberman: I've used my moderate hero powers.  You said that four of you would kill Mr. Hog and his canine companion.  Now only two of you can do so.

Hog: How does that help us Senator?!?  Whether it's two of them or four of them doing it...either way, we'll still be dead!

Blondie: (exasperated, to Lieberman) I don't think you're really helping us here at all.  I mean, this is ridiculous.  These guys want to kill us.  We don't want to be dead.  There is no middle ground.  You three (motioning to Lieberman and the other two Moderate Heroes) seem to have enormous power at your disposal, and could save us if you wanted to.  Either you want to help us or you don't.  If you try to split the difference, you're just going to end up letting them kill us, so it's totally useless!

Benconstine: With respect, I don't think you appreciate our point of view here.  Every day, we turn on our televisions, and see Washington in gridlock.  Nonstop partisanship.  We must look out there across America, and recognize that no one political party or ideology has a monopoly on wisdom.  There's a little wisdom in every point of view.  If we can simply take all of those points of view, and find the midpoint between all of them, then we can use that midpoint as the basis for a more perfect society.

Hog: Ugh....that doesn't help us with our current situation.

Twister: Yes, yes.  I hear you.  My Moderate Hero friends here seem to have planted their flag on the middle ground between talking to a brick wall and talking to an nkpatel.


TO BE CONTINUED....

It's a shame that one of my main (pun intended) moderate superheroes does not know thw difference between effect and affect..

Fixed.  ;)

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 18 "I Will Be Roughing It Sorta"

[And we again open on the Institute of Sulfur Mining and Extraction.  Benconstine has just explained his Moderate Hero logic, leaving Blondie and Hog exasperated about how the Moderate Heroes won't save them.  Or at least, will only partially save them.]

Twister: OK, OK.  I think I can help you guys out on this one. (pause) So Susan....

Susan Collins: Yes, Mr. Twister?

Twister: I understand that these two innocents here would like to be saved from these trolls.  Perhaps you could ask Senator Droopy Dog over there to use the Power of Grayskull to wrap all these trolls up in straightjackets, and leave them trapped here for eternity?

Susan Collins: That sounds like a rather extreme response, Mr. Twister.  May I suggest a more moderate course of action?

Twister: You may.

Susan Collins: We wrap them all up in straightjackets, but leave them there for just a limited period of time.

Twister: Not quite as far as I would have liked you to go, but I can live with that.

[Collins nods to Lieberman, who raises his hands up in the air, and yells out....]

Joe Lieberman: By the power of Angus King!  Let us confront our political opponents by adopting half of their ideas!

[Before any of the trolls can react, straightjackets rise up from the ground, and trap them inside.  They're unable to escape, and their mouths are covered as well, so they can't talk.  Within moments, every single troll in the Institute has been straightjacketed.

Twister then moves over to Hog and Blondie, and begins to release them from their own restraints.]

Hog: Thank you!  Why didn't you just do that to begin with?

Twister: I don't know, boredom?  Cheyenne Mountain isn't exactly Excitement Kingdom, so when faced with a challenge, I like to take my time with it.

[Twister has now finished releasing both Blondie and Hog from their restraints.]

Twister: So what were you two doing out here anyway, that you managed to get yourself kidnapped by the trolls?

Blondie: On our way to Salt Lake City.  We're time travellers, looking for a way back to 2013, and we understand that someone in Salt Lake City called the Irishman has a time machine.

Twister: Salt Lake City, huh?  I've been tracking W--, I mean, Fredward's movements there.

Hog: Fredward is in Salt Lake City?

Twister: I'm pretty certain of it.  Finding him has been a bear, because he hasn't been seen in person or on video for years.  I mean, he makes some appearances in Islamist propaganda videos, but it's not really him.  It's pretty obvious holographic fakery.

So I've been trying to track him down.  He has a number of bunkers spread out throughout the western USA....that is, what used to be the USA, but is now held by the Islamists.  Salt Lake City's contested territory, but if my intelligence is right, he's hiding out in a bunker several miles east of the city, directly below the Olympic park left there from the 2002 Winter Olympics.

Hog: But you said you're part of the NSA, right?  So if you know where he is, why don't you tell the president or something, and have him take out Fredward?

Twister: Ha!  The president?  You want me to tell Naso?  I know he was just sworn in and you'll tell me that I should give him a chance, but I can assure you that he'll be even more useless than President Winfrey was.  If Naso tries to send anyone in to take out Fredward, he'll probably either nuke the place, or inadvertently tip off Fredward that he's coming.

No, we--that is, the Moderate Heroes and I--we may technically work for the US government, but they abandoned us out here years ago, when they pulled out of Colorado, and let it be overrun by Islamists and Trolls.  We've been holed up in Cheyenne Mountain, on our own, continuing to do our work as best we can.  The only thing that's kept us alive is this.

[Twister reaches into his coat pocket, and pulls out a flash drive.]

Blondie: What's that?

Twister: The US Election Atlas.  The website's been offline for over a decade, and this is the last confirmed remaining copy, as far as I know.

Blondie: OK, I may not be as worldly as you....I'm only a dog, and don't know how most things work....but please explain how a website can save your life.

[Twister sighs, and puts the Atlas back in his pocket.]

Twister: Simple.  With all the detailed voting and demographic data in here, down to the precinct level, one can plan an effective insurgency--or counter-insurgency--that's very specifically suited to a particular geographic area.  With help from the Atlas data, we've been able to fend off every troll attempt to attack Cheyenne Mountain.

Hog: Come on....Let's get real here.  An election atlas is going to do all that?

Twister: You'd be amazed by what Dave Leip had at his disposal back in the day, which was available to those with premium memberships.  It's all in the Atlas.

And that's why Fredward was so successful as well.

Hog: Huh?

Twister: It was the Atlas data.  I know it was.  He helped to organize the Islamists when they were taking over the Rockies, and he made use of data which is only in the Atlas.  I'm sure of it.  And I believe he's still using it today.  It's the only way they've been able to defend themselves from the US military.  Somehow, he must have access to that information that was stored in the Atlas all those years ago.  There may be another copy of it that he's holding on to, though I'm not exaclty sure of the details.

But that's why I've been working to track him down.  We can't let him get away with using that information if he's not paying the annual subscription fee anymore.

[Blondie and Hog just nod their heads.]

Twister: That last part was a joke.

[silence]

Twister: The subscription fee isn't important, it's just that....do I have to explain everything to you?

[more silence]

Twister: Yikes, you two are rather humorless, aren't you?

Blondie: Sorry, Mr. Twister.  But if you're after Fredward, and he's in Salt Lake City, then why don't you come with us?

Twister: I don't know about that.  The road to Salt Lake City is pretty dangerous.  It's a tough journey.  See those mountains over there? (points to the west)  Without a car, how are you going to get across those?

Now, you could try going through the Mines of Moria, but otherwise you'll have to go far over the Misty Mountains rise.  Leave us standing upon the height.  What was before, we see once more, is our kingdom, a distant light.

[blank expressions from Blondie and Hog]

Twister: Lord of the Rings?  The Hobbit?  Does what I just said ring any bells for you?

Hog: I'm a hobo.  I don't get to see many movies or read many books.

Blondie: And I'm just a dog....a puppy who's only been alive for a couple of months.  What do you expect from me?

Twister: Oy.  This isn't exactly a fellowship that's going to make Fredward tremble in fear.


TO BE CONTINUED....

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 19 "I Don't Have The Best Resume"

[And we again open on the Institute of Sulfur Mining and Extraction.  Twister has been telling Hog and Blondie about how difficult it'll be for them to get to Salt Lake City.]

Twister: OK, look, I'm not going to go to Salt Lake City myself, but I can get the Moderate Heroes to fly you there.

Blondie: Fly us there?

Twister: Yes, you saw them fly down here, didn't you?  They have moderate superpowers, and can fly hundreds of miles in a matter of minutes.

Benconstine: Excuse me....I  don't think it would be appropriate for us to fly these two all the way to Salt Lake City.

Joe Lieberman: I'm forced to agree with my colleague here.  Though perhaps we could fly halfway?

Twister: OK then, how about this for a counterproposal?  You fly in the direction of Salt Lake City, but you actually go twice as far?

Joe Lieberman: No, I'm afraid that's too extreme for us.  We'll take them to Salt Lake City.

Twister: I see.  (sarcastic) Maybe not what I was hoping for, but it'll have to do.

Hog: (to Twister) You really won't come with us?

Twister: No, no.  I'm sorry.  Too dangerous for me to confront Fredward head on.  But look....

[Twister pulls out a piece of paper and writes something on it, then hands the paper to Hog.]

Twister: This is the contact info for one of our agents.  She's one of the best of us.  If you get into trouble there, use this to call on her, and maybe she'll be able to help you out.

Blondie: You *really* aren't coming?  Mr. Twister, I'm sorry, but what are you going to do, hide out in that mountain forever?  You've located the most wanted man in the world, and you're not going to do anything with that information?

Twister: Once we have a president who can tell the difference between his hair and a hole in the ground, I'll happily turn over all the information I have on Fredward and the Islamists.

Blondie: You're not even curious enough to go there in person, and check out your leads?  To see if your information is correct or not?

Twister: (sighs) OK, look, I don't want to argue.  (pause)  Fine, I'll go.  Just to check out if there's anything to what my sources have told me about the situation out there.

Susan Collins: OK, it's settled.  We'll take you halfway to twice the distance to Salt Lake City.

Blondie: You mean, you'll take us all the way to Salt Lake City?

Susan Collins: Yes, that's a cruder way of putting it.

[Collins scoops Blondie up in her arms.  Twister holds on to Liberman, while Hog hold on to Benconstine.  The Moderate Heroes then take off into the sky, with Blondie, Hog, and Twister in tow.  Their takeoff is sort of like this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aLpwUhAvFzg

The trolls look up, still in straightjackets, watching the Moderate Heroes fly away.  Hamilton looks worried that they've been left there to die.

And then a few more minutes pass.

And a few more minutes.

And a few more minutes.

The trolls remain trapped in their straightjackets, unable to escape. 

Senator Collins had suggested that the straightjackets wouldn't trap them there forever.  Does that mean that they're programmed to be released at a certain time?  The trolls would never find out, because a few minutes later....

....the snowfall has increased in intensity, and it's getting darker as afternoon fades into evening.  But Hamilton hears a sound, and looks off into the distance to see a few pickup trucks pulling up.  The passengers get out....at least 7 or 8 men, no women.  They're far enough away that he can't make out who they are just yet, but then they start to open up their jackets, revealing....

The first man to open his jacket has a t-shirt with a red Michigan on it.  The next has a lime green Nevada, then a dark green Austria, then a lime green South Carolina, etc.

Hamilton is shocked.  It's his nightmare come to life, as he sees Nym and the other moderators before him.  The other trolls don't have much better reactions, but all of them are trapped in their straightjackets with gags in their mouths, and they can neither escape nor scream out.

The mods finally approach the trolls.  Nym looks down on Hamilton with a smile on his face.]

Nym90: Well, well, well.  I knew there were trolls here, but *this* is a pleasant surprise.

Ernest: (to Nym) What are you doing sir?  This is a distraction from the mission at hand, to reclaim the copy of the Atlas held at Cheyenne Mountain.  You've already used your powers liberally to defend us from Islamist attacks on the drive up here.  Do more need to die today?  These trolls appear to be neutralized, and pose no threat to us.

[Nym turns to Ernest, looking incredulous.]

Nym90: Hamilton?  Atheist2006?  We have before us some of the most notorious trolls in Atlas history, all of whom featured prominently on The Watch List.  If anyone deserves to suffer the most extreme administrative penalty that Mr. Leip has made available to me, surely it is them?

[The glow of the red Michigan on Nym's shirt begins to get brighter, and his hands begin to glow red as he prepares to strike the trolls....

...the camera slowly pans up the Deluge and away from both the Trolls and moderators, and as we pan up, we see a red flash coming from off camera, and hear the screams of the Trolls....presumed to be their death screams as Nym wipes them out with his powers.

Then the camera pans high above the mountains, and quickly zooms hundreds of miles to the west, finally reaching Utah.  It then plunges down towards the Olympic Park, east of Salt Lake City.  We shift to an underground bunker there, deep beneath the Earth, zoom through the hallways, passing by statues of Olympic athletes.  We see a few robots who are walking the halls, who look a bit like the battle droids from The Phantom Menace:

()

We finally settle on......Bushie's holographic imaging chamber.  Yes, the holo-imaging chamber that we saw at the end of Episode 11 is here, in this bunker.  We again see a figure who's cloaked in shadow because of the poor lighting, but who sounds like Bushie, talking to a mysterious voice offscreen (who again, is the same mysterious voice as in Episode 11). ]

Mysterious Person: Please hurry up, Bushie.  Hog and the others will be arriving in town shortly, and your holographic alter ego needs to be ready, to give them a proper "greeting".

BushOK: I'm sorry sir.  But the lighting in here is so poor, that it takes me a while to get the holographic imaging set up properly.

Mysterious Person: Yes, yes.  Congratulations Phil to you for noticing the obvious.  The lighting throughout this illustrious facility has always been terrible, going all the way back to when it was controlled by our dearly departed Mr. Fredward.

BushOK: OK, well I'm almost ready.  I hope this won't take too long, because I'm missing the NFC Championship Game for this.

You said that it's not just Hog and JJ coming, but also Aizen?

Mysterious Person: Yes, that is correct.  A remarkable stroke of luck that we shall be able to take custody of him as well.  But Mr. "Hog" is the important one.  With his help, I do hope to be able to find that Xerox lab, and take control of Muon's time device.  And you know what that means, don't you, my dear Mr. BushOK?

BushOK: That my contract will be fulfilled, and I won't have to work for you anymore?

Mysterious Person: You amuse me greatly, Bushie.  My sincerest congratulations to you for making me laugh.  But please be serious here.  Siezing that time machine means that we'll finally be able to SECURE THE PRESIDENCY OF THE UNITED STATES FOR GOVERNOR ROMNEY.

BushOK: You really do like that bold and caps lock, don't you Mr. Winfield?

[The camera reverses off of Bushie, and now points in the other direction, at the "Mysterious Person", who is now revealed to be Winfield.....smiling from behind his monocle.

And as we fade out to the closing credits for this episode, in homage to Twister's "Misty Mountain" reference from the previous episode, we get a rendition of "Song of the Lonely Mountain":

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UJwyW9ngLNg    ]


TO BE CONTINUED....

I never thought of Winfield as Mr. Peanut.

It's a meme that dates back to the original "Congrats Phil" thread:

https://uselectionatlas.org/FORUM/index.php?topic=127693.msg2716928#msg2716928

Also:

https://uselectionatlas.org/FORUM/index.php?topic=165724.msg3539138#msg3539138

Meh.  Monocles are for rich snobs is an old-fashioned stereotype.  You're far more likely to come across a hipster wearing one than someone like Winfield these days, and even then it would be rare.

Very good.

MORE!

It's an Atlas meme nonetheless, and I'll justify it on the grounds that fashions have changed by 2029. :P

In any case, I give you the season finale of the first season of HOG & Blondie below.  Yes, the season finale.  I've realized as I developed the story that it got much bigger than I anticipated, so I've broken it up into two seasons, so the following is the season finale of the first season....

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 20 "It Will Definitely Be A Challenge, But It's Easily Overcome"

[We open on a large room in the NORAD bunker in Cheyenne Mountain.  The room is filled with maps of the surrounding region, and is ringed by a balcony stretching around three out of the four walls.  There are no US government agents left here.  Twister and the Moderate Heroes are the only agents who still work here, and they've left for Salt Lake City, along with Blondie and Hog (as seen in the previous episode).

Instead, the facility is being occupied by Nym and the other moderators, having just forced their way in, with the aid of their moderation powers.  Nym is alone in this room (well...almost alone....Tender Branson stands silently, guarding the door), as he pores over the maps.  Ernest and Inks enter the room, interrupting him....]

Ernest: Sir, we've completed the search of this facility.  We are indeed alone here.  No government agents, at least not now.  Also no sign of the Atlas.

Nym90: But you said that there were signs of people living here fairly recently?

Ernest: Indeed, sir.  Still living here today.  Just not present right now.  I believe they were here as recently as this afternoon.  Inks may have uncovered their destination.

Inks: It's the Moderate Heroes.  They apparently have the superpower of flight, but I know where they went off to.  They registered their flight plan on flightaware.com.  It's the same website that jmfcst used to track former Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin back in 2008, when he broke the news that John McCain selected her as his running mate.

Anyway, their flight plan shows that they're headed for Salt Lake City.

Nym90: Excellent work, Inks.  So, we'll make our way to Salt Lake City, then.  How quickly can we load up the cars?

Inks: We don't have to go by car, sir.  This base includes an aircraft that can be used for evacuation in case of emergency.  We can use it to fly to Salt Lake much faster than we could drive.  Beet's reading the instruction manual right now, and should be ready to fly it shortly.

Nym90: Very good.  We can leave as soon as Beet is ready.  In the meantime, Inks, I want you and the others to continue searching this facility, to see if you can find any more information here that might help us better understand what we're up against with the Moderate Heroes.

Inks: Understood, sir.

[Inks and Ernest begin to leave, but as Inks walks out the door, Nym stops Ernest from exiting with him.]

Nym90: Ernest, a word?

Ernest: Yes, sir?

Nym90: He is a remarkable fellow, isn't he, Ernest?

Ernest: You mean Inks, sir?

Nym90: Yes, of course I mean Inks.  No offense to you Ernest, but he's the most capable of any of you.

Ernest: If you say so, sir.

Nym90: (laughing) Oh come now, Ernest.  I'm not insulting you here.  I don't mean it like that.  And don't worry.  Your position as Deputy Modadmin is secure.

No, Inks is the most technically capable of you.  But he has no leadership capabilities.  He will never be a leader of men, as he is neither decisive nor charismatic.  If he were to somehow become Deputy Modadmin, he would never be able to challenge me, as you have.  He would never question my orders, nor rally other moderators to his side.

Ernest: (confused) Is that a backhanded compliment, sir?  Have I challenged you in a way that is inappropriate?

Nym90: No, not at all.  But I would appreciate your counsel just now, Ernest.  I can understand that my actions today may seem curious to you.  I need you to tell me if I've lost my mind.

[Ernest pauses for a second, as he collects his thoughts.]

Ernest: Your plan is sound, sir.  After you discovered last night that you still have moderation powers, even in the "real world" outside of Atlas.....that we all have them.....well, it only made sense.  These moderation powers could be useful to the US military, in trying to take back the western US.  If we turn over this last copy of the Atlas, and allow them to study both it and us, then perhaps they can weaponize such powers, and turn them against the Islamists.  It's a sufficiently tantalizing possibility for President Naso, that we may be able to trade our cooperation for clemency for the crimes we committed in the 2010s.

Nym90: So you don't think I'm crazy then?

Ernest: The idea is sound.  (pause)  However......I do find your decision to bring us here in person a bit curious.  We could have negotiated our surrender from Oklahoma.  As for the Atlas, even if we're cut off from US-controlled territory here, I'm sure the military could have found a way to access this facility, given the stakes.

(long pause) And also.....

Nym90: Yes, Ernest?

Ernest: I understand that you didn't really mean to kill all those people last night.  The Somalis and the Space Bikers.  But then....those who you killed with your powers today.  Yes, self defense on the way up here, when we were attacked by Islamists.  Though I don't know that it was necessary to respond with lethal force, when you could have simply placed them on moderator review.

Nym90: We couldn't linger on the road up here Erenst.  No time to babysit Islamists on mod review.

Ernest: And then those trolls you killed just an hour or so ago.  Hamilton, Atheist2006, poundingtherock, Rochambeau....

Nym90: Some of the worst offenders in Atlas history, all of whom I would have disposed of years ago, if I'd had the opportunity.

Ernest: If you say so sir.

Nym90: But you don't approve?

Ernest: Sir, do you remember what you said just yesterday, at the Mars Bar, when we were talking to Hog and RickRoll about what we had to do as moderators back in the 2010s?

You said that you never imagined how Dave giving you those Modadmin powers would change you.  That you were like a wild animal who needed to kill...like a lion.  Well, now you have those powers back.  And more than that, you can use them in the real world, outside the confines of the Atlas.  Are you sure it isn't having a similar impact on your mental state now?

Nym90: (pause)  I see.  Well, I'm sorry you feel that way, Ernest.

[Tender Branson is still standing guard at the door.  Nym nods to him, and he leaves the room.]

Nym90: Let me explain something Ernest.  I haven't told the others about this yet, but I thought that you should know.

The reason that I wanted us to secure the Atlas ourselves, rather than negotiate our surrender from Oklahoma, is that I want to know exactly how much leverage we have.

Ernest: Sir?

Nym90: We've just now discovered that our moderation powers can be used in the real world, outside of cyberspace.  If we get ahold of the Atlas, and study the admin powers locked within it.......well, who knows what other abilities we might unlock?  Certainly something to consider, before blindly surrendering ourselves to US law enforcement.

[Ernest is struck by a realization....]

Ernest: You have no intention of negotiating with President Naso, do you sir?  You never did, did you?

No, now that you've realized that your moderation powers are so much more powerful than you thought they were, you just want to get that Atlas back, so you can see what additional powers it'll give you.  That's all you want, isn't it?

Nym90: (his tone shifting, now that his true colors have been revealed) You think I'd hand that power over to Mike Naso, and allow him to become Modadmin?

Ernest: Not Modadmin, sir.  He's president of the United States, whether you or I like it or not.  What would you have us do with these moderation powers, if not turn the technology over to the US government?

Nym90: The same thing Naso would do with it, but more competently.  If the additional mod powers we can unlock from the Atlas are as far reaching as I imagine they are, and if we can re-connect it to the internet, well....we could easily defeat this Islamist insurgency on our own, couldn't we?

Ernest: Sir, we did what we had to do 15 years ago, because of the extreme circumstances we faced.  But this?.....This is vigilanteism on the grandest scale.  You want us to give ourselves super powers, so we can fight an entire war on our own?  And if we are successful, then what?

Nym90: The United State government and its citizenry will be enormously grateful to us for defeating their enemy.  And we will be in an excellent position to negotiate.

Ernest: To negotiate a pardon for the crimes we committed as moderators?

Nym90: That will be the least of what we can negotiate.  Having crushed our enemies so thoroughly, we will have demonstrated the superiority of a system of rules based on the Atlas Forum's Terms of Service.  Imagine, Ernest.  With the help of the internet to spread our influence, an entire worldwide system of global governance based on Dave Leip's Terms of Service.  Enforced by my moderators, with myself as Modadmin.

Ernest: This is madness, sir.  You want to remake the world in the image of the Atlas Forum, and set yourself up as ruling despot?  You're descending into cartoonish super-villainy.  Dave never would have wanted us to use our moderation powers in this way.

Nym90: DON'T TALK TO ME ABOUT WHAT DAVE WANTS!

Dave named *ME* Modadmin, Ernest.  Not you.  Me!  I'm the one who had to defend his Atlas from trolls for all those years.  I decided who lived, and who died.  My hands were soaked in blood, and where was Dave?  Why did he leave me to my own devices, and never intervene?  Why didn't he answer my PMs?  No, if Dave ever had a problem with how I performed my duties, he could have revoked my Modadmin status at any time.

[pause]

But I'm afraid you'll never understand that, Ernest.

And so I'm going to have to remove you as an Atlas moderator.

Ernest: You're going to de-mod me?

Nym90: Of course not, Ernest.  You know I can't do that.  Only Dave can.  I have no way to remove your mod powers, as long as you're alive.

[And now we see Tender Branson again, but he's up on the balcony.  He's just gotten out a cello, and he begins to play "The Rains of Castamere": http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OVOf6HEur5Y ]

Nym90: None of the remaining moderators is likely to challenge me, Ernest.  When you're gone, I'll have a free hand to use my moderation powers as I see fit, in the way that *I* think Dave would have intended.

[Ernest is left speechless....and begins to back away from Nym.]

Nym90: You know Ernest, there are a few things that you've said in this conversation that I consider infractable.

[The D-MI avatar on Nym's shirt begins to glow, and his hands glow red as he lifts them to strike.]

Nym90: You said that I was delivering a "backhanded compliment"....FIVE infraction points for personal attack.

[Red electricity jets out of Nym's hands, striking Ernest square in the chest, and causing him to flinch.]

Nym90: You described my plan as "cartoonish super-villainy".  EIGHT infraction points for personal attack.

[Nym fires more red electricity at Ernest, this time knocking him back a few steps, but he stays on his feet.

Then Ernest manages to advance a few steps.]

Ernest: That's ticky-tack moderation, sir.  I'm going to have to reverse those points.

[Ernest powers himself up, as the I-SC avatar on his shirt begins to glow green.  He motions his right index finger up slightly once, and then twice, and his infraction points are reset to zero.]

Nym90: I'm the Modadmin, Ernest.  You're going to remove infraction points that I've given you?

Ernest: You're going well outside the established norms of moderator behavior, sir.  Forgive me if I do the same.

Nym90: I see.  If that is how you wish to play......then I'm sure I can find other infractable comments you've made over the years.

As I'm sure you're aware, the Update isn't *quite* the only bit of the Atlas forum that we still have access to.  There is also the complete posting history of every moderator, as compiled by Inks several years ago, to be used in court in the event that we were ever charged for the crimes we committed in moderating.

[Nym pulls out a small mobile device, presses a few buttons, and we now see a holographic representation of the entire posting history of all moderators floating between Nym and Ernest.]

Ernest: Yes.  And as you are surely aware, I can use the same file to find infractable posts by you.

Nym90: And since we're dispensing with the standard norms of moderation procedure, I assume that you won't feel compelled to only infract posts of mine within your own jurisdiction?  In US Presidential Election Results, Constitution and Law, and History?

Ernest: No, I don't suppose that I will.

[Tender Branson now starts playing Duel of the Fates on his cello: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_ZqYrxTEeus

And in fact, you should listen Duel of the Fates while you read the next sequence, to help set the mood.....

Nym and Ernest square off against each other.....Nym's hands glowing red and Ernest's glowing green as they stare each other down.....sort of like Peter and Sylar at the 20 second mark in this video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WPVjtjlG970

The camera zooms in on each of their faces, as they stare each other down, hands glowing, with the holographic representation of their posting histories floating between them.  It looks like they're about to lunge at each other as Tender Branson's playing of Duel of the Fates intensifies, and then......

And then......

Rather than actually engage in a physical confrontation, they both rapidly start scrolling through each other's posting history.  The holographic representation of the posting history is manipulated by their rapid finger movements, sort of like the game "Stratagema" on Star Trek, as seen at the 1:10 mark in this video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZIOEklxc_yY

They scroll through the posting history, looking for posts with the tiniest sliver of justification for being punished with infraction points.  As soon as one of them finds such a post made by the other, he sends a jolt of electricity to his counterpart, indicating the issuing of infraction points.  Each of the two mods has to carefully balance the time spent looking for infractable posts by his adversary, giving them infraction points, and healing themselves from their own infractions.

The flurry of infractions goes back and forth at lightning speed...]

Nym90: 3 points for "lol"ing at an insult to pbrower, Personal Attack....

Ernest: 2 points for posting too many paragraphs of an article about Supreme Court nominations, Copyright Violation....

Nym90: 2 points for seeming to agree with a BRTD post, Trolling....

[The pace of infractions, and reversals of infractions, is so fast that the two seem to be consumed in a swirl of red and green light.  The room itself starts to shake, and this gets the attention of the other moderators, who were in other rooms within the facility, but now most of them run in, joining Tender Branson on the balcony.

Ernest is distracted for a moment by the other moderators, and Nym makes his move, hitting Ernest with a 10 point "Excessive Hyperbole" infraction that manages to knock him onto the ground.  The nearby map table is likewise thrown on its side, on top of Ernest, pinning both of his arms to the ground.  Tender Branson ceases his cello playing.]

Nym90: You're at 45 points, Ernest.  Just five away from mod review.  And you can't lift your arms to remove those points, can you?

[Ernest struggles to free himself, but he's exhausted, and is unable to move.]

Ernest: (his words now dripping with contempt) You don't need to put me on mod review, sir.  You're the Modadmin.  You can ban me whenever you like.  You've just been toying with me, haven't you?

Nym90: (smiling) Just making sure to do everything by the book, in compliance with my mandate as Modadmin.

[Ernest, still trapped, manages to turn his head to the other moderators, who watch from above in stunned silence.]

Ernest: Will none of you put an end to this?  Will none of you stop this madness?  Listen to me!  He's lost his mind.  While he's distracted by me, any one of you could hit him with a 50 point infraction, and he wouldn't have time to react.

[But the other moderators just stare down at both Ernest and Nym, not making a move.]

Ernest: Are all of you cowards?!?  You're going to keep following his orders?  He's going to lead you all straight to Hell!

Nym90: Not "cowards", Ernest.  Just decent enough not to inflict a punishment meant for sock accounts on their Modadmin.  As for you....

[Nym takes another step towards Ernest.]

Nym90: Describing my actions as "madness", saying that I would "lead my moderators to Hell".....FIVE infraction points for excessive hyperbole.

[Red electricity comes out of Nym's hands, and Ernest, still lying on the ground, is engulfed in a translucent red sphere.  He's on moderator review, which means that whatever he says can now only be heard by Nym, and Nym decides whether it's communicated to the outside world or not.]

Ernest: (his voice muffled by mod review) Nym, please!  Think about what you're doing here.  It's just a website for election maps!  You're going to kill me over this?!?  Killing those trolls was one thing, but once you do this to me, you've taken it to another level.  There'll be no going back for you.

[Nym hears him, but the other moderators don't.  He takes another step forward, and stares Ernest down.]

Nym90: It's my birthday, Ernest.  And we're going to have a birthday party.

[More red electricity pours forth from his hands, engulfing the mod review bubble.]

Nym90: Ernest, you have repeatedly violated the Terms of Service with your attacks on the character of the Modadmin.  You are PERMABANNED from the Atlas forum....and this life.

[The mod review bubble collapses in on Ernest, and his body is reduced to dust.

We now focus on Inks, who is watching with the other mods from the balcony.  He stares down at the remains of Ernest in horror, trying to process what he's just seen.

Nym, now weak and bloodied, looks up to his fellow moderators.....]

Nym90: My friends.....I regret to inform you that Ernest has been permabanned, and will no longer be in a position to serve as a moderator.  In his absence, I would like to congratulate my new Deputy Modadmin.....Inks.LWC!

[The moderators clap, to celebrate Inks's promotion, but the camera again zooms in on Inks's face.  He's still looking down on the remains of Ernest, with a blank expression on his face.

As we fade to black, the song playing over the end credits is a reprise of "The Rains of Castamere", this time with lyrics: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ECewrAld3zw ]


TO BE CONTINUED....

OK, so that's it for "Season 1".  When I started this, I foresaw maybe 20-25 episodes or so.  But then as I started planning things out in more detail, I realized that the story was too big to fit that length.  It'll be something more like 40 episodes total when it's done.  (Though I can't say the exact number yet for sure.)

This seems like a good place for a break, so I'm calling that Season 1.  I'll come back with more after a bit of a break.  Not sure when exactly Season 2 will start.  It'll be at least a month from now, and more likely won't start until January, after the X-mas / New Year's holidays.  I just need a bit of time to plan things out in more detail.  In Season 2, our heroes finally arrive in Salt Lake City, and all the various plot threads start to merge.  I already know what happens in outline form, but it gets sufficiently complicated that I might have to plan out each individual scene from now until the end before I start writing any actual scripts.  Hence, the break.

Meh.  I wouldn't be trying to place those powers in the hands of the Federal government.  No, clearly such powers are better reserved to the States.

So long as you don't go on a writers' strike.

Great season.

Keen to see what happens in Salt Lake City.

Can't believe I missed the obvious "True Federalist" joke.  Oh well.  Can't think of everything.

First, one small stylistic change.  There'll be several cases this season in which we shift around between different scenes within an episode.  For simplicity, I'll now try to summarize the setting for each new scene in italics, before the scene begins.

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 21 (2x01) "It's Not Just the Future I Have to Think About"

[The season begins with a new opening credit sequence.  It plays at the beginning of every episode, but I'll only describe it at the beginning of this, the season premiere.  In subsequent episodes, you can just imagine it on your own.  So here are the opening credits:

The credits play similarly to the "Game of Thrones" opening credits, making use of the same theme song:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s7L2PVdrb_8

...and zooming in and out of a big map.  But in this case, it's a world map of the Earth, and when we zoom in, we see different red and blue shadings, based on past election results.

So we start with a big map of the USA, and zoom in on Salt Lake City, UT, cycling through all the elections since 1896, the first presidential election in which Utah was a state.  As we zoom close in on the city, you can see the individual precincts, and the colors change between red and blue, depending on which party won each precinct.  Then we zoom back out, and the precincts blur together into a single color for the state.  We next retrace our heroes' journey in Season 1, but in reverse, going through Colorado, Kansas, then Oklahoma.  Always stopping to zoom in and see the individual precinct shadings.

Then we pan across the map to Washington DC, zooming in there, to see all the elections since 1964, when DC was first able to vote in presidential elections.

Then we zoom back out, and pan across the "Narrow Sea" of the Atlantic Ocean, finally reaching Kenya, where we zoom in, and see the various shadings of Kenyan elections, until we finally cut away to the title screen of "The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie".

June 2013, an empty field somewhere in Oklahoma

[We see RickRoll standing in the field, speaking with a young man, who looks like he's in his early 20s.]

RickRoll: What did you say your name was again?

Young Man: PiT.  Or rather, PiT (The Physicist).

RickRoll: And PiT (The Physicist), you want me to do WHAT?

PiT (The Physicist): (sighs) Exactly what we discussed when I first contacted you.  I want you to take this pill (holds it up in his fingers), then walk over that hill (points) on the other end of which you'll find the mobile home belonging to the Bushie family.  You do know Bushie, right?

RickRoll: Yes, as I said before.  I know him from college.

PiT (The Physicist): Right.

RickRoll: But you don't want me to say hello to Bushie?

PiT (The Physicist): No.  He's not even there right now.  He's in Kenya.  His parents are still in town, but you shouldn't say hello to them either.

You should just sit under their oak tree, and go to sleep.  The pill will keep you in hibernation for the next 16 years.

[RickRoll stares at the pill.]

RickRoll: Right, that's the bit I'm worried about.  You said you cooked up this pill based on instructions you got from your boss in the future?

PiT (The Physicist): Well, sort of.  The "Irishman", as we call him--he's not exactly my boss.  I'm just a summer student, working for a physicist named Muon2.  But you could say that the Irishman is sort of our benefactor.  Anyway, neither of them even knows that I'm here, doing this.

RickRoll: Because the future version of this Irishman told you not to say anything to his present version?

PiT (The Physicist): Exactly.  He told me that there was a tornado that ripped through here yesterday, and that it sent a hobo and a talking dog into the future, to the year 2029.  He then told me that this hobo and talking dog were going to need your help in the future, so he gave me instructions for how to make this pill, and told me to arrange for you to use it to hibernate until then, so that you could then wake up in 16 years, and help them out.

He was right about that tornado.  Predicted that, even when the forecasters were doubting, so I'm going to trust him on everything else.

RickRoll: But that doesn't make any sense.  If he has a time machine, then why doesn't he just pick me up, and take me to the future?

PiT (The Physicist): Ah, well yes, I can see why that might be confusing.  That's where my own current research comes in.  You see, it turns out that humans lose much of their memory when they travel through time.  Unless you want your brain to be cooked when you make the trip, you'll have to take the pill, and just hibernate for the next 16 years.

RickRoll: But if you lose your memory when your travel through time, then how could this Irishman remember what he was doing when he traveled back to see you?

PiT (The Physicist): Let's just say he's special.  So how about it?  Are you going to do this or not?

RickRoll: This whole thing is pretty sketchy....reminds me of this time in college, when Bushie mixed up his heart medication with my allergy pills, and....

PiT (The Physicist): Are you going to do it or not?  [Again, holding up the pill to RickRoll.]

[RickRoll then grabs the pill out of PiT's hand, and stares at it again.]

RickRoll: I guess I can't really turn it down.  I've always wanted to travel into space, but technology isn't moving fast enough now.....if I could slow down my ageing to a crawl for 16 years, maybe I could skip ahead in human history a bit, and end up somewhere where space travel for the common man is more realistic......So yes, I'm going to do it.

You say you just want me to help out this hobo and this dog?  That's the bargain?  After that, I'm free to do whatever I want?

PiT (The Physicist): Yes, that's right.

Oh, and I almost forgot.  There's one other thing about the hobo that I should warn you about......

January 2029, the exterior of a burned out, abandoned building on the outskirts of Salt Lake City.  All around the building, we see a series of raging gun battles between US military commandos, local crime gangs, and Mormon militias.

We now switch perspective to the interior of the building, where we see Hog, Blondie, and Twister, huddled together in the basement, bracing themselves as the building occasionally shakes, due to all the explosions from the fighting outside.

Twister: (sarcastically) OK, so we have no idea where in this town we're supposed to find this Irishman fellow?  Because I think we've searched this basement pretty thoroughly.  Which of you wants to volunteer to go out and check the yard?

Blondie: Sorry, but I'm just a dog.  I wouldn't know how to handle myself in a war, or whatever it is they're doing out there.  I'd probably just dig a hole and hide.....might as well do that in here.

(to Twister) So you don't think the Moderate Heroes are coming back for us?

Twister: Nope, not a chance.  You've seen how they are.  They'll only meet you halfway on something, and it was a trick just to get them to take us this far.

Hog: Never mind them, what about Bushie?  He's supposed to be guiding us here, and what does he do?  Have us come to this city to look for this time machine, not telling us where to look when we get here.....and he's gone missing.  He hasn't appeared to us since this morning.  Where is he now?  He's left us here to die!


[Holo-Bushie has appeared, and the trio react to his appearance.]

Hog: Bushie?  Where the frak have you been?  You abandoned us again, and we were kidnapped by trolls.


Hog: So you're not even going to try to make up an excuse this time?  Where have you been?  You said you were going to "worship service", but how long ago was that?  10 hours ago?


Blondie: OK, fine Bushie.  It's just that you're supposed to be guiding us to this Irishman person, so that we can get home.  If you don't check in on us all day when we're in hostile territory, bad things will happen.


Blondie: All right, well then, before we go on, maybe we should introduce you to Twister here.


[Blondie pauses in thought for a second as Bushie offers his greeting.]

Blondie: Actually.....wait a minute.  Twister, you can see him?

Twister: Yep.  Sure can.  Hello Bushie.

Blondie: Bushie, I thought you said that only Hog plus children under 5 plus animals plus people who went to college with you could see you in this holographic form.  What gives?


Twister: I may have been a "professor" at a number of institutions, but I'm fairly certain I would remember you, Bushie.


Twister: Bushie, you're like Barack Obama, starting to pack up his belongings in the White House before the 2012 election, just in case he loses, and has to move out.


Twister: You're planning for things that may never happen.  There's a war out there or something.  What's happening in this city?


[Twister shoots Bushie a suspicious look.]


Twister: Bushie, what are you on about?  You know why these troops are here today, attacking the militias in the city, but you won't say?  You made up some pathetic story about who can see your hologram, but got called out on it?  You called me Aizen, even though I was introduced to you as Twister?

And then......you said that there were important football games on today.  But you're supposed to be talking to us from August 2035.  What important games are on in August?

No, I don't think you're even telling the truth about projecting yourself from the future.  You're talking to us from *today*, January 21, 2029, aren't you?  Today's the NFL conference championship games, and those are the games you were watching, weren't they?

[holo-Bushie is clearly flustered, and now finally erupts in anger:]


[holo-Bushie now looks over to Hog and Blondie, who are now staring at him in disbelief.]


[holo-Bushie's face seems to change again now, as if he's taking off a mask and revealing his true colors.]


[holo-Bushie turns around, looking towards the entrance to the basement.  Two robots, not unlike those we saw in Episode 20, come down the stairs, and enter the room.  They are both armed.]



TO BE CONTINUED....

I'd think t_host1 would be a better choice for a robot companion than pbrower2a,

I haven't read much of t_host1, so I wouldn't be able to replicate his posting style.  And pbrower's weird posting style involves coming up with crazy maps, which I think I'll incorporate later.

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 22 (2x02) "He's Not Getting To Me, So I'm Fine With It"

July 2008, Mitt Romney's mansion in Boston, MA

[It's night time, and Mitt and Ann Romney are in bed.  Ann is trying to get to sleep, but Mitt is wide awake, staring up at the ceiling.]

Ann Romney: Willard, what's wrong?  You look distracted.  You have that big interview with Sen. McCain tomorrow, which could get you on his final running mate short list.  Shouldn't you be getting some sleep?

Mitt Romney: Gosh Ann, you're right.  You're as right as the indefinite detention of terrorist suspects at Guantanamo Bay, or the definition of marriage as the union of one man and one woman.

But I can't sleep.  Not after Winfield showed me what the internet was saying about me today.

[Ann now looks concerned.]

Ann Romney: What are people saying?

Mitt Romney: Well, Winfield didn't want me to see it, but I happened to look over his shoulder, when he was at the computer, browsing this online forum that he frequents, "US Election Atlas".  It's run by a local boy here in the commonwealth of Massachusetts, Mr. David Leip.

Anyway, I saw what was on Winfield's screen.  It was a discussion thread that one of the regulars on that forum started, titled "Aizen's unbiased analysis of Mitt Romney" (https://uselectionatlas.org/FORUM/index.php?topic=79279.0).

Ann Romney: I see.  And what was this "unbiased analysis"?

Mitt Romney: (tears welling up in his eyes) The author of that discussion thread said......

That is, he *wrote* the word "bad" 541 times.  And then he wrote "LOL".  And then "bad" again, another 134 times.

Ann Romney: L-O-L?

Mitt Romney: That's what the kids today are saying in their "instant messagings" and "you tubes".  Winfield tried to spare my feelings when I questioned him about it, but I looked it up later.  "L-O-L" stands for "laugh out loud".  The author of that thread was laughing out loud at me, after having written "bad" 541 times?  Do you realize how much he must hate me in order to type that out so many times?

Darn it all, Ann.  Darn it all to heck.  I just cannot fathom how I could inspire so much vitriol in people.  It's kind of a non sequitur, if you will, and what I mean by that -- or a null set.

Ann Romney: (sympathetically) Willard, you don't know who this person is, do you?  It's just one man's opinion.

Mitt Romney: Gosh, Ann.  I understand that.  But this fellow was from Colorado, a critical swing state.  Not only that, but his "avatar" was red, which as we both know is a color that has represented the Republican Party in the popular press since at least the 2000 election.  I can't imagine that Mr. Leip allows just anyone to voice his opinions on that fantastic website of his.  So I can only conclude that this fellow is a fairly representative Republican from the great state of Colorado.

Ann Romney: I'm sorry Willard.  I really am sorry.  What did you say this young man's name was again?

[We now have a close up on Mitt Romney's face.]

Mitt Romney: His name is Aizen.

January 2029, the interior of the Salt Lake City building at which the previous episode ended

[Bushie has just threatened Blondie, Hog, and Twister with the two robots who just entered the room.  The first of the two robots, nkpatel1279, introduces himself:]

nkpatel1279: During the 2010 Senate election cycle. the vulnerable DEM seats were
AR-Lincoln, CA-Boxer, CO-Bennet, CT-OPEN,DE-OPEN-before O'Donnell,IL-OPEN,IN-OPEN,NV-Reid,ND-OPEN,PA-Specter/Sestak,WA-Murray,WV-OPEN,and WI-Feingold.
ND and IN were Solid Republican takeovers the moment DEM incumbents Dorgan-ND and Bayh-IN announced their retirements. Lincoln-AR was guarenteed to lose the moment Boozman-R announced his challenge.  Democrats became less vulnerable in CT-when Dodd retired, Blumenthal became the nominee, McMahon-R was the GOP nominee. and DE-when O'Donnell won the GOP nomination. WV-Manchin-D was popular and Raese was gaffe prone.
The open DEM seats in IL and PA which pitted generic DEM vs generic REP. was basically a tossup. In IL the DEM nominee was damaged goods and in PA it was the national environment.

[Then it's pbrower's turn:]

pbrower2a: In a 2008 US presidential election scenario in which Giuliani is the Republican nominee, but a conservative third party candidate runs as well, you end up with:

()

Obama     411
Giuliani       66
Third Party candidate    71

Third Party, essentially conservative with a Southern base. Obama wins everything that he won in real life + MO, MT, AZ, WV,  NE-01 and MS.

The conservative vote splits enough to allow Obama to win West Virginia; conservatives split the white vote in most of the South but only enough to allow Obama to win Mississippi in a 38-32-30 split. Texas gets a similar split for Giuliani, where George Bush actively campaigns for him. That's the elder George H.W. Bush, of course. Georgia barely goes to the Southern conservative in a similar split.

Blondie: What is this about Bushie?  I don't understand.


Hog: (to Bushie) Why you vile piece of.......you've been lying to us all along.  About everything!


[Hog hurls a rock at Bushie, but of course it passes right through him since he's a hologram.

Nonetheless, nkpatel reacts, by approaching Hog, now aiming his weapon]

nkpatel1279: Going into 2010, Dan Hynes was challenging Pat Quinn in the Illinois gubernatorial primary.  The only time Hynes faced a tough primary was the 2004 IL US Senate Race when he made a poor 2nd place showing against Barack Obama. Quinn has a mixed record of winning and losing primaries. He first ran for Statewide elected office in 1986- Treasurer challenging a current and former State Treasurer in the primary- He finished a close 3rd place finish. He narrowly won the 1990 IL State Treasurer's position in both the primary and general election by a 56-44 percent margin. In 1994- Quinn gave up the Treasurer's position to run for Secretary of State against George Ryan- in a pro Republican Year and Jim Edgar being on top of the ticket. Quinn lost by a landslide margin. Quinn made a comeback in 1996 for US Senate-lost in primary to Dick Durbin by a landslide. He narrowly lost in the primary for Lt Governor in 1998. He ran for Lt Governor again in 2002- won a three way primary with 42% of the popular vote. The Blagojevich-Quinn ticket won the Governorship in 2002 and re-elected in 2006. Quinn became Governor in 2009 after Blago's impeachment and removal. Had Lisa Madigan ran- she would have defeated Quinn in ther primary--

[And then, as nkpatel continues to ramble on, a large explosion rocks the entire building, and debris falls down from the ceiling, some of which hits Hog and renders him unconscious......]

Winfield's bunker, interior hallway

[Hog is on the edge of consciousness.  He's walking through this unfamiliar hallway, except.....no, not walking exactly.  He realizes that he's essentially being dragged through the hallway by the two robots he encountered in the basement.

Oddly enough, he can see a young kid in his peripheral vision....it's Yougo1000, who he recognizes from the warehouse in Arkansas City (Episode 12).]

Yougo1000: 1983 Time travel is invented.

2013 Hog and Blondie go forward in time to 2029.

2029 Hog helps Winfield find the time machine, and Winfield uses it to make Mitt Romney president of the United States.

[Finally, the robots take Hog to some kind of jail cell, open the door, and toss him in.

holding cell in Winfield's bunker, interior

Hog lies on the floor in pain, but looks up and sees that the cell is actually rather spacious.....and includes a large table with several maps sprawled over it.  A bearded man with pale skin who appears to be in his 50s sits at the table looking over the maps, but gets up when he sees Hog.  He walks over to Hog, to help him to his feet.]

Man: Do I know you sir?  You look familiar.

Hog: Not as far as I know.

Man: Well, forgive me if I'm speaking out of turn here, but you don't look well.

Hog: No, I guess I wouldn't look well.  Not after being betrayed by Bushie.  Maybe if I'd been more successful in attacking him back in 2013, he wouldn't be alive today, and....

Man: Ah, User Number 1387, yes, he comes to visit me from time to time.  Never had any problem with him myself.

[Hog looks around, absorbing his surroundings.  Still clutching his injured right shoulder with his left hand, as he sits down.]

Hog: I don't know what happend to my friends.  A man and a dog.  They were with me when we got attacked....but there was some kind of explosion and I lost consciousness.

Where am I?  What is this place?

Man: Fredward's Salt Lake City bunker.  Or at least, it used to be Fredward's bunker, but he's been gone for a long time.  Probably dead.  I don't know, as I've been in captivity here for some time, and don't know everything that's going on in the outside world.  User Number 287 (aka "Winfield")....he's the one running this facility now.

Hog: And who are you?

Man: Oh, my apologies.  I meant to introduce myself.  I am the Atlas administrator, Dave Leip.

Thanks,
Dave


TO BE CONTINUED....

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 23 (2x03)  "I'm Tired Of Feeling Pathetic"

Summer 1995, Mitt Romney's mansion in Boston, MA

[A teenage Winfield is arguing with his mother in the kitchen, as she attempts to cook dinner.]

Winfield: But mother, these summer school classes do nothing to offer intellectual stimulation, nor do they provide me with any depth of knowledge in the subjects in which I am most interested.

For example, I have been attending this history course for weeks, and we have yet to spend one day discussing the public offices held by presidential and vice presidential candidates.

In addition, I regret to inform you Mother that in the days since the passing of the late Governor Romney of Michigan, my classmates have been teasing me about my association with the Romney family.  They claim that the late governor was bad for racial minorities, simply because he was a Republican!

Mother Winfield: Now listen to me, Winfield.  You'll just have to stand up to those bullies.  You need to educate them about their civil rights history.  You must never forget that it was a Republican who freed the slaves!

Winfield: But mother--

Mother Winfield: I don't want to hear it, my son.  You know how to argue with those people.  Just engage them in the same fashion that you do so on Usenet, or whatever other online medium is in use here in the year 1995.  You know, use creative adjectives, break things up into short paragraphs, with a good deal of bolding, capitalization, and underlining.

If those hoodlums try to disparage Gov. Romney's civil rights record, well.....you just remind them that Gov. Romney marched with the late Dr. Martin Luther King.  Master Romney saw it with his own eyes!

Winfield: (changing the subject now) Mother, what will become of us?

Mother Winfield: What do you mean, dear?

Winfield: You saw how Master Romney reacted when he received news of his father's passing.  He was no longer the same man.

I find that I can barely contemplate a world in which Master Romney does not stand above the Earth like a towering colossus, the master of all that he surveys.

But now......he lost the election to Sen. Kennedy in November, and now his father dies, leaving him a shell of his former self?  How can our lives have meaning from this point onwards?

[Mother Winfield is about to say something in response, but they both hear a car pulling into one of the many driveways on the Romney estate.]

Mother Winfield: What do you know?  That must be them coming right now...your father and Master Romney, returning from the funeral in Detroit.

January 2029, Winfield's bunker, interior holding cell

[Dave Leip has just introduced himself to Hog, as the Atlas administrator.]

Hog: The Atlas administrator?  So you ran that website that Update was posted on?

Dave: Ah, so you're familiar with Update?  Yes, I was the administrator of that website, though I left the day to day maintenance of the forums to the moderation staff.  I was not even aware of this "Update" until User Number 1387 informed me of it.

Thanks,
Dave

Hog: User Number 1387?

Dave: My apologies.  I am referring to BushOklahoma or "Bushie", as you referred to him.  As I said, he comes to visit me in this cell, from time to time.  I know him as User Number 1387, because that was his designation on the Atlas forum.

Thanks,
Dave

Hog: Well, either way, he betrayed me.  And by the way, if you are the administrator of Atlas, I guess I met some of your former moderators yesterday in Oklahoma.

[Dave hangs his head in shame.]

Dave: It is a great tragedy.  I entrusted User Number 11 (that is, Nym) with the forum, but.....as I understand it, he abused his power greatly from 2014 onwards, in response to the troll invasion.  I'm afraid I was unable to do anything to stop him, as I was held hostage by User Number 287 (Winfield).  User Number 11 and the other mods kept PMing me for assistance--and to his credit, User Number 287 did deliver to me every PM that was sent to my Inbox while in captivity here--but I was not allowed to respond.

Thanks,
Dave

Hog: So who is this Winfield then?

Dave: He was working with Fredward at first, but as I said, I haven't seen Fredward in years, so I think User Number 287 is now running the Islamist insurgency himself.

Thanks,
Dave

Hog: So Winfield is a bigtime Islamist then?

Dave: Oh no, no, not at all.  He's not even a Muslim.  You see--

[And at that moment, an nkpatel1279 unit approaches the cell door and opens it, announcing.....

nkpatel1279: [to Hog] You will be escorted to the infirmary to receive medical attention.

[The cell is open, nkpatel1279 grabs Hog by his right arm, which causes him to wince in pain.  But nkpatel1279 leads him out of the cell, closing and locking it behind him, to leave Dave alone once again, with his maps.  nkpatel marches Hog down the hallway.]

nkpatel1279: Also.....
During the 2000 election 3 1994 Class Republican US Senators lost re-election.
Abraham-MI who lost to Stabenow(D)-a generic DEM challenger due to Gore coattails.
Grams-MN- an accidental rightwing conservative from DEM leaning swing state- Lost to Dayton.
Ashcroft-MO- lost to the recently deceased popular Governor Mel Carnahan.......

outskirts of Salt Lake City, exterior cityscape

[We see much of the city in ruins, as it's largely been destroyed in battle.  We focus on one building in particular, as a few of Winfield's robots are entering from the street......

.....and then we pan back to a pile of rubble, about 100 yards away.  Blondie peers through the rubble, staring at the building that the robots just entered, but trying to hide from the view of anyone who might be watching from that building.

Blondie was separated from the others earlier, when the ceiling collapsed in that basement of the building where they were confronted by holo-Bushie and the robots.  He didn't see what happened to Twister, but when the dust cleared, he was able to chase down nkpatel1279 and pbrower2a, who were carrying Hog's unconscious body across town to this location.  Blondie stayed far enough behind them that he didn't think they saw him, but he did see *them* enter this building that was now before him.  What was he going to do?  Try to rescue Hog on his own?

Blondie was lost in his thoughts, when he heard a sound behind him.  Sounded like there was some rubble shifting around, so he turned his head to take a look, and he saw.....

.....a man in a ski mask, who held a rag in front of his face, which he shoved into Blondie's face.  Blondie noticed that the rag smelled terrible, and it caused him to lose consciousness......]


TO BE CONTINUED....

When does Russ Powers make an appearance?

No promises on that one.  I'll have to think about it.  The timeline here obviously diverges from real life in the summer of 2013, when there's the SCOTUS ruling on gay marriage, so Bushie doesn't stick around in the USA to go through the CAD class.

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 24 (2x04) "I Got An Unexpected Surprise"

Summer 1983, Mitt Romney's mansion in Boston, MA

[Winfield, as a toddler, is coloring in his coloring book of maps.  He's in one of the first floor rooms of the Romney estate, working on said coloring, as a caged dog in the corner of the room looks on.  His mother enters the room, and starts picking up Winfield's US president flashcards, which he's left sprawled all over the floor.  She scolds young Winfield:]

Mother Winfield: Winfield!  You know better than to leave all your toys out on the floor here!  Your father and Master Romney do business in here all the time.  They won't appreciate your untidiness.

Winfield: My apologies mother.  But I believe that in a contest of contributions to the entropy of this humble abode, I am not the worst offender here.

Mother Winfield: Yes, I know that the Romney children are messy as well, but we're just servants here, Winfield.  You should just be grateful that Master Romney lets you live here with his family.

[Winfield now looks at the dog locked in the cage in the corner of the room.]

Winfield: Mother, I have greatly enjoyed playing with Seamus in the past.  Good dog, loyal, refuses to be intimidated, knows many tricks.

Why is he no longer allowed to come out of his cage?  Please discuss.

Mother Winfield: Oh, Winfield.  You know the answer to that.  Seamus has reacted badly to the experimental drugs he's been getting.  That's why the Romneys are taking him along with them on their family trip to Canada next week.  There's a special vet there who'll be able to check him out.

[This answer seems to satisfy Winfield....his mother leaves the room, and he goes back to coloring his maps.  We then pan over to the dog, Seamus, in the cage in the corner of the room, who stares at Winfield intently.

We continue on Seamus, as we hear Mitt Romney and another man enter the room, locked in serious conversation.  They barely seem to even notice either Seamus or Winfield, as they continue to talk amongst themselves.  We pan over to Winfield, who continues to color his maps, and pays no attention to Romney or the other man.  Romney drops a binder on the coffee table, and he and the other man then leave the room.

And then.....Seamus speaks:]

Seamus: (whispering, so no one can hear him in the other room) Winfield?

[Winfield turns to face the dog, looking nervous.]

Seamus: Yes, Winfield, I can speak.  I'm a dog, yet I can speak.  I know you heard me the other day as well.

[Winfield just stares at Seamus, nervously, not understanding what's going on.]

Seamus: You're not going to tell anyone else I can speak, are you?  It's just our secret, isn't it?  In any case, they wouldn't believe you if you told them.

[Winfield continues to stare back at him, still in shock over the fact that a dog is talking to him.]

Seamus: OK then, here's what I want you to do.  Pick up that binder, and bring it to me here in this cage, so I can skim through it quickly, before anyone else enters this room.

[Winfield stares at the binder that Mitt Romney just dropped onto the coffee table minutes ago.]

Seamus: You heard me.  Pick it up, and bring it to me.

[Winfield picks the binder up hesitantly, then slowly marches it over to Seamus's cage, before sliding it through the bars to reach him inside.  Remarkably, Seamus, despite being a dog, is able to thumb through it quickly, and reads through the contents of the binder.  He appears to be taken aback by what he sees.  And then we transitions to....]

January 2029, Winfield's bunker, infirmary

[Hog is sitting up on a table, as a medical droid works on his arm.  Winfield (that is, the adult Winfield, now ~46 years older than the toddler version we saw in the last scene) enters the room.]

Winfield: Mr. Hog!  My congratulations to you on managing to travel through time to join me here today.  Allow me to introduce myself.  My name is Winfield, custodian of this esteemed facility.  I must apologize for the untidiness of this facility, but the custodial staff here are largely devout Mormons, and it's Sunday.  Only Bushie and the robots are asked to work here on weekends.

Hog: So you're the one in charge here, huh?  Why did you bring me here, and what have you done with my friends?

Winfield: What have I done to your friends?

Well, isn't it masterful to see that you hold me in such esteem?  That you assign responsibility for your friends' welfare to me?

No, no, I am truly unworthy of this high regard you hold me in.

You are too kind.

Though it is gratifying to know that I am so beloved by you---

Hog: Cut the crap.  I was with this guy named Twister, and my dog Blondie, when we were ambushed by your robots.  Where are they now?

Winfield: I'm afraid I do not have that information.  My loyal robots have informed me that the roof collapsed on them, and when they dug their way out, they found you, and only you, unconscious in the rubble.

But forget about your friends, Mr. Hog.  I do regret the crude means by which we were compelled to apprehend you, but I think you will find my offer to be quite generous.

Hog: Your offer?

Winfield: Indeed.

You see, Mr. Hog, in my estimation you have two problems.

First, you are trapped in what is 16 years in the future, from your perspective.

Second, you have lost your memory, and don't know who you are.

[And we flash back to a scene from the very first episode...]

[And the flashback ends, as we're back in the infirmary with Hog and Winfield.]

Winfield: I believe that with your help, we can rectify both problems.

Hog: What?!?  You can help me remember who I am?

Winfield: Perhaps.

I believe we may know something of your identity.  You see, you were once an employee of Xerox here in Salt Lake City.  As it happens, we've been looking for just such a former employee of Xerox.  At the regional Xerox building in Salt Lake, we have discovered a coded map, which will take us to a secret underground lab, somewhere in this metropolitan area.  Unfortunately, we require simultaneous retinal eye scans from two different current or former Xerox employees to unlock the map.  I have had former Xerox employee Mr. Bushie on the payroll for some time, but we need a second Xerox employee to get that map.  We need you.

Hog: And let's say that I believe you.  Let's pretend that I did used to work for Xerox, and I help you unlock this map.  Just what will you find in this super secret underground lab?

Winfield: A time machine.  Or what I hope is a time machine.

If it is, then it can both send you back to your own time, and it also set the timeline right, so that we elect as president of these United States the greatest political talent of either the 20th or 21st Century.

Governor for the Bay State

President for America

Mitt Romney, the right choice.

Hog: O....K.....

Bushie told us that a crime boss named "The Irishman" had a time machine.  Is that what you're talking about?

Winfield: A half truth, of sorts.  The Irishman may not be a conventional sort of criminal.  But he is guilty of some of the greatest crimes against the Romney family that one can imagine.

Hog: I'm sorry Winfield, but nothing you say makes sense.  Can you just talk straight for once, and explain everything from the beginning?

[Winfield sighs.]

Winfield: Very well.  I will explain the entire story, which stretches back more than 40 years.....

Secret underground Xerox lab, interior

[Blondie, having been left unconscious, awakens as he's placed down on a rug, inside a nondescript room within the lab.  As he awakes, he sees his captor again, the ski-masked assailant who abducted him at the end of the previous episode.]

Blondie: OK, OK.  I guess I should know the drill by now.  This is after all the third time I've been taken prisoner in the last two days.

[The ski-masked assailant removes his mask, and reveals himself to be PiT (The Physicist), looking 16 years older than the version we saw in Episode 21.]

PiT (The Physicist): I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to abduct you like that, but I can't afford to be seen outside, or Winfield's robots might spot me.  Too dangerous to try to explain everything to you out there, so I had to knock you out and bring you here.  (pause) Do you want anything to eat?  You must be starving, and there's plenty of dog food here.

[PiT goes to serve Blondie some dog food.]

Blondie: I'm sorry, who are you?  What did you want to explain to me, and who is Winfield?

PiT (The Physicist): I'm PiT (The Physicist).  I was a summer student for a physicist at Fermilab named Muon2, way back in the year 2013.  But we've been in hiding from Winfield ever since then, because he's after Muon's time machine.

Blondie: Time machine?  Bushie told us that some gangster named "The Irishman" here in Salt Lake City had a time machine.  Is this the same one?

PiT (The Physicist): Gangster?  Hardly.  But "the Irishman" as you know him is our benefactor.

[PiT places the bowl of dog food in front of Blondie, who begins to devour it.]

PiT (The Physicist): Sorry for the mess here.  We have some cleaners who occasionally come in, but they're Mormons, and it's Sunday, so they haven't been in today.

[At that, we hear footsteps, as someone is entering from the adjacent room......

But it's not just one "someone".  It's a ~70 year old man, and a dog.  A dog who was surely the oldest dog that Blondie had ever seen.  He even had reading glasses and what looked like a white beard.  Do dogs have beards?  Blondie didn't know, since he was only a puppy, and didn't really know how the world worked.

No, this dog was.....

this dog was......

And then it hit Blondie.  The dog before him was in fact the Irishman.  The "Irishman" was an Irish Setter.

Irish Setter: Hello....Blondie, is it?  I see you've met PiT.  And this (points to the 70 year old man) is my associate, Muon2.  And I am--

Blondie: The Irishman.  You're the Irishman, aren't you?

Irish Setter: I have been known to go by that name for many years now, yes.  But you may also have heard of me by the name that I was originally given......Seamus Romney.


TO BE CONTINUED….

OK, the next episode is going to be a monster to write.  It'll certainly be the longest one yet, and more structurally complex than the episodes we've had so far.  I already have some detailed notes on it, but it'll still probably take a long time to write.  Would prefer to keep it as one episode, rather than split it up.

Tentative title is "Dogs are a lot more resourceful than you give them credit for".  (A quote from Bushie, as all the titles are: https://uselectionatlas.org/FORUM/index.php?topic=174552.msg3791097#msg3791097 )

If it doesn't include Russ Powers of Oklahoma or The Kropfinger, don't bother.

Nah.  Inserting Russ Powers now makes no sense.  However, doing so after some use of the time machine changes the timeline to be more like ours until a temporal point after Bushie meets Powers would make excellent sense.

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 25 (2x05) "Dogs Are A Lot More Resourceful Than You Give Them Credit For"

[Note: The structure of this episode is somewhat unique, as it consists of two sets of exposition.  In Winfield's bunker, Winfield is explaining to Hog the entire backstory of his own character, Seamus, Muon, the time machine, the Romney family, etc.  In the Xerox lab, Muon and Seamus are giving the same story to Blondie.  We assume that they're relaying almost identical stories, so we cut back and forth between them frequently.  We also cut to flashbacks quite a bit.

So because of this unique structure, it would get tedious to keep setting the scene again and again as you go back and forth between the Xerox lab and Winfield's bunker.  So for the rest of this episode, any time we're in Winfield's bunker, the text will be in blue, and any time we're in the Xerox lab, the text will be in red.  Any time we're in a flashback, the text will be in black.]

[We open on Blondie, Seamus, Muon2, and PiT.  Seamus, who also goes by "The Irishman", has just revealed to Blondie that his real name is Seamus Romney.]

Blondie: Seamus Romney?  I don't understand.  Is that supposed to mean something?

Seamus: It means that I was the dog of two time presidential candidate Mitt Romney.  Many years ago....long before he ever ran for any political office.

Blondie: I'm sorry.  I'm just a dog.  I don't know what you're talking about.

Muon2: Then we'll explain it to you.  The story begins in 1983.  I was a student at Brandeis University.  My thesis advisor, Prof. Diktor, had been doing some time travel research that he involved me in, but unfortunately, he passed away in a lab accident.  I attended the wake, and it was there that I met Mitt Romney, who was then a Vice President at Bain & Company.

January 1983, Prof. Diktor's wake

Mitt Romney: Mr. Muon?  My condolences on your loss.

Muon2: Thank you.  But.....*my* loss?  If you're here, at this wake, then I assume you knew Professor Diktor as well?

Mitt Romney: No, I'm afraid I didn't.  Or at least.....I only knew him by reputation.  Though I was hoping to arrange a meeting with him soon about his research, which I believe you've been involved with as well?

Muon2: Who are you?

Mitt Romney: My name's Mitt Romney, entrepreneur, husband, father, citizen, hunter of small, small varmints.  I'm a vice president of a management consulting firm, Bain & Company.  We've actually had our eye on Professor Diktor's research for some time now.

Muon2: Really?  You've had your eye on time travel research?  Why would a consulting firm--

Mitt Romney: Well, we have quite a few clients.  Some of them have some interest in scientific research.....especially research with medical applications.

Muon2: Medical applications?

Mitt Romney: Yes.  I'm no scientist, but I read the report on Professor Diktor's research.  This supposed "time travel" project looks like a dud--no offsense--that is....it looks like a dud as far as using it to travel through time.

Muon2: Well yes, for now.  Creating a working time machine is decades away, but the basic research shows promise.

Mitt Romney: Yes, but that's not what makes it commercially viable.  What I'm interested in is the side effects.  I understand that this research allows for the mass production of a rare isotope of uranium, that, when exposed to animal cells, has the potential to slow down the aging process.  It was the misuse of this treatment that led to Professor Diktor's death, was it not?

Muon2: How did you know that?  We'd tried to keep that under wraps.

But yes.  The uranium isotope, when incorporated into a chemical compound that the professor's collaborators were working on, can be processed into a drug we call UGrow1000.  It has the potential to slow the aging process, though Professor Diktor recklessly tried to test it on himself, with deadly results.

But my interest remains in using this uranium for my time travel research.

Mitt Romney: I understand.  However, Bain is involved with a number of drug companies, and we'd like to continue to research this UGrow, to see if it can be used to slow human aging.  We could arrange to set you up with a job--

Muon2: No, I'm afraid I must decline.  If I'm to remain in the field, I'd like to focus on the actual physics research, not commercial spinoff applications.

Mitt Romney: If you remain in the field?

Muon2: Well, I have been considering moving to Illinois, and getting involved in Republican Party politics there.

Mitt Romney: I see.  Well, I'm no Republican.  Not while Reagan/Bush are in office.  I'm an Independent during the time of Reagan/Bush.

But my father, he was a Republican governor of the state of Michigan.  I do have some contacts in the Republican Party.  If you really want to go into politics, I might be able to help you open some doors.  That is....if you're also interested in continuing your research on UGrow.

Muon2: I continued to do time travel research, and produced more UGrow.  While I still thought it was dangerous, I provided it to a chemical company that Bain was heavily invested in, so they could do further research on it.  All of this was kept secret, because of the delicate nature of the research.

Winfield: During this time, I was actually living in the Romney household in the Boston area.  I was, of course, only a toddler back then.  But both of my parents were live-in servants.  My father in particular had had a long relationship with the Romney family, and was a general "fixer" for the family, and close confidant of Mr. (at that time, not yet Gov.) Romney.

In any case, I obviously didn't know about any of this at the time, but Mr. Romney was agitating for faster development of the UGrow into a usable treatment for aging.  It would have been a tremendous breakthrough, and extremely lucrative.  He'd already been burned on some other biological research on tree height in Michigan that hadn't gone anywhere, and this was his big chance.  So he took a bold risk, and secretly went ahead with animal testing of the UGrow, by testing it on his own dog, Seamus.

Seamus: The UGrow did in fact slow my aging.  But it also made me......INTELLIGENT.

[Cue the "Secret of Nimh" "Intelligent" remix: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F7sW0U7Iu30&list=PLD-DVXy18jTRLpA-UDT3kQPaHjQ84iWRN ]

Seamus: I could suddenly understand human speech.....and I could even speak myself.  But I sensed the extent to which the humans around me were using me, experimenting on me, treating me like a lab rat.  I feared what would happen to me if I spoke in front of any of the adult humans.

Winfield: Seamus was acting odd, and so Mr. Romney decided to personally drive him up to a canine behavioral specialist in Ontario.....Dr. Bieber.

Hog: Excuse me, did you say Dr. Bieber?

Winfield: Yes, funnily enough, she would later go on to have a nephew, who would turn out to be one of the most famous Canadians of all time: Justin.

Seamus: They were going to send me to Canada, to have me checked out, but I didn't know exactly what was going on, so I took a chance....

[And we flash back to the flashback from the pervious episode....]


Seamus: What I saw in that binder astonished me.  It was list of potential female veterinarians that he planned to meet with, in the event that Dr. Bieber became unavailable.  It was a binder full of women!

[Blondie stares blankly back at Seamus, not understanding the "binders full of women" reference.

Seamus: Never mind.  That joke was actually pretty lame, and this is serious business.  No, in seriousness, this is what was in that binder: Romney, along with a small cabal of close confidants within Bain, was planning to develop a nationwide network of secret canine research facilities.  Their goal was to perfect the UGrow, to develop it to slow the aging process in humans.  But there were concerns about the reactions they'd seen in the early tests on me.  The new theory was that the drug might work better if they could induce motion sickness.  And so this nationwide network of canine tests involved plans to........I can barely say it......put dogs in cages on the roofs of cars, and then drive them at high speeds.

The first such test involved putting me on the roof of the Romney family car on the way to Ontario.  I couldn't believe it.  What kind of monster puts dogs on cars?

In any case, we did indeed make the drive to Canada the next day, but I purposely ate some food poisoning, and got diarrhea.  When Romney stopped the car, to clean up the mess, I ran off.

[Cut to a shot of the Romney family car at a rest stop....Mitt opens up the cage, to clean off Seamus, but Seamus bolts, and makes a run for it.  Mitt tries to chase after him, but it's a lost cause.  Seamus is in excellent shape, and easily outruns his master.  The Romney sons are in tears, over their lost dog.]

Seamus: Yes, I ran for it.  I got away, and that was the last time I ever actually saw the Romney family in person.  Although that wasn't the official story that was told to the media.  The official story was that I lived with the family for many years afterwards.  But that wasn't what really happened.

Winfield: That wasn't what really happened, as former Atlas forum member Sam Spade explained to the forum years later, during the 2012 presidential election campaign....

Hog: Wait....Sam Spade?  We met him on our road trip, and I feel like he was trying to tell us something about dogs seeking refuge in Canada.....

[And we flash back to Episode 14....]


Winfield: Yes, he was the one who broke the true story about Seamus to the Atlas community on Jan. 31, 2012:


Winfield: After Mr. Spade posted that, I tried to divert everyone's attention from this affair, but I may not have been successful:


Seamus: In any case, I was so distraught by the experience.  I couldn't believe that my master....Mr. Romney.....would do such a thing....that he would put me on the roof of his car like that, when I was supposed to be a member of the family.

But I knew what to do next.  I went to find Dr. Bieber....

Dr. Bieber's office, interior

Seamus: Dr. Bieber?  I don't have an appointment, but I think there are a few things you should know about.

Dr. Bieber: My goodness!  I've been an animal behavioural specialist for decades, and I've never before seen a dog that could talk, eh?

Seamus: Please don't spread Canadian cultural stereotypes by ending every sentence with "eh?".  The fact that you included a "u" in "behavioural" was enough for me.

In any case, I think there's something that you should know about Bain, and your contact there, Mr. Romney.

Seamus: I explained everything to her, and she helped me get settled, in secret, in Canada, safe from the reach of Romney and Bain.

And I had a few tricks up my own sleave.  That is, my metaphorical sleave.  Dogs don't have sleaves.

I had swiped Romney's bank account numbers, passwords, etc.  I knew everything about the UGrow distribution process.  So I made a large bank transfer of funds to a new account I created in Canada, and also forged documents to get all of the existing supply of UGrow shipped there.  I had an ample supply of UGrow, which could keep me young for decades, as I continued to plot against Mr. Romney.  I suppose it was a large criminal heist, and my reputation grew in the criminal underworld, as "the Irishman".

(But the Canadian criminal underworld is fairly easily impressed, so don't read too much into that.)

Winfield: Mr. Romney was furious.  He couldn't believe that Seamus had escaped, and he didn't understand how someone--not realizing that it was Seamus at the time--had successfully drained the supply of UGrow from the company's inventory.

It was then that my father acted.  He knew that Mr. Romney badly wanted to prove that the UGrow could slow aging in humans, but it was too early to safely test it on humans.

But my father's devotion to Mr. Romney was unwavering!  He risked the health of his own son, to test the drug.

Hog: His son?  You mean he tested it on you?

Winfield: No, not me.  I was just a toddler.  He tested the UGrow1000 on my older brother, Hugo.

[We flash to a shot of Father Winfield feeding a pill to a 10 year old Yougo1000.]

Blondie: Wait, that kid?  The kid that I met yesterday in Oklahoma, who had me kidnapped?

Seamus: That "kid" is Winfield's brother Hugo.  Actually, his older brother.

Winfield: He was 10 years old back then.....but the UGrow1000.....it worked *too* well.  Apparently, if you take it before puberty, it not only slows down the aging process, but stops it altogether.  Even many years later, decades after he last took a dose of the UGrow, he still hasn't aged beyond 10 years old, neither physically nor mentally.

To hide his identity, to avoid explaining why he never aged, he eventually went by the name Yougo1000.....a joke on his part.  Mocking the drug that has stolen any hope of an adulthood from him.  He may be my "older" brother, but I look after him now.  And sometimes send him as my representative to trade for supplies with Space Biker gangs in Oklahoma and Kansas....

[And we flash back to:]


Winfield: In any case, when Mr. Romney learned that my father had recklessly tested the UGrow on my brother, and that it worked too well, that there was apparently no way to reverse the process......he shut down the program.

Seamus: Yes, I was successful in undermining the program.  Romney was embarrassed by the setback, and just wanted to move on to other things.  He remained in contact with Muon, but no longer requested him to produce more UGrow.

Winfield: That is.....UNTIL THE YEAR 1995.

Gov. George Romney had just passed away, and it was the day that his son, Mitt Romney, returned to Boston from his father's funeral in Michigan.

Summer 1995, Mitt Romney's mansion in Boston, MA

[We see a teenage Winfield in the living room, going over his homework from his summer school, as we pan over to an open door, and push through the door, finding a study where Mitt Romney and his associate, Winfield's father, discuss the tragedy of Gov. Romney's passing.]

Father Winfield: I hope I'm not speaking out of turn here, sir, but I don't think I've ever seen you like this.

Mitt Romney: I can't argue with you there.  It's just that.....

I believed my father was a great man.  The Republican Party may not have had the wisdom to nominate him for president, but he otherwise achieved everything he could have wanted in life.

Father Winfield: You believeed, past tense?

Mitt Romney: Gosh darnit to heck, I'm just not sure anymore.  At one point, he seemed invincible to me.  But to see him whither away and die.....

Father Winfield: It's a fact of life, sir.  It'll happen to all of us....eventually.  If we're lucky enough to live that long.

Mitt Romney: No.....(as Romney begins to have a realization)....no, it doesn't have to happen to all of us.  I've been a fool.  My father may have been defeated by death, but I never will be!  I'm going to restart the UGrow project.

Father Winfield: So that you can put the drug into mass production?

Mitt Romney: No, at least not yet.  No, my father may have been defeated by death, and he may have been defeated by the Republican Party establishment in his quest for the presidency......

But I will be defeated by neither.  We're going to put UGrow back into production, and continue to research it, to make it safer.  But we're not going to sell it on a mass scale.  I'm going to take it myself.

Father Winfield: Sir?

Mitt Romney: That's right.  I may not have been elected to statewide office yet, but I can devise a strategy to put myself in the White House by the end of next decade.  And if I'm taking the UGrow, then I'll continue to be as energetic and vital as I am today, well into my 60s.

Father Winfield: Are you sure about this sir?

Mitt Romney: As sure as I am of the fact that I'd be better for gay rights than Ted Kennedy.

Muon2: After years in which the project lay dormant, I was contacted again by Mr. Romney about supplying more UGrow.

Seamus: Romney took the UGrow himself, but also restarted the experiments on dogs, much to my horror.  He wanted to perfect the drug, and continued to believe that canine experimentation was the only path forward towards refining it for safe use in humans.

I couldn't allow that.  But I was limited in terms of the amount of sabotage I could maintain.  It took me years to devise a plan, but I eventually managed to find the source of the UGrow....

Muon2: It happened when I was visiting the Illinois state legislature, getting some tips from legislators about running for office.

2002, Illinois state capitol building

[Illinois state Sen. Barack Obama is walking down the hall with Muon2, giving him advice on the political game in the state of Illinois.]

Obama: Aaaaaand so, you're going to want to live in the district that you represent.  Uhhh.....you should talk to my good friend Tony Rezko, he can set you up with some good real estate deals.  You'll also want to join aaaaaaa local church.  Uhhhhh.........perhaps the church that I attend, featuring Rev. Jeremiah Wright.

[Muon shakes Obama's hand, as he prepares to move on to his next appointment.]

Muon2: Thank you senator.  You've been a big help.

[As Obama leaves him, Muon knocks on the office door of another state legislator.]

Seamus: (voiceover, coming from inside the office) Come in!

[Muon enters the room, but is shocked to see a dog--Seamus--sitting at the desk in front of him, rather than the state senator he was expecting.]

Seamus: Dr. Muon, please don't be alarmed.  Yes, I am a dog, and yes, I am talking to you.  No, you are no hallucinating.

Now, I've taken a big risk by coming here today.  I've been living in Canada for nearly two decades now.

Muon2: You don't look that old.....for a dog.

Seamus: I've been aging slowly because I still have a large residual supply of the UGrow that you supplied to Mr. Romney.

Muon2: What?  How do you know about that?

Seamus: I'll explain.  I'll explain everything to you.  And if you're the kind of man that I think you are, then you'll agree to help me put an end to Mr. Romney's animal abuse.

Seamus: I explained everything to Muon, and tried to talk him into turning against Romney.

Muon2: I sympathized with Seamus's concerns, but I had a longstanding relationship with Romney, and couldn't end it immediately.  So I continued to supply Mr. Romney--who became Governor Romney later that year--with UGrow, albeit in smaller quantities than what he was accustomed to.  I made up some excuses about hiccups in my research.

Winfield: Mr. Romney continued to take the UGrow himself, and aged at a slower rate than normal for humans.  When he was elected governor in 2002, he was 55 years old, but had the appearance of a man in his mid 40s.

Seamus: Meanwhile, while Muon kept up the front that he was still an ally of Gov. Romney, we also set up a series of secret labs run by Xerox, dispersed across North America.  As "The Irishman", I still had connections to various multinational corporations, which I had built using the contacts I'd stolen from Bain.

Muon2: Using the lab space that Seamus provided to me, I was able to accelerate my time travel research.  Seamus wanted me to complete the device as soon as possible, as he intended to use it to bring down Gov. Romney's entire operation.

Winfield: Muon actually wasn't very good at hiding the fact that he was up to something.  Gov. Romney suspected that something was wrong fairly early on.  In February 2004, a member of the governor's staff alerted him that Muon had registered on an online political forum known as the US Election Atlas forum.  Suspicious, he asked me to register on the same forum, and keep tabs on Muon for him.  I was happy to oblige.  By this time, I was living on my own in Rhode Island, spearheading the governor's attempts at outreach to out of state businesses.  He'd hoped that I would have moved further out of state, but Rhode Island is as far away from the governor as I could bear to be.

At the same time, my brother Hugo, or "Yougo" as he was now called, moved out to the Chicago area with a phony foster family.  He was tasked with spying on Dr. Muon in person.

Seamus: By 2007, Romney was already running for president.  Continuing to take the UGrow, and looking as young as he had in many years.  The canine experiments continued.  And again, they largely succeeded in slowing the aging in the dogs, but there were too many unpredictable mutations.  The dogs did increase their intelligence.  But as far as I know, none of the others had the gift of speech, as I did.

But it was in late 2007 that Muon's work was finally complete.  He had completed a working version of the device.

Blondie: I see.  So you had a time machine, and you could use that to go back in time, and stop the experiments before they ever started?

Muon2: No, I'm afraid that wouldn't work.  Time travel doesn't work that way.  I mean.....have you seen the movie "12 Monkeys"?

Blondie: I'm just a dog, and am only a few weeks old.  Of course I haven't.

Muon2: Well, there are two different sets of rules used in popular fiction to depict time travel.  One is the "12 Monkeys" rules, and the other is the "Back to the Future" rules.  In the latter case, it's possible to change the timeline.  But that's not how time travel really works.  It actually follows what's called the Novikov self-consistency principle, as portrayed in the science fiction film "12 Monkeys".  It means that you can't actually change history.  If you go back in time, whatever you did back in the past was always part of history.  There's no way to change it.

The problem is that Winfield doesn't actually believe that this is true, and he's convinced that he can actually change history.....but I'm getting ahead of myself now.

Seamus: Yes, you are.  Let's get back to the story.  We had a working time machine at last.  But it's not just a time machine.  It's a spacetime machine, and can transport anyone to any place or time in the universe.  By this time, Muon was working with me, and from this very lab, we did the first tests of the device on human subjects.  Unfortunately, our first subject didn't survive the test.  Subsequent subjects did survive, but we soon discovered that the device causes memory loss in humans.

Winfield: Hog, you were the first test subject that they experimented on.  You were an employee of Xerox here in Salt Lake City, recruited to work on this project.  They put you in the device, tried to send you across the room, but you actually ended up in Oklahoma.  Because of the memory problems created by the use of the device on humans, you found that you couldn't remember who you were.  You wandered the streets of Oklahoma City, becoming a hobo, and apparently, according to my records, engaging in numerous orgies with your fellow hobos, eventually using the abandoned property owned by Bushie.  Eventually being intimidated by his frequent, once a week visits to the property, each of which lasted for a few minutes, you abandoned the use of the property, but swore vengeance against Bushie.

[Hog reacts in disbelief, as his entire life seems to make sense now.]

Winfield: At least, that's what my research team has been able to piece together.  I'm not sure that Seamus realizes that that test subject survived, or that he is you, but I believe that is your identity.

Seamus: In any case, while the use of the spacetime device created memory problems for humans, it had no known side effects on dogs.  So I had to act alone.

Blondie: Act alone?

Seamus: I had no need to use the time travel aspects of the device.  But like we said, it was a spacetime machine.  With stolen blueprints of the animal experimentation labs for Bain's affiliate companies, I singlehandedly broke into each of the labs, and freed all of the dogs.  Bain's canine experimentation days were done.

Winfield: Governor Romney was incensed.  By this time, it was January 2008.  He was campaigning in Jacksonville, Florida, and he said on camera "Who let the dogs out?  Who?  Who?":

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FDwwAaVmnf4

It was actually a coded message to his operatives at Bain to communicate his displeasure at the turn of events.

But despite the setback, he continued on with his campaign.  Though it wasn't quite the same after that.  He was distracted by the sabotage of the canine UGrow experiments, and botched a meeting with Florida Gov. Charlie Crist later in the week.  Crist then endorsed rival candidate John McCain, McCain won the primary, and the rest is history.  The governor's 2008 presidential hopes were dashed.

Muon was still nominally working with Gov. Romney.  Still supplying him with UGrow.  But with no canine research.....the tests of the drug as a means of slowing the aging process were dead in the water.

Nonetheless, the Governor continued to use it on himself, and it did allow him to keep his youthful appearance for yet another presidential run in 2012.....which unfortunately ended in defeat as well.

Seamus: And that's where things stood until June 2013, when I discovered that there was still one rogue Bain laboratory still in operation, in the state of Oklahoma.  I used the spacetime device to break into the lab, and free all of the dogs.  One of those dogs was *you*, Blondie.  You and the other dogs escaped into the Oklahoma wilderness and scattered.....but you were eventually found by Bushie, who decided to adopt you, after making only the most minimal attempt to look for your owner.

[Blondie's eyes go wide.]

Blondie: What?!?  They ran those experiments on me?

Seamus: Of course.  Haven't you ever wondered why you have human-level intelligence?  Haven't you ever noticed that you're a dog and yet you can somehow *talk*?

Blondie: I wondered, yes....but how am I supposed to know how these things work?  I'm just a dog.

Seamus: It doesn't work like this on all dogs.  But for the rare cases, like you and me, it not only slows our aging process, but increases our intelligence, well beyond the normal canine baseline.  I've been taking the UGrow for many decades now, and am now about 50 years old, give or take.  Yes, the aging process is finally catching up on me, as I can only cheat death for so long.  You'd cheat it too, Blondie, if you continued to take the UGrow, but it's surely been at least a few weeks since you took it last, so I don't know how long it'll last before it wears off on you, and you revert to normal canine aging and intelligence.

In any case, I destroyed that one final Bain lab, but security camera footage of the attack managed to make its way to Gov. Romney.  His investigators pieced together everything.  My work as the "Irishman" was uncovered, Dr. Bieber was interrogated, and they discovered my work with Muon.

Muon2: I was engaged in more time travel research with my summer student, PiT here, at that time.  But when Gov. Romney figured out what we had done, I cut off his supply of UGrow.  And then PiT, Seamus, and I all went into hiding from Gov. Romney.  And then later, after Mr. Romney's heart attack, from Winfield.

Blondie: His heart attack?

Winfield: By this time, my father was running the black ops programs within Bain.  One of the projects involved the genetic engineering of male/male hybrid babies.

Hog: Male/male hybrid babies?  I feel like I've heard this story before.

Winfield: You see, the governor and his lovely wife Ann were blessed by fate in that they produced five male heirs to carry on the family name.  Five sons and no daughters, such remarkable luck!

Hog: If you say so.

Winfield: However, not every wealthy family in this fair land is so fortunate.  Especially since smaller family sizes are now more common among the nation's elite.  What is one to do in the absence of a male heir to carry on the family line?

And so, in the early 2000s, the same Bain-funded company researching UGrow decided to invest in the creation of drugs for men that would selectively cause them to produce sperm with Y chromosomes exclusively, to insure that they had male heirs.  

This drug was successfully produced, using stem cells from aborted fetuses.  Which wasn't a problem for Bain, since Gov. Romney was staunchly pro-choice at the time.

However, this drug never went to market because of a logic problem.

Hog: A logic problem?

Winfield: Yes.  If every wealthy man produced only male heirs with his wife, then who would those sons marry?  Upper class men would be forced to either marry someone beneath their status, or go extinct within one generation.

The solution was simple.  We must invent the technology for male/male genetic hybrids.  And so, it was invented, by that same Bain-funded biotech firm.  The breakthrough was made in 2013, just after the Supreme Court mandated male/male gay marriages in the state of Oklahoma.

We created male/male genetic combo children just in time for that mandatory Oklahoma gay marriage ruling.

Hog: OK, but what does this have to do with anything?  You started on this tangent after saying that Mitt Romney had a heart attack?

Winfield: It was because of what happened afterwards.  The male/male hybrids grew to adulthood very fast.  They reached maturity within just a couple of years after birth.  The first such hybrid was Fredward.  He was our prototype, so we programmed a "back door" into his brain, so as to control him, if necessary.  That was in fact proved necessary, when I decided that I needed him as a figurehead to lead the Islamist insurrection.

Hog: Yeah, this is what I don't get.  If you're not an Islamist yourself, why are you helping them?

Winfield: To help create a crisis for this great country so extreme that only a President Romney could possibly resolve it.  I first started feeding the Islamists premium data from Dave Leip's US Election Atlas in the mid-2010s, just as their movement was gathering steam.  I hoped to create a groundswell of support for a 2016 Romney presidential campaign.

But Gov. Romney was too weak.

Without the UGrow, his aging resumed, at a very rapid clip.  He grew sickly.  And in fact.....once he realized how grim the situation was in America......he had a heart attack.  His heart ached for America, and America was in deep trouble.  We had him put into suspended animation, with the hope that, once Muon was found, we could secure more UGrow, and revive him.

I had to continue on.

I installed Fredward as leader of the Islamists, helping them to organize, using all of the demographic data that I had taken from the Atlas website.  I even kidnapped Dave Leip himself right out of his Massachusetts home, and have continued to use his expertise, long after the Atlas website itself was shut down.

I knew that Muon and Seamus were hiding somewhere in the western United States, and I wanted to lock down Islamist control of this region, in order to find them, even sending my brother Yougo out on expeditions to go looking for them, whenever I stumbled upon a lead.

Unfortunately, Fredward turned out to have a genetic defect, and he passed away within a few years.  However, it was at this time that Bushie was trying to make a move back to the United States.  He'd grown tired of exile in Kenya, but could not legally return.  But federal law doesn't mean much in contested areas like Salt Lake City.  The holographic projection system I had built, in order to replicate the image of Fredward, and make the rest of the world believe that he was still alive......it was designed by Rainbow Play Systems, and Bushie had a good deal of experience with their computer systems.  He's also been able to keep up with the maintenance on my robot servants.  His work ethic has actually improved quite a bit from the old days.  He was a promising hire, as he'd even helped us organize politically in Kenya.

()

In any case, I've been running the insurgency from various underground bunkers, scattered throughout the Rockies.  But this......this is the largest of them, by far.  This facility is actually an extension of the underground security headquarters built by Gov. Romney for the 2002 Winter Olympic Games.

Seamus: And that's the situation we've found ourselves in, these past many years.  We're stuck here, in this bunker.  In this bunker, we have the only working time machine that Muon has been able to construct.  But unfortunately, it isn't mobile.  We could use the device to escape, but we couldn't take it with us.  It would be left behind, vulnerable for Winfield to ultimately find it, and misuse it.

I foolishly tried to use the device on my own initiative, for my own selfish reasons, years ago, and it backfired.  In the hands of Winfield, the consequences would be catastrophic.

Muon2: But I'm afraid we're trapped here.  We dare not even attempt to power up the device anymore, as we believe that Winfield is close to tracking us down, and the radiation signature from the device could attract his attention.

Ideally, we'd like to dismantle it, and make our way to the Idaho border....eventually getting it to Canada, where custody of the device can be transferred to a group of international scientists.  But that now seems fanciful, given the military situation in this vicinity.....especially now that the US military appears to be making a large scale assault on the city.

Winfield: And that brings us to this week.  After all this time, investigating various leads on the location of Seamus, Muon, and the time machine, we finally chased down a most promising lead.  I believe they're hiding in a secret Xerox lab here in the Salt Lake City area.  But yes, as I said earlier, I needed two former Xerox employees in order to unlock the exact location of the laboratory.  I already had one on my payroll, Bushie.  But I needed another.  Yougo, who happened to be trading with the Space Bikers in Oklahoma, was investigating leads on other Xerox employees who might be living there, when something remarkable happened.

In the early hours of yesterday morning, I was awakened by Bushie, who had been secretly keeping his remaining Oklahoma friends updated about the weather there via his NSAbook weather app.  He identified a very curious weather pattern forming, which appeared to be a tornado traveling through time from the year 2013.  It didn't take him long to realize that, somehow, you and your canine friend were being transported through time to the present day from 16 years in the past.

In any case, NSAbook identified you as a former Xerox employee.  At that point, we knew that we had to get you here.  So Bushie concocted a story about communicating with you from the year 2035, guiding you to the time machine here.

Unfortunately, he also set up a parallel search effort for the device, enlisting the help of President Naso.  But Naso got impatient.  Rather than giving the effort the requested 48 hours, Naso gave up after 24 hours, and has now sent in "commandos" to take the city, who're now doing combat with the local crime lords, Mormon militias, Islamists, etc.  It's a real mess out there right now, and we're going to have to wait it out, before we try to move you and Bushie to locate the Xerox lab.

But the point is that I was always skeptical of the idea that the time machine might be real.  The reason I wanted it was to produce more UGrow, to make Gov. Romney younger again.  But now that I've seen that you and your canine friend are capable of traveling through time, well......

Maybe time travel is real after all.  Maybe that thing does work.  If it does, then forget about making Gov. Romney younger.  We can just go back in time, and alter the timeline so as to install him as president.

Hog: So you want to go back in time to....when?  Some point in the 2008 or 2012 campaigns?

Winfield: I haven't yet decided on the exact destination.  I did mention how Gov. Romney's distraction in January 2008 caused him to lose out on Gov. Crist's endorsement.  That is one possibility.  However, I'm not sure that 2008 would have been winnable for him.  I was actually hoping that Sen. McCain would pick Gov. Romney as his running mate that year, but he ended up choosing an Alaskan airhead.  I do think that the timeline could be altered to prevent that, allowing Gov. Romney to serve on the 2008 GOP ticket, setting up his own presidential campaign down the road.  This should be easily fixable, as Sen. McCain's oversight was precipitated by your own traveling companion, Mr. Twister, who was once known on the Atlas forum as "Aizen".

Hog: What?

Winfield: It was the evening of July 16, 2008.  Gov. Romney was on Sen. McCain's running mate short list.  I was visiting the Governor's Massachusetts residence, going over some preparations he was to make for his interview with Sen. McCain the following day.  During some down time, I browsed the Atlas forum, and found this thread, which had been started by Aizen:

https://uselectionatlas.org/FORUM/index.php?topic=79279.0

Gov. Romney wanted to see what I was looking at on my laptop.

July 2008, Mitt Romney's mansion in Boston, MA

Mitt Romney: What's this?  What are you looking at, Winfield?

Winfield: Oh.....uh.....nothing sir.  Hey, Governor.......perhaps we should think of some contingency plans in case Sen. McCain picks someone else.   Do you think the President can constitutionally drop the Vice President from the administration part way through the term if the Vice President has never been found guilty of breaking any law or done anything that would otherwise prevent the Vice President from carrying out his or her responsibilities, and is completely physically, emotionally, and mentally capable of carrying out the duties of Vice President?

In other words, can the President constitutionally drop the Vice President part way through the term simply because the President wants to or simply because the President wants a new Vice President?

Assuming all the above conditions in paragraph one are met by the Vice President, under what grounds can the President drop the Vice President part way through the term, if any?

Please discuss.

Mitt Romney: Don't be so evasive Winfield, I'm really interested in what you might be looking at.  It looks like some kind of internet forum, to discuss elections and campaigns and whatnot.

Winfield: (having now been caught out, and forced to tell the truth) Yes sir.  But don't worry yourself over this.  It's just some know-nothing from Colorado besmirching your good name.

Mitt Romney: Nonsense, Winfield.  You shouldn't be an elitist by calling such a person a "know-nothing".  Internet messageboard posters are people, my friend.  This gentleman has taken the time to register on a free website, and typed out an opinion that will be viewed by dozens of individuals around the world.  Surely, his take on the day's goings on is worthy of our respect.

[Romney points at the screen.]

Mitt Romney: Now look here.  This fellow has titled this message "Aizen's unbiased analysis of Mitt Romney".  Hear that?  That's exactly the kind of feedback from the common man that I'm looking for.  With such constructive criticism of my political skills, I can make a more effective pitch to Sen. McCain.

Now look, this fellow writes "bad".  OK, well, not what I was hoping for, but we'll see how he justifies this opinion.

The next word is "bad" as well.  And then "bad bad bad bad bad bad....".

What's this down here?  "LOL"?

Winfield: Governor, I'm afraid that stands for "laugh out loud".

[Romney's face is now ashen.]

Winfield: I'm sorry for showing you this, Governor.  I can't believe that there are such fools out there, who don't appreciate your greatness.  Speaking of that, I've always wanted to ask you: Were you born great, did you have greatness thrust upon you, or did you achieve greatness?

Mitt Romney: Oh.....well.....that's nice of you Winfield, but maybe we should move on.

Winfield: Reading that trolling post from Aizen sparked self-doubt within Gov. Romney, and he couldn't handle the interview with Sen. McCain the following day.

July 2008, McCain campaign headquarters, Arlington, VA

John McCain: Governor, I'm going to be honest with you.  I don't have much respect for you, my friend.  Your positions on issues seem to depend on what office you're running for, and whether it's an even numbered year or not.  If I don't like your opinion, I suppose I can just wait a couple of weeks, and see if it changes.  Perhaps your solution to the immigration issue will be to get out your small-varmint gun and drive those Guatemalans off your lawn.

But I may need you, nonetheless.  You can land a good punch in a debate against whoever that underqualified celebrity from Hawaii will choose as his #2 man, and I can use that.  I may hate you more than I did my Vietnamese torturers, but you might just be the right person to be my #2.  In fact, I realize that I can't look at you without thinking about #2, my friend.

Mitt Romney: Gosh Senator, you don't know how grateful I am to hear those words.  I mean, there are so many people out there who don't believe in me, and I....

[Romney begins to tear up.  He then grabs McCain's arm, as his emotions overcome him.]

Mitt Romney: There are a lot of people out there who hate me, John.  I just don't know if I can handle it.

[McCain looks back at him with a mix of confusion and disgust.  He can't believe the sorry emotional state that Romney appears to be in.]

Winfield: His emotional breakdown doomed his vice presidential hopes.  But if that time machine is real, we can fix his mistakes.  America will be a much better place than the hell that it has become.

So what do you think, Mr. Hog?  Will you help me find that time machine, and restore America to its greatness, by fixing the mistakes of either 2008 or 2012?  We can even fix the mistakes of your own life, and prevent you from becoming a hobo.

Hog: But....wait a minute!  The "hell that America has become"?  You created that hell.  You fuelled this insurgency and tore this country apart....for what?  Just to advance the political interests of a multimillionaire politician?  How many thousands?  millions? died because of you?  You're a madman.

Winfield: And what kind of lives would those people have had under Barack Obama, and all of the worthless presidents we've had since him?  You have to believe that American can do better.  Follow me to the better America that Gov. Romney….that President Romney will build.

Believe in America.

Win with Winfield.


TO BE CONTINUED….

GENIUS!

HBO series when?

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 26 (2x06) "Sometimes It Is A Matter Of Picking Your Battles"

Winfield's bunker, interior holding cell

[Dave and Hog are in the cell, as Hog wraps up telling Dave the story of his conversation with Winfield.]

Dave: So you didn't agree to help him?

Thanks,
Dave

[Hog is agitated, and pacing across the room as he speaks.]

Hog: No, of course not.  I'm not going to agree to help that lunatic.  Not that that'll stop him.  He'll drag me at gunpoint to that Xerox building, and force cooperation out of me.

Dave: I see.  You won't willingly cooperate with User Number 287 because of the innocent lives involved?

Thanks,
Dave

Hog: No!  That's not it.  Look, Winfield's a lunatic, and he's responsible for many deaths, but.....

....I'm not a hero.  I don't care about saving anybody.  I'm no Jack Ryan, Han Solo, Indiana Jones, Rick Deckard, or even Bob Falfa. I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas, and I just want to go get Toto and go home.

I don't really care who that nut installs as president, or how many people he massacres this year or the next or the next.  I just want to get back to 2013, live my life as a hobo, and maybe see if I can find a way to improve my lot in life.  You know, maybe I did have a life as a Xerox employee that I can get back to, if that is my real identity.  If I can't?  Well, then at least I can enjoy the simple pleasures of life.....like participating in orgies.  Heck, as a hobo, I probably wouldn't even live to see the year 2029, so what do I care?

No, the reason I won't agree to help Winfield is because he's a liar.  He's not going to help me get back to my time, I know that.  He'll use me, and then get rid of me, so as not to risk his plans to change history.

So yes, I have selfish reasons here.  What's your excuse?

Dave: What do you mean?

Thanks,
Dave

Hog: You're up to your neck in Winfield's bloody war, from what he says.  He uses your demographic knowledge to fight off the US military.

Dave: Well, yes, I provide all of the data I have to anyone willing to pay the fee for a premium membership.  Now, as I am a prisoner here, User Number 287 doesn't actually let me access the money he claims to be paying me, but he has promised to do so whenever I'm released.

Thanks,
Dave

Hog: And it doesn't bother you, what he's using that data for?

Dave: It's not my place to be partisan.  If someone wants to use my data to advance their political cause, whether that be conservative, liberal, libertarian, communitarian, or Islamist.....it wouldn't be proper for me to object.  I am just a neutral provider of information.  I provide data on American elections, and if I were to inject myself into the political process, or express my own partisan preferences, I would be compromising my own neutrality.

Thanks,
Dave

[Hog pauses and thinks for a minute, then retorts:]

Hog: OK.....fine.  You want to be a neutral provider of election information, I get it.  But what if someone was threatening the integrity of the elections?  What if you had the power to stop them from gaining a completely unfair political advantage, that subverted the will of the electorate?

Dave: Under those conditions, yes, I believe I would act.

Thanks,
Dave

Hog: Well then, listen to me, Dave.  Winfield wants to use that time machine to change history.  Why?  Because he wants to undo past elections.  He doesn't like the choices that the voters made, so he's just going to go back and change everything on his own.  How is that fair?

Dave: Hmmmm....a fair point.  I agree that his actions would undermine the democratic process.  I could be persuaded to act against him.  But what do you suggest?

Thanks,
Dave

Hog: [his voice now low, so that the robot guards don't hear him] We escape.

You've been here a long time.  How can we get out of here, before Winfield comes back here, to take me to that Xerox building?  Any ideas?

Dave: Even if we made it out of this cell, I'm afraid I don't even know how to find the exit to this facility.  The facility is vast, and we could be lost for hours.  I have maps of every county in the country, but none of this building.

However, I do know that the holographic imaging chamber is three floors up.  Like I said earlier, User Number 1387, or "Bushie" as you call him, he comes to talk to me from time to time, and he's mentioned the location of that room.

Thanks,
Dave

Hog: Actually, that's not bad.  If we could make it to that room, we could send a hologram out somewhere, to get help.  It's worth a shot.  Plus, if we run into Bushie up there, I could finally hit him with a rock.

Dave: I still don't understand why you dislike User Number 1387 so much.  He's always been nice to me.  And he's had a hard life.  Multiple broken engagements, unemployed for many years, scratched by a cat which brought him to tears, forced into exile in Kenya where Kenyan children pointed at him and called him "Piggy"....

Thanks,
Dave

Hog: Yes, OK, he's had some tough breaks.  And maybe he's had some real hardships since 2013.  But I listened to that "Update on tape" on the drive here, and I'm telling you.....he brings all his problems on himself.  He takes these absurd jobs, vacuum cleaner salesman, call center.....uh, what's the title for someone who works at a call center?  Call center phone answerer?  Anyway, he takes these jobs and learns useless skills that will never have any use later in his life, and then ends up getting fired, or quits over nothing, or.....I just can't respect someone who's thrown away so many opportunities.  He keeps failing, and his parents keep bailing him out.  If his parents hadn't been there, he would have had nothing to fall back on.  He'd be a hobo, like me.

But hey, at least he likes the Dallas Cowboys.  I'll give him that.

But other than that, I don't see any redeeming qualities in him.

Dave: Excessive hyperbole.  I would infract you now, if I could.

Thanks,
Dave

Hog: Actually, wait, infract me?  That's a good idea.  If you're the Atlas administrator, does that mean that you have the same powers that we saw in Nym?  Could you use those powers to get us out of here?

Dave: No, I'm afraid not.  User Number 11 (or as you call him, Nym) and the other moderators unlocked those powers from some obscure part of the forum software more than a decade ago.  I guess the powers remained with them, even after the website shut down.  But I can't unlock it within myself, without accessing the code from the Atlas.

Thanks,
Dave

Hog: Well, our traveling companion, Mr. Twister, showed us what he said was the last copy of Atlas.  But we have no way to reach him......

[Hog leans back against the cell wall in frustration, not able to think of a way out of this.  He puts his hands in his pockets, and then gets excited when he realizes what he still has in his pocket.  He pulls out a piece of paper.  We flash back to:]


Hog: That's it!  Twister said that we should call on this young woman if we get into trouble, and I think this qualifies.

[Hog looks carefully at the piece of paper, ready to read off what it says.]

Hog: I feel a little silly saying this.  But I guess if those Moderate Heroes can do amazing things with these stupid chants, maybe I can too.

[Hog clears his throat, and then recites the text written on the piece of paper he got from Twister:]

Hog: By the power of "Shutter Island" and "Last House on the Left", I summon BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter, who's watched too many violent movies!

[And with that, the lights in the room are shot out.  We hear gunfire, and see three of the four nkpatel robots guarding Dave and Hog get shot, and fall to the ground.  In short, something like this scene from Kick-@$$ plays out, with BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter in the place of Hit Girl:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-SbnqIIkXQc

[The final nkpatel unit is much better at dodging bullets, and manages to survive BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter using up all of her ammo.

BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter then approaches nkpatel, and attempts to confront him with her wit.  The robot tries to reason with her:]

nkpatel1279: Looking at the Hispanic Southwest region.(AZ-11,CO-9,NV-6,and NM-5).  All of these are now Islamist, but if they returned to the United States, then NM-5 is Likely/Safe Democratic, NV-6 is Lean/Likely Democratic, CO-9 is Tossup/Lean Democratic. and AZ-11 is Lean Republican/Tossup.  However, this is using 2010 census numbers, because of absence of census in Western states in 2020.  Would require new census, which brings number of Arizona districts below 11....

BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter: Lol!  You're actually predicting elections in states that have seceded?  Do you know how pointless that is, given that we know nothing of the demographics in those states now?

Here, I'll start a poll that you can answer:

What would you rather do on a Sunday?  Predict elections in imaginary districts, or go to a church that provides pot for first time visitors?

- predict elections in imaginary districts
- go to a church that provides pot for first time visitors (normal)

nkpatel1279: I......want to discuss elections......but I.......want to be normal..............CANNOT COMPUTE..........

[Smoke starts coming out of nkpatel's robot ears, and then BRTD's imaginary daughter knocks him over with a roundhouse kick, as his lifeless body collapses onto the ground.

The keys to the cell door are on nkpatel's body, and BRTD's imaginary daughter picks them up, and frees Dave and Hog.]

BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter: You called?

Hog: Wow, that was incredible.  I don't suppose you'd now be willing to help us get out of here, so I can find my dog Blondie, and we can locate the time machine that'll take us back to 2013?

BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter: Blondie?  You mean Bushie's dog from all those years ago, also named J.J.?

Hog: That's right.

[BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter sighs in disgust, and then turns around and walks away.]

Hog: What's wrong?  Where are you going?

BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter: Sorry, but I can't help you anymore.  

Hog: What?  Why not?

BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter: My Dad showed me some of the arguments made on the Atlas forum by J.J.  Not the dog, but the poster.  I'm sorry, but I just can't respect anyone with that name anymore.  If you want to succeed on your quest, you'll have to find some other deus ex machina to help you do it.

[And with that, BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter walks out the door.]

Dave: OK, well, I don't think we need her anyway.  We should be able to make our way to that holographic chamber on our own, right?

Thanks,
Dave

Hog: Hold on a minute.

[Hog walks over to Dave's map table.  It was knocked over by all the gunfire, and a 3D map, with a large rock to represent one of the mountain peaks of the Rockies, has fallen to the ground, with the rock broken off from the map.  Hog picks up the rock, and takes a good look at it.]

Hog: If Bushie is in that chamber, I want to be ready for him.


TO BE CONTINUED….

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 27 (2x07) "I Have An Interesting Development That Is Trying To Brew"

Salt Lake City city streets, exterior

[We see a raging battle going on on the streets....a multi-sided battle between US military commandos, Mormon militias, Islamists, and organized crime.  Then a fifth army sweeps in.....the Atlas moderators, newly arrived from Cheyenne Mountain.  Each of them displays considerable moderation powers, which makes them the most powerful fighting force on the battlefield.

Nym directs his fellow moderators, as they advance:]

Nym90: Try not to create any fatalities!  We want to get as many of them on mod review as we can, so we can question them, and locate that missing copy of the Atlas!

Secret underground Xerox lab, interior

[Muon and Seamus have just recently finished explaining their backstory to Blondie, when PiT calls them over to a TV monitor, where he's tracking the battle outside.

PiT (The Physicist): Look at *this*.

[The others crowd around the monitor, and Blondie immediately recognizes the moderators.

Blondie: I know them!  I just saw those guys last night, when they saved me from the Space Bikers!  Those are the Atlas moderators.

PiT (The Physicist): Their power seems to be considerable, and they're taking many prisoners from all of the opposing forces.

Blondie: Can't we use this to our advantage?  Isn't this the perfect distraction that would allow us to go rescue Hog?

Seamus: Rescue Hog?  No, don't be absurd.  We can't get into Winfield's bunker.

Blondie: Well, you said that you have a spacetime machine here, right?  It's not just time you can travel through, but it can take you to any location you want as well, right?  Why not use it to get over there?

Seamus: That facility is vast, and we don't have the blueprints.  How would we prevent ourselves from transporting ourselves right into a wall, and suffocating?

Unless......

Blondie: Unless?

Seamus: The bunker is a heavily guarded fortress.  However, there is a small thermal exhaust port, right below the main port.  The shaft leads directly to the reactor system.  A precise hit will start a chain reaction, which should destroy the station.  Only a precise hit will set up a chain reaction.

Sorry, Star Wars reference.

Blondie: I don't know what that is.  I'm only a--

Seamus: Yes, yes.  You're only a dog, and you've never seen Star Wars.

Look, the point is, yes, there is a ventilation shaft that we know the location of.  Though to get from there to any kind of real access to the bunker would require you to dig your way through at least 30 feet of Earth.

Blondie: I'm a dog.  Digging through the ground is my specialty.

Seamus: But we can't let you do that, because powering up the spacetime device to get you there would attract Winfield's attention.  He could very well track us down here very quickly.

Blondie: But he'll eventually find you anyway, right?

Look, I'm just a dog.  I can't pretend to understand the risks you might face.  Though it seems to me that if we just sit here, then Winfield is probably going to end up finding you eventually.

What I do know is that I began this adventure with Hog, and we were soon joined by RickRoll.  And those two risked their lives to save me from those Space Bikers.  RickRoll paid for it with his own life, and it tears me up to know that there's no way for me to repay him.

But I *can* repay Hog.  This time, he's the one being held prisoner, and it's up to me to rescue him.  I hope you'll help me to rescue him.  We probably won't make it back here alive, but if we do......If we do, then I hope you're also willing to send us back to our own time.  You say that there's nothing that can be done to change history--that whatever we do in the past has always happened.  Well maybe that's so, but at least let us go back there.  Let us go back and live out our own lives in our own time, so that this machine can be used for some good.  And then, if it's too dangerous for it to fall into Winfield's hands, you can destroy it for all I care.  Maybe you can make your way to Canada on your own, and meet up with those international scientists, so you can rebuild it there?  I don't know if that's feasible, but you can try.

[Seamus takes a minute to absorb Blondie's heartfelt words.  And then…]

Seamus: Digging through 30 feet of earth isn't easy.  If you're going to try to break into Winfield's bunker, I'll go with you, at least until you make it through the entrance.

Muon, how soon can you have the spacetime device powered up, and ready to transport us over there?

Winfield's bunker, hallway interior

[Dave and Hog are making their way down the hallway that leads towards the holographic imaging chamber.  They've been lucky so far, in not running into any more of Winfield's robots, but they now face a very long corridor, at the end of which is the imaging chamber.]

Hog: What's that ahead?  Not a robot, but a....person?

[We see someone stepping out of the imaging chamber, but the lighting is poor and he's cloaked in shadow.  But then he steps into the light, and we see that it's.......

....Bushie?

But that's him in the flesh, not the holographic version that we've seen before.  It's now clear that the hologram was masking his true appearance, as this Bushie has lost a good deal of weight, doesn't have glasses, has a very different haircut, no moustache, but instead a bunch of stubble so that he looks like......

he looks like......

but it can't be......

Hog falls to his knees as he comes to the realization, and screams:]

Hog: NO!  That's impossible!  It can't be!  I can't be!

[And we now get a series of flashbacks that foreshadowed Hog's true identity:]











[Hog is now lying on the floor, rocking back and forth in disbelief.]

BushOK: I know you don't want to face reality, Hog, but it's true.  Winfield lied to you about your identity.  The truth is....I'm you.  You're me.  Or should I say....you're the me that I will become once I go back in time to 2008 and lose my memory.


TO BE CONTINUED….

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 28 (2x08) "You Can't Give A Man Advice If You Render Him Unconscious"

[NOTE: At the end of the previous episode, we learned that Hog is actually Bushie, but displaced in time.  However, I'll continue to refer to "Bushie" and "Hog" as separate characters, to make things less confusing.]

Winfield's bunker, hallway interior

[Dave and Hog are standing near the holographic imaging chamber with Bushie, who's just revealed to them that Hog is a future version of himself.  Hog is still in disbelief, rocking on the floor and muttering to himself.]

Dave: I knew Hog looked familiar to me.  Hard to believe I didn't figure it out earlier.  I guess my vision must be fading in my old age!

Thanks,
Dave

BushOK: Yes, he is me.  I know I appeared to him as a hologram these past two days, but that image was doctored to make me look more like my old self.

Let me explain.....

As you know, I was in Kenya when the gay marriage ruling came down, way back in 2013.  I fought extradition back to the US, but my legal fight was ultimately overshadowed by two events: First, the Islamist insurgency that swept the western US, and second, the increased popularity of Update, and the negative publicity this generated for me.

My father brought worldwide attention to Update, after he discovered that I had been posting every detail of my life online.  While Update had many fans, the majority disapproved of my life choices, and particularly blamed me for my treatment of my dog J.J., which apparently led to him running away.....though I now realize that his disappearance can be explained by the fact that he was sucked into a tornado that brought him here, to the year 2029.

Anyway, the negative publicity I brought to Kenya impacted my job prospects there, though I did eventually score a big payday when Dr. Pepper hired me to sing the promo song for their Kenyan ad campaign for Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper, modeled after Tay Zonday's Cherry Chocolate Rain:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2x2W12A8Qow

I was a celebrity in Kenya, but one with a very negative image.....like a Paris Hilton, or a Charlie Sheen, or a Walt Disney.  I did eventually find myself into something of a celebrity arranged marriage.  The Oscar-winning Kenyan actress Lupita Nyong'o had been working in Hollywood, but moved back to Kenya when Hollywood was taken over by Islamists.  We married, and we had......we had......

I had.....a daughter.  My wife, Lupita, was pregnant.  And we were to have a baby, and I'd never been so happy in my life.  But I took her to an Ameriplan hospital in Nairobi to deliver the baby, and the medical care there was subpar.  Not up to the high standards set by the Ameriplan facilities in the US.

My dear Lupita, and my little girl, both died during the childbirth.  I was so devastated that I couldn't even look at their corpses.

By this time, I was of course no longer writing Update, but Update's most ardent fans had become so starved for information from me that they took to following me around like groupies wherever I went, shouting Update catch phrases.

Nairobi, Kenya, 2018

[Bushie, more depressed than at any time in his life, leaves the hospital following the death of his beloved wife and stillborn daughter.

A pack of "Update" groupies surrounds him, and begs him for information.]

BushOK: (wiping away tears) I'm sorry my friends, but I don't feel like providing any updates today.

[The crowd boos Bushie for not giving them what they want.]

Random Update Groupie: Come on Bushie!  We're here to help you!  You owe us every scrap of information you can provide!  What were you doing in that hospital?  Brief relaxations?  CLeaning up the meat?

BushOK: My friends, it's really none of your business!  But if you must know, my wife and daughter just died.  The Lord has taken them away from me.

Update Groupies in unison: RIP Lupita.  RIP baby.

BushOK: You people are sick!  I pour out my heart to you day after day, and when I need help and encouragement, you just spout stupid slogans from Update?  I've had it!

[Bushie pushes his way through the crowd and runs off into the distance, as the crowd boos him for abandoning them.

Later that night, Bushie is alone, sitting on a hillside, looking up at the stars.]

BushOK: (in prayer) Father, I know that you have a plan for me, just like you have a plan for everyone, and it was your will that I move to Kenya.  You spoke to me, and I heard your voice, even though Inks never believed me.

But I feel like I've made a wrong turn somewhere.  This is the worst day of my life, and I have no one to turn to.  Because of Update, everyone either hates me, or they're just pretending to be my friend.  But they don't really care about me.  What can I do to escape this misery?

Back in 2029, Winfield's bunker, hallway interior

BushOK: After that, I tried to make a fresh start for myself.  I shaved my moustache, got that stomach surgery to lose weight, and got contact lenses, so I wouldn't have to wear glasses anymore.  I was basically unrecognizable to everyone, and the Update groupies were never able to locate me again.

I actually felt like I was making some slow progress with my life as the years went on.  OK, so I still don't know how to swim, but I don't think I'm as gullible as I once was, and I do have more dedication to my work.

Unfortunately, while I'm more dedicated to my job now, my new career may not be the greatest.

After some time, I felt like I had done everything that I could in Kenya, and I was itching to return to the USA.  Unfortunately, the legal situation made my return difficult, but I did manage to swing something.

Nairobi, Kenya, 2022, Bushie's bible study group

[Bushie is explaining his new career to his fellow bible studiers:]

BushOK: I have a new job!!!  For a while now, I have been corresponding with a website design and development firm who saw my resume on Career Builder about an opening for an Assistant Manager position.  The headquarters for this company is actually in Auckland, New Zealand, but I would actually be able to work at their branch in Salt Lake City, UT, which would allow me to return to the United States, since Salt Lake is no longer under the control of the US government.  It would offer much higher pay and pretty darn good benefits, including health and disability, vacation pay, sick pay, social security, and even workman's compensation, as well.  Right now, at Maisha, I am pulling in a measley $26,000 a year which may increase to $27,500 in 2023, but with this new company, I would be pulling in $54,000 a year, which is $4500 a month payable semi-monthly.  The hours would even be much, much better as well such as 9 am - 3 pm Monday-Friday.  They have already told me they want me and I'm now waiting on them to answer my specific questions.  They have already sent me the contract which I need to print out, sign, scan, and send back to them in an e-mail along with my ID.  They way it's looking now, I could be starting no later than August 31, which is only 6 weeks from this Wednesday.

Back in 2029, Winfield's bunker, hallway interior

BushOK: Unfortunately, I didn't think to check Hoover's or linkedin, and soon found that the company hiring me was something of a fraud.  It turned out to be Winfield, who tricked me into signing a contract that forced me to live here in this bunker, maintaining this computer systems relating to this bunker's holographic projection systems, and maintaining Winfield's robot servants, while having no contact with the outside world.  I am forced into staying here until such time as Mitt Romney is inaugurated as president of the United States, as per the terms of my contract.

However.........

In the very early morning hours of yesterday morning, I was awakened by an NSAbook weather alert, which alerted me to the tornado forming in Oklahoma, which I quickly recognized as being a time vortex connected to the same storm system in June 2013.  Our computer systems managed to identify two occupants of the storm system: One, my dog J.J., and the other......me.

[Bushie points to Hog.]

BushOK: Yes, I quickly recognized that one of the time travellers was a future version of myself.  And so, Winfield and I concocted this story that led me into manipulating the two time travellers to come here to Salt Lake City, since Winfield needed the future me to unlock the location of that Xerox lab.  Of course, I also had to disguise my appearance, appearing fatter, moustached, and glassesed, in order that they not realize that I was Hog and Hog was me.

But it was clear that Hog was in fact me.  So what does that mean?

Well, between the existence of this time travelling tornado, and "Hog's" appearance here, it means that time travel does exist, and so I'm assuming that Muon's time machine is real.  And apparently, at some point in the near future, I will travel back in time to 2008, lose my memory, become a hobo, etc., etc.  I'll become "Hog".  I have to assume that what happens is that Winfield and I try to send me back to that year to fix things up for Gov. Romney's presidential hopes, and something goes wrong, so that I get amnesia, and end up on the street.

But here's the thing.  Now that we know that's what happens, why can't we change it?  Why can't we be more careful this time, and prevent me from losing my memory?  Maybe we can send some of these robots with me or something, I don't know.

Because if time travel exists.....well, I just can't believe that God would make it so that you can't change anything, like in 12 Monkeys.  That would be a cruel joke.  Because if I *do* get a chance to travel through time, then the first thing I want to do in the past (after I fulfill my contractual obligation by getting Mitt Romney elected president) is to shake some sense into my younger self so that I don't end up failing at so many things over and over and over like I did the first time around.

And actually, the biggest thing I want to tell my younger self to do is to never start the Update thread.  That thread caused me so much pain, misery, embarrassment.......

I mean, I want to make sure that that thread is never created--and that the gay marriage Supreme Court decision never happens, which shouldn't be a problem, since Winfield promised that a President Romney elected in 2008 would appoint strict constructionist judges.

I just have to believe that even though everything that happens is part of God's plan, that sometimes God decides to change his mind, and lets you go back to make your life better.  That's what's kept me going these past few years, and that's what---

[**THWACK**

Bushie is struck in the head by a rock, and his bloody body falls to the ground.  He's still breathing, but rather seriously injured.

Dave looks back at Hog, who apparently threw the rock at Bushie.

Dave shoots Hog a dirty look, but Hog just shrugs it off.]

Hog: I'm sorry.  Yes, I know he's "me", but I just couldn't listen to him talk any longer.  I've been waiting for so long to hit him with a rock, and I don't regret it.


TO BE CONTINUED….

Looks like it wasn't the time travel that did the brain damage. ;D

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 29 (2x09) "The Day Always Begins At Midnight"

Abandoned factory in Salt Lake City, interior

[Nym and Inks are looking over a map of the city in the middle of the room, plotting their next move.  Nym points to various locations on the map, as he opines:]

Nym90: I want Master Jedi and Mr. Moderate to push forward from this location.  We have to sweep out the remaining enemy forces in the inner suburbs--

[Nym is interrupted by Beet, who now enters the room, gripping Twister by the arm.]

Beet: I have a new prisoner for you here, sir.  Someone who I thought you might know.

Nym90: Well, well, well.  Mr. Twister!  Or should I say....Aizen?

[Twister morphs into his alter ego, Aizen.]

Aizen: Yes, yes, you caught me.  What do you want, a cookie?

Inks: What are you doing here?  I don't remember any of your sock accounts ever coming from Salt Lake City.

Aizen: I came for the skiing.

No, seriously, whatever I tell you, you're not going to believe me anyway, are you?  You're just going to hound me to try to find any inconsistencies in my story, just like you did with my sock accounts, aren't you?

Inks: I was only ever interested in uncovering the truth.

[And we flash back to:]


Aizen: Well look, we can sit here all day and debate who's telling the truth and who's lying, or who lies about lying, or who eats grapefruit for breakfast, or who ran over whose dog back in high school....but that's not what I want to tell you about.

I allowed myself to be taken as your prisoner, because I think there's something that you should know, that I think only you have the power to act on: The leader of the Islamist insurgency isn't Fredward, as you've been led to believe.  It's actually someone who was a frequent poster on the Atlas forum many years ago: Winfield.  And he's right here, in Salt Lake City.  He's holed up in large underground base, which you can find underneath the Olympic Park, constructed for the 2002 winter games.

Nym90: Winfield?  Can this be true?  If he's the leader of the Islamist insurgency, then he's one of the biggest perpetrators of personal attacks in modern history!  And we didn't infract him for all those posts in which his gushing Mitt Romney fandom constituted excessive hyperbole when we had the chance.

Beet: Sir?  Isn't this a bit of a distraction?  We came here to find the last copy of the Atlas, didn't we?

Nym90: Yes, of course we did, Beet.  And that's still the priority.  You should continue to guard the prisoners, while the rest of the moderators work on clearing the city, hunting down and capturing anyone who might have an idea as to where that copy of the Atlas might be, so that we can interrogate them.  Inks, I want you in charge of interrogations, beginning with Aizen here.

But as for me.....I'm going to find Winfield.  If he became a terrorist leader because we let him get by with minimal punishment for his transgressions on Atlas.......well then, this is on my head.  It's my responsibility to deal with him.

Inks: But you're going after him by yourself, sir?  That fortress must be heavily guarded.  It sounds dangerous.

Nym90: No, I won't go alone.  I'll take one other.

Winfield's bunker, hallway interior

[BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter is searching through the bunker, looking for a way out, when she stumbles upon Yougo1000, who was on his way to pick up some new crayons for map coloring.]

BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter: Excuse me kid, I was summoned by two hapless fools to help them with a jail break, but now I'm just trying to find my way out of here.  Can you show me where the exit is?

Yougo1000: How did you get here?  They don't allow kids in here.

BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter: They don't allow kids here?  What about *you*?

Yougo1000: I'm special.

BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter: Oh yeah?  Well I'm "special" too.  I'm imaginary.  Eternally trapped in the form of a 10 year old girl, waiting to be summoned to help the helpless by inflicting R-rated violence on their tormentors.

Yougo1000: You've been 10 for a long time?  Me too!  We should be friends.

BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter: Ugh.  Please no.  Just tell me how to get out of here.

Yougo1000: OK, well, I only know the long way.  So it could take us a couple of hours to reach the exit from here.  That would be past my bed time, but I'll walk you there, because I'm so excited to have a new friend.

BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter: Ugh.  I'm going to regret this.

[Yougo starts walking down the hall, and BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter begins to follow him.....reluctantly.]

Yougo1000: In honor of our new friendship, I'll write a timeline about a president who doesn't age.  1960 A young George Romney is elected president and uses Albert Einstein's relativity theory to run really fast and slow down his ageing.

[And we fade to….]

underground passageway, 10 feet above a ventilation shaft to Winfield's bunker

[Blondie and Seamus are furiously digging away, trying to reach the ventilation shaft, to give them access to the bunker.  Seamus suddenly receives a call on his cell phone.]

Seamus: (to Blondie, before answering the call) It's Muon.

[Seamus presses a button to receive the call.]

Muon2: (voiceover) Seamus, can you hear me?  The EMP is preventing us from communicating with the outside world, but cell towers within the city itself seem to be functioning at some level.

Seamus: What EMP?  What are you talking about?

Muon2: (voiceover) The US military.  Just after you and Blondie transported over there, I managed to decode the military transmissions that we were intercepting.  The commandos had come in, and were making a big push against the Islamists, the Mormon militias, and the crime syndicates, but then when the Atlas moderators swooped into town, their powers were too great for the commandos to counter.

Now the Pentagon apparently thinks that there must be some kind of new superweapon at work here, given how powerful these Atlas mods have become.

Their commandos are seriously outclassed, so they've ordered a withdrawal of their forces from the city.

Seamus: But that's good, isn't it?  If they were losing to the moderators, then their withdrawal will mean less bloodshed.

Muon2: (voiceover) It isn't good, Seamus.  They're withdrawing, but they're also blanketing the city with an EMP attack.  I can apparently communicate with you within the city itself, but all lines out of the city are dead, the internet is down, and I can't power up the spacetime device anymore.  We're isolated here, with no way of communicating out of the city to ask for help.

Seamus: Why do we need to ask for help?

Muon2: (voiceover) The order for the EMP is a prelude to a new attack.  Given the apparent high level of resistance the commandos ran into here, and the new technology they were up against, President Naso has ordered a nuclear strike against the city.


TO BE CONTINUED….

This seems as good a time as any to give an update (ha!) on the status of this story, in terms of how far along we are.  When I posted Episode 20, I said that I was splitting the story up into two "seasons" of 20 episodes each.  I figured the second season would also have about 20 episodes, which would mean 40 episodes total.  But I was unsure about the exact number.

Well, now we're 9 episodes into the second season, so 29 overall so far.  I do have notes in bulletpoint form which tell me what each scene is from now until the end of the story.  I don't know what the exact number of remaining episodes is, but if the episode breaks line up where I have them preliminarily slotted, then there are 11 episodes left (so we would indeed go to 40 episodes), however I also have an epilogue planned, which will probably be long enough to count as an extra episode.  But that's very preliminary, and I've underestimated how long things would go before.

You could also think of the story as a 3 act play, in which case we're surely getting into Act 3 now.  Maybe we already did after the big exposition episode (25), or maybe after Bushie's exposition episode (28), but if not, then surely the reveal of an imminent nuclear attack sends us into the third act.  From here, we build up to the climax, which will take place around ep # 34-36 or so, and then the remaining episodes are dénouement.

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 30 (2x10) "I'm Pretty Excited About The Interview"

underground passageway, 10 feet above a ventilation shaft to Winfield's bunker

[Blondie and Seamus have taken a break from digging, as Seamus has taken a phone call from Muon.  Muon has just informed Seamus that the US military is preparing a nuclear strike on the city.]

Seamus: Why would they do that?

Muon2: (voiceover) Like I said, after the commandos ran into those Atlas moderators, they got spooked by the superpowers the mods were showing off.  Naso's now convinced that the city must have some high value targets, but doesn't think that conventional weapons will be enough.  So he's turning to nuclear weapons.

Seamus: How much time do we have?

Muon2: (voiceover) You know in the movies, how they often have a ticking clock, where they know exactly how many seconds are left until disaster?

Seamus: I don't really watch movies, but yes, I understand the concept.

Muon2: (voiceover) Well this isn't like that.  We presumably have a few hours, but I don't have an exact number to give you.

Seamus: What about evacuating the city, or contacting Naso, to plead with him to spare the city?

Muon2: (voiceover) All communication outside of the metro area is blocked by the EMP.  We can't reach the president.  The EMP also prevents me from powering up the spacetime device.  We could drive away, and hope we can get far enough away before the bombs hit, but there are hundreds of thousands of people here, all in different factions who want to kill each other.  And the Atlas moderators control the streets.  How do we even convince them that there is a danger, let alone organize an evacuation?

[Seamus thinks for a few seconds.]

Seamus: OK, here's what we'll do.  You keep monitoring the situation from there.  See if you can figure out any way to get the time machine working.  Blondie and I will keep digging, and we'll make our way into Winfield's bunker.  I'm going to pray that Winfield has the technology somewhere to be able to contact the outside world, even with the EMP.

Muon2: (voiceover) And what are you going to do with it?

Seamus: I'm going to have to convince Winfield to surrender to US authorities.  If we can convince Naso that it's really Winfield who's been running the Islamist insurgency, then, well....he's got himself the highest value target imaginable, if Winfield surrenders.

Muon2: (voiceover) You actually expect Winfield to surrender?

Seamus: I'll have to convince him to do so.  There's no other way.

Winfield's bunker, large storage bay interior

[The room is enormous, with a giant TV screen at the top of one of the walls.  We see Nym blast his way through the front entrance using his mod powers.  He slowly walks into the room, and we see that he's wearing a backpack.

He makes his way to the center of the room, and spins around slowly, looking for any sign of activity.  He then shouts out into the air....]

Nym90: Your fortress was easy for me to find, Winfield!  Don't know why no one's ever found it before.  Now come out here, so I can issue your infractions!

[The TV screen turns on, and Winfield's face is projected from above.]

Winfield: (on screen) My dear friend,

Lest any be misled, please allow me to clear up any misconceptions you may have about your situation.

With the aid of my spy network, I have managed to observe your exploits throughout this fair city.  I note that you and your moderation team have demonstrated tremendous prowess on the battlefield.

However, in this fortress, I am the "modadmin", as you might say.  I maintain control over a potent fighting force, and I have every intention of defending myself.

Nym90: So it is true?  You're leading the Islamist insurgency from this bunker, eh?

Well then, surrender Winfield, and I may allow you a five day stint on mod review before grounding your body into dust.

Winfield: (on screen) All this fuss over yours truly?  Why, what have I ever done to deserve your scorn?

However, if you insist on engaging in vigilanteism, and attempting to "bring me to justice", or whatever euphemism you desire, then as I say, I must defend myself.

[The TV screen turns off, and the room goes dark......but then we see it start to light up again as Nym finds himself surrounded, with pbrower2a robots slowly closing in on him from all sides.  They begin to speak.]

pbrower2a(#1): Interesting point, but if you think about it, these five opinion polls only indicate that since 1900, no Presidential nominee has won between 57.1% (Truman 1948) and 66.5% of the electoral vote (Taft 1908). That is 34 elections, with major changes in the ethnic composition of the electorate, population shifts between the states. the presence or non-presence of women in the electorate, five states being added to the Union, and the electoral representation of the District of Columbia, as well as the secession of states from the Union due to the ongoing Islamist insurgency in the west. Add war and peace, the business cycle, polling, and new technologies associated with campaigning, and the gap remains.

The gap of 49 electoral votes is huge; it's bigger than the number of electoral votes of any state except California. California hasn't been the winning margin in any Presidential election since at least 1900, and is unlikely to play a major role in presidential politics for some time, due to the Islamist takeover.

pbrower2a(#2): An explanation: campaigning politicians close to winning seem to play it safe even if they are behind. They do more advertising, make more campaign appearances, and push GOTV drives in states on the margin of victory. They don't dare risk losing any votes that they already have, as that could put the election out of reach. With a little luck and some shrewd electioneering a candidate slightly behind his opponent in early October might pull off a seeming miracle.  A candidate barely winning might simply play it safe. A candidate who thinks that he has 280 electoral votes lined up isn't going to take undue chances and try for 320 or 330 at the risk of losing such a state as Michigan.

pbrower2a(#3): Not so fast. Republicans have different priorities in spending; they heavily support business subsidies and war profiteering. Low taxes? They simply don't raise taxes on the rich, but they usually find ways to shift taxes onto the non-rich. Waterboarding is torture, and when we torture we lose our moral credibility. People who ordered, authorized, or covered up waterboarding belong in a federal prison, ideally with fellow terrorists such as those that we have arrested for involvement in terrorist acts against the United States and its citizens.

pbrower2a(#4): Moral values? Like crony capitalism, Jack Abramoff's rip-offs of Indiana tribes, lying about weapons of mass destruction to start a war (a war crime in itself!). Of course I already mentioned waterboarding. There have been some credible reports that some of the so-called suicidal hangings at  Guantanamo were in fact manual strangulation -- hangings don't break the hyoid bone, but strangulation invariably does, which is one way in which some murderers are proved.  The outing of Valerie Plame Wilson after her husband contradicted the President's lie that Iraq under Saddam Hussein had prohibited weapons and weapons programs in 2003. Aldrich Ames and Robert Hanssen rightly rot in a federal prison  for betraying American intelligence agents to the USSR and Russia for personal gain -- shouldn't people rot in prison  for betraying American intelligence agents so that they can corrupt the political process?

[Nym looks around him, and now sees no fewer than 20 pbrower units moving in on him, all spouting such inanities as those transcribed above.  But he doesn't panic.  He takes off his backpack, opens it up, and pulls out a contraption inside.  Pressing a button on the device, it unfolds into Iron Man-like battle armor, which Nym becomes encased in.]

Nym90: Time to infract some spammers.

Winfield's bunker, holographic imaging chamber, interior

[Dave and Hog are furiously flipping through manuals, trying to work out how to activate the holograms.  Bushie's limp body is slumped on the floor.  They apparently dragged it into the room from the hallway, where Hog had pelted Bushie with a rock, and knocked him cold.

Dave gestures over at Hog, as if he's about to say something.]

Hog: Don't.  Don't start with me again.

Dave: I would just like to point out that User Number 1387 knew how to use this machine.  And if he were conscious, he might be able to assist us.

Thanks,
Dave

Hog: And what makes you think he would have helped us?

Dave: So you don't believe that he's really you?

Thanks,
Dave

Hog: Oh no, I believe it.  I mean, I don't want it to be true, but look at him.  He is me.  Can't deny that.

But I would still never trust him.

No, we ask him to help us, and he'll betray us, just like he did before.  Maybe that is my past self.  Maybe I once was Bushie, as terrible as that may be to imagine.  But if so, then that part of me is dead.  There's just Hog now, and there's no going back.

[Dave has already tuned out Hog's words, as he seems to have stumbled across something in his reading of the technical manuals about how to operate the holograms.]

Dave: Ah ha!  This should do it.

Thanks,
Dave

[And with that, Blondie enter the room.]

Hog: Blondie?!?  I can't believe it's you!

[Hog rushes over to hug Blondie.....or, hug?  pet?  whatever is the normal way for a man to show affection for a dog.]

Blondie: And I can't believe I actually found you.

Hog: How did you get here?  What are you doing here?

Blondie: I was brought here by, well, the "Irishman".  It's a long story.  We snuck in here together, and split up.  He went off looking for Winfield, going to try to convince him to surrender to US authorities.

[Blondie pauses, and then points over to Dave.]

Blondie: Who's your friend here?

Hog: Oh, that's Dave.  And this--

[Hog points down at the unconscious Bushie.  Blondie reacts in shock when he sees that the Bushie of 2029 actually looks remarkably like Hog.]

Blondie: Wait, what?  Ummm....you do realize that that's.....

Hog: Yes, he's me.  I'm Bushie.  It's probably as long a story as your "Irishman" story.

Dave: Listen.  I don't mean to interrupt, but I believe I now understand this manual well enough to operate this device. I think I can get this holographic system working now, though it looks like it'll only be able to transmit within a fairly local radius within the city.

Thanks,
Dave

Blondie: Yes, apparently the US military is jamming any signals outside the metro area.

[Dave now brings up a holographic display of the city streets outside, which features several shots of his former moderators engaged in battle with local militias.  Dave frowns at the sight of it.]

Dave: I can't believe this.  I gave them those moderation powers to safeguard the Atlas forum.  I never intended for them to use them in such a manner.  I guess I'm going to have to put a stop to this.

Thanks,
Dave

[Dave punchs a few buttons at the controls of the holographic imaging chamber, then steps into the interior of the chamber, and begins recording a message to the moderators, which is then transmitted to their cell phones.  The message is composed in Leip-style, as a letter to his moderators.  We flash to several moderators around the city.....Master Jedi, Joe Republic, Badger, AndrewCT, etc., stop what they're doing when they hear their phones ring, pick up the phones, and then view Dave's message, which is as follows:]

Dave:

Hi,
It's come to my attention that many of you have been using your moderation abilities in a manner that is not wholly consistent with their intended usage.  The purpose of the moderation powers that have been granted to you is to moderate the Atlas forum.  As the Atlas forum no longer exists, my preference would be for you to desist from using these abilities immediately.

A few potential abuses of said powers seem particularly egregious.  For example, I do not think it is appropriate for any of you to place anyone on moderator review who has not signed up for the forum nor agreed to the Terms of Service.  More importantly, I do not think it appropriate for any of you to use your powers to execute another human being for any reason whatsoever.  There are plenty of other places on the web where this is allowed, but it is not consistent with the vision I have for Atlas and its moderation team.

At this time, I would like for all of you to meet me in Winfield's bunker as soon as possible.  I will text you the coordinates in a followup message.  When we're all here, we can discuss the future of Atlas moderation in a post-Atlas world in greater detail.  In the meantime, if any of you have any questions, the easiest way to contact me is by email.

Thanks,
Dave

[And the message ends.]

Abandoned factory in Salt Lake City, interior

[Inks has been interrogating Aizen, now in the guise of "The Professor" for some time now.  He is currently questioning The Professor's academic credentials.]

Inks: And where did you do your graduate studies?

The Professor: You're still very young, and I don't think the youth of today should be spoon fed such answers.  You'll get farther in my class if you work these things out on your own.

Inks: And what class is--

[Inks is cut off by his phone ringing.]

The Professor: I never allow such disruptions in my classroom.  I know how to create an environment conducive to successful instruction, which is why I am a professor.

[Inks mutes the phone without looking to see who is calling him.  Then places the phone on the chair next to him.]

Inks: No distractions here.  Now, let me ask you a few more questions.  I know you're going to slip up soon and reveal the truth, as I don't buy for a minute that you're actually telling the truth about this "classroom".

[And we pan down to Inks's phone, which shows "Dave Leip" on caller ID.  It rings away on vibrate, as Inks ignores it.]


TO BE CONTINUED....

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 31 (2x11) "I Can't Really Stand Up For That Long"

Winfield's bunker, large storage bay interior

[The robot corpses of all the pbrower units are strewn across the room as Nym is triumphant.  Only one of them remains (barely) active, struggling to its feet, as it continues to offer non sequiturs to Nym.]

pbrower2a: Modern campaigns are now done by air, so being near a major air hub (O'Hare International Airport is about as big as there is) is a huge advantage for the President and his staff -- and the efficiency and co-ordination of staff are both essential to an effective campaign. Such may matter less for a VP candidate who doesn't have much control of the logistics of campaigning for anyone but himself.  The state now matters less than does proximity to an air hub.  Thus, I believe that a small state senator is at a distinct disadvantage in the so-call "veepstakes".

Nym90: That's preposterous.  No sentient being could believe that.

5 points for trolling.

[Nym lets out a burst of red electricity, which envelops the pbrower unit, and causes it to crash to the ground, shattering into many pieces.

Nym now looks up at the TV screen at the top of the wall in front of him, and yells out....]

Nym90: Is that all you have to throw at me Winfield?

[Winfield's face reappears on the screen.]

Winfield: (on screen) Not at all, my dear friend.

I will say that your fighting prowess is formidable for a Democrat.

But alas, I cannot imagine a scenario in which you achieve victory today.

Not when you have yet to fight the greatest champion of all.......pbrower2b!

[A giant robot....a much larger version of the pbrower2a models, who towers over Nym at about 15 feet tall.....approaches Nym from out of the darkness in front of him.  This robot, apparently named pbrower2b, has a D-MI avatar on his torso, matching that of Nym himself.]

Winfield: (on screen) You see, after years of examining tissue samples from the good Mr. Leip, not to mention by loyal employee BushOklahoma (who was himself once an Atlas moderator), my robot design team has managed to harness the power of Atlas moderation to create this, a worthy cybernetic opponent for the Atlas modadmin!

He can match you infraction point for infraction point, anticipating your moderation decisions before you even realize you've made them!

Farewell, dear Mr. Nym90.  Just remember these words when my cybernetic servant infracts you into oblivion: The Winfield legacy lives on!

[The TV screen again shuts off, and Nym is left to face pbrower2b without any further taunts from Winfield.  The two combatants circle each other uneasily, until pbrower2b breaks the silence:]

pbrower2b: I have seen the GOP do it so often in recent times -- find a stealth candidate and have him affect a populist veneer while concealing his loyalty to people who would turn America into the sort of country in which 90% of the people suffer for 5% and the other 5% are the enforcers of the will of the ruling elite. That's the sort of country many of us had ancestors who fled from -- like Imperial Russia or the Austro-Hungarian Empire, Sicily, feudal principalities in Germany, or Ireland during the potato famine.

[Nym90 desperately searches his memory for any sign of an infractable offense.  Until he finally stumbles upon...]

Nym90: You took most of that from a Lunar post from 2010, who was in turn impersonating you!  3 points for copyright infringement!

[Red electricity flows forth from Nym's hands and encircles pbrower2b, but pbrower2b gives him feedback, and the damage is redirected onto Nym, who winces in pain.]

pbrower2b Abuse of moderator authority for a board that you did not moderate in 2010, 3 death points are redirected.

Now, I will provide three possible maps for the 2032 presidential election, and you will correctly identify which contains excessive hyperbole, lest you be entrapped into hitting me with a personal attack.....

Winfield's bunker, large storage bay control room interior

[Winfield is pressing at some buttons in this control room, giving remote instructions to pbrower2b as he battles Nym.  He then hears a familiar voice behind him....]

Seamus's voice: Winfield!

[Winfield turns around to see his old nemesis, Seamus.]

Winfield: Incredible!  I have spent many years searching for you, my dear canine companion.  Never did I imagine that you would surrender yourself to me in this fashion.

Seamus: I'm not surrendering, Winfield.  I'm here to get you to surrender yourself.

Winfield: I'm sorry, but for some unfathomable reason it sounded to me as though you thought that you were the one with leverage in this conversation.  Here, in my own domain?  Why would you expect me to surrender to you?

Seamus: Not to me, Winfield.  To the US government.

This looks like a pretty sophisticated base you have here Winfield.  I imagine that you've intercepted the same transmissions we have.  You must know about the impending nuclear attack.

Winfield: My loyal robotic servants have in fact informed me of this, yes.

Seamus: Well you are smart enough to realize that this fortress isn't strong enough to survive such an attack, aren't you?  We need to get them to call it off.  And the only way I can think of to do that is for you to surrender.  If we can convince President Naso that you really are the leader of the insurgency, then maybe your surrender will be enough to get his forces to stand down.

Winfield: My surrender?  The humble administrator of this facility that you see before you?

Well, isn't it masterful to see that you view me as holding such importance?

Imagine, that my decision to surrender might determine the life or death of the people of this fair city!

What have I done to have such an honor (or curse) bestowed upon me?

Seamus: I'm serious Winfield.  Now come on.  I know the EMP has knocked out communications with the outside world, but you must have some kind of gadget here that'll help us contact the Pentagon.

Winfield: My dear friend, as I have already suggested, I have no intention of giving myself up to an illegitimate government, led by such a red-headed airhead as the one who currently occupies the oval office.

Seamus: Illegitimate government?  What is wrong with you?  Look, Winfield, I understand that you think this is all for a noble cause.  But everything you're doing here is insane.  You think you're doing this for Gov. Romney?  I may not think much of my former master, but he would never approve of your actions over the past 15 years.  All these deaths that you're already responsible for, not to mention the thousands more that you're going to be responsible for, if you don't do everything possible to get the Pentagon to call off this nuclear strike.

Winfield: No, you don't think much of the former Governor of the great state of Massachusetts, do you?  That is your supreme failing.  You were his dog.  Adopted by the Romney family, and taken in, as one of the family.  An amazing gift that I can only dream of.  Yes, I lived in the Romney household for some time.  But to be a true member of the family as you were, and then to betray that gift, to spend the rest of your life trying to undermine the Governor?

I can never understand that.

[Seamus sighs.]

Seamus: Look, how did you expect me to react?  He fed me that experimental drug and kept me locked in a cage most of the time.  And then......he put me on the roof of his car, and drove hundreds of miles into a foreign country.  I'm sorry Winfield, but what did you expect me to do?  There's nothing you can say to convince me.  That man should not be wielding political power, let alone as president of the United States.  That's why I spent all those years doing whatever the hell I could to stop him.

[Winfield covers his ears and winces in pain.]

Winfield: Please, don't use the h-word like that.  I don't handle profanity very well.

Seamus: OK, fine.  But that's not important now.

I reiterate.  Surrender.  Or else we'll all be dead very soon.

Winfield: I very much doubt that.

Seamus: Why?  What kind of trick do you have up your sleeve this time?

Winfield: No matter what the American armed forces manages to throw at us, I am confident that we will survive.  At least while we're here, in this room.

Governor Romney will protect us.

Seamus: What?  What is he going to do?  Isn't he in a coma or something?

Winfield: He is incapacitated at the moment, yes.  But I have Him here, in this very room, and He will keep us safe.

[Winfield presses a button on the nearby control panel, and we see a ~7 foot long tube retract from the wall.  Seamus peers over to see a corpse inside, encased in glass.  It looks a bit like Mitt Romney, but the body has decayed severely, as it looks like he's been dead for many years.  Starting to look a bit like this Nazi:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-DGFuHC75aY ]

Seamus: What is this?  This can't be Gov. Romney, can it?

Winfield: Of course it is!  If your time machine works, then we can make sure that history is changed so that he never makes it into this state.  But even if it doesn't work, with a little UGrow, we can wake him up, and he'll be good as new!

[Seamus now realizes just how far off the deep end Winfield has gone.  It's clear now that whatever "suspended animation" Winfield thought he was storing Romney in did nothing at all.  Romney has obviously been dead for many years, and Winfield is so far gone that he can't recognize that he's simply storing a corpse, not someone "in suspended animation".

Winfield's eyes now look glassy, and he strokes the tube containing Gov. Romney's corpse affectionately.]

Winfield: We will survive this crisis.  I don't care how many nuclear weapons they throw at us.  Nothing can harm you Governor!  You are truly a God amongst men!  Whatever weapons are aimed at this room will simply bounce off, owing to the GREATNESS of the future (or past?) President of the United States of America!


TO BE CONTINUED….

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 32 (2x12) "When You Point The Finger At Someone, There Are 3 Fingers Pointing Back At You"

Winfield's bunker, hallway interior

[Dave, Blondie, and Hog have left the holographic imaging chamber, along with Bushie's unconscious body, who they're carting around on a gurney.  Blondie has just finished filling in Dave and Hog about his encounter with Seamus, the impending nuclear attack, etc.  Dave and Hog have likewise finished filling Blondie in about their experiences with Winfield and Bushie, Hog's true identity as Bushie, etc.  They're trying to make their way to the entrance/exit of the bunker, in an attempt to meet up with the Atlas moderators, who should be descending on the facility shortly, provided that they obey Dave's request.

As they make their way down the hall, the group unexpectedly runs into none other than two Atlas moderators, Badger and Mr. Moderate.]

Badger: Dave?  I'm sorry, Dave Leip, is that really you?

Dave: It is indeed, User Number 3488.  I trust that you received my message?

Thanks,
Dave

Mr. Moderate: Of course.  Why else would we be here?  It's good to see you Dave, after all these years.

Dave: I don't know if we have time for sentimentality just yet.  Listen, are the other moderators here yet?

Thanks,
Dave

Mr. Moderate: That I don't know.  All of us were scattered around the city when we received your message, and I think we all independently decided to heed your call and meet you here, making our way on our own.  I just happened to run into Badger on the way, and we made our way into the bunker, and have been searching for you here for the past half hour or so.  The bunker is apparently unguarded now, as all of Winfield's robot servants were deployed to defend him against Nym.

Dave: User Number 11?  I don't understand.

Thanks,
Dave

Badger: When Nym found out that Winfield was the true mastermind behind the Islamist insurgency, he apparently decided that it would be his personal mission to hold Winfield accountable for his sins.  He's definitely got it in his head that he's now world policeman, and that it's his responsibility to "infract" Winfield to death for his crimes.

Mr. Moderate: I'm sorry that we all got so carried away, Dave.  We've misused these moderator powers that you've given us horribly.  But, well, all those years living in exile in Oklahoma, and then, suddenly, Nym offers us what seems like a realistic chance to rejoin society.  We were all too tempted by it, and too timid to stand up to him when he got out of control.

But he *is* out of control now.  And you may be the only person who can talk him out of it.

Dave: I see.  Well, you don't need to apologize, User Number 2080.  I guess I just didn't give you all sufficiently clear Atlas moderation guidelines when I granted you those powers.  I see now how things might have gotten out of hand.

Thanks,
Dave

Blondie: Look guys, this is all well and good, but if Nym is going to kill Winfield, then we have to stop him.  Seamus said that Winfield surrendering to the authorities might be the only thing that could stop the military from launching their nukes.

Mr. Moderate: Nukes?!?  I'm sorry, what is this about?

[Moderate also just now catches a glimpse of Bushie's unconscious body on the gurney, then looks at Hog, then looks back at Bushie.]

Mr. Moderate: And, um....aren't you....?

Blondie: Yes, he is.  We'll explain everything, but first let's go find Nym.

Winfield's bunker, large storage bay interior

[Nym and pbrower2b are engaged in battle.  Nym continues to find minor infractions in pbrower2b's actions, and attempts to infract him, but pbrower manages to come up with excuses for redirecting the damage onto Nym.  Nym is slowly being worn down.

pbrower's latest tactic is to disorient Nym with an array of highly complex maps with a large number of seemingly nonsensical shadings.]

pbrower2b: This map shows how states have voted from 1992-2008. Ignore letters.

()

pbrower2b: Key: Democratic wins 1992-2008

 Clinton twice, Gore, Kerry, and Obama
 Clinton twice, Gore or Kerry (but not both), and Obama or Obama by >10% (Nevada)
Clinton twice, Obama <10%
Ohio -- Clinton once, Obama
Clinton once, no other Democratic wins
Missouri (Clinton twice, Republicans other times, but Obama very close in 2008)
Clinton twice, Obama losing by more than 10%
Obama only

NO DEMOCRATIC WINS:

Obama within 10% in 2008
Obama defeated by more than 10% in 2008

Nym90: But what is the purpose of of the "L" in Alabama while there are "Z"'s in--

pbrower2b: I said to ignore letters!  5 points for trolling.

[pbrower emits red electricity in the direction of Nym, which knocks him over.

Nym does manage to get up, but now sounds resigned to his fate.]

Nym90: I guess you've got the better of me today, and so I'll die not having punished Winfield for his crimes.

But just one question that I must know the answer to before you finish me off.  You're a Democratic hack, if you don't mind my crude characterization.  Why are you working for Winfield, who is working to deliver the presidency to Mitt Romney?

pbrower2b: I'm sorry, I don't understand.

Nym90: Winfield, his goal is to deliver the presidency to Mitt Romney.  You're a Democrat, so why do you help him?

pbrower2b: I.....he never told me that that was his plan.

[pbrower, devastated, sits on the ground and contemplates his choices.]

pbrower2b: I would never knowingly do such a thing, to enrich the fortunes of the nation's economic elites, at the expense of the poorest of us.  Those corporate fatcats would rip the food right out of the mouths of--

Nym90: Excessive hyperbole!  10 points!

[Nym now looks reenergized, and it appears that he may have simply been playing possum.  He advances on pbrower2b, shouting:]

Nym90: Trolling!  Personal attack!  Excessive hyperbole!  10 points, 10 points, 10 points, 10 points!

Pbrower2b, you are in violation of the Terms of Service.  You are PERMABANNED!

[As a flood of red lightning pours out of Nym's hands and envelops pbrower, his robotic body is reduced to dust.

Nym then shouts out:]

Nym90: You're next, Winfield!  No one to protect you now!

Winfield's bunker, large storage bay control room interior

[Winfield is still acting rather loopy after slobbering over Romney's lifeless body.  He's very much out of it, but Seamus tries to snap him back to reality, as he realizes that Nym has defeated pbrower2b, and is now coming for them.]

Seamus: Winfield?  Stay with me pal, I need you to come back to Earth.

Winfield: Earth?  Yes, in an ideal world, the Governor might rule over the entire planet, but we may have to settle for just this continent.  I suppose one can't have everything one desires.

Seamus: Look, we've got to get out of this room, and find safety somewhere.  Otherwise, Nym is going to kill you.

[The whole room now shakes, as Nym is attacking the room with infraction attacks.  As red electricity pulses through the walls, the back exit from the room collapses in on itself, leaving the exit to the large storage bay, where Nym waits, as the only way out.]

Seamus: OK, new plan.

We hide.

Abandoned factory in Salt Lake City, interior

[Inks has been interrogating Aizen/Twister/The Professor for several hours now, but not getting anything out of him.]

Inks: OK professor, if that is your real name, we're going to go through this one more time: Where did you get your degree, and who was your PhD thesis advisor?

["The Professor" morphs back into Twister, having now tired of his attempts to troll Inks about his supposed academic career.]

Twister: Is this really all you care about Inks?  Being a lackey for Nym?  Interrogating his prisoners while he's out there doing unspeakable evil?

Inks: Unspeakable evil?  I don't know what you're talking about.

Twister: Don't you?  Tell me something Inks, how many people has he killed in the last 48 hours alone?

Inks: And just how would you know about that?  And why do you suddenly care about Nym?  You're just trying to distract me from my interrogation of you, as I'm just about to get you to crack!

Twister: Don't change the subject!  You know what he's done.  And you don't agree with it, do you?  Executing people over the smallest of infractions?  Is that the kind of Modadmin you want?  Is that why Leip gave you those moderation powers?  Moderation powers!  It's right there in the title!  Don't you think Nym himself could use some moderation right now, since he's taken "moderation" from moderation to extremism?  Surely, in this case, extremism in moderation is a vice?

Inks: I don't think it would be appropriate for me to act unilaterally like that.  Not unless there was consensus among the other mods.

Twister: Lol.  We're talking about the life and death of countless innocent people, and you're worried about consensus?

Inks, I understand that you've always been very lawyerly in your moderation duties, but step back and look at the big picture here.  OK, so today he's going to summarily execute Winfield, judge, jury, and executioner, right?  Maybe it's justified in this case, but what about tomorrow?

You can't blindly follow that man forever, just because Dave put him in charge nearly 20 years ago.  You need to stop and think about what you're doing for a second, rather than just follow orders.

Inks: Even if I wanted to do anything, he's so powerful now that--

Twister: Ah, but is he?  All it would take is two 50 point infractions in rapid succession, and he's done for.  You have to do it quickly so he doesn't reverse the infraction, so you'll need to catch him by surprise.

[Inks shakes his head.]

Inks: Dave specifically gave us that 50 point infraction ability for disposing of sock accounts.  It would be highly inappropriate for me to use that in order to kill another moderator.

Twister: For the love of Dave, Inks, what else are you going to do?  Watch Nym ramp up his abuse of moderation powers until he brings the entire world to heel?  You're just going to sit quietly by his side, because of what Leip said you were allowed to do with your abilities?

[Inks now has a pained expression on his face, as he mulls Twister's words.  He's clearly facing a crisis of conscience, and doesn't know what to do.  Finally, we cut back to the chair at the end of the table, where Inks left his phone at the end of Episode 30.  "Message from Dave Leip" continues to flash on its screen as we fade out.]


TO BE CONTINUED….

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 33 (2x13) "I Cannot Do Anything Good Under My Own Power"

Winfield's bunker, large storage bay interior

[Nym had blasted open a passageway into the control room where Winfield and Seamus had been hiding, but the two of them seem to have escaped into the larger storage bay, where Nym is now searching for them.

Nym yells out to his unseen prey, in an effort to get Winfield to reveal his location:]

Nym90: You cannot hide forever, Winfield!

I thought I'd reached the limit of my moderation powers, but I feel myself achieving new heights as I speak.  I can even look into your mind, and sense your infractable thoughts, ready to personally attack or excessively hyperbolate at any time.

Give yourself up to the judgment of Atlas moderation.  It is the only way you can save your candidate's supporters.

Yes.....your thoughts betray you.  Your feelings for them are strong.  Especially for.....BROTHER!  So....you have a brother!  Your feelings have now betrayed him too.  If you will not submit to my moderation, then perhaps he will.

[We now cut to Winfield and Seamus, hiding behind a storage crate in the dark, cavernous storage bay, unseen by Nym.  At the mention of his brother, Winfield tries to cry out, but Seamus's paw covers his mouth, squelching any noise Winfield might make.

And then back to Nym, who will now have to take a different tack:]

Nym90: Very well, Winfield.  If you will not reveal yourself voluntarily, then I am forced to resort to other means.  My memory of moderation reports is excellent, and there is one weakness which you once possessed, which may yet be your undoing.  Torie?

[Nym turns around to face the back of the room, where we now see Torie entering, looking as disheveled and confused as he appeared to be way back in Episode 9.]

Torie: What the f**$ is this place?  Have we landed on Earth?  Looks like a $@$$ took a ^^^$$ in its own $$$$.  I can't even see my $$## in front of my $$$$ in this $$$$-hole.

[The bad language is enough for Winfield to reach his breaking point.  Defying Seamus, who's trying to hold him back, Winfield leaps out from his hiding place, and yells out to Nym and Torie:]

Winfield: Moderators, please!  These profanities cannot be allowed here!  I demand that the offending posts be removed!

Please discuss.

Nym90: (apparently pleasantly surprised that his plan to draw out Winfield worked) Glad to see that you've seen fit to join us.

Now, I believe we have some business.

It's my birthday, Winfield, and we're going to--

[At that, Seamus emerges from hiding as well.]

Seamus: Hold on a minute, Nym.

Nym90: What's this?  Another talking dog, like the one who managed to get himself kidnapped by Space Bikers at my bar last night?

Seamus: Yes, yes.  Let's skip past the plot exposition, shall we?

I'd rather talk about something else.  Namely, are you aware that the US military is preparing an imminent nuclear attack on our location?  You shouldn't be wasting your time on Winfield.  You should be working with him, to find a way to contact the Pentagon, and convince them to call it off.

Nym90: I'm way ahead of you, my canine friend.  During my many years of exile in Oklahoma, I was forced to rely on a variety of untraceable means of communication, to maintain contact with sources around the world.

[Nym presses a button on his sleeve, and his battle armor then retracts, putting him back in his street clothes.  He pulls a cell phone out of his pocket, and holds it up to Seamus.]

Nym90: I have here.....a satellite phone!  It's capable of cutting through whatever interference the US government might throw up at us.  Once I've disposed of Winfield, I'll call Naso myself, and inform him of my triumph.

Seamus: And you actually think that's going to work?

Nym90: My powers are growing more rapidly than you can imagine.  If I can't convince Naso, then I'm sure I'll be able to deflect any nuclear attack on my own.

Seamus: For the love of Dog, you're more delusional than Winfield.

Nym90: Fortunately, I don't require your endorsement.

[With that, Nym raises his arms as he prepares to strike.  Red electricity begins to build up in his hands.  Winfield still looks somewhat disoriented, but realizes that Nym is about to strike him, and cowers in defense.

But then we hear a voice from offscreen.]

Yougo1000: Leave my brother alone!

[The camera reverses to the other side of the room, where we now see Yougo1000 and BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter.  Yougo runs over to the rest of the group, and jumps in front of Nym's line of sight to Winfield.

Yougo1000: Please don't hurt him.  1961 President George Romney appoints Albert Einstein as Secretary of Science.

Nym90: You?  So you're the brother?  Aren't you the kid who ruined my party in Arkansas City last night as well?

Yougo1000: I just think you should give my brother another chance.  He's not as terrible as he seems on first impression.  1962 The USSR moves nuclear missiles to Cuba, and Einstein uses them to predict the anomalous perihelion shift of the planet Mercury.

(offscreen voice): Nym90!...

[We again reverse angle on the camera, as we see Dave enter the room, along with Badger, Mr. Moderate, Hog, Blondie, and the still unconscious Bushie.  We see that the offscreen voice who called out Nym's name was in fact Dave.]

Dave: ....or should I say, User Number 11?

thanks,
Dave

Seamus: (in reaction to the sight of Dave) This changes everything.

Nym90: (to Dave) What?  Who are you?

Dave: Can it be that you don't recognize the man who entrusted you with these powers?  The powers that you're now misusing so terribly?

thanks,
Dave

[With this, a flash of recognition appears on Nym's face.]

Nym90: Dave....?  So, years of pleading for guidance from you were answered with silence....but now that I'm finally realizing my full potential as Modadmin, you dare to judge the administration of my powers?

Well, I no longer accept your authority.  For that matter, your appearance before me now is perhaps the greatest act of trolling I've ever seen.  In fact, in my capacity as Atlas forum Modadmin, I sentence you to die by your own weapon!

[Nym shoots red electricity out of his hands, in the direction of Dave.  Dave simply raises his right hand meekly, and it absorbs Nym's attack, without doing any damage.]

Dave: I'm afraid your moderation has no effect on me, as I am the administrator.

thanks,
Dave

Nym90: Nevertheless, I will not submit to your authority.  Not after you abandoned me.

Dave: I never meant to `abandon you', as you put it.  I responded to all of your PMs, but my imprisonment in this fortress meant that all of my correspondence to you had to be passed through User Number 287.

thanks,
Dave

Nym90: Oh really?  This changes everything.  Does your family know that Winfield has been intercepting your correspondence?

Actually, scratch that.  This doesn't change everything.  This is all the more reason for Winfield to suffer the ultimate punishment.

Dave: No it isn't.  And I think you know that deep down.

User Number 11, you've disappointed me.  I entrusted you with the ultimate authority to rule over the Atlas forum, a forum that I hoped could be a "safe place" on the internet for discussion of American political cartography.

But you've taken it too far.  You executed people who you found to be in violation of the Terms of Service.  And now you've even taken the Terms of Service outside of the forum itself, using it as a template for law and order across the globe.  It's just an internet forum, User Number 11!  I never intended it to be anything more than that.

thanks,
Dave

Nym90: Didn't you?  You wrote the Atlas forum Terms of Service, the greatest set of governing principles in the history of cyberspace.  I only took it as far as I did because I thought that's what you wanted, Dave.

[Dave shakes his head.]

Dave: No, don't you see?  You've made the same mistake made by the Islamists in their interpretation of the wishes of the Prophet Mohammed, not to mention the same mistake made by Winfield in his efforts on behalf of Gov. Romney.

In each case, you have someone misinterpreting the words of their prophet, taking extreme measures to realize what they perceive as the utopia imagined by said prophet.  But I never meant for the Atlas forum to serve as a model for the wider world.  And even if I did, such a utopia should never be realized via the means that you employ.  Any revision to the US constitution should take place via a regularly convened constitutional convention.

[As Dave has been speaking, the other moderators (Bacon King, AndrewCT, Joe Republic, and the others) have been filing into the room.  They had all received Dave's message earlier in the evening, inviting them to meet him in Winfield's bunker.  They now all appear awestruck by the sight of Dave, inspired by his words.

However, Blondie is less than impressed by the way that Dave is hitting the viewer over the head in his comparison of the themes addressed in the various storylines.]

Blondie: Uh....really Dave?  You're just going to bluntly point out the parallels between the different characters in this story like that.

Seamus: Blondie, please don't break the fourth wall.

[But Dave's words have struck a chord with Nym, who begins to tear up.]

Nym90: I'm sorry Dave, but you're right.  I was out of control there.  I guess things just got out of hand, but you've brought me back down to Earth.  Really, I just should have been humbled by the fact that you chose me to serve as Modadmin all those years ago, and never let the power go to my head.

Seamus: Well, it's nice to see that you're lucid again.  But we have no idea when that nuclear strike is going to hit.  Perhaps we can get onto calling up President Naso to convince him to call it off?

Nym90: You're right, of course.

[Nym pulls out the satellite phone he showed Seamus earlier.]

Nym90: I guess this is the only method we have for contacting the outside world right now, so it's up to me to make the call.  I'll just dial--

[And just at that moment, Nym is struck in the back with an enormous bolt of blue energy, causing his skin to blacken, he then receives another bolt, which causes his body to crumble into dust.  It looks very much like what happens to Starscream in this video:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yLtzA0A7w90

As Nym's body disintegrates, the satellite phone that he was holding in his hands falls to the ground and shatters.

We now pan up to the balcony that was situated behind Nym, revealing that the person who fired on him was Inks, who stands beside Mr. Twister.  They've just arrived in time for Inks to assassinate Nym, as Twister advised in the previous episode.  However, Inks appears to have done this just at the moment of Nym's conversion.

Inks looks down at all of his fellow moderators, who stand there with Dave, Blondie, Hog, Seamus, Winfield, etc.]

Inks: Wow, I didn't think I had it in me.  But I guess I stepped up to the plate at just the right moment, huh?

[The mouths of everyone below are agape.  They're in disbelief at Inks's actions.]

Inks: Why do you all look so concerned? 

Joe Republic: Jesus Christ, Inks, you just killed Nym!

Inks: Yeah, but he was out of control, wasn't he?  I just thought that.....wasn't this what everyone wanted me to do?

Joe Republic: I can't believe this, Inks.  He had our only way of calling off the nuclear attack.  And you killed him.  Nice work!  Can't you do anything right?

Inks: It's just that....Twister explained to me how I had an obligation here, and I just thought that as a moderator.....

[The crowd continues to be in shock, as they stare at Inks in continued disbelief.]

Inks: I mean, if some of you disagree, I understand that.  I didn't sign up to be a moderator to be popular, but I.....

So.....

I'd like to point out that I was the Deputy Modadmin, and Nym is dead now, so I guess I'm in line to replace him.  But it looks like some of you might not be happy about that.....

[Again, crowd in disbelief, staring at Inks.]

Inks: (now angry at them) Well fine then!  I did what I thought to be the right thing, and I stand by my decision.  But if I'm not going to get the support of the other moderators, then I'll just go on temporary leave!  Have fun investigating sock accounts without me!

[And we now pan over to the charred remains of Nym's body, and the shattered remains of the satellite phone.  And we fade out on the funeral dirge version of "The Rains of Castamere":

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TAxNhZoQQ2I  ]


TO BE CONTINUED….

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 34 (2x14) "I Guess You Don't Understand The Concept Of Grace"

Winfield's bunker, large storage bay interior

[Nearly the entire cast of characters in our story are here now: Dave, the moderators, Blondie, Hog, Twister, Seamus, Winfield, Yougo1000, BRTD's imaginary 10 year old daughter, and the still-unconscious Bushie.

Inks has just killed Nym, and destroyed his satellite phone, which was apparently the group's only means of communicating with the outside world, to plead with the US military to call off the imminent nuclear attack on Salt Lake City.  The other mods are voicing their displeasure with Inks by circulating a petition.

Tender Branson walks up to Inks, and pushes the petition in his face.]

Tender Branson: Will you sign this, Inks?

[Inks grabs the piece of paper, and reads...]

Inks: Petition to de-mod Inks?  Really guys?

Joe Republic: Sorry Inks, but what did you expect?  You've doomed us all, and we could all die a fiery death any minute now.  You expect us to keep you as a moderator?

Inks: These signatures aren't even real.  The first one is supposedly Keystone Phil.  He's thousands of miles away!  How could he have signed this in the last few minutes?

Joe Republic: No, that's absolutely real.  I figured this day would come, so I started the petition years ago, and Phil eagerly signed up first.

Inks: But this is unusually specific.  It says "Petition to de-mod Inks in response to his assassination of Nym."  How could you have predicted that?

[Joe pulls out some additional pieces of paper with Keystone Phil's signature, and holds them up for Inks to look at.]

Joe Republic: Phil wanted to make sure that his voice was counted in support of de-modding you regardless of the circumstances, so we came up with every contingency: "Petition to de-mod Inks in response to his moderating while under the influence of hard liquor", "Petition to de-mod Inks in response to his sale of private IP information to corporate advertisers", "Petition to de-mod Inks in response to the recent revelations regarding his role in the plot to assassinate President Kennedy"?

Badger: I'm afraid I've got to reluctantly agree with Joe here.  Most of us have had disagreements about moderating philosophy before.  That's perfectly understandable, given that Dave has been imprisoned for over a decade, and left us to our own devices, with no guidance.  I'm not one to criticize other moderators for their tough decisions in most cases, but killing the Modadmin is a bridge too far, even for me.

Bacon King: I can't believe you guys are wasting time on this conversation.  We're all going to be dead pretty soon, and you're wasting time on this?  Let's get serious here....Dave is never going to read this petition.  This is absolutely pointless.  These petitions don't work.  If you have a case to make about de-modding Inks, then just email Dave rather than waste time with this.

Mr. Moderate: No, there's no time for that.  We need to focus on what we can do in our final moments before we die: Choose a new Modadmin, now that Nym is gone.

Badger: What about you?

Mr. Moderate: Me?

Badger: Well, we don't want Inks.  And I think you'd be relatively uncontroversial, even if there are others with more seniority.

Bacon King: I could go along with that.  But again, Dave is never going to respond to our request anyway, so why are we even bothering?

Seamus: Excuse me people, but may I point out the absurdity of this debate, given that we're all about do die?

Can we get down to the business of finding out if there's any way for us to save ourselves, and this city, now that Nym's shattered satellite phone is out of the picture?

[Seamus grabs the dazed Winfield and tries to shake him into lucidity.]

Seamus: Come on Winfield, think!  When you built this fortress you had to have planned for every contingency!  There must be *SOME* way for us to contact the outside world regardless of the military's attempts to jam any signal.

[Winfield thinks for a minute, and then....]

Winfield: Actually....there is.

Seamus: And?

Winfield: And what?

Seamus: Are you going to tell us what it is?

Winfield: Good question.  I fear that if I assist you in communicating with the outside world, you will use the opportunity to have me incarcerated, and my efforts to install Gov. Romney as president of the United States will face a serious setback.

Seamus: Winfield, you showed me Gov. Romney's corp....uh.....I mean, his comatose body.  If you surrender yourself to the authorities, they'll surely come here to take you in, and see the Governor's glorious, inert self.  Surely, that will....ummm.....spark a nationwide movement to install him as president, no?  I mean, what's the alternative?  We all die in a nuclear blast, including the Governor himself?

Winfield: I don't know.  That doesn't sound very plausible.

Seamus: Are you doubting the raw charisma of Gov. Romney's unconscious body?  You don't think he could lead this nation with his eyes closed?

Winfield: I....I guess I shouldn't doubt Him.

You're right.  I'm sure there will soon be a groundswell of support for Him.  A Silent Majority that can be harnessed to His electoral advantage.

Please discuss.

So, let us proceed with the plan to escape from our present predicament.

There is an emergency internet line that runs deep underground, beneath this fortress, and reconnects with the rest of the so-called "world wide web" somewhere near Denver.  The troll leadership running troll territory in Colorado has never touched it, because they consider ease of internet access vital to maintaining their standard of living.

So with this line of communication, you can reach anywhere in the outside world.  But the connection is very slow.  Not fast enough to support an audio or video call.  The best you could do is send an email of some kind, or perhaps upload an image.

Seamus: Hmmm....I was hoping we could call in your surrender to authorities, but this may be a bit trickier than assumed.

What kind of message could we send that would actually get the Pentagon's attention, given those limitations?

Dave: A fair question.  If the Atlas was still online, then I believe I could devise a message that would attract President Naso's attention.  But without it, this would be problematic.

thanks,
Dave

Twister: You mean this Atlas?

[Twister reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a flash drive, the same one that he showed Blondie and Hog way back in Episode 18.]

Dave: Incredible.  Do you mean to suggest that the source code for my election atlas can be found in that device?

thanks,
Dave

Twister: Yeah, the last remainging copy.  I brought it here from Cheyenne Mountain.  I've had it on me the whole time.  Inks was supposed to interrogate me for information, but he never thought to actually search me for the one thing Nym was looking for.

Dave: Well then, we may just have a fighting chance.

thanks,
Dave

Winfield: No, I'm afraid you don't.  You see, there's no power running from this station's reactor core to the modem that's connected to that internet line.  You have to actually get into the reactor core itself, and manually divert power.  Do you know how difficult that is?

Blondie: Enlighten us.

Winfield: To maintain security here, the security codes for entering the reactor core remain unknown even to myself.  I entrusted that information to a few of my most trusted robot servants.  Robot servants that your friend, the dearly departed Mr. Nym90, has destroyed.

So what do you have to do to get in there now?  Go down to level 9B, reprogram the Rainbow Play Systems computer, which is encrypted in a Kenyan dialect of Swahili, thus allowing you access to the engineering area.  You then release the seal on the reactor core chamber.  It's vacuum sealed, such that only someone familiar with Kirby vacuums would have any hope of breaking it.  Then you enter the reactor core, highly dangerous in itself, and divert power to the modem in question.  But the reactor core is powered by an enriched fuel known as Oklahoma natural gas.  Where are you going to find someone with knowledge of such a fuel, who is also familiar with Kirby vacuums, Rainbow Play computer systems, and Kenyan languages?  That's a rather specific set of skills.

[And just at that moment, Bushie started to stir a little.  He didn't really move, or even open his eyes, but he looked up....looked up at Hog in particular, and then he muttered.....

BushOK: Cleaning up the meat......love on kids......brief relaxation......gotta focus on Christmas, only 11 months away.....

[And with that, Bushie drifted back to unconsciousness.

And at that instant.....a flood of memories, uh, flooded back into Hog's head.]

Hog: I remember.

Blondie: What?

Hog: I remember everything.

Blondie: You mean?

Hog: Yes.  I remember my life as Bushie.

AndrewCT: You're Bushie?  I guess you do sort of look like him.

Hog: Yes, I am.  Didn't you watch the previous episodes?  Try to keep up.  (now facing Seamus)  Listen, Mr. Irishman, I believe I have all the skills you need.  I'm familiar with that Rainbow Play Systems computer, I learned Swahili while living in Kenya for about a decade, I'm well versed in all of the Kirby vacuum's enhanced suction techniques, and I know everything there is to know about Oklahoma Natural Gas.

Seamus: And how do you know how to do all of that?

Hog: Because I was training.  I was training all of my life for this moment and I just didn't know it.

Listen.  I'd forgotten who I was.  I guess it was the fact that I hit myself in the head with a rock and then traveled through time.  That may be the literal reason for my forgetfulness, yes.

But there's a deeper reason.  I forgot who I was because I wanted to forget.  I was thrown into poverty, living the life of a hobo.  I was truly on my own, and had no parents to fall back on, nor a Winfield to offer me a job.

And I guess, subconsciously, I didn't want to face up to the fact that my old life, my life as "BushOklahoma", had left me so ill prepared for adversity.

And so I hated myself.  That is, I didn't know that I was hating *myself*, as I didn't know that I was Bushie.  But I hated....*him*.  That is, Bushie.  The younger Bushie.  The one who'd squandered all the opportunities he was handed and ignored everyone's advice.  The one who'd called the police and began regular patrols when a few hobos wanted to use his unoccupied residence to bring a little joy to their lives.  I wanted to throw a rock at him, to punish him for what he did.  And I eventually did that, and it created the person who you see today.

I also hated Update.  I hated it even before I lost my memory.  I thought that it would never bring me anything other than emptiness and despair.  But listening to that "Update on tape" has jogged my memory, and brought it all back to me.  Update provided a record of all of my old life as Bushie, that will live forever, long after I'm gone.  And it's reminded me of the skills that I have.  The skills that I learned at all of those seemingly dead end jobs, skills that will now save the lives of millions of people, when I prevent this nuclear attack.

Seamus: Actually, it's only hundreds of thousands.

Hog: Whatever.  The point is, yes I screwed up over and over.  Yes, I failed to learn from my mistakes.  But now there's an opportunity for me, here, right now, to put everything I've ever learned to use.  I may be a screw-up who all of you liked to mock, but I can make a difference, here, today.  At least for this one day, I can be proud to be BushOklahoma, star of Update.

Winfield: Even with your skills, it won't be enough.  Nym may have destroyed all of the robots on this level, but there are still some guard droids that are programmed to defend the reactor core at all costs, and that I have no way of calling off.  You will need some serious firepower in order to neutralize them.

Hog: Well then.  (Turns to face Dave)  There is one thing you can do for me......make me a moderator again.


TO BE CONTINUED….

Inks, on the off chance you're reading this, sorry to be picking on you with the de-modding discussion, but I came up with this story a year ago, and didn't know what was going to happen IRL on the forum this year.  And, well, the show must go on.  :P

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 35 (2x15) "There Should Be A Statute Of Limitations For Criticsm"

Winfield's bunker, large storage bay interior

[The gang's all here, debating how to save themselves from nuclear annihilation.  Hog has just remembered his life as Bushie, and volunteered to make the dangerous trip into the bunker's reactor core.  He's just now asked Dave to make him a moderator again, so that he'll be able to fight his way through this mission.]

Joe Republic: (turns to Dave)  Hold on a second.  Are you saying that this guy (points to Hog) is actually Bushie.....and he's asking to be reinstated as a moderator?  So that...what?  We can trust him to save our lives?  Bushie?  You do remember why we was de-modded in the first place, don't you?

Hog: I think we all remember that, Joe.  My de-modding was a consequence of the first of many bad decisions that I made many years ago.  But I've moved on.  I'm ready to begin life as a normal member of society, just like everybody else.  No better and no worse.  I'll start a normal career with the skills that I've learned once I save us all from nuclear attack.  But I'm going to need moderation powers to do that.

Now, maybe you still disagree with me, and *still* don't think I can be trusted, even after all these years.  But I just explained my deep desire to change, and you have no real alternative, so your argument just got tinkled on.

Joe Republic: OK.

Hog: OK, you agree with me?

Joe Republic: No.  OK, I believe that you're Bushie.

Dave: I understand your concerns User Number 1337, but as Atlas administrator, I have to make some hard decisions, and this is one of them.  And it appears that User Number 1387 may be our only hope.

User Number 1387, are you ready?

thanks,
Dave

Hog: Ready as a Rich & Rare whiskey.

Dave: Very well then.

[And with that, Dave takes one step towards Hog, and reaches out to him, granting him moderation powers in the same manner that Jor-El did to Superman in the "re-powering" scene from Superman II (the Donner Cut), see ~3:10 to the end of this video:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uaRNtPA0l2w

Hog's t-shirt now features a red Oklahoma avatar on it, as he's enveloped in red electricity, which then retracts into his hands.

But now we focus on Dave.  His gift of mod powers to Hog has nearly drained the life out of him, and he collapses to the ground.  Several of the moderators rush to his side, to discover that he's still breathing, but very weak.  He lifts his head slightly.]

Dave: Worry not, my friends.  After all these years away from Atlas, that re-moderation has shaken me up, but I will survive.

thanks,
Dave

AndrewCT: No offense Dave, but you look awful.  Are you sure you don't want to lie down for a few minutes?

Dave: There's no time.  I still have enough life in me to direct the reprogramming of the Atlas source code from here.

(turning to the moderators) I'm going to need all of you for this.  I know this has been a roller coaster for all of you, but right now, I need my Atlas moderation team for this job.

It's going to take every scrap of technological and demographic expertise you have.  So it's got to be all of us working on this......that includes you, User Number 1663, regardless of what they may say about your moderation judgment.

thanks,
Dave

[Inks smiles a bit at the suggestion, after having felt rejected by his peers a few moments earlier.]

Blondie: Well, I'm just a dog, so I don't know anything about election map websites.  But I do know how to be man's best friend to my traveling companion of these last few days.

Hog, or Bushie, or whatever you want me to call you now....I'd like to join you on this.

Hog: OK then.  Let's go.

Winfield's bunker, Level 9B, corridor leading to engineering area

[Hog is typing some Swahili instructions into the Rainbow Play computer as Blondie looks on.  It's a little tedious, and Hog begins to make some idle conversation with Blondie as he types.]

Hog: You know, you didn't really need to come along for this.  I appreciate the company, but I think I've got this.

Blondie: You never know when I might prove myself useful.

In any case, who knows if any of this will work?  If not, then I just want you to know.....it's been an honor serving as your traveling companion for these incredible "adventures" we've been having this past couple of days.

Hog: Despite you....and me....now knowing my real identity?  After all, my treatment of you way back in 2013 when I "adopted" you may not have been the best.

Blondie: You are who you are now, and that was many years ago from your perspective.  I'm not going to hold your past against you.  It may be immortalized in Update, but you don't have to be bound to that forever.  There's nothing to stop you from being whatever you want to be now.

[And just then, Hog gets the doors open, and the duo are faced with what lies behind it....a room full of robot nkpatel units, ready to attack.  The red Oklahoma avatar on Hog's shirt illuminates, as he prepares to use his moderation powers for the first time in many years.]

Winfield's bunker, large storage bay control room interior

[Dave lies on his back, directing his moderators as they program.  It's sort of like Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, where Sean Connery has been shot, and he's lying on his back, mouthing words of instruction to Indy about the "Breath of God", "Word of God", and "Path of God".  Except in that case, Indy wasn't in the same room, so it wasn't clear what Sean Connery was accomplishing.  In this case, Dave is similarly injured (his granting of moderation powers to Bushie having sucked most of the life out of him), but the people he's instructing, his moderators, are right there in the room with him.

In any case, they're typing away at computers in this room, trying to use the Atlas code to set up the website just right, for when Hog (hopefully) establishes internet contact with the outside world.  Oddly enough, Dave is offering his instructions in machine language, as it's the programming language that he's most comfortable with.]

Dave: User Number 1799, 10100000 00010100 10110010.  Now, User Number 1478, set the first line on your piece of code to 11010101 10100100.....

[And the moderators respond to his instructions accordingly as they type away.  So, with nothing exciting going on here, we cut back to.....]

Winfield's bunker, Level 9B, corridor leading to engineering area

[Hog has apparently destroyed the bulk of the nkpatel units with relative ease.  However, two of them are left, and they retreat in fear.  They exit through the door into the engineering area that Hog had just opened.

Hog and Blondie run after them.  Before them, they see a long tunnel, at the end of which is a ladder leading up to the next level, where there's an open door.  They chase after the two nkpatel robots, but the nkpatels have a huge lead on them, and are very fast.  They both make it all the way across the tunnel, climb the ladder, and reach the open door while Hog and Blondie are still only about halfway across the tunnel.

One of the nkpatels shouts out:]

nkpolitics1279: In the 2012 presidential election, if the Republican nominee had been Mike Huckabee-AR.
Obama wins PA,WI,IA,and NH-4.
Huckabee win FL,OH,NC,VA,IN,and MO and plus all the other Southern States.
Huckabee selects John Thune-SD as his VP runningmate- giving him AZ,MT,ND,and SD.

[Both robots then exit through the door, close and lock it, and then the door on the other side of the room appears to seal shut as well.

Blondie and Hog stop in their tracks, not knowing what to expect next.

And that's when the tunnel begins to fill with water.]

Blondie: No problem.  We can make our way to the other end of this thing before this room fills up, can't we?  I mean, it'll be deep enough that we'll have to paddle, but--

Hog: Well, there *is* a problem with that.

Blondie: What's that?

Hog: Don't you remember from that "Update on tape"?  I can't swim.


TO BE CONTINUED….

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 36 (2x16) "Everything In My Life In the Past Three Decades Has Led Me To This Point...."

Winfield's bunker, tunnel to engineering area

[As per the situation at the end of the previous episode, Hog and Blondie have been sealed into this tunnel.  At the end of the tunnel is a ladder leading up to the next level, and possible escape.  However, the water level is rising, Hog has just indicated that he doesn't know how to swim, it doesn't look like they're going to make it to the end of the tunnel in time.

Blondie is swimming with ease, but Hog is struggling to keep his head above water.]

Hog: I'll never make it....(glug glug).....you'll have to go on without me......Before I die, I'll give you a 30 second tutorial about Kirby vacuums and natural gas.

[Blondie is paddling for his life, and he tries to save Hog, grabbing Hog with his teeth, and trying to paddle him to safety.  But Blondie's just a puppy, and can't really carry a grown man like that.]

Blondie: Come on, Hog!  How can you not swim?  All you have to do is kick and wave your arms around!  Otherwise, you'll drown.

Hog: (glug glug) I can't do it....

[Hog appears on the verge of losing consciousness.]

Oklahoma City area children's birthday party, 2011

[Bushie is attending a birthday party for the child of a friend of the family.  He is standing in the shallow end of the pool, as he watches the children around him, swimming around and splashing water in his face.  He tries to retaliate, but they just retreat into the deep end, where he can't get them, since he can't swim.]

BushOK: You kids need to get out of the pool now.  It's 19:30, and your parents say you'll miss your bed time if you stay up any later.

[The kids keep splashing him.]

BushOK: Why won't you listen to me?

little girl: You can't stop us if you can't reach the deep end, Uncle Bushie!

[Bushie is fuming, but she's right.  He can't do anything without swimming after them.  And his coordination and rhythm are such that that appears impossible.  He stares at the kids, trying to understand how they're managing to propel themselves through the water.  But it's no use, the lesson doesn't take.

He makes one attempt to lunge forward into the water, but he just sort of belly flops.

We now see that the children are gone, and Bushie is alone in the pool, which is largely covered in a dreamlike mist.  The mist parts, and we see Papa Bushie kneeling at the edge of the pool.]

Papa Bushie: And why do we fall, Master Bushie?

BushOK: So we can immediately quit, and not even give two weeks notice?

Papa Bushie: You'll never learn.  You had countless strangers on the internet who cared about you, giving you sound advice about how to live self-sufficiently, but you gave up and quit on them, just as you have ever since Northrop Grumman.

And that's why you'll die right here, in this bunker, along with so many of those who were only trying to help you.  All because you wouldn't listen to them.

BushOK: Bunker?  What?  Is this a memory or a dream?

Papa Bushie: It doesn't matter.  But I guess saving your friends isn't sufficient motivation for you.

So forget about them.  You don't really care about them anyway, do you?  You never really did anything selfless in your life, so why start now?

No, if you're going to swim, swim in order to save your own skin.  Because if you don't figure it out, you're going to die right now.

Winfield's bunker, tunnel to engineering area, 2029

[We're back on Hog in 2029, and he's focusing on what he observed all those years ago in Oklahoma.  Thinking back to his memory of the kids swimming, he attempts to replicate their movements.....

....and it appears to work.  He is dog paddling.....in slow motion, as we hear Chariots of Fire playing as background music:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RY3XiM7oGj0

Eventually, both Hog and Blondie make it to the end of the tunnel, as the water level continues to rise.  They climb the ladder to the next level.  They're now well above the water, but it's still rising.]

Hog: Thanks for your help back there.

Blondie: Uhhh....maybe we should skip the thanks for now, and make our way out of here before the water level reaches us.

[The red Oklahoma on Hog's shirt begins glowing.  He reaches his hand forward, and electricity shoots out, smashing the lock on the door.  Hog and Blondie make their way through the door, and then shut it quickly behind them.

They then make their way into the next room, which features.....the reactor core.  Except that it's behind a big glass panel, covered in a Kirby vacuum seal.]

Hog: This vacuum seal will take a while to crack, but I can do it.

Blondie: What takes so long?

Hog: It's Kirby.  You can't just snap your fingers to defeat their vacuum seal.  I'll need to go all in on the focus part of it.  I mean, think about it.  Kirby is designed to deep clean, protect and maintain the value of your home.  A Kirby vacuum is a leader in the industry that outlasts the competition every time.

Blondie: Easy there with the commercial.  You don't want to be de-modded again.

Winfield's bunker, large storage bay control room interior

[Dave is still lying on his back, directing his moderators as they program.]

Dave: OK, now, you're going to need the county data for the Pacific Northwest.

thanks,
Dave

AndrewCT: The Pacific Northwest?  Just what kind of image are you making here?

Dave: That should become clear soon enough.

thanks,
Dave

[And we're back to....]

Winfield's bunker, reactor core entrance

Hog: Got it!  I've got the Kirby vacuum seal breached!  All I had to do was change the setting from suck to blow.

[Hog opens the door, and Hog and Blondie carefully enter the reactor chamber.  We see a large, transparent tube extending from the floor to the ceiling.  Natural gas appears to be flowing through the tube.]

Blondie: OK, so what do we do now?

Hog: Well, we have to divert that Oklahoma natural gas so that it'll power the modem that the others can use to reach the outside world.  Now....how to do that.....

[Hog finds a nearby computer console, sits down, and presses a few buttons on it.]

Hog: My years at Oklahoma Natural Gas gave me the experience necessary to diagnose a reactor such as this one.  We'll see if we can......

Blondie: What?  What is it?

Hog: This isn't going to work.

Blondie: Why not?

Hog: Corrosion.  No maintenance on this in ages.  There are actually holes within the core that corkscrew through it.  If we want to divert power, we'll need some thin flexible material that can patch those holes up.  But I don't see anything around here that would work.

So we're hosed.

[Hog slumps down in his chair, defeated.]

Blondie: So that's it?  We're done?  Nothing we can do, so we simply sit here and die?

Hog: I just.....I'm sorry Blondie.  But I can't think of any way out of this.

Winfield's bunker, large storage bay control room interior

[Dave continues to direct the moderators as they program a message into the Atlas.  Meanwhile, in another corner of the room, Winfield is looking at diagnostic readings on the bunker, while Seamus watches him like a hawk, to make sure there isn't any funny business.]

Winfield: My dear canine friend.

In your view, how would the assembled here react to some bad news from the most recently intercepted orders by the Pentagon to their fleet of nuclear-armed aircraft?

Seamus: What's the message?

Winfield: The bombers have taken off, and will be in strike range in little more than 20 minutes.  :(

Please discuss.


TO BE CONTINUED….

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 37 (2x17) "....Because God Does Not Make Mistakes"

Winfield's bunker, reactor core

[Hog and Blondie are slumped against the wall, reminiscing in what they think are their final moments on Earth.]

Blondie: Well, I guess we can at least say that we had an eventful last couple of days to our lives.  I mean, I'm just a puppy, so I haven't lived very long to begin with, but this has been a crazy few days.  Too bad it's all about to end.

[Hog isn't paying much attention as he's holding his head.]

Blondie: What is it?

Hog: I've got a category 8 headache.  To be honest, I've had it pretty bad for most of the last couple of days.  But I've been too disracted with everything else going on to worry about it.  Now I have nothing left to do except worry about it.

[Hog looks up.  He spots some food on the kitchenette across the room.....including a box of spaghetti.]

Hog: Hmmm.....spaghetti...never really had the chance to cook it as a hobo, but it was my "specialty" when I was younger.  Maybe we should cook it, as our last meal.  I mean--

Blondie: Yes?

Hog: That's it! 

[And we flash back to:]


Hog: Spaghetti would be perfect to plug the holes in the reactor core!  If we hurry, we may still be able to save everyone.  All we need to do is cook the spaghetti.

Come on.  I'll need your help in order to make this.

Blondie: You need my help for spaghetti?  You just said it was your specialty.  All you have to do is boil the noodles in water!

Hog: I know, but that's a lot of steps to remember.  I can only make it with some assistance.

[We now get a montage of Blondie and Hog making spaghetti.  The montage screeches to a halt when Hog interrupts:]

Hog: Then again, maybe this isn't a good idea.  I don't know if I should be allowed in the kitchen.  I was thinking we might order pizza instead.

Blondie: Don't be absurd.

Winfield's bunker, large storage bay control room interior

Dave: OK, that's the last of the coding we need, to send our message to President Naso.  Does it all compile correctly, User Number 1663?

thanks,
Dave

Inks: Yes.  Everything checks out.

Dave: And our internet connection?

thanks,
Dave

Joe Republic: Nothing.  Bushie failed us....just as expected.

Inks: So.....I guess he'll die a screw-up, just like he lived.

Joe Republic: Except he's taking all of us down with him.

Winfield's bunker, reactor core

[The spaghetti is done, and Hog puts oven mitts on both hands.  He takes the pot, empties out the water, and then faces the door to the reactor core.  He pauses there for a moment.  Then, without looking down at Blondie, he says...]

Hog: J.J....

Blondie: Please, my name's Blondie.  You're sounding more like your old self by the minute.

Hog: Back when I nearly drowned in that tunnel, I had a vision of my father.  He told me about how I've always been selfish.  Never really doing anything for other people if it meant that I had to make a sacrifice for myself.

Blondie: OK.  Do we really have time for this?  We have to plug the reactor core as soon as possible.

[Hog swallows hard.]

Hog: In order to plug those holes, we're going to have to go into that reactor chamber itself and do it manually.  That means being exposed to Oklahoma natural gas....which will probably kill us.

Blondie: (pause) Oh.

[Hog kneels down to Blondie's level, and sets the pot of spaghetti on the ground.  He then puts his hand (still with oven mitts on) up to Blondie's temple.]

Hog: Remember.

Blondie: What does that mean?  Remember what?

Hog: I don't know.  I saw it in a movie once.

[Hog then stands back up, again picking the pot of spaghetti up.]

Hog: Three other things I should tell you.

First, whatever happens, I want you to know that I love you.

Blondie: Ooookaaaay.

Hog: Second, my headache's gone.

And third, there's no reason why we *both* have to die.

[With that, Hog kicks Blondie hard, clear across to the other end of the room.  Before Blondie has a chance to react, Hog has entered the reactor chamber, releasing the seal, to allow him to manually plug the holes in the core with the spaghetti.  Blondie gets his wits about him, and makes a move towards the reactor chamber, but Hog has sealed himself in.  Oklahoma natural gas is pouring across Hog's face, but he continues to work, oblivious to the danger.  It's a lot like this scene of Spock in the Enterprise's engine room, attempting to restore warp power:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fHAOWLhrxhQ

Blondie can only look on in terror and admiration, as Hog plugs the holes in the reactor core with the spaghetti, then makes the vital rerouting of power to the modem that allows communication with the outside world.

And just as he completes his rerouting, he stumbles to the ground, unconscious.]

Winfield's bunker, large storage bay control room interior

[Dave and all the moderators are seemingly resigned to their fate.  Most of them pace around the room, or recount their favorite memories from their presumably-soon-to-be-over lives.  A few try to recreate poses from the Post a Picture of Yourself thread, for posterity.

Dave still lies on the ground, severely weakened by his earlier granting of moderation powers to Hog.  But he remains perfectly lucid.  Inks monitors a single computer screen, hoping for some signal that Hog and Blondie have restored power to the modem.

And then.....]

Inks: Dave!  The modem appears to be fully functional now.  He have contact with the outside.

Dave: User Number 1387's done it.  Now, quickly, upload the new copy of the Atlas immediately, and alert the White House.

thanks,
Dave

[Inks types a few keys on his keyboard.  He had everything ready to go, so this is done in seconds.]

Inks: Done!

[Dave then opens his eyes wide, and yells out:]

Dave: It is finished!

thanks,
Dave

[He then closes his eyes, and his breathing becomes erratic.  The other mods rush over to him, to see if he's OK.]