The Great Pun Riot of '06

Je_Saist made the comment “anybody else want to know more about the great pun riot of ‘06” in my New Salvage Descriptions thread…. Any hate mail should be directed appropriately.

Now on with our story…

The last of the Clockwork rattled to a stop, their internal mechanisms giving one last creaking sigh before they ceased function, allowing the automatons to fall to the pavement with a clatter. They still glowed a faint green from the effects of Positron’s final radiation blast.

Synapse leaned against the building, an agitated look on his face. He grinned suddenly and ducked down to pick up a small piece of brass that had fallen free of one of the minions. He searched quickly and found one of the smallest of the Clockwork foes. Jamming the piece into the small skeletal body he held it out for his partner’s viewing. “Hey, Posi! Lookit this! You always told me I should get my brass in gear!”

When the more serious hero gave him little more than a distracted snort, Synapse tossed the Gear away and looked around dispiritedly. “Heck, that was hardly worth the effort of pulling on the spandex.”

“Well,” Positron said as he examined one of the fallen foes carefully, looking for any sense whatsoever to the mechanisms that drove it. “We appreciate that you took the time. Although, you showing up naked likely would have distracted the enemy if nothing else.”

“Heh,” Synapse snickered. “So, you’re saying that me in the buff would be a good debuff?”

Positron laughed. He didn’t mean to; it had just been startled out of him. Behind the mask of his power suit he closed his eyes and mouthed an obscenity, praying with all his might that Synapse hadn’t heard him.

No such luck.

“Me in the raw would be a good draw?” He began to warm to his subject, his words coming faster and faster as his super speed and overactive imagination kicked in. “I guess we’d know what the ‘P’ in PBAoE would stand for… and if we were fighting Carnival of Shadows it would be standing all right. I wonder if my electrical powers would be stronger if I were naked… especially my Ball Lightning attack! I bet my Aim power would work better too… because for a sighting post I could use my…”

“Okay, Synapse… that’s enough already…” Positron tried to cut his friend off, but he knew it was already too late. Synapse, in the latter part of his tirade, had been pacing back and forth at super speed, fast enough to blur.

“Oh, wait! I got an idea!” Synapse’s laughter lingered after the speedster himself was long gone.

Moments later he was in Atlas Park standing under the center’s namesake statue. On the way there he had stopped by his apartment for a boombox and one of his home-made music CDs. He popped the disc in the player, the word “Classics” written in marker on its silvery surface. He cranked the music up and soon enough the raw sounds of AC/DC blasted into the air.

The crowd of new heroes and older veterans all turned to look at the well-known hero’s antics. The more experienced of them smiled knowingly, well used to Synapses’ quirks.

Synapse began to sing enthusiastically with the music.

“I’ve got big balls.
I’ve got big balls,
And they’re such big balls,
Dirty big balls.
And he’s got big balls
And she’s got big balls…
But ATLAS has the biggest balls of them all!”

Some of them, unfamiliar with the song or the hero singing it, stared in stunned confusion. The more serious minded sniffed in disdain and turned away. A small knot of heroes however, mostly newbs, laughed uproariously and began to sing along. Soon dozens of heroes joined in and an unholy chorus rose raucously into the air. And every time the final line “Atlas has the biggest balls of them all” was sung, everyone raised their hand to point at the globe the statue held aloft.

They sang on without their leader, however, because Synapse had already thought of something else.

A group of heroes were fighting Tsoo on the coast of Talos Island when a red, white and blue blur erupted into Synapse’s form among them. Synapse had grabbed a very large, very flamboyant cowboy hat from somewhere along the way. He swung his knees wide in a stance that made one think of a cowboy about three days too long in the saddle and moseyed past the surprised group. He pointed out yonder towards the distant statue.

“Now, that right there is one big cow,” he said as he gazed at the Minotaur monument. His accent had more Texas twang than a rack of BBQ ribs. “I heared tell that fella wouldn’t STEER ya wrong. But I gotta think that’s a big load of BULL. I bet he’d just HORN in on a crime scene and then MILK the publicity for all it was worth. How DAIRY try to take all the credit like that? Why someone like that should be mino-TAURED and feathered!”

They had long since stopped fighting. Now they all simply stared, heroes and gang members alike. No one laughed. No one even smiled. They just stared.

Finally, one of the Tsoo sorcerers looked away from Synapse towards the statue, then slowly back again. “I don’t know about all that,” he said hesitantly. “But that’s a LOT of beef fried rice.”

One of the heroes, a blaster who had been seconds away from loosing a fireball at the sorcerer’s head as a matter of fact, let out a snort. Then began to chuckle. “Oh man,” he said as his smile grew. “That was bad. That was UDDERLY awful.”

The entire group began to groan then, Heroes and Tsoo alike, as each started to offer their own jokes. Synapse, however, had already become distracted and raced onwards.

Later, when the majority of the rioting had settled down, the news crews of Paragon City began to interview some of the people more intimately involved with the events. One of the interviewees was a War Wolf by the name of Archon Grizzbane. He had a very hangdog expression as he described his part in the unfolding drama.

“Well, I was on patrol, you see…” he said in a deep voice that nonetheless had a plaintive whining quality to it. “Me and some of the regular troops under my command. Anyway, we were maintaining the perimeter when all of a sudden Synapse runs up to me. He looks real mad and I’m ready order my guys into battle, seein’ as how he’s a hero and all. But then he grabs one o’ my subordinates and points at me an’ he screams ‘don’t you know there are LEASH LAWS in this city?’…”

Grizzbane pauses to take a sip of water while the interviewer nods sympathetically.

“The men started laughin’. I was about to set ‘em straight about it, but then Synapse starts in again. He calls me Archon Fluffy an’ says how I ain’t worth Shih Tzu. An’ tellin’ my men that they oughta Hound me to work harder and shape up. He said that it had rained cats and dogs last night and that I had wet feet so I musta stepped in a Poodle. And if I trained real hard one day I might hit my Pekingese. Then he said he spotted crumbs in my fur and said if I was gonna Wolf my Chow Chow like that I’d better just take a Greyhound to get some Pointers from someone who could Whippet me into shape.”

“I see,” the interviewer said in a soothing voice. “And how did your men respond to this?”

“Well, they laughed at first… but then… well then they started makin’ their own jokes too!”

“And how did that make you feel?”

The huge war wolf, turned towards the camera. His mouth opened to reveal the wickedly curved fangs that, along with his massive frame, made him so formidable. “Well, it kinda hurt my feelings.”

Synapse traveled from location to location in a blinding whirlwind of fast feet and even faster jokes. The puns flew fast and furious and while most people were repelled and, in some cases, left physically ill, there are always SOME in every group that find such things humorous. It was these silly sycophants who took the situation from merely unpalatable to nearly catastrophic. The amateur punsters spread out from each of Synapse’s initial infestation points like bad religion, preaching to the upstanding disbelievers and rendering them into unwashed heathens.

Things began to get out of hand rapidly. Sister Psyche was pelted with every nun-pun in the book. After the third person told her that making her clothes could be “habit-forming” she started knocking the offenders unconscious with her psychic abilities. Only a truly heroic effort kept her from wiping their minds clean completely.

A group of jester-wanna-bes accosted Swan with suggestions that, regarding her feathers, once you go “down” nothing else will do. There were many offers to flip her the Bird, constant warnings to Duck and cover, and one brave soul even attempted to Goose her and they ALL took a Gander. They all thought she was getting in the spirit when she yelled it was time for their “Swan Song” but very few appreciated the punch line. Several were hospitalized by it, as a matter of fact.

Several of the gangs tried to get involved in the festivities, which only compounded the problem. The Tsoo were the unfortunate targets of many a horrible personal attack. A Boy Named Tsoo, Old Tsoo-Zanna, It Takes Tsoo to Tango and “Look out! It’s Tsoo-per Man!” to name but a tsoo… er… a few. They got very surly about the whole thing and began to attack people on sight rather than wait for the jokesters to make the first move. When every last person they assaulted began saying they were gonna “Tsoo the pants of you Tsoo!” the gang members gave up en masse and just went home.

The Hellions got the fire puns. The Skulls earned themselves bone jokes of a rather adult nature. The Carnival of Shadows received more circus puns than any one person should hear in a lifetime.

The Trolls, not being too bright, were not very good at coming up with responses and got progressively angrier and angrier at the jokes being directed at them. The worst were the ones they couldn’t understand like “At least you Trolls are good for the environment, being Green and all.” Finally, they responded with the only pun they understood, one rife with violence. They were stopped just outside Boomtown with approximately five hundred cases of explosives.

The riot was perhaps the most good-natured and non-violent one in human history. No one was destroying public property, except maybe a few brain cells. The only groaning in pain was more emotional and intellectual than physical. The police were instructed to restore order, but considering most of their detectives were bad puns of popular television and movie cops they more often contributed to the problem rather than resolved it.

People learned to avoid Spanky's Boardwalk almost immediately.

Synapse, however, had bigger targets in mind. As the streets were overrun with perilous pun-ishment, the speedster had gathered a small group of his more enthusiastic adherents and left Paragon City entirely. When next they appeared it was in the Rogue Isles. Not only the Rogue Isles, but Grandville itself! The crown jewel of Lord Recluse.

One of the heroes, a technomancer of no small amount of skill, managed to hack into the city’s broadcast system. The constantly repeating message and video of Lord Recluse’s “motivational” speech ended in a blast of static that eventually gave way to an image of Synapse and his back-up dancers. As the entire population turned to stare at the nearest video screen, an old early ‘90s song began to soar eerily into the silence. As it began to play, Synapse and his cronies started to dance, changing the lyrics as they went.

(to the tune of Madonna’s “Vogue”)
Strike a pose…
Strike a pose…
Rogue, rogue, rogue
Rogue, rogue, rogue

Look around, everywhere you turn are bad guys
They’re everywhere that you go! (look around)
You try everything you can to deny
The Chosen One thing really blows (it really blows)

When all else fails and you long to be
Something different than you are today
I know a place where you can start again
It’s called Praetoria… and here’s what it’s for, so…

Going Rogue…
C’mon Sith Lord move to the Light Side (move to the Light Side)
Going Rogue…
Tell Spider-Boy to go blow!
You know you can do it!

All you need is your own paid expansion
So buy it that’s what it’s for! (that’s what it’s for)
Turn around, give up your ill-gotten mansion
And give your cash to the poor! (cash to the poor)

It makes no difference if your Brute or a ‘Mind
If you’re a Stalker or Corr’…
Yeah, you’ll be side jumping and soon you will find
A heroic star, yes, that’s what you are…

Going Rogue…
C’mon Bad Guys don’t be so tragic! (don’t be so tragic)
Going Rogue…
Chosen One hit the road!
You know you can do it!

Rogue… Freedom’s where you find it (move to the light side)
Rogue… Good is right behind it (go with the flow)

Positronic all aglow
Statesman in a picture show
There goes Brawler lookin’ keen
On the cover of a magazine

Manticore and Sister Psyche
The couple we all love to like
Luminary, Swan so fair
Mirror Spirit, queen of air

They had style, they had guts
Saw some villains, kicked their butts
Hellions, Clockwork and some Tsoo
Don’t berate us… we love to!

Ladies with an attitude
Fellows that were feelin’ rude
Don’t just stand there, let’s get to it
Switch your side, there’s nothin’ to it…

ROGUE!

They stood there panting when the dance and song number ended. Synapse, by now used to people laughing and egging him onwards, grinned as he waited for the wave of applause and laughter to sweep over him. The grin slowly faded into a puzzled frown. He looked at the crowd directly in front of him for even the faintest hint of a giggle.

Nothing.

In fact, they didn’t even appear to be looking at HIM. All their eyes instead seemed to focus past him. Synapse turned slowly around and blinked owlishly at what he saw.

Lord Recluse stood not six feet from him. Arrayed behind him were his lieutenants; Captain Mako, Black Scorpion, Scirocco and Ghost Widow. None of them were laughing either.

“Uh, hey guys,” Synapse said in a voice that stammered only slightly. “Long time no see! So, you came out for the performance, huh? I had to come here, guys, I mean… who else in the world needs a good laugh more than you guys? Errr… Mako! Mako my main man! Slip me some fin! No? Oh, come on, do it just for the Halibut. The Halibut… hell of it… oh come, on… give me a Hook… I’m Floundering here. Scirocco! Now you’re a Breath of Fresh Air if ever I needed one… and boy do I need one! I’m sorry I just Breezed in and broke up your doom party here but I was on a roll back in Paragon!”

They began to advance on him… slowly.

“Widow! The most beautiful villainous around! I know I don’t have a Ghost of a chance with you but surely you, of all people, can understand the Spirit of my intent! You wouldn’t hurt Widow ol’ me would you? A piece of advice for you Widow… Don’t ever date Lord Recluse… I heard he has Crabs… You know, Crab Soldiers… ha… ha. Black Scorpion! How about we… how about…”

He trailed off.

“Ah hell…”

Several days later, after all the damage had been cleaned up and the worst offenders had been fitted with muzzles, a lone hero made his way to the Rikti War Zone. He leaned against a bullet pitted stone wall, idly watching a group of Rikti warriors lead a charge against heavily fortified Vanguard troops. When he heard the sound of gravel shifting loosely under a boot, he turned his half-helmeted head to gaze at his old acquaintance.

Recluse regarded Statesman for a long, silent moment. Neither spoke and though they appeared relaxed, it was the illusion of a weaving cobra ready to strike at any moment. Finally, Recluse made a curt gesture with one hand and four black-clad Arachnos soldiers carried a large packing crate, approximately four cubic feet, to just between the two Incarnates. At another gesture from their Master they dropped it… none too gently.

“I believe this belongs to you,” Recluse said in a voice better suited to emerging from a freshly opened crypt.

Statesman wedged his fingers under the lid and lifted, snapping the lock into shards. He glanced down into the container to see the bruised and battered form of Synapse. The purple, swollen expanse of his face twisted into a parody of his usual irrepressible grin.

“Hey,” Synapse whispered raggedly. “I wo… would like to issue… to issue a press Statesmen-t. And si… since Spider Boy is here I bet we could ev… even get it on the world wide Web.”

Statesman closed the lid.

“Nope, never seen it before in my life,” he said deadpan.

“Well, it’s not mine,” Lord Recluse replied. “And I don’t feel right in taking something that doesn’t belong to me. That would be stealing… and that’s bad.”

“Probably best if we just leave it here,” Statesman agreed. “Whoever lost it will come looking for it. Who knows? Maybe the Rikti could do with a laugh.”

“Buy you a beer?” Lord Recluse asked as they walked off together.

“Sure, why not?”

From inside the box came the plaintive voice of Synapse.

“Guys? Jokes over, guys, you can let me out now… States? I know you’re out there! Come on, guys, this isn’t funny! This is serious, I think I’ve ruptured my spleen in here! Guys? Oh come on, can’t you take a joke?!”

---

My mind wanders so often you've probably seen its picture on milk cartons. - Me... the first person version of the third person Steelclaw

*tries to shake her fist in righteous anger while rolling on the floor in gales of laughter*

-Rachel-

---

...

My sides are gonna hurt for a few days now aren't they?

OW!!

---

Can't...breathe.... sides...pain... must stop.. laughing.... ow

---

"Well, there's going to be some light music and a short note of apology saying, 'The universe ended last week, we're really sorry, we don't know what you're doing here, didn't you get the message?'"- Steve Moffat

Steel, why are you not writing more often? This stuff is fantastic. I was trying to think of a few puns to put in here, but I can't even begin to compete

---

Methinks he's o-puned the floodgates.....

---

Steel, if you can find someone to sing that, I will not only film the dance scene, I will put it on the monitors in Grandville.

Michelle
aka
Samuraiko/Dark_Respite

---

---

... part of me is sorry I opened this can of worms.

The other part of me is laughing too hard to care.

---

Steelclaw: The Voice of the Masses.

---

---

Nice one.

The end in the RWZ seemed a bit off though. Back in '06, it was still the Rikti Crash Site. Vanguard hadn't established themselves there and it wasn't co-op.

---

---

My Deviant Art page link-link

CoH/V Fan Videos

Can anyone see this as being one of the humour episode for a City of Heroes: The animated series?

You know, the same kind of vibe as the Teen Titans cartoon but focuses on the Freedom Phalanx.

---

---

My mind wanders so often you've probably seen its picture on milk cartons. - Me... the first person version of the third person Steelclaw