“What?!” Leos exclaimed, spluttering perfectly good beer all over the bar.
Sally sat nervously beside him.
“Well, I mean, we get along great Leos,” she said. “You know…I just think we are ready to take this to the next level.”
“What are you saying?” Leos asked in trepidation.
“I mean…” Sally started. “I mean…why don’t we become boyfriend and girlfriend?”
Leos groaned.
“Oh no…oh no! You didn’t just go there!”
Sally looked perplexed.
“Leos! I don’t want to be fuck buddies anymore! I want a proper relationship!”
Leos wanted to vomit, and not just because of the profuse amount of beer he had drank.
“Oh no! I know how this works. One minute, we are in a relationship, the next we are living in a three bedroomed house with a little brat kid and another on the way! I won’t be fooled by you woman!”
Sally stood angrily, tears forming in her eyes.
“I am tired of this! You aren’t ready to commit to anything! It's over!”
Leos laughed bitterly.
“How can it be over? It never even started!”
Sally slapped him across the face and stormed out. Leos shrugged. He was too numb from alcohol to care.
“Another beer,” he said nonchalantly to the barman.
“Bar’s closed,” the barman replied bluntly.
“Are you still behind the bar?”
“Yes.”
“And is the beer still coming out of the taps?”
“…yes.”
“Then I will have another beer!” Leos said triumphantly.
“Bar’s closed,” the barman repeated sternly.
“Well fuck you then!” Leos yelled, downing his pint. “I shall take this party elsewhere!”
He grabbed his coat and walked towards the exit, glancing at the clock as he did. It was 3.30 in the morning. The night was still so young!
He walked out into the electrifying air of Lansdowne Street. He needed to find another place to drink. The party was just getting started! He spotted several bars farther down the road and began walking.
“Fucking leaves me," he muttered. "For wanting more than casual sex? The cheek of it!”
Leos stumbled past a dark alleyway and saw a homeless guy sleeping by a trash can.
“Hey! You! Homeless man!”
The man looked up groggily.
“Why are women such heartless bitches?!”
He looked at Leos, confused, and just shrugged his shoulders. Leos shook his head and moved on. A sign caught his fancy. A big neon sign in the shape of a cocktail glass. Above it were the words ‘Wine Bar’.
“Ooh, a wine bar!” Leos said mockingly. “Let’s go get smashed with all the posh people at the wine bar!”
He spotted the opening hours below. Amazingly, it was open until 6am. Leos grinned. Fancy it may be, but it was one of the few places still open. He headed over and barged through the fancy doors into a fancy place with fancy people wearing fancy things, whilst drinking fancier looking drinks.
It was not your usual pub atmosphere in here. Light jazz music was playing in the background, and people were having conversations with each other, instead of salivating on each other. Weird.
Leos headed straight for the bar, receiving several confused glances. He passed a group of nerdy looking kids about his own age, all sat drinking water and talking in hushed and serious tones. ‘Losers,’ Leos thought, as he passed them by, smiling to himself. He stomped his hand on the bar.
“Service!”
A posh looking barmaid arrived.
“What are you having?”
“Wanna make out?” Leos asked, before letting out a huge belch.
“…” she replied.
Leos shrugged.
“Oh! Am I too good for you, eh? Well forget it. This is a wine bar. What do you think I want?!”
“We don’t only sell wine,” the barmaid said. “And there are many types to choose from!”
“You are so boring,” Leos said, yawning. “Just give me your cheapest before I pass out from boredom.”
The barmaid glared before turning away to fix his drink.
“Leos?” a strange voice came from behind.
Leos turned around. It was one of the nerdy looking kids. He was lanky and ginger.
“Who the hell are you?” Leos asked.
“Why…my Leos, it really is you! Did you get the message on AIM? Are you here for the meetup?”
“Look, I don’t want to sound rude, but I will anyway…I don’t know you. I don’t associate with your…sort.”
The kid was taken aback.
“But…Leos, it is me! Curtis!”
Leos sighed.
“I don’t know you!”
“You do!” one of the other nerds said, appearing beside Curtis. He looked like a smaller version of him.
“It’s me Leos! Shawn!”
“What about me?” a girl asked, appearing at the other side of Curtis. "Don't you recognize me?"
Leos perked up when he saw her.
“I would never forget a face like that!”
The girl sighed.
“Leos, it is me, Rose!”
“Nice name! I am Leos!”
“Yes, we know!” they all said in unison.
“We post on Further Entertainment together," Curtis said impatiently. "You are a member there, remember?”
A sudden realisation dawned on Leos. Crap…he couldn’t be seen with this people. Online friends? What would people think of him?
“I gotta go!” he yelled, standing and pushing past them hastily.
“Where are you going?” Curtis called after him.
“I am late for an appointment, sorry!”
“At 3.30am?” Rose asked, perplexed.
“Hey!” the barmaid called. “Your drink is ready!”
Leos stopped in his tracks. He looked back at the bar. There in all its glory was a glistening glass of sweet red wine. He would be leaving it behind if he left now. But staying meant talking to his online friends…he looked to the door, and then back at the bar, where Curtis, Shawn and Rose waited.
“Damn you, alcohol gods!” Leos screamed at the sky.
He walked back to the bar, resigned.
The sun was casting its first tired rays into the dusky office. Theresa lay huddled in a cold corner. She had lost track of how long she had been there, sobbing and crying.
…
Held captive by terrorists…this wasn’t in her job description.
Tony was mere feet away, his dead gaze fixed on her. His eyes were like black holes. At the mere pull of a trigger, the man she had worked with for two years had been snuffed out. Just like that.
Theresa had been clinging to the cross around her neck throughout the night, saying silent prayers, asking for rescue. Nobody had answered them so far.
Her faith had never been tested, but now she found herself questioning everything she believed in. Would god truly put her in this position? She had strived to live her life in line with her faith, yet now she was staring death in the face, at the hands of Muslim extremists. What had she done to anger god?
Neil was to her side, sleeping. She didn’t know how he had managed to get any shut eye, given the circumstances, but there he was, dreaming peacefully. She envied him. Paul was staring into space, his eyes bloodshot and weary. It was impossible to say what he was thinking.
Their captors had calmed down since the chaos of the previous night. Two of them sat in swivel chairs, guns fixed on their three captors. The one who had killed Tony was out of sight. He had been dismissed from guard duties after a stern talk with their leader, Abu. Abu himself was sat at a computer, dosing. He looked so old and peaceful, totally incapable of the terror he had inspired the night before. But Theresa knew better. He was an evil man.
As daylight slowly spilt into the office, there was a sharp knocking sound from the floor below. Someone was at the door!
The two guards watching them stood to their feet anxiously and exchanged confused glances. Abu stirred from his sleep and awoke as another knock came at the door. The terrorist who killed Tony suddenly appeared, talking urgently. He was speaking Arabic, but Theresa understood every word. Never did she imagine that her study of languages at University would be applied in such a way.
“Who is that?” the terrorist who killed Tony hissed, pulling out his gun. Abu was by now awake and aware of what was going on. Paulus was paying close attention. Neil was wide awake.
“Stay calm,” Abu said to his men, heading over to the window.
There came another knock at the door, followed by stern voices.
“This is the police! Open up!”
Theresa’s heart fluttered. Rescue had come! She gave Paul a hopeful glance. He looked hopeful but nervous. Neil was wide awake and paying close attention.
Abu stepped back from the window and shot an angry look at the terrorist who killed Tony.
“Nijad. That commotion last night must have brought them here. Go deal with them now!”
“At once!” Nijad replied, cocking his pistol and heading for the stairs.
“No!” Abu hissed. “Do you want to bring more of them here? Talk to them! I would do it myself but they might recognize me!”
Nijad hesitated, looking disappointed.
“Your gun is a last resort…do you hear me?”
Nijad nodded and headed down the stairs. Abu turned and looked at Theresa, Paul and Neil.
“Not a word,” he said, nodding to the terrorists with the guns.
Theresa listened as the door on the floor below creaked open.
“What can do for officers?” came Nijad’s voice, in broken English.
“We received a call about a disturbance in the early hours of the morning.” replied a man’s voice. “One of the neighbours rang reporting shouting and a loud bang.”
Theresa wanted to scream. She wanted to scream out as loud as she could. But one glance at the guns trained on her persuaded her not to. Why had it taken the police so long to get here? The call must have been made hours and hours ago.
“No noise here." Nijad said. "I cleaner. I only person here.”
“Ok. Well we just had to make sure.” Another man’s voice came. “Thank you.”
Without warning, Paulus rose to his feet abruptly.
“Help us!” he cried out in a booming voice.
There was a horrible silence which seemed to last an eternity. One of the terrorists hit Paul with the butt of their gun, knocking him to the ground.
“Stay quiet!” Abu yelled.
“Or what?” Paul spat. “You need us alive!”
“What was that?” Theresa heard the first police officer say.
“What was what?” Nijad asked innocently.
“I am afraid we are going to have to insist on entering the premises!” the second officer said.
Paulus yelled out again. Neil joined him. Abu got increasingly angry. But Paul was right. They were the only leverage the terrorists had. They couldn't risk hurting them.
“Help!” Theresa screamed, joining in.
Then all hell broke loose. Several frantic gunshots rang out on the floor below.
“Shit!” an officer screamed. “He has a gun! Call for backup!”
Abu knelt down and put his surprisingly strong arms around Theresa, covering her mouth.
“Keep quiet bitch!”
He dragged her to her feet. Theresa kicked and struggled against his grasp, to no effect. He dragged her towards the stairs.
“Get the other two!” Abu yelled. “We have to leave!”
As they were dragged downstairs Theresa got a glimpse of the carnage unfolding below.
Nijad was firing shot after shot at the two terrified policemen, who were taking cover behind the doors of their car, armed only with night sticks. One of the terrorists pushed past her and Abu, holding an assault rifle. He tapped Nijad on the shoulder and handed it over. Nijad grinned and took aim.
“Die infidels!” he screamed.
A tremendous thunder of bullets was fired straight towards the police car. Bullet holes erupted all over it. The officer’s flimsy cover was ripped to shreds, and them with it. Blood sprayed everywhere.
“Into the car!” Abu yelled, dragging Theresa out into the street.
She, Neil and Paul were thrown into the back seat of the police car. Abu and Nijad got in the front. Theresa looked around and saw the other two getting into the boot, guns at the ready.
Najid ripped the radio out and started the engine. He began driving furiously. Abu turned around to face them.
“This will not go unpunished.” He said.
Paul was glaring at him.
Theresa felt her eyes welling up with tears again. They had come so close to getting away. Now they were in even more trouble than before.
Vernon awoke from a lovely dream about 12 packaged hot dogs, to a loud dissonant yelp. He dragged his eyes open, his head pounding. He looked to the window, his bloodshot eyes surprised to see the California sun just beginning to rise. It was way too early for him to be awake. He groaned and looked to his side. She wasn’t in bed. Where was she?
There came another screeching yelp from downstairs. Vernon sat up and sighed, looking at his watch on the bedside table. It was 06.00am. He got out of bed, pulled on some clothes, and opened the bedroom door, every bone in his body aching. He needed caffeine. In the form of Red Bull preferably. As he stepped out into the upstairs hallway he heard the screaming again. He heard a dogs muffled bark replying.
“Jenna, what are you doing?” Vernon called down.
Jenna appeared at the foot of the stars, mischief in her eyes.
“Oh my god Vernon, I am recording my latest youtube video! Kermit and Sansa are getting intimate with each other, if you know what I mean! I am going to film it and overdub it with ‘Let’s Get It On’ by Marvin Gaye.
There was a long pause. Vernon looked at her quizzically. Then finally, he spoke.
“That…is…AMAZING!”
Vernon rushed downstairs. Sure enough, in Jenna Marbles kitchen, her dog and his were getting intimate. Vernon saw the camera rolling, filming the adorable spectacle.
“You go girl!” Vernon yelled, clapping.
As the dogs continued to do it, Jenna stepped in front of the camera and began making silly faces. Cross eyed, demonic faces. It was GENIUS.
Finally, the dogs seemed to be finished, but Kermit was stuck inside Sansa. Jenna and Vernon bawled with laughter. Jenna zoomed in for a close up.
“This new video is going to make me!” Jenna said.
“I agree!” Vernon replied.
When the dogs got unstuck, Jenna picked up Kermit, still dazed in post coital bliss, and held him up to the camera.
“Aw, Kermit! Who’s a cheeky little player, lel?”
Jenna added some cross eyed stares into the camera for good measure. Vernon admired her attention to detail.
“Hey, can I appear on the video with you?” Vernon asked.
Jenna nodded and summoned him over. Vernon rushed before the camera and started grinning inanely.
“This is my boyfriend Vernon,” Jenna said, cocking her head to her side and making a silly face. Vernon quickly tried to mimic her, not wishing to be upstaged.
“Derp,” he said.
Jenna laughed hard at that. Once she pressed the record button off, she was in fits of giggles.
“Derp,” she repeated. “How did you think of that line. You are a natural! You could make videos like these yourself!”
“Maybe I will!”
Vernon was overwhelmed with pride. Praise from one of the best in the business. Elusive fame had reached its generous hand out to him at last! What an honour to appear in a video alongside a true auteur like Jenna.
Vernon looked down at Sansa, who had limped to his side. He picked her up and smiled at her.
“Unless Kermit used protection, you are going to be spawning a litter of baby Kermit’s soon!”
He and Jenna laughed hysterically. Then a thought struck Vernon. FE had to know about this. They simply had to. He rushed over to his laptop, and pulled it open. He logged on to FE and went straight to General Discussion. New topic.
…
“You do not have permission to post in this forum”
…
Vernon read the words back one more time. What the hell. Had Curtis banned him as a joke again? Vernon flicked back a page and saw that every topic was locked, save one. It was called ‘NDim 24/7 Support'. Strange. Vernon opened it. Inside it was a post from Paulus.
“What have you done to the forum this time Paul?” Vernon muttered.
He began reading the message. And when he had done that, he watched the video. Jenna came and peered over his shoulder when she heard the thick Middle Eastern accent of the terrorist who appeared to be holding NDim and FE hostage. She laughed when she saw him.
“He looks funny! Is he a YouTube star like me?”
Vernon hushed her.
“No, this is something else.”
It seemed that FE had been taken hostage by terrorists! Now Vernon wouldn’t be able to post about his epic adventure with Jenna Marbles. This was unacceptable! AIM flashed up on a new tab. He flicked over to it. He had been invited to a big group conversation, started by Curtis.
‘Hey everyone,’ it read. ‘If you haven’t seen already, a serious situation has developed at NDim, which threatens FE’s very existence. I invite you all to Boston IRL so we can discuss how to counter this threat.’
Vernon went wide eyed and thrust out his phone and started calling a travel agent. But to his surprise his phone rang with an unknown number. He answered tentatively.
“Hello?”
“Hey Vernon þetta er snjór menn haha!” a voice said in a strange accent.
“What?” Vernon replied flatly.
“Stop screwing with him,” Came another voice in a strange accent, though this time the words were intelligible.
“Sorry Vernon! I couldn’t resist!”
“Who is this?”
“What do you mean! It is Ari! Merc is with me too! We are going to meet today, remember? We just landed in LA!”
Vernon remembered suddenly.
“Oh my god! I forgot!”
He could hear them laughing.
“We should meet straight away,” Vernon said. “There is something you need to hear.”
Hupu was walking a quiet country road. It was about 8am, and he had been trekking throughout the night, ever since he had received the news about FE. He was going to the meeting in Boston. After leaving his house, he had walked what seemed for miles. He felt sure he must get there soon. But thus far there was nothing but open country in front of him.
Hupu was not usually one to go out of his way to help his friends on FE, but it was one of the few escapes he had, and to see it threatened by terrorists was unacceptable. He had to help his buddies however he could. Plus, it would be exciting to meet them in person for the first time.
He heard the spluttering of a struggling motor behind him. He turned to see an old pickup truck driving towards him. As it approached, Hupu held his hand out. It ground to a halt beside him, and the driver, a bedraggled man in dungarees, eyed him cautiously.
“Hello,” Hupu said. “I am…Hupu. I need directions!”
“Um, where are you going?” The man asked.
“Boston.”
The man just stared back at him. Finally, he pointed to over to his side.
“Why, Boston is about 400 miles in that direction.”
“Is that far?”
“Um…yes. Too far on foot.”
Hupu sighed.
“I don’t suppose you are going near Boston are you?”
“Only as far as the next village,” the driver said, laughing. “Will that do you?”
“Yes, thank you!” Hupu said. Hupu hopped into the passenger side of the pickup truck.
The driver revved up the engine and drove on.
“Why are you going all the way to Boston?”
Hupu thought carefully about his answer. The man could be a terrorist spy for all he knew.
“My online friends have been taken hostage by terrorists and I am going to try and save them.”
The man gave him a funny look.
“You’re a strange one…you taken any illicit substances recently?”
Hupu shook his head.
“No suh, I don’t believe in drugs.”
“Good, cause I won’t be having none of that in my truck.”
“Truly suh, no drugs.”
“Okay then.”
The drove in silence for another 10 minutes, when the driver slowed to a halt in a sleepy village, by a post office.
“Well, this is as far as I can take ya, good luck!”
Hupu got out.
“How much farther is it from here?”
“Erm…its still about 400 miles in that direction.”
Hupu didn’t understand. He was no closer!
He said his thanks anyway and walked away. As he did he bumped into a familiar face.
“Oh my god,” the kid yelled. “Patrick! Patrick, come quick!”
“What is it Matt?”
Who Hupu assumed to be Patrick appeared from behind Matt and peered over his shoulder. Hupu stared back at the two, trying to place them.
“Oh my god!” the one called Patrick yelled. “Hupu!”
“.” Hupu replied.
“It is Hupu!” Matt yelled.
Hupu wasn’t sure what to say, so he just smiled nervously at them both.
“How do you know me?”
“Damn it Hupu!" Patrick said. "We go on FE! And we are going to Boston. Are you coming?”
Paulus gazed out the window of the bulletridden police car, as it blazed down a seemingly endless narrow country road. There was nothing but rolling hills and sleeping farmland in all directions. The peaceful surroundings seemed far removed from the horrible predicament him, Theresa and Neil found themselves in. They had left the city some hours ago, their captors driving them as far away as possible from NDim headquarters and the bloody scene they had left behind. The entire drive had been spent in knife edge silence, save for the briefest exchanges between Abu and Najid. The other two terrorists sat in the boot, their guns at the ready. Paulus looked to his two remaining employees. Theresa was starting ahead vacantly, her eyes red and swollen from all her sobbing. Neil was sitting in silence, looking out the window. He hadn't spoken once since the police officers had been shot. Paulus was worried he was traumatized.
The drive had taken them many miles. Paulus figured they were somewhere in Wales. Paulus wasn't sure where the terrorists were headed. He wasn't sure they know knew either.
He got his answer when a small village appeared on the horizon. The head terrorist, Abu, pointed to it, and muttered an order to Nijad. Paulus felt the car start to slow. Abu poked his head out the side window and barked commands to the two terrorists sitting in the boot with their assault rifles. The car ground to a halt just before what looked like the village pub. Abu turned to face Paulus and the other two.
“Do not try anything,” he said sternly. The doors opened and with guns trained on them, he, Theresa and Neil were ordered to get out. They complied. As Paulus stepped out onto the old road, he could hear harmonious singing coming from the pub up ahead.
“This is definitely Wales” he thought to himself.
The tuneful song was interrupted by the sudden blaring of the police car. Nijad had switched the siren on and was unsheathing his rifle. Abu looked toward the pub expectantly. After a short while, confused villagers filed out of the pub, to face the scene.
“Aye, whet’s this then?” one of them asked.
“Silence infidel!” Abu boomed. He glanced at Nijad, who nodded and hoisted his gun above his head. He pulled the trigger, releasing a thunderous hail of bullets into the air. The other two terrorists joined in the hideous chorus. The villagers fell back in terror. When the firing stopped, Abu continued.
“You are now our hostages. Any attempt to escape will be met with deadly resistance." He turned to Nijad. "Go round the village, bring everybody to the pub."
Nijad nodded and went on his way. One of the villagers attempted to run. Before he had got even three paces, he was gunned down. The villagers screamed in terror. Nijad smiled and reloaded his rifle. Paulus boiled with rage.
"Do not be foolish!" Abu yelled. "If you comply with us, you will live!"
Paulus felt a forceful hand on his shoulder, as he, Theresa and Neil were escorted to the pub. They were thrust through the dark doorway into a very old looking place. Retro pint glasses littered the tables, and hundreds of dusty spirit bottles lined the shelves of the bar, their names indecipherable.
“What a vile place…” Abu said. "A festering ground for heretic ideas."
An old TV lay on the far wall. Paulus looked at it, before glancing away. His stomach lurched and he stopped in his tracks. He flashed his eyes back to the screen. He found himself looking at his own face.
Paulus head started spinning as he heard the news anchor speaking.
"Paul Reybould, going by the online alias Paulus, is the prime suspect in the ongoing investigation into the murder of two police officers in Birmingham early this morning. MI5, who believe he is a threat to national security, have issued a warning for anybody who sees him, to immediately call the police."
Theresa and Neil came to his side.
"This is all a terrible nightmare." Theresa whispered. "It has to be!"
Paulus didn't respond. He had no words. The report continued.
"Paulus has been dubbed the most dangerous man in England. His organisations motives remain unclear at this moment in time, but MI5 have seized the computers at NDim headquarters, and are in the midst of an investigation."
"It is suspected that these cyber terrorists are linked with Al Qaeda. This development correlates with eye witness reports at the shooting that several Arabs were present. The current location of all the assailants is unknown, however several people reported seeing a bullet ridden police car driving at high speed on the outskirts of Birmingham at roughly 10am this morning. We don't have anymore on this deeply disturbing story at this time, other than that a third body has been found at the scene, this time inside the NDim building, of what appears to be an employee. We hope to know more in the coming hours."
The screen flashed back to the BBC studio.
“Well, we will keep you updated with that story as it develops. Here's Tom with the weather.”
Paulus felt sick. It was bad enough that he was been held hostage by terrorists, but now the authorities believed he was colluding with them!
Paulus turned and saw Abu, smiling victoriously.
“This is good,” he said. “They don’t know where to find us.”
He then turned to the newly acquired villager hostages.
“Now, who is in charge here?”
The villagers exchanged terrified glances. Finally, one of them raised his hand. An overweight man with great white sideburns, and a burning look of rage on his face.
“Thaat would be mee.”
Abu crept over to him, and gazed down at him.
“I have a question for you…do...you...have…wifi?”
Curtis glanced down at his phone. It hadn’t stopped buzzing for the past half hour.
Jeffrey: Ohh men I am on a plane now, I’ll be there in a couple of hours.
Boc: I am in Boston right NOW. Where are you all?
Curtis: We are at the Hard Rock Cafe Boc. Meet us there!
Boc: K, on my way.
Jeff: Oh men, good choice!
Nofo: I am not fucking getting involved with this shit.
Curtis: Nofo, Paulus needs our help! These terrorists aren't going to be forgiving if we fail.
Nofo: Fuck that, this is too much.
Chris25: Typical faggot.
Nofo: Fuck you Chris you fucking homophobe.
Curtis: Guys stop. If you aren’t going to help, stay out of this convo.
KC: Omw but I am coming from the ass end of nowhere, its going to take me a while.
Zersch: Same
Mal: Same
Vernon: Me and the snowmen will be there asap!
Curtis wrote out a reply to them all, but when he pressed send, AIM crashed. He sighed and put his phone away. It would have to wait.
DR, Shawn and Leos were all sleeping at the table. They had spent the night trying to convince Leos to help them at the wine bar, which they finally managed to do just as the place happened to close and stop serving the drinks they had been buying him all night.
Curtis wanted nothing more than to rest, but he couldn’t. He needed to stay alert. He grabbed a passing waitresses attention and ordered a coffee. They would have to wait some time for everyone to arrive. Vernon and the snowmen would be coming all the way from LA. Meanwhile, time was ticking by. It was day two of the seven that the terrorists had given them to meet their demands, and thus far they hadn't a single concrete idea of how to do so.
As Curtis stewed over this, the door to the cafe open and in walked a familiar face. Boc. Curtis stood and smiled. Despite the circumstances, meeting all his FE pals in person for the first time was quite enthralling. If only it hadn’t taken a terrible crisis to bring them altogether.
“Carter!” Curtis said.
“Curtis!” Boc replied, heading over. The two of them shook hands firmly.
Rose woke up.
“Oh boy, hello Boc!” she said.
“Hey Rose!”
Shawn and Leos did not stir.
“This is really cool,” Curtis said. “And I wish more than anything we could just have a nice normal chat. But there is serious business to discuss.”
“Yes,” Boc said solemnly. “I still can’t believe what is happening.”
“We need to decide what we are going to do.”
“Before you got here we talked about going to the media,” Rose said. “They would be able to spread awareness of the story.”
“Except that could result in the terrorists executing the hostages,” Boc said.
“Exactly,” Curtis said.
“What else?” Boc asked.
“Er…that is as far as we got,” Curtis said. “We are stumped.”
“Oh...that sucks."
“We are in way over our heads,” Rose murmured. “The only options I can see are actually breaking these five terrorists out of Guantanamo Bay, or going to England and launching a rescue mission. And neither is viable!”
Curtis sighed. His coffee arrived. As he took a sip, Leos’ eyes shot open.
“Ughhh,” he groaned. “My head…need…alcohol.”
Suddenly he became aware of Curtis and the others. He froze.
“What the fuck?”
“Leos…do you remember last night?” Curtis asked.
The drunkard looked from Curtis to Rose to Carter.
“Oh fuck!” He shouted, standing abruptly and trying to run. Curtis, Rose and Boc blocked his way. Leos recoiled on seeing Boc.
“Oh god, there’s more of them!”
“Leos!” Curtis said sternly. “Leos, you agreed to help us!”
“Nonsense! I was drunk! You aren’t liable when you are drunk!”
“Snap out of it Leos!” Rose yelled, slapping him across the face. “Your friends need you.”
“You aren’t my friends. You are just online made up people. You aren’t supposed to be real!”
Leos tried to barge through them, but he was too weak. He collapsed back into the chair he had been sleeping in, and launched into some incoherent rambling.
“I’ll go get him another beer,” Curtis said. "It seems to calm him down." Boc and Rose nodded as he headed to the bar.
“A pint of beer, please,” he said to the bartender. He looked back at Leos, babbling away manically. “Actually, better make that two.”
As Curtis waited a sharp dressed man in shades walked up a few feet away from him. Curtis could feel him staring. He tried to ignore him. The bartender appeared with his drinks, and he went to grab them. But as he did the suit spoke.
“Sir,” he said sternly. Curtis turned. He was flashing a badge. In big serious letters were the letters FBI.
“You are under arrest for conspiracy to commit terrorism.”
Curtis didn’t register the words at first. In a flash he found himself pinned to the bar, handcuffs been snapped firmly on his wrists.
“You have the right to remain silent, anything you do say can be used against you in a court of law.”
“What the hell is this?” Curtis demanded, when he finally became aware of what was happening. He managed to get a glimpse back at the table. Leos, Boc, Rose and Shawn were been handcuffed too, by similar looking men.
"WHAT IS THIS?" Leos boomed. "I am just a silly drunkard, leave me alone! I am not with these assholes!"
As Curtis was dragged to his feet, a stern looking man came over, who Curtis could only describe as looking like Mike Ehrmantraut from Breaking Bad.
“Oh boy, you kids have screwed up big time!”
He even sounded like him.
“What are you talking about?” Boc asked.
The man held up an iphone.
“You think you can have AIM conversations about TERRORISM in the United States and not expect trouble?”
Curtis groaned.
“Wait, you don’t understand!”
“Save it for the interrogation room,” Ehrmantraut said. “Take them away!”
A striking satire of our political machinations and other shit - 5 stars, Telegraph
Undeniably one of the best seris on ever - 1 Star, New York Times
The end of this fantastic series. Be ready for your mind to be blown.
Cuntis
Curtis looked out the window of the helicopter. He had never flown on one before, so this was quite the experience. He watched the proud skyscrapers of Boston whiz by. The Mike Ehrmantraut lookalike and soundalike sat opposite him, watching sternly. Rose, Leos, Boc and Shawn were at the other side of the cabin. Leos had been drugged for refusing to keep quiet. The drunkard had been shooting his mouth off so much that even Curtis was relieved when they silenced him. He had no idea where they were been taken, and he hadn’t even bothered asking. Curtis figured these weren’t going to be the most responsive captors. There was silence in the cabin, the heavy whirring of the rotors the only thing to be heard. Eventually the silence was broken when Mike Ehrmantraut’s phone started ringing. He looked down at the caller, puzzled, and answered.
“Hello?” he said slowly.
He sat with his phone to his ear as he listened to the caller. As they spoke, his eyes lit up in surprise and confusion.
“Mr President!” Mike exclaimed.
Curtis exchanged a look with Boc, Rose and Shawn.
“Wut,” Boc said.
“Of course Mr President!” Mike said, still audibly surprised. “I will inform the pilot at once.”
Mike put his phone away and furrowed his brow.
“Well,” he started. “You are all about to meet the President of the United States.”
“Wow, really?” Rose asked.
“Yup,” Mike said. He then disappeared into the cockpit and started whispering instructions to the pilot.
“What would the President want with us?” Boc said, echoing everyone’s thoughts in the cabin.
“Maybe he is going to pardon us,” Shawn suggested.
“For what?” Curtis asked. “We haven’t done anything.
“Oh yeah.”
Curtis didn’t want to speculate. Whatever it was, it probably wasn’t going to be good…
Vernon
Vernon and Jenna sat waiting in the busy terminal of LAX.
“Hey Vernon,” a strange voice rang out behind him. He turned to face Ari and Merc.
“HEY!” Vernon exclaimed. “Oh my god this is so exciting!”
Ari and Merc smiled goofily.
“I know right!” the snowmen said in unison.
“This is Jenna Marbles,” Vernon said, introducing his trophy girlfriend.
“Hey,” Jenna said.
“Wow,” Ari said. “Nice to meet you. I think your videos suck but you are cool!”
Jenna was taken aback.
“Oh…thanks, I guess.”
The four of them stood there, in awkward silence. This was a big meeting for FE, Vernon knew. But none of them would be able to report back to their online pals.
“There is something we need to discuss,” Vernon said seriously.
“What is that?” Merc asked.
“Well Merc, something terrible has happened to FE…you see-“
Vernon stopped mid sentence. Something caught his eye in the distance. A grandeur had filled the air at LAX. The whiff of unbelieveable fame was heading his way. His eyes met a face in the busy terminal. An instantly recognizable face.
“OH.MY.GOD!”
“Wut?” Ari said nervously.
“MATTHEW MCCONAUGHEY!”
Vernon pushed Jenna Marbles aside, knocking her to the floor, and barged through Ari and Merc.
“Fuck, I think I broke my foot!” Jenna yelled. “Somebody film this NOW! IT IS COMEDY GOLD!”
“Vernon, where are you going?” Ari called after him. “Are you leaving us?”
Vernon ignored them. They didn’t matter anymore. Nobody mattered. Not FE, nobody. He was right there, a HUGE star. Vernon had to get up and close with him.
“MATTHEW!” He cried out as he got closer.
A stern man blocked his path. Vernon recognized the type instantly. Entourage. Ugh.
“Stay back sir, Matthew Mcconaughey is a very busy man.”
“It’s ok, I KNOW him!”
“Pff, yeah right. Move along sucker.”
Matthew met Vernon’s gaze, standing tantalizing close, but blocked by a wall of followers.
“It’s ok Daphne. Let him through.”
“Daphne?” Vernon scoffed, laughing. “What kind of shitty name is that for a man?”
Daphne flushed with anger and stepped out of his way. Vernon beamed at Matthew and approached him.
“Oh my god it’s you! In the flesh!”
Matthew gave Vernon a smile, one which said he had plenty experience with worshipping fans.
“What can I do for you? Do you want an autograph?”
“Yes, Vernon said. Yes…and so much more!”
Paulus
Paul sat in the shitty Welsh pub. His face was still on TV. The reporters were branding him the most dangerous terrorist who ever lived…in Birmingham.
“This is shit,” Paulus said to Abu. “What are you trying to achieve?”
Abu cackled manically.
“Oh, you will see in time, foolish infidel.”
Theresa stood up abruptly.
“Well I won’t stand for it!”
She protruded a shotgun out of god knows where, and let rip. A huge explosion rattled in Paulus’ ears as Theresa shot Abu in the chest, and quickly turned the gun on the other three captors. She finished them off with stunning proficiency. Paulus could only sit and watch in abject shock. The terrorists were all on the floor riddled with bullets before they knew what had hit them.
“What the fuck have you done?” Neil exclaimed.
Theresa threw the shotgun to the floor, shaking.
“I…I didn’t know I had it in me.”
Abu groaned.
Paulus stood slowly and walked over to him. The Welsh yokels were watching with dull expressions.
Abu looked up at Paulus, coughing up blood. He grinned a sickly grin.
“You think this changes anything? The Western world is doomed. The plan is set in motion, we have crossed the Rubicon.”
“Ok,” Paulus said. Then Abu died.
He looked around the pub. One of the yokels stood up.
“Let’s celebrate, aye?!”
There was a great big cheer and the raising of pint glasses, which were filled as if by magic. The pub burst into gay Welsh song. Paulus couldn’t help but join in. It was over…
Leos
“Wake up you shit!” Curtis’ ginger voice yelled in his ear.
“GRAHhh!” Leos replied moodily. “I am sleeping, too sober!”
Leos felt a slap across his face, and his mouth been forced open.
“Oi!” he protested, until the warm taste of liquor filled his mouth. He opened his eyes groggily to see Curtis, Drr, Boc and Shawn forcing Jack Daniels down his throat. He wasn’t complaining. After swigging nearly the full bottle, Leos suddenly felt invigorated. He stood up.
“Well well well chums!” he said, thoroughly inebriated. “What seems to be the trouble?”
“Leos!” Drr yelled. “We are been taken to the White House! To meet the president!”
“The Who?”
“No! The President!” Boc said.
“Ok.”
“Aren’t you surprised?” Shawn piped up.
“Meh,” Leos said, looking around the helicopter for another bottle of liquor. Wait…helicopter.
“What the fuck, we are on a HELICOPTER. WEEEEE!”
Leos loved helicopters. They had a funny name and they looked funny. He saw the boring white house in the distance, and the dick statue monument. Leos chuckled when he saw it.
“lol boner.”
“Leos this is srs!” Curtis said.
“Matthew,” Vernon said. “I have some friends on the internet who would really like to see that me and you have met. Matthew smiled cheerfully.
“Well that is just great. Let’s take a picture and you can upload it!”
“Sweet! There is just one problem…”
“What is that Vernon?”
“Well, its nothing really…but the website I go to has been hijacked by terrorists.”
Matthew didn’t respond. Vernon was not deterred. He went on.
“So I thought maybe you could raise awareness for the forum and help drum up support to beat these assholes, so then I can upload a picture of us together.”
“…” Matthew said. “Look kid, I have a career to uphold. This is America. I can’t endorse negotiating with TERRORISTS!”
“But!”
“No buts!” Matthew said sternly. “I can’t help you kid, fuck you.”
“NO! DON’T LEAVE ME MATTHEW!”
Matthew stormed off. Vernon fell to his knees, weeping. He felt a craggy hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t worry,” a gremlin like voice whispered in his ear. “Come with me, we can follow the precious around, my precious let’s me go everywhere with him.”
Vernon turned to see…FREDERICK.
“Oh my god.”
Curtis
The helicopter landed. Curtis and the others were forced out at gun point and taken to the white house.
“Woah, this is weird,” DR said.
“Yeah…” Curtis said.
“OH THE WHITE HOUSE. BIG DEAL!” Leos yelled drunkenly. Shawn stayed silent.
They were taken straight to the oval office.
“Well well well,” came an instantly recognizable voice. A man was sitting in a chair, turned away from the door and facing the windows. The chair swivelled round dramatically. Barack Obama was sitting in it.
“I bet you wasn’t expecting that, was you?”
Curtis and the others exchanged confused looks.
“Actually, yeah…we kinda was.”
Obama smiled and stood up.
“Well boys…it is nice to meet you….”
Obama reached into his pocket and took a sly look down at some notes. He was reading from them as he spoke to them.
“I hear you was saying dangerous things on…the internet the other day…terrorismy things.”
Curtis cleared his throat.
“Mr President, if I may-“ Boc started.
“WAIT A MINUTE! I HAVEN’T FINISHED MY SPEECH!”
Everybody stayed silent. This was not the Barack Obama they were used to seeing on TV.
“Terrosimy things are bad children. Very bad. Naughty in fact. You could be tried for…treason.”
“Ohh, treason. I am so scared lol.” Leos said.
“You should be,” Obama said darkly. “I can pardon you kids…but you have to tell me…EVERYTHING.”
“Okay,” Curtis said. “We are not terrorists…our friend in England runs a website we all go on, and it has been hijacked by terrorists and he is been held hostage. The terrorists want the release of five of their brethren.”
He shook his head and laughed. “Oh dear! Why didn’t you say so in the first place!”
Obama picked up the phone, chuckling.
“Kids, this is not a problem. I can have this sorted in moments.”
“Really?” Drr asked.
“Of course…I am the President!”
Obama spoke into the phone.
“Hey Frank…come in here. And fetch the nuclear attack codes!”
Curtis’ stomach lurched.
“Er…Mr President?”
“Yes?” Obama asked amiably.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking care of it! Would you like some hot chocolate whilst we wait?”
The door to the oval office opened and Kevin Spacey walked in.
“Mr President,” he said in a southern drawl.
“Kevin Spacey!” Curtis yelled.
“Um no…I am Frank Underwood, the Vice President of the United States.”
“Did you bring the nuclear codes, Frank?” Obama asked.
“Of course Mr President. Here.”
“Thank you Frank…could you bring these kids some hot chocolate please.”
Frank walked out. Obama got a golden key out of his pants and unlocked a hidden drawer in his desk. He pulled out a big red phone and dialled. A few moments later he was reeling off numbers.
“Hey Karen,” he said after some time. “How are you doing? Good? …. What me? Haha, just fine….Now Karen, can you target all our ICBM’s at England please? … Thank you very much!”
Obama put the phone down and clapped his hands.
“There you go kids, problem solved!”
Curtis and the gang stood there in terror. What had just happened?
Suddenly a bunch of high profile looking suits rushed into the oval office.
“Mr President, England is retaliating!”
Obama laughed so hard he snorted.
“With what?! Sailboats?”
“No sir…with nuclear weapons!”
“Wut? They have nukes too?”
“Er…yeah, Mr President.”
“O.”
There was a long pause. Then the sirens started blaring out.
“Oh fuck! OH. FUCK.” Obama screamed. “Everybody evacuate to Air Force One now! Women, children and Presidents first!”
Obama ran out of the oval office. Curtis and the others made to follow him, but he turned around just as he stepped out the door. He whipped on some shades and nodded at Curtis.
“Sorry, no room for gingers.”
With that, Obama slammed the doors shut and locked them.
“NO!” Curtis yelled, trying the door. It was locked tight. Rose collapsed to the floor in misery. Boc turned to the windows to look out on the chaos outside. Curtis kept trying the door determinedly. He started kicking at it.
“Guys!” Leos shouted. Curtis turned hopefully.
“What is it Leos?” he asked urgently. Leos was stood over by a cabinet.
“A secret way out?”
“No!” Leos yelled. “It’s a whole…a whole bunch of alcohol!”
Curtis’ heart sank. There was no escape. Leos began opening expensive and rare looking bottles of scotch and downing them. Curtis joined Boc at the window and looked out at Washington. People were scurrying about in all directions, terrified. Airforce one thundered across the sunset sky. The sirens continued to blur.
“Boc…who would have thought that NDim would lead to this?”
“Fheh,” Boc replied.
Then the sky exploded in a beautiful and blinding light.
Sansa
Sansa woke up. She had wet her dog litter. She ran out of it and went sniffing for her owner. She found him in his room.
“OH SHIT VERNON I JUST HAD A TERRIBLE NIGHTMARE!” she screamed.
Vernon went wide eyed with terror.
“OH FUCK A TALKING DOG. FUCK!”
