The Official Fairfax Underground Novel: Fairfax Underground Uprising: Book One--The Wrath of Inkahootz
Date: February 03, 2010 09:55PM
After the unprecedented success of Murder at the Super Bowl, I decide to make the Fairfax Underground Novel my next project. So here are chapters 1-3. James Cameron is already attached to direct the movie adaptation, with Amy Fisher starring as Spunky, Jake Gyllenhal as Bloody Blisters, Jason Bateman as Eesh, Hume Cronyn as Harry Tuttle, Barry Pepper as Mr.Mephisto, Steve Buscemi as Washington-Locian, Hal Holbrook as Graymoose, and HAL9000 from 2001: A Space Odyssey as Alias. En-Joy.
In the second film of the trilogy, Pauly Shore will portray Vince(1), Mickey Rourke as Inkahootz, Nathan Lane as Meeper, and Freddie Prinze Sr. as Expensive Jeans. Dr. Evil's hairless cat from Austin Powers will make a cameo as LOLcat and Paul Reubens will play Mastubator Machine Man.
Fairfax Underground Uprising: Book One--The Wrath of Inkahootz
CHAPTER 1: A Premonition
Eesh woke up to a pounding outside his door. The pounding grew more intense, first crossing over into dreams--Eesh dreamed that he was surrounded by an angry mob wielding torches and pitchforks--first the pounding was low and indistinct, drowned out almost completely by the cries and shouts of the angry townspeople. The pounding grew louder--more intense--and gradually he was jerked out of the dream--the pounding was real. Rubbing his eyes and looking over at the alarm clock on his nightstand, Eesh confusedly rolled out of bed, holding his head at odd angles and massaging his temples. He opened the door, slowly, only a crack, one eye peering out to meet the person of Harry Tuttle towering over him, hands clasped in strangely delicate manner. "Harry," Eesh said, his voice still catching up with his brain, disoriented still from the angry townspeople in his dream. "What are you doing here? What time is it, Harry?"
"Never mind the time," Harry said, pushing his way into the room, politely as his force could allow. "We have a problem."
"Well...," Eesh said, stepping aside as Harry made himself at home, "What is it?"
Harry Tuttle only stroked his graying beard and let out a great sigh. "Harry," Eesh repeated, now gaining his bearings and crossing his arms in exasperation.
"Eesh, my friend..." Harry took a deliberate pause; pregnantly, it dangled there. In his usual professorial manner, Harry stroked his beard, and as if searching for the words, began to speak in a grave tone. "Eesh, my friend...it appears that Inkahootz has gained access to the mainframe."
Eesh only stood there, arms crossed, head cocked like a dog at some high-pitched whistle. "What do you mean, Inkahootz has gained access to the mainframe...Inkahootz has been dead for over a year. I saw Bloody lop his head off with my own eyes."
"True. That did happen. But," Harry continued in his deliberate tone, "it also seems that with the help of Expensive Jeans and the sorcery of Spunky's syndicate, he has been revived."
"Revived," Eesh repeated.
"Revived, yes," Harry replied. "Spunky's influence within the syndicate appears to be farther-reaching than even Bloody had imagined. Inkahootz's brain wave patterns have been salvaged from the archives, and have been implanted in a cybernetic body created for the sole purpose of infecting the FU mainframe.....and ultimately seizing control of the sourcing code."
"That means..."
"Yes," Harry said, "it means that the very fabric of time and space may unravel. With Cary gone, there is no administrator powerful enough to defend the mainframe."
"What next," Eesh asked, strapping his proton lazer into its holster and fastening his utility belt.
"We must rendevouz with Bloody Blisters in the high temple of Mclean Citadel. His years of meditation in the wastelands of Manassas have prepared him to meet the threat of Inkahootz and Expensive Jeans' hordes. I believe Bloody is our last hope, Eesh. You must put aside your differences for the common good. The very fabric of the FFXU matrix depends upon it."
"Great," Eesh sighed, cocking his proton blaster and aiming--arms outstretched--at the mirror. "And this was supposed to be my day off."
CHAPTER 2: The Wrath of the Simulacra Horde
"I have waited for this day." Bloody Blisters smoothed back his hair. His eyes sunken...his cheekbones collapsed and ashen, Bloody Blisters set forth an offering on the mantle before him. "It shall be done." Slowly rising to his feet, Bloody turned to face the monitor at his control station. The security tapes had all been wiped clean, but Bloody had been able to salvage the Alias from deep with the matrix. "Alias," he commanded, "what have you been able to reconstruct?"
"I have only been able to decode the first parsecs of the alpha data so far, Sir Blisters."
"A few parsecs?" Bloody asked. "What manner of sorcery be this?"
Alias took a moment to respond, a whirring and beeping emanating from the binary cylinders beneath the console; its robotic voice piping back up from beneath the cylinders, Alias replied finally, "It is an unknown form of plasma interference, Sir Blisters. I cannot decode the Alias data without first reconstructing the matrix sequencing."
"Very well," Blisters said, turning his back to Alias. "I shall await your results."
Blisters felt an uneasy fluttering within his binary circuits. Half man and half machine, he felt nevertheless tragically and hopelessly human at this moment. Powerless. The trials he had endured in the Manassas Wasteland were to prepare him for this day, yet Blisters felt still a sensation that, for nigh on 100 years, he had all but forgotten. His human self mangled and beaten, his machine self in a state of utter disrepair, it seemed the Trials had done nothing to prepare him for this eventuality. For the first time in centuries--in untold numbers of bodies and reincarnations--Blisters felt a gnawing in his circuitry that was all too human...
For the first time in many lives and many years, Bloody Blisters felt fear. The Simulacra Hordes of Spunky and Expensive Jeans were fast descending on the FFXU matrix. Bloody Blisters took a deep breath, knelt at his altar, and offered a prayer.
The rebirth of Inkahootz was finally at hand...and the cataclysm to come would test the very spirit of this warrior. Bloody Blisters remained at the altar. Preparing himself in vain for the real trials to come.
CHAPTER 3: Washingtone-Locian and the Game-Players of Ashburn
"Place your bets, ladies and gentlman." The cyber-punks gathered around the holo-board, fistfuls of money extended into the pit, shouts and obscenities echoing hollowly in the antechamber of the Gaming Matrix. Washingtone-Locian pocketed his winnings, flipped the simulation modulator to the active position, and stood back as the flourescent lightbeams strobed about the gaming dome.
"You think we can play these suckers for another mil'?," Mephisto said furtively over the com-system.
"Best not push our luck," 'tone-Locian replied into his headset.
"C'mon," Mephisto said. "We can take these marks for at least another mil. Just leave it to me."
"I don't know," 'tone-Locian replied, turning his back slightly and pulling up on the collar of his grav-suit.
"I'll take that as a yes."
Suddenly, the game took a deadly turn. The neon strobes began to pulsate violently, the phosphourescent glow illuminating the smoke-filled gaming dome with an ominous instability. The gamers in the center of the dome began to tremble...first slowly--gently. In moments, the gamers positioned behind them let out a collective shriek--their voices distorted with electro-static turbulence.
"What'd I tell 'ya," Mephisto said gloatingly. A great electronic scream erupted from the dome, and in a single flash of neon light, the gamers were vaporized. An unsettling quiet fell over the dome, and Mephisto began to collect the data packs littered about the board...each one a cool grand at least. "I'd say we did pretty good for one day's work, 'Loc."
As Mephisto and Washington-Locian counted their ill-gotten winnings, a strange electromagnetic vibration came over the com-room. "Once a thief, eh, boys?" Materializing before the two grifters was the hologram of Graymoose.
"You son of a bitch," Mephisto shouted, shoving all the data packs spread about the console before him into a large satchel. "We were s'posed to be all good, 'Moose! This was not the deal!"
"I'm not here for your money," Graymoose crowed electronically. "I'm here to deliver a message--a proposal, more like..." Hovering ephemerally above the com-board, Graymoose began to pulsate with a brilliant white light. "You join me and the Syndicate...or you die."
"A proposal, huh?" Washington-Locian said smartly.
"It's open to interpretation." Graymoose slowly began to fade. "You know where to reach me, gentlemen...LOLcat, Mastubator Machine Man and Vince(1) will be awaiting your reply." Sharply, Graymoose vanished.
"Well, old friend, looks like we just got enlisted."
Mephisto bristled. "We're being force to take sides."
"True."
Mephisto threw down the satchel in frustration. "'Tone, man....what do you say we give our old friend Meeper a call."
"You crazy?," Washington-Locian snapped.
"Yeah...but that ain't the point." Mephisto began to pace, stroking his goatee and grinning deviously. "Meep knows a guy who knows a guy...maybe he can pull some strings...so we have something on the 'Moose once we do get called up."
"No," Washingtone-Locian sneered. "No! Not him! Anyone but him!"
"'Tone, dear," Mephisto said, now grinning ear to ear, "Let's give our old buddy Gravis a call."
The gaming dome went dark. Mephisto and Washington-Locian went on about counting up their haul.