Phil, Phill, France, and the End of All Things! Part Four!
The Epic Conclusion!
"Kill them all! Maim them horribly and rip their appendages from their bodies! Then defile the corpses and do a little dance on top of them! Oh, and then go after the Lair Legion," the newly named King of France announced.
"Er, sure, Balefire," Turbo Treesloth said. He surveyed the scene. The Lair Legion was there; or at least some of it. Fin Fang Foom, CrazySugarFreakBoy!, Nats, Sorceress, Ziles, and Dancer faced them, as well as a cadre of mimes, or more precisely, anti-mimes, one of which looked very much like Hatman.
He also seemed to find it odd that they were in the middle of Paris, next to the sandy beach, despite the fact that the nearest major body of water was 70 miles away. He chocked it up to retcons as he launched a volley of missiles towards the Probability Dancer.
"I don't see why you fools continue to fight," Balefire chided them. "I've already destroyed the universe! You can't get it back, so surrender!"
"We won't let the rest of the universe be ruled by you, even if it IS French!" Dancer shouted, improbably dodging the missiles.
Nats and Fin Fang Foom took to the air. Nats attempted to circle behind his somewhat-less-than-amazing adversaries, when he was suddenly knocked off course by a sonic blast from Quake.
"Phew that was close," Nats exhorted, narrowly avoiding a tree. His relief was short lived as he discovered the amazing comfort of concrete and steel support structure.
Fin Fang Foom began to battle with Quake, fighting his way through his foe's force blasts, as Nats came head-to-head with Jean-Pierre.
"Wait, who are you?" Nats asked.
"You 'ave not 'eard of me?" the Frenchman replied. "I am Jean-Pierre! Frenchman extraordinaire!" He produced a wine bottle and hit Nats over the head with it. It didn't shatter.
By this time Ziles had almost reached Birthday Bandit.
"Wait a minute!" the nearly powerless villain shouted and dove behind a large rock. "No, this one won't work, that's not another week from now." he muttered to himself has he paged through his schedule book. "Aha!" he said chancing upon a relevant date. "No one can stop me now that I have the power of..."
Ziles hit him over the head with a box of condoms, sending him sprawling.
"...Argh!Yle, evillest of socks," the Bandit sighed.
"They're breaking. Anti-mimes, attack!" The chief anti-mime announced.
"Not so fast!" a voice yelled from on top of Balefire's castle. Suddenly near a third of the antimimes turned and began attacking their comrades.
"How could this be happening?" commander Winkelweald wondered in astonishments. "These are the most skilled and dedicated French and Canadian-"
"Gotcha right there!"
The gray-cloaked anti-mime commander gasped. "Canadian Nightmare! Of course, he can control the minds of Canadians and French-Canadians! But where did he come from?"
"What do you mean?" the super-villain dressed in the Canadian flag said. "I've been here the whole time!"
"No you haven't," the Florist argued, fending off an elemental attack from Sorceress. "You and... well maybe Jack Knife, missed the whole thing."
"Well it's not my fault if people don't wake me up and tell me we're taking over the France."
The Florist controlled a group of vines to ensnare Sorceress. "*The* France?"
"Oh, you know what I mean," Canadian Nightmare responded, punching random anti-mimes.
Sorceress used a spell to turn the vines back on the Florist. "Er, nice trick," he said, tossing a few pots in her direction. They exploded, releasing three giant venus fly traps, with large pointed teeth.
"V'at is 'appening to me?" Hatman cried hunched over on his knees. "I must 'elp my anti-mime broz'airs, but I feel zo Canadian..."
"Jay!" Sorceress cried, looking over to her distressed lover. It was just enough time for the overgrown plants to reach her.
Dancer planted two feet directly in Turbo Treesloth's midsection. "Ziles, I think Jay could use some help!"
"Good idea," the Xnylonian exile replied, brandishing some relaxor creme. "If I can get that beret off Jay's head...but someone will have to stop Canadian Nightmare first!"
Sorceress struggled with the venus fly traps. "People traps is more like it," she decided.
Meanwhile, Nats ran down a side path dodging lumps of moldy cheese.
"Do you actually have any super powers?" Nats asked the Fanatical Frenchman. Quickly he jumped to the side as a loaf of 3 year old bread sailed past him.
"I 'ave an arsenal of decidedly French zubztanzes," Jean-Pierre retorted.
Balefire decided the situation was getting out of hand. "Oh well. It's been nice knowing you, Phill."
"It's Phil, actually," Phill or Phil replied.
"Whatever. Enjoy the rest of your meaningless existence." With that, Balefire pushed him into the attacking crowd of anti-mimes and escaped on two aero-discs on his boots.
"Damn it I should have known this would happen," Balefire muttered as he zipped away towards his castle. "Well, maybe not the anti-mime bit but who could have seen that coming. Whatever force makes all this stuff up must really be pulling for plot ideas. Luckily I came somewhat prepared..."
Speaking to the holographic projection above his wrist band, "Arm cannons one and two. And release the semi-secret weapons."
His castle, now situated on the Parisian beach somehow, activated, humming with life. Twin cannons appeared out of the walls, firing randomly into the crowd of combatants.
Then the semi-secret weapons deployed.
Balefire situated himself his command tower directly between the energy cannons. He poured himself a cup of slow roasted grease and basked in irony as he ate a plate of semi-sweet chocolate chip cookies.
Pressing a few buttons on the control consol, a three-dimensional layout of the ensuing battle materialized.
"The semi-secret weapons should reach the fray at any moment now."
The gray-cloaked leader of the anti-mimes leaped into action. He snatched Turbo Treesloth's rocket pack from his unconscious form and put it on. It was very tight, as he was much taller than the sloth, but it propelled him into the air just as well.
"Now to deal with those weapons which are coming towards me. And then, Balefire! I must beat him, or my name isn't Ioldobaoth Winkleweald! Which it is.”
Balefire watched as the first of the semi-secret weapons reached the first heroes.
Nats turned around and barely had time to blink as the thing crushed his skull in and continued down through most of his spinal column.
Balefire giggled.
No one seemed able to describe the horrific killing machines that were ripping through heroes and anti-mimes alike with equal ease.
"Holy mother of God...!" Finny screamed as he saw Nats's entire body get completely destroyed by the semi-secret weapon.
Using the distraction, Quake slammed his fist into the dragon's face, sending him sprawling.
Sorceress quickly used a spell to end the threat of the plants, and took the Florist out with a quick kick to the stomach.
"What ARE those things?" wondered Canadian Nightmare out loud.
"And that's odd too!" a semi-conscious Turbo Treesloth muttered as a giant pink elephant crushed him."
Meanwhile Nats continued his battle with the Birthday Bandit.
"That's odd," Balefire muttered, "I never deployed any pink elephants..., and wasn't Nats dead? I could've sworn. Perhaps... no that can't be it. They cancelled themselves out..."
"You thought your plan was going perfectly, didn't you?" the gray cloaked mime said as he landed in the tower. "You didn't count on excess retconic residues to remain tied to reality."
"What? The Hooded Hood? No! Get away!" Balefire shouted.
"Who is this Hooded Hood everyone keeps talking about? I'm Ioldobaoth Winkleweald, I tell you! Anti-mime leader!"
"But...Ioldobaoth *is* the Hooded Hood. Unless you're from a different reality. Or story thread," Balefire figured. "Perhaps the retcons created your story thread in the first place, looping over and over again until the story tried to right itself! Why, the possibilities...!"
Balefire continued to muse. "Quite scary, if you think about it. If Ioldobaoth never gained retconic powers he would have become the leader of a group of talk..."
His train of thought was cut short as he ducked under a jet pack that came hurtling through the air towards him.
"Hey! I was musing there! No attacking during the expositioning!" Balefire complained. He sent a flame of balefire from his hand. Ioldobaoth dodged it.
"You don't throw a jetpack at Balefire and get away with it that easily!" Balefire exclaimed. He leapt towards Ioldobaoth only to find them both on pink flamingos tumbling towards the ground at detrimental speeds.
"This could prove quite lethal," Ioldobaoth remarked, "if I don't think of something fast!"
Hatman removed the beret from his head through the use of relaxor creme. "Oh my God, we've got to do something before---"
Moments before hitting the ground, Balefire reactivated his aeroboots and hovered away from the wreckage that was Ioldobaoth and two pink flamingos which were now more than likely red and splattered.
"I've won! My semi-secret weapons are just about done destroying the heroes and one incarnation or another of the Hooded Hood is dead at my hands! I really am the King of Fra-" Balefire unfortunately cut his ranting short as a bullet hole found it self situated in it's chest, as a second followed suit.
"How did it get through the armor?" he pondered before collapsing.
Then suddenly, for no ponder-able reason the side of a building collapsed.
“And the award for best male role in a French adult film goes to... spiffy! C’mon up here!”
spiffy approached the podium. “I’d like to thank everyone who helped me get where I am today. My mom for…”
***
The Destroyer of Tales quickly closed the book.
"What the hell was that?" he said before burning it.
The End!
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