Fan Fiction ❯ Deus ex Conker ❯ Introduction/Disclaimer ( Prologue )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Ultimanium 
Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Adventure / Action | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 09.14.2002 | Pages: 3 | Words: 1.6K | Visits: 237 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Adventure / Action | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 09.14.2002 | Pages: 3 | Words: 1.6K | Visits: 237 | Status: Completed
DEUS EX CONKER
(A continuation of the Ultimatum Saga)
by Ultimanium (Keyvan Chandonnet)
(A/N - When we last left our friend Ultimanium, he had lent Project J2 out to Lord Raul. Lord Raul has just recently given back the Project J2 to Ultimanium, and Ultimanium, utilizing J2, is trying his hardest to screw up the other dimensions into thinking the Ultimatum never happened. This way, the events in the original Ultimatum cannot and will not be modified. Understood? No? In the case that you don't READ THE ULTIMATUM ALREADY!! Or at least the epilogue. Please? Good. On with the show.)
Keyvan walked into the room and flipped on the light. He glanced around at an wall of the room, covered entirely with electrical and sound equipment. 4 booths, facing inwards on each other, sat in the center of the chamber. Keyvan trudged over to the eastern booth, flung open the door, and sat down on the swivel chair in the booth. In the booth with him was a fair amount of auxiliary sound equipment, a radio microphone, and a cup of scalding coffee.
Keyvan twisted a dial, pushed a button... threw a joystick.. and started to speak.
Keyvan : Wakey wakey ladies and gentlemen! This is Keyvan speaking to you on WECUP 590 - Odiaba's Best Rock... at 6:30 we have 20 degrees with a max of 25 for the day and a minimum of 12. 70% chance of light showers. We currently have no interruptions in traffic, so let's get on with the show...
*Radio station dum-de-dum-dum tune plays*
*The door opens again. Two more figures step in, one medium-tall, the other short*
Keyvan : The feature film The Ultimatum has brought in over $140 million since its first playing (under his breath) I wish... OH! and, um, anyways, two of the stars from the show have decided to stop by and star as guest DJs for the remainder of the morning show! C'mon in, guys!
*The booths on both sides of Ultimanium open up. Davis and Veemon step in and hop in their seats. The station dum-de-dum-dum plays again*
Davis : (In a faint voice) Hey, Keyvan! Do you have another starring role for us?
Keyvan : (sighs) Switch on the right, Davis.
*Davis flips the switch*
Davis : (booming) WELL, ANYWAYS, WHAT I MEANT TO SAY WAS...
Keyvan & Veemon : (Covering their ears) Volume, Davis!
*Davis turns the dial*
Davis : Er, sorry there.
Keyvan : Alright, guys. Do you know what you're here for?
Veemon : Can't say I do.
Keyvan : Well, how would you like to critique a fanfic? My continuation of the Ultimatum and a guaranteed bestseller! (under his breath) shut up, Keyvan... Oh! Okay then. You two will help me edit it. It stars
Davis : Keanu Reeves!
Veemon : Bruce Willis!
Keyvan : Conker the red squirrel.
Veemon : (sighs) I HATE independant actors...
Keyvan : You wanna be DJs or not?
Davis : As long as you have some Limp Bizkit.
Keyvan : You guys wait here, I'll get some out of my car. Back right after these messages!
*The On Air light in the corner dims down. Davis looks at the rough script ahead of him.*
Davis : Well... it couldn't be THAT bad... I mean.. it's not nearly as long as The Ultimatum... well, Vee, we might as well get to work.
Veemon : (groans and picks up his duotang) Fine...
Alright, people... Keyvan does not own Rage Against The Machine, Limp Bizkit, Rammestein, Pringles potato chips, Diablo/Diablo II from Blizzard, Mechwarrior, Encarta Encyclopedia, Batman, Memorex, Epson (Though he DOES have an Epson color printer), Conker or Conker's Bad Fur Day... but he can say that he has beaten it and anyone who says anything in here is truly wrong can kiss his fat hairy ass. Or correct him, if they're responsible readers. So there. I SURE HOPE YOU ACTUALLY PLAYED CBFD THE FULL WAY THROUGH, OTHERWISE SOME THINGS IN HERE WILL MAKE NO SENSE... TO THAT EXTENT, SPOILERS ARE EVERYWHERE!!
All interventions by Keyvan during the fic were made when he was typing the actual script.
On with the actual story!
Conker took another swig from his draft and brought the can down hard on the wooden table ahead of him. Another news broadcast on TV revealed nothing of his disappearance.
The Cock and Plucker was completely empty save for Conker, a work experience student sweeping the floor, and the usual bulky bartender with the cop-show mustache polishing some shot glasses.
(A/N - The bartender does not have a name. As do many of the characters in Conker's Bad Fur Day. For identification purposes only, the bartender will be referred to as..)
*Keyvan glances around the room, then back at this monitor. The Matrix soundtrack is running in Winamp. He scans the playlist for something fitting.*
"Rammestein," the worker asked in a squeaky voice. "Where can I dump this trash?"
Rammestein shook his head. "You could try the garbage can." He answered, somewhat annoyed. As the lanky attendant stumbled off in search of a garbage can or something that looked and functioned similar, Rammestein turned to Conker's seat, nearest to the bar. "Another off day?"
Conker stared inbetween the planks of the table, trying not to draw the attention of the worker. "Nah, just another escape from the officials, you know the drill."
"You're one of my best customers, Conker," Rammestein sighed. "It'd be a shame to see you handed off and tossed in the slammer."
Conker growled. "Okay, if you haven't figured it out yet... I need to know you'll keep a secret."
Rammestein shrugged. "Yeah, .. sure. Why?"
Conker pointed to the obscenely large crown sitting on his head. "Alright, you see this?"
"Yeah? What about it?"
Conker lifted the heavy circlet off of his head and held it in front of him. "Tell me... who wears crowns? 24/7? And spends lots of time in bars?"
"Well, there is this hammered squirrel I had to toss out a couple of times during the past week..."
"THAT WAS ME!!" Conker yelled.
"....oh. And?"
Conker grit his teeth. "...crown?... comes in at evenings?.. who wears crowns a lot?"
"You."
"No no NOO!! I mean like a stereotype! Who wears crowns?!"
Rammestein stood, puzzled.
Conker jumped up on the table. "I am a KING!! KING CONKER!!"
Silence.
Rammestein snapped his fingers. "THAT was the word..."
A loud rapping came from the door.
"Who is it?" Rammestein shouted.
"Hand over possession of our majesty and we'll see reason to not destroy this compound and get him ourselves!!" A muffled voice replied.
Conker rolled his eyes. "Woulda figured... I gotta go. Put the drink on my tab."
Conker was ready to yank open the heavy wooden door when a wave of bullets pierced through the wall around the door and blasted many of the bottles on the rack behind Rammestein, sending shards of glass everywhere.
Conker threw open the door. "WHAT DO YOU WANT?!"
He looked down. Rodent was standing in front of him, backed by at least 80 troops with assault rifles.
Rodent grinned. "Majesty! Am I glad to see you! We needed you but we couldn't find you so I got the 34th and 35th regiments together and we launched a search for you! I'm so glad we succeeded! Now we can.."
Conker frowned. "Get to the point, Rodent. What is it this time?"
"You're past your curfew, sir, we started getting worried and.."
Conker slapped his forehead. "Fine.. lead the way.."
********
The heavy metal doors fly open... and the usual scene is there. What seems like hundreds of servants sit at the foot of the gargantuan throne, and seated on it is the omnipotent Conker. It was nearly 10:30 PM, and none of the faithful denizens had any fatigue in them yet.
Conker's hand was beginning to get sore. He reached over and placed the half-full milk glass onto the table next to him. The table wobbled on its three legs and toppled, and the glass hit the ground with a crash.
"Ugh.. I'll clean that up in a second..." Conker sighed.
As the citizens of Conker's land faced forward faithfully, Conker reached behind him, pulled out a rolled-up carpet and dropped it on the ground in front of the throne. Conker checked around him, then stepped off the throne onto the B-emblazoned carpet. He pulled out a gas mask and a tank of gas, turning the valve.
After everybody in the room collapsed quite harmoniously, Conker made his way to the center of the throne room and looked about him. Everybody was sacked.
He grinned and rubbed his hands together. "Context sensitivity is bliss."
Conker struggled to lift the tank and began carrying it back to his chair. "Yeah, sleeping gas is a commodity..."
He collapsed into his chair alongside the canister and glanced at a label on the side for a second. "Funny, is sleeping gas that much of a biohazard? I never woulda guessed. Hey, wait a minute... Sarin nerve gas? What the fuck?! This isn't the stuff I ordered!!"
Several people had already begun crawling toward the exit. Rodent, wearing a gas mask as well, ushered people through the door. As soon as everybody who was living had left the premises, Rodent bounded up to the throne and began to drag Conker out. "Sire, we have to get you out of the palace! We believe someone may have set off some nerve gas in the ventilation to assassinate you!!"
Conker groaned. Idiots. It was going to be one of those days.
(A continuation of the Ultimatum Saga)
by Ultimanium (Keyvan Chandonnet)
(A/N - When we last left our friend Ultimanium, he had lent Project J2 out to Lord Raul. Lord Raul has just recently given back the Project J2 to Ultimanium, and Ultimanium, utilizing J2, is trying his hardest to screw up the other dimensions into thinking the Ultimatum never happened. This way, the events in the original Ultimatum cannot and will not be modified. Understood? No? In the case that you don't READ THE ULTIMATUM ALREADY!! Or at least the epilogue. Please? Good. On with the show.)
Keyvan walked into the room and flipped on the light. He glanced around at an wall of the room, covered entirely with electrical and sound equipment. 4 booths, facing inwards on each other, sat in the center of the chamber. Keyvan trudged over to the eastern booth, flung open the door, and sat down on the swivel chair in the booth. In the booth with him was a fair amount of auxiliary sound equipment, a radio microphone, and a cup of scalding coffee.
Keyvan twisted a dial, pushed a button... threw a joystick.. and started to speak.
Keyvan : Wakey wakey ladies and gentlemen! This is Keyvan speaking to you on WECUP 590 - Odiaba's Best Rock... at 6:30 we have 20 degrees with a max of 25 for the day and a minimum of 12. 70% chance of light showers. We currently have no interruptions in traffic, so let's get on with the show...
*Radio station dum-de-dum-dum tune plays*
*The door opens again. Two more figures step in, one medium-tall, the other short*
Keyvan : The feature film The Ultimatum has brought in over $140 million since its first playing (under his breath) I wish... OH! and, um, anyways, two of the stars from the show have decided to stop by and star as guest DJs for the remainder of the morning show! C'mon in, guys!
*The booths on both sides of Ultimanium open up. Davis and Veemon step in and hop in their seats. The station dum-de-dum-dum plays again*
Davis : (In a faint voice) Hey, Keyvan! Do you have another starring role for us?
Keyvan : (sighs) Switch on the right, Davis.
*Davis flips the switch*
Davis : (booming) WELL, ANYWAYS, WHAT I MEANT TO SAY WAS...
Keyvan & Veemon : (Covering their ears) Volume, Davis!
*Davis turns the dial*
Davis : Er, sorry there.
Keyvan : Alright, guys. Do you know what you're here for?
Veemon : Can't say I do.
Keyvan : Well, how would you like to critique a fanfic? My continuation of the Ultimatum and a guaranteed bestseller! (under his breath) shut up, Keyvan... Oh! Okay then. You two will help me edit it. It stars
Davis : Keanu Reeves!
Veemon : Bruce Willis!
Keyvan : Conker the red squirrel.
Veemon : (sighs) I HATE independant actors...
Keyvan : You wanna be DJs or not?
Davis : As long as you have some Limp Bizkit.
Keyvan : You guys wait here, I'll get some out of my car. Back right after these messages!
*The On Air light in the corner dims down. Davis looks at the rough script ahead of him.*
Davis : Well... it couldn't be THAT bad... I mean.. it's not nearly as long as The Ultimatum... well, Vee, we might as well get to work.
Veemon : (groans and picks up his duotang) Fine...
Alright, people... Keyvan does not own Rage Against The Machine, Limp Bizkit, Rammestein, Pringles potato chips, Diablo/Diablo II from Blizzard, Mechwarrior, Encarta Encyclopedia, Batman, Memorex, Epson (Though he DOES have an Epson color printer), Conker or Conker's Bad Fur Day... but he can say that he has beaten it and anyone who says anything in here is truly wrong can kiss his fat hairy ass. Or correct him, if they're responsible readers. So there. I SURE HOPE YOU ACTUALLY PLAYED CBFD THE FULL WAY THROUGH, OTHERWISE SOME THINGS IN HERE WILL MAKE NO SENSE... TO THAT EXTENT, SPOILERS ARE EVERYWHERE!!
All interventions by Keyvan during the fic were made when he was typing the actual script.
On with the actual story!
Conker took another swig from his draft and brought the can down hard on the wooden table ahead of him. Another news broadcast on TV revealed nothing of his disappearance.
The Cock and Plucker was completely empty save for Conker, a work experience student sweeping the floor, and the usual bulky bartender with the cop-show mustache polishing some shot glasses.
(A/N - The bartender does not have a name. As do many of the characters in Conker's Bad Fur Day. For identification purposes only, the bartender will be referred to as..)
*Keyvan glances around the room, then back at this monitor. The Matrix soundtrack is running in Winamp. He scans the playlist for something fitting.*
"Rammestein," the worker asked in a squeaky voice. "Where can I dump this trash?"
Rammestein shook his head. "You could try the garbage can." He answered, somewhat annoyed. As the lanky attendant stumbled off in search of a garbage can or something that looked and functioned similar, Rammestein turned to Conker's seat, nearest to the bar. "Another off day?"
Conker stared inbetween the planks of the table, trying not to draw the attention of the worker. "Nah, just another escape from the officials, you know the drill."
"You're one of my best customers, Conker," Rammestein sighed. "It'd be a shame to see you handed off and tossed in the slammer."
Conker growled. "Okay, if you haven't figured it out yet... I need to know you'll keep a secret."
Rammestein shrugged. "Yeah, .. sure. Why?"
Conker pointed to the obscenely large crown sitting on his head. "Alright, you see this?"
"Yeah? What about it?"
Conker lifted the heavy circlet off of his head and held it in front of him. "Tell me... who wears crowns? 24/7? And spends lots of time in bars?"
"Well, there is this hammered squirrel I had to toss out a couple of times during the past week..."
"THAT WAS ME!!" Conker yelled.
"....oh. And?"
Conker grit his teeth. "...crown?... comes in at evenings?.. who wears crowns a lot?"
"You."
"No no NOO!! I mean like a stereotype! Who wears crowns?!"
Rammestein stood, puzzled.
Conker jumped up on the table. "I am a KING!! KING CONKER!!"
Silence.
Rammestein snapped his fingers. "THAT was the word..."
A loud rapping came from the door.
"Who is it?" Rammestein shouted.
"Hand over possession of our majesty and we'll see reason to not destroy this compound and get him ourselves!!" A muffled voice replied.
Conker rolled his eyes. "Woulda figured... I gotta go. Put the drink on my tab."
Conker was ready to yank open the heavy wooden door when a wave of bullets pierced through the wall around the door and blasted many of the bottles on the rack behind Rammestein, sending shards of glass everywhere.
Conker threw open the door. "WHAT DO YOU WANT?!"
He looked down. Rodent was standing in front of him, backed by at least 80 troops with assault rifles.
Rodent grinned. "Majesty! Am I glad to see you! We needed you but we couldn't find you so I got the 34th and 35th regiments together and we launched a search for you! I'm so glad we succeeded! Now we can.."
Conker frowned. "Get to the point, Rodent. What is it this time?"
"You're past your curfew, sir, we started getting worried and.."
Conker slapped his forehead. "Fine.. lead the way.."
********
The heavy metal doors fly open... and the usual scene is there. What seems like hundreds of servants sit at the foot of the gargantuan throne, and seated on it is the omnipotent Conker. It was nearly 10:30 PM, and none of the faithful denizens had any fatigue in them yet.
Conker's hand was beginning to get sore. He reached over and placed the half-full milk glass onto the table next to him. The table wobbled on its three legs and toppled, and the glass hit the ground with a crash.
"Ugh.. I'll clean that up in a second..." Conker sighed.
As the citizens of Conker's land faced forward faithfully, Conker reached behind him, pulled out a rolled-up carpet and dropped it on the ground in front of the throne. Conker checked around him, then stepped off the throne onto the B-emblazoned carpet. He pulled out a gas mask and a tank of gas, turning the valve.
After everybody in the room collapsed quite harmoniously, Conker made his way to the center of the throne room and looked about him. Everybody was sacked.
He grinned and rubbed his hands together. "Context sensitivity is bliss."
Conker struggled to lift the tank and began carrying it back to his chair. "Yeah, sleeping gas is a commodity..."
He collapsed into his chair alongside the canister and glanced at a label on the side for a second. "Funny, is sleeping gas that much of a biohazard? I never woulda guessed. Hey, wait a minute... Sarin nerve gas? What the fuck?! This isn't the stuff I ordered!!"
Several people had already begun crawling toward the exit. Rodent, wearing a gas mask as well, ushered people through the door. As soon as everybody who was living had left the premises, Rodent bounded up to the throne and began to drag Conker out. "Sire, we have to get you out of the palace! We believe someone may have set off some nerve gas in the ventilation to assassinate you!!"
Conker groaned. Idiots. It was going to be one of those days.