Archive for lost cause

Dan Cheek Presentes: Bob, Lost Cause, Dr. Sanity & Goblin

Posted in Video with tags , , , , , , , , on August 27, 2009 by Rob Sandman
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Be Sure to Read All Warning Labels Before Use – Part One

Posted in Puppet Stories with tags , , , , , , , , on March 18, 2008 by Dan Cheek

 

Warning Label

Be Sure to Read All Warning Labels Before Use – Part One
By: Rob Sandman
18 March 2008
© Robert Sandman 2008

As Sam walks in the front door; Lost Cause, Bob, Dr. Sanity and Goblin all turn to look at him from the couch.  Lost Cause quickly hangs up the phone after seeing Sam enter.  Goblin jumps off the couch and heads into the other room and the group starts to giggle uncontrollably.  “What’s so funny guys,” Sam asked looking quite suspicious of the puppets?

“Nothing” Bob quickly snapped back with.

Now knowing that something wasn’t right, Sam decided to press the issue.  “What are you guys up to?”

Lost Cause decided to finally chime in, “Oh, just checking on a recent order that I made.  It should have been here by now but for some reason it’s not.”

“What did you charge on my credit card now,” Sam asked with a slight bit of hesitation in his voice.

Knowing that things were going to take a turn for the worse, Dr. Sanity decided that he would be the best person to explain the situation.  “Just something for a little experiment that I am conducting.  We’ve ordered an air-powered tube that is used for the enhancement of blood flow for the full stimulation the male member.”

A dumbfounded look suddenly appeared over Sam’s face.  It took a few seconds before he could manage to get a word out.  “A whaaaaaaaaaa?”

Not taking his eyes off the TV Bob just blurted out “Penis pump.”

The dumbfounded look on Sam’s face slowly faded into frustration.  “You ordered a penis pump?  What the hell is wrong with you guys?”

“Now Sam, nothing’s wrong with us, we just heard that this device is used for male enhancement and we wanted to see what other things it could be used for.”

“So…. what exactly are you going to do with it,” asked Sam slightly intrigued but also afraid of the response he would get?

Bob quickly cut off whatever response Lost Cause was going to give.  “Oh, we could tell you, but then we’d have to kill you.”

Sam decided not turn this into a battle of wits because he knew that he wasn’t going to get his point across.  “Listen, I would appreciate it if you guys would stop ordering shit with my credit card.  You’re probably going to tell me next that you’re using it to make popcorn.”

“DAMN IT!  You’ve been reading my notes again,” screamed Doc.  “LC, fire that stupid monkey, and run an ad in the paper for a new assistant because he can’t guard anything worth damn.  All he does all day is whack off and fling shit at everything anyway.”

“I wasn’t serious, I was just making a statement.”  Starting to get frustrated with the conversation going nowhere, Sam decided to just give it up.  “You know I have to pay for all the stuff you guys buy…” Suddenly in the background muffled screams could be heard followed by growling from Goblin.  After a few seconds the screams stop and silence once again falls on the apartment. 

“…What the hell is he doing now?”

“It’s delivery,” chucked Lost Cause.

“It’s not delivery,” Bob interjected, “it DiGiornio!”

Giggling uncontrollably, Lost Cause popped back, “No, it’s definitely delivery.”

“Okay, you got me there, but I wanted to actually have chance to say that line to someone and it was just too perfect of an opportunity to pass up.”

Sam, being the killjoy that he is had to ruin the moment.  “That’s just great, I guess I can expect another visit from the police searching for another missing pizza delivery guy.” 

“Look Sam, it’s pure coincidence that the delivery guys just so happen to disappear after coming to our place” said Doc.

Trying to help the cause Bob decided to add something to the conversation.  “Yup, it’s all circumstantial.  Besides they can never find a body to link to you anyway.”

“Excuse me; do you recall the fried delivery guy at the door?  Remember I had to get rid of him” Sam barked back.

“Oh, that’s right I forgot about that guy,” said LC looking over at the group.

“You know, this is just like the time your order those chain saws,” Sam said, starting to become agitated.

“But, it was for Arbor Day,” Doc said, almost sounding eerily heartbroken,

“Doc, you’re supposed to plant trees, not cut down a whole forest,” responded Sam.  “I thought you understood the whole concept of it.”

“Minor detail,” Doc shouted back.  “Hey, what about the time you told me I should do something constructive like saving the whales.  I took your advice on that one.”

Almost expecting this Sam quickly shot back, “You ordered a petrified whale penis and converted it into a lava spewing lawn sprinkler.  How does that in any way qualify as saving the whales?”

Now becoming clearly annoyed with the way things were going, all Doc could do was utter out the words, “Bahhhhh!”

Becoming equally annoyed, “I knew this whole conversation would be totally pointless.  Why do I even bother,” Sam said with frustration clearly developing in his voice?

“It gives you some sense of satisfaction to feel like your point gets across to us,” Bob chimed in as if his statement would somehow help the situation.  “Unfortunately it falls on deaf ears.”

“Whatever!  Anyway I have a date to get ready for so I’m hoping that you guys can please make yourselves scarce tonight.”  Sam decided he was fighting a losing battle and wanted to end things before it went any further.  “I would like to avoid repeating our last situation again.”
LC thought for a minute before deciding to speak.  “But I thought you liked that crazy girl with the semi-automatic weapons who tried to kill you?”

“Not that one,” yelled Sam “for the love of God, I’m talking about the girl who worked in the bookstore.”
As if a light switch were turned on, Bob quickly reminded the others.  “Ohhh her…yeah I forgot about her…terrible thing about that one…”

Sam quickly cut Bob off before he could even finish what he was saying, “…yes and I ask that you never mention her again.  I still have those horrible images burned in my mind.”  Making his way towards the stairs Sam looked back over his shoulder.  “I’m going to take a shower now and you guys had better keep out of sight when I get back tonight.”

It was about an hour after Sam left that the doorbell rang.  All four puppets were sitting on the couch watching TV and each of them was equally dumbfounded by the sound of the bell.  Bob looked around at the other three puppets while asking “did any of you call for delivery?”  Goblin was the only one to respond with a grunt. 

LC jumped off the couch and made his way over to the door.  Not sure what to do he blurted out “Who is it?”

A voice from behind the door bellowed “DHL, I have a delivery for a Mr. Sam…,” but LC quickly cut him off.  “Umm yeah, can you just leave it at the door I’m in the middle of shaving my…cat…and can’t get to the door.”

There was a slight pause before the DHL guy responded.  “Umm, sure thing buddy, not a problem.”  There was a loud thud followed by hurried footsteps.  LC waited a minute before getting the package from behind the door.

LC brought the package back over to the couch and quickly tore into it like it was his birthday.  “I can’t believe it’s finally here,” he bellowed with excitement.  “I thought it would never get here.” 

All four puppets looked into the bottom of the box as if it were some type of Holy Grail; then disappointment finally set in.  Doc was the first one to speak up.  “Well, that’s not what I was expecting.”  Almost puzzled, “I would have thought there would have been more to it.”

Bob thought to himself for a minute before he decided to add his two cents.  “It’s just a plastic tube with a pump on the end of it.  I think we’re the ones who got the shaft on this one.”

LC tossed the pump onto the table.  Goblin chuckled to himself as if somewhat amused by this whole situation before deciding to jump off the couch and head into the other room.  The three remaining puppets remained in an uncomfortable silence.  Doc decided to be the one to break it.  “So, why don’t we go check out this little project I’m working on?”  Bob & LC both nodded without saying a word and quickly followed Doc up the stairs to his lab.

A few hours later a key could be heard unlocking the front door followed by footsteps and voices.  LC ran over to Bob in a panic.  “Ohh my God, I just realized I left the uhhhh…..the uhhhhh….”  Bob, finishing LC’s sentence “penis pump.”  With a thankful nod, LC continued “yeah, I left it on the table in the living room and Sam’s home with his date.”  Bob just turned his head and a sly grin slowly escaped the sides of his mouth as he hissed “really, that’s just perfect.”

(TO BE CONTINUED)

Sock Puppet Interview – Bob

Posted in Puppet Stories with tags , , , , , on February 28, 2008 by Dan Cheek

Bob

Today, I will be interviewing Bob, one of the four Sock Puppets From Hell. Bob is often described as the “leader” of the Sock Puppets and also as the least insane. Hopefully, by the end of the interview, we’ll have a better idea of who Bob is and what makes him tick.

SPFH: Bob, you probably get this question a lot, but what’s it like going through life as a Sock Puppet?

Bob: First off, I really don’t get that question a lot. You’re actually the first to ask. As for what it’s like being a Sock Puppet, well, it’s not all that bad. Except when I get chased by dogs and homicidal clowns.

SPFH: Homicidal clowns?

Bob: Hasn’t the “Kill Smile” story been released yet? Oh, no I guess it hasn’t. Well, when it is released, you’ll understand.

SPFH: I see. Moving on, you are often referred to as the “leader of the Sock Puppets From Hell.” How did you obtain that role?

Bob: I’m just a lucky fucking guy, I guess. Seriously, though, it’s just something I fell into. Plus, when you consider the mental capacities, or lack thereof, of the other three maniacs I pal around with, it’s not all that hard to figure out. I see myself, however, not so much as a leader but more as a parent type figure for the other Puppets.

SPFH: So, as a parent, do you consider yourself a failure?

Bob: Explain that.

SPFH: Well, Doctor Sanity routinely blows things up, causes millions of dollars worth of collateral damage, and could be considered one of the most destructive characters in all of history. Lost Cause is a drug addled, over medicated, mentally damaged shell of a Sock Puppet who pals around with a homeless drunk. And Goblin, well Goblin has killed more people than Tony Montana did in Scarface.

Bob: I blame television. And rap music.

SPFH: Rap music made Goblin eat a pizza delivery guy?

Bob: I think we’re done here.

SPFH: And did television make Doctor Sanity unleash a remote controlled flying chainsaw on a Mime convention?

Bob: You can blame the television show, Doctor Quinn: Medicine Woman for that. And, yes, we are done here. I’m leaving.

Please join us in two weeks as we sit down with Doctor Sanity.  You can read all about Bob and the other Sock Puppets From Hell by checking out the Sock Puppet Story Page.  All for now.

The Sock Puppets From Hell – Official Art

Posted in Artwork and Comics with tags , , , , , , on February 25, 2008 by Dan Cheek
Sock Puppets From Hell
Artwork by: Dan Cheek

Lost Cause Doodling

Posted in Artwork and Comics with tags , , , , , on February 21, 2008 by Dan Cheek
Lost Cause

Blackout – Part One

Posted in Puppet Stories with tags , , , , , , , , on January 11, 2008 by Dan Cheek

Blackout
By Dan Cheek
11 January 2007
© Dan Cheek 2007

Blackout!

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Bob said as he sat watching television, along with the other Sock Puppets and Sam, the guy they had taken up living with some time ago. “Why are there so many damn reality shows on TV?”

Sam, who was sitting next to Bob on the couch, offered the explanation, “Well, probably because all of the TV writers are on strike. They want new contracts and until they get them, no new TV shows.”

Doctor Sanity, the mad scientist of the Sock Puppets, exploded with anger. “Bullshit,” he exclaimed, “They want more money and they are holding my television hostage until they get it?! This is an act of war! Why hasn’t the President killed all of these terrorists outright?!?”

Sam just sat there, shaking his head. Trying to reason with Doctor Sanity, especially when he was angry, was like trying to convince a Speak and Spell that it just spelled something wrong. It just wouldn’t work. “I don’t know, Doc,” Sam said at last, “Maybe he’s rooting for them or something. Who knows.”

“I kind of like all of these reality shows,” Lost Cause, the manic depressed Sock Puppet offered, “Dancing with the Stars is thrilling, if you ask me.”

“Well,” Doctor Sanity huffed, “I don’t recall anyone asking your brain-dead, chemically abused opinion. My sitcoms and crime dramas are floating in limbo because a bunch of whiney little idiots are greedily demanding more money! WHERE’S MY DEATH CANNON!?!?”

“No death cannons,” Sam interjected quickly. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe the writers actually have a valid point, and deserve to be paid more for their work. Maybe they deserve to be paid better. I kind of think the writers are doing the right thing, standing up to the studios.”

“All I want to know is, who do I have to kill to get new episodes of my shows back on the air,” Doctor Sanity asked in a voice crazy enough to make you certain that he was serious.

Goblin, the most violent and animalistic of all the Sock Puppets, sat there on the couch, making occasional grunting sounds. A fanatic television addict, he didn’t appear to give an ounce of care to the conversation. There were amusing little images flashing in front of him and that’s all that he cared about.

And then the lights and all of the electrical power went out.

“The Apocalypse is upon us,” Lost Cause screamed in a panicked voice. The entire house was pitch black, with none of the Puppets or Sam being able to see anyone else. It didn’t take long for very bad things to begin to happen.

“Alright,” Sam said calmly, “Everyone stay calm. I’m sure the power will be back on in a minute or two. Is everyone calm,” he asked, hopingly.

Goblin let out an unholy roar the shook the windows in the house. With a thud, he could be heard jumping off the couch. The sound of splintering wood, breaking glass, and large, heavy things being tossed around filled the house as he rampaged.

“I think Goblin is a bit upset about the television going dark,” Sam said, stating the obvious. “This will probably end horribly, I’m guessing.”

“How fucking hard is it to keep electrical power flowing to a house,” Doctor Sanity exploded. “Humans can, supposedly, land a man on the moon and clone animals but keeping the lights turned on to a friggin’ house is too much for them? I’m going to kill something.”

“Sit down, Doctor,” Sam ordered sternly. “Goblin, goddamn you, calm down and get back on the couch.”

A blood curdling, ear ringing roar was Goblin’s response. Clearly, he was in no mood to listed to reason. Or anything else, for that matter.

“Sam,” Lost Cause asked in a worried voice, “Do you think the Writers’ Guild did this to us?”

“No, LC,” Sam answered in a soothing voice, “I really don’t think so.”

“Oh, what the fuck do you know, meat sack,” Doctor Sanity blurted out, “If those terrorists have the power to hold our television programming hostage, do you really think they can’t do something as simple as knock our power out. Fortunately, my Death Cannon is powered by nuclear power. And sheep blood.”

“Shut up, Doc,” Bob interjected. “We need some lights. Where are the flashlights?”

“I think there’s one in the kitchen, somewhere,” Sam answered. “The trick will be finding it in the dark. And not getting mauled or eaten by Goblin in the process.”

Without warning, Goblin, who had been heard in another room breaking things, came screaming past the couch. Before any of the Puppets or Sam could say or do anything in response, Goblin had plowed straight through the front door. And just like that, he was gone.

For several seconds, there was complete silence. Then, finally, Sam spoke up. “Please, please, please tell me Goblin did not just bust through the door and is now outside. With people.”

“I could tell you that,” Bob said, “But it won’t do much for the fact that Goblin really is outside. He’s gone rouge.”

“Maybe he’s just out in the front yard,” Lost Cause offered. That hope was dashed when, through the hole in the front door, a high pitched man scream could be heard from coming from down the street.

“FUCK,” Sam screamed. “We have to go get him. There’s no telling what Goblin will do out there. Fuck. He’ll probably eat half the town. I hate my life.”

“Doc,” Bob said, “Do you have anything in your lab that can help us catch Goblin?”

“I have some napalm rat traps, a rail gun, some highly nasty German porn, and an Easy Bake Oven that I modified and re-programmed to kill Paris Hilton. But, no, nothing that can catch, or even slow down, Goblin. I don’t think such a weapon exists,” he answered.

“Fuck,” Sam said again, “We’re going to have to go get him. Weapons or no weapons. We just can’t let him run around out there. C’mon.”

Sam stood up and made his way over to the ruined front door. Bob, Lost Cause, and Doctor Sanity stood at his feet. Sam took a long, deep breath and then slowly let it out. “Are you guys ready to go after the most perfect killing machine on Earth,” he asked to all of them.

“Are we really going outside,” Lost Cause asked nervously, “We’re going to go out into the town?”

“I don’t think Sam has a choice,” Bob answered.

Sam let out another long sigh. “I don’t stand a chance at catching Goblin on my own. If he’s going to be brought back to the house, I need your help. All of you. And, no, I’m not thrilled about it. Not even a little bit.”

Sam opened what was left of the front door and he and the three Puppets made their way outside. The entire street was blacked out. No lights were on anywhere, with candles and flashlights flickering through a few windows.

“Damn those writers,” Doctor Sanity blurted out in anger. “They took down the whole street!”

“Shut up, Sanity,” Sam said in a huff. “The only thing we focus on now is finding and catching Goblin. The sooner the better. Let’s go.”

As Sam and the Puppets made their way down the street, Lost Cause looked up at Sam. “Do you think all of this will end well,” he asked in a voice that was laced with worry and fear.

Sam’s response was blunt and dry, “No, Lost Cause. I really don’t think it will.”

The Night the Squirrels Died

Posted in Puppet Stories with tags , , , , , , , , , , on November 28, 2007 by Dan Cheek

The Night the Squirrels Died
By Dan Cheek
28 November 2007
© 2007 Dan Cheek

The Night the Squirrels Died...

For once, Sam’s house was quiet. It was the middle of the night and everyone, including all of the Puppets, was asleep. This was a rare event. Normally, at least one of the Puppets would be awake, either watching television, or fixing a late night meal, or blowing something/someone up with insane amounts of explosives. At any rate, tonight everything was quiet.

Sam, as usual, slept in his room with his bedroom door locked. He knew that if the Puppets really wanted to, it would be all to easy for one or all of them to open the door and wake him up, sending him even further down the road of insanity that he had been traveling since they moved in with him. And they woke him up a lot, usually to confess to him their latest atrocity. Still, it provided him with just enough piece of mind that he was able to drift to sleep.

It was two seventeen in the morning when the sirens began going off. From all over the house, loud electronic alarms began echoing. Sam jumped awake, not quite knowing what was happening. The noise was so loud and so constant that he couldn’t form clear thoughts. The thoughts he could form involved him murdering all four of the Puppets who lived with him. Those thoughts were still ripping through his mind when he made his way out into the hallway.

Bob, the unofficial leader of the Sock Puppets from Hell was standing there to meet Sam. Sam thought briefly about kicking Bob through the wall, but decided against it. “What in the holy fuck is that noise,” he screamed at Bob.

Bob gave a little shrug and replied, “Not a clue. It’s kind of loud though, eh?” Sam decided that he did indeed want to kick Bob through the wall and was preparing to make an attempt at it when Lost Cause and Goblin came flying around the corner.

Goblin, a raging beast of a Sock Puppet, was trembling with anger and foaming at the mouth. Clearly, the combination of the loud noise and being woken up in the middle of the night had sent him into a tizzy. Sam allowed himself a smile as he imagined Goblin eating the other three Puppets. The smile disappeared when Sam realized that should things come down to that, Sam would probably be the next item on Goblin’s menu.

“Sam,” Lost Cause, the manically depressed Sock Puppet said in a pleading voice, “Could you please turn that alarm clock off? The noise is making me suicidal.”

Sam looked down at Lost Cause is disgust. “I don’t think that noise is an alarm clock, LC. It sounds more like a god damned air raid siren. In my house. Feel free to kill yourself at any time, though.”

“Actually,” a mister-know-it-all voice interrupted, “It’s not an air raid siren. It’s a squirrel alarm.” The voice belonged to Doctor Sanity, resident scientific mastermind and the fourth member of the Sock Puppets from Hell. “And it’s going off because we’re under attack.”

Sam, Bob, Lost Cause, and Goblin all stood there, with blank stares on their faces, as they tried to digest that. Finally, Sam broke the silence and asked, “Under attack by who?”

“Squirrels,” Doc Sanity shouted in response. “The god damned squirrels are launching an offensive against us at this very moment! And if we just stand around here, we’ll all be dead in minutes! We must defend ourselves! To the lab!”

With that, he turned and took off running. He quickly made his way up the stairs which led to the attic, where his lab of horrors was located. Lost Cause, in a panic, was rushing along with him. Sam and Bob watched them zip away and then they looked at each other. “We should probably either join them or stop them,” Bob finally said.

“Damnit,” Sam sighed as he and Bob took off in a sprint, trying to catch up to Doctor Sanity and Lost Cause. They made it to the top of the attic stairs just in time to have a thick, incredibly solid metal blast door slam in their faces. “When the hell did that crazy bastard install this,” Sam asked.

“I suppose that’s what all the hammering and sawing and screaming was about a few weeks ago. And here I thought he was just milking a cow,” Bob answered. Sam thought about asking why any of those sounds could be associated with milking a cow, but then decided against it. He did his best, despite the blaring sound of an air raid siren going off in his house, to focus on the task at hand. He needed to get in that lab and stop Sanity from doing whatever it is he was about to do.

“Battle stations,” Doctor Sanity’s voice rang out across a loud speaker. The sound of the air raid sirens had stopped, but now all of the lights in the second floor hallway were blinking on and off.

“Open this fucking door,” Sam yelled back, as he beat his fists against it. Each slamming of his hand was met with a dull, hopeless sounding clank. It was as if he were attacking it with a feather. “Sanity,” he screamed again, “I said open this fucking door!”

“I heard you the first time,” Sanity’s voice rang out from the loud speakers again, “But I’m afraid I can’t open the door, Sam. We’re currently in a Defcon-Four, honest to God, no bullshit, Class One squirrel alert. According to the regulations, this door can not be opened up until, and not before, the threat has been neutralized.”

Sam dropped his head and rubbed his forehead. He squinted his eyes, looking for all the world as if he were trying to keep his brain from leaking out of his eye sockets. For a moment, Bob thought it might actually happen. “Shall I fetch the welding torch, Sam,” Bob finally asked, after he had given hope of seeing Sam’s brain leak out of his eyes.

“We have a welding torch,” Sam asked surprised, “I didn’t know we had a welding torch.”

“We have lots and lots of things you don’t know about. Follow me.” With that, Sam and Bob took off down the attic stairs, down the second floor hallway past the master bedroom and the guest rooms, and then finally down the stairs to the main floor of the house.

Goblin, still standing at the bottom of the attic stairs, let out a slow, long sigh and then made his way down the stairs to the first floor. Not to help Sam and Bob with their little mission, but rather, to see what was on the Discovery Channel.

Up in the lab, Doc Sanity rushed around, constantly checking flashing monitors, pressing random buttons, and pulling and pushing levers. Lost Cause, not sure what else to do, stood in a corner of the lab, watching Sanity whisk around. “Um,” he finally asked nervously, “How’s it going, Doc?”

Sanity came to a stop and looked over at Lost Cause, who was standing there in a corner, mindlessly watching him rush around as he was doing his best to defend himself and everyone else in the house from an attacking squirrel army. “We’ll be lucky to survive the night. There are a lot of those sick little bastards out there and there first wave is about to hit our main defenses. See?” He nodded over to a monitor that was flickering, filled with static. Every now and then it would blink off for a few seconds and then jot back to life. A sick buzzing could be heard coming from it.

“Doc,” Lost Cause asked cautiously, “Do you remember that time that you ran around the house, throwing grenades out the windows because you said there were ninjas trying to sneak in? And then it turned out there were no ninjas. It was just the guy from the electric company checking the meter. Remember that?”

Doctor Sanity stood there, looking at Lost Cause look back nervously at him. “I fail to see your point, Lost Cause. First off, that ‘guy from the electric company’ was a very well known ninja assassin. Had I not blown him into little bits of dust, everyone would have realized that. And all of the other ninjas who were with him obviously took off running after they watched me vaporize their leader.”

Lost Cause stood their and pondered that for a second. Finally, he looked up at Sanity and smiled. “Well, Doctor, if you say so.”

Doc Sanity nodded back at Lost Cause. “Now hold on to your nuts, LC, I’m about to show these squirrels the full fury of this battle station.”

Lost Cause’s eyes widened. “Um, battle station?” Doctor Sanity couldn’t hear Lost Cause, however. He was too busy running around, pressing buttons and giggling to himself.

Downstairs, Bob and Sam were rooting through a closet in the hallway. “I know it’s here somewhere,” Bob said as he tossed another boot out of the closet, narrowly missing Sam’s head.

“Incoming,” Doctor Sanity’s voice boomed from one of the hidden loudspeakers. With that, the sound of heavy machine gun fire could be heard erupting from outside. The whole house shook and vibrated as a whole arsenal of heavy weaponry exploded into action just outside. Bright red, yellow, and white lights flashed through the windows, indicating the muzzle flashes of the weapons. World War Three was kicking off in Sam’s backyard.

“Fuck,” Sam yelled as he threw himself to the floor, ducking for cover behind a sofa. “What the hell is going on?”

Bob came running up alongside of Sam. “Sounds like Doctor Sanity is taking this whole ‘squirrel invasion’ thing very seriously. Hopefully, the squirrels aren’t as armed as well as he is.”

“This is insane,” Sam said as he got back to his feet. “That crazy little bastard has crossed the line. I’m going to go beat down that door and then chop him up into pillow stuffing. C’mon.” Sam grabbed a wooden baseball bat and charged up the stairs. Bob was following him, struggling to carry the welding torch, which he had just found under a pile of old Better Homes and Gardens magazines.

On the sofa in the living room, Goblin sat intently, watching some Discovery Channel special on the mating habits of blind, retarded, sex addicted sheep. It was one of those shows that was so horrible and unwatchable that the Discovery Channel people had decided to air it on American television at three in the morning, hoping no one would ever watch it, but still filling a time slot and providing something to compete with Cinemax soft porn.

Goblin giggled as the sheep ran around, fucking everything with a hole. At one point, two of the sheep began gangbanging the camera guy. The narrator, obviously sickened by what was happening, could be heard making vomiting sounds in between his description of the ordeal. Some other guy came running into help the cameraman, armed with a stick, but he ended up getting raped by the sheep, too.

A loud explosion went off just outside the house. The lights in the house flickered, with the television briefly loosing reception. Goblin let out a low growl, his eyes narrowing, as he prepared to kill someone for disrupting his show. However, after a few seconds, the lights came back on and the television spurted back to life. Goblin happily went back to watching his program while the chaos exploded all around him.

Back inside the lab, Doctor Sanity was sitting intently in front of a large bank of old computer monitors. Each were filled with all sorts of images, ranging from radar screens, thermal targeting screens, to Playboy screen savers. “We’re holding them back, LC,” he said in a proud tone, “But just barely. I knew I should have installed more flame throwers in the bushes along the side. Make a note of that, will you?”

Lost Cause, who was still sitting in a corner, intent on watching the insanity unfold around him, looked up with a worried look on his face. “Um,” he said hesitantly, “I can’t really spell all that well.”

Sanity shot a look over at him, and then turned his attention back to the monitors. “Never mind then. Come here and watch as this horrible little squirrel army impales itself on the spear that is my ingeniously conceived defensive perimeter.”

Lost Cause hopped over to stand alongside the doctor, looking up at all of the glowing, flashing images. “Impressive, isn’t it,” Sanity asked after giving Lost Cause a chance to take everything in.

“Sure,” Lost Cause answered, “Um, do you have any hotdogs or anything in here. I’m kind of hungry.”

Doctor Sanity stared at Lost Cause for a long moment. He considered thirteen different ways to kill him, ranging from vaporization to implosion. Finally, he let out a long sigh, deciding on letting the silly little moron to continue wasting space. “The battle’s almost over. You can eat when we’re done.”

Just outside the lab, Sam was feverously beating against the door with his baseball bat. Bob, wearing a pair of old, over sized sunglasses that were secured to his small face with a rubber band, was making the slightest of progress with the cutting torch.

Sam was covered in sweat, all of his veins protruding from his neck and forehead. He was sure he’d just suffered three or four aneurisms, but he didn’t really care. He continued to beat against the door for all his worth. Cracks were beginning to spider down the length of the bat, a result of it being bashed against a solid steel door. “Fucking bastard shit faced whore kill the monkey piss, ow, and all his goddamn toys Jesus Christ I fucking swear, ow, squeeze the life out of him with my bare hands,” Sam muttered to himself in between slams of the bat.

Suddenly and without warning, the massive steel door opened, sliding silently to the side. Sam, exhausted from his bat attack and small heat attacks, fell to the floor. Bob switched off his cutting torch and tossed his glasses. “Hello,” he hollered out, “Anybody home?”

Doctor Sanity came bounding out of the lab, a massive smile on his demented little face. “Cigars for everyone,” he exclaimed proudly as he passed a shrink wrapped cigar to Bob. He tossed another over to Sam, who was making gurgling noises and twitching. “We fucking won, boys!”

Bob cocked his head to one side, “Um, won what exactly?”

“The squirrel assault on us failed,” Sanity answered in a jovial voice, “What’s left of their pitiful force is in full retreat. That’ll teach’em, eh?”

Lost Cause walked out of the lab, puffing on a cigar. He stopped and looked at Sam who was now making wheezing sounds when he breathed. “What happened to him,” he asked.

Bob looked over at Sam and then back at Lost Cause. “I think he suffered a stroke of something as he was trying to beat down the door and kill you both. I imagine he’ll be better by tomorrow. I’m going back to bed.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Lost Cause said in agreement as he trotted after Bob. Doctor Sanity, deciding against sticking around and waiting for Sam to regain consciousness, joined his two fellow sock puppets.

Downstairs, Goblin was sitting on the couch, howling with laughter as three sheep tried feverishly to impregnate an ice cream truck. The narrator, who had by now slipped into shock, could be heard weeping and pleading for someone to come and shoot him in the head.

 

Outside, the bodies of over fifty squirrels, or what was left of their bodies, covered the backyard. No one would ever be sure as to whether this was, indeed, a failed squirrel offensive, or just another one of Doctor Sanity’s warped delusions gone horribly too far. However, no one would ever forget the night that the squirrels died.