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Date Posted: 23:21:22 01/17/00 Mon
Author: HellHarpoon-OSH
Subject: [NSSWOTA] IN THE HALL OF THE OSH (Or: Disorder in the Order) Part 1 [PG13]

(A short cast list: HellHarpoon (me) is the leader of OSH. Evul'Hawk is the second-in-command. DeathFyre is a random member. Boris is the SH ambassador to OSH and Drake is the acting assoc--well, you'll see later. And in this corner: CEO, HP, and GFraizer, who are the same as in Phule's story.)

In the Hall of the OSH
(Or: Disorder in the Order)
By Chris Troute (HellHarpoon-OSH)

PART 1


[HellHarpoon's office. HellHarpoon walks in the door and finds Evul'Hawk at his desk.]

Evul'Hawk: (standing at attention) Hail, illustrious leader!

HellHarpoon: (staring blankly) Huh?

Evul'Hawk: Hail, illustrious leader!

HellHarpoon: Eh?

Evul'Hawk: Hi.

HellHarpoon: Oh, hello. Didn't see you come in.

Evul'Hawk: That's because I was here. You came in.

HellHarpoon: Don't give me that! (suspiciously) What are you doing here so early?

Evul'Hawk: It's eleven-thirty in the morning, sir.

HellHarpoon: Yeah, and you know OSH policy. Appendix B, section 274, sub-section Q, paragraph XXXII, sub- paragraph -3, sub-sub-paragraph Arthur.

Evul'Hawk: Um..."Any member reporting for duty prior to 1:00 PM, with the exception of the commanding officer, is to be shot," right?

HellHarpoon: That's the bunny. (thinks) "Except for the commanding officer..." Do we have a commanding officer?

Evul'Hawk: Yes, sir. You're the commanding officer.

HellHarpoon: Am I? What a remarkable thing. (pause) So, uh, what do these 'commanding officers' do?

Evul'Hawk: They mainly make decisions.

HellHarpoon: Ahh, yes. But what's a decision?

Evul'Hawk: It's something commanding officers do.

HellHarpoon: Sounds fun. Okay then, I'll make a decision.

(A series of thuds and screams are heard all over the building. A few bodies fall past HellHarpoon's window.)

HellHarpoon: What was that?

Evul'Hawk: It sounded like half the guild having a heart attack.

HellHarpoon: Why?

Evul'Hawk: ...Perhaps something they ate didn't agree with them, sir.

HellHarpoon: Of course. Evul'Hawk, take a decision.

(Evul'Hawk gets out a notepad that has never been used.)

HellHarpoon: By order of the Commanding Officer of the OSH, something is rotten in the state of Denmark, it's ten o'clock and all is well, and the cafeteria food tastes like shit. Send this out right away, Evul'Hawk.

Evul'Hawk: (crumpling up the paper behind his back and tossing it into a garbage can) It's out, sir. Very out.

HellHarpoon: Terrific! Okay, what's on my calendar for today?

Evul'Hawk: A doodle you did yesterday during the meeting when you were bored. There are some words underneath, but I can't make them out.

HellHarpoon: If I doodled over it, it couldn't be important.

Evul'Hawk: Whatever you say, sir. So I should ignore all the stars around it, thick letters, underlining, "DO NOT FORGET THIS" notice, and exclamation points.

HellHarpoon: Right.

(A buzzer sounds.)

HellHarpoon: (looking at his phone) What do I press to answer it?

Evul'Hawk: That was the door.

HellHarpoon: Line four? There are only three. Would it be okay if I pressed two twice, really fast, so the phone would think I pressed four?

(Evul'Hawk sighs and leaves the room, returning shortly.)

HellHarpoon: Well?

Evul'Hawk: Wrong number.

HellHarpoon: Figures. (claps his hands) Okay, it's a lovely Monday morning--

Evul'Hawk: Tuesday afternoon.

HellHarpoon: Whatever. There's work to be done, what's up first?

Evul'Hawk: No, who's up first. What's up second.

HellHarpoon: What have I told you about watching Abbott and Costello movies?

Evul'Hawk: That I should do it as often as possible.

HellHarpoon: Oh, yeah.

(A buzzer sounds again, Evul'Hawk leaves and comes back in with Drake following him, who is clutching a stuffed monkey with a pink stain on its chest.)

Evul'Hawk: Boris, the Safe Haven ambassador, and Drake, the acting associate lieutenant assistant vice under-deputy ambassador (junior grade), to see you, sir.

HellHarpoon: Okay, send them in.

Evul'Hawk: But they are in.

HellHarpoon: (irritatedly) Don't make excuses, just send them in!

Evul'Hawk: Right...yes, sir.

(Evul'Hawk leaves. HellHarpoon turns to Drake, who is boxing with HellHarpoon's inflatable kangaroo.)

HellHarpoon: Stop that.

(Drake ignores HellHarpoon and continues to box. HellHarpoon goes over to his desk and presses a blue button causing the kangaroo's fists to come loose and knock Drake to the floor.)

Drake: You bastard!

(Drake leaps onto the kangaroo and starts tearing it to shreds with his teeth. HellHarpoon turns to Boris.)

HellHarpoon: So what's up?

Boris: ...

HellHarpoon: What?

Boris: ...

HellHarpoon: I'm sorry, I don't understand.

Boris: •••!

HellHarpoon: Drake, what the hell is he saying?

Drake: Sounded like "..." to me.

HellHarpoon: So what does that mean?

Drake: (shrugs) How should I know? Here, use this. (tosses a book to HellHarpoon and goes back to decapitating the kangaroo)

HellHarpoon: (looking at book) "... (Borese to HellHarpoonish Dictionary)"

Boris: ...

HellHarpoon: "O Great and Powerful Wizard of the Flying Fishsticks, I want to tie you up and..." (blushes) Oh my.

Boris: ...!

HellHarpoon: Err... "How well is going our plan to make lily blossoms...shave amusing underpants...assassinate leaders of killers of players?" Oh, it's going just fine. So far six of their leaders have succumbed to our special, heh, hospitality.

Boris: ...?

HellHarpoon: Yes, hospitality, we pretend to be traveling salesmen--

Boris: ...?

HellHarpoon: Red-hot barbed disemboweling daggers, gauntlets that eject spikes when you shake their hand, the usual PK gadgetry. Anyway, we invite them into our tent or whatever, make them real comfortable like, then we slip them our special drink that is composed of equal amounts of poison and antidote. (looks very pleased with himself)

Boris: ...?!

HellHarpoon: Well we have to give the antidote to protect our guys in case they drink it too. We can't expect all the members to be as bright as me, you know.

Boris: ...

HellHarpoon: Um...(consults book) "Your behind is wagered that they are not. What poisons are used?" Well, uh, we use this. (tosses an aerosol can across the desk)

Drake: (looking at the can) Spray paint? What antidote is there for that?

HellHarpoon: Why, paint thinner, of course. Everyone knows that.

Boris: ...

HellHarpoons: "Which killers-of-players leaders have you and your..." Hmm, that word doesn't seem to be in here... "men killed by some amazing caress...masturb"--oh, "stroke of luck?" Well, so far there's Krager[LoE] of the Lords of Eeeeevil, VBB-NaughtyPrsn of the Very Bad Boys, GGGG! of the Slightly Demented But Kind Of Nice Once You Get To Know Us Clan--

Boris: ...

HellHarpoon: "A doubling agent he was for ordered of shiny spears." (thinks) Damnit, not again! That's the fifth one this month. Ah...PlagueRat(PFWD) of the Poofwads...that's how we pronounce PFWD. OSH intelligence says it stands for Pretty Fair Window-Dressers. Except for that one smart-aleck who keeps mentioning something about the apocalypse. If he doesn't shut up, I'll apocalypse him! Uh...(checks notebook) Plip-Narf of the Mad Bogeymen--

Boris: ...

HellHarpoon: "He has been for six weeks a rubber pencil...an unusual odor...dead?" No wonder it was so easy. And there was one more whom we didn't kill but just roughed up some. We got quite a lot of information from him. Eluhprm-SH of the, uh...Killallthegoodguysexceptsafehaven Guild.

Boris: ...!!!

HellHarpoon: (defensively) Well how was I supposed to know? It's not like he wore a sign around his neck saying "Leave me alone, I'm a member of SH!" Besides, you should have seen how his mouth started watering when we showed him our fifty-thousand-volt joy buzzers. In any case, he's not dead. He'll be just fine as soon as Sla@yer sets his arms and legs, and gets all the fruit residue out of the hole in his head.

Boris: ...?

HellHarpoon: We, uh, accidentally went a bit high with the jackhammer. We tried to repair the hole with tangerines, but we forgot that you use tangerines for belly wounds, and limes for head wounds.

Boris: ...?

HellHarpoon: Well no, he isn't a doctor, but he's seen them on TV. And he has a medical book. Give him another day or two and he'll get it right, wait and see.

Boris: ...

HellHarpoon: Uh...(flips pages) Drake, that one's not in the book at all. What does it mean?

Drake: (tossing away the few shreds that remain of the kangaroo) It means "Step over here so I can defenestrate you."

HellHarpoon: (slaps Boris in the face) You deviated prevert! If you say that word to me again, I'll throw you out the window.

(DeathFyre bursts in, looking around frantically)

DeathFyre: OhmygodI'mscrewedyougottahidemeHELP!!!!! (hides under HellHarpoon's desk)

HellHarpoon: Slow down!

DeathFyre: OooohhhhmmmmyyyyggggooooddddIIII''''mmmmssssccccrrrreeeewwwweeeeddddyyyyoooouuuuggggoooottttaaaahhhhiiiiddddeeeemmmmeeeeHHHHEEEELLLLPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Drake: What happened?

DeathFyre: IIII wwwwaaaassss aaaat--

HellHarpoon: Stop that.

DeathFyre: Sorry. I was at a party in Fourth Battalion's barracks, when this gibbering maniac started following me and wouldn't leave me alone. So I used that mace you told me to start carrying. Well it turns out he was the chief of the Dragons of Light Anti-PK Alliance, and we're kind of at war with them now.

HellHarpoon: Why are they making a big deal over a little pepper spray?

DeathFyre: Pepper spray?

HellHarpoon: Mace. It's a kind of pepper spray.

DeathFyre: Oops...I wish you'd told me that earlier.

Drake: What did you use, then?

(DeathFyre looks around sheepishly and pulls a two-foot studded club out of his bag)

HellHarpoon: (sighs) Just what we need...hold it, hold it, what do you mean we're kind of at war with them?

DeathFyre: Well, uh, he was kind of incoherent when he issued the proclamation. Here. (hands a sheet of paper to HellHarpoon)

HellHarpoon: (reading) "By order of Gerondagen[DOL], Dragon Highlord of the Dragons of Light. Narf. The many, many tuxedoed monsters that live inside my head. I had a goldfish once. His name was Blinky. He had six eyes...The Dragons of Light hereby declare that a state of waDELIRIUM, EUPHORIA, AND SWELLNESS exists with the Order of the Shining Harpoon. What was I saying? Squirrels taste good with Worcestershire sauce. Oh hello Gus. What are you doing here...put that down! Help! RUN AWAY BLINKY! SAVE YOURSELF! AAAAAAAAAAA" and it breaks off. Well this is just dandy. I don't suppose you have any other wonderful news for us today?

DeathFyre: I have more news, but it's not wonderful. Rather bad, actually.

HellHarpoon: Oh, okay. Go ahead then.

DeathFyre: Well, about that time Lancegar[DOL] -- he's the head of their armed forces -- came up and raised trouble, so I had to, uhh...mace him too.

HellHarpoon: How was he raising trouble?

DeathFyre: He was carrying a resurrect scroll.

HellHarpoon: Ahh.

(Evul'Hawk bursts in.)

Evul'Hawk: Sir, the DOL army is camped right outside our gates!!

HellHarpoon: A campout, eh? Send someone down and ask if it would be okay for us to join them.

Evul'Hawk: Damnit sir, it's a war party!!

HellHarpoon: A war party? I've been to bachelor parties, birthday parties, Christmas parties, farewell parties, housewarming parties, and it took ten days to repair the damage after the guild millennium party, but I can't say I've heard of a war party. Actually I can, but I'd be lying. It sounds interesting, though. I wonder if you're supposed to attend wearing armor...

Evul'Hawk: (leaning into HellHarpoon's face and speaking slowly) The Dragons of Light are here to invade us and they will probably start their attack before the day's over.

HellHarpoon: Invade?! After they declared "waDELIRIUM, EUPHORIA, AND SWELLNESS" on us? Those naughty people. Okay, uh...this is when I do one of those decision things, right?

Evul'Hawk: That's customary, yes.

HellHarpoon: Okay, umm...deploy an attack penguin battalion to slice at their flanks, another to dice at their front lines, and one more to puree around their field headquarters. And set up the mortars just inside the guild walls to bombard their formations. But instead of shells, use big snowballs.

Evul'Hawk: Why, sir?

HellHarpoon: It's this terrific idea I got--

Evul'Hawk: One moment, sir.

(Evul'Hawk goes to a wall-mounted box reading "IF HELLHARPOON GETS AN IDEA, BREAK GLASS." Evul'Hawk breaks the glass and removes an airsick bag from the box.)

Evul'Hawk: Go ahead.

HellHarpoon: As I was saying...have you ever gotten snow in your shirt? Well, if we use snowballs instead of regulation shells, all the shrapnel will be snow, which will be magnetically attracted to the enemy's shirt collars, thus incapacitating them and making way for our attack penguin battalions. So, what do you think?

Evul'Hawk: (uses airsick bag) A terrific (uses airsick bag) idea, sir. (uses airsick bag twice)

Boris: ...

Evul'Hawk and DeathFyre: What?

HellHarpoon: He says he saw our attack penguins on...a fleet of Greyhound buses heading south on I-5? Where were they going?

Boris: ...

HellHarpoon: Reno? I didn't even know they knew how to gamble. Okay, looks like we can't use the penguins. Assemble the men in the courtyard, you know how rough Fourth's parties get. We'll make a direct assault ourselves!

Boris: ...?

HellHarpoon: I don't know. Evul'Hawk, how big is the DOL army?

Evul'Hawk: About eighteen thousand men, sir.

HellHarpoon: And ours?

Evul'Hawk: Six hundred twenty, sir.

HellHarpoon: Thanks. (to Boris) You see, they only outnumber us, uh...

Evul'Hawk: Twenty-nine to one.

HellHarpoon: Yeah, twenty-nine to one. Piece of cake.

(HellHarpoon goes to a closet and puts on his war gear, which consists of a pot-shaped helmet, a shimmering harpoon, a number of grenades, an infantry assault rifle, fifteen hundred rounds of ammunition, six daggers, a long sword, a hari-kiri dagger, a small bag of water-diluted caffeine taken intravenously, spiked brass knuckles, a whip, a pocket copy of 'Robert's Rules of Guerrilla Warfare,' and contact lenses that make one's eyes look bloodshot.)

HellHarpoon: Well, what are you standing around for? Let's go have some fun!

(HellHarpoon dashes out of the office. Evul'Hawk, DeathFyre, Drake, and Boris look out the window and see him run headlong into the DOL army firing wildly, lobbing grenades, and occasionally dismembering an enemy officer. After trying to kill him a few hundred times, the DOL army hastily retreats. HellHarpoon reenters the office with his shirt hanging in shreds from his shoulders and many various wounds to his torso and extremities.

HellHarpoon: Now that's what I call a war. (tosses the remains of his gear into the hallway. It goes off, destroying the office across the hall.) So, Drake, was there anything else you and your pet monkey wanted?

Boris: ...

HellHarpoon: "Tuxedoed birds of shiny spear wanted for theft of two devils, illegitimate son of a female dog?"

Drake: Err, we came to ask if we could get your help in stealing Diablo II. See, they announced another delay a few days ago which will set back the release time at least four months. We've decided to do something about it, but we need your attack penguin battalions if we're going to pull it off.

HellHarpoon: Ahh, yes. (leans back in his chair and folds his hands together in the universal 'Ahh, yes' position) So...what would be in it for me?

Drake: Well, you would get to share initial dominance of the Diablo II world with us...

HellHarpoon: Go on...

Drake: Uh, you'd be among the first to be able to "harvest," heh heh, the PK ears...

HellHarpoon: I'm listening...

Drake: And, uh...(plaintively) Boris, can you help me out here?

Boris: ...!

(Drake and Boris go into a whispered conference)

Drake: Are you out of your mind? We can't give him that! It's two thousand years old, it's almost priceless!

Boris: ...

Drake: Well, I know, but Em'd sooner die than give up his Spatulae Romanus!

Boris: ...!

Drake: I meant that figuratively. Come on, Boris, there has to be something else you'll offer. Damnit, we need those penguins or we won't stand a chance, and in order to get the penguins we have to get him (looks at HellHarpoon, who is contentedly entertaining a kitten with a piece of string) to help us.

Boris: (sulking) ...

Drake: We don't have the inter-guild Starbucks concession anymore, remember? We sold it so they'd let us put a Starbucks in the men's room.

Boris: ...?

Drake: Yes, yes, we can give him that. (turns to HellHarpoon) And a soda machine in your office.

HellHarpoon: (stands up enthusiastically and shakes Boris's hand) You've got yourself a deal, my simian friend!

(A voice inside HellHarpoon's head exults: "And done!")

HellHarpoon: Get out of my head!

Voice: Be nice.

[Blizzard Headquarters, Irvine, CA. The CEO, GFraizer (head of public relations), and Head Programmer (HP) of the Diablo II Project are meeting in the CEO's office. A group of toadies is at a far table doing some work.]

CEO: So what's our completion level on Diablo II so far, Heap?

HP: Please don't call me that, sir.

CEO: A VP is a veep and a GP is a jeep, which makes you a heap -- in more ways than one in this case. Now answer my question, Heap.

HP: We're 100% finished with the game and ready to ship. So far we've managed to delay the game for...approximately sixteen months, sir. And we've just announced another delay, which will buy us...four more months, sir.

CEO: Very good. Fraizer, how is the gaming population reacting?

GFraizer: So far, just the normal minor uproar, hate mail, bomb threats, that sort of thing. There has been an alliance announced between two gaming organizations, called (checks clipboard) the Safe Haven and the Order of the Shining Harpoon, sir.

CEO: Haven't I heard of this harpoon one before? Isn't their leader that maniac FireSpear?

GFraizer: Actually, it's HellHarpoon, but you're basically right, sir. He's an ignoramus, totally mad, and incredibly dangerous. Our intelligence sources tell us that their guild strength is approximately six hundred, and he controls an attack penguin army of...approximately eight thousand, sir.

CEO: And Safe Haven?

GFraizer: They're a constant nuisance. They used to be led by an idiot called Drake, who spearheaded their assault early last year to steal StarCraft, which had long since been released. We believe he was just a mouthpiece for a "power behind the throne," if you will, a stuffed monkey by the name of Boris. (checks clipboard) Boris has since retired and taken ambassadorship to OSH, with Drake in some subservient post, SH is currently led by Phule.

CEO: Big deal, they were before!

HP: That's his name, sir. P-h-u-l-e.

GFraizer: Anyway, OSH and Safe Haven seem to be planning some kind of joint assault. We're not entirely sure what, sir.

CEO: Do you have a spy in OSH or something?

GFraizer: Yes, sir. His name is Spanks, we planted him in OSH in the beginning of May, 1998. We started him out in the security service, and he's now a Harpoon Captain -- that's like a junior vice president, sir -- in charge of security and intelligence.

CEO: Haven't they been suspicious? I mean, if he's not really a member, they're going to notice that he's...oh, competent for one?

GFraizer: We worked around that, sir. He's under orders to act as idiotic and fuddled as possible. That's how he got promoted so high in the first place.

(A gong sounds over the loudspeakers. GFraizer, HP, and the toadies genuflect and intone "Praise be to the CEO, Overlord and God over all Blizzard" and return to normal.)

CEO: Right. We'd better dispatch a platoon or two of Flenser Drones for perimeter security, and step everything up to Threat Condition Alpha.

HP: (coughs nervously) Actually, sir, Safe Haven has created ten Flenser Drones itself.

CEO: TEN goddamned Flensers?! That's a small army all by itself! How the hell did this happen?!

GFraizer: One of our downsizees who worked in security was bribed into working for them. Name of...Omnivich, I think.

HP: Oh he wasn't downsized. He was fired a few months ago for spending too much time in the Starbucks booth in the custodian's area. After he left, the spare copies of the Flenser plans were gone...as well as the recipe file in the Starbucks master control room on the third floor.

(A messenger enters the room and briefly genuflects before the CEO's desk.)

Messenger: Praise be to the CEO. (hands a paper to the CEO) Message from Public Relations, sir. (genuflects again and leaves.)

GFraizer: What is it?

CEO: HP, alert your men. "Set Threat Condition Alpha. Player coalition forces departing bases in SH, OSH territory" as of two hours ago. It's started, gentlemen.

TO BE CONTINUED . . .


--
HellHarpoon

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