In Sally's last appearance: Sally's feet were bloody and raw after having danced to so much techno. Then...suddenly, it stopped. And then she knew...that st
And now, the stunning conclusion to that sentence!: range yet, familiar sound that had always brought fear and loathing to the pit of her stomach, the abyss of her pancreas, the chasm of her large intestine, and the indentation of her gall bladder. It was the noise of two legs rapping hard and loud, yet nonetheless efficiently on the door, of the four other legs tapping impatiently on the threshhold, of the rustle of eager wings restrained only by the force of their owners, and of a soft but menacing buzzing that continued to grow from from ambience to a room-filling racket: it was the Apisia, the secret branch of the Hive that functioned as both the secret policy and a paramilitary organization, with the ability to act with utter silence or to overthrow the government of some sovereign nations, armed with the best technology the Hive could produce. They were a force to be reckoned with.
"God," though Sally, "The Apisia are on Earth. And attacking the world's greatest techno club. Even they wouldn't do something like that without the consent of some higher power. God, have the bees taken over earth already." She began scanning the club for other exits but stopped herself. "No. They've probably got all the exits covered by now. They never go into action with less than 25 bees. The only way to escape will be to walk out of here. Or die trying. But am I over-reacting? Maybe I’m not the reason they’re here." But she was, for only 3 days previously the KGB (The Kommittee for Great Bees as the hive’s espionage ministry so modestly called itself) had finally managed to figure out where Sally had gone after the queen had released the Gnoztar. Because of some extra-dimensional, non-euclidean force (not to name names, but it was probably lord azeroth) Sally had gone to the realm of the personification of Rumor, bearer of things done and not done, and had learned of many things, true and not true, after which she had gone to a techno club on earth.
The owner of the club, dressed in comically-dressed techno fashion, break-danced his way to the door, all the while mananing to keep his sun-glasses attached to his head. Opening a small slot in the door, he spoke haughtily: “May I ask what you are doing here at ‘The Matrix’?” he asked, not waiting for a reply, “I mean, you do know who I am. Hansfurth von Furthington the III, the man who devoted all the money made from his family’s noble status in Hungary and centuries of hardship and strife into creating a dance club. Well? Are you just going to buzz at me?” He laughed quite euro-trashily and closed the slot in the door. With his back to the door he addressed the people in the club, “Nothing to worry about peoples. I don’t even know why those bees were here in the first place. Everyone know they can’t dance!” He laughed again, and the tension in the room seemed to be broken as a few awkward laughs emanated from various corners of the room.
Hansfurth raised his hands. “Fritz, start up the musi-aughhadioeho;kdl1!” the door came off its hinges and went flying towards him, crushing his legs. A bee dressed all in black stepped through the vacant hole and onto the door pinning Hansfurth, who tried to scream, but just whimpered.
“We shall have no more of your despicable human merry-making today.” He applied more pressure to the door, clearly relishing the power he held over the squirming vertabrate. “I do not find it pleasing to speak in your effiminate tongue, so I shall make myself short and clear. You are harboring a fugitive, one Sally, who has committed many atrocities against Earth Government and its friend and comrade the People’s Government of CrungJucnortOnïtó. If you do not hand her over immediately, I shall be forced to dispose of this...waste,” he said pointing a stinger gun at Hansfurth’s head.
Sally tried to move but she couldn’t at first. She had seen that face before, somehow she knew that bee. Finally, she unfroze herself and ran into the middle of the club. “Dont kill that man! I am Sally, you can take me, just don’t kill that man,” she spilled out.
“Too late,” said the bee as he pulled the trigger. The whole club gasped in horrified terror, but by that time the bee had already turned around to face his bees. “Deploy the gas!” he shouted, and turned back around to face Sally. She tried to step back, but her feet were unresponsive, and she fell. “No!” she thought. The honey gas was making her weak, and right now she needed all the strength she could get. The bee began walking towards her. “Who is that bee?” she wondered, petrified, but she was already beginning to lose consciousness, and the hallucinations were already dancing around her peripheral vision. She could even see a dancing octopus. The bee was getting closer. She tried to crawl, but her arms had gone limp. Now he was standing right above her. “Finally, I have you, Sally.” He smile a horrible grimace, and Sally gasped. That was the bee who had killed her husband, Cal, before she herself had died and gone back in time. But that was in the future? How could he be in the past and still know who she was. But with that thought she collapsed, and the octopus began to waltz.
The Soviet-Beetle-Internal-Revolution-Affairs-Committee-Against-The-Invasion-of-the-Bees-Committee, retitled the Free Earth Multiplanetary Army, or FEMA, had been raiding the Earth Government Farmlands in Mongolia, and training its army in the deep cold of Siberia. Things were harder for the FEMA than it had ever been: it was cold, it was dark, and due to the fact that Siberia had a time zone all to itself outside of the realms of human reasoning, all the primetime shows were on during bugle practice. The days had run on into weeks without end, like an accordian stuffed with too many walnuts, the sheer brute force of monotony that only 13 million square kilometers of snow can achieve. Sure there had been some raids on Earth Government property and assets, and the FEMA had incorporated some new members into its ranks, but very little else had really happened.
While her generals, Bobby, the pilot (who will henceforth be known as Kashi) and Siddharta (now the current leader of the beetles after it had been found out that Jugurtha had been killed and had only risen to the position of general due to a clerical error on the part of Dopey, the dopey FEMA cleric) trained their respective squadrons in the deadly art of war, Cindy had been exploring her newfound beetloid abilities. She was already aware that she could fly and that she had supra-human strength, but she was in control of something else, neither human nor beetloid, but rather non-euclidean in nature, a sense of the world that defied and transcended all worlds and dimensions. Yet she could not get a grasp of it, and she struggled with feeling of being a demigod but lacking the power to exercise the abilities of a demigod. “If only Sally or my father, Lord Azeroth, were here, they would help me,” she would think to herself, but she was all alone. It was cold at the top, and not just because she was in Siberia.
But the main source of Cindy’s worry and anxiety was the fact that she still knew nothing about the Raelogphyliographiniteion bomb. She was even beginning to doubt that there was such a bomb that could blow up the entire earth and had wondered whether it would be best to abandon the search for the bomb and instead focus on overthrowing Earth Government and the bee’s influence on her planet. She couldn’t figure out why the bees would want to destroy the earth. There had to be some reason.
And then one day, Kashi came running into Cindy’s tent. “Leader, we have just received news from a recruit who was a prisoner of the Apisia in one of their flying hive prisons. He says that Sally has been captured, and he knows the location of her floating hive prison, above Antwerp, Belgium. Shall I assemble the squadrons?”
“Thank you Kashi, but no,” answered Cindy, “We can’t have Earth Government or the Apisia know anything about this. We must be as secretive as possible. Besides, this is something I must do alone. Kashi, you’re in charge. I’m going to Belgium to rescue my sister."
And now, the stunning conclusion to that sentence!: range yet, familiar sound that had always brought fear and loathing to the pit of her stomach, the abyss of her pancreas, the chasm of her large intestine, and the indentation of her gall bladder. It was the noise of two legs rapping hard and loud, yet nonetheless efficiently on the door, of the four other legs tapping impatiently on the threshhold, of the rustle of eager wings restrained only by the force of their owners, and of a soft but menacing buzzing that continued to grow from from ambience to a room-filling racket: it was the Apisia, the secret branch of the Hive that functioned as both the secret policy and a paramilitary organization, with the ability to act with utter silence or to overthrow the government of some sovereign nations, armed with the best technology the Hive could produce. They were a force to be reckoned with.
"God," though Sally, "The Apisia are on Earth. And attacking the world's greatest techno club. Even they wouldn't do something like that without the consent of some higher power. God, have the bees taken over earth already." She began scanning the club for other exits but stopped herself. "No. They've probably got all the exits covered by now. They never go into action with less than 25 bees. The only way to escape will be to walk out of here. Or die trying. But am I over-reacting? Maybe I’m not the reason they’re here." But she was, for only 3 days previously the KGB (The Kommittee for Great Bees as the hive’s espionage ministry so modestly called itself) had finally managed to figure out where Sally had gone after the queen had released the Gnoztar. Because of some extra-dimensional, non-euclidean force (not to name names, but it was probably lord azeroth) Sally had gone to the realm of the personification of Rumor, bearer of things done and not done, and had learned of many things, true and not true, after which she had gone to a techno club on earth.
The owner of the club, dressed in comically-dressed techno fashion, break-danced his way to the door, all the while mananing to keep his sun-glasses attached to his head. Opening a small slot in the door, he spoke haughtily: “May I ask what you are doing here at ‘The Matrix’?” he asked, not waiting for a reply, “I mean, you do know who I am. Hansfurth von Furthington the III, the man who devoted all the money made from his family’s noble status in Hungary and centuries of hardship and strife into creating a dance club. Well? Are you just going to buzz at me?” He laughed quite euro-trashily and closed the slot in the door. With his back to the door he addressed the people in the club, “Nothing to worry about peoples. I don’t even know why those bees were here in the first place. Everyone know they can’t dance!” He laughed again, and the tension in the room seemed to be broken as a few awkward laughs emanated from various corners of the room.
Hansfurth raised his hands. “Fritz, start up the musi-aughhadioeho;kdl1!” the door came off its hinges and went flying towards him, crushing his legs. A bee dressed all in black stepped through the vacant hole and onto the door pinning Hansfurth, who tried to scream, but just whimpered.
“We shall have no more of your despicable human merry-making today.” He applied more pressure to the door, clearly relishing the power he held over the squirming vertabrate. “I do not find it pleasing to speak in your effiminate tongue, so I shall make myself short and clear. You are harboring a fugitive, one Sally, who has committed many atrocities against Earth Government and its friend and comrade the People’s Government of CrungJucnortOnïtó. If you do not hand her over immediately, I shall be forced to dispose of this...waste,” he said pointing a stinger gun at Hansfurth’s head.
Sally tried to move but she couldn’t at first. She had seen that face before, somehow she knew that bee. Finally, she unfroze herself and ran into the middle of the club. “Dont kill that man! I am Sally, you can take me, just don’t kill that man,” she spilled out.
“Too late,” said the bee as he pulled the trigger. The whole club gasped in horrified terror, but by that time the bee had already turned around to face his bees. “Deploy the gas!” he shouted, and turned back around to face Sally. She tried to step back, but her feet were unresponsive, and she fell. “No!” she thought. The honey gas was making her weak, and right now she needed all the strength she could get. The bee began walking towards her. “Who is that bee?” she wondered, petrified, but she was already beginning to lose consciousness, and the hallucinations were already dancing around her peripheral vision. She could even see a dancing octopus. The bee was getting closer. She tried to crawl, but her arms had gone limp. Now he was standing right above her. “Finally, I have you, Sally.” He smile a horrible grimace, and Sally gasped. That was the bee who had killed her husband, Cal, before she herself had died and gone back in time. But that was in the future? How could he be in the past and still know who she was. But with that thought she collapsed, and the octopus began to waltz.
The Soviet-Beetle-Internal-Revolution-Affairs-Committee-Against-The-Invasion-of-the-Bees-Committee, retitled the Free Earth Multiplanetary Army, or FEMA, had been raiding the Earth Government Farmlands in Mongolia, and training its army in the deep cold of Siberia. Things were harder for the FEMA than it had ever been: it was cold, it was dark, and due to the fact that Siberia had a time zone all to itself outside of the realms of human reasoning, all the primetime shows were on during bugle practice. The days had run on into weeks without end, like an accordian stuffed with too many walnuts, the sheer brute force of monotony that only 13 million square kilometers of snow can achieve. Sure there had been some raids on Earth Government property and assets, and the FEMA had incorporated some new members into its ranks, but very little else had really happened.
While her generals, Bobby, the pilot (who will henceforth be known as Kashi) and Siddharta (now the current leader of the beetles after it had been found out that Jugurtha had been killed and had only risen to the position of general due to a clerical error on the part of Dopey, the dopey FEMA cleric) trained their respective squadrons in the deadly art of war, Cindy had been exploring her newfound beetloid abilities. She was already aware that she could fly and that she had supra-human strength, but she was in control of something else, neither human nor beetloid, but rather non-euclidean in nature, a sense of the world that defied and transcended all worlds and dimensions. Yet she could not get a grasp of it, and she struggled with feeling of being a demigod but lacking the power to exercise the abilities of a demigod. “If only Sally or my father, Lord Azeroth, were here, they would help me,” she would think to herself, but she was all alone. It was cold at the top, and not just because she was in Siberia.
But the main source of Cindy’s worry and anxiety was the fact that she still knew nothing about the Raelogphyliographiniteion bomb. She was even beginning to doubt that there was such a bomb that could blow up the entire earth and had wondered whether it would be best to abandon the search for the bomb and instead focus on overthrowing Earth Government and the bee’s influence on her planet. She couldn’t figure out why the bees would want to destroy the earth. There had to be some reason.
And then one day, Kashi came running into Cindy’s tent. “Leader, we have just received news from a recruit who was a prisoner of the Apisia in one of their flying hive prisons. He says that Sally has been captured, and he knows the location of her floating hive prison, above Antwerp, Belgium. Shall I assemble the squadrons?”
“Thank you Kashi, but no,” answered Cindy, “We can’t have Earth Government or the Apisia know anything about this. We must be as secretive as possible. Besides, this is something I must do alone. Kashi, you’re in charge. I’m going to Belgium to rescue my sister."
(OP: Nate, March 22 2008)
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