*Just another repost!!*
FLYING SHEEP GALORE!! *ahem*
I know A. Lupin has already made a thread about this one, but as I was reading it, I found so many errors in it that just had to be fixed. So, here is the updated version of the story that started it all...
THE EPIC MONTY PYTHON FANFIC!!
Material by: Various Pythonliners. I don't know who helped write it, since it was so long ago!
Rating: PG-13, for the usual violence and cursing and stuff.
Part 1. The Beginning.
John Cleese was taking a bath in his flat when he heard a strange sound coming from outside the bathroom door. He got out the bath, approached the door and to his astonishment, he saw the Reverend Arthur Beling bashing plates against his head. John put a towel around his waist, approached Reverend Beling and said,
"What are you doing?"
The Reverend Beling looked up from the mess of plate shards at the very tall man standing in the door.
"I knew I'd disturb you! I knew it!"
He gathered his broken plates and shoved them dejectedly into the pockets of his suit. Then he rushed towards John and began sobbing uncontrollably on his shoulder.
John awkwardly put his hand on the reverend's shoulder and said, "There, there".
Next he went into his room to put some clothes on. The reverend sank down in an armchair and put his head in his hands. He looked up as John re-entered, dressed in a new blue suit.
"Where are you going in that?" he inquired.
John smiled widely and said that he was going to church to introduce himself to the new vicar. But the reverend stood up, red-faced with anger, and poured a plate of Chinese soup over his head, yelling barbaric YAMP. John watched him with a pained expression as the soup soiled his newly installed Empire discount carpet. He nudged a sodden wonton with the toe of his shoe and watched in horror as it transformed itself into a blancmange. It suddenly jumped onto the reverend and within an instant he was gone, gobbled up by the giant pink dessert. Then Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Brainsample crashed through John's window; along with Terry Gilliam who had recently become a member of "The Planet Skyron Campaign: The Extermination & Digestion of Moderately Large Sweet Puddings Program." The husband and wife team tackled the blancmange with their forks and soon Gilliam joined them in their feeding frenzy. John began to inch backwards out of his flat before making a mad dash down the hallway to the nearest telephone booth. Upon arriving, he flung open the door and punched in some numbers. A voice on the other line picked up and said,
"Yes? Police station."
John hastily replied that he had a wild blancmange in his flat.
"I'm sorry sir, but could you say that again in a higher register?"
With that, John tried again in a higher register, this time screeching out his cry for help. Next, followed John saying,
"Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes," He looked down at his foot and said "Size 11. Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes."
John hung up and noticed a giant cat go by on two legs. It was heading towards the city in an attempt to fight off the swarm of Blancmanges that had taken over London. They've been reported to be practicing tennis using people's heads as balls and their severed legs as rackets. John decided to jump on top of the Giant Cat and help it fight off the blancmanges. Yes! He was the Blancmange Fighter! He and his faithful giant cat would fight off these monsters! Then they saw a huge crowd of blancmanges and went to terminate them. Brandishing his sword, John and the cat charged towards the blancmanges. Valiantly, John stabbed each blancmange from the top while the cat ate the remains. It looked like the things were over for the blancmanges when suddenly Terry Jones appeared, dressed in a suit. He started singing, "Never be rude to an Arab", which distressed the blancmanges who, it's a known fact, descend from Arab origins. They were shocked in front of so much ignorance and daftness and began screaming,
"KILL THE RACIST!!!"
Terry screamed his famous Welsh screech, and raced off into Harrods with all the Blancmanges chasing after him (Cue Benny Hill music). John tried to get off the cat, but he slipped and fell to the hard ground with such force, he dislocated his left shoulder. The Cat meanwhile got bored and began to chase some Killer Cars, leaving John alone, who was in agonizing pain. Then Dr Chapman came flying to John's rescue, as he had recently grown wings due to an unsuccessful experiment he had involving a Norwegian Blue Parrot. The two flew away to a distant mountain where Dr. Chapman relocated John's shoulder and then gave him a lollipop for being such a good patient. Next Dr. Chapman flew away laughing at John’s misfortune. John angrily shook his fist as he flew, screaming,
"YOU PERVERTED PIPE-SMOKING LITTLE BASTARD!! I'M GONNA KILL YOU!"
John sighed heavily, as he tried to think of a way to get down. Then he had an idea. He found an Eskimo and he tried to ask it how to get off the mountain. But the Eskimo thought he was intruding on his territory so he pushed John off of it. John rolled down the rough slopes of the mountain, his clothes ripping on the talus and several cuts and bruises decorated his flesh. He bounced off another boulder and flew into the air and, to his surprise, he landed on the back of a flying sheep. John for the second time, glided through the air. He looked down at the tag and saw it read "Harold". John tried to tell Harold to make a right turn, but Harold didn’t speak English. So, he just sat back and tried to enjoy the ride. John didn't know where the sheep was going to take him or how long they would fly. That’s when he realized that his stomach was growling. This whole adventure had given him quite an appetite. Before he knew it, they were both coming in for a landing in front of a farm. Harold flew into a nearby tree and began to build a nest. John sat up, slightly dazed, and looked at his surroundings. A farmer in a tractor, pulling a group of doctors behind him, drove past. John called out to the doctors to help him patch up the injuries he sustained during his tumble down the mountain. Harold, whilst frantically searching for his toothbrush, accidentally knocked John out of the tree and onto the soft grass beneath.
John grumbled to himself, "Ok, this is just getting stupid."
Suddenly, Michael Palin appeared on his Scarlet and Gold Harley-Davidson, along with an overweight Terry Gilliam strapped to the back, and said,
"Oh Johnny boy! Hop on buddy! We're going to be late for the Python writing session!"
Then they drove all the way to Notlob... sorry Bolton, where the Hell's Grannies gang was tearing apart the place. They saw Mike's Harley and approached them. When out of the blue, Picasso showed up on a bicycle, took the Harley from Mike, Terry, and John, and continued his painting. Pablo chuckled to himself as he sped off down the road in the stolen Harley.
"NOOOOOO! MY HARLEY! MEAN OLD PAINTER TOOK MY BABY!" Mike fell to his knees and wept miserably.
John rolled his eyes, and Terry was crying too as he had left his box of doughnuts on the bike. Mike's sadness then miraculously turned to outrage. He gritted his teeth, and howled in irrepressible rage. He suddenly grabbed Terry, and used him as a bowling ball to try and knock over Picasso, and then put a gun to John's head and threatened to kill him if Terry didn't come back with his bike. John pulled a mace from his back pocket and knocked the gun out of Mike's hands.
"Now go and fetch back your car. Go on, go on!"
Mike rubbed his sore hand and took off after Picasso and Terry. Terry had rolled to a standstill and was teetering back and forth on the cover of a manhole. Mike stopped to put him straight and then tore off again up the street where he nearly caught up with Picasso but was kidnapped by two men in stripped outfits. One had a smart moustache plastered onto his face and the other remained mute. They dropped him into a burlap sack and began muttering in Frenglish.
"Now, We've got you, you silly K-nnnnigit of King Arthur," The man with the smart moustache said, "And we will hold you for ransom until King Arthur gives us back the Holy Grail he stole from us."
"I'm not a knight of King Arthur," Michael said while in the sack, "I'm a sketch writer!"
But it was to no avail, as his voice was muffled from being in the sack. Next, they took him to the Castle Aaaaaaggghhhhh and chained him to the wall. They began to interrogate him with silly questions and at last he replied,
"I didn't expect the Spanish Inquisition."
The door to his cell opened and there, standing in the door way, was Cardinal Ximinez, Cardinal Fang, and Biggles.
"Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition! BIGGLES! Poke him... with the soft cushions!"
And Biggles did so, but our brave Michael was too strong for the soft cushions, so they had to put him... IN THE COMFY CHAIR!! Ximinez started to threaten Michael, when all of a sudden John as Sir Lancelot burst through the door and rescued him. The Spanish Inquisitors fled the torture room and disappeared through another door.
"There, you're safe now Sir Galahad," John patted Michael on the back.
"But I'm not Sir Galahad in this sketch; I'm just plain 'Mike', John!"
John hesitated for a moment and waved his magic wand with a big star on the tip. In an instant, Michael was outfitted as a Knight of the Round Table.
"You are now. Come along."
As they exited The Castle of Aaaaaaggghhhhh, Michael peered over the battlements at the droves of slain peasants.
"Here, did you do all this?" He turned to John in amazement.
"I was forced to kill many in my wild rampage to rescue you. It just fits my idiom! I get a bit carried away sometimes..."
And with that he scooped Michael up in his arms and carried him down the flight of stone steps and into the bog away from the Castle. A French soldier was heard yelling in the distance.
"You stupid tiny brained wipers of other people's bottoms!" he cried, as he chased after them.
John, still holding Michael, took cover behind some shrubberies, to avoid detection. Once the coast was clear, John approached the bog and tossed Mike into it. Mike, covered in a horrible, murky, slimy liquid, glared back at John menacingly.
"What the hell did you do that for!?" He growled.
Suddenly, the so-called Lady of the Bog, a frightful old woman - step sister to the Lady of the Lake - rose up from the waters, clasped her hand over Mike's mouth, wrapped her bony arm round him and said to John,
"If you want your boyfriend back, find and capture that Sir Robin boy, or else this kid's a goner." she cackled evilly.
"Oh no," groaned Michael, "Not again. I was just captured in a burlap sack, chained to a wall, poked with soft cushions and thrown in the mud! I'm not being captured again!" With that, Michael elbowed the Lady of the Bog; and with one fell swoop grabbed Lancelot's sword and held it to her throat.
The Lady of Bog grumbled and went back to the depths from which she came.
Lancelot high-fived him and asked, "Where did you learn to do that?"
"The truth of the matter is," Michael said as he handed Lancelot back his sword. "I'm the real king of England. I pulled the sword out of the stone. I handed it to the lady of the lake to hold while I went to fetch my family and tell them the good news. When I came back, the sword and the lady were gone. She left this note, which read, “Gave it to some kid named Arthur. He was cuter. Think I'll marry him some day.” And that is how Arthur became King of the Britons!””
One day, which would have been then, now, today, whatever, Arthur was walking happily in the forest, when Michael appeared on Lancelot's shoulders screaming,
"I'm so tall! Oooh now I'll show you!"
Arthur looked up at Michael and said, "No, no, no. We've cut that part out. Now get down from there!"
With that, Michael jumped off of Lancelot's shoulders and held his sword in front of King Arthur's throat. King Arthur gulped and asked,
"Why on earth are you holding a sword at my throat?!?!"
"How come Lancelot gets to be the Brave one, Bedevere gets to be the Wise one and I have to be the Chaste?" Michael said, finally accepting his role as Galahad, "You have any idea what that does to my reputation with the maidens??"
“Fine, what would you like to be, then?”
"The handsome one!" He replied with a smile, which showed off his dimples.
Lancelot and Arthur looked at each other then keeled over in laughter. Michael's smile soon disappeared, and he had a very dejected look on his face. "What... you don't think I'm handsome?" Michael mumbled.
Arthur turned back to Mike and replied, "You can't be Sir Galahad the Handsome, because I'm King Arthur the Handsome - not just King of the Britons! Even the Lady of the Lake said that I was cuter than you, so that's PROOF POSITIVE, MY BOY!"
Mike just stared at him dismally, a small tear trickling down his face.
"WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE TO BE SO NASTY TO ME!? I HAVE MY BIKE STOLEN, AND THEN I GET CHUCKED INTO A MURKY BOG FOR NO REASON, AND NOW THIS! YOU’RE ALL A BUNCH OF ARSEHOLES!" He spat out, and with that he threw Lancelot into the Bog, causing the Lady of the Bog to come up again. But this time she took hold of Lancelot. Mike gasped and dived into the bog to save his friend, but the bog proved too be too thick and unswimable (Is that even a word?). The evil Lady saw the struggling knight and decided to snatch him, and proceeded to drag both down into the bog…
We interrupt this story to tell you that Arthur could have saved his two brave knights. If he had gone up to the police and told them that the Lady of the Bog had been sighted, then we’d have sent a couple of anarcho-syndicalist peasants ‘round to check things out. So if you’re playing near a bog or a lake with swords or any other sharp, pointy objects, just nip around to your local police station and tell the sergeant on duty, or his wife, of your adventures. So I’m sorry to have interrupted your lengthy Pythonline sketch but then, strange women lying in ponds are our department. So be safe ‘round these parts, don’t eat too much ‘Illchester...
Michael felt himself suffocating under the pressure and the thickness of the Bog. John commented that it was like swimming in a cold pea soup and tried to open his eyes under the Bog. When he did, all he could see was darkness around him. He felt the Lady's long arm tugging harshly on his leg, and he struggled to swim back up, against her surprising amount of strength. Michael battled viciously to keep himself from drowning. But to no avail. Both men fell unconscious...
Few hours had past and Arthur, now back as Dr Chapman, had gone for a walk out the forest and into a nearby farm where he sat down on a bale of hay, and wrote a poem called, 'Can I have 50 pounds to mend the shed?'. It was a very well written poem, and he grinned happily as he wrote the last line: Hope the bladder trouble's getting better... Love, Ewan He was so proud infact that he decided to mail to it to the Prime minister, and then found a phone booth and rang for a taxi to go to Notlob... Bolton, sorry Bolton, to publicise his new poem. But then he soon discovered that it was not just an ordinary phone booth... why, it was the TARDIS. Yes it was the TARDIS, ran by than none other than David Tennant! (The author of this section decided it should have been David as the Doctor and not Matt Smith. Ah well, David’s sexier… *ahem* moving on…)
"Oh, hello," David said a little surprised.
"What are you doing here?" Dr. Chapman asked.
"In the story? Well, the writer of this bit had to think of some way to save your two friends, John and Mike, so she put me in the picture instead of Matt Smith who is apparently locked up in the Pandorica."
(Ah, that’s why.)
"Okaaay, but you can get me to Bolton?" Gray asked.
"Why would I do that?" David said as he started putting in coordinates for the Bog. "You see, The Lady of the Bog is a most foul and cruel tempered person you ever laid eyes on! And your two friends are now unconscious in the Bog. And that's where we come in." The Doctor pulled the lever to get the TARDIS going.
Will Michael and John be saved from the terrible Bog? Will Dr. Chapman make it to Bolton to promote his legendary poem? Will Terry Jones escape the chasing Blancmanges? Will Terry Gilliam go on a diet? Will I ever stop asking questions? Find out in the next part of the Epic Monty Python Story, which will commence…
The TARDIS appeared in the Lady of the Bog's lair. The Doctor tentatively got out his TARDIS, and used his Sonic Screwdriver as a torch in the Lair's pitch-blackness. Graham followed close behind him. The Doctor then spotted something crawling past him.
"That's peculiar," he whispered, "What's one of these doing all the way down here?"
It was a cute little Adipose (Wiki it, if you don’t know :D), and it quickly covered his eyes with his hands as the bright light shined in his cute widdle, teeny-weeny face. Graham gazed at it in total bewilderment. Then the little Adipose did the can-can, to the Doctor's amusement.
"Oh, look at 'im!" exclaimed the Doctor, "Cutest little thing ever!"
But then there came the sound of cackling in the distance. The little Adipose stopped dancing and hid in the shadows. A figure appeared from the darkness: Why, it was THE TERRIBLE LADY OF THE BOG!! (dun-dun-duunn)
"Doctor," she sneered.
"Hello," said the Doctor. "I understand that you have two friends of ours and we would like to take them back to the surface."
"I'm afraid that is not possible," the lady said. And with the blink of an eye, she did an Earthbending move and Graham flew back into the wall. "You two will join your friends later," the lady said.
She pointed her finger to her left, and there on the wall like Han Solo frozen in carbon from Star Wars, were John and Michael, silent and motionless.
"It gets rather lonely down here," said the Lady of the Bog.
"All right, enough is enough!" a voice shouted.
The Doctor and the Lady turned to see Graham holding the Doctor's sonic screwdriver and pointing it at the lady.
"I don't what's going on here! I was simply trying to phone a taxi to get me to Bolton, then I find out that I was in some sort of... space-time-travel thing! We saw this thing that was doing the can-can. I don't know what the hell this thing is that I'm holding; and you have my friends! Just tell me what the hell is going on here!"
All were silent for a few minutes. The Lady of the Bog grinned and began pulling more Earthbending moves when David suddenly shot fire from his fingers.
"You touch that man and I'll burn you to a crisp!" So on and on, the Doctor did Firebending while the Bog Lady did Earth and Water bending.
"Where did you learn firebending?" the lady asked the Doctor.
"Oh, I've been around," he said and they continued.
"Go save your friends!" yelled the Doctor to Graham.
Graham hesitated a moment and then shouted back, "No way, I'm helping you first!"
"Don't worry, I can handle this! Just stop standing there like an idiot and rescue them before..." and whilst the Doctor was blabbering stuff to Graham, the evil lady blew a huge orb of water from her mouth, sending the Doctor flying into the air and landing on top of Graham.
"You... stupid... idiot..." the Doctor moaned, as he attempted to get up again, but the Lady knocked him down again with another near fatal blow. The Bog Lady then slowly approached Graham.
"Heh heh heh!" she shrieked, to which Graham shouted,
The Lady stopped in her tracks and said, "Why did you say Burma?"
Gray replied, "I panicked..."
The Lady then began rolling around about the floor, laughing her ugly face off.
"Oh... ahahahaa... you're one funny guy ... hahahahaaaa!"
"Now that we got her distracted," the Doctor said, "let's get your friends out."
They rushed over to John and Mike. The Doctor grabbed his sonic screwdriver from Graham, saying to him,
"Nobody touches my screwdriver except me."
The Doctor then went up and down, waving the screwdriver in front of John and Mike, making the icky mess go free of them. The Lady was still laughing her head off when they finally got John and Mike free from the Bog. Both shivered as they fell to the floor and were gasping for air.
"It's all right," the Doctor said. "You're free."
"I... c-can't s-see... an-n-nything," Michael said, blinking several times.
"It'll pass," said the Doctor. "In the mean time, I need to get you guys back up to the surface."
Graham and the Doctor brought Michael and John inside the TARDIS, while the old hag still laughed and eventually died of a ruptured spleen. Both John and Mike were slowly coming out of the sickness and were feeling a little better, but still a little weak. When they reached the surface, all stepped out (well, two were stumbling, but they had help) and standing in front of them was Harold from the previous part of this story! John raised his weary head,
"Harold!" he exclaimed cheerfully.
The sheep bleated with joy. Michael and John discovered that they have been given special powers; John was given water-bending abilities, and Mike accidentally gave Gray an electric shock from holding onto him so tightly, but anyway, John jumped for joy and gave his fluffy friend Harold a big hug.
"Well, I guess that's my mission over with for today. Goodbye now. Need to go and battle some Devil-Possessed Ood," the Doctor proudly announced as he walked back into his TARDIS. The Pythons watched in amazement as the TARDIS slowly disappeared.
"Ok then," Graham said awkwardly, "So... what now?"
Mike ignored him, as he was far more interested in making lightning bolts from his hands and shooting them into the sky.
John then remembered something, "Mike! Your bike! We still need to get it back!"
Mike stopped suddenly, turned slowly towards John and gasped.
"YES! MY BIKE! I MUST GET IT BACK! HOW COULD I FORGET?!"
Then Eric Idle appeared out from nowhere, ran up to John, put a dagger to his jugular, turned towards the sky and shouted,
"IF YOU DON'T INCLUDE ME IN THIS STORY, I'M KILLING THE MAIN PROTAGONIST! I'VE WAITED AGES TO BE INVOLVED IN THIS MADE-UP FANTASY FIC, SO LET ME IN NOW!"
"All right," said a voice upstairs.
Eric was in this story for maybe 30 seconds when he was suddenly swooped up by a large duck and was carried towards the mountains where he would remain until somebody put him in the story for good. Just then they heard a sound in the distance. Yes, it was Picasso on the stolen bike.
"If you want your precious bike," he shouted to them, "Then--"
"I do want my bike, you soddy Spanish person!" Mike shouted and shot a lightning bolt at him.
"You missed!" Picasso yelled.
"I'm just getting warmed up!" Mike said.
Picasso then revved the engine and sped off. All three jumped on Harold and flew off to get the bike back. They were close to a river so John could practice his water-bending powers. He made a wave that knocked Picasso off the bike, causing no damage to the bike. Harold landed and Mike, fire in his eyes, jumped off and started throwing lightning from his hands left and right manically.
"Michael, control yourself," John said, restraining Michael from doing any more harm.
"But you know what he did! You saw him steal my bike!"
"Yes, I suppose you're right," John said, and then bended water which he turned into icicles and pinned Picasso to the ground.
Soon they realized that they were near the Gorge of Eternal Peril, so they had an even better idea of how to finish Picasso. With the deed done, they went to fetch Terry Gilliam. Graham decided that he had enough of this fic for one day, so he re-grew his Parrot wings from earlier on in the story, said "Cheerio!" in a very valiant way to Mike and John, and flew off to find Bolton. John leapt back onto Harold, and Michael back onto his Harley-D and both went on the search to find Gilliam. They looked anywhere and everywhere for him. Harold was beginning to get very tired, so he landed, miraculously, back outside John's apartment.
"Where the bloody heck could he have gone?" John murmured impatiently.
Mike nudged John.
"John? I think you need to look at this..." he said worriedly. Mike pointed to the sky.
John looked up, and his eyes widened. It was a strange black, round object which was slowly moving towards the sun.
"Oooh there’s going to be an eclipse!" John said excitedly, "I've never seen one of them before!"
Mike looked puzzled. "But Britain isn't predicted to have another Eclipse till 1996."
"So then... what's that in the sky...?"
Under closer inspection, the large object turned out to be overweight Terry Gilliam, floating high in the sky, after someone (for some reason) fed him helium.
"Terry!" shouted Mike and John.
"Hey guys," Terry said in a very high-pitched chipmunk voice. "I appear to be floating about up here and was wondering if you could get me down."
John had an idea. He jumped on Harold and they flew up to Terry. John patted him on the back until Terry let out a very big burp. The burp rang out across the world. The Japanese thought that Godzilla had come back; the South Americans thought it was an El Chupacabra, the Himalayans thought it was a Yeti. All of them could have been possible if they all existed, but no. After burping, Terry began to float down and the sun was uncovered. When they returned to the ground, Terry no longer was big and fat from eating all the blancmanges, he returned to his normal size, sadly. A radio had turned on in a nearby cafe, everyone gathered.
"We interrupt this program to bring you news of a group of man-eating blancmanges are chasing who appears to be Terry Jones of Monty Python. We understand that the blancmanges have Arab origins and were offended when Mr. Jones was singing 'Never Be Rude to an Arab.' They also have been terrorizing the city and have grown in numbers. PEOPLE ARE BEING TURNED INTO SCOTSMAN OR BEING GOBBLED UP BY THESE BEINGS!! SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP... no, no! Please don't... AAAAAAGGGHHHH!"
The sound of someone being gobbled up was heard on the radio.
"Who will save us?" somebody cried.
"Leave it to us!" they heard someone shout.
Everybody turned to see three strange looking men and a sheep with wings standing heroically in the street. One was wearing a tattered blue suit, the other one wearing blue jeans and a black shirt (Mike), and the other one with pink stuff all over and wielding a chainsaw (how Terry got it, nobody knows).
"We'll save you!" John remarked bravely.
Just then they heard a scream in the distance. It was Eric flying on his duck looking for revenge.
"GRRRR, I WANNA BE THE STAR OF THIS FIC, NOT YOU GUYS!" He bellowed loudly as he swooped down towards them rapidly. The three Pythons ducked for cover, with Eric narrowly missing them. Mike shot a lightning bolt at the duck that paralysed it and sent it plummeting to the ground. Eric jumped off the startled Duck and jumped up and down in a fit of outrage.
"GGGRRRRAAAAAHHHH! WHY, WHY, WHY, WHY?!?! STUPID BLOODY DUCK!"
John called out to him, "ERIC! Stop behaving like a spoiled child and calm down for Christ's sake!"
Eric glared back at him, red-faced. "NO I WILL NOT CALM DOWN! I WANTED TO BE IN THIS STORY FOR AGES NOW, AND WHEN I DID EVENTUALLY GET INTO IT, SOME BLOODY DUCK COMES AND SWOOPS ME AWAY! WELL I'M HAVING NONE OF IT NOW! Even though it's probably not your fault that all this happened to me, YOUR ALL GONNA PAY! PREPARE TO DIE! MUAHAHAHAAA!"
Terry and Mike both stared at him, totally baffled.
"Oh God, he's finally cracked." John sighed.
And with that, Eric ran towards them, stole Mike's Harley (Not again!) and rode off, laughing a very villainous laugh. Mike realized his Harley had got stolen (again) and started crying like a baby.
"You're always so mean to me!" he said.
John and Terry tried to comfort him and John took out a book and started reading a story to Mike, but he couldn’t read so Terry took the book and attempted to read it but he couldn't either. Suddenly Eric returned with the Harley carrying a bazooka. (How he got it, still nobody knows.)
"You’re stupid!" he said to Terry, "You don't even know how to bloody read!” and aimed the bazooka at him. Terry and Eric then started to argue.
"I so know how ta read!" Terry said.
"No you bloody don't!" snapped Eric.
"Yes I do!" Terry remarked.
Eric got off the Harley, and on and on they argued. John and Michael thought it was the perfect opportune moment to come up with a plan. So Mike returned to his Harley, as John hopped onto Harold. They each held an end of a long chain and charged towards Eric, whose back was turned to them. They were two feet away when Terry jumped into the air as Eric turned around and got clothes-lined by the chain. Terry came back down and when Eric got up, he roundhouse kicked him so hard it would make Chuck Norris fall to the ground (but, sadly it wouldn't even make a scratch on him... Chuck I mean, not Eric. Cause Chuck Norris cannot be defeated by just three Pythons. He would break like that *finger snap*. Chuck Norris and God are fighting, who wins? Trick question. Chuck Norris IS God. [Grail Army] "GET ON WITH IT!" Oh, sorry. Back to the story).
Eric stumbled to get back on his feet. He grabbed the bazooka and prepared to fire it. Clouds began to appear and thunder was heard in the distance. John, now being a full realized water-bending master, used this advantage to produce water out of thin air and flung it towards Eric. Now he was on the ground, bazooka flown out of his hand, wet, throwing a temper tantrum, and bawling like a baby.
"IT'S NOT FAIR!" he shouted. "IT'S NOT FAIR, IT'S NOT FAIR!! I WANTED TO BE PART OF THIS BLOODY STORY FROM THE VERY START, BUT ALL I GET IS THIS?! WHY DOES JOHN HAVE TO BE THE MAIN CHARACTER AND I'M CHOPPED LIVER?!" He bawled some more when John approached Eric and bitch-slapped him.
"You're going to act like an adult, or I'm going to sick my giant cat on you," John said.
Though the giant cat at the beginning of this story got bored and chased some Killer Cars, John knew where the cat was: just a few blocks down from where they were. Terry Jones finally came around the corner still screaming while the blancmanges were chasing him, because it was about time that he was back in this story. He rushed towards the 4 Pythons at speed and, not looking where he was going, smashed into Eric. Eric groaned heavily and he looked up to see a panting Jonesy gasping for breath, staring back at him wide-eyed and sweating like a pig. Eric had finally had enough.
"GET OFFA ME YOU CHUBBY SNOTTY-NOSED RACIST!!" He bellowed and fiercely kicked Terry off of him.
John had had enough of Eric's behaviour, so he bent down, grasp hold of Eric's collar and dragged him up forcefully, so that they were both eye level. John balled up his left fist and violently struck Eric in the stomach. When John let go, Eric fell to the floor holding his stomach in dire pain.
"Now, will you stop this outrageous behaviour?" John inquired in a calm upper-class manner.
Eric gritted his teeth and muttered an almost inaudible 'Yes', to which John heard, and then smiled to himself. In the distance, the Blancmanges had finally caught up to Jonesy and were slowly approaching the Pythons. Whilst John tended to Jonesy's aid, Mike and Gil thought of a cunning idea to stop the Blancmanges. Mike got back onto his Harley with Gil sitting behind him and sped off towards them. Mike found a bike ramp (How convenient!), which catapulted him into the air. As the Blancmanges all jumped up to fight the duo, Mike performed a mighty mid-air back flip, knocking the Blancmanges high into the air to which Terry jumped off and up into the sky, grabbed the Blancmanges that flew past and gobbled them up. John and Jonesy watched in astonishment as Mike performed mid-air 12 o'clocks whilst reverse roundhouse kicking the Blancmanges and still holding onto the handlebars, and Terry managing to leap up, eat the desserts, and land back on the bike successfully every time. Eric grinned madly to himself and snuck off behind the cafe to think of his plan to rid this story of John and the others for good.
"I'll show them," he muttered grinning wildly.
More blancmanges were coming left and right and it seemed too much for Mike and Gil as they almost defeated what remained of the last group.
"We need a little help here!" Mike shouted from above.
"I've had enough running around!" Jonesy said. "I'll show these pink desserts who is boss." And at that, Jonesy took a running start and leaped into the air, knocking out blancmanges, opening a can of whoop ass. John called his cat and he climbed back onto it and went off to join the fight. Eric, meanwhile, was still thinking of the most devious and diabolical plan yet to get rid of John and the others. He had found a death ray in a dumpster that still looked like it was in good shape, but he didn't notice that it had a large crack in it. The people in the streets cheered on as the Fab Four (the Pythons, not the Beatles) fought the invading blancmanges. The sound of roundhouse kicking, swords meeting blancmange, and ninja yells were heard in London. Terry G and brought his chainsaw and as he leaped off the bike, which was still in the air, started to shear the blancmanges bit by bit and landed back on the bike when he was through. Mike and Gil landed on the other side of the whole fight and were about to catapult the bike again when suddenly -- KABOOM!! Both Michael and Terry flew 15 feet in the air and crash landed on top of some cars. The bike was completely destroyed by the blow of the bomb. And that bomb came from none other than -- ERIC IDLE! He came out of the smoke, in Rambo gear, complete with headband, and a billion other grenades, bombs, guns, bullets, and assorted fruits. Michael and Terry struggled to get up as Eric walked over to them. He first grabbed Terry by the throat and threw him up against a wall. Eric then grabbed Mike by the collar and said,
"I plan on destroying your reputation, but now, I'm gonna destroy you completely!"
Still held by the collar, Mike was bashed up against another car. Then he was thrown to the ground and was kicked several times. He managed to kick Eric in the groin and get up. He grabbed a handgun from Eric and pointed it at Eric.
"You were never the nice one," Mike said. "You were always stuck up and you were ruining my reputation when you got confused as me sometimes when fans see you. Well, enough of that. Goodbye, Eric."
"Please have mercy, Michael," Eric said, putting a Cheshire cat grin on his face. "You're the nice one after all. You wouldn't harm a fly. Everyone won't like you when you kill me. Then they'll call you 'the not so nice one' or 'the one who shot Eric.' And what's that going to do to you?" He protruded a knife and stabbed Michael in the leg. "It's gonna get you killed," Eric said and brass knuckled Mike in the stomach.
As Mike went down Eric made a cut of Michael's left cheek and beat him up several times until Michael fell into unconsciousness.
"Hey! You! Rambo!" a voice shouted from above.
Eric turned around and looked to see John on the giant cat, leaving all the fighting to Jonesy who was still karate chopping blancmanges. It had now started to sprinkle. Eric produced a large cat toy and said,
"Here kitty, kitty, kitty."
That cat, so set on fighting Eric, was now distracted by the toy. When Eric launched the toy into the distance, the cat lunged after it, knocking John off. John landed safely this time in a puddle of soft pink stuff. He had his sword in hand that magically appeared in his hand just before the Fab Four were about to fight the blancmanges. Eric threw apples, oranges, green gages, pomegranates, plums, cherries, bananas, raspberries, and mangos in syrup at John which he sliced one after the other. Then all hell broke loose; bullets flying, people ducking, grenades going off as well as bombs. John tucked and rolled and hid behind cars. Now it began to pour heavily. The firing had ceased and John peeked behind one of the cars. He looked and Eric was standing right in front of him and kicked John in the face, sending him backwards onto the pavement. Eric unsheathed his sword and brought it down on John. John blocked it and bended a wave that knocked Eric onto the street.
John walked up to Eric and said, "You'll never be a main protagonist in fantasy fic like this. You'll always be the one who won't ever be included unless someone finally has the guts to put you in. The rest of us will be put to the test, battling whatever the writers may throw at us. And you, you snivelling little coward? You'll be a nobody, just like you always were."
"NO I WON'T!" Eric shouted and they went at each other.
On and on they fought until John's sword was knocked out of his hand. It flew in the air and landed in the ground. John panicked for a moment and then water bended every way he could. But it was no use. Eric knocked him down and before Eric could make the final blow and end this, John did something he has never done before: blood bend. Eric was surprised at this, and was a little scared. John bravely rose as he took control over Eric's body (though it's very macabre, it's cool).
John made Eric turn his own sword to his gut and said, "You're fucking nicked, mi old beauty!"
"Go on," Eric said. "Make me run through my own sword. You haven't got the guts."
John thought about it and let go. Eric grinned wildly as he was about to run his sword into John when he stopped dead in his tracks and there was a flash of lightning. Eric fell to the ground as John peeked through his hands when he covered his face. Michael had shot Eric with as much strength as he had. Then he collapsed to the ground and breathed a sigh of relief. The sky cleared up and all around them was pink stuff, bullet casings, and fruit pieces. Jonesy had finally defeated the blancmanges by himself, Gil came back to consciousness and John help Michael up. They looked down at the motionless body of Eric and felt they had saved the story from almost certain destruction. That evening they (John, Mike, Jonesy, Gil, and Gray) gathered on a hill to inter Eric's body into the ground and had a moment of silence.
"You really didn't need to kill him," John said to Mike as they walked down the hill.
"Felt like I needed to," he replied.
They returned to London as heroes, ready to defend the city from any harm. They were The Pythons. But what they didn't know is later that night, the moon was full in the sky and there was a rumble in the earth around the hill. The grass turned brown, the trees went dead, and single hand emerged from the surface…
Part 2 is somewhere, you’ll just have to find it :D
Only kiddin', here it is: