The Deadly Division of Blooka-Blooka

Book III of the Blooka-Blooka Trilogy

Chapter 1: Ruminations

A fugitive sat on the filthy floor of an underground cellar. He typed away at an aged laptop, occasionally pausing to take a few sips of some sort of veggie slushie.

Well, that’s that, he announced. The absolutely perfect plan has failed—and horribly at that. There was a variable which I did not take into account. The brother of that maniac Plooka-Plooka. I was prepared for any and every contingency. He now spoke slowly, rage in his bloodshot eyes. Except. Him. He stood up and paced the room. How could I defend against an enemy I thought dead?

Now finished with his drink, Altrin Perkins sighed. Because of me, the world is now in turmoil. If he had only been a better shot, World War III would never have begun. He stopped, suddenly realizing something.

Wait! It’s not my fault! It’s that repulsive thief’s fault! Altrin’s eyes widened with newly-found insight. If he had not tried to begin a life of crime, I wouldn’t have been forced to shoot him, Plooka-Plooka would never have … have … he swallowed hard, splatted that ice cream; why, this whole disaster could have been averted!

Maybe he could … with a time-machine? Thinking of his current living conditions, Altrin decided time-machines were out of the question.

Chapter 2: A Declaration of War

A figure sat behind a half-immaculate, half-cluttered desk, in the center of a darkened room. He held the world’s most sophisticated pen and wrote a very official letter on a sheet of three-thousand-year-old parchment.

To Altrin Perkins and His Cousins:

I wish you to know that I have nothing but warm fuzzy feelings of distrust and wrath toward you.

I hope you are offended, but I formally declare war upon you and those unfortunate countries which happen to fall under your villainous control. Prepare to die.


P.S. Hope you enjoy this letter’s self-destruct function!

Hey, you! Plooka-Plooka shouted to one of his minions, Couldn’t you have stolen some extra ink for this thing? It ran out just as I was drawing a smiley face and now it looks unprofessional.

When the minion asked why it was so important to have a smiley face on the war letter if it was going to be blown up anyway, Plooka-Plooka answered, It’s all about presentation! Without good presentation, a declaration of war ain’t worth nothin’!

Chapter 3: Robbers’ Isle

Finally! Blooka-Blooka said, Robbers’ Isle. I just know I’ll fit in here! A pudgy little bird walked up to him and squawked. Blooka-Blooka looked down at it and exclaimed, Yay! I knew the dodo bird wasn’t extinct! He reached down to pet the funny bird. You’re not scared of people, are you? You must be smarter than those dumb birds back home. Maybe I’ll keep you for a pet.

The dodo pecked his shoe in agreement. The bird Plooka-Plooka and I had back home was so dumb it wouldn’t even eat the quality dog food we found for it. What sort of brainless creature wouldn’t eat quality dog food? The dodo gave no answer, so Blooka-Blooka continued, Now that I think about it, maybe the package said ‘Only for Dogs’ for a good reason. Well, since I don’t have any dog food with me, maybe you’d like this? He held out a rather bruised lemon to the bird. It’s a bit smooshed from the landing, he explained, pointing to the burning remains of a plane, but it should still be fine. Try it! Haven’t you heard? Lemons are delicious.

Not knowing any better, the dodo took the lemon from Blooka-Blooka, chewed it a couple times, and swallowed it nearly whole. When the bird puckered up, Blooka-Blooka said sympathetically, A bit sour for you, huh? Maybe I should just let you find your own food from now on, so you don’t die like our other bird...

Blooka-Blooka walked over to the bottom of a small cliff and said, This should be the place. Open sesame!

Nothing happened. Um, open rice? Still nothing. Open wheat? Or maybe oats? Open barley? At these last two words, there came the sound of a motor running. The side of the cliff opened to reveal a hidden robbers’ cave! Blooka-Blooka entered and shouted back to the dodo, Come on, Charley, we don’t got all day!

Chapter 4: Ice Cream Collection

Alrighty, minions! We now have every variety of ice cream in the world! Plooka-Plooka’s minions cheered loudly at this announcement. We even have really strange flavors like spaghetti and broccoli! A nearby minion cleared his throat. I bet you’ve never even heard of spaghetti ice cream! The minion cleared his throat again, a little more loudly. And I’m positive even fewer of you have seen it in person, or tasted it, Plooka-Plooka said grandly, and the nearby minion made a cutting motion with his hand across his throat. So, Fred, let’s bring out a couple dozen cartons for everyone to sample!

Fred the nearby minion walked up to Plooka-Plooka. Sir, we don’t have any spaghetti ice cream. The Italy raid was a bust, remember? They had a tank. We barely escaped with the lasagna ice cream.

Plooka-Plooka, getting annoyed at Fred, asked angrily whether it would it have killed him to grab some spaghetti ice cream. Fred replied, Yes, sir, it would have. Ash Mound Joe was a perfectly good example of that. And my name is Oscar, not Fred.

Plooka-Plooka huffed, then shouted to his minions, Everyone to the war machines! We’re going to get some spaghetti ice cream if it kills us!

Chapter 5: A Fine Mess

Altrin walked up to the door of his hideout. He unlocked the fifty-something different locks and bolts required to open the door. He tried to pull the door open, but the door would not budge. He yanked on it with all his might, but only succeeded in ripping the doorknob off and falling on the hard floor.

Altrin knew Plooka-Plooka was responsible for this. He was so angry that, without thinking, he threw his laptop at the sabotaged door, trying to break it down so he could go for his nine-o’clock morning walk. Of course this didn’t affect the four-inch-thick steel door, and simply resulted in a ruined computer.

Now since he couldn’t hope to get any help from his cousins—he had just thrown his only means of contacting them at the door, after all—Altrin proceeded to throw all the rest of his belongings at the door, and most ended up just like the laptop. He started beating against the door with his fists, then remembered his emergency dynamite.

Altrin lit the dynamite and set it at the base of the welded-shut door. It exploded and shrapnel went everywhere. At least the door was open now.

Suddenly, a massive wave of ice cream began flooding in! Some entered his mouth. Spaghetti? It was almost as disgusting as those mashed gourds.

When the flood finally stopped, Altrin’s head was pressed against the ceiling by what seemed to him like several tons of ice cream. All his stuff was ruined!

Plooka-Plooka was going to get it now.

Chapter 6: Blooka-Blooka’s Confession

Blooka-Blooka finished checking all his satellites and radio towers. Well, I should now be able to broadcast over every known frequency. He spent a few more minutes getting his auto-translators all set up correctly.

He turned on his walkie-talkie, which was so powerful that it could talk to basically anyone in the world. It even worked straight through cave walls. Well, Charley, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. A squawk came from the other end. Switch it on, pal! After a few minutes, the generator still hadn’t turned on. It seemed to Blooka-Blooka that Charley was ignoring him.

Charley, this is your owner speaking. I command you to turn on the generator. The sound of flapping wings came over the walkie-talkie, and he heard Charley’s television turn on. No, Charley, not the TV! The generator! The thing with the big red lever! What was Charley’s problem?

Charley, do I have to go do this myself?! A green light suddenly came on at Blooka-Blooka’s command center and the sound of a generator powering up came over the walkie-talkie. Finally.

Hello, everyone. My name is Blooka-Blooka. I attempted to become a thief, and this world wart three thingy started because of me. There is no reason to fight anyone but me. Here are the coordinates of my robbers’ cave! Wipe me off the face of the earth!

Chapter 7: Destroying the Thief

You got it, bandit scum! Altrin ran down the hall to Hytraponon’s war room, holding a scrap of paper with the thief’s coordinates written on it.

Hytraponon! I have the location of that nasty thief!

Hytraponon said, So do we. He broadcasted it over virtually every radio frequency. What’s your point? Altrin replied, He’s responsible for all this! Hytraponon shrugged. Are you just planning on relaying his whole message in your own words or do you actually have something important to tell me?

Altrin screamed, Just shoot everything you have at him! Hytraponon rolled his eyes and said to one of his generals, Go ahead and send a nuke. Altrin shouted once more, Don’t just shoot the nuke! Shoot everything! Hytraponon sighed and wished his cousin would stop trying to control his army. Didn’t he realize they couldn’t afford to waste all their weapons on some thief that Altrin happened to have a grudge against?

Altrin was jumping up and down now like a toddler throwing a tantrum. EVERYTHING! SHOOT EVERYTHING! he kept screaming. Finally Hytraponon became so annoyed that he shouted, Altrin, if you don’t stop this instant, I’m not going to shoot anything! That calmed him down. Now, what do you want me to fire at him?

Altrin grumpily mumbled, Something powerful.

Chapter 8: A Small Miscalculation

Blooka-Blooka was interrupted from his daily bullet-dodging practice when his cave command center’s incoming missile alarm sounded. What? I thought my calculations said the missiles wouldn’t arrive for three more hours! He looked at the sheet of paper he had been writing the mathematical computations on. I wish I had paid more attention to that ‘Dear Me, Aunt Sally’ thing in school! I think I did some of the steps in the wrong order...

He yelled into his walkie-talkie. Get to your rocket, Charley! Of course Charley paid no attention. Right now, Charley! Blooka-Blooka heard the television’s volume increase. Charley, stop ignoring me and get to your rocket! There’s less than a minute before the robbers’ cave gets blown sky-high!

Blooka-Blooka finally heard Charley the dodo turn off the television. Now get to the rocket! He heard Charley’s refrigerator open. You don’t need a snack! Just leave the lemons there!

Suddenly the missile struck the island. There was a deafening explosion, and Robbers’ Isle was no more.

Chapter 9: Decommissioning the Minions

Plooka-Plooka sighed. Things just wouldn’t be the same without … without … his beloved minions. Now that he had finished ruining Altrin Perkins’ life, he couldn’t exactly keep paying them for nothing.

He stood outside the old abandoned warehouse and personally said goodbye to each minion in his army. Goodbye, Karl. Goodbye, Carl. Good riddance, Lyle. Goodbye, Karl. Goodbye, Carl. Plooka-Plooka didn’t even know most of the minions’ names, so many of them ended up being called Karl or Carl. Then along came (or hobbled) Oscar. Goodbye, Fred. Oh, and no hard feelings about the leg, right?

My name is Oscar, he answered, shaking his crutch in Plooka-Plooka’s face, And there are very hard feelings about you sending me out there as bait to lure the tank away so you could steal three lousy cartons of spaghetti ice cream.

Oh, gee, I’m real sorry about that, Fred, but you’re kinda holding up the line here. With that, Plooka-Plooka shoved Oscar aside, and continued with his farewells.

When he had finally finished, his hand was raw from shaking hands with all those minions. Wow, that was pretty rough. Glad that’s over. Just then, Oscar returned. You didn’t shake my hand yet! He grabbed Plooka-Plooka’s hand. Oscar had sandpaper on his hand and made sure he scraped it all over Plooka-Plooka’s hand before letting go.

Ow! Do you work for Altrin or something?

Chapter 10: Learning from Mistakes

Blooka-Blooka sat down at his computer back at his house. He sipped his lemon tea, then sighed. He still hadn’t gotten over the fact that Charley had been blown into smither … smother … lots of little pieces. He should have taken Charley back with him the day he evacuated—when he set up the re-broadcast system in the cave, two days before the missiles hit—instead of giving him his own escape rocket. Because he had decided to become a thief, the dodo really was extinct now. Well, I’ve learned my lesson. Crime doesn’t pay.

He typed out an e-mail to Plooka-Plooka, informing him that he was not as dead as he would have expected. He told Plooka-Plooka that he had actually just sent the message with coordinates and stuff to the re-broadcasting system in the robbers’ cave, which in turn broadcasted it out to the entire world. He sent it, and received a message a few minutes later. It simply said, That’s too bad.

Blooka-Blooka was insulted at this. Plooka-Plooka probably just envied his cool little brother. He decided to move on and went to his favorite news site. Oh good, that world wart thing is over. Hey, this video looks interesting. ‘All the Awesome Things Con Artists Do’...

The End