Zoostuck 3

franklin roosevelt

As much as you'd like to take that guy down a peg - he was openly working with Commies, for crying out loud - he's already dead. In fact, he died the moment you took charge of this committee in 1950.

Which, now that you think of it, is awfully convenient for him. This must be a nefarious left-wing conspiracy, and not the result of a highly abbreviated history put together by a no-talent hack who couldn't be bothered to do his research.

Clearly he faked his death in order to avoid an investigation! But unfortunately, the Senate parliamentarian has already told you multiple times that no, you can't subpoena a corpse.

Ah, but that's it! If he's alive, he must have adopted a new identity! You just need to figure out who it is and bring them in for a hearing.

But who could it be?

Com Unist

What? Why, it couldn't be Com! He's your best friend and he's always asking about how your hearings are going and if you have any juicy classified information for him.

Oh, in fact, you're meeting up with him for lunch in about an hour. You promised him some good highly-sensitive intel, too. Now, dang it, what are you going to tell him about?

Hmm... the Hoover Dam was a communist plot... uhh... the committee is going after Edward Murrow... no... Oh! Of course!

You'll tell him about Area 51

Hmm... the Hoover Dam was a communist plot... uhh... the committee is going after Edward Murrow... no... Oh! Of course!

You'll tell him about Area 51

You mull over a few options, then decide that the most interesting one is the secret military base where you're going to keep all the aliens and other cool top-secret stuff. You make a specific point to remember the exact location and all the security details, because Com loves hearing that stuff.

Too bad that car-eating person disappeared, you could have sent him there. That would probably have gotten you a few sweet favors from the Defense Department, but oh well. You'll sure you'll get over it after you convict a few more Communists.

You are now the unidentified person who ate a time-traveling car.

It seems that you have traveled one year into the future, and you landed at the site of Area 51 and were captured. You haven't figured out how to consciously use the car you swallowed to travel through time, so you're kind of stuck here.

Or at least, you were until some guy who sounded Russian opened the lock on your containment chamber. You heard him mumble something about a distraction before he ran off to mess with another lock.

So now that you can get out, what are you going to do?

DRIVE

DRIVE

That's right, you have a fully-operational car in your stomach! You should be able to just drive your way out! You immediately start shifting around in an attempt to hit the gas pedal. (Which is a bit of a weird name considering the car doesn't actually need any fuel, because Edgebert ignored the laws of the universe that would require it.)

OH GOD THE PAIN YOU CAN FEEL THE TIRES SPINNING IN YOUR SPLEEN

Yeah, maybe this would work better if you got the car outside of you. You need to vomit it up somehow. But how are you going to do that?

turn your whole self inside-out

Just drive to your spleen, Magic School Bus style.

Just drive to your spleen, Magic School Bus style.

no no, fantastic voyage style

turn your whole self inside-out

While you're sure there are devices here capable of that, you're not so sure that there are any that can turn you back afterwards.

Just drive to your spleen, Magic School Bus style.

no no, fantastic voyage style

You briefly contemplate the notion of entering your own body to remove the car, but the logistics of this just confuse you. You're pretty sure this universe's physics aren't that messed-up.

But now that you have the idea, you can't get it out of your head and you just keep thinking about it and getting more confused and now you're getting a headache, you could use some aspirin, is it better to take that with food or not, actually you haven't eaten anything since the car, you could really go for something to eat, oh god is that food over there on that table marked TEST SAMPLES, you hope it was because you've already eaten it, uh your stomach doesn't seem to think it was BLEUGH.

You have now vomited up a car, and whatever the hell was in that thing you ate. You don't want to think about it any more. You also don't want to do any more traveling through time, even if you manage to figure out how that works.

Instead, you drive off in the confusion. You gradually piece your life back together, and become an avid collector of very fast cars. In time, you are known as the Fast Car Guru.

Sixty years later, you make a bet with a snail that is jeopardized by the fact that your very first car, the one that you used to travel forward in time, has been stolen.

In an ill-advised attempt to persuade the snail to drop the bet, you set him on fire and you have no idea what happened after that. Still, until he comes back you're not going to have to worry about paying up at all.

So what are you doing in the meantime?

drop the snail

Running

drop the snail

You'd have to find the snail to drop him. Also you'd have to pick him up, which probably wouldn't work too well if he was still on fire.

Running

But if the snail can't find you, he can't make you pay up! You start running as fast as you can, in what you hope is the opposite direction of the snail.

About half an hour later, you start feeling really tired and wish you had some sort of very fast vehicle you could use to run away instead. But rather than reflect too much on that thought, you keep running.

You are now a snail.

You are no longer on fire, which you appreciate, but it also means you're no longer going very, very fast.

Some evil old man put your fire out and then went off to kill the coolest guy in the universe. You know this because he gloated about how the narrative focus was on him so he could go and kill the coolest guy in the universe as part of his plan to eliminate all coolness.

You have no idea what you could possibly do about that, so instead you're just going to focus on how you're getting out of this bet you made with the guy with a thousand really fast cars.

So how are you going to do that?

Also running

Also running

Yeah, if you just run away and never see that guy again, you won't have to pay up. You don't even know why you made that bet in the first place; you're a snail, what would you even do with all that money?

So you keep running, and running, and running.

It is now several months later. You are Will Smith again.

Some old guy and a snail just ran right into you. They both look like they've been running for months, and now they're desperately trying not to acknowledge each other's existence.

This is an annoying distraction because you're still trying to figure out how to get to the party so you can ruin it as the first step to becoming universally hated.

What was the stupid idea you just had for that, again?

You're going to need... A SNAILMAN

a deadly case... of murder

a deadly case... of murder

Your first thought was murdering your way to the party, mostly as a way to make more people hate you. But you don't actually have anyone to murder, and... oh, wait, now you do!

So now the only problem is that you don't actually know how to murder anyone. And this seems like an awkward thing to ask about.

You're going to need... A SNAILMAN

Just then, another stupid idea strikes you. You have a snail and a frail old man, both of whom move quite slowly. But if you combine them, the slowness should cancel out and they'll be really fast!

You're pretty sure that's how it works.

Anyways, you may not know how to murder someone, but you do know how to merge two separate beings into a single abomination. You promptly do that, then get on the Snailman's back and order it to take you to the party.

You are now the Snailman. You are horrified at what you have become. You possess the shared mind of the two entities who compose your deeply disturbing body, and you realize that you totally would have won that bet that you were trying to back out of and dammit now you owe yourself a ridiculous amount of money, which you don't actually care about.

Also there's this guy on your back demanding you take him to a party. But you can't do that without resolving your internal financial issue.

What are you going to do?

> go to a nefarious pay-day loan lender. That's where the real party is!

Issue a debt/equity swap with a bank in Nicaragua

declare yourself a sovereign nation and mint your own fiat ca$h to pay yourself off with

bitcoin

> go to a nefarious pay-day loan lender. That's where the real party is!

You don't even know where to start looking for one of those! And this guy on your shell keeps poking you if you try to move in a direction he doesn't like.

Issue a debt/equity swap with a bank in Nicaragua

You have no idea how that works, and you can't get to a bank anyways!

declare yourself a sovereign nation and mint your own fiat ca$h to pay yourself off with

Oh, this plan might work! You can totally designate right here to be a sovereign nation. Except, um, you don't have any paper or anything to print money on.

bitcoin

Suddenly, an idea strikes you! Digital currency! You don't need to print that on anything! You promptly declare the creation of the Snailvanian Bitcoin and order fifty thousand of them transferred to yourself to pay off your debt.

There, that's settled. You race off towards Porlock at a speed no snail should be able to imagine without being on fire.

However, as you cross over the border into Denmark, you suddenly find yourself filled with an inexplicable rage. You despise this place, and you don't even understand why. You have a deep-seated hatred for this entire country that just seems to have spontaneously manifested. It's like there's some kind of universal law that you have to hate Denmark.

You are now Zoosmell Pooplord and you're at this party, and it's great and all, but you have the strangest feeling that you're in Denmark, and this thought makes you really mad for some reason.

What are you going to do about it?

be a swede

be a swede

You already are! You hail from the Marianas Trench, which is Swedish territory for complex political reasons you never bothered to learn.

Or, wait, was that Switzlerland? You know it was one of those countries, but you were too busy being the most uncool being in the entire universe to care.

Regardless, you're really mad about being in Denmark. Good thing this really cool party is distracting you from this weird sense of frustration, otherwise you don't know what you'd do!

You are now Mark-but-really-Debbie Downer and you and this blanket have a party to ruin. How are you going to do that?

unspike the punch