“Aw, Dick…” said Gore, looking disgustedly at his successor as he fanned the air away from his flushed, porcine face.
The giant squid belched, spattering shreds of flesh and cloth all over the starship’s control room, then slithered back to the place he had originally arrived in, flicking the buttons on the podium with a trailing tentacle as he humped onto the big round platform and felt an odd tingling, heard a high whine, felt stretched halfway across the universe and back… back into himself, in a puddle of inky-black water inside the terminal in the lake, watching bipeds scatter in confusion from his sudden appearance among them.
Bert and Ernie looked up at the giant figure, and began climbing the dome wall, calling out in a monotonous tone, “Calamari…calamari…calamari…”
Bert and Ernie hollered out their war cry in unison as they fell onto the back of the large gelataneous creature, “Goddam mad dog gnaws wang! Goddam mad dog!!”
Squidnocket (that was the giant squid’s name, when he happened to feel the need for a name, which wasn’t often, but there you are) whipped a tentacle around one biped and lifted it into the air, studying its flailings with mild amusement.
“Too bad I hid a boot!” laughed the squid.
“Able was I, ere I saw Elba!” shouted Cheney, upside-down but defiantly, as he pulled out a DARPA-supplied laser pistol and fired directly at Squidnocket.
The laser beam sliced harmlessly through the gelatinous mass of uncooked calamari and struck Elvis as he tried to sneak up behind Squidnocket.
Of course, since Elvis was really Cheney, that meant that Cheney had shot himself…in the face.
Bert and Ernie found themselves chewing on the same tentacle; both knew that if he left for horseradish, his supposed friend would have eaten his share before he returned.
Squidnocket took a tentative nibble of the Cheney-biped he was holding and recoiled, nauseated, flinging the pistol-waving creature away so hard that the biped landed halfway up the terminal wall with a slimey-sounding SPLAT and oozed, gibbering, to the floor.
While Cheney’s guts oozed to a puddle on the terminal floor, Ruth Buzzi, being once successful with the ‘purse wallop’ decided to give it one more try, this time choosing to apply it to the ‘man’ who escorted her into this beastly den of carnivorous cartoonish characters with a great windup and a powerful swing equivalent to the inertia contained in an entire galaxy she struck the former VP in the back of the skull, causing his mask to fall off, revealing that Mr. Gore was really…
…Simon Cowell, the British judge from American Idol, who in his characteristic bored-with-it-all voice said, “Come on, Ruth, I know you can do better than that - that was just pathetic - very cabaret!”
David Merrick, mistaking this for a reference to the Broadway show (which, as one produced by his enemy Hal Prince, he hated with the fire of a hundred burning suns), muttered “agreed”, as he lit his pipe in a way that made him closely resemble Beelzebub.
Bert and Ernie, disgusted, pounced on Merrick and commenced to chewing open his skull.
Not pleased with the result, Ruth took another swing at Simon Cowell, hoping to dislodge yet another mask, this time she REALLY laid into it clobbering him square upside the head.
The blow knocked Mr. Cowell flat on his back, yet at the same time it did appear that another mask had been revealed and so with eager fingers to rip free the face of Simon, Ruth reached down…
…and revealed the glassy-eyed stare of Luke Skywalker.
“I love these things,” remarked Bert, “Crunchy on the outside, soft and chewy on the inside!”
Luke started up his light saber with one pull of the rope then spun around and said, “Listen, I happen to like who I am now, and I’m not going to let anyone change me!”, as he sliced the saber through the torso of Ms. Buzzi, reducing her once divine figure into a heap of frumpy clothes, clod-hopper shoes, a clumsily heavy purse, a wig, and pair of thigh-high nylons.