Maeby's Cannon: Brikwars Chat: The Novelization
Emperor Harlek of the MASS banged the goblet on the table before him as sort of makeshift gavel. He had assembled this meeting in the hopes of improving relations between the Allied Nations and the Third Alliance and perhaps getting feedback on his latest novel, but it seemed to be failing miserably.
The four delegates and the one empty chair were arranged in a pentagon. Emperor Harlek sat with a small dais and work-in-progress-book in front of him, wearing a magnificently ornate black helmet and military dress uniform. Siri, next to Harlek, was dressed in her usual red jacket and held that garish golden beamsaber. Across from her was Grand Admiral Dilanski, the supreme leader of the Praetorian Empire, in his regally dark blue armor and wild blond hair, intent green eyes staring down at Siri. In the middle was a mysterious Venetian figure wearing a Death Mask who refused to identify himself, apart from “Egwene”. Kaiser Klaus von Fynnvaria, as usual, was late.
“So, are international meetings always like this? I was told this was the second-best bi-chat in the brikverse.” Egwene asked.
“Well you see,” Harlek replied. “It wouldn’t have devolved this badly if they had just taken up on my idea of editing my newest story. It’s like Avatar the Last Airbender, only with a life and light tribe and a guy who can shoot crystals. I need help writing a drinking song for it.”
“Well actually” interrupted Siri. “I’m against bisexuals. But since I’m the leader of Trattoria, I will treat you in a friendly manner anyway. Unless you bring up TPS, in which case you’re fucked.”
Silence reigned in the room, except for dilanski, who had to stifle laughter.
“Well she’s actually asexual, which means she’s against everything, really” said Emperor Harlek.
“Is there a word for a racist against everyone?” inquired Egwene.
“My mom?” Siri suggested.
“That’s too words Ms. Smarty Pants” retorted Egwene.
“Douchebag?” offered Emperor Harlek. He was seriously irritated by the conduct of the delegates. Siri had been sharing disturbing stories with Dilanski, and they made his stomach crawl. He had a perfectly good book in front of him that he wanted feedback on, and those idiots destroyed their minds with that crap instead?
“YOU LINKED IT?” screamed Siri.
“Knock yourself out, literally” Dilanski warned Egwene. Egwene had inquired about a certain story that Siri refused to share, so Dilanski had contacted the Praetorian Intelligence Division to find it and print copies for everyone at the meeting.
By now Siri was getting up from her chair.
“YOU COCKSUCKING GODAMN MOTHERFUCKING SON OF A FUCKING FÁGGOT MAGGOT” she cursed as she put her hands around Dilanski’s neck and started choking him.
“YOLO” he replied through the few breaths he could get out.
“Bollocks” muttered Harlek.
“Does she have Tourettes or something?” inquired Egwene.
“GODDAMN YOU TO HELL AND LET YOU SUCK SATAN'S DICK YOU FUCKING ballerina” she continued to shriek, lost in a mad fit of temporary insanity. “NEVER BRING UP TPS EVER AGAIN”
“I don’t even know” said Harlek, defeated.
“JKFRNJKRHIHFKSAJKHJRGALKJRKLJRGLKADHLGRSHDLRKJGLKHDZLKHKJJZFXKLGJZKLGFJSKLJLGKXF, RHRAJGDAKLJKLDJLGKJS, AGDSFADGDHTGFSGFSH.” At this point Siri stopped speaking coherently and began to degenerate into random noises.
“You sure use a lot of sex-curses for an asexual” pointed out Egwene.
“She has a nickname in the Third Alliance high command” Harlek clarified. “‘Get Psycho’. She earned it.”
“Do it, Studs for the Stud God” declared Dilanski.
“Well, I don’t read these you know, I just stole them off a compilation.” Siri desperately try to exonerate herself from the terrible reading material that she had distributed to the meeting.
“Studs?” inquired Egwene. “You guys a body-builders organization or something?”.
“No, it’s a unit of measurement in the brikverse” replied Siri in her typical matter-of-fact manner.
“Well in Venice we call them nipples” replied Egwene, imitating Siri’s tone.
Siri cupped her face in her hands.
Kaiser Klaus von Fynnvaria entered the room, towering over the other delegates.
“So, Egwene, who exactly are you?”
The meeting then spent an hour guessing with the name of every significant leader of the brikverse.
“So far they’ve told me that they have a fetishist, a semi-stalker, Siri, a cool lesbian, a Piltogg, and a skull-fucker/sheep-fucker.”
“All in good sport” replied Siri.
Kaiser Klaus glanced at his Windows phone, seeing a new message from Bavarian Intelligence. He opened it up, stared quizzically at Egwene, before putting the phone back in his pocket.
“You are Scratch.”
Egwene then took off his Death Mask, revealing a massive globe.
“I told you not to google it” he growled angrily.
Harlek, Klaus, and Scratch were civilly discussing fantasy books.
“Maybe this meeting has some hope after all” thought Emperor Harlek to himself.
Siri then stood up, loudly proclaiming “Lord Shadowscythe is Klaus’s waifu!”
Kaiser Klaus crossed his arms. “If you ship me I’ll ship you. You and Major Natalya.”
Siri retorted “I thought Major Natalya belonged to Whiteagle, the supreme leader of Briktoid Automata.”
The discussion then devolved back to its previous degenerate state, involving shipping and terrible fanfiction.
“And the poop is shaped like pwnies!” Scratch cheerfully suggested.
Emperor Harlek snatched the book off of the dais in front of him, pushing it deeply into his bag.
“I can no longer in good conscience share Shard with this room tonight.” The perverted and messed up leaders of the brikverse had defeated him. They had defiled this meeting, their minds, and their souls, and he would not allow such moral corrosion to destroy his precious work of fiction.
“We really fucked up didn’t we?”. It was a rhetorical question that Siri knew the answer too, as if she came to some epiphany.
“I was the innocent one-” Scratch protested.
“We need to fuck up more” declared Dilanski with an evil grin and a glint in his green eyes.
“-for the first ten minutes” finished Scratch.
To be continued.
Because everything's better with math...and firepower.