Hung Kung and the Holy War
The following takes place following: The View from the Bar
The Master heads outside and down the hill toward the cultists' camp. Seeing him approach, they all hurry to kneel before him.
Cult Leader: Master Devlin! You grace us with your presence! Hung kung!
Cultists: HUNG KUNG!
Master Devlin: My good men, thank you for being patient. Unfortunately, a great threat has decided to target us.
The Master points to the giant Sphinx being built, towering in the east.
Master Devlin: The evil parrot, Reg Van Der Beak, has enslaved good people just like you to worship him like a god. He intends to enslave us all as well.
Cult Leader: Indeed, the statue is blasphemous! An insult to our way of life.
Master Devlin: You must be prepared to defend yourselves. Therefore, I am asking that you participate in training for combat.
Everyone looks at one another.
Cult Leader: Your holiness? We are not soldiers...
Master Devlin: I know. But do you want to be enslaved by an evil dictator bird? This is not an order—it's a request.
One cultist raises his hand.
Master Devlin: Yes, son?
Cultist: Um, hi, your worship. I'm Ted from Weimar Park. Aren’t we already enslaved by an evil dictator? The mad little green warlord dude? Aren’t we, like, totally subjugated already?
Master Devlin: What? Him over there?
The Master points to Widdle Frunkut, who’s in the middle of trying to sell pocket watches to people on the estate.
Master Devlin: Does he look like some kind of dictator to you?
Cultist: Well, he is our warlord, supposedly...
Cultist #2: Your holiness, if I may, the good book you wrote says a whole lot about passing gas, butter, and sodomy... But it doesn’t say anything about violence or fighting...
Many other cultists nod in agreement.
Master Devlin: Well, firstly, I don’t really know where the “warlord” part came from. Second, as far as I am concerned, this place is a sanctuary for you. You are free to go as you please. However, for some reason, you see me as some kind of messiah. As for your holy text—I certainly didn’t write it. I haven’t even read it. I have an inkling of who did...
The cultists gasp and start becoming unsettled.
Master Devlin: Regardless, times have changed, and we are now in an extraordinary situation where our livelihood is at stake. So what do you want to do? Wait for Van Der Beak’s troops to come in, rape and enslave the women while the men are forced to watch? Or be prepared to fight back? I would choose the latter...
The cultists are agitated.
Master Devlin: On another note... are you people sodomising each other?
Cult Leader: Yes, of course. We use precious Dragon Brand butter as lubricant for all buggering. As it teaches in the good book that you wrote...
Master Devlin: I just told you, I didn’t write it.
Cult Leader: Please, your worshipfulness. There is no need to be modest. Anyway, most of us joined the Church of Sasoism at the now-abandoned gay club in West Wallywood. Master Bait... perhaps you know it?
Master Devlin: I've heard of it...
Cult Leader: I’m afraid the butter is growing quite scarce now. We've had to ration our daily orgies in recent weeks. Truth is, we were hoping you'd bring more butter with your prophesied return.
Master Devlin: I’m afraid I don’t have any with me. Supply chain problems due to the apocalypse, you understand...
Cult Leader: Yes. As a matter of fact, we do. Also... the truth of the matter is, my lord...
The cult leader approaches the Master and speaks softly.
Cult Leader: Most of us aren’t in fighting shape. We are all quite sick, actually. You see, with the apocalypse coming about... we’ve lost access to certain medications...
Master Devlin: Sick? What’s wrong with you?
The Cult Leader pulls out a WHS leaflet on an HIV treatment regimen with a list of drugs.
Master Devlin: Oh... Um...
Cult Leader: We've all got it. We were “bug chasers,” you see. Before the dark times. None of us worried about it before, thanks to the treatments available. It’s not like how it was back in the day... But now... well...
The leader brings a sickly-looking cultist over.
Cult Leader: This is Andy. Go on. Show him, Andy...
Andy takes off his robe and shows his lesions.
Cult Leader: I’m afraid this is quite typical now... for many of us. And only a matter of time for the rest. I know it doesn’t say it in the book, but it has been said that upon your return to the Waldoverse, you would cure all your followers... with a form of potent super dragon AIDS that will kill all other infections. We humbly beg this of you...
The cult leader throws off his robe. Bends over and presents his bottom.
Cult Leader: Please, your worshipfulness... Save us.
Master Devlin: I... um... I can’t do that. I’m afraid the warlord has fooled you. You see, he wrote the book. He is also incredibly homophobic...
Cult Leader: That... That can’t be true...
Master Devlin: Just a minute...
The Master goes over and grabs Waldo by the scruff.
wF: Unhinder me, Yankee!
The Master carries him over and holds him up toward the sick cultists. Waldo starts struggling and trying to run away while dangling in the air.
Master Devlin: Everyone, meet the self-proclaimed warlord... Widdle Frunkut. Waldo, meet this collection of gay men you have swindled.
wF: Ah yes... Cult freaks. How do you do, faggoons? Rather poorly, we take it...
Cult Leader: No... It cannot be so. This is some kind of test of faith!
Master Devlin: Afraid not. Tell me, the holy book—where did you get it?
Cult Leader: It was a moustached little green man in a police officer’s uniform. He came into the club with a batch of them.
Master Devlin: Little green man? Like this one?
Cult Leader: Well, um...
Master Devlin: May I see the book?
The cult leader hands the Master a copy. He opens the book.
Master Devlin: Ah, there we are... Goblin Brand Publishing Ltd... Also, he signed every copy.
The Master points to the “WF” scribbled on the front page.
Master Devlin: Widdle Frunkut. You’ve been tricked, I’m afraid.
Cult Leader: But the prophecy? You’re here! You returned! All the details match... Hung kung?
Master Devlin: I’m always here. It’s nothing unusual. I just went away on business for two weeks.
Cult Leader: But...
Master Devlin: The book is all just lies and nonsense written by this evil little goblin... Do what you wish with him.
The Master hands the goblin to the cult leader.
Master Devlin: Take your revenge as you see fit, but I’m afraid there is no cure for what you have...
Cult Leader: You... lied to us? We’re dying!?
wF: Get off, filth! It’s your own degenerate behaviour that caused it anyway... Waldo never gave you all AIDS!
Waldo starts struggling like a cat. The weak cult leader drops him and Waldo scurries off. The leader then slumps to the ground, a broken man. Defeated...
Cult Leader: He’s right, you know... We did this to ourselves... then we were looking for a way out. Rather than accepting responsibility...
The crowd starts to disperse.
Master Devlin: Oh well. I mean, you are all dying. You might as well go out with honour. Kamikaze style.
Cult Leader: I suppose. What do we have to lose? What would you have us do?
Master Devlin: Suicide bombing. Infiltrate Van Der Beak territory. For starters, we destroy that Sphinx...
Cult Leader: Oh... I see... Um. Okay. I suppose we could do that. Only... we don’t know anything about bombs. Bums, on the other hand...
Master Devlin: Stick the bombs up your bottoms, then.
Some time later:
Pharaoh Khufu Van Der Beak is livid. Outraged by the news just delivered by a messenger slave. In a fit of fury, he pecks out the messenger’s eyes.
The report? His prized statue was bombed not half an hour ago. The culprits: terrorists dressed in pointy purple robes. Sasoist cultists.
Moments later, another nervous messenger enters with more bad news. The Bird House barracks — home to a third of Van Der Beak’s army — has also been destroyed. Along with several key supply routes and critical infrastructure.
Then, a pigeon flies through the open window, carrying a note.
Reg reads it:
"My condolences to hear about your beloved statue. Let me know if there’s anything that we can do.Your friend, Steven"
Season 5 continues in Guerrillas in the Mist