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By Richard Moore
Jase said, rashly, "I swear I heard something there... <looks around> nah! must be a figment of my imagination"
He hears a splintering and creaking, turns round to see door jambs disintegrate as 8 foot slavering killer hamster in studded leather crashes ponderously through, menacingly swinging a Genuine (TM) Harley Davidson (R) Soap-on-a-rope (in a sock).
After a momentary mixture of fear (you don't often see 8ft killer hamsters) and disbelief (well not in HD studded leather jock straps anyway) flashing through his mind he looks to the cages stacked against the walls and cries "up and at him my furry army" as the multitude of small white mice swarm his nemesis, Captain Potato, Jase dives from the house, past his alter egos car (parked neatly up a street light) and jumps on his trusty Bavarian steed. But will it outrun Captain Potato's pile of Milwaulkee iron...?
Brushing mice from his nemesis and striding to the rail here his steed was tethered, Captain Potato-Hamster thrust his soap-on-a- rope into its holster alongside the petrol tanks and kicked the beast into life. As the bike leaped rhythmically up and down around the pistons he engaged first with a clang.
Hurtling up the dusty street with the onrush of a steam train, at 2 thousand throbbing revs in pursuit of a sweating Jase on a small, bendy bring-ding-dinging thing, his vision was suddenly obscured as a large cat that had been asleep in the tool roll leaped up and struck him upside down in the face, digging its claws into his ears...
Meanwhile Jase seeing Captain Potato-hampster in dire trouble starts to make good his escape, each corner acompanied by the scraping sound as he grinds his flat-twin's heads into the tarmac. Coming round a fast right-hander disaster strikes! The continual scraping on the heads has worn them down too far and now his steed starts streaming oil though a holed rocker-cover...
Meanwhile back with Captain Potato-Hampster......
...meanwhile indeed, Jase's bike has transformed itself once more, Dr Who style, into an MZ, and as Captain Potato wobbles wildly and blindly round the corner Jase begins his kickwhumphohbuggeritsahighcompressionbloodyMZ bloodyengineandIgotitwrongbloodyOW" traditional leaping and hopping dance. The cat, startled and still upside down, pisses into our (well, my) hero's mouth, but being brought up on a diet of Australia's finest he barely notices. The mighty iron thing continues straight as a die into the nearest field, startling a pair of scoobys fondling each other ineptly in a furrow.
Captain potato-hamsters Mighty Steed continues across the field (plowing a *perfect* furrow as it does so) through another hedge, straight across a road through a parked c*r and onto a side road, arms straining from the effort the Captain finally brings his American juganaught down from the giddy hights of 20mph to a standstill. Able now to take his hands off the bars (he was worried earlier they might vibrate off if he took his hands way) he pry's the cats claws from his face before he can finally remove the cat (and some rather large pieces of skin). Captain Potato-Hamster turns his 5 ton bike round with nothing more than a 24point turn, one panic and a near spill. Kicking his Trac^H^H^H^Hmighty steed into 1st he sets off again in lukewarm pursuit of jase...
Meanwhile with nothing more than a fractured shin Jase has finaly managed to start his high performance machine...
...a fearful chimaera, fused obscenely by some automotive Dr Moreau from the shuddering corpses of an MZ, an MZ an MZ and, er, 6 other MZs.
Still shuddering from the previous writer's erratic transatlantic orthography, he shot horizontally round the corner past the gunshop in the sleepy western town, and unable to avoid the saloon in front of him he crashed through the wooden boarding next to the traditional swinging doors, slid across the floor and came to rest in a crumpled heap against the bar, AT WHICH A NUMBER OF CHARACTERS WERE DRINKING
<PROMPT!>
Bedecked in designer Italian Cowboy wear, 'Slim' Gene Rankin, and Elly(son) The Kid, turned from their grappa, and stared at the apparition on the sawdust and spit covered floor. The journey through the splintered wooden doors had removed various pieces of Jase's anatomy, one piece of which had landed in Slim's drink. Elly The Kid hissed through gritted teeth "This here's Doocativille, Hawg boy, you got no business in this goddam bar". He raised a bleeding stump, and pointed at Slim's drink "Ah've come fer ma Paw"
Hey bud drawled the kid "this ain't no Hawg, this is one of them there kraut bikes". "Nah" slurred Slim, "this here's seven of them there kraut bikes". At this moment Hoss Lowe rumbled out of the jon, "what we got here boys?" They looked up and out at him, "what we got here, is one of them Gebhardt posse. Silence reigned, plot rushed in.
Mad Corn Dog Dave appeared at the top of the stairs a glint in his eye. "Not that there Gebhardt posse which has been buying up all the failing farms, pollutin' the water supply, Fiddlin with the wimmin at Kat's high class joint and eatin' all the pies?" "Yup" "Wait, hear that noise, it's the Gebhardt posse, it's showdown time..."
No it isn't, it's Captain Potato a-rumbling and a-riding through the swing doors, pointing his fingers at Mad Corn Dog Dave and drawling "Pow, pow, pow. Ppttwanng. You can't hit me, I'm invisible. I'm invisible."
<Enter a number of dusky maidens, fresh and dripping from the shower>