Gw Temp


Article - 'KTT's Community Story (Chapter 2)' by kermit the toad

An item about Humour posted on Jun 14, 2005


Chapter 2: Fatty continues searching for Doug Beach. Meanwhile, back at GW Headquarters, Tony Danza shows up. "Who's the Boss, bitch?"


Canada: land of snow and ice. Across this arctic wasteland, a lone warrior wanders, heading into the harsh northern winds. Cold snow bites his face. He quickly comes to understand why the Inuit often look years older than they actually are. This cold winter air ages a man before his time. He finds his thoughts drifting south—to Florida—but knows that he must press on. It is because of what happened in the warmth of Florida that he must wander the arctic wastes. He is Fatty, and he is searching for Doug Beach. Justice will be served. Suki will be avenged. Revenge, as the Klingons say, is a dish best served cold.


Back in Ontario, at GW Headquarters, the heroic ninja killer, Polski, is basking in the fruits of his labour. Having slain the ninjas Doug Beach sent to destroy GW, Polski’s followers have declared him “King Serious Business,” and showered him with gifts as small as kisses on the hand, and as large as kilograms upon kilograms of cocaine, laid out in line after white line on the bodies of over a dozen dead hookers.

Line after line of smack goes up the noses of Polski and the GW Staff. Their minds are a buzz. The room begins to spin, and the walls begin to bleed watercolours. Manic laughter surrounds them, and they are unsure whether it is coming from their own mouths, or the mouths of the prostitutes. Random acts of homosexuality break out around the room. A circle jerk takes centre stage, but the white powder they shoved up their noses has rendered the crew impotent. And then, he appears—Tony Danza, laughing like a manic, all the while shouting, “Who’s the Boss, bitch!”


In the snow-covered fields of Eastern Canada, Fatty stops, drops to the ground, and digs himself into the hard-packed snowdrifts that surround him on the wind-swept plain. In his white jacket, he becomes nearly invisible, buried underneath snow and white clothing. He spots motion in the distance. Just as he thought: two ninjas have been tracking him. He remains still beneath the snow, hoping they will pass him by. Unfortunately, luck is not on his side today.

The ninjas charge his position, swords drawn, and toss two throwing stars toward him. Fatty bursts forth from his snowy hiding spot, catching one of the stars, and dodging the other and, in a single, continuous motion, fires the caught star back at his adversaries. The enemy dodges the star, but the distraction buys Fatty enough time to draw his sword before Doug Beach’s assassins are upon him.

Metal strikes metal as Fatty spars with two armed ninjas. Three bodies, spinning like whirlwinds, kicking up snow, swing swords like madmen. In the distance, a man on a snowmobile watches the scene unfold, and can see little more than a white cloud of snow, and an occasional streak of red as blood is drawn. A death cry echoes for miles as a warrior falls, and only two men remain standing. Fatty does his best to catch his breath, having exhausted himself trying to fend off two ninjas at once. Though he has defeated one, he wonders if he has the endurance to survive the second. The two warriors pause, each sizing the other up, and then jump back into the fray. One-on-one now, they swing their swords, causing the sound of metal-upon-metal to echoes across the vast arctic wastes—audible from Vancouver, all the way to Signal Hill.

Unfortunately for Fatty, luck is not on his side today. The ninja swings downward, and severs Fatty’s right arm at the shoulder. The champion shouts in pain, and falls to his knees, clutching at his gapping wound. The ninja raises his sword above his head, and prepares to behead Fatty—and is immediately shot dead. Out of the blur of snow, a man in a red coat dismounts from his snowmobile, gun drawn, and shoots the ninja a second time, between the eyes, to make sure the job is finished. He then turns his attention to Fatty.


“Who’s the Boss, bitch? Who’s the fucking Boss?” Danza had lost it. Where he had come from, no one was sure. One thing was certain, though, he was out of his mind, and he was thirsty for blood—literally. He snapped the neck of Polski’s younger brother—killing him instantly—and sunk his teeth into the flesh, drawing the warm blood into his mouth.

The sight of Tony Danza, shouting “Who’s the Boss?” at the top of his lungs, with a face covered in the blood of Polski’s younger brother was, to say the least, terrifying. Somewhere, a high-pitched, girlish voice screamed, “What the hell are we going to do? What the hell are we going to do without Fatty to save us?” It was Polski. The sight of his brother being killed by a vampiric Tony Danza was too much for him. He had gone from GW’s ultimate champion, to sissy girl in mere seconds.


What would they do without Fatty, now that Bart had panicked? Would a hero rise up and kill Tony Danza, or would he slaughter all of GW’s top staffers? What will happen to Tony? Will the man in red turn out to be a Mountie, ready to save Fatty’s life, or Doug Beach himself, posing as a Mountie, in order to trick Fatty into doing the evil bidding of the very man he was trying to kill? You decide! Go to the poll for the next chapter to decide what will happen next.