All-Stars IV: Ferberus vs. Candy Desserts & Steve the Volleyball

[Viola Moonlight]

Deadline is Friday, February 13th at 11:59PM CST. Extensions available upon request.

 

[Spidey Revivey]

Picture it: Locker Room. All-Stars IV.​

Furberus: We talk at the same time, always.

Hey Look An Interviewer: Ooookay. Didn't ask, but alright. Sooo how does it feel to be a part of All-Stars IV?

Furberus: We love WZCW. In fact, we used to work here at one time.

HLAI: Really? I don't recall a tag team quite like you two. Especially one that finishes each other's sentences...you both sound like William Shatner.

Furberus: Yes. It is quite disarming, isn't it? The great Ramparte is a guy that tries to get inside his opponents' heads with splendid mindfuckery like this. And the wonderful Flex Mussel, God that he is, overpowers his enemies through discipline. We furries abide by Cerberus's teachings. And we will dominate the volleyball and the Candyman, Candyperson, whatever.

HLAI: I admit, I'm creeped out. Is there something you'd like to share with Cerberus - your idols?

Furberus: Did they get the hand lotion we sent them?

HLAI: Hand lotion?

Furberus: It's a perfectly fine gift to give, whoever you are.

HLAI: My name is Jeff.

Furberus: It doesn't matter what your name is.

HLAI: I didn't know furries were so rude.

Furberus: You're generalizing, and that's not cool. Eat a large salad, you dickfucker.

HLAI: I...what?

Furberus: Scandinavian jock jumper you cradler of abnormally small toothbrushes. You ever stick your pecker out at a carnival? Bet you have. Sicko.

HLAI: Are...are we still having a conversation at this point?

Furberus: We are. Now bend over and place your hands against the wall. Furberus is going to dry hump them all. Namaste.

HLAI: I think we've talked enough. Good luck against Wilson and the Candyland character.

Furberus: We don't need no education. We don't need no thought control. No dark sarcasm in the classroom. Teachers leave them kids alone. Hey, teachers!! Leave the kids alone!! All in all you're just another brick in the wall.

HLAI: I'm going to go now. *leaves the locker room*

Furberus: Oh thank god that's over. I hate interviews.

*The dog costumed furry takes his head off. It's Dillon Morse. The gorilla pulls his off as well, and it's James Aubrey. The two former referees share a look with one another.*

Morse: Do you think our charade will end Cerberus?

Aubrey: I hope so, Dillon. Gods above, I hope so.

Morse: We will be the laughingstock WZCW needs. Together, as furries, we will yiff the world. You hear me?? Yiff. The. World.

Aubrey: Children might be watching, Dillon...

Morse: They watch The Discovery Channel, don't they? We should be fine.

*Dillon Morse puts his head back on.*

Morse: Let's do this. Surely we'll get our jobs back if we are totally fucking adorable and hilarious out there.

Aubrey: Of course. That's how wrestling works. Either someone wins a match for us or we must fight for it. Can't get rehired unless that happens. That's the real world.

*James Aubrey slips his head on.*

Aubrey: Hail Furberus?

Morse: Hail Furberus!

Furberus: Hail Furberus!!!

 

[Viola Moonlight]

Candy: Hello everyone!

Everyone: Hello!

Candy: My name is Candy Desserts and despite clearly being a woman with very large and great tasting milk duds, you can call me the Candyman and I bring joy & happiness to the world by providing it with candy. Unlike Santa or the Easter Bunny, I don't have my own special day but who needs their own special day when we can enjoy some too sweet treats every day? I'm just too sweet to be restricted to only one day a year.

Candy holds up the "Too Sweet" symbol as she reaches in a jar full of chocolate-covered licorice, pulling out more than a handful.

Candy: That's right, I'm a member of the Candy Bullet Club!

She shoves it all down her mouth and smashes it down.

Candy: Seriously though, who doesn't want to suck on my candy? Even I like sucking on my own candy.

Candy pulls out a lollipop, puts it in her mouth seductively and sucks it hard. She winks to the camera and begins walking down the Streets - get it, because they're an ice-cream company - to patrol the world.

Candy: On any regular day of candy worship, I'll take you to the candy shop and let you lick my lollipop. But, this is a day of Valentine where a lot of lonely candy hearts without any sweetness of their own wandering the world in search of something to numb the pain of a single toothache... and I'll be darn-tooting if I let these people go see the dentist to fix their problems.

Candy walks up to a couple of people sitting on a bench on opposite sides, looking all side and candiless. Desserts puts her hands on her hips, shaking her head at the terrible sight.

Candy: It's these wallies without lollies that really make me unhappy and it's the Candyman's job to sprinkle them with a gaytime! It doesn't matter if you're a nerd or a cookie cutter person, everybody deserves to enjoy some excellent candy.

She pulls out the popular Australian ice-cream, one for each person, handing them out. All of a sudden, the clouds hovering above these two turn into a sunshine, causing them to smile brighter than the sun. They give each other the "Too Sweet" gesture before Candy moves on.

Candy: But what makes me more mad than that is seeing people steal candy away from others! It boils my candy veins.

At this time, a disgusting excuse for a human being runs up and snatches the awesome candy from these two people, running away.

Candy: Those damn Willy Wankers! They'd literally take candy from babies if they could. However, he won't get away so easily.

Out of thin air, Candy pulls out her best friend "Yummy" Candy Pipe [Sandy's signature rusted steel pipe poorly painted like a candy cane] and begins chasing after the wretched waste of life at lightning speed. She's running so fast, sprinkles and skittles spray out behind her, scattering across the road. Eventually, she crash-tackles him to the ground, beating him with her personalised candy cane.

Rob the Gobstopper Robber: Stop! I'm sorry. Here, take it back.

When she's done, she walks back over to the two people and hands back their sweets. She also hands them each their own personalised "candy cane."

Candy: Another candy gob officially stopped by the Candyman. Now, you two can seek out some sweet revenge by destroying his chocolate salty balls.

The two people smile and run off, beating the crap out of the gob-stopper robber in the background as Candy faces the camera.

Candy: Even though I could go home and relax with a tub full of coloured jelly-beans - because the Candyman is progressive and not racist - my work isn't done. There are many sour grapes like Rob over there, like the tandem that refer to themselves as Furberus.

She shakes her head.

Candy: Hugable toys covered in fur were designed to be hugged by little kids and babies with the intentions of instilling hope and joy, not to be worn by a couple of people who wish they were hugable toys covered in fur were designed to be hugged by little kids and babies with the intentions of instilling hope and joy. That's a felony and the Sheriff of Candyland is going to make sure they get their just desserts. Along with my friendly partner Professor Steven Kurtesy the Volleyball, we will stop Furberus from their plans of candy domination and promote a free and bountiful candyland for all!

Candy gives a thumbs up.

Candy: You can take that to the bankery... and if Furberus think they can get away with it, then I dare them to make my sundae... punks!

Candy waves the camera and gives a "Too Sweet" hand gesture before turning around, taking part in one of the most joyous and fun beatings as she and the two people continue smacking Rob the Gobstopper Robber into a sugar-induced coma.

 

[Kermit]

Edgar Allen Steve the Volleyball​

THE thousand injuries of Ferberus I, Steve the Volleyball, had borne as I best could, but when he ventured upon insult I vowed revenge. You, who so well know the nature of my soul, will not suppose, however, that gave utterance to a threat. At length I would be avenged; this was a point definitely, settled --but the very definitiveness with which it was resolved precluded the idea of risk. I must not only punish but punish with impunity. A wrong is unredressed when retribution overtakes its redresser. It is equally unredressed when the avenger fails to make himself felt as such to him who has done the wrong.

It must be understood that neither by word nor deed had I given Ferberus cause to doubt my good will. I continued, as was my in to smile in his face, and he did not perceive that my to smile now was at the thought of his immolation.

He had a weak point --this Ferberus --although in other regards he was a man to be respected and even feared. He prided himself on his connoisseurship in wine. Few Italians have the true virtuoso spirit. For the most part their enthusiasm is adopted to suit the time and opportunity, to practise imposture upon the British and Austrian millionaires. In painting and gemmary, Ferberus, like his countrymen, was a quack, but in the matter of old wines he was sincere. In this respect I did not differ from him materially; --I was skilful in the Italian vintages myself, and bought largely whenever I could.

It was about dusk, one evening during the supreme madness of the carnival season, that I encountered my friend. He accosted me with excessive warmth, for he had been drinking much. The man wore motley. He had on a tight-fitting parti-striped dress, and his head was surmounted by the conical cap and bells. I was so pleased to see him that I thought I should never have done wringing his hand.

I said to him --"My dear Ferberus, you are luckily met. How remarkably well you are looking to-day. But I have received a pipe of what passes for Amontillado, and I have my doubts."

"How?" said he. "Amontillado, A pipe? Impossible! And in the middle of the carnival!"

"I have my doubts," I replied; "and I was silly enough to pay the full Amontillado price without consulting you in the matter. You were not to be found, and I was fearful of losing a bargain."

"Amontillado!"

"I have my doubts."

"Amontillado!"

"And I must satisfy them."

"Amontillado!"

"As you are engaged, I am on my way to Luchresi. If any one has a critical turn it is he. He will tell me --"

"Luchresi cannot tell Amontillado from Sherry."

"And yet some fools will have it that his taste is a match for your own.

"Come, let us go."

"Whither?"

"To your vaults."

"My friend, no; I will not impose upon your good nature. I perceive you have an engagement. Luchresi--"

"I have no engagement; --come."

"My friend, no. It is not the engagement, but the severe cold with which I perceive you are afflicted. The vaults are insufferably damp. They are encrusted with nitre."

"Let us go, nevertheless. The cold is merely nothing. Amontillado! You have been imposed upon. And as for Luchresi, he cannot distinguish Sherry from Amontillado."

Thus speaking, Ferberus possessed himself of my arm; and putting on a mask of black silk and drawing a roquelaire closely about my person, I suffered him to hurry me to my palazzo.

There were no attendants at home; they had absconded to make merry in honour of the time. I had told them that I should not return until the morning, and had given them explicit orders not to stir from the house.

These orders were sufficient, I well knew, to insure their immediate disappearance, one and all, as soon as my back was turned.

I took from their sconces two flambeaux, and giving one to Ferberus, bowed him through several suites of rooms to the archway that led into the vaults. I passed down a long and winding staircase, requesting him to be cautious as he followed. We came at length to the foot of the descent, and stood together upon the damp ground of the catacombs of the Montresors.

The gait of my friend was unsteady, and the bells upon his cap jingled as he strode.

"The pipe," he said.

"It is farther on," said I; "but observe the white web-work which gleams from these cavern walls."

He turned towards me, and looked into my eves with two filmy orbs that distilled the rheum of intoxication.

"Nitre?" he asked, at length.

"Nitre," I replied. "How long have you had that cough?"

"Ugh! ugh! ugh! --ugh! ugh! ugh! --ugh! ugh! ugh! --ugh! ugh! ugh! --ugh! ugh! ugh!"

My poor friend found it impossible to reply for many minutes.

"It is nothing," he said, at last.

"Come," I said, with decision, "we will go back; your health is precious. You are rich, respected, admired, beloved; you are happy, as once I was. You are a man to be missed. For me it is no matter. We will go back; you will be ill, and I cannot be responsible. Besides, there is Luchresi --"

"Enough," he said; "the cough's a mere nothing; it will not kill me. I shall not die of a cough."

"True --true," I replied; "and, indeed, I had no intention of alarming you unnecessarily --but you should use all proper caution. A draught of this Medoc will defend us from the damps.

Here I knocked off the neck of a bottle which I drew from a long row of its fellows that lay upon the mould.

"Drink," I said, presenting him the wine. He raised it to his lips with a leer. He paused and nodded to me familiarly, while his bells jingled.

"I drink," he said, "to the buried that repose around us."

"And I to your long life."

He again took my arm, and we proceeded.

"These vaults," he said, "are extensive."

"The Montresors," I replied, "were a great and numerous family."

"I forget your arms."

"A huge human foot d'or, in a field azure; the foot crushes a serpent rampant whose fangs are imbedded in the heel."

"And the motto?"

"Nemo me impune lacessit."

"Good!" he said.

The wine sparkled in his eyes and the bells jingled. My own fancy grew warm with the Medoc. We had passed through long walls of piled skeletons, with casks and puncheons intermingling, into the inmost recesses of the catacombs. I paused again, and this time I made bold to seize Ferberus by an arm above the elbow.

"The nitre!" I said; "see, it increases. It hangs like moss upon the vaults. We are below the river's bed. The drops of moisture trickle among the bones. Come, we will go back ere it is too late. Your cough --"

"It is nothing," he said; "let us go on. But first, another draught of the Medoc."

I broke and reached him a flagon of De Grave. He emptied it at a breath. His eyes flashed with a fierce light. He laughed and threw the bottle upwards with a gesticulation I did not understand.

I looked at him in surprise. He repeated the movement --a grotesque one.

"You do not comprehend?" he said.

"Not I," I replied.

"Then you are not of the brotherhood."

"How?"

"You are not of the masons."

"Yes, yes," I said; "yes, yes."

"You? Impossible! A mason?"

"A mason," I replied.

"A sign," he said, "a sign."

"It is this," I answered, producing from beneath the folds of my roquelaire a trowel.

"You jest," he exclaimed, recoiling a few paces. "But let us proceed to the Amontillado."

"Be it so," I said, replacing the tool beneath the cloak and again offering him my arm. He leaned upon it heavily. We continued our route in search of the Amontillado. We passed through a range of low arches, descended, passed on, and descending again, arrived at a deep crypt, in which the foulness of the air caused our flambeaux rather to glow than flame.

At the most remote end of the crypt there appeared another less spacious. Its walls had been lined with human remains, piled to the vault overhead, in the fashion of the great catacombs of Paris. Three sides of this interior crypt were still ornamented in this manner. From the fourth side the bones had been thrown down, and lay promiscuously upon the earth, forming at one point a mound of some size. Within the wall thus exposed by the displacing of the bones, we perceived a still interior crypt or recess, in depth about four feet, in width three, in height six or seven. It seemed to have been constructed for no especial use within itself, but formed merely the interval between two of the colossal supports of the roof of the catacombs, and was backed by one of their circumscribing walls of solid granite.

It was in vain that Ferberus, uplifting his dull torch, endeavoured to pry into the depth of the recess. Its termination the feeble light did not enable us to see.

"Proceed," I said; "herein is the Amontillado. As for Luchresi --"

"He is an ignoramus," interrupted my friend, as he stepped unsteadily forward, while I followed immediately at his heels. In niche, and finding an instant he had reached the extremity of the niche, and finding his progress arrested by the rock, stood stupidly bewildered. A moment more and I had fettered him to the granite. In its surface were two iron staples, distant from each other about two feet, horizontally. From one of these depended a short chain, from the other a padlock. Throwing the links about his waist, it was but the work of a few seconds to secure it. He was too much astounded to resist. Withdrawing the key I stepped back from the recess.

"Pass your hand," I said, "over the wall; you cannot help feeling the nitre. Indeed, it is very damp. Once more let me implore you to return. No? Then I must positively leave you. But I must first render you all the little attentions in my power."

"The Amontillado!" ejaculated my friend, not yet recovered from his astonishment.

"True," I replied; "the Amontillado."

As I said these words I busied myself among the pile of bones of which I have before spoken. Throwing them aside, I soon uncovered a quantity of building stone and mortar. With these materials and with the aid of my trowel, I began vigorously to wall up the entrance of the niche.

I had scarcely laid the first tier of the masonry when I discovered that the intoxication of Ferberus had in a great measure worn off. The earliest indication I had of this was a low moaning cry from the depth of the recess. It was not the cry of a drunken man. There was then a long and obstinate silence. I laid the second tier, and the third, and the fourth; and then I heard the furious vibrations of the chain. The noise lasted for several minutes, during which, that I might hearken to it with the more satisfaction, I ceased my labours and sat down upon the bones. When at last the clanking subsided, I resumed the trowel, and finished without interruption the fifth, the sixth, and the seventh tier. The wall was now nearly upon a level with my breast. I again paused, and holding the flambeaux over the mason-work, threw a few feeble rays upon the figure within.

A succession of loud and shrill screams, bursting suddenly from the throat of the chained form, seemed to thrust me violently back. For a brief moment I hesitated, I trembled. Unsheathing my rapier, I began to grope with it about the recess; but the thought of an instant reassured me. I placed my hand upon the solid fabric of the catacombs, and felt satisfied. I reapproached the wall; I replied to the yells of him who clamoured. I re-echoed, I aided, I surpassed them in volume and in strength. I did this, and the clamourer grew still.

It was now midnight, and my task was drawing to a close. I had completed the eighth, the ninth and the tenth tier. I had finished a portion of the last and the eleventh; there remained but a single stone to be fitted and plastered in. I struggled with its weight; I placed it partially in its destined position. But now there came from out the niche a low laugh that erected the hairs upon my head. It was succeeded by a sad voice, which I had difficulty in recognizing as that of the noble Ferberus. The voice said--

"Ha! ha! ha! --he! he! he! --a very good joke, indeed --an excellent jest. We will have many a rich laugh about it at the palazzo --he! he! he! --over our wine --he! he! he!"

"The Amontillado!" I said.

"He! he! he! --he! he! he! --yes, the Amontillado. But is it not getting late? Will not they be awaiting us at the palazzo, the Lady Ferberus and the rest? Let us be gone."

"Yes," I said, "let us be gone."

"For the love of God, Montresor!"

"Yes," I said, "for the love of God!"

But to these words I hearkened in vain for a reply. I grew impatient. I called aloud --

"Ferberus!"

No answer. I called again --

"Ferberus!"

No answer still. I thrust a torch through the remaining aperture and let it fall within. There came forth in return only a jingling of the bells. My heart grew sick; it was the dampness of the catacombs that made it so. I hastened to make an end of my labour. I forced the last stone into its position; I plastered it up. Against the new masonry I re-erected the old rampart of bones. For the half of a century no mortal has disturbed them. In pace requiescat!

THE END