the days of our bucket

A stunned silence followed Misty’s abrupt disappearance. Just as suddenly O’Kyle started to scream like a teenage trailertrash chick losing her virginity at a Kid Rock concert, while being on acid. It was quite a sight to behold. O was simply staring at the big cavernous hole in the ceiling, silently clutching his pearls, while Psy was nibbling on Hierynomous’s tail. It was all too much for the poor bucketeers. If only they knew that at that very moment General DeadasHell was giving his masked troops the go-ahead to enter the empty palace. Empty simply because the blissful presence of Misty Rockchild was filling the air no more. And as O’Kyle’s bitter sobs echoed through the dark passages, the childlike men entered through the steel gates…

The troop commander, a man named Pubert deVille-Milton III, took his gasmask off silently… almost like a ghost. He and his troops have been dead since the 1940’s and as Zombies have been in the service of various demented schemers and wannabe world dominators. Pubert was a man… eh… zombie of great patience, but under the command of the wicked Stef Gwenani he has grown tired of following these fools’ stupid and extremely elaborate plans. He had plans of his own. And nobody was gonna stop him. Not even Stef. A worm crawled across the rotting flesh of his face and Pubert absentmindedly slurped it into his mouth. Tired. So tired… he thought as the slightly salty worm escaped through the gaping hole in his throat. The bucketeers and the idiotic Stef Gwenani were gonna pay for all the pain he and his troops have experienced over the past 70 years. Yes… pay…

5 minutes earlier: Across the Bucketland, an exhausted Princess P opened her eyes only to see the treacherous O'Foxy. But something was wrong… why did she have such a leering smile on her face? And why… oh dear god why… was she picking up this week’s issue of Heat Magazine? And is that… that (NOOOOOOOOoooooO!) a copy of Bucket Enquirer as well? Princess P started to sob as O'Foxy started to read long and insipid passages from both these magazines until P thought she would rather surrender than listen ANY LONGER to the story of 17 year old Billy-Bob from Bucketarnsa who married his half-sister’s 97 year old grandma , only to dump her for her great-grandson. And then…dear Mohammed… to loose his left foot, leaving him incapable of having a normal sex life. It was too much and P had to stifle a broken cry into the pink fluffy cuffs…

“Bucketeers!!”

And suddenly there was a green light and O'Foxy's drone paused. Princess P squinted thru the harsh glare only to see her beloved Misty stepping into the room. But again something was wrong (DAMNIT!), why was she clutching her fanny? And why... oh why dear Tom Cruise, master of the scientology universe... is she holding a whip in her hand?