“OH, yes, this sleepover
is going to be AMAZING!” Trudy exclaims. She has just nestled her
slightly overweight pre-teen body into her night gown. She takes a
knee, then settles herself next to Juniper, her best friend, whose bed
they are laying on.
“I know, I can't even
believe your dad said you could come!” Juniper exclaims in
return with equal enthusiasm. Juniper is much thinner than Trudy, to an almost sickly aesthetic.
“So do you think that
Reginald really rubbed his balls on Audrey's...” Trudy began.
“Shut the fuck up, it's
starting!” Juniper's voice becomes as deep and crackly as an old
sailor who's been kicked in the throat. Her attention has left any
middle school social drama and become entirely focused on her
favorite television show. This interest is shared by all of her
female classmates. The show is called “Tribal O'Briar's Bank Heist
Half Hour.” This particular night the half-hour is set aside for a
two-hour special. This fact, along with it being a Friday night, is the reason for this impromptu sleep over.
Trudy hugs her Tribal
O'Briar plush action doll just before lightly kissing it. Juniper
touches herself where a breast might be, though she is careful not
to let Trudy see. The theme music begins and the girls simultaneously
squeak in a way only a twelve-year-old girl can. The theme is something akin to:
Tribal! Tribal O'Briar!
Shooting up the Guard.
Taking all the cash cash
This ridiculous theme song
has been responsible for the moistening of under-aged panties for
approximately three years. At this point, Tribal, who serves as host on
the show as well as star, is presented in his dramatized “hide-out”
which by all appearances is in a cavern somewhere with natural
green swamp-gas lighting. He is dressed in clothing provided by his
sponsors, a black t-shirt with the trademarked emblem of
Monsoon Shoes on the breast. His shoes are large neon green
atrocities, also produced by Monsoon Shoes. The only
garment belonging to Tribal's personal trademark are his green and
blue Bermuda shorts. The shorts are covered in tropical flowers and
draping down below Tribal's knees. These shorts are famously
identifiable as Tribal's shorts, because he wears them at all occasions.
Just before he can bite into a large taco from another of his
sponsors, Taco Restaurant Franchise, he looks to the camera and
begins to speak.
“This week we have a
special TWO HOUR episode of Tribal for you people at home. I come
across the Guard just about every week. When you live a life of free-spirited spit-in-your-face action like I do you're gonna come across
the law every time. This week, though, I have a run in with something I
may not have the cunning for. What do you guys think at home? You can
phone in with comments and questions! I'll answer them all myself, because I care about my fans. Anyways, sit back tight and buckle into
your adventure mind-sets because things are gonna get hairy for your
old pal Tribal this week. You know what I always say... I'm a bad ass.”
This last part is Tribal's
catch phrase, which is normally accompanied by a trademark smile that
melts young Trudy and Juniper's hearts.
“You getting pumped
Tribal?” asked Salvador Thick. Salvador is Tribal's intern and
“You know I am. Today
we're going into the Second Esteemed Bank of Frusterton. It's gonna
be a tight haul. There are up to TWELVE people inside, customers not
included. We're expecting a big crowd because of the holiday weekend.
Big crowds mean big cash, and if you know me at all you know I ain't
leaving without that booty. I've got Salvador here, my right hand
man, and behind the camera is Bowie Bowie, just itching to film the
action! After these commercial messages from very righteous sponsors
we're going in there! For definite!"
Just as the Monsoon Moon
Shoe Company's ad begins to play, Juniper and Trudy turn to each other.
“Salvador is so gay for
Tribal. He's always asking him if he's pumped or if he's ready. 'Ready to jump my bones' is more like it.”
“Oh I know. Did you hear
that Tribal is dating Xibi Deck?”
“I hate her, but I did buy
tickets to a live taping of her show next week.”
“I hate her too, but her
new album, Pop Sensation Superstar, is outrageous!”
“Shut the fuck up! The
show is back on!”
With the end of the
commercial break we find Tribal just outside the bank. He has twin
pistols in his hands. He is nearly panting with anticipation, though
this is for dramatic effect.
“Alright, you know the
drill Salvador! Go in guns out and ready! I'll do all the talking.
You know me, I'm a bad ass!” Tribal is speaking directly into the
camera. Suddenly he kicks open the door in an action full of over-dramatic suspense, and he enters the bank.
“Everyone on the floor!
I'm Tribal O'Briar and this is a stick up!”
The crowd is mostly silent
save for a few small yelps. They all know the drill. They've signed
the releases for their likenesses to be used in the television show. The
show hands around the forms a few minutes before they enter to rob
the establishment. This serves two purposes. The first is so no one
can sue the show. The second is so the bank has enough time to call
the authorities before being robbed. Without a run-in with the Guard, the show would get old after the first season, though this
being television, the corporate leg has a contract with
all of law enforcement. They are not able to use lethal force in
bringing down Tribal. Tribal, however, is allowed to kill as many Guard as he sees fit. In addition to these legalities, should Tribal
be captured, he is not allowed to be jailed.
The heist on this episode
is going well. Tribal throws out a few threats, pistol
whips an elderly man, and sexually advances himself upon a teller. This brews hatred for this teller in the hearts of the young female
audience. Salvador, ever at Tribal's side, acts as back up and
nearly mimics Tribal's actions. Salvador is not well thought of
by the audience. Plans to replace him have been discussed by
the show's producers. All is going very well, that is, until the Guard arrives at the bank. With the Guard there, things are now going
great, and very much in accordance with the rough script.
“Tribal, it's the Guard!”
Salvador screams, holding a pistol in his hand.
“Hey,” Tribal says
casually walking towards a young man standing where the line had
been. “What're you doing here at the bank today,” Tribal asks, holding a microphone to the young man's mouth.
“I'm here to see how much
I can get for this gold tooth here,” the ratty young man says in
“Well guess what. You're
my hostage!” Tribal exclaims just before grabbing the unsuspecting
boy, who is stupefied by the whole strange scene. Obviously this
young man is not one of Tribal's throngs of fans. This is a strange
young man. He carries a razor but does not move to defend himself with
it. He does not appear threatened by Tribal. This young man plays along
as instructed by the intern, who made him sign the paper he was
“Stay tuned, let's see how
I get myself out of this one, guys, and we'll be back after this word from
our sponsors,” Tribal says into the camera before it goes black.
Shortly thereafter the image is replaced by an advertisement for acne
“EEEwwww, did you see that
weird guy Tribal took hostage?”
“Yeah, he had like gross
goggles with like weird eyes inside of them?”
“That guy was way gross,
kind of like weird Grobur, you know that guy who's like on the chess
team at our school.”
“Yeah, Mandy told me you
had a crush on Grobur.”
“Do not, you bitch.
Soon, after a few minutes of
name calling between the two girls, the commercials end. Tribal
appears before the camera.
“Get a shot of all those Guardsmen, Bowie Bowie!” Tribal shouts, waving his gun towards the
open window. The cameraman does as instructed. Outside are three hovercraft with flashing lights. The word “Guard” is printed in bold lettering along the side of each.
“Give yourself up, Tribal,”
one of the Guardsmen reads loudly from a small card. “You're reign
of tyranny is over!”
“Sheah, right dude!”
Tribal laughs, looking into the camera mocking the Guardsman. This is a very action-packed scene. The girls are on the edge of their
“Alright guys, check it,”
Tribal begins. “I'm going out there with my hostage, and there's a lot of Guard out there, so I might not make it out of this ALIVE!” Tribal is all smiles as he says this.
Tribal, without further
hesitation, kicks the door open and starts blasting away Guardsmen
left and right. Among explosions of blood from the chest cavities and
heads of the Guardsmen, Tribal makes his way out of the bank. He holds his
two pistols, taking shots, one then another. Salvador has the hostage with the cat eye goggles. The Guard fires back, though they fire blanks. The producers of the show have them all under contract to make
this look good. Finally, after fifteen Guard are dead, one of the Captains yells.
“Bring in the
Exterma-BOT!” The giant Guard robot is part
of the script. Its presence is meant to bring in ratings for the
two-hour special. It had been programmed to explode spectacularly whenever it senses it had been hit by a bullet.
“Uh oh, guys. An
Exterma-Bot! How will I get out of this one? Stay tuned through these
commercial breaks from very important and cool sponsors and find
out!” Tribal says into the camera, while covered in the blood of innocent Guardsmen.
“OH MY GOD! I LOVE
TRIBAL,” the girls scream at once.
“He's the cutest and most
daring criminal of all time!”
“I want to marry him, and
he could take me on his heists!”
The screaming goes on like this for
some time when finally the commercials end and the show returns.
At first Tribal doesn't know that anything unscripted is happening.
He hears banging noises and assumes the Exterma-Bot is on its
way and that his heroic caper will come to an end for the week. Even
after he sees Messiah Woman, he still thinks the producers are responsible.
“Wow, we must be trying to
appeal to a male audience with this chick,” Tribal mutters to
Salvador. This is a reasonable assumption. Messiah Woman is dressed in
a get-up any pubescent male would place her in. The most
substantial piece of her attire is a long flowing cape. Her breasts
are covered with the purest white pasties. Besides this she wears a low-cut skirt and boots. She flies, enormous breasts jiggling, towards Tribal, oozing golden holy energy.
“Relinquish the hostage
and surrender yourself to the judgment of the Goddess!” Messiah
“Hey none of this is in
the script!” Tribal yells. “How can I be expected to work like
The camera never leaves Tribal's form. It stays on him as Messiah Woman blasts him through.
The shot of golden energy from Messiah Woman's eyes impales Tribal.
He stands there, with the slightest wobble, before saying,
“....I'm a bad ass...."
His final words, spoken not
into the camera, but silently to himself.
The girls cry and
“He'll come back, he's not
dead, he'll come back, it's all a joke!” The girls say as
they watch in horror. It was no joke. Messiah Woman has not read
the script. She is not on the payroll of the show's producer. Tribal
O'Briar is dead. The camera turns off and the next broadcast is a memorial
image of Tribal in his prime. Beneath his image are the words “Tribal
O'Briar, gone but not forgotten.” He died at the tender age of
“You are safe now,”
Messiah Woman says to the boy hostage. Suddenly before him is a tape
player. He presses play and the two listen:
“Eji, I, your benefactor, have instructions. You must travel with Messiah Woman, she who has
just rescued you. She will help you find the Pixie Sultan. Ask her to
help and she will. Do not lose hope. He is out there and he awaits
“Will you help me?” The
hostage, Eji, asks.
Messiah Woman considers for
a moment. She sees this young man as strange in appearance and
demeanor, almost devout. She feels that the tape player's sudden
appearance may have been some form of divine interaction. Before
she can respond, she feels the presence of her Goddess. The presence
of her Goddess overcomes her and prompts a hasty decision.
“The Goddess must have
placed me here for this purpose," she states. "I
shall help you find this Pixie Sultan.”
Eji unfurls his magic
carpet and together the two fly onward. The camera is off now, and
the show is over.