Killer Idiots in Action
A pointless story by Spud Monk

Bob Bobbison walked through the meadow of wheat, each strand swaying gently in the breeze. He sighed in awe of nature's beauty as he looked up at the sky. A flock of geese drifted out of the forest and into view, honking in harmony with nature. Crickets chirped. Bees buzzed. Frogs croaked. All was well.

Suddenly, a thin, black haired boy shot out of the woods and into the clearing. He ran right up to Bob, and he placed his hands on Bob's shoulders and shook him wildly.

"HERE COMES THE PAIN!"he yelled distortedly.

Bob turned and watched as the strange person left the clearing. The normal nature sounds returned to the meadow. Bob inhaled a breath of fresh air, forgetting what had just happened. A satisfied smile crept across his face.Suddenly, another figure burst from the forest into the clearing. Bob squinted at the newcomer. He was medium-sized, kind of stout, with brown hair...

The fellow was now in front of him. He hoisted Bob onto his shoulders, then slammed him against the ground. Next he kicked him in the side, and fled.

"OW!"Bob yelped."Yo, ma-ihn, dat hurt li-ak-"

The attacker turned back, and slapped Bob right on the face. The black-haired one had stopped at the other end of the clearing, and was laughing at Bob. The attacker soon joined him, and they fled together.

Bob sat there on the ground, curled up, battered and bruised. Every part of his body was crying out in anguish.

Bob then stood up. He clutched his side, which was in the most pain from the kicking. He saw some more figures come into the far end of the clearing.

They had shirts saying....Bob squinted...K...I...A. Sounded like some government establishment to nab bad guys. He waved to them. The skinny one rushed over, the grossly overweight one stayed behind. He heard them humming...he listened closely...the "COPS" theme, "Bad Boys".

The skinny one rushed over to him, looking concerned.

"I'm here to help. My name is Agent Fat. My accomplice,"he motioned to the fat one, in the distance."Agent Skinny, is on his...HEY! You're one of those young punks who is in a cult, aren't you! Your activity's a violation of law code 24.6679098047831100001736783191932!"

Without another word, Agent Fat slapped the crap out of Bob, then whipped out his billy club, knocked him over, and started beating him. Soon, Agent Skinny joined in by kicking, but his hands were busy with a slice of pizza.

Bob blacked out.


Bob came to in a room, with a audience of small, white ducks. He looked up at a podium, and realized there was a judge at it. He was in a court of law. The judge aphro. His face looked surprisingly familiar. Someone sitting by his side...labeled..."Translator"....looked strangely familiar as well. The person across from him, marked "Prosecutor", was a stuffed bunny.

The judge smacked his lips.

The translator said,"OINK!"

The judge shook his head, then smacked his lips again.

The translator said,"Oh....Well, finally you've woken up, Bob Bobbison. He's already gone over the legal rights and stuff, so if you've never been in a court of law, well, too bad. It's time for you to represent yourself.  A witness, Agent Fat, has already spoken out against you. You are on trial for attempted suicide, in cold blood."

Bob stood up."Yo onna, I object on da basis dat dis trial...see...yo....I weren't gibbon time ta prepare fo it. It's not-"

The judge slammed his hammer and smacked his lips loudly.

The translator said, "OVERRULED!"He tossed Bob a cue card.

Bob read the card."I call ta thee standuh, Agient Skinnay."

Agent Skinny waddled up to the stand. He chewed on his cheeseburger.

The prosecutor, you know, the stuffed bunny, blurted out, "Ooh! No more questions."

The judge whispered to the translator, then passed him the hammer.

The translator took it, then the judge smacked his lips.

"He said..."the translator trailed off. He pulled off his glasses. The judge removed his 'phro.

Bob recognized them as the attacker and the accomplice.

The judge yelled, "HERE COMES THE PAIN!" The translator threw the hammer at Bob, which knocked him over. Then they fled.

The jury of ducks was shocked by this In fact, some were so shocked they actually almost woke up. Agent Fat murmured,"Skinny. The judge is a fraud. We'll hafta decide who the real suicide attempt-er was, and their motive. Um, I get the feeling we should be doing something."

"I agree, Agent Fat."Skinny said as he devoured some chips.

Fat pointed his pistol at Bob. "You're under arrest!"

"I agree, Agent Fat."

They slapped some handcuffs on Bob.


The fat agent, Agent Skinny, sat across the table from Bobbison. Skinny squinted. He would get him. He always got his man.

" your final test..."

"Yo, see, lie detectas don't lie...I beat-edd evray test...I don't see why we be doin dis layuhst tayuhst."

"No one asked you to talk. Now, your final test...this will prove whether you're innocent or *BUUURRRP* not...I'm gonna put this large, large, large, large, laaaaaaaaaaarge sum of money, on to" He did so.

"I'm gonna turn my back in this nifty swivel chair."Skinny demonstrated the swivel chairs amazing potential. To swivel, that is. "I'm gonna turn back...after...5...seconds. Got it?"

"Yo, sounds eaaaasssssyyy."

Skinny scowled, then turned his back. 5 seconds elapsed. He turned back, and the money was still there."Time's up," Skinny said.

"Yo, see, I be innocent. Wuuuuzuuuuppppp-"

Skinny clubbed Bob.

"I didn't say that."

He scribbled down on his notepad. 'Results:Inconclusive.'

He looked back up at the suspicious fellow.


In another room, Agent Fat sat accross from one of the suspects. The dark-haired, skinny one.

Agent Fat looked at his notepad. "Well, uh, see, you've failed every test. This is your last chance."Agent Skinny loaded the large sum of money onto the table."I'm gonna turn my back for...uh...5 minutes...and when I turn around, this had better be here, or you fail this test."

The skinny boy, named Andy, looked around. He grabbed the money and shoved it into his pockets. Then he yanked the keys out of Fat's pocket, and laughed at him.

"Don't make me turn around!"

But with that, Andy had left the room and the building.

Five minutes elapsed. Fat turned around. The money was gone. So was Andy.

"Let's see...he failed every one of the tests, so....uh...he's innocent."

Fat neatly wrote down on his notepad,'Reezultes:Inosint.'


Skinny sat across the table from the other suspect, the brown-haired, slightly pudgy suspect, Nathan.

"I've already explained to you what to do. But since our money's been stolen,we're on a low budget, and we're using this quarter instead."

He placed a dirty old quarter on the table. "5 seconds begins..Now."

Nathan took one look at the quarter, then pulled the billy club out of Skinny's pocket. "Yoink."

"Hey, that's-"CONK!

Skinny slumped down. He tried to write 'Results:Guilty' on the notepad, but was conked again.

Nathan left the knocked-out KIA agent with a notepad saying



Fat sat across from Bob, who was being retested. He had already re-explained the simple rules to Bob, just in case he forgot. He knew Bob was the culprit. He knew that look in his eyes.

The look of a killer, no, wait, the look of an attempted suicide-er, Fat thought. No wait, maybe the look of my harmless Mexican hairless dog, Fluffy.

Fat pretended to place a bit of currency on the table. But he didn't put anything on it. "But since we're on a real tight budget, I'm gonna use this here invisible dime."

Bob rolled his eyes. "Quesh-tee-un?"Fat acknoledged him with a nod. "Yo, see, why do I be doing these robbery tayusts when I be convicted of attempted suiciyeed?"

""Fat grew really angry, then smacked Bob."I NEVER SAID YOU COULD TALK! Now, back to the test-HEY, WHERE'D THE DIME GO?! YOU'RE GUILTY!" Fat sprayed Bob with mace and wrote in his best handwriting,



In another private room, Fat and Skinny stood with Bob and an object covered with a tarp.

"We sentence you to death."

"I agree, Agent Fat."

Bob looked surprised."A! Why you sentence me to death fo attemptied suiciyeed, which I did not even duh?"

Fat smirked."It's the law."

Skinny yanked off the tarp, revealing a wooden chair on top of a box. He motioned for Bob to get in it.

"DAT's da chayurr? I tot ya meant the electric-"


"I agree, Agent Fat."

"Don't I git enny last wurduhs-"


"I agree, Agent Fat."

Fat kicked the box out from under the chair. Bob fell down, and broke his arm. As he lay there unconscious, Fat started up a conversation.

"I'm glad he's dead....EVIL, I TELL YA!"

"I agree, Agent Fat."

"Let's go bury him."

"I agree, Agent Fat."