John Lindsey
The Violent Bob Saga (work in progress)
by John Lindsey

Chapter 1- Another Conquest

"Major Waters! There is no way we can defeat these forces of violence in our current state. We need to retreat, and regroup, if we wish to live!" said Imas Arjennt, second in command of the great Rhode Island army.
"No, you Peon! We must not give in to the violence. We must fight!" said waters as he raised his fists in fury, "Send in the lions!"
"Yes sir!" Argennt replied as he signaled the lion tamers to release the big cats. The cage doors were opened, and several lions ran out. The lions immediately ate the lion tamers, and then continued eating random soldiers in Major Water’s army; eventually, they ran off to freedom.
“No! This cannot be, “Major Waters turned to a lion tamer that had been horribly maimed, and said, “You’re fired!”
“Sir!” interrupted Argennt, “I think it is time we revealed our secret weapon.”
“You mean the monkeys?” asked Waters.
“No, they all escaped. I meant… the Senior Citizen Brigade!” Argennt said with masked fear in his voice.
“Yes, their violence just might be able to overcome that of Violent Bob’s, and his army, the great Violent Bob Clan!” replied Waters as he signaled the seniors to attack, “May great woe fall upon the Violent Bob Clan!”
* * *

The entity of pure violence known as Violent Bob surveyed the battlefield from the top of a hill.
“General Bob! We’re winning, we’re winning!” said one of Violent Bob’s messengers while limping up the hill.
“That is Violent Bob to you, unviolent one! And of course we are winning; our violence is unparalleled!” said Violent Bob as he ran his blade through the nose of the messenger, “Igor, get over here!”
Violent Bob’s right hand man walked up the hill to do his master’s bidding. “What act of violence do you wish me to commit this time, your violence?”
“Um… oh, I need a new messenger,” Bob replied.
“It is already done, oh violent one. Johnson! You’re the new Violent Bob Clan messenger. Get up here and be violent or something.”
“… Yes Sir Igor. I feel just that much more violent now,” said Johnson.
Violent Bob went back to surveying the battlefield. Just as his army was just about to overtake the Rhode Island Army, something that surprised even Violent Bob himself happened. The Rhode Island Army sent in their senior citizens to attack!
The frontlines of Violent Bob’s army were overrun, and the seniors continued to advance.
“We must prevail!” exclaimed Violent Bob.
“B… But they have walkers and canes!” said Johnson, the new messenger, “And they use these weapons to wound our men badly. We must retreat!”
“You doubt my violence!?” shouted Violent Bob.
“No, I just…” Johnson was cut short (literally) by the blade of Violent Bob decapitating him in one fell swoop.
“Oh Igor…”
“Yes, I know, a new messenger. Imad! Imad Edman get over here! You will be the new messenger of the Violent Bob Clan!”
“But I…”
“Hey, don’t backtalk! Make your family proud; honor your family name by being the messenger!”
“I guess I have no choice,” replied Edman.
“Here is your first mission as messenger. I want you to go to the frontlines, and tell the seniors to surrender if they wish to live,” said Igor. “But I’m… Imad Edman! I have a family!”
“Exactly the reason you should go!” said Igor as he pushed Edman down the hill.
* * *

Edman got uo off of the ground, and brushed himself off. He looked up, and was startled to find that he was face to face with a senior citizen! The senior raised his can high into the air, and brought it down upon Edman's head. Edman was out cold.
Violent Bob snickered a little as he watched Edman's performance.
“Well, that didn’t work too well. Ha ha ha!” Bob exclaimed violently, “It looks like I will have to take matters into my own hands now. Igor, bring me my spork!”
Igor pulled out a spork carrying case from underneath his cloak and examined it. He quickly popped it open and looked at the spork within. Ooos and ahhs erupted from both armies in the battle in the battle as the spork was removed from its case. Most had never seen a weapon with such lustrous, and deadly, beauty before.
As Violent Bob took the spork, a ray of light from the heavens basked him in its violent glow. Yes, its violent glow.
“Oooga booga!” Violent Bob proclaimed as he leapt from the hilltop, to the battle below. With unparalleled violence, Violent Bob destroyed both friend and foe alike!
He had defeated the Rhode Island Army in a matter of seconds! He now knew what he must do to break his enemy’s will to fight. He must defeat the head senior citizen in a battle… to the death!

Chapter 2- The Weakness

The head senior citizen watched in awe as the one known as Violent Bob decimated his entire senior citizen brigade. He drew a cane from its hilt, and a second from another hilt, and prepared to battle Bob.
Violent Bob looked upon the head senior and remarked, “Let’s see what years and years of violent experience has done for you old man!”
He leapt at the old man, and was surprised when the man blocked his dreaded spork attack. After the spork was parried, the old man countered with his other cane; hitting Violent Bob in the ear!
“That one was for defeating my fellow seniors, and this one is for…” The senior was cut short when Bob sporked him in the eye.
“Arg… my eye! Such violence, you’ll pay dearly for it!” shouted the senior as he lunged at Violent Bob with his canes. Bob easily dodged this attack, and countered with a spork to the shoulder.
This made the senior extremely angry. He turned around, and spit out his dentures; they flew out and knocked the spork right out of Violent Bob’s hand. Like a boomerang, the dentures returned to the senior’s mouth.
“No… no! My spork!” yelled Violent Bob as he drew his sword, which was only about a tenth as violent as the spork. But, that no longer mattered, for Violent Bob was angry, and when an entity of pure violence is angered the laws of science are bent and broken. Violence once thought unattainable, can be accomplished. Such was the wrath of Violent Bob, and in a few quick sword swipes, the senior was rendered defenseless.
Just as Bob was about to make the killing blow, a thought came to his violent mind. During this battle, Bob realized that his forces were weak and unviolent. An army of seniors had nearly destroyed them all. The head senior had been Bob’s most violent opponent in a very long time, and now Bob realized that he needed a stronger army.
Sure, Violent Bob could single handedly take on any army that existed, but if he had a strong army then he didn’t have to do as much. Even the one they call violence incarnate wants to be lazy every once in a while… He looked at the senior citizen, “You are a truly violent opponent, and would make a good officer in the great Violent Bob Clan! What is your name old man?”
“My name is Madruk, and now that all of my senior brigade has been destroyed, I have no one left to go to. I will take your offer, and join the violence that is the Violent Bob Clan!”
“That is a good choice,” Bob replied, “It makes me happy, in a violent way of course, that I don’t have to kill you at this time. Let the violence be with you!”
“And also with you!” replied Madruk.

Chapter 3
A Violent Solution

Violent Bob returned to his top-secret underground lair, and pondered on the events that had taken place. Mere mortals were not violent enough to be useful in a true Violent Bob Clan. Bob needed truly violent members, and he had been trying one way for a long period of time with little success.
You see, the underground lair that Violent Bob occupied was a genetics lab long ago. Many experiments on gene therapy had been done there.
Bob had occupied this place as long as he could remember, but had still never found out why it had been abandoned, or why the skeletons of many long dead scientists were all over the compound.
He had studied various lab records for what seemed like seconds, and had tried to reproduce their results. He had had some success, but then again, the scientists that had originally done these tests had minimal success as well. There was, however, one secret lab within the compound that not even Violent Bob had been able to enter, but oh how he tried! For countless hours he had tried opening the door to this lab. He tried everything from dynamite to plastic explosives, but the door still wouldn’t budge. Bob was staring at the door when Madruk came in. “What be up my violent homey?” Madruk asked.
“Hey, I thought you were a senior citizen, since when do they speak gangster Ebonics!?” said Violent Bob.
“Oh… ahem, sorry that happens sometimes,” Madruk explained, “But still, I want to know what a creature of pure violence, such as yourself, is doing in here when there are people out there that need to feel your wrath?”
“I don’t know really,” said Violent Bob, “I’ve always had a certain affinity for this part of the lab. I feel that if I could just get past that door, I would find all of the answers I need to build a huge, genetically altered, army of violence. If only the door would open…
“Hmm… that’s a tough one, but have you tried the doorknob?” asked Madruk. Bob walked over to the door and turned the doorknob. He was amazed to see that the door opened!
“Madruk, you are a genius! I think I will make you my second in command!” Bob walked over to the intercom and pushed the button. When Igor answered, Bob replied, “Igor, you are no longer second in command. You have been demoted to clan messanger!”
“Oh… crap!” Igor replied. Several seconds later there was a gnawing noise over the intercom; the screams of Igor followed shortly, and then slowly faded away into silence.
“What was that?” asked Madruk.
“The rats must have gotten him… we sure do go through a lot of messengers here,” Replied Violent Bob.
“Yeah, that’s true,” said Madruk.
“But anyways, it is time we go through the door. Oh how I have waited for this moment.” Bob opened the door, and looked upon the spectacle within. Pathways went everywhere, and Violent Bob guessed that this was a giant maze, and all of the secret laboratory documents were hidden at the end. Bob pushed Madruk ahead of him; After all, the place was most likely booby-trapped. Almost immediately, a large and sharpened wooden stake shot from a hole in the wall, impaling Madruk.
“Ouchie that hurt!” exclaimed Madruk, “I don’t know how much longer I will live. Violent Bob, you will have to go on without me.”
“Actually Madruk, I still need you for a little while.”
“But, what would I be good for? I’m horribly maimed!” said Madruk.
“Well, said Violent Bob as he pulled the stake out of Madruk and rolled him down the hall continually, always making sure that he was several feet ahead at all times, “There are most likely more booby-traps, and I sure don’t want to walk into any of those.”
The pathway ahead split off into three different directions, and Bob used the “eenie-meenie-minee-mo” method to figure out that the left path was the right one. He walked down this path making sure to keep Madruk ahead of him at all times. Bob was in such a hurry to get to the end of the maze that he didn’t even notice the small button on the ground that Madruk rolled over. The instant the button was tripped, large flames shot out from holes in the floor, roasting poor innocent Madruk.
“Help me, oh violent one! Just nudge me ahead a few feet so I’m not directly in the flames!” pleaded Madruk.
“But then I might burn my foot! It’s best to just let the fire die down before I move you, and we move on. These fire booby-traps have a limited amount of fuel; it should be done shortly.” Said Violent Bob.
Many hours later, the flames stopped, and Madruk was relieved.
“Violent one, I don’t think I can go on… I’m afraid you may have to do the remainder of this maze by yourself!” said Madruk.
“Um… okay,” lied Violent Bob as he continued to roll Madruk down the dark and dreadful hallway.
“I envy your vast amount of violence,” said Madruk as he rolled.
“Many do my friend in violence, many do,” Bob replied.
They went down many more paths with little incident, until they came to a long hallway that was at a slightly downhill angle. At the end of the hall a bright light (bright compared to the hallway at least) could be seen.
Bob was now violently excited, for he knew that what he sought must be at the end of this hallway. He pushed Madruk faster now, which was easy because the path was going slightly downhill.
Just then, there was a loud crashing noise behind them. Bob yelled (violently of course), and hopped over Madruk.
He sprinted down the hall leaving Madruk behind, rolling at a slightly slower speed than the boulder. Of course, the boulder eventually caught up with the rolling Madruk.
Surprisingly, his body acted as a wedge that stopped the giant boulder’s rolling.
“This hurts horribly bad… But, I must be violent like Violent Bob. I can take this!” proclaimed Madruk.
“Your violence!” he shouted at Bob, “Continue on to the top-secret lab records! Hurry though; I think I may need medical treatment.”
Madruk reached into his nearly burnt off pocket with his good hand, and pulled out a band-aid. He placed it on his face, and immediately felt a little better.
“Don’t worry Madruk. Your brave and violent acts will not go un-rewarded,” said Bob as he continued down the hallway at a leisurely pace.

Chapter 4
The Origin of Violent Bob

Violent Bob entered the secret laborotory and stared in amazement at the various lab equipment around him.
Everything from test tubes to tongs were all over the place. In the back of the room there was another door, but something else caught his eye first.
What appeared to be an old computer was on a desk and was wired to a rather large monitor.
Bob opened a box he found on the desk, and pulled out several documents and a disk. He was tempted to eat the disk, for some reason, but he controlled his urge and read the documents instead.
They appeared to be some scientist's diary entrees, so Bob read them in his curiosity. The first log read:


Hello my precious diary, did you miss me? I’ve missed you and have thought of your slender pages often…
Anyway, on to what has happened today. Our experiments seem to be coming along nicely. We have even been able to combine the DNA of a walrus and rabbit! But, Dr. Osmond claims that these results are… shit. He seems to think that we beam the animals used in the experiments with radioactive rays while we genetically alter them.
I just don’t see how society can benefit from this. It seems like every lab rat that has undergone these new experiments has turned horribly violent, and then died shortly thereafter.

Hello my sexy, sexy diary… I have some odd news today. It seems as though Dr. Osmand isn’t content with experiments on animals; he insists that we experiment on humans as well.
I don’t know how much longer I can work in this place…


You are so beautiful to me… diary. Oh, and something horrible happened today. Dr. Osmand started experimenting on his own employees… It is a horrible, horrible thing.
I must leave here at once. Hopefully I will be very far away this lab when I right my next message into your pages. Maybe then we can get back to our usual conversations of love and… love.

Violent Bob through down the diary in anger. It was simply too long, and he had wasted too much of his time reading…
Instead of reading more, he decided to see what was on the disk he had found. He inserted it into the disk drive of the computer, and it immediately began playing a movie on the monitor.
A balding scientist appeared on the screen and began laughing manically. Bob was excited… The man then began to talk.
He said, “Hello whomever happens to be watching this. I have decided to put the results of the “violence incarnate” experiment into this movie. I’m simply too lazy to write it all down. And anyway, I’m a mad scientist, and I look much more menacing and crazy on video than I would if I just wrote down my physical description.
I will now tell you a little bit about me, and the history of this great experiment. Many years ago I was a renowned archeologist, and had discovered many great things. The initial discovery of mine that made me famous was the great Spork of Bueford the Bold.
Legend said that the spork had been crafted from an indestructible ore that has yet to be found again to this day. In fact, the Scrolls of Bueford say that the ore had to be heated in a furnace for twenty-five before it was soft enough to be molded into a spork shape.
Throughout the centuries, this spork has been a great treasure. Entire wars were fought for its possession, but it eventually disappeared from the pages of history. As though it had vanished from the face of the Earth. In all actuality it had not disappeared, but had merely been taken by someone who had no idea what kind of power it possessed.
An old thief named Pinocchio had come across it one day during one of his many raids. You see, the spork was being transported from Bigplacia to Smalltonia in a stage coach. The king of Smalltownia had hoped to have the spork in his private museum, but he made the mistake of hiring too few guards to escort the spork carrying carriage. He figured that a heavily guarded carriage would have attracted the attention of thieves that he hoped the carriage could elude. In the Forest of Tortuga (halfway between Bigplacia and Smalltownia) the thief Pinocchio’s raiding party was hiding. They jumped out from the cover of the trees and started the pillaging process as the carriage went by.
In the first stage of this process, several trained ninja assassins judo-chopped the ropes that hitch the horses to the carriage. The horses ran off while several thieves jumped in front of the carriage to slow its speed enough for safe boarding.
Why they couldn’t just wait for the carriage to stop rolling is beyond me. Maybe the speed of the raid was too important, and time could not be wasted waiting for the carriage to quit rolling.
When the carriage finally came to a stop, the thieves surrounded it and commenced to throw large mud clods at it.
Eventually, the passengers inside the carriage opened the door and looked out to see what the weird plunking noise was. The instant the door was opened, the thieves jumped in. They waved their fists about madly, hoping to come in contact with a passenger or two.
After this onslaught had gone on for a while, Pinocchio himself entered the carriage and demanded that the passengers hand over all of their valuables.
One brave yet dumb passenger yelled, “No, you will never get your thieving hands on the great Spork of Buford the Bold!”
“What, a spork!?” asked Pinocchio incredulously, “I had no idea such a valuable treasure was onboard this carriage!”
Pinocchio searched the carriage high and low, but could not find the spork (it was hidden in a secret chamber underneath the cab).
Eventually, he told his band of thieves to burn down the carriage; after this was done, Pinocchio searched the ashes for the spork.
He easily found the spork among the embers, and was surprised to see that it had been unhurt by the flames.
It was glowing red as though it was hot, but when Pinocchio touched it, he found it to be oddly cold.
As he looked upon the splendorous beauty of the spork, a strange inscription appeared on its handle. In tiny font, it read:

There is a treasure that is so fair;
A thousand times more than new underwear!
It glistens and shines in the morning sun;
Inviting all people to join in its fun.

"Now what is the name of this treasure?" you ask;
Why, it's the great spork, and it does many a task!
As an eating utensil it cannot be beat;
It is good for corn, and also for meat!

As a projectile weapon it's fast and it's fierce;
Through ten-thousand igloos it would likely pierce.
It also makes a good sword or good spear;
Imagine the pain of it poking your ear!

As a decorative necklace a spork can't be beat;
Just remove it, and use it, when it's time to eat!
This poem goes out to the greatest thing in the land;
The majestic spork... that is now in my hand.

Pinocchio was amazed that he had found such a treasure and immediately tested its strength. He defeated his entire band of thieves in a gloriously violent battle. . . To the death! What Pinocchio didn’t realize, was that with each life he took, more and more violence was absorbed into the spork.

It was at this time, that the inhabitants of The Forest of Tortuga, who had been watching the raid, knew they must take the spork by force and seal it away, so that it may never be used for violence again. These forest inhabitants were a feared race of judo turtles. Long thought ti be only legend, because they rarely showed themselves to the outside world.

The battle that ensued was a long and violent one. The lives of many a turtle were lost, but in the end it was the twin turtle brothers, Wise Turtle and Inhumane Tortoise, who overtook the spork wielding Pinocchio.

The two brothers then argued about what to do with the spork. Inhumane Tortoise said that it should be used as a weapon to conquer all armies, and then used to turn the earth into a turtle dominated society. Wise Turtle claimed that the spork contained too much violence already, and any misuse of it would eventually lead to the downfall of its wielder.

The arguing that ensued eventually led to a schism in the judo turtle society. One half of the turtles went to the north-eastern corner of the forest to live. There they practiced the more violent judo techniques under Inhumane’s command.

The other half of the judo turtle race went to the south-western corner of the forest, where they learned the “wisdom of judo.” They were led by Wise Turtle.

The two turtle races worked together just long enough to build a giant tower where they would hold the spork until they came to an agreement on what to do with it.

According to the Scrolls of Tortuga, which I, Dr. Osmand, had found at an archeological dig, the turtles never were able to come to any sort of agreement. They fought many battles, knowing the victorious side would acquire the spork, but neither side ever won decisively enough to dare make a move towards the spork’s “resting place.” The two turtle armies were in a stalemate and eventually just gave up and left the spork where it was.

After studying the aforementioned scrolls and others like them for many years of my otherwise futile life, I came to the realization that I needed this spork for my very own!

The “scientific side” of me wanted the spork so I could do research on the materials it was composed of, as the various scrolls had attested to its unique and “magical” makeup. Now my “archeologist side” on the other hand wanted the spork to serve as the centerpiece of my vast spork collection. Which was probably collecting dust back home while I studied stupid ancient scrolls...

And so, I began to devise a plan to pilfer the spork from, if the scrolls were correct, the Tower of Tortuga. I surmised that if the judo turtles had lost interest in the spork, that it might not be heavily guared at all. So, I constructed a kind of dirigible out of some sturdy tree bark, and traveled to the placed marked “Tower of Tortuga” on the handy map I found amongst the scrolls. The tower was hard to miss, and as I neared it I caught a glimpse of a turtle staring up at me in amazement. I deftly landed atop the tower’s pinnacle and nabbed the spork! Ironic that the spork was placed at the very top of the tower with the assumption that it would be the most difficult place to get to. . .

I could hear some turtles screaming their “war cries” as I floated back to my lair, but my mind was only concerned with the spork I now had that so many others had sought!

I began experimenting on the spork the instant I was back within my cozy lair. I found that the spork could not be melted down by any of my hottest furnaces, so I was having trouble finding out anything about its composition.

Aside from these troubles, I was also feeling very strange each time I handled the spork. I noticed that when I held the spork, a wild and violent energy nearly consumed me. I feared this violence had begun to taint my very soul as I thought of the many horrendous feats I could accomplish with such a weapon.

But in my brilliant, brilliant scientist mind, I knew that I was not strong enough to control the spork’s fury and so I began to search for someone who was. It was around this time, that the activities of one of my more promising apprentice scientists began to attract my attention.

This apprentice was known only as Bob, and from the stories some of the other scientists told me, his violence was unparalleled in all of the world! I had even heard that he once defeated an old lady in battle, with nothing but his bare hands! This I could not believe, but I went ahead and promoted Bob to the “Lead Lab-Assistant” position anyway and went right to work experimenting on him. . .