Dragon Ball Z Uncensored

[Action Hank]

THE RETURN OF THE ILLUSIONIST

CAST OF CHARACTERS:

MAIN CHARACTERS:

The ILLUSIONIST:

Victor Powers, Jr. Our clueless hero. Somehow survived spending two years trapped in a car possessed by the soul of Rodney Dangerfield and a dead DILETTANTE. Now wanders the wastelands of America, trying to get home to Atlantic City!

Mr. Sinistar:

Old magician and head of the Magic Association Guild of Illusionists and Caterers (MAGIC, or the GUILD). Only surviving member of its Supreme Highest Secret Part. Hates the ILLUSIONIST, and wants him dead. But first, he must discover how Vic has somehow acquired some of the LOST MAGIC that will give Sinistar ULTIMATE POWER!

JAZZ FANTASTIC:

The mysterious and JAZZ-powered bodyguard of Mr. Sinistar. To what the full extent of his powers and motives are, we do not yet know! Is currently tracking and spying on the ILLUSIONIST at Mr. Sinistar's orders.

THE DILETTANTE'S FUCKING SKULL:

The skull of the dead DILETTANTE that the ILLUSIONIST carries around and talks to. Is just a fucking skull.


Minor Characters
Major Magician: Deceased member of the Supreme Highest Secret Part of the GUILD. Army-themed magician, destroyed by the LOST MAGIC of the ILLUSIONIST!

Julian Bonefucker: Head of the Bonefucker Kingdom, a small, insignificant warlordship at the triple borders of the States of Schiavonia, Donk Fuck, and Combo King. Is in love with Lady Ravenhair, and wishes to please her.

Silvertongue Smithe: Bonefucker's adviser. And a total douchebag! Is fucking rocked by Bonefucker.

Lady Ravenhair: Blonde-haired bombshell suffering a bad case of depression since she was kidnapped and forced to become Bonefucker's woman after her parents were violently raped and murdered by Bonefucker's goons.

Popeye the Muderman: Captain of the FLOWERS team at Murderfest. An Irish guy with Popeye-like forearms. Knows Vic's father.

Percy Bysshe ShellSHOCK: Poetic fey GOON who recited Shelley Poetry before launching powerful attacks. Faced Vic in Murderfest, and WAS FUCKING DESTROYED by a whole lot of LOST MAGIC.

The Stapler: Goon with a mask who attacks with his vice-like-grip hands and extending arms. JAZZ overwhelms him with Body and Soul, blowing his brains out of his head and using his body as a weapon.


-----------------------------------PROLOGUE--------------------------------

It is a dark and stormy night! A black Rolls Royce pulls up in front of old Sinistar mansion and a bald man with a monocle and tuxedo steps out from the car and under the umbrella being held by some footmen. The man pulls a golden coin out from behind a footman's ear and places it into the helper's hand. The footman nods politely.

“Ah, I dear say that I am late!” the man says, checking his pocket watch. He is escorted by a hot woman in a fur shawl and flapper dress towards the house as the Rolls Royce drives over towards the garage. “I do hope they haven’t started without me!”

The footmen usher the man and his bimbo into through the massive black oak doors and onto the fine marble flooring of the Sinistar mansion foyer. A gigantic fireplace burns a whole fucking tree across the room. Several hot maids take coats.

“This way, sir,” one of the footmen says, directing the monocled man down a long hallway. Expensive paintings line the walls. They are pictures of people being tortured. One of them is Goya’s Saturn Devouring His Children. The man and the woman are then ushered through a large ante-room and to a set of black metal doors encrusted with emeralds shaped into mosaics of books.

“They are in the library, sir,” the footman says, and pushes the door open with the help of another footman. They strain themselves to get the door open, and behind it is another long hallway that opens into a large three-storied library. Several finely dressed men and women are sitting around on fancy sating and silk couches. One man is wearing military garb. A fireplace is burning in the corner, into which a man tosses a few books into every now and then.

“Very well, Major Magician,” a young, short, dark-haired man says to the iron-jawed uniformed man (whose jaw is actually a piece of shaped iron). “But how do you dispose of the—um—volunteers?”

The major laughs. “Churizo, Little Napoleon. Tapas are quite popular at weddings these days.”

The conversation is interrupted as the final guests arrive.

“Mr. Perception and the lovely Annabelle! Then we are all here,” comes a voice from a high-backed red chair. It turns and we see a very old man. He is dressed in a black suit and is holding a black, broad rimmed hat. His eyes seem to bug out from his heavily wrinkled and tight-skinned head. His nose is almost devoid of cartilage and is sunken into his face. He grins very widely, exposing his full set of yellowed teeth. This is Mr. Sinistar.

“Very good. Let us go to the table.”

[Action Hank]

A large, imposing man obscured by shadows, hands Mr. Sinistar a cane and the old man rises from the chair. Everyone else waits as their host walks over to a large round oak table set at one end of the room. Mr. Sinistar’s large assistant helps him climb into the largest of the chairs. Everyone else takes a seat around him. In the center of the table is a metal sheet. As soon as everyone is seated, the old man claps twice, and a door opens behind them. Several robed people walk out, in front of them is a clearly drugged 15-year-old girl. They stop by Mr. Sinistar, who licks his lips, and then rubs the arm of the girl.

“Yes, yes. Perfect.”

The other guests all agree among themselves. The girl is lifted onto the table and placed on the metal sheet. The robed men tie her down with leather straps, then one of the men, who is wearing a very lavish red robe walks over to a side table where several large and strange sharp weapons lay. He lifts one that is an intricately carved sword covered in etches of penises! The lights lower and another robed man lifts a heavy and dusty tome onto the table in front Mr. Sinistar.

He opens the book.

“Long have we lived in these dark times. The planets are at last aligned in such a way that we can summon HIM back among us!”

The guests all ooh and ahh in appreciation.

“And with this book, we can CONTROL HIM to do OUR BIDING! We, The Magic Association Guild of Illusionists and Caterers, have long waited in the shadows for our moment to strike. Long ago, we were the rulers of ancient Egypt and Stonehenge! Now we are but weak and pathetic souls!”

One of the guests, The Rich Magician, rubs his golden jewel-encrusted crown and nods in agreement.

“But once we use this, THE ULTIMATE MAGIC!” THUNDER CRASH “We shall reclaim our control on the world, having a leg up on all those other countless secret societies and shadow organizations!”

“And most importantly, we will be able to finally beat those damned Illuminates in this years softball tournament!” Sir Whitebread XII says, picking at a lose golden string on his chef’s shirt. “Though I hear that the Secret World Presidents have a ringer of their own.”

“Yes! Yes, of course!” Mr. Sinistar says. “We cannot forget that!” He nods at the red robed man, who climbs onto the table. Another robed man hands him a bag that makes a sickening slush sound as it shakes. The red robed man lifts the bag into the air.

“Nothing up this sleeve!” he says, showing that there is, indeed, nothing up his left sleeve. “And nothing up this one either!” This time he shows that nothing is up his right sleeve. AND THERE ISN’T! He shakes the bag again—clearly it is filled with liquids! The guests around the table watch in awe as he suddenly dumps its contents all over the waiting naked 15-year-old girl! BUT INSTEAD OF LIQUIDS ITS CONFETTI! He then lifts the sword up into the air and brings it quickly and violently down! WHEN EVERYONE LOOKS THEY SEE THAT THE GIRL IS NOT A GIRL BUT A FUCKING LEMON CAKE! The cake starts to bleed STRAWBERRY SYRUP!

EVERYONE FUCKING CLAPS!

“With this confetti and cake, oh great Osiris, we ask that you return from the great halls of the dead, your greatest MAGICIAN, so that we, your humble followers, can again ascend to the right throne of power and majesty! WE SUMMON IMHOTEP!”

THERE IS A BIG FUCKING BLAST OF THUNDER AND THE LIGHTS GO OUT! THERE IS THE SOUND OF SOMETHING RIPPING IN SPACE AND TIME AND THE FUCKING CEILING OPENS AND----

[Action Hank]

A shitty beaten-up hatchback '87 Mitsubishi Mirage painted like a tuxedo crashes down onto the table, crushing the robed man! Chunks of broken ceiling cave in on those sitting around the table, and the table itself splinters and pieces of it fly and impale the guests into walls and the floor and everyone is fucking crushed and dying and the smoke clears.

Mr. Sinistar is standing, protected by his large assistant. They are the only survivors of the Supreme Highest Secret Part of The Magic Association Guild of Illusionists and Caterers (MAGIC, or the GUILD). Mr. Sinistar looks shocked at what has happened.

The door to the hatchback opens and a pale, dirty, bearded man with wild unkept hair falls out. His clothes are tattered and stained with shit. A terrible smell follows him from the inside of the car, which on landing has been wrecked and is leaking gasoline. The car sadly whines one last time...

“Yeah, I know I'm ugly... I said to a bartender, 'Make me a zombie.' He said 'God---beat---me---to---it—‘” And with that, the lights turned off and Rodney Dangercar was dead.

The wild man slowly rises to his feet, his legs shaking as he tries to find his balance. Although he is pale and dirty, his physique is incredibly toned. He is silent, at first, but suddenly notices chunks of cake flattened by the car. He slides face first into it and eats it hungrily.

“Uh,” he says. “I love lime!”

Mr. Sinistar’s throbbing eyes pop out even more in horror. LIME! FUCKING LIME! NO, IT WAS THE WRONG TYPE OF CAKE! IT WAS THE WRONG FUCKING CAKE! He drops his cane and falls to his knees. The GUILD was ruined. Osiris hadn’t sent his champion, no...he has sent his greatest fool. Mr. Sinistar could recognize the wild man in a heartbeat. Behind the natty hair, the thick beard, the terrible smell. The bane of the GUILD. The worst magician to ever live----



--------THE ILLUSIONIST HAD RETURNED!

[Magic Juan]

Can control minds

[Big Fagot]

It'll be interesting to see what proportion of promoers resurrect their phase 1 characters.

[Vinny]

Well, the Illusionist never died.

But basically this will be the only one returning. If you're referring to Toity coming up back, we took care in actual never showing him die during Death Race 2007.

[Rice]

So basically, every wrestler will return, right?

[Vinny]

There's a list of people who will never return as long as I have any say in it, and then there's a list of people we don't want to return just because they're stale and better off dead.

A lot of the reason we were pushing "new characters" is because we knew how many returning characters there would be, and we didn't just want to make Phase 1: Part 2.

But if it makes you feel any better, the Illusionist is the only character from the end of Phase 1 that's appearing in Phase 2. Kenjiro and Toity were both characters that have been out commission for awhile, Toity being out of commission for most of the FTUW's existence.

[Rice]

I can't wait to see what new techniques Ooka Jooka came up with on his hiatus.

[Magic Juan]

When is Jack Daniels going to get a title shot?

[Big Fagot]

So, Matthew is the supreme overlord of Earth, right?

[Magic Juan]

Puff Ryder's flame will never die.

[Spamdini]

Toity isn't my wrestler. He's just there as a manager.

[Action Hank]

---------------------CHAPTER ONE: LOST MAGIC-------------------

As the ILLUSIONIST makes quick work of the splattered woman-shaped lime cake, Mr. Sinistar stares, his body filled with immense rage. The ILLUSIONIST, the man who had made a mockery out of magic (and to a lesser extent, catering—the irony of the lime cake being very apparent) in front of billions, who Sinistar and the GUILD had ignored out of hope that he would die in the ring, who Sinistar thought the world was rid of during the terrible events of DEATHRACE 2007, had not only returned, but had brought about the death of the entire Supreme Highest Secret Part of the GUILD—the very essence of the GUILD itself! Who had RUINED THE SINISTAR MANSION, one of the finest homes to survive the sundering of America! And, most importantly, had spoiled any chances of the GUILD winning this year's softball tournament!!! The ILLUSIONIST had ruined everything! WHY HAD OSIRIS CURSED THE GUILD SO?

“Shall I dispatch of him?” the big dark bodyguard (who happens to be black, I guess) asks, lowering his dark sunglasses.

Mr. Sinistar begins to nod, but suddenly some of the rubble under the car starts to move. A large arm breaks through and Major Magician climbs out. He rises slowly.

“Major! You live!”

“Yes,” the Major says. “I was lucky. The car happened to land on my jaw!” He adjusts his metal jaw as he stands, and then wipes dirt and dust off his uniform. He notices a small tear and his face turns red with anger. And turns towards the crouched ILLUSIONIST (who is still gorging himself on cake), pointing.

“MY UNIFORM! MY UNIFORM! DO YOU NOT KNOW WHAT THIS UNIFORM MEANS? THE GENERATIONS OF MAGICIANS WHO HAVE WORN THIS UNIFORM, WHO PROTECTED OTHERS WITH OUR GREAT MYSTICAL ARTS?”

The Major snaps his finger and OH SHIT a MASSIVE METAL MAGIC WAND APPEARS LIKE FROM NOWHERE!!!! He steps forward and swings the wand like a golf club, flinging the bewildered ILLUSIONIST up into the air and across the room.

“I’M GOING TO SHOW YOU SOME REAL MAGIC NOW!”

Mr. Sinistar and his mysterious bodyguard watch on, the elder magician smiling and cackling in glee like a sick and perverted monster. Major Magician waves his wand and it turns into a pack of playing cards.

“PICK A CARD, ANY CARD!”

HE SUDDENLY PULLS OUT A BIG FUCKING GUN AND STUFFS THE CARDS INTO THEM AND BLASTS THE CARDS AT THE ILLUSIONST! The cards come flying out like bullets, shredding the wall as Vic flies around, dodging the attacks. Soon, there are no cards left.

The Major opens his massive jaw and rams the card gun down his throat. His eyes gleam as he puffs up his chest and burps a MASSIVE BALL OF FIRE TOWARDS THE ILLUSIONIST! Vic rolls out the way, but the ends of his unkept wild hair get singed. He gets trapped in the corner of the room.

Major Magician pulls a FUCKING GRENADE out of his pocket.

“Now you see it, now you don’t!” he shouts, pulling the pin and tossing it at the ILLUSIONIST. Vic HAS NO TIME TO REACT! THE FUCKING GRENADE EXPLODES INTO confetti.

The Major begins laughing. He laughs so hard he pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe away tears. BUT THE HANDKERCHIEF JUST KEEPS GOING AND GOING! Suddenly he swings it and IT’S A FUCKING WHIP! HE WHIPS THE ILLUSIONIST, TEARING THROUGH WHAT LITTLE IS LEFT OF VIC’S CLOTHING! LARGE GASHES AND SLICES APPEAR ALONG THE ILLUSIONIST’S SKIN. Poor Vic cries out in pain. He’s curled up into the fetal position, with nowhere to go.

“Now, you wretch,” the Major says. “You shall learn TO RESPECT MAGIC—”

“Respect?” The ILLUSIONIST says, interrupting the Major. “RESPECT?”

The Major whips again, but this time the ILLUSIONIST catches it and yanks the whip away.

“RESPECT?!!” Vic shouts. He stands. HIS FUCKING EYES HAVE ROLLED INTO THE BACK OF HIS HEAD!!! WHAT THE FUCK? He yanks the FUCKING WHIP INTO PIECES. “FUCKING RESPECT? WHAT DO YOU KNOW OF RESPECT?” His voice sounds very different. Deeper. An unfamiliar accent. Major Magician is caught completely with surprise.

The ILLUSIONIST LEAPS OUT, CLAWING THE MAJOR IN THE FACE AND DRIVING HIM DOWN TO THE GROUND!!!

“RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!”

The Major’s head explodes on impact. CHUNKS OF FLESH TURN INTO THOUSANDS OF DOVES THAT FUCKING FLY INTO THE SKY THEN SHIT ALL OVER THE MAJOR’S BODY.

The ILLUSIONIST stumbles for a moment, his eyes going back to normal.

Mr. Sinistar and his MYSTERIOUS bodyguard watch on, uncertain of what has happened. Vic, also confused, suddenly feels the sting from the whip strikes. He screams like a girl.

[Spamdini]

That was pretty good.

[My Head Hurts 90]

Killing a guy, and then using pieces of his body to shit on himself is incredibly awesome.

[Action Hank]

Mr. Sinistar and his mysterious black bodyguard stare in disbelief. It had all happened so quickly that it takes a few moments for any reaction. Meanwhile, the ILLUSIONIST stands around wincing from his wounds and sobbing like a little girl.

Suddenly he stops and turns towards the open car door. Mr. Sinistar and the bodyguard watch as Vic climbs back into the car and emerges with a skull. ITS THE FUCKING DILETTANTE!

"I know, I know," the ILLUSIONIST says to it. "We have to be tough. We're back, and now its time to show the world what we have."

Mr. Sinistar blinks and shakes his head, confused. The bodyguard rubs his goatee and pulls out a pack of Lucky Strike cigarettes. He puts it between his lips but doesn't light it.

"What'll it be, boss man, sir?" he finally says to Mr. Sinistar.

Sinistar is too busy watching the ILLUSIONIST converse with the DILETTANTE'S FUCKING SKULL that he doesn't hear his bodyguard's question.

"Still want me to kill him?"

"No, not yet," Mr. Sinistar says. "That was a very powerful trick---one of the LOST ILLUSIONS. You wouldn't last a minute against such a spectacular and jaw-dropping magical act! I must figure out how he did it."

"Yeah, its time to return home," Vic says to the DILETTANTE'S FUCKING SKULL. "Let's go find pops. I want him to meet you!"

The ILLUSIONIST turns and just WALKS THE FUCK OUT OF THE ROOM! past gawking maids and house staff.

"Follow him," Sinistar says to the bodyguard.

"That ain't the gig, sir," he says.

"The 'gig' is whatever I tell you it is, JAZZ FANTASTIC," Sinistar says. "Follow Victor Powers, Jr. I must learn the LOST ILLUSIONS. With such tricks, the GUILD will rise again. Osiris may not have sent a curse, after all."

JAZZ nods through Sinistar's exposition, pretending to care, then finally lights his cigarette and heads out after the ILLUSIONIST. Only he knows that the cigarette isn't a cigarette at all, but A FUCKING JOINT!

[Action Hank]

Outside it's raining. The ILLUSIONIST steps into the downpour and just stands there for a moment. One of the footmen offers an umbrella, but Vic just shrugs it off. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

"How long has it been?" he asks the DILETTANTE'S FUCKING SKULL. "How much time has passed?" Then he walks down the driveway and out through the opening gates. There is a dirt road leading through a pine forest, and the rain has turned it to mud.

JAZZ FANTASTIC stands in the open doorway. He accepts an umbrella from the waiting footmen and then saunters down the marble stairs. He is holding a large odd-shaped black case in his free hand. The joint sits on his lips.

"Shall I call for a car, sir?" a footman asks.

"Not tonight, cat," JAZZ says. "Tonight's a night for a cool walk."

The ILLUSIONIST has no shoes, and the mud squishes between his toes. He is delighted by the sensations of the mud. Soon the path winds around the pine forest and comes to a large steel gate at least twenty feet in height LIKE SOMETHING OUT OF JURASSIC PARK! It is attached to a massive steel fence that buzzes with electricity. The air is heavy in ozone as water splashes on the charged wires.

There is a small building attached to the gate, and a man wearing a poncho and security uniform comes out to greet the ILLUSIONIST. The guard is very big and muscular and carries a massive COIL GUN in both hands.

"Sir," the guard says. "I've been ordered to let you pass through the SINISTAR GATES, but you look in real bad shape. It's nothing but wastes and death out there, you know. So be real careful."

Vic nods and then attempts a hidden-coin-in-the-ear trick, but since he doesn't have a coin, he pulls a FUCKING TOOTH (that he just lost in his fight) out from behind the guard's ear! Then he drops it. He drops down and frantically feels around in the mud for it.

The guard turns and enters the gatehouse. There is a very large red button and HE FUCKING PUSHES IT! The gate begins to groan and it sounds like a motor is turning and chains are being drawn and the door FUCKING OPENS.

A long stone bridge extends over an expanse of a burnt out cityscape. On the bridge are FUCKING HUNDREDS OF GOONS WIELDING CHAINSAW PICKAXES WITH BODIES COVERED IN PROTRUDING NEEDLES HOLDING MASSIVE SYRINGES FILLED WITH AIDS AND DRESSED IN THE CORPSES OF RAPED NFL PLAYERS!!!!!

"BACK AWAY FROM THE GATE---YOU HAVE 10 SECONDS---BACK AWAY FROM THE GATE---YOU HAVE 9 SECONDS---BACK AWAY FROM THE GATE---" a loudspeaker announces from the massive fence.

The goons grunt and a few do move but most stand.

"YOU HAVE 1 SECOND" the announcement shouts out, and then the time is up. Sections of the gate suddenly open and security men holding COIL GUNS OPEN FIRE!!! THOUSANDS OF MAGNETICALLY ACCELERATED PROJECTILES HURL INTO THE AIR AND THE GOONS ARE REDUCED TO A MASSIVE CLOUDS OF BLOOD AND PULVERIZED FLESH. The rain washes all this away.

HOLY SHIT THE ILLUSIONIST FINDS THE FUCKING TOOTH IN ALL THAT MUD and puts it back into his pocket. He stumbles between the gates and onto the bridge, over the bridge, and into the remains of the United States of America.



Moments later JAZZ FANTASTIC steps onto the bridge. He bends over and examines a tooth. It had slipped through a hole in the ILLUSTIONIST's pocket.

"KUNT!!!" comes a cry to his left as a giant retarded-type Goon leaps from the side of the bridge (where he had hidden). This goon has glued several FUCKING MOHAWKS from other dead goons into his chest and is wielding two smaller goons wielding blow torches! JAZZ sidesteps an attack smoothly and tosses his case into the air. It opens and a FUCKING GOLDEN SAXOPHONE THAT GLEAMS DESPITE A LACK OF SUNSHINE BLINDS THE GOONS!

"TAKE FIVE," JAZZ FANTASTIC says, placing a reed into his mouth. He rushes at the giant and uppercuts with the Sax, embedding it in the goon's chest. Then he plays FUCKING TAKE FIVE SO SMOOTHLY AND AWESOMELY THAT WOMEN TEN MILES AWAY BEING RAPED BY OTHER GOONS SUDDENLY EXPLODE IN ECSTASY AT THE SWEET JAZZ SOUNDS!

The goon swings at JAZZ with the two smaller blow-torch wielding goons in a counter, but suddenly his arms explode! Then his legs explode! Then, his head explodes. JAZZ FANTASTIC takes the saxophone out of the giant monster's body and smiles at the two other goons.

"GIANT STEPS!"

JAZZ FANTASTIC PLAYS THAT BOP SO WILD, HIS BODY SEEMS TO EXPAND AND TWO MASSIVE FEET CRUSH THE REMAINING TWO GOONS TO PASTE.

JAZZ takes a quick 4-bar solo and then, kicking the case into the air, tosses his saxophone back into it. IT CLOSES AND LOCKS IN MIDAIR and lands in Jazz's right hand. He reopens his umbrella and continues onward, across the bridge and into the wastes.

[Big Fagot]

Goons holding goons holding weapons will never get old.

Also, magnetically accelerated? More like electrically! We're not talking about coilguns here!

[Action Hank]

I was going by this: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rail_guns


But I think I will change them from railguns to coilguns.