Snufftoons, ch. 5

You can’t have a cartoon planet without anime.


The invader wandered through back alleys, his mind riding a wave of pure happiness.  He was unsure where he was going, or if he even cared.  The toonblood in his system was different from typical pleasure.  It consumed him with joy, pure and utterly without reason.  Happiness was unnatural for invaders.  The feeling both excited and terrified him.

Nevertheless he craved more.

He finally emerged from the alleyway onto another street full of strange cartoons.  The neighborhood was something similar to a warzone.  Instead of buildings there were gigantic war robots with toons camped out in the nooks and crannies of their ornate armor.  There was no traffic in the street, as it was filled with high tech vehicles that were broken down and useless.

898 had read about these creatures in the dossier.  Anime toons.  They comprised almost half the planet’s population, but the planet’s Mayor had sequestered them into this cramped ghetto.

Legions of samurai, ninja, secret agents, sorcerers, cyborgs, oni demons, and schoolgirls filled the street.  They hardly seemed to move, and it was hard for 898 to tell the males from the females.  They all sported freakishly large eyes and hair, and endlessly chattered about dedication, justice, love, cuteness, and their repressed sexuality.

898 stopped in front of a junky kiosk.  An anime tentacle monster sat behind the kiosk, fat and coated in slime.  Before him were many glass jars stacked precariously high.  Inside each of the jars was a cute little anime monster, each one colorful and unique, each one smiling and giggling and babbling with adorable high-pitched words.

898 watched the little anime monsters as they danced around in their tiny glass prisons.  The tentacle monster picked up one of the jars, making sure to show it to the little green alien.  898 smiled at the cute blue rodent inside.  The tentacle monster popped open the jar’s lid and sucked the little critter into his gaping maw.

“You pay or you leave,” the tentacled one growled while chewing.  “This not a art gallery!”

The words bounced around in 898’s toonblood-soaked mind.  He retreated into the crowd, pushing his way through the colorful anime toons.  Thankfully the anime were too absorbed in their own musings to notice him, but the crowd was so dense and pushed him in so many directions that he soon became lost.  He didn’t know where he was when he felt something seize his arm.

898 turned.  Holding his arm was a tall anime schoolgirl.  Her blonde hair was braided into long pigtails that draped almost to the ground.  She held a broad and authoritative stance, giving the short alien invader the full view up her extremely short skirt.

A smile took up half the schoolgirl’s face.  “Hi!” she said in a chipper voice.

898 pulled his arm away from her.  “Hello,” he said.  “I am just passing through.  You should not pay attention to me.”

The anime girl put her fists on her narrow hips.  “Oh no, I’m the sheriff of Anime Town, and you’re not an anime.  Plus you’re carrying a gun, and guns are no-no’s around these parts.”

Another sheriff.  Through a haze of toonblood, 898 stared at the schoolgirl and could think only one thing:  she had to go.  One dead toon would hardly be noticed by Inpire’s Auditors.

As the schoolgirl droned on about how naughty he was, 898 raised the cartoon revolver and shot at her.  A flagstaff popped out of the barrel with a loud click and it unrolled a red flag with an octagon-shaped STOP sign.

The schoolgirl stopped talking in mid-sentence, frozen there on the street.  She was alive, but utterly trapped, perhaps forever.  No precious toonblood was spilt, and 898 hurried away into the crowd, smiling at his luck.


Crouched in a nearby alleyway were two GI Johns, one dressed as a cowboy and the other as a mime.  They watched the alien sneak away through Anime Town after dispatching the schoolgirl sheriff.

But only murder and mayhem got the real ratings.  Clint Cobblestone demanded ratings, and he could easily have the GI Johns killed if they didn’t capture the right footage.

The cowboy reached down to his gun belt and took out a cartoon cell phone.  “Let’s give that little green varmint a real fight,” he said.  The cowboy pressed a series of buttons on the little phone, which hopped out of his hand and dashed off into the crowd of anime creatures.

The cowboy waited for his call to go through.  The mime kept filming the alien.


898 was almost out of the ghetto when the GI John’s message reached its destination.  The cell phone had found a particularly brutal gang of anime toons hanging out in a shack made of highly advanced technology.  The phone alerted them to the fact that a little green man had shot Anime Town’s sheriff.

Instantly, the gang flew out of their techno-shanty and into the air.  They wore tight and colorful karate gis that ripped and stretched over their large anime muscles.  They had the spikiest of hair, and some had blue reptile-skin or pink-and-green zebra stripes.  Some had goat horns, monkey tails, or extra eyes.

The gang of warriors flew over Anime Town like a vengeful school of fish.  They spotted 898 near the edge of the neighborhood and swooped down to intercept him.  The warriors dropped out of the sky and surrounded 898.

The invader looked at the colorful and muscle-bound cartoons surrounding him and scoffed.  The other anime citizens hurried away from the confrontation.

A warrior stepped forward.  His spiky hair reached several feet into the air and he wore a ragged red karate gi.  “Orb Fighters!” he screamed, and struck a threatening martial arts pose.  The other warriors struck similar poses, and glowing flames licked off of them as they charged up their martial arts powers.

898 couldn’t escape.  Nor could he get away with outright killing this much Inperial property.  That would cost him his promotion.  He wracked his large brain for a nonviolent solution, and found that nothing came to mind.  The Orb Fighters let out loud roars as they prepared to unleash their powers on him.

At the last second, 898 pointed the toon gun into the air and squeezed the trigger.

Out of the cartoon revolver came a black flag emblazoned with a white skull and crossbones.  The sky clouded over, and a great creaking sound thundered through the streets.  The Orb Fighters, as well as all the other anime, turned their eyes upward.

Floating high above the street was a giant cartoon pirate ship.  Hundreds of trapdoors opened across its smooth wooden hull, unleashing squirming tentacles and crab claws and cannons.  The claws and tentacles stabbed downward, swiping away most of the Orb Fighters and spearing others to the street.  Laughing toonblood filled the air as anime died in scores.

The cannons fired down on the crowd, but instead of cannonballs, they shot cartoon pirates that tumbled through the air to smash into the crowd below.  The toon pirates began slaughtering the anime.  Some ran away from the pirate ship, but many samurai and ninja stayed, eager for a fight.

898 gladly slipped away during the chaos.  The anime being killed were merely being replaced with cartoon pirates.  The numbers would equal out in the final draft of the Inperial Audit.

He exited Anime Town not a moment too soon.  The GI Johns stayed behind to film the fighting.


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