Snufftoons, ch 16

Invader 898 rose from the dusty cartoon ashes of the Mayor’s mansion.  His genetically engineered flesh could survive far worse than an atomic blast.  The toon gun and the Mayor were both gone. The invasion was over.

But he was still coming down from a long binge of toonblood.  His large black eyes were shot through with yellow veins, and he found it hard to focus.

898 shook ash from himself and looked upward.

Floating above the city was a fleet of gigantic yellow submarines, Imperial warships annexed from the rock-n-roll planet.  A rainbow-colored tractor beam shot down and bathed 898 in light.

Time for 898 to face his Auditor.  He slapped himself in the face several times to refocus just as the tractor beam lifted him up to the ship.

On board, 898 was met with his Inperial Auditor.  He’d gone through invasion protocol fifty times now, and the contracts were signed quickly and completely, despite 898’s frayed nerves.  The Auditor led 898 through the yellow submarine to a small room with a debriefing pod.

Invader 898 lay down in the pod and the interrogation began.  898 told the Auditor what class of invasion he employed (Delta), explained his reason for choosing the dog as Planetary Magister (Grade K), and explained that the toons would remain docile as long as they were entertained.

Everything was in order.  It was an exemplary invasion.  His answers were proper and correct, his delivery smooth and innocent.  Hs mind, still hazy with toonblood, began to obsess again over his promotion to Citizen Invader.

“This was your fiftieth invasion,” said the Auditor.  “And yet you lost your weapon.”

898 gulped.  His mind raced and remembered the orange rabbit cop.  It seemed like eons ago.  He played that event over and over, examining the cartoon rabbit from every angle.  Of all the sex and rape, the drugs and the killing outside of invasion parameters, he’d invaded planets for years now and losing his Doomshooter just once was going to be his undoing.  He was going to be recycled for sure.

Beads of sweat formed on 898’s large green forehead.  His three hearts felt like they would explode.  There were long moments of silence before the Auditor spoke.

“Besides the loss of your weapon, this invasion was superbly executed,” he said.  “Combined with your performance record, you meet the requirements for promotion.”

898 lay perfectly still, holding back any emotion.

“Invader Eight-Hundred-and-Ninety-Eight, you are hereby promoted to Citizen Invader.  You will be reassigned to the 408th Citizen Invaders Brigade.  You are dismissed.”

898 climbed out of his pod and exited the debriefing room.  He wiped the sweat from his large forehead and leaned against the yellow hull of the submarine.  Everything was perfect.  As a Citizen Invader, he could apply for his own assignments now, and he wouldn’t rest until he’d killed, fucked, ate, drank, sucked, snorted, and most of all invaded everything he could get his hands on.

Everything was perfect, and Invader 898 truly believed it would last forever.

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