HE'S NOT DANCING ANYMORE

BY: DEATHSTRIKE

Mr. Brownstone let loose a dark cackle as the Octom fleet pulverized the last remnants of the forces of the 42nd dimension.  These warriors had simply called themselves "The Answer", and it had taken the Octom an amazing 2 years to annihilate them.  This was the most fun they'd had since The Gigantuan Mega Fuck Huge OmniBattle for the Continuum.  Moe Eskie leered facelessly at him from across the bridge of the Octom UberDreadnaught (tm)-Class warship, the Meat-Grinder.

  "So much for that." he rasped, the shadows falling across his blank visage giving the impression of a menacing grin.  "Who's next?"

"Well, I suppose we ought to check back in on the normal universe, eh? I wonder what Kirk's been up to...he's a bit of a dweeb, but I did have a lot of fun screwing with him..."

"We do have a few reports from our inter-dimensional recon wing, but we've been so busy with The Answer that I hadn't had time to review them.  Wanna take a peak?" asked Moe.

"Abso-fucking-lutely," said Brownstone, as he keyed into his command computer and directed the limitless swarms of battleships that comprised the Octom war machine to return to formation. 

Announced by a brilliant sphere of electrical energy, a Voyager from the future arrived in the past with a vital mission.  He had to reach the US government agent Fox Mulder and help him...warn him.  Drained from his incantations, and the mind-bending horror of the scenes he had witnessed, he collapsed in a heap to rest.  He tried to push the visions of his world out of his mind, but it was impossible.  For in his future, stark madness and chaos had erupted from the depths of the Pacific and spread its perversion across the world.  Great Cthulhu and His Hordes had been loosed, and all the world had been washed in an orgy of slaughter and reveling, of anarchy and death.  He recalled those confused initial television reports as Cthulhu had lumbered across Asia, gibbering and destroying all in His path...His Hordes spreading like locusts to the rest of the world.  He would reduce whole armies to raving madmen instantly.  No weapons had any effect, for how can the weapons of man affect that which is not matter? Whole cultures began to follow the example of the cultists; hoarsely chanting newly learned praises while discarding all morals and reason.  Then, as the madness grew, general society had broken down.  The world he had fled through his use of forbidden rituals had been a post-apocalyptic realm of nightmare and insanity.  He had to help Mulder uncover the brutal Cthulhu Cult here, in the past, before they doomed the Earth and all tri-dimensional space to an unspeakable fate. 

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