Summary: What began as a living embodiment of entropy has, over the course of four years, become a touching story of a Purple Hypotenuse, a legion of Llamma Lancers, and the Functions of the Banana Nebula (and some main characters, but we'll get to them later). Keep adding to it!


If its any comfort, i started the page and i don't remember how it originally began anymore. --Nick


Once upon a time there was a Purple Hypotenuse. He was part of a bizarre equilateral love triangle with two twin sisters. The Purple Hypotenuse was the alpha and the omega of the universe as we know it, but his presence was as invisible and mysterious as the logic of the Hum Department. Through the whims of his EvilPlan, the Hypotenuse controlled all. You are part of his EvilPlan. I am part of his EvilPlan. Even BobDole is part of his EvilPlan (although, given the liberal nature of most of our likely readership, this may not surprise many of you). At the center of his EvilPlan is our hapless hero Sam, who has just taken on an unusual job.

"Strange," thought Sam as a trudged through the downpour, "that the dame didn't specify why she wanted this guy investigated. A hypotenuse, eh? I've heard that line before."

Three giant pickles appeared out of nowhere in front of Sam, turned into dancing potatoes, and disappeared.

"I hate it when that happens," thought Sam. "Gotta lay off the Crack Rock."

It turned out that a good friend of Crack Rock, Yobananboy the Monkey, was walking past. He heard this and immediately ran home to call his friend.

"Crack rock! You won't believe what I just heard."

"What is it Yobananaboy!" replied Crack Rock.

"I just overheard Sam saying that he's going to fire you for that pickle incident!"

"Curses, I knew I shouldn't have trusted those pickles. I wonder how he found out."

As Crack Rock pondered the implications of losing his job to sentient vegetables, the Continuity Fairy jumped into the story. She said, "Greetings, Crack Rock. You may not know it yet, but your purpose is much greater than you know."

"I didn't know that."

"Right. And that is why I have come to help you. I will grant you a wish if you promise to bring continuity to this story,"

Crack Rock agreed, "I wish for a puppy."

But the Fairy replied, "Sorry, I don't do animals."

"Than I wish for a plastic potted plant."

"I don't do silly wishes either."

"Than I wish for a car."

"Too big."

"I wish for something to eat."

"I don't feel like granting that wish."

Crack Rock got his last wish. He ate the Continuity Fairy.

With the continuity fairy gone, the universe turned in on itself, and nonsequitors and bad math puns ran amuck across all the lands. Mongol Hordes began to advance across the great steppe separating East from the colonies.

Seizing upon the new write angle, a gaggle of journalists camped out across from the great steppe. They were trampled under the unending wave of Mongols.

As the Mongol wave receded, there were enormous rip tides that took a few thousand tons of sand out of the steppe.

Monkey monkey monkey monkey monkey.

Banana banana banana banana.

Poor monkey number five. He doesn't get a banana.

Yes he has no banana.

Then the Riemann Integrability Fairy, en route to convergence with the limit position of the Continuity Fairy, opened up a partition and meshed emself into the story. But ey realized that ey wasn't needed; the discontinuities were limited to a countable set.

"Damn," said Sam, wiping sand from his shoes as the Mongols receded and tossing a banana to the fifth monkey, "this town's getting too rough for me."

"Indeed," said a voice from behind him.

Sam turned around. "Who are you?" he asked.

"That is the matter of some debate," replied the voice. "All you need to know, however, is that I currently hold the position of Continuity Fairy in these parts. Admittedly, my method of acquiring the position was a bit . . . unusual. But that's not important."

"Wait a minute," said Sam. "What do you mean, 'unusual'?" Are you or are you not an officially registered Continuity Fairy?"

"That I am. But only by mistake. You see, I committed a grievous offence against the Gods of Narrative Convention creating the chaos that you see before you. To expiate my sin, I must spend all of eternity working for them. I need your help with the task they have set me."

"Wait a minute," said Sam. "Don't you work for me? You're definitely fired now!"

A loud crash was heard from above, bringing a sudden halt to what was passing as a conversation. A dark figure appeared superimposed against the sky, and the bright day suddenly became slightly less bright.

A deep, booming voice echoed over the landscape. "Continuity Fairy! My arch-nemesis. The time has come to destroy you forever!"

"Oh no!" Crack Rock said to Sam. "The differentiability fairy! I haven't been the Continuity Fairy for very long! I don't know what I'm doing; He's gonna kill me! You gotta help me! I'm sorry about the Pickles, just help me Pleeeeeaaase!"

The pathetic sight before him softened Sam's demeanor. He wasn't such a bad guy after all.

"OK, quickly follow me!"

But it was too late. The Differentiability Fairy leveled a finger at the Crack Rock and a bolt of lightning crackled from the tip and struck Crack Rock squarely.

"Noooooooooooo!" The bloodcurdling scream escaped from Crack Rock's lips as he shattered and his remains began to dissolve into nothing.

"Buwhahahahahahahaha! Now I am the Continuity Fairy AND the Differentiability Fairy! From now on the concepts are united! Continuity is equivalent to differentiability! Buwahahahahahaha!"

Sam stared dumbfounded at the scene unfolding in front of him.

"You won't get away with this, you know," he said to the Differentiability Fairy. "The Gods of Narrative Convention do not look kindly on antics such as yours."

"I laugh at the puny Gods of Narrative Convention! Their powers are nothing compared to that which drives me! Now that I am both the Continuity Fairy and the Differentiability Fairy, I command the awesome might of Lemma: False! Nothing can stop me now! I am invinci--"

A shower of bananas rained down on the Differentiability Fairy, knocking him unconscious.

"Thanks, boys," said Sam. "That was a close one."

"Any time," said Yobananaboy the monkey, as he and his four companions emerged from their hiding places.


To celebrate the defeat of the Differentiability Fairy, everyone decided to eat a banana (as in, they each had a banana, not everyone eating one big banana). However, the bananas had somehow been drugged, and when Sam and his companions regained consciousness, they found themselves aboard a space ship orbiting the Earth. As they pondered what had happened to them, two large banana-shaped aliens walked in.

"We are from the Banana Nebula" explained one of the aliens (does it really matter which one?) "Our people are under attack! You must help us!"

"I'll help you!" cried the Crack Rock.

"But... but.. you're dead -- I saw you" stammered Sam.

"With the continuity fairy out of the picture, we don't need to worry about things like that," explained the Crack Rock.

A shower of bananas rained down on the Differentiability Fairy, knocking him unconscious.

"I'll help you!" cried the Crack Rock.

"We are from the Banana Nebula" explained one of the aliens (does it really matter which one?) "Our people are under attack! You must help us!"

"I'll help you!" cried the Crack Rock.

"OK, that's quite enough of THAT" said Sam as he pulled out his pocket knife and slit the throat of the unconcious differentiability fairy. "Now I am the differentiability and continuity fairy. And I say continuity shall be restored!"

"I'll help you!" cried the Crack Rock.

"Excellent!" declared one of the aliens (it still doesn't matter which one).

"But, why did your people send two aliens, given that it doesn't matter which one of you is speaking?" asked Crack Rock.

"Well..." muttered one of the aliens (who may or may not have already spoken, seeing as how it doesn't really matter), "The functions from the Banana Nebula create a lot of unneccesary redundancy. You might say that a lot of redundancy is created by the functions of the Banana Nebula. Redundancy is an unhappy by-product of having functions which are the type of functions that come from the Banana Nebula, as they did in fact come from the Banana Nebula, which is where redundant functions come from. Redundancy, as it comes from the func... hey! stop chewing on me!"

"Sorry," said Yobananaboy

"Anyway, you must save us from the fierce Llemma Llammas! Their Llemmas render us helpless and then they ransack our towns looking for... whatever llamas eat (guess someone should have done some research here). Their leader is the dreaded Llamma False."

"Fear not, alien strangers!" cried Sam, "We shall stop the Llemma Llammas so that your supplies of whatever llamas eat will be safe again."

"Good," responded an alien, "Because whatever it is we're probably running out of it."

"In fact", added another of the aliens, "our supplies of this substance are at an all time low. We could run out at any minute. The lowest levels ever recorded are those levels being currently recorded. Should we wait too long, we will run out completely, because if we continue to use it, and we don't have very much, we will use it all, because we have very little of the substance to which we are referring, and the amount of the substance to which we are referring currently in our position is small, miniscule, tiny, vanishing . . . Hey come back!"

Sam and the others had already begun moving towards the spaceship and climbing aboard, leaving the strange alien talking to himself. "If you leave and I don't, I will be here alone. Alone is the state in which I will be, and since I do not want to be alone, you must wait for me, because otherwise I will be in a state of undesirable loneliness, a state in which I do not want to be, because then I will be lonely."

As the spacecraft took off the alien managed to barely catch on to an exterior handhold and climb in through a convenient airlock. After all, he didn't want to be alone, and there was no time to waste.

Inside the spacecraft, Sam commented, "Does he do that all the time?"

Suddenly, a squadron of ships appeared and began firing on their vessel. "Oh no!" the alien cried, "This is a disaster! This is horribly bad! This is-"

"Shut up!" screamed Sam, "Who are these guys anyway?"

"They must be a fighter squadron from the Llemma Llammas!" concluded Crack Rock, who, despite not having any knowledge of the Llammas, decided to take the initiative in answering Sam's question before the alien could.

"Wait a second," said Sam, "These llammas have ships!?! Llamas don't have ships-"

"Llamma is spelled with two 'm's'." Corrected Crack Rock.

"Oh yeah," retorted Sam, "Well, you're supposed to end quotations with a comma, not a period. From now on I'm spelling lamah however I want."

"OK, you can spell 'lamah' however you want, but llamma is spelled with 2 l's and 2 m's dang-it" yelled Crack Rock, in a fit of rage.

"You're just not getting this whole comma thing, are you?" responded Sam.

"Guys! Guys! You're forgetting about the plot!" interupted the Continuity Fairy.

"Shut up! You're dead!" yelled both Sam and Crack Rock together.

"Sorry!" wimpered the defeated Continuity Fairy, who was in fact dead.

"Anyway... how do these llamas have ships?" asked Sam, "Lamas don't even have opposable thumbs!"

"Neither do any of us," responded Crack Rock.

"AUGH!!!! Mutants!" screamed Sam, as he accidentally slammed the eject button in the space vessel, flew out, collided with all the llamma ships simultaneously, disabled all of them (miraculously, with no loss of life), and, through an improbable series of ricochets, landed back inside the ship.

"How did that happen?" asked Sam.

"It was all part of my evil plan," said the purple hypotenuse.

"Who are you, and what are you doing in our ship?" asked Crack Rock (though the question was actually on everybody's mind).

"I am known as the Purple Hypotenuse... but the age-old question is: What is the Purple Hypotenuse?"

"Easy! You're the Purple Hypotenuse" answered Yobananaboy.

"Um... right." mumbled the Purple Hypotenuse, a bit disappointed at Yobannaboy's lack of respect for mystery.

"Sir," spoke Sam, "You're supposed to end quotations with a-"

"FOOLS!" roared the Purple Hypotenuse, as his purple cape flew back suddenly and a bolt of lighting struck in the background for no apparent reason, "How dare you correct ME! Don't you know that your lives and everything you do is part of my evil plan? Everything is part of my EvilPlan!"

"What about the things that aren't?" asked Crack Rock

"They are part of my evil plan by the very fact that they are not," responded the Hypotenuse, but seeing that no one was really satisfied with this explanation continued on to say: "OK, let's suppose I made up a complete diagram of my EvilPlan for posterity. Now, being a complete diagram, it would also have to mention things that are not part of the evil plan, so that agents of the evil plan will know that such things are not to be considered pat of the evil plan. Thus, these things have been incorporated into the infrastructure of the evil plan and are in fact part of the evil plan."

"So, Mr. Hypotenuse, what do you have in store for us next?" asked Crack Rock, who still didn't quite understand how he could be part of the evil plan, seeing as how he was supposed to be dead and all.

"Next, you are to fly to the Planet Fimo and challenge the great Llama Llord, ruler of the Lemma Llammas, and demand that he recall his vicious Llamma troops."

"Good, that's what we were going to do anyway."

"Oh... Well... carry on then," said the Hypotenuse before he disappeared in a flash.

"Well," said Sam, "It sure was nice of him to tell us where the Llama Llord is llocated."


One of the aliens (it doesn't really matter which) interjected, "I hate to spoil the mood and all, but we seem to be out of fuel. The fuel storage unit contains no fuel. I should point out that fuel is necessary to acheive propulsion, as our engines use the fuel to propel us. Our lack of fuel, unfortunately, will make it impossible to propel ourselves to the Planet Fimo, since that action would require fuel..."

"While I appreciate your use of good punctuation, I'm afraid we'll need to be moving on," said Sam. "Our first order of business to to obtain some fuel. Luckily, there should be ample fuel available on board the Llemma Llammas' ships."

"That's all well and good," replied the Crack Rock, "but those ships are still filled with vicious Llamma Llancers, the Llemma Llammas' elite troops. We wouldn't stand a chance against them!"

"Hmmmm, an interesting point." Sam paused for a moment. "Of course, we need only dress as Llemma Llamma Lladies! The Llemma Llamma Llancers' concentration will surely Llapse!"

"Don't you mean 'lapse'?" the Crack Rock pointed out.

"Oh yes, sorry. Got carried away there."

"Umm, but, disguising ourselves as Llamma Lladies would require that we have suitable disguises for the purpose, and we do not have such disguises, making such an endeavor impossible, as to do so we would need to disguise ourselves, which is something we cannot do, because ..."

"Enough!" cried Sam.

At that point, in a brilliant lapse of continuity, Crack Rock noticed that they were all clad in Llamma Llady costumes.

"Where did we get these costumes?" asked the alien. Just once for a change (notice that the question appears only once in the previous quotations, something uncharacteristic for this alien, since, as we've demonstrated, the aliens have a propensity for repetition and redundancy).

"We've been wearing them the whole time. We just never noticed before." explained Sam.

"Oh. OK. Moving on then..." said the Crack Rock.

Sam and the others boarded the escape pod and set off toward the largest of the Llamma vessels. Little did they know, but the Llegendary Llamma LLancellot, most fearsome of all the Llemma Llammas, was on board that vessel, sharpening his Llamma Llance. As he looked proudly at he sharpened Llance, Llancelot called out to the captain, "Good Sir, why hast we not boardeth the fair vessel of those foolhardy souls who would darest to oppose the Llamma Llord (may he live forever!)"

To this the captain replied: "Brave warrior Llancelot (may we sing his songs of praise!), I fearest that our primary propulsion engines have malfunctioned due to an untimely impact with one of the enemy."

"Alas, that brings me sorrow... but what is this I see before us? It appears to be an escape vessel approaching us."

"That it seems, brave Llancelot(may we sing his songs of praise!), but the vessel itself also appears to be of the Banananians of the Banana Nebula, and not from our own fair country. Shall I commence a hostile response, and let them feel the wrath that we may bring upon them?"

"Nay, good captain, for we know not of the inhabitants, if there be any." A signal was received from Sam's ship and Llancelot and the captain saw who was on board. "Ah ha! It is but a crew of fair Llama Lladies! How could we have thought to greet them with such distasteful manners?"

The captain activated the universal galactic standard autodock procedure to allow the escape pod to dock with his ship. Mere moments later, with a slight hiss, the escape pod door opened revealing our beleaguered heroes, disguised as beautiful Llamma Lladies, to the dangerous Llamma Llancers, who were waiting inside with great anticipation.

"Greetings, oh fair Llamma Lladies! How is't that we haveth the great fortune of rescuing such a welcome set of guests!" Cried out Llancelot.

One of the aliens (it doesn't really matter which) replied, "It is with great fortune and danger that we hath escaped from our foul captors! We were held prisoner on the foul Banana vessel, but our escape was timely, for if we had not escapeth, we would remain accursed prisoners, held by the evil bananas. Verily, we managed to escape, since (as you can see) we are here now, and now longer in the foul hands of our unchivalrous captors..."

The Llamma Llancers stared dumbfounded at the alien (disguised, of course, as a Llovely Llamma Llady). Luckily, Sam, in his best impression of the fair voice of a Llamma Llady (a task made far more difficult by the fact that he had never heard one before), interjected, "Oh noble and valient Llancers (may we sing their praise!)! Oh wise and chivalrous Llammas! A thousand songs of thanks to you! Our rescuers!"

Luckily for Sam, his first guess was absolutely correct, and he indeed sounded exactly like a Llamma Llady. Which surprised him more than anybody since he was just using his normal voice.

"Gee," whispered Crack Rock, "If not for the fact that we were dressed as Llamma Lladies talking pseudo-Shakespearean to a race of advanced Llammas who, despite having space travel technology, still use Llances to fight, this might actually be making sense."

"Let us celebrate and rejoice!" cried the Captain.

At that point, music suddenly sprung up from nowhere, and the Llamma Llancers produced large quantities of alcoholic beverages and began consuming them in amounts far exceeding those recommended by the manufacturers of the spacecraft they were piloting. In their race to become as drunk as possible as soon as possible, they entirely forgot about the group of Llamma Lladies standing before them, staring at the scene unfolding before them.

After a few minutes time, Sam tapped the captain on the shoulder and asked him where the fuel was.

"Ah, verily, tha fuuel is keeepst in the camportment yonder," answered the captain, gesturing toward a large compartment with the word "FUEL" stamped in large, clear red letters, just three feet away from Sam. As Sam turned to look, the Caption collapsed on the floor, completely unconscious.

"Oh." Sam opened the compartment and took the fuel module out of the compartment and slipped it into his pocket. Engines are really efficient these days, he thought to himself. He carefully stepped over the unconscious red letters on the floor.

Then he and his comrades simply walked back to the escape pod, undocked, and returned to the Banananian vessel. Installing the fuel module took only a moment, and then they were off in the vague general direction of Planet Fimo. They landed on the planet's surface and stepped out onto the ground, which felt like soft clay.

"Where could the Llamma Llord be?" wondered Crack Rock out loud.

"Hey," remarked Sam, "I think I hear singing in that direction." And indeed, jubilent singing could be heard, for the Llama Llord was making an appearance before his subjects, and singing his theme song (with great appologies to GilbertAndSullivan):


	Oh, better far to have a treat
	Stealing whatever llamas eat, 
	Than play a sanctimonious part 
	With a llama head and a llama heart. 
	Away to the Banana Nebula go you, 
	Where llammas all are well-to-do; 
	But I'll be true to the song I've roared, 
	And live and die a Llamma Llord
	For I am a Llamma Llord.
	And it is, I should be adored,
	For being a Llamma Llord
	For I am a Llamma Llord.
	You are! 
	Hurrah for the Llamma Llord!
	And it is, I should be adored,
	For being a Llamma Llord
	That's right! 
	Hurrah for the Llamma Llord!
	Hurrah for the Llamma Llord!

The great Llamma False, the Llamma Llord, turned to his subjects and said, "My dear people, I am afraid that dark times have befallen us. Our hated enemies, the Bananians, have attacked one of our peacekeeping squadrons of Llamma Lancers and are plotting to infiltrate our own planet! My advisors fear that assassins may already be among us, so I fear I must cut our ceremony short so I may retreat to my underground bunker. With this, the Llamma Llord left his podium, escorted by Llamma Llancer guards, and left.

"There he is!" whispered Crack Rock, "Let's infiltrate his underground bunker and confront him, just as the Purple Hypotenuse said."

Everyone agreed with this idea. However, as the party approached the entrance of the Llamma Llord's underground bunker, they were stopped by two Llamma Llancers guarding the entrance.

"I am sorry," said one of the Llancers, "But this is no place for Llamma Lladies. You should go home."

"We're not Llamma Lladies. We're your enemies in disguise," said one of the aliens.

"My apologies then," responded the red-faced guard, "You may proceed."

"That's just what we were about to do," Sam said in a punctuationally correct manner.

"Well, go on, then. Sorry to interrupt you."


So they continued to proceed. As planned, they infiltrated the underground bunker and confronted the Llamma Llord.

"Well, hello lladies," the Llama Llord said llewdly.

"Er, hello, Llord," said one of the alliens.

"Aliens," said either the Continuity or Differentiability fairy, it doesn't really matter which since they are one and the same, and both dead anyway.

"Shut up," said the Llama Llord, and ate the offending fairy.

"Thank you," said Sam.

"Anyway," said the Llama Llord, "what are you lladies doing here?"

"We're not lladies, we're your enemies in disguise."

"Oh. Okay, then." The Llamma Llord said in a punctuationally incorrect manner. Then he did a double take. "Wait, that doesn't answer my question!"

"We are here," said one of the aliens (the one on the left, though it probably doesn't really matter which) dramatically, "to denounce you as a False Llord!"

"OK, go ahead," said the Llamma Llord as he seated himself comfortably on top of the grapefruit.

Sam and the others stared at the famous Llamma for a few moments, with jaws slightly agape. Finally, the silence was broken. "You are a False Llord!" the aliens shouted in unison.

The crowd gasped. Never had such an insult been directed at their beloved Llord. Of course, they all whispered insults about him to each other, and many far worse than this, but they didn't actually direct them at the great Llamma False. Well not usually anyway.

One of the aliens continued, "The falseness of your Llordhood is little in doubt, for you are the Llemma Llamma Llord False, and are therefore a False Llemma Llama Llord. Since you are a false Llord, we denounce your falsehood, and also your Llordhood, because its falsitude it not in questi..."

As the alien continued, the murmurs in the crowd began to grow. Eventually, one cried, "Hast we been deceived? Do the fair maiden's words ring true, my Llord? Sayeth ist not so!"

The Llemma Llamma Llord False raised his hand and the crowd was silenced at once. Many continued moving their lips and gesturing wildly as though they were talking and murmuring to each other, but no sound came from their mouths. Many had taken to playing charades to get their message across, while others still were wildy scribbling on little pieces of paper and showing the writing to their neighbors. The Llord raised his other hand and they stopped also their nonverbal communication.

The Llord paused for a moment, and then spoke, "Alas, it is true, my noble subjects. I really shouldn't have flaunted it out in the open like that. What was I thinking anyway? Calling myself the 'Llord False'? My real name is the Llamma Melvin. Well, anyway, it's not like I'm a usurper or anything. Ah, geez, this is really embarassing. How should I say this? The real Llemma Llama Llord wanted to continue to do battle against our enemies."

As the powerful leader addressed the crowd, a lone figure entered the hall, clad in a dark cloak and carrying a gleaning Llemma Llamma Llance. The Llord glanced at him for a moment, and their eyes met. The Llord smiled.

"The true Llemma Llamma Llord is the brave Llemma Llamma Llord Llancelot! May we sing his songs of praise!"

"But I don't know that song," protested Yobananaboy.

Unfortunately, Yobananaboy spoke too loudly.

"Who is he who does not know my songs of praise?!" roared Llancelot. But as he saw Sam and his company, his temper softened. "Oh, it is the fair Llamma Lladies whom I rescued! My most gracious apologies!"

"We're not Llamma Ladies," corrected one of the redundant aliens, "we're-"

"Aardvarks!" interupted Sam.

"Aardvarks?" questioned the Llamma Llord Llancelot, "But of course, it all makes sense now!"

"No it doesn't," complained the Continuity Fairy, who was promptly eaten again.

"Clearly," continued Llancelot "you Llamma Ladies must have been hit with one of the memory destabilization rays that those evil aliens from the Bannana Nebula wield. That is why you have forgotten my songs of praise. That is why you have lost your identities and believe yourselves to be wandering nomadic aardvarks. Oh, what a tragic fate to fall upon such Lladies!"

"First, 'Banana' is spelled with two n's. And second, I actually really am an aardvark," mumbled Crack Rock, who really thought he was an aardvark. Of course, he had been an aardvark as long as he could remember. Than again, if there are memory destabilization rays in this story, maybe he wasn't, but Crack Rock couldn't recall having ever been hit with one.

"Tell us about these memory destabilization rays," said Sam.

"Oh, a mind is a terrible thing to lose," mourned Llancelot, "For you Lladies have even forgotten what this war is about. We fight the aliens from the Bannana Nebula because their memory destabilization rays are a great threat to us. Our completely unreliable spy network reports that they are building a memory destabilization ray of such magnitude that they will be able to fry Planet Fimo from across the universe!"

The aliens were quite confused, and not just because of the new Llord's poor spelling; they had never heard of memory destabilization rays. One of them inquired further: "But why would we... err... I mean, they, do that? What good would it do to erase your memories? What sort of benefit should be reaped? What profit is to be gained? What advance is to be made by such a move? Why won't I just shut up and let you answer so we can introduce a new plot point?"

"Why it is simple," answered Llancelot, "They are afraid that we Llammas are growing too quickly in number. They are afraid that soon we will consume every resource in the galaxy in our need to sustain our population. Therefore, they are attempting to destroy our memories so that we will forget what it is that Llammas eat, and hence never be a threat to their crops again."

"So what is it that Lomb-ahs eat?" asked Sam.

"Alas!" cried Llancelot. "How terribly insidious is this memory destabilization ray!"

"I don't know. How insidious is it?" inquired Sam.

"It's so insididious that..."

The dreaded Llamma Melvin interjected, "We're wasting time here. We must move fast. Llancelot, lead your people into battle against...um...give me a second. What were we doing here? Oh yes. We must destroy the memory destabilization ray from the Banana Nebula!"

At that, the crowd roared its approval, and within moments, they were rushing to their spaceships, carrying their gleaming Llances in hand. The largest mobilization of military Llammas ever seen in the galaxy had begun.

The purple hypotenuse smiled. Everything was going according to plan.

Sam and his company stood stunned for a second as they pondered how they could possibly prevent the inevitable bloodshed. As they waited for inspiration, a Llamma ship landed on Fimo, right next to them. A Llancer quickly ran out.

"Sorry I'm late, everyone. My ship got deactivated, and then we all got drunk, and someone stole our fuel. Wait, where is everyone?"

"Llancelot?!" yelled Sam, "This is impossible! You just left Planet Fimo two minutes ago to attack the Banana Nebula."

"Oh dear," cried Llancelot, "I was afriad this would happen. I sent my twin brother Llarry on a scout vessel ahead of my fleet to tell Llamma False that we would be late. But now he must have assumed my role and declared an attack on the Banana Nebula, and foolishly so, I am afraid. The people are so easily deceived, for there is but one way to tell Llarry and I apart."

"He spells "banana" with 3 n's?" guessed Crack Rock.

"Why, that is correct! How did you know?"

"I have a eye for these things."

"But now it is too late," cried one of the aliens in a frenzy. "Time has run out! The false - I mean, the Llama Llarry has already left to attack the Banana nebula, and now the time to stop the assault has past! The assault will continue, and there is nothing we can do about it, because-"

"This is incorrect," said a calm voice from within the Llama vessel. "There is, indeed, a way to prevent the assault." A religious leader emerged from the vessel. Everyone could tell he was a religious leader, because he wasn't carrying a llance, and there was a big shiny disc over his head.

"The Dalai Llama," whispered Sam in wonder.


"Actually, that's Mmerlin, the Militian," said Llancelot, "my most briliant military strategist."

"I suppose you're going to pull out King MacArthur? next," muttered Crack Rock rebelliously.

"Heavens, no," Llancelot and Mmerlin cried simultaneously.

"Our only Leader," explained Mmerlin, "is the Llord Llancelot. Start muttering about kings, and you'll soon have a rebellion on your hands! Why, next you'll be suggesting that some watery tart-"

"Enough," said Llancelot quickly. "Please, share your brilliant plan to stop Llarry's assault, or something."

"Or something, eh? Well, I do have some chocolates left over from..."

"Forget the 'or something.' Just share your plan to stop the assault."

"Well then," said Mmerlin. "The only good way to stop assault is to realize that it is soluble."

"That doesn't make any sense at all," replied Sam, confused.

"Ah, you only THINK it doesn't make any sense. Is it that it makes no sense, or are you senses failing you?" the mysterious Llamma replied.

"OK now I KNOW you're insane," Sam quirked.

"We Llamas are a much wiser and nobl..."

"'Llamma' is spelled with two 'm's," Crack Rock interupted.

"No it isn't! I think I know how to spell my own species," replied Mmerlin.

"Well, apparently you don't."

"All right, that's it! I'm looking it up." After a few moments the Militian had produced a great creaky tome and was flipping through it. "OK, let's see, livid, living, lixiviate, lizard, ah here it is. Llama! Spelled with one 'm'!"

"But, that's impossible! I've based my entire philosophy off the fact that 'Llamma' is spelled with two 'm's," cried the Crack Rock.

"And here you were giving ME a hard time about it..." Sam interjected, rather unhelpfully.

"But, if Llama is spelled with one 'm' what else about this adventure isn't real? Are these Llamas really here? Are we really on a distant planet?"

At that, one of the aliens kicked the Crack Rock in the shin.

"OW!" Crack Rock yelled as his shin dissolved, "That's assault and battery! Oh, wait, I guess it does make sense. A salt is soluble, isn't it? Right, then, carry on."

"Ahem," said Mmerlin.

"You didn't really need to do that, you know. We were all paying attention already. Unless you were clearing your throught, in which case wouldn't it have been easier to just clear your throught instead of saying 'Ahem'?" interjected Crack Rock.

"Don't make me pull out my rechargable assaultin' battery," warned Mmerlin.

"I'll be quiet."

"Right, then." Mmerlin pulled out a large tome with bits of paper sticking out from odd angles, pieces of tape falling off the sides. A scattering of words on cut-up pieces of paper fell to the floor.

"What's that?" asked Crack Rock.

Mmerlin looked sternly at Crack Rock. "I thought you were going to be quiet."


"What's that?" asked Sam.

Mmerlin attempted to look somber and majestic and succeeded in at least one. "This... is the script!"

The crowd gasped.

"But... but... you can't do that! That's impossible! Illegal! Irresponsible! It shouldn't be done!" complained one of the aliens (it really doesn't matter which one).

"It worked in Spaceballs," Sam pointed out.

"Indeed," Mmerlin continued. "And it shall work for us! Watch and be amazed as the future plot is disclosed!" Mmerlin opened the book to a later section, pulling out some reading glasses as he did. "Hmm. Onions, drag queens, lasers... Oh, there's a nice song about your secret identity, Crack Rock. Oh, dear, I shouldn't have read that bit." The room stood quietly in suspense. Except for Crack Rock, who was busy trying to figure out whether he was supposed to be confused. "Curses! This thing jumps around like an army of banana slugs on pogo sticks!"

"Halt!" exclaimed a voice, in a shrill falsetto.

"Excuse me," said Mmerlin sternly. "I was just in the middle of explaining the script to my companions here."

"I said, halt!" said the voice, even more shrilly than before. A hole in the ground opened up, revealing its source: an oddly humanoid onion in a frilly dress, with just a hint of a moustache above its mouth, and holding a sleek but deadly-looking object in its right hand. "If you explain any more of the story to these people, I will be forced to seize all of you."

"You and what army?" asked Sam, who was beginning to get tired of all these sudden, pointless plot twists.

"Well, I'm sure that my secret agent, who is even now among you, will gladly aid me in my endeavors," said the onion. Crack Rock suddenly shuddered, as a long-forgotten memory struggled to surface. "And, if that does not prove sufficient, an army can be arranged."

A shadow passed over the sun. The earth began to shake. Suddenly, from all around the gathered Llamas, there appeared a veritable forest of pogo sticks, each bearing an enormous and dangerously armed slug. As they approached, the onion began to sing:

 I am the very model of an onion diabolical
 In dresses pink I clothe myself, and curse my wayward follicle
 Into a convoluted plot I enter inefficiently
 And don't make sense, not even if you know all things omnisciently
 My army marches onward, though it's made up of banana slugs
 There's nothing that can rhyme with them, except perhaps bandana rugs
 They hop along on pogo sticks, which may not seem quite serious...
 Hmm... serious...
 And terrify the Llamas with my evil plans delerious.

 My hidden spy will show up soon and finish off the farce at hand;
 I'll celebrate by breakfasting on pancakes made with marzipan.
 In short, when you consider me down to the final molecule
 I am the very model of an onion diabolical.

 In short, when we consider him down to the final molecule
 He is the very model of an onion diabolical.

As the onion's song ended, the room erupted in a flood of tears. "We have been duped," cried Sam. "All the events that have unfolded this day were merely the machinations of this malevolent marzipan-eating maniac!"

"All hope is lost," cried some random alien. "No matter what we do, the vegetable wins!"

"Yes," cried another alien, "it is fruitless!"

"Alas," cried Llancelot, "my eyes sting!"

"Calm down," said Mmerlin, and pulled out a flamethrower.

"You got my attention," said the onion.

Suddenly, the immense thundercloud which had been building unnoticed overhead during the onion's song let forth a lightning bolt, which landed between the opposing groups. No one moved as a huge, toga-clad figure with bushy black hair and mustache descended slowly from the crowd. "Lo!" cried Mmerlin, "It is the God of Parody, he whose name may not be spoken!"

("It's Al", whispered Llancelot to Sam.)


"Parody what now?" Sam started to ask, but stopped in suprise at finding himself out of the Llama Llady costume and now wearing a ragged pirate-sailor costume. The onion was now wearing an anthropomorphic-onion-shaped Victorian-era British officer's uniform (complete with plumed hat), Llancelot (who was, after all, the true Llama Lleader) and his attendant Llama Llancers were all in pirate costume, while the banana slugs appeared to be costumed as policemen, and his Llama-Llady-disguised companions were now disguised as Llama Lladies wearing Victorian dresses. Also, there was now a rather attractive girl beside him, also wearing a Victorian-style dress.


"Yes, 'tis Maaaaaaa-a-a-a-aaaaaaa-a-a-a-aaaaaaaa-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-bel," sang Mabel.

"I WILL LEAVE YOU NOW", concluded Al, still booming. "BUT REMEMBER MY COMMAND. AND KNOW ALSO THAT I AM NOT SO EASILY IGNORED AS A MERE CONTINUITY FAIRY." He began to recede back into the thundercloud, but quickly paused and added, as an afterthought, "OH, AND BEFORE I GO..." Everyone present burst into song:


 Hail, Parody, thou heaven-born guy!
 Thou art really great, we cannot tell a lie.
 Hail, flowing font of humor weird.
 All hail, hail Al, our Yankovic dear! 

By the time they were done, he was gone.

Whereby gone, it should be said that Al was integrated by partial fractions by the Reimann integrability fairy, and thus no longer relevant as he was divided up all over the universe. Al had been interfering with its plans to integrate reality by parts, but now there was no one to stand in its way. It cackled maniacally.

"Why did we ever let the Reimann Integrability Fairy converge on the limit position with continuity? Its too powerful!" bemoaned Crack Rock.

"At least we won't have to continue the parody." sighed Sam with relief. Relief, however, would have preferred that Sam ask first.

"Where were we anyway?" asked Yobananaboy.

"We were being surrounded by slugs on pogos in service to the onion diabolical, who is very diabolical and very evil and had summoned his army to confront us, so that his evil plot would proceed...," said one of the aliens (who may or may not have said anything yet, though at this point the probability he hasn't said anything is becoming quite small).

"Were." stated Mmerlin as he fried the onion with his flamethrowers. The pogo-slugs stared menacingly. Then the redundantly redundant aliens from the Banana Nebula opened up a can of assault and battery, which, being assault, and their opponents being slugs, had deleterious results on the slugs. They dehydrated rapidly.

"Thaaa-aaa-aaank yoo-OO-oo," sang Mabel, badly. She then promptly disappeared in the jet of flame from Mmerlin's flame thrower.

"And that was enough of that!" Mmerlin stated emphatically. Applause followed.


"Excuse me," said one of the aliens from the Banana Nebula (Not that we care if he may or may not have spoken already, but it is quite possible that this is the first time this particular alien from the Banana Nebula has spoken), "But what are we to do about the Llamma Llancers about to attack our fair planet. They are voyaging to our planet for the purposes of attacking it, and they are many Llamma Llancers in number, and travelling very fast, and when they reach the planet they will attack it."

"But canst thou seest thy true enemy!" spake Llancellot excitedly.

"No", said Yobananaboy.

"For shame, neither do i," spake Llancellot sadly.

"It's the Purple Hypotenuse!" exclaimed Crack Rock in a burst of logical reasoning.

"I've heard that line before," said Sam.

"It's not a line, it's the Purple Hypotenuse." Crock Rock argued.

"A hypotenuse is a line. The larger side of a right triangle," Sam pointed out.

"Oh, right."

"Hey, wait a minute, aren't you usually the one who points out these inconsistencies?" Sam asked.

"Um... uh... I must not... um... be feeling well. Yes, I'm dreadfully ill. Oh, la, I think I may faint," Crack Rock exclaimed as he raised the back of his hand to his forehead.

"Yes, anyway. As I was saying, I've heard that line before," said Sam.

"You already said that. You've said that before. That would be a repetition of a previous statement. You are not stating something new," pointed out one of the aliens (Who may have spoken for the first time the time before this statement that he is speaking right now, we're not really sure).

Sam blinked. "Like you're one to talk. Anyway. I have heard this line before. A hypotenuse is a line. Thus, I must clearly have heard the Purple Hypotenuse!" Sam pointed off into the crowd as the lookers-on gasped in shock at what was revealed before them.

It was...

No, it couldn't have been.

But it was.

It was...

...the horizon!

The aliens stared. It stretched in straightness and linearity in both directions. It was not bent. It was perfectly flat, and went on forever, being a line. And, being a line and going on forever, it had no end, which is to say that there was no way to stop it.

The llammas stared. It was the edge of the world. It had, of course, always been there, but they had never noticed it before - or if they had, they had forgotten, perhaps due to something like, or perhaps entirely unlike, a memory destabilization ray. Or perhaps... a memory destabilization line?

Crack Rock stared. It was a straight line. Then, as the others were all trying to figure out how a horizon was behind everything, Crack Rock suddenly remembered something. He skipped forward past the gathered Llamas and Sam's companions, stopped, and turned about three times. (About was rather upset, but what can you do). In wonder, the gathered crowd stared as Crack Rock was revealed as... a woman?

'What?' said Sam?

'Tee hee', Crack Rock giggled. Then ran off and hugged the horizon.

That was when Sam realized he'd only met Crack Rock shortly after he'd taken that job, about the equilateral love triangle.

That was when Yobananaboy realized that an Alien from the Banana Nebula, it doesnt matter which one, doesn't taste much like bananas.

That was when an Alien from the Banana Nebula, only relevant as to which one insofar as the preceeding comment is concerned, realized that it was being tasted by Yobananaboy, who apologized. Not only may said alien not have spoken yet, but it isnt certain that it spoke in this instance either.

'I remember', cried Sam, 'I was hired to investigate a purple hypotenuse!' He was mostly ignored by everyone else.

'Excuse me,' said one of the Aliens from the Banana Nebula, who, while it is highly unlikely he hasn't spoken yet, that remains a possibility. 'But those Llama Llancers are still threatening our planet, and will be attacking our planet, and taking whatever it is that llamas eat. And our planet will be attacked by them, and whatever it is llama's eat will be taken.'

'Oh, right,' said Mmerlin. 'Well, as i was saying, there is an easy solution.' Sam started walking out to where the horizon was holding the woman formerly known as Crack Rock. 'You see, they have with them the dreaded Llama False. However, once we invoke Llama False, anything follows. So, for instance, it follows that the Llama Llancers will not attack the Banana Nebula.' In the distance, Sam was talking to the horizon.

'Egads!' cried Llancelot, 'Those fiends! They both will and will not attack the Banana Nebula!.

'Focus on the bright side,' said Mmerlin, 'They'll only take half of whatever it is that llamas eat.'

Away from the crowd still gathered about Mmerlin, Sam was staring dumbfounded at the horizon.

'So you mean to tell me that all this happened to get me to bring Crack Rock... err... whatever her name is...

'Crack Rockette,' interrupted the Purple Hypotenuse.

...'all the way out here to you?' continued Sam.


'And the memory destabilization stuff?'

'To keep you from remembering what you were supposed to be doing.'

'So how does that put you back in the good graces of the lady who hired me?'

'I am the horizon,' said the Purple Hypotenuse, 'I am on every world. I made the mistake of falling in love with two women in the same town. Now she'll no longer notice'.

'Wait, you mean you love women on every world?'


'So it wasn't a love triangle, it was a...'

'Love G63ahedron or somesuch, yes, yes, what of it?'

Sam sighed. 'So now how do i get back home?'

'Think of the horizon you'd like to see, and walk over me. That'll take you home right quick.'

Back in the push of people, Mmerlin and company were still debating the impact of having invoked Llama false, having completely forgotten about Sam, Crack Rockette, and the horizon, which may or may not have involved a memory destabilization ray.

"Well, I guess that settles everything," said Sam. "Now I can go home, close this case, and this 4-years-in-the-making story can finally end."

"Now wait just one bloody second!" cried a shrill voice from behind.

"Ah, shit!" yelled everyone who was hoping for an ending (both real and in the context of the story).

Everyone turned to see that it was one of the redundant aliens who had objected.

"You think you're so smart, Mr. Hypotenuse. You may think that this is all part of your EvilPlan to cover up your flagrant womanizing, but in actuality, your plan is nothing but a subset of my EvilPlan. Yes, I am the woman who hired Sam to investigate you, I am the one who drugged the bananas, and I am the one who set you up to arrange this entire war so that I could find out what you were doing behind my back, you dirty two-timer... er... I mean, you dirty G63-timer!"

"I was wondering about the bananas," remarked the Purple Hypotenuse, "but I don't recall ever loving you. You're not even a woman. You're some asexual banana or something."

"How is that different from a regular banana?" asked Yobananaboy.

"It's hard to explain," answered Mmerlin.

"Well, I'd really like to know," complained Yobananaboy, "because I've been eating bananas my entire life and no one ever told me that they might have sexual orientations."

"Silence!" yelled the alien who had revealed itself to be a lover of the Hypotenuse (who is thus no longer redundant), "I am not really an alien from the Banana Nebula. This mask I wear is actually a disguise!"

"Isn't that what a mask generally is?" asked Sam.

"Must be an after effect of pretending to be an alien from the banana nebula," muttered Yobananaboy.

"Ummm... OK, I guess that did sound pretty stupid," admitted the alien, "but my point was that I am actually (Dun Dun Dun...) the Continuity Fairy!"

The Continuity Fairy shed her disguise and appeared in her full beauty. At the sight of her, the Purple Hypotenuse remembered why he loved her and almost felt sad for having cheated on her.

The remaining random alien was displeased with this, for now he was no longer indistinguishable from the other random alien, and people would now know when he was talking. Sam was also displeased, but for different reasons.

"What the hell?!" screamed Sam, "First of all, you've been eaten several times. Second, we've seen you and the then-redundant alien in the same room together."

"You will note that those are breaks in continuity, which I am able to control," explained the Continuity Fairy, who was then eaten by a duck that just happened to be waddling by.

"Furthermore," continued the Continuity Fairy, "I will now use my power to break up the continuity of a certain line I am most unhappy with right now."

"You mean that line about assault and battery?" asked Yobananaboy, "That one was pretty corny."

"Hey!" shouted Mmerlin, "I like that joke."

"No, you idiots!" said the Continuity Fairy, "I'm going to break up the continuity of the Purple Hypotenuse, splitting him up into an infinite number of infinitesimal pieces!"

"You wouldn't dare," challenged the Hypotenuse. Though secretly, the Hypotenuse was pleased. Everything was progressing according to his EvilPlan.

"Not my dearest Hypotenuse!" begged Crack Rockette.

"But what about us?" asked Sam, "And what about that war going on? And what about this poor alien who now has to own up everything he says? What will you have done with us?"

"You will have to deal with your own troubles. I have no interest in the fate of the Banana Nebula. You should feel lucky that I do not crush you for having helped the Purple Hypotenuse with his EvilPlan."

"But by following the Hypotenuse we helped you with your EvilPlan."

"Yes, but you didn't know that. You were directly helping the Hypotenuse."

"We didn't know what his plan was."

"But nonetheless you were working under his plan."

"Which was a subset of your plan, meaning we were ultimately working for you!"

"It would seem that they were working both for and against you," added Mmerlin, "seeing as how they worked for your rival and yourself. Thus, Llama False is the one who is ultimately fufilled."

"If I may interrupt this meta-wanking," said Llancelot, "I should like to explain why the everyone here should be concerned with the attack on the Banana Nebula. You see, as I was going to explain earlier, I was going to report to the citizens of planet Fimo that the Banana Nebula does not have any memory destabilization rays, nor whatever llamas eat. Alas, these were all stolen by a far more threatening foe: the Giant Pickle Gang!"

"Wait a minute!" cried Sam, "It all makes sense now! None of this would have happened if I hadn't seen those three-"

Suddenly, Planet Fimo was engulfed in a gigantic ray, and everyone looked very confused.

"So, what were we talking about?" said Sam.

"I don't know," said Llancelot, "who are you? And what do llamas eat? I can't remember for some reason."

"Why am I dressed in this stupid fairy costume?" asked the Continuity Fairy.

"Hey, stop that!" yelled the alien from the Banana Nebula, as Yobananaboy had started nibbling on him.

"Eek! A talking banana!" yelled Yobananaboy.

"Holy crap! A talking monkey!" yelled everyone else.

The Purple Hypotenuse laughed evily and disappeared. Was this the end?

I added chapter headings to this story. I realize this is against the spirit of the story being rambling stream-of-conciousness silliness, but since it's soooo long, I felt that retroactively added chapters made it less intimidating. Remove/change them if you hate them. Or, if we continue with them, don't make up chapters as you write. Only add retroactively. -Allex

For other fun Ideas: GroupStoryOne GroupStoryThree GroupStoryFour GroupStoryFive GroupStorySix NaNoWriMoGroupStory

See also: FunctionsFromTheBananaNebula


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