Trump has disbanded the Senate and declared himself Supreme Ruler of the United States, backed by Russia.
In the UK, Parliament has been overthrown and Farage installed as Conqueror For Life.
All major cities have been walled off, and small bands of rebels fight to survive in the wastelands of the US and England.
The Story So Far: PUNCHFIST! has been sent on a voyage to America by Jeremy Corbyn to destroy the secret testicle (and fanny) punching machine created by Trump, but there is skullduggery afoot
Now read on…
As PUNCHFIST! and Spodworthy made their way through the packing crates of the make-shift dock a young ne’er do well in an oversized flatcap and coat, braces holding his trousers up, a bit of coal dust on each cheek and a cockney demenour sidled up to them in a ‘cor blimey’ manner.
“Excuse me, Mr. PUNCHFIST!, sir, strike a light and no’ mistakin’,” said the chirpy gutter snipe as he took a moment to jump up and click his heels together and nod a cheeky wink at them. “If ain’t be moi place nor nuffink nor never cor blimey apples and stairs lumme o’crikey to say nuffink not never out of order nor etc, but I have this ‘ere message to give to you in a lovable cockney manner, dog and phone, plate of feet, and so on and so forth.”
“Of course, young stereotype!” boomed PUNCHFIST! in the quietest way possible, which caused several dogs to howl and glass to shatter in all buildings in a ten mile radius, and held out his hand.
The cockney street urchin handed a folded piece of paper over, and with a cheeky smile and another wink for good measure he scampered off into the darkness to rob an old lady.
PUNCHFIST! opened the message. ‘TRUST NO ONE!’ it said. Intriguing. PUNCHFIST! would have to contemplate the meaning of this omen, as soon as he’d met with the Captain of the ship he was to sail on, The Jolly Bastard.
“Aye, we be sea-faring folk,” said the Captain as he hobbled over on one leg, the other a pegleg. He had an eyepatch, a parrot on his shoulder which kept squawking ‘DON’T TRUST THE BASTARD’, and a hook for a hand. “Just humble traders on the high seas, is all. I be The Dread Captain Kill the Passengers and Chuck Them Into the Briny – er, I mean, I be Captain Susan, and this be my merry band of legitimate seafaring businessmen. I hear tell ye want passage to the promised land, eh?”
“No! Just America!” yelled PUNCHFIST!
“Aaaarrr,” said Susan. “There be many rich plunderings to be ‘ad over there, there be. Doubloons and so forth. But not for the likes of me and my crew.”
“We must make haste,” said Spodworthy, glancing around. “Already Farage and his micro-penised bully boys could be on their way. Hurry!”
“All hands to the decks, ya cursed scum!” yelled Susan as he turned to the crew who gave a mighty cheer, raising cutlasses and the odd blunderbuss into the air. The Jolly Roger was hoisted up the fore mast and they set sail for the open sea.
PUNCHFIST! stood on the forecastle deck, contemplating the universe and his need to punch it, when Susan hobbled over to him and ‘Aaaarrr’-ed in greeting.
“I hear tell they call you ‘PUNCHFIST!’?” enquired Susan with a contemplative leer.
“PUNCHFIST!” yelled PUNCHFIST! “Er, I mean, I am merely a traveller to foreign climes wishing to experience the free state that is America, and not overthrow the crooked regime by PUNCHING IT! PUNCHFIST!”
“I am a wily old seadog,” said Susan. “Me and my travelling companions, Cutthroat McSlicey, Stabbyhead O’Knifey and the rest of us know a fellow pugilist when we sees one. That we do.”
“What is this ‘pugilist’ you speak of?” asked PUNCHFIST!
“It be someone who uses their fists,” said Susan. “Someone who uses their fists – dramatic pause – to PUNCH!”
“PUNCHFIST!” yelled PUNCHFIST! “I mean, ‘PUNCH… NOTHING!”
“Ye be PUNCHFIST!,” said Susan. “But ye secret be safe with us. For, after all, don’t we all have our own secrets. But me, Robby McStealy, Plunder O’Bastard and Pirate O’Definitely, are just salty trading sea dogs, and be but innocent in the game of treachery.”
With a throaty pirate laugh Susan hobbled off to splice a mainsail and keel haul a swab.
PUNCHFIST! watched him go. There was something off about Susan. Something which may require a punching remedy to sort out.
“I say,” said Spodworthy as he sat down beside PUNCHFIST! that evening. “I get the strangest feeling Susan isn’t being entirely honest with us. Last night I caught them gathered around a brazier having a cackling competition, drinking grog, and plundering a couple of passing sailboats. I’d almost hazard that they were pirates.”
“PUNCHFIST! has seen no evidence of this!” yelled PUNCHFIST! “Susan has been most pleasant to PUNCHFIST! and invited him to sit at the Captain’s table last night.”
“Really? What did you have?”
“Nothing!” yelled PUNCHFIST! “I punched the table and broke it before dinner could be served. Captain Susan then asked if I was willing to wager your testicles in a fight with his Quartermaster, Jemima.”
“And you said?”
“Yes!” yelled PUNCHFIST! “PUNCHFIST! would never back down from a fight! PUNCHFIST!”
“Of course not,” said Spodworthy.
That night the crew gathered with much cutlass waving and ‘ah-harrrs’ on the Main Deck as PUNCHFIST! and a large eight foot wall with arms and a concrete block for a head squared up in front of each other, Susan between them.
“Now, remember, ye scurvy seadogs, I wants no playin’ fair!” he said to the two combatants. “As much eye gouging and dirty tricks as ye want, and remember the pirate code – the testicles are there to be gnawed on!”
“Wait a second!” yelled Spodworthy, jumping between them. “Did you say ‘pirate code’? Why, we were led to believe this was a legitimate trading vessel and our passage (ooer, obviously) would be safe.”
“Well, ye be wrong,” ah-harr’d Susan. “Now out of the way, ya landlubbin’ strumpet’s four eyed twat, for there be fightin’ to be had!”
Jemima flexed his monumentally huge pecs and slammed one enormous fist into his equally enormous palm, producing a sound like a thunderclap. He extended one finger like a tree trunk and jabbed it at PUNCHFIST!
“I WILL DESTROY Y –“
“PUNCHFIST!” yelled PUNCHFIST!, and slammed a fist into Jemima’s lantern jaw, knocking him out.
There was silence.
“Of course, when I said ‘pirate code’, I really meant ‘lovely happy bunny code,” said Susan, slinking off into the shadows, but PUNCHFIST! reached a mighty hand down and plucked him off the ground.
“PUNCHFIST! put his trust in you!” yelled PUNCHFIST! “Now all is subterfuge and skullduggery. PUNCHFIST! feels like PUNCHING SOMETHING!”
“Yes, we be pirates, but lovely ones,” pleaded Susan. “Anyway, we be havin’ problems with our masculinity. We be only plundering and lootin’ to hide our own inadequacy.”
“Aye, it be true,” said Quartermaster Jemima as he stepped forward, rubbing his jaw. “Some of us has trouble accepting our place in society. All we wants is peace and harmony.”
“Look!” said Spodworthy, pointing behind everyone. “A galleon full of gold!”
“PLUNDER AND LOOT IT!!” yelled Susan as the entire crew pulled out their weapons and span around to see nothing but empty sea.
“’Peace and harmony’ is it?!” yelled PUNCHFIST!, shaking Susan. “You may be pirates, but all PUNCHFIST! wants to know is who has paid you to betray me?!”
“Betray you?” said Susan. “Why, no one has, young PUNCHFIST! We still be on a stable course for the United States. We be part of the revolution, so we be.”
“Then what…? Who…?” PUNCHFIST! was confused. The message said to trust no one, yet he had no evidence NOT to trust Susan and his crew. This confused PUNCHFIST!, and when PUNCHFIST! got confused there was much fist-related tomfoolery to be had.
He punched a passing whale and felt better.
“Maybe they be talkin’ about the other side,” said Susan with a knowing nod. “I be careful once I be over there. That’s all I be sayin’. Aaarrrr.” He hobbled off to plunder a packet of cheese and onion crisps.
“He may be right,” said Spodworthy. “After all, what do we know about this so called ‘General Ironballs’? Nothing. We must be careful.”
“CAREFUL!” yelled PUNCHFIST!, and carefully punched a passing shipmate for emphasis.
COULD THERE BE BETRAYEL IN THE FUTURE OF PUNCHFIST!? WILL IRONBALL TURN OUT TO BE LEGIT!? DOES RICHARD SPENSER HAVE A REALLY SMALL PENIS (YES)?
Tune in next week folks for episode four of