Shark Horse (Part 20): A Sharkwork Orange (Or: the DolphiNazi Invasion)
“My name is Lt. Aldo Raine and I’m putting together a special team, and I need me eight soldiers. Eight Jewish-American soldiers. Now, y’all might’ve heard rumors about the armada happening soon. Well, we’ll be leaving a little earlier. We’re gonna be dropped into France, dressed as civilians. And once we’re in enemy territory, as a bushwhackin’ guerrilla army, we’re gonna be doin’ one thing and one thing only… killin’ Nazis. Now, I don’t know about y’all, but I sure as hell didn’t come down from the goddamn Smoky Mountains, cross five thousand miles of water, fight my way through half of Sicily and jump out of a fuckin’ air-o-plane to teach the Nazis lessons in humanity. Nazi ain’t got no humanity. They’re the foot soldiers of a Jew-hatin’, mass murderin’ maniac and they need to be dee-stroyed. That’s why any and every every son of a bitch we find wearin’ a Nazi uniform, they’re gonna die. Now, I’m the direct descendant of the mountain man Jim Bridger. That means I got a little Injun in me. And our battle plan will be that of an Apache resistance. We will be cruel to the Germans, and through our cruelty they will know who we are. And they will find the evidence of our cruelty in the disemboweled, dismembered, and disfigured bodies of their brothers we leave behind us. And the German won’t not be able to help themselves but to imagine the cruelty their brothers endured at our hands, and our boot heels, and the edge of our knives. And the German will be sickened by us, and the German will talk about us, and the German will fear us. And when the German closes their eyes at night and they’re tortured by their subconscious for the evil they have done, it will be with thoughts of us they are tortured with. Sound good?”
– Lt. Aldo Raine, Inglourious Basterds
“Let’s settle this like fucking marine mammals!”
– Me, the last installment of this fucking series
Chances are, if you’re reading this, you’re just a simpering, scrawny human. Hell, I don’t care if you’re Junior fucking Dos Santos; the mightiest human on the god damn planet is a flaccid fucking milquetoast next to a killer whale. Or a wolf. Or a combination of both. What I’m saying is: if you can read this, you are no match for the fucking Sea Wolf.
And I’m the fucking Sea Wolf. At the moment, there were a couple different thoughts racing through my enhanced predatory mind.
One: it was oh, so satisfying to hear the loud SNAP of the orichalcum restraints that had held me to the cold metal of the table in the secret space-laboratory of the evil Nazi submarine.
Two: fuck. I was still in space and I hated space. And I was groggy as hell, seeing as I had just woken up. And I was PISSED OFF! I was vaguely aware that I was dashing around the laboratory in the large space-sub and bellowing threats at the DolphiNazis around me. Other than the fact that my speech was peppered with liberal use of the word “motherfucker,” I wasn’t really paying attention to what I was shouting. My father, such as he was, was probably trying to get a bead on me. He wouldn’t be able to, of course; he was Josef Mengele and Walt Disney in the body of a sewer rat, and I was the fucking Sea Wolf. Nevertheless, I saw him out of the corner of my eye, barking orders to his subordinates. If I knew Dad, he’d be so mad at me later; after all, my escape from his restraints had embarrassed him in front of his Führer. Oh, well, Dad, should have bought stronger straps. Not that it would have mattered. Ain’t no pansy-ass straps can hold a fuckin’ Sea Wolf.
The third thought racing around my mandibled melon was the question of what the hell I’d do next. My comrades, such the hell as they were, were still strapped to metal tables. Shark Horse was still fighting against his straps like a bitch; I’d gloat later that I’d broken free first, but for the moment, I’d let him go, I guess. I began to dash toward the table my erstwhile nemesis was tied down to; next to him was Grandpa McAlister, whose vampiric blood was slowly healing the hole is his chest. I figured I’d free Shark Horse, then we’d kill everybody there, then sort everything else out.
“Wait, Lupa!” the hideous Mengele-Disney rat called out to me in its odd, echoing voice, “Don’t do it, my son!”
Son! Hadn’t heard him call me that in decades. I stopped running. All around me, an army of dolphins, each one swaddled in a red Swastika armband, stared me down. Their hideous, chirping laughter echoed all around the hollow metal of the giant Nazi submarine. At the forefront was their Fürher, a skinny creature with a curtained spurt of black human hair and a little toothbrush moustache. Mengele had claimed that this DolphiNazi was both Adolf Hitler and Lawrence Sigo. As in, the father of Shark Horse Lawrence Sigo. I wondered if it were true; the way Shark Horse had wailed like a bitch, he at least seemed to think it was.
“Lupa, my boy,” the rat-creature that held the mind of the man who made me into what I am today said, “Why are you trying to save this… what did you call him? ‘Faggo?’ Why save Joseph Faggo when your place is here, with us?”
I turned to look at the creature. “With you? You abandoned me in Sharkham Asylum!”
Mengele smiled. “Abandoned you? No, Lupa, you know I would never abandon you. But you were still learning; still developing; and I didn’t want to risk your safety during the Second Second World War.”
“MY SAFETY?” I demanded, dashing over to stare my rat-father right in his beady little eyes, “Nothing can hurt me!”
I didn’t know if that was completely true. But I was pissed. Mengele, still grinning his slimy little grin, reached up with his spindly little paw and gently touched my nose.
“I know that now, son. I’ve watched the news on Earth with pride. Your murders. The glorious slaughter of that wretched band, CAKE. The killing of Commissioner Gallardo. The destruction of Lucy Aberzeen. Beautiful.”
“Well, I didn’t kill Lu-” I started.
“Ssssshhhh,” Mengele whispered, “I am sorry for all I put you through, my son. But you must understand, it was necessary; everything that has transpired has done so according to my design. I needed you to be in Sharkham until World War II Part II was over. But after it was, I arranged the circumstances of your escape. It was I who booked CAKE for that particular night in Santa Ana, using my contacts in the music industry. Just as it was I that fed my former mentor, Dr. McAlister, all the necessary information for him to suggest a trip to Atlantis. I knew this would be the start of the fulfilling of the prophecy; Lucy Aberzeen’s psychiatrist also worked for me. It was I that told him to encourage her in her fish-fellating ways, even telling her the best location to find Lady Shark Horse! I knew this would lead to the Great Abomination’s attack on Santa Ana, which would lead to Shark Horse bringing the Force Field of Necrotosis right to me! You see? Everything! Every detail that brought you here, is but the culmination of a seventy-year scheme to bring about the rise of the Fourth Reich!”
“Bull fucking shit,” I said, “You’re not that smart. Nobody is.”
“It’s true, my boy, and our plan nears completion; The Führer has risen again! We have Shark Horse, and with him the Force Field of Necrotosis! We have brought the two immortals, Dr. McAlister and Clooney, aboard our vessel, and soon the secret of their everlasting life will be ours as well. Do you understand, Lupa? I want you to join us! You are my favorite; my greatest creation.”
I was struck dumb.
“B-b-b-bullshit,” I stammered, “Shark Horse was your favorite.”
Mengele shook his head. “No, my boy, of course he wasn’t. I was just using him to get the Force Field of Necrotosis. It was always you: and now I need you by my side. I want you to lead our army. I want you to be Reichsführer of the Waffle-SS; and lead this army upon Santa Ana, to turn it into the New Berlin; from there, to the world!”
My brain was racing… Wasn’t this what I’d always wanted? I’d be by my dad’s side. I’d have power. Respect. I’d be able to do whatever the hell I wanted in the Fourth Reich, and I’d live forever. So why the shit was I hesitating?
“Lupa… don’t do it,” Shark Horse’s voice came feebly from the table he was still strapped to, “Even you… couldn’t allow this…”
Faggo was weak… weak from the Force Field of Necrotosis being pulled out of him. It was almost all the way out of his body now, a black cloud being pulled out of his body through his clamped-open eyes, like something out of A Clockwork Orange. Or more like A Sharkwork Orange.
“Lupa, I know there’s good in you, I know- AAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!” electricity coursed through Shark Horse’s body, silencing him. I looked over and saw that it was Hitler/Lawrence, who was using his bottlenose to push buttons on a little control panel, all the while laughing gleefully. There was a crazed look in his eyes.
“Sea Wolf, PLEASE! AAAAGGHHHHHH!”
Mengele laughed. Then he walked over to the panel and patted the Führer.
“That’s enough, Mein Führer. You did a GOOD JOB,” Mengele said in a babyish voice, like he was talking to a dog, “But now it is my turn.”
Scampering up onto the panel, rat-Mengele began to turn a crank. The ray, sucking the black cloud that was the Force Field of Necrotosis out of Shark Horse, then turned to Mengele. He stood and spread his nasty little arms and allowed the black beam to fill his body. As it did so, his size increased, and his shape changed, until he stood, once again in his original form. Josef Mengele had returned, in his human form once again, and the Force Field of Necrotosis was now his.
He walked back over to me and again stroked my wet nose.
“You tortured Shark Horse,” I said, not sure what I was trying to imply.
“Yes,” said Mengele, “He was our enemy. And now we are through with him. Are you ready to invade?”
“I… I… Well,” I was stammering. Like a damn pussy. I wasn’t used to this shit, you know?
Here Mengele leaned in close and whispered to me, “I need strong leaders. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Der Führer is a little… slow. I mean, he always was, but it’s only gotten worse since he… well, since he shot his own brain out. Now, he hardly functions. We had to combine his mind with one of our more loyal supporters just so he could do everyday tasks. So I need all my lieutenants to be the greatest warriors I can find. So, Sea Wolf? Are you with us?”
I puffed up, pushing out my furry, black and white fucking chest. I looked over at Faggo, who was lying limply on the table there, still mouthing, “No… no… no…”
“Shit yeah, I’m with you,” I told Father. He grinned and clapped his hands together in excitement. Then he abruptly stood up straight, and thrust his hand up at an angle in a perfect Nazi salute.
All around me, thousands of DolphiNazis tilted their little flippers up in imitation of Mengele’s salute.
The insane mantra of the Waffle-SS filled every nook and cranny of the space-sub until it was a deafening boom. I gotta admit, I was impressed. I was impressed that Father had managed to put together this army; impressed that he’d spent seventy years planning this; impressed that he’d thought of absolutely every eventuality. There was no detail he’d overlooked. I thrust my thick and sinewed paw up in the air like a dog trying to give someone a high five.
“Sieg whale,” I said, to much hollering and hooting and chanting. Yup, Father had thought of absolutely every detail.
“Sieg Whale,” I repeated, “bitch,” And then I dashed forward with all of my speed and strength, knocking Mengele so hard into the steel hull of the submarine that he dented it, stunning him.
“FUCK NAZIS!” I shouted. Then I dashed towards the metal table that Shark Horse was strapped to. With all my Orca might, I wrenched him free of his restraints and flung him off the table. In an instant, I had done the same for McAlister. Then I freed that guy astronaut… fuck, what was his name? Ah, well. He was just some redshirt anyway. I left his woman strapped to the table, ‘cuz she seemed pretty dead.
Mengele was recovering now, and barking orders to the DolphiNazis that surrounded us. As they swooped towards me, I killed one with a mighty bite. Then another. Then a third.
“You’ve made a big mistake, Lupa!” Mengele was saying, obviously flustered. I’d done gone and embarrassed him in front of Der Führer again (although ol’ Adolf didn’t seem to care too much, as he was busy giggling at the bright lights of the DolphiNazis’ frickin’ laser beams.) Soon enough, Shark Horse and McAlister were back on their feet and dashing about, slaughtering DolphiNazis to and fro. Still, the Waffle-SS had huge numbers on us, and their deadly laser beams were threatening to slice our bodies to ribbons. We were all tough dudes, but we doubted if we could survive an entire Reich’s worth of frickin’ laser beams being shot into our bodies at once. Sure enough, that’s what the DolphiNazis were trying to do: concentrate their firepower to destroy us. Mengele, however, had other plans.
“Initiate invasion protocol!” the cruel Nazi doctor was shrieking, “Attack Santa Ana! NOW!”
Within an instant, the DolphiNazis began to follow his orders, disappearing down the labyrinthine halls of the mighty Lost ShArc. Hitler/Lawrence had vanished in the chaos; he must have gone with them. Shark Horse, McAlister and myself used our great speed and strength to kill as many DolphiNazis as we could, but a lot of them had disappeared by now. Just the same, there were plenty left to give us a fuckin’ problem. I’d bitten the tail off of one and was using it to smack a couple of others when I saw Mengele lumbering towards me. From his evil Nazi eyes, there emanated a black glow.
“Neither Lucy Aberzeen nor Shark Horse had the intellect to fully comprehend the power of the Force Field of Necrotosis,” said Mengele, “What one could truly do with it. And it is MINE now!”
With that, he held up his hands and began firing black blasts of energy from his hands; I barely dodged one and it struck the hapless DolphiNazi behind me. The fascist cetacean shrieked in agony as his flesh, organs, and finally bones slowly dissolved into oblivion. Cool. Mengele threw another blast, which struck the hull of the submarine and burned halfway through it.
“I could simply turn you human, but no,” said Mengele, “I believe I’ll just kill you! I shall- GAAAGGGGHHHH!”
Mengele had been, in an instant, flung backwards by a great glowing blue ball of energy. I looked around for the source of the blast; then I saw it:
I decomposing, tattered, but still charming rogue in full astronaut regalia, holding a gigantic, futuristic Rambo gun.
“Cap’n Clooney!” I cheered.
“We can’t win this here,” Clooney said as he blasted a DolphiNazi that was zooming towards his head, “Follow me!”
Shark Horse, McAlister, and that redshirt guy all began to follow Clooney as he lead us down one of the winding halls of the gigantic space-submarine.
“Sea Wolf, come on!” Shark Horse yelled like the bitch he was, “We have to regroup!”
“Fuck off, Faggo,” I said, “You go! I’ve got business.”
“You can’t beat him without a plan!” Shark Horse yelled, “Let’s get out of here!”
“I got this,” I told my pansy ass commanding officer. Then I turned to face Mengele, who was preparing to blast the group with his newfound Necrotosis powers.
“Hey, Dad,” I said, “Die.”
I rushed him again, knocking him on his ass. I turned to make sure that Clooney, Shark Horse, McAlister, and redshirt were getting away. Those first three guys were, on account of their immortality and speed; redshirt looked like his face was being eaten by a couple of ravenous DolphiNazis. Oh, well. C’est la vie. I turned back towards Mengele, who was getting back to his feet. Shit, that blow I gave would have turned a human into goo. The Force Field had granted Mengele/Disney all sorts of crazy powers none of us could have imagined.
“You have betrayed me,” Mengele said, “You could have been a great leader, Lupa. Now, you must simply die.”
The black cloud of Necrotosis began to swirl about the body of Josef Mengele; he was building it up for a gigantic, super, Hadouken kind of thing. He was going to finish me off. Well, fuck him. I might die, but so would he. Spying a control panel at the far end of the room, I dashed towards it and began to smash it and rip it to bits.
“Fool!” shouted Mengele, “You’ve destroyed the navigation system! Without it, we’re on a direct collision course for the Sun! You idiot, you’ve doomed us all!”
“Maybe,” I said, “But ain’t gonna be no fucking Nazis bothering the good folks of Santa Ana!”
Ech! I felt so cheesy saying stupid shit like that.
“You haven’t stopped the invasion!” Mengele shouted, pointing to a porthole above both of our heads. Through the porthole, I could see the Earth, twinkling a beautiful blue off in the distance. Headed straight for it was a swarm of millions of DolphiNazis, flying free of the submarine in little rocket-powered spacesuits. At their head was the Hitler/Lawrence dolphin.
“You’ve done nothing to harm our plans,” said Mengele, “You’ve merely delayed the inevitable! Now, you will die!”
Mengele resumed charging up his Super Kamehameha blast. This one was gonna be way too fucking big to dodge. Fuck it. No one lives forever, right?
Then, just before Mengele was able to annihilate your favorite murderous Sea Wolf, another motion blur smacked into him, whirling his body around. The giant blast of black energy was rerouted, blasting a gigantic hole in the hull of the submarine and exposing us to the vacuum of space.
“Lupa, run!” shouted Dr. McAlister, “Get to the escape pod! I’ll hold him off!”
The ancient vampire had seized Mengele and was holding the Nazi as he struggled. Shit! I grew up with this asshole.
“Doc, the Force Field of Necrotosis will fucking kill you,” I shouted, “It’s, like, one of the only things that can kill a vampire! I’m tellin’ you, I got this!”
McAlister smiled, “Sea Wolf, I was Josef Mengele’s mentor. I taught him everything he needed to know to come up with his plan. That means he’s my responsibility. And it means everything that has happened to you because of him is my fault. I realized after years with him that he was irredeemably evil, but not you… I’ve always known you had good in you. Now, you must return to Santa Ana to stop the Nazis; perhaps you can find some redemption for the evil you’ve done.”
“Redemption is for pus-” I started to say, but it was too late. Mengele had figured out what was happening and was attempting to break free; then the black energy of Necrotosis began to surge through his body. As it did, Dr. McAlister burst into a brilliant blue flame. With his last action, he leapt upwards toward the gaping hole in the submarine’s hull, pulling Mengele with him. Dr. Herman McAlister disintegrated into ashes as Mengele was forcibly torn out of the submarine by the force of the vacuum.
Before he disappeared into the emptiness of the universe, he yelled to me, “Lupa! I’ll come back! I always come back!”
At that moment, the gravity of the Sun caught him, and its field of Necrotosis combined with his own, overloading him.
“But dying… is such a bitch.”
With that, Mengele was sucked into the corona of the sun, where he disappeared. It was then that I realized that I was also being pulled into the gravity of the sun, along with the entire submarine. The air was sucking out of the submarine, as well, and while I knew I was strong enough to resist that, I also knew that it wouldn’t be long before the Sun’s intrinsic Necrotosis turned me back into a wussy little human. I needed to find protection, and so I ran.
Now, Orcas have this badass power of echolocation, which is basically fuckin’ sonar. So I began to send out a series of loud fuckin’ clicks, hoping to find Clooney and Shark Horse. Soon enough, I was able to use the echo to visualize the shape of a pointed fin off in the distance. I ran towards it.
Clooney was sitting at the controls of an escape pod, and Shark Horse was buckled in behind him. “Get in!” Shark Horse yelled, and I did. Just in time, because the blast doors shut behind me, and, with a great rumbling, the little escape craft took off.
I struggled to strap myself in with my Orca mouth, feeling the G-forces pull me into my seat as we pulled free of the Sun’s gravity. I looked through the little window on the escape pod, back at the submarine, which was being crushed by the extreme gravity and pulled into the corona, where it would die along with Father.
A little drop of water fell out of my eye. To this day, I don’t know why the shit that happened.
“That took guts. What you did back there,” said Cap’n Clooney.
“Thanks,” I said.
“How’re you holding up, Sea Wolf?” Shark Horse asked me.
“I’m ready to eat some fuckin’ Nazi dolphins,” I told him.
“Remember,” said Shark Horse, “Inside their leader is the mind of my father. It’s not as simple as just killing him.”
“Dammit Shark Horse!” I shouted, “This is no time for your pansy-ass daddy issues!”
Shark Horse looked miffed, “You dick! Literally the only reason you wanted to come here is because of your daddy-”
“Fuck off, Faggo!” I said, “I’ve had a rough day, okay? My friend sacrificed himself for me! Do you have any idea what that’s like?”
“YES!” Shark Horse squawked like a petulant bitch, “My friend Gallardo sacrificed himself for me… To save me from you, as I recall…”
“BOYS!” George Clooney yelled back at us, “This is not the time to fight! As we speak, the Earth is being invaded by a gigantic army of space-faring Nazi dolphins! And we’re only three people. We need to figure out what the hell we’re going to do!”
I looked through the window; and there I saw the pale blue dot we call the Earth. Fuck, space is big and we’re small. But no time for that now; because heading towards the earth was a veritable fuckin’ swarm of millions of flying dolphins, each in a little space suit. Emblazoned on each little space suit was a huge swastika. Their mission: exterminate.
What the hell were we gonna do now?
NEXT TIME: THE SHARK KNIGHT RISES!