Originally posted 3 April-9 May, 1996. Joint Collaboration with John Hollingsworth and Scott "The AWF" Mayo. Alas, AWF's post never made it to the archives and I don't have the original title. This story is a pre-quel to The Battle of Lubbock.
&Copy; 1997 by Scott Bernier, John Hollingsworth, and Scott Mayo.
First HTML-ized by Scott Bernier on 24 June 1997. Updated 30 July 1997.
Return to Scott's Stories page.
*****BUNNYSTUMPER DELUXE™ ACTIVATED*****
*****TIGHTBEAM TO SGT McGREGOR*****
TO: SGT John McGregor
FROM: Col. Jean-Paul Oullette
SUBJECT: Recent events in Dunwich
Sergeant,
I know it's late and you have heard more than enough about this, but on behalf of Lubbock Fudd Intelligence, I am expressing our condolences to you. And I have a proposal for your review. It's a way to strike back at the devilbunnies for doing this to you.
The Evil that Fluffs™ cares little for life. They'll hardly notice all the buns you slaughter in retaliation...they'll just reproduce more. So let's strike back where they'll feel it....in their financial accounts.
Back during the Lubbock Battle of '94 my forces captured a working Spam-O-Matic™, a hideous contraption used to grind and can humans into Spam. IF I recall correctly, you have seen the video we had captured with this contraption (shudder). With the current Mad Cow Disease scare, we have a way to turn the tables on the buns.
At the Western Union Office at the Dunwich General Store there is a check waiting for you, SGT. It should cover the cost of shipping one refrigerated tractor trailer load of devilbunny carcasses to us down here in Lubbock, Texas. We'll take care of the rest. You can use the left over "change" for base improvements. I'll give you more details if you like, but the less you know, the better off you would be.
Col. Jean-Paul Oullette, Commander, Lubbock Fudd Intelligence
*****END TIGHTBEAM AND ENCRYPTION*****
Posted by The AWF
"Amazing smelly mess, isn't it?"
"Never knew meat could be so *&$&% foul. Even Stacey wouldn't bite this."
"Cute on th' outside, pure vile greasy slime on the inside."
"Astonishing. Are they protein based at all?"
The other four turned to stare at Andre, the newest recruit to the Fuddites. Andre was a microbiologist by schooling, a Fudd by recent career change. His academic training had a way of shining through at some oddish moments.
John answered, while still plying the pitchfork. "Yes, they are. And if you're planning to get a sample under an automatic analyzer, feel free - later. We've got about four hundred more over the next hill to shovel into the truck. And that's it for today. Colonel Oullette wants a meat truck full, more if we can do it, and soon, for his little SPAM experiment."
Andre, he noted, stopped to slice a few strips from a devilbunny hindpaw and drop the strips into his canteen. John nearly gagged.
"Going to make a bit of a mess of your after-work martini, isn't that?"
"My martini is already what you would call a mess," Andre grinned, screwing the cap back down hard. "I don't drink. This is formaldehyde."
"Pity, that," Elwin commented from the back of the truck. "An' here I thought you were the only one with any sense an foresight, to ha' a canteen full of refreshment on ye person on a day like this."
Hank finished his pile and stared at Andre as if he was from somewhere very, very strange. "Bug pickling juice? A canteen full?" he said slowly.
"It's more durable than a glass jar, and makes a lot more sense in the field. You think scientists get budgets for cadaver freezers in the wilds? We're lucky to have our old metal Boy Scout canteens."
"Whatever your budget was, Andre, it just shrank again," John commented sourly. "There's no money in being a Fudd."
"Yes, and no safety either. But I'd be embarrassed not to help, after-" Andre finished with a shrug and got back to work with his pitchfork.
They worked in silence for a few minutes. Hank, the only one who had finished his pile and seemed neither tired nor hot, helped John with his - John had a habit of stopping and scanning the horizon every few moments that did not speed his work.
Andre had taken Elwin aside early in the work detail and asked about John's unnerving habit. "What's he looking for? Devilbunnies?" But Elwin had just looked levelly back at him and said "Peter, most likely. He'll never let go, not really. Dinna pay it any mind, and dinna mention it if you want a happy day."
They finished the piles and climbed back into the truck, Hank at the wheel - no one drove a pickup the way Hank could. Elwin, probably to take his mind off the ride, turned to Andre.
"So, what are the (oof) samples to be used for?"
Andre looked questioningly at John, who just shrugged and looked out the window. Andre said, slowly, "John had the idea that, since devilbunnies are so unlike most animals, it might be possible to come up with a specific toxin that (oof!) kills them without doing much damage to other creatures."
The announcement didn't exactly have the same effect on them all. Hank didn't react, probably because he didn't dare take his mind off the track. Elwin gasped; Franz grinned. John nodded.
"NoCo will have your head when they hear of it, John."
"Why? For thinking of the obvious?"
"For thinking of an Omega weapon."
"It's been thought of before, Elwin. When I was out at NoCo I got a look at the medical labs. I'm no scientist but I'll bet they've already researched such a thing. They've had the minds and the opportunity to do it."
"And maybe the morality not to. John, even if they have, it won't be stood for, if you find one and use it to kill fluffers indiscriminately."
"Indiscriminately? You mean the way Peter died?" John's face glowed with an expression that frightened Elwin, just for a moment. "Aye. I won't sink to their level. But remember this is supposed to be a fluffer free zone. Why not enforce it?"
"You live for a troubled life, John." Elwin muttered.
The rig pulled-up to the gate. The guard on duty double checked the order manifest and waved the truck through. The driver took it slow and easy for the 35 mph cross winds were really picking-up the dust and the visibility had dropped to under a half mile (less than one km). He made a right turn and then a left before he backed the truck against a warehouse.
A soldier came up to the driver as he got out of the cab. "Follow me!" He yelled to be heard over the wind. The two entered the warehouse office. Some papers were filled-out and the driver left, taking his rig minus the trailer. The soldier depressed his intercom. "Sir, the shipment has arrived.
"Excellent, I'll be right over," was the reply.
Fifteen minutes later, a veteran Fudd entered the warehouse. There were only 6 other Fudds in the room. All were dressed in white garments and had gas masks dangling from their necks. They saluted the Colonel as he entered.
"All right, men, open her up," Colonel Oullette commented as he put his gas mask on.
They did as they were told. The trailer was loaded with bunny carcasses. Despite the refrigeration, some of them were a bit ripe. The 6 Fudds in white grabbed shovels and began to shovel the former buns into what looked like a giant meat grinder hopper. The side of the contraption was labelled: Acme Spam-O-Matic™. It didn't take long to fill the hopper.
"Good," Oullette barked as he flipped a switch. The Spam-O-Matic™ came to life. As soon as three or four cans of Spam™ appeared at the other end of the contraption, he shut the system off. He reached over and pulled a can off the conveyor belt, walked a distance from the machinery, and opened it.
The contents weren't quite pink and it reeked of something that had been dead too long before it had been cooked.
"We'll need a little more food coloring, but this will work." There was a smile on his face.
"Sir?" one of the Fudds piped-up. Oullette looked to him and the soldier continued. "May I ask what we are doing?"
Oullette thought a moment. "You are all sworn to secrecy. Only a few Fudds outside of this room know what we are doing. We're striking back at the devilbunnies where it counts! We're hitting their financial accounts. As you know, the buns control Hormel and the process of making Spam™. Who knows how many humans have been Spammed with this very Spam-O-Matic™ before it had been captured during the Columbus Day Battle of '94. You have all seen the film." The Fudds nodded and a few shivered at recalling that film of a symp being Spammed.
"It's time we turn the tables," Oullette continued. "And now we have a way to slip our bunny-laced Spam™ on the market. The Mad Cow scare. We'll get this stuff into distribution then get our operatives in the field to make a few random anonymous phone calls to the press and the rest will take care of itself."
Oullette paused again.
"Gentlemen, welcome to Operation Spam-o-tage."
TBCCol. Jean Paul Oullette, Commander, Lubbock Fudd Intelligence
"A guy once said that if he owned Texas and Hell, he'd live in Hell and rent-out Texas!"--Bella English
of the Boston Globe
Jean-Paul hated to admit it, but that bunny Spam-O-Matic™ was very efficient. They had spammed the whole truck-load of dead bunnies in about 6 hours and now had half a trailer of bunny-laced Spam ready for shipment. All the contacts had been made. A few cases would be shipped here, a few there, and a few over seas. Just enough to cause a world-wide recall once the callers got the news media pulled into the plan.
[about 4 days later on CNN]
"And this just in...several anonymous callers, some claiming to work for Hormel, are claiming that Hormel has used cows infected with Mad Cow disease in their Spam™ products. Hormel denies the accusations. However, three people in the DC area and two in England have come-down sick after eating Spam™. Hormel stock has already dropped 3 points in the aftermath of these allegations...."
[10 days later on CNN:]
CNN Business news. Hormel stock bottomed-out and began to rebound today following Hormel's voluntary recall of most Spam™ products from the markets world-wide. Suspected tainted Spam™ will be tested independantly by Oklahoma State University to determain what went wrong. In the past two weeks, Hormel stock fell 32 points....
*****BUNIX™ WIDEBEAM TRANSMISSION*****
This is BNN (Bunny News Network). A spokesbun from Hormel urges all bunnies to turn in cans of Spam (tm) with the following factory numbers: K175 0934 26PINK, K175 0934 27PINK, and K175 0934 29PINK. Hormel suspects Fudd tampering (STOMP!) may be involved. Some rumors suggest that devilbunnies (shiverfluff) may have been ground into the Spam™. Mentat Bovet of Stillwarren has volunteered his services to test the tainted Spam™.
Again, if you suspect you have tainted Spam™, turn it in immediately for testing... This message shall be repeated throughout the day.
*****END BUNIX™ WIDEBEAM*****
Posted by John Hollingsworth
The gate to the apparently sparsely-used storage building on the western edge of the Oklahoma State campus was the perfect place for a university-based warren to have a hidden transport dock. That's what made the subversion of Oklahoma State so easy for Iago in the early days of his command.
Mentat Bovet was in that very docking area when the 15th shipment of tampered Spam™ came rolling in, this one from Utah.
"Where do you want this mess, Mentat?" the driver symp asked cheerily.
"Over there," Bovet said dully, hoping the annoying driver would go away soon.
"As you wish, Mister Mentat
Bovet stopped what he was doing in fury. "You will not address me as 'Mister Mentat,' monkey
boy. 'Mentat' is my title, and it is 'Mentat' alone.
"
"Good. And don't call me 'Sir.' I'm not a military bun."
"Yess...Yes, Mentat."
Bovet lopped to the refrigerator door where the pink, smelly residue of rotting Spam was being kept as the driver back the transport up to the door. Other symps and soldier buns dressed in protective Type A suits met the truck and began to empty the noxious contents into the cell very quickly, careful not to get any more of the mess on them as possible (a tricky task with something that has the consistancy of greasy oatmeal).
"I want the cans and the product separated. We need to send the cans back to Hormel for their investigators to research. I am only interested in the contents," the head scientist said matter-of-factly, apparently unaffected by the stench.
"But s-s-sir," a young doe replied through her suit's headset, "that could take, like, forever."
Bovet was not impressed with this doe's mental capacity. "Child, you will do as I say," the bun hissed as he slowly trudged toward the now-frightened doe, "or you will be turned into the same stuff that you are about to help me test.
"I do not have time for your lip.
With that, Mentat Bovet wheeled to the waiting tram that would take him back to the warren proper and his lab so that he could begin spectrographic and thermographic analysis of the samples waiting for him there.
Posted by John Hollingsworth
Perkins had been at it for over 36 hours with only one hour of sleep, and they were no closer to a solution than they were 36 hours ago.
The thermographic scans were indeterminate. The spectroscopy was little help: the excess of fatty substance in the product made the spectrometer's readings come out strangely. Even the electron microscope pictures were too similar to each other to declare a difference that would lead to anything conclusive.
Finally, the CPU of the Pentium system finished its work on the DNA samples that Perkins had started three hours before. "This better work," the bun said as the computer began to print out the results.
First came the control's results. The DNA looked mostly human, with other species intermingled.
Then the second printing came through. Perkins nearly lost her lunch.
"Mentat. You might want to look at this," she said into the intercom with all of her effort to keep from spewing chunks on the control panel.
"I'll be there right away," Bovet said over the intercom.
******TWO MINUTES LATER******
Bovet moved over to the lab assistant that was perched in front of the monitor of one of the
electron microscopes. "Yes.
"There is most definately something wrong with this sample," Perkins stated.
"Thank you, BunnyMentat. Now tell me something I don't know."
"
"This on the right is our sample from the field.
"Both samples contain what is looking like the presence of DNA. Both look identical under normal scans, so I ran a complete DNA test on the Pentium.
"After three hours, it printed out these results."
Perkins spread out the two printouts in front of Bovet and let him read the results for himself. The buns fur visibly became a shade more brindle, and his expression was unmistakably one of nausea.
"Wire the Lt. Colonel. Inform him that we have identified devilbunny DNA in the suspected Spam™. Also wire P.A.W. Let them know what we have found out.
"Now it's up to the military to find out where these buns came from and why they are in the
Spam™
Bovet wobbled to the nearest trash can and let what remained of his last meal excape his body, then hobbled to his office for some Pepto-Bismal™.
Posted By John Hollingsworth
*********Tightbeam Engaged*********
****BUNIX ENCRYPTION ACTIVATED*****
*********Priority: URGENT**********
To: Lt.Col Iago; Pampa Outpost Warren
cc: General LonGears, Admiral Marlin, et al; P.A.W.
BunnyMentat, Daphnie Mentat; SFU
Snug; the DRG
Sorry to disturb you, commander. Mentat Bovet wanted me to inform you of our lab results.
After running a DNA scan, we can say without a reasonable doubt that the Spam™ In
Question most definately contains devilbunny remains
We are continuing our test to determine the origin of the contamination. You will be advised when the results are confirmed.
This tightbeam is being sent to P.A.W., SFU, and the DRG for informational coding and cross-referencing. Test results, as well as appropriate samples are being shipped by BPS tonight to each respective location as well.
Lab Tech Perkins
StillWarren Laboratories
****BUNIX ENCRYPTION DEACTIVATED****
********Tightbeam disengaged********
Posted by John Hollingsworth
******StillWarren Laboratories******
*********Twelve Hours later*********
Bovet was looking at the test result piled on his desk. They were looking for everything and anything that might lead to where the cans of contaminated Spam™ came from.
They were testing the air contained in unopened cans of Spam™ to see if anything was conclusive, but the pressure, mosture, and other environmental factors had to be discounted due to the vacumn-packing process used to make the gooey stuff.
They looked for hair samples, skin flakes, or anything bio-medical that would identify a particular Fudd, but nothing had turned up.
Bovet thought he'd go blind if he looked at another inconclusive report from his lab buns. It was enough to make a bun go mad.
"Whomever did this," the Mentat said warily, "did a high-caliber job. Definately someone we
need to convert or destroy.
"The BHX is smart enough to do this, but wouldn't be that cruel. Besides, his 'wife' would skewer him like a hog on a slab.
"Anderson is head of the AoF, so that discounts him short of informally declaring outright war
on the DB population.
"Oullette might do something like that, but not because he's smart enough... He's just downright sadistic."
Suddenly, Bovet realized what he just said. He hopped to the Main Lab at top gallop to begin some new tests. There might be something to be found.
******six hours later******
************Tightbeam Engaged*************
********BUNIX ENCRYPTION ACTIVATED********
********PRIORITY: Emergency Status********
Lt.Colonel,
I am attaching the results I have found with the report.
Lubbock Fudd Intelligence is suspect in the contamination of the Spam™ In Question. Cross-referencing dust sample contained in the pink product with our dust sample inventory show the texture, mineral structure, and granularity of the dust to be that of the lower Panhandle of Texas.
Sir, if it was not LuFI, then we have a bigger problem to take care of than Oullette, and more to destroy than Reese.
Mentat Bovet
StillWarren Laboratories
******attachment enclosed******
****Barney encoding enabled****
************Tightbeam disengaged************
********BUNIX ENCRYPTION DEACTIVATED********
Bovet's work in StillWarren Labs was done. It was time to assemble a Med Staff for the battle and head to POW* to assist the forces in the invasion of Lubbock.
The mentat paused for some reason that he did not know as we was leaving his office. He was suddenly struck with an unrecognizable feeling of fear. He hopped back into the spartan office, retrieving a locket that his late wife once wore. It was the only keepsake that he had ever and would ever risk his life over.
A private knocked on the door, entered, placed a report on the desk, saluted and left. The Fudd behind the desk picked-up the report and read through it. A huge smile crossed his face and he chuckled sinisterly. He turned to his terminal and started a message.
*****BunnyStumper Deluxe™ Tightbeam Activated*****
Routing: LuFI through Outpost 384 through Maine Fudd Volunteers HQ to Dunwich Fudd Base, MA...
To: Sgt John "AWF" McGregor
From: Col. Jean-Paul Oullette
RE: Our transaction...
Sergeant,
Thanks to that shipment you sent us, Hormel has lost between $20-40 million dollars in the "Mad Cow" laced Spam™ fiasco. This loss is as of a result of the recall of suspected Spam™, a large drop in consumer confidence, and Spam™ testing, among other things. No further shipments are needed from you. My commendations to you and those under your command.
Col. Jean-Paul Oullette, Commanding, Lubbock Fudd Intelligence
Oh, and off the record, if the $50,000 overpayment for the shipping of the goods isn't enough for the base improvements you had in mind, drop me a line, discreetly.
*****End Tightbeam and Encryption*****
Jean-Paul sat back from the terminal. He knew the buns would figure-out what the Spam™ was made of sooner or later. He also expected them to somehow trace where it came from also. They didn't call it Lubbock Fudd Intelligence for nothing. Steve Blake had done a lot of spying for LuFI and they also had other operatives in the field at all times. Jean-Paul simply prayed that any wrath came his way and not towards his db meat suppliers.
Col. Jean Paul Oullette (pronounced like roulette but substitute a 'W' in place of the 'R')
A guy once said that if he owned Hell and Texas, he'd live in Hell and rent-out Texas!--Bella English of
the Boston Globe (and paraphrased from many Texans)
TBC in The Battle of Lubbock [Not yet available on my pages, sorry.]