Life is but a Gas

By Shychick

Disclaimer- I wasn't the second gunman on the grassy null, so :p

A/U- Yes, it's been awhile since I've written anything, but don't worry; I'm still in business. I've just been very tired, busy, lazy, and depressed lately. Well, shit happens. XD

It was late in the afternoon, and Snively was on his lunch break. He was in the mood for something nice and spicy, something Mexican. "Hmmm, perhaps a nice chili-dog," he was saying, smacking his lips, as he headed on down to the Dining Lounge... but then, he stopped in his tracks. "What the bloody hell? I believe I've had one too many run-ins with the Hedgehog! Chili-dog, my ass. I'll chili-dog that miserable rodent but good, one of these days..." he muttered. Whatever the hell that was supposed to mean; some kind of dumb-ass threat, maybe. O.o

Anyway, Snively got to the Dining Lounge, and decided on a nice burrito. He walked over to the Food Replicator (yeah, I watch too much Star Trek, XD), and placed his order. "Computer, one Mexican burrito- and make it the spiciest, GRANDEST burrito in all of Roboropolis... no, in all of Mobius... no! THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE!!!" Snively broke out into psychopathic laughter, so great was his hunger. "This Snively the Great commands!"

"Request unrecomended, sir, as such an intake would be highly dangerous for human standards, and may produce certain gaseous side-effects-"

"SHUT UP, YOU INFERIOR PEICE OF JUNK! I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING!!! SNIVELY THE GREAT IS NO COWARD!! I CAN HANDLE SUCH A BURRITO!!" Snively roared, foaming at the mouth.

Seconds later, the biggest motherfucking burrito you could ever imagine appeared- and was equal to a King-sized matress in both size and density, and was hotter than all the fires of hell. The poor computer had used up all its energy shitting out that huge fucker, and so was now a burnt-out, useless, smoking pile of junk.

Snively roared with demented laughter, fork and knife in hand, and was now wearing a giant bib around his neck- like the kind you where when you eat lobster. "AT LAST! LUNCHEON IS SERVED!" he screamed in delight, digging in.

Two hours and forty-five seconds later, Snively had just finished his very last bite. He felt sicker than a dog, but extremely happy. Oh, yeah, and he was now a midget-sized version of the "Big, Round Guy". (Man, hate to be around when he goes to the can, hey?)

He gave the loudest belch in Christiandom, just then, so huge that it rocked the whole fucking planet off its very foundation for a brief moment... accompanied by a waterfall of brownish-orange goop from his stomach/mouth. "Oh, sweet moth-URP of MObius," he happily burped with a sigh, lying on the floor, unable to move. "That was the best meal I've ever had in my entire life. Certainly makes up for all those times I've been starved by both Colin and Julian in all my days." He suddenly screamed to the SWATbots, "WELL, DON'T JUST STAND THERE, FOOLS! HELP ME UP, AT ONCE!" They did so, immediately. "Now, clean this up!" he ordered, pointing to the pile of puke all over the floor. The bots rushed off for a mop and bucket.

All of a sudden, Snively felt a strange, rumbling sound in his gut, accompanied by the most UNBEARABLE pain he had ever felt. "OMG!! Such HORRIBLE cramps! It must be that time of month!" he moaned, like a Valley-girl... then paused. "Wait... no, I'm not a woman." He thought some more. "GADZOOKS! It must be that Creature from Mars, using me as a host by secretly implanting itself inside of me- wait, that was just a horror film. I HAVE IT! The God of Burritos is punishing me for my gluttony!" He sighed. "No, that can't be right."

He gasped, as the pain grew more and more unbearable, bringing him to his knees. "There's only one logical assumption left," he groaned, tearfully. "I must be... DYING! Well, judging by the pain- which seems to be increasing by the minute- I only have a short time to live. Perhaps all those beatings from Robotnik are finally catching up with me." He sniffled. "Well, I suppose we've all got to go sometime... ah well, I've lived a too-long and pointless life. It could be worse. But if I am to die soon, then I must hurry and achieve all the goals I've meant to achieve in my life, starting now. First, I'll write my will."

"To my only and dearest friends, Scratch, Grounder, Coconuts, and Crabmeat- I leave my leftover nail clippings... leftover shaving scum... used bubblegum... and a few sheets of used toliet paper. May these beloved items remind you of me, once I am gone.

- Thine evermore,

Colin "Snively" Kintobar

"Well, that's that!" Snively sealed each individual letter in an envolope, and slipped them under each of their quarters. Then, he crossed that completed goal off his list, and continued. He still had much to do, and so little time.

Later, the dumbots got together to talk about their firend's generosity, and to compare gifts. "What a pal!" they all said, tearfully.

"Packbell... I come bearing both a confession, and a peace-offering," Snively was shamefully admitting to his android colleague. "For the past eight years, I've been swindling money from your private safe." He held up a big-ass sack of money. "Here is every last cent, $1000,000, in exact change. I hope you can forgive me, old friend." He then handed Packbell a large present, covered in wrapping paper. "And as a peace-offering, I humbly give you this..."

Packbell ripped off the wrapping, only to reveal a life-size inflatable Britteny Spears! "SWEET! I get my fantasty bitch and a million bucks, all in one day! Hell, maybe I'll just move into the Playboy Mansion! Screw this place, I'm outta here! Thanks, Needlenose!"

Packbell hopped onto a motorbike, with the money and Bitchney Spears in the backseat. "Hang on, honey, Big Daddy's blowing this pop-stand!" He drove right through the walls of Robotnik's HQs, into the city, and off into the sunset.

"Robots! Go on! You're free! I release you all!" Snively was saying, on the outskirts of the city where he'd led them. "You are no longer slaves! Be free!"

The robots just stared at him, trying to compute their Second Commander's odd instruction.

Snively sighed. "Figure it out." He walked away.

The Jeppordy (sp?) music began playing... until, finally the 'ol lightbulb finally clicked on above their heads, and it sunk in what freedom truly was. "Freedom..." they droned, before taking off for the Playboy Mansion, where they'd heard a kick-ass party was being held by Packbell.

LATER...

So far, Snively had managed to grow his hair back (Chi-Chi-Chi-Chia!), undego major plastic surgery for his nose, marry his #1 fangirl (Shychick), complete his self-published book of personal memiors (I, Snively the Great), capture the Freedom Fighters (how should I know?), and become ruler of all of Mobius (behind his uncle's back?!).

There was only one thing left to do...

Robotnik was sitting on his fat ass in the War Room, doing nothing but think about how he loathed Sonic (he didn't know he was already captured and roboticized?! WTF?), when there was a loud fanfare of trumpets from out of nowhere. And the doors opened wide, and the Great One's faithful herald, Lt. Cmdr. Data (the sexy android from ST: TNG) entered, carrying a scroll. "Here ye, here ye. All rise for his esteemed, beloved, and sexy Lordship, Snively the Great, ruler of all of Mobius." He muttered under his breath, his emotion chip activated, "God, I hate my life. I thought I died at the end of Nemisis, but noooo; Q had to quickly beam me to this stupid planet as a joke, where I am slave to that shrimpy Shinzon look-alike." He then walked out of the room, making a mental note to devactivate himself later.

A long red carpet suddenly rolled out into the room, and Snively the Great made his grand entrance. He was covered in priceless, sparkling jewels, he wore a huge crown on his head, and he was wearing a long royal robe, of which was carried behind him by his queen, Shychick. Other loyal fangirls, Alison Fluery, the Nique, and AmberPalatte, were dancing behind him, throwing flower petals into the air.

"SNIVELY!! WHAT ON MOBUIS IS THIS?!" Robotnik roared.

"Hahahahaha!! This is no joke, Julian!" Snively smirked. "And that's Lord Snively to you, cretin! Show some respect!"

He glared at him. "For years, I have done your bidding, while you've treated me like the toxic waste on your toothbrush! Well, now it's MY turn... and I have something to say, so LISTEN WELL! YOU MAY LEARN SOMETHING FROM THIS!" He chuckled. "Something I've been longing to tell you to your fat, ugly face for the past decade..."

At that moment, the rumbling in his gut increased by a thousandfold, just as he opened his mouth to speak:

FAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!

The entire Death Egg lay in ruins all around them (as did poor Datakins), the girls had all fainted, and the toxic polution in the city was now worse than it had ever been.

Robotnik (who was all but naked now, save a fig leaf, no thanks to the mammoth blast) stood glaring at his little lackey, who stood blushing a deep red before his master. "Snively... you will pay for this." He roughly grabbed him up...

It did not matter that his former Greatness now realized his error all along. He really was going to die now, anyway. Me and my stinkin' sewer-mouth... this will teach me to ever pop off again!

THE STINKIN' END!

Gasps Oh, man! I can't breath... for more reasons than one! Wasn't that a gas, laddies and germs? ;)

BTW, stay turned for the forth and final chapter of "This I Vow", coming whenever the hell I ever get it gone.

Data: This has been a Shychick the Great Production.