Sad Puppies Bite Back: A Parody
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Sad Puppies Bite Back
Based on a true story, and then completely twisted.
By
Declan Finn
Also by Declan Finn (In Order):
NONFICTION
For All Their Wars are Merry: An Examination of IRA Songs
Pius History: The Facts Behind the Pius Trilogy
FICTION
Codename: Winterborn (with Allan Yoskowitz)
It Was Only On Stun
A Pius Man: A Holy Thriller
A Pius Legacy: A Political Thriller
A Pius Stand: A Global Thriller
Pius Holidays (Kindle Only)
Pius Origins (Kindle Only)
Pius Tales (Collects Pius Holidays, and Pius Origins)
Honor at Stake (Love At First Bite – Book 1)
Sad Puppies Bite Back: A Parody
Coming Soon:
Set to Kill
Murphy's Law of Vampires (Love At First Bite – Book 2)
Live and Let Bite (Love At First Bite – Book 3)
Introduction
This is one of those fever dream moments. You know, that bit where you don't know where the ideas came from, or what you were thinking, or even why it happened in your head at all? It's sort of like how I wrote some of my other novels (for those of you who've read my others works, I'm thinking of It Was Only on Stun!).
In his books, Love in the Ruins, Walker Percy wrote that anyone not on the left tended to adopt insults as a battle cry. I think he was referring to something Barry Goldwater did. Anyway, that tradition really has continued, with politicians adopting nicknames that are basically a reductio ad absurdum of every insult ever thrown at them.
That's why, if you look down the list of Sad Puppy backers, you have "Sarah Hoyt, Evil Yet Beautiful Space Princess" (Yes, as a proper name). Author Larry Correia adopted the moniker of the International Lord of Hate. Brad Torgersen has a few, including the Cuddly Care Bear of Doom … or something like that.
To be honest, I have no idea how many were self-named, and how many just sort of ... happened (and how many originated with John C. Wright having fun). I'm not that close with them. I'm "friends" with Brad and Larry on Facebook, and we all know what that's worth. Sarah Hoyt's nickname is especially hilarious since she's about as Evil as, well, a puppy. A real puppy, not a sad puppy... oh, you know what I mean. Sarah's downright pleasant and nice, and will even talk to losers like me. And Cedar Sanderson ... Sarah and Cedar talk to me. So you now know the extent of our relationship.
Anyway, at the start of 2015, I tripped over a funny piece by Vox Day, which basically boiled down to "The monthly staff meeting of the Evil League of Evil" (in the Lair of the Puppies).
For some reason, ever since I heard about death threats on the Puppies, (seriously, death threats) I wondered when Larry Correia or Brad would be SWATted,
Then, all I could think was, well, what would happen?
For those people who are not familiar with the concept of SWATting, it's the practice where someone calls 911, insisting that the target has a gun, is violent and actively threatening to shoot people, in the hopes that the SWAT team knocks down someone's door and possibly gets them killed. Fun, huh? It's attempted murder by phone. Reach out and kill someone. This has been a tactic that's come up over the course of the past few years, probably around 2014. I was originally going to call this SWATing Sad Puppies, but I couldn't see that title going over well. It might have given people ideas.
Within 36 hours, part one was one of the best received blog posts I've ever made. Dozens of people asked for more. Huh. Well then...
From there, like every other writing project, it spiraled. Then it fractaled, then there was talk of a Hugo nomination. Then there was a Sad Puppies 4 nomination / suggestion. Then I thought, Hmm, I may have something here.
The result is what you're reading.
Along the way, there was a lot of input from a lot of people. None of the Puppies themselves had any input in this, until they chimed in with corrections: such as who was stone cold sober, who was purely insubordinate, that sort of thing. The Conservative Libertarian Fiction Alliance had a hand, including Marina Fontaine, and Matthew Bowman, the novel ninja himself. Jason Clark, fan of Kratman, made suggestions and started that section. David Cleric gave some thoughts for Ringo (who isn't even a Sad Puppy, but is friends with some of the Big Dogs, which should make him a target), and David Weber (who may not even be a part of the Evil League of Evil, but he works with one of the publishers behind most of them).
...Okay, His Tankness, Tom Knighton, might have made a suggestion or two.
There is also a bit with Vox Day in there. Because when his Twitter name is “Supreme Dark Lord,” you use that.
Some of these have been modified from the original, mostly because I was assured that a lot of people would get jokes that I thought would be too obscure. Some of these have had their order changed – mostly because I declared the series over at least twice before I just gave in to the madness. Bwahahaha.
For the record, a bit of legal CYA. For those of you who are named in these pages: THIS IS A PARODY. If you are personally offended, guess what, I'm not reporting the news, I'M MAKING FUN OF YOU. If your first thought is that you're offended, I'll look into creating a sequel that will merely make fun of you even MORE, because you not only lack a sense of humor, you can't even tell when something's supposed to be a joke.
Again, the following is satire and parody. No, I'm not threatening anyone, or declaring facts. If you are personally offended, I'm making a joke. If you think I'm slandering you, no, I'm laughing at of you. Lighten up. Have a drink. Or ice cream, if you're sober.
And now? At long last, I can say for the final time: Cry havoc! And let's slip the puppies of war!
SWATting the Puppies
Larry Correia, International Lord of Hate
[Larry Correia, International Lord of Hate, lies asleep on his bed made of skulls and stuffed with the hair of virgins, blanketed with tanned unicorn hide, and is awakened by the phone ringing] WHO DARES AWAKEN THE GREAT INTERNATIONAL LORD OF HATE!!!!
[Phone] Hey, Larry, it's Sgt. Murphy, down at the station?
[LC rises from the mattress. Grabs the water pitcher filled with the tears of puppies, and pours himself a drink] Hey, Murph. What's up?
[Murphy] Well, you see, we had this call come into 911. Caller said you were going to shoot somebody. Do you have John Scalzi over?
[LC] Nah. I was asleep. Haven't threatened anybody in ... hours, really. And that was with my death stare.
[Murphy] The SWAT team was told, and everybody knew your address, so we figured I should just call. Can I come in? I'm outside.
[LC sighs] Sure, why not?
[LC arises, steps on his carpet of skinned puppies, kicks the bazooka back under the bed, and strides down the hall, the house shaking with every step. He passes the wall of machine guns, hangs a right down the stairs, where the hunting rifles line the walls. He touches the handguns by the door like a mezuzah, then opens the door.]
[Murphy] I really appreciate it, Larry.
[LC] Not a problem. I understand. Coming down to the range next weekend to improve your shooting?
[Murphy takes a few steps in, looks around, heads out] Yup. Thanks again, Larry. See you Friday at the BBQ
[LC] Deal.
[LC closes the door. He walks over to the window seat. He opens it up. In the window seat is a and barefoot John Scalzi, bound hand and foot] Now John, I told you, be calm and be quiet, or you can swap places with Mr. Spenalzo
[LC closes the lid, and goes back to bed]
Sarah Hoyt, Evil Yet Beautiful Space Princess
[SWAT leader at the door of the secre
t base hidden in hollowed out volcano] Battering ram in 5, 4, 3, 2 -- HIT IT!
[Battering ram takes door. SWAT rushes in. Sarah Hoyt, Evil Yet Beautiful Space Princess, is in the living room, playing with unidentifiable -- yet obviously sinister -- Weapons From Outer Space, using her Schwartz ring. In the background, innocent and cringing minions are flogged with electric whips, and sent screaming to the Agony Vat ]
[SH looks up] HOW DARE YOU ENTER MY DOMAIN!!!!
[SWAT leader] Put down the ring!
[SH turns into CGI Imposing Figure] Do you know who you are messing with? NOT A DARK LORD BUT A QUEEN! NOT DARK BY BEAUTIFUL AND TERRIBLE AS THE MORN! TREACHEROUS AS THE SEAS! STRONGER THAN THE FOUNDATIONS OF THE EARTH! ALL SHALL LOVE ME AND DESPAIR!
[SWAT all stops, open-mouthed. They huddle. After a minute, they turn back to her] Love you and despair. Okay. We're cool with that. You have a deal.
[SH pouts, turns off CGI effects] Oh, darn! I didn't even get to use "She Who Must Be Obeyed." I love that line. Sigh. Okay. Hon! We have more minions! Put them with the others, please!
[Mr. Hoyt, Evil Yet Handsome Space Prince] Yes dear. Okay guys, come with me. We'll train you in the use of the laser guns and get you fit for Stormtrooper armor.
[SH opens up her handbag] I never get to use that line.
[In the purse is John C. Wright, Evil Brain in a Jar] Tell me about it. I haven't once needed to call out the Vatican Ninjas, or evoke my membership in the Vatican chapter of the Illuminati! You know what those dues cost?
BRAD TORGERSEN, SOFT AND CUDDLY SKELETOR
[After fording the moat and beating off the sharks, SWAT takes the door] GO! GO! GO! GO! GO! GO!
[BT is carrying a flamethrower in full flame. There's a label on the side that says "Property of ILoH Correia"] AH HA HA HA HA HA!
[SWAT recoils in terror, firing a few bursts of cover fire as they flee.]
[BT] Finally got a chance to try this out. Cool. Need more fuel.
[BT looks at the breached door] Did we have guests? Darn! I didn't hear them over the flame thrower. Dang it. We never have guests anymore. I wonder why.
[BT continues to fire random bursts from flamethrower, laughing maniacally]
TOM KRATMAN: GRAND STRATEGIKON
Written with prompts / assistance / thanks to (stolen from?) Jason Clark on Facebook.
[SWAT navigates the mine field, crawls under the barbed wire, and slips past the mysteriously bloodstained crosses lining the walkway]
[ SWAT is about to breach the door with enough C4 to blow open a bunker]
[Tom Kratman, the Grand Strategikon himself, dressed like George Patton, using the voice of a drill Sargent meets George C. Scott ]TEN-HUT
[The SWAT members with military training immediately snapped to. The few non-veteran members look confused, until TK gets in their face.] I SAID TEN-HUT.
[The last of SWAT complies. TK drifts up and down the line, inspecting all of them.] I have never seen such an underequipped, slip-shod entry. Where are your wire clippers! Where are your sappers! Where are your sniper teams! My wife could have taken you out a dozen times by now!
[TK stops and turns, and waves off in one direction] Hi honey, I love you!
[TK turns back to the SWAT team] Who trained you people? John Scalzi? Kurds?
[Junior SWAT member stammers] Buu-u-u-ut, aren't the Kurds supposed to be the good fighters--
[TK] SILENCE, FOOL. Drop and give me fifty. You there, drop your equipment on this man so he knows how to do a REAL push up!
[TK continues inspection] As I was saying, I have never seen a more pathetic attempt at entry. How appalled am I, Sergeant Major?"
[A non-com appears at TK's elbow, also in full uniform, but wearing more guns than the entire SWAT team put together.] Ve-ry Sir.
[TK] Alright. It ap-pears that the only way I'm ever going to get a decent SWATting is to train you myself. Every man, fall back to the FOB. We're going to do this again, and again, and a-gain, until we get it right. In this second run through, I'm going to use my defenses. On the third try, I will be using live ammunition. AM I UNDER-STTOOOOOOODDDD?
[SWAT] SIR! YES, SIR!
[TK] MOVE IT, MOVE IT, MOVE IT! AND WATCH FOR THE LANDMINES! THEY'RE STILL ACTIVE!
JOHN “SHIVA” RINGO
[SWAT arrives at the entryway to the bunker, deep in the backwoods of Tennessee. Their entry through the open path is swift and professional. After the first five turns, they realize that they are in a strangely intricate maze created by The Great and Powerful Miriam. When they finally make it to the door, SWAT takes a moment to take a breath and do a headcount to make sure no one gets lost. Again. SWAT turns to the door with the battering ram.]
[Two figures in camo gear come out and smack right into the SWAT team, with cries of] "Tag, you're it!"
[SWAT swivels around, trying to find out what just happened. They try again for the door, only to be hit again, this time, one of the figures is definitely wielding a Halligan tool.]
[SWAT leader] What the hell...?
[Door opens. The Great and Powerful Miriam, Mistress of all things Goth, is standing in the doorway, dressed in solid black, her hair freshly dyed bluish / purple, looking so stunning, Elvira looks pale in comparison ... paler, anyway] Kids! Don't play so rough with the nice SWAT guys! They're not as tough as you are.
[Miriam beams at the SWAT leader] Can I help you nice gentlemen?
[SWAT leader, dazzled, confused] Um, we were told that there was a maniac at this address waving a gun around, making death threats. John Ringo?
[Miriam waves them in] Come on, have a seat. I'll get John. He's napping. He wrote three books last night, and then ran out of caffeine.
[SWAT slowly walked in, wary, guns in hand.]
[Miriam gestured for them to sit] Have a seat on the coffin. JOHN! Some nice SWAT guys to see you!
[John "Shiva" Ringo, Depopulator and Destroyer of Worlds comes down, looking like he's hungover, wearing a kilt] The Daystar! It burns! Buuuuuurrrrrnnnnnssss!
[Miriam hands John a Red Bull. It is consumed in ten seconds.] Oh that's much better! How are you guys doing? Sorry, I finished a book for Larry, a book for Dave, and one for Eric last night, with a few short stories, and I kinda crashed. Did you know --
[SWAT guys all stare, open mouthed, as John Ringo continues to speak for the next hour on the intricacies of zombies, government bureaucracy, and how they tie in with New Orleans politics and Hurricane Katrina] "-- and then they shoot the gnome by accident. And --"
[Miriam wanders in, hands him another Red Bull] "Thank you, dear."
[A very tall, very young teenager tackles SWAT leader, they start wrestling] "Don't roughhouse with the SWAT team, they're fragile, you know."
[Kid looks up] Okay, dad.
[Ringo continues] Anyway, so the thing about the gnome is....
[Ringo continues to talk for another six hours, until the SWAT team falls asleep. Ringo looks at watch] Great! Sun's down. Back to work. I have to pump out another book by morning. Nice talk, everybody.
[Ringo, rejuvenated by the darkness and caffeine, bounds upstairs, and starts pounding away] Darn it! I broke another keyboard!
[Miriam and the kids disarm the SWAT team and throw a bomb-proof blanket over them.]
[The taller, blonde child says] Can we play with their toys?
[Miriam shakes her head] You know your father doesn't want you playing with anything the city would issue to their local cops. He only wants you to work with quality toys.
DAVID WEBER
LORD OF THE MISSILE BARRAGES
[SWAT makes it to the door with no problems, they are about to ram the door when it opens. Mrs. Weber, Queen of Dual Wielding, smiles] Howdy. Can I help you?
[SWAT leader] Where is David Weber?
[Queen of Dual Wielding chuckles] He's at church. He's a minister, you know.
[SWAT leader] Oh, sorry. Can we check the house, we were told there was a madman waving around a gun.
[Queen of Dual Wielding
laughs] Naw. That was me. And there's no one else here.
NEXT DAY
[Lone police officer ambles up to door and knocks. The Queen of Dual Wielding answers] Can I help you?
[Police officer] Yes, ma'am. Another call came in. Is your husband at home?
[QDW shakes her head] He's at a Braves game. Sorry.
DAY AFTER THAT
[Lone police officer is back. This time, carrying coffee, and bored out of his mind. He knocks. QDW answers.] Oh, hey! You're in luck. You finally found him at home! Honey! Guests!