THE FINALE: At Least it’s not Duke Nukem Forever
Ch.4 THE FINALE: At Least it’s not Duke Nukem Forever. XD
A/N: Sorry for the wait.
When we last left our heroes Duke while controlling Hoity had thrown the destucity fueled Power Lifter through the wall of the fashion guru's office, he got Hoity a date with Foto to which Hoity promptly passed out leaving out testosterone laden hero in charge of finishing Hoity's designs for the big fashion show coming up this weekend.
It was 5am and Hoity Toity was up for his daily exercise routine that Duke had bestowed upon him.
"675...676 *pant*...677.......678 hnnnh...679..." That was has far Hoity got before he collapsed from exhaustion.
"Come on, you only had 21 more three legged pushups to go." Duke berated his tired and beaten host. Hoity only responded with a soft groan and sound of his hooves trying to get off the ground. Hoity made two steps forward and fell down once more on the cold concrete.
"Great, I gotta carry your ass home." Duke sneered as he lifted Hoity and trotted to his penthouse.
Five Hours Later
The King felt a weird sensation over the past two days since the Power Lifter incident. He had only been drinking three six-packs of beer as opposed to his normal eight and had been using less homophobic slurs towards his host. 'What the fuck is wrong with me?'
"I need to take things up a notch to proof I'm still an All-American kicker of ass." Duke said in a firm voice with only slight hesitation.
The king trotted down the street and found what he was looking for: The Celestia Utility Building. The seventy-eight story skyscraper was the tallest built structure in the modern world and it was where a fashion designer that was being possessed by an otherworldly entity would be attempting a stupid stunt in order to hide said entity's insecurities.
Duke lifted one of Hoity's hooves against the base of the building to feel the smooth concrete exterior. "Perfect."
20 Minutes Later
Hoity woke up to the sound of fire-cart sirens and cheers. Hoity looked out his eyes as he was not in control of his body. Duke being the type of guy he is decided to give his host a view of his surrounding to which Hoity was freaking out as he saw fire-carts, news cameras and crowds of cheering ponies.
"HOLY CELESTIA!!! WHY IN THE NAME OF ALL THINGS SANE ARE WE SCALING THE CELESTIA UTILITY BUILDING?!?!"
"It was there and like every woman, every mountain and building needs to be mounted and claimed in the name of the Dukester."
Hoity realized what time it was realized that if they didn't leave now, they'd miss the train to Mareami.
As if sent from the heavens or by a lazy writer Sibsy the fastest taxi driver in the all of Manehattan appeared before Hoity. She notices him and chuckles. "You've got balls of steel to be climbing the tallest building in city as an earth pony no less, ha ha."She calms down."You want a lift?" Hoity nods and gets inside her sky cab.
They were finally on the train to Mareami. Duke was getting impatient and against Hoity's wishes he dragged his host to the bar car to get some fuel. After spending about half an hour there, Duke was completely sober and Hoity was quit the opposite as they were both using the fashion designer's liver. Hoity staggered back into his private car.
Duke thought it was a good time to bring up a certain memory that Hoity was a tad embarrassed over, because he figured he needed to have fun at the prissy pony's expense to meet status quo.
"Psst. Hey, loser."
"Huh? What do you need, I'm trying to get some rest we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow and I need to get some rest before the show."
Duke adjusted his sunglasses. "Moovilla."
Like a Bob Hayger song Hoity's mind was flooded with the memories of trying to solve those awkward teenage blues. "How dare you! That was a private moment." The gray stallion was offended that his mental roommate had found a fresh new way to torment him.
"So, what you lost your virginity to a cow on prom night. You should have seen the first chick I nailed; she was...no scratch that my second grade teacher was great in the sack."
"If you must know it wasn't her it was when her father caught us and she accidentally bucked me out of a second story window." Hoity cringed remembering the sounds of broken glass, the pain on impact and how awkward the rest of high school was for him after that night. Duke on the other hoof could not and would not stop laughing.
Hoity was still angry and decided to take a walk the lounge car of the locomotive, but this attempt to calm his nerves and sooth his anger was all in vain as he was met with a new form of hell as he entered the room. There hitting on a female train attendant were the outdoor fashion designers known the Field and Stream brothers. The brothers designed apparel for fishing, camping, hiking and hunting; they were also well known for their crass behavior, disgusting sense of humor and pension for buggery. In other words they were like Duke only even worse if one were to believe it.
The two continued to harass the mare. "Sirs, I think you should leave the lady alone."
"Yeah, what's it to ya..."Stream recognized the gray earth pony in front of him."...hey, Field it's that darn queerosexual from Manehattin."
Sure enough Field ceased his verbal groping of the mare operating the snack cart as his brother called him. "Yep, brother that's him alright." He then turned to Hoity. "Now, listen to us ya ascot wearin' mo. We is gonna have us a some fun, before we gotta show off our latest in designer camouflage, so kindly get to steppin' before we treat ya'll to some down home cookin' and by cookin' I mean we is gonna beat y'all ass." Stream gave Hoity a shove as he and brother went back to harassing the poor mare.
Duke enjoyed watching the two redneck fashion designers give Hoity a verbal beat down, but he also sensed his surrounding getting darker as if Hoity's mind was reaching its breaking point. 'All shit.' The king shook his head as grasped that something big was coming.
Hoity cleared his throat. "I can’t stand for this kind of behavior, please leave the madam to her work."
"And... we said go get bent ya flaming fagot." Field checked Hoity into the counter of the bar. The grey stallion then rolled on to the floor with a bloody nose, to which the brothers bro-hoofed and laughed about what they had done. The bartender threw a damp wash cloth towards Hoity.
As he lay on the floor something in Hoity snapped as he got back on to his legs. Years of repressed anger flooded his mind; today had been the day where everything finally reached its boiling point. His prep-school lessons on manners were thrown out the window. Even Duke's physical manifestation in Hoity's mind had set up a trench and a thick wall of sand bags.
Field and Stream were too busy laughing because if they had both taken the time to look at their surroundings then they'd notice the room had become eerily quite and had the faint smell of ozone.
Just as the brother had stopped their fit of giggling, Stream was knocked into the far left side of the bar car.
THUD
Field was shocked to say the least but tried to maintain his cool and was about to say something but just as he did Hoity crammed his right forehoof into his mouth. Hoity took off his iconic shades and threw them down at the ground in disgust, he was looking to release years of pent up aggression and hate and didn't need anything obscuring his vision.
Stream was the first to recover and charged at the fashion guru wit what appeared to be some kind of bull shit wrestling move. The grey stallion wasn't having any of it and threw him into a nearby pool table near his beaten older brother.
The two bloody wealthy rednecks acquired a set of pool sticks and gathered up the balls from the table. The both of them formed some kind of strategy that boiled down to two chuck billiard balls at Hoity and use the pool sticks as bo-staffs.
"Hey ya limp hoofed MOTHER FUCKER, try these out for size." The brothers flung the hard resin balls at Hoity causing the train attendant to duck under her cart and the bar tender to hide in the cabinet where he kept the kegs as pool balls whizzed around the car ricocheting off the walls and smashing windows as well as some of the bottles of spirits that lined the back wall behind the bar.
The days of Duke's intense training had finally paid off because Hoity for the first time since junior high was able to hold his own in a fight. Hoity used lounge chairs and the occasional overturned table as cover as he made his way towards his goal. Even though the brothers were slightly unnerved with about sixteen pool balls at their disposal they nailed Hoity with a cue ball in the left shoulder causing him to howl in pain and drop to the ground.
Stream motioned toward his brother to grab a pool stick so they could beat their fellow fashion designer into pulp.
They closed in on Hoity and just as the brothers were about to pommel him to a fine paste the grey stallion rolled out of the way and reared back and knocked the two fashion rednecks onto the pool table.
Once composed fashion designer whom had finally snapped rolled up his sleeves, ripped off his ascot and used it to wipe the sweat from his brow. To Hoity this was not a billiard table it was an operating table and he was the surgeon.
Hoity used every ounce of the twenty-five years of pent up aggression, even Duke whom had once used a corpse as a toilet was impressed at his host's actions.
After about ten minutes Hoity was finished and just stopped shy of actually crippling Field and Stream whom at this point looked like the ground during a buffalo stampede. 'Gutter trash.'
Hoity composed himself and called out the bartender. "Good sir, take this as payment for the damages." Hoity went through the camouflage jacket of Stream and placed two, one hundred bit notes on the counter top.
The train attendant from earlier turned to Hoity whose dress shirt was in tatters and front hooves covered in redneck blood from the fight. "Hey, I just met you and this was crazy, but here's my number, so call me, maybe?" She proceeded scribbled her number on a cocktail napkin and stuffed it in his pocket as she went back to work.
Hoity and Duke went back to his private cabin on the train and got some sleep.
Mareami was the largest city on the southern east coast of Equestria; home to damn near half a million creatures of every sentient species, fantastic bars and restaurants, and miles and miles of sun kissed beaches. It here in this city that the Mareston Fashion Expo was chosen to take place.
The train pulled into the station of the design district just a little before noon. The show was at four or so Hoity thought, turns out when Duke was using Hoity's body the day he attacked Power Lifter, he accidentally signed them up for an earlier time slot of one o'clock this afternoon.
"Oh, dear Celestia that I won't have enough time to prepare for the show and fur--" Hoity was cut off by his interns Glitz and Glamor.
"Do not fret Mr. Toity, our train arrived half an hour early and we have taken care of everything. The models are being prepared as we speak." Glitz said trying to dismiss most of his boss's fears.
"Very well, let me thank the two of you for your hard work." Hoity at this point was absolutely gonna hire the twins after their internship.
Hoity looked sat himself and saw that the he was still wearing the tattered dress shirt and vest from his ordeal, then he looked back at the train and saw both Field and Stream being carted off to a nearby med tent. The fashion industry of Equestria was a dangerous world full of fights, walk-offs and sometimes sequins. 'I just need to get changed out of this ghastly attire.' Duke rolled his eyes and tried to drown out all this fruity nonsense with heavy metal.
The grey stallion was about to make his way to a shower and put on a fresh set of clothing when a supervisor for the show stopped him. "Mr. Toity you are going on in five minutes, I'm sorry to say this but prep time is over."
Hoity was about to protest this, but he realized it would do him no good and Duke surely was not going to help him out in a situation such as this.
The announcer came on to the loud speaker. "I am pleased to present the latest work from Hoity Toity!" The crowd when wild as the veteran fashion designer walked out from behind the curtain to be present while 'his' work went on display.
The earth pony's disheveled appearance plenty of reactions from the audience and photographers and not in a bad way. Hoity could hear the whispered words of the ponies, and other creatures present.
"He looks rugged."
"That’s type of stallion worthy of siring my eggs." A large green and blue dragoness called out.
"Where can I get a shirt like that?"
A certain sky blue fashion photographer blushed heavily at the stallion's new look.
Several of them even threw hotel keys at him. Hoity was extremely confused by the attention he was getting and maybe his cerebral roommate was on to something.
His praise for Duke was short lived when he saw what the models were wearing. He didn't recall ever making those outfits. They were wearing red lace, black vinyl and latex. It was a mess of garter belts, lingerie, socks and bondage. "WHAT IN THE NAME OF EVERYTHING THAT IS HOLY, DID YOU DO?!" He screamed at Duke.
"I fixed your lame homo-designs." He said confidently.
"BY DRESSING THEM UP AS WHORES?!" Hoity continued to yell as he currently wanted to dig the deepest hole and bury himself in it at this point in time.
The fashion guru or ex-fashion guru as he thought was contemplating on how to salvage his career after this show. He expected boos and tirades over what his models were wearing but no such reaction came instead he heard cheers and provocative "whoos" he looked at the crowd whom were all loving the new risky designs.
"Bu~ How?"
Duke peaked over the newspaper he was now reading in Hoity's mind. "Sex sells, baby."
After the show critics and the press were praising Hoity's new line of lingerie and even the ninety year old minotaur owner of Playbull wanted to commission some new outfits. What Hoity thought was going to be a complete disaster turns out to be one of his best shows in a very long time. Hoity made his way past the crowd and Field and Stream whom were both in more bandages than a pair of mummies visibly shuttered as the now proud fashion guru walked to his dressing room. He saw a note in the door that read:
Hoity it is I Foto Finish would like to request your company at my studio off of Aventura Boulevard.
Hoity was ecstatic at this message and Duke was hopeful at the prospect at finally getting more tail since it had been more than forty-eight hours since he last got laid.
One change of clothing, a cab ride and twenty minutes later the grey earth pony arrived at Foto's studio simply named The Factory. There was one tiny issue and was it was now on fire. Scratch that last part it was a huge issue and the building was raging inferno. It would later be found out the fire was caused by very flammable silver nitrate being exposed to a warm flash bulb.
Hoity rushed to the entrance and saw Foto's entourage standing outside the building. The firefighters were simply trying to contain the blaze.
"Is anyone still in there?!" Hoity questioned a blue maned stylist. "We think Miss Finish is still in there."
"Is anyone going to save her?"
"The fire is too big and the fireponies are just trying to stop the fire from spreading as magic has no effect on silver based flames."
Hoity could just barely hear a something coming from a second story window. "Looks, like we have to save her Duke."
"Yeah, how about no." The king said in a cold voice.
"What do you mean no?! What about the whole hero thing?!" Hoity shouted out loud.
"The hero thing as you call it only works for large groups of people. I mean looks at this way she's only one chick, there are millions of them elsewhere."
"Fine, I don't need your help. I can save her myself." Hoity was about to run into the burning building not he felt that his hooves wouldn't move. "Duke, let me have control of my legs, now."
"No."
Hoity knew the only way to win was to build up enough will power. He mentally grabbed one of his own forelegs and punched himself in the face. In Hoity mind that sent Duke reeling back slightly.
The ponies in the area were watching the fashion guru kick his own flank. Hoity bashed his head against the concrete of the sidewalk. "THIS...IS MY...BODY... DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND!!!?”
Duke was for one the first time in his life. He was slowly fading away and Hoity knew it, so instead of beating himself unconscious which would mean he couldn't save Foto. He stopped fighting and rushed into the building. Once he was inside he bucked open the door to the stairs. Hoity finally found her with a support beam pinning her to the ground. "Foto!" He called out to her to see if she was still conscious. He received no response.
The fashion guru had to work fast. So adding one more injury to his list for the evening, he rammed himself into the beam causing it to snap in half and he lifted the unconscious and burned but still breathing mare on to back just as the ceiling from the floor above gave out. Hoity saw the entrance of the building but blacked out as he just massaged to get outside.
(Blackness)
Once again Duke was in the void and once again there was Tim the grim reaper. The former kicker of ass turned to the robbed figure and shrugged his shoulders. "What the hell." Duke crossed over to the other side.
The void was now bathed in a soft white light as Duke stepped forward with the grim reaper making sure that this time he didn't try to pull a fast one.
Four days Later at Mareami Urgent Care
Hoity had woken up six broken ribs, a collapsed lung, a heavy concussion and deep lacerations to his front legs. He woke up about two day after the incident and when he came to; he noticed a lack of Duke Nukem.
As for why he was still at the hospital, he was visiting Foto Finish whom looked like she had been through hell herself.
Foto Finish was finally waking up after four days. She noticed the grey stallion and motioned towards him to come closer. She threw her forelegs around his neck and brought him in for a tight hug which wasn't a good idea as she yelped in pain as her legs were still covered in burns.
Instead of returning the embrace Hoity firmly pressed his lips into hers because if there is one thing he learned from Duke and that was to 'just go for it.'
Foto just giggled at this brash action. "So, where do we go from here?"
"Well, my dear since I now have more than a few new commissions; I am going to skip waiting for the Gala to spend time with you instead once you leave this dreary place, I shall take you out for a night on the town here on Down Beach. Then I am going to..." Hoity learned in and whispered something into Foto's ear which caused the sky blue mare to go wide-eyed and blushed heavily at the grey stallion's intimate suggestion.
"...aren't you a little bold?" She cooed.
Hoity shook his head. "My dear Foto, fortune favors the bold."
Foto scooted over in the hospital bed and motioned for Hoity to join her and the two continued to make conversation and hold each other. A nurse got an earful of what they were talking about and decided to close the door to the private room less the two fashion-centric ponies disturb the other patients.
The End
Special thanks to anyone who waited patiently for this fic.
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I waited quite a bit just to get the end. Pretty good in the end though.
1117085
At least I didn't give you terrible controls, and a breakneck and jarring tone shift like DNF. I had this story on the back burner for a while, hell I even had the plot written out months ago, things just got in the way. I'm glad you liked it.
1117133 I didn't mind Forever. I mean. What happened for you was same for DNF. Complications and problems. When you look at it, Forever actually tries to keep up with the evolution of games the farther you progress. It wasn't exactly meant to make a statement, but it does do a decent job of it. Think about it, look at the way it darkens and shifts, going from our action fun to the dark and eery to the cheap and brown. The whole of the game was just trying to keep with what was popular at the time of the section's creation. Cut it open and look it over and in the end, it's exactly what you'd pay for if it were any other game like Call of Duty or Quake.
1118038
Yeah, but the story feels like a composite of different story ideas that were shoe horned together as the years went by as development teams were shifted around, so instead of one well told plot, what we got was a hodgepodge different ideas fed through a meat grinder and it feels jarring. The game makes fun of modern conventions like rechargeable health and does what it insults. Gear Box did what they could and at the very least made the game playable. Before you jump down my throat, I really want to see what that developer can do with the franchise because i can see them making one hell of a Duke Nukem game. The only game to come out recently that captured the feel of DN was Epic Games' Bulletstorm, the protagonist feels like our cigar chomping friend, hell Duke would have felt right at home in that game: crass humor, ultra-violence, big guns, one-liners and explosions.
1119160 don't forget the over use of alcohol in combat and plenty of freaks to asses to kick.
WOTNESS ME, that was ossim >:D
2400366
I was thinking of doing a follow up, but instead of Duke it would be Barney Stinson Possesses Caramel.
Well shit, that's all the endorsement I need! You should do Doomguy next.
I only now actually read this. There are a few sentences that seem to have missing words, but this was a damn fine read. I'm surprised Duke didn't object to Hoity breaking his shades when fighting the rednecks though, sunglasses are sunglasses. Can't believe the Duke is really gone though.
9/10, damn fine story!
I literally just put this on tacking 10 minutes ago
first update in years
wow timing lol
Hugh Hefner died two days ago. May his soul Rest In Porn.