Original SWAT Kats Story

I.S.P. (Internet Stupefied Pastmaster)

By MoDaD & Sage

  • 4 Chapters
  • 10,784 Words

(Unfinished) The Pastmaster finds a new way to terrorize MKC, and the SWAT Kats have trouble with Callie, who appears to be having a bad hair day.

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Author's Notes:

Title: I.S.P. (Internet Stupefied Pastmaster) – Part 1
Date: 5-28-02
Authors: Modad and Sage SK
Rating: E
Warnings: Slapstick comedy.

Sage’s Comments: It’s all Modad’s fault. He started it during one of our unusual ICQ chats… and I went along. The concept was just so downright hilarious I just had to contribute at one point. Mind you, what you’re about to read is insanity mixed with the wee hours of the morning at its finest. Don’t be surprised if some of the babble doesn’t make any sense, because…. it’s not supposed to!

Modad’s Comments: I’m happy to take the credit, and also equally glad that Sage didn’t fall off her chair and give herself a concussion. What you are about to read can be described as…unique to say the least. So, keep in mind this isn’t serious, well, maybe seriously weird, but that’s a different matter ?

Chapter 1

We see the Pastmaster at a local Megakat City Starbuck’s quietly sipping his triple mocha latte’, contemplating what his next evil plot to take over the city will be.

“Curse this modern mass of metallic machinery that makes my stomach churn,” Pastmaster said aloud as he checked his email. “Blast this AOL!” Pastmaster shouted as he took his watch out of a nearby wall plug recharger and shot a red beam of light, shattering the laptop.

The Pastmaster raised his head towards the skies, and shook a fist. “Darn you, Bill Gates! Making me suffer like that. As you as my witness, I’ll NEVER use the Internet again!”

As he said this he accidentally spilled his latte’ on his pants, and fumed with enough rage to power a small planet. He screamed a blood curdling cry of rage, and was abruptly stopped by the other attendants in the coffee shop.

“Shhhh!!” they said in unison. Pastmaster stopped, a look of fear on his face. He then grumbled and walked out.

“Curse this modern age,” he muttered. “Curse their e-mail and their webpages and their MP3’s…”

There was a sudden gleam in his eye. It appeared that these modern citizens weren’t able to live without their Instant Messengers and E-Cards. Ahhh… the perfect opportunity to strike.

“Yes. Revenge will be sweet.”

A plan began to form in the Pastmaster’s mind that was so mind numbingly horrible that it made all that had come before look like mere pittance.

“This shall be more incredible than when they invented indoor plumbing,” he chuckled as he walked down the sidewalks of Megakat City.


Chance Furlong sighed heavily, ears drooped at the irritating dial tone of the modem, wishing fervently that his Inbox was worth looking into. If it was more spam, he might as well eliminate his account.

He watched, foot tapping impatiently as his modem took its time, filling the interior of the body shop with the all too familiar connection noise. He clasped his ears, doing his best not to scream in agony. At least now he knew where Jake got the noise for his Banshee Missiles from.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity it connected, and he gave a sigh of relief. He confidently took the mouse in his right paw and clicked on his email icon. He tapped his foot again as he waited for it to load. Then, abruptly his connection failed, and an error message popped up on screen.

“Argh!!!!” Chance yelled as he picked up the monitor and threw it across the room, causing it to shatter into a million pieces. He calmed down as he spoke.

“Jake, the monitor fell off the desk again.”

“Again?” came the same calm voice, and the thinner figure of Jake Clawson, Chance’s partner and best friend. “How did it fall this time?”

“Um, the supports mysteriously collapsed,” Chance said as he walked to the hall closet and opened the door. Lined inside where a few dozen monitors, still in the box. He hefted one up and placed it on the desk.

“Oh, darn. It should be more careful next time…” Jake returned, a small smirk on his face. “What’ll you do when we run outta monitors?”

“Then I’ll move on to the printers,” Chance stated, then quickly said “That is, I mean, if they start to mysteriously get smashed too.”

Jake shook his head, amber eyes rolling towards the ceiling good-naturedly. “How considerate of you,” he returned, patting Chance on the shoulder.

Chance began to reply, but was cut off by the sound of a Klaxon.

“Uh oh, looks like Callie’s callin’.”

“So you’re not gonna run me over to answer it?” Jake called as he went to answer their distress call.

“Just a second,” Chance said as he got on the floor and did a few push ups, then rolled over and did a few sits ups. He then proceeded to do a few other stretches as he stood up again. “There,” he said as he brushed by Jake to head down to the hangar.

Jake paused at that, arched a brow, thought it over, then went after. “What was *that* all about?”

“It’s these tapes, buddy,” Chance said as he held up a ‘Taibo’ exercise video. “Billy Blanks sure is cool,” Chance said as he headed down the ladder. He cart wheeled and did a mid air front flip as he landed next to the blaring klaxon and picked up the receiver of the phone.

“Batman…er, T-Bone here, what’s the problem Ms. Briggs?”

“Hello, are you satisfied with your Internet Service Provider?” a dull, monotone voice asked. Chance blinked, then hung up the phone. “Telemarketers…”

“Telemarketers? HOW did they get into our private communication with Callie?”

Chance shrugged in reply, then picked up the klaxon phone as he star 69’ed, only to get an operator’s voice.

“We’re sorry, but the line you’re trying to reach is currently unavailable, please tell us your phone number and we’ll reply as soon as possible.”

“Sure, no problem,” Chance said happily as he began to recite the phone number to the SWAT Kat’s secret hangar.

“Chance!!!!!” Jake tackled upon realizing what his friend was doing. “HANG UP! HANG UP!!”

“Huh?” Chance asked as he was tackled, dropping the phone. “What was that for?”

“Hello, sir? Hello?” the voice on the phone called out.

“Wrong number!” Jake called into the phone, then hung up. “Chance, I’m revoking your klaxon privileges!”

“What?!” Chance nearly shouted in shock. “But how will I make all my international phone calls, and all my catalog phone orders, and all my prank calls?”

Jake paused. He realized what that meant. No more taunting Dark Kat on a regular basis on his weight issues. And, Chance imitated Richard Simmons so well while Jake couldn’t keep a straight face.

“*Please* Jake!” Chance sobbed. “Not the phone privileges, any thing but that!”

“Okay, okay. Forget I said that.”

Just then the klaxon rang again, and Chance eagerly reached for the receiver.

“If it’s Dark Kat, take it away,” Jake said with an evil grin.

Chance answered.

“SWAT KATs, we break it you buy it,” Chance said into the phone.

“T-Bone, it’s Callie, we got an emergency here!” the familiar distressed voice of the Deputy Mayor called over the phone.

“What is it this time? Dark Kat? Dr. Viper? A sentient pool of slime with aspirations of world domination?”

“Worse, I’m out of hair spray!”

Chance blinked as he gave Jake a look.

“Oh yeah, and the Pastmaster’s doing something over at the phone company, but get me my hairspray first!”

“Wouldn’t it be wiser for us to stop the Pastmaster, then get you your hairspray?” Jake asked.

“NOOOOOOO!!!” Callie roared, her voice sounding just slightly demonic. She then calmed down as she reorganized herself. “Just get me my hairspray.”

Callie hung up as Chance just stared in horror.

“Please tell me that was a demon dressed up as Callie…,” Jake pleaded.

“Is it just me, or is everyone a little bit…stressed lately?” Chance asked as he hung up, then snapped out of his shock. “But anyways, Callie needs us, so let’s not disappoint!”

“She wants us to get a can of hairspray,” Jake returned wryly. “I’m not out to getting her a can of hairspray.”

Chance picked up Jake by his shirt collar and tail, hauling him over to his locker.

“Callie want hairspray, you find hairspray, T-Bone get hairspray,” Chance said in a rather simple manner.

“Wait, that didn’t come out right…,” Jake mused as he was carried to his locker. “I find it, and you get it for her? Doesn’t that give you all the credit?”

“Naw, I’ll say something like ‘Razor found the parking spot’ or something,” Chance said as he ruffled Jake’s hair.

“That’s still taking all the credit.” Jake pouted.

“Look, you wanna keep arguing and face that same wrath we heard over the phone in person?”

“I’ll make sure we have enough change.” Jake took off in a flurry of fur towards their hangar safe, taking out a twenty dollar bill, then rushed back to suit up.


Meanwhile, the Pastmaster’s evil plan was beginning to take place. Utilizing his magical time powers he summoned one of the most horrible things known to the modern realm with which he was currently in.

“What are you going to do?” asked a nearby frightened operator. The Pastmaster snickered in amusement.

“I, the Pastmaster, have brought into this realm what all of you Internet freaks have feared,” the Pastmaster said as he held up what looked to be a piece of technology. “But, I still don’t know, what is this 386?” he asked as he held it up.

The operator screamed in horror, taking on a fetal position as he sobbed incoherently.

“Hrm, it seems as though this modern relic possesses more power than I first thought…,” the Pastmaster thought aloud.

“Thus… I shall rule the city as it is my bidding!” He cackled maniacally, his voice increasing to a high octave for reasons unknown, then let out a melee of coughs that left him keeling over on the floor. “Blast this laryngitis.”

After what seemed like an eternity the two SWAT Kats exited the boutique store, Razor being trailed by dozens of females. T-Bone deployed his low intensity taser on his glovatrix and prodded them back for as long as he could.

“Quick Razor!” T-Bone shouted between prods. “Make a run for the Turbokat, I’ll cover you!”

“Bless your heart, T-Bone! Keep those Mary Sues away from me before they toss me into another one of their love-sick fanfics!” With that, Razor ran towards the jet, his fragile heart beating mercilessly against his ribcage. “T-Bone! C’mon! Save yourself!!”

“Yeah, I hate those Mary Sue fics,” T-Bone muttered. “They’re almost as bad as those parodies that make a mockery of us…,” the larger SWAT Kat said as he pulled out a flash bomb. He then paused as he looked at it, the instructions PULL PIN TO ACTIVATE written clearly on the side. “Hey Razor, how do you use one of these?”

At that moment of distraction T-Bone was attacked, and decided to take a simpler course of action. Slamming the casing into the forehead of the nearest pursuing female he activated the device, causing a bunch of confetti and silly string to shoot out.

“T-Bone!” Razor shouted with all the confusion. “Are you okay, buddy?!”

Amid all the silly string and confetti T-Bone managed to break free and made a mad dash for the Turbokat. Taking out his remote on his keychain he pressed the button that caused the jet to beep and the canopy to open. He hopped inside, and pressed a button marked FLY, which in turn caused to jet to soar into the skies.

“Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for getting me out of that, T-Bone!” Razor sank into his seat, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. “I didn’t think I could handle another Mary Sue upstaging my career as a SWAT Kat. Think about it… She discovers our secret, we’re forced to make her a SWAT Kat… and then I have to… marry her…,” The smaller kat shuddered.

T-Bone shuddered, then pouted.

“And somehow I always get killed, and usually it’s by something stupid. Remember that time that one author iced me by having me ‘accidentally’ looking into the Turbokat’s engines and they somehow ‘accidentally’ turned on?”

“Yeah… I think that one author had issues about your intellect…,” Razor sighed heavily. “You think you have it bad…. I get tortured by Dark Kat and Sue somehow nurses me back to health. I thought I was stronger than that…”

“Me not idiot!” T-Bone blared. “T-Bone intelle…intelli…T-Bone not dumb!” the larger kat said in defiance. An awkward silence then followed.

Razor simply stared. “Please tell me you meant that assa joke, buddy…”

“What?” T-Bone asked. “Are you gonna make fun of me now?”

“I’d never make fun of you unless you laughed along, Bud,” Razor said simply.

“Um….let’s talk about something different,” T-Bone quickly said. “So…”

“Yeah… about the Pastmaster… What do you suppose he’s up to?”

T-Bone shrugged.

“I don’t know, I thought all you vertically challenged types kept in touch.”

Razor gave him a glare, then reached over to smack T-Bone upside the head. “Now don’t you start. Don’t forget one of the authors in *this* fic is short!”

“Ow!” T-Bone said. “Why’d you do that for? The only reason I asked is because I thought you two were on the same ‘level’ .”

“We are *not*! I’m taller than he is!”

“Sure you are,” T-Bone said encouragingly. “Soon you won’t need those stilts at all…”


“Ooo, look, it’s Callie!” T-Bone hastily said, throwing the jet into a dive, colliding with City Hall and crashing right into Callie’s office. “Perfect landing!” T-Bone said as he hopped out, careful not to trip on the debris.

“My head!” Razor wailed from the inside. “And, I lost my lunch!”

“Then find it!” T-Bone said, not getting what Razor actually meant. “And, while you’re at it find mine, too,” he added as he looked around the office. “Hello? Ms. Briggs!” T-Bone called out as he looked under a piece of debris.

Only a small moan escaped Razor’s mouth as he sunk into his seat.

Callie Briggs picked herself up, head throbbing. “T-Bone?”

“Ms. Briggs!” T-Bone said, rushing up. “We got your hairspray!”

“It’s about time,” Callie returned. Her hair was a catastrophe; a mere glimpse caused T-Bone to turn away. He handed her the canned container, and took a step back as she grabbed it. “Phew, I don’t know how much longer I could-” Callie started, but then started to spasm, her eyes glowing red and her head swiveling around on it’s shoulders.

Razor watched, eyes wide. “T-Bone! You BROKE her!”

“I did not!” T-Bone replied. As soon as the words escaped his mouth Callie Briggs with unnatural strength grabbed T-Bone, pressed him above her head and tossed him at Razor.

Razor caught T-Bone as much as he could, then just collapsed. “What’s with her?” came the muffled inquiry.

“I don’t know,” T-Bone said as he got Razor’s foot out of his mouth. Callie Briggs began to levitate off the ground, and a wind began to circulate in the office. “Maybe she’s having a bad hair day?”

Razor simply groaned at the bad pun.

“Heh, that was good, wasn’t it?”

“Just hush and help me get her down.”

“YOU CANNOT STOP ME!” a rather out of character voice said, coming from Callie. “YOU WILL DIE!”

“We’ve heard that one before, Callie. Sorry,” T-Bone said, taking her by the hand.

“Um, T-Bone, I don’t think that’s…” Razor began, but was too late. Callie, using her hair as an offensive weapon, head butted T-Bone.

Upon receiving the head aching sensation, T-Bone collapsed to the ground.

“T-Bone!” Razor shouted, then looked up at Callie. “You killed him! Now who’s gonna fly the jet?”

“I’m sure you can manage!” Callie returned. “Or are you too small to try?”

“That’s not funny!” Razor returned. “So what if I have to use those blocks on my feet to reach the pedals… but that’s beside the point!”

“Blocks?” came the voice of T-Bone from the floor. “Step ladders is more like it.”

“Hush! You’re supposed to be unconscious!”

“Oh right,” T-Bone said as he closed his eyes and let his tongue hang out his mouth. Soon after snoring could be heard.

“Not THAT unconscious!”

T-Bone rolled over, snoring maximized as he cuddled up to a big piece of debris and began to suck his thumb.

Razor sighed heavily. This was going to be a looooong fanfiction.


The Pastmaster tapped his foot as he waited as patiently as he could. He looked at his watch and opened the frame to reveal a digital Timex inside. He growled as he saw what time it was.

“Where are those infernal SWAT Kats?” he asked rhetorically. “If they don’t hurry up I’m going to miss out on my screen time”

“A fine contract I got in this show,” he continued. “I was buried for 800 years and it ends up my ‘bride’ is five feet taller than I am…” He sighed. “Always picking on the little guy…”


Meanwhile, back at City Hall, things weren’t going so great for our two beloved heroes. Razor dodged an incoming blast of energy, whilst T-Bone rolled over again and continued to suck on his thumb in a deep sleep.

“Wow, I didn’t know that Callie could use her glasses to reflect the sun’s light into a deadly laser beam,” Razor said aloud.

“Are you saying that I’m BLIND?!” Callie screamed. She paused suddenly, then looked out towards the sky. “My… that MIR space station is coming along nicely…”

Abruptly the voice of the narrator rose above all else.

“Will Razor be fried by Callie’s dangerous laser beams? Will Callie overcome her hair possession? Will T-Bone ever wake up? Will the Pastmaster expose the world to the terrible horror that he has uncovered? Will the narrator ever stop building up the suspense? Find out on our next episode, same kat time, same kat channel”

“SHUT UP!” Callie and Razor shouted in unison.



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