Author's Note: This bit of random insanity was the result of a Secret Santa project on Something Awful. To my regular readers, feel free to ignore it. And to my visitors from SA and the Freelance Astronauts, this really is pretty much random insanity, so even though I don't really know you guys, no offense was meant and it's all in fun, so.....don't kill me?

The Freelance Astronauts

In

A New Direction

Far, far above the clouds, hidden in the endless black of space, there was a great space station that watched over the Earth with dedicated snark and relentless sarcasm. This was the great and powerful headquarters of the global heroes known as the Freelance Astronauts, world-renowned for saving the people from ever having to play a bad game again. The blows they took upon themselves were often terrible, particularly after one nearly fatal night of battling the evil Desert Bus, but they always pressed onward, eternally dedicated to their noble cause and even rewarded with a good game now and then.

That is, until that fateful Christmas Day…

All was well in TFA headquarters, or so it seemed. Maxwell Adams, their wise and powerful leader, manned the computer station, diligently watching the news feeds for any word of a bad game. His loyal and noble team of Ferr, Evek and Pipes sat around eating chips and discussing which video game babe was the hottest (Samus Aran was winning). It was just a normal day on the job…when suddenly the main view-screen crackled to life, bearing the image of what appeared to be a hot chick trapped inside a lava lamp.

"Great Gatsby, it's the chief!" Evek exclaimed.

Ferr gasped in fright. "A bad game must have slipped past our sensors! The world will be in terrible danger!"

"And what's worse, we're all out of chips!" Pipes bemoaned.

"Settle down, team!" Maxwell ordered, and turned to the view-screen. "What's the problem, babe—I mean, chief?"

"…Uh…right…listen guys, I have some bad news," the lava lamp goddess said. "It seems your funding has been cut."

"WHAT?!" the team exclaimed in perfectly timed unison. "But why would they do that?!"

"…that…was a little freaky…" LLG shook her head to quickly refocus. "Anyway, the thing is, there's a lot of other super teams out there these days saving the world from bad games. The market's getting clogged."

"Why, I don't see why that's a problem for us!" Ferr argued.

LLG sighed. "Well, see, it's a problem because all the other super teams are…well…better."

"But that's impossible!" Pipes insisted. "We're the greatest super-team there is!"

"…right. Of course you are…" LLG amended. "But uh…the people have…moved on, you see! What with the advent of team Nostalgia Critic and team Angry Video Game Nerd and team Zero Punctuation…I'm afraid the kids today just aren't interested in being saved by the Freelance Astronauts anymore."

"Grapes of Wrath, that's insane!" Evek argued. "The Nostalgia critic doesn't even review GAMES half the time!"

"And the Angry Video Game Nerd is an asshole!" Pipes added.

"And that Zero Punctuation guy is a limey asshole!" Ferr agreed.

"I'm sorry…there's nothing I can do, guys. The decision's been made. The Freelance astronauts are off the video game circuit."

"Pride and Prejudice! We're doomed!" Evek gasped.

"Is there truly no hope?" Maxwell asked.

"I'm afraid not," LLG said. "But don't worry, I've got new jobs all lined up for you. I've already got Crinkly Plastic Bag a job at a supermarket, and Waffle Iron's working at the local IHOP."

"Oh the horror!" Ferr wailed. "Poor CPB…poor Waffly!"

"C'mon, chief, you HAD to have found a better job for us than THAT!" Pipes demanded.

LLG smiled disarmingly. "O-oh, of…of course. Don't worry, you guys. You'll still be saving the world…just…not from bad games…"

"Then what ARE we saving the world from?" Maxwell pondered

The goddess took a deep breath. "Freelance Astronauts, your new assignment is to save the world from…"

The whole team leaned forward with baited breath. "From…?"

"…bad fan-fiction."

Awkward silence.

Awkward silence.

Crickets chirped.

Awkward silence.

"…bad fan-fiction?" Maxwell echoed, blinking in surprise.

"That's correct."

"…Dear God, we must have been HORRIBLE in a past life!" Ferr groaned.

"Madame Bovary, how will we ever survive such a terror as this?!" Evek wailed.

"There'll be nothing left of us to bury!" Pipes shuddered. "We'll be torn to shreds and our bones picked clean, and then the bones will be melted in the most vitriolic acids known to man! Have you SEEN fanfiction dot net? It's a cesspool! AN EVIL, BOILING CESSPOOL!"

"You can't be saying it's as bad as playing Bible Buffet?!" Ferr asked.

"WORSE!" Pipes shouted, near panic. "It's a hundred times more evil than Bible Buffet, the new Sonic the Hedgehog games and the Phillips CD-I COMBINED!

"Oliver Twist, we won't last but a few seconds!" Evek exclaimed.

"There MUST be something else!" Ferr begged of the woman floating in gelatinous goo. "Please, chief, there's got to be something, ANYTHING else!"

"I'm sorry, but it's all I've got," the lava lamp goddess said with a sigh. "The only other option is to decommission the satellite completely."

"Our precious headquarters?!" Ferr gasped.

"…Maybe that's not such a bad price to pay, really…" Pipes murmured.

"Alright, team, that's enough! Pull yourselves together!" Maxwell suddenly barked at them, and everyone whirled around to look at him in surprised awe, for he was the wisest and bravest of them all.

"Boss…?" Ferr whispered softly.

"Come on now, everyone, have you forgotten who we are?" he began. "We are the Freelance Astronauts! Yes, we may have spent our lives saving the world from bad games, but that was merely details. What we truly exist to do is to serve the people. And in that sense, the chief is right."

"…I am?" LLG said in surprise.

"Yes. It's true that there are other super teams out there defending the world from bad video games, and doing a fine job of it, too! The world doesn't need so many of us dedicated to the same cause, and by God, if the people have spoken, then we must step aside from video games, and face that which TRULY strikes fear into the hearts of all citizens. We must meet the flood of bad fan-fiction head-on, directly to the forehead!"

"…the boss is right," Ferr admitted.

"He is. We're the Freelance Astronauts. By The Scarlet Letter, we can't let this poison continue to affect the world!" Evek agreed.

"But how will we survive?" Pipes shivered. "The bad fan-fiction is just so…so…bad!"

"Look on the bright side, my boy!" Maxwell said cheerily. "Use it to your strength. Why, I remember having a jolly good time facing off against a bad game or two. I'm sure it'd be child's play to find dozens of fan-fictions bad enough to be more fun to battle than the worst game we ever faced!"

Ferr scratched his head in disbelief. "I dunno…I played Shaq Fu."

Maxwell ignored that. "What do you say, team? Shall we quell this new menace with most extreme prejudice?!"

"Yeah!" the team announced.

"I'm glad you guys could see reason," LLG said with a smile. "And to get you started, here's your first assignment. Good luck, Freelance Astronauts!"

The lava lamp goddess vanished from the screen with a swirl of purple goo. A second later the computer dinged with the sound of an incoming message, and up popped a link to the dreaded website.

"Alright gang, let's see what we have here…" Maxwell announced, and opened the link.

"……"

"……"

"……"

"My god, it's horrific!"

"The worst thing I've ever seen in my life!"

"East of Eden, such horrible characterization!"

"And the plot! What utter drivel!"

"Don't worry, boys," Maxwell said. "I know just how to deal with a fan-fiction THIS horrible." He reached a finger across his massive keyboard and swiftly pressed the delete ke—

Dedicated to Lava Lamp Goddess. Merry Christmas from your Something Awful Secret Santa!