Oh My God Everything Is Helicopters

By Cole Reulbach

What would happen if every scientist in the world developed a crippling cocaine addiction and turned everything in the world into helicopters? If for some reason this is a question that keeps you awake at night (you weirdo), then this is the book for you.

In this objectively kind of awesome future, there are those who would fight against Science and their helicopters. They are the Resistance. They didn't pay their marketing department enough so, yea...that's the name they got. Led by a General who's name can't be typed here since it's mostly just expletives, the Resistance leads the fight against the scientists and helicopters that run the world. Four idiots, a scientist turned rogue, a woman who's half helicopter, a fifth idiot, and more, are the sorts of poorly thought out characters that you will find on this absolutely stupid journey to reclaim a world long gone.

If this sounds cool to you...then hey, we should hang out some time. You seem to have a diverse set of interests.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cole Reulbach
• Release date: Jul 1, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370711925

Cole Reulbach

My name is Cole, and I write dumb, purposefully stupid stories, mostly as a form of self-therapy. It lets me vent, and often times I try and make them as ridiculous as possible. I recently decided, "Hey, maybe I can sell these?", so that's what I'm doing here. Selling my therapy to you. You're welcome.

Book preview

Oh My God Everything Is Helicopters

By

Cole Reulbach

Copyright © 2015 by Cole Reulbach

Published by Cole Reulbach at Smashwords

Table Of Contents

Helicopter Prologue

Chapter 1: Helicopter Mission

Chapter 2: Helicopter Revelations

Chapter 3: Helicopter Threats

Chapter 4: Helicopter Thrust

Chapter 5: Helicopter Defenses

Chapter 6: Helicopter Espionage

Chapter The One After The Last One

Chapter Oh Hey Here’s Another Chapter

About the Author

Praise and Accolades for 2090: When Everything Is Helicopters

"I would recommend reading this largely because, even though he is advising me to tell you he's not, I must insist that the author of this book is a danger to both himself and anyone else he points that gun at."

-Jack Phillips, My Court Appointed Therapist

"I'm sorry, the Pope is unavailable for comment."

-Francesca, Secretary

"Honey, it's nice that you wrote a book, but I don't want to read all these curse words and graphic depictions of genitalia."

-My Mom, Mom

"This is a stupid book. Really stupid. If you intend to enjoy it in any form, then you really need to eject any set of standards that you have, and just sit back and get ready for some painfully ineffective attempts at comedy."

-Cole Reulbach, Author(?)

Helicopter Prologue

"Maybe someone threw a backpack full of cocaine into the spinning rotor blades of a helicopter, and at that moment everyone nearby had also been experiencing severe asthma attacks, and when they reached for their inhalers they found that those had also been filled with more cocaine?"

Information about how exactly helicopters began to permeate every facet of our world and culture is scarce, to say the least. At least the genesis of the idea. Where and when exactly did the Scientists involved in promoting helicopterization really sit up and decide that what they where thinking about was a good idea? When did they choose to broach their ideas to the military? Was it shortly after Science saw the first helicopter and thought, Yes. That. We want more of that.? Cocaine? Cocaine.

Regardless of exactly when they had the idea, that idea in question was first brought to the attention of a military council in early 2020. It was first broached by several very wide eyed Scientists under the tagline "So, Helicopters Are Pretty Fuckin' Rad, Right?". And while many members of the military council nodded solemnly in agreement over the general radness of helicopters, their budget wouldn't allow for any of the proposals that Science was suggesting.

So Science turned to the private sector.

They got their initial budget from the aerospace industry, when they argued that helicopters staggering ability to move in not only most directions, but in all of them, proved their superiority over airplanes. After some money and cocaine exchanged hands/noses, this idea was accepted as fact.

So Science developed helicopters that where faster then airplanes.

They did this by sticking a whole bunch of extra rotors on normal helicopters in a stark refusal to acknowledge both the currently accepted laws of aerodynamics, and physics in general. It worked like a charm.

Unfortunately, the general public was resistant to this change, and suggested that maybe this was sort of dangerous. Science countered these arguments by pointing out how helicopters traveled by using internalized explosions to power giant blades that spun fast enough to give the finger to gravity itself, and how this fact was, in their scientific opinion, metal as hell.

And then they went and made personal helicopters.

Science somehow got the idea that the reason the general public was resentful towards having to use spinning death traps as a form of mass transit, was that they where unable to pilot these contraptions themselves. They where mostly wrong, but just right enough to end the world.

They created helicopter backpacks that where easily purchasable at most major retailors. They caused a lot of injuries, but impossibly enough, these where one of the first and last things created by Science that actually worked for it's intended purpose. And they became rich from this fact. So they invested.

In more helicopters, obviously.

Things got really silly, really quickly. And by silly I mean unsafe for use by the general population. But that didn't even slow Science down.

They bought up manufacturing plants around the world by the dozen, and merged their research and development departments together, and began putting helicopter parts on things that really had no business having helicopter parts put on then.

The world at large arched an inquisitive eyebrow as they watched Science roll out lines of toasters that cooked your toast to a golden brown, and then took off in flight and diced the bread due to internal rotors. They made tooth brushes that cleaned teeth by literally grinding off any plaque. Or enamel. They built roto-trash cans and helicopter televisions. Helicopter shirts and helicopter butter. They stuck rotors everywhere they could, and then oftentimes threw a few more on top of those.

And people couldn't just avoid buying these things. Science made sure that there weren't any competitors.

A congressional inquiry was eventually held about Science creating a monopoly on…most things, and about possible crimes against humanity. This inquiry lasted for one week, four billion dollars and an undisclosed number of cocaine bricks. And at the end of it all, Science had full governmental backing. They had bribed their way to helicopterization.

Over the next several years other countries watched in detached horror as Science flooded the market and the world with helicopter books, helicopter shoes,, helicopter condoms (bladed, for nobodies pleasure), helicopter doors and helicopter everything else. But soon Science used their massive profits (and just silly amounts of cocaine) to convince those countries to wad up stacks of cash, shove that cash in their ears, and say "la, la, la, I can't hear you!" to the growing concerns of the population.

Soon after, governments made it illegal to to speak ill of helicopters, or Science.

So even when Science started to build a giant, clearly evil movie villain-esq helicopter fortress, nobody was legally allowed to say a word, under the threat of swift, presumably rotor-based justice.

Here's where the records get a little fuzzy again.

At some point, authority began to shift from governments, to Science themselves.

Congresses and Parliaments and other governing bodies, through some combination of bribes, spies and the threat of a helicopter backed military, slowly stepped down, and turned their power and authority over to Science themselves.

Power over the world was now held by a bunch of lab coat wearing people who it was suggested might have a slight recreational drug problem. And these people ruled the world from Science Tower, the previously mentioned evil lair.

It was huge, made out of millions of rotors, and housed enough R&D departments to keep flooding the world with thousands of new and exciting helicopter based developments.

It was one of these developments that sparked the revolution.

Now, resistance against Science and their helicopters had always existed in some form. But it was largely in small, scattered concentrations that where quickly quelled by the supporters being thrown into helicopters. But when Science announced the Emitter to the world, that's when things got serious.

Created from a combination of high technology and what was probably honest to God dark sorcery, Science had created a machine that they claimed could let off a pulse that would turn literally everything in the world into helicopters.

So, even though they would be fighting the Science-Controlled helicopter miliary, a true resistance formed under the command of the legendary General Titpunch Steelfucker.

He had been a vocal supporter of both the resistance and of having a totally badass name since as long as anyone could remember. And after hearing about the Emitter, he formed together an army of his own, and marched on Science Tower.

But even under the Generals leadership, they where too late.

Science fired off the Emitter.

But it didn't work.

Through some form of (possibly cocaine related) miscalculation, the Emitter only wound up having an effective range of about ten miles, and didn't work on living things. So it was back to the drawing boards for Science.

And so that's where we are now.

The Resistance fights its way around the world, gathering power and momentum for it's constant drive against Science. It's a long, difficult road, as they fight an enemy that is better funded, better trained, and also equipped with helicopter guns that shoot out terrifying little helicopter bullets. But they fight nonetheless.

And that's where this story starts. The story of the end.

In a box canyon in the desert that is currently in the middle of exploding violently.

Chapter 1

Helicopter Mission

Get those mortars over here!

BOOM!!!

Explosions rang out among the din and confusion. Screams and shouting erupted from around the battlefield.

The helicopters where here.

Fire your weapon soldier! a man shouted at one of the greenies who had been cowering behind a rock, bandaging up his tongue after he started hyperventilating and foolishly used his heli-inhaler.

Shi kthshth thtchry shrr! He shouted, blood gushing from his gaping tongue wound.

Exactly!, the man patted him on the shoulder and raised his weapon to fire back.

The man was a Sergeant in the Resistance. Sergeant Razorwhore, to be specific.

It was a family name.

They where pinned down in the ass end of a box canyon in the middle of the desert; a sneak attack having come pouring through the only entrance that in retrospect really should have been guarded a little better. Which was a damn shame because it had been a nice, warm day beforehand. Even after the battle started it was still sunny and the temperature remained the same, though the explosions and debris made it markedly less nice to be outside.

Hellfire and also just regular gunfire rained down from all directions, blasting apart rocks and shredding tents. The Resistance was outnumbered and surrounded.

I'm hit!

Razorwhore looked over from the huge red boulders he was hiding behind to see a soldier foolishly using his own tent as cover. Not foolish because it's made from fabric…well, actually that's a little foolish. But it's mostly foolish because, go figure, half of the damn thing had rotor blades sticking out of it.

Tung-less guy! Cover me! He shouted directly into the ear of the bleeding Private.

The soldier nodded, a little bit of blood leaking from his mouth. He leaned out from behind the rock and sprayed his gun wildly, not really hitting anything. Solid aiming abilities are one of the first things to go when blood-loss induced tunnel-vision starts to set in.

Razorwhore dashed out from the cover and bolted across the rocky desert floor, the whole time thinking to himself, wow, probably should have helped that guy out with his horrendous mouth-wound first, but now I'm like, half way to the other guy, and it would just look silly if I turned around. Yea, I think I'm just gonna go ahead and keep running. I don't think you really even need a tongue.

Explosions rocked the ground, sending showers of debris blooming into the air, pelting him repeatedly. It was actually pretty annoying.

Nearing the wounded man, the Sergeant leapt a great distance and landed on his ass, sliding several feet before skidding to a stop.

Don't worry soldier, help is here! he shouted, pulling a stone out of his crack.

Oh thank God! It hurts pretty badly! Do you have a med-kit? The young man asked as he lay bleeding on the ground.

What? No. Why the heck would I do that? Even if I could get the thing open without slicing my fingers off, absolutely everything in it is made of pain. All it would do is rip you open even more. Stupid med-kits.

Oh… He said, just lying there, bleeding a bit.

Yup. Razorwhore responded, opening a granola bar and taking a bite, watching the massive battle all around him. Sure where a lot of people dying horribly.

So, uh…what are you going to do?

Excuse me?

Why did you run over here if you don't have anything to help me?

Well for one, I like running places dramatically. And for another, I felt like talking to you before you died. Seemed like you might be a cool guy. Everyone makes mistakes, though.

Oh, okay. He nodded, seeming a bit confused. I'm gonna go try and find someone else to help me. He said, slowly pushing himself up.

You do that. Razorwhore smiled, taking another bite of his granola bar.

The steadily draining soldier tossed the Sergeant one last confused look before beginning what appeared to be a very painful hobble off towards another grouping of soldiers a few meters away.

Sergeant! Sergeant Razorwhore! A woman’s voice cried over the symphony of explosions .

The Sergeant lazily turned to see a woman running full bore towards him from across the battlefield, rifle blazing as she took excellently aimed shots at the enemy, dropping each with a single round. An explosion raised the earth behind her, causing her to leap through the air, and land in a somersault that ended right next to Razorwhore.

Sup? He nodded.

The fight is turning in our favor, Sergeant!

Why? Are we winning? We kind of suck.

The usual. She shrugged, still breathing heavily.

"The usual" meant that the other guys where getting eviscerated by their own uniforms, weapons, helmets, and whatever else they had on them that was probably not a good idea to attach to something made of meat. It was inevitable in every battle, as Science's fetish for helicopters extended far enough to have them dress their own defenders in wildly impractical helicopter clothing.

Come with me! We'll help with the push to drive them out of the canyon! Sergeant Lieutenant said, laying a hand on Razorwhores shoulder and yes that is her real name.

Yes ma'am! he shouted, hefting his gun up to fight.

They looked out from the sides of their admittedly useless cover to see hundreds of enemy soldiers rushing into the canyon, all of them getting mowed down before they had a chance to get to cover. Hell, the Resistance even killed a couple of them.

They weren't the real threat though (hell of a situation you must be in when the hundreds of guys running at you with machine guns are not the worst thing around). No, the real threat came rolling over the walls of the canyons.

Save for a convenient entrance, the whole canyon was surrounded by hundred foot high cliffs, making for what the Resistance thought was good cover, but was in actuality just really good firing positions for the enemy, since they where also left un-patrolled.

And rolling over the edges of them, where dozens of Razor Tanks.

They weren't the threat either, I wasn't joking when I said that they just rolled over the edge. They just crashed to the ground uselessly, their drivers long since dead from the whirling internal components of the machine, and exploded magnificently, flames licking the scorching pieces of metal that erupted from within.

Fuck that looks cool.

No, the real threat was the actual helicopters.

One of the few things in Science’s arsenal that posed a legitimate threat (at least directly, the crazy driverless tanks where still dangerous as shit) where the honest to goodness, bread and butter helicopters. Yes, in a world where everything is technically helicopters, there are still helicopters. Don’t think about