IN A SEEDY, DECREPIT ALLEY IN NEW ORLEANS, ONE THAT REEKS OF DESPAIR, BROKEN DREAMS, AND SQUANDERED FEMA FINANCIAL ASSISTANCE...
ZARANA: Now let's see...that Craigslist ad said the alley of Va te Faire and Seventh, so it's gotta be...around...here...
ZARANA: Wait a minute. Va te Faire...that means...aw, shyte. I been hoodwinked!
ZARANA: Keep yer wits about yeh, girlie. Let's 'av a look around....sumone...or sumfin...set you up.
ZARANA: Now, now, let's jus' see what's around this corner, shall we?
MYSTERIOUS MAN IN TRENCHCOAT: Heh-heh-heh. I ain't behind no corner, Zarana...
ZARANA: Fookin' hell! Izzat?! Is...
ZARTAN: An' I need yer help.
ZARANA: Well you ken jus' fook off. Not aftah you cut me outta that deal on them warheads!
ZARTAN: Shut up an' listen. Them warheads had tracking beacons on 'em an that bloody Scot McCullen didn't think to turn 'em off. Now me whole crews been captured by some fookin' Yanks.
ZARANA: The Dreadnoks is captured? An' what about the warheads? An' McCullen?
ZARTAN: Oh, I told one o' them prissy twins what hired me for the job about McCullen an' the tracking beacons. I expect ol' Cobra Commander's a right bit pissed off about that...
COBRA COMMANDER: Bring me McCullen...NOW!!!
ZARTAN: But that ain't what I need you fer. I need you t'help find me boys...and bust 'em out o' whatever tank they been locked up in.
ZARANA: Them Dreadnoks was a bunch a right wankers, Zartan. Why don't you jus' let 'em go an' find a new crew?
ZARTAN: It ain't about them bein' my crew, luv. It's about what they know...an' what they'll tell.
MEANWHILE, BACK AT THE PIT...
RECONDO: Here's the prisoners we captured in Burma, Duke.
DUKE: Great. I've been dying to try out my new toy...
DUKE: ...the Rumsfeld-o-Matic 3000!
RECONDO: The Rumsfeld-o-Matic 3000? It looks like a...that's not a...
DUKE: You bet that sweet mustachioed ass of yours it is. Strap down the first victim--er, detainee!
RIPPER: Crikey, this day aent git much worse. Me bloody wrists are killin' me in vis feeng!
DUKE: Yeah, it's gonna get worse, creep. A whole lot worse. Oh man, this gives me such a boner. Sarge!
SGT. SLAUGHTER: Yeah boss?
DUKE: We're almost ready! Now we spread a nice dirty towel over your face...just...like...this, while Sarge over there gets you something nice and cool to drink.
SGT. SLAUGHTER: You sure this is legal, boss?
RECONDO: No way it's legal.
TORCH: Grawler mick truppy trup not gennafin!
RECONDO: I have no idea what you're talking about, but in this case, you're probably right.
DUKE: Okay, Sarge! Let me--er, him, have it! Give it to me--er, him, rough!
SGT. SLAUGHTER: It's just water, but...um...I'll give it to him as rough as I can...I guess.
DUKE: MMMmmmm...yeah. Yeah. Oh yeah! Fill him up with all your man liquid! I love it!
SGT. SLAUGHTER: Um, boss? Are you gonna ask him any questions or anything?
DUKE: Hm? Oh, um. Yeah. Yeah. Okay, creep, tell us where the rest of the warheads are! God, I feel just like Jack effing Bauer!
RIPPER: Ggggguuuuuuurgh. Urrmmm...bolcano. Mt. Shasta. California volcano. I woulda tol' you that iffen yeh jus' ask me. Yuh dinnant hafta dump all that water in me fookin' face!
DUKE: Hell yeah! Uh-huh! That's right! The next warhead is at Mt. Shasta in Northern California!
BUZZER: Yeh bloody fascist, like Rippah sez, we woulda' tol' you that. Yeh jus' never aksed. It's not like we give a shit. We're fookin' mercenaries! Yeh give us a couple a' Oreo cookies an' we'll spill our fookin' guts.
DUKE: Mmmm...Hit him again, Sarge. Hit him deep...let him feel it. Deep, deep inside.
SGT. SLAUGHTER: Uh, I think we're done here, boss.
TORCH: Rufffraw mor nabblerog. Nab--nab--nabblerog. *sniff*
DUKE: You heard the man, Falcon. The next warhead is being placed at Mt. Shasta. Assemble a team and take it out!
FALCON: This...whole...thing...was...um...awkward. But okay. I'll get Wild Bill, Spirit and Bazooka and head over there.
SGT. SLAUGHTER: Can I drink this now?
MEANWHILE, AT COBRA'S TEMPORARY HEADQUARTERS IN THE BASEMENT OF THE EXTENSIVE ENTERPRISES CORPORATE OFFICES...
COBRA COMMANDER: Thankssssss for joining usssssss on sssssssuch ssssshort noticccsssssssssccce, Mr. McCullen.
McCULLEN: I ken assure you, the pleasure's all mine, Commander.
COBRA COMMANDER: I'm sssssssure it issssssss, McCullen. I'm ssssssssure it issssssss...
TO BE CONTINUED