When evil and mischief befall the mundane and unmotivated citizens of the Province of Stoichiosylvania in the Kingdom of Chemistravinth on the world of Formulakinschtok, only one man is capable of smiting down the aforesaid evil and mischief with smiting power beyond imagination.
But he is dead.
So the citizens of the Province of Stoichiosylvania in the Kingdom of Chemistravinth on the world of Formulakinschtok turn to the Mighty Avogadro and his merry female sidekick, Gregoria (who is not so mighty, but has nails that are simply smashing). Avogadro and Gregoria travel on their Lo Los (which are very much like horses) and shashé about, looking for evil and mischief to smite. They are rather good at smiting evil and mischief (though they aren't really very good at smiting mischief and evil, and are actually rather bad at smiting trouble and malice (though they are good at defeating it). So, basically they are good at smiting evil and mischief, bad and smiting mischief and evil, and good at defeating trouble and malice. (They never really tried defeating or smiting malice and trouble so I don't quite know how good they are at that. Let's get back to the story now, shall we? We shall.))
Now the evil and mischief (or mischief and evil, but not trouble and malice nor malice and trouble) in this story inparticular is the dreaded Lehcar the Guttre. Lehcar the Guttre was this snobby mirtrix of a Skank (which is very much like an evil, novice sorceress). Her sorcery was of little significance. What was really dreaded about her was her dreaded "snob glare." She could vaporize living matter by staring at it.
At the time of this tale, Lehcar the Guttre had captured the township of Topper. Topper was inhabited by a group of exhibitionist freaks with too much fashion sense for their own good. They consisted of a variety of animals: Slibeens (which are very much like hawks), Mollies (which are very much like mice), and Banannas (which are not bananas, but are very much like rabbits). There wasn't a single Topperian who could stand Lehar the Guttre. And not just because she wanted to capture their township and vaporize them. They hated her because she was a superficial, shallow snob. Superficial shallow snobs are very bad. Very very bad.
"No, no, no!" cried Gregoria. "Topper is that way! Past the Valley of Esawl and the Crags of A'ybee!"
"Oh . . . uh. I thought it was over by the Canyon of Seenyurs," replied the dumbfounded Avogadro.
"No, no no! That's the township of Dr'Maklick!"
"Oh! That's right! That's where the Tall Tree of Depression sags! Okay. That's . . . cool."
And so our heroes were off to Topper to battle Lehcar the Guttre.
And they did . . . battle her, I mean.
"Yeaaargh!" cried Avogadro as yet another rib was cracked by a hurled stone.
"Take that, you sniveling little freak!" shrieked Lehcar the Guttre.
"Avi!" cried Gregoria.
"I told you not to call me that!" Avogadro sobbed.
"When are they coming, Avogadro?"
"The secret weapons!"
"Oh, yes! The secret weapons!"
And so the secret weapons came. In from the horizon lept Alegna the Moor, Yma the Cupre, Relyt the Trashtruck, and Nitstuj the Whard.
"Buds!" exclamed Lehcar the Guttre. "What are you doing here? Are you going to help me destroy these losers?"
"No," they all said in unison. "We think you're a snob too. Everyone thinks you're a snob, Lehcar. No one likes you. Oh, and by the way, you're not as attractive as you think you are."
"NO!" cried the Guttre as a cloud of clichéd smoke rose about her in a twirling motion and enveloped her.
And once the cloud lifted, she was gone.
"Yeah!!" cried the random masses of people that spontaneously gathered about. "Ding Dong the Guttre's dead!"
And after Avogadro and Gregoria succeeded in tying up the "secret weapons" and throwing them into a vat of fiknods (which are very much like live, rabid rats) and milk, they rode off, again, into the sunset.