As the war worsened, bungles stronghold tightened,
Georges Italy joined in the fun.
Things looked grim for Zippy and his allied forces but
they fought on. They fought on in the air, his RAF
boys bombed Bungle's Germany, shot down his plans and
generally pissed him off. Zippy’s navy fought on,
thir objective - to destroy enemy vessels, and they did,
for a bit anyway until bungle decided to have a "sink
every bastard British ship" kind of mood and indeed
did sink a few along the way.
Zippy’s army fought on too, in the frontlines,
behind enemy lines and anywhere else they could find a
German officer, but Bungle's forces outweighed Britain’s
and Zippy’s boys became tired and weak they needed
something to boost their morale. And in true rainbow
tradition it shortly came, Zippy knew Bungle would
soon take more of France and so sent each solider an
extra ration of sausages, a picture of himself and the
orders to make one last counter-offensive. A fierce
battle followed and many soldiers from both sides were
lost.
Both Zippy and Bungle and George felt useless it was
now up to their troops to determine the fate of the war,
and inevitably they did and although it was never said
both sides knew the end was near. This was not now
about politics or a nation's duty, it was about pride,
patriotism, sheer hate and above all the desire to
give each leader exactly what they needed (a slap).
And in an almost evil twist of fate the much loved,
much feared, much hated Bungle lost as did of course
George. Zippy was pleased, pleased that HIS county had
fought that evil bear and pink hippo, although
they were the super powers and although they had
superior forces they didn’t have what Zippy had to win
the war;the legandary Zippy sprit, the Bulldog spirit.
This British 'Bulldog spirit' was never best suited
by one character at exactly the right time than by
zippy and his country at this time.
George returned to Italy and became a pimp and part
time art critic
Bungle made a smart move and returned back to his
father's woods where he stayed alone, crying himself to
sleep every night until one day in the mid-eighties he
was discovered by some strange American man who
had this twisted idea of reuniting him with his old
friend, and his worst enemy in a house where they
could walk round naked, with this bloke/peacekeeper
called Geoffrey and make nice paintings and card
houses to their hearts content and hopefully make
friends with each other, all whilst being broadcast on
British telly. Genius.
And indeed it seems that the rest is well and truly
history.
