Albert punched his number into one of the rabbit’s mobile phones and handed it to Duncan Duncanson. “If anything happens, just call me.” Albert and Derek then boarded the former’s space craft. “When the lightening from your sacrifice strikes my ship, it’ll boost the battery, the starter motor will fire into life and we’ll shoot off into space,” explained Albert.
Duncan Duncanson stepped up and struck the Sacrificial Gong.
Neither Albert nor Derek saw the blinding flash of lightening nor heard the deafening clap of thunder that usually followed the sound of the Sacrificial Gong. Albert certainly didn’t feel the immense g-forces pushing him down as he had done on his previous take off 165 million years ago. This, Albert reasoned, was probably bad news. Skoda’s plan hadn’t worked. The batteries of his ship were flat and they were stuck on Nob, or Jud, or whatever this place was called.
It took a moment for Albert to realise he was no longer buckled up in his spacecraft’s cockpit. It slowly dawned on him that he was sitting in some sort of harness or chair. Peering out into the gloom, neither Albert nor Derek had any kind of idea where they were, but they knew they were no longer in the Bunnies’ village clearing.
They both heard a familiar sound: ZZUMMMMM!!
Albert grabbed his lightsabre and turned it on. ZZUMMMMM!!
“You’re too late,” said Harden, “as usual.”
“..er, too late for what exactly?’ replied Albert.
“To save the Bunnies.”
“I didn’t want to save the Bunny I just wanted to get off this rock and back home.”
“Well then, you’re more of a fool than I’d imagined. Because now your fate is sealed.”
With that, Dale Harden charged headlong towards Albert, her lightsabre tearing a line through the air above her head like a giant red sparkler of Damocles. ZZUMMMMM!! KSHHHHHHHZZZZZZ!! Albert lifted his lightsabre instinctively. The lightsabres crossed, as the warriors came clashing together in deadlock.
“Your powers are strong,” said Harden, “Skoda taught you well.”
“He did bugger all, the stupid goblin twat,” said Albert as the two fighters struggled to gain purchase.
“Oi. I heard that,” said the voice of Skoda in Albert’s mind, “any more of that and I’m off.”
Temporarily distracted by the voice in his head Albert didn’t notice the knee rising rapidly towards his groin.
“Oooof, ye bogga.”
Harden smashed Albert on the back of the head with her lightsabre’s hilt. He fell to the floor, but before Harden could strike the final death blow she yelped out in pain jumping into the air.
Derek Derekson had attached his razor sharp teeth to Harden’s backside, and he wasn’t about the let go. Harden spun around like a dog chasing its tail, before suddenly stopping and ramming her arse again a nearby wall. Derek fell unconscious to the floor. Harden span around again, but Albert was gone.
“You cannot hide forever, Albert,” she said.
“I will not fight you,” came the response.
“Give yourself to the Dark Side. It is the only way you can save your friends,” she said. “Yes, your thoughts betray you. Your feelings for them are strong. Especially for... brother. So, you have a brother. Your feelings have now betrayed him, too. Skoda was wise to hide him from me. Now his failure is complete. If you will not turn to the Dark Side... then perhaps he will...
“But,” said Albert, “he already has hasn’t he?”
Dale Harden considered this for a moment. “Well, OK, but before you got here he converted back, albeit moments before I was about to kill him most horribly.”
“You mean Vimto is still alive?”
“Not for much longer I’m afraid,” said Harden, “you should have joined him when you had the chance.”
Harden span around and came face to face with the dark, purple robed figure of the Imperial Lord Vimto. “And you should have killed me when you had the chance,” he said swinging Albert’s lightsabre through the air with unerring accuracy and slicing Harden’s head clean off her shoulders.
Vimto slumped to the floor. “Albert... help me take this mask off.”
“But you’ll die,” said Albert.
“Nothing... can stop that now. Once again... let me... look on you with my own eyes.
Albert removed Vimto’s deep purple helmet one piece at a time. Underneath, he saw a pale, scarred, bald-headed old man—his brother Garth had chosen to have his brain transplanted into the body of an old, bald man, what a plonker.
“Now... go, my brother. Leave me,” said Garth, “You need to destroy our father and the Def Jam Super Star.”
“No. You’re coming with me and Derek. We’ll not leave you here, I’ve got to save you.”
“You already... have, Albert. You were right. You were right about me. Tell our father... you were right. Take this,” he said handing him his Empire Issue mobile phone, “it might come in handy. It’s got an excellent flash and the battery life is superb. It’s the remote control for life.”