Chapter 1 A Salty crossover

 

🇺🇸 STG. SALTY AND THE MISFITS MEET AMERICAN DAD

The Langley Falls Incident

It was supposed to be a quiet Wednesday morning in Langley Falls.

Stan Smith was standing in the kitchen, staring suspiciously at a bowl of cereal.

“Francine,” he said slowly, “why does this cereal taste like disappointment?”

Francine looked over.

“Because you bought the cheap stuff.”

Stan nodded.

“I knew it. Communist cereal.”

Roger wandered into the kitchen wearing a dressing gown, sunglasses and a large cowboy hat.

“Stan, we need to talk.”

Stan sighed.

“Roger, whatever it is, no.”

“You don't even know what I'm going to say.”

“I know you.”

Roger paused.

“Fair.”

Suddenly, the entire house shook.

BOOOOOOOOM!

Stan grabbed a frying pan.

“Everyone down!”

Steve screamed.

Hayley looked out the window.

“Dad… there's a tank in the garden.”

Stan's eyes widened.

“A tank?”

Outside stood a Leopard 2 battle tank, covered in stickers, Irish flags, badly applied camouflage and one enormous sign reading:

STG. SALTY'S INTERNATIONAL MISFIT EXPRESS

The hatch opened.

Stg. Salty climbed out wearing sunglasses.

Behind him came Govna, Quags, McFinleyyy, Whizz, Ye Olde Large Lad, Senior Salty, Senior Miguel, Big Al's Buggers, Sarah, Susan, Lucy and Laura.

Stan stared.

Salty waved.

“Morning!”

Stan raised his gun.

“WHO ARE YOU?”

Salty looked at the tank.

“I'm Stg. Salty.”

Stan frowned.

“And why are you in my garden?”

Salty thought about it.

“Well… technically, we were aiming for Washington.”

Everyone turned towards Whizz.

Whizz shrugged.

“I told ye the sat-nav was dodgy.”

Quags pointed at the sat-nav.

“It said ‘recalculating’ for forty minutes.”

McFinleyyy nodded.

“And then it told us to turn left at the White House.”

Stan looked horrified.

“You were heading for the White House?!”

Ye Olde Large Lad climbed out of the tank.

“We thought it was a pub.”

Stan stared at him.

“How?”

“It had a big white building.”

Senior Miguel nodded solemnly.

“Good pub architecture.”

---

ROGER MEETS THE MISFITS

Roger had been watching from the window.

His eyes lit up.

“Stan…”

“No.”

“But Stan—”

“No.”

“There are Irish people with a tank in our garden.”

“No.”

“And I haven't even picked a disguise yet.”

Roger disappeared upstairs.

Thirty seconds later he returned dressed as an elderly Irish woman called “Mairead”.

Salty looked him up and down.

“Who are you?”

Roger smiled.

“I am Mairead O'Sullivan, retired librarian.”

Susan whispered to Sarah.

“That's Roger.”

Sarah nodded.

“Definitely Roger.”

Roger's smile vanished.

“How did you know?”

“Your eyebrows.”

Roger touched them.

“Damn.”

---

THE FBI GET INVOLVED

Stan immediately called the CIA.

“Langley Falls has been invaded by a heavily armed Irish tank crew.”

There was a pause on the phone.

The CIA operator asked:

“Are they hostile?”

Stan looked outside.

Govna was having a tea party with Francine.

Quags was trying to teach Klaus how to swear.

McFinleyyy was inspecting the Smith family's barbecue.

Whizz was sitting in the tank eating crisps.

Ye Olde Large Lad was attempting to fit through the front door.

“No,” Stan replied.

“They seem… friendly.”

The operator sighed.

“Then you're on your own.”

Stan slammed down the phone.

“Typical.”

---

BIG AL'S BUGGERS

Meanwhile, Big Al's Buggers had discovered the local shopping centre.

They returned twenty minutes later carrying approximately seventeen bags.

Stan looked at them.

“What did you buy?”

Sarah smiled.

“Essentials.”

Stan opened one bag.

“Why do you have six inflatable flamingos?”

Susan shrugged.

“They were on offer.”

Lucy held up a giant sombrero.

“And this.”

Laura pointed towards another bag.

“We also bought a karaoke machine.”

Stan rubbed his forehead.

“You've been here twenty minutes.”

Senior Salty walked past carrying a lawnmower.

“I got this.”

Francine smiled.

“Do you need a lawnmower?”

Senior Salty shook his head.

“No.”

“Then why did you buy it?”

“I don't know.”

---

SALTY VS STAN

Stan finally decided enough was enough.

He marched up to Salty.

“Listen, Salty. You're going to explain exactly why you've brought this group of lunatics to Langley Falls.”

Salty folded his arms.

“Simple.”

Everyone gathered around.

“We were looking for a holiday destination.”

Stan waited.

“And?”

Salty pointed at Roger.

“He said America was cheap.”

Roger protested.

“I said South America!”

Everyone looked at him.

Roger shrugged.

“Well, technically, I was drunk.”

Stan sighed.

“This is a nightmare.”

Then Klaus swam into the room.

“Stan, I have an idea.”

Stan looked at him.

“No.”

“You don't even know what I'm going to say.”

“I know you too.”

Klaus continued anyway.

“We should have a party.”

Salty's eyes lit up.

“Now you're talking!”

---

THE PARTY

Within an hour, the Smith house had become the biggest party Langley Falls had ever seen.

Music was blasting.

Francine was dancing with Sarah.

Susan was teaching Steve how to do an Irish jig.

Lucy and Laura were attempting karaoke.

McFinleyyy was guarding the snacks.

Whizz had somehow managed to connect the Leopard 2's speakers to the house stereo.

Ye Olde Large Lad was dancing with Roger.

Roger was wearing a glittery jacket.

Stan stood in the corner looking increasingly traumatised.

“Francine.”

“Yes, Stan?”

“I think I hate Ireland.”

Salty walked over.

“Don't worry, Stan. We're not all like this.”

Stan looked around the room.

Quags was wearing a lampshade.

Govna was arm-wrestling Klaus.

Senior Miguel was trying to fix the karaoke machine with a screwdriver.

Big Al's Buggers were dancing around the kitchen island.

And Roger had just climbed onto the Leopard 2 wearing a Viking helmet.

Stan stared.

“Really?”

Salty nodded.

“Okay… most of us.”

Suddenly, the tank engine started.

Everyone stopped.

Whizz shouted from the driver's seat:

“WHO WANTS TO GO TO WASHINGTON?”

Stan screamed.

“NO!”

The tank rolled forward.

“STOP!”

It rolled through the garden.

“STOP THE TANK!”

Salty jumped into the passenger seat.

“Whizz! BRAKE!”

Whizz looked down.

“I thought this was the brake!”

He pressed something.

The tank's smoke launchers fired.

POOF! POOF! POOF!

The entire garden disappeared into smoke.

Roger shouted:

“THIS IS THE BEST PARTY EVER!”

---

THE MORNING AFTER

The following morning, Stan woke up on the sofa.

There was a traffic cone on his head.

A karaoke microphone was beside him.

And someone had parked the Leopard 2 on the front lawn.

Francine walked in holding coffee.

“Morning.”

Stan groaned.

“Where's Salty?”

“Gone.”

Stan sat up.

“What?”

“They left at six.”

Stan looked relieved.

“Thank God.”

Francine handed him a note.

Stan read it.

«Dear Stan,

Thanks for the hospitality.

Sorry about the lawn.

We've taken the barbecue.

Also, Roger says he's coming to Ireland with us.

Good luck.

Stg. Salty & The Misfits»

Stan's face dropped.

“Roger!”

From outside came a distant voice.

“GOODBYE, STAN!”

Stan ran to the window.

Roger was sitting on top of the Leopard 2 wearing a shamrock hat.

Salty waved.

The Misfits cheered.

The tank disappeared down the road.

Stan stood silently.

Francine smiled.

“Well, at least it's quiet now.”

There was a pause.

Stan looked at the destroyed garden.

Then at the traffic cone.

Then at the barbecue-shaped hole in the patio.

“No.”

He sighed.

“It's never going to be quiet again.”

And somewhere several miles away, Ye Olde Large Lad shouted:

“WHO KNOWS THE WAY TO THE PUB?”

Whizz shouted back:

“THE SAT-NAV DOES!”

Quags replied:

“IT DOESN'T!”

BOOOOOOOOM!

Stan closed his eyes.

“Of course.”

THE END… FOR NOW. 🇮🇪🇺🇸