This story is a sequel to The Great Plot Bunny Caper. If you haven’t read that story already, do not worry. It didn’t make any sense anyway.

 

The incidents depicted in this story are the products of a demented mind. Any similarity to a legitimate Hogan’s Heroes Fan Fiction story, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

 

The standard disclaimer applies: I make no claims to any of the characters of the Hogan’s Heroes universe.

 

***********

 

Part 1 – It’s a MAD, MAD, MAD World!

 

Carter burst through the door of the barracks carrying what looked to be a magazine of some sorts and stopped in front of the table, out of breath. Everyone sitting at the table looked at him expectantly. He just stood there huffing and puffing.

 

“Blimey Carter,” Newkirk exclaimed. “Can’t you ever enter a room normally in one of these stories?”

 

“It’s … not … my … fault,” Carter gasped. “I … didn’t … write … this … scene.”

 

He was silent again. Everyone continued to look at him, waiting for him to say something else.

 

“Are you going to tell us why you burst in here like that?” Kinch asked. “Or are you just going to stand there and show us your Big Bad Wolf impression?”

 

“Hey Kinch,” Le Beau exclaimed, “the Big Bad Wolf was my code name in one episode, not Carter’s code name!”

 

“Easy Mate,” Newkirk said. “Nobody wants to take away your code name.” Newkirk looked around the room at everyone, pointing his thumb at Le Beau. “Frenchmen are so temperamental, especially the short ones.”

 

“I’m not short!” Le Beau cried. “I’m just small boned!”

 

“Hold it down fellas,” Hogan said. “I think Carter has finally gotten his wind back.” He looked at Carter. “Go ahead Carter.”

 

“Right,” Carter said. “Well, I got mail …”

 

At the mention of the word, everyone in the room shouted “MAIL!!” and leaped onto the poor unsuspecting sergeant. There was a small melee on the floor of the barracks beside the table. Finally, Newkirk emerged from the pile holding the item that Carter had brought into the room.

 

“Carter,” Newkirk said, “I thought you said you got the mail. This is the only thing you had, where’s the rest of it?”

 

The pile cleared, and Carter got up, looking a bit disheveled. He grabbed a pair of jockey shorts that one-of-the-unnamed-extras-that-is-in-almost-every-episode was holding. “I’ll have you know that I don’t keep mail THERE!” he said angrily.

 

“Carter, are those little bunnies I see on those shorts?” Le Beau asked.

 

Carter flushed with embarrassment and stuffed the shorts into his pocket.

 

“Carter, what about the mail?” Newkirk asked again.

 

“I don’t know Newkirk,” Carter replied. “I didn’t say I was bringing THE mail, I just said I got mail.” He pointed to the item Newkirk was holding. “That’s what I got. I thought Colonel Hogan should see it.”

 

“Are you mad?” Newkirk asked. Hogan held his hand out to Newkirk, who placed the object into his hands.

 

Carter shook his head. “No I am not,” he said. Then he pointed at what Colonel Hogan was now holding in his hands. “But THAT is!”

 

Hogan looked at it. It was a magazine. He looked at the issue date – January 1967. Oh no. Here we go again, he thought. “Carter, where did you get this … this … magazine?”

 

“From the mail carrier Colonel,” Carter replied.

 

“The mail carrier!” Kinch exclaimed. “What is it?”

 

“It’s a person that delivers the mail to the appropriate people as listed on the item being sent, Kinch,” Carter said. “But that’s not important now.”

 

Everyone in the room stopped to look at Carter. “He’s balmy, he is,” Newkirk muttered.

 

“Colonel Hogan,” Kinch said firmly, looking at Carter. “What is that in your hands?” He kept staring at Carter, daring him to make another remark.

 

“It’s called MAD Magazine,” Hogan replied. “And it’s dated January 1967.”

 

A collective groan emerged from all the men in the barracks.

 

“Is THAT guy back again?” Le Beau asked, looking around.

 

“I’m afraid so Le Beau,” Hogan replied. “Looks like we’re in for another bumpy ride.”

 

“Colonel, it’s not just the magazine,” Carter said. “Look at what’s in it.”

 

Hogan leafed through the magazine. Suddenly he flipped back a page and stared at it. “Hokum’s Heroes” he read out loud.

 

Everyone gathered to look over Colonel Hogan’s shoulders, pointing and laughing.

 

“Look, there’s the Colonel!” someone said laughing.

 

“And look at how they drew Le Beau!” someone else said.

 

“Alright, alright,” Hogan exclaimed. “There will be enough time later to have your little laughs.”

 

“But what does this mean?” Carter asked.

 

“Well …” Hogan said.

 

Before he could finish, the barracks door opened again and Klink entered, holding several items in his hand. Schultz followed, shutting the door behind them. Klink walked up to Hogan and slammed the items he was holding on the table in front of the American Colonel.

 

“Hogan, can you explain these?” Klink asked.

 

Hogan looked at the table. “They look like comic books, Kommandant,” he said.

 

“I know that,” Klink said in an exasperated tone. “But look at the title!”

 

Hogan looked. “Hogan’s Heroes” he said aloud. Everyone in the room looked at him.

 

“Well?” Klink said impatiently.

 

Hogan picked up the copy of MAD Magazine and handed it to Klink. “Here, look at this,” he said.

 

Klink started thumbing through the magazine. Every so often he stopped at a page and read. Suddenly he chuckled. “I like this little white spy,” he said. After flipping a few more pages, he stopped. “Hokum’s Heroes?” he asked.

 

Hogan nodded. “You know what this means, don’t you?” he asked Klink.

 

Klink started looking around. “Yes, it means that HE is back again,” Klink responded.

 

“More than that,” Hogan said. “It means that we will be the subject of a 1960’s TV sitcom, several comic books, a parody in a spoof magazine, and who knows what else.”

 

“How do you know all of this, Colonel Hogan?” Klink asked. “Do you have a secret radio that I don’t know about?”

 

“Now Colonel,” Hogan replied smiling, “if we had a radio that you knew about, it would hardly be a secret, would it?”

 

Klink nodded earnestly. “True, true,” he said. “But how do you know all of these things?”

 

“It was easy,” Hogan said. “I read it in the cards.”

 

“Cards?” Klink asked, puzzled. “What cards?”

 

Hogan pointed over to the side of the barracks, where a slender man with a headset on was holding several large white sheets of cardboard with writing on them. “The cue cards.”

 

Everyone looked over at the stage hand. He smiled sheepishly and waved to the cast. Nobody spoke. After a minute, the man held a hand up to one of the ear pieces of his headset, listening intently. Suddenly he nodded, and removed the front card that he was holding.

 

“It’s about bloody time!” Newkirk exclaimed.

 

“You can’t even get good help these days,” Carter said.

 

“So what are you going to do about this, Colonel Hogan?” Klink asked, reading the new cue card.

 

Hogan picked up the comic books from the table and started passing them around. “I don’t know about you Kommandant,” he said, “but I am going to do a little reading while I wait for the next chapter.”

 

Part 2 – The Cue is Silent

 

Colonel Klink put down the last of the comic books and sighed. “So what are we waiting for, Hogan?” he asked.

 

Hogan sipped a cup of coffee while reading the MAD magazine. He shrugged. “I’m not sure,” he said. “It is kind of boring around here right now.”

 

“So what are we waiting for, Hogan?” Klink asked again.

 

Hogan put down his coffee cup and turned around in his chair. “Hey!” he said loudly. “You with the cue cards! Come on, keep up with us. Old Klink here is repeating his lines.”

 

The stage hand with the cue cards smiled apologetically. He looked at his cards, shuffled a few and then held them up for all to see.

 

“That’s better,” Hogan said.

 

Klink sighed. “What is the point of this inane story anyway?” he asked the American Colonel.

 

Hogan shrugged. “You got me,” he said. “The title says something about the revenge of something called a Plot Bunny.”

 

At that moment, the door to the barracks opened and Major Wolfgang Hochstetter entered. “Aha Hogan!” he exclaimed. “I finally have you. I will get my revenge on you now!”

 

Hogan laughed. “Hi Major,” he said. “You want some coffee?”

 

“BAH!” Hochstetter cried. Then he stopped, shaking his head. “Cripes, is that all I ever get to say? Just one time I would like to be able to have a witty and coherent remark.”

 

“Sorry Major,” Hogan said. “Those are reserved for the regulars. As a guest star, you aren’t eligible for anything but stale clichés and catch phrases.”

 

“But I’m a recurring character,” Hochstetter said. “Surely I rate an intelligent line or two every once and a while.”

 

Hogan shook his head. “No, union rules,” he said. “And don’t call me Shirley.”

 

“Aw blimey,” Newkirk exclaimed. “I think this crazy writer has been watching the movie Airplane! again. That’s the second bad joke he’s stolen from it already.”

 

Kinch nodded. “It does seem that way,” he said.

 

Hochstetter cleared his throat loudly. “May I continue please?” he asked. Everyone nodded. Hochstetter began screaming again. “Hogan, I will have my revenge on you this time! Your head will roll!”

 

Hogan looked at Klink and they both chuckled. “Sorry Wolfie,” Hogan remarked. “You misread the title. It doesn’t say The Revenge of Major Hochstetter, it says Plot Bunny.”

 

Hochstetter looked confused. “Really?” he asked tentatively.

 

Hogan pointed to the title at the top of the story. Hochstetter looked and shook his head. “Well I’ll be darned,” he muttered. “It does say that.”

 

“Yea Major, and let me tell you boy, um sir, you don’t look much like a Plot Bunny to me!” Carter said excitedly.

 

“Carter, that’s enough,” Hogan said.

 

“Yes sir,” Carter replied. “Sorry sir.”

 

“Why don’t you take a walk out in the compound,” Hogan said.

 

“Why sir? Is there something out there you want me to spy on for you?” Carter asked eagerly.

 

Hogan shook his head. “No,” he said. “But you’re due to run into the barracks again at the beginning of the next chapter, so you’d better be outside of the barracks. We don’t want to give this writer fellow any excuse to introduce a major plot gaffe into the story.” Carter nodded and headed for the door.

 

“Colonel Hogan, isn’t this whole story just one gigantic plot gaffe?” Klink asked.

 

“Good point,” Hogan replied. “Still, every little bit helps.”

 

“So true,” Klink said, looking at the walls of the barracks. “Hogan, why is it that, with the exception of the first chapter of the last inane story, all the action takes place in this barracks?”

 

“Cheap writer,” Hogan replied. “Also extremely lazy.”

 

“I don’t follow,” Klink replied.

 

“It’s simple really,” Hogan explained. “You see, if we stay here, the scenery doesn’t have to be described. The whole story is just little snippets of action, like the barracks door slamming open and Carter running in breathless.”

 

At that moment, the barracks door slammed open and Carter ran into the room breathless.

 

Hogan looked at the man. “Not yet Carter,” Hogan said showing his dismay. “You’re supposed to do that at the beginning of NEXT chapter.”

 

“But … I … heard …” Carter gasped.

 

“You heard me explaining something to Klink,” Hogan said. “Now get back out there and don’t come in until I tell you to!”

 

“Yes sir,” Carter replied. “Boy, you try to do something right around here, and you get sent outside,” he muttered to himself.

 

“Now where were we?” Hogan asked.

 

“You were explaining why we are stuck in this barracks for the duration of this inane story,” Klink replied.

 

“Oh yes, I remember now,” Hogan said. “You see, if things were to take place in other settings, the writer would have to spend time setting up the scene so that the reader would understand what is going on.”

 

“But Hogan, I’m IN the scene and I don’t even understand what is going on!” Klink said. “How can we expect the poor readers to make heads or tails of this?”

 

Hogan shrugged. “Beats me,” he replied. “I just do what they tell me, say what they tell me and wear what they tell me. And even that last one is pretty confusing at times.”

“What do you mean by that?” Klink asked. “You’re wardrobe can’t be too confusing. You usually just wear that black jacket you have on now.”

 

The barracks door opened and a woman stuck her head into the barracks. “It’s not black, it’s brown!” she exclaimed.

 

“Madam, I assure you,” Hogan said, “that I know the color of my clothes. And my jacket is black.”

 

“No, it is brown,” the woman said again. “It’s always been brown.”

 

Hogan shook his head. “I’ve been wearing this jacket for a long time, and I am telling you it’s …” Hogan was interrupted before he could continue.

 

“Brown,” the woman said. “And if you keep insisting it is black, I just might leave you in that ravine!”

 

“You do raise a good point,” Hogan said. “Like I was saying, my jacket is brown.”

 

The woman smiled. “That’s better,” she said and closed the barracks door.

 

Klink looked at Hogan. “So what are we waiting for, Hogan?” he asked.

 

“Nothing now,” Hogan replied.

 

Klink looked at him with a confused look on his face. “Why not?” he asked.

 

“Because you’re reading the first cue card of this chapter again, so that means that this chapter is over,” Hogan replied.

 

“Thank heavens!” Klink said.

 

Part 3 – Cliffhanger

 

Hogan and Klink were still sitting at the table, talking about how nice it was to have a few scenes without the others in it.

 

“Hey, I resent that remark!” shouted Le Beau.

 

“Right, me too,” agreed Newkirk. “You bloody fool writer better not exclude us too much, if you know what’s good for you.”

 

“Just think how I feel,” Baker said.

 

“Hey Baker, when did you get here?” Le Beau asked.

 

“Just this chapter,” Baker replied. “It’s bad for me because I only appear in parts where Kinch doesn’t.”

 

“Really? I never noticed,” Newkirk said.

 

“Sure,” Baker retorted. “Have you ever seen the two of us together on a mission?” Le Beau and Newkirk both shook their heads. “See, I don’t get to do much.” Then Baker turned to the man behind the screen. “And you, you literary idiot of a writer. Just how DOES one retort? Huh? I didn’t think you knew.”

 

“Baker, calm down,” Le Beau said. “At least he doesn’t have you sighing or muttering or even appearing in strange costumes like General Burkhalter.”

 

Hogan looked over sharply from the table. “Le Beau!” he shouted. “You know better than to mention that man’s name in one of HIS stories!”

 

“Sorry Colonel,” Le Beau said.

 

At that moment, Carter burst through the door and strolled over to the table where Hogan and Klink were sitting. He feigned a few heavy puffs.

 

“Carter, you’re supposed to be out of breath after bursting in here,” Hogan said.

 

“I know, but it hardly seems worth the effort,” Carter replied.

 

Hogan rubbed his eyes and looked at Carter. Then he looked at Klink. “Did you see that?” he asked the German.

 

Klink thought for a moment. “I think so, but I couldn’t be sure,” he replied.

 

Hogan turned back to Carter. “Say something else, Carter,” Hogan requested.

 

Carter looked at the two Colonel’s sitting at the table as if they had lost their mind. After all, he thought, in a story like this one, it’s very plausible.

 

Hogan was impatient. “Carter!” he yelled. “Stop thinking and say something. And besides, you never say plausible so you shouldn’t use it in your thoughts either!”

 

“Oh, sorry Colonel,” Carter said. “What do you want me to say?”

 

Hogan stared at Carter with his mouth agape. Agape? Thought Hogan. When do I ever have my mouth agape?

 

Klink cleared his throat. “Colonel Hogan,” he said. “I suggest that we move on with this scene and not spend too much time with useless thought dialog.”

 

Hogan jolted himself. “I agree Kommandant,” he replied. “But did you notice it that time?”

 

Klink nodded. “Yes, it was very pronounced,” he said.

 

Carter looked puzzled. “What was it?” he asked. When he asked, his mouth moved rapidly for about 30 seconds, but the only thing that emerged was “What was it?” He noticed the confused and worried look on the two men’s faces, but brushed them aside. He started moving his mouth frantically, waving his arms and pointing towards the barracks door. This went on for about a minute.

 

Hogan and Klink watched Carter the whole minute. His mouth moved rapidly the whole time, but the only words that came out were “It’s here. Heading this way. Quick, run!” The words were short and quickly said.

 

Hogan looked at Klink. “I feel as if I am in a horribly bad Japanese monster movie,” he said.

 

When Carter heard that, he started nodding and jumping up and down, frantically waving his arms and moving his mouth.

 

“I think he’s trying to fly,” said Klink.

 

“No, I think he’s the person that first sees the monster, tries to warn the others of the danger, and then flees away never to be seen again for the rest of the movie,” Hogan said.

 

Upon hearing that, Carter stopped jumping up and down and looked at Hogan with a pained expression on his face. He tried to say something, his mouth moving for another 30 seconds. In the middle of this, Hogan heard him say, “Fine, if that’s your attitude.” Carter’s mouth kept moving even after the words were out. Suddenly, Carter stopped moving his mouth, turned and walked dejectedly out the barracks door.

 

Klink turned to Hogan. “I think this is the part where the readers are supposed to feel sorry for him,” he said.

 

“Why should they be?” Hogan asked. “He’s the lucky one! He’s going to get to take a chapter off from this monstrosity of a story.”

 

“Good point,” Klink replied. “But do you think he was trying to warn us about something?”

 

“Sure,” Hogan replied. “I suspect that we’ll find out what it was pretty soon too.”

 

“What makes you say that?” Klink asked.

 

“We’re getting pretty far into this chapter and nothing has happened yet,” Hogan replied. “That means that the writer has to get on the ball and make it happen before the chapter is over.”

 

Klink nodded. “That makes sense,” he said. “I’d forgotten that you went through this before. I didn’t get much of a chance last story.”

 

“Kommandant, I would have gladly traded places with you,” Hogan said. “I sighed too much and then started muttering to myself.”

 

“Sounds dreadful,” Klink responded. “But this is pretty nice though. We haven’t moved from this table since I got here.”

 

“True,” Hogan said. “If we’re going to have to go through this, it’s best to do so sitting down.”

 

Klink cocked his head to one side. “Hogan, did you hear that noise?” he asked.

 

“The one that sounded like a screech?” Hogan asked.

 

Klink nodded. “Yes, yes, that’s the one,” he said.

 

“Sounds like we’re about to find out what Carter was babbling about,” Hogan replied.

 

“Was Carter babbling?” Klink asked. “It looked to me like he was having some sort of seizure.”

 

Before Hogan could reply, the barracks door smashed open, and in walked General Burkhalter. The General was dressed in some sort of white, fuzzy jumpsuit and had to pink ears pasted to his head. He looked around the room with angry eyes. Suddenly, he opened his mouth and emitted a horrendous deafening screech.

 

Hogan and Klink covered their ears. When the sound subsided, Hogan looked at Klink and shouted, “Oh no!”

 

“What is it?” Klink asked.

 

“It’s a cliffhanger,” Hogan replied.

 

Klink pointed at the General. “That thing is a cliffhanger?” he asked.

 

Hogan shook his head. “No, no,” he said. “We won’t find out what that thing is until the next chapter. This one is going to end now, so as to provide the illusion of suspense for the readers.”

 

“Oh, I see,” Klink said. “So this chapter is going to end right here, and we’ll have to sit here and wait until the next chapter to find out what’s going to happen.”

 

Hogan nodded. “Yes, that’s it,” he said. “But first, we’ll have to listen to the dramatic announcer.”

 

“The dramatic announcer?” Klink asked. “We have one of those?”

 

“No,” Hogan replied. “We’ve borrowed him from the Batman set just for this chapter.”

 

“Oh,” Klink said. Both he and Hogan turned and looked at the screen, trying their best to keep a controlled look of fear on their faces. Neither succeeded.

 

Will our Heroes be alright? Can they survive the terror that awaits them? Will they succumb to the utter uselessness of this story? Tune in next time, same bat-time, same bat-channel to find out!

 

“Are you batty?” cried Newkirk from the sidelines. “We don’t have bat-times or bat-channels, we’re in a German POW camp!”

 

Well, you know what I mean.

 

“Yes I do,” Newkirk countered. “But it sounds stupid to say that in this setting!”

 

Well that’s too bloody bad!

 

“Hey Newkirk, he sounds like you!” Le Beau said laughing.

 

“Shut up Cockroach,” Newkirk said.

 

Part 4 – Thanks, I Needed That

 

Hogan and Klink were still staring at the screen. Both men were showing the strain of trying to remain motionless with the same facial expression.

 

Finally, Hogan took a deep breath. “Whew,” he gasped. “I’m glad that was over. If we would have had to do that any longer, I think my face would have frozen that way.”

 

“Mine has,” Klink said through clenched teeth.

 

Hogan looked over at Klink. He still had the same expression on his face. “Snap out of it, Kommandant!” Hogan said. He reached over and slapped the German across the face a couple of times.

 

Klink shook his head, reeling a little from the slaps. “Thanks, I needed that,” he said.

 

Both men looked at General Burkhalter, who was still by the door. Occasionally, the General would open his mouth and emit his horrendous screech.

 

“What do you suppose he is supposed to be?” Klink asked.

 

“I’m not sure,” Hogan said. “I’m just glad that he got that part instead of me.”

 

General Burkhalter stopped and looked at Hogan. “Do you think I enjoy being in these stories?” he asked. “So far, I’ve had my bath interrupted – twice – and had to wear a stupid blonde wig and sing soprano. Do you know what they had to do to make me sing that high?”

 

Both Hogan and Klink held up their hands. “I’d rather we not go into that,” Hogan said.

 

“And now this silly writer has me doing this,” Burkhalter continued. “It’s humiliating.”

 

“I’m sure it is,” said Klink. “You look ridiculous.”

 

“Of course I do,” Burkhalter replied. “Look at you, you get to wear your uniform and Hogan gets to wear his black jacket.”

 

“It’s brown!” Both Klink and Hogan said the words simultaneously.

 

“Black, brown, whatever,” Burkhalter said dismissively. “The point is, you two get to wear your normal clothes.”

 

“But what exactly are you supposed to be?” asked Klink

 

“No time to explain,” Burkhalter said. “I have to get back into character before the writer has me doing a soft-shoe routine with a cartoon character or something.” With that, Burkhalter resumed looking around. He opened his mouth and let out another horrendous screech.

 

“So we still don’t know what this is,” Klink said.

 

“I believe I can help you, Kommandant,” said Kinch, who was sitting on one of the bunks.

 

“Kinch, welcome back,” Hogan said. “Where were you?”

 

“I was prowling around the writer’s brain for a chapter, trying to figure out what the plot of this story is supposed to be,” Kinch replied.

 

“Sounds like a nasty undertaking,” Klink said.

 

Kinch nodded. “Yes,” he said. “Actually, there wasn’t much in there. There were a lot of empty rooms that lead nowhere. The deeper I got into things, the more I got lost. I had a hard time finding my way out of that deserted structure.”

 

“Did you find anything out?” Hogan asked.

 

“Yes, I think I did,” Kinch replied. “The General here is a big Plot Bunny. Actually, he’s more of a cross between a Plot Bunny and Godzilla.”

 

“Plotzilla?” Hogan asked speculatively.

 

Kinch shook his head. “No, I believe the author is referring to him as the Plot Burky,” he said.

 

Both Klink and Hogan stared at Kinch with their mouths hanging open. “You have GOT to be kidding me,” Hogan said.

 

“No, but you have to remember who we are dealing with here,” Kinch said. “This writer’s creativity could fit on the head of a pin.”

 

Klink sneered and said, “I’d like to take that pin and poke him in the …”

 

“Colonel Klink!” Hogan shouted. “Remember, this is a family story!”

 

“Sorry, I got carried away for a second,” Klink said. “Still, it’s a very pleasant thought.”

 

Hogan smiled. “Yes it is, and maybe we can follow through on that during one of the chapter breaks,” he said. “But now we should let Kinch finish.”

 

“Well, it seems that the Plot Burky is here to terrorize the writers so that they won’t finish their fan fiction stories.”

 

“That’s terrible,” Klink said. “If he succeeds, our fandom will be doomed.”

 

With those words, Hogan flinched and looked around the barracks. Not hearing any dramatic music, he relaxed. “Whew, at least we don’t have sound effects in this story.”

 

“So what are we going to do, Colonel,” Kinch asked.

 

Before Hogan could answer, the barracks door opened and a short, stock man with a crew cut and clean uniform walked into the room.

 

“Alright you knuckleheads,” the man yelled. “Everybody fall out. Come on, move it, move it, move it!” When nobody moved, the man yelled louder. “I said fall out! Are you all going to get moving?”

 

“No,” Le Beau responded. He was sitting beside Kinch on one of the bunks. Newkirk was sitting on another bunk nearby.

 

“What?” the man yelled again. “I can’t hear you!”

 

“NO!” the men yelled back.

 

“Excuse me, but who are you?” Hogan asked.

 

The man looked over at Hogan. Seeing that he was a Colonel, he snapped to attention and saluted. “Sergeant Vince Carter reporting for duty, sir!” he said.

 

Hogan let his head fall to the table. He rolled it from side to side muttering “Why me?”

 

“But what are you doing here?” Klink asked.

 

“I’m here as a replacement for Sergeant Andrew Carter,” Carter said. “The writer thought that since he was taking this chapter off, there should still be a Sergeant Carter in the story.”

 

“I see,” Klink said calmly. “Colonel Hogan, are these stories always like this?”

 

“Yes they are,” Hogan responded, his head still down on the table.

 

“Then I’m very glad I missed most of the last one,” Klink said.

 

“Excuse me,” Carter said. “But is this going to take long? I’ve got to take my girlfriend Bunny out tonight.”

 

A collective groan escaped from the men sitting on the bunks.

 

Carter looked at them. “Did I say something wrong?” he asked.

 

“No,” Kinch replied. “It’s not your fault. You only say what that fool writer tells you to.”

 

“Well, now that I’m here, what do I do?” Carter asked.

 

Newkirk pointed to a nearby bunk. “Have a seat,” he said. “We’re pretty much on the sidelines for this story. The officers get to have the fun this time.” Carter headed to the bunk and sat down.

 

“So Hogan,” Klink said. “What do we do about this Plot Burky thingy?”

 

“The best way to fight fire is with fire,” Hogan said.

 

“I thought it was with water, Colonel,” Carter replied.

 

Hogan looked over at Carter on the bunk. Carter shrugged. “Was that something that your Sergeant Carter would say?”

 

“Unfortunately, it was,” Hogan replied. “But anyway, what I meant is that we have to beat this writer at his own game.”

 

“You mean we have to write a totally inane story featuring the writer?” Klink asked.

 

“No, I will not sink to his level,” Hogan replied. “Kinch, get on the internet. Tell SmartGroups that we need to have the Hogan’s Heroes Fan Fiction Writer Airborne Division sent over to this story right away.”

 

“But Colonel, isn’t our writer part of that group?” Le Beau asked.

 

“Yes he is,” Hogan replied. “But he’ll be outnumbered and if we can get that musician to come along with her oboe, I think he’ll be on his best behavior.”

 

“Bloody right,” Newkirk said. “You saw what happened at the end of the last story. Have you noticed that the dog hasn’t appeared in this one?”

 

“Alright Kinch,” Hogan said. “Get to it. I want those writers here for the next chapter.”

 

Part 5 – So Long, and Thanks for all the Plots

 

Everyone had moved outside of the barracks and were standing around looking at the compound.

 

“Well this is a nice change of pace,” Klink said.

 

“Yes, but even our writer couldn’t justify having the paratroopers land inside the barracks,” Hogan replied.

 

“There may be some hope for him yet,” Klink said.

 

“I wouldn’t count on that,” Hogan responded.

 

They were watching the Plot Burky stomp around the camp. Occasionally, he would stop stomping and let out his horrendous screech. As he stomped, he was dropping sheets of paper all around the compound.

 

“What are those?” Le Beau asked.

 

“Those are little plot bunnies,” Kinch replied. “He’s dropping them around so that they distract the other writers so that they can’t finish their stories.”

 

“The airborne troops better arrive soon, or else we will be stuck in this story forever,” Hogan said.

 

Kinch shook his head. “No Colonel,” he said. “When I was trapped in that empty wasteland, I found some more useful information.”

 

“That must have been hard to do,” Newkirk said.

 

“Not really,” Kinch replied. “Since there was so little useful information in there, this bit stuck out like a sore thumb.”

 

“Well?” Hogan asked.

 

“This story is only going to be 5 chapters long,” Kinch said. “We’re in chapter 5 now.”

 

Hogan smiled. “Good,” he said. “That should mean that the troops should be here right about now.”

 

Suddenly they heard a plane flying overhead.

 

A short man in a white suit came running by. “De plane, de plane,” he yelled. The men just stared at him as he ran by shouting. Then they looked at each other, speechless.

 

Within minutes, the airborne troops started dropping into the camp. Each of them was carrying a bundled set of paper in their hands.

 

“Look, over there,” Newkirk said pointing. “That’s our idiot writer.”

 

“Yes, and look beside him,” Le Beau said. “It’s the musician carrying her oboe, and other oboe carrier on the other side. I don’t think we’ll have any trouble from him this time.”

 

“Let’s hope not,” Hogan said.

 

“Why is he here?” Le Beau asked. “He’s supposed to be working on this story at the moment.”

 

“If so, then what’s that he’s carrying?” Newkirk asked.

 

“That’s his story that is being beta read at the moment,” Kinch replied.

 

“Oh, so that’s why we had to go through another one of these stories,” Le Beau said.

 

“Yes, too much time on his hands,” Hogan replied.

 

Klink pointed to the other side of the compound. “There’s the one that corrected us on the color of your jacket.”

 

“I see,” Hogan said. “And look at those two over there. They look pretty confident.”

 

“Yes,” Klink replied. “It’s almost as if they think this is some sort of game.”

 

Carter was pointing to the far side of the compound. “Look in the sky above that one,” he said.

 

Hogan looked around. “Carter? Welcome back,” he said. “Yes, looks like there’s some flak in the air.”

 

“There’s a whole bunch more over there Colonel,” Kinch said pointing.

 

Hogan looked. “It looks like they sent the whole bunch out to help us,” he said. “That one even has three bundles in her hands.”

 

“Must be a trilogy,” Klink said.

 

“So just what are those things they are carrying?” Le Beau asked.

 

“They are the completed stories,” Kinch replied. “From what I gathered of the plot of this, those completed stories will drive away the evil Plot Burky.”

 

“I wonder if this means that I will finally get out of that ravine,” Hogan said.

 

“I wouldn’t doubt if that will happen some day soon,” Klink said. “But first they have to take care of this little problem.”

 

“What are they doing?” Carter asked.

 

“It looks like they are driving him towards the swamp with those completed stories,” Hogan replied.

 

“We have a swamp?” Carter asked. “I never noticed a swamp in camp before.”

 

“Sure, it’s over by the well,” Newkirk said. “You didn’t notice it because you were busy climbing in the well wearing just your underwear.”

 

“Don’t remind me,” Carter responded.

 

“Look, the plan is working!” Kinch exclaimed.

 

The men watched the writers wave their completed stories at the Plot Burky. It waved its arms, trying to shield its face from the waving prose. It backed away from the large group in terror.

 

“There it goes,” Hogan said as the Plot Burky reached the edge of the swamp. He raised his hand and started to wave at the creature as it stepped slowly into the swamp, disappearing from sight.

 

The rest of the men gathered around also began waving.

 

Hogan looked over at the edge of the compound. He saw a tall man in a white suit standing there. Beside him was the very short man that yelled when the plane arrived. Both of them were also waving at the Plot Burky.

 

Once the Plot Burky disappeared into the swamp, the airborne troops began to disperse. They all waved as they disappeared into the woods outside of camp. The sun was setting over the treetops to the west.

 

“Well, I guess that takes care of that,” Hogan said. “Now maybe we can get back to some normalcy around here.”

 

Everyone breathed a huge sigh of relief and started into the barracks. Carter headed for his bunk, looking underneath it.

 

“What are you doing Carter?” Hogan asked.

 

“I’m going to take my bunny out tonight,” Carter replied.

 

Everyone started laughing. Carter looked around at everyone confused.

 

“What did I say that was so funny?” he asked.

 

“Nothing Carter,” Newkirk said. “You weren’t in that chapter of the story!”