On May 5, 2013, a nonny began a thread called Fandom AU's you want to read/see.

B[r]ought to you by the the fact a Asterix WW2 AU with Asterix, Obelix and the rest of the village of indomitable Gauls as a badass resistance stronghold holding off against 4 nazi camps at once would be awesome as hell.

Another nonny obliged.

Lord Major Commander Admiral Mister Vitalstatistix (real name unknown though he insisted it was Abraracourcix, real title unknown) was blathering on again. He stood atop the jeep back, impressive paunch hanging over the edge of his pants. His two Jeep Drivers were miserably hunched over the wheel, as he stood on their shoulders.

Gathered around him, were the last remnants of a proud country now subjugated under the fist of Adolf Hitler, the German. Their tiny village was surrounded by four camps of Nazi's.

“Now Men, I have gathered you together today to let you know that the camps surrounding us are having a personnel transfer.”

Heads everywhere suddenly turned around, stopping the traditional fish-fight. The tallest, big-boned'iest of them all spoke up hopefully, “Really? We get to thump some Nazi's?”

The small dog next to him barked hopefully, tail wagging. Slow smiles spread across the gathered villagers. The wanna-be song-composer shredded his out of tune electric guitar. “Then in preparation, shall I compose a song?”

He was thoroughly knocked out, tied up, and left behind. It would do no good to warn their potential victims to their plans- or heavens forbid, slow them down from the resulting storm!

There was a clang, as the single doctor came strolling out of his home. In his hands was a crate of bubbling green liquids contained in clear glass bottles. Nobody knew what exactly were in those bottles- the current betting pool ranged from steroids to sacrificial blood of the wild boar that Obelix liked to stroll out and hunt bare-handed. Everyone agreed not to pry too deeply. Panoramix, or Getafix as a few of the villagers had nicknamed him, was not one to cross. Besides, everyone had seen what had happened to Obelix when he fell into the cauldron (and who used cauldron's in this day and age anyways?) and drank all of that liquid- broken bones were forever common after that. And so were the broken tanks that made up the wall around the village.

“Gather around.” Getafix called, holding out the vials.

A young man, his bomber jacket embroidered with two wings stepped up first. He grinned at Getafix, his blond hair peeking out beneath the battered beret. “Yo.”

“Ahh, Asterix, will you be flying today?” Getafix gestured to the small airplane waiting faithfully for its owner. Asterix nodded.

“An Obelix bomb, right in the center of the first camp.” Asterix cackled evilly, as Vitalstatistix began throwing a temper tantrum that he would not be the first to hit some Nazis.