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Torg: Tonight we're gonna party like it's 1999.... Zoë: Please stop! I have the feeling I'm going to be so sick of that song by 2000! Torg: It's been quite a year hasn't it? Zoë: Yeah. A little to overloaded with demons and campires for my taste, and that's just in the White House! Torg: Here's to a happy 1999. Zoë: Cheers! Bun-Bun: You guys are the best! Torg: 1999, the year of the inebriated bunny. Riff: It was a full bottle of 151 rum! It couldn't have just vanished. Is this going to happen every damn year? Bun-Bun: hic Gwynn: Happy New Year, Riff! Riff: The beard didn't fool ya, huh. Could we avoid violence this time? Gwynn: Do you realize it was a year ago today you asked me out... Oh, I'm just being nostalgic. Anyway, I'm seeing someone else, so let's part friends. Gwynn: Are you ok? You don't look so hot. Riff: I think I might be getting a fever. I'm hot and it feels like my head is gonna explode. Maybe I should lie down. Zoë: Gwynn, that Riff-voodoo-doll is in the microwave. Can I take it out to heat up some pizza-rolls? Gwynn: One more minute. Lara Kroft-Macaroni-And-Cheese: I got that wand for yer. Now where is that Smiffsonian Museum piece I 'ad me eye on? Anon: First I must make sure this works. Once I test this on one of my enemies, the deal can proceed. Follow the instructions on this card to get in touch with me. Lara Kroft-Macaroni-And-Cheese: 'oo's 'illary, and why do I 'ave ter wait until she is out of tahn? Anon: Your naiveté is so heart-warming! Bring a girlfriend, and wear that outfit! Riff: Kiki, come on. We're going home. Kiki: Hiya! Torg: Drank to excess again? Bad bunny! Bun-Bun: hic Zoë: Thanks for having us over, Gwynn! Happy New Year! Gwynn: Wait! You guys can't leave until you meet my new boyfriend! Gwynn: Berk, this is Torg. Torg: Hello, Berk. Berk: Hi, cupcake! And this must be Riff. Heard a lot about you! Riff: Only good things, I hope! Berk: Afraid not, Obi Wan! No, the words she used to describe you ain't back-o-the cereal box material, bucky. Berk: They're the kind of words your mama would wash your mouth out with goop for saying. Berk: Words that jump in the think of it without bothering to check for civies in the way! Berk: Party words! Berk: Words that.... Riff: Could we move this conversation along, please? Berk: Let's boogie, babe! This group is stompin' all over my good time. Gwynn: giggle! Berk: You were right about that Zoë-dame! She looks about as sharp as whoever dressed her. Zoë: What a @#%& jerk! Torg: Major jerk. Riff: Whew! For a minute there, I thought my desire to beat him repeatedly with a large blunt object was jealousy! Kiki: I think he's neat! What language was he speaking? Bun-Bun: Ibrupoffen... Iburpopen... I need Ibuprofen... Riff: Hey! What's up? Torg: Oh, I'm opening some of the Christmas gifts I never had a chance to open. Torg: Check out this inspirational calendar my cousin sent me! Riff: January... "Motivation", and it has a picture of an alligator eating a guy! Torg: Well, I feel motivated! Riff: Here's one for success. Hey, it's the same alligator picture! They reused the same picture for each month! Torg: I think that says a lot about success! Riff: I think it says more about your cousin's gift-budget. Hey, "relationships"! That one works! Torg: A Christmas gift for you, m'lady! My humble apologies for its tardiness. Zoë: Thank you, Torg! Zoë: It's a porcelain statue of a dead chihuahua. Torg: No, it's a taco holder! You rest him on his back and his legs keep your taco upright! Torg: And when you push his nose... Anon: Ay! The ground beef, she is burning my groin! Zoë: I'll have to file this one with the Suzanne Somners Armpit Master you got me for my birthday. Torg: This is the coolest thing ever! Poke his nose! Poke his nose! Anon: Dear Crapnet customer, you have overused your unlimited hours for the month. If you persist in doing this, we will have to increase your rate from $1995 a month to $149.95 a month, our rate for a dedicated line. Anon: We define "unlimited" to mean less than an average of 5 hours a day, which is more time than any normal person with a real life can use the internet. You must be a jobless freak. Please forward any questions or comments to: The-Bottomless-Void@crapnet.not Torg: Dear Crapnet, I'm writing this letter to inform you that I define "$19.95 a month" to mean "kiss my ass!" - Torg Torg: Aylee, we need a new ISP. I canceled our account with Crapnet. Aylee: We can't afford the startup fee for a new ISP! We don't even have the 20 a month to maintain one! At least not yet! Heh heh! Torg: What? But we have plenty of money, right? Aylee: Well, you haven't been working for the last month while you were in that pyramid. Torg: But I haven't been around to spend any money, so where did all the... hey! Glamgore? Ocular Mechanics? Sports Insinuated? Where did all these magazines come from? Aylee: Don't thank me now, but you are definitely most likely possibly a millionaire! Torg: The Clearing Publishers House sweepstakes. Aylee: They say you don't have to buy anything, but I know the deal! I ordered 50 subscriptions for each! Torg: Aylee! Where are all my clients? Aylee: I removed them from your contact list at their request. Aylee: Did you eat another client? Aylee: No! No... no. Aylee: I just gnawed on one a bit! I guess news travels fast. Aylee: Don't worry, his leg will grow back! Zoë: Riff, you know how Torg just lost all his money, his clients, and his internet connection? Well, he snapped and became "Jungle Torgo" again. Riff: Don't worry. He'll snap out of it over time. Torg: Torgo of Jungle swing from tree to tree! Ooooh oouh. Zoë: For future reference, I really should take down my christmas tree on time next year. Riff: And here we see the East American Jungle Torgo. Riff: A rare but mighty bred, we can learn much from his life and environment. Riff: When he needs food, the Torgo knows where the best foraging is. In fact, without any watering holes near by, fresh game is scarce, and if not for the Torgo's powerful instincts, he would surely starve. Riff: And what's this? Mating season for the Jungle Torgo! He has procured a bunch of wild vase-flowers, no doubt a gift for his future mate! Torg: Oo? Riff: And a mate is found. She seems uninterested at first. Perhaps the flowers will soften her resolve? Torg: Wuuh-mon. Riff: Ah, the flowers were but a ruse and a snack. The Torgo is ready to poince... Riff: Whoah, that's gotta hurt! Looks like the only thing mating today is Zoë's knuckles and Torgo's intestines! Zoë: Enough of the video taping, Riff! Snap him out of this! Riff: All right, all right! I'll try. I just wanted something for posterity. Riff: Here Torgo! Beer! Beer! Torg: Uho ooh ouh! Ber-ber! Uoo! Torg: Ugh! Oouh-arrh eeeeeeee eeeee eeeeee! Riff: No, Torgo! No clunk-clunk! Bad Torgo! Use your opposable thumbs! Torg: Oo? Riff: Yes! Twist! Torg: God, my life sucks. Torg: Riff, why do my intestines hurt? Riff: Because you just shook up a beer and guzzled it down without belching. Berk: Hey, girly-girl! Go get Gwynn for me, unless you want this call to be, heh, three-way! Heh-heh! Zoë: What? Who is this? Berk: I said, why dontcha get my girl ont he line, and shake-a-tail, chicky! Zoë: Berk? Is that you? Listen to me, Gwynn has her own extension. You call her directly. I'm not her answering machine! Berk: Don't bug me with the numeros, babe, except numero uno and that's me! Go get my woman before I paddle your butt. Zoë: Could you... repeat that... in... five... seconds... Dr. Lorna: Aw, Scott has hung up! I knew he was a spineless enabler and a pervert, but I didn't think he would cry like a widdle baby! Our next caller is Berk. Hi, Berk! A penny for your thoughtlessness! Berk: I said, do the deed or pay the buttsequences! Heh-heh! Gwynn: Hi, Zoë! Zoë: Gwynn, I've got to talk to you about this "Berk" guy. Zoë: He gives me the creeps. Do you really like him, or are you just trying to make Riff jealous? Gwynn: That's not it! Berk is great. Sure, he might seem a bit off, but he's got it where it counts! Gwynn: He cooks! Zoë: If you don't care about Riff, why did I just see you throw that Riff-voodoo-doll into that drawer? You don't really believe in that voodoo stuff, do you? Torg: Riff, just because you're losing at Tekken 3, that's no reason to jump into my desk drawer! Riff: I'm have the weirdest day! Zoë: Dr. Lorna, I'm worried about Gwynn! She's been acting really odd! Dr. Lorna: Zoë, you know I like you, so don't force me to show you what a terrible person you really are inside. Zoë: Don't turn this around on me! This isn't about me! I'm really worried about... Dr. Lorna: "I'm really worried that people like Gwynn better because she's prettier than me!" No need to go on, I know exactly what you're trying to do. Zoë: Listen... to... me! Gwynn... in... trouble... needs... help! Dr. Lorna: "Me... Zoë... Me... think... world... revolve... around... me!" Zoë: Argh! Dr. Lorna: I should have been tougher on her. I guess I just have a soft spot for friends. Gwynn: Riff will die, and his soul will be mine! Zoë: Can I have my flashlight back? And what did you say? Gwynn: Oh, I was saying how Riff will die and his soul will be mine. Zoë: Gwynn, you're scaring me. What's happened to you? Gwynn: Zoë, do you believe in magic? Zoë: Well, being as we've been floating a few feet off the ground, the answer "no" would seem insincere. Berk: See ya, babe, I'm off to save the world! Zoë: Gwynn, where is Berk going with that shotgun? Gwynn: Oh, hi Zoë! Thanks for coming by! Zoë: And when did you go goth? Gwynn: I wanted to explain to you what's going on, and it has nothing to do with my hatred of Riff. Zoë: And where is Berk going with that shotgun!?! Gwynn: To shoot something or somebody, obviously! God, Zoë, it's like we're having two separate conversations here! Zoë: Riff! Riff! Get out fo the apartment! Berk is coming to kill you! Zoë: Damn! Nothing but whiny statis! What did you do to the phone, Gwynn? Gwynn: I'm online! Zoë: Are you saying you didn't send Berk to shoot Riff? Gwynn: He went skeet shooting with some friends. Zoë: Oh... god! I'm sorry, Gwynn! I don't know what got into me... Gwynn: So, wanna sell your soul to the devil like I did? Torg: Fine, I'll go out in this blizzard and pick you up some alfalfa hay. Just stop staring at me like that. Bun-Bun: Ha! My subtle machinations go unnoticed, as Torg becomes my pawn! The test is successful, and now I can continue with master plan! Kiki: Ooooh! What are you playing? There's a little Riff, and a little Zoë, and a little Torg... Kiki: Why is the little me at the bottom of the fish tank? Bun-Bun: I'm working on it. Zoë: You sold your soul? Gwynn: Naw, that's just an expression. I found this book that has changed my life! Look at the power I've gotten! Gwynn: I never used to believe in witches, and now I am one! Zoë: How... how? Zoë: Gwynn, this is impossible! You don't just become a witch! There is no book that just "gives" you these powers! Gwynn: It doesn't grant powers to just anyone, Zoë! It never granted them to Riff! Zoë: Riff? Gwynn: It used to be his book. He was throwing it out with a bunch of other junk to make more room for his workshop. Zoë: This book is titled "The Book of E-Ville". You got your powers from a book of evil! Gwynn: "E-Ville", not "evil"! It's probably a town, like Denville or Belleville. Zoë: Yeah, a town in hell! Gwynn: This power is so invigorating! It's the most incredible thing that has ever happened to me in my entire life! Gwynn: And you calling it evil is starting to piss me off! Gwynn: Don't do that! Zoë: What are these? Gwynn: Oh, I'm sending out junk-mail in my spare time. Sending out junk-mail and pre-approved credit cards are part of the price I must pay for my power... Gwynn: Ok, so it's a teeny bit evil. Who isn't? Torg: Why is it I get buried under too much work, and the the work all dries up so I have to scramble like mad to make enough money to eat? I don't know what stresses me out more! Aylee: Maybe the work all dried up because... Torg: It's a rhetorical question, Aylee! You aren't supposed to answer rhetorical questions! Aylee: Sorry. Torg: Now, I need to find some clients. Aylee, what's the number for that placement service that contacted us last week? Torg: Answer that one! Aylee: I'm on break. Torg: Yes, I'd be happy to work on your site! Torg: My rate? Forty an hour. Torg: No, not fourteen, forty. Torg: Forty! Torg: Forty and hour! Torg: Ok, count all your fingers and toes. Forty is more than that. Torg: Hello? Torg: What!?! Aylee: On that subject, I ordered the four hundred Zip disks, or was that fourteen hundred? Torg: Four! Four Zip disks! Torg: Aylee, this is totally unacceptable! How am I supposed to get any work done if my mouse is all messed up! Aylee: What about the back-up mice you bought? Torg: They're all in the same condition! Aylee: Is it a virus? Torg: No, the ball inside the mouse is dirty. I told you to clean it! Aylee: I don't know how! Torg: Call freakin' tech-support! Can't you see I'm busy? Aylee: Listen, I just do secretary work! If you've got dirty balls, you wash them! Aylee: Hello? Tech suppport? My boss has dirty mouse balls. What should we do? Aylee: They said to dip your balls in alcohol and wipe them gently. Aylee: Ha ha! Hee hee ho ho Torg: Ha ha! Hee hee ho ho Torg: Heh, heh, *snort* Thanks for cheering me up Aylee. I'm sorry I've been so crabby lately. Aylee: No problem, boss! What were we laughing at? Torg: Berk what are you doing here? Berk: I was in the locality and saw your window open, so I figured I'd drop in for a pow-wow, cupcake. Torg: Berk, I'm in a really bad mood right now, so why don't you get out of here. And stop calling me cupcake! My name is Torg! Berk: Hey, easy on the estrogen levels, Sally. I'll vacate just as soon as you take a dirt nap. Torg: All right! All right! Call me cupcake! Berk: You seem swell, cupcake, but your grandkids will thank me for giving you a buckshot facial. Berk: Hmm... Not that you're gonna have grandkids. Not unless you already have a child... Torg: Tell you waht. What if we go cruisin' so I can find a nice girl, settle down and have a kid? Then the kid can eventually have a child who will thank you for killing me. Berk: Berk only falls for the same trick once, baby. Torg: You ever fall for the "I talk and distract you while an alien sneaks up behind you and eats you" trick? Berk: Not yet. Why? Berk: Ooouff! Zoë: What do you mean mom? I don't hear anything! ........Oh, that? That's just the washing machines in the laundry room banging around. Zoë: Yeah, it does kinda sound like someone screaming "help, get it off me." My god! Maybe the neighbor kid got stuck in one again! I better go check! Bye! Call you next week!!!... Zoë: Living next to a violent carnivorous alien can have its advantages. Berk: Good going, Berky-boy! That wasn't the fat-cat and you've played your lone trump card too early in the game. Kiki: He played cards with Donald Trump for a cat! That's what I think he said! What do you think he said, Bun-Bun? Bun-Bun: Don't waste my time with your silly games, Kiki. This "Berk" seems like a deranged unfocused killing machine. A perfect pawn! Kiki: Oooh! Can I play your sill game? Bun-Bun: How about we play a silly game of bullet tag? Riff: So, then Berk zaps Aylee, dives out the window and runs off. Torg: He was throwing kicks like Jackie Chan! What do you think he's done to her? Riff: Not sure. It wasn't a freeze-ray, she's not cold. I don't know if she is still alive. I'm not sure how to check her vitals. Torg: She isn't dead! Torg: And she's definitely not a coat-rack! Riff: All right! Jeez! Calm down! Torg: And use a coaster! Riff: What do we do about Berk? Zoë: Go to the police? Torg: And press charges for him freezing my alien? What's the penalty for that? Riff: I'm more concerned with that psychopath being alone with Gwynn! Zoë: Oh, speaking of Gwynn, I forgot to tell you! Gwynn's become some kind of witch who's trying to put a curse on you! Zoë: She's using a book she got from your trash. Riff: Not "The Book of E-Ville"?!? Torg: The demon book? Zoë: That's the one! Torg: A frozen alien, a psycho out to kill me, and a witch trying to curse you with the help of demons. Zoë: And my mom keeps calling. What a day. Riff: Nice recap, people! Zoë: Gwynn's line is still busy. Riff: You guys stay here, I'm going to check it out. Torg: Be careful, Riff! Berk is pretty tough! Riff: Don't worry. If Berk shows up, he's going to get a taste of my Omnitaser-Supreme! Riff: Hmmmm. That wasn't supposed to happen. Zoë: Here, try using a normal taser. Zoë: Your mom keeps them around the office for when she loses arguments. Riff: So that's why my memory goes black after that pony discussion in kindergarten! Berk: Sorry, babe! This hurts me more than it does you, not counting your neck. Gwynn: Gak! Gak!!! Riff: Sorry "babe"! But my Omnitaser-Supreme will hurt you even more! Riff: Wow! A little wide on the range. I'd check my notes but I think they melted. Gwynn: Riff, you have to turn around! I was in the middle of a delicate spell casting when Berk interrupted! Riff: No way, not with that psychopath back there waiting to kill you! Speaking of which, you don't seemed bothered at all that your boyfriend tried to shoot Torg and strangle you! Gwynn: I'm more concerned about the spell! If I don't finish it, terrible things could befall the world! Riff: What's this all-important spell do? Gwynn: Well... um... it causes terrible things to befall you. Riff: *sigh* Gwynn: Look, Riff, I'm sorry, I don't know what's gotten into me the last few weeks. Thank you for saving my life, but I have got to finish the spell or millions may suffer unheard of tortures! Riff: As opposed to me suffering unheard tortures. Gwynn: It's always about you! Torg: I've figured it out! Berk is from a dark and terrible future! He's a time traveler! Zoë: What? Have you been drinking the sour milk again? Torg: He dropped this hat while fighting Aylee! Read what's on it! Zoë: "Celebrating the twenty fifth anniversary of Felicity." Torg: See! "Felicity" is only in its first season, so this must be from the future! Zoë: How do you know it's from a "terrible and dark" future? Torg: Twenty five years of "Felicity"? Hello? Zoë: I like that show! And I thought you had a crush on the pink ranger. Torg: Ok, what about this campaign button he dropped? "I'm stupid, breat me some more, and reelect President Lorna in 2024" Zoë: Oh, dear lord! Anon: Begin transmission... Berk: Mission report: Despite the cupcake fiasco, I have located the big nasty ground zero. Berk: This ain't "light a candle: make him love me," witchcraft! This is pure soul-sucking evil, baby! And believe me, it sucks. Berk: But the book's been snagged, and the "big whoops" neutralized. Mission accomplished. Berk: Holy crapoly. Zoë: Riff, you're just going to let Gwynn finish her spell, even though you know you're the target of it? Riff: She's got to finishe spell for some dumb reason. She said she'd redirect it towards Berk anyway, being as he tried to kill her and all. Zoë: What a soap opera! Doesn't she need the Book of E-Ville to cast the spell? Riff: She said she can wing the end-part. Now, you guys say Berk is from the future? Torg: That's what it looks like. Maybe it's like "Terminator." He's come from the future to alter the future. Riff: Or maybe he's here to alter the present to keep it from... K'Z'K: From destroying the future? K'Z'K: That's my job! K'Z'K: Raarrrrrhahahahaha! K'Z'K: RifRiffRiffyRifffR Torg: You dated that? Riff: She has a great personality. Zoë: See you guys when your survival instincts kick in! K'Z'K: Riffy? Oh Riffy? It's your darling Gwynn! Where are you? K'Z'K: Show yourself so I can masticate your heart and devour your soul! K'Z'K: Grrrrrrrrr Riff: I know I shouldn't laugh, but of all the people to possess, this demon has to pick someone who's blind as a bat without her glasses! Torg: Wow, that Mir space station is coming along nicely! Riff: You remember when we summoned that demon for twenty bucks and a case of beer? Torg: Yeah? Zoë: You did what?!? Riff: The demon would become free by the Book of E-Ville if it paid the price. Well, I'm thinking that Gwynn made the same deal with another demon, and I'm the price. Zoë: You summoned a demon for beer!?! Torg: The liquor store was closed. So the demon kills you, the demon gets to go free, and Gwynn is saved? Riff: If that demon gets loose, "safe" isn't a word I'd use for anybody! We need more information about what's going on. That means we need to get Berk, and that book. Torg: But Berk's a kung-fu maniac from the future and he wants me dead! Zoë: Why don't you just summon a demon to get Berk and the book for you! Riff: DOn't be silly. We can't summon the demon to get the book if we need the book to summon the demon in the first place! Torg: Yeah, duh, Zoë! Torg: I don't want to be Berk-bait! Riff: You're the only one he wants dead at the moment! Don't worry! The second he shows up, I'll nail him with the Omnitaser-Supreme. Torg: It's Berk! It's-Berk! Hithimwiththetacosupreme! Hurry Hit.... Torg: Or just run for your life. Berk: Get back here! Or are you yella? I'm gonna make Riff-cheese outta ya! And drop the spark-plug! Torg: Hey! Berk isn't out to kill me anymore! Now if only somebody could help me down... Bun-Bun: ...and if you break open the nerd-yata, candy comes out! Kiki: Really? Ooooh! Riff: Wow! What the hell happened to me? Torg: Your Omnitaser-Supreme went buggy again. It zapped you, Berk, everybody within a block radius. Torg: I was worried for a little while, hanging from that branch with no one to untie me. The good news is I was able to secure the incapacitated Berk. Now maybe we can get some answers. Riff: What happened to you? And how did you get down? Torg: Bun-Bun tricked Kiki into thinking I was a piñata. Kiki: Bun-Bun didn't trick me! He said if I hit you with that stick, candy would come and he was right! Torg: I had a Tic-Tac in my mouth! Riff: All right Berk, we know you're from the future. I want to know how you managed to time travel. This device you have appears to be of an advanced alloy and powered by a micro-reactor, although the fuel... Berk: Easy on the fancy book-learnin'. You're scaring the ladies. Riff: What did you do to Aylee? Berk: Your bird ain't cookin' 4D no more. She's between ticks, and that's outta my hands. Riff: ALl right, we'll start simple. Why are you trying to kill us? Berk: Just doing my job, ma'am. Torg: Isn't it going to be tougher to interrogate him with his mouth gagged? Riff: Only slightly. Berk: Grrrr Torg: Trying to translate Berk's "language" was a grueling process, but it all came together when we found his watch was no watch at all. It listed his mission info in audio format and even printed images on microfilm. Once all these pieces were brought together and cross referenced, the truth finally began to take cohesive form. I now know what's going on, with Gwynn, with Berk, with everything. Zoë: Well!?! What is it? Torg: The truth is... [dramatic pause] ...we're all screwed. Zoë: Could repeat that in layman's terms? Riff: When you say "screwed", do you mean "chick-on-PMS screwed" or "Bun-Bun-mad-at-us screwed?" Zoë: Hey! Torg: "Bun-Bun-on-PMS screwed" Riff: Dear lord! Narr: The future: Irving Schlock: The base is compromised, our future is lost. You can not fail the past, Lt. Berk! You must execute your targets without hesitation or the candle of hope will be extinguished for all time. Berk: No sweat, baby-cakes! I've been training my whole life for this gig, so bring it on! Irving Schlock: Hmmm. Maybe we should have spent some of that time teaching you english. Narr: The past: Osric: The storm is coming. Let us prepare. Narr: The present: Torg: Ok, this is the deal. Berk is a soldier from a future which is controlled by the same demon who is controlling Gwynn. This pretty much spells disaster for humanity, and for some reason, saving the future involves killing us. Zoë: Why did he try to kill you? Torg: According to the intelligence agency of the future, I was the one who summoned the demon. "Target 1". They had this image on file. Torg: Berk then found out that it was Gwynn who summoned the demon, not me. He tried to kill her but Riff was able to intervene. Berk got a hold of the book, and thought he stopped the summoning Torg: He was wrong! Gwynn finished the ceremony, and the demon possessed her. Now, the demon's goal is to kill Riff so it can be free to subjugate the world. Riff: And now Berk's trying to kill me before the demon can. Torg: Yeah, it's like you said before. You are "the price" for the demon's freedom. If the demon kills you, the world is his. But what's interesting is, it's not you getting killed that triggers the demon's freedom. It sounds like it's you fighting the demon that does it. Listen to this transcript from Berk's briefing: Anon: Early February, 1999: Target 2 engages demon. Exchanges of energy are seen by many. It is unknown if the exchange is technological, magical, or demonic. In any case, after the exchange, target 2 is gone and the demon is freed. Evil begins to kill the world like a slow cancer. Torg: And the world ends about 25 years after that. Riff: So I'm damned if I do, and damned if I don't. Zoë: Sounds more like we're all damned. Riff: What did you find out about this? Torg: That was a one-shot weapon sent back with him called the Time-Blaster. It's based on time-travel technology and effectively stops time for the target. Torg: It works against anything that is subject to time, aliens and demons included. He must have thought Aylee was the demon and used it on her. No telling how long it's going to last since it works outside of time. Torg: The imprtant thing is that she is alright. Zoë: I don't know how you managed to figure all this out, Torg, but I have to give you credit. When did you get so smart? Riff: Berk indicated that in the future Torg will become a world famous professor and it's gone to his head. Torg: That had nothing to do with it. I just think study and hard work are their own rewards. Riff: Actually he's destined to play "The Professor" in a musical version of Gilligan's Island and the demon is going to force the world to watch. *shudder* I just didn't have the heart to tell him. Riff: You know, I bet I can recharge this... Torg: Don't even think about it. According to Berk, something you do is supposed to destroy the future, so I'd suggest not messing with any inventions for a while. Riff: Right. To be safe, you should probably hold on to that book as well. Torg: But Riff... There's more. I didn't know how to tell you this before... It's in Berk's bio. Riff, Berk is your son! Torg: Ha! Just kidding! Gotcha! Riff: Don't do that! Zoë: Torg, I'm really worried! About Riff, Gwynn, everything! Isn't there some way to just send the demon back where it came from? Torg: I don't know, Zoë. If there is a way, the answer lies in the Book of E-Ville, and we're going to Gwynn's house to get it. Zoë: What if that demon is waiting for ou? Torg: Don't worry. The demon is in Gwynn's body, and she can't see a thing without glasses, and I don't think glasses come in demon sizes. Anon: But... but you're not even human! We don't have frames that fit around your head! K'Z'K: You've got "about an hour," like in the deal! Zoë: First you try to kill Torg, then you try to kill Gwynn. Now you're trying to kill Riff! Berk: I'ma dangerous man, baby! Zoë: How dangerous could you be? They're all still alive. Berk: Maybe just dangerous to save the world, lil' missy! Zoë: Uh-oh! I better call Gwynn's house and warn Riff! K'Z'K: Riff's at my house? Thank you! You always were a good friend! Zoë: Jeez, do I have to be kissed by everything in this freaking strip? Bun-Bun: The demon piece replaces the Gwynn piece and moves to dominate the board. Bun-Bun: This should prove to be a very interesting game! Kiki: Poing! Poing! Poing! Poing! Kiki: King me! Bun-Bun: How about I just crown you? K'Z'K: I know you're here, Riff! Zoë told me! Riff: Torg, the demon is after me not you. Take the Book of E-Ville and get out of... K'Z'K: Riffy? Riff: ...here. Run Torg. Don't worry about me. I'll be ok. Humph. Zoë: You carved little figures of us and put them on a chess board so you could play "evil mastermind". It's not like you're actually behind anything that's going on. Bun-Bun: Get lost, toots. I'm not in the mood. Zoë: I know you're not behind it, or you'd know the board is all wrong. The demon at Torg and Berk an hour ago. It also just squashed Kiki, and is now heading for Gwynn's house to polish off Riff. And the demon wears glasses now. Looks like you're going to have to make brand new pieces and start all over again! Bun-Bun: That demon has gone too damn far, messing with my fun! Zoë: Bun-Bun takes demon, checkmate. K'Z'K: Riffy? It's Valentine's day! Gimmie your heart! Riff: Oh, I've got a valentine for ya! Berk: You're chewing the wrapper to spite the bubble gum, bucky. It's me you want! Riff: Berk!?! Are you nuts? I dont want either.... Ooouuf! K'Z'K: There you are! I knew you still cared! Please don't take this squashing personally. Berk: Back off, ugly! Let me pop this guy and then me and you can get rich in the muckety-muck! K'Z'K: That's no way to talk to your girlfriend! Zoë: Get in! K'Z'K: He's getting away! Riff: Go! Go! Go! Berk: Darn... internal... bleeding. Where's the reset button on this thing? K'Z'K: My glasses? Bun-Bun: You're pissing me off, 4-eyes from hell. Get off my turf. K'Z'K: You broke my glasses! Bun-Bun: Yeah, I'm gonna roll you for lunch money next, so blow! K'Z'K: I can't see without my glasses! Do you know how tough they were to get? Bun-Bun: Aw, is the demon gonna cry? Cry, demon! Cry! Anon: Chip, you've got to see this! A cute little white and gray rabbit is hopping around the meat grinder! Chip: No way! Get the camera! K'Z'K: Bunny!?! Chip: Wow! That is cute! K'Z'K: I'm a little near-sighted, Miss! Could you point me towards the cute little mini-lop? Anon: It's traight ahead of you. Don't hurt me! K'Z'K: You will hurt, but later. Chip: Monster-dude, look out for the grinder... K'Z'K: Aaaaarrrrrghh! Anon: That thing called me "Miss"! I don't look like no chick! Chip: This has got to be breaking some health regs! Anon: No problem dude. No inspections till March! Torg: Hello!?! No Riff, no demon... Wow! Everybody is gone! Bun-Bun: That'll teach that demon! I hope it comes back! Berk: Ooooooh Torg: Bun-Bun!?! Hey! What are you doing here!?! Bun-Bun: Nerd-boy? Hey! I thought you were dead! Berk: Aaaaargh! Torg: Hey! It's Berk and he's injured! Berk: Hey! You're standing on my spleen! Torg: Well, teh phone is dead. And what were you saying about "Zoë being in trouble"? Bun-Bun: None of your business, nerd-boy. Let me finish telling you about the demon. Bun-Bun: It was infuriating. I'd cut her up, and she'd spring back together again, so there was no hope of winning, and since she was too nearsighted to see me, it wasn't even fun playing with her. So I led her into a "Burger Meister" and dumped her in the meat grinder. K'Z'K: Unhand me, foolish mortal! Bun-Bun: That proved immensely satisfying. Torg: You realize if we resuce Gwynn from the demon and she comes back to us a ground-round, Riff is going to be pissed! Bun-Bun: Yeah, well I still owe him for messing with the tv remote last Easter. K'Z'K: You think you can escape me, Riff? All I need to find you is a little help from my friends! Riff: Kiki!?! What's wrong? Kiki: Horrible, evil sounds! Can't you hear them? Bun-Bun: Hey, nerd-boy, do you hear Yaz? Anon 1: Doctor,... the corpse is... moving!!! Anon 2: Riffffffff Torg: I'm going to get help for you, Berk! Hold on! Berk: Cupcake... Forget it... It's over for the Berkster... You must kill Riff before the demon does or all is... lost! Torg: The demon is nearsighted and all ground up. And Riff is long gone! Berk: The demon... who possesses Gwynn... can call forth the deadels... to find him! Bun-Bun: The deadels? Torg: "Deadels?" Berk: She can bring the recent dead to life to do her bidding! Torg: Ok, I can see "undead", "evil dead", even "deadites", but "deadels?" Berk: Hey, when your world is ruled by an evil demon who wants to call its undead minions "deadels", you call 'em "deadels!" Bun-Bun: Sounds like some evil undead candy. Berk: If you can't kill Riff, then use the book! The book is our last hope. It may have some way to undo the spell that allows the demon to possess Gwynn. But you must act fast, her armies of deadels will find him soon. He will head towards Manhattan, and that's where it all goes down! Torg: Berk! You actually said something that made sense! It... Torg: ...it communicated. Torg: Wow! I thought you were annoying and evil when I first met you, but in truth, you were only trying to save the future. And in the end, you were a friend. Berk: Rifffffffff... Torg: And now you're back to being annoying and evil! Narr: And all across the tri-state area, the army of deadels search for one man. Anon 1: Rifffffffff Anon 2: Rifffffffff Anon 3: What are they? Anon 4: Rifffffffff Anon 5: A last name would help! Anon 6: Rifffffffff Anon 7: Alright! I'll put them back! Anon 8: I don't think he said "ribs", Doctor! Anon 9: There were 0 matches for Rifffffffff. Click here to refine your search. Berk: Rifffffffff Bun-Bun: Ouch. Narr: Gwynn's house Bun-Bun: There goes Berk's chance for an open casket, nerd-boy! Torg: We've got bigger things to worry about, Bun-Bun! We need to figure out a way to save the world! And hopefully Riff! And maybe Gwynn too! Bun-Bun: You don't even know where they are. Torg: Berk said they'd be going to the city but why would Riff go... Wait! Dr. Lorna! Riff: I think I can power Berk's Time-Blaster with my Omnitaser-Supreme. Then I'll be able to freeze Gwynn in time until I can think of something else. Zoë: Let's try to avoid the demon altogether. Riff: Shouldn't be too hard. With you and Kiki here and Torg on the run, there is no one the demon can use to bait me. Riff: The drunks are out early today. Zoë: Damn! I'm late for work! With Gwynn out too, your mom is in trouble. Anon 10: Rifffffffff Riff: Big trouble! We need to get to the city as quickly as possible! Zoë: Right! Anon 11: Rifffffffff K'Z'K: Spotted Riff again, my pets? Which way is he headed? And what is in that.... Anon 12: Um... Miss? Narr: Route 46, NJ K'Z'K: Mommy! Anon 12: Miss!!! You're the one who wanted the lift. You gonna tell me where you're headed, or what? K'Z'K: Oh, I'm sorry! Are you by any chance going to New York city? Anon 12: I am now! Anon 13: Rifffffffff Dr. Lorna: Did my son put you up to this? Go to commercial! Anon 14: Sorry, Lorna! ALl the lines are jammed with zombies! Real callers can't get through! Anon 15: Rifffffffff Dr. Lorna: Mindless zombies? Rush isn't on for another hour! Zoë: Even if your mom is in danger, maybe it'd be better if someone else went to save her? Riff: We have the advantage of knowing what's coming. All I need to do is figure out what I would have done if Berk hadn't warned me and I know what that is. Riff: I would have tried to exorcise the demon from Gwynn using the Book of E-Ville. And in removing the demon from Gwynn, I would have unintentionally released it on the world. Zoë: Torg has the book now, right? Are you sure he won't try to exorcise the demon? Riff: Torg? He wouldn't know how to being using the Book of E-Ville! Bun-Bun: Hey, nerd-boy, look! One of the ingredients we need is "eye of nerd-boy"! Torg: Yeah, like you can read. Zoë: According to the radio, a number of car crashes have closed off the Lincoln tunnel! And there's news of riots breaking out all over... Riff: I don't think they're your average rioters. Anon: Rifffffffff Zoë: This is bad, Riff! The demon knows you're coming and has stacked the deck with zombies. You'll never make it on foot. I didn't even think you liked your mom that much! Riff: Yeah, but I don't want to see her dead because of me. You and Kiki stay here. Better yet, find Torg and head for the hills. Anon: Rifffffffff Zoë: How are you going to reach the Empire State building with Manhattan filled with mutant freaks? Riff: I'll do what I normally do. Keep to myself, don't make eye contact... Zoë: No, I mean the zombies. Riff: Oh. FOr them I'll just move really fast. Qwirky Waltons: And so, New York has joined the fraternity of cities whose only admission requirement is to be overrun with evil zombies. FOr Nifty News Fifty, I'm Quirky Walton. Torg: How the hell am I supposed to cause the demon pain? Bun-Bun: I don't know, nerd-boy, but you have to or the exorcism won't work. And you have to find out the demon's name. Bun-Bun: You have to say his name and cause the demon pain. Torg: Hey, you rhymed! My cute little bunny-wunny is a poet who didn't even know it! Bun-Bun: You know why I'm helping you, but don't push it. "Torg" and "morgue". Now there's a rhyme for you. Torg: Well, Bun-Bun, this is the Empire State building! This is where Dr. Lorna's studio is. Do you think we beat Riff here? Bun-Bun: Yeah, but just barely, nerd-boy! He's over there getting ripped apart by zombies! Bun-Bun: All right, which zombie wants to pet the bunny first? Torg: Hey buddy! How the "fighting the future" thing going? Riff: Bun-Bun is on our side? Torg: I told Bun-Bun about Berk's report. You know, the one where in the future the demon will replace the babes on Baywatch with Chippendale dancers? Torg: You know, the "Baywatch Report"? Torg: You know, the super-secret... Riff: Sorry, I just went into shock at the concept. Dr. Lorna: Gwynn! There you are! First you miss work without calling in sick, and then you come in dressed like a street girl! Are you suffering from one of those brain-eating viruses? K'Z'K: I'm sorry, Dr. Lorna! You're right, I should have called in sick. K'Z'K: I'm still a bit under the weather, but I just wanted to drop by for a minute to dangle you off the observatory and murder your son! Dr. Lorna: My god! You're on drugs! It's the music you kids listen to. In my day... K'Z'K: You think I'm on drugs? Dr. Lorna: Everyone knows drugs cause hallucinations, and I must be hallucinating. K'Z'K: I'm not on drugs, although I might have that virus for eating brains! (Yum!) Torg: Berk says this is the place where the world goes to hell. Riff: Where is Berk? Torg: I sort-a blasted his head off. Riff: That sounds a bit extreme. Torg: It's ok, he was dead at the time. Riff: Oh! In that case it's just morose. Torg: The demon will be waiting for us up there. Riff: We need a plan. Riff: We'll take the elevator. Torg: Good plan. I bet there's lots of stairs in here. Anon 1: We need security up here now! Dr. Lorna: Mmff! Anon 1: Security is on the way. Anon 2: Wait! It's probably just my keys! Anon 3: One false move and I'll beat you to death! Anon 4: Move along, forma line... Single file, ma'am! Dr. Lorna: Mmmf! Torg: Any chance you'll get through that metal detector ok? Riff: We might be here a while. K'Z'K: Awww... Don't faint, Lorna! K'Z'K: I thought you liked looking down at others! Riff: Drop my mom now! Riff: Um... Let me rephrase that... Torg: I'm a powerful mage! Fear me, demon, and tell me your name! K'Z'K: Since you asked so nicely, my name will be the last sound that you hear. I am K'Z'K! Torg: "Kissy?" Riff: "Kizke?" K'Z'K: My name is K'Z'K! K'Z'K, dammit! No vowels! Torg: Like "Y2K"! Y2K has no vowels! Riff: Um, "Y" is sometimes a vowel. Torg: I'll give her a vowel! Torg: Kissy, I vowel to destroy you! K'Z'K: Erk!!! Riff: Yeah, our pursuit of you will be consonant and unyielding! K'Z'K: No! Not puns! Torg: Comma down, RIff! Don't take this personally! Stay ad-jective! Riff: But Mark said we must advert this capostrophe! Torg: Who am I to question Mark? K'Z'K: Stop! Please! It hurts! Torg: The demon is named and pained! Now watch me spell correctly! Riff: Huh? Torg! What are you doing? That spell will free... K'Z'K: Yes! Yes! Yes!!!!!!! Torg: That wasn't supposed to happen. Riff: Oh crap. K'Z'K: You freed me, as I knew you silly humans would! The world is mine! K'Z'K: Aw, don't fight over me! I'll destroy you both equally! Riff: Torg! You've freed the demon and ruined everything! Torg: You had a better plan? Riff: Yes! I recharged Berk's Time Blaster and I was going to freeze that demon-possessed girl in time! Torg: Oh god!@ What have I done? Riff: Now, I'm going to have to just freeze the demon. Torg: That'd work! K'Z'K: What? Nooooooooo! Torg: Yes! Riff: Up top! Riff: That was classic! Torg: Did you catch that demon's expression when you said "now, I'm going to have to just freeze the demon"? Riff: And wou with the "Oh no, what have I done" thing! You should have got an Oscar for... Torg: Um, if you froze the demon, where did it go? Riff: Let me check my notes. Torg: You zapped the demon into another time? Riff: This thing is so freaking temperamental. It was supposed to pause him... Riff: ...but it either fast forwarded or rewound him instead! Torg: Well, if you sent Kizke in to the future, that's no big deal. But if you sent him into the past, won't his actions cause a time-ripple that will alter our existence entirely? Riff: That's just hypothetical temporal theory, and too much temporal-paradox-talk makes my head hurt. Besides, if it does change our pasts, we'd never know about it, so who cares. At least the demon is out of our hair. Torg: Up for pizza? Riff: Garbage pie on me. Anon 1: Your mother is fine, just a bit dizzy. Your friend here is alive, but entirely unresponsive. We're sending for a chopper to take her to Beth Israel for a CAT scan, but there is absolutely nothihng I can do about this. Riff: I can't... there has to be something you can do! Anon 1: Even if I remove all of them, the pizza will still taste like fish. Riff: When I said I wanted everything, I didn't mean anchovies! Torg: I like anchovies! Anon 2: We need a chopper and a six-pack of Coke... Yes, a two liter will do. Zoë: Poor Gwynn! Do you think she will be alright? Torg: No. She's not going to be coming out of that coma, ever. Zoë: What astounding compassion you have. Torg: We did some checking on this demon, now that we know its name, "K'Z'K the Soul Collector". Wherever the Time Blaster sent Kizke, it sent Gwynn's soul too. Zoë: That's horrible! What about Aylee? Any chance Riff can use the Time Blaster to unfreeze her? Torg: No, she is going to be staying right where she is for a while. Anon: We're here to pick up one "Aylee-statue"? Bun-Bun: The big green thing over there. Torg: You sold Aylee on E-Bay? Bun-Bun: Yup, to an anonymous bidder. I billed her as a larger-than-life one-of-a-kind Pokémon monster statue. Torg: Bad bunny! Bun-Bun: Chill out, nerd-boy. When she turns back to normal she'll just come home. No harm done, and I make a small profit on the side! Torg: You can't go auctioning my friends off! Bad bunny! Bun-Bun: Do you know how much giant Pokémon statues are going for these days? Bun-Bun: I'll cut you in for 5% if you shut up. Torg: Good bunny! Narr: The past: Osric: The storm is here! King Sighard Lionson: You stupid old man! If what you say is true, we are all doomed! Narr: And another adventure draws to a close with the classic happy ending.. Happy except for the fact that Berk is dead, Aylee is gone, and Gwynn is a soulless vegetable. At least the bad guy got away! Ok, so the ending wasn't so happy. But, hey, you can be happy to know nothing else can go wrong. Dr. Lorna: Zoë, you're fired, and I'm calling your college to get your coop credits revoked. Zoë: What? Why? Dr. Lorna: You shouldn't have been friends with that psycho, Gwynn. Take some responsibility, girl! Stone Johnson: We now return to our Nifty News Fifty coverage of New York under siege. I'm Stone Johnson. The Lincoln tunnel is closed, the Empire State building, evacuated. The city, submerged in panic. Hundreds are claiming they way zombies turn to dust before their eyes. Stone Johnson: Many were affected, including our own Quirky Waltons. (Currently on hiatus). But what was the cause of it all? Was it really the living dead? We asked one presitgious doctor: Irving Schlock: Nope. The dead can't spring back to life. Dead is dead is dead. Stone Johnson: Irrefutable proof that this was all caused by mass hysteria. Some skeptics still hold on to the "zombie-theory" due to hundreds of zombie sightings all over the tri-state area. So, was it mass hysteria? Or zombies? You have the facts, you can decide for yourselves. Stone Johnson: Actually, we can't take that chance, so I'll tell you. All the people who called in zombie reports were loonies or suffering from mass hysteria. But what caused the mass hysteria? Stone Johnson: It was Marilyn Manson! For more on this, we take you live to popular talks show host, Dr. Lorna. Dr. Lorna has had a first hand account of being victimized by crazed Marilyn Manson fans. Stone Johnson: How do you know Marilyn Manson was behind it all? Dr. Lorna: Well, look at the freak! It's like the old saying goes, judge the book by the cover. In my day, music didn't warp us like the mush-minded kids of today. What happened to wholesome bands like The Beatles? Stone Johnson: Yes, what happened to them indeed. There you have it. Irrefutable proof that rabid Marilyn Manson fans descended on the city. The "musician" deserves to be pointed at and scorned. Stone Johnson: For unbiased fact reporting, we're Nifty News Fifty, and for Nifty News Fifty, I'm Stone Johnson. Torg: Listen to this! Jerry Faldwell says the antichrist is a jew and is alive today! Riff: The only guy I know who is a contender for antichrist is that guy from "Blues Clues", and he isn't jewish. I think. Riff: Who is Jerry Faldwell? Torg: I think the's the guy who had the affair with Tammy Fay Baker, but don't quote me on that. Torg: Speaking of kid's shows, he also says one of the Tellytubbles is an abusive drunk! Riff: Not "Drinky Winky"!?! Torg: It says here that "Drinky Winky" of the "Teletubbles" is obviously an abusive drunk because of the bottle of booze he carries. Riff: That's not a bottle of booze! It's his magic bottle that makes his problems go away! Riff: Nevermind. Torg: "The abusive side of Drinky Winky is demonstrated by..." Riff: Tipsy and How had it coming! Zoë: Hi guys! What's up for today? Now that I'm done interning for Dr. Lorna, I have plenty of free time! Torg: Wow! I would have thought you were swamped with midterms! Torg: Didn't yous tart studying for midterms? Zoë: Midterms? I completely forgot! Riff: She'll be back. Riff: Being as we're using her textbooks as coasters. Torg: "Women Studies" and it doesn't even have pictures. Go figure. Zoë: I haven't left the room yet, you jerks! Torg: What's wrong, Zoë? Can't you study for midterms without the textbooks? Zoë: Stop playing silly games, you jerk! Riff: Hey Zoë, if you can get these textbooks from me, I'll buy you a chocolate sundae! Kiki: A chocolate sundae?!? I win! Torg: Yup, looks like Kiki is sprinting toward the ice-cream place. Zoë: You get my books back now! Riff: Buy me a banana split? Zoë: She did what!?! Torg: We're really sorry, Zoë! Kiki buried your textbooks somewhere around the apartments and forgot where! Riff: She didn't mean it. Torg: Look, you start digging around front, Riff and I'll take the back. We'll find them! Torg: Like Kiki could bury a textbook. This is getting kind of fun! Kiki: I could too if I wanted to! Riff: I don't know, I'm starting to feel a bit "Bun-Bunesque". Torg: Wow, that puts it in perspective. I guess we should return her books. Riff: "We"? Not while she's holding that shovel! Kiki: Is she trying to kill the dirt? Torg: I was a joke, Zoë! We were just fooling around! I brought all your books back! Zoë: Sometimes you guys take a joke too far. I'm not in the mood Torg. Why don't you just leave? Torg: Very funny. Torg: Hey, I can't get this bucket off! Is there glue in here? Zoë: I, on the other hand, know exactly how far to take a joke! Anon: Get off your lazy ass and get a job! Get off your lazy ass and get a job! Get off your lazy ass and get a job! Drinky Winky! Anon: Drin-ky Win-ky Zoë: Would you guys please go watch Teletubbles in your own apartments? I've got to study! Torg: What? Can't hear you! I've got a bucket over my ears! Riff: And I'm deliberately obtuse. Torg: I don't think it's fair. You were as much a part of hiding Zoë's textbooks as I was, and you didn't get a bucket glued to your head! Riff: Actually, when I fell asleep in front of the tv, Zoë glued my hands in my pockets. Torg: What kind of lame trick is that? Nobody would even notice if... Torg: However, glued hands mixed with having one's shoelaces tied together works! Riff: Ow-wow! It hurts! Riff: Ow! My hands are starting to itch. Torg: So's my whole head! Ow! Zoë: What? What's wrong? Torg: Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Riff: It burns! It burns! What the hell kind of glue did you use, Zoë? Zoë: I... I didn't think! I'm sorry! I'll get help! Torg: Ok, while she's calling for an ambulance of something, we sneak out the back leaving her holding the bag! Riff: My thoughts exactly. Zoë: We have to get the bucket and trench-coat off you two. No time for the hospital! This sulfuric acid may scar a bit, but you'll live! Torg: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Riff: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Zoë: Are we done now? Can I go back to studying yet? Torg: Dude! Shoelaces! Riff: Owwie. Anon: You can't defend your family against me, Riki-Kiki-Taco! Kiki: Try to get past me, mean 'ol snake! Anon: I'll swallow you whole! Kiki: Nyah, nyah! Nyah, nyah! Kiki: Eek! Help! Help! Torg: If you don't stop playing with the vacuum, I'm not going to let you vacuum my apartment anymore. Kiki: I'm sorry! Torg: Or dust! Kiki: I'm sorry! Anon: Hmmm! A lovely bunny to have as a snack! Kiki: Not if Riki-Kiki-Taco can stop you! Anon: Darn you! Kiki: Ha-ha! You can't win with meanness! Kiki: Oops! Bun-Bun: Somebody's gonna die for this. Bun-Bun: You are so freakin' dead, tube-rat! Kiki: Eeeeek! Torg: Riff? Bun-Bun is trying to kill Kiki! Riff: I got ten bucks on the bunny. Torg: I thought you might be concerned about Kiki. Torg: Plus I'm offering two-to-one odds on her. Riff: Ten on Bun-Bun, take it or leave it. Fluffy: On no! Easter is only a few weeks away and the Easter Bunny never came back last year! What are we going to do? Bitsy Bunny: I don't know. Anon: Who is that? Squeeky-Bobo: Are you Bitsy Bunny? Bitsy Bunny: Y... yes? Squeeky-Bobo: Come with us if you want to save Easter. Narr: Insert dramatic music here. Santa Claus: Tell me, Bitsy Bunny, do you know what happened to the Easter Bunny? Bitsy Bunny: No, sir... He just never came back from delivering eggs last year. Santa Claus: He was squashed by another rabbit who goes by the name of Bun-Bun! Bitsy Bunny: Oh no! Santa Claus: And that is why I have brought you here today, Bitsy. I have a plan that will save Easter and allow us to take revenge and destroy Bun-Bun! Bitsy Bunny: Santa? Is that you? Santa Claus: Ho-ho-ho. Narr: Insert even more dramatic music here. Bitsy Bunny: But Santa, why do you want to see a cute little rabbit dead? I thought you liked everybody! Squeeky-Bobo: You will show Santa more respect, or I'll see your whole family with coal in their stockings! Santa Claus: That's enough, Mr. Squeeky-Bobo. Squeeky-Bobo: Yes, Santa. Santa Claus: Bun-Bun is no ordinary bunny, Bitsy. That rabbit has chipped away at my jollyness, leaving almost nothing left. This plan I have devised will not only save Easter, but Christmas as well. Santa Claus: Gather your warren, Bitsy, and return here tomorrow, and all will be revealed to you. Narr: Insert dramatic music here followed by ominous thunder. Santa Claus: This project began a year ago, when we salvaged some DNA from the first Easter-Bunny. Santa Claus: My elf-geneticists combined rapid growth hormones with the most advanced cyborg technology. Santa Claus: The cyborg was then protected by an exoskeleton built from space-metals and the stuff used to make Gobstoppers. Santa Claus: Then, adding the latest R&D weaponry from the Pentagon (the head guy there has a thing for teddy bears). We designed the most advanced and lethal cyborg-clone rabbit ever created! Santa Claus: And all that topped off with a computer-enhanced brain completely under our control. I present to you, Mecha-Easter-Bunny! Santa Claus: This unstoppable force has but one goal... to destroy Bun-Bun! Squeeky-Bobo: Whisper whisper whisper Santa Claus: Two goals! To destroy Bun-Bun and deliver Easter eggs! Squeeky-Bobo: Whisper whisper whisper Santa Claus: Three goals! To destroy Bun-Bun, deliver Easter eggs, and destroy Tokyo! Anon: Bunzirra! Bitsy Bunny: But Santa... why would you want to hurt the people of Tokyo? Why? Santa Claus: Um... er... it's a genre thing. Goes with the whole "mecha" theme! They always destroy Tokyo. Its like an um... unwritten law... Santa Claus: Yes? ...ah. ...very good. Santa Claus: Moot point anyway, objective three has been accomplished. So, I get an assassin, and you get an Easter Bunny. Agreed? Bitsy Bunny: We can't condone your violent motives so we'll have to force ourselves to forget they exist! Anon 1: Yay! Anon 2: Hurray! Anon 3: Easter is saved! Santa Claus: Excellent. Mecha-Easter-Bunny: I'm the Easter Bunny, I'm ok, I deliver painted eggs all day! Kiki: Hey, you look familiar! Mecha-Easter-Bunny: I'm the Easter Bunny! Bun-Bun: Gotcha now, Kiki! I'll show you what happens when... Kiki: Eek! Mecha-Easter-Bunny: Objective! Bun-Bun: Why you little... Mecha-Easter-Bunny: Objective: Kill Bun-Bun
>Weapon detected
>***Kaclick*** Bun-Bun: All right, you albino freak! Mecha-Easter-Bunny: >Switchblade
>Countermeasures
>Commencing....... Bun-Bun: Yeargh! Bun-Bun: Now I'm mad. Bun-Bun: You got some pretty good moves there buddy! Let's be friends! Bun-Bun: Oops! Set you on fire by accident. Mecha-Easter-Bunny: Objective: Kill Bun-Bun Bun-Bun: But, hey what's a little barbecue between... friends...... um... Mecha-Easter-Bunny: Damage 0% (superficial 98%)
>Battle plan 43: smoked rabbit
>(with rosemary) Mecha-Easter-Bunny: My thoughts exactly! Zoë: What's wrong, Kiki? Kiki: Bun-Bun found a new friend to play with and they won't include me. Torg: Don't feel bad Kiki! You can play with us. Zoë: I think it's about time I give that rabbit a piece of my mind. Where is he? Kiki: You have to follow the path of screams, smoke, and debris! Zoë: Oh! I thought Riff was trying to invent an electric bottle opener again. Riff: Hey! Anon: Santa, I don't get it! Mecha-Easter-Bunny keeps missing Bun-Bun! According to our calculations he should be getting nailed every time! Santa Claus: Perhaps Bun-Bun is quicker than we calculated, but we still have an advantage. Bun-Bun will eventually tire-out. Our robot will never get tired. Santa Claus: You know what I mean. Zoë: Bun-Bun is starting to look tired! What is that thing? It's armored like a tank! Torg: I don't know what it is, but it's got more weapons than some small countries! Zoë: What about Riff? Does he know what it is or what to do with it? Torg: I think he wants to marry it. Torg: It's almost time for Baywatch! Bun-Bun and that robot rabbit who's trying to kill him should be by any second now. Riff: We must stay alert if we're going to capture that robot so I can study it! Torg: Aw, look! Kiki's playing with our sandwich fixin's! Riff: Aw! Bun-Bun: Dammit! Where did I put that thing? Bun-Bun: Here it is. Mecha-Easter-Bunny: >Incoming transmission: Anon: Where the hell did that rabbit get a bazooka? Mecha-Easter-Bunny: >End of transmission Mecha-Easter-Bunny: >Incoming
>Oh crap!!!! Mecha-Easter-Bunny: You shot my nose off! Bun-Bun: Damn! That's it? Bun-Bun: This has not been my day. Kiki: Halt, evil person! Mecha-Easter-Bunny: You! Bun-Bun: Oh, thank you, Riki-Kiki-Taco! Kiki: Eek! The robot is spitting yuck on me! Help! Riff: Um, how do you get peanut butter off a pet? Torg: Gum, I think. Riff: Every time I give her a piece, she swallows it. Mecha-Easter-Bunny: Objective: Kill Bun-Bun
>Objective: Kill Bun-Bun
>Searching... searching... Mecha-Easter-Bunny: >Unable to locate objective...
>Unable to locate objective...
>Unable to locate objective...
>Initiate perimeter search Bun-Bun: Is it gone? Torg: I think so! Bun-Bun: Now that I've finally lost that electric waffle-maker I can come up with a plan. Torg: You know, maybe people would be more willing to help you if you weren't so mean and violent to them. You didn't even thank me for hiding your sorry... Bun-Bun: Thank you! Thanks for reminding me how mean and violent I am! And I think I've got a plan! Bun-Bun: Help me, Torg! I just need you to delay the robot so I can get away! I'll be a good bunny from now on! Torg: Ok, but only if you promise to be good and do my laundry for a month! Torg: *Yawn* What a nice dream! I wonder if that's my subconscious trying to tell me to help Bun-Bun. Torg: What the heck? Mecha-Easter-Bunny: Objective: Kill Bun-Bun Mecha-Easter-Bunny: Match!!! Mecha-Easter-Bunny: >Objective: Kill Bun-Bun
>Objective acquired
>Closing in! Riff: *Yawn* What do you guys want? It's not even noon yet! Grumph. Zoë: Bun-Bun got him too. Torg: Can we borrow scissors? Bun-Bun welded the zipper shut and we need to get out of these costumes! Riff: Why would Bun-Bun stick us all in lop costumes?!? Mecha-Easter-Bunny: Objective: Kill Bun-Bun
>Audio "Aaaaaaaaaaa..." Torg: Aaaaaaaaaaaaa Zoë: Aaaaaaaaaaaaa Riff: Aaaaaaaaaaaaa Mecha-Easter-Bunny: >Objective: Kill Bun-Bun
>Targeting multiple targets! Mecha-Easter-Bunny: >Objective: Kill Bun-Bun
>Targeting multiple targets Torg: Aaaaaaaaaaaaa Zoë: Aaaaaaaaaaaaa Riff: Aaaaaaaaaaaaa Mecha-Easter-Bunny: >Error, only one target.
>Targeting multiple >Error, only one target.
>Targeting multiple Santa Claus: What's wrong? Those guys are obviously not Bun-Bun! Anon 1: Well, the brain might be computerized, but the instincts are still of the Easter Bunny, and he wasn't exactly the sharpest carrot in the bunch. Anon 2: Santa, something is wrong! Mecha-Easter-Bunny: Conflict. Conflict. Conflict. Conflict. Conflict. Conflict. Torg: *Whew!* Zoë: *Whew!* Riff: *Whew!* Riff: I think this robot was only programmed to kill a single target, Bun-Bun. So its logic capacity blew a fuse when it saw three Bun-Buns. Zoë: Well, is it dead? Santa Claus: It's a good thing that rabbit shut down, or it would have hurt those poor kids! Anon: But Santa, what about the backup "@#%$-it!" system? You had us install it in case Bun-Bun tried to trick it! Santa Claus: Ho-ho-holy $#!%! Mecha-Easter-Bunny: @#%$-it! Kill them all! Riff: Yikes!!!! Mecha-Easter-Bunny: Objective: Kill Bun-Bun
>Initiating "@#%$-it!" Torg: Aaaaaaaaaaaaa Zoë: Aaaaaaaaaaaaa Riff: Aaaaaaaaaaaaa Mecha-Easter-Bunny: Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Mecha-Easter-Bunny: >Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill,
>Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, Mecha-Easter-Bunny: >Multiple targets destroyed in 3...2...1.. *Pause*
>Proximity alert! Bitsy Bunny: Easter Bunny? Mecha-Easter-Bunny: Primary objective: Acquire, deliver, and conceal Easter eggs. Bitsy Bunny: Come along! It's time to hide Easter eggs! Mecha-Easter-Bunny: conceal Easter eggs.
>Primary objective: Acquire, deliver, and conceal Easter eggs.
>Primary objective: Acquire, deliver, and Mecha-Easter-Bunny: Let's hide Easter eggs! Yay! Torg: *Whew!* Zoë: *Whew!* Riff: *Whew!* Santa Claus: His primary objective is to deliver Easter eggs? I wanted the primary to be killing Bun-Bun! We built the darn thing! Squeeky-Bobo: Those Easter rabbits might look cute, but they're bastards at the bargaining table! Narr: And another Easter arrives. The Mecha-Easter-Bunny delivers and hides eggs with efficiency 45% above previous years. Narr: Torg, Zoë and Riff manage to free themselves from the mini-lop costumes. Kiki goes into ferret-shock. Narr: And Bun-Bun and Santa watch from afar, and plan. Narr: With Tokyo destroyed and the Easter eggs delivered, the only thing on Mecha-Easter-Bunny's mind is the destruction of Bun-Bun, and Bun-Bun is easily tracked to a steel forge. Santa Claus: He's baiting the robot in so he can melt him down! Will that work? Anon 1: His externals can take the heat, but his internals and joints will go... so yes. Anon 2: I'll make sure he steers clear of the hot stuff. Mecha-Easter-Bunny: Target acquired. Bun-Bun: All right "R2-Freak2". This is it. Only one of us makes it out alive. Mecha-Easter-Bunny: Objective: Kill Bun-Bun
>Lock-on... Bun-Bun: Hey, what's this thing? Mecha-Easter-Bunny: >Monitoring external temperature
>Proceeding with caution Mecha-Easter-Bunny: Primary objective: Bun-Bun: An Easter egg? Mecha-Easter-Bunny: >Acquire, deliver, and conceal Easter eggs. Bun-Bun: DOn't need this, do I? Mecha-Easter-Bunny: Objective;; Kill Egg-Bun Conceal Tokyo Mecha-Easter-Bunny: >CBHAUIHCCNFU,ASM;EFMI:Oijxcjiq;sxmiisjCJicj:osc;;OJLKDJHFWDJKLCALKYADLKfwiodjg; Mecha-Easter-Bunny: Let's hide Easter eggs! Yay! Mecha-Easter-Bunny: Mecha Easter Bunny program Mecha-Easter-Bunny: >-Terminated- Santa Claus: Ho-oh crap. Narr: And another Easter draws to a close with another dead Easter Bunny. Bun-Bun:2 Easter Bunnies: 0 Santa Claus: Now that the Mecha Easter Bunny is destroyed, Bun-Bun will be coming for us next. Anon 1: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa Anon 2: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa Anon 3: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa Santa Claus: At least you are still loyal to me, Mr. Squeeky-Bobo. I've always appreciated... Squeeky-Bobo: I'm stuck! Loosen my tie now, fat-boy! Torg: What'cha working on? Riff: Hey Torg! I'm building a time machine! Torg: Isn't that Berk's blaster-thingy? Riff: Yes. That weapon has all the technology from the future that I need to conquer time. Torg: Wow. Think of what we could do with our own time machine! Torg: See how cavemen respond to Spice-Girl music! Riff: Go back in time to when miniskirts were in! Torg: Does the time machine work? Riff: I'm starting to get control of it. Watch what happens when I point it at the microwave... Riff: A nukeable burrito done in 30 seconds instead of a minute! Torg: You had to do it. You had to send the burrito back in time. Riff: How was I supposed to know it would break apart into it's original ingredients? Riff: *Shudder* Well, now we know what a nukeable burrito is really made of. Torg: Knowledge is power, and I for one, feel more powerful. Riff: Want to try it again with a hot-dog? Torg: Riff, power corrupts, but absolute power corrupts absolutely! Grahammy: I'm telling you, I don't builld robots or toys! I'm a Neebler elf! I bake cookies! Bun-Bun: Yeah, but your cousin runs with Santa's gang, and I want to know where they are. Grahammy: They were meeting with the Easter rabbits! That's all I know! Believe me! Bun-Bun: That sounds like Santa, asking for the ok before building a new Easter Bunny. Bun-Bun: You did good, Grahammy. See ya around. Anon: You just rolled over on your cousin like that? Grahammy: Last elf that held out on Bun-Bun wound up at the bottom of a fudge tank wearing nut-cluster shoes! Bun-Bun: Did I get everyone's attention? Bun-Bun: Good. Bun-Bun: I know Santa built you guys a robot Easter Bunny, that he also sent after me. Mr. Red wouldn't want to be too far away to enjoy his victory, which means he ain't at the North Pole getting a satellite feed. He must be local. So, which one of you wants to tell me where Santa is? Anon 1: Me! Anon 2: Mememe! Anon 3: Oooh, I know! Anon 4: Pick me! Bun-Bun: I get the feeling there's a lot of inbreeding going on in this warren. Bun-Bun: Wow! Santa's head came off easier than I thought! Bun-Bun: Oh dammit all. Santa Claus: I'm sorry, Mrs. Claus. I'm sorry I failed you. Bun-Bun got away. Santa Claus: I know what you're thinking. I swear I can almost hear your voice saying, "Christmas is more important, just let it go." You always were more level headed than I. Santa Claus: But I vowed I'd make him pay for what he had done. With that one bomb, he destroyed so much. My workshop, some of my elves, and what he did to us... Mrs. Claus: What? You got the wind knocked out of you and I wasn't even home when the workshop blew up! Santa Claus: That's not the point, Mrs. Claus! That bunny has gone too far! Mrs. Claus: Well, it's time to go home, dear. Santa Claus: But Bun-Bun isn't dead yet! I set up this grave for him and everything! Mrs. Claus: Stop being so morbid. Besides, maybe the explosives I left for Bun-Bun blew him up! Santa Claus: It would take more than explosives to take care of him, Mrs. Claus. Torg: How's the time machine going? Riff: I'm just about to run a little experiment. Riff: Let's see what happens when I do this... Torg: How's the time machine going? Riff: I'm just about to run a little experiment. Riff: Let's see what happens when I do this... Torg: How's the time machine going? Riff: I'm just about to run a little experiment. Torg: Whoa... Deja-vu! Riff: Let's see what happens when I do this... Torg: How's the... Hey, wait a minute... Riff: I'm just about to run a little experiment. Torg: Riff! Don't hit that button! Riff: Let's see what happens when I do this... Torg: How's the... Hey, wait a minute. Riff: I'm just about to run a little experiment. Torg: Nobody's touching this freakin' button! Torg: How's the... Hey, wait a minute. Riff: I'm just about to run a little experiment. Torg: Nobody's touching this freakin' button! Torg: Nobody's touching this freakin' button! Torg: How's the... Hey, wait a minute. Riff: I'm just about to run a little experiment. Torg: Nobody's touching this freakin' button! Torg: How's the... Hey, wait a minute. Riff: I'm just about to... Whoa... Deja-vu. Torg: Nobody's touching this freakin' button! Torg: How's the... Hey,... Riff: I'm just about to... Hey! Torg: Yow! Riff: That was my last beer! Torg: What the hell was that about? Riff: I'm... not sure, actually. Sorry. But check this out! Riff: I'm tweaking a test I was going to run. If my calculations are correct, when I hit this button, the beer spillage will hav enever occurred. Kiki: Darn. Zoë: Thanks for letting me borrow your notes, Fay! Fay: Sure Zoë! No problem! I hear you're studying with Dex, he's cute. Zoë: Uh... yeah but we're just friends. He's not my type. Fay: Oh. 'cause I was thinking maybe we could all study together! Zoë: You wnt a piece of me, barbie-doll? Torg: Hey, I'm heading out to the college. My friend has an exhibit in the art building and he wanted me to check it out. Riff: Sure, Torg, go ahead, go have fun. It doesn't bother you at all that Aylee is frozen time and was auctioned off to an unknown bidder, Bun-Bun has disappeared, Gwynn is in a coma, because her soul was ripped out by a demon that we blasted somewhere in time, and that I, Riff, am building a time machine? Torg: Do you really care if I go, or was that an excuse to do a recap fr the audience? Riff: And we now focus on Zoë's college life where we meet her friend Fay and hear of this mysterious Dex! Kiki: Ooooh! Recap me! Recap me! Zoë: Dex should be by any minute. I won't spaz out this time, I won't spaz out this time, I won't... Torg: Hey, Zoë! Wow, what's the chance of running into you? Zoë: Torg? What the hell are you doing here? Torg: My friend Bert has an art exhibit up and he invited me to check it out! Zoë: Get out of here! Torg: No, I'm serious! The exhibit is in the Fine Arts building! Dex: Hi, Zoe! And who is this? Zoë: Hi, Dex! Who are you referring to? Torg: Wow, I didn't know there was an eclipse today Dex: I'll see you later, Zoë! Zoë: Bye, Dex! Fay: Bye, Dex! Fay: *Bleck!* Zoë: All right, so I get a little flighty when I'm around him. He is cute. Zoë: Maybe it's not just me since he's taking me out to dinner this weekend! Fay: Why yes, I would like fries with that, Dex! Bert: Here it is, Torg! My masterpiece. What do you honestly think? Torg: Bert, it's a crotch. Torg: A really, really big crotch. Bert: My world is a crotch! Riff: How was the art exhibit? Torg: A little too up close and personal. But that's not what's really interesting. I ran into Zoë and when this guy "Dex" came by, she got all jumpy and pretended not to know me! It was like high school all over again? Riff: Aw, is Zoë is love? Zoë: Hi Torg. I wanted to come by and apologize about how I treated you before. Torg: Zoë's got a boyfriend, Zoë's got a boyfriend! Riff: Nyah, nyah! Nyah, nyah! Zoë: Oh, grow up, you jerks! Torg: That wasn't half as fulfilling as I had hoped. I feel strangely depressed. Riff: He's not good enough for her! And I think I just stuffed a calculator in my ear. Torg! It works! The time machine is a success! Riff: Only one thing remains. How should we put the time machine to use? Torg: We could go back to colonial times and make fun of the guys wearing powdered wigs! Riff: I know that was our original plan, but we must think of something more noble. Something that will change the world! Torg: Find the guy who will animate the first "dancing baby" and break his hands? Dex: How was your Knuckle Sandwich? Zoë: Good. How was your Jive Turkey? Dex: Filling! But I saved room for the "Sundae Bloody Sundae"! Zoë: Well, at least dessert is a new subject. All we've been talking about is school work. Dex: Hey, I have a new subject! You haven't mentioned Dr. Lorna in a while! How's life with one of the most popular radio talk-show hosts of all time? Zoë: No, I never mentioned...? I don't work for her anymore. Dex: You don't? Zoë: Nope! Dex: Check please! Zoë: What about dessert? Dex: I'm a bit fuller than I thought. I'll have to owe you one! See you on campus? Torg: The time machine is finished? Riff: Yes, but we must be sure it works. Riff: By pushing this button, I should be able to send this Drew Carey doll back in time to the first panel of this comic. Riff: We could go back in time and find out what happened on Zoë's date... Torg: Zoë's love-life is the least of our problems, check out this report on the Y2K bug. Riff: So, some systems will get buggy. No big whoop. Torg: Yeah, but look at the highlighted section. They are fixing all the major systems, but some are low on the totem pole, lik... Riff: "Beer Distribution." Torg: In the year 2000, beer may be impossible to get. Riff: We can't risk being vague on this! We have to know what the future holds! Narr: Insert dramatic music here, or the sound of thunder, or hell, just saw "whoa" like Keanu Reeves would. That'd be fine. Fay: Hey, Dex! How'd your date with Zoë go last night? Dex: It wasn't a "date" date, Fay! We just had a bite to eat between study sessions. No biggie. Fay: If it wasn't a "date" date, then why is she marching this way, looking like she's going to kill you? Dex: My god! She thought it was a "date" date! Fay: Right now I'd be more concerned over whether she is going to "kill you" kill you! Zoë: You just wanted to spend time with me because I was working for Dr. Lorna!?!? Zoë-Angel: Just tell him how you feel, honestly, and without violence. Zoë-Devil: Stop talking! Just glare at him and watch him suffer. Dex: Come on, we're communications majors, and you were working for one of the most popular talk-show hosts! Of course that would make you interesting! Dex: Interesting-er! "Interestinger." I don't know what you're so upset about. Look, I'm sorry! I'm not sure for what but... but... Zoë-Angel: So you just glare at the and that works? Why doesn't he run away? Zoë-Devil: It's tough to run with both feet stuck in your mouth. Dex: I... I think you're very nice and boring, Zoë! Dex: I just said "beautiful", right? "Nice and beautiful"? Zoë: Are you stifling a yawn?!? Zoë: Boring? How can I be boring? I've had adventures beyond most people's beliefs! Zoë-Devil: Sure, but every time you go in kicking and screaming. Always the victim or the nag. Torg and Riff always go in guns a-blazin' while you play mom. Zoë-Angel: I prefer the term "cautious". Zoë: That does it. I'll show 'em all who's boring! Zoë: Hi guys! What new exploit are you planning! Torg: Riff is sending me to the year 2000 to make sure the Y2K bug doesn't interrupt deer distribution! Zoë-Angel: Holy $#!%! Zoë-Devil: They're morons! Zoë: Count me in! Riff: Ok, here's the shotgun. Extra ammo and the other toys are in the back. Riff: Zoë, aren't you going to complain about us bringing weapons to the future? Zoë: I'll take that! I mean, I'm riding shotgun, and now I have a shotgun! It makes sense to me! Torg: Zoë are you feeling ok? Zoë: Let's bus some heads! Torg: Um... That's "bust some heads". Zoë: Let's pinch ass! Riff: Ok, you should arrive on May 9th, in the year 2000. Be careful, time travel can be very dangerous. Riff: Just make sure that beer distribution is still running unhindered by the Y2K bug. And grab me a widescreen laser disc of "Phantom Menace". And get me a dirt cheep Voodoo 4 card. Then return. Torg: Ready, time-chick? Zoë: Ready, groovy time-guy! Torg: Here we go! Zoë: Torg? Torg! Something is wrong! It's not stopping! Oh my god! Torg: Something is wrong! I'm going to die! Why won't it stop? Kiki: That didn't sound good. Was that supposed to happen? Wasn't that "time blaster" thingy supposed to go too? Riff: Damn. I guess the time machine wasn't Y2K compatible. Torg: Wow. The future sure is sandy! Anon: Rraaa Anon: Rraaa Zoë: Torg, what just... Anon: Rraaa Zoë: I didn't mean to... I can't believe I just shot someone... something... Torg: Don't sweat it. You got a bad guy! I've seen this work before. This is the work of Kizke. Zoë: Torg, I don't think this is the year 2000. How are we going to get home? Torg: We're screwed. Osric: The storm is here, but so is the Storm Break! As foretold! Osric: The Storm Breaker has arrived! Muffin: Banter!?! Banter: I'm coming! This isn't exactly the lightest kitchen appliance to be pushing around in the middle of the night. Anon: You will not stop our plans to unleash some random evil, Baker! Muffin: Eat garnish, pot-stickers of evil! Anon 1: Yaaaaaah! Anon 2: Yaaaaaah! Muffin: Bake vampires at 450 degrees for... Banter: "...for twenty five minutes, or until the juices run evil." I know, Muffin. We've been baking the undead for three years now, and I'm getting sick of it. Banter: But, this is life when you live over a "hell mouth". If we don't keep the vamps and other baddies at bay, the Gates of Hell spring open and the world goes bye-bye. Muffin: At least you can bail our on the job whenever you want. I'm the Vampire Baker, which means I was born to live by two rules. "Destroy vampiers", and "presentation makes the meal." Banter: Hey! How did they get out? Muffin: SOmebody sabotaged our vampire-oven! Banter: Oven times may vary, but I think they're a bit rare. Muffin: "Underdone undead," definitely. Muffin: I thought we were goners for sure, Biles! That's when this vampire came to our rescue! Muffin: He stabbed the other vamps with something, I couldn't see what, and they turned to dust, just like that! No cooking at all! Just poof, no more vampire. Banter: Think of what we could do with powdered vampes! "Just add evil!" Biles: Muffin, we know somebody sabotaged your oven, and now this vampire shows up out of nowhere to save you. It's all a bit too fortunate. Muffin: You mean, did he save me because he is good, like my vampire boyfriend, Angle? Or was he plotting something big and nasty? I can't tell, 'cause we had to bolt. Sam: You said the babe was into studdly vamps, so why'd she run from me screaming? I'm here for the chicks, man! Anon: I like vamps, but you're making me want to run and scream. Anon 1: I said she's been dating this vampire named Angle. I didn't say she was hot on vampires! She's Muffin the Vmapire Baker, man! She bakes your kind like cubscout cupcakes. And, by the way, I don't think you've won any friends here by dusting off some vamps to save her. Killing your own for a date witha mortal. Sam: Don't worry about ol' Sam, I make my own rules! Why the heck would she take the time to cook vampires when all you have to do is stick a stake through our hearts? Anon 1: That's none of my business, plus I don't care. Sam: This is so dumb. Do you use silver bullets on werewolves? Anon 1: You'd have to ask Scruffy the Werewolf Shaver 'bout that. Anon 2: So, youre the guy who saved Muffin? Huh? And maybe you were thinking of telling Muffin the simple secret of how to kill us? Sam: Sam-rule number 1: always wear break-away capes! Willy-Os: I heard a vampire saved you last night, Muffin! And I heard he was different than normal vampiers! I mean, as "normal" as a vampire can be... you know. Muffin: I don't know, Willy-Os, it was kind of stop, drop and roll sitch. But he was kinda cute, not all lumpy-faced like the other vamp guys! Willy-Os: Guys with lumps aren't bad... If they're big, and in the right places... you know... Muffin: Not really, Wills. What are you talking about? Willy-Os: Oh no! Not that lump... Oh definitely not that! Limps! I meant like lumps, like muscle lumps! Muscles I was talking about! I'd never think about the other, you know... Muffin: Lumps. Got it. Banter: Hey, you crazy kids! WIlly-Os: Oh! Banter! I didn't even notice your lumps! Banter: I... have more than one? Biles: From your descriptions, it is likely that he is a vampire of the Lysinda Circle. Willy-Os: That sounds familiar! Like the bad kind of familiar. We fought them? Muffin: A while ago. They were tough. We had to use tenderizer and special recipes on them. Lots of beheading, major ick. Biles, what about the way these vampires wre killed. With that spikey sharp thingy? Biles: According to the Baker's logs there is one case during a "vamp kabob" recipe attempt in 1946, and a fondue situation in 1873. In both cases, the vampires were rumored to have been instantly destroyed, ruining two dinner parties in the process. Most of us consider these events to be no more than myths. Muffin: Creappy. Still if there is a way to kill a vampire like that... Willy-Os: It would save time! Like no oven-preheating! And no running out to the store for last minute ingredients! Or those cute little umbrellas you put in drinks. Willy-Os: I liked those little 'brellas. Biles: If there is a way to slay vampiers like that, the Lysinda Circle vampire knows it, and might know about who is sabotaging you. And I fear that also puts him in danger. Muffin, gather the rest and figure out how to find him, and soon. Muffin: Alright people, we've got an emergency here! There is a vampire that we need to protect, if you can believe that! And we need to find him before the bad guys do. I don't have time to establish your characters and we have to move quickly! Muffin: You, Willy-Os, act cute! Willy-Os: Is this good? What if it's not cute enough? Muffin: Banter, say something sarcastic and/or sardonic! Banter: Why does Willy-Os always get to be the cute one? Muffin: Ugh, just drop in a syllable or two. Ugh: Cool. Muffin: And you, Ifeelya, be bitchy. Ifeelya: And what are you going to do, Muffin? Stop by the Salvation Army and trade up your fashion sense? Muffin: Nopers! I'm going to do my best to distortify the english languagism thingies. Muffin; I think we need a plan-type thingy. Banter: "Plan type thing?" I plan to major in plan type thingies! Willy-Os: I can plan! I need a computer, and some maps! Oh, and something I can draw little pictures on! Only I don't draw well. Ugh: Yeah. Ifeelya: I have a plan! Let's cast a spell that'll disintegrate all the nerds! Oh, wait! Then I'd be all alone. Biles: Have you all come up with a plan yet? Muffin: Planningness is in the air, Biles! Banter: I'm a freaking cup freakin' overfilling with planningness! Willy-Os: Not that it means we do have a plan... or that we don't... I don't know... Did I miss something? Ugh: Plan. Ifeelya: I "plan" on being in Dawson's Creæk next season. Anything is better than this junk! Willy-Os: Hey, you didn't say he sounds like a girl when he screams! Sam: Help! Banter: That's not fair! I was scared and... Oh! Your talking about that vampire. Willy-Os: I like bunnies. Bunnies are cute! Biles: It's him, Muffin! You have to protect him at all costs! Muffin: I'm on it! Ugh: Bunnies. Ifeelya: What kind of name is "Muffin"? Did you parents fork-split when you were a kid? Anon: Don't even try to fly off this time, Sam! Sam: Hey.. hey, guys... come on... Anon: Muffin! Muffin: Hey tall, dork, and evil! Looks like you could use some help! Sam: Um... ok, sure! Muffin: "Ok?" "Sure?" You're supposed to say something witty before we fight the bad guys! One line before and at least three witticisms during the fight! Sam: Ok, how about, "let me give you a hand!" Muffin: All right, plan B, Let's just bake some butt! Narr: We interrupt your regularly scheduled comic to bring you Phantom Menace: Special Report Anon 1: We are only two days away from the movie we've waited our whole life for! Anon 2: Of course, the added special effects were so disappointing in the 25th anniversary re-release of Star Wars, I'm anticipating The Phantom Menace to not live up to the hype. Anon 1: Trekker! Anon 1: There can be only one! Anon 2: Foul! Illegal movie quoting! Narr: This has been Phantom Menace: Special Report Kiki: Ooooh! A letter from Sam! Read it to me! Riff: I'm a little busy right now, Kiki. Kiki: Please? I like when you read with the funny voice! Riff: Kiki, don't you realize that Sam is a creature of the night whom I have vowed to destroy? Kiki: Oooh! That's the voice! Riff: Ok, let's see what it says here. The letter is titled: Riff: Muffin the Vampire Baker Part 2: Main Course -or- "Burnt Offerings" Kiki: Can I see the drawings? Riff: Kiki, just because it's in crayon doesn't mean there's drawings. Riff: Ok, Sam says: "Hi, Kiki! Looks like I finally have found a home. It's this place called the hell mouth. Lysinda used to talk it up a lot, said it was a cool vamp scene, so I finally got around to checking it out." Riff: "It turns out the local vamps are major wimps. They look ugly, they don't fly, and they turn to dust if you just poke 'em with a pencil. Oh, speaking of that, I met this chick named Muffin and we just wiped out a bunch of the wimp vampires!" Riff: "She's a real space case (I know, not my normal type), but she's a babe! And check this out! She's a vampire hunter who's been "baking" vampiers instead of "staking" them! You should have seen her face when I told her how mixed up she was!" Muffin: What!?! Riff: "That's all that's new with me! You have my address, write me back, love Sam." Kiki: Ooooh! Can we write him back? Riff: Stay here, Kiki. I'm going to go hand-deliver Sam a stake-o-gram. Kiki: Sat good, Riff! Stay good! Biles: I've found it! The problem lies in the translation of the ancient text the vampire bakers have used for years as their guide. The line "stake vampires through the heart!" was misinterpreted as "vampire steaks are good for the heart." Quite amusing! Biles: Um... Yes.. I understand your dismay, Muffin. Muffin: All these years! All those overnight marinades! All that oven sweat and onion tears! All those pans with caked on vamp-grease?! For what? Muffin: Because you pompous head chefs decided that a seven course vampire feast was needed when an appetizer-toothpick in the right place would do the trick! Muffin: Well, take the signpost down, Biles, because my cooking classes are closed. Make way for Muffy the girl who sticks wooden thingies into vampires! Muffin: Now, maybe we can find out who's trying to sabotage me. Faith: Maybe I can help, Muffin! Faith: Hi! I'm Faith! The new Vampire Baker in town. I just talked to Biles and found out you gave up the baking gig, "M"! Well stand back, because I can shake and bake with the best of... Faith: Yeeaaaaaaaah! Muffin: Someone rigged that ten ton weight to drop! Sam: Muffin, I think that was meant for you! Muffin: This is terrible, despite the fact that Faith was crushed. This means no one around me is safe. I have a feeling that my friends may be in danger! Muffin: Hi, Biles! Biles: Muffin, they... they took everybody! Muffin: What? Who? Biles: Banter, Willy-Os, all the major cast members except for your vampire boyfriend Angle who has been curiously absent from this parody! Muffin: Who are they? What do they want? Biles: Our friends will be deep-fat-fried alive if we don't rescue them. They left an address. Muffin: This could be a trap. Vampernutter: She is definitely being aided by the Lysinda vampire named Sam. Emerald Lasagna: We'll just have to bake them both. Let's get cooking. Muffin: Well, this is it, but I don't see anybody. Sam: Why the masks? Muffin: I don't know, it just makes me feel more sneaky! Emerald Lasagna: Well, if it isn't Bat-Sam and Muffin the girl baker. Sam: Emerald Lasagna? The wildly popular chef and ratings king of the Food-tv network? You're behind all this? Emerald Lasagna: My vampire chefs are here to teach you some real culinary lessons. Vampernutter! Bloody Mary! Meatball Parm! Emerald Lasagna: Limb-Burger! Skin-Pilaf! Teach these two how to kick it up a notch! Emerald Lasagna: This does not make me happy-happy. Narr: We interrupt your regularly scheduled comic to bring you Phantom Menace: Special Report Anon: And The Phantom Menace has taken the box-office by "force"! This comes as no surprise to anybody with average brains! Now when I mentioned the "force", it was not to be funny. In fact, I bring it up because the very nature of the force is that which is at the heart of those bastards who gave the movie poor reviews. Anon: What we all have to understand is, the "force" is not some fictional concept. It exists. The one thing which holds every living thing on this planet. The balance to our every movement. Have you ever asked yourself "what is this force?" Narr: This has been Phantom Menace: Special Report Anon: You look all gussied up to go hunting vampiers. Riff: Yeah, I'm heading to the hell mouth to track down a "friend". Anon: Yer pointed in the wrong direction, boy! That thar's the "Hell Bellybutton". Riff: They got vampires there? Anon: Naw, but th biggest lint-balls you've ever seen, I tell ya what! Riff: Ok, so how do I get to the Hell Mouth? Anon: Ahd tell ya, but thars an intro-panel and she's a'headen this way! Muffin: All right, Emerald, where are my friends? Emerald Lasagna: Sorry, Muffin, but if you don't let me go and quit baking vampires, you're going to have "country fried friends"! Muffin: Look, I don't know why you're defending vampires! I don't have all vampires, just the mean, evil ones! I mean, I'm even dating a vampire! Muffin: No, me an dSam aren't dating. My boyfriend Angle has been a vampire for hundreds of years. Emerald Lasagna: Let me get this straight, you're in high school and you're dating a hundred-year-old vampire? Who ordered the chicken statutory?" Bam! Muffin: The only thing I don't understand is why. Why did you try to kill me? Why are you trying to kill my friends? Emerald Lasagna: "Muffin the Vampire Baker" is one of the few cooking-based shows that beat my ratings! Knocking you out of the picture would make me happy-happy. Muffin: But I don't bake vampires any more! I drive wooden stakes through their hearts! Emerald Lasagna: Oh! Why didn't you just say so? Your friends are locked up in the old warehouse. Emerald Lasagna: You better hurry. There's a vampire there with orders to drop your friends into a vat of boiling oil at midnight exactly! Sam: My god! They'll drown! Emerald Lasagna: Yeah... sure... Now, if you will excuse me, I have an appointment with the cast of "Party of Fries" and "Deep Fat Nine." Anon: Still cain't fahnd yer way to the Hell Mouth? Riff: I won't be lost for long, now that I have a global positioning locator! It uses satellites to triangulate my exact position. Anon: Looks expensive. Riff: The satellites cost millions if that's what you mean. Now this thing shows that I am exactly... Riff: I don't know what's more fascinating. The detail the satellites are capable of, or the uselessness of the whole darn thing! Anon: Road map: $15.99 Narr: We interrupt your regularly scheduled comic to bring you Phantom Menace: Special Report Narr: Not to be left out of the merchandising frenzy for "Phantom Menace", we are proud to present a limited edition promotional piece which is functional as well! Be the first on your block to own the... Narr: Queen Amidala 2000! When Jedi Council Clean just ain't clean enough! Narr: So versatile! Narr: Made of solid wood with a head full of srubbing bubbles! Narr: Wookie hair in the sofa? No problem with the fabric brush attachment! Narr: If young Anakin had had the Brilla attachment to help with his chores, he might have stayed good Narr: Yoda used your bathroom? I don't care what you smell, get down there with the bowl attachment. Narr: And don't miss the Queen Amidala 3IPO push droom for sweeping the box offices! Narr: From the fine people who brought you Darth Mop Narr: This has been Phantom Menace: Special Report Banter: Hey there, Mr. Vampire sir? Do you think it would be possible to let us down? Preferably without having to change my name to "extra crispy"? Sam: You can change your name to "saved by Sam!" Banter: Yay! We're saved! Willy-Os: Sams's da man! Sams's da man! Ifeelya: Sams's da man! Sams's da man! Biles: Thanks to you, Sam, we'll be able to wipe out the vampire population and colse the Hell Mouth once and for all, no baking necessary. Of course, there is always the Hell Nose up state. We are only two moon cycles away from the Great Demon-sneeze, and the Holy Kleenex must be recovered from the bottom fo the Purse of Isis... Biles: Oh... um... Quite well done, Sam! Quite well done indeed! Muffin: You thinking of sticking around for a while? Maybe? Sam: I'd need a pad. Sam don't work without a pad. Muffin: Oh, I think we could work something... Sam: Look out! Angle: Muffin! I found a way I can become mortal! We can finaly be... Angle: Aaaaaah! Muffin: Angle!?! Muffin: Nooooooo! Angle! My only true love! Muffin: How.. how could you... Sam: Easy there, babe, I ....um Sam: Whoops. Willy-Os: This is going to hurt, but not in the good way.. not that I know of any good ways to be hurt! Banter: My watch isn't boiling-oil-proof! Ugh: Ouch. Ifeelya: You guys suck. Banter: Yaaaargh!!! Willy-Os: Yaaaargh!!! Ugh: Yaaaargh!!! Ifeelya: Yaaaargh!!! Sam: Hey... hey, guys... come on... Sam: Yikes! Later! Riff: No, Kiki, I haven't killed Sam yet. I can't find him. I give up, I'm coming home. Sam: Somewhere in the distance a word is said which catches my attention, "home". And once again I must give up a home because of the curse which made me a vampire. Poor Muffin could not understand, but after saving her friends and the entire town, it was time for me to go. Narr: Two days later... Riff: "There could be no future for us, and I had to make tough decisions, but that is my purposity. I hope to see you soon, Kiki!
-Sam Kiki: Ooooh! Sam is the man! Riff: Give me a break! "Purposity" isn't even a word!
Narr
Name
Zoë
Desc.
Coed, communications major.
Situation

Test drove Riff's time machine to the year 2000. The time machine was not "Y2K compatible".

Current Condition
Trapped in the past. Screwed!
Name
Torg
Desc.
Freelance web designer.
Situation

Test drove Riff's time machine to the year 2000. The time machine was not "Y2K compatible".

Current Condition
Trapped in the past. Screwed!
Name
Riff
Desc.
Freelance bum, inventor.
Situation

Accidentally trapped his friends somewhere in time, no idea how to bring them back.

Current Condition
All bummed out.
Name
Bun-Bun
Desc.
Official cute talking animal.
Situation

Blown up while trying to kill Santa Claus.

Current Condition
Unknown, presumed dead.
Narr
Name
Aylee
Desc.
Alien from another / secretary
Situation
Frozen in time and sold as a statue
Current Condition
Unknown.
Name
Gwynn
Desc.
Friends of Zoë, previous relationship with Riff
Situation
Possessed by the demon K'Z'K. Her soul was taken when the demon was exorcised and sent to the past
Current Condition
Soulless vegetable. Comatose.
Name
K'Z'K (Kizke)
Desc.
Demon. "The Soul Collector".
Situation
Unleashed on the earth but blasted into the past by Torg and Riff. Would have conquered the future, may still conqure the past.
Current Condition
Free.
Name
Kiki
Desc.
Riff's pet ferret. Easily distrac... Ooooh! What's that?
Situation
Currently poinging around Riff's lab and... ooooh! What's this?
Current Condition
Oooooh!
Kiki: Oooooh! I'm poinging 'round Riff's la-ab, I'm poinging 'round Riff's la-ab! Riff: No poinging, Kiki. This is very delicate work. I've got to get the time blaster working to power another time machine. Otherwise Torg and Zoë will never get home. Kiki: Why can't they come home on their own? Riff: They're lost in time, Kiki, and it's been weeks. If they could make their way back with any precision, they would have traveled back to the day they left. Riff: It's up to me. I'm the only hope they have. The flux agitator, the robot, the time machine, none of my inventions have worked right. But this time, Torg and Zoë's lives hang in the balance. I cannot fail this time! Failure is not an... Kiki: Oooh! The time blaster is working! See, it's on fire just like the time machine was! Kiki: You're not a failure, Riff! You build lots of cool stuff! Like the garage door opener! That worked perfectly! Riff: Aaaugh!!! Kiki: Ooooh! Kiki: Ooooh! See! That's another neat thing you made! Didn't you make me one like that before? Another toy that sparkle3d brightly and made loud interesting noises and then disappeared so that there was nothing left? Kiki: What was that called? Riff: That would be the garage. Anon: And we now return to the ghost to ghost conspiracy network and the night-shift drive-time talk-radio king, Art Belal. Here's Art. Art Belal: Welcome back to the Art Belal show. On our kookycard line we have Kenneth. Hello, Kenneth! Kenneth: Hi, Art! I called to expose a comspiracy! You know of S.E.T.I. right? Art Belal: SETI, the Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence Institute. Go on. Kenneth: They are actually a front for an alien race, known as the Golonpollops, who are planning an invasion! Kenneth: I'm amazed at the fact that nobody has noticed that if you move the letters around in the word "SETI", you get the word "invasion"! Kenneth: That's using the Gollonpollopian spelling of the word "invasion", of course. Art Belal: Your story has chilled me to the bone, Kenneth, for it rings so true. Shirley: And listen to this, Art! While we were being abducted by aliens, I clearly remember my hubby Abner saying "don't get yer panties in a bunch, Shirl!" And that was the last time I ever saw him. Art Belal: Your story has chilled me to the bone, Shirley, for it rings so true with what we already know. Because of the Y2K glitch, everybody's panties will be bunching up to truly uncomfortable levels. Art Belal: Everybody, that is, except for you listeners who are smart enough to stock up on Unclinch-a-Cinch, the Y2K panty-unbunching spray! And don't forget to pick up my new book, "Sit On It Potsie! and Other Cryptic Military Messages Embedded in Popular TV Shows!" Narr: Deep in the bowels of the Arizona desert lies a vast bomb shelter, now the secret lair of Art Belal. Every night he entertains his listeners with stories of government conspiracies, aliens, and monsters, and it has made him a wealthy man. Rarely does he allow visitors to his Fortress of Solitude. However, this visit from an executive of his parent company is a necessity. And so, the executive is given the customary master tour of some of Art's more interesting collectibles. Art Belal: Here we have robotic replicas of the brain aliens, a race believed to be plotting earth's destruction. Art Belal: This is a life size resin model of a doppleganger. According to German legend, it could assume another's form at will! Art Belal: And this is my prized possession. Although it billed as a larger than life Pokémon statue, I saw what it really was, an actual alien, frozen in time by some kind of random, temporal ray, waiting to be released at any moment! Anon 1: You think this is a real alien, Art? Art Belal: Ha-ha Anon 1: Ha-ha Anon 1: Every now and then I think you believe the kooky things you talk about on the radio. I forget that you're a business man first. Anon 2: Good lord! The xenomorph just swallowed Art Belal! Our plans are ruined! Anon 3: Damn it all! Dopely! Quick! Plan B! Anon 1: Huh? Anon 1: Art, did you just hear something odd? Art Belal: What did you hear? This place is supposed to be secure, but sinister forces are always out to get me. Art Belal: Ha-ha Anon 1: Ha-ha Anon 1: Let's go talk business, my friend! Aylee: I'm sorry! I don't know what happened! One second I was about to eat a guy who was trying to hurt my friend Torg, and then I'm suddenly here and I don't know where here is! I need to find my way home, Torg may still be in danger! Anon 3: You just ate Art Belal, the number one overnight talk-radio host. Do you know how long it took us to grow him? Now poor little orphan anaconda can't get home! Bite me, you over-grown... Anon 3: Oh, neat trick. Aylee: I'm not supposed to eat humans, but I got no rules against eating you, so, point me in the right direction home. Anon 2: I'd love to, but you just ate the left side of our brain, the one that handles all logic. I'm the abstract right side! Aylee: Oh darn. Anon 2: I think I'll go paint my emotions now! Oooh! Something shiny! Kiki: Want to play "hide your keys and go seek" with me? Riff: Since it's all my fault that I'll never see my friends again, I was thinking I might just sit here watching tv for the next few decades. Kiki: Oh, ok! Riff: Kiki's too innocent to understand what I'm going through. Bun-Bun's probably dead, Gwynn is in a coma, Torg and Zoë are lost in time... Riff: Dammit, what's the use of feeling sorry for yourself if nobody's around to appreciate the effort? Riff: Listen, Aylee. Unless you have technology from the future, I don't really have time to go running to Arizona to rescue you. Can't you find your own way home? Aylee: Art Belal's broadcast station is not a normal building! It's huge and confusing. I can't find any doors or stairs! Aylee: It's also really dark, and the locals are no help! Riff: I'm no help either. Art Belal, huh? I think I've heard his show before. Art Belal: ...morrow's live studio guest will be Dr. X, a man who claims to have come from a future where a demon named "Kizke" has taken over the world!... Riff: I'm on my way, Aylee! Aylee: Humans confuse the heck out of me. Anon: Don't get me started! Sniff! Riff: I'm off to Zrizona to find Aylee and Dr. X. He may be the key to rescuing Torg and Zoë. Don't touch anything while I'm gone. Kiki: Ok! Kiki: Actually, I'm going to go looking for Bun-Bun. He's been gone for so long! Kiki: Do you mind if I use the flying-suit you made for me before? I mean, if you don't mind me borrowing it, just don't say anything! Kiki: Yippee! Riff: Alright, Kiki, where are my keys! Kiki: I didn't touch nothing! Narr: While Riff heads off to Arizona to save Aylee, Kiki takes flight to find Bun-Bun, with but one thought on her mind: "Weeee! Loop-de-loop! Um, I mean... Ooooh! That's pretty bird! Darn, I have to pee! Sorry, ma'am! Um... I hope Bun-Bun is ok!" Narr: Meanwhile, in the Dimension of Pain... Psyck: Lord Horribus, I bring great news! We have a soul of one recently slain in an explosion. A soul from the land of Torg! Lord Horribus: A transdimensional soul? How rare! Psyck: He seemed mysteriously drawn to us! And what is more important, he has knowledge of Torg, the one who escaped us! Lord Horribus: Very well, bring the human to me. Psyck: But he is not a human, my lord! Lord Horribus: Do you think he can be of help to us? Psyck: Most definitely. I shall fetch him at once! Psyck: Lord Horribus! I present to you the one who has come to us, and is willing to help us reclaim Torg in exchange for revenge of his murder. I present to you... Psyck: Santa's elf, Mr. Squeeky-Bobo. Lord Horribus: You know of Torg, little elf? Squeeky-Bobo: I know his pet rabbit, Bun-Bun! See, Bun-Bun and my dear boss Santa Claus were having a little war. Santa blew up Bun-Bun, but didn't seem to mind the fact that I was still in the warehouse! I'll help you find Torg if you help me seek revenge on Santa! Squeeky-Bobo: I'd give anything to see that lard ass in pain-pain-pain-pain-pain! Lord Horribus: Patience, Elf! It might be some time before our attack, and do you not want revenge against this "Bun-Bun" as well? Squeeky-Bobo: Bun-Bun survived the explosion? That's impossible! Nothing could have survived! Molly: Mom, can I play with Mr. Fuzbutt yet? Ms. Bobolly: The vet says he still needs rest, Molly! Molly: Mom, can I not play with Mr. Fuzbutt 'cause he hurt his head? Ms. Bobolly: Head trauma, Molly. The vet thought he might have some... problems, but everything's ok, he's acting just like a normal bunny. He's been through a lot. Ms. Bobolly: Remember when you first found him, Molly? All broken and burned, no fur and on the verge of dying? Ms. Bobolly: Thanks to your love and compassion, Molly, Mr. Fuzbutt will be a healthy and happy bunny! Molly: He's boring. Can we trade him in for a ferret? Narr: Deep in the bowels of the Arizona desert lies a vast bomb shelter, now the secret lair of Art Belal. Every night he entertains his listeners with stories of government conspiracies, aliens, and monsters. Rarely does he invite visitors to his Fortress of Solitude, but in this case, the guest is uninvited, and not approving of the front door. Riff: Some super secret and secure lair! Oh well, nothing to stop me now. Riff: Egepfuh habigmuh hegchugob buh um mugmph.* Narr: * Translation: Except having my head chewed off by a monster! Aylee: So, you guys all run the Art Belal show? And you grow Art Belal in a tank? Dopely: Yeah, it's the sweetest deal! We make a fortune off of the freaks and weirdos who believe in monsters and aliens! Aylee: But you are monsters and aliens! Dopely: Doesn't make them any less weird and freaky! Anon 1: Look what I found snooping around! Aylee: Hi Riff! Riff: Hi, Aylee. Dopely: Is he a threat? Anon 1: Aggressive human male armed with a laser cannon and grenades. Not dangerous. Riff: I'm not dangerous? What do you guys consider dangerous? Dopely: Movies and video games, of course. Riff: I don't believe this! Why does everyone blame that stuff instead of... Anon 2: Guys! ...Guys! The widescreen edition of "The Sound of Music" is attacking Marty in sector D-29! Dopely: Damn it! It's always the widescreens that breach the perimeter! Dopely: We'll show you the way out if you promise to tell no one of our presence. Riff: As opposed to hunting you all down... Hmmm... Deal. Dopely: Ok, the way out is that way. Riff: You couldn't find that on your own? Aylee: Sure, it's easy to spot, now that someone's pointed it out. Aylee: We're not leaving yet? Riff: I need to talk with tonight's guest on the Art Belal show. This Dr. X may be our only hope of getting Torg and Zoë back home. Aylee: SOmething happened to Torg? Riff: I built a time machine using the Time Blaster Berk used on you. According to the book Dr. X is hawking, "The Future Coming of K'Z'K", he's the one who sent Berk back in time to begin with. Aylee: Berk is from the future? Riff: Look, we're running out of space for recapping here. Don't you have any simple questions? Aylee: What's a recap? Narr: After many watchful hours, Riff finally meets "Dr. X", a man who goes by the name of Schlock. After intros, Riff explains the situation. Irving Schlock: So, you not only used Berk's weapon against the demon, you also used it to power a time machine, albeit not that functional of one. Astounding. I suppose I owe you an explanation as to why I would travel from the future just to write a book. Irving Schlock: I figured whether Berk succeeded or not, the world as I knew it was done, and my death sasured if I stayed in it. So after sending him back, I sent my self back twenty years before K'Z'K's arrival, to spend the rest of my life in peace. I'm only selling my book, "The Future Coming of K'Z'K", to prepare people, just in case. Riff: Yeah, but Kizke was supposed to take over in February, so this book would have been out too late to help anybody. Irving Schlock: ...that and the fact that my 1998 World Series gambling money dried up. That was the last World Series we had before the demon made Boccie-Ball the national pastime. Riff: Dr. Schlock, if you won't help me, I just need some future technology I can analyze. Then I can build another time machine. Riff: Sorry sonny, I haven't been a scientist in 20 years, and I didn't bring any technology back with me. Gotta run, I'm due on the "Really Much Later Show". Riff: Hey! Irving Schlock: All right, even though you maliciously destroyed my hover-car with that laser cannon, and you imperiled my life, I may help you build another time machine. Irving Schlock: But I do this on one condition, and one condition only. This is not negotiable. Riff: Ok, shoot. Irving Schlock: Don't let it eat me! Riff: Quit kicking Aylee's tonsils or she might sneeze you in half. Timmy: Your rabbit is boring. He sucks. Molly: Timmy, check this out! I found it in the Halloween box! Molly: A switchblade comb! Timmy: Yeah, terrific. Let's see what's on tv. Timmy: Whoa, cool! He just freaked out! Molly: Mom says Mr. Fuxbutt's sick. Maybe I should call her if he spazes out again! Timmy: Hey look! Baywatch is on! Molly: Mom! Molly: I think it's the switchblade-comb that's making Mr. Fuzbutt freak out. Timmy: That rabbit sucks. And keep it down, I'm trying to watch Baywatch here. Ms. Bobolly: Molly? Timmy? I'm home! Timmy: Your mom is back? She just left a half hour ago! Molly: I don't know! Molly: Mom! What are you doing home? Ms. Bobolly: They let me work from home today, honey. Ms. Bobolly: This way I'll be able to spend more time with you! Molly: Oh... Terrific... Ms. Bobolly: You're not watching grown-up tv in there, are you Timmy? Timmy: No, Ms. Bobolly. Ms. Bobolly: And be nice to Mr. Fuzbutt, honey. Molly: Yes, mom. Ms. Bobolly: Hello, is a... Mrs...... Conner home? Ms. Bobolly: Hi, Mrs. Conner. I'm with your Viser card company, and we would just like to sign you up for our sherbet of the month insurance. Anon: And we now return to Baywatch. Ms. Bobolly: I understand, Mrs. Conner, but the first month is free! Anon: Mitch, you can't save all those kids without a flotation device! Ms. Bobolly: After that your card will be billed a low $99.95 per month, so I'll just sign you up... Anon: I'll be your flotation device, Mitch! Ms. Bobolly: I understand that ma'am, but sherbet protection is important. Anon: I can't let you risk that, April. Run briskly back to the lifeguard stand and get my harpoon gun! Ms. Bobolly: And your children will be covered as well, so I'll just... Bun-Bun: Where the @#$%ing @$%# am I?!?!?! Ms. Bobolly: Where on earth did you learn that lang... Ms. Bobolly: ...guage... Bun-Bun: Looks to me like a telemarketer needs a comb-over. Ms. Bobolly: Yearrrgh! Bun-Bun: I can't believe that I was hopping around like a brain-dead jerk... Molly: You're not going to make us drown, are you, Mr. Fuzbutt? Ms. Bobolly: Molly! Shhhh! Bun-Bun: Call me that name one more time, sweetheart, please. Ms. Bobolly: Look, I don't know what you are or how you managed to get that tank of water into my living room or... Bun-Bun: The water-tank was no problem. Finding the Rio São piranhas was tough! Bun-Bun: Get back in there, punchy. Ms. Bobolly: Listen, we tried to help you! We weren't the ones who blew you up! Bun-Bun: Yeah... Who was it ... ... ...Santa! Bun-Bun: What am I doing wasting time with Dweeby and the Dweebersons? I got a bowl full of jelly to bust wide open! Later. Timmy: Mr. Fuzbutt is cool! Molly: Can we keep him? Ms. Bobolly: You are both in serious "time-out"! Grahammy: I don't know where Santa is, Bun-Bun! Nobody does! When he couldn't find your body, he split! It's like he fell off the face of the earth! Bun-Bun: You're not holding out on me, are you Grahammy? Narr: Meanwhile, in orbit, far above the earth... Santa Claus: Next time, Bun-Bun. Next time... Riff: I guess it was pretty hard to live in a demon controlled world. Irving Schlock: In biblical times, plagues of locusts were considered punishment from god. But the human mind cannot fathom anything more horrific than a plague of demons. Irving Schlock: Oh, a flying ferret! Irving Schlock: Ok, I stand corrected. I just fathomed something worse. Riff: Did you say "flying ferret?" Kiki: Bun-Bun!?! I found you! I knew I could ! Bun-Bun: Yeah, wow! What's the chance of you finding me? Kiki: We're friends so I knew my heart would lead me to you! Bun-Bun: That, and the fact that we're hime, potato-brain! Kiki: eep! Bun-Bun: Of course the fact that she found her way home is fairly impressive. Kiki: Owie! Kiki: Ooooh! A quarter! Riff: So, Doc, how did you lose that eye? A demon? Irving Schlock: No, actually, it was... Irving Schlock: ...subject: 38AD-3un-5! Bun-Bun: Subject: Jerkface idjit! Riff: I see you've met, and what's this? Kiki, didn't I tell you the ferret-wings were off limits? Kiki: I'm sorry! Irving Schlock: I feel faint... Catch me... Bun-Bun: Hey, Doc. You look older without your makeup. Riff: Stay good, Kiki. Kiki: I'm sorry! Irving Schlock: Thank god this jagged pile of recyclables broke my fall! Narr: 1997 Narr: Day 1 of Bun-Bun testing Irving Schlock: 11-5-97, Dr. Schlock acting. Subject: 38AD-3UN-5. Today I will be testing the effects of formula 3Y35 mascara and eyeliner. Due to its slightly radioactive nature, it may kill the specimen. Bun-Bun: Meanwhile, I'll be testing the accuracy of the redlight-sight on my Glock. Irving Schlock: Bun Bun, what happened between us was a long time ago. Longer for me than you I suppose. Let's start over, shall we? Bun-Bun: Sure, pallyù Put it there! Aylee: Bun-Bun, we need Dr. Schlock. Please let him out of the cage. Bun-Bun: Can't. I've got a lot more experiemnts that need a lab-rat. Irving Schlock: Could I have some more nutrient enriched alfalfa pellets please? Aylee: Riff needs Dr. Schlock's help to rescue Torg and Zoë! You have to let him out! Bun-Bun: I'm in a bad mood, zucchini-face! If you want to go again, bring it on! Riff: Bun-Bun? Is that a comb? Bun-Bun: That's it! You're all on my $#!& list! I'm outta here. Kiki: Yaaaay! Bun-Bun's back and Aylee's back and Dr. Schmuck's back and... Irving Schlock: The name is Schlock! Kiki: Oh, sorry! Kiki: Dr. Smlock is back and... Riff: ...and Kiki is getting back to the corner because she's being punished. Irving Schlock: That ferret looks familiar... One of Dr. Crabtree's test subjects? Impossible. Stop trying to scare yourself, old man, you're paranoid enough as it is. Irving Schlock: All right then. Let's begin our task of building a time machine with which to rescue your friends. We will start with your lab. Show me the remains of the time blaster. Riff: This way. Riff: It's not so much a lab as it is a workshop, and it's probably low key compared to what your used to. Irving Schlock: So far I've seen a flying ferret that sings, been accosted by a rabbit wielding hair-care products, and been almost swallowed by that big... green... whatever that thing was, (speaking of which I want to talk to you about that thing in the future), I am sure your "workshop" will be no major concern. Irving Schlock: Gah! Riff: My workshop is that bad, huh? Irving Schlock: No. I had blueprints for a mind control device in my pocket and I just realized Bun-Bun took it. Is this as big a problem as I think it is? Riff: Well, I got the blueprints back from Bun-Bun. Even though he was asleep, I still nearly died in the process. Irving Schlock: But think of how much worse the alternative would be! Riff: Except it wasn't blueprints for a mind control device. In fact it wasn't blueprints at all. It's an autographed photo of the women of Baywatch. Irving Schlock: Ok, so I lied. I knew you wouldn't get it back for me unless I made it sound more important. You have no idea how much that photo means to me. Riff: And it's my autographed photo of the women of Baywatch. Irving Schlock: And don't think I haven't appreciated your gesture of friendship. Irving Schlock: So, I hear Bun-Bun went back to find his knife. Riff: Yeah, I think the switchblade-comb just wasn't up to par. Riff: He used to say "do you want it in the head or the gut?" Now he says "do you part it in the middle or on the side?" Irving Schlock: He only "brushed" us off because he's having a "bad hare" day! Riff: Aaaaugh! Irving Schlock: We didn't mean it, Bun-Bun! We didn't mean it! Dear god, please... Kiki: Look! I found Mr. Socklop in Torg's bedroom! Riff: Kiki, get back in the corner. Narr: Amidst the rubble of the destroyed warehouse... Bun-Bun: At last! Fluffy: You're the king! Fluffy: The king! The king! Bun-Bun: What's with the Camelot crap? I'm king of the rabbits now? Anon: No, Fluffy is nuts and thinks you're Elvis. Fluffy: The Big Bopper! Bun-Bun: What do you Easter rabbits want? Bitsy Bunny: You are our new boss. It is the right of caste. You have killed the Easter Bunny, so now you must become the Easter Bunny! Bun-Bun: Fine, you're all fired. Anon 1: Yay! Anon 2: weee! Anon 3: Whoo hoo! Anon 4: Hurray! Anon 5: Yay! Anon 6: Seeya! Bun-Bun: Dumb-asses. Irving Schlock: Ok, we have done enough ressearch and preparation. We can now build the time machine. Riff: That's it? All you had to do was press a button? Irving Schlock: Yes, inflatable technology was revolutionized in the year... Irving Schlock: Oopsie! Wrong box. Here we are... Irving Schlock: The inflatable time machine is ready to go! Riff: Ok, Doc! I suppose we need to be careful with... Riff: Aylee! Get away from that! Aylee: Eek! Kiki: Oooh, fireworks! Irving Schlock: Ah! I see we're back to square one, again! Riff: You know, Torg and Zoë might be happy where they are. Maybe we should take that into consideration. Torg: My name is Torg, and I'm a prisoner. Torg: A demon named Kizke took my friend Gwynn, and then took my hand. Torg: So I traded up for a chainsaw. Torg: I managed to blast Kizke into the past using the Book of E-Ville.... Torg: ....but it took me with it. Zoë: That's not how it happened! Torg: Who's telling this story? Anon 1: She's right. You don't have a chainsaw for a hand. Torg: You don't even know what a chainsaw is, buddy! Anon 1: Unless the word "chain-saw" means "hands like a lady" Torg: Hey! Zoë: Torg, quit the Hollywood embellishing and tell it straight. Torg: Whatever. We are from the future. We had this time machine, and it malfunctioned and sent us here instead of the year 2000. Anon 1: Oh, this version is believable. Torg: Ok, how about: "We're from a far away land sent here by leprechauns." Anon 1: Whatever. Torg: There were men on horses waiting for us, like we're expected. Torg: Out of nowhere, masked riders scooped us up and rode off with us. Sighard Lionson: Kill the Mercians! Osric: Be careful, King Sighard! You might hit the "Storm Breaker"! Sighard Lionson: Osric, you forget your place. Did your prophecy include her befriending my mortal enemy? Consorting with the warlord of Mercia? Sighard Lionson: Fire! Zoë: Torg! Torg: Zoë! Anon 2: He's trying to leap from the horse! Has he gone daft? Anon 3: Careful how you refer to our ruler. We must bring him home! Anon 4: They have eluded us, my king. Sighard Lionson: At least I have this to vent my anger upon! Osric: She is the Storm Breaker! As foretold she will do battle with the demon Kizke who plagues our land! Sighard Lionson: This beggar woman will do battle with the executioner's axe! Torg: As soon as I realized that my abductors mistook me for their leader, I thought I could order them to rescue Zoë as well...... but it was too late. Magon Coifer: This is not the warlord of Mercia, fool! Anon: Advisor Magon, are you sure? Do my eyes deceive me? Are the rumors true that our leader is dying in bed? Magon Coifer: You say the entire camp believes he is our lord? Anon: Only we two know he is not. I should.... erk! Torg: Hey Ming! Let me guess: skull-cap, fu-man-chu mustache, just stabbed a buddy in the back for knowing too much.... bad guy, right? Magon Coifer: I prefer the term "morally challenged". Magon Coifer: I am Magon Coifer, advisor to the warlord of Mercia. Our ailing warlord has been bedridden for many months and tensions are rising with the Trents. You will pretend to be our lord to renew the morale of our people. Torg: Look, I'd love to help you, really, but I've got to find my friend! Magon Coifer: If yu don't, I won't like you. Torg: I'm sorry, Mr. Coifer, but I really have to... Magon Coifer: I liked him a lot. Torg: Um... Lead on, my advisor! Osric: Even if you are right and the man with you was not the warlord, there is no point trying to find him. If he is not one of theirs they will have already killed him. Zoë: I didn't do anything wrong! I'm not from Trent or Mercia. I just want to find my friend and get out of here! Osric: We need to keep you here, and we need to keep you safe. You are the Storm Breaker, and we need you to defend us from the demon! Zoë: You're keeping me in this cage to keep me safe? Osric: Actually, its just a place to hld you until the king chops your head off. Osric: You know, I just realized this might be a problem. Zoë: I don't think a headless demon-hunter is going to be much help unless the demon is really squeamish. Torg: I can do this "warlord" gig, but you have to help me find Zoë. Magon Coifer: If the Trents took her after she was seen in your presence, she's probably already dead. But I'll see what my agents can find out. Magon Coifer: For now, you have a duty to lead your army, and protect your lady. Valerie: And who have you brought me, advisor Magon? Magon Coifer: Lady Valerie, may I present the warlord of Mercia, Torgamous de Saxones! Valerie: My word! He could be a very mirror of my husband! Torg: The love of my life stood before me. I thought I would never see her again. I was ready for her to leap into my arms. Valerie: Get the peasant a beard and a cot in the servants' chamber. Well done Magon. Torg: Ok, so maybe it'd be a little work before the leaping. Anon: You expect me to believe you used to date lady Valerie of Mercia in the past? Torg: My past, her future... Anon: Enough with the future crap! Unless you want a plot-hole in your story big enough to ride a horse though, you'll give me an explanation that my readers will accept! Torg: Hmmm... reincarnation? Anon: Never heard of it. Torg: She's immortal? Anon: Blasphemy! Torg: The honest "future" thing? Anon: Bull kaka. Torg: I love her and she loves me but she just doesn't know it yet? Anon: Aha! Perfect! Anon: "And then the great Torg admitted to me that he was a depraved stalker" Torg: Can we get another bard? Torg: Before long, I was giving my first speech as the warlord. Torg: Dear, dear people of Mercia. I'm sorry I've been away for so long. I've been traveling across this great land of ours. Crowd: All hail warlord Torgamous! All hail! Torg: And I saw how fat and lazy you have all become! Living like kings, while my castle is in shambles! I shall not have it! All taxes are to be doubled! You will not get away with making a fool or lord Torgamous de Saxones! Begone from my sight, worms! Torg: Can I be a warlord, or can I be a warlord? Anon: Drop the boiling oil on the crowd now, milord? Torg: Naw, most of them stormed out of the square anyway. Narr: Mercia Torg: I tried your warlord gig, obviously it ain't working. I'm through here, gotta find Zoë. Don't try to stop me Maggy. And where the hell is my hat and goggles? Magon Coifer: I have grave news for you. Your friend, Zoë, is dead. Zoë: What?!? Magon Coifer: My spies confirm she was executed as a traitor. All that remains of her is this solitary finger. A cruel memento my spies managed to steal. Torg: It can't be! Poor Zoë, I wasn't there for her! I'll treasure this finger always. I guess there is no reason for me to leave now. Anon 1: Hey Luther, what happened to your pinky? Luther: Traded it for this neat-o hat! I just used that finger to scratch my butt anyway. Narr: Trent Osric: Put these on. He wants you to appear as odd as you did when we found you. You may take this strange club of yours if you wish. Zoë: Lot of good this does me empty. Why make a spectacle out of me? Why not just kill me outright? Osric: The king is a... proud man. When the evil started to befall the commoners on the fringes of Trent, he felt shamed at being unable to stop it. The prophecy of the Storm Breaker troubled him, for there was no roon in it for him to be the hero. Osric: He now sees the opportunity to prove the Storm Breaker prophesy a jest. He feels your appearance will lend to his falsehood that you are a Mercian gypsy spy. Osric: I'm sorry about this. I've done everything I could. Zoë: I think I've got one more shot. Anon 2: The court of King Sighard Lionson of the Trents will hear from the wise advisor Osric. Sighard Lionson: Yes dear, Osric, tell us how the evil that plagues the land is the storm, and how this woman... this beggar gypsy woman... this gypsy who beds with the warlord Torgamous himself!... will save us lowly warriors of Trent from the demon? Osric: King Sighard, I tell you it is true. I have been advisor since your father sat in that throne, and if my words hold any value, you will not execute our last hope against the demon, Kizke. Sighard Lionson: We face an evil which twists my subjects into monsters and rises our very dead against us. I do not have the luxury of wasting time with this nonsense. I judge her guilty. To the executioner's block. Sighard Lionson: Executioner? Anon 3: Sig Anon 3: Sigar Sigharg Sighard! Sighard Lionson: Foul monster! Osric: Do you not see? Do you not hear? Osric: She can call down the tunder to smite the unrighteous! She speaks with the words of god! Osric: She is the Storm Breaker! And she shall save the Trents from evil! Valerie: Magon, you traitorous maggot! You've been instructing that peasant to grind our people into the dirt! Magon Coifer: He has to be firm if the people are to believe he actually is lord Torgamous. Valerie: My husband was never so cruel! How you must covet our power. If this is the way you would rule, then thank god you come from such a low family! If not for the secrets you know, I would have had you imprisoned! Be gone! Torg: Hey Maggy! Looks like Val is smashing vases again. Magon Coifer: She was just expressing happiness over your new order for the appropriation of farmlands for the new castle. Torg: Oh! I guess she must have really liked my idea about banning public gatherings! Magon Coifer: I'm so proud! Torg: Look, Maggy, I'm trying my best to be a good warlord, but I just don't like having to be mean all the time! Magon Coifer: But you have done excellently! Your only flaw is that you lack the poise of a true warlord. We shall practice. Up ahead is the gypsy seer whom lady Valerie confides in. Let us practice your formal greeting. Magon Coifer: Lord Torgamous, may I present to you the gypsy seer Lysinda. Lysinda: My lord. Torg: It was Lysinda, vampire queen, pretending to be a simple gypsy fortune teller. I realized two things; that we were all in great danger, and that I had a chance, a real chance, to change the future. To save Valerie. As she looked at me, I could feel her studying me. I wondered if she knew I recognized her for what she was. Magon Coifer: This is not poise! Lysinda: Magon Coifer, why do you watch Lady Valerie from the shadows. Magon Coifer: I have no time for you, gypsy wench. Lysinda: The lady believes you are telling the false lord to do the things you wish, allowing you to rule in proxy. Magon Coifer: She tells you such things? Lysinda: I believe differently. You are ordering the false lord to be unjustly cruel, so the rebellion you are funding, with the increased taxation, will gather the support of the people and place you on the throne of Mercia. Lysinda: It would mean Valerie would lose her empire, and I have plans for her. This might ruin those plans. Lysinda: And we can't have that. Torg: Magon was found in a thousand pieces the next day. It was Lysinda who did it, and I knew that nobody would believe me. Valerie was only safe until sundown. I was done playing "warlord". The beard was making my face itch anyway. It was time to make tough decisions. It was time to throw caution to the wind... It was hero time. Valerie: What are you doing here? Torg: What I should have done a long time ago! Torg: Um, sorry about the beard-glue. Can we talk about this? Valerie: Not with your throat slit, peasant! Anon: Hey, guard? Guard! Lady Valerie is in danger! You have to let me out! Besides, I think my cell mate is dead! Anon: Just died a minute ago! Torg: Kizke.... Anon: Our master's name is K'Z'K! No vowels! Torg: Yeah, you look like enunciation is big on your list of pet peeves. Anon: Ugh!... Sarcasm's my other one. Anon 1: Master K'Z'K, why not just destroy them all? K'Z'K: Sure, my army could crush the Trents and the Mercians combined, but it's neater to watch the mortals fray around the edges. Such discontent causes more of them to grant me their souls so I can spend my time taking others! Why I... well I'll be! Torg!!! K'Z'K: If Torg is here, Riffy can't be too far behind! I wonder how they got here! Torg: Toh-may-toe! Anon 2: Toh-mot-toe K'Z'K: Probably followed me to finish me off! Ha! Fat chance of that unless they... Uh oh... K'Z'K: Send a division immediately! I want every soul in Mercia castle dead by morning! Narr: Lair of K'Z'K Anon 1: A hundred deadels are now slaughtering all who dwell within the castle of Mercia. K'Z'K: Good, but I have a more important job for the rest of my army. There is one thing in this world which can be used to stop me. We must find it before anyone else does. Anon 1: What, master? What is it? Narr: Trent Osric: The Book of E-Ville? Zoë: That's what was used to allow Kizke access to our reality. If you expect me to fight a demon, this is the only lead we have. Osric: We are in wondrous luck! I believe we have the very tome of which you speak in the library! Zoë: Wow! Glad we don't have to do some dangerous quest to get the book! Osric: You've never seen our library. Narr: Mercia dungeon Anon: Rar! Anon: Nuts Torg: Luther! You're here to let me out? Luther: Hell no! I'm locking myself in! Those monsters are all over the place! They're killing everyone! Torg: Fine, you stay here, but I need your sword. Luther: Knock yourself out, buddy! Torg: Val needs me! Boy, that hat looked familiar! Luther: That guy looked familiar! Torg: As I climbed the dungeon stairs, the sounds of monster howls and human screams grew louder. As I closed on the passageway to Val's chamber, they grew louder still. And then, as I rounded the corner, the turmoil rolled away like a distant storm. Torg: It was instantly apparent what had happened. Lysinda wanted Valerie for herself, and no man, woman, nor demon would get in the way of her plans. I had no time to worry about her now. Valerie: Guards! Help! Help! Torg: Lady Valerie! What is it? What's wrong? Valerie: You?... You were able to defeat all these monsters? Valerie: I need you now, or a fiend will kill my husband! Torg: I... um... Valerie: Help him, please! Torg: I looked down at the man who collapsed in my arms, and the face that stared back at me was not the face of a warlord, it was my own face. He was not a mirror of me, he was me. Torg: Only this me was sweaty, oily, and stinky. Torg: Oh god! Is this guy, like, contagious or something? Valerie: My poor husband has been weak like this for many months! Torg: This demon attack is only the beginning! We need to stop Kizke or the world will end. The only way I know to do it is to use "The Book of E-Ville!" Valerie: I know of that book! It was in my family for generations! Trent raiders stole it from my family years ago. Torg: Maybe we can get it back then. Valerie: You are very noble! You saved our lives without any asking for reward, and now seek to save the world. To think I have been calling you "peasant" this whole time. I do not even know your name! Torg: Oh, it's... ah... um... "Pheasant!" Valerie: "Pheasant the peasant?" Torg: I'm not very creative. Valerie: Neither were your parents to name you that! Torg: War? You want me to go to war? Torgamous de Saxones: It is the only way... Valerie: Rest my husband. Valerie: Pheasant, please listen. The Trents killed your friend. They have the book you need to save the world from the demon! And because of your past "leadership", our people are near revolting! Torg: Revolting? Some of 'em are downright cute if you don't look too close at their teeth! Valerie: They need a victorious battle to restore faith in the realm, and you need the book! Torg: But, I mean, isn't war a bit extreme? Valerie: Extreme? You're supposed to be a warlord! That means you go to war whenever it suits your needs. Torg: Can I change my title to "keglord"? How about "Salma-Hayek-lord"? Boy, I'm in a wacky mood today! Torg: I know the people think I'm the warlord of Mercia, and you want me to publicly declare war on the Trents, but I can't. I know you guys think war is no big deal, but it will mean the death of hundreds of people. Torg: People who had nothing to do with Zoë's death or stealing the book. If the Trents started it, that would be different. But I won't be responsible for starting a war, I can't have that on my conscience. Valerie: So now what do we do? Torgamous de Saxones: Don't worry, I've sent a letter. Anon: My King, it's from warlord Torgamous. It says "your mustache smells like parmesan." Sighard Lionson: This means war! Osric: We searched the library for many days and now we have found it! We have the Book of E-Ville! Zoë: This place is so stupid it makes me want to run screaming at the top of my lungs! That wasn't a library! It was just a huge pit you threw all your books in! Osric: You should see our child care center! Osric: Behold, King Sighard! Sighard Lionson: Ahhh! I see you have found the book. With this book and the Storm Breaker at my side, nobody could defeat our army! We march to destroy Mercia in the morning. Zoë: We've gone to war? Why? Sighard Lionson: They made fun of my mustache odor. Zoë: Yeaaaaaa Sighard Lionson: What speed the Storm Breaker has. She'll make a fine addition to my army! Osric: Did you just say something, my king? Osric: Why have we returned to this strange carriage of yours? Zoë: If I'm going to be at this stupid war, I'm damn sure gonna be bringing enough shotgun shells. I keep in the back of the army, right? Narr: Meanwhile, in Mercia: Torg: I keep in the back of the army, right? Valerie: If I didn't know you defeated a hundred monsters single handedly, I'd say you looked afraid to lead our army into battle. I think it is that you ahve never commanded a large army before. Torg: If I tell Val that I'm from the future, or about Lysinda, she'll think I'm insane! I have lead armies before, at least in computer games. Maybe this is my chance to impress her enough to gain her trust. Torg: Alright, we'll need some of the townsfolk to chop down trees, mine for gold, and set up solar collectors in case we need to build more troops. Do we have any dragons yet? Valerie: Why are the cute ones always insane? Torg: I shall be victorious, Lady Valerie! Valerie: You have defeated a hundred monsters, I have no doubt you will destroy the Trents. Anon: Lord Torgamous just fell on his sword! He's... Torg: No... no I didn't, close call though, whew! Easy there, horsy! Torg: For Medicia!!! Crowd: For Mercia Torg: Um, yeah, I meant "Mercia"... Whoa, wrong way, horsy! Sighard Lionson: Let the blood of the Mercians run like rain! Torg: Get Bent, Trents! Kick ass! Torg: Zoë? Zoë: Torg? Torg: Zoë! K'Z'K: Howdy-ho neighbors! Could we borrow the Book of E-Ville, and all of your souls? Don't get up, we'll help ourselves! Zoë: Torg, I thought you were dead! Torg: I didn't believe it when they told me you were dead, but they had your severed finger for proof! Zoë: That's not my finger! Torg: It's not? Zoë: You think that's what my pinky looks like? Do you think I have hairy knuckles? Zoë: I've been having the weirdest time! Torg: Mine's weirder! Zoë: They think I'm the prophesized one who will defeat Kizke and save the world! Torg: I'm pretending to be Val's husband and Lysinda is lurking around my castle. Zoë: You win. Torg: And let's not forget I'm wearing a rotting finger around my neck. Torg: The war was borrible. I'd never seen anything like that war. It was brutal enough, but every man we lost became one of the deadles. Our armies shrunk, while Kizke's expanded. It was only a matter of time. Torg: Zoë, save those shots for the big guys. I can take care of the grunts! Zoë: Wow! How'd you get that good with a sword, Torg? Torg: Sword-fighting was part of my crash-course warlord training. Plus I used to take fencing when I was younger. Anon 1: You'll be wanten to return that fence to Mrs. Jones place, now wontcha boy-o? Anon 2: I don't get it. Torg: That was a pun! It's funny! Anon 2: I'm sure your dramatic recounting of the war will bring tears to my readers' eyes. Torg: We can't win this! We're losing, bad! Zoë: We have to leave! We have to get the book away from here! Torg: The Book of E-Ville is here? On the battlefield? We can't risk Kizke getting his hands on it! Zoë: Osric! Where is the book? Osric: Don't panic, it's around here somewhere. Sighard Lionson: I, King Sighard Lionson of the Trents, am the Storm Breaker of the prophesy, and I hold the Book of E-Ville! Osric: Commence simultaneous panic on my mark... Sighard Lionson: Hear my words, Kizke! I am king of the Trents, and I am the Storm Breaker! K'Z'K: Oh no! Not the "Breaker of Wind," who is destined to take me out? And it's K'Z'K! No vowels! Why do you morons insist on putting vowels in everything? Sighard Lionson: I hold the Book of E-Ville, and I shall use it to send you back to hell where you belong! Sighard Lionson: What the hell kind of language is this? Anon: It's the ancient words of magic, my king! Sighard Lionson: Well it's stupid. SOmebody get me a Book of E-Ville I can read! Do I have to do everything? Why is everyone else so stupid? Sighard Lionson: Aaaah! Anon: I have the book, master! K'Z'K: Go, my pet! Fly as long and as far as you can, pass oceans, and oceans after that! Go where no human lives, to the depths of the darkest parts of the world! And hide the book so centuries will pass before it is found! K'Z'K: Farther you idiot! K'Z'K: Is it me? Zoë: The Book of E-Ville is gone. Osric: There is always the Book of Güd... Torg: What? A Book of Good? Osric: "The Book of Güd". Other books by the same author include "The Book of Bhad", "The Book of Uhglëë",... Torg: We need that book, and we need it now! Osric: Yu are the warlord of Mercia! If you abandon your army now, they will crumble beneath the demon's forces, and Mercia will fall soon after. Are you sure you wish to accompany us on the long journey to get the book? Torg: I'm not... I don't know what to do! Zoë: If we don't stop Kizke now, what future will any of us have? Torg: This battle is already over. Valerie, I'm sorry. I let you down again. Torg: Let's go. Anon 1: We heard that the earth opened up and swallowed both armies, with no survivors. Yet, somehow, you three just walked away from the war unscathed. Osric: There were a few other survivors, we do not lie. Torg: Once K'Z'K had the Book of E-Ville, he didn't care about the war anymore, so we did just walk off the battlefield. Anon 1: So, why stop on your noble quest to share your tale with a lowly bard in an unnamed tavern? Zoë: Osric says that you'll give us information in exchange for our stories. Anon 1: What kind of information? Osric: We are seeking the Book of Güd. According to our research, it is the antithesis to the Book of E-Ville, and can be used to destroy the demon who plagues our land. Anon 1: And for that, you need to find the hermit-warrior of Ascetia. He is the only one who knows the way to the Cave of Yffi, in which lies the Book of Güd. Osric: That is our quest, yes. Anon 1: And you think I know how to find him. Osric: That is what we have heard. Anon 1: This story is not worth making a song out of for any bard, let alone one of my caliber! Torg: That's it! This bard is useless! Let's go. Anon 1: My god! You'd look just like the warlord of Mercia if you had a beard! Torg: Yeah, that was sort of a big part of the story. Weren't you paying attention? Sighard Lionson: Howdy-do! I'm Sighard, King of Trent, and I'm kere to break a Storm-Breaker! Hey! There's one! Anon 2: Run! Anon 3: Eek! Anon 1: The King of the Trents a puppet of the demon? All you have told me is true? Everything? Torg: Of course it's true! If you didn't believe it, why did you write it all down? Anon: I didn't! See, I've just been trying to layout some landscaping. A koi pond would just make the yard perfect. Torg: It'll be a pain to maintain. Why not build an arbor there? Get some shade on those hot summer days. Zoë: Guys! Torg: Stay! Sighard Lionson: Don't be snippy, missy! Osric: Watch your words! Kizke can hear and see through his monsters. Anon 1: But... but that is the King of the Trents! Torg: Not any more. Osric: Bard, can you help us find the man we seek? Torg: Are you in or out? Anon 1: I'm in. I can help. Anon 1: And could you all start this story over from the beginning? Osric: I worry for Torg and the bard. I do not think they appreciate the danger. Zoë: They know the drill. "To find the Cave of Yffi, one must bring a worthy gift to the Hermit-Warrior of Ascetia". Osric: If the gift is deemed worthy, he will grant us the map to the Cave of Yffi. If not, their heads will be sent back to us! Zoë: They went to the "carriage" which brought me and Torg here. There is a lot of stuff in there from the future. Zoë: I'm sure something like the lava-lamp or the camera will be worthy enough for this guy! Osric: It would have to be a wondrous device indeed to astoud the Hermit-Warrior! The Hermit-Warrior of Ascetia: Here's the map to the cave! I think I need to be alone right now! Anon: Hey, can I keep the other one? Torg: "Nude Women of Suicide Badminton"? No way? You're not worthy! Torg: We have the map and we're on our way to get the Book of Güd to undo the evil of Kizke. It dont' get much better than this. Zoë: Torg, you realize Riff isn't going to just appear in a time machine to take us home. Torg: Yeah, if he could have he would have already. I guess we are stuck here for now. Zoë: Do you think he's given up? Torg: Come on, you know Riff! I guarantee he's trying to rescue us. Maybe he just needs a little luck. Zoë: Well if luck is all he needs, I'm wishing him a ton of it. Riff: Read them and weep, gentlemen. Straight flush. Irving Schlock: Your luck has to run out sooner or later, Riff! Bun-Bun: If I find out you're cheating, you'll be a lucky stiff. Zoë: According to the map, this must be the Ferryman of Yffi. Luther: If you wish to reach the Cave of Yffi, I must ferry you across to it. Torg: But there's no river or anything! We can just walk there. Luther: Afraid not. Rules are rules. I must ferry you. It is the only way. Torg: Well, all right. Seems stupid to me, but if that's the way it is done. Luther: That'll be all the gold you have in your pockets. Torg: And thus, bureaucracy is born. Luther: Uuuurrrrrffffff.... Torg: If you want, we can just walk the rest of the way to the cave. Luther: Uuuurrrrrffffff.... Luther: Good luck at... ahem... I mean, good luck at the Cave of Yffi! Tips are welcome! Torg: Luther?!? You're the Ferryman of Yffi? Luther: I just do this gig on weekends. Torg: Ah. Torg: Cool. Torg: So. Torg: That hat looks familiar... Luther: This hat cost me a finger and I'll stuff this oar down your throat and paddle your ass from the inside if you try to take it. Torg: Well, I'm off to the Cave of Yffi! Luther: Nobody ever tips. Osric: We could use your help in the Cave of Yffi, bard! Anon: Sorry, a little too much death involved with it. But if you make it out in one piece, I'll write a song about it. Torg: If I make it out in four pieces, will you write a quartet? Zoë: Torg, be serious. Osric: We have nothing to fear. To survive the cave, all we must do is pass three tests. One of spirit, one of strength, and one of intelligence. Torg: And remember folks, "Yffi" spelled backwards is "iffy"! Zoë: So, how do we get Torg through the intelligence test? Osric: Zoë, you should have faith in your friend. And be sure not to stand right next to him while he is being tested. The First Gate of the Cave of Yffi: I am the first gate of the Cave of Yffi. One must pass my test of intelligence or all shall die. The First Gate of the Cave of Yffi: What is black, and white, and red all over? Zoë: A newspaper! Torg: A panda with diaper-rash! Osric: An embarrassed zebra! The First Gate of the Cave of Yffi: No, no, and no! The answer is "a bat with lesions!" Sorry! Have to die now! Torg: What do you mean? All our answers were right! Zoë: How is a bat with lesions black, white and red? The First Gate of the Cave of Yffi: Lesions on the skin are red and white! And bats are black! Torg: Some of them are brown! Osric: And the lesions occur under the bat's feathers, so you can't see them at all! Zoë: They have fur, not feathers, I think. Torg: Same difference. Your answer sucks! The First Gate of the Cave of Yffi: It makes as much sense as any of your answers! Zoë: Well if it's just as good, shouldn't it be good enough to get us through the gate without anyone dying? The First Gate of the Cave of Yffi: Oh, go the hell through. Zoë: Thanks! The First Gate of the Cave of Yffi: Maybe I just need to make it more specific. Ahem "what's black and white and red all over, and looks like a flying mouse..." No, no... too easy. Torg: Um, it's a bit dark in here... The First Gate of the Cave of Yffi: Oh for god's sake, push the orb on the right side wall. No, the other right! The First Gate of the Cave of Yffi: To think I coulda been working with the Sphinx. Torg: Got it, thanks. The Second Gate of the Cave of Yffi: I am the second gate of the Cave of Yffi. One must pass my test of strength or all shall die. Torg: OW! Zoë: Osric, are you ok? Torg: What the hell stupid test of strength was that? The Second Gate of the Cave of Yffi: You all passed. Proceed. The Third Gate of the Cave of Yffi: I am the third gate of the Cave of Yffi. One must pass my test of spirit or all shall die. Osric: Ah, the last and most difficult test! Torg: Would you please quit dropping rocks on our heads?!? The Third Gate of the Cave of Yffi: What terrible spirit you have. You should be like her, she has great spirit! Zoë: Sure, Bun-Bun! I'd love to have a net-cam in my shower! Torg: You knocked her silly! The Third Gate of the Cave of Yffi: There is innocence in concussions. Well, one of you passed, so, go on ahead! Torg: There it is. The Book of Güd! Zoë: Well, what do we do now? Osric: Well, according to the prophesy, you, Zoë, "the Storm Break", will instinctively know what to do to defeat the demon. Just get the book. That was the plan. Osric: Of course since that last test we went through broke my neck and killed me, and now I play for the other team, the new plan is for you guys to take a nose dive off the precipice! Osric: I call upon the thunder to strike this mortal dead at my feet! Torg: Oh, it can't be this easy! Torg: Whoa! Osric: My master has seen through my eyes! He knows what you are up to! My master is on his way to destroy the book and steal your souls! Hahahhhha! Splat! Torg: Wow, this chasm isn't half as deep as I thought! Zoë: Torg, he didn't land yet, he just said the word "splat". Osric: Clever girl! Yup, still falling. Zoë: Osric was the only good person I've met here. But now he's dead and the demon has his soul. That demon is really starting to piss me off. Torg: Well, if we are going to have a plan, we've got intil the demon gets here to make it. Maybe we have an hours? Narr: Three seconds later... The First Gate of the Cave of Yffi: Mumble, mumble... Yes, there'll be no confusion now! It's "a bat with lesions" or the highway! K'Z'K: Gate keeper, test me that I might enter the Cave of Yffi! The First Gate of the Cave of Yffi: What? Uh... Oh, yes, yes-yes-yes. The First Gate of the Cave of Yffi: What is black and white and makes you duck when it moves by? K'Z'K: A nun with a spear through her head. The First Gate of the Cave of Yffi: Dammit I give up. Just go in! Help yourself! Tell your friends it's open house-day at Yffi! Torg: I was able to use the Book of E-Ville to free Kizke, maybe I can figure out how to use the Book of Güd. But first I must do something... Ahem... The demon is on the way to steal our souls! Nothing can save us now! Irving Schlock: Ok, the inflatable time machine is ready to go, let's save your friends. What date do I set it for? Riff: Um, I don't know. Irving Schlock: Ballpark? Future? Past? Riff: No idea. Irving Schlock: Ok, back to cards. Zoë: What was that about? Torg: It's a classic cliche! In this type of situation, when someone says "nothing can save us now", it's followed by someone showing up to save us. Zoë: You mean like, "it can't get any worse?" K'Z'K: Hi kids! K'Z'K: Torg, I owe you a debt of gratitude. It was you who released me on this world using the Book of E-Ville. K'Z'K: I always repay my debts no matter how much it hurts you, but it can wait until I have the Book of Güd and have dispatched the "Storm Breaker"! K'Z'K: Bad news, Zoë! You are prophesized to defeat me, and prophesies piss me off. I don't mean to bite your head off, but I'm going to bite your head off! Zoë: "Zoë"? You just missed her. I'm her twin sister... um... "Pheasant"! Torg: Hey ugly! Torg: I have the Book of Güd, and I know how to use it! You leave Zoë alone or I'll unsummon you where you stand! Torg: I'll send you back to hell before you even make a move, Kizke, I'll... Torg: eep! K'Z'K: "K'Z'K", no vowels. K'Z'K: You were going to send me back to hell using a spell entitled "Turn offs: Disco dancing and kung-fu movies"? K'Z'K: "Nude Women of Suicide Badminton"? This is not the Book of Güd! Torg: I like to think of it as "the Book of Great!" K'Z'K: "Nude Women of Suicide Badminton"! Nice book, but it is the Book of Güd that I truly want. Was this a decoy? Did you try to decoy me? Torg: That's right, Captain Consonant! My job was to distract you long enough for Zoë to use the book. Torg: Get him, Zoë! Zoë: I... Zoë: ...I... Zoë: ...I can't read it! K'Z'K: Ah-hahahaha K'Z'K: Of course you can't, this book was not meant for bugs like you! Now I will send this book where I sent the other and... and... ...... .... K'Z'K: My eyes! Zoë: I couldn't read it because there are no words. Only picutres. K'Z'K: oh! ooh! ooooooh, you little mother... Torg: Pictures? Picture did that? Zoë: It's more than just picutres, they're like magic pictures! They stir something deep inside! Torg: Like the pictures in "The Nude Women of Suicide Badminton"? Zoë: They cause peace and serenity that the foolish cannot see, and that evil cannot stand up to. Torg: Pretty! Torg: So, that is it? Zoë: We should leave the book here and go. Torg: What was the whole deal with you being the "Storm Breaker?" It never even rained! Zoë: Symbolism. Kizke was the storm that would have swept the world, and I stopped him Torg: If I was a prophet I wouldn't waste tim ewith vague symbolism! I'd have prophesied you the "Bug Squisher!" Then you'd have known to wear big boots! That way you wouldn't have demon-guts between your toes right now! Zoë: And thus, the serenity runs away from me faster than a blind date. The First Gate of the Cave of Yffi: Oh, it's the smart-asses. Hope you enjoyed your day in the cave. The First Gate of the Cave of Yffi: "Nude Women of Suicide Badminton"? What is this? Torg: There's a whole joke-n-riddle section in the back. The First Gate of the Cave of Yffi: Thank you! Nobody's ever... sniff... I'm going to cry! Zoë: Well, Kizke is finally gone. Gwynn, Osric, and all his other victims are finally at peace. Torg: And we may be stuck in the past, but at least we're together. The First Gate of the Cave of Yffi: I'm going to have to practice this one! I am the first gate of the Cave of Yffi. One must pass my test of intelligence or all shall die. "A priest, a rabbi, and a sheep are in a brothel,...." Torg: Poor bard-guy! The demon must have killed him on his way to us. All he has to show for his life is the tale he was writing of our journeys, which he never finished. Riff: He was one of the best. Torg: Maybe I should just leave it here by his side for another to discover. All it's missing is a title. Torg: "The War of the Bug Squishers" Riff: Perfect! Torg: Riff! What are you doing here? Riff: Pretending to like a really crappy title! Anon: COuld you guys keep it down? I'm trying to sleep! Zoë: Riff! How did you find us? Riff: It wasn't easy. We didn't know where to start until Gwynn came out of her coma. Zoë: Gwynn's alive? Riff: Without her as a guidepost, we would have never found you guys. You moved through space as well as time. Zoë: That explains why we ended up in Europe. Torg: This ins't America? Zoë: YOu're kidding, right? Don't you know anything about history? Anon: Today we will be discussing the early middle ages... Ryu: You're history, Blanka! Blanka: Rar! Riff: This is how Dr. Schlock explained it to me. When I blasted Kizke with the time blaster, he cut a noticeable trail through time and space. Riff: When my time machine malfunctioned, you went spinning off into the continuum and rode Kizke's trail like a bobsled. Riff: When Gwynn's soul was freed, it rushed to meet her waiting body. Riff: She burst out of her coma claiming to have seen you two destroying Kizke. Riff: And it wasn't long before Dr. Schlock could send me to follow her trail back to you. Torg: Now I get it! Anon: Hey, who drew all over my scroll? Torg: Must have been that darn demon. Anon: *sniff!* Demons can be so cruel! Torg: You guys go back to our time. I'm staying. Riff: What?!? Torg: Now that we've "saved the future", there's still a chance I can save Val from Lysinda. I have to take that chance. Tell everyone I'm going to miss them. Even Bun-Bun. Riff: Val and Lysinda are here? Now? Zoë: Long story. Torg, please come back with us! We have our lives there! I have finals, you have your business to take care of... Riff: Um... we're returning to mid-august, you missed your finals. Zoe: Aaaaaaah! Do my parents know? Leave me here! Riff: Torg, this is an inflatable time machine! It's very unstable! Any sharp thing could pop it, stranding us here! An acorn! A rock, anything! Anon: Please leave! If people from my time were to actually meet you, it would ruin the heroic quality of my epic! Zoë: Please Torg, let's go home now! Riff: Come on, buddy! Zoë: Let's go! Anon: Please! Zoë Come on! Anon: Come on, Torg! Riff: Chicken? Torg: All right, but I don't think I like this. Riff: I'd like to update my list of sharp things to include swords! Irving Schlock: Well, my work here is done. If you need me again, just admit to yourself that you're screwed and die. Riff: I'll page you. Riff: Well, we can visit Gwynn in about an hour. Do you think Zoë is still bummed? Torg: I think it was nice of you to let Zoë stop off in the past just long enough to take her finals. Riff: Yeah, she did really badly, but at least she didn't flunk out! Narr: A few months ago... Dex: How'd you do on the history exam? Zoë: I would have done better if it wasn't for the essay question about "The War of the Bug Squishers". I never even heard of it! It wasn't in my notes! Torg: I thought I loved her, mean really loved her. Maybe Val just became built up in my mind. When I saw her again... before... she acted differently toward me. I guess things just weren't the same between us, and now I don't know how I feel. Riff: Maybe you just thought you loved her because you thought she loved you. Torg: Yeah. Look, it might have caused all kinds of paradoxes and messed with our present to try and save her, but still, was it the right thing to do? Riff: Right? I dunno. Effective? It depends on how time works. Does time like to be changed? Does it fight to "right" itself? Does it let the little stuff slide? When you change time, does it create a tangent timeline? Or is time absolute, and you were always destined to travel to the past, yet not save her? Torg: Hey, we have a time machine now! Let's find out! Riff: I would but I accidentally popped it with a stale jagged Dorito. Stuck my thumb too. Ouch. Torg: Darn it! Damn inflatable technology. But the food sounds good! I think I got some jagged crab legs in the fridge. Riff: Just don't nuke 'em in the inflatable microwave. Narr: Epilogue: Valerie: But you are far too sick to go into battle! Torgamous de Saxones: The Trents are demoralized. We were both weakened greatly by the war, but their king is dead and the evil has left. Torgamous de Saxones: Now is the time to take the valley. Torgamous de Saxones: Of course I'd be better outfitted if you hadn't given that traitorous Pheasant my best armor, sword, and horse! Valerie: I'm sorry, but I had a dream last night, a horrible dream! Torgamous de Saxones: You know I love you more than life, but your dreams cannot outweigh the fate of Mercia. Valerie: My lord, I fear for you live in this battle! Torgamous de Saxones: Fear not, Valerie! I shall return. Anon: Lord Torgamous accidentally impaled himself on his own spear! He's dead! Lysinda: You will now have a choice to make, Lady Valerie. Aylee: I missed you so much, Torg! Torg: I'm glad you're all right, Aylee! Didn't eat anybody while I was gone, did you? Aylee: Only a drunk who passed out in a garden. He was out in the sun all day! Torg: Aylee! Aylee: He was marinated, slow-roasted and garnished! How could I resist? Torg: "Marinated?" Aylee: Actually, pickled. "Wino-schnitzel!" Torg: There still might be time to go on a summer vacation this year, but we have to move quick! Aylee: What do you want to do? Torg: How about white-water rafter? We can shoot the rapids! Bun-Bun: You stupid freaking nerd-boy! Torg: I said shoot the "rapids", not "rabbits!" Bun-Bun: I heard you fine, nerd-boy. I just realized I hadn't welcomed you home properly. Kiki: For this is a nifty darn comic, for this is a nifty darn comic, * Narr: Sung to the tune of "For he's a jolly good fellow." Kiki: For this is a nifty darn co-o-omic... Kiki: And we've made it tooooooooo year two! Kiki: And we've made it to year two! And we've made it to year two! For this is a nifty darn comic... Riff: You had to buy her a karaoke machine, didn't you? Torg: The batteries would have run out two nights ago if you didn't hook it up to a micro-fusion reactor! Torg: Well, since the summer is just about over, I was looking around the internet for vacation spots, and look what I found! Zoë: It's Dollywood. Zoë: You guys have never heard of "Dollywood"? Riff: An entire Dolly Parton theme-park? Zoë: The bombardment of immature breast jokes will commence in 5...4... Torg: It's better than Epcot because it has two giant, round... Riff: Can I ride on the spinning D-cups? Riff: They're real. Torg: They're fake, I'm telling you. Riff: They look real to me! Zoë: Would you guys quit talking about Dolly Parton? Riff: We're talking about the birds in Dollywood's "The Wings of America." Torg: An entertaining and education up-close look at some of America's most beautiful and fascinating birds of prey. Riff thinks they use real birds of prey and I think they're displays. Riff: Looks like flesh and blood to me! Torg: They're plastic. Those are the fakest hooters I've ever seen! Zoë: All right! That's it! Torg: We're talking about owls, Zoë! Chill out! Zoë: Owls?!? Riff: What? These aren't owls! They're breasts! Torg, get this smut off the screen and go back to "The Wings of America." Torg: I'm a good person. It's the internet's fault! Torg: Our brochure for Dollywood just arrived, so we can plan ou days! Torg: Hey, no need to pack a lunch! If we get hungry, we can always stop by The Best Little S'more-house in Texas! Torg: That one was technically a Dolly-Parton-movie joke, not one referring to her measurements! Zoë: Like I care. Torg: Just trying to keep you abreast on the subject. RIff: Ooooh! I want to go see the animatronic large breasted presidents of the United States exhibit! Zoë: Ooooh! I want to go see guys not acting like jerks! Gwynn: Hi, Torg! Torg: Hi, Gwynn. Gwynn: I never got to thank you for what you and Zoë did for me. Thank you! Torg: Sure. Gwynn: What's wrong with Torg? Zoë: He's just bummed out because nobody really wanted to go to Dollywood with him. Gwynn: He's a weird guy. Gwynn: Anyway, I appreciate you letting me stay with you for a few weeks. Zoë: You had no place to go. No home, no job, nothing but a huge pile of bills. I couldn't leave you stranded when all you need is time to get back on your feet. Gwynn: You know, there's a strange freedom that comes from having your life ripped away from you. I have so many options, and I'm in not rush to make bad decisions. Gwynn: Don't worry, I'm not saying I'm going to be staying here long. I don't think I'm going to be very comfortable living so close to Riff. Zoë: I thought maybe you two were still an item! He visited you so often at the hospital. Does he blame you for what happened? Gwynn: We talked about it a lot. Gwynn: Riff, I'm so sorry that the demon made me try to kill you! I don't even know why you're visiting me! Riff: I dunno. Gwynn: Maybe, somehow, you think there is still hope... for us? Riff: I dunno. Gwynn" Insert any relationship-based question here. Riff: I dunno. Gwynn: I was thinking of pciking up a copy of "Blade". Riff: Get the widescreen edition or you'll miss half the action! What kind of receiver do you have? Gwynn: Why is it men are so obvious about trying to hide the truth from us? It's so frustrating! Zoë: Oh, tell me about it. You would think that bla, bla, bla! Bla, bla, bla, yada, yada, yada. Zoë: bla. Yada, in demon, bla, bla, bla, yada, yada, suffering any lasting effects? Gwynn: Huh? Zoë: I said that you've gone through so much! From having a demon trapped in you to having your soul trapped in a demon. Are you afraid of suffering any lasting effects? Gwynn: I dunno. Anon: 5...4...3...2...1... Happy new year! Zoë: Habby new beer. *Hic* Berk: Maybe just dangerous to save the world, lil' missy! Zoë: Uh-oh! I better call Gwynn's house and warn Riff! K'Z'K: Riff's at my house? Thank you! You always were a good friend! Zoë: Jeez, do I have to be kissed by everything in this freaking strip? Riff: Zoë! I need a doctor, and... Zoë: You told Gwynn we had a date? Zoë: You jerk! Riff: Whoah, that's gotta hurt! Looks like the only thing mating today is Zoë's knuckles and Torgo's intestines! Zoë: Enough of the video taping, Riff! Snap him out of this! Riff: All right, all right! I'll try. I just wanted something for posterity. Torg: Gyahhh! Torg (Portuguese): Ah! Run away!
Torg: Never mind. Torg: At least I can hear the words "Department of Motor Vehicles" without freaking out! Riff: Stop saying that name! Zoë: Keep that rabbit away from me! Bun-Bun: Can we go steady? Torg: Aaaaaaaaaaaaa Zoë: Aaaaaaaaaaaaa Riff: Aaaaaaaaaaaaa Torg: Aaaaah! Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow... Riff: Aaaaah! Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow... Zoë: Get out! Get out! Get out! Narr: Top secret upcoming chase scene Narr: Of course having no currency, this becomes a problem. Torg: Are we there yet? Riff: Not far now! Zoë: We have to get the bucket and trench-coat off you two. No time for the hospital! This sulfuric acid may scar a bit, but you'll live! Torg: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Riff: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Zoë: Are we done now? Can I go back to studying yet? Torg: Dude! Shoelaces! Riff: Owwie. Torg: Don't eat any clients. Aylee: Do you mean any other clients, or does that include the one I'm currently digesting? Aylee: But getting to see him gave me this warm fuzzy feeling inside! Aylee: Oh wait, that was the security guard I had to eat to get in here. He had a lot of facial hair. Torg: Aylee! You ate that old rotting corpse? Aylee: scuze me. Bun-Bun: Anyone else suddenly in the mood for fast food? Aylee: He was marinated, slow-roasted and garnished! How could I resist? Torg: You ate another client! Aylee: I'm sorry! Torg: Do I spray you with the water bottle or rub your nose in it? Aylee: It'll never happen again! Aylee: Don't worry, his leg will grow back! Kiki: Oooh! Kiki: Fireworks! Torg: Oh..... ok. It all started a long time ago. A time before the internet, when yuppies ruled the earth. Kiki: Ooooh! What a shiny bottle! Kiki: Oooh! The time blaster is working! See, it's on fire just like the time machine was! Kiki: Owie! Kiki: Ooooh! A quarter! Riff: How long did it take you to figure this out? Kiki: Oh, I printed that out hours ago, but some shiny pieces of metal distracted me for a while! Oooo!!! What's that? Kiki: Ooooh, pretty lights! Wow! Look at that! Kiki: Oooooh! I'm poinging 'round Riff's la-ab, I'm poinging 'round Riff's la-ab! Torg: You're not worried anymore? Kiki: Oooh, what does this button do? Riff: Nah, life's too short to waste worrying about the inevitable. Kiki: Oooh, what does this button do? Bun-Bun: Use the N-word around me again and I'll do it to you with a spoon. Riff: Our wuhman! Our terr-tory! Torg: Bonus! Anon 1: Oh my god! They killed Dogbert! Anon 2: You bastards! Zoë: What do you mean mom? I don't hear anything! ........Oh, that? That's just the washing machines in the laundry room banging around. Torg: Yearrrgh! Kruller: Muldy! What's happening? Muldy: Aliens! They've come for us! Muldy: It's just like my sister... Samantha... Noooooo! Narr: 8:00 Narr: 9:00 Narr: 10:00 Torg: Holy crap, we're stick figures again! Pete must be taking another vacation! Riff: I'm afraid not. Torg: What? Riff: I was playing with my new reality-shifting Conbobatron, and things got out of hand. Torg: You set the Conbobatron to "simplify" reality? Roff: Actually I set it to "cheaply drawn". Torg: Great, so how do we "un-stick-figure" ourselves? Riff: Not important right now. We need to get weapons and fast! When I activated the Conbobatron, it unleashed a terrifying hideous monster who will destroy us all! Riff: It's too late! It's here!!! Torg: In many ways, it's more terrible than I imagined. Anon: Rar. Riff: We need to get back to my lab. I have a weapon that just might kill it! Torg: We need to lose this thing first! Torg: Maybe we should stop running left and right! Riff: We're two-dimensional now, our direction choices are limited! Riff: Here's the weapon I made! The Zap-A-Tron! I'm too nervous to fire it! Torg: I got it! No problem. Here it comes. Riff: Torg, wait! You have to turn the safety off, or it won't fire! Torg: Huh? Riff: It's almost here! Turn the safety off! Hit the switch! Torg: What switch! ?! This gun is a bug "L", it doesn't have any switches! Riff: Oh, never mind then. Just point and shoot. Torg: Thank you! Zoë: Hi guys! What's up? Riff: Zoë! Look out behind you! Torg: Zoë! Look out behind you! Riff: It ate Zoë!?! Torg: Die, you beast from hell! Torg: "zippy zippy zippy?" Stick-figure weapons suck. Riff: Easy on the trigger, hotshot! You only have enough dotted lines for one more shot! Riff: It's got me! Torg: The Zap-A-Tron is having no effect! Riff: Torg, when the Conbobatron shifted reality, only one thing was sheltered from the reality-shift in my reality-shift-proof-box! Behind you! Torg: A giant pencil? Riff: Use the eraser-end, Torg! The eraser! Argh!!! Torg: I'm going to rub you the wrong way, monster! Anon 1: Rar. Riff: Torg, I'm sorry. This is all my fault. Because of my Conbobatron, Zoë is dead, and I'm fading fast... Torg: No... This isn't real. Riff: What? Torg: None of this is real! Don't you see? This isn't your fault, Riff! You didn't cause this! It was Pete! Riff: Pete? Torg: The guy who draws the strip! He's drawing us quickly and cheaply with no attention to plot just to take some time off, and leaving you to take the blame! Riff: You ok, Torg? Torg: Look at the facts! This whole "monster from another reality" story is over in one week! Normally it would take weeks to get through! Plus, there is no back story! And you'd never name your invention a "Conbobatron", it sounds like it's out of Calvin and Hobbs! And on Thursday you said you were too nervous to fire a weapon! You fire weapons like most people munch corn flakes! Riff: Corn flakes scare the crap out of me. Torg: And did I mention that you're just a head? Torg: Gahhh!! Torg: It was only a dream... Aaaaaah! Torg: Gahhh!! Riff: So, it was all a dream? Torg: I'm telling you, it was Pete taking a vacation! Torg: First he made it seem to be your fault! Now he's trying to make it my dream! Anon 2: Come back to bed, Torgy! Torg: As I was saying, it was all just a dream. Goodnight! Riff: Feel free to draw me some women before the comic ends. Narr: On an empty winding dirt road in the middle of nowhere... Torg: So, nobody wanted to go on vacation with me, huh? Well, I don't care if nobody else wants to come. I don't care is summer is over. Nothing can stop me from doing a road trip! Torg: Think of it, Bun-Bun! Just you and me on a two week road trip to see America! Just us guys, you and me, a man and his rabbit. Think of the hours and hours we have to bond! Nothing but you and me, buddy! Kiki: And me! Torg: Kiki? What are you doing here? Bun-Bun: Kiki, I can honestly say I've never been so happy to see you in my entire life. Torg: Don't tell me you invited Kiki along to share our vacation, Bun-Bun. That's not your style. Bun-Bun: Actually, nerd-boy, she's here to work the gas pedal when I steal your car and leave you by the side of the road. Bun-Bun: Punch it, Kiki! Torg: Now that is your style. Torg: You stole my car! Bad bunny! Bun-Bun: Damn, this car is a stick. I don't know how to drive a stick! Kiki: I know how to fetch sticks! Hey, if you're here talking to me who's watching where we are going? Torg: Now you're driving it off a cliff, bad, bad bunny! Kiki: Wow, that was neat! Can we do it again? Bun-Bun: I guess you being rubber-like helped you bounce around unhurt. Kiki: You think my body is like rubber? Bun-Bun: I meant your head! And why the hell didn't the airbag go off? Kiki: Oooh! Snuggly! Torg: Hey guys! Wow, good thing for you I had airbags! installed Bun-Bun: No wheels, on food, no cell phone, this sucks. Torg: Come on guys, let's go. Kiki: Why don't we wait by the road? Torg: We haven't seen a car on it in hours. Besides, highway isn't far if we cut through the woods in a straight line. Torg: It should only take us a couple of hours. But just in case we have to camp out for the night, I have a lot of camping gear. And hey, I did want a vacation! Maybe this is as good a place as any! Narr: [Insert ominous thunder here.] Kiki: And look! I can tape the whole trip on your video camera! I'll do an obituary on us! Bun-Bun: It's called a documentary, rubber-head, not an obituary. Torg: I sense some more ominous thunder coming. Narr: [Insert inauspicious thunder here.] Kiki: How will we get water when we're thirsty? And I'm thirsty! Torg: Ahem... No need to fear lack of water when in the woods! All you need to do is locate a stream or river or creek of some kind. Torg: Here we see a babbling brook, allowing us to fill our canteens and scoop up this fresh, crystal clear water... Torg: Hey, this water is warm! Torg: Bun-Bun?!? Bun-Bun: What? Torg: Downstream! Narr: In September of 1999, a man, his pet rabbit and a ferret go traipsing through the woods witha video camera. Narr: A week later the footage is found. Narr: Soon, it's going to be taped over with an episode of "Suddenly Susan". Narr: We thought you'd like to see it first. Torg: I'm sorry! I'm sooo sorry I got us lost in the woods! Torg: I'm sorry for making you mad, Bun-Bun, but it's me you want! Don't take your rage out on my nostril! I'm so afraid! Kiki: Morning Torg! Did getting a video camera stuffed up your nose hurt? Torg: Dutt-ub, Kigig! Kiki: Oooh, it looks like fun to be kicking over those odd piles of rocks! Can I play too? Torg: Ok, according to local legend, there is a witch in these woods who makes odd piles of rocks and carefully arranged sticks and likes to kill... Hey, it's getting late, let's talk about it later. I'm going to go take a leak on the carefully arranged sticks that we've designated "the bathroom". Kiki: Me first! Kiki: I thought I heard Torg screaming last night, and now he's missing! Kiki: What's this? Ooooh! A bloody bundle of sticks with pieces of Torg's flannel. I wonder what could be in it?! Kiki: Eek! Kiki: It's a beat up Torg! Torg, who did it to you? Was it the witch? Torg: Ba... bad.... bunny... Kiki: Bun-Bun? You did this? Bun-Bun: Yeah, I'm in a bad mood. And get that camera out of my face. Kiki: Bun-Bun.... Kiki: Sof-f-f-t.... Kiki: Sof-f-f-f-f... Torg: You beat me up multiple times, you push Kiki arund, you trash my car by accident and you trash my video camera on purpose, and not a single apology. Bun-Bun: Nerd-boy, I'm sorry for pulling the plug on you while you were dying in the hospital. Torg: You didn't... When did that happen? Bun-Bun: I'm apologizing in advance. Bun-Bun: All right, nerd-boy, if this is the way you want it... I was getting hungry anyway. Survival of the fittest time. Torg: Bun-Bun, first of all, you don't eat meat, you eat greens. Secondly, this is the woods! There are greens everywhere! Bun-Bun: If God meant for me to eat vegetation that wasn't triple washed and came in plastic bags, he would have made me dumb like you! Torg: Ow, ouch! Ow! Argh! Kiki: Guys, stay good! Stop fighting! Or at least let Torg play too! Bun-Bun: Game called on account of naked chick. Torg: For you! Torg: She's beautiful! Bun-Bun: She tried to drown us, nerd-boy! I think she needs to learn some manners. Torg: Leave her alone! That was the dunk of love! Bun-Bun: I'm this close to showing her the gaping head-wound of love. Bun-Bun: Hey Romeo, look what your new infatuation has! A bag of cute little dead woodland creatures. Looks like she killed them with her bare hands. Torg: Gyaaaah! Kiki: I feel faint! Oasis: Keep out of my stuff. Torg: Why'd ya kill all those cute little animals? Oasis: Lunch. Torg: Thanks for the invitation! I'm starving! We can chat about the animal-butchery over a nice meal! Torg: Thanks for sharing lunch with us, we've been lost in the woods and haven't eaten in days! I don't even know your name! Oasis: My name is Oasis. Torg: Weird parents, huh? Oasis: My parents are dead. Torg: Did they name your before or after they died? Torg: I'm Torg! Oasis: And you got stable parents. Torg: So, what are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere? Oasis: Training. Torg: Training for what? Oasis: Training. Torg: Ok, here's a more specific question. You seem to have a reasonably current log cabin with all the amenities, so why the "Clan of the Cave Bear" duds and lifestyle? Steven Hereti: The cabin and amenities were already here, but she had to find food, clothing, and everything else completely on her own. She's been surviving out here for months. Oasis: Hell, Steve. Torg: Ah, she's a survival freak. What are you? Her guide? Her trainer? Steven Hereti: I'm a little of both, I suppose. She also has learned several forms of advanced combat, so I wouldn't advise calling her "freak". Oasis: Are you here for a reason, Steve? Steven Hereti: Yes, Oasis. I'm here to take you home. Your contact with this unintended element has compromised my data. Oasis: Data? I'm not your experiment, and I like it out here. I'm staying. Steven Hereti: Oasis, be nice and accompany me to home-base. Oasis: I'm sorry for hurting you, Torg! Please feel free to share the rest of my food with your pet rabbit and ferret! Oasis: Steve, I'm sorry for keeping you waiting. Can we go back to home-base now? Steven Hereti: You go along, my dear. I must have a word with our friend, "Torg". Steven Hereti: You should go back the way you came. This is a dangerous place and many who come here.... have...... accidents. Torg: That a threat? Steven Hereti: Not at all. I'm just not accountable for your safety. It was your mistake to trespass on... Steven Hereti: The Isle of Doctor Steve! Torg: "Isle"? We're in the woods. I never left the mainland! Steven Hereti: Do you know how expensive islands are these days? Torg: Guys, wake up, we're following them. Torg: My turn with the binocs, Bun-Bun! Bun-Bun: Remind me what we're freezing our butts out here for again, nerd-boy? Torg: Did you notice the way Oasis changed her tune when creepy Doctor Steve showed up? And the two of them alone in that huge compound, it just doesn't add up. It's all weird, and I want to know what's going on. Bun-Bun: Do I look like a ferret? No, the real reason Torg: Because she might need our help and it's the right thing to do. Bun-Bun: And because you saw her naked. Torg: Always a plus. Bun-Bun: Ok, what's the plan, nerd-boy? Torg: We wait and watch for a couple of days until we learn their pattern, then we sneak into the compound and gather clues about what's going on with Oasis and Doctor Steve. Bun-Bun: That sounds boring. Torg: Then focus your attention on keeping quiet so they don't find us. Torg: Bun-Bun?!? Bun-Bun: That bird was about to squawk and give away our position! Torg: What?!? Bun-Bun: Oh no, a squawking nerd-boy's about to give our position away! Bun-Bun: All right, so I'm bored. Steven Hereti: I warned you to stay away from here, Torg. You ignored my warnings. You have chosen your fate. Steven Hereti: Oasis, find Torg now! Torg: Heh, she'll never find me up in this tree. When she gives up looking for me and the coast is clear, we can sneak into the compound! Kiki: So, what do we do for now? Torg: I'm just going to hang on to this tree for dear freakin' life until she gives up! Steven Hereti: Oasis has no doubt found you by now, Torg! You will now learn that Oasis can hunt more than just animals! Steven Hereti: Oasis! Bring me Torg's head! Steven Hereti: Hmmm. Well, it didn't necessarily have to be attached. We'll have to work on that. Torg: If it's any consolation, this hurts a lot! Steven Hereti: Oasis, throw Torg in a cell until I figure out how to kill him! Steven Hereti: A bit too literal, and several feet short. Nice distance though. Didn't think you'd make the rack of dishware. Steven Hereti: Oasis, place Torg gingerly in a cell and bring him some band-aids. Torg: Medic! Steven Hereti: I've decided to just shoot you and get this over with. Torg: But wait, don't you want to reveal your master plan to me? Steven Hereti: No. Torg: If you were a real villain, you'd tell me your master plan before killing me. Steven Hereti: Hmmmm... Torg: After you tell me your master plan, you can strap me to a table and cut me in half with a laser! Steven Hereti: How about I tie you to a chair and blind you with a pen-light? Torg: Deal! Steven Hereti: Let's do it! Torg: Dr. Steve, your master plan is to date Daphne Zuniga? Steven Hereti: Well, once I rule the world, she'll have to say yes! Torg: But what does ruling the world have to do with Oasis? Steven Hereti: Nothing, but you asked me what my master plan is. Gotta start small. In any case, you know too much. Goodbye, Torg. Torg: Isn't this trap door supposed to be deeper? Steven Hereti: Like I got nothing better to do than to dig pits. Oasis, please escort "Mr. Picky" to his cell. Kiki: Torg, I found you! Bun-Bun didn't think I could! Kiki: How am I going to get you out of here? Torg: You can't, but there's a way you can help. Doctor Steve has Oasis hypnotized or brainwashed or something. The key is his watch. When he talks into his watch, she obeys. So go get it and bring it to me! Torg: Move quickly, Kiki! Doctor Steve seems a bit unstable. I don't know how long I have left. Torg: And that's "watch", not "crotch"! Don't screw it up this time! Torg: That was one embarrassing magic show, I can tell you! Steven Hereti: Oasis, on my mark, execute action F-2. Steven Hereti: Now! Kiki: Excuse me, could you tell me the time? Steven Hereti: Why sure, it's... Steven Hereti: Hey! Get back here! Narr: Five minutes later... Kiki: Bun-Bun! I got the watch from Dr. Steve! I zig-zagged around and lost him so he wouldn't find me back here! With the watch, Torg says we can control Oasis! Kiki: Stay good, Oasis! Stay good! Bun-Bun: Pipe down, tube rat. The watch won't work. The system is attuned to his voice alone. Kiki: Can we tuna it to our voices? Bun-Bun: What do you think I'm doing hiding up here observing everything for? I would have just grabbed the watch and Oasis for myself if it were that easy. Shhhh, here he comes. Steven Hereti: Oasis, begin dance training, and prepare to execute action F-5. Bun-Bun: Dr. Steve looks beat. He's just about done running her through hoops. While they sleep, we move in and take over. Kiki: Oasis looks nice but she's a monster! Bun-Bun: I know what you're thinking, Kiki. Bun-Bun: Now that everyone's asleep, let's see if I can figure this out. This room is Oasis-control central, so this microphone can be used to override control, if we can... Kiki: Oooooh! Buttons! Bun-Bun: Kiki, don't make me hurt you. Kiki: I'm sorry! What did I do? Bun-Bun: Hmmm... Not sure what you just started, or stopped. Bun-Bun: Probably didn't do anything. Oasis: Torg? Torg: Huh...? Oasis? Oasis: Come on. I've got to get you out of here while I'm still in control of myself. Torg: So, Dr. Steve has you brainwashed, huh? Oasis: How did you know? Did you read my file? Torg: It seemed obvious to me, but how did you break free of his control? Oasis: He controls me through some kind of waves, electromagnetic I think. The machine sending those waves must be down. Oasis: Come morning, Steve will fix the maching and regain control. You have to be long gone by then! Torg, he was going to have me kill you! Torg: I'll do whatever you want, but tell me how this happened to you. Oasis: It started many years ago when my parents died. They were killed in a freak accident. Oasis: After my parents died, my custody was turned over to my distant Uncle Steve. He was a loving caring man, who only wanted the best for me, and to control my mind. Steven Hereti: Do the dishes! Oasis: No! Oasis: He tried all kinds of mind-control techniques to no avail, but it didn't matter because I loved him and would do anything to please him. Steven Hereti: Who wants to play with microwave radiation? Oasis: I do! I do! Oasis: Then, as I got older, I had a change of heart. Steven Hereti: Want do to some sensory deprivation, my dear Oasis? Oasis: You're not my real father! You don't really care about me. I'm going to the mall, Steve! Torg: You were going through a rebellious stage? Oasis: Our relationship started going south when he had my middle name legally changed to "Experiment-Number-One". Oasis: I was free of Uncle Steve and his mind control games and I was happy, for a time. I had always loved gymnastics and worked very hard at it, but for some reason, I was not progressing as fast as my classmates. That's when I realized I was different. Anon: Freak! Oasis: My life's love was stolen from me, my hope of being a great gymnast, gone. I wanted to die. That's when Uncle Steve came to my rescue. He said he could make me an olympic-class gymnast (as well as an interrogator, a thief, an assassin, and a bunch of other inconsequential stuff), but I'd have to go through some radical mind-control techniques and experimental surgery. At that point I was willing to do anything. Oasis: But the most terrifying thing was the "deprogramming" that preceded the operation. For days on end, I was forced to watch "Regis and Cathy Lee" while listening to "Rage Against the Machine!" Oasis: Now, every time I see Regis Philban, I want to punch him in the head! Torg: Me too! Oasis: And then, it was time for surgery. The anesthetics put me to sleep, and I woke up in a fog, and I've been there ever since. I've been aware of what I was diong, but only as if watching someone else's dream. Until today. I don't want to go back to that, Torg, I'd rather die. Torg: Don't worry, I have a plan! Narr: Meanwhile: Bun-Bun: Dr. Steve has been using this system for years. It not only knows who he is, but also knows what he's saying. The next step for me to gain control is to get the system to understand me. Luckily, we just installed the latest voice recognition software. You let me know if it works, Kiki. Kiki: Ok! Bun-Bun: Ahem... "test, test, one - two, one - two" Kiki: It says: "Voice acknowledged: Dust beth, want to, igloo?" Bun-Bun: This is going to be a long night. Kiki: "Thesis gong tubby a long island." Bun-Bun: Oh crap! Doctor Steve is coming! Kiki: "All cap, smock, and sleeveless scrotum!" Oasis: I don't know if I like this plan, Torg! But if you want to catch Steve off guard, this the place to set up the ambush. Torg: Its a great plan. All we have to do is find the machine that controls you and destroy it before Dr. Steve fixes it! And how are we going to keep baldy from doing that? Oasis: "You hold him, I hit him?" Torg: Wow! You got all the nuances of my plan so quickly! Steven Hereti: Right on time! Oasis: I got him here like you asked, Boss! What do you want me to do with him? Steven Hereti: You hold him I hit him. Torg: How could you torture and brainwash her? She's like a daughter to you! Steven Hereti: Daughter? Oasis: I made it up. Oasis: Torg, I'm not brainwashed. Steve just likes to say that 'cause it makes him feel important! Steven Hereti: That's what she thinks! Torg: Why are you both playing these silly games? Steven Hereti: Not games, but training experiments! Despite my initial desire to have you eliminated, I realized you were perfect for a very important test. Could Oasis gain your trust and bring you here but make you think it was your idea? It was time to put her emotional training to the test. Steven Hereti: You see, Torg, anyone or anything can be taught to kill on command, but it is the human element that is far more difficult to control, and far more powerful! See for yourself. Steven Hereti: Oasis, you are upset at being controlled. I command you to bring me Torg's flannel. Oasis: I can't... can't take these head games any more! *sob* Oasis: *Honk!* Torg: Leave her alone, Steve! Oasis: SOmeone, make the pain go away! Steven Hereti: Oasis, you are mad at Torg for being stupid. Hit yourself in the head multiple times. Torg: Oasis, resist him! Oasis: "Resist him?" You still think he has control of me? You are such a moron! Oasis: I can't believe I trusted my life story to such an idiot! Oasis: God, why is Torg so stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!?! Steven Hereti: Oasis can be anyone I want her to be, anything to anyone I want! And at the same time she will follow my every order without hesitation or fail! Think of the possibilities! Torg: You could have her wear skimpy outfits while serving beer and sandwiches to your friends and speaking with a french accent. Steven Hereti: That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard! In fact that's so stupid, I'm going to write that down on this list so I can laugh at it later. Torg: Looks like someone already beat me to "have her go on a date with a lesbian and then tell all". Steven Hereti: Enough of this. Oasis is the ultimate spy, the ultimate weapon, the ultimate tool for revenge, and more powerful than even she knows. Steven Hereti: One final example: Oasis, you're as giddy as a school girl, you love Torg! Oasis: Squeeee! Steven Hereti: And what's the last thing you'd expect from someone who loves you so much? Steven Hereti: Oasis, break Torg's neck! Narr: To be continued... Aylee: I'm so worried. Torg has been gone for so long! I don't know why but I have a feeling that something terrible has happened to him! Then again, it could just be because I have an upset stomach from eating a Mexican. Aylee: Mexican meal! A mexican meal. Burritos! Aylee: Anyway, I'm surprised my stomach is so upset, she didn't look spicy. Aylee: Uh, did you know that in the mexican language they use terms like "he" and "she" to refer to non-human objects like burritos? Steven Hereti: And what's the last thing you'd expect from someone who loves you so much? Steven Hereti: Oasis, break Torg's neck! Kiki: eeek! Kiki: Bun-BUn, you scared me! Bun-Bun: Figures ferrets would be afraid of celery. Looks like we cut off Doctor Steve's control just in time to save nerd-boy. Steven Hereti: I said, break his neck now! Oasis: Why would I hurt him? I love him! Torg: You underestimated the power of love, Dr. Steve! She's not yours to control anymore! Bun-Bun: Right, she's mine. Kiki, hit that button... Bun-Bun: ...now! Bun-Bun: Oasis, you are under my control. Bring me alfalfa hay! Oh, and break nerd-boy's beck! Bun-Bun: Did it work? Did I get control of her? What does the screen say? Kiki: "Security self-destruct system activated, detonation in five minutes." Bun-Bun: No, below that. Kiki: "Deleting all data, 78% complete" Bun-Bun: ...Hey!!!! "Security self-destruct system"? "Deleting"?!? Kiki, did you hit the override button like I told you? Kiki: I hit them all so I must have hit that one! Torg: What the hell is that noise? Steven Hereti: That's... that's the security self-destruct system! That means my files have already been wiped! Thirty years of work... Steven Hereti: Torg! You're behind this... I'll kill you! Torg: Oooh, bad choice of words in front of a chick who's in love with me.. Torg: We've got three minutes till the place self-destructs, but I'm really thinking of leaving you here. Payback for your mind cntrol games. Steven Hereti: You still think I brainwashed Oasis? Torg: She told me you did. Steven Hereti: She was ordered to feed into whatever you said, and to embellish it to gain your trust! Steven Hereti: Ha-ha! Your ignorance is a testament to my achievement! Torg: Yeah, I get that a lot. Steven Hereti: The truth still eludes you! You think Oasis is an example of a human mind controlled, but she is a controlled mind made human! Steven Hereti: Don't you see? I always had control of her mind because I built it! Torg: She's a robot? Steven Hereti: Are we not all glorious machines? Although Oasis is very special. Oasis: Me? A robot? That's ridiculous! For one thing, that doesn't compute at all! Torg: Oasis, we've got to get out of here before this place explodes! Steven Hereti: She won't leave me, Torg. When I am in danger, she is programmed to stay with me until death. She'd even do anything to save my life, but I overrode that protocol when I ordered her to love you. Oasis: You're a mean old freak, and don't talk to my Torgy like that! Oasis: If we try to run for it, Steve will just come after us when our backs are turned! Torg: I'm not afraid of Dr. Steve. Let's get out of here together. Oasis: Torg, I'm about to kick you out of this building through that window, but know it's because I love you too much to see you blown up. Torg: This room doesn't have windows but I'll use the door thanks... Steven Hereti: Die! Steven Herti: Gak! Torg: Is everybody all right? Kiki: Can I have a marshmallow? Bun-Bun: Hey look what I snagged out of Stevey-boy's desk! Torg: Car keys? Torg: Whoa! Kiki: Ooooh, shiny! Torg: I half expected her to come staggering out of the flames like a frankenstein monster, nothing left but a lurching metal skeleton (that would be so cool), but I knew she was gone. Torg: As I watched the base crumble to the ground, I found myself staring into a void. Why did it all happen? Was there a lesson to all this? Is there meaning to life? Or is life just an exciting adventure devoid of any meaning like that "Blade Runner" movie? Bun-Bun: Come on, berd-boy! I don't drive sticks and I don't got all day. Torg: Oasis, although not human, seemed human in every regard, and even though I never had a chance to ask her, "what's with the hair?", she sacrificed herself in the most human way possible. She died to save me. Steven Hereti: Are we not all glorious machines? Torg: Steve's words came back to haunt me. Are we just machines? With veins instead of wiring, brains, instead of CPUs, and life insurance instead of warranties? I've always sort of believed that, but today I learned it is the opposite which is true. Man, machine, reality, what hols it together is we're all human, and that is the ultimate truth which we're afraid to face. Kiki: What are you looking at, Torg? Torg: I was thinking about Oasis, Kiki. Torg: Wait a minute, that doesn't make any sense! I mean, I could argue with myself all day about what makes us human, but I'm pretty sure that my deep-fat-fry-daddy lacks that "soul". Kiki: First she was mean, then nice, then mean, then nice again! Bun-Bun: She was a robot. Torg: She was real! Bun-Bun: Yeah, real weird. Torg: Bun-Bun spoke and the truth was apparent. It all made sense. The way every relationship I have turns out. The way my computer locks up for no particular reason. The way my fry-daddy occasionally spits hot oil in my face. Torg: Isn't everything a little weird? We all know the answer. Man, maching, reality, what holds it all together is we're all nuts! And that is the ultimate truth, and maybe that's all we need. Kiki: oops! Torg: That, and ferret-pee-proof upholstery. Zoë: Still no luck getting Riff back, huh? Gwynn: It's like he doesn't even know I'm around anymore, or he's avoiding me. I just need a new plan. Gwynn: I bet Riff would take notice if I started dating Torg! Of course I wouldn't do that. Zoë: Because the jealousy ploy is just plain evil? Gwynn: Oh yeah. That and he's a bit goofy, weird, and... Gwynn: ...and driving into the parking-lot in a Corvette! Gwynn: Where did Torg get a Corvette? Zoë: Is Bun-Bun with him? Gwynn: Yeah. Zoë: Then you probably don't want to know. Kiki: Home! Yay! Bun-Bun: See ya, nerd-boy. Gwynn: Hi, Torg! Nice car! Torg: Hi, Gwynn! Gwynn: Hey, I was just wondering about Halloween! I mean, you threw such a great party last year, I have some great ideas for this one! Want to talk about it over dinner? Torg: Sure! I'll grab Riff and a pizza and we can... Gwynn: Hey, it'll be more fun just the two of us. How about a nice restaurant? Torg: Um, Gwynn? Maybe you should put your glasses on, I'm over here. Anon: I'll pick you up at eight! Torg: Hey Riff! What's up? Riff: Hanging! Heard you had a fun vacation! Torg: Hey, are you still dating Gwynn or anything? Riff: I... um... uh... yeah. I think we're through. Torg: Oh, good! She and I are going out to dinner tonight. It's not a date or anything, but I figured... Riff: You bastard! Get the hell out of my apartment! Riff: Whoa, nice car! Torg: Thanks! And this is my apartment. Kiki: Why is Riff all mad at you, Torg? Torg: He's got some stupid rule about women. As soon as one of us dates a woman, she's off limits to the other. Now he thinks I'm breaking the rule and dating Gwynn, but we're not dating! Torg: It's a stupid rule anyway. We like totally different types of women. Except for Kimmy Sue. Oh, and Theresa, and Marta, and every fictional female character in every fighting game since Street Fighter... Torg: Anyway, it doesn't matter since this is in no way, shape, or form, a "date". Zoë: Torg's too stupid to see that Gwynn is only going out with him to make you jealous. You do know that's what she's up to, right? Riff: Let's change the subject. Zoë: Ok, let's order a pizza. What do you want on it? Riff: Torg's head! Zoë: Maybe I'll make that half pepperoni, half... Zoë: ...holly crap! "Torg's head" is on the menu! Riff: Let me see that! Bun-Bun: I just penciled that in when I was bored the other day. I put you under "Hot Entrees!" Hubba hubba! Riff: And why the hell am I listed under "Turkey Specials?" Torg: Wow! Gwynn must be going to the opera after dinner. She couldn't have dressed up for me, because this is not a date! Gwynn: I was thinking maybe we could go to "Le Snootier" for dinner. Torg: She's right! It would be silly to park this beautiful car in front of Denny's as I had originally planned! That must be the reason, since this is definitely not a date! Torg: Sure! Gwynn: I haven't been on a date in a while, this should be fun! Torg: La la la la, I can't hear her! La la la la, I can't hear her! Torg: Yeah! Sparky: My apologies for keeping you waiting, but after seeing the car you drove in and the woman you're dating, my nose started bleeding uncontrollably. Sparky: Might I recommend for the lady a complimentary poncho if you are to accompany this on to the monster-truck-pull after the meal? Gwynn: No, thank you. Torg: Hey, Sparky, why don't you just read us the specials? Sparky: "Read" ...right. From here you can no doubt not see the big black board upon which a neon marker has crudely scrawled "deep-fried-curly-ribs." Torg: That's sounds great! I'll have that! Sparky: Oh dear, I fear another nosebleed coming. Narr: An hour later... Torg: That was fantastic lobster! Gwynn, how was your meal-which-I-can't-pronounce? Gwynn: Very good! Gwynn: I know I just went out with Torg to make Riff jealous, but Torg can be somewhat charming! Torg: I'll be right back, gotta take a huge leak! Gwynn: Boy, I hope this jealousy thing works! Torg: I think maybe we should skip dessert. I just overheard some cops who want to arrest me for grand theft auto. Gwynn: You stole the Corvette? Torg: Not exactly. The previous owner, ...um... blew up. Gwynn: Blew up? Torg: Actually, he might not have blown up as much as being crushed by fiery rubble and burned alive. Anywho, I know there's a back door through the kitchen so I was thinking we should... Torg: Run! Gwynn: Like I'm going to run in this dress. Gwynn: Besides, I didn't do anything wrong. Sparky: My word, it appears your date has just "skipped out". I assume Madam has enough currency to cover the bill? Zoë: What's got Riff so mad? Gwynn: I told him about all the fun I had on my date with Torg. He's going to go confront Torg on it now. Zoë: I thought nothing happened on the date! Gwynn: Look, Riff is going to be mad at Torg for a while, but he'll get over it. Meanwhile, Riff will become more interested in me, and soon I'll have him back! Zoë: Did you know Torg just bought a Dreamcast? Gwynn: What's that got to do with anything? Riff: Ok, to recap... On taking Gwynn out to dinner:...? Torg: Big mistake, my bad. On Gwynn in general:...? Riff: Psycho chick, keeping my distance. Riff: On Dreamcast:...? Torg: Cool! On the news-story about scientists attempting to clone a wooly mammoth:...? Riff: Ok, but only because they're peaceful, dumb, and don't eat people. Narr: Meanwhile, in a secret government base where the cloning has already occurred... Percy: Wow! Tastes like Chickensaurus! Anon 1: Trick-or-Treat! Anon 2: Trick-or-Treat! Anon 3: Trick-or-Treat! Anon 4: Trick-or-Treat! Torg: "Drinky-Winky!" Cool costume! Riff: They were out of "Darth Mop" Where's your costume? Torg: I'll put it on after I finish decorating. Aylee: Mesa called Jar-Jar Stinks! Torg: Aylee, the name is "Jar-Jar Binks!" Aylee: Not according to the kids! Zoë: Torg, do you really think that outfit is appropriate? Torg: My sword is just too cool not to be shown off! Zoë: It just doesn't seem right. Torg: Nobody knows who Lord Torgamous was, and with this mask I become "Masked Medieval Dude!" Zoë: You wore those clothes when you ruled Mercia! You ruled a kingdom! And now you use it for a Halloween costume?!? Torg: But... but check out my sword! Riff: Hey Gwynn, didn't anyone tell you to wear a costume? Gwynn: You shut up! Zoë: That's a great costume, Kiki! Where's Bun-Bun anyway? Torg: Oh, making his rounds. You should have seen his costume, it was sooo cute. I wish I took a picture of it! Anon: Hey everyone! It's Pikachu! Anon: Pikachu! Yay! Narr: PokeyBun Bun-Bun: Alright kids, form a line and throw your candy and valuables in the sack over there. Narr: There's a lot of trick-or-treaters in the naked city and I gotta mug 'em all! Riff: Hey, Crystal, happy Halloween! Crystal: Hey Riff, haven't seen you at the bar in a while. So, got another demon for the party this year? Riff: Nope! Crystal: What do you got? Riff: Deviled eggs, but the yolks resemble famous politicians! Torg: I'm eating Ed Meese! Crystal: Now this is scary! Torg: Don't eat Al Gore, he's a bit stale. Zoë: Hi Dex! Dex: Hi Zoë! Thanks for inviting me! Check out my costume! Dex: I'm Austin Powers baby! Oh, behave, baby! Aren't you a naughty kitty! Dex: Oh baby! Yeah! Yeah! Zoë: This could be a long night! Dex: And meet my shagadelic girlfriend, Angela, dressed as Felicity Shagwell! Angela: Hi! Zoë: This will be a long night. Riff: Hey, this party is slowing down. We need to do something. Torg: How about ghost stories? Torg: I know this great one about this guy who had a deviled egg shaped like Janet Reno for a hand! And he only spoke in iambic pentameter! Riff: How about a seance? Torg: Yeah, Crys! You're all dressed for it! Gwynn: I wouldn't mess with seances. There are things out there... Let's just say it's better if they don't find you. Crystal: What are we talking about here, Gwynn? Gwynn: Possession, terror, death, eternal torment. Gwynn: My name is Gwynn. A long time ago I was taken and possessed by a demon. It caused me to lose my love, my job, my life. Crystal: I don't know how to do a real seance anyway. Torg: Then let's do a fake one like in the movies. Gwynn: When I was freed, some amount of the demonic power I had remained. I hide from it but it allows me to sense things. Crystal: Oh, the ones which always cause possession, terror, and death? Torg: Yeah but the torment only lsats about an hour and a half. Gwynn: For some reason, tonight I can almost hear the footsteps, and it scares me. Crystal: Oh, spirits, hear us! Bla, bla, bla. Gwynn: I tired to warn them, not to do anything to attract attention, but I hear it walking this way. Crystal: Give us a sign, yada, yada, yada. Gwynn: It's running this way! Gwynn: I had never met her, but I knew her from the stories Riff and Zoë told me. Gwynn: And from the way she looked at the crowd and saw only Torg with empty eyes. Gwynn: The on who loved Torg most, and who died by his hand. Gwynn: Val. Squeeky-Bobo: Die for me, love. Riff: Die you dead undead ghost-beast! Gwynn: Riff, you can't kill a ghost with lasers! Riff: I recalibrated the laser to effect gamma-gozer-waves making ectoplasm vulnerable. Gwynn: And when, exactly, did you do that? Riff: Well, I would have if I knew she was coming. Zoë: Guys! Riff! We're on the other side of the ghost! Quit shooting! Torg: Um... Hi, Val! Squeeky-Bobo: I am cast into hell. Torg: Whoa! Sorry to hear it! Squeeky-Bobo: I have lead a good life yet am cast into hell. For crimes not in life but in death. Unfair. Torg: Yupò Well! Um... so! What brings you here? Squeeky-Bobo: Only your love can save me. And until you do... Squeeky-Bobo: None shall leave here! Anon 1: All the doors have closed and locked! Anon 2: Including the bathroom! Riff: Damn! Now I have to go, and the continuous dripping caused by the walls bleeding ain't helping any! Squeeky-Bobo: My eternity is on trial now. I have only one hope to leave my eternal torment, and that is you. We must travel to the Court of Hell, and once they witness our love for each other, I shall be unshackled. Torg: Ok, how do we get to the "Court of Hell?" Squeeky-Bobo: I can bring your soul there, but first you must perform a ceremony to remove your soul from your body. Torg: Time out! I sort of like my soul where it is. Could I just initial a statement or something? Squeeky-Bobo: You can't do this one thing for me when I died for you? Torg: You didn't die for me! I killed you! Squeeky-Bobo: And I betcha feel guilty about it, dontcha? Torg: Yeah, all right, I'll do it. Squeeky-Bobo: The first step of the ceremony is to whack yourself in the face a few times with this axe... Torg: Time out again! Zoë: I can't believe you're really doing this, Torg! Torg: I not only killed Val in the present, but I didn't rescue her from her fate in the past when I could have. This is my last shot to save her. I'm not going to abandon her to hell! Riff: Torg... Torg: Look, we're all going to stay trapped here unless I do this, so it's the way it's got to be. Gwynn: Torg, there is something wrong about this ghost. I don't sense love towards you, I sense hate towards something else! Torg: Give it up, Gwynn. It's just not going to work between us. Zoë: Torg, do you really want to die this way? Squeeky-Bobo: We are journeying to eternity, what difference does it make if his mortal form dies in a Halloween costume? Torg: I think she was referring to driving an axe into my face multiple times. Squeeky-Bobo: Well, if not the axe, does anyone have a nail-gun? Riff: We'd need an extension cord. Squeeky-Bobo: Soon we'll be together, my love! Torg: I don't know if I can do this. Squeeky-Bobo: Just lift the axe to your face, love, and I'll give it a push. Zoë: Torg, don't kill yourself! It's not the real Val! She didn't recognize your outfit! Zoë: You're wearing her husband's clothes and she thought it was a cheap Halloween costume! Squeek-Bobo: Do'h, must have missed that. Torg: Hey! Yeah! Squeeky-Bobo: Don't listen to Gwynn! Zoë: I'm not Gwynn, I'm Zoë! And if you were really Val, you'd know that you hate me! Squeeky-Bobo: I'm starting to! Squeeky-Bobo: All right, you guys got me. I'm not Val. I'm from the Dimension of Pain, sent to kill Torg by dawn. Behold... Mr. Squeeky-Bobo! Torg: I don't believe this! The same thing happened last year, when that idiot-demon "Reakk" had to "kill me by dawn"! Squeeky-Bobo: And it will happen next Halloween, and every Halloween after until you are returned to the Dimension of Pain from which you escaped! Torg: But why me? I was only there for a little while, and I'm nobody! Squeeky-Bobo: No one leaves the Dimension of Pain! No one! Ever! Ever! Ever! Ever! Ever! Squeeky-Bobo: That and we have nothing better to do. Squeeky-Bobo: In fact, all we do is beat each other over the head with rocks, and I'm non-corporeal, so you can imagine how much fun that is. Squeeky-Bobo: To tell you the truth, the place really blows. Torg: Been there. Torg: So, every Halloween, the Dimension of Pain will try to kill me so they can capture my soul. Squeeky-Bobo: That's the gist of it, yeah. Torg: Hey, how'd you know who Val was? Squeeky-Bobo: We've been watching you closely through the viewing-pool for some time now. We got all the information we needed the other night in the bar... Torg: And I could have saved Val when we traveled to the past in the time machine, but I didn't, so I ended up destroying her anyway. Crystal: I'm usually pretty good at keeping track. That is only your second drink, right, Torg? Torg: Ok, then how'd you know what she looked like? Torg: This is what she looked like. See, I had to draw a picture because she's a vampire and they don't photograph well. Crystal: That's it. Torg's new cut-off limit is two drinks. Riff: I have a question. Why are you answering all our questions, instead of trying to kill Torg? Squeeky-Bobo: Sometimes verbalizing a problematic situation leads to new solutions. For example, I'm not trying to kill Torg because it would be hard for me. It takes a lot of energy to move physical objects with any precision. I can slam doors, push people, even send some kitchen knives flying through the air, but the chances of them hitting the mark are low. Squeeky-Bobo: Yup, all I can do is push things, create some illusions, possess people... Torg: Where'd he go? Squeeky-Bobo: Forgot I could possess people! Riff: Well, I'll be! Verbalizing a problematic situation can lead to new solutions!* Narr: * Learn more helpful problem-solving tips in A Ghost's Guide To Thinking Outside The Funerary Box, from Plan 2 Die Publishing! Gwynn: get out. Squeeky-Bobo: What? Squeeky-Bobo: Dammit! How the hell did you expel me like that?!? Torg: Hey! Zoë is possession-proof! Squeeky-Bobo: Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! Riff: Torg, when you bought those sharp and jagged lawn tools, you kept them here instead of storing them out in the tool shed, right? Torg: Why do you ask? Squeeky-Bobo: Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! Die, Torg! Torg: Wow, you are a crappy shot. Squeeky-Bobo: This job pisses me off. Bun-Bun: Kiki, what's with the mob running from the apartment? What did I miss? Kiki: Ugh. I'm not Kiki, I'm Riff. Ugh. Bun-Bun: Don't make me hurt you, tube-rat! Kiki: Well this ghost showed up to kill Torg, and it was Val but then it was a dwarf named Squeekerrries who slammed doors and made a mess and scared me! Everybody was locked in and we all had to use the bathroom but I knew where the secret bathroom was behind the couch! Then the dwarf ghost tried to possess Zoë and when he couldn't he got ... shook and ... all the ... berries got sad and cryed and said bad words. Bun-Bun: Kiki? Be Riff. Kiki: I dunno. Ugh. Bun-Bun: All right, what did I miss? Squeeky-Bobo: Bun-Bun! Squeeky-Bobo: Yes, it is I, back from the dead to avenge my death! Dawn approaches, so I must return to the Dimension of Pain, but rest assured, as soon as I give them Torg, they will give me you! Squeeky-Bobo: You are on my list, Bun-Bun. Enjoy what you can of life. Bun-Bun: Do I know you? Squeeky-Bobo: You know Mr. Squeeky-Bobo! Bun-Bun: One of Grahammy's friends? You're a Neebler elf, right! Squeeky-Bobo: Who the %$#@ is "Grahammy?" I'm Mr. Squeeky-Bobo, mother %$#@er! I'm Santa's... Bun-Bun: Damn undead Neebler elves. Torg: I thought he was a haunted lawn gnome. Riff: Hey, what's up? You look wired. Torg: Sugar-high off Halloween candy! Bun-Bun managed to get, like, ten tons of candy this year. That PokeyBun costume must have really worked for him! Torg: Where's Kiki? Riff: She's taking a nap in my workshop. A moment's peace. Torg: Want to see what happens if I throw this bag of Pixy-Sticks and Smarties into your workshop? Riff: Want to see what happens if I throw my foot at your ass? Torg: Oh, come on! Riff: No, Torg, you're not giving candy to my ferret! Torg: Why not? Riff: Why would you want to? Torg: To see what happens. Riff: Didn't think of that. This could be cool! Torg: I'll go get the body-armor. Gwynn: Zoë, you've been avoiding me since the Halloween party. What's going on? Zoë: I know it was you who forced the ghost out of me, I could feel it. You didn't tell us you still had magic powers. What else haven't you told us? Gwynn: I know what it's like to be possessed, I couldn't let it happen to a friend. I didn't want you guys to know about my powers because I didn't know how you'd react. Zoë: I don't know what worries me more, the fact that you might still be under the influence of a demon who wants to devour our souls and plummet the world into destruction, or the fact that you lied to me! Zoë: Ok, actually the demon-thing has me more worried that the lying-thing. Gwynn: Speaking of demonic influence, how about that Dick Clark! I mean, he looks so young! Zoë: Wow, Gwynn! I almost missed you changing the subject there. Narr: Warning: Administering candy to a ferret can only be done my trained professionals. Do not try this at home. Narr: Nothing to fear if you got the gear! Narr: Catcher's mask Narr: Dog-trainer body armor Narr: Bactine Narr: Static guard Narr: Distractionary sparkler Narr: Running shoes Narr: Protective eye-wear Narr: Lead shielding Narr: Decoy Mr. Sock-Lop Narr: Plastic straw filled with the most concentrated form of free-based sugar known to man. Riff: Prepare to initiate project pixie on my mark...... Riff: Now! Torg: Run!!! Kiki: Ooooooooh! Zoë: You've had these demonic powers since you came out of the coma and you didn't tell anyone? How do I even know you're the real Gwynn? Gwynn: I'm not possessed by a demon, Zoë! And this time I have control over my powers! Zoë: That's what you thought before, but you'd get a little mad and all hell would break loose! Gwynn: I'm mad now and nothing is happening! Zoë: What the hell was that? Gwynn: I have no idea what happened! Zoë: How can I believe you have control over your powers? Gwynn: I don't know! Riff: Hey, did you girls see Kiki shoot through here really quickly? Torg: Riff! She's headed this way! Zoë: That sound... was Kiki!?! Riff: Technically that sound was the sound-barrier breaking. Riff: At the rate she's moving, we'll never catch up with her, but she should make her way completely around the globe eventually. Torg: Then let's head this way and cut her off! Gwynn: And you're worried about me? Torg: Well, my machine's down, but that's ok. I'll just check my e-mail through Aylee's machine. Torg: She left her newsgroups open... "rec.food.cuisine.human"? "gov.us.eat.people.recipes"? "alt.serve.man.it's-a-cookbook"? "alt.food.dennys.Dennis"? Aylee: Sorry I'm late, I just ran out for a quick bite! Torg: I can see! You got a bit of foot there... Aylee: Where? Torg: Aha! Torg: We had some guests go missing at the Halloween party that I wanted to talk to you about. Do you know what happened to Shelly? She was in a hot-dog costume. Aylee: I did eat a hotdog at the party, but I really thought it was a hotdog! If it was a person dressed as a hotdog, how can I be blamed for making a mistake? Torg: What about Tod? He was in the cake costume. Aylee: Well, if a human happened to resemble a pastry, I could hardly be blamed for... Torg: He was dressed as a urinal cake! Aylee: Oh. Now I feel nauseous. Torg: Aylee, I told you that if you wanted to stay with me you'd have to learn to stop eating people! Aylee: So I eat the occasionaly person. It's no big deal. At least they are always of questionable moral fiber! Aylee: My doctor recommends a diet high in questionable moral fiber! It aids in digestion! Torg: You have a doctor who told you that? Aylee: "Had" a doctor. He told me about H.M.O.s and I ate him. Doctor's orders. Aylee: What's going on? Torg: Aylee, we all really care about you, but you have a problem. You're eating far too many people. That's why we're having an intervention. Aylee: I don't know what you're talking about. I don't have a problem. Kiki: Stay good, Aylee! Stay good! Torg: We have a friend named John who went through the "Cannibals Anonymous" program. I know you're not a cannibal, but it's the closest human-eating management program we could find. He was actually supposed to be here by now... Aylee: Belch! Torg: That's John's Hat! Riff: That's John's Hat! Zoë: That's John's Hat! Aylee: When he said he was "cured", I thought he meant like a ham. Aylee: I don't want to go! Torg: It'll be all right, Aylee. Aylee: They'll make fun of me. Torg: In one of Riff's trenchcoats, who's going to know you're not a human? Anon: Aaaaaah! Torg: Hey, "anxiety management" is on the third floor, buddy Aylee: Hi, I'm Aylee! I'm not really a human, I'm an alien from a far away dimension! I'm working for this really nice human named Torg! I'm his secretary! Percy: So, what are you doing at "Cannibals Anonymous"? Aylee: I've been eating too many other humans and Torg wants to break me of the habit. Percy: Ah, I see. Aylee: Who are you? Percy: I'm Percy, a young wooly mammoth, cloned by Hereti-Corp under government contract. My experiment was considered a "bust" because they wanted a dumb herbivore and I turned out to be a smart herbivore who could threaten humanity as top of the food chain. So they threw me to the curb. I, unlike you, enjoy eating humans. Aylee: So why are you here? Percy: My therapist thought it would be good for me. Aylee: A therapist! Maybe that's what I need! Was he any good? Percy: Only nutritionally. Mr. Cilantro: Hello! I'm Mr. Cilantro. Here at Cannibals Anonymous, we strive for the goal of not eating our neighbors through a 12-step program outlined in our little books entitled: "Those We Meet Are Not Meat!" Today we have a new memer, Aylee, from... Freaky-Fred: This meeting is a travesty! Freaky-Fred: A travesty I tell you! Mr. Cilantro: *sigh* What is it this week, Freaky-Fred? Freaky-Fred: This metting is for cannibals only! That... that "Percy" character is an extinct wooly mammoth, and that new thing, I don't know what the heck she is, but she ain't human, I can tell you that much! Mr. Cilantro: Every week you come up with a new excuse to disrupt our meetings! Last week it was "we can't let zombies in! They stop being human when they die and they only eat the brains!" Anon 1: Brainzzzz Anon 2: Fred suckzzzz Mr. Cilantro: The week before it was "telemarketing execs can't be cannibals because their lack of soul makes them less than human!" Anon 3: If it's any consolation, I feel worse about the marketing than I do the cannibalism! Mr. Cilantro: This is my official ruling! As long as you eat humans, you don't have to be human to be a cannibal! Mr. Cilantro: Herm. Mr. Cilantro: That might not be technically true, but it sounds warm and happy and non-judgmental so we're going to go with it. Freaky-Fred: What do you mean? It's such a simple definition! Cannibals are anyone who eat their own kind! Mr. Cilantro: Lawyers invalidate that definition. Have a seat, Freaky-Fred! Mr. Cilantro: Let's continue, shall we? Aylee, is there anything you want to share with the group? Aylee: Hi. I'm Aylee, and... and I'm a cannibal. Freaky-Fred: Hahahahahaha Mr. Cilantro: Everyone! Stop it! Freaky-Fred: Ha! Lookit the human wannabe! Mr. Cilantro: That's enough, Fred! Mr. Cilantro: Let's continue with our reformations. Everyone repeat after me. "Hands are for shaking, not for baking" Mr. Cilantro: "Brokers are for investing, not digesting". Percy: You know what I say, I say maybe we're not cannibals. Maybe it's ok for us to eat people. Mr. Cilantro: "Maria Shriver is not for our saliva". Percy: If guys like Freaky-Fred want to think we're monsters who eat people, let's give them what they ask for! I say let's go grab a snack across the street. Aylee: The strip-club? Percy: Naw, the ones with the implants are extra chewy but leave a nasty aftertaste, but pick any other building, kid! Riff: Hey, Torg! What's new? Torg: I'm worried about Aylee. I saw some of her homework the other night. I'm not sure, but I don't think step 3 in the Cannibals Anonymous 12-step program is "rotate person halfway through cooking!" Riff: She's eating people full-time now, huh? Torg: Not sure but she's got a new friend who might be behind it. I've never met Percy, but he sounds like he's got a real chip on his shoulder. Aylee: Hi guys! This is my friend, Percy! Torg: Baby Snuffleupagus! Riff: Baby Snuffleupagus! Aylee: What's a "Snuffleupagus"? Percy: The name of the chip on my shoulder. Torg: Hey Aylee! Where are you off to? Aylee: Out. Percy: Later, snack-boy. Torg: You know, Riff, I just don't like that Percy. I think he's a bad influence on Aylee. Riff: You're starting to sound like a teenager's mom. Torg: You're right, I'm being silly. I was young once too. I wonder what mischievous games those scamps are up to! Anon: Does it look like one of those gray bug-eyed aliens? Percy: Actually she kind of looks like a flower! Percy: Let me get this straight. This 'Torg' guy barely has two words for you before running off to do fun stuff with his other friends while you spend all day, every day maintaining his web-design business? Aylee: Yeah! Percy: I'm surprised you haven't eaten him yet! Aylee: Yeah. Percy: I have a great idea for a thanksgiving gag we can play on him for some pay-back! Aylee: No! Percy: No, not the "I have a diamond wedged between my molars, if you can dislodge it, you can keep it" gag. Quit being such a wuss. Aylee: Yeah. Torg: Well the Thanksgiving turkey is done, everybody! Gosh it sure is heavy! Zoë: Oh my god! Torg: Someone switched our turkey with a representative for the People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals! Percy: Happy cannibal Thanksgiving, snack-boy! Percy: Ha! Ha! Aylee: Ha! Ha! Torg: Aylee!?! This is not funny! Torg: Although, somehow I think he would have wanted it this way. Bun-Bun: Hey, is that homemade raisin-nut stuffing? Zoë: Aylee... I can't believe you'd kill someone and think it was funny! Aylee: Zoë? Don't worry, it was just a joke! Zoë: Torg, keep that monster away from me! Torg: Zoë, I'm really sorry about Aylee... Percy: Aw, let the dumb human go. Maybe we'll serve her up for Thanksgiving diner next year! Aylee: Uh... yeah... Aylee: Yeah! Torg: This is too much. Aylee, you're fired. Take your friend and your things and go! Aylee: What have I done? I've got no home! Zoë's afraid of me, Torg hates me... Aylee: It's all your fault! You kept telling me they didn't like me because I was different! But they did! And now they're gone and my whole life is screwed up and I'm all alone! Percy: Would you please shut up? Percy: I'm sick of your whining. If you like humans so much, why don't you marry them? I'm through with "Cannibals Anonymous" and I'm through with you! Aylee: Ok, now I'm alone. Bun-Bun: Hey there! Hold up! Your name's Percy, right? Percy: Yeah? What of it? Bun-Bun: I thought we should talk. I mean, we've got a lot in common. Humans call us "cute", which pisses us off. We don't let nobody get in our way, and we both kick ass! Percy: Yeah, I guess we are 'birds of a feather.' You proposing some kind of partnership? Bun-Bun: One man's 'birds of a feather' is another's 'muscling in on my territory.' Narr: A few weeks later: Mr. Cilantro: Torg, I am very happy to meet you. Aylee has told us all so much about you. She's been living in the community center and doing excellently with her abstinence from eating people. Mr. Cilantro: I must say, her turnaround is astounding, from being one of the most rebellious members of Cannibals Anonymous to its star pupil! Freaky-Fred: Mumble-mumble. Damn human-wannabe butt-kissing brown-nosing teacher's-pet alien! Aylee: Torg! Torg: Hi Aylee! Aylee: I'm so glad to see you! And you were right to kick me out! Torg: Hey, I could use a good secretary. Want your old job back? Aylee: Yes! Torg: Two conditions. No more eating people, and you have to keep clear of Zoë. She's really upset about the whole subject of you. Aylee: I guess there are some mistakes that saying "I'm sorry" won't fix. Riff: Like murder. Aylee: Are you going to stay for the class? Torg: We'd love to! Wouldn't we, Riff? Riff: Whatever. Narr: Halfway through the meeting... Mr. Cilantro: ...so one could say avoiding cannibalism is the simple difference between eating a head of lettuce and eating a head of Lester. Torg: Boy I sure am hungry! Good think I brought a sub! Riff: Torg, do you think that's a good idea? Bringing food in here? Torg: It's a ham sandwich, not a human sandwich, but darn this tough-to-open ketchup package! Torg: Oops! Freaky-Fred: Yum! Mr. Cilantro: Now, now, people! It's just ketchup! Torg: Actually it's special smokey ketchup, with a hint of hickory! Mr. Cilantro: You're not helping. Narr: ...and the feeding frenzy begins. Torg: Wow, when those cannibals swarmed and ate Mr. Cilantro, I thought we were dead! Luckily Aylee has the whole clsas distracted and eating each other. Anon 1: Aylee? You've been covering us in garlic-salt and butter-buds to distract us from eating your friends? Aylee: I'm sorry, but it's true. Freaky-Fred: Stop eating each other! They're the interlopers! They're the ones who are different from us! Let's eat them! Riff: Smooth move, loud-mouth! Torg: Sorry, but they won't attack as long as you have that laser cannon pointed at them! Riff: As long as they don't find out that my laser cannon only has a few shots left in it's charge! Freaky-Fred: Get them! Anon 2: Fast food! Torg: Smooth move! Riff: Shut up. Riff: We finally lost those damn cannibals! Torg: Hiding in that vat of mayo wasn't pleasant, but it worked! Riff: They got all the stairwells blocked, but there's got to be a way out of here! Torg: Let's keep moving, someone's coming. Torg: Hey, we can hide between those giant slices of bread! Riff: No Torg! It's a trap! Anon 1: Damn! We almost had 'em! Anon 2: Ok, Plan-B, we disguise the giant crock-pot as a jacuzzi. Torg: Those cannibals are right behind us! Riff: We'll cut through the convention hall, there's an exit on the other side! Riff: Back off, you several hundred cannibal bastards! Like eating people hih? Well get close to us and you can eat this! Anon 1: Huh? Anon 2: Wha? Torg: Riff! That gun is almost out of power! Riff: Torg, this laser cannon should have a shot or two left in it. All I need to do is give them a show of force, and they'll let us through. Observe. Riff: Die, zombie! Anon 3: nutzzz Riff: That should keep them back for a few... Anon 1: Get them! Riff: Hey, the ammo voice-reminder works! Anon 2: Soup's on! Torg: New plan, let's try to blend in. Aylee: Hi guys! Torg: Aylee! You've got to get us out of here! The cannibals are going to cook us and eat us! Aylee: I suppose I could try reasoning with them. Riff: "Reasoning with them?" They're not going to listen to reason! Kick their butts and get us out of here! Aylee: Violence never solves anything. I have chosen the way of peace. I've no more need to eat, kill, or even hurt my human brethren. Torg: Aylee, I was wrong to try and make you something you're not. You're right to be eating people, and to make it up to you, I want you to eat all the cannibals in this room right now. Aylee: Do you mean it? Or is this one of those messed-up selfish change-your-point-of-view-to-suit-your-particular-situation human inconsistencies? Torg: Who's the prettiest alien in the world? Aylee: Ok, O.K., I'll do it. Narr: While Aylee dines on the cannibals to protect her friends, cannibal "Freaky" Fred has other plans. Freaky-Fred: No alien cannibal-wannabee is gonna steal my thunder! (And lunch)! Torg: Aylee! Look out for the giant statue of Anthony Hopkins as Hannibal "The Cannibal" Lecter! Riff: Actually I think that was a statue of Anthony Hopkins from "The Road to Wellville." What does that movie have to do with cannibalism, you ask? Torg: Aylee! Riff: Well, I hear people gnawed their arms off to get out of the theatre. Anon: I know I did. Torg: Aylee needs help. Can we stay focused here, Riff? Torg: That's it! Our goose is cooked! Riff: We're toast! Torg: Our attempt to escape was "well done"! Riff: A job this well done is rare! Percy: Honk! Freaky-Fred: Your cooking puns won't save you now! Riff: Now that is food for thought! Percy: Honk! Percy: Hey, Freaky-Fred! Listen up, all you cannibals, Torg, Riff and Aylee are off limits. Beat it or die. Freaky-Fred: Bring it on, Percy! You ain't one of us! Anon 1: Yeah! Anon 2: Eat him! Anon 3: Baby Snuffleupagus! Anon 4: Lunch! Anon 5: Yeah! Aylee: ...Percy? Percy: Aylee, remember how I told you Hereti-Corp determined cloning me was a mistake? Well, the new motto of Hereti-Corp for this quarter is "even our mistakes are big!" Percy: Honk, honk, honk! Percy: You all right, Aylee? Aylee: I'll be fine, I heal quick! You saved us! Percy: Yeah, well, I was at the convention anyway. When I saw you in trouble... I couldn't let that happen... to a friend. Percy: Aw, don't get all mushy on me. I gotta run. Hereti-Corp's after the whole herd so we gotta make tracks. But thanks for teaching me a lesson, Aylee! Percy: I've learned that I can be friends, even with people different from me. Aylee: And I learned that true friendship is worth more than eating even the tastiest human. Torg: I learned I need to appreciate you more. I've been taking your friendship for granted when I should have listened with my heart. Riff: And I learned it's ok to eat people, if they're the bad guys. Freaky-Fred: Yet another narrow escape for me! But I will never stop hunting you Aylee. Non-human or not, I will eat you! Mr. Cilantro: I think not, Fred. Freaky-Fred: Teach! I thought you were eaten! What are you doing with that electric carving knife, that cup of gravy, and all the trimmings? Mr. Cilantro: I'm not only yhe Cannibals Anonymous president, I'm also a client. Freaky-Fred: Yeargh! Narr: This concludes our after-school special: "A Very Special Cannibal": Aylee's Story! Narr: Next week: Valerie Bertinelli stars in "I'm Not Leaving The Nunnery Without My Baby Cannibal" Kiki: Riff, I know this really funny knock-knock joke! Say "knock-knock!" Riff: Knock-knock. Kiki: Ooooh! I'll get the door! Narr: Zoë is not having a good time. Narr: She is angry and afraid of Aylee and her habit of eating people. Narr: She is angry and afraid of her own roommate, Gwynn, unsure of if she is controlling her demonic powers, or under their control. Narr: She is angry and has a crush on her college classmate Dex, who "doesn't know she's alive". Narr: And she is overall sad. Her grades are down and she's almost out of money. Narr: But she's looking forward to her Holiday Break and at least this week she's dressed as Oasis! Zoë: I'm not coming out dressed like this! Narr: Now I'm overall sad. Narr: Gwynn has become a classic Shakespearean tragic hero, walking a line between embracing her power, hiding from it, and getting Laser Eye Surgery. Narr: Before you try to guess which path she will take, remember the problems laser eye surgery caused Hamlet. I can say no more, for I have already said too much. Narr: Alright, I'll say this much, dating Riff appears to have turned her off to the laser eye surgery for now. Narr: Herm..... Torg: Hey guys! Look who's back! Narr: No comment. Sam Sein: As I prowl the city, I prowl not for the innocent, as my vampiric urges lead me, but I prowl on those who prowl for the innocent. Those who cross my path are... Sam Sein: Hey babes! Want to come party with Sam? Anon 1: Bite me, creep! Anon 2: Touch me and you're dead! Sam Sein: The curse upon my vampire soul means I must go on alone. Look out, prowlers, Sam the vampire's a prowler's prowler, for I am a vampire who... Sam Sein: Whoa! I just thought of the coolest comebacks to those lines! I gotta go find those chicks again! Kiki: oooh! Kiki: Hi Torg! Riff just got a new cyro... cryo... crojenical... oooh! What are you doing? Torg: Hey, Kiki. I'm seriously in the read and I need to find some contract work quick. Torg: "Columbia Internet, the friendliest, hardest-working and most neurotic little internet service provider is in need of a web-designer." Kiki: Oooh! Friendly and neurotic? Can I come too? Kiki: It looks like I'm going to have to go on location for the gig. Bun-Bun: Then I can rent out your room. Torg: I'm not going to be gone that long, Bun-Bun. Bun-Bun: Why not follow it up with a vacation? I hear "six feet under" is nice! Torg: I take it you won't miss me. Bun-Bun: I won't even have to aim for you if you don't come back. A.J.: Hi! I'm A.J>! I'm on my way to visit friends in Minnesota, but my car broke down. Can I use your phone? Bun-Bun: Oh please tell me more of your life story! Get bent. A.J.: What a cute widdle bunny! Bun-Bun: What the heck is a "Minnesota"? I finally get the place to myself and god sends me a replacement nerd-boy. A.J.: I give! I give! Narr: Meanwhile, in Riff's apartment... Riff: Damn I'm tired. Sludge-coffee from this morning might be my only hope. Riff: Hey! This isn't a coffee-cup! It's a giant oily hairball I found while cleaning my workshop! Damn! Got that stuff all over that cryogenic capsule I bought! I am tired! Riff: Uh-oh! A.J.: Oh well, I'll find a gas station eventually. This place is starting to give me the creeps. Riff: Run for your lives! A.J.: Ye gods! Crudosaur! Crudosaur: Roar! Riff: Crudosaur? You know what that thing is? I'm going to drag you to safety and you're going to tell me what it... Crudosaur: Rarroar! Riff: A.J., you called that thing a "crudosaur". Do you know what it is? A.J.: I've seen this kind of thing before! It was created from thick burnt black coffee, oily hair, and the hands of a Microsoft programmer! But crud-puppy is a little guy! Riff: Well, what if I spilled a whole pot of old coffee and oily hair on a cryogenic container filled with cloned Microsoft-employee body-parts? A.J.: Where the heck did you get... Riff: E-Bay. I was thinking of doing some genetic experiments. A.J.: So this thing is a shambling mound of Microsoft-programmer-parts. Riff: Actually the cryogenic capsule was labeled "Marketing Department." Crudosaur: Roar! A.J.: You're going to need a bigger gun! Riff: That's what I like to hear. How much bigger? Gwynn: Yeaaaa! Crudosaur: Roar! Gwynn: Riff! What the hell is that thing outside? Riff: Hi, Gwynn. Some monster. Don't worry, I think I'm on to a weapon that'll take it out. Gwynn: Who's the guy running around in circles and shooting wildly into the air? Riff: That's A.J.. I gave him my laser cannon and told him to keep it distracted. I think he snapped and thinks he playing Quake or something. Gwynn: Well, now his gun's pointing into the dirt and he's charging walls with his head. Riff: You all right, A.J.? A.J.: It took me months to master the mouse/keyboard combo, you expect me to get the hang of the arms/legs combo overnight? Riff: I have finally finished the secret weapon which will give us victory over the crudosaur. I call it... "a catapult!" A.J.: Riff, where did you get a Janet Reno clone? Riff: E-Bay. A.J.: Of course! What better way to destroy a shambling mound of cloned Microsoft employee body parts than to subject them to the clone of the attorney general who is even now waging a legal war against the Microsoft company... Janet Reno (clone): Aaaaaaah! A.J.: What did you do? The crudosaur isn't even nearby! Riff: The Janet Reno clone was just to test the catapult. A.J.: Then what clone are we going to use against it? A Bill Gates clone? Riff: No, a big-ass bomd. How else would we blow it up? Sometimes I just don't get you, A.J.! A.J.: It's on top of us! Riff: Bomb's away! A.J.: What now? Riff: Let's clean crud. A.J.: What are the tanks for? Riff: A mixture of Nair (hair remover) and glycerin/hazelnut "Coffee Buddie" coffee-sweetener. Riff: Since this monster is basically burnt coffee and oily hair... A.J.: It'll melt it like sulfuric acid! Riff: Sulfuric acid! Of course! I wish I had thought of that! A.J.: But this stuff will work fine, right? Riff: Yeah but the acid would have saved me the funny looks I got when I bought an entire case of Nair. A.J.: Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Riff: We got 'em all! A.J.: The Coffee-Sweetener clan rules! Riff: Don't make me frag you. A.J.: All right, I'll stop with the Quake references. Narr: A few hours later, and after much celebration... Everyone: Yay. Riff: Later, A.J.! And thanks for your help. Zoë: It was nice to meet you, A.J.! Riff: Let's go, we're supposed to meet Torg at the bar. A.J.: Bye, Riff! Bye, Gwynn! Bye, Zoë! A.J.: Goodbye, Bun-Bun. Bun-Bun: This is like the last episode of "Little House on the Prairie". Somebody get me a kleenex. Zoë: That A.J.'s sure a nice guy. Where'd he come from, anyway? Bun-Bun: Said he was on his way to Minnesota or something. Riff: Minnesota? Why the heck would he stop here? A.J.: Wait! Wait! My car's still dead! I just need a phone! Guys? A.J.: Guys!? Guys? A.J.: Ye nuts. Crystal: So, Torg, how's life? Torg: Hi Crystal! It sucks. Work sucks. Life sucks. Crystal: This close to 2000, and with the holidays, you'd think everyone would be happy and getting along with each other. Torg: Not quite the case. Crystal: I can tell. All your friends are sitting apart from each other. Torg; Aylee had this... eating disorder, now Zoë doesn't want to be near her anymore. And something must have happened between her and Gwynn since they don't seem to be getting along too well. Tough situation since she's living with Gwynn. And I think Gwynn is mad at me for leaving her to pick up the check at that restaurant. It's all like some big soap opera. Crystal: What about Riff? Why isn't anyone sitting hear him? Riff: The raw onion and garlic sandwich sounded like a good idea at the time. Torg: Point that way when you talk, you're curdling my beer. Torg: Happy belated Hanukkah, man! Riff: Merry early Christmas, buddy! Riff: We both got each other six-foot subs this year, right? Torg: I guess both packages leaking oil and vinegar all over the floor was a give away. Zoë: Whoa! Whoa! Eek! Riff: That looks like it hurt! Torg: Not as much as if I use this sub as s club to beat you about the head and shouders! Riff: En guard! Zoë You better hope you both kill each other before I can. Torg: Iyam Eenigo Montoya. You keeled my fatherl. Prleparle to die! Riff: There can be only one! Riff: Holiday-warpped six-foot-sub-sandwich-swordfights rule! Torg: Lunchmeat war! A new holiday tradition is born! Zoë: That's a beautiful Christmas tree, Torg! What the heck is it doing in my apartment? Torg: If I set it up in my apartment, Bun-Bun would just chew it down in five minutes. Besides, you know he gets a little weird around Christmas. Bun-Bun: Shotgun shells!* Shot to hell! Santa blown away! He can beg for mercy then, become a fine red spray. Narr: * Sung to the tune of "Jingle Bells". Torg: I'll just tap this tree out and we'll be set to decorate. You'd be surprised what a good price you can get by picking up your tree over a month early! Torg: Good grief! Zoë: Before I can kill you, any idea how to get tree-sap out of a deep-pile carpet? Aylee: What a crappy tree. Zoë: What a mess! Riff: Torg, you've ruined Christmas for me, and I don't even celebrate it! Gwynn: What yuck-head. Kiki: Torg, of all the Torgs in the world, you're the Torgiest. Torg: I'm sorry I picked a bad Christmas tree. Isn't there anyone who can tell me what Christmas trees are all about? Riff: "And lo, the Huns and other germanic tribes did drape evergreens with the intestines of their slain enemies to ward their encampment against intruders." And that, Torg, is where garland on Christmas trees comes from. Gwynn: That's disgusting! Riff: It's true! I read it on the internet! Torg: I just thought if we all spent a nice Christmas together that we'd start getting along better, like we used to. Zoë: I never thought it was such a bad little tree. Maybe it just needs a little love. Kiki: And more decorations! Aylee: Yeah, maybe all we need is some lights and tinsel! Gwynn: And wine! Riff: And shellac! Aylee: Oooooooooo Kiki: Oooooooooo Gwynn: Oooooooooo Riff: Oooooooooo Aylee: Loo, loo, loooooo, loo-loo, loo, loo-oo* Kiki: Loo, loo, loooooo, loo-loo, loo, loo-oo* Gwynn: Loo, loo, loooooo, loo-loo, loo, loo-oo* Riff: Loo, loo, loooooo, loo-loo, loo, loo-oo* Zoë: Wow, it really is beautiful! Torg: Plus it came with a plastic tree-bag so we can throw it to the curb as soon as it becomes inconvenient! Narr: *Loo'd to the tune of "Hark the Herald Angels Sing" Narr: Just past midnight on Christmas day... Bun-Bun: Turn around and smile, fat-boy! You're on candid gun-scope! Mrs. Claus: Don't shoot! Bun-Bun: Mrs. Claus? Mrs. Claus: I had no choice. You've really driven my husband over the edge, Bun-Bun. He's still somewhere floating in orbit, plotting his next move, leaving me to save Christmas. I not only have to take care of everything I normally do around the holidays, now I have to take care of everything he does too. Mrs. Claus: And everything means everything, so die, bleeper bleeper! Bun-Bun: Shooting the gun out of my hand with your first bullet, you're a better shot than your hubby! Mrs. Claus: You'll find I'm better than him at everything! Mrs. Claus: Yeaaaargh! Bun-Bun: Even at falling into traps, I see. Mrs. Claus: Aaaaah! Bun-Bun: This wasn't even half-way entertaining, but capping his broad should really tick Santa Claus off. Mrs. Claus: Ten percent! Bun-Bun: Come again? Mrs. Claus: You can have ten percent of all our profit from all our toys, merchandise, everything! All of it! Just let me live! Bun-Bun: Twenty percent. Mrs. Claus: Fifteen percent! Bun-Bun: Twenty-five percent, and gross, not net! This ain't the freakin' used car lot here. Mrs. Claus: All right! All right! Mrs. Claus: It'll financially ruin us for Christmas next year, but I'm sure you don't care. Now I know why you make the top of the naughty list every year. Bun-Bun: Oh, and another thing. I want top of the "nice list" next year! Mrs. Claus: What? That's not something you can buy, bribe, or... Mrs. Claus: All right! I'll do it! But why on earth do you even care what list you're on? Bun-Bun: Just the knowledge that it'll drive fat-boy up a wall. Narr: The following week... Grand Central Station. Zoë: I still don't know how you guys talked me into coming to New York City to watch the ball drop! Torg: You said you wanted to do something exciting to ring in the year 2000. Riff: Or it was the stupid-pill we put in your drink. Not sure which. Torg: I think we want to head that way. Zoë: Torg! I didn't see the blac eye or the welt on your forehead! Did you get mugged while we weren't looking? Torg: Naw, a package came for Bun-Bun right before we left. Torg: Hey Bun-Bun! This was left on the stoop for you. A fruit basket, from the North Pole? Torg: What's it say? Who's it from? Bun-Bun: Now I'm a tad bit miffed. Zoë: So Bun-Bun beat you up because he got an anonymous fruit basket? Torg: Beat? Nope, I smacked my head on the door frame as I dove out the door to avoid a spray of bullets. Narr: New Year's eve... Torg: It took forever to get here but despite all the jams and crowds we've finally made it to Times Square! Riff: Yeah, right in the middle of it all! Zoë: This sucks! I'm freezing, and it's too crowded! We can't see anything! Riff: Have no fear, I brought my new "power-stilts" for us. With a push of a button you suddenly stand ten feet higher! Torg: I'm wearing mine. I'm going to try it now! Zoë: You launched Torg into orbit! Riff: Let me check my notes. Narr: New York City. New Year's eve, 1999. High atop Times Square, a brand-new New Year's ball prepares to make its 77 foot slow drop to ring in the new year. Narr: With the year 2000 before us, never before has so much fear and so much hope been focused on a single occasion. Narr: With over a million in attendance, and over a billion watching from their homes, never has so much fear and so much hope been focused on one single ball. Narr: For Torg, the fear is winning. Torg: Riff, I'm going to kill you if I live through this! Anon 1: Mayor, we have a problem. There's a guy on the ball. He's dressed mostly in black but doesn't appear to be a terrorist. Luckily he's on the far side of the ball, and we've restricted the video feed to the Broadway cameras so the public is not aware. The media has been contained. We're attempting to compensate for the added weight so the ball drops at the right speed. How do you want us to handle him? Anon 1: The mayor wants us to initiate operation "Gamma Alpha." Anon 2: He wants us to fly him up in a helicopter so he can personally punch the guy in the nose? Anon 1: No, that's "Gamma Beta". Get me the president on line two and... Anon 1: Sir? Oh I'm sorry, I always mix them up. Anon 1: "Gamma Alpha" is the nose-punching thing. Anon 2: I thought he was saving that for the senatorial debates! Anon 3: We dropped the ball! It's falling like a brick! Anon 4: Hit the manual brakes! Narr: The last minute of 1999: Torg: Aaaaaaaaaa Crowd: 58... 57... 56... 55... 54... 53... 52... 51, 50, 49, 48, 47, 46, 45, 44.. 43.. 42.. 41.. 40.. 39.. 38.. 37, 36, 35, 34, 33, 32.... Torg: eep! Crowd: 32,... 32,... 31, 32,... 31, 30-29-28-27,... 27,... 27... 28-27... Anon: Good news, mayor! We adjusted the video-feed speed so the folks at home will never know the ball malfunctioned! And what's even better, the guy on the ball fell off! So the last ten seconds of the countdown will go flawlessly! Anon: Um... no sir, I don't know where the guy fell. No reports of a "jumper". It doesn't matter, we made it! We're down to the last 10 seconds! Crowd: 10 Crowd: 9 Crowd: 8 Crowd: 7 Crowd: 6 Crowd: 5 Torg: 8 Crowd: 3 Crowd: 2 Bun-Bun: 1 Aylee: 1 Kiki: 1 Crowd: Happy Year 200! Narr: Ok, so technically it's 2000, but it says 200! In any case, welcome to the New Millenium! Narr: Ok, so technically it's not the new millenium until 2001, but it sure feels "millenium-ish"! Narr: Wishing you and yours a safe and happy <reverb*gt;Millenium-Ish-Thingy-2000!</reverb> Bun-Bun: Hurray! *hic*