The scene: The DFO clubhouse. It looks deserted, except for Darkest Timeline Zach Morris, still happily comatose and clad in a vintage John Travolta white disco suit, standing near the bar.
Doktor Zymm (peaking out of her lab): Hello…? Vere ist everyone? Hmm…
Doktor Zymm ducks back into her lab, then appears seconds later, sliding across the floor in her socks.
Doktor Zymm (her lab coat flapping as she slides): Veeeeeeeee!
As she slides past the TV, Doktor Zymm notices several sticky notes stuck to it.
Doktor Zymm (grabbing the notes): Zo! Maybe zese vill tell me zomezing.
Doktor Zymm reads the notes.
Doktor Zymm: “Gone to Vegas vith Mooze und Marc. Back zoon. OSZ.” Vell, zo long as zey are good boyz… Ach! Vat are ze odds of zat? Zis one ist from Covalent Blonde…”Following idiots to Vegas. I’ll keep zem out of trouble.” Vell, good luck mit zat! Hmm…”Help! Kidnapped by Covalent Blonde! P.S. Please feed my cat. Y.R.” I did not know Yeah Right has die kitty! “If not back by April, please tape WrestleMania. Redshirt.” Ja, ja, I vas goink to vatch zat myzelf. “Arr. Pirate Zloth.” Always to ze point!
There’s a knock on the front door. Doktor Zymm slides over and opens it, to find Low Commander of the Super Soldiers standing outside in his silver jumpsuit.
Low Commander of the Super Soldiers: Doktor Zymm! Err, I mean… Greetings, fellow citizen of the 21st century! Gosh, great weather we’re having! Have you seen a rather largish fellow in sunglasses?
Doktor Zymm: Zo…you are from ze future.
Low Commander of the Super Soldiers: Wha-at? No! I’m not from the future! What gave you that idea?
Doktor Zymm: Vell, ze zilver jumpzuit ist eine dead giveaway.
Low Commander of the Super Soldiers (looking at his jumpsuit): No! It’s… I’m, um…Canadian?
Doktor Zymm: All right, zen…who ist der Canadian Prime Minister?
Low Commander of the Super Soldiers (surreptitiously looking at his techno-doohickey): Umm…Garry Trudeau?
Doktor Zymm: Close, but nein. Zo, you are from ze future, und you are looking for Mooze.
Low Commander of the Super Soldiers (shaking his techno-doohickey in frustration): Frek! These things always have problems with temporal fluctuations…I mean, when you cross the border.
Doktor Zymm: Give it up.
Low Commander of the Super Soldiers: Ah, frek! The Empress is not going to be happy with me…
Cut to: The basement of the Angry Girl Scout’s house. Ballsofsteelandfury, still in the grip of a Chinese finger puzzle, is trying to wake up JJ Fozz, Lord Revisisle and Rikki-Tikki-Deadly.
Ballsofsteelandfury: Hey, come on, guys! Wake up!
JJ Fozz (coming to): Ugh…stop shouting, dumbass. My head is killing me.
Lord Revisisle (also waking up): Where the heck are we?
JJ Fozz: The last thing I remember was that girl at the door…
Ballsofsteelandfury: She’s the one who kidnapped me! Then she…she did this…
Ballsofsteelandfury holds up his trapped fingers.
JJ Fozz (rolling his eyes): Oh, for…
JJ Fozz grabs the Chinese finger puzzle, then pulls out Ballsofsteelandfury’s fingers.
Ballsofsteelandfury: I’m free!
Ballsofsteelandfury shoots his finger guns.
Ballsofsteelandfury: Oh, yeah!
JJ Fozz (to Lord Revisisle): I shouldn’t have freed him.
Lord Reisisle: Balls, just what is going on here?
Ballsofsteelandfury: I have no idea. Really. I was at the DFO clubhouse, then there were allegations of cookie fraud, and there was a bus and a flagpole and…then I ended up here.
JJ Fozz: Well, that doesn’t help at all.
Ballsofsteelandfury: At least you guys came to rescue me! I really appreciate it.
JJ Fozz: Well, we weren’t going to let someone else kick your dumb ass. That’s my job.
Lord Revisisle (spotting the door): Hey, there’s a way out of here!
Lord Revisisle tries the doorknob, but it’s locked.
Lord Revisisle: Welp, I tried.
JJ Fozz: Good lord, you Revisiles really are quitters. Move your ass, I’ll open that door.
[DOOR FLIES OPEN]
The Angry Girl Scout stands in the doorway, glaring menacingly at the DFOers.
JJ Fozz: You! Look, kid, I’m getting tired of getting jerked around here. You let us out of this basement, or…
The Angry Girl Scout casually waves a hand at JJ Fozz and he’s sent flying across the room, where he lands on the still-unconscious Rikki-Tikki-Deadly.
JJ Fozz: What the hell…?
Angry Girl Scout: Now that I have your attention…
Lord Revisisle: You okay, Fozz?
JJ Fozz: I’m fine. Rikki’s surprisingly soft.
Ballsofsteelandfury (finger guns): Can’t keep the Fozz down!
Angry Girl Scout (glaring even more menacingly): As I was saying…
Lord Revisisle: I’m feeling a bit soft after our trip, too. I’ve really gotta get back to the gym this week.
The Angry Girl Scout clears her throat…angrily.
JJ Fozz: No kidding! All that rich food and alcohol really hits the ol’ waistline.
Ballsofsteelandfury: Hey, we should do a Gym Day! You know…make a day every week where we go to the gym together.
Lord Revisisle: That’s not a bad idea.
JJ Fozz: Have to admit, even a dumbass can be right occassionally.
Angry Girl Scout: If you’re done…
Ballsofsteelandfury: How about Tuesdays? That’s a good day for me.
JJ Fozz: Not me. I was thinking of Monday. You know, start the week off right.
Lord Revisisle: That’ll work until September. MNF, remember?
JJ Fozz: Those games are crap!
Ballsofsteelandfury: How about Wednes…
Angry Girl Scout (raging): ENOUGH!!!
The basement gets darker and noticeably colder, and a gust of air sweeps through the room.
Angry Girl Scout: You guys really push my buttons, you know that? Well, no more playing nice…now I’m gonna get serious.
Thunder crashes and the wind swirls around the DFOers.
Ballsofsteelandfury (shouting to be heard above the din): Are Fridays out…?
To be continued…