The scene: The Door Flies Open clubhouse, where the DFOers are gathered for Thanksgiving. Beerguyrob is working the bar and chatting with King Hippo, Marc Trestmans Windowless Van and WCS, while Yeah Right, Teddy’s Bridge Over Troubled Water and Rikki-Tikki-Deadly play video games on the big screen TV.

Yeah Right: Woo! I win again! You guys really need to brush up on your Madden skills.

Teddy’s BOTW: Nrf.

Rikki-Tikki-Deadly (shaking his controller): I think my thingy’s broken.

Teddy’s BOTW (also shaking his controller and nodding in agreement): Grrf!

Yeah Right: You guys are sore losers, you know that? Now where’s Pirate Sloth? He was gonna play the Seahawks against my Vikings.

Marc Trestmans Windowless Van (wandering over): Oh, he and Fozz are, like, visiting Moose, man.

Cut to: Future Moose’s virtual bedchambers. Pirate Sloth is there, in the form of Lynda Carter, while JJ Fozz is in Debbie Harry.

Oh, stop that. You know what I meant.

Debbie/Fozz: So I told that dumbass that if he didn’t sit down and shut up, I was gonna stick my foot so far up his ass…

Lynda/Sloth: Yar, indeed. An’ I did learn to not take Fozz to any more spelling bees.

Future Moose: It’s nice of you guys to keep me company in here. I just wish I could be out with you guys, since it’s Thanksgiving and all.

Debbie/Fozz: Thanksgiving! Crap! That’s what I was forgetting! Zymm wanted me to bring the cranberry sauce… Hey, maybe that In-N-Out across the street has some! I’ll see you guys later.

Future Clone Debbie Harry goes back to swinging a pillow and tee-heeing as JJ Fozz leaves.

Lynda/Sloth: Yar, that do be mesmerizing…

Cut to: The DFO clubhouse again. JJ Fozz rushes out of Doktor Zymm’s secret lab and races outside. He gets outside and is in the street when he’s bathed in a bright green glow.

JJ Fozz: What the hell…?

Suddenly Doktor Zymm’s RV appears. It hits the street with a screeching of tires, and fishtails back and forth ominously as Old School Zero, who is behind the wheel, slams on the brakes. The RV’s tires smoke and squeal as JJ Fozz stands in the street, hands on hips, glaring. With mere inches to spare the RV stops in front of Fozz.

[DOOR FLIES OPEN]

Covalent Blonde exits the RV, followed by Moosemas Gorilla and Horatio Cornblower.

Covalent Blonde: Hey, Fozz!

JJ Fozz: CB. Say, where the hell have you people been?

Abraham Lincoln steps out of the RV, tips his stovepipe hat, and walks toward the clubhouse. PK then exits, followed by Future Clone Debbie Harry.

PK (waving): Hi, Fozz!

JJ Fozz: Dumbass.

Brocky (getting out of the RV): OK, move it, you two. We’ll let DTZM decide what to do with you.

Horatio Cornblower (shrugging his tiny shoulders): It’s kind of a long story…

JJ Fozz: Save it. I don’t really care. I just need some cranberry sauce for Zymm.

OSZ (getting out of the RV): Holy cow, is it Thanksgiving already? All this time travel really messes with you.

JJ Fozz (continuing on toward the In-N-Out): Good luck explaining all of this to Zymm.

Covalent Blonde (to Horatio): I say we blame OSZ.

OSZ: Hey!

Horatio Cornblower (as they walk toward the clubhouse): Sounds good to me.

OSZ (following): Not cool, you guys!

Moosemas Gorilla: Ook-ook.

Horatio Cornblower: Right. We tried to talk him out of messing around with the RV, but…

Covalent Blonde: Would he listen to us? Noooo….

OSZ: You guys are real dicks sometimes…

Moosemas Gorilla: Ook? Ook-ook!

Cut to: Inside the clubhouse, where Ballsofsteelandfury is now sitting at the bar, covered in turkey feathers.

Ballsofsteelandfury (picking off feathers): Well, I finally chased down Zymm’s turkey. This one was even bigger than last year’s. And angrier. It was terrorizing an Asian market when Lord Revisisle and I finally caught up to it.

WCS: How did you guys actually catch it?

Ballsofsteelandfury: We used Otto as a distraction. We rolled him across the floor and when the turkey chased him, we used the nets.

Beerguyrob: Good plan!

Ballsofsteelandfury: It was…for everyone except Otto. The turkey kind of…ate him.

WCS: You’re kidding…right?

Ballsofsteelandfury: I wish I was. Zymm said he’ll be fine, since he’s pretty much invulnerable, but he’s gonna be one pissed-off… Hey, is that Abraham Lincoln?

The DFOers at the bar look over to see Abraham Lincoln playing video games with Yeah Right.

Beerguyrob (getting a penny out of his pocket and looking back and forth): Looks like him.

WCS: Huh. Hey, any idea when dinner’s gonna be? I’m starving.

Ballsofsteelandfury (shrugging, which sends feathers floating everywhere): Your guess is as good as mine. At twelve minutes a pound I’d say maybe…next week?

Cut to: The DFO kitchen, where a yuuuge turkey sits in a pan on the floor. Doktor Zymm is injecting stuffing into it with a futuristic doohickey that looks like a cross between a jackhammer and a flamethrower, while Lord Revisisle is on a ladder, basting the turkey with a paint roller. Man in Plaid #2’s head sits on the counter, flour spots on his face, with SPONCH! crumbs scattered around him.

Man in Plaid #2’s Head: I think you missed a spot.

Lord Revisile (dipping the roller into a yuuuge bucket of butter): Zymm, tell your head I don’t need his help.

Doktor Zymm (pausing and lowering her safety goggles): I vill not tell you two again. Get along, or no Thanksgiving dinner for you!

Otto’s Brain (rolling up, looking rather…gross): Hey, Zymm, you maybe want to clean me up? I feel as grungy as that time I went to a Raiders home game in my Chiefs sweatshirt.

Doktor Zymm: It ist not zat bad.

Lord Revisisle (to Otto’s Brain): You’re just lucky we got you out of the turkey before Zymm baked it.

Doktor Zymm: Ach! Zank you for reminding me! I vill have to varm up meine atomic projector…

Cut to: Future Moose’s virtual bedchamber again. Future Clone Lynda Carter is now bouncing on the bed, tee-heeing and swinging a pillow, while Future Clone Debbie Harry is wandering around the room, looking confused.

Future Moose (waving a hand): Yo, over here. Hey, who are you, anyway?

Debbie/Teddy: Brrf.

Future Moose: Teddy? Oh, for… No offense, buddy, but you’re not exactly a great conversationalist.

Debbie/Teddy (pawing at the aquarium): Rrgh.

Suddenly Future Clone Lynda Carter sits up on the bed, and stops swinging the pillow.

Future Moose (relieved): Hey, company at last!

Future Clone Lynda Carter leaps off of the bed and runs over to Future Moose, picking him up in a big hug.

Future Moose: Well, I’m happy to see you, too! Whoever you are…

Lynda/Moosemas Gorilla: Ook! Ook-ook!

Future Moose (sighing): Of course…

To be continued…