The scene: Doktor Zymm’s laboratory in the DFO clubhouse. Zymm has a pair of super hi-tech surgical magnifying glasses on, and is carefully working on the body of Man in Plaid #2, trying to extract one of the microscopic fusion cells that power his android form…without, say, dropping it and vaporizing not only the clubhouse, but pretty much everything in a 50-mile radius.

So, y’know, no pressure.

Man in Plaid #2’s head sits next to Zymm, on her workbench. He’s crunching a SPONCH! cookie and offering helpful advice.

Man in Plaid #2’s Head: So this Percy Po is floating around in space…?

Doktor Zymm (concentrating): Ja…vell, maybe. He might have entered ze eath’s orbit und…

Man in Plaid #2’s Head: Burned up on reentry?

Doktor Zymm: I vas going to zay, he might have crash-landed somewhere.

Man in Plaid #2’s Head: Maybe. But the impact certainly would have obliterated him.

Doktor Zymm: Vell…vait, how did ve end up talking about zis, anyway?

Man in Plaid #2’s Head: I was just curious if you were dating anyone…

[DOOR FLIES OPEN]

Ballsofsteelandfury enters the lab.

Ballsofsteelandfury: Hey, Doc…are you busy?

Doktor Zymm (glancing up): Vat is it, Balls?

Ballsofsteelandfury: Umm…you know those trackers that you have implanted in all of us that I’m not supposed to tell anyone about?

Doktor Zymm: Ja.

Ballsofsteelandfury: Well, do you think you could track down JJ Fozz? I think he’s had another…incident.

Doktor Zymm (taking off the surgical glasses): Das ist nicht so gut…

Doktor Zymm opens a drawer on her workbench and pulls out a Point-Actuated Universal Location/Relay User Data Display.

Doktor Zymm (frowning at the readout): Hmm…it appears he is in…Chihuahua.

Ballsofsteelandfury: Fozz is in Mexico? Yikes. There’s an international incident waiting to happen.

Doktor Zymm: You zpeak Zpanish, ja?

Ballsofsteelandfury: Si. Looks like I’m going on a road trip. Can I borrow the RV…?

Doktor Zymm: Nein. Old School Zero ist…repairing it.

Cut to: Old School Zero, under the dashboard, trying to sort through the mass of wires leading to Doktor Zymm’s time machine, which he had hastily installed a (relatively) short time ago.

OSZ (complaining): Man, this thing was easier to put in than it is to take out…want to hand me a pair of channel locks?

Abraham Lincoln (sitting in the passenger seat with an open box of Diggler’s Donuts): I have no idea what those are. But do you want one of these circular confections with the bright green glazing?

Cut to: Doktor Zymm’s laboratory again.

Doktor Zymm: Vy don’t you take ze Moozemobile?

Ballsofsteelandfury: That big car Moose bought down in Florida? I didn’t even know it was still running.

Doktor Zymm: Oh, ja. I could not zleep one night, zo I installed a new engine in it. Und a new transmission.

Ballsofsteelandfury: Wow. When I can’t sleep, I usually make cookies.

Man in Plaid #2’s Head: Did someone say…cookies?

Doktor Zymm: You have had enough of die Kekse for today. Oh, und new vindshield vipers, too.

Ballsofsteelandfury: Okay, Doc. I’m gonna take off. Partly because I want to get on the road, but mostly because your talking head is creeping me out.

Ballsofsteelandfury backs out of the lab, keeping an eye on Man in Plaid #2’s head the whole way. Back in the DFO clubhouse, he spots Low Commander sweeping up behind the bar.

Ballsofsteelandfury: Prospect! You up for a road trip?

Low Commander: Well…

Ballsofsteelandfury: I wasn’t asking. You’re up for a road trip.

Covalent Blonde (getting up from the couch): Shotgun. Where are we going?

Ballsofsteelandfury (shooting finger guns): You got it, CB! Mexico here we come!

The three head outside to Moose’s car, where they find Marc Trestmans Windowless Van in the back seat.

Marc Trestmans Windowless Van (leaning out the window): Hey, man! Like, I hear we’re going to Mexico!

Ballsofsteelandfury (to Covalent Blonde): How the heck…?

Covalent Blonde: I have no idea. He’s like some kind of road trip savant.

Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: Mexico! Woo! The old country, man!

Ballsofsteelandfury: Marc, you’re not from Mexico.

Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: No kidding, man. I’m from, like, somewhere…in the Midwest, I think.

Ballsofsteelandfury: So…

Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: I remember it was like, flat, man…

Ballsofsteelandfury: But it wasn’t Mexico. So why did you call it the old country?

Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: Because it’s like, old, man. Like, Mesoamerica is one of the cradles of civilization, man. The Olmec probably invented the zero. Without them, OSZ would just be, like, Old School.

Ballsofsteelandfury: Well, sure…I mean, I knew that.

Covalent Blonde: Did you?

Ballsofsteelandfury: Just get in the car.

Ballsofsteelandfury get in the front of the car, while Low Commander joins Marc Trestmans Windowless Van in the back seat.

Covalent Blonde: So why are we going to Mexico, anyway?

Ballsofsteelandfury: It’s kind of a long story, but Fozz is down there and he might need our help.

Covalent Blonde: Fozz? I’m not sure I can picture a situation where Fozz would need anyone’s help.

Cut to: JJ Fozz, walking down a dusty backroad in Mexico. He’s still only wearing his jeans, and he’s still holding the can of cranberry sauce. A rickety old pickup truck drives past him, and then pulls over.

JJ Fozz (rushing up to the truck and opening the door): Thanks, buddy. You’re gonna save me some real wear and tear on my feet.

Behind the wheel sits Wolfman Rob. He’s wearing Bermuda shorts and thongs, a sombrero, and a tee shirt with this logo:

Wolfman Rob: Hop in, pal! Hey, is that cranberry sauce? Just what the doctor ordered! Open that baby up and let’s get this party started!

To be continued…