Latest posts by Beastmode Ate My Baby (see all)
- Hard Ride To Nowhere: The End, No Really I Mean It This Time, Seriously, Guys, This Is It – May 18, 2018
- Prisoners On The Pleasure Planet: Chapter Fourteen – May 11, 2018
- Hard Ride To Nowhere 2018 Draft Day Special – April 26, 2018
The scene: Doktor Zymm’s laboratory, where she is finally completing her work on Future Moose. Zymm is wearing her super-sciencey microscopic glasses and inserting a thin screwdriver into his ear while he sits up, unmoving. Man in Plaid #2’s head sits on her workbench.
Man in Plaid #2’s Head: OK, be careful now…this is going to be the tricky part.
Doktor Zymm: Ja, ja, I know…
Man in Plaid #2’s Head: The fusion cell must be inserted directly into the sub-cranial access port…
Doktor Zymm: I know…
Man in Plaid #2’s Head: And then a quarter-twist to the left…
Doktor Zymm (sighing and pausing in her work): Do you vant to do zis?
Man in Plaid #2’s Head: I do not have any hands.
Doktor Zymm (rolling her eyes): It vas a rhetorical question.
Man in Plaid #2’s Head: I see.
Doktor Zymm: I mean…after I am finished mit der Mooze, I can begin looking at your…situation.
Man in Plaid #2’s Head: There is no hurry.
Doktor Zymm (resuming her work on Future Moose): Vell, you must be getting bored, zitting on my vorkbench.
Man in Plaid #2’s Head: Not at all. In fact…
There’s an audible click as Doktor Zymm rotates the screwdriver. Doktor Zymm extracts the screwdriver and takes off the glasses.
Doktor Zymm: It should not be long now…
Suddenly Future Moose’s eyes snap open.
Future Moose: WAAAAAA-OOOWWWWWW!!!
Man in Plaid #2’s Head: I think it worked.
Future Moose: WHOA! I FEEL GREAT!
Doktor Zymm: Mooze, can you turn down ze volume a bit?
Future Moose: WHAT? OH SORRY! Sorry…is this better?
Doktor Zymm: Much. Zo, how are you feeling?
Future Moose: GREAT! Sorry…I mean…great!
Doktor Zymm: Gut. Ze new energy zell should power you for…vell…
Man in Plaid “2’s Head: Approximately one kiloyear.
Future Moose: That sounds like a lo… Hey! You’re one of those Man in Plaid guys!
Man in Plaid #2’s Head: Well, yes…
Future Moose: You guys are nothing but trouble! I remember one time…
Flash-forward to: The game room in Moose’s future palace. Moose is there at the card table, playing strip poker with Jayne Mansfield, Mamie Van Doren and Tina Louise. From the looks of things, the cards haven’t gone Moose’s way.
Mamie Van Doren: Sweet-cheeks, I’m gonna see your bet and raise you those cute boxers you’re wearing.
Tina Louise: Ha!
Moose: Bring it on, Mamie. This is where my luck starts to turn around.
Jayne Mansfield: I’ll believe it when I see it, darling. Your poker-face is worse than Bob Hope’s. I was on his show, you know.
Tina Louise (exasperated): We know, we know! You’ve mentioned that three times now.
Mamie Van Doren: Jeez! It’s not like you met Elvis…
Moose: That’s it. I call. Let’s see your hands, ladies…
Jayne Mansfield (putting down her cards): Read ’em and weep. Three eights.
Tina Louise (tossing down her cards): Junk hand here.
Mamie Van Doren (laying down her cards): I’ve got a pair…
Tina Louise: We know, we know!
Mamie Van Doren (glaring): …of Kings, and a trio of nines. Full house. Let’s see you beat that, Moose.
Moose (grinning as he starts to show his hand): Well…
Suddenly the Men in Plaid burst into the room.
Man in Plaid #1: This is an unauthorized chrono-dislocation!
Man in Plaid #2: Prepare to be returned to your rightful time.
Mamie Van Doren (flipping the table): Cheese it, girls! It’s the fuzz!
Mamie Van Doren, Tina Louise and Jayne Mansfield run out of the room, with Man in Plaid #1 in hot pursuit.
Moose (glaring at Man in Plaid #2 and showing him his cards): I had a straight flush. A straight frekkin’ flush.
Man in Plaid #2: Apologies.
There is an uncomfortable silence. Man in Plaid #2 glances down at Moose’s underwear.
Man in Plaid #2: Moose boxers?
Moose: They were a present, okay?
Cut to: The present again. Future Moose is glaring at Man in Plaid #2’s head.
Future Moose: A straight frekkin’ flush!
Man in Plaid #2’s Head (defensively): I did apologize.
Doktor Zymm: Mooze, zat vas a long time ago…vell, a long time from now, but you know vat I mean. You should let bygones be bygones.
Future Moose: Well…I guess so…
Doktor Zymm: Und besides, it ist almost Moosemas. Zat ist a time for good cheer, is it not?
Future Moose: It’s Moosemas already? Holy frek, how long have I been out?
Doktor Zymm: Umm…awhile. Ve should really get you caught up…
Future Moose’s stomach grumbles. Loudly.
Future Moose: Maybe you could catch me up over a 36-inch waffle?
Doktor Zymm (to Man in Plaid #2’s Head): Vould you care to join us?
Man in Plaid #2’s Head: That would be delightful. Are waffles anything like SPONCH!?
Doktor Zymm (picking up Man in Plaid #2’s head): Better.
Future Moose (heading out the door): Hey, let’s take my car!
Doktor Zymm: Vell, ve should talk about zat, too…
Cut to: Somewhere in Mexico. The Moosemobile is swerving down an empty road. Covalent Blonde is at the wheel, Ballsofsteelandfury is holding on for dear life in the passenger seat, and Low Commander and Marc Trestmans Windowless Van are sliding around in the back seat.
Covalent Blonde: There! Did you hear it that time? It was like a thunk, or a…
Ballsofsteelandfury: If I say yes, will you stop trying to kill us?
Low Commander: I heard it that time. I think it came from the trunk.
Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: Whoa! Like, maybe there’s a body back there!
Ballsofsteelandfury looks at Covalent Blonde suspiciously.
Covalent Blonde: What? Oh, like I’d pack a body in the trunk and drive it across international lines.
Covalent Blonde: I’m not stupid. I would have dumped it before we hit Mexico.
Ballsofsteelandfury: Just pull over so we can take a look.
Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: What if it’s, like, a serial killer that’s just been, like, waiting for us to open the trunk, man?
Ballsofsteelandfury: I don’t think that’s how serial killers operate, Marc.
Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: Freddy Krueger does, man! Like, he just pops out of anywhere and then he’s all, “I’m your boyfriend now, Nancy!” And then it’s all, like, claw-hands and blood and gore, man!
Covalent Blonde (pulling the Moosemobile over): Freddy only appears while you’re asleep, Marc, and we’re all awake.
Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: Are you sure, man?
Ballsofsteelandfury (getting out of the car as it stops): Positive.
Marc Trestmans Windowless Van looks over at Low Commander, and then pinches him on the arm.
Low Commander: Ow!
Marc Trestmans Windowless Van (relieved): Just checking, man.
Low Commander (getting out of the car): This century is so strange.
The DFOers gather at the back of the car. Low Commander looks at Marc Trestmans Windowless Van. Marc Trestmans Windowless Van looks at Ballsofsteelandfury. Ballsofsteelandfury looks at Covalent Blonde.
Covalent Blonde: Oh, for… Fine! I’ll open the trunk, you big bunch of sissies.
Ballsofsteelandfury: We’ve got your back.
Covalent Blonde: Uh-huh.
Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: In case Freddy jumps out, man!
Covalent Blonde: Right.
Low Commander (picking up a large stick): Or in case it’s a radioactive mutated squirrel that snuck into the trunk looking for a place to sleep, but is now awake and angry. And likely hungry as well…for human flesh.
Low Commander: I lost some good men to those furry bastards. Sciuri ad mortem!
Ballsofsteelandfury: I don’t…
Low Commander: That means “Death to squirrels!” It was our regiment’s motto.
Covalent Blonde (unlatching the trunk): I’m guessing it’s not a mutant squirrel, but if it is, feel free to smack it. If it’s Freddy Krueger, let ‘im have Marc and maybe he’ll leave the rest of us alone.
Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: Uncool, man!
Covalent Blonde lifts the trunk lid as Low Commander hefts his stick and Marc Trestmans Windowless Van steps behind Ballsofsteelandfury.
Covalent Blonde (staring into the trunk): What the…?
Marc Trestmans Windowless Van (peering over Ballsofsteelandfury’s shoulder): Whoa! Hey, man!
Ottos’ Brain (rolling around in the trunk): Guys, I am hung over. Wanna go get some waffles?
To be continued…