The scene: The DFO clubhouse, where the Moosemas party is in full swing. The music is loud, the Moosemas Brew is flowing freely, and the DFOers are partying hard.
DTZM (at the bar): Hey, this is great! I’m glad everyone is getting a chance to unwind.
WCS (also at the bar): Almost everyone. Where’s Old School Zero?
DTZM: Ah, he’s still finishing up a little project for Zymm…
Cut to: Outside the clubhouse, in Doktor Zymm’s yuuuge RV. Old School Zero, hammer and chisel in hand, is being held back by Abraham Lincoln.
OSZ (raving): Let me go, Abe! This is personal now!
Abraham Lincoln: Settle down, son. We can figure out how to take apart that there time-doohickey after the party.
Cut to: The party again.
WCS: Huh. Well where are Balls and CB? I don’t see them around here, either.
DTZM: Aaah… Zymm had them go down to Mexico on a little club business…
Cut to: Somewhere in Mexico. Ballsofsteelandfury is driving the Moosemobile down a dirt road at night. Covalent Blonde is riding shotgun, and Low Commander, Marc Trestmans Windowless Van and Otto’s Brain are in the back seat.
Ballsofsteelandfury: It is dark out here! Do you guys see any signs of life?
Covalent Blonde: Yeah…I see some lights up ahead.
Low Commander: I see them too! Finally! Civilization! Or at least what passes for it in this century.
Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: Uncool, dude. Like, we don’t make fun of your stupid future seals and killer squirrels, man.
Otto’s Brain: Are we there yet?
Ballsofsteelandfury: Shut up, Otto. Yeah, I see them, too…looks like it’s maybe a bar…?
Covalent Blonde (reading the sign as they get closer): Open dusk till dawn…cool! Sounds like our kind of place!
Cut to: The DFO Moosemas party again.
WCS: Y’know…do you ever get the feeling that Zymm is really running the club, and she’s only letting us pretend to be in charge because it keeps us out of her hair?
DTZM: What? No! That’s just… Hmm. Nah. I mean…
WCS: Where is Zymm, anyway?
DTZM: No idea. I peeked into the lab earlier and she and Moose were gone. Either she got him running again, or she carted his body off to the dump.
WCS: So, has anyone told Moose that his future ex-wife is here? It seems like something he should maybe know.
DTZM (shrugging): Not me. I like to stay out of people’s personal lives. I figure it’ll come up eventually. In the meantime, I have Brocky keeping an eye on them.
Cut to: Brocky, tied securely to a chair.
Brocky: Welp, I think I may have screwed up here.
Cut to: Doktor Zymm’s laboratory. All is silent. Then one of the doors in Doktor Zymm’s workbench opens slowly.
PK (crawling out of the workbench): Gee whiz, that reminds me of when my mom used to lock me in a cupboard…
Future Clone Debbie Harry (pushing PK out of the way as she comes out behind him): Oaf! I really need to find a better class of lackey.
PK: Aw, you don’t really mean that. What are we looking for in here anyway?
Future Clone Debbie Harry: My T.I.T. That idiotic gorilla broke it when I was here last, but I know Zymm. She has it stashed in here somewhere.
PK: Your ti…
Future Clone Debbie Harry (interrupting): No, you idiot. My Totally Instant Transmogrifier. If Zymm hasn’t dismantled it, I may be able to repair it and…
PK (holding up a Bunsen burner): Is this it?
Future Clone Debbie Harry (glaring): No, you cretin. It looks like…
PK (holding up a triple beam balance): Is this it?
Future Clone Debbie Harry (still glaring): No. As I was saying, it looks like a…
PK (holding up the Totally Instant Transmogrifier): Is this it?
Future Clone Debbie Harry: No. Wait…Yes, that is it. Very good, lackey. With this in hand, I shall finally have my rightful vengeance. Bwahahahaha!
PK: Heh. Heh heh. Hee hee.
Future Clone Debbie Harry (exasperated): And just what are you doing?
PK: I thought we were sharing a moment.
Future Clone Debbie Harry: We were not. I was exalting in my forthcoming destruction of the DFO. You were cackling like a tuberculous hen.
PK: Aww…
Future Clone Debbie Harry: Look, since you found my T.I.T., just this once I will let you join me in triumphant laughter. Ready now? Bwahahahaha!
PK tries a deep laugh, but it turns into a snort. And then a cough. And then a coughing fit.
Future Clone Debbie Harry (slapping PK on the back): Don’t die on me. You’re one of the few useful resources I have in this misbegotten century.
PK (red-faced from coughing): Aww…that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me!
To be continued…
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