The scene: The future! A time centuries from now, when mankind has survived countless wars, disasters and Zymm-related incidents to…well, maybe not thrive, exactly. I mean, it’s more like mankind is still kicking around on a planet that’s become pretty darn weird. Until recently Emperor Moose ruled with an iron hand, although he buggered off to the past to hang out with his DFO buddies, which left Empress Debbie Harry (better known to long-time HRTN readers as Future Clone Debbie Harry) to overthrow him and take over.

Of course, then she went and chased Moose into the past, also got entwined with the DFO, and is currently riding Litre Cola’s stolen motorcycle through 2017 with her sidekick PK.

So where does that leave the current state of government? Who knows! Look, I’m just the narrator, okay? Contrary to popular belief, I don’t really have all the answers. All I really know is that, by accident, Low Commander, Beerguyrob, Brocky, Lord Revisisle and Rikki-Tikki-Deadly ended up in this very future courtesy of Doktor Zymm’s RV, which happens to have a time machine in it. Old School Zero was supposed to remove it, but then a cute chick asked him to march against Trump or something and he blew it off. And in the future the DFOers have run across a pair of cops that accidentally ended up here, working in Ape City, and now all of them are at Iguana Mart, which is pretty much a mall the size of a small city.

It’s really pretty simple.

So, okay, at the moment Rikki-Tikki-Deadly is in section 4, aisle 20, which is where the drugs are. Several open packages litter the floor and he’s holding a bong the size of a watermelon.

Rikki-Tikki-Deadly (taking a hit off the bong): Ahhhh! I love the future!

Rikki-Tikki-Deadly’s eyes dilate and the irises turn purple. He exhales and the smoke curls up around his head and turns into a line of dancing girls. He giggles and tries to grab one, but she dissolves with a wink. As he takes another hit a mariachi band wanders up. Well, “band” is maybe pushing it. There are only two guys. One is a mutant with four arms, though, so he can really shred his double-neck guitar. The other is a crabman wearing a large sombrero. His guitar skills are limited, so he’s playing the maracas. They’re actually a fairly popular duo known as Cristo & Cangrejo, Cristo being the four-armed guy and Cangrejo the crabman.

Cristo (strumming loudly): Señor! May we entertain you with a song?

Rikki-Tikki-Deadly (blurrily looking at Cangrejo): Whoa… Dude, where did you get that yuuuge lobster?

Cangrejo (nervously): Tk mkt jkjik… [I don’t like the way he’s looking at me…]

Cristo: No, no, señor…that is Cangrejo! He is my partner. We have been together ever since we…

Cristo keeps talking, but Rikki-Tikki-Deadly just kind of phases out. He fixates on Cangrejo, and imagines the crabman dropping into a massive vat of butter. Let’s face it, Rikki is stoned out of his gourd on future weed, and he’s been eating nothing but roasted squirrel bits for days.

Cangrejo (really nervous now): Yk…mkl jnkbt? [Is he…drooling?]

Cut to: Brocky, who’s been wandering through the Iguana Mart looking for Rikki-Tikki-Deadly. He passes by all sorts of strange humanoids, quadripeds, mutants, aliens, freaks, sportos, motorheads, geeks, sluts, bloods, wasteoids, dweebies and dickheads. But Brocky don’t stare, cuz he’s a righteous dude.

Brocky (approaching a clerk): Excuse me, but…

The blue-haired, three-eyed clerk looks up from stacking purple bottles of something called Fozz Fizz.

Clerk: Can I help you?

Brocky: I was just looking for my friend. He’s in here looking for…y’know…

Clerk: Section 4, aisle 20, sir.

Brocky (running off): Thanks!

Brocky follows the signs, most of which are blinking neon. He finally spots aisle 20 and starts toward it when he hears a scream. Brocky stops in his tracks, then cautiously peeks around the corner. He spots Rikki-Tikki-Deadly running towards him, a yuuuge bong in one hand and a crabman arm in the other. The pincer is still spasmodically pinching the air.

Brocky: Rikki? What the hell…?

Rikki-Tikki-Deadly (tossing the bong to Brocky): Heymanyoushouldprobablyrun!

Rikki-Tikki-Deadly sprints around the corner at the end of the aisle. Brocky looks back to see an enraged four-armed mariachi and an enraged one-armed crabman racing toward him.

Brocky (hitting the bong as he runs away): Ah, man, I am not getting my ass kicked by a mariachi band again!

Cut to: The bar in the front section of the Iguana Mart, where Beerguyrob, Lord Revisisle and Hardboiled Detective are in hard-fought battle with the massive cybernetic mutant known as Crudjaw.

OK, “battle” is a bit of an overstatement. Here’s the real sitch: Lord Revisisle’s entire body is wrapped around Crudjaw’s cybernetic arm. Crudjaw is absently waving it around, trying to get him to let go, but at least he’s not bashing anyone’s skull in with it. Meanwhile, Crudjaw has an iron grip with his other hand around Hardboiled Detective’s neck, and he’s turning purple. Beerguyrob is beating on Crudjaw with a chair leg to no effect.

Beerguyrob (breaking the chair leg over Crudjaw’s head): Crap! We could really use CB right about now…or a bazooka…or…

Beerguyrob spots the gelatinous green glob sliding by. He grabs the glob and hurls it right into Crudjaw’s face.

Crudjaw (as the glob envelopes his head): Whaurgh…!

Crudjaw drops Hardboiled Detective and tries to scream as the green glob quickly and efficiently digests his head, leaving behind nothing but a metal-laced skull. It’s kinda gross, but also kinda cool in a 1980’s B-movie kind of way. Crudjaw’s now-lifeless form tips over and falls onto the floor with a heavy thud.

Lord Revisisle (crawling out from under Crudjaw): A little help here?

Hardboiled Detective (helping out Lord Revisisle): That’s probably not how I would’ve handled it, but…

Beerguyrob: What? It got the job done, right?

The green glob rolls off of Crudjaw with a small burp and slides over to Beerguyrob.

Lord Revisisle: I think you made a friend.

Beerguyrob: Aw, man, I am not taking in another stray! The last time I did, Brocky stayed on my couch for six months.

Hardboiled Detective: Um, we may have another problem…

The DFOers look over to see the blue-skinned sexually ambiguous bartender reaching under the bar.

Beerguyrob: Uh-oh…he doesn’t look happy…

The bartender pulls out a Multi-Use Explosive Rocket Tracking-Enhanced system, which is basically a rocket launcher the size of a Yugo and equipped with several dozen rockets.

Beerguyrob: Look, maybe we could talk this over…over a few more beers…?

Bartender (angrily): You guys are really getting on my nerves…

To be continued…