The scene: The Iguana Mart of the future, where Covalent Blonde is currently looking with regret at the ‘Blonde Fury’ truck as an Iguana Mart sales associate, recently recovering from a royal knee to the groinular area, gives her the bad news about Future Clone Debbie Harry.
Sales Associate: So you see, it seems as if the, ah…former Empress…had all of her accounts frozen several years ago, so unfortunately she is unable to access any funds whatsoever.
Covalent Blonde: Bummer! I really liked that truck, too.
Sales Associate (nodding): I’m upset about it, too. Maybe I can get you a commemorative keychain…?
Covalent Blonde: Hey, I just remembered…I had a few bucks of credit here. Maybe I can at least get the protein shakes…?
Flashback to: The Iguana Mart of the early 21st century! An enraged Covalent Blonde comes storming into the place, stepping up to the counter and cutting off Cookiethulhu and Abraham Lincoln, who were standing in line, each holding two cases of beer.
Cookiethulhu: I say! We were next in line…
Abraham Lincoln: Indeed! We were just about to purchase these four-score and sixteen beers and join in on your birthday festivities!
Covalent Blonde (angry): Shut it, rookies!
Covalent Blonde slams a brand-new Seattle Seahawks jersey down onto the counter.
Iguana Clerk: Thbpt?
Covalent Blonde: Somebody bought me this for my birthday! They probably thought it was funny! I don’t think it’s funny! How about you? Anyone here want to have a laugh?!!
Cut to: The future again.
Covalent Blonde: Huh. Thinking about it, he took the jersey back, but I’m not sure he ever actually sold them…
Sales Associate (pulling out his Personal Utility Device): Well, let’s just take a look. You spell ‘Blonde’ with an “e,” right?
Covalent Blonde: Yeah, my parents were all fancy like that.
Sales Associate (typing into his P.U.D.): If you have any credit on hand, it’ll be… Oh. Oh my… Maybe we should step into my office…
Cut to: Inside the Iguana Mart, where WCS is hiding behind Mr. Ayo and Brick Meathook in an attempt to avoid Future Clone Lynda Carter.
Brick Meathook: Is that really Wonder Woman?
WCS: Kind of. Not exactly. It’s complicated.
Mr. Ayo: Why is she covered in frosting?
Brick Meathook: No idea, but I kind of like it.
WCS ducks down as Future Clone Lynda Carter glances in their direction. Brick Meathook attempts to look suave and flips his hair back. Since he’s still pretty wet, the effect is less James Bond and more Jerry Lewis. Future Clone Lynda Carter shakes her head and pays for the damaged Diggler’s boxes.
WCS (crouching): Did she see me?
Brick Meathook: No, but she got an eyeful of me.
WCS: Is that a good thing?
Brick Meathook (looking down at the crouching WCS): Hey, I do all right with the ladies.
Mr. Ayo: Dudes…
WCS: I’m just saying, she’s probably out of your league.
Brick Meathook: Buddy, when I turn on the charm, women melt like butter.
Mr. Ayo: Gross. But look, dudes, she’s…
WCS: If you say so.
Brick Meathook (irritated): I do say so! As a matter of fact, she’d be lucky to date me!
Future Clone Lynda Carter (strolling up, a bag full of Diggler’s Donut boxes slung over her shoulder): Hey, boys.
WCS (looking up): Aw, crap…
Mr. Ayo: I was trying to tell you guys she was on her way over.
Brick Meathook: Try harder next time.
Future Clone Lynda Carter (looking at WCS): So, are you going to help me out, or do I have to finish this sentence with a threat of bodily harm?
Brick Meathook (menacingly): Now, look here…
Brick’s ill-advised display of bravado is interrupted as Future Clone Lynda Carter swings the bag of Diggler’s boxes, catching him under the chin and sending him crashing to the floor in a wet heap.
Mr. Ayo: Whoa! I wish you’d been on my intramural Apeball league!
WCS (reluctantly standing up): Well, I guess…
Suddenly the shrill, angry voice of entitlement rings throughout the store as an angry Future Clone Debbie Harry storms in through the front doors.
Future Clone Debbie Harry (angry): I want to speak to…THE MANAGER!
There’s a moment of shocked silence and then…
And then everyone pretty much goes back to what they were doing. As it turns out, a few centuries earlier the power of the Karens was found to be ineffectual against sheer indifference, and so Future Clone Debbie Harry’s outburst is mostly ignored by the various mutants, humans and aliens roaming the store.
Mostly. WCS notices, as does Future Clone Lynda Carter.
Future Clone Lynda Carter (in a dangerous tone): So there you are. I’ve been waiting five years for this…
Future Clone Debbie Harry (noticing her rival): Oh, shit.
The two stare each other down. Future Clone Lynda Carter’s eyes narrow dangerously, and she begins swinging her Diggler-filled shopping bag like a Medieval flail. Future Clone Debbie Harry stands strong for a full second, then makes a break for it, running out the door as fast as she can. WCS and Mr. Ayo take advantage of the distraction and, each grabbing hold of one of Brick Meathook’s legs, scamper off further into the store, leaving a large wet trail behind.
Future Clone Lynda Carter barely spares the trio a glance, as she bolts toward the doors in pursuit of Future Clone Debbie Harry. She makes it outside, just in time to run full-tilt into Beerguyrob, who was walking into Iguana Mart with Lemonjello and Rikki-Tikki-Deadly.
Beerguyrob: Whoa! What the heck?
Future Clone Lynda Carter (pushing him aside): Out of the way! I’ve got an ass-kicking to get to!
Future Clone Lynda Carter storms past them into the parking lot.
Rikki-Tikki-Deadly: Wow, rude much? It’s like CB has a taller brunette-r future-sister.
Beerguyrob: She was swinging that shopping bag like she meant serious business. D’oh! Crap, I forgot the shopping bags!
Rikki-Tikki-Deadly: Big deal. We can just use plastic this time.
Beerguyrob: Not a chance. We’re trying to save the planet, remember?
Rikki-Tikki-Deadly (glancing outside at the Wasteland beyond Iguana Mart): I mean…I think we’re too late.
Beerguyrob (holding up the RV keys): Look, just go and get them, all right? They’re in the RV. Grab ‘em and meet me here by the register.
Rikki-Tikki-Deadly (sulkily taking the keys): OK, OK… Jeez…
As Rikki leaves, Lemonjello makes a borbling sound.
Beerguyrob (chuckling): You’re damn right I left the bags on purpose. By the time he finds them and gets back, we should have our shopping done. I figured that was the only way to keep him out of trouble.
Cut to: Rikki getting into Doktor Zymm’s RV. He opens up the driver’s side door and climbs in, just in time to get pushed into the passenger seat by Future Clone Debbie Harry, who had been hiding nearby.
Rikki-Tikki-Deadly: Hey! What the hell?
Future Clone Debbie Harry (snatching the keys out of his hand): I knew I recognized this thing!
Rikki-Tikki-Deadly (as the RV’s engine rumbles to life): Wait a sec… Am I being kidnapped by a hot blonde in the middle of a post-apocalyptic future?
Future Clone Debbie Harry (pulling the RV out of the parking spot): Pretty much.
Rikki-Tikki-Deadly (grinning like an idiot): Best. Day. EVER!
To be continued…
3-D Chimp in Room TV……ooook.
In the early days they had only one button to access porn.
Irish McCalla rocked.
That is all.
x10 indeed.
Danny Bonaduce probably had an interesting puberty.
Hanging out with hot blondes, smoking weed and crank-calling Mr. Kincaid.
Or what I call “Saturday.”
Well it worked out well for him. Nobody grew up more healthy and well-adjusted than ol’ Danny B.
/Rolls eyes so hard they fall out of my head and drive to the package store so that I don’t have to.
Yes, he is a complete fuckhead. My statement still stands, and with that he could have turned out so much better.
Oh yeah!!
This is perfect. It’s also probably the last thing HRTN Rikki will see before he dies.
*borbles contentedly*
Are there rules for Apeball? I’m asking for a friend. The friend is me. I am friends with myself and in the end isn’t that what we should all strive for?
Just wear the right thing.
There are, but I need to get them translated from Apelish. I do know that there’s going to be pretty intense competition for the Banana Cup this year.
Shopping is just like working with Mike Glennon – it’s all about game management.
And being able to reach the highest shelves just by craning one’s neck.
I got beat up by a girl with donuts
Brag some more, why dontcha?
That’s usually $250.
Is telling a Karen to go fuck herself the same thing as indifference? Asking for a friend…
Thank you… errr whomever you are asking for.
What do you do when they herd up?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=121&v=3zxPx3n3_OA&feature=emb_logo
Woot! Still not dead!
Most of the time that’s a good thing.
I remember when I was in England and a nice bloke asked me if I liked puffing fags.
I said ‘Of course I do, I try to do it 2-3 times a week!’ He was very baffled when I asked him to put his cigarette out though because I want nothing to do with those cancer sticks!
I sometimes get shit faced and post in what I think is an open thread. Sorry.
Never be sorry, baby.
I sometimes get shit faced and post airplane engine pics on Grindr.
Any appearance by BCHS is a special occasion.
when you’re shit-faced enough, they’re all open threads.