The scene: The main Diggler’s office, circa 1975. The company’s vice-president is walking to the main laboratory. He’s wearing a brown suit with an orange tie, because it’s 1975. He also has big sideburns and a bushy mustache. Again, 1975.

Oh, and of course he’s smoking. It’s 1975, people. He also didn’t wear a seat belt while driving to work this morning in his big-ass Ford Thunderbird (8 MPG in the city!), which, yeah, he was smoking in. But hey, at least he wasn’t texting.

Diggler’s VP (bursting into the laboratory): All right, I’m here! What’s so damn important?

Inside the Diggler’s lab the scientists all look up from their work. All of them are wearing white lab coats, of course. All of them are also smoking. All of the male scientists, all nine of them, have long sideburns, even the guys who are going bald. The lone female scientist has amazingly long hair and sexy scientist glasses.

Damn it, I’m starting to miss the ‘70s…

Professor Mann, the lead scientist, turns to the VP with a wide grin.

Professor Mann (stubbing out his cigarette): It’s good news, sir! Actually, it’s great news!

Diggler’s VP (stubbing out his cigarette on a random doughnut): It better be! You know, this division is under a lot of pressure. If we don’t start getting better results…

Professor Mann (lighting up another cigarette): No need to worry, sir! This breakthrough is the big one!

Diggler’s VP (lighting up another cigarette): The big one? You mean…

Professor Mann (puffing away happily): That’s right! I’ve finally localized the key element in my research…

Female Scientist: Yeah, actually I was the one who did that.

Professor Mann (ignoring her): And, combined with my previous chemical formula…

Female Scientist: Which was based on my research…

Professor Mann (still ignoring her): I’ve finally stabilized the molecule!

Diggler’s VP (smoking): Good lord! If that means what I think it means…

Professor Mann: It does, sir! I’ve perfected the Confectionary Reactive Enzyme Antacid Molecule!

Diggler’s VP (eyes wide): My…god…

Professor Mann (megalomaniacally): God had nothing to do with this, sir! This is the work of SCIENCE!

The scientists cheer with abandon, clapping hands and congratulating one another. A gangly scientist tries to kiss the female scientist, but she pushes him away.

Female Scientist: Give me a break, pal. I work with you guys all day. I know where those lips have been.

Diggler’s VP: Excellent news, Dr. Mann! This is the breakthrough we’ve been waiting for. Why, I’m going to personally see to it that each and every Diggler’s Donut is covered in Mann C.R.E.A.M.!

Professor Mann (blinking back tears): I don’t know what to say, sir.

Female Scientist (sighing): Mom was right. I should’ve stuck to cheerleading.

Cut to: The DFO clubhouse, present day. Don T is sitting under a sunlamp with his shades on while Old School Zero, in his cool vintage Diggler’s Donuts tee, is searching around the floor on his hands and knees.

Don T (looking over at OSZ): Dude, what are you looking for?

OSZ (glancing up): I dropped a Diggler’s Donut a few days ago, and I know it’s around here somewhere. I think it might’ve rolled under the couch.

Don T (disgusted): Dude! That’s gross! That thing is going to be full of germs.

OSZ: Nah, Diggler’s Donuts never even get dirty. It’s actually…kinda weird, when you think about it. One time I dropped one down the stairs, it rolled right over the cat and bounced into the fireplace. I picked it up and there wasn’t a speck of dirt on it.

Don T: That’s messed up, OSZ.

OSZ: I mean, it was still très bon! Just like it was fresh out of the box!

Don T (visibly flinching): Yuck. Your body’s a temple, OSZ, and you’re treating it like the Heruli pillaging Athens.

OSZ: Ah, you worry too much. You also watch the History Channel too much. Welp, it’s not under the couch. Maybe it rolled under the pool table?

As Old School Zero goes to look under the pool table, Ballsofsteelandfury comes wandering down the stairs.

Don T: Hey, Balls! What’s up, man? How come you’re not in your VR game?

Ballsofsteelandfury (dejectedly): Aw, I got to the end. I figured I’d finally score with the princess, but then she ran off with the frog guy!

Don T: That’s too bad, man.

Ballsofsteelandfury: I don’t even know how many hours I put into that thing! I mean, I thought I’d at least get to see her boobs, but nooo….

OSZ (searching around the pool table for his doughnut): That’s pretty desperate, Balls.

Ballsofsteelandfury (ignoring OSZ): Hey, Don, how come you’re sunbathing inside?

Don T: Ah, if I go out I’ll have to wear a mask, and that leaves weird tan lines.

Ballsofsteelandfury: Well, thanks for wearing swimming trunks at least.

Don T (grinning): Not for long, bro…

Ballsofsteelandfury: Gah! Dude, c’mon! No nudity in the clubhouse, remember? Those are your rules!

Don T (shrugging): We’re living in unusual times, Balls. Adjustments have to be made.

Ballsofsteelandfury: There’s no way I’m gonna adjust to seeing your junk, man. No offense, but I don’t wanna see your nuts.

OSZ (looking up from the floor): Did you say doughnuts?

Don T: C’mon, OSZ, give it up. Let me mask up and I’ll go over to Iguana Mart and buy you a sixer of Diggler’s.

Ballsofsteelandfury (shooting finger guns): Now we’re talkin’!

OSZ (looking back under the pool table): And admit defeat? Never!

OSZ reaches under the pool table again, and finds…something…

Ballsofsteelandfury: C’mon, OSZ, let’s go. Don T’s buying us a round of Diggler’s.

OSZ pulls his hand out from under the pool table, and he’s holding Future Clone Debbie Harry’s Tactically Advanced Time Accelerator System. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m thinking that’s not a good thing.

Don T: Hold on a sec, I’m not buying doughnuts for everyone…

Ballsofsteelandfury: That’s not what I heard. Lemme just grab my mask…

Unnoticed by the others, Old School Zero fiddles around with Future Clone Debbie Harry’s T.A.T.A.S.

Don T (sighing): Man, I’m getting tired of those things. I wouldn’t really mind them, but it’s hard to flash these perfect pearly whites at the ladies when I’m wearing one.

Ballsofsteelandfury (grumbling): Man, next time I need some dental work done, I’m going to Canada.

OSZ (rotating a dial on the T.A.T.A.S.): Huh. I wonder if this is one of Zymm’s thingies…

Ballsofsteelandfury: What’d you say, OSZ?

[DOOR FLIES OPEN]

Suddenly, Cookiethulhu bursts in through the front door.

Cookiethulhu: Wotcha chaps! Say, have you seen Abe around? He said he was going to…

OSZ pushes a button on the T.A.T.A.S. and suddenly the room fills with swirling prism of light which envelops the four DFOers, and in a sudden flash they’re gone. Seconds pass, then Abraham Lincoln opens the door from the kitchen and peeks through. His hands are covered in flour, and he’s wearing an authentic Diggler’s Donuts apron.

Abraham Lincoln (looking around the empty room): All right, fellas, get ready for some home-baked cookies! Hey, where did everyone go…?

To be continued…

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