The scene: The Godverse! Bruce the Shark-Headed God has kindly retrieved Man in Plaid #2’s head from his swimming pool, and is currently drying him off. JJ Fozz is sitting by the pool, dangling his feet in the water and sipping from a frosty mug while Horatio Cornblower checks on a still-unconscious Mars(the Roman god of war), who was smooshed by a falling mass of Fozz not long ago.

Horatio Cornblower: Man, he is really out of it. Fozz, you done smacked down a god.

JJ Fozz: Not the first, won’t be the last.

Bruce (setting Man in Plaid #2’s head on the table): Well, I have to thank you guys. Mars was really leaning on me.

Man in Plaid #2’s Head: Yes, I understand that the Roman pantheon had a difficult time adjusting to life-after-worship. So I take it that Jupiter became a…shall we say, turf accountant?

JJ Fozz (taking a yuuuge swig): We shan’t. “Shan’t.” Heh. That’s a funny word. But he’s a bookie, plain and simple.

Horatio Cornblower (casting a nervous look at JJ Fozz): Hey, Fozz, you might want to take it easy on that stuff…whatever it is.

Bruce: It’s mead, and please leave some for… Oh, crap!

Man in Plaid #2’s Head: What is wrong?

Bruce: I’m throwing a party tonight! I have a bunch of gods coming over and…

The sound of the Jaws theme music fills the air.

Bruce: That’s the doorbell! Someone must be early! I bet it’s Chronos. He’s always going on about how he invented time, but he darn well never pays attention to it.

JJ Fozz (taking another yuuuge swig): Whuz da probabl…probubul…problem?

Bruce: Mars and his family are real big-wigs around here. If someone sees him like…this…I’m gonna be in big trouble!

Horatio Cornblower looks at Mars, then gets a big (well, tiny, but, y’know…) grin.

Horatio Cornblower: Say, Bruce, do you have a pair of sunglasses…?

Cut to: The Island of Doktor Zymm! Specifically, the Dimensional Energy Retrieval Portal, which is glowing brightly beacuse Doktor Zymm has activated it. Covalent Blonde, Ballsofsteelandfury, Marc Trestmans Windowless Van and Moosemas Gorilla are there as well, with the unconscious Doctor Deadly and JJ Fizz.

Ballsofsteelandfury: So, are you sure your D.E.R.P. is programmed for their dimension?

Doktor Zymm (at the control panel): Ja. I merely reversed ze coordinates. Zey should be going back home, to zere own dimension.

Ballsofsteelandfury (shooting a finger gun at Moosemas Gorilla): OK, then…

Moosemas Gorilla picks up the unconscious Doctor Deadly and heaves him toward the glowing portal. It glows brighter as he disappears into it.

Moosemas Gorilla: Ook!

Covalent Blonde: Huh. That’s pretty neat. Here, let me toss this Fozz impersonator through.

Moosemas Gorilla (grabbing the unconscious JJ Fizz): Ook!

Covalent Blonde: OK, OK! Wow. Horatio really spoils you, you know that?

Moosemas Gorilla hefts JJ Fizz overhead and tosses him into the portal.

Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: Cool, man! Like, we should throw in…I dunno, man…maybe, like, Trump?

Ballsofsteelandfury: That’s a nice thought, Marc. I’d hate to inflict him on another dimension, though. That’s just kinda mean.

Vodkamanboris and Coquettish Blonde enter the room, a squad of ninjas led by Steve the Ninja behind them.

Ballsofsteelandfury (shooting finger guns): Hey, great job, Steve! Where’d you find them?

Steve the Ninja: It was actually pretty easy. We just followed the van. They kept driving around the island until they ran out of gas.

Coquettish Blonde: Well, if we’d known it was an island…

Vodkamanboris: We would have gotten away with it, if it weren’t for you darn ninjas.

Covalent Blonde pushes Vodkamanboris into the portal and he disappears.

Covalent Blonde: That is pretty fun!

Moosemas Gorilla (nodding): Ook!

Doktor Zymm (to Coquettish Blonde): Vell, zis ist a varning: Do not come back here. Forget about finding Zach Morris.

Coquettish Blonde: Uh-huh. Who?

Doktor Zymm (blinking): Darkest Timeline Zach Morris…? I azzumed zat vas who you came here for…

Coquettish Blonde (shrugging…well, coquettishly): Never heard of him, but he sounds cute.

Covalent Blonde: Ugh. Give it a rest, Trailer Trash Barbie.

Coquettish Blonde (pouting coquettishly): Whatever. But we came here looking for our king.

Covalent Blonde: You have a king?

Coquettish Blonde: Oh, yeah! It’s great! We don’t have all these pesky elections every few years, no campaigning or fundraising. Rikki told us about your world…what a mess!

Ballsofsteelandfury: It’s actually kind of hard to argue with that.

Doktor Zymm: Zo, who ist your king?

Coquettish Blonde: Well, his full title is His Imperial Majesty, Protector of the Realm, Defender of the Faith, Regent of the Hierarchy, Scribe of the Great Game, the Great and Powerful King Pe-

Marc Trestmans Windowless Van pushes Coquettish Blonde into the portal, and she disappears.

Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: Whoa! Like, that is fun, man!

Covalent Blonde: Good job, Marc. Her stupid voice was really getting on my nerves.

Ballsofsteelandfury: I liked her choice in clothes, though.

Covalent Blonde (punching him on the arm): You would. How about those other two guys the ninjas caught? Are we tossing them in?

Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: Nah, like, I interrogated them pretty thoroughly, man. I’m pretty sure they’re from here.

Ballsofsteelandfury (rubbing his arm): How can you tell?

Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: Like, they knew all the words to “Scotty Doesn’t Know,” man.

Moosemas Gorilla: Ook!

Covalent Blonde: That is pretty convincing.

Doktor Zymm: Zere ist vone zing bothering me…

Ballsofsteelandfury: What’s that, Dok?

Doktor Zymm: Vell, just who ist zis king zey vere looking for?

Ballsofsteelandfury (shruggging): Ah, who knows?

Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: Whoa! Do you guys think it’s me? Like, am I a king?

Ballsofsteelandfury: I don’t think so, Marc.

Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: If I am, man, then I’ll, like, make all of you guys knights or something, and we can go and look for dragons and stuff!

Moosemas Gorilla: Ook-ook!

Covalent Blonde: Yeah, I could go for a banana daiquiri right about now, too.

The DFOers and ninjas start to exit the room. Doktor Zymm looks quizzically at the D.E.R.P.

Doktor Zymm: Hmm. Just who could zis king be…?

Cut to: A wasteland in the desert. Future Clone Debbie Harry is driving through the sands on her (well, Litre Cola’s, but good luck getting it back) motorcycle. As she approaches the remnants of a gas station, she spots a trashed car and stops.

Future Clone Debbie Harry: Well, that certainly looks like that Unsurprised person’s car. My stupid lackey must have taken it when he left.

Future Clone Debbie Harry walks over to the car. It looks like it’s been turned inside-out. Really a mess. Good luck explaining this one to your insurance company, Unsurprised!

Future Clone Debbie Harry: Well, this is inconvenient. If my lackey exploded I am going to be so angry…

Future Clone Debbie Harry reaches into the remains of the car and pulls out a burned ¡SPONCH! box.

Future Clone Debbie Harry: He was here! Then he’s really…

Future Clone Debbie Harry wipes away a single tear as it falls down her cheek.

Future Clone Debbie Harry: Well isn’t that just typical! I have one lackey in this crappy century…one! And he goes and explodes! Now I’m left all by myself in this…

Future Clone Debbie Harry stops venting as someone approaches behind her. She turns and sees PK walking up, clutching a box of Digglers Donuts. He’s a mess. Seared, filthy, and half-covered in powdered sugar.

Future Clone Debbie Harry (rushing over to hug PK): Lackey! You had me…well, not worried. Mildly concerned, maybe.  About me, of course. I hate it when no one’s around to cater to me.

PK (returning the hug with one hand, eating a donut with the other): Gee! You came to look for me! No one’s ever done that before.

Future Clone Debbie Harry (smacking PK): Never run away again!

PK: Aww…I’m sorry. I’ve been hiding out in that gas station. I went in there for a non-fat latte with caramel drizzle and chocolate sprinkles, but all they had was normal coffee! So then I was demanding to speak to the manager when everything blew up!

Future Clone Debbie Harry: Well, don’t worry. I’ll forgive you. Eventually.

PK: OK. For what?

Future Clone Debbie Harry: Running off and leaving me in the lurch. I was going to torture that pesky lawyer, but then these Canadians showed up!

PK: Gee whiz! I’m sorry…

Future Clone Debbie Harry: Well, enough of that for now. I’m tired of this place already. It’s dreary and dusty, and it smells like spoiled cabbage.

PK: That might be me. I haven’t had a shower for awhile. In fact, I’ve had to use my urine to…

Future Clone Debbie Harry: Yes, yes, make everything about you!

PK: I’m sorry. But we should go. This place gets bad at night. That’s when the cannibals come out.

Future Clone Debbie Harry: You can tell me all about it later. After you’ve bathed and scrubbed yourself off with steel wool. And catered to me for a few days.

The two get on Litre Cola’s Future Clone Debbie Harry’s motorcycle and ride away. All is silent for several minutes. The sun begins to set. Then the sound of an engine cuts through the dusk and headlights appear on the horizon. They get closer and closer, and the car is revealed to be the Moosemobile. It stops at the gas station.

Future Moose (behind the wheel): OK, I found us a service station. Are you happy now?

Señor Weaselo (getting out of the car): Gracias, Moose. I knew I shouldn’t have had that third cup of coffee this morning.

Otto’s Brain (bouncing out of the car): Huh. What a dump. This place looks deader than OSZ’s love life…

To be continued…