[London, England. December 31, 1899. The streets are filled with reveillers as a day-long countdown to a new century is underway. But while the city, the nation and the entire world prepare for the 20th century, 2 men residing in a quaint home near the outskirts of the city are quietly neutral to any signs of celebration or commemoration. Because to them, there is no celebration necessary. They've seen the 20th century, and they are decidedly unimpressed with it. The 2 sit at a table in the main living room area, smoking cigars and playing cards. The larger gentleman is frustrated and throws his cards down as his companion, a more dimunitive figure, takes his winnings with a bit of a snicker under his breath.]
HG Wells: Play again?
Landozzel: Gods no, I've had enough. I don't think skill at poker made it through the amalgamation process into my new genes.
HG Wells: That excuse only works so long, Landozzel. It's been, what, well over 10 years now since Lando Calrissian and Admiral Ozzel were forcibly merged by a scientific catastrophe to create.....you.
Landozzel: Well, as long as you don't have a television, I have every right to complain about the endless games of cards we play.
HG Wells: And how many times must I tell you that the television you want has not been invented and commercialized yet, and in this day and age it wouldn't be seemly or prudent to upgrade my entire abode to accomodate futuristic technology.
Landozzel: Then why do we hide out in Victorian London? If we're hiding from those bastards Piett and Villechaize, it makes little sense to do so in your home, of all places.
HG Wells: They've yet to actually show up, have they?
Landozzel: It's an inevitability. I tell you, we need to reestablish our old confederations and start anew somehow. Fire up the time machine and find an escape from this deathtrap of boredom.
HG Wells: With who? The old cadre of superfoes we used to rely on are gone, dead or otherwise unavailable. And traversing the fourth dimension to find them in alternate dimensions or different points of their timelines will assuredly alert those quantum baffoons to our activities.
Landozzel: So....we sit.
HG Wells: And do nothing.
Landozzel [disgusted]: You've lost your enthusiasm for villainy, Wells.
HG Wells: Being a writer is successful and fulfilling enough, old friend.
[Suddenly there is a knock on the front door. As Wells sorts the pack of cards for a new game, Landozzel, eager to find something different to do, immediately jumps up and bounds across the living room. He opens the door without so much as checking first to see how it is. A shadowy man of equal size, clad in a top hat and a black overcoat, stands on the front porch.]
Landozzel: May I....help you?
Mystery man: Mr. Wells? Mr. Landozzel?
[Landozzel's eyes immediately widen, while back at the table Wells loses control of his sorting and the deck of cards spits all over the table. Both are aghast at this stranger's precise identification of both of them.]
Mystery man: Well of course it's you.
[Before either Wells and Landozzel can act, the mystery man suddenly pulls his coat open. But instead of a pervert from beyond space and time exposing himself, a large spherical device with a pitch black interior is unveiled, and within microseconds it explodes in a loud thunderclap. Landozzel and Wells are overwhelmed by a strong wind begins to suck everything in, and can only briefly howl in shock and horror as this mini-black hole sucks them directly into the mystery man's person and out of Victorian London. Upon consuming the 2 men, the mystery man quite literally collapses on himself and retreats within this black hole event. Silence reigns, and this entire scene of astronomical chaos is no more.]
*******
[In a dark room, somewhere.....else, Landozzel and HG Wells are violently deposited onto a cold hard floor, as a strong gust quickly enters and exits the room. They stand, as a single small light shines down upon them, bright enough so that they can see each other but nothing else.]
Landozzel: Well, that was rude. Although it does smell nice in here.
HG Wells: Isn't this the kind of thing that happens to Piett and Villechaize? We're the villains, for God's sake. We do this kind of thing to them!
Landozzel: I wouldn't say villains, really. Ne'er do wells, perhaps, or rapscallions.
[Suddenly the room begins to illuminate. Not by any interior lighting, but by the sudden appearance of a large panoramic window, which displays their true location: they are in orbit above the Earth, in all its radiant natural beauty.]
Landozzel: Oh...oBLEARGHHHHHHHH [vomits all over the floor]
HG Wells: What the-?! Did you just vomit because we're in space?! We've been out here dozens of times!
Landozzel: No, no... [spits] ...just something I ate. Or at least feels like something I ate. God damn black holes. So we're over Earth now, are we?
HG Wells: Yes. Overlooking the Western hemisphere. [grumbles] Always the western hemisphere. Fucking America. [leans against the window to the outside of the space station] And we're in a spherical satellite of competent design, as we still have gravity. Not too large, enough to hold a few hundred people perhaps. Definitely not something I'd agree to use as a headquarters. Could be one of the clones' forgotten lairs, or that evil Herve who ran around way back when. I don't really remember.
Landozzel: So someone with a black hole device on his chest travels to 1899 London, sucks us into a centralized astronomical phenom and dumps us in a satellite orbiting the Earth. This is either pointless or it's going somewhere.
You would be correct, Landozzel!
[Landozzel and Wells shriek (though if you ask them later, they'd probably play down its squeelish pitch) as they are taken aback by this disembodied voice. They turn, and suddenly a row of humanoid figures sit behind an elevated table on the other side of this room. Though the room is brightened by the Earth outside, they still appear silhouetted, possibly through unexplainable and intentional methods, to prevent identification.]
Welcome to the Satellite of Hate.
Landozzel: Ah, finally, someone to--
[As he tries to approach, he walks directly into a force field, blocking Landozzel and Wells from the darkened figures. He stumbles back, shocked by a low-amped yet stinging electric jolt.]
Landozzel: OW! What the hell is that?!
Be silent, or be silenced!
HG Wells: So this is how it is, then. We're your prisoners. At your mercy. Well......have at it then.
[Wells turns around, pulls his pants down and invites the inevitable probing that science fiction and some religions say all non-Earthly beings engage in when taking Earthlings prisoner.]
OH!
Oh what the hell!!
That is nasty!
Is he circumcised?
Put those back on right now!!
[Wells complies and pulls his pants up, then turns back to their mysterious roommates.]
Landozzel [whispers]: Circumcised?
HG Wells: Long story, some other time.
Before your....uninvited depantsing, we were going to......oh gods, that image will last with me forever......we were going to say that no, it's not "like that." We're sorry about him. He's a bit of a grumpy gus.
HG Wells [to himself]: "Grumpy gus?"
Allow ourselves to introduce ourselves. We.....are the League of Enigmatic Ne'er-Do-Wells.
[Pause]
What? What are you doing?
Landozzel: Hang on.
[Pause]
HG Wells: .....LEN? You named your group "LEN?"
Landozzel: You named yourself after proported and deceased NBA superstar Len Bias? How random.
[Wells fistbumps Landozzel for the fairly obscure reference for all those not aware of Boston Celtics history like I might be.]
No, we.....wait, that's the acronym you came up with? There are numerous other words that could've been a part of it, yet you cut them out and went with "LEN."
HG Wells: Well it's the easiest. And "LOENDW" just sounds stupid. How do you even say that?
Looooo.....end......wa?
Yeah, they've got a point.
That just sounds dumb.
He's right, I told you people would pick out "LEN."
Stop siding with them. They are the inferior minions, while we are the superior masters.
Landozzel: If we knew how to get out of here, we would leave right now.
But you can't. Score one for the superior masters!
Now you're just being spiteful. We didn't bring them here to be spiteful towards them.
HG Wells: And why DID you bring us here? To ramble in an extremely annoying fashion.
That one's got a mouth on him.
Yes, because they're humans. Humans have mouths.
Oh, I am going to punch your face so hard.
HG Wells: YOU SEE?!?
Landozzel: Before we commit suicide or you're all bored to death by your own complaining, perhaps you should cut to the core of this and tell us why you've summoned us here.
Allow me. Because I haven't actually spoken yet so you have more reason to trust me. We have summoned you here to join our elite league of villains.
Landozzel: "Elite league of villains." You are aware that we have not only headed up our own congregation of super-foes, but we know them to be a dime a dozen and really a waste of our time.
We know your true reasons for retirement, Mr. Landozzel. You fear the quantum agents of the Continuum.
HG Wells [in Landozzel's ear]: Ok, they have my attention now.
Yet your fear is quite unfounded, considering we are now firmly in your corner. You will be surprised, and utterly impressed, at the resources we have at our disposal. These baffoons, as both you and we have come to know them, are quite vulnerable to our methods. Over the last several years, we have managed to subvert ourselves into the fabric of space and time. We have done our own adventuring across the multiverses and come to discover there are many....blind spots and loopholes. Our enterprise of villainy has thus grown, and our numbers have swelled to most impressive amounts. With the 2 of you, easily the 2 most experienced, the time has come to take on the quantum agents and render them useless once and for all.
Landozzel: That was a lot of bolded wordage......but I like it.
HG Wells: Indeed.
Really? I was actually expecting a bit more of your mouth before we talked you over to our side.
See? I told you!
Landozzel: Consider us willing participants in your Len Bias organization.
[HG Wells pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head.]
Simple. We will provide you with passage into the Space Time Continuum itself, into the very lair of the quantum agents and their masters, Cosmos and Chronos.
HG Wells: R...really?
Yes. What, were you expecting some secondary missions off the bat to prove your obedience and slowly build up to the ultimate task?
Landozzel: Yes, actually.
Oh. Well....um...sorry?
Landozzel: Oh no, not a problem.
Alright then. Upon getting there, you are to acquire this...
[Pause]
What's going on? What happened?
Oh, was this what we needed to hologram for?
What does that mean?
It means the hologram machine is out of service and I was really hoping we'd be able to wing this presentation without it.
The hologram was always a vital part of the presentation, you imbecile!
HG Wells: I will break one of these windows to get out of this embarassing affair. Just want you all to know this.
Well......the device you SHOULD be able to see is called the MacGuffin gun. It is a weapon of incredible power. Its user can use the gun to do...well, anything. Wound, kill, heal, cure. Unmake something, remake something. And so on. Believe me, it's quite impressive and futuristic in its design, which would've been nicely displayed if you could see it.
Landozzel: We'll just have to take your annoyingly bolded words for it.
Indeed. Steal the weapon from the lair of Cosmos and Chronos, and return it here. And if you must dispatch with anyone along the way, then so be it. Now, allow us to introduce your team.
HG Wells: Team? Oh brother, I don't miss this part.
[A group of people suddenly flicker into sight.]
Oh sweet, the holgoram machine's working again!
Idiot! We've transported them into sight.
I didn't know any of us could do that.
I can.
Which one are you?
The one on the far right.
My right or your right?
We're all sitting faced in the same direction!
For the love of God, stop! I'm pretty sure Wells really IS about to break one of the windows.
Fine. Gentlemen, allow us to introduce your team.....Super Collider, the human black hole!
Landozzel: Hey! That's the bugger who captured us to start this all off!
Yes, but since we've explained ourselves and you've joined up, you don't care.
Landozzel: Well, I'm still a bit miffed...
Never mind. Next is...the Bionocle! He's so insidious that he wears not one....but TWO monocles!
Bionocle: And they shoot laser beams!
Next is the android murderer H1N1!
HG Wells: Wait, he's a murderer who's an android, or a murderer of androids?
Does it matter? He is H1N1, the disease carrying android!
Landozzel: So we'll give Piett and Herve AIDS, huzzah!
No, he just carries the Swine Flu.
Landozzel: I don't know what that is.
Neither do we, but we're certain it's quite lethal.
[H1N1 coughs, something awful.]
HG Wells: Did that murdering android just cough?
And finally, because all the gangs of villains you encounter must include some cartoonesque pop culture reference, your final team member is The Monster Mind!
[The Monster Mind, from the cartoon Jayce and the Wheeled Warriors, appears and nods politely to his fellow antagonists.]
HG Wells: The Monster Mind? Jayce and the Wheeled Warriors?! That's lame.
How so?
Landozzel: You couldn't get us any better cartoon/toy villains? Cobra Commander? Megatron? Skeletor?
No, no and no. They're all currently unavailable to us.
HG Wells: Unavailable?! We were just unavailable to you and yet you swiped us out of my home?! Why are these 3 unavailable?
They're in the middle of making movies.
Landozzel: The cartoon and toy villains are making movies.
Well, they're not making the movies. Hollywood is using them in huge blockbuster films, or at least planning to, and we've thus been forbidden from using them and their likenesses.
Landozzel: So who else is there?
Trust us, we've scoured the era of 1980's cartoons and can't find anyone decent.
HG Wells: Hordak?
She-Ra movie.
Landozzel: Mumm-Ra?
Thundercats movie.
HG Wells: King Zarkon? Lotor? Haggar?
Voltron movie. And have you seen that cartoon lately?
HG Wells: Maybe 20 years ago.
Totally doesn't hold up.
Yeah. Terrible.
Landozzel: Miles Mayhem?
MASK movie.
Landozzel: I just refuse to believe that.
HG Wells: Krulos?
Who?
HG Wells: Krulos, emperor of the Rulons. Sworn enemy of the Valorians.
You're speaking nonsense.
Landozzel: The bad guy of Dino-Riders, you bastards!
Dino riders?
As in they ride dinosaurs?
HG Wells and Landozzel: Yes!!!
...for fun?
HG Wells: No, in combat!
Interesting. You'd think one of us would've heard of that.
Never mind this shit. The only cartoon and toy villain we do have the Monster Mind! Take him and leave!
Landozzel: Fine. We accept his admission into our ragtag group of--
No, I meant take him and LEAVE! Off with you! Get out!
Landozzel: But we have no idea where we're going!
Yes you do! Pay attention!
You'll know soon enough anyway!
[Super Collider activates his black hole portal and both he and the team depart. However, before Wells can leave, one of the councilmen calls out to him.]
Wait!
HG Wells: If it's more nonsensical banter, I really will break--
Wells, know this! The MacGuffin gun only once! Its powers only work once.
HG Wells: Ok. Couldn't you have told us all that?
We know what you're thinking, what your true thoughts on all this are. And we approve! Now go!
[A bit puzzled, Wells turns back to the portal and is consumed...]
*******
[Moments later, he is in a dark and fairly dank room, surrounded by Landozzel.]
Landozzel: What took you so long?
HG Wells: Hrm? Oh, nothing. Just some....confusion back on that satellite. [looks around] Where are we?
Landozzel: Good question. I presumed we'd be in the mansion itself, but we're in some dark and.... [sniffs] fairly dank room.
[H1N1 coughs.]
Landozzel: Ok, that is just damned creepy. What is up with you?
[H1N1 coughs again, a bit more intense this time.]
Bionocle: He can't speak. Don't think he was even programmed with the ability to use his vocal processors to speak words.
HG Wells: But he can cough.
Bionocle: Yes. The irony is tantalizing, isn't it?
HG Wells: Not really.
Bionocle: Yes. Well.....once you get the whole "I'm wearing 2 monocles thing," you'll find I'm a pretty generic character.
HG Wells: And what about him? [points to Super Collider]
Bionocle: He doesn't talk much because......well, I don't know why.
Super Collider: I have nothing to contribute except my violently loud and hazardous black hole portal technology. So why bother talking?
HG Wells: See, now THAT's a character to my liking.
Bionocle: And what about Monster Mind?
[As Monster Mind goes to speak, he suddenly vanishes into thin air.]
Bionocle: The hell?!
Super Collider: I so did not do that.
Landozzel: Seriously? Not even one line of dialogue?
HG Wells: There's only one explanation for what just happened. Hollywood just greenlit a Jayce and the Wheeled Warriors movie.
Landozzel: And still no Dino-Riders. Well, time to figure out where--oh wait, I know where we are. We're in the basement of their mansion.
Bionocle: Wow, that's incredible.
HG Wells: How do you know? It's so dark and fairly dank in here.
[Landozzel merely points and Wells follows his finger, where a large LARGE pile of items sit in all their decadent glory.]
HG Wells: Holy God, look at all that porn.
Bionocle: My 2 monocles have never seen so much!
[Super Collider runs over, starts perusing the videos and DVDs and magazines and books and toys...then looks around...then activates his black hole portal and collapses in on himself, escaping back to his lair taking as much of the porn as he possibly can.]
Landozzel: Terrific. There goes our transport. AND he barely made a dent in the pile.
[A black hole portal opens again, and all present watch as the pornography is sucked in. Several minutes pass, for even with a concentrated mini-black hole at work, it still takes that long to consume all the porn. Finally, it's gone and the portal snaps shut.]
HG Wells: Gods, let's just get out of this place and topside so we can get this whole ordeal over with.
[The group, now reduced by 2, move across the basement room. They reach a staircase and begin their ascent to the main chambers of the mansion above. Suddenly, H1N1 begins another coughing fit. Only this time....he collapses, down the stairs in an ugly mess, and lies still and silent on the cold floor below. Bionocle descends the stairs and checks H1N1's neck and arm.]
Bionocle: He's....he's dead.
HG Wells: Wait, why did you check for a pulse? He's a robot, he doesn't have one.
Landozzel: And how does a robot die of the flu??
HG Wells: Who cares? Leave him!
Bionocle: So I'm the cannon fodder, aren't I?
Landozzel: Probably.
HG Wells: Shut up and let's go!
[The trio moves up the stairs. They reach the top and slowly move a large metallic door aside and open. Oddly, they find themselves emerging into the living area of the mansion, where an elegant and antique carpet covers them. For some reason they choose to move underneath the carpet rather than move it, and for several minutes they crawl from the gateway to the carpet's end.]
Landozzel: This is a big motherfuckin' carpet.
HG Wells: I really hope no one's in this room right now, because this probably looks so stupid.
[They hear voices, but in the distance, so their admitted and overt stupidity may yet be deniable. It is Piett and Herve, conversing about their usual drama or some such crap.]
Piett: Why would she even called me "Ishmael?"
Herve: She was just fucking with you, dude. Playing mind games. You know how women get.
Piett: But what if that's not it? What if this reality we've recreated resulted in me being a different person entirely?!
Herve: That's too trippy and redonkulous to even consider, man. And I don't think Walsh has enough time anymore to really ponder the structure of a story delving into that.
Piett: I dunno. I feel the urge to go into seclusion, or on vacation, and try to...rediscover myself or something.
Herve: I would suggest keeping that to confined quarters. Last time I saw you rediscovering yourself I tried to puke up my internal organs. That was unpleasant. And not just because I succeeded in heaving up my appendix...
[Suddenly Herve and Piett are aware that....they are not alone. They turn.]
Piett: What the--
[Now emerged from underneath the old and very nice carpet, Landozzel, Wells and Bionocle lock eyes with Piett and Herve.]
Landozzel: You!!!
Piett: You?!?!
HG Wells: Double you!!!!
Bionocle: Uh....hi!
Herve: PEE!!!!!!!!
Piett: Landozzel and HG Wells?!? Ascending from Cosmos' basement lab / Chronos' porno lair?!
Herve: And some other dude!
[Landozzel suddenly holds his head, as if a killer migrane. Frustrated, Wells steps forward.]
HG Wells: This is a...um, stickup!
Piett: What.
HG Wells: We've come for the MacGuffin gun!
Herve: Thet whatwhositkabob?
HG Wells: Don't act like you don't know! Our, um, employers
Piett: You're working for evil villainous masters now? Oh, for shame.
HG Wells: Shut up, or my compatriot Bionocle will shoot you with his...[becoming more embarassed the more he speaks]...monocle lasers!
Bionocle: I do and will, by gum!
Herve: Oh, those are 2 monocles. I was thinking they were just fucked up glasses.
Piett: Now hold on, folks, we don't need any violence caused by...[snickering]...monocle lasers. We'll get you what you want.
[Piett slowly backs up and grabs his cellphone.]
Landozzel [still headachy]: What.....what are you doing?
Piett: I have to call Cosmos and Chronos, as we have no idea what you're even talking about.
Piett: Hey, it's me. Yeah, listen....you won't believe who just showed up. [pause] No, no, not Eunice Kennedy Shriver. It's Landozzel and HG Wells. They're holding us up. [pause] Well, not really holding us up. Some douche with 2 monocles says he'll shoot us with lasers if we don't-- [pause] No, not a gun. [pause] No, not with his cock, Chronos. Lasers shot out of the monocles. [pause] Yeah, it does seem pretty stupid, but with what I've seen I can believe it. They say they want something called the MacGuffin gun. Any idea what-- [pause] Really. [pause] REALLY?! Wow, that's pretty awesome. And it's just in the bookshelf? [looks] Huh. There it is. You'd think I'd have noticed a gun there before. So should I... [pause] Without a fight? [pause] Ok, if you say so. Yup, later. [hangs up]
Landozzel: So?
Piett: They say we should give it to you. It's there in the bookshelf.
HG Wells: Why the hell are we even arguing over this?! Get the gun!!
[Landozzel, still overcome with this headache, moves Piett and Herve aside and grabs the gun, which was in between the Bible and a novel adaptation of Porky's 2, which is why Piett probably never noticed it before. He returns and gives it to HG Wells, sitting down ]
Bionocle: Oh no! Mr. Landozzel has probably fallen victim to the swine flu thanks to the android murderer!
Piett: What, a murderer who's an android, or a murderer of androids?
HG Wells: We still don't know!
Herve: Swine flu?! Quick, get him some Canada Dry ginger ale!
Piett: But he's the villain! Ginger ale will make him better!
Herve: No, actually ginger ale helps the disease accelerate and kills you quicker!
HG Wells: Enough of this! Bionocle, kill them!
[Bionocle steps forward and glares at Piett and Herve. The quantum adventurers are shocked as his eyes suddenly glow, and laser beams shoot out of his eyes, just as was promised earlier.]
Herve: Oh shit! His monocles really do shoot lasers!
Piett: That's kinda awesome, but also maybe lame if he's got nothing else to his personality!
Bionocle: Dammit, even you can tell!!
[Piett and Herve scatter as Bionocle canvases the area with laser beams. Piett stumbles and falls behind a couch, while Herve flips about, all acrobatic-like, until finally tackling Bionocle to the ground. They struggle, but Bionocle stops fighting and starts giggling.]
Bionocle: Ok, this is actually kinda funny. Like I'm being mauled by a teddy bear.
[Herve replies by biting him on the neck.]
Bionocle: AARRGGGHHH!! You little teddy bear fuck!!
[He grabs Herve and flings him off, then glares at him across the room and prepares to fire his lasers again.]
Piett: Hey, wait a minute.
Bionocle: Wha--
[Piett suddenly spins Bionocle around and, with a quick and harsh ferocity, gouges Bionocle's eyes.]
Bionocle: NGAAAGGGUUUAAGHHHHH!!!!!!
[Piett pulls the monocles right out of Bionocle's head and smiles, the threat of this new foe effectively ended. But instead of screaming in agony, Bionocle falls dead to the ground.]
Herve: Snap!
Piett: Fuck my butt! He's dead?!
Herve: I guess his monocles were the key to both lasers and life.
Piett: How.....lame?
Herve: Yeah, despite the initial belief that he was awesome, that is quite lame.
HG Wells: Fucking lame-o! Now what?! Landozzel!!
[Landozzel finally stands up straight, though wincing with pain. There is a fairly long pause, as Piett and Herve approach them, when suddenly...]
Landozzel: Dude, what's goin' on?!
[...to the shock of all, Landozzel embraces Piett.]
Piett: What the fuck is this?!
HG Wells: That's what I'D like to know!
Landozzel: Wells, it's our old friend Piett!
HG Wells: Old friend?! He's our enemy!
Herve: Hey, you were kind of an ally for like a few minutes way back--
HG Wells: THEY'RE BOTH OUR ENEMIES!!!!
Piett: I could understand Wells being evil, moreso than I can understand [frantically points at Landozzel, who is still hugging him] this!
Landozzel: I've been waiting for this for a long time!
Piett: Oh God he's not gonna bang me is he?!?
Herve: This is wrong. Yet I can't look away.
HG Wells: Wha.......how.......th......
[Unable to make his point through such friendly manners, Landozzel suddenly snatches the MacGuffin Gun from Wells hands. He backs up, smiles...and shoots himself right in the chest.]
Piett, Herve and Wells: AHHHHHHH!!!!!!
Herve: Holy piss, poop and puke! He's dead!
[As the smoke clears, several beings emerge into sight. Everyone present is surprised.]
Piett: Oh my--
Herve: What the--
Wells: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!
Lando Calrissian: I'm free......God almighty, I'm FREE!!!
Admiral Ozzel: My word, that was incredibly unpleasant. Thank goodness that horror is ov......Piett?!
Piett: Hi, Ozzel.
Ozzel: Oh lord, you're still alive?! Suddenly being combined with the lothario doesn't seem so bad.
Herve: Dude, it's Lando and Ozzel! It's.....Landoz--oh wait, can't use that anymore.
Piett: Hang on, I think......I think there's someone else?!?
[To everyone's surprise, a 3rd person appears out of the smoke.]
Herve: Whoa.
Piett: Well THAT explains why he's suddenly so nice!
Stan Lee: Excelsior, old friends!
All: STAN LEE!!
Herve: So wait...is HE the reason for Landozzel's lovey dovey nature?!
Stan Lee: That's right, true believers! Seems during one of your recent escapades at Comic-Con...
Piett: Recent? I don't remember tha[Herve jabs him in the side to shut him up]oh um, yeah, right. We were totally there and there are no universal glitches explaining why I'd think otherwise.
Stan Lee: ...I was somehow enveloped and trapped within the other-dimensional aura of this amalgamated man! I somehow existed between time and space and was helpless to do anything while until a recent flux in the very fabric of the universes allowed me to gain more control over his personality. Which made him vomit, oddly enough. [pauses] Say, excluding the vomit, that'd be a great idea for a cartoon or TV movie!
Piett: Or comic book?
Stan Lee: OR COMIC BOOK! Haha! So once I found you, I knew I could reveal myself and all would be back to normal!
Herve: Except for Wellsy there getting eye raped by seeing his comrade in arms just destroy himself once and for all.
Stan Lee: It's time for me to return to my life of creating and entertaining the masses! Excelsior, my friends, and thank you!!! [begins running around in place, and soon begins to fade from sight]
Herve: Wait, he already said "Excelsior."
Stan Lee: It means hello and goodbye!
Piett: Oh, like "Aloha."
[Stan Lee says something else but is too far gone to be heard. And thus he has vanished. We're thinking it was possibly something inadvertedly racist against Hawaiians.]
Herve: Hey, shouldn't we stop him? He's totally ripping us off with that premise of his.
Piett: Relax. His comic book, cartoon and other multimedia projects these days never sell or get noticed. Now, let's collect Lando and Ozzel and GOOD LORD WHAT HAPPENED?!?
[Piett and Herve recoil in horror as Lando Calrissian and Admiral Ozzel, the other elements of the former amalgam Landozzel, lie dead on the ground. HG Wells stands over them, with the smoking MacGuffin gun.]
Herve: You killed them!
Piett: Aw man, I was hoping to get in some more witty banter with Ozzel. And maybe ask Lando for advice about my lady problems.
HG Wells: Landozzel was useless to me like this. His death was inevitable once his resolve toward evil was weakened.
Herve: You could've recombined him or something.
HG Wells: Its powers can only be used once.
Herve: Well that's stupid.
Piett: And decidedly harsh, man.
HG Wells: I'm a member of the League of Enigmatic Ne'er-Do-Wells. It's of my nature now to do something like this.
Herve [to himself]: ....LEN?
HG Wells: The name alone demands that I survive. This mission was nothing more than a way for me to prove my loyalty to the organization.
[Confused pause.]
HG Wells: It's got "Wells" at the end of it! It's practically named after me, and screams the fact that I was the only villain destined to survive this adventure. Or, rather....
[Wells coldly aims and, without pause, shoots both Piett and Herve. They collapse and are motionless. Wells smirks, pockets the McGuffin Gun and runs away. And almost as if his shadowy masters knew it, a black hole portal opens directly in his path and he jumps inside.]
*******
[Several moments pass...]
Herve: OWWWWWW!!!
Piett: Dude.....he shot us! US!
Herve: Why did we let him do that?!
Piett: I was playing mind games with him. Looks like he won.
Herve: You didn't do anything!!
Piett: I was trying to use my cosmic awareness to coerce him to just go away. Or at least shoot and miss. Guess that power doesn't work on old Englishmen with guns.
Herve: Yeah I guess it DOESN'T!!
[Piett gets up, clutching his chest. He pulls Herve to his feet and they slowly walk away toward the main chamber of the mansion.]
Herve: So how are we still alive?
Piett: We're the title characters.
Herve: So?
Piett: We're not destined to die so lamely. Besides, would you read "the adventures of Quantum George Gaynes?"
Herve: Of course I would!
Piett: So would I. [sighs] Ok, bad example. How about "the adventures of Quantum Jim Ferr?"
Herve: Oh Jesus no!
Piett: See?
Herve: Fair enough.
Piett: To the bathroom, where we keep....the band-aids!!
...Epilogue...
[Back in outer space, hovering over the Earth, HG Wells emerges back in the darkened meeting room with the panoramic view, where the shadowy League of Enigmatic Ne'er-Do-Wells council sit arguing amongst themselves. They stop quickly though.]
Ah, you have returned.
And alone.
HG Wells: I have. And with your gun. Mission accomplished.
[HG Wells tosses the gun toward the council. One of the members catches it, then hands it to another. The gun is suddenly and quickly destroyed.]
HG Wells: What the fuck?!?
You have failed us, Wells. There is to be a reckoning.
I prefer crucible.
Not this again...
HG Wells: Failed you?! I got the McGuffin Gun! And I killed Landozzel when he became fractured and unreliable! My initiation is complete!
Initiation? We just outsourced a job to you, nothing more.
HG Wells: You said you knew what I was thinking and approved! And I was thinking that this was all an initiation!
We lied. Duh.
Plus your callous disregard for the other villains - for contracted villains, no less - warrants punishment. Punishment of the highest and most awful order!
HG Wells: Punishment?! What about a trial?
The trial is over! And the verdict is guilty. Guilty of the one unforgiveable crime...failure!
HG Wells: Ok, that's it....I'm calling you stupid cartoon and toy villains out!
....WHAT?!?
HG Wells: I have heard the animated GI Joe movie quoted TWICE now in the course of this whole affair. And one of your totally just ripped off The Venture Brothers with that "crucible" line. So it's clear what this is....you're all just a group of cartoon and toy villains who are not viable for motion picture adaptation because, quite frankly, you probably pretty much all suck.
.....ok, that's impressive.
Yes. Most impressive.
I really didn't think he'd catch those.
Good show, Mr. Wells.
HG Wells: So let's have it. On with the lights so that I can chastise the lot of you!
[The lights turn on....and HG Wells is dumbfounded and appalled. Indeed, it is a collection of rejected-for-the-big-screen cartoon and toy villains. Golobulus, supreme master of Cobra-La....Bludgeon, Decepticon Pretender who looks like a hulking samurai Skeletor....Cy-Kill, diabolical motorcycle Go-Bot....Krulos, ruler of the Rulons and big bad of the Dino-Riders....Shadow Weaver, evil minion of the Horde....Miles Mayhem, leader of VENOM and anti-MASK enthusiast....and the Monarch, arch-nemesis of the Venture Brothers. But not one of them is even a real living being. Instead, they are nothing more than a series of cardboard cutouts.]
Golobulus: Haha! So you have deduced on true identities! Well then, have at you! Mince us with your awful words!
Bludgeon: I'm a Transformer with a skull for a face! It makes no damn sense to people anymore! Nowadays the kids want their Transformers to look like metallic abortions.Krulos: I mocked myself openly because even I understand the Dino-Riders have an appeal that never escaped the 1980's!
Miles Mayhem: I wear a helmet, not a mask! Why are they even called MASK if they wear helmets too?!
Shadow Weaver: And I had the gaul to make fun of Voltron. Me, who was in that She-Ra cartoon...that was way more awful than Voltron ever was!
Monarch: And I don't even know why I'm here. Venture Brothers is still alive and well on Adult Swim. They could totally do a Venture Brothers movie at some point. But instead I'm just slumming here with these plebes and MINIONS!!!!
[Pause]
HG Wells: WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!?!?!
[Long pause. Finally, the cardboard figures fall aside and 2 men rise up from behind the table.]
Cosmos: Ok, fine, we'll stop.
Chronos: Toldja we should've gone for the CGI. But you had to cheapskate it and do cardboard cutouts.
HG Wells: Cosmos and Chronos?!? What is this, what's going on here?!?
Cosmos: You're smarter than this, Wellsy. Figure it out.
Chronos: Oh trust me, he just keeps reacting like this for a few more minutes without any plot development. Can we just transmogrify him now?
Cosmos: Fine, go ahead.
[Chronos points at HG Wells and a beam of energy lashes out and consumes HG Wells. Wells screams in agony as his body is turned inside out. The energy dissipates and what remaings of Herbert George Wells lies in a heap on the cold metal floor. He slowly stands up, and looks at himself.]
HG Wells: You've...you've turned me INSIDE OUT!!!
Cosmos: Nice, and you managed to turn just his body inside out. The clothes are still intact.
Chronos: Yeah no one wants to see an inside out dong.
HG Wells: Why have you done this?!?
Chronos: Hey, we have totally increased your menace by like a thousand percent. Who's gonna fuck with HG Wells the Inside Out Man?!
Cosmos: It's not the obvious Invisible Man riff, it's slightly askew and even more twisted. One of Chronos' better ideas, really.
HG Wells: What is this all about?! I thought you were the good guys. But....you're not?!
Cosmos: Oh, no explanations just yet. Our plans have yet to evolve to fruition. So for now....we're putting you in storage.
HG Wells: What does thaaaaAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!
[Suddenly the Super Collider reappears out of nowhere with black hole portal on full blast. HG Wells is sucked into the abysmal void, which closes up behind him. Super Collider points to the doorway leading out of the room (yes, there was a doorway here the whole time and yet Wells and Landozzel never used it) and Chronos nods.]
Cosmos: .....so this was all because you wanted to steal your own porn from the basement and move it here?
Chronos: No deliveryman was gonna schlep that stuff from the Continuum to here. UPS came close, but the rates were insane. Constructing a being with both the powers of a black hole and minimal personality was the only way to go.
Cosmos: Piett and Herve could've done it before we....you know...
Chronos [leans back]: Piett and Herve won't live to see the end of this. The downfall of space and time is already in motion, and their deaths are but a cog in the grand scheme of things. [pause] Besides, Herve would found a way to steal most of it for himself. And I can't have my porn being destroyed when the multiverse dies....
*fin*
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