Top Gassing

A bonus (and non-Quantum Piett) story, original written & posted online years ago, and rewritten not too long ago...

+++++++

[Scene: The Death Star, in the tractor beam room. Two stormtroopers are stationed near the tractor beam, where Ben Kenobi is hiding.]

Stormtrooper 1: Do you know what's going on?
Stormtrooper 2: Maybe it's another drill.

[Ben moves around the tractor beam, watching the stormtroopers as they turn their backs to him and chat.]

Stormtrooper 1: Have you seen that new BT-16?
Stormtrooper 2: Yeah, some of the other guys were telling me about it. They say it's, it's quite a thing to...what was that?

[Ben gestures with his hand toward them as the troops think they hear something in the other hallway. With the help of the Force, Ben deftly slips past the troopers and into the main hallway.]

Stormtrooper 1: That's nothing. Top gassing. Don't worry about it.

[Long pause]

Stormtrooper 2: I...don't think that's top gassing.
Stormtrooper 1: What makes you think...oh Jesus Christ! That is NOT top gassing!
Stormtrooper 2: "Jesus Christ?"
Stormtrooper 1: Well, not the usual top gassing at least.

[Another long pause]

Stormtrooper 1: Oh God...that stench is unbearable.
Stormtrooper 2: What in the hell could ever make a horrific smell like that anyway? Stormtrooper 1: Ever been to Tatooine?
Stormtrooper 2: Nope.
Stormtrooper 1: Everything there smells like that.
Stormtrooper 2: Get out.
Stormtrooper 1: Seriously. So much worse than this odor. That back-asswards planet could kill any normal person just by the smell of it.
Stormtrooper 2: So how in the hell can anyone live there, much less visit?
Stormtrooper 1: It must be like some natural or...selective immunity.
Stormtrooper 2: Must be.
Stormtrooper 1: Plus these uniforms, for all their frailities, actually keeps the smell out really well.
Stormtrooper 2: Yet they're not laserproof. At all.
Stormtrooper 1: I know. Go fig.

[Yet another long freakin' pause.]

Stormtrooper 2: It's getting hard to breathe in here. I'm getting concerned for my health.
Stormtrooper 1: What *is* top gassing, anyway?
Stormtrooper 2: I dunno. You're the one who called it that.
Stormtrooper 1: I know, but that's just what I've heard it called.
Stormtrooper 2: You just repeating the same old drab lectures from Stormtrooper Academy, huh?
Stormtrooper 1: Yeah, guess so.
Stormtrooper 2: Typical stormtrooper attitude. We're all the same. Same exact outfits on each and every one of us. Same kind of lifeless responses to all sorts of questions. We're mere cogs in a giant machine. Hell, it's like we're all clones or something. Think about it.
Stormtrooper 1: Well you're no better.
Stormtrooper 2: Technically I am. I have plans to be bigger and better things.
Stormtrooper 1: Like...?
Stormtrooper 2: Technical officer. Maybe even a Star Destroyer controller.
Stormtrooper 1: Ooh, there's a step up in the gene pool. What's so different about that? You'd still be a face in the crowd, still be dressed like the next 20 people next to you.
Stormtrooper 2: Well at least my face would be showing.
Stormtrooper 1: I've seen it. It's nothing to be impressed about.
Stormtrooper 2: The hell, man!
Stormtrooper 1: I just can't see why it'd be that important to you.
Stormtrooper 2: It's an ego thing.
Stormtrooper 1: I can tell you one thing...*cough cough*...without a mask, that ego'd do no good from protecting you from these toxic fumes...
Stormtrooper 2: You do have a point there. [pause] Is this room changing color?
Stormtrooper 1: No. This is not good. We should report this.
Stormtrooper 2: Why? It's nothing that serious.
Stormtrooper 1: Well the chief did say to give a regular report.
Stormtrooper 2: And just what would we say? "Sir, it smells of ass down here. Request we abandon the station." Is that what you want to say?

[Pause]

Stormtrooper 1: Just imagine Tarkin's face if we did abandon the station because of one of the thousands of chambers smells like farts...

[Pause]

Stormtrooper 1: Y'know, that's almost worth getting Vader choked. I'm game.
Stormtrooper 2: There we go, man. Good for you. You've taken your first step into a larger world. Let's roll.

[The troopers abandon their post and run down a side corridor, activiating their comlinks on the way. Some distance down the main corridor, however, Ben Kenobi lies almost motionless on the ground, coughing and hacking for air.]

Ben: Damn Force...*hack hack*...I meant topgassing...not...*cough cough*...outgassing...! [falls down the shaft, dies, trilogy goes off track and ends with Jar-Jar winning or something]

*fin*

Quantum Piett Do Some Silly Shit

[The Space-Time Continuum. Piett and Herve are watching the new Muppets movie,. when suddenly....]

Piett: Holy shit, what are you doing?!
Herve: Holy crap, it's most certainly something silly and wacky yet I'll still defend myself as if it was normal!
Piett: Well stop doing that and converse with me about meaningless nonsense!
Herve: _____ is stupid and dumb, but not as stupid and dumb as ______!
Piett: I partially agree with you but disagree with you about other aspects of that statement!
Herve: I would engage in further discussion on this, but I believe we are about to be interuppted with the job!

[Cosmos and Chronos enter.]

Cosmos: We have stuff that needs to get done that could ruin other stuff we have going on in the multiverse!
Chronos: I'm going to joke about sensitive things and then feel bad about it inside!
Herve: You are terrible for saying those things although I would on the surface laugh and make light of it as well!
Cosmos: Go do things that may or may not mean anything in the greater meaning of the multiverse!
Chronos: I act straight but I think I'm gay!
Cosmos: I am gay!
Piett: We are leaving without much more comment!
Herve: I will tag along to allow witty banter in the adventures that follow!

[Cosmos and Chronos leave. Piett and Herve leave as well. Nearby, Cecil the doorman stands and mutters....]

Cecil: What the fuck is happening here?

*******

[On Planet _____, Piett and Herve walk down a long road. Since there is nothing to do but talk, they talk.]

Piett: I am saying things that make me seem like I'm in tune with current events and popular things, even though I'm not really.
Herve: Your words antagonize me enough to mock things like your appearance and marital status!
Piett: I am married but she never shows up anymore!
Herve: I question the timeline of this story as a result!

[As they continue walking, Cecil peers over a ridge of rocks with a pair of binoculars. He shakes his head in disgust and hands the binoculars over to his colleague, who is soon surprised by what he sees too.]

Cecil: You see? This is not right.
Supreme Pontiff Hook: Yeah, this is pretty bad. I'm glad you pulled me out of that Vatican 4 meeting for this.
Cecil: Are you being sarcastic?
Supreme Pontiff Hook: No. The religious shit gets really ludicrous when we start changing the rules of it all. Did you know they just wanna abortion "okay"? Like, really, that's what the pope said. "Okay."
Ben the Spider-Man [grabs binoculars]: They're just going through the caedences. Literally. It's the basic of motions and nothing more.
George Gaynes: Well I can barely tell a difference. They're just rambling per usual.
Cecil: Nonsense.
George Gaynes: Yes, rambling nonsense.
Cecil: No! I mean, for real this time! It's literal nonsense.
Supreme Pontiff Hook: God has finally given up on these two.
Ben the Spider-Man: And on Cosmos and Chronos too.
Supreme Pontiff Hook: Heathens. Hallowed be thy name, O Lord.
Ben the Spider-Man: You can't be serious.
George Gaynes: I liked him better when he was a supervillain with a religious motif, not an actual Vatican highfather. [thinks] No wait......I didn't like him then either.
Cecil: Focus on the problem at hands, you clods. These two are walking into something dangerous, I'm sure of it.
George Gaynes: Like what? Cancellation? [laughs, then suddenly becomes garbled by binary code and disappears]
Supreme Pontiff Hook: JESUS!!!
Cecil: No, just Walsh.

¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø

[He sits back from the keyboard and thinks a moment.]

Jesus Christ: Or is it?

[Pause]

Jesus Christ: No, it is. Yeah, you've definitely got malware or something in there.

Sean Walsh: Damn you, 14th security suite in a row that's failed me!

¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø

Ben the Spider-Man: Well, let's do s--

¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø

Jesus: Wait, am I a computer tech now?

¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø

--omething about this. Let's roll!

[Ben the Spider-Man leaps up and runs off to do something.]

Piett: Look, a fellow character who we have interacted with on occasion!
Herve: Your appearance is sudden and rather pointless!
Ben the Spider-Man: I....[long pause, during which he twitches fiercely, then...] I acknowledge your mockery, but shall join you in your journey to _____ nonetheless.

[In the distance, Cecil panics.]

Cecil: Fuckbags, Ben's been infected too!!
Supreme Pontiff Hook: O Lord, we beseech thee, show us the path to redemption and closure!

[Suddenly Supreme Pontiff Hook is absorbed by a bright light. He howls as a large hand extends for above and grabs him, but is soon no more.]

Cecil: Good grief, is this really.......is this really God's horrible revenge or something?!? [pause] Wait, was that hand made of felt?

¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø

Sean Walsh: Damn computer, what are you doing now?! AhhhhhHHHHH!!!!

¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø

[Cecil yells as&#%^&$%^&@#

THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.
THE MUPPETS. IN THEATRES NOW.

Piett: Hold on a fucking minute. Was this abortion of a story just a cheap and lousy advertisement for that new fucking Muppet movie?
Herve: I think so.
Piett: Yeesh, talk about viral marketing....
Herve: Ba dum tss.
Cecil: What's a Muppet?
Herve: Exactly, pointless side character of little importance. Exactly.

[Suddenly a large figure bursts into the room. Piett and Herve scream, while Cecil jumps behind a couch, effectively ending his part in this story as it turns out.]

Cecil: Aw...
Herve: Who is--
The Watcher: There is an infinite number of variables in the multiverse where destiny has taken unexpected turns! Unike YOU, I must simply wait and observe the events as they occur! But COME! and I shall show you more...FOR I AM THE WATCHER!!!!

[Pause]

Piett: Yes?
Watcher: What? [pause] Oh, sorry. I thought I was walking into someone introducing me.
Herve: How? You just burst in unexpectedly.
Piett: No wait, can you come bursting back in and scream "NO ONE EXPECTS THE SPANISH INQUISITION!"
Watcher: I will not.
Herve: Dude, your head is way too big for the rest of your body. How can you explain that?
Watcher: I live on the moon.
Herve: That's what you're going with.
Watcher: It is,
Cecil: He might actually have a point, given the gravity on the moon and the lack there--
Piett and Herve: Shut up and go away, Cecil!!!
Cecil: Aw... [leaves]
Watcher: Can I just go back to my original premise, please?
Herve: Yeah. We kinda wander with our rambling. Go ahead.
Watcher: Thanks. [postures dramatically again] Though I dare not interfere, I shall always WATCH! And SO SHALL YOU!

[Pause]

Herve: Are you a peeper?
Watcher: What?!
Herve: You watch people without them knowing it.
Watcher: Well, yes, but I would hardly compare it to being a--
Piett: PERVERT! PERVERT!

[Chronos runs in.]

Chronos: What? WHAT!!!

[Pause]

Chronos: Oh, hey Watcher.
Watcher: Hey, Earl.
Piett: Your name is Earl?!

[Watcher snickers.]

Chronos: Nah, it's just a running gag.
Herve: What....?
Piett: I don't...
Chronos: See? Not so funny when it happens to you, is it?
Piett: Shit, he got us there.
Chronos: This is The Watcher. From the Fantastic Four comics. He watches people. [creepily] When they sleep.
Watcher: Dude!
Chronos: Nah, he's legit. He chronicles stuff that happens. Multiversal crap, you know the gig.
Herve: Sadly.
Watcher: And I come here to show you the horrors of what you seem to underestimate today...
Herve: Peepers?
Chronos: My Name is Earl?
Piett: Mupp.....oh, I get it now. [groans] Uh, I mean....Muppets?
Watcher: Yes, The Muppets. [extends his hand] THE GREATEST HORROR THIS UNIVERSE HAS EVER KNOWN!!!!

[Pause]

Chronos: Not as dramatic when it's just one universe, when we monitor and govern zillions of them.
Watcher: Can you please let me get on with this?
Chronos: Fine. Come on, Cecil.
Cecil: But can't I at least--
Chronos: COME ON.

[Chronos and Cecil leave.]

Cecil: Wait, where did Ben the Spider-Man go? Does anyone even caoh who am I kidding of course no one does.
Watcher: I could never deal with all this distractions.
Herve: You get numb to it.
Piett: So the Muppets are awful?
Watcher: YES! They are immortal! Indestructible! And above all, unstoppable!! Nothing can stop The Muppets! And NOTHING ever will.
Piett: Somehow, I doubt that.

[The Watcher envelopes the quantum duo with a band of energy. They are shocked, and soon the mansion and continuum fade away around them.]

Watcher: Though I cannot prevent the events we are about to see, I can always WATCH! AND SO SHALL YOU!

*******

[November 10, 1938. Somewhere in Germany. The Nazi riots known as Kristallnacht are underway. Piett and Herve stand still and in silent horror as Germans and Nazis around them destroy and burn the homes and businesses of Jewish citizens, who are being forced out of their homes and expelled from German society. Their eyes are afixed on the atrocities around them.....or rather, at those who are committing the atrocities.]

Piett: Is that--
Herve: Oh lord, it--
Watcher: Behold, the rioters and true perpetrators of the Night of Broken Glass......MUPPETS!!!!

[Piett and Herve recoil in terror at this grim revelation, and also because they expect to be harmed.]

Watcher: You are invisible and transparent to these actions. You are here only to SEE. [looks aside] LOOK!

[Nearby, 2 felt-skinned Nazis throw bricks through storefronts, and others beat down Jews and drag them away. Piett and Herve, still frozen in place, hear a commotion beside them. A small child brawls with a Muppet monkey, until a Nazi officer - Johnny Fiama from Muppets Tonight - takes his gun and smashes the child in the forehead. As the child recovers, Fiama aims and shoots the Jewish child through the head.]

Piett: Oh fuck me sideways, I did not just see that!!
Herve: Why are we seeing this, Watcher?!
Watcher: Because you must KNOW! You must UNDERSTAND!
Piett: I see it, but I can't believe it. NOT THIS! There's no way Muppets had involvement the Nazis, NONE!!
Watcher: Then see this!

[Again, the trio vanish into thin air. They remanifest outside a German mansion, in the dead of winter 1942. The Watcher points to the building, and the 2 quantum adventurers walk carefully ahead, past several limousines and cars. Still invisible to the officers and house staff nearby, they enter the mansion. In a closed room, they hear voices. Piett opens the door, and stops dead in his tracks.]

Piett: Oh lord....OH JESUS CHRIST!!!!

[Herve cannot even muster a vocal response at what they see: the Wannsee Conference, helmed by Reinhard Heydrich......the meeting where Hitler's Final Solution was set into place. Many of these Nazi officials: Muppets. And in addition to the officials, 2 other disturbing figures send Piett into sheer madness.]

Dr. Bunsen Honeydew: So gentlemen, these are the methods in which the Jews shall be gassed. It is effective, quick and - I'm sure you're relieved to know - cheap. We estimate we expect to be able to process 2,500...an hour. Not a day, an hour. At 24 hours a day, that is 60,000, which totals 21,900,000 Jews a year.Beaker: Meep meep meep meep meep.
Dr. Bunsen Honeydew: Indeed, Beaker. If ever there were that many.
Piett: NonononononoNONONOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Piett grabs the sides of his heads and runs. Herve, still paralyzed by shock, turns to see him run away but cannot even bring himself to move any further. Piett leaves the house, still screaming, then stops in the driveway. As the Watcher looks on (but does not act, naturally) Piett grabs his belt buckle transporter.]

Piett: I WAS HAPPIER WITH THE ORIGINAL STORY FORMAT!!!

[He clicks it and vanishes back to the Space Time Continuum. Herve leaves the house and approaches the Watcher, obviously distraught and bothered.]

Watcher: Too much?
Herve: Yes....... [awkward pause] .......but I need to see more.
Watcher: O.....kay?

[They confusedly vanish into the ether again.]

*******

[Sometime later, back in the Space Time Continuum. Piett is sitting at the couch, with a pile of DVDs around him, featuring Nazis getting their commuppance. He is presently watching SCHINDLER'S LIST; but as his almost panicked control usage indicates......only the nice parts. Meanwhile, sitting in the trash are a full collection of Muppet DVDs.]

Piett: Ok....I'm feeling better about all this.
Cecil: Are you sure I can't take part in anymore--
Piett: Go the fuck away, Cecil! You remind me of those whose names I shall never speak again!!

[Suddenly a pulse of energy enters the room and Herve and the Watcher appear to Piett's side. Piett pauses the film and frantically gets up, while the Watcher helps Herve to a chair.]

Piett: What the...?! [grims] You didn't want to see more, did you?
Herve: Too much....too many.....
Watcher: He insisted. As we kept going, he demanded to see more. And more. [pause] He's not right in the head, is he?
Piett: Insufferably so, yes.
Herve: All those......horrors......all of it.....MUPPETS!!!

[He grabs Piett by the shoulders.]

Herve: Everyone evil in human history.....was a Muppet, Piett! Ivan the Terrible, Attila the Hun, Genghis Khan. Eric Idle.....the Vikings, Stalin's inner circle, warlords of the Congo, the Jehovah's Witnesses......all of them! Muppets!!! Crazy Harry blew up the World Trade Center on behalf of the Bush Administration.....the Crusades were just a big fight between the Dark Crystal and Sesame Street......Sweetums shot JFK! And RFK! And MLK! With the same damn gun!!
Piett: That one makes sense, shockingly.
Herve: The Count secretly wrote TWILIGHT and paid a whore to take the credit for it!!! And the Inquisition.....the executioners and their mocking death calls....."wocka wocka wocka!!!" "Wocka wocka wocka!!!" WOCKA WOCKA WOCKAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!
Piett: Gods......who knew Fozzie could be *un*funny?
Herve: I feel like one of those old men. [pauses] If anything, they were the only ones who didn't do anything bad. Explains so much.
Watcher: Actually, no. They got Bored to Death cancelled off of HBO.
Herve [shakes his fists]: FUCKING FUCKERS!!!!
Watcher: Although in all my years, and in all my visions, I can safely say this with great confidence........the horror of the Muppets is no more.
Piett: R-really?
Watcher: It is contained to the confines of the past. The Muppets and their evil......shall never harm mankind again.
Herve: This seems like quite the sudden turnaround of events.
Watcher: Honestly? I'd like to just go home. This entire affair has been quite tiring. You people........you need help, man.
Herve: Wow, this is dark.
Piett: I almost prefer the Nazi Muppets.
Herve: Ok then. Bye, Watcher.
Watcher: Whatever. [leaves]
Piett: It can't end like this, can it?
Herve: Hey, not everyone has to like us.
Piett: No, I mean.......it can't end so candidly and serious like this, can it?
Herve: No.................no, it can't......

Epilogue:

[In a darkened and packed theatre, Piett, Herve and the Watcher view a very cool and artistic movie trailer, filled with vague things and flashy music. Finally, the title scrolls.....]

Fraggle Rock the Movie...
Watcher: What.........oh goodness, it doesn't get better!

[The Watcher makes a gun with his fingers and shoots himself through the head. Piett is sprayed with Watcher brain matter.]

Piett: MY POPCORN!

...directed by David Fincher. Rated R.

Piett: Well that's just his loss.
Herve: Yeah, that should be awesome.

Epilogue epilogue:

It was not awesome It ended David Fincher's career in 2017, and his suicide caused World War 3.

Watcher (with hole blown thru his head): VINDICATION!

Piett: Better.
Herve: Eh.

*fin*

A Date That Will Live in Infamy

[December 7th, 1941. The order is given. TORA! TORA! TORA!]

[10 minutes later, the Japanese invasion force lays strewn about the waters of Oahu Island. The American forces at Pearl Harbor cheer as the large aircraft ascends back into the skies over Hawaii and disappears into the clouds.]

****

[December 7th, 43 BC. In the yard of Roman Senator Marcus Tullius Cicero, the words are spoken. "There is nothing proper about what you are doing, soldier, but do try to kill me properly." Suddenly, a large arm extends and prepares to strike....and immediately falls limp. Howls of pain and blood smear the area. Cicero opens his eyes to find he is not dead as he'd thought only a moment before. His proported assassins lay, in pieces, around him. Behind him, a flash of light; as he turns, he sees nothing. Cicero's slaves attend to him, gladdened that their master is very much alive.]

****

[December 7th, 1869. Outside a bank, a gunman fires and makes his escape. There is a commotion as he reaches his horse, but before he can make his great escape, he is rudely interuppted by a sword piercing his heart. The sheriff and his deputies attend to the corpse and collect the stolen money, looking out around the Missouri horizon for whomever could've laid this robber, a one Jesse Woodson James, low.]

****

[December 7th, 1787. As the Delaware legislature prepares to vote on ratifcation of the United States Constitution, making them the first state to do so, Governor Thomas Collins enters the chambers with a series of explosive devices attached to his abdomen. He yells something in what sounds like Farsi and clicks a trigger device in his left hand. The building is destroyed. There are no survivors.]

****

[December 7th, 1987. Singer and actor Aaron Carter is born. A few minutes later, the hospital is consumed by a hideous gas explosion. There are no survivors.]

****

[December 7th, 2011. Actor Harry Morgan, best known from his roles on M*A*S*H and Dragnet, passes away at the age of 96. Then, roughly 4 minutes later, comes back to life. He lives another 34 years, happily and without ill health or incident.]

****

[Within the confines of the Space-Time Continuum...]

Cosmos: Did you succeed?!
Chronos: Is it done?!
Herve: Did it work?!
Piett [standing triumphantly]: It sure as hell did. [pulls out...] Madden NFL 13, motherfuckers.
Cosmos, Chronos and Herve: YEEEAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!
Piett: And only 8 months early.
Herve: It doesn't hurt to screw with time for something like this, does it?
Cosmos: Probably.
Piett: Really??
Chronos: Yeah. But who gives a shit about that crap. We'll fix it tomorrow.

*fin*

Quantum Piett Revisits the Hall of Presidents

[Magic Kingdom, Disney World. Orlando, Florida. The Hall of Presidents attraction in Liberty Square. July 24, 2011.]

Morgan Freeman: And as our journeys continue...
Herve: This is the only way to get him into these stories, isn't it?
Piett: Not really. In this story, he's been redubbed by Tom Arnold.
Herve: Aw...

Tom Arnold: And as our journeys continue, what once seemed revolutionary now seems profoundly simple. That we should choose our own leaders, that our hopes should be their hopes, our fears their fears, our dreams their dreams. Ladies and gentlemen, the Presidents of the United States.

[The crowd applauds.]

Herve: God, shut up nerds. It's just a ride about presidents.

"George Washington..."

Piett: Father of America , huh? YOUR SEED HAS DISAPPOINTED YOU GREATLY!!

"John Adams..."

Herve: 1776 The Musical was a lie. He looks *nothing* like William Daniels...

"Thomas Jefferson..."

Piett: Blacks can't carry the mail, but they can have your children?! HYPOCRITE!

"James Madison..."

Herve: Framer of the Constitution?! He had nothing to do with framing it! He wrote it! Stop taking credit from people who choose to frame their copies of the Constitution!

"James Monroe..."

[Piett throws a tomahawk at him. It misses, but the point is made.]
Piett: The Seminoles may've forgotten you, but I HAVEN'T!

"John Quincy Adams..."

Herve: We can't destroy him. God beat us to it by giving him a fatal cerebral hemorrhage after he denounced honoring Mexican-American War veterans.

"Andrew Jackson..."

Piett: If I had another tomahawk, I'd--
Herve: No.....no. Even his animatronic figure would kick your ass.
Piett: True...

"Martin Van Buren..."

Herve: Megh.
Piett: No, it's "Mergh."

"William Henry Harrison..."

Herve: How's that cough, WH?

"John Tyler..."

Piett & Herve [bow]: Your Accidency.

"James K. Polk..."

Piett: The rivers and harbors of America will never forgive you, sir!
[Herve pokes Piett in the side.]
Piett: Not that kind of poke!

"Zachary Taylor..."

Herve: Ol' Rough and Ready wasn't so rough and ready when he dropped dead.
Piett: Maybe he was.

"Millard Fillmore..."

Piett: Compromise of 1850!

"Franklin Pierce..."

Herve: Lowly yet adequate college in the middle of nowhere, New Hampshire!

"James Buchanan..."

Piett: Dred Scott, Bleeding Kansas, Panic of 1857, Covode Committee, Fort Sumter.....which one should I go with?
Herve: How about "shitdick president."
Piett: Fair enough. SHITDICK!!

"Abraham Lincoln..."

Piett & Herve: You freed the WHO?!?!

"Andrew Johnson..."

Herve: Never forget Seward's Folly! This man gave us Sarah Palin!!
[Piett inexplicably finds another tomahawk and throws it.]

"Ulysses S. Grant..."

Piett: He looks drunk.
Herve: No truth to that. What he looks is destitute.

"Rutherford B. Hayes..."

Herve: He robbed America of the Stephen J. Tilden experience! ROBBED!

"James Garfield..."

Piett: Shot to death because he was not a cat. Lame, but understandable.

"Chester A. Arthur..."

Herve: Polygamy hater!

"Grover Cleveland..."

Piett: You're not a Muppet! [stands up] YOU'RE NOT A MUPPET AT ALL!!!
[Herve pulls him back down to his seat]

"Benjamin Harrison..."

Herve: When your biggest crisis was regarding fishing and sealing rights against Canadians, you know you're not a man. Not a man at all.

"William McKinley..."

Piett: The man who gave us Guam.
Herve: Was that an insult?
Piett: We'll see...

"Theodore Roosevelt ..."

Herve: Um...Boy Scout lover!
Piett: Bully! He got shot and made a joke about it minutes later! That's a man!!

William Howard Taft..."

Piett: Ballinger Affair!

"Woodrow Wilson..."

Herve: I raise you a Ballinger Affair with World War Fucking One!
Piett: Ooh, you win.

"Warren G. Harding..."

Piett: Teapot Dome Scandal!

"Calvin Coolidge..."

Herve: Flood lover!

"Herbert Hoover..."

Piett: You fight a great depression by naming a dam after yourself?! Bah!

"Franklin D. Roosevelt..."

Herve: You can't walk?! BAH!

"Harry S. Truman..."

Piett: The buck stops where?
Herve: Get outta the kitchen!
Person sitting nearby: Will you shut up?
Herve: Finally.
[Herve leaps at him and quickly gnaws his neck to death.]

"Dwight D. Eisenhower..."

Piett: I didn't like Ike.
Herve: That mission to Mars in 2324?
Piett: Yeah. He was a real prick. So glad he was killed by John Carter.
Herve: The ER doctor, folks. Not the Warlord of Mars. Man, I can't wait 'til Walsh tells THAT story.

"John F. Kennedy..."

Herve: Ow, my, er, ah, brains!

"Lyndon B. Johnson..."

Piett: His last 2 initials were BJ. Huh huh.
Herve: And he worsened Vietnam. Not losing sight of the gimmick, kids. Don't worry.

"Richard M. Nixon..."

[Piett's pithy retort is to throw yet another tomahawk at him. Nixon catches it, then returns to non-life.]

Piett & Herve: AHHHH!!!!

"Gerald R. Ford..."

Piett: When you can't assassinate Ford...
Herve: 3! 3 people tried it!
Piett: ...you're just a big freakin' fail.

"Jimmy Carter..."

[A child next to Herve cries.]

Herve: You damn fucking right, kid.

"Ronald Reagan..."

Piett: I forget what my complaint was gonna be.
Herve: Cruel.
Piett: What? I really did.

"George Bush..."

Herve: Read my lips. No new taxes.....[whispers with a frozen face] just raising the ones that already exist.
Piett: Ah, that's how he did it.

"Bill Clinton..."

Piett: Holy shit, I think he just winked at me. Even his animatronic can't help it.

"George W. Bush..."

Herve: The crying kid woulda been even more perfect here. Hang on.... [balls up his fist and turns to his side.]

Tom Arnold: And now we come to the present. A present that is rooted in our past. For all who--

[Suddenly a gang of Republican types burst into the room. White businessmen, Neocons, FOX News executives, Klansmen, 1800's-era segregationists, 1960's-era Southern Democrats, Glenn Beck...]

Herve: What the shit is this?!
Piett: Typical. They cut off the black guy! Allons-ze!
Herve: Stop speaking French.
Piett: Let's go!
Herve: Kill!!! WOOOO!!!!!

*fin*

Quantum Piett: History's Greatest Mysteries ANSWERED. HUMOROUSLY​!

[A school bell rings. Several students, talking and being tardy and truant other school terminology, sit and stand around the classroom. A man enters the room and sits at the front. He places a briefcase on the table and attempts to get their attention. Finally, he is fed up.]

Landozzel: SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!!!

[The students turn in a combination of shock, awe, anger and hilarity. Landozzel kinda cringes as he thinks someone may shoot him. He straightens himself up as the students all grow quiet and sit.]


Landozzel: Good evening class.
Student #1: It's day time.
Landozzel: QUESTION ME AND KNOW YOUR OWN PERIL!!!
Student #2: The fuck, dude? Teachers aren't supposed to talk like this.
Landozzel: I am here to answer your questions about history. Its unsolved mysteries, its greatest unlocked truths, its..........well, shit you don't know about history.
Student #3: But this is a geometry class.

[Landozzel suddenly pulls out a ray gun and destroys the young student. Her head explodes and her lifeless corpse slumps down to the ground. The rest of the class sits unmoved. Landozzel is amazed by the movement of our culture towards complete indifference, but moves on regardless.]

Landozzel: So commence, children and young people who stayed back too long to be considered children anymore.
Janitor: I'm actually the janitor, cleaning the back of the room.
Landozzel: Well, you join in, you uneducated mass of disappointment.

[The janitor shrugs, and sits down at a desk, as hands from the students begin to rise.]

Landozzel: You, the Negro.
Student #2: Wow. You overtan a day and suddenly you're black.
Landozzel: SPEAK!
Student #2: Ok. Who really killed Martin Luther King?
Landozzel: Ah yes, that torrid story of awfulness.


¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø

[In the Space/Time Continuum. Piett walks into the den, with a DVD of RiffTrax.com short films in his hand. As he walks to the TV, he stops and stares in horror at the screen. At the TV itself, Herve is licking and kissing Whoopi Goldberg, who is on The View rambling about something. Piett slowly walks out of the room, Herve unwise to even his very presence there.]

Piett: Son of a bitch. [walks out]

¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø


Landozzel: And that's how and why Martin Luther King had to die.

[Shocked silence lingers for but a moment.]



Student #2: But wait, does that answer my question of "who?"
Student #4: Isn't it obvious? It was some white guy.
Student #2: Well duh.
Student #5: Who are Piett and Herve?

[Student #5 is blasted dead. Again, no one really cares, except for the student behind the new corpse, who wipes the brain matter and flesh off his desk.]

Landozzel: You next, young man with obvious fashion problems.
Student #1: I'm blind. [pause] Oh shit, did mom dress me badly again?

[Several students laugh.]

Landozzel: She obviously did, you no-eye-having fuck. ASK YOUR QUESTION!
Student #6: Unless it's "Why does God hate me?" Because obviou---

[Student #6 is disintegrated.]

Landozzel: WATCH YOUR SASS!!!
Student #1: Why was Abe Lincoln really killed?

¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø

John Wilkes Booth: What the......I can't see the stage. Hey buddy, take off the top hat!
Abe Lincoln: Eat my ass.
John Wilkes Booth: Why you....[takes out a gun]

¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø


Student #7: Excuse me sir, but these really aren't very good mysteries.
Landozzel: How's that now?
Student #7: Well, we really know who killed MLK. And we know the whole story of the conspiracy and scheme behind the assassin of Abraham Lincoln, which had nothing to do with the president wearing a top hat in the theatre. [pause] Although that's a pretty dick thing for him to do, if he did indeed do it.

[Landozzel takes out his gun...]

Student #7: *sigh* Fine, sir, I'll stop making sense and let this all continue.
Landozzel: Thank you, nerd.
Student #8: You seem a man of mysterious logic, sir.
Landozzel: And you seem too wise for your few years, emo girl who cuts herself.
Student #8: No, I was a failed abortion, sir.

[Landozzel shifts in his chair, uncomfortably.]

Student #8: How did the Roman Empire fall?

¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø

Roman centurion: My Emperor! I'm not certain "lighting a joint" here would do much good. Imagine the fire that could erupt if you [fires erupts] OH SHIT!!! The room is on fire! Oh Gods, I hope this doesn't spread! [fires spreads] OH SHIT AGAIN, THE FIRE *IS* SPREADING!! By Zeus, I hope this doesn't lead to burning down Rome, the discrediting of the Emperor, and, over time, somehow leading to the moral and economic crippling of the mighty Roman Empire, which spans beyond the gods' gaze!

[A vague amount of years later...an old man holds a copy of The Rome Times, reading a headline about the recent end of the Roman Empire.]

Roman centurion: OH SHIT!!! I WAS RIGHT!!! [dies, because he is old]

¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø

Student #2: Whatever happened to Amelia Earhart?

¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø

[Mars. Amelia Earhart, noted aviator thought lost and dead in 1937 over the Pacific, leads a panzer invasion of the Coliseum of Canal X, defended by the zombie grizzly bear army of Charles Lindbergh Jr, the kidnapped and dead son of American aviator Charles Lindbergh, now reborn as the android God-king of Mars.]

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Student #7 [raises hand]: Mind shooting me with that gun, sir?
Landozzel: I was hoping you'd eventually beg for it.

[Landozzel shoots and destroys the nerd, who had clearly given up on life in his finalest of moments.]

Student #4: Why does George Lucas keep changing the STAR WARS movies over and over and over and over and over again?

¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø

George Lucas: BECAUSE I CAN CAN CAN!!!! [goes into ridiculous Moulin Rougesque dance number, along with Luke, Leia, Chewbacca, Darth Vader, Lobot, General Veers, Mon Mothma, Prune Face, Thrawn, Commander Cody, Kit Fisto, EV9D9, 8D8 and many more of his hapless ficional minions.]

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Student #8: Who *is* buried in Grant's Tomb?

¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø

Zombie Ulysses S. Grant: Millard Fillmore. [shrugs] Go figure. [resumes feasting on a bus of dead nuns and orphans somewhere in Oregon]

¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø

Janitor: How, when and why did Al Pacino become a parody of himself?

¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø

[Al Pacino, on the set of Scarface.]

Al Pacino: It was really cocaine, chinos! HOO-AH!!!

¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø

Student #2: That was a horrible waste of a question.
Student #4: But at the same time, it's the most sensible answer so far.
Student #1: ....ok, I'll punch. Why *does* God hate me?


¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø

God: Because you touch yourself at night.

¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø

Student #1: Shit. I thought that was my girlfriend I was touching.

[Landozzel shoots him.]

Student #4: Ha! He never saw it coming.

[Landozzel shoots him too.]

Student #2: This is getting very violent. And you really haven't tackled the main subject at hand outside of a few silly--

[Landozzel shoots him too. All that remains is the semi-aborted emo girl and the janitor.]

Student #8: ......I think I've been through enough for one lifetime. I'll just be leaving and never mentioning any of this ever again. Okay?
Landozzel: Fair enough. It'd be unfair to kill *all* of you.

[Student #8 leaves. But as she reaches the door a ray beam strikes her back and she evaporates into nothingness.]

Landozzel: But then when are villains *ever* fair? Heh.

[Landozzel keeps his gun out.....and slowly trains it toward the janitor. There is a moment of silence.]

Janitor: Well, here we are.

Landozzel: Yes. Here we are.

[The janitor stands up, and walks calmly toward the windows.]

Janitor: I didn't think you'd ever find me, Landozzel. Who knews the most dastardly villain I've ever known would be used as a messenger for the Council, and track me across dimensions to a simple high school in.....wherever the hell this is.
Landozzel: The Council doesn't look kindly on--what the?

[Suddenly a portal opens, and Herve and Piett emerge. They are......well, puzzled, to say the least.]

Piett: What the hell is this?
Landozzel: What is what?
Janitor: Who the fuck are these assEEAAGNRHHHHGHHHH!!!!!

[Herve shuts the janitor up by tearing this throat asunder.]

Piett: What is this? Is this your own subplot?
Landozzel: .............well, yes.
Piett: And who authorized that?
Landozzel: I would assume Walsh did, as he's currently writing it.

¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø

A Garmin GPS device: Turn left. Keep left. Turn left.

¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø

Herve: Clearly it is not Walsh, as it's instead a Garmin GPS device writing this very silly tale. [pause] Huh. That makes no sense. [pause] WHO CARES!
Piett: Continuity is by the wayside these days, Landozzel. You're dead or something and thus you'll not be engaging any foolish subplots with solving unsolved mysteries and any shenanigans with a mysterious "Council"...
Herve: I'm curious about it though.
Piett: No you're not.
Herve: Okay. [looks around] You know, on the other hand, the killing kids part of this story was kinda bold.
Piett: Yeah. I'll give you that part at least.
Landozzel: I don't understand any of this shit. Why I never retired myself years ago is beyond me.

[Piett and Herve portal themselves out of this story, while Landozzel wanders out of the classrom and turns left out into the corridor.....turn left.......turn left......turn left.......turn left......]

*fin*

Quantum Piett and the Hall of Presidents

[The year: 1994. Herve and Piett arrive....somewhere.]

Herve: Are we here? Are we in time?!
Piett: I dunno! I sure as hell hope so!
Herve: Which way?!
Piett: Presumably where all the noise is coming from! Are you sure--
Herve: Shit, all the noise?! Then we're...oh NO!!!

[Herve and Piett run to a door, and open it. Before them.....well, a great distance before them, they see the 2 figure embracing on stage. The crowd of fans and industry bigwigs stands and cheers, as the TV cameras zoom in to capture this momentous occasion: Michael Jackson and . Herve and Piett, standing in a doorway at the far end of the 1994 MTV Video Music Awards auditorium, stand in disappointment and relative disgust.]

Herve [mockingly]: "Too late...."
Piett: Arghhhh.....uggggh.....guhhhhuhuhuhuhh.....*shudders and makes gagging gross noises to denote how much the kiss freaks him out*

*******

[Elsewhere/when/how, aboard the Executor II, a phone rings. As the ship passes through the vast unknown bounds of the multiverse, a woman picks the receiver up and sits in her lounge chair, gazing out onto the passing stars and cosmos.]

Lucy Ferr: Que?
Piett [on the other end, obviously]: Oh, I'm sorry, I must have the wrong number.
[He hangs up.]

[Some moments pass. Lucy sits in her chair, slightly aghast at what's happened.]

[The phone rings again. She picks up again.]

Piett: ........I thought you were Spanish, dear. Sorry.
Lucy: Que?
Piett: Oh shit, did I call a number in a reality where I married a Mexican? Gross.
Lucy: You putz, I'm fucking with you!!
Piett: Naturally. I knew that all along.
Lucy: Somehow, I seriously doubt that.
Piett: Wha? I couldn't hear you.
Lucy: I said *mwah*!
Piett: Riiiiiight.
Lucy: So did you get there in time?
Piett: We did not.
Lucy: Aren't you time travelers? Isn't this kind of thing, um, fixable? Redoable?
Piett: To be honest......yes, but we're intigued by the backup plan too much to do a retry.
Lucy: Are you serious?
Piett: I totally am.
Lucy: It's an insidious plan, and I don't think our marriage can survive it?
Piett: Shit, really??
Lucy: No, but thanks for the concern. So, plan B then?
Piett: I thought he called it plan N?
Lucy: Oh yeah, he's a clever one. Hold on. [calls out] Hey brainiac! Phone!

[Lucy holds out the phone and extends it to someone standing nearby. He walks over casually and takes the phone.]

Elvis Presley: Hey baby.
Piett: I told you to stop saying that.
Herve [in the background]: Did he call you "baby" again?
Piett: He did. It's really creepy. And sexy. And then more creepy.
Herve: He doesn't call *me* "baby." I wonder why...
Piett: Maybe because you remind him of a real baby. Because you're a midget. Small. Not tall. At all. Heh, that rhymes.
Herve: Fuck you, ass!
Elvis: Are you lovebirds done yet?
Lucy [imagines just....just awful things]: EWW...
Piett: We're done. Go ahead, Elvis, tell us about Plan B.
Elvis: Plan N, baby.
Herve [in the background, shuddering]: Holy hell, it's like I can *feel* him saying "baby" every time!
Elvis: The backup plan is....a risk. One that I can't even guarantee But if it's done right, it will ensure the safety of rock and roll....and all of life as we know it.
Piett: Risks are nothing new to us. It's one we're willing to take, baby.
Elvis: Don't call me "baby", it's creepy.
Piett: The hell!
Elvis: I also have to tell you.....it's kinda dark.
Piett: Those are the best kinds of risks, man.
Elvis: Like, possibly Satanic dark.
Piett: Not a problem. I bang the devil's sister regularly.

[Elvis makes one of those faces that looks like the O_o emoticon as he stares at Lucy, who waves and also thinks Elvis is having a strokes because...let's face it, that emoticon looks like someone's having a stroke. He returns to the phone conversation.]

Elvis: And it involves Disney World.
Piett: What?
Lucy: What?
Herve [in the background]: What? [pause] I have no idea what I'm reacting to!
Piett: Disney World? Oh, oh no.
Elvis: Why not? It's the most magical plac--
Piett: It is not, and some being worse than Satan is responsible for that lie!
Lucy: We were just at, like, all the Star Wars weekends. And we are just totally Star Wars'ed out for at least another year.
Piett: And Disney'd out. I swear, if I ever see another Dwarf or Toy Story character or foreigner who reminds me of the World Showcase, I'll murder them.
Herve: I'm a dwarf! You haven't killed me.
Piett: It would not entertain me to kill you. Yet.
Herve: Yikes.
Piett: Plus I had this whole time travel fight against Walt Disney himself at some point in the timeline of my adventures, and it was very disconcerting. There's no way I'm going back to Disney World.
Elvis: You don't have to do much, man.
Piett: Christ no. Looks like I'll have to go back in time and just get to the MTV Awards earlier then.
Elvis: The Hall of Presidents is barely even Disney.
Piett: WHAT?!
Lucy: WHAT?!
Herve [sitting at computer, still way off in the background]: WHAT?! [pause] It actually cost $350 million to make and market GREEN LANTERN, Box Office Mojo.com?!?! That's sick! SICK!!!
Piett: Elvis! Did you say The Hall of Presidents?!?
Elvis [nervous]: I.....I did, baby.
Piett: Hot shit!!! WE'RE GOIN' TO THE HALL OF PRESIDENTS!!!

[Lucy jumps up and down in glee. Herve continues to bitch and moan about movies costing too much and underperforming at the box office, and also about how despite these vast amounts of money it's still considered a flop. And Piett starts to book a trip to Disney World until he realizes he can travel through time and thus doesn't have to do that normal kind of shit. All the while Elvis, in a case of really not getting it (much like you, probably, loyal reader) shakes his head, wondering if fighting off death all these years was even worth the effort.]

*******

[Liberty Square, Disney World. Piett, Herve and Lucy emerge from a portal directly underneath the Liberty Tree, and walk right into the building. Because no one else cares about the Hall of Presidents, no one notices a time portal and 3 people appearing out of nowhere, and thus there is no ruckus, hubbub, fracas or hullabaloo about it.]

Herve: Eck, this narration is depressing. Remind me again why no one cares about the Hall of Presidents.
Piett: Because Americans these days care nothing for history, whether it be their own or the history of others. How I long for an America that recognizes and worships its own greatness, historical and otherwise.
Herve: But you do.
Piett: Dude.....of course. It's the Hall of Presidents.
Herve: And you do too?
Lucy: We banged here really well once. [pause] Oh, and all the history junk is cool too. But I mostly remember the banging.
Herve: Wow. I do not get it.
Lucy: You will, Herve. You will...

[Long pause]

Herve: Wait, are you gonna bang me?
Lucy: NO!
Herve: Drat, foiled again...

[Some minutes later they enter the main auditorium of the Hall of Presidents attraction. There is pretty much no one in there at all, save one person sitting across the room, possibly sleeping.]

Herve: They have an attraction featuring audio-animatronic figures of every single American president, rambling about American ideals and honor, to an audience of 1 freakin' person. [pause] Tell me again how Disney's resisted the urge to tear this place down and build some annoying Pixar movie attaction atop its ruins?
Lucy: Actually, I always wondered how they haven't destroyed the legacy of this place with a live action movie yet.
Piett: Because even Disney understands that Nicolas Cage did enough damage with The Sorcerer's Apprentice.
Herve: And National Treasure 2.
Piett: That wasn't a Disney attraction movie. And it was based on nothing. [looks skyward] Except the truth.
Herve: So what now?
Lucy: Well, to conjure the souls will take a sacrifice.

[Herve looks pitifully at the 1 single person sitting in the seats. He gulps, and feels bad for that poor bastard. Piett's eyes meet where Herve's are locked.]
Piett: Oh good, he IS stil here. [yells out] DISCOMBOBULATOR!

[The person in the seats turns his head slowly. It is an extra moment or two before he lets out a response.]

Discombobulator: FINALLY. You're freeing me from this hell at last!
Herve: Who the shitfuck is that?
Piett: That's the Discombobulator. Remember?
Herve: I do not remember this.
Piett: Oh yeah, you weren't part of that adventure. Or it didn't happen yet. [pause] The timeline's gone to heck since Walsh stopped keeping track of it.

[Piett and Lucy walk down the long empty row of seats to meet the Discombobulator. Herve is confusedly in tow. Is confusedly even a word? Hell if I know.]

Discombobulator: Thank Roosevelt, you've finally come.
Piett: Calm down, Discombobulator. We're not here to free you.
Discombobulator: WHAT?! But...but you said you'd return to let me go! When you imprisoned me here for "all eternity" after the Battle of Camp Crystal Lake - which, honestly, is a fate worse than death because I'm an undereducated American disinterested in anything to do with American history - you said that only your return to this place would mean my freedom. And here you are! To free me! That was your promise!!
Lucy: Well, we are here to free you. Just not the way you think.

[The Discombobulator is silent for a moment. Then he surmises the meaning of that statement, and he also makes the O_o emoticon face.]

*******

[Moments later, the Discombobulator is strapped and lashed to a giant slab of granite, in front of the empty seats and before the Presidents stage. The Discombobulator cries and screams in horror, as Lucy prepares this evil ritual and cleans & sharpens a whoppin' huge sabre. Presumably to stab the guy with.]

Piett: However did we find this giant slab of granite again?
Lucy: Less questions, honey, and more unholy murmuring.
Herve: Uh....that gulp from earlier? I didn't think its foreshadowed meaning would be realized this quick.
Piett: What?
Herve: Nothing.
Lucy: Ok, so this is how it goes. You 2 murmur these Satanic chants, while I sharpen the blade and gut him. Then he shrieks the names of the soul that must be bonded with their mortal forms, and Plan N can begin from there.
Herve: Guys, this is.....new.
Piett: How so?
Herve: Well, um, murdering someone and sacrificing their blood to Satan? I didn't think this was part of the character profiles.
Lucy: It's perfectly in character, hon. If anything, I'm being used properly for once.
Piett: Dude, we're killing a man called The Discombobulator. He killed children and ate their body parts. Then made love to old women while wearing their entrails, and then crushed their skulls with a mallet. Also something about cleansing the world of the black man and the Jew, or black Jews or....well, I was too lost in the blood rage by that point to listen clearly to everything he was babbling.
Herve: Holy shit.
Piett: Trust me, it was all just wrong, man. He totally deserves this.
Herve: Is it wrong that I wanna see this adventure now?!
Lucy: The significance of Plan N's success relies on this ceremony. If we don't save rock and roll....and all of life as we know it, then the world will be destroyed, and what we're about to do here will pale in comparison to the suffering of all mankind.
Piett: And rock and roll.
Lucy: Yeah.
Herve: Enough with the rambling and let's get to killing this asshole already!
Piett: You've done a turnaround, all of a sudden.
Herve: It's the blood rage, I tells ya!
Piett: Actually, I wasn't consumed. I just wasn't listening to him and thinking of banging Lucy the whole time.
Lucy: Which is what we did after we came and imprisoned him here. Best sex ever. [looks at the reader(s)] See, it's ALL connected!!

[Without much more haste, Lucy lifts the giant sabre over her head, and as Piett and Herve murmur various devilish murmurings, Lucy runs the sabre clear through the Discombobulator and into the giant slab of granite beneath him. The poor imprisoned child-eater and old-lady-fucker screams; and as he does, he says the name of the soul which Plan N was created to free and return to mortal life.]

Discombobulator: RICHARD MILHOUS NIXONNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!

[As the Discombobulator departs from this mortal coil, the soul of one who already had returns once more, emerging from the sabre-created wound and slithering thru the air across the view of all present. It finally reaches its target and enters it. Several flashes of light later, one of the animatronic figures begins to move, against its basic programming, and literally comes to life.]

Richard Nixon: Jesus, Henry, that hurts! [pauses] Wait, what.....where am I? [looks at Piett and Co.] Who are y.....why the FUCK can't I move properly?!
Piett: I'm Firmus Piett, and this is Lucy Ferr and Herve Villechaize. You're an animatronic figure, Nixon. Welcome back.
Nixon: Son of a bitch, this is awkward. What is all....wait, what is that?
[Nixon eyes the Satanic awkwardness behind Piett and the others.]
Nixon: Mother fucker, I'm back.
Herve: Holy crap, it's Nixon. Elvis wasn't lying, this Plan N of his really was gonna bring Nixon back!
Lucy: That was the point of Plan N - bring Nixon back to defeat the threat of Michael Jackson. [pause] That sounds so lame all of a sudden. Huh.
Piett: But not just Nixon.
Nixon: Oh, that's right. The others.

[Nixon turns around and eyes the remaining 43 US Presidents standing on the stage with him. One by one, he spots certain individuals, and yells their names.]

Nixon: ABRAHAM LINCOLN!!!

[Suddenly, the animatronic body of Abe Lincoln cracks from its limited robotic position and comes to life. Immediately he grabs the back of his head.]

Lincoln: ....eeeEEEEAARGHHHHH!!!!! Fucking South shot me in the head!!!! [pause] Wait, wha......Nixon?!?
Herve [aside to Piett]: Dude, Lincoln knows who Nixon is.
Piett: Duh. They were both in Hell together.

[Herve stares at Piett with a O_o look on his face.]

Piett: Fuck me, Walsh really *has* to stop using that emoticon. It does NOT translate to the human face well at all.
Nixon: FRANKLIN PIERCE!!!

[Franklin Pierce, 14th President of the United States, emerges from an eternal slumber and comes to life.]

Franklin Pierce: Oh dear, oh dear!
Lucy: Franklin Pierce sounds just like C3P0.
Piett: I guess it works, then, that he's an awkwardly moving animatronic and will move around like 3P0 too. This could be amusing outside this one scene.
Herve: Or not.
Piett: Or not, yeah.
Nixon: RUTHERFORD BIRCHARD HAYES!!!

[The long-bearded 19th President also arises from the depths of death.]

Piett: Hayes? He was part of the plan?
Nixon: Not really. But the guy never did anything significant in life, I figured he could use a career highlight.
Rutherford B. Hayes: But I oversaw the end of Reconstruction and made the first serious attempts to get the South to accept civil rights laws!
Herve: No one knows that shit anymore! People hate American history!
Nixon: And......ugh. No. I can't do it.
Piett: What?

[Piett sees the direction, and the figure, that Nixon is looking at.]

Piett: Nixon, you have to.
Nixon: I can't. He's the one person I......no, even when......dammit, I WON'T!
Piett: You MUST! The plan MUST be implimented! His presidency ended by the tragedy of FATE! He was the greatest of his time, DAMNED by the era he lived in! In another time, another place, he would've been heralded the greatest of ALL! Do it, Nixon! CALL FORTH his name! Bring him back to US! NOW!
Lincoln: Wow. Fuck you too.

[Herve turns to Lucy.]

Herve: Ok, is he looking at George W. Bush? It looks like he is from here.
Lucy: No, he is definitely not.
Herve: Oh thank God. Because all that stuff he said kinda applies to Bush, in a sick twisted Fox Newsie way. Plus Bush is still alive and well, so that'd make no sense.
Nixon: FUCK!

[Suddenly the animatronic body of James K. Polk comes to life beside Lucy Ferr. He stops and looks at a confused lot of people looking right back at him.]

James K. Polk: .....he didn't say "Polk", did he?
Lucy: He did not.
James K. Polk: Ah. Ok. [returns to lifelessness]
Lucy: How randomly cute was that?
Nixon: Alright, fine. Fine.

[Nixon rubs his eyes, in a clumsy animatronic way, and then begrudgingly call out the name.]

Nixon: JOHN FITZGERALD KENNEDY!!!

[Kennedy, to the delight of Democrat Massholes everywhere, comes back to life.]

JFK: And so my fellow Americans! Ask NOT what your country can do for you.....ask what you can do for your country!

[Herve looks at the Barack Obama animatronic figure and wants to say something, but chooses instead not to make any politically satirical comment, given the ridiculousness going on around him.]

JFK: Ich bin e.....oh, hello, Nixon.
Nixon: Hello, Kennedy.
Piett: Well, this is touching. Now if you don't mind let's get going. You can make out and do any extra plot exposition on the ride. We've got work to do! ALLONS-Y!!!

[Piett hits his belt buckle time device and leaps heroically into a portal. No one follows. Some moments pass before he re-emerges from the portal.]

Piett: That's French, for "Let's go!"

[Pause. No one is impressed. Pause.]

Piett: .......I'm sorry I spoke French.

[Everyone in the Hall of Presidents (in a position to say anything) accepts his begrudging apology in various manners, and file into the portal along with him.]

Herve: Well, it's good to know *that* particular hatred is eternal...

*******

[Seconds later, as Piett, Nixon and others have disappeared, James K. Polk comes back to life anyway. He looks around cautiously, then excitedly (with animatronic movements) moves around the stage, almost unable to control himself.]

James K. Polk: Oh goodness, oh man.....uh.....HEY EVERYBODY!!!

[He yells out, and although he did not specify anyone by name, all the remaining presidential figures come to life.]

James K. Polk: It's happened! There's FINALLY no one in here!

George Washington: By Jove! It has happened!

Andrew Jackson: We can finally do it!

Ulysses S. Grant: Nary a soul in sight to witness it!

Millard Fillmore: Pointless yet on-topic Millard Fillmore cameo!

Barack Obama: Now all 57 of us can celebrate!

[George W. Bush smacks him in the back of the head.]

George W. Bush: Dummy. [pause] There's 82 of us.

[Ignoring Bush (as we all should, really), the presidents eagerly move around the stage, all line up.........and engage in a Rockettes-like dance, arms on each other's shoulders, singing along to the chorus lines of "New York New York" and kicking as high as they can into the air.]

[This goes on for longer than anyone should admit to.]

*******

[Some time afterwards, the group of heroes emerge onstage at the 1994 MTV Music Awards, just as Michael Jackson and Lisa Marie Presley have walked out. Before they can suck face, Nixon leaps forwards and socks them both in the mouth. Rutherford B. Hayes scissor-kicks Michael Jackson, while Abe Lincoln bodyslams Lisa Marie onto the stage. Franklin Pierce belches radioactive fire at several approaching security guards, who melt away in a scene of hideous horror, while Piett, Lucy and Herve look on in amazement.]

Piett: This is a VIOLENT plan.
Herve: You knew that going in, dude.
Piett: Yeah, but this is.......this is rough.
Herve: We just performed a Satanic ritual in order to bring these people back to animatronic life, in order to save all mankind.
Piett: And rock and roll.
Herve: Why do you guys keep doing that?!
Lucy: Elvis kept making that distinction. It sounded important.
Herve: He's from Tennessee! He's too dumb to know what's important and what's not! [looks at the action] Oh look, and now Rutherford B. Hayes is asphyxiating Lisa Marie Presley to death. Lincoln seems grossed out by it, Franklin Pierce is....pulling Michael Jackson's face off, ouch. And where'd Kennedy go??
Piett: Wow, Hayes is not stopping.......he's REALLY not....and now she's dead. [long pause] Wait a minute, Lisa Marie Presley is dead. Was she supposed to die in this plan?
Lucy: No, just captured. Michael Jackson was the one who was supposed to....oh shit.
Piett: What?

[Lucy points at Nixon, who has somehow been fending off the audience the whole time. He is beginning to glow, and those still fighting him stumble back blinded. One bright flash later, Nixon is standing with his arms extended and laughing. Gone are his animatronic features, as apparently.....Richard Nixon is back to his regular human self.]

Piett: Nixon?? What--

Nixon: Haha, you fucking fuckers! This whole plan was just an evil scheme the whole time to bring me back to life!
Herve: What dummies we are!

[Piett and Lucy look at him.]

Herve: Well, we are. Satanic rituals can only result on this kind of malarky. [raises hands] Praise Jebus!

[Piett slaps him.]

Piett: That felt good.
Lucy: While you slapped Herve, Nixon got away.
Piett: Got away?

[Lucy points to Nixon, running down one of the aisles through confused and panicked crowds of music stars and industry big-wigs.]

Piett: This is all just very confusing, and possibly the signs of a very rushed ending.
Lucy: Or at least a mad panic to the climax.
Herve: Oh, Piett should be used to that one at le--

[Piett slaps him again.]

Lucy: That is insanely hot.
Piett: What? Me being all manly with the hitting, or the fact that I smacking a midget around.

[Pause]

Lucy [wide-eyed]: I don't know.
Herve: Ha!

*******

[17 years later, back at the very nice palace of the Space/Time Continuum. Piett is sitting at a computer, as Herve walks by.]

Herve: Hey, FUTURAMA's season premiere is about to start. We'll miss it if you're just gonna sit there and [chuckles] wait, we're time travellers. We'll just go back and watch it from the beginning. [pause] Jesus, dude, are you even listening to me?
Piett: Holy shit, Herv. Look at this.

[Herve walks over to the computer.]

Herve: Ah, Sudden Plot Exposition dot com....
Piett: Just hang in and listen. [reading from the website]: "On December 21, 1970, in what would be become an infamous meeting, President Richard Nixon met Elvis Presley in the Oval Office. As revealed during the 1996 presidential elections by Carl Woodward and Bernstein, it was on that date that Nixon and Elvis made a pact with dark lord Zendo, whom Elvis had been a worshipper of since 1957. Upon Nixon's death, Elvis would sacrifice his daughter Lisa Marie to bring Nixon back to life. Nixon died on April 22, 1994. Mere weeks later, with the assistance of several unknown minions masquerading as American presidents, Lisa Marie Presley was murdered before a live television audience the MTV awards were on June 4. Upon the stage, Richard Nixon returned to life, and began his plot to reclaim the presidency in the next election cycle and take over the world. However, Nixon was stupid and did all this in front of said live television audience. Also, despite winning the Republican nomination overwhelmingly in 1996 after the mysterious and gruesome asphixiation death of then-frontrunner Bob Dole, there was no constitutional way he could legally become president. In the 1996 Presidential elections, he was promptly defeated in a landslide victory.......by a similarly resurrected John F. Kennedy!

[Pause]

Herve: Fuck, we're totally edited out of the real events!
Piett: DUDE. Hang in there. "Upon his inauguration, a new age of America began. Jobs were created across America in scales that eclipsed the positives of FDR's New Deal, unemployment fell to a staggering 0.02%, ingenuity and progress in numerous fields bound into orbit, and the economy propelled the country to beyond superpower levels that no other nation - including the old Soviet Union, the bankrupted oil nations of the Middle East, and even the former supwerpower government of China, rendered insolvent and split into smaller territories in 2002 - have since been able to approach. Former dictators disappeared into the midsts, climaxed by the public suicide of Fidel Castro and the sinking of Cuba into the seas. Attempted hostilities by terrorist factions in Pakistan and Iran were trounced within days and their leaderships executed by the freedom-starved people of those lands, and in 2009 Europe pledged its allegence to America and likewise saw an incredible uptick in prosperiety and peace. In May 2011, a shrine to American greatness was opened in central Florida, headlined by a speech from President Kennedy." [reads silently, eyes gape open] HOLY SHIT!!!!!!!!!

[Piett jumps up and runs out of the room.]

Herve: What? You didn't finished reading. [reads the rest of the article] Oh. Fuck me sideways.

*******

[Minutes later. Central Florida, the shrine to American greatness. Piett and Lucy sit in the audience, happy and gleeful. Herve sits behind them, with a scowl on his face and his arms crossed, not impressed at all.]

The Rockettes-like line of American Presidents: YA-DA-DADADA! YA-DA-DADADA! YA-DA-DADADA! YA-DA-DADADA!
Herve [disgusted]: The fucking shrine to fucking American greatness is the Fucking Hall of Presidents.
Piett and Lucy: THIS IS THE GREATEST THING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED!!!!!
Herve: Ugh. [pause] And why are they in a Rockettes line, and dancing? How does this display American greatness? [pause] Seriously, if this doesn't improve greatly in the next few seconds I will blow this place up and rape everyone in this audience with a baseball b--

[Suddenly, an animatronic John Wilkes Booth emerges from behind the line of presidents and shoots Lincoln in the head. The other animatronic presidents all gather and stand around Lincoln, as Booth yells something in Latin, breaks his leg falling off the stage and hobbles away. The audience, though, cheers. Herve makes a seriously unhealthy O_o face.........then stands up in his seat.]

Herve: AND I AM CONVERTED!!!!

Narrator: And thus ends the tale of how The Hall of Presidents became the greatest Disney attraction, like.....EVER...

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Epilogue 1..........January 1997...

[In a small deli somewhere in Orange County, California, a man enters and takes a seat at the counter. He picks up a menu and reads, but soon finds himself distracted - like everyone else - by the events transpiring on a TV above them in the corner. It is the Presidential inauguration of Animatronic John F. Kennedy. Elvis groans ever so slightly and leans back. A man sits besides him, disgruntled and ignoring the television. It is clear by his appearance that he is trying to hide his appearance.]

Elvis: So apparently killing Michael Jackson so sadistically in front of a worldwide audience wasn't a good way to convince people you're presidential material.
Nixon: Yeah, apparently it wasn't!
Elvis: We shoulda waited until he was diddling kids.
Nixon [sips his coffee, then spits it out]: Wait, what?!
Elvis: Yeah, apparently he does that in a few years - or at least, he would've appeared to vengeful white people to have done it in a few years.
Nixon: Well, let's just go jump ahead in time and do it right!
Elvis: No can do. Those time travelin' babies were pissed that I lied to them so aggregiously, so they high tailed it and left me stranded in 1996. Ramblin' about "comuppance" or something. So we're stuck here, baby.

[Pause]

Nixon: I hope you still die on a toilet.
Elvis: Jesus, baby. You are a mean son of a bitch. Auh-huh.

[Nixon sips some more of his coffee, and his eyes catch the location of the restroom. He looks at Elvis, then back at the restroom. He smirks.]

[Note to reader: when Nixon smirks, no good can come from it.]

[Suddenly he grabs Elvis by the hair and pulls him off the counter stool.]

Elvis: The hell, baby?!? AHHH!!! [spots a waitress, talking to other members of the deli staff] Ma'am! Somebody!! HELP!!!
Waitress: Shut up, Andy Kaufman, no one believes you and your shit, you liar.
Cook: I knew you were still alive, asshole!
Elvis: Andy Kaufman?! What?!?
Nixon: Oh yeah, I told them Andy Kaufman was coming to meet me here. So they think you're Andy Kaufman, which means no one will believe you. Ever. Welcome to Yorba Linda -- Nixon country, asshole. Meet one of our any toilet bowls. Face first.
Elvis: AAUUUGHHHAARRGHHHHHHHGGGGHHHH!!!!!!

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Epilogue 2..........Harlem, present day...

[In a darkened Harlem alley, a police investigation scene surrounds the lifeless body of Nicolas Cage. He is bloodied, his eyes have been gouged out of his head, and he has apparently been violently raped to death with a baseball bat, which is still shoved halfway up his ass.]

[There, Disney. Now he can't destroy any more of your movie franchise properties. You're welcome.]


*fin*