Literary Disasterpiece

Herve: What's going on here? [pause] Is that Nathaniel Hawthorne? Watching Easy A, the modern cinematic retelling of The Scarlet Letter?
Piett: How did you know.......ANY of that?
Herve: Walsh was very blunt with the title.
Piett: Ah. Apologies. I've been too.....entranced by what's happening here.
Herve: What, exactly, has been happening here?
Piett: Well, he's mainly been swearing a lot and yelling at the TV screen. Dropping f bombs with the greatest of ease.
Herve: Would part of it be that he's amazed and horrified at the sight of moving pictures.
Piett: No, he's pretty accepting of that. He's just trashing this movie. Also, he's very upset that Stanley Tucci degraded himself by being in this film.
Herve: How the shit does Nathaniel Hawthorne know who Stanley Tucci is?
Piett: I've been attempting to grasp that one. As of yet, I have a vague shrug of the shoulders and disturbed look on my face as the only reply.
Herve: Is there a reason he's sitting in our lounge watching this?
Piett: Not really. The visual just came to me in a dream one night and I had to make it a reality. [pause] I now regret that, because there really isn't much beyond the visual now, is there?

[Herve thinks for a moment.]

Herve: I see flashes of possible literary brilliance and probable literary stupidity.
Piett: Like that time we smoked crack with Lewis Carroll?
Herve: Dude, it was free crack. Shut up.
Piett: Or that time you kidnapped and starved Suzanne Collins because you didn't really understand the premise of "The Hunger Games"...
Herve: ...and then later realized I'd kidnapped and starved Joan Collins, who is....was....someone else entirely? Again with the shut up.
Piett: Or that time we snuck the Creature from the Black Lagoon into Walden Pond to blow Emerson's mind? Or we made Stephen King write a story not about Maine? Or we killed Edgar Allen Poe? Or the time you had a robot kill Martin Van Buren when you thought it was Isaac Asimov?

[Pause]

Herve: It's about on par with all those things.
Piett: So not worth it?
Herve: Nope.
Piett: Good. [aims ray gun at Nathaniel Hawthorne] Piss off, Hawthorne.
Nathaniel Hawthorne: Whaa-nGAHHHH!! [incincerated, dies]

Herve: I feel like we just deliberately skipped an adventure......not to mention murdering an American insititution.
Piett: Probably all for the best.

*fin*

SAW The Animated Series, or "Wocka Wockapocalypse!"

[Space/Time Continuum. Rec room. Typical Quantum Piett opening. Herve and Piett are watching the 1970's cartoon Return to the Planet of the Apes. They are, quite frankly, dumbfounded.]

Herve: This is a reboot, right?
Piett: I have no idea.
Herve: They're riding in cars and live in a modern city with electricity and television, and their reporters wear old timey press tags in their hats.
Piett: This might be an acid trip.
Herve: Us, or them?!
Piett: Both, probably. We did do acid earlier.
Herve: But even this is a bit much for an acid trip!
Piett: Should we investigate?
Herve: You mean go to the Planet of the Apes and see if this shit happened like this?! I'm too afraid!
Piett: But it's a cartoon. An old one, so everything will be simple and moreorless safe for us.
Herve: I don't even understand how we travel to cartoon worlds. They're drawings of varying quality with voice over actors. We're real people. I don't want another Roger Rabbit experience.
Piett: That wasn't so bad.
Herve: Or worse, a Cool World experience.
Piett: I'd mentally blocked that one. Thanks, asshole.
Herve: Deal with it.
Piett: Ditto.
Herve: Well said.
Piett: Let's go!

[Piett activates a portal. He leaps in. Herve, confused and scared, grabs a pile of drugs from the end table, digests them and jumps in too.]

¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø

[Herve wakes up, some time later, on a cold tiled floor. He can barely see in this very dark room. He senses someone near him. Judging by the scent of Old Spice, he figures it's Piett.]

Herve: Is that you and your Old Spicey musk, Piett.
Piett: It is.
Herve: Are we in a cartoon?
Piett: I don't know. We look--

[Piett looks at his hands. They are very much animated, in the traditional line-drawing way. Herve laughs, nervously, and looks at his. But they, it turns out, are very much animated in the Pixar/cheap knock-off Dreamworks way. He swears something awful about his grandmother.]

Herve: The shit!! I can't even be *real* animated?!
Piett: It's not that bad. [pause] Wait, how could you smell my cologne if we're cartoons?
Herve: Ok, first off it's not cologne...it's very overwhelming underarm deodorant. And B.......I don't know.
Piett: Cartoons smell. Who knew.
Herve: You know, you don't seem very animated.
Piett: What you are is not animated, Mr. CGI.
Herve: Ouch. Lighten up. We're cartoons. I don't think we've ever done that before.
Piett: Maybe. But I barely remember the old days. [pause, shrugs] Probably for the best.
Herve: Yeah.

[Pause]

Herve: Oh god, we didn't land in the Return to the Planet of the Apes cartoon, did we?

[Piett looks around. As their eyes adjust to the darkness they can make out their surroundings much better. They are quite shocked at what they see.]

Piett: Oh. We SO did not.

[Indeed, their surroundings are most familiar - they're in the underground bathroom from......]

Herve: Wait, they made a cartoon about SAW?!?
Piett: Apparently...yes?
Herve: You said cartoons would be safe and simple! This is very much the exact opposite of all that!!
Piett: I was certain must've taken a wrong turn at Albuquerque.
Herve: You m-- [long pause] Cute.
Piett: Actually this doesn't look like a cartoon. Or maybe like a incredibly realistic cartoon that looks like real life.
Herve [points in horror]: LOOK!!!!

[They see a body lying in the blood. Immediately, they beat the shit out of it. This goes on for several minutes. The puddle of blood only gets bigger as the savage attack goes on. 24.3 minutes later, they stop and collapse to the ground.]

Herve: I feel we've gone a good thing here.
Piett; Dude, that's not Saw.
Herve: Makeup, dude. Didn't you see the movie.
Piett: No, this isn't Saw. [picks up Saw's head, detached from the body] See? Not Saw.
Herve: That's......who the hell is that??

[A neckerchief falls from the bloody and torn neck. Suddenly they hear sobbing from another part of the room. A part that was not focused on much in SAW, it seems.]

Voice: That was Fred!!
Piett: Who are you? What's going on??
Voice: It's ok, Daph, it's ok....
Voice: Like......like, dude....
Herve: Oh fuck me no. No. No. Please don't--

[Someone comes out of the darkness. To Herve's shame, it is indeed.....Shaggy from Scooby-Doo.]

Herve: Nooooooooo.
Piett: We're in the Saw bathroom with the cast of Scooby Doo. [pause] Wow, I had a dream about that once. Who the shit knew it'd actually come true?
Shaggy: Like, dude.....you killed Fred, man.
Herve: To be fair, he was face down in a puddle of his own blood. Or someone's blood.
Piett: And we've see SAW. That was Saw the whole time in the movie. [pause] Spoiler, sorry.
Herve: I don't think they care. Their friend is very dead and his widow is mourning.
Velma: She's not his widow. They weren't even dating.
Daphne: What....[sobs].....what are you talking about, Velma? I loved him.
Velma: That's just post-traumatic shock, Daph. He was gay.
Shaggy: Like....what, man?
Daphne: What??
Velma: The neckerchief, the constant weirdness when you two talked.
Shaggy: I thought that was the drugs, man. [pause] Not the neckerchief, though, that was totally gay.
Velma: If anything, he loved me. Not you.
Daphne: What?! Why you--

[Daphne punches Velma right in the face. Piett, Herve and Shaggy recoil in shock, then back off. The two fight. Not some stereotypical cat fight, no, this is a full fledged brawl. The bare knuckle punching kind. It's just bloody and awful. The three back away and Daphne and Velma disappear into the darkness, brutalizing each other with hard punches and all-out violence.]

Piett: So we're in a Saw scenario with Scooby Doo. [pause] Wait, where's Scooby Doo?
Shaggy: We ate him. [points to his skeleton]
Herve: SON OF A BITCH!! [pause]That makes it sound like I'm horrified, but only in the sense that it's a recently deceased thing lying there. I'm quite happy that Scooby Doo is dead.
Shaggy: Whatever, man.
Piett: Christ, how long have you been in here?
Shaggy: 20 minutes or so.
Piett: Wha--
Shaggy: We're obviously not good survivalists.
Herve: In this case, I'm thankful for that.

[Suddenly the lights flicker on. All cover their eyes. Piett is the....second to adjust to the sudden light....]

Voice: Lords of light!
Piett and Herve: Thundarr the Barbarian?!?

[Indeed, to their left is Thundarr the Barbarian. They geek out for a moment, then remember that his cartoon wasn't all that great and ignore him to look at what else is in the room. Herve gasps loudly.]

Herve: Dude, Saw is kidnapping old cartoon characters!
Piett: Looks that way. Normally I'd appreciate crossover madness, but this is.....a bit much. [pause] Like that movie we watched the other night....

=====

[Herve and Piett watch Adolf Hitler: Leprechaun Hunter. They are, again, dumbfounded. Beyond dumbfounded. In fact, you can actually see IQ points dying in their heads. I don't know how that's possible..............but Adolf Hitler: Leprechaun Hunter, people. It found a way. Anyway, Herve finally gets up angrily at about the 38 minute mark, removes a Nazi membership card from his wallet and tears it apart in a fit of rage. He sits back down and continues watching, as Piett is aghast at everything that is transpiring.]

Herve: So.....that old Planet of the Apes cartoon after this?
Piett: Are we glossing over the fact that YOU'RE A CARD CARRYING MEMBER OF THE NAZI PARTY HERE?!?!?!!!!

=====

Herve: Apparently we're doing the cutaway gag thing again.
Piett: Apparently.
Herve: I like it.
Piett: Dunno. Makes us seem lazy. Like Family Guy.
Herve: But we're funny at least. [pause] Sometimes. [pause] Like Family Guy. FUCK! Who the hell else is in here?
Piett [looking around]: That's Rainbow Brite. And Webigail from DuckTales. And a Snork. Oh god I feel so bad for them, they're going to die just.....so, SO horribly. And.....
Serpent Cobra Commander: I wassssss oncccccce a man!
Herve: Oh wow. It's Cobra Commander as a snake. Not even good Cobra Commander.
Piett: He got better though, in the cartoons after the animated movie.

=====

[Herve and Piett watch the post-animated movie GI JOE cartoon series.]

[There are tears. Many tears.]

=====

Herve: No. He did not. He, and everyone else, got much MUCH worse.
Piett: He sounded the same at least.
Herve: Not. Good. Enough.
Piett: And there's--well, there was Daphne and Velma. But they killed each other.
Herve: Damn. [to Shaggy] Um, sorry?
Shaggy: I'm kinda fine with it. They were enablers, when you think about it.
Herve: You sound way more coherent.
Shaggy: The Scooby snacks have worn off, I think. I make sense when I'm normal.
Piett: You also have a Puerto Rican accent.
Shaggy: Because I'm Puerto Rican.
Herve: Shit, the things you learn when Shaggy's not on the hashish.
Piett: And there.......oh my God.
Herve: What?!
Piett: It's Shinzon from Star Trek Nemesis. And he's in a head clamp trap! Oh, the humanity! He's doomed!
Herve: Star Trek Nemesis was not a cartoon. [looks closer] Dude, that's Bane.
Piett: Dark Knight Rises wasn't a cartoon either. What is this?!

[Bane says something. Piett understands him and nods in appreciation to the voice, but Herve, Shaggy and others don't have a clue what he's saying.]

Herve: How can you make a multi-million dollar summer blockbuster with a villain whose voice 80% of the audience can't understand?
Piett: I understood him perfectly.
Herve: So what'd he say?
Piett: You didn't like the voice. So screw.
Shaggy: What's happening here?
Herve: Confusing and topical humor that I think only Walsh gets.
Shaggy: Who?
Herve: Jesus Christ, why are we still conversing and consorting with Shaggy?!?

[Herve sees and grabs the ray gun from Piett's belt buckle, and he zaps Shaggy into oblivion. A dusty plume of pot smoke is all that remains of him.]

Piett: Where did---have I had my ray gun on me this whole time?!
Herve: You never part with the thing. It's kinda creepy, and I often wonder when you'll zap your junk off.
Piett: Fucking a, man! Gimme--!

[Piett grabs and starts shooting. He blasts the window where he's pretty sure the camera watching them is, he blasts the chains entrapping everyone, he blasts Serpent Cobra Commander to put him out of his goddamn misery, and he blasts the doors into smithereens. Everyone who's still alive runs out and flees for their lives down a corridor outside the room. Piett and Herve walk out into the hallway a bit, as the Snork runs past. It stops and turns back.]

Snork: Thank you, sirs, for saving our lives!
Piett: No problem, you adorable little sea demon.

[Suddenly a large object - possibly an anvil, possibly a piano - falls on and kills the Snork in a crushingly horrible manner.]

Piett and Herve: OHHHHHH!!!!!
Herve: Where did that come from?!
Piett: Dammit, I knew one of em would die horribly...
Herve: Wait a minute. Everyone escaped. Easily.
Piett: Except the Snork.
Herve: Except the Snork. So where's Saw? Where are the insanely cleverish deathtraps that are somewhat possible to escape from because they're designed to all along?

[The group that just fled suddenly runs back.]

Thundarr the Barbarian: Hey, I think I just saw Jodie Foster and some kid hiding around here.
Herve: Oh my God! We weren't kidnapped by Saw, we were transported into........The Panic Room!!!
Piett: Please tell me this isn't the resolution of this story.
Herve: No Saw, but Jodie Foster. Both a hideous trade-off and obscure movie reference.
Thundarr: No, I'm just kidding. We came back because--
Piett: I have a ray gun and will kill you.
Herve: No big dumb Mok to save you here.
Thundarr: Demon dogs!
Herve: None of them either.
Thundarr: I yelled that in an exclamatory manner! "Demon dogs" as in "holy shit, LOOK!!"

[Herve turns, and sure enough there is a man in a black cloak running at them with an active chainsaw. Instinctively, they turn and run.]

Herve: I'm impressed you even know the word exclamatory and used it rather accurately. Piett: Fuck that, Herve! That's Saw! Herve: That can't be Saw! That's not his motif! Rainbow Brite: Guys, isn't he called the Jigsaw Killer and not Saw?! Herve: SHUT UP RAINBOW BRITE!! Piett: Quick! Thundarr! Rainbow Brite! Small duck girl! Live-action Bane! Follow me!!

[The group of animated characters run down a series of dark sinisterish corridors. Webigail from DuckTales, though, isn't fast enough and her webbed duck legs fail her. Saw hacks her in half with his chainsaw.]

Piett: Oh no!! I called that death too!
Herve: Don't turn back, keep going!!
Piett: How are you outrunning me?! You're a midget!
Herve: Like Adolf Hitler: Leprechaun Hunter found a way to defy explanation, so did I!
Piett: Still need an explanation for the Nazi membership!
Herve: Not now, I think there's a way out up there! Look!!

[Herve points to a door. The group barges through it at full running speed.]

¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø

[Piett wakes up from a dizzy spell. His eyes are glossed over and his arms seem weak, but otherwise he senses he is in alright condition.]

Piett: Oh, my head..... [lifts his arms to hold his head] Wait, why are my arms so flimsy.......and why is my skin so felty......OH FUCK ME GOD NO!!!! NOOO!!!!!!
Herve: Piett! Piett!!!!

[Pause of horror.]

Piett and Herve: WE'RE MUPPETS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[They flail their arms.]

*to be continued...........

..............NOW!!!*

Joe Q: Public: NgaaaahgaaaahhgaAAAHHHHHGGGHHHHH!!!!!!

[When last we left our hapless heroes.....]

Piett and Herve: WE'RE MUPPETS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[They flail their arms.]

¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø

[Presently........]

Piett: Well, that was horrible.
Herve: Agreed.

[Cosmos and Chronos emerge from nowhere.]

Cosmos: Guys, we're here!! It's ok!
Herve: Wha?
Chronos: When you screamed "WE'RE MUPPETS!!!!!!!!!!!!!" a series of alarms in the mansion went off.
Piett: Alarms?
Cosmos: Yes. We had them installed when Jim Henson died and yet they still kept making Muppet movies and TV shows.
Chronos: The cosmic balance needs to be kept in line, and that wrong-sounding shit fucks up so much of what keeps the universe together.
Piett: We're just learning of this now??
Cosmos: Enough of you have died fighting this menace.
Herve: What does that mean?
Cosmos: We'll be honest, you're not the first quantum agents we've had in our employ.
Piett: I've always suspected as much.
Herve: Wait, we get paid?
Chronos: We had 18 before you.
Herve: Wow.
Cosmos: All of them died fighting Pepe the Prawn.
Piett: Fucking hell!
Chronos: Most of them were suicides.
Herve: Stop already, just stop!!
Cosmos: So.........wait, you're not Muppets.
Piett: No. We got better.
Chronos: Got better?!
Piett: Yeah.
Herve: Surprisingly easy, really.
Cosmos: Care to explain?
Herve: I prefer this one remain a fiendish secret that falls by the wayside.
Piett: Sad that Thundarr and Rainbow Brite couldn't live to see the quick reversal of fortunes take place. [to Chronos] Suicides.
Chronos: Toldja.
Piett: We do manage this theater now, though.
Cosmos: What the--?!

[Cosmos and Chronos realize they are in fact in the old Muppet Show theater.]

Chronos: NGAHHH!!!!
Cosmos: Fuck, Chronos, you know what this means!! RUN!!!

[Before Piett and Herve can comprehend this outburst, Cosmos and Chronos disappear back into nowhere.]

Piett: Well. That was rude.
Herve: And ominous.
Piett: What does this mean?
Herve: Nothing bad, I would think. This theatre is pretty kickass.
Piett: "Theatre?" Are we bouncing back and forth with the spellings?
Herve: I'm never going to get over how you can critique the narration and dialogue as written language. Has Walsh ever explained how we can do that?
Piett: No.
Herve: Will he?
Piett: No.
Herve: Fair enough.

[Pause]

Herve: Are we *really* gonna run this theatre.....I mean, theater?
Piett [rubs hands together]: Into the ground, yes.
Herve: Oh good. I was afraid there for a few seconds.

===

[Rome. The Vatican. Beneath the buildings where Muslims are complained about, where the Bible keeps getting rewritten to exclude all the references to gays and Jesus' wife, and where child molesters seek refuge for their diddling ways, a most important official and his 2 guests descend down a series of ancient steps into the catacombs of the religious complex.]

Chronos: I always found it funny that the Vatican has crypts like this so much closer to Hell than to Heaven. You'd think they'd have their old texts and libraries in towering spires reaching upwards to the clouds.
Cosmos: Even the Church has to job to aviation regulations. Are we there yet, Hook? Supreme Pontiff Hook: I can't believe you're making me do this. And on the day when we finally decide to excommunicate most of America. I've really been looking forward to that beer party.
Cosmos: You always knew that as part of you becoming Supreme Pontiff of the Holy Catholic Church, we'd require access to the vaults for the utmost of urgencies.
Supreme Pontiff Hook: Somehow I doubt this is utmost of anything. It wasn't the last time.
Chronos: Dude, I was totally serious when I thought the Book of Job really did contain satanic verses.
Cosmos: And then you remembered that you mistook The Book of Job for Salman Rushdie's book The Satanic Verses. No amount of stupidity eludes you. Ever.
Supreme Pontiff Hook: Seems a bit harsh, Cosmos.

[They arrive at the vault, behind whose doors lies all the knowledge, dogmas and texts of the Catholic Church. 2 cloaked individuals, sitting at the doors of the vault, stand and confront the supreme pontiff and his colleagues.]

Keymaster: I am the Keymaster.
Gatekeeper: I am the Gatekeeper.
Supreme Pontiff Hook: Shut up, Rick Moranis and Sigourney Weaver, and let us in.

[The 2 beings step aside and the doors open on their own. Hook and the others enter, as the doors close behind them.]

Cosmos: Was that really Rick Moranis and Sigourney Weaver you verbally intimidated?
Supreme Pontiff Hook: No. That was the password.
Chronos: What, no hellhounds guarding the gates?
Supreme Pontiff Hook: I apologize. You were fundamentally correct in your assessment of this half-ass.
Chronos: Hey!
Cosmos: Thank you.
Chronos: Fine then. No.....chihuahuas?
Supreme Pontiff Hook: We did. But then we lost a bet with that bitch Paris Hilton and she took it to live in her purse.
Chronos [slightly dejected, to Cosmos]: But that was a dumber statement than the hellhounds...
Cosmos: It's not dumb when it's actually right.
Supreme Pontiff Hook: Here we are.

[Supreme Pontiff Hook extended his arm and hook hand, and both Cosmos and Chronos stand in awe at the Vatican library. Instead of an old and vast collection of religious scripts, instead they gaze at a ridiculously futuristic library, with digital texts and holographic data arrays of information as far as the eye can see.]

Chronos: Dude, this technology is amazing.
Cosmos: You did not have this the last time we were here. I was expecting dusty shelves filled to the brim with dusty old tomes and parchments.
Supreme Pontiff Hook: Steve Jobs' death had some.....unexpected consequences.
Chronos: You killed Steve Jobs.
Supreme Pontiff Hook: We killed Steve Jobs. Yes.
Chronos: All for.....this?
Supreme Pontiff Hook: Well, it was part of a bet we lost with Microsoft, but this was all a shocking sidenote. [looks up] We like to think he really approved of it. Chronos: Is he talking to God, or Steve Jobs?
Cosmos: I.....I don't know.
Chronos: Dark.
Cosmos: I don't think you know how to use that word in these kinds of situations.
Chronos: But I thought you had mounds of money, in no part thanks to closing churches in America.
Cosmos: Ah. Topical humor. Grand.
Supreme Pontiff Hook: No. We spend that money to hide the child molesters.
Cosmos: Of course you do, you bastards.
Supreme Pontiff Hook: Now will you *finally* tell me what's going on with this entire excursion to the Steve Jobs Memorial Holy Catacombs of Catholic, Christian and Other White Anglo-Saxon Religions.

[Pause]

Supreme Pontiff Hook: Hey, blame Jobs for that one. It was enscribed on the gates when this place upgraded itself.
Cosmos: We're looking for....a prophecy.
Supreme Pontiff Hook: A modern prophecy?
Cosmos: Possibly.
Supreme Pontiff Hook: Well, I'll need it to Dewey Decimal system.
Chronos: Dewey Decimal......really? I was so expecting something like the....Jobsy Integer system.

[Cosmos and Hook stare at him in wonder.]

Supreme Pontiff Hook: Did the other Chronos die and get replaced with a smarter one?
Cosmos: I was actually going to comment that it wasn't *that* smart. Though I can't believe the word "integer" correctly existed within his brain for a moment there.
Chronos: Stop doing that! I master time, so I'm clearly.....somewhat brightish.
Supreme Pontiff Hook: So what prophecy is it?
Cosmos: It's a prophecy that involves a theater.
Chronos: Theatre.
Cosmos: Whatever. And Piett and Herve. And........possibly Muppets.
Supreme Pontiff Hook: Oh, it's a Muppet thing. Yeah, that'll be a problem.
Chronos: What for huh?
Supreme Pontiff Hook: Computer virus knocked out the nightmare wing a few weeks ago.
Chronos: Comput--? Wait a minute, Steve Jobs didn't build all this in his death.
Supreme Pontiff Hook: What?
Cosmos: A computer virus and Steve Jobs are about as compatible as Internet Explorer and competent web surfing. Or Sarah Palin and coherency. Or Mormon leader John Smith and South Park.
Chronos: Actually I've been meaning to take you to Broadway for a while, you'd be surprised to learn they--
Cosmos: This is no time to arrange a date, Chronos, we must know the nature of this perplexing conundrum!
Supreme Pontiff Hook: And this silly prophecy.
Cosmos: Silence, man! Priorities! Now, let us solve this mystery!!

[Many many, MANY hours later.]

Supreme Pontiff Hook: So this wasn't Steve Jobs' doing, it was George Lucas'. [facepalms] Terrific. Well, might as well tear the shit out of this place and burn it down. It'll be something we all deeply hate and feel ashamed of in about 5-10 years.
Chronos: You're too modest, I give it 2-3 months. [pause] And even then, it'll still be here for decades to come and you'll be using and throwing money at it as devotedly as ever.
Supreme Pontiff Hook: Jesus dammit Christ on a crutch. [to himself] Wait, so did we kill Steve Jobs just for Bill Gates' pleasure? Shit.
Cosmos: You're really bad at your job, aren't you?
Supreme Pontiff Hook: No worse than Jim Pius the LXth or whoever preceded me.
Chronos: And you call *me* an idiot.
Cosmos: We call you worse, but...point taken.
Supreme Pontiff Hook: Now can we get to this prophecy about Piett, Herve and the Muppets?
Cosmos: There is no prophecy about Piett and Herve in the Muppets theatre.
Supreme Pontiff Hook: WHAT?!?
Cosmos: I remembered it about a day and a half ago or whenever.....I was certain there was a prophecy, but seems I was a bit off. Probably dreamt it or something.
Supreme Pontiff Hook: And YOU didn't remember this either?!
Chronos: Derr, I'm an idjit I is. DERR. [pause] That's what you get, dick.
Supreme Pontiff Hook: Are you telling me we're wasted all this time down here when I could've been upstairs excommunicating whole nations of people and kegging my ass off afterwards!!
Chronos: Not really. Outside this catacomb, only a minute and a half of time has passed.
Supreme Pontiff Hook: Really, how?!
Chronos: I master time, dingus, remember?
Supreme Pontiff Hook: The fuck if I care!!! Let's go!

[Supreme Pontiff Hook runs out of the room. Cosmos walks slowly, perterbed at his shoddy memory as Chronos pats him on the back.]

Cosmos: But I swear there was a prophecy about chaos in a theatre or something.
Chronos: Dude, if this was an Aurora, Colorado reference gone horribly wrong, then I'm gonna punch your eye socket.

[Cosmos points and stares, and Chronos looks out over the . A glance at his time wrist device - which I'd like to pretend he's had for all these 175+ stories - reveals it is now the year 987,531,901. And dinosaurs reign over the Earth. Again.]

Chronos: Oh shitfuck, I done screwed up the timey wimey crap again. [picks up a rock] Well, let's get to smiting these retro-pre-historic beasts...
Supreme Pontiff Hook: Should we tell him they're Dino-Riders, being ridden by Biker Mice from Mars?
Cosmos: Nah. They'll all die either way.

===

[Some time later. Piett and Herve sit in the theatre/theater. Around them are charred remains, smoke, an exposed ceiling and a lot of dead Muppets.]

Herve: I feel good.
Piett: What, that the narrative of this story focused away from us so we didn't have to go into any intricate plot movements?
Herve: No, that we just murdered all the Muppets ever. Even Fraggle Rock. Fucking Morlocks....
Piett: Now, now....the audience can only deal with so many witty references...
Herve: Witty?! Did you SEE what I did to Snuffleupagus?!? I killed him worse than Gordon and Bob killed Mr. Hooper!
Piett: A heart attack killed Mr. Hooper.
Herve: Given to him by Gordon and Bob.

[Pause]

Piett: Did.......did he see them having sex?
Herve: You are an uncouthed individual, sir, with no knowledge of Sesame Street and other finer things of life, and I wish to sue you because of it.
Piett: You coulda just said "dark, dude...."
Herve: Is that the proper usage in this instance? I have a hard time telling most times.
Piett: Oh yeah. VERY proper with that one.

[Pause. They look around. The story is going nowhere. So it's probably over.]

Herve: W-what do we do now?
Piett: I dunno. This seems like an extended ending. Rather unlike Walsh.
Herve: And with no purpose. [pause] Though that's *very much* like Walsh.
Piett: We can sit and ramble about weird things.
Herve [looks around]: Eh. Might as well. I'm enjoying the dead Muppet ambiance in here.
Piett: *And* their corpses don't stink as time goes on.
Herve: Oh no. The Muppets definitely stink. Though maybe in a different way.
Piett: Shut up and go get some beers in the back.

[Several minutes pass. Surprisingly, much like this story, a lot takes place as the time has passed suddenly for you, the unfortunate reader. But then, maybe you appreciate that because it means less shitty plotting and dialogue. To which I said, "up yours."]

Herve [drinking a beer which he has opened with the eye socket of Floyd Peppers]: I'm telling you, the woman who repainted and destroyed that Jesus portrait in Spain was a *much* worse foe for us than Nathaniel Hawthorne.
Piett [drinking from the felt-manufactured skull of Sherlock Hemlock]: I agree, but I just thought the matador bodyguards made the adventure more stereotypically racist than it really needed to be.
Herve: Speaking of dead writers, why haven't we ever done an adventure with Edgar Allen Poe? That coulda been creepy.
Piett: Dude, his life pretty much ended with suicide or something. No need to refine the reasoning behind it. He suffered enough, I think.
Herve: Dude, but what if WE were the reason he died?
Piett: Ooh. [pause] Nah. I doubt it'd fill much of a cutaway. Not worth it unless we really needed something to do.

[Pause]

Piett: Wait a minute, what happened to live action Bane?
Herve: Something awesome but muffled and hard to hear, I take it. Either way, that's a cutaway I'd be interested to read.

*fin*

Herve: No? Well. Ok then.

Oppa Herve Style

[Space/Time Continuum. In the lounge, Herve is falling all over the place. He may be drunk. Or perhaps too much of the Honey Boo Boo on the television. Who really wants to know? Piett walks by with a backpack, but stops and turns back to look at his friend's puzzling situation.]

Piett: Are.....are you trying to do the Gangnam Style dance?
Herve: I cannot do it. I know it's one hop, one hop, two hops, and alternating between "horse riding" and "looking at your watch doing the Arsenio Hall fist pump" but.....well, short legs don't help me be cool here. Wanna try?
Piett: I cannot admit to knowing how to do that dance. [shifts awkwardly in place] Besides, I gotta go.
Herve: Where to?
Piett: Eh, lost a bet and gotta fill in for someone in another fictional universe.
Herve: Replacement refs again?
Piett: Seriously, they're hiring bankers and middle school janitors to referee pro football games. Is this shit still going on? Where does the madness stop?!
Herve: Figuring *that* out is what we do for a living, man. And thus the employment is neverending. [pause] Plus I thought that replacement ref thing was only like a 3 week ordeal, didn't think it was still going on...
Piett: Anyway, I'll gone for a bit.
Herve: Wait, but what if they're an adventure while you're gone?
Piett: Been hella slow of late, I doubt anything will come up in the.........what, 10 seconds I'm actually gone?
Herve: Because we can travel in and thus slightly manipulate our passage thru time.
Piett: Yes, Captain Obvious, because we can travel in and thus slightly manipulate our passage thru time.
Herve: Ok. So what if it happens 5 seconds after you leave?!

[Piett goes to answer, but then sighs and just portals away.]

Herve: Balls. Well, let's see if these 10 sec--

[Suddenly Cadmus, the aide to Cosmos and Chronos who doesn't appear in these stories as much as you might think he would since he lives in the mansion too, darts in and activates a portal.]

Cadmus: Oh my goodness there's an adventure and Piett's away and this is my time to finallydosomethingcomeonlet'sGOOOOOO!!!!
Herve: NggaAAAHHHHH!!!!

[Cadmus tackles Herve directly into the portal.]

WHEN SUDDENLY, IN NORTH KOREA!!

[A portal opens in a darkened alleyway in Pyongyang, North Korea. Herve and Cadmus land on the ground. However, while Herve is used to this kind of emergence from the continuum, Cadmus is obviously not, as he breaks his ankle upon hitting the pavement.]

Cadmus: AW FUCK!!!!!
Herve: Holy crap, did that just happen?!
Cadmus: I'm crippled! So much for me!
Herve: You ass! I was doing the Gangnam Style dance in a comfortable rumpus room, and now I'm in a dank dirty alley in....[smells]....North Korea?! Shitfuck!
Cadmus: I think I just pooed myself too!
Herve: Arghh!!!
Cadmus: Kidding. But yeah, ankle is definitely broken. [grabs his ankle, which is about the size of a tennis ball now] I'm in a very limited capacity now. But I think we can hide here and use this as a homebase.
Herve: Homebase?! Amongst the trash and damp poorly-made pavement?!
Cadmus: But I came prepared.

[Cadmus takes off his backpack, and from it emerges an incredible array of futuristic technology. Suddenly a small yet extensive network of holographic computers and viewscreens surround Cadmus, and he's become a human computer.]

Herve: Crapola. This is an improvement. [looks at his foot] Um, is that right?

[Cadmus' ankle has suddenly enlarged to the size of a basketball.]

Cadmus: I have some ointment, I'll be fine.
Herve: Ointment. Right. Wow.
Cadmus: Now let me bring up the mission details.

[Holographic images revolve all around both of them. Images of nefarious ne'er-do-wells and location maps illuminate the alley.]

Herve: Hrm. This all seems much too formal and awesome to be one of our adventures.
Cadmus: This is Rodrigo Altavista. He and his internet business cohorts - Linus Commodore LXIV, Shaniqua HotBot, Jeeves Aask, Armando Geocities and Fabian Tripod-Lycos - have created an evil internet conglomerate here in North Korea, hidden from the prying eyes of the rest of the world, and are launching systematic attacks on the world of online social media. Yesterday, they sent out a party invitation on Facebook, Twitter, Google Plus, MySpace, Bing, LinkedIn, Yelp and countless other sites, and about 1200 people showed up, only to realize they were driving into a canyon in Arizona. They are all dead. Hours later, they posted ain a viral video on YouTube and Google and Tout and Yelp, which upon viewing vacated the minds of the viewers, controlled them to spread the video amongst other sites and then leaves them a mindless husk when the task is complete. A total of 650 people were found catatonic and brain dead. And then there are the increased of lethal Facebook pokes--
Herve: Shit, never mind. I take it back. This is totally at our low level of adventurous dung.
Cadmus: Well.....good?
Herve: I guess. And why the fuck does Yelp keep coming up??
Cadmus: I was under the impression this is one of those social media sites everyone uses.
Herve: It's a fucking retailer/restaurant review site I've, like, only seen on Google Maps when I'm looking for a good comic book store.
Cadmus: Perhaps it's the key to this whole mystery?
Herve: I doubt it'd be as straightforward as that.

[Writer's note: it is, in fact, as straightforward as that.]

Cadmus: Did you hear something? Herve: Narration from Walsh. [shakes Cadmus' hand] Count your blessings that you're apparently immune from all that.
Cadmus: Well, you won't have to search long for their headquarters. It's over there.

[Cadmus, whose leg is now ballooned to the size of an industrial air conditioner, points to a concrete complex across the end of the alley.]

Herve: I don't know if that building has any significance in North Korea. Is this, like, their Jefferson Monument? Or Food and Drug Administration Building?

[Cadmus and Herve share a good laugh at the idea of North Korea giving a shit enough about its people to even bother having a food and drug administration.]

Cadmus: Does it really matter?
Herve: No. Well, I'm off. Have that foot/leg looked at.
Cadmus: The ointment will do just fine, sir! Walgreens never fails me!

[Herve runs across the street, ducking, diving and rolling with unnecessary abandon. He arrives at the front door and judo kicks it down. A signal goes off, and several security . Inspired by Liam Neeson and TAKEN, TAKEN 2: TAKENER and TAKEN 3: THE SEARCH FOR SPOCK, Herve proceeds to fucking murder ever last motherfucker he goddamn sees. Everyone featured for the next 95 minutes dies horribly, because that's how TAKEN fucking goes. Finally, he arrives at the doors to the penthouse on the top floor, and sends a defeated security guard careening through it to his death. He strides in confidently, as the hapless foes of this tale recoil in horror at the ferocity of their reveal.]

Linus Commodore LXIV: Dear lord, no!
Fabian Tripod-Lycos: Guards! Guards!!
Shaniqua HotBot: They're dead! All dead!
Jeeves Aask: We're doomed!
Armando Geocities: He told us this one would kill us horribly!
Herve: I'm just now understanding the lameocity of your names. So your deaths shall be.......[cracks knuckles].......deservingly horrifying.

[What transpires over the next several minutes is the complete assassination of 5 fictional characters.]

[Yeah. It's not pretty. So let's cut away for a few moments and expand on that thing from the last story where Piett and Herve could've been the reason Edgar Allan Poe died.]

¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø

[October 3, 1849. The streets of Baltimore, Maryland, USA, Earth. 2 men are standing over a 3rd who is kinda lying in the gutter.]

Piett: Dude, we gave him alcohol, cholera, rabies, syphilis, influenza, hypoglycemia, diabetes, a brain tumor, enzyme deficiency, a dose of laudanum, and even meningeal inflammation, if it's even possible to get that in a syringe, and the motherfucker is still not dead yet!!
Herve: Why are we even doing this?! What's he done other than be creepily awesome with his sinister short stories?! [looks around] And do we even know what the context of his death is gonna be for history's sake?
Piett: Screw that, we'll just go find the medical records and documents regarding his death and make their disappear, so that no one ever knows and it's a bizarre mystery. Now what else can we do?!
Herve: I don't know! What else do we have?!
Piett: We have a bus.
Herve: How did we end up with a bus in 1849?!
Piett: Can we hit him with a bus?
Herve: Wikipedia doesn't say that was a possible cause of death.
Piett: Oh.

[They sit down on the curb. Suddenly their eyes widen and they stand up and yell in unison.]

Piett and Herve: Then edit Wikipedia so that it says it's a cause of his death!!!
Joseph W. Walker: Who's there? What's going on? Is that Edgar Allan Poe delirious in the street? Holy shit am I totally gonna find this out and become famous for about 4 minutes for it?!
Piett: Oh shit! Run!!

[A portal opens and zips them away.]

¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø

Jeeves Aask: Please, God, not my facEAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!

[Ok, we just returned to a man having his face pulled right off of him. Let's take another time out and do another cutaway thing. Um........Piett and Herve meet Al Gore?]

¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø

Al Gore: Please, God, not my facEAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!

¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø

[Holy shit, did we just go from a man having his face pulled right off of him to a cutaway featuring ANOTHER man having his face pulled right off him?! Forget it, back to the main story.]

Herve: Well, that was productive. I always like to think I help clean the gene pool when I murder--

[Suddenly an unforeseen individual grabs Herve from behind and throws his face first through the window, and several floors to the pavement below. Several people in the street stop and look. If they had cellphones or modern photography in North Korea, they'd be snapping cell phone pics of the scene. Or calling their friends to leave their hovels and also come look and gawk at the hideous death that has just occurred in the center of Pyongyang. But then, there is a collective gasp in those gathered, as Herve gets up from the createrous hole in the ground and dust himself off.

Herve: TAKEN, motherfuc--

[The butt of a gun cracks him in the face and he falls to the ground. The North Korean soldier holding it summons his 200 other comrades over to surround the fallen quantum agent. From the front door of the headquarters, Rodrigo Altavista saunters out laughing and applauding.]

North Korean soldier 1: Is he applauding us and also laughing at us? We only did what he said to do.
North Korean soldier 2: By whatever being in our beloved central government that created all life that is known, don't speak!

Rodrigo Altavista: Haha, Mr. Villechaize! You had a good run annihilating my organization, but your time is up, my friend!

[Pause]

Rodrigo Altavista: Oh yes. He's unconscious. Someone.....someone pick him up and revive him.

[The 2 North Korean soldiers lift him up with considerable ease and to his feet. Suddenly, Herve jams his fist and arm down the mouth of one and tears apart the neck of the other. They fall dead, and prepares to fight the other 198. But then suddenly, a mist forms between Rodrigo Altavista and Herve. A most.....familiar one, that looks unlike cloudy smoke and more like 0's and 1's and hashtags and brackets.]

Herve: Oh what the--?!
Webmaster: Huzzah!!
Herve: Webmaster?!
Webmaster: Herve, my chum! Goodness, I cannot believe what's happened here! Let me help you, I'll try and get you free from all this!
Herve: That routine didn't work for Count Dooku in Episode 2, and it's not wor--

[The Webmaster violently kicks Herve in the face as if it were Lucy Van Pelt and he was Charlie Brown taking his aggression out on that blue-dressed football-teasing harlot.]

Webmaster: NEVER QUOTE A PREQUEL AROUND ME! [slaps Herve for good measure] ESPECIALLY Attack of the Clones!
Herve: Aw fuck, man. Was that necessary?!
Webmaster: Sorry. [pause] Wait, not sorry. I'm evil now, so I'm not apologizing.
Herve: So this whole mad insane plot was yours?
Webmaster: It's an internet scheme! I'm named the Webmaster! HOW COULD IT NOT HAVE BEEN ME?!?!
Herve: Um, easily? Everybody's on the internet these days. Coulda been anyone. But seriously, you're evil now? [pause] Again? Dude, you were my City of Heroes partner!
Webmaster: City of Heroes is DEAD and now so is my foolish dalliance with the heroic world of heroes! DEAD!!! And soon, dear Villechaize, you'll be dead too!
Herve: DEAD! [snorts] Sorry, got carried away. Wait, this is rather out of nowhere. I feel like Walsh came up with this series of events without any sort of continuity.
Webmaster: Perhaps you'd be convinced when you learn my real name....Gepetto Yelp!
Herve: Gepetto.....Yelp......holy shit it did kinda end up being as straightforward as he said it would. Stupid, but straightforward. And all these guys with the website and computer-related last names?
Webmaster: I'm using the insidious power and reach of social media to destroy the world! They cannot know that someone of modern relevance is behind this! That is why I employed the aid of these former online moguls [stands amongst their dead bodies pointing at them coldly] to serve as my cover!
Herve: You forgot about Rodrigo Altavista.
Webmaster: Oh him. Yeah, he......he just ran away. Supporting character logic indicates at least one of them had to live for another day.
Herve: So you're saying, because you're not the supporting character who ran away, that you're gonna die before this story is through.
Webmaster: No. I.....I didn't say that.
Herve: Totally did, dude. You're dead. DEAD!
Webmaster: Stop yelling that back at me, I'll be fine!!
Herve: DEAD, man, DEAD!!
Webmaster: Just shut up and let me explain my nefarious plan!
North Korea soldier 1: Is this going anywhere? [pause] And aren't we dead?
North Korean soldier 2: No. We're 2 other soldiers. There are a lot of us, and we're not important enough to be named.

[The Webmaster blasts the 2 soldiers with a ray of green energy, and the men howl as they are converted into HTML, CSS, JavaScript and binary code and evaporate in the air.]

Webmaster: I'm not paying you people to talk! [pause] Then again, I'm evil and so I don't really have to pay you anything. Sorry! [pause] Dammit, I'm evil and don't have to apologize for anything ever!
Herve: Yeah, this is gonna go easily.
Webmaster: What?!
Herve: I said, alright then, fine. Explain your mad scheme and then let me get back to killing all of you.
Webmaster: Well.....I know I shouldn't stereotypically explain my plot to my adversary, who could rather easily gain the upper hand again and undo my mad scheme... [pause] ...but I need to buck the trend here and prove that I'm not going to die here. So behold my newest creation!

[He presses a button on his handheld device, and the headquarters behind them begins to collapse and break apart, as from beneath it a giant turbine device emerges.]

Webmaster: Behold.........the Search Engineator!
Herve: Watching Phineas and Ferb these days?
Webmaster: Dude, even though it's basically the same exact plot over and over again, I find it intoxicatingly cute and enjoyable. [pause] BUT NEVER MIND THAT!!! This is the Search Enginea......no, just the Search Engine! With its immense power, it will seek out and destroy every vital piece of information in the world!

[Pause]

Herve: That's it?
Webmaster: Of course it is. Pretty nefarious, right?
Herve: A lotta hoop-la for something that a simple computer virus coulda done.
Webmaster: I'm evil. We're over the top like that sometimes.
Herve: Well, I've distracted you enough. Now the end has come.
Webmaster: Dammit, I knew it! [pause] Wait. No. No, it hasn't. I won't allow it [pause] Ok, now I'm curious how exactly will this happen...

[Herve just points. And across the street, a behemoth object bursts forth from an alley. It is Cadmus - whose ENTIRE BODY is now the size of a Cobra Terrordrome (if you don't get that reference, then shame on you), who lets out an inhuman scream. His globose humanoid mass is contorted and seems to have fused with the futuristic technology he was using earlier, and his body is now consuming the buildings and military equipment and even people all around him. The Webmaster shrieks like a girl and flees, as his North Korean military cohorts attempt to combat but are ultimately consumed by Cadmus' bulbous mass. The Webmaster runs to his Search Engine stops being a cowardly villain type, turns and lets out a rapid array of green energy rays. But Cadmus is utterly unfazed, and within moments he consumes Webmaster in his many large heavy flabs in Cadmus' body. As the Search Engine is torn asunder and its shattered remains engrossed, and struggles in futile effort to prevent them from crushing him.]

Webmaster: No!!! Cannot.......die......recurring.....suppor.....char.....EEEAAAAAAARRRBBBLLLLLLH!!!!!!1111111010001010101

[The Webmaster - real name Gepetto Yelp, apparently, and former supporting character of both good and evil in these particular tales - is painfully crushed to death, and his body explodes in a sickening burst of blood and bones and brain matter.]

Herve: Gross!
Cadmus: HELP! This has turned into a very bizarre and hideous Akira reference!! And I'm pretty sure that's a Japanese thing, not a Korean thing!!! Do something!!!

[Herve, realizing that if nothing is done he too shall die, clears his throat and straightens himself up.]

Herve: Ok then. Only one thing left to do. God help us, I hope I get this right.

[He clears throat. Repeatedly. As if he's stalling. Or anxious. Dammit, just get on with it, man.]

Herve: Oppa Gangnam Style.

[Suddenly he starts horse riding in place, and a group of Korean dancers and everyone else left around him joins in.]

Cadmus: .......how is this helping?!?
Herve: It's distracting people from your horror!
Cadmus: But I'm destroying North Korea!!
Herve: And I'm certain South Korea appreciates it!

[Suddenly a series of military forces begin crossing the Demilitrarized Zone, as more North Koreans begin joining in on the infectious silly internet memedance. One in particular, surrounded by very important looking military types, thrust pumps by. He high fives Herve (or rather, low fives - because Herve is short) and horse trots on.]

Cadmus: Hey, was that Psy?! Nice cameo.
Herve: No, he'd cost too much. That was....[looks back at him]....huh.

===========

[Some time later in the Space/Time Continuum.........or maybe like 5 seconds later. Time travel: it's a mindfuck.]

Cadmus: So North Korea gave up when Kim Jong Un started Gangnam Styling?
Herve [perturbed]: Yeah.
Cadmus: The power of Gangnam Style actually toppled the Communist regime, thusly eliminating the military support for the Webmaster's social media threat, as well as calmed everyone after the whole chaos of North Korea being destroyed by a rampaging me thing?
Herve [perturbed]: Yup.
Cadmus: And there's now peace on the Korean peninsula. [pause] Because of us.
Herve [perturbed]: Uh-huh.
Cadmus: Alright, what is so perturbing you??
Herve: Most of you is gone, dude.
Cadmus: Well, that's what happens when you become the big giant mass of whatever from the end of Akira. Apparently the ointment just made things worse. Good call. Anyway, thankfully Cosmos and Chronos saved my brain.
Herve: But it's your head. [pause] And part of your neck. [pause] Fully animated as if you were just a guy with his head in a jar. Sense, this makes not.
Cadmus: Actually, I'm a robot.

[Suddenly Cadmus - who has just been a head in a jar on a table next to Herve's lounger - rises, and a simple robotic body upon whose shoulders the head jar is mounted is revealed to Herve's considerable shock.]

Herve: BWAHRGH!!!!!! [falls off couch]

Herve: Why couldn't they have given you a more normal humanoid robot body? Like a Disney animatronic, or even that big thing Krang used in TMNT?
Chronos: [peaks into room] We.........we were just really incredibly lazy. [leaves]
Cadmus: Hey. I think it looks cool.
Herve: Hey. I know it looks dumb as fuck. Good luck dorking off with that.
Cadmus: I don't have a penis.

[Pause]

Cadmus [sobbing]: Fuck you, man.
Herve: Ha. [looks around] Wait a minute, shouldn't Piett be back by now? Where the hell *did* he go?

¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø

[Meanwhile, in Danville, somewhere in the Tri-State area...Piett is chillaxing under a tree with a very angular child, who jumps up suddenly.]

Piett: Gahh!!
Phineas: Firmus, I know what we're gonna do today!
Piett: Kill Doofenschmirtz? No, wait, I killed him already. Never mind. Oh, how about......we cure cancer?
Phineas: What?
Piett: Cure cancer. Do it.
Phineas: Um.......I don't think we can do that in just one day. Or 104.
Piett: Oh. Ok. Then I don't give a shit.
Phineas: Al........right then. [awkward looks to change the subject] Hey, where's Perry?
Piett: I killed him. He's dead.
Phineas: You're really no fun, Firmus.
Piett: Hey, as long as Ferb is getting his teeth fixed because he's British, you're just gonna have to deal with me and like it.

*fin*